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#doing Dangerous Things because he wants to know more
nerdpoe · 2 days
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A Favor for a Gift
Danny's new to the superhero scene, and he gets on rather well with Martian Manhunter.
He decides to give J'onn a gift, because he came across J'onn in a melancholy mood, and the Martian explained that he was homesick. Danny learned a lot about Mars and Martian culture, after telling him that he could vent to Danny if he wanted, and wants to do a little something to help J'onn out.
He goes to the Zone, searching for Martian ghosts to talk with. He finds Ghostwriter. Or rather, Ghostwriter finds him.
He proposes a deal.
He'll let Danny have two very old, very rare Martian books; but in exchange, Danny owes him. Big Time.
Danny....asks what the favor would be, cuz he's not about to agree to that without knowing what he's agreeing to.
Ghostwriter needs Danny to go enter into a Ghost Fighting Competition, the biggest in the Zone, because the prize is a book that not only does Ghostwriter not have, but the only copy of it's kind ever.
Danny agrees; he kicks ghost ass all the time, a fighting competition shouldn't be a problem. Pff. He'll be fine.
Okay he's a little nervous.
He pushes it down.
He gets one of the books early, as trade for even entering the competition in the first place, and rushes to give it to J'onn.
He's trying to psych himself up for the fight, but his intrusive thoughts keep making him remember the fights he's lost. He's just not good with stage fright! Fighting as a hero is one thing, but fighting in a competition is nervewracking!
~~~~
J'onn, getting a surface read of Phantom's mind, is concerned.
Due to Phantom being dead, not all of his thoughts are...legible. J'onn only gets flashes here or there, maybe emotions.
J'onn just got a flash of a coliseum, with stands filled to the brim, and another flash of Phantom losing in a fight.
Phantom is nervous.
Phantom, who's powers are so strong he can fight on equal footing with Superman, is nervous.
It is not the normal anxiety he can feel from the young ghost, it is something else.
Phantom tells him that he knows where another book is, he just needs to win it.
J'onn has heard of how Vicious Infinite Realms Ghosts can be, and it is reasonable to assume that Phantom being nervous is a direct result of a fight he knows he can't win.
A fight he's going to try to win anyways. For the sake of a book.
Phantom is worth more than a simple book.
Phantom disappears before J'onn can request that he not do that, leaving the Martian standing there with a book older than he is, with the knowledge that one of his friends is about to face...something. Some sort of danger.
And all J'onn can do is wait.
Naturally, he refuses to do that and calls the JLD to track down Phantom.
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autumnywinter · 3 days
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Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?
I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.
Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader
Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping
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You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.
Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.
However...
"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"
He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.
The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.
You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."
Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.
Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.
He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"
It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.
His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."
You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.
"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.
"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."
You winced. "I'm sorry-"
"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."
Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.
He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.
When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."
His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.
"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."
Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.
His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.
"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.
"You know I love you, right?"
Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.
He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.
"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.
"I do! I-I do!"
He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.
His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.
"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.
So he did.
His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.
If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.
He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.
Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.
Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.
"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.
"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.
He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."
You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"
He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."
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emchant3d · 2 days
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part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1
Eddie Munson is not having a good day.
His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.
He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.
There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.
“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.
The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.
His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.
Time stops.
It’s Stevie.
He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.
Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.
His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.
And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.
“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”
“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”
“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.
It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.
Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.
Or not his version of her, anyway.
This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.
Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.
“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.
“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.
He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.
“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.
“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.
“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.
She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.
"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”
He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.
His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.
"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.
"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.
“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”
“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.
Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.
"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.
“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”
“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.
“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”
“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.
He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.
It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.
It looks like a status symbol.
It doesn’t look like her.
“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.
But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.
A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.
He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.
“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.
“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.
“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.
“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”
“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.
“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.
“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.
“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”
“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”
“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.
“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.
“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.
Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–
And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.
“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.
When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.
He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.
He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.
this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕
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lilislegacy · 2 days
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um actually grover underwood is the bravest character because when percy and annabeth left for college, they drove from new york to san fran. coast to coast. and grover went with them. this dude willingly went on a long road trip with his two best friends who are in a relationship. you would not catch me dead going on a road trip with just 2 people who are dating. and 18 year olds nonetheless?? oh hell no
remember how every time in cotg when percy and annabeth flirt and kiss, grover gets so uncomfortable? how the FUCK did he enclose himself in a car with them for that long? and yes i KNOW grover is their best friend. and i KNOW he is used to them, and they are all gonna be a close trio forever. but that doesn’t mean that this road trip didn’t include many moments that made him WIDLY uncomfortable. he hasn’t been on a long extended adventure with them since before they started dating. (that we know of.) like… were percy and annabeth making flirtatious jokes with each other during the drive? were they playing love songs? did- did percy horribly belt out the words to cheesy romance songs? oh gods… do they have a song?? also percy and annabeth are so PDA it’s not even funny. they have no subtlety whatsoever. remember when they just, like, fully made out in front of piper in BoO?? (yes, the kiss with annabeth’s grunt-whimpers 🫠)
i just want to know the logistics. like are they stopping at hotels/motels? if so, are grover and percy in one bed/room and annabeth in another? or are they typical teenagers and percy’s going “so, grover, buddy, you wouldn’t mind if annabeth and i took that one, would ya?” same thing if they are camping. what’s the tent situation? are they all in one? either way i feel like percy and annabeth are gonna be sneaking away. are they going on long “walks” together while grover just sits there and chats with the trees? or do they not leave his side, and instead sit there and cuddle and flirt and act absolutely disgustingly adorable while grover is just chilling there like 🧍🏽
they love grover so so much and would NEVER do anything to purposefully make him uncomfortable or feel like a third wheel. but… it’s also percy and annabeth. they kinda have no chill when they’re around each other. zero sensible thoughts happening. it’s pretty much just “wow he/she looks so good right now” all the dam time. and yes, i also know that annabeth mentioned they faced danger on the trip, but that only seems to make percy and annabeth MORE down bad for each other. like remember in tartarus, aka LITERAL HELL, when they were suffering the worse pain and trauma imaginable, and percy’s only thoughts were how annabeth looked like a “hot barbarian princess?” they are literally the worst. i love them for it, but oh my goddess
grover underwood, you are braver than me
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spaceclefairy · 1 day
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Keep that Coffee Hot
You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.
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When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 
You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 
And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.
This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 
“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.
“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”
You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 
“That's because I'm the client this time.”
“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”
You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”
“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.
Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.
“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”
The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”
“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”
The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”
“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”
You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.
The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”
You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.
The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you say?”
You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”
“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”
You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”
Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.
The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 
You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.
The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”
You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”
“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”
You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”
His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”
You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 
He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.
“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”
You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.
“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”
The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.
The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 
“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”
He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”
You smirk. “That, too.”
He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”
“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”
The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”
The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.
You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”
“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”
The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.
You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.
After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”
The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”
You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”
“Try me.”
“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”
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gremlingottoosilly · 10 hours
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Idk how a bimbo!reader would work in monster!konig's universe, but i know this woman would constantly get made fun for walking into doors and saying the most stupid shit
You're a model human for the monsters who never saw one before, and now the whole base is convinced that all humans are stupid as fuck horny pets. Which may or may not save the rest of humanity from the fate of being massacred completely. The thing is...you're adorable. With your doe eyes and cartoonish expressions, with your dumbest questions that are going to be asked with a straight face - not because you want to make fun of anyone, but because you really are this fucking stupid. Konig doesn't know what to make of you, with his wife being such a dumb girl, but he is trying his best to show everyone that you can't be messed with. Even if the results of said messing could be really fucking funny. You ask if Konig is partly fish. You ash where Krueger's head is, and why Horangi can't purr like a cat does. Your eyes are betraying you, always showing just how empty your pretty head is. Never allowing you to forget about how dumb you are - but you don't even care. It doesn't matter, as long as you can press your face against Konig's chest and let him fill your pussy with eggs. It's been a while since his last clutch - you feel uncomfortable in maternity clothes that isn't stretched around your belly. Your pussy feeling empty without constant pressure of his cum bubbling inside. You somehow become more lucid, less dumb in this state - and you're asking question. Bad questions. "Where is my friends and what are you doing to these humans" questions. Konig can't let his pretty wife be upset. He kisses you all over, prepping you for the stretch of his egg-laying tentacle entering your pussy. You're going dumb immediately, eyes rolling back as you cling to him, beg to be filled. You're still asking stupid questions - but not dangerous ones, finally. You're pretty under him, all glazed and adorable. Konig wants to eat you right up. Wants to fucking devour you. Everything to stop you from being upset. Everything to keep his dumb wifey happy.
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literaryavenger · 2 days
Text
Careless
Summary: Part 2 of Thoughtful.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Fluff. Angst. Tony being kind of an asshole. Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts. Reader being dumb.
Word Count: 1K
A/N: I keep having no idea what this is, I have no endgame but I hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
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Part 1
Stark parties are a hassle. Tony always insists on the team dressing up, cocktail dresses, tuxedos and all that.
So that’s why you’re all dolled up right now, a black sparkly floor-length gown that highlights your curves perfectly with a slit that goes up your left thigh with black stilettos, your hair curled perfectly and your make-up on point thanks to Natasha and Wanda, gold hoop earrings finishing the ensemble.
The only thing that looks like it doesn’t belong on your right now are Bucky’s dog tags hanging from your neck.
Things with Bucky have been going relatively good, you’re not really dating but neither of you let a moment pass without trying to flirt with each other. You enjoy the attention he only gives you and he enjoys making you flustered.
You’ve even managed to make him blush himself a few times.
You haven’t taken his dog tags off since that morning Bucky put them on you, and that’s not gone unnoticed by the team who have had a field day teasing you about it. Just never enough to bother you and make you want to take them off.
Until now.
“Come on, they look so out of place!” Tony says while chuckling as you roll your eyes, drink in hand while you stand in the middle of the party while talking with Tony, Scott and Maria.
“Leave her alone, Stark.” Maria comes to your defense and you give her a grateful smile. All the girls think it’s adorable that you wear Bucky’s tags.
“He’s not wrong, though.” Scott chimes in. “That’s a beautiful get up, but the tags stand out, and not in a good way.”
Anyone else, you’d be creeped out, but you know Scott is in a happy relationship with Hope and he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s more of a girlfriend at this point.
“I don’t care.” You say simply, sipping your drink. “I like them, and I’m not taking them off.”
“You haven’t taken them off in weeks.” Tony points out, a dangerous smirk starting to grow on his face. “Could it have anything to do with the particular soldier that gave them to you?”
You roll your eyes, knowing where Tony’s going with this because he’s gone there countless times now.
“It has nothing to do with Bucky, I just like them.” You say causally.
“You like him.” Tony says childishly while the other two snicker at your groan. “Maybe you even love him.”
You scoff and almost glare at Tony. “I don’t love him.”
“Then prove it.” Tony says without missing a beat. Obviously he has you exactly where he wants you. “Take them off.”
“What would that even prove?” You roll your eyes again.
“Prove to me that they don’t mean as much to you as I think they do. Take them off.” He keeps grinning at you, challenging you.
“You’re a child.” You say simply, having no intention to accept this silly challenge.
“Yes, I am.” He says and all four of you chuckle, before Tony takes it one step further. “Take them off for a week and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.”
You give him an unimpressed look. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s known to do this kind of thing all the time. He once bet Sam twenty thousand dollars if he went streaking for at least 4 blocks around the tower.
His ‘falcon’ was on the paper the next day.
“Come on, if you’re so sure I’m wrong, why not make some money off my arrogance.” Tony says with a smirk when you narrow your eyes at him, he knows you’re considering it.
“Fine.” You say after a pause. You hesitantly take the tags off and put them on Tony’s outstretched hand. It’s only a week and it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole thing from a distance. And it meant plenty to him.
He couldn’t hear what you were saying even with his enhanced hearing because you were far away and the party noise was almost deafening, but Bucky saw you clearly as you took off his tags and gave them to Tony.
To Tony.
Did they not mean as much to you as they did to him? Was this whole thing just a joke to you? Was he making a fool out of himself thinking you liked him as much as he liked you? Maybe you just liked the attention. Maybe you were fucking with him, having fun at his expense because he convinced himself you like him, because how could he even think someone like you actually likes him? Maybe you’ve been laughing behind his back while he’s been falling for yo-
“Hey, Sergeant Grumpy.” His thoughts are interrupted by your playful voice that just a minute ago was the single greatest sound that he wanted as the soundtrack of his existence for the rest of his life.
But right now, it’s making his nostrils flare with barely contained anger while he almost glares at you.
You think nothing of it, convincing yourself that maybe the party is making him anxious like it usually does. After all, Bucky doesn’t do good with strangers.
Or maybe Sam has been getting on his nerves more than usual tonight. Whatever it is, you want to make him feel better.
So you wrap your hand around the tie of his suit and pull him towards you a little, copying the move he’s now done countless times with his dog tags around your neck.
“You wanna hear something funny?” You ask playfully, wanting to tell him about the bet you just made with Tony and thinking Bucky will get a kick out of it and it’ll take his mind off of whatever has him in a bad mood.
But you get no chance to say anything more since he takes your hand away from his tie.
“Leave me alone.” He says with a harsh tone you’ve never heard him use towards anyone, let alone you. “Forever.”
That said, he walks off and out of the room in the direction of his quarters without giving you a second glance, leaving you to look after him, too dumbfounded as your mind tries to play catch-up.
What the hell just happened?
Requested Taglist: @marvelcasey05 @ordelixx @alltoounwellread @capswife @sapphirebarnes @rio-reid-whoreee @theunknownmarveluser @alltoowellread @a-very-fictional-girl
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dr3amofagame · 2 days
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thinking about c!dream earlier on in the server just makes me sad man. like, c!dream has never been a perfect character. he's always been flawed, always been a bit of an asshole, always had control issues. but also he knew that. he tried to work on that. he and tommy were friends, despite being flawed people with their own issues that would bump into conflicts because of the ways that they differed. c!dream tried, god, he tried; he wasn't even on the server, when the drug van happened, and walked into a place with someone who was practically a stranger to him building a wall and calling for war and having turned half the people dream knew against him, apparently, for no reason that he could've known at the time, and he had looked straight at tommy and tubbo and asked if that was what they really wanted when wilbur told them that there was no such thing as dual citizenship. he tells tommy when he has to sell a disc for spirit's leather even though tommy had surrendered the discs to him at the end of the revolution because he knows it'll matter to him. he and tommy truce, multiple times, and c!dream gets tangled into conflicts that literally don't involve him repeatedly and gets targeted Because He's Dream repeatedly and he plays along with that trivia contest and he gives gifts to fundy and tommy after terrorizing them a little for fun and he plays along with the dreamon thing and he keeps getting pulled into fights that weren't his but tries to make them a little more fair when they get him involved. he fucks around with tommy and they have fun, they're friends, and when he and wilbur look like they're in danger dream is one of the first to find them and lend them real, practical, valuable aid. he calls himself "Big D" in that book and he tells the man that wrote him as a tyrant that he doesn't want to be a villain in the story anymore. he asks tommy if he's okay, and watches that kid's back when he walks alone and unarmed into manberg, and fights with him at the battle of the lake and all of that is thrown back in his face as being a lie. half the intial community structures that exist were built by him; the community house, the nether portal and hub, the prime path. during a time where every other piece of leverage got burned or killed (rip the casualties of the pet war), dream was kind of known for being one that could be fairly traded with, that would minimize permanent damage. the kills in the final control room were originally to strip lmanburg of their gear, which he had kept in a chest so it could be returned to them after the war.
like no c!dream isn't perfect at the beginning of the server. yes he's kind of a jerk sometimes, kind of an asshole sometimes, kind of neurotic most of the time. but god dammit like c!dream does try to mitigate the worst of his control issues, when they flare up early on; the initial disc war ends with tommy getting his discs back as well as a stack of diamonds, in exchange for a netherite chestplate. he's a flawed character and he's still someone pretty friendly on the whole to most of the server, he's also kind of just known for being a little weird. he gives gifts randomly. he fixed creeper holes, and houses, and went along with bits. like whatever im a c!drolo c!dream woobifier and i admit it lol but for as much evil as he ends up doing, pretty damn consistently early on, he's . friendly? kind? funny? helpful? their neighbor. their friend. c!dream isn't just some stranger that flew off the handle; he's someone they knew and lived with who had his actions taken in bad faith because the goddamn story said so and kept fucking trying anyway until he believed the lie too. like he was just a guy!! a guy they knew and lived with!!! like my god
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pavosnoctua · 2 days
Note
Hello~~~ Can I request for delusional! Darling reader x Yandere!Diluc? Pretty please?
Just two crazy people i'm love ♥️♥️ something like...
-Diluc forces darling!reader to marry him and instead of being scared darling! Reader goes like "He must love me very much, that's nice" (Reader basically accepts him as a Yandere)
I NEED INSANE CRAZY FLUFF BUT A LITTLE (very) TWISTED
HI ANON i hope this satisifies!
cw: mdni, minors dni, yandere, unhealthy behaviors, obsessive behaviors, unhealthy relationship, forced marriage, some offscreen but mentions of gaslighting. afab reader. mentions of isolation.
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"This isn't love," your friend tells you as she stands behind you, threading her fingers through your long hair. You frown at her through the mirror, your relationship with the Diluc Ragnvindr has been a point of contention between the two of you for a very long time. But she also stuck by you, no matter your attempts to gently push her out at the behest of your beloved. "You were crying a few weeks ago that you didn't want to get married, that it was too soon. And now, look at you, excited for your wedding that's today."
You wrinkle your nose. Diluc is right about her. She talks too much, tries to control your life.
"It has to be love," you refute with a frown. "I love him as much as he loves me. Why else would we be getting married?"
Your friend doesn't respond as she quietly works to put your hair up in a bun, as part of your wedding ensembled that he'd dictated.
"He isn't that bad of a man," you go onto explain to him. "He's helped me through some awful times, remember? Took me in, gave me a job...I love him, so please, accept that."
In all honestly, you're about as obsessed with him as he is with you - you cannot get him out of your mind, you willingly moved in with him when he asked you to, your friends slowly tapered out of your life because, "anyone could be dangerous, my flame. You need to be careful." and you agreed. Because you love him. And he knows more about the world than you do. Right?
Any woman he'd talk to, you'd glare at - outside of Jean and Lisa, you liked them. They were trustworthy, and while you know your beloved soon to be husband would never cheat on you, you were always worried they could do something more nefarious. Being able to go outside became a luxury, something you needed to gain permission for but it's all because he loves you.
When Diluc had told you that the two of you had to get married - there really is no other option, but never explaining why outside the idea of, it's for your own safety. and "We live together, so why not take it a step further?" He'd already signed the papers so you wouldn't have to worry yourself over all the bureaucracy of it all, the ceremony needs to happen and you can have fun planning it all. You felt as if there was something in life closing on you, but you didn't know what...
You hesitated - you did cry to your friend about it for awhile but you got upset when she told you that he was strange, it was strange that he'd just forge your signature like that and not even give you a chance to say no. It's sweet, you had argued. He loves me.
You're getting to marry the Diluc Ragvindr, who only does the things he does because he loves you just as much as you love him. He wouldn't do awful things intentionally, this is just how he is.
Once you are dressed, it is like you are in a fairytale - your wedding is everything you dreamed and more. Your friend still dislikes this idea but you softly tell her that's just who he is, don't worry about it.
When Diluc sees you, all your fears and worries disappear when he smiles at you.
You may be stepping into a gilded cage, but it's a beautiful one, and it's all because he loves you so much and it would break his heart if he lost you.
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yandere-sins · 1 day
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Yan-Poll #10
[The Stalker Part 2]
Strange was no longer an expression that could be used to describe your life.
Maddening chaos, a whirlwind of panic, fear, and more sinister things came to mind whenever someone asked you how you'd been. You don't even tell them anymore, some of them declaring you mad for still going on about your stalker after so many months, but there never being evidence to show them. They were scared for you in the beginning, but now they were suspicious of you.
You can feel him at all times. Sometimes, you think he brushes by behind you, or you feel his breath against your neck, his eyes on you at all times. But even so, you never met him. He's been there... and yet he wasn't. He never seems to need a day off from his stalking, his break-ins being more like him coming home every day, and neither the police nor security could catch him.
Even when he started delivering you more sinister gifts, like hands and eyes, whenever you refused him.
You pleaded, begged, and asked him to stop, but he was far from it. He allowed you to live your life, but only on his terms. You were to do what he wanted: eat the meals he prepared for you, take a bath when he ran it for you, and even take time off work when he requested it. Intrusively, he was taking over. And after all the misfortune it brought you, you simply... caved. You were so drained of strength that you let him do as he pleased.
It was a surprise that he even let you do things on your own, like buy groceries. Most meals were pre-made by him whenever you got home, but sometimes, he let you cook instead, expecting you to leave some for when he came to visit. He loved your cooking, expressed it so many times before, and 'rewarded' you for it, although it was never a surprise for him. He was watching you, after all. Every. Step. Of the way.
However, you acknowledged it was better than being stuck at home in fight or flight all day.
You dodged everyone at the grocery store, knowing that talking to someone would make him jealous. It was almost ridiculous how much you danced to his tune, but receiving the hand of a woman whose nails you complimented was lesson enough. Quickly, you gathered what you would need, before hurrying to the self-checkout and leaving the potential dangers of public, your heart aching for the times where you didn't need to fear for other's lives in every setting you were in.
Perhaps it was fate that made you go outside that day, the goodwill of the gods you had prayed to all this time. Still, nothing could have prepared you for the accident that took place just before you could reach your home. A car passed you by just moments before you heard the squeaking of breaks, then the deafening crash of machinery ramming into each other.
Screams echoed out before you could turn around, flames lighting up the early-evening darkness. You heard countless people's footsteps rushing out of their houses and passing you by as you stared at the scenery behind you. Sirens were blaring in the distance as you looked at the body lying on the ground, clothed in black. Someone tried to stabilize the person. Tried to help him.
You'd know him, even when he lay mangled and in pain on the dirty ground. Even without ever knowing his handsome face that became unraveled only when the paramedics deemed it safe enough to pull his helmet off. It was him. Your stalker.
When your eyes met, you witnessed a mixture of pain, devastation, but also... happiness in them. Perhaps because you finally knew. His existence was no longer a shadow that threatened you but a human who bled and hurt and deserved help, despite all his misdeeds. You should have felt sympathy for him, but you were so emotionally drained, you couldn't do anything.
But you also couldn't leave.
There was the person who had made your life a living hell. Who made sure you neither slept nor were awake for the last months, who even made you doubt yourself so many times. Who harassed and abused you to the point it made you want to give up resisting. You weren't sure how severe his injuries were, but part of you hoped he'd die. Perish. Disappear from your life.
And another part... wanted answers.
Why did he do all this, why go to such lengths? What was his goal, and why did he need to go about these things in these particular ways? Who were the body parts from, and where were these victims? What happened to them? And most importantly, why did he choose you?
You'd never have the answers if he died now. He'd be gone, but could you ever return to your old life without the answers? Could you live with yourself knowing people died and you survived by pure chance? Because something happened to him before he could do it to you? If he died, you'd never get justice for anyone. Everyone would keep believing you made all of this up. You'd be miserable, and he'd won.
As if he realized your inner tumult, he smiled before turning his head over and putting on his best pained expression towards the medics. Slowly, he raised his arm, pointing towards you and saying some words you couldn't hear, but the paramedics' heads snapped around, suddenly calling out to you.
"Hey! You're his spouse, right? Your husband needs to get to the hospital asap! You can drive with us!"
They didn't wait for you to respond before they started loading him on a gurney, your stalker never looking away from you. As if to say, "You want the answers? Come to me."
Your home was so close that you could run and hide inside, but you might lose the chance to ever get the answers that you'd want or need for your future therapy. Would you ever recover, not knowing if he survived or not? When he'd be back? This could be your last chance to figure things out and bring him to justice, or at least be sure he wouldn't come back to haunt you.
"Hurry!" one of the medics shouted, rushing to your side, perhaps to aid you as they might have thought you were in shock after seeing your husband like this. There was not much time, and you had to decide what you wanted to do immediately.
(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)
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chirpsythismorning · 2 days
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The Vanishing of BLANK Wheeler
I wanted to make a list, from least likely to most likely, for which Wheeler I think is going to go missing.
But I also wanted to give a little disclaimer first, that even if these titles are real, they could still be fake, or could even possibly change given how much time we still have until s5 actually premieres.
For s2-3, the Duffers literally released official promo videos announcing episode titles for their upcoming season, with some of them changing when the season finally premiered.
Like in the case of s3 for example, they dropped a s3 episode promo video only a day after they completed filming. Meaning them titling 3x06 The Birthday, made absolutely no sense. They knew they didn't film anything birthday related for that episode. So they intentionally gave that one a fake name.
In the case of s4, that was the first time they promoted an upcoming season without giving fake titles, with the s4 promo announcing them following through with what we ended up with when s4 finally dropped.
I guess I sort of assumed s5 would follow in s4's footsteps, but from a leak standpoint, it might be smart to remember that fake titles are still a possiblity regardless. Especially in this case, where it's getting to the point in production where leaks are unavoidable. And so that might even explain why they play with this idea of fake episodes, which is because they can rest easy knowing leaks will mostly consist of half fake titles they planted there.
But for the sake of this post, lets humor the title for episode 2.
For starters, it's worth noting that the person who shared this leak originally said 'BLANK wheeler'. So as far as I know, they did not give any number of letters via underscores (_) to hint at who this Wheeler could possibly be. It's when ST news accounts caught wind of the leak and started rolling out posts, replacing BLANK with 5 underscores, that led a lot of fans to assume that the Wheeler had to have 5 letters in their name, which would have obviously ruled out Ted and Mike. But since all the Wheeler's are still on the table based on the original leak, they will all be included in this list.
5. Ted Wheeler
Believe it or not, there is something that I think actually warrants considering Ted as a possiblity.
There were some posts @stranger-chichka made a while back, comparing visual parallels between Stranger Things and Chernobyl, which could be hinting at this concept of Ted being in danger.
TBH though I think Ted being in danger or ending up dead is a possiblity regardless of him actually being the missing Wheeler.
Technically speaking, quite literally no one on the show is ruled out from being in danger at this point, so that's not saying much.
And considering the show is going to need to kill off some people next season and they are insistent on not killing any of their leads, supporting characters amongst the ranks have a high risk at being taken out. The emotional connection for Ted from the audience isn't as strong as other characters, but at least him being in close relation to a few main characters is something? I mean, he's funny I guess?
Quite frankly I don't think it's likely nor do I think it would actually make sense narratively for Ted to be the one to go missing out of all of them. I think it's a lot more likely they'd just kill him off, hence the Chernobyl parallels which imply he's gonna die. And so wasting time by having him go missing, only to kill him, just doesn't track. I think they'd just get that over with without dragging it out for very long, if anything.
Can you just imagine someone on the show shouting emotionally, It's Dad (Ted). He's gone.' Like, okay... And? I have a hard time imagining the characters being in serious turmoil over this, at least not enough for it to warrant like final season stakes amongst a bunch of other crazy shit happening. At best, the characters would be indifferently guilty for getting him roped into all this.
So yeah, I really don't see it happening.
4. Nancy Wheeler
I honestly feel like Nancy is even less likely to go missing than Ted, but the un-seriousness of an episode titled The Vanishing of Ted Wheeler is so astronomical, that I really had no choice but to put him last.
The reason I think Nancy is just very unlikely to go missing is because they technically already had her go missing as a cliffhanger between Vol 1 and 2 last season. It would just fall flat if they repeated something along those lines, with that same character, 3 episodes later. Vecna could have killed her and yet he didn't. His point was to send her a message, which was why he did what he did and then released her. The choice to target Nancy and taunt her about her family's safety in the first place, felt like their attempt at foreshadowing the danger that is to come for all of them, but one specifically. One of them that is not her. Which will make this moment back in s4 feel a lot more impactful upon rewatches.
So yeah, not feeling like Nancy is very likely.
3. Karen Wheeler
Karen is sort of a hard nut to crack all around. In the case that she is somehow connected to the Creels (Alice), anything is possible in terms of not only her being targeted, but again the entire family being at risk in some capacity. Without much to go off of outside of the obvious very haphazard timeline confusion, I feel like putting her somewhere in the middle. She was given a poster for s4. If she is Alice, then yeah it would make sense to target her. The stakes are also a lot stronger in comparison to Ted, because she was the parent in the family that actually came to Mike or Nancy and told them verbally that she wanted them to open up to her and is actually shown trying on several occasions. Whereas Ted is sort of just there when he's on screen. So the characters' distress would be a lot more dire and interesting to see unfold amongst everyone.
I also remember there being a leak in relation to Karen, Holly, Mike and Nancy all being at the hospital filming. And this was also like a day or so after ST dropped a video of Cara saying she was filming that day to hype up fans. So that leak did check out on the Karen front at least. Which puts her at the hospital at some point, potentially along with the rest of the Wheelers. Now that I'm thinking about it though, this could all fit with a Ted Wheeler death...
At this point, I'm sort of like indifferent to the possiblity, but it's still more likely than Ted and Nancy to me.
2. Holly Wheeler
It all goes back to s1, when Karen was visiting the Byers to console Joyce after Will went missing, when Holly sort of ventures off to Will's room, being guided by the lights, and sees the demogorgan in the wall.
I feel like people overlook this moment too, because it's kind of crazy that Holly has seen UD shit for herself. She was young enough that she could rule it out as just imagining things. And that could be partly the case even if she is skeptical.
There is something about Holly that makes her curious and sort of open to this world that most around her have no idea exists. And yet simultaneously some of the people closest to her do know about it and could easily clue her in when the time comes to do so, and because of that, I think she would probably be able to believe it all a lot faster than others.
Maybe this is a story where things need to happen and it just always ends up this way, but she has this tendency to be included in things that feel very important. Like in s4 with her playing with the lite-brite, and how that ended up being used to communicate with the others in the UD. There's this almost clairvoyance vibe about her. Her feeling the need to follow the Christmas lights to Will's room and her noticing and then fixating on the trees in s3.
Like I said, I don't know if it's something deeper, but it very well could be in the case she is connected to the Creels.
And while that is all somewhat compelling, at the same time it also feels very convoluted. Even if the Wheelers are Creels, I don't think that means the Wheelers would have powers, given that Henry got them when he was a child, meaning none of his family could have gotten them unless they too were taken in by the lab at some point, or were born with it.
Though I'm being full serious when I say the theories about Mike having time powers or maybe just manifestations from his emotions connected to the powers of others around him is one of my favorite theories of all time. I want it to happen. It would be cool. But that just opens the door to all of the Wheelers in my opinion, assuming his time powers came from being related to Henry. And if it was done that way, I feel like it would add way too much confusion to the story, where now all the Wheelers are gonna need to have powers, and then as a result would just takes away from the uniqueness that is already associated with Henry, El and potentially Will. One person potentially having powers without us knowing until the end aka Will, is enough honestly. Adding the Wheelers to the mix might be a bit much.
I'm also not totally convinced of the Wheeler's being Creels, and yet I also can't seem to want to rule it out entirely. But the prospects of Holly having powers or some sort of ability and just going through the same thing as Will when he was young and unaware of his powers, who is just now finding out the truth about his experiences... It just feels like serious whiplash honestly, when they haven't spent much of any time on Holly up to this point.
Like what are the stakes here exactly? What makes her disappearance and what that would look like compelling, on her front specifically? Because sure, I can see it being compelling watching the perspective of those around her reacting to this, what they would do to try to save her and all that, but what does that mean for her exactly? Are we going to see what she's doing? Are they going to hide it from us like they did with Will and then have to spend even more time uncovering it later on. And what does she even gain from being alone and taunted by Vecna presumably? What does the audience gain from witnessing that sort of event? There isn't a lot of story to explore there, outside of maybe making direct parallels to Will in s1? And then wouldn't that sort of take away from the importance of Will's role in it all just now being uncovered, if it all just repeats for Holly?
Which brings me to something that I see a lot of people using as strong evidence for why it has to be Holly, which is the fact that they recast her character.
What I think people are failing to consider is the fact that the twins who were cast to play Holly originally, were like 3-4 years old while filming s1. They weren't just kid actors, they were damn near baby actors. And while I know a big part of the reason why they gave Holly such few lines over the years was because the actors were aging way faster than the character they played, I think another factor could have been the fact that their acting experience is near nothing outside of Stranger Things, which is also pretty little on its own as well given that they have very few lines on the show.
It's not at all uncommon for child actors, let alone toddler actors to leave the industry once they start getting older. It could be for personal reasons, like wanting to explore other ventures, or it could be that they just don't perform as well with all the added expectations that come with acting as a character who is a kid with a lot of lines vs. a baby with 2 lines.
The girls got cast because at the time, they were able to perform as well as a 3 year old possibly could and would be expected to be in that role. But does that skill carry forth as they grew older? When now they have to deliver full sentences and carry conversations for scenes that are longer than 5 minutes? They've never really had to do that up to this point. Is it something that they feel comfortable with doing? Is their performance believable and is it something the writers feel confident about?
Honestly, I think they might have recast Holly, not because I think she is going to be targeted and focused on as this missing person they have to find, going through a near identical situation to 11 year old Will, but because they simply want her to be more apart of the story in general. And maybe because either the twins and/or the production didn't feel that they would be able to perform it in the way that they wanted it to be done.
And I mean, even if Holly isn't the one to go missing, one of the Wheelers is going to go missing based on this leak. If it was one of her parents, she would get a lot more scenes than she has in the past. If it was one of her siblings, again it would make sense for her to be more involved with the story. No matter what she is going to have a bigger role.
So no I don't think her being recast is as strong enough of proof as some might believe. If anything I think there is much stronger evidence that, like Karen, if they are related to the Creels, Holly is as fair game as any of them. The stakes could be high because she i such s a child. And her parents and Nancy and Mike worrying about her seems like something they would obviously do because she is so innocent and completely ill-equipped to endure something like that. But like I said, I just can't picture an focus like that on her, for her character, being very compelling given that Holly isn't really someone that needs like alone time with us witnessing it...
But there is one Wheeler left, and boy oh boy would he benefit from being alone.
1. Mike Wheeler
The most simple explanation for why it makes sense for it to be Mike, is that he genuinely benefits more than anyone when it comes to being alone with his thoughts, and with the audience watching. There's a lot of stuff dude has to work through in his own head, and since they haven't really let us have a moment alone with him that isn't under ten seconds since s3, an episode or two dedicated to making that a priority would make him coming back and things building up to the end, feel a lot more earned.
The audience needs to feel confident about how Mike feels about things. It can't be a guessing game for much longer when so many different factors are involved.
And while I think Mike may be the strongest possiblity in terms of the value it would add to the overall story is compelling enough to put him at number 1, the evidence supporting it happening is even stronger.
If we want to be crazy we can go back to the beginning. Plenty of fans have already speculated about how Mike is always late at the start of every season and how that might play into the beginning of season 5 again. I made a post about this recently and speculated it would happen one last time around the 15 minute mark. And maybe I was wrong... but maybe I was also right? Because if the second episode is called The Vanishing of Mike Wheeler, it's likely Mike's fate wouldn't be confirmed by the opening of 5x01, but in fact the closing scene of 5x01.
Throughout the show Mike plays a key role in leading the others, he's even referred to as 'the key' in s3 by Hopper. You know this show and their keys, they don't joke about that sort of thing. It's likely that Mike's story and what it is leading to is going to be central to how all of this ends.
Also in s3, there is one scene in particular that I think could be hinting at Mike being targeted, along with the s4 main poster with all of the characters. In the poster, we see El at the top, with Max and Mike as near equals on each side of her. Of course their roles are central and that's a fair layout on it's own arguably, but the equal-ness provided to Mike and Max feels very intentional. While she is slightly bigger than Mike in the frame, that could be a hint in regards to her being central now in s4, with Mike joining the mix alongside her in s5. Honestly, they could have made it so these two were beside other characters that also played a huge role in s4, and yet they chose those two to give a specific focus to. I think that is interesting (and probably intentional).
But if I'm being honest, there are so many moments in s4 specifically that hint at Mike being in danger, that I will not be able to include it all in detail in this post. So I'm going to link those below and then build off of some of it with some new details I've recovered that are worth re-contextualizing again with all of this in mind.
Hints regarding Mike and Will being targets of the town, but Mike specifically being focused on after the word 'missing' is said...
I'm gonna expand on this one because I think it's important to recognize the massive curtain in the background as this is all happening. And I vaguely reference this concept here as well which is worth checking out. But not is this whole concept of the curtain pretty blatant in this episode, this scene of the town all fleeing to hunt down hellfire club, is followed directly after, by this:
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Notice how Mike is nearly always central in these moments? And how what follows feels eerily similar to what is about to go down at the end of s4 aka Suzie = Mike.
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Now, this has already been talked about plenty so I won't go into detail, but... based on everything else happening surrounding this, this would apply to Mike in the sense that not only is he not in love with El, he's gay and in love with Will aka a boy. A BOY!
And then this mention of 'the terrible truth'. This word has been used like 3 times in the last few minutes. First intensely during Jason's speech about a terrible truth, with Ted and Karen being focused on with the Mike and Will extra in the background.
But what is even more crazy is that what follows sort of seals the deal for me that, this IS about Mike and it's foreshadowing what is about to come in s5.
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5:02... 5x02!!!!
Also peep the watch and the letter from Dustin under it... I don't want to speculate but lettergate is looking extra relevant within all of this as well...
And to close off this point, lets show the shot that follows directly after this one.
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Then later in the season, after Nancy is back from being taken by Vecna, here we have this long and emotional pause before she says Mike's name, last after her mom and Holly.
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If they wrote and filmed this scene, knowing Mike would be the Wheeler missing early s5, it would make sense for them to list off the characters like this.
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Mike peeking in the frame at this moment is not suspicious at all...
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If it wasn't enough that Jason hyped up the whole town to see the Hellfire club as their enemy responsible for all of this, here we have a focus on Mike specifically being targeted by Jason.
The Duffer's statement about the show overall in the Piggyback script, and I gotta say it fits Mike a lot more than any of the other Wheelers.
Mike is a Paladin. And when they break an oath, they might spend an all-night vigil as a sign of penitence... aka everything is going to come to a head and Mike is going to be alone dealing with this shit for a bit, until he can come back ready to face it.
And I know it's controversial, but this post explains perfectly why Mike being central to this would make the show go full circle in a really compelling way.
Mike hasn't really unpacked...
Karen lookalike standing in front of the missing persons board. Could be any one of them but still, considering the costume of this extra looks closer to what Karen was wearing when she reunited and hugged Mike... I'm gonna put it more so with him.
Mike's guilt and shame regarding the past and what it has led them to could also play a big role and why him going missing would be worthwhile to explore. Part 1 / Part 2
Mike paralleling Yuri, who eventually reveals the truth (in his pocket) after stalling. If Mike parallels him all throughout the start of that moment, what does that mean for how it ends for Mike?
An antique funeral home fan behind Mike in the s4 character promo photos in the Creel attic, how Mike is seen sitting before Will sits beside him shortly after and it involving upside down imagery, Mike's first line in the show being used to later foreshadow his fate in early s5, and also bringing it back to Suzie's house which I already went into but it might be helpful to look at it again from this lens.
The Duffers would not pass up on the opportunity to parallel Mike with Finn's other character Richie in IT, which is literally based on a book that heavily inspired ST in the first place. And how all of that plays into the queer-coding for Mike going all the way back to s1.
The Duffers revealed after posting the funko-pop shotplanning pictures (2) that they were finished with planning for 5x01-5x02.... meaning this shot of Mike all by himself, is going to occur in one of those episodes...
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We could still hypothesize Holly is the one to be taken, given that she doesn't have a funko and so they couldn't include her here regardless. But the fact that Nancy is with the other seems to imply to me that they are all likely working together to get Mike back, who is alone.
This one is a little more hard to pinpoint for sure, but it comes from a BTS Ross posted recently.
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We are clearly in the Wheeler's house here. And if you zoom in, it looks like someone is standing (hiding?) behind a doorway/curtain. And the only person that seems to fit it imo is Mike... But why would he be hiding in his own house...?
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It just makes me think about what is going on with Mike in early s5. What would be occurring that has him in this sort of situation? And it makes me wonder if him going missing has solely to do with him being taken and gone in one single moment, or if it could involve him avoiding his family and others potentially, with him being taken after that.
Lastly, I'm going to go into more choppy territory, stuff I know only a couple of people will actually consider. But it is pretty fucking fitting of what is about to go down so I can't not mention it.
In the Puzzle Tales' most recent Hellfire Campaign, this is the title...
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Like the whole chapter is just a big joke on Mike about him being scared to be alone, which is painfully ironic if this is the direction the show is about to go for the next 2 upcoming episodes.
And then we have a song WSQK posted on Twitter back in January. I know people don't believe that this account is connected with anyone in the production, which is fair because I myself rarely believe leaks from anonymous accounts as it is. But I've been keeping up with it and it genuinely doesn't seem like a fan could come up with these songs.
The song I'm about to mention is the 7th song they posted, called Army Dreamers by Kate Bush. And you might fight it sounds a lot like the situation Mike might find himself in in early s5.
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And though I'm sure I didn't cover everything, I feel like all the things I've mentioned and referenced from other posts are plenty to at least consider this as opposed to rejecting it all together.
At the end of the day I think there are some valid arguments for all of them to some extent. And quite frankly all of the Wheelers and most of the characters in the show will find themselves in danger in a way that is going to probably last longer than just one single moment the entire season. So even if it's just one of them, I don't think that rules out the others playing a bigger role in what is going down.
I just think narratively, there is one person that benefits from being on-screen and alone with their thoughts. And the other 4 being confronted with what that person discovers eventually will also make all of this a lot more worthwhile than any of the other options in my opinion.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 days
Text
Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)
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I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀
Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit
2.6k words
<3<3<3<3<3
The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.
“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”
An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 
“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 
There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.
Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.
Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.
The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.
“Are you chilly, darling?”
The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 
The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”
“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”
“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”
“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”
A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”
It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”
He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”
“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.
“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”
“I-”
“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”
“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.
“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.
And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 
Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.
“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”
“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.
It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.
“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”
You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.
One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.
“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.
“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”
He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”
“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.
“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 
A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.
It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.
“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”
Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”
You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”
“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”
You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”
His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”
“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.
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iamasimperyk · 1 day
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Just a little help -Rafe Cameron
Warnings: Corruption, Anger Issues, Not proof read, English is not my first language
Pairing: Grumpy!Rafe x Sunshine!Reader
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You hated Rafe. He was a grumpy guy while you were a ray of pure sunshine. The fact that he was a Kook while you were a Pogue didn't make things any better.
You couldn't go to the other side of the island without him making rude comments. Of course, they hurt you, but by now, you were pretty much used to it.
"Where are your little friends? After our last encounter, I thought they understood that letting you walk home all by yourself is not a good idea." Rafe grinned like a maniac.
"It gets boring, you know. Everything you can do is insult the Pogues and me. If you have something new, please let me know." You smiled at him, patting his chest. 
You have always followed your instincts without hesitation. And right now, it felt right to pat Rafe's chest.
"Don't touch me with your dirty hands, Pogue." He hissed, turning around to leave.
You took a deep breath, not believing what you were about to do, "Rafe?"
After you called out his name, he turned around quickly, clearly annoyed, "What?"
"Who hurt you?" You asked carefully, to not make him even more upset. You knew it was a cliche moment, but you loved all this corny shit.
Rafe looked at you for a few seconds before he started to laugh. He was laughing directly in your face after you tried to be nice to him for once.
"I suggest you go back to your fucking side of the island and stop asking me shit." He said after calming down his laughter, his tone dangerously low.
"Come on, Rafe, you can tell me. I am actually a very good listener." You tried once again, wanting to help him.
He walked to you as fast as he could, "Listen, Pogue, I know what you are trying to do, and I can guarantee you, it won't work. Did your friends send you to me? Did they think I would go easy on you because you are known as the sunshine of the Cut?"
You quickly shook your head, "I just came from work, so it was a total coincidence that I met you."
The tension was so thick that it seemed like it could have been cut with a knife.
"Look, Rafe, you hate me, and I don't even know why. Everybody told me I was supposed to hate you as well, so I did it. I promise I am here to help you." You looked into his blue eyes, finding some sort of comfort in them.
Rafe Cameron was speechless. Never had anyone wanted to him, and now you, a Pogue, stood in front of him.
"You want to help me to get rid of my anger?" He asked, to which you nodded. 
That was all Rafe needed to see before he pressed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen in disbelief, not expecting something like this. 
"Now, I feel better." He smirked after pulling away.
"Why would you do that?" You raised your voice at him.
The answer was he didn't know it. He never thought about you in any sexual way, but the way you looked at him, he just had to corrupt you. And that's exactly what he did.
A year later
"Here," You smiled down at Rafe, handing him a glass of whisky.
He pulled you onto his lap, kissing you roughly, "Thank you, what would I do without my little ray of sunshine."
It was like he brainwashed you. You did everything for him, just like he wanted it all those years. He finally had someone who didn't say anything against the things he did. And he intended to keep it that way.
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sp00kymulderr · 3 days
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just a touch
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Dieter Bravo (x afab!reader)
980 words
warnings: m masturbation, afab!reader mentioned, writer Dieter being horny af, unedited.
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Does anyone else ever spend all their day thinking about...
Dieter Bravo jerking off.
About how he draws it out for hours because he loves to be teased, even if he's teasing himself. He'll watch something filthy (he's got a great selection of porn, some homemade) or look at those nudes you sent him. But he refuses to touch himself the whole time, as he gets harder and more desperate for it.
He likes the luxury of getting off in bed, on his expensive soft sheets, or in the shower with the warm water running all over his body. He gets really sensitive the longer he holds off, so he'll give it as long as he possibly can. If he really wants to drive himself crazy, he'll force himself to go do something else after getting all turned on from whatever he chose to watch - something super mundane like read his many emails, or tidy up whatever mess was left out last night.
Usually though, he'll go to the big full length mirror in his bedroom, slowly take his clothes off, appreciate his own body. He spent a long time struggling with his body image, but nowadays he loves what he sees. His broad chest, the softness of his tummy, and then the bulge in his pants before he slowly peels them off. He's never been anything but proud of his dick. As far as cocks go he's got a pretty one, everyone always says it. He's still not touching it, not now as he appreciates the view of it in the mirror. His hands might come close, as his fingers softly feel their way around his own body, mapping paths you've taken as you've explored him yourself. He'll play with his nipples, pinch at the sensitive parts of his torso and grasp his stomach, appreciate the soft feel of it. He wishes you were there right now, but he'll make do with what he's got. Himself.
Finally...oh finally he makes his way on to his bed, sat with his back against the headboard with his legs spread wide. The mirror is angled just right, so he has a good view of himself from there. He's a little flushed, cheeks reddened. He's leaking precum, made himself so fucking desperate for his own hand. He looks really good, and he knows it.
He'll use whatever is closest, spit or lube or lotion. He isn't picky. Sometimes he'll use a toy too, depending on what he wants to feel and how quick he wants to get off. He loves playing with things that vibrate but they tend to make him come quicker than he likes so he doesn't use them too often - better when you're trying to overstimulate him to tears. Usually he'll use a butt plug when he's on his own, he likes his ass nice and full as often as it can be.
Now he takes himself in his hand, and the moan he makes at that first touch is sinful. He starts off painfully slow, teeth gritted in concentration as he tries to zone in on every single thing he's feeling as his fists glides up and down his cock. He'll think of you now the most, of the drag of your cunt up his dick. Or the warmth of your mouth on him. He'll bring up every memory he has of you and him together, the way you look when he's in you. The way you cry out as he thrusts into you for the first time. God, he can't take it this slow anymore.
As he quickens his pace, the noises he makes would make anyone blush. Dieter is never quiet like this. He loves to be heard, even if it's only him who can hear it right now. More, and more, and more. His free hand is playing with his balls, gentle tugs and squeeze that makes him tense dangerously and groan in pleasure.
Will he slow down now, calm himself down before he starts up again? Well, he'll try but at this point he's possessed by the need to come. He tries to be good, he really does. The way you like it, every last drop teased out of him but holding off for as long as he possibly can You tell him to be good, but you're not here right now and he can't quite bring himself to be that good.
He'll confess later, you can punish him if you want.
He's gasping out, a needy thing, beautiful noises of absolute heady pleasure. Eyes zoning back in just enough to watch as he brings himself to the edge. His favourite part to watch, as his movements falter and his balls tighten and with a loud cry he's spilling ropes of his cum onto his lower belly, onto his fingers, wherever it goes. Messy, he loves it that way. He pulls out every last drop he can, until its too much.
His head falls back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut as he heaves out heavy breaths while his body trembles slightly from the climax. After a moment or two, he'll bring his hand up to his mouth and lick it clean. Dip his fingers into the mess he made and taste himself. It makes him groan, he tastes so fucking good. You always tell him the same, and he knows you're not lying.
In the time it takes him to regain his thoughts, he's laid himself down on the bed properly, sprawled out and a little dozy. He gets sleepy after he's come, but not enough to actually fall asleep. He just likes to bask in the feeling for a little while while he recovers. He bury his face in the pillow that still smells of you, and close his eyes and just enjoy the moment.
And if he really needs it today...he'll make it all happen again in a couple hours.
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watcherintheweyr · 3 days
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'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'
1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.
2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.
Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???
[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]
3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.
Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*
Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.
Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.
It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.
As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.
(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)
Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.
Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.
Anyways, moving on.
You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.
Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.
And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'
Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.
Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.
Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.
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five-rivers · 22 hours
Text
Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 15
@greatbigolhampuckjustforme
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“Only one left,” said Danny, uneasily.  Working by the process of elimination…  If any of the people on this list were his actual, biological parents, as Frostbite had feared, then it was these two.  
Jazz, obviously, wasn’t his mother.  He’d known that from basically the moment they’d met.  Vlad, Frostbite, and Pandora had confirmed that fact, and their stories had matched too well with each other for them to be lying.  Unless, of course, the whole trial was a lie and they were all working together, and Danny was hesitant to go down that path.  
The Observants, too, could be crossed off with ease.  The Observants were public and impersonal enough that Danny had remembered them despite his amnesia.  He’d never heard of them having children.  And their behavior during his trial… well.  Maybe they’d behave that way around their actual children, but Danny doubted it.  
Vlad hadn’t even claimed to be his father.  Of course, he’d also heavily implied that Danny’s biological parents were dead.  So there was that.  He was also a liar.  So there was that.  But, again, Danny didn’t think Vlad was his actual parent.  The Dairy King would have told him if he was.  
Frostbite and Pandora had also denied any blood relationship with him, although they still both wanted him to pick them.  Pandora did, at least.  Frostbite had seemed more lukewarm about it.  Maybe even cool, to use a pun.  Not that Frostbite disliked Danny.  He was participating in this to help Danny.  Just… Yeah.  
Then there was the trio, which, um.  Yeah.  Definitely not.  
So.  If his parents were actually involved, and not dead, then they had to be these two.  Unless Pandora or Frostbite or Vlad was lying about not being his parent, which he didn’t think any of them would do, because that would be counterproductive.  Wouldn’t it?
Double-think made his head hurt.  
“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “Only Jack and Maddie Fenton are left.  Then, when you have seen them, you must make your decision.”
“And I can choose anyone?”
“Yes.  You may choose anyone you wish to choose.”
“Hm,” said Danny.  He spread himself out over the couch and dropped the file folder on the coffee table.  “Anyone, anyone?”
“That is the policy, to ensure that children are placed appropriately.”
“So, like, if I decided I wanted to go with the Dairy King but not Vlad…?”
“That is a possibility,” said Clockwork.  “As in, you could choose for Dairy King alone to have custody of you, with the understanding that Vlad would likely still be a significant part of his social circle and afterlife.”
“Huh,” said Danny.  “What if I picked, like, Ember?”
“You could do that.”
“But you wouldn’t recommend it, huh?”
“My recommendation is immaterial,” said Clockwork.  “I am a neutral party.”
“Yeah, but I can still ask you questions.  What if I want your opinion?”
“I am not allowed to give it.”
“Right,” said Danny.  He looked over the file.  “You know, they have, like, the least stuff on their little cheat sheet out of anyone.  Except the Observants.  Theirs was really… lackluster.”
“Indeed?” said Clockwork, with just the faintest inflection at the end to turn it into a question instead of an agreement.
“Mhm.”  Jack and Maddie, no listed last name, didn’t have much written on their page of the file.  Apparently they liked making cookies, stargazing, needlepoint, sewing, and… that was it.  Nothing about jobs, titles, other interests, other things they enjoyed.  Nothing.
The stargazing was a good point, though.  Danny was pretty sure he liked stargazing.  If only he’d had a chance to do it…  Ugh.  Being stuck inside was getting more and more annoying.  
Distressing.  
Almost as distressing as Frostbite thinking that Danny’s biological parents were abusive.  
“You said before, everyone is, like, vetted?  So they won’t be… dangerous?”
“That is correct.”
“But the Observants still were allowed to do whatever it was they were trying to do.”
“Unfortunately, persons who possess authority will on occasion use that authority to put themselves in even more positions of authority.”
“Except you can’t tell me any of your opinions.”
“Correct,” said Clockwork.  
“You’re funny.”
“Not many would say that.”
“That’s because you’re really– really oblique about it.”
“Perhaps.”
Danny sighed.  “I should just go right away, shouldn’t I?  I should stop agonizing about this.”
“It is up to you, Daniel.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Danny made no move to get off the couch.  “What are you doing over there, anyway?”
Clockwork twisted his hands around to show Danny a net of white string.  “I’ve taken up lacemaking.”
“Ugh, see, I’ve been wasting so much of your time that you’ve picked up a new hobby.  That’s crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say that it’s new,” said Clockwork.  “Lace has been around for a long time.”
“New to you, then.  Like, your original hobby is making clocks, right?”
“I also enjoy candlemaking and gardening.  But this,” Clockwork held up the lace, “was always within my plans.”
“Uh huh,” said Danny.  
“It is almost time for lunch.  You could stay until then.”
“See?  I’ve wasted the whole morning.  I came back last night.  And that was a day trip.”  He sighed.  “What would lunch be?”
“I was planning on fried rice, using the remaining rice from last night.”
“I thought you’d made a lot of rice that time,” said Danny.  “Yeah, let’s do that.”
.
Jack and Maddie’s house was… Well, it looked like it had been a normal house.  The entryway was done up with plain tile, and opened up into a high-ceilinged living room.  Danny could see a set of stairs leading up one side of the living room to the second floor, where there were a number of doors.  On the ground floor, there was an open doorway leading into a kitchen.  
That was all fine.  However, the walls, ceiling, and floors all looked like they’d been torn apart and put together again.  Sometimes with proper tools like plaster and drywall, and sometimes with cardboard and duct tape.  There were dark squares and ovals where picture frames may have hung.  He could see an electrical outlet that had been pulled out of the wall and hastily put back in, without all the wires fitting.  Near his elbow were the remains of what looked like a doorbell.  Bits of insulation hung out of gaps between the original walls and the repairs.  
It wasn’t quite as strange or as messy overall as Ember, Skulker, and Technus’s place, but the contrast was… weird.  Everyone else was obviously trying to put their best foot forward and had cleaned up or acquired a whole new house.  This… this was not that.  
At least, he hoped it wasn’t.  Because if this was their best, then what was their usual?
He turned his attention to the two humans who had been waiting for him to arrive.  They were human.  The man was tall and broad, with dark hair.  He was wearing overalls over an orange button up.  His sleeves were rolled up, and he was scratching at a rash on his arm.  The woman was slim and much shorter, her auburn hair cut in a chin-length bob.  She had a pale blue blouse on, and dark jeans.  
He caught their eyes, one after another.  
“Hi,” said the woman, in a wavering voice.  “Welcome home, Danny.”
“Um,” said Danny, “hi.  Are you Maddie?  The file didn’t really say which one of you was which… or really anything about yourselves…?”
“Yes,” said Maddie, with a painful smile.  She looked like she was about to cry.  “I’m Maddie, this is Jack.  We’re so happy to have you here.  So happy.”  She took his hands in hers and squeezed them.  
“Okay?”  He looked around.  “So…  You’re remodeling?”
“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’re sorry about that, but all of this came as such a surprise.”
“A big surprise, son,” said Jack.  His voice sounded rough, like he’d been crying.  “All of the important things are done, though!  Everything’s safe!  Just not very pretty, that’s all.  Just looks different.”
“Like you,” said Maddie, quickly.  “Not that that’s a bad thing, is it?  We’re very–  The ears and the tail– Those are new but not bad.  This is just like that.”
Danny nodded, hesitantly.  “Right.  That’s cool.  So, um.”  He looked around the entryway again.  “Show me around?”
“Right, right,” said Maddie.  “Of course.”
“Sorry about that!” said Jack.  “It’s just that you grew up here and all.  You don’t remember that, but it’s hard for us to remember it.  To remember that you, er, don’t remember.”  Jack patted Danny’s shoulder gingerly.
“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’ll– We’ll do the main floor first, then the bedrooms upstairs.”
The tour of the ground floor went much as expected.  He saw the living room, a number of closets (which looked like they’d been ransacked), the garage (suspiciously empty), a bathroom (strangely untouched), a dining room (dusty), and the kitchen.  
His initial impression of the kitchen matched his impression of the house in general.  Normal, but hastily altered.  There was a long strip of torn-up wall near the refrigerator.  The microwave was brand new to the point that the box it came in was still sitting next to it.  There was a door-sized patch of new wall that matched up with scratches on the floor that strongly suggested the patch had been a door up until fairly recently.  
This… this was suspicious.  Should he ask about it?  Play dumb?
“Now, up to the rooms!” said Jack, sweeping Danny out of the kitchen.  
“Usually,” said Maddie, “your sister Jazz would be here, but right now she’s away, so it’s just the three of us.”
“Why?”
“Why what, Danno?” asked Jack.  
“Why is she away?”
“College,” said Maddie, quickly.  “She’s a couple years older than you are, so she’s away at college.  The two of you were very close, though.”
“Best friends!” shouted Jack from his position at the top of the stairs.
Well, there was that confirmation.  Jazz was definitely his sister.  
… Jazz actually looked a lot like Maddie, so that was also a point in favor of Maddie and Jack being his actual parents.  Which, uh.  Did being shady run in the family?  Did he come off like this to other people?  He hoped not.  
“Which one was her room?” asked Danny.  
“This one,” said Jack.  Then he pointed towards a room two doors down.  “And this is yours!  You two shared the bathroom, but she’s not here, so it’s all yours, too!”
“Cool,” said Danny.  He slipped past Jack to the door and opened it.  
The walls and ceiling of the room were a pale blue gray, glow in the dark stars just barely visible in contrast.  Posters for bands and spaceships were taped to the wall, some of them in better repair than others.  There was a dresser with a drawer sticking part way out, the sleeve of a shirt stopping it from fully closing.  Model rockets, most of them clumsily made, sat on shelves beside other knick-knacks.  A corkboard on the wall had schoolwork, ribbons, and a few crumpled tickets to movies and concerts pinned on it.  A scooter and telescope were propped up in one corner.  
“They had us take down your photographs,” said Maddie.  “But we left everything else the way it was.  Except for cleaning.”
“Something about being biased!  As if knowing things is going to make you biased!  Maybe if we’d known–”
“Jack, honey,” said Maddie.  “Not the time.”
“Oh, right, sorry, son.”
Danny nodded, then stepped in to walk a circuit of the room.  This room, more than any of the others he had stayed in, felt lived in.  Like it was a home.  
But he couldn’t forget Frostbite’s warning.  Or the chaos downstairs.  
“So, um,” said Danny, before he could wimp out.  He held the pocketwatch in one hand.  Just in case.  “In the kitchen, you have a door covered up.  What’s with that?”
“Uh, nothing,” said Jack.  
“Just an unfinished basement,” said Maddie, her smile going brittle and fake.  “That’s all.  It wasn’t– It wasn’t safe down there.  For children.  It wasn’t built right.  So we decided to just cover it up.  To show that we’re prepared to keep you safe.”
There was a mad science lab down there, wasn’t there?  
What if that was where he had died?
Danny swallowed and pasted on a smile.  “Cool.  So… what do we do together?”
They stared blankly at him.  
“You know, for fun?  Or hanging out?”
“We used to stargaze together a lot,” said Maddie.  
“And we’d go fishing!” boomed Jack.  
“Yeah, but we can’t really do either of those, right?  We’re stuck inside.”
“That’s true…  But we do have our movies, don’t we?  And some games.”
“Righto!” said Jack.  “I’ll go get the stuff!”
.
The movie they had finally settled on was a space documentary.  Watching it was nice, even if the popcorn was a little burnt.  
Watching Jack and Maddie try to cook dinner afterward, though…  They seemed to keep reaching for things that weren’t there, or bumping into each other, like they expected there to be more room, or, well.  The food looked presentable enough, but there was a mess.  A big one.  
Still, the macaroni and cheese looked and smelled fine.  
“One of your favorites!” said Jack, proudly.  “After this, we’ll have some fudge!”  He served Danny a scoop bigger than his head, then took a big ceramic mug from the cabinet and filled it with soda.
Danny mentally shrugged and picked up his fork.  If he couldn’t eat it, he couldn’t eat it.  
“So,” he said, after eating a few bites, “how did the whole ghost thing happen?”
“Pardon?” asked Maddie, looking a little pale.  
“Well, my situation is a bit weird, isn’t it?  I was just wondering if you knew how it happened.”
“No,” said Maddie.  “I’m afraid not.  It’s a mystery to us, too.  Like we said, we were surprised by all of… this.”
That was weird.  If Jazz knew, shouldn’t they know, too?
Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell him.  
He fiddled idly with the mug.  There were clumsy, childish stars and moons painted on its side.  
“Do you like it?” asked Maddie.  “You painted that.  We went to one of those pottery places for Jazz’s seventh birthday.  You were both so young back then…”
“I did?” asked Danny. 
“You did,” said Maddie.  “If you look at the bottom, you’ll see your initials.”
Danny held the cup up over his head and looked at the bottom.  The letters DJF were painted on the bottom.  
“What do the J and F stand for?”
“James Fenton,” said Maddie.  “James was Jack’s father’s name.”
“And Fenton?”
“Our name.  Our family name.”
“Huh,” said Danny.  He set the mug back down, but kept his fingers looped around the handle of the mug.  It was… grounding, somehow, to touch something from his childhood, from his past.  “Do you know why this, um, trial was started?”  He took another bite of the macaroni and cheese so he had something to do with his other hand.  
“No,” said Maddie, quickly.  
“Maddie…”
“We don’t.”
Alright, then.
It was suddenly very hard to swallow.  
“We don’t know.  We don’t know why any of this happened.  But we’re so glad you’re with us again.  We’re so glad this is almost over.”
“I know!” shouted Jack, suddenly, making Danny, already tense, jerk sideways in alarm.  “When this is over, we can go back to that place and make another–”
Danny had still been holding the mug, and when he flinched, he took the mug with him.  He fumbled it briefly before it hit the ground, interrupting whatever Jack was saying and plashing soda everywhere.  
“Oops,” said Danny, stricken.  “Sorry.  I’m really sorry, um.”  He had telekinesis.  Why couldn’t he just–  
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Jack, kneeling and picking up the pieces.  
“I can do that,” said Danny.  “You don’t have to–”
“No, no, I’ve got it,” said Jack.  “We’ll just put it right back together!  A little superglue and it’ll be as right as rain.”
“I’ve got the mop.  You just stay there and eat, okay, Danny?”
That was, like, the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.  He wanted to do something to help, but something about the situation held him paralyzed.
“Yeah!” said Jack, rinsing the shards in the kitchen sink.  “We just need some glue, then we’ll put it right!”
“Make sure it dries first,” said Maddie, maneuvering a large mop.  
“Oh, right!”
He put the pieces on a dishtowel and began to pat them off.  Danny, slowly, reluctantly, began to eat again.  
“What were you saying before, Jack?”
“Oh, I was thinking that we could go back to that pottery place after all this.  Make a few new pieces.  It looks like we’ll need it, huh?  What do you think, Danny?”
“Um, it sound like it could be fun?”
“Then it’s a plan!  We’ll have to rope Jazz in, too, when she’s back in town!”
Speaking of Jazz…  Danny had to wonder why she was competing separately from these two.  She definitely wasn’t at college, after all.  Was it because of what Frostbite had said?  Or some other rule of the trial that Clockwork hadn’t mentioned?  Or just a strategy to give the family two chances?
He had no idea how to ask those questions.  
But then… maybe there was something in Jazz’s room?  Or even in his room.
“Want to help me put this back together?” asked Jack.  “I’ve got to go find my tools, so if you could just arrange them…”
“You both need to eat first,” said Maddie, “before our food gets cold.”
“Right you are, Maddie!”
Danny had, somehow, lost most of his appetite, but he ate anyway, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be hungry later.  When he estimated he’d eaten enough, he pushed aside his plate and went over to the shards of the mug.
It had broken unevenly, which meant that it would be easier to figure out what went where.  He started sorting the pieces, and as he did so, he felt himself start to calm down again.  
Jack ruffled his hair when he was about halfway through, making Danny freeze, his ears canting backwards.  
“I’ve got the super glue!” he said before sitting back down at the table.  
They worked together to put the mug back together after that, stars reemerging from scattered shards.  It was… peaceful.  Sort of like watching Clockwork work in his workroom.  Eventually, the mug was, more or less, together, although the cracks were still very visible.
“There we go!  Just like a puzzle, huh?  How’d you like working with your old man again?”
“It was good,” said Danny.  
“Yeah, it was good,” said Jack, beaming.  “Maybe I’ll show you how to h–  Ahem.  I’ll show you how to knit next!  I do love knitting.  And needlepoint.  Fiber art is great, Danny.  Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“That sounds nice,” said Danny, smiling.  Then he yawned.  
“Oh, wow, you’ve got some fangs in there!  That’s new.”  He cleared his throat.  “It’s getting pretty late, though, isn’t it?  You should get into bed.  You’ve had a long day!”
Danny wasn’t sure how long the day had been, but he was tired.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“We have your toothbrush and everything up in your bathroom,” said Maddie.
“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ll go up, then?”
“Wait!” shouted Jack, making Danny jump again.  “The fudge!  Can’t go to bed without fudge!”
“I’m actually pretty full…”
“Nonsense!  There’s always room for fudge.”
So, they ate fudge, and then Danny went upstairs to the bathroom.  
As promised, there was a toothbrush, floss, and a hairbrush already set out.  There was a cabinet set into the mirror, and another under the sink.  
He hesitated for a moment before opening the one over the sink.  There was a bottle of aspirin and a few boxes of bandaids, but it was otherwise empty. Next, he looked under the sink.  Mostly, there were cleaning supplies.  But there was also a large first aid box.  It had a bright green stain on one corner.  
Danny sucked in his lips, then pulled it out and started to look through it as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet.  It looked like it had been used frequently.  Most of the refillables were mostly empty.  
What had happened that he’d used so much of this?  Because it had to be him.  No one else living here would have left an ectoplasm stain on the lid.  
Frostbite’s claim was looking more and more plausible the more he learned.  
He closed the lid and put the box away.  He was going to give the Fentons the benefit of the doubt until he got actual evidence one way or another.  Frostbite had said that he’d never actually met them.  So.  
Jazz’s room.  While he was still mostly awake.  It was getting late.  
He walked through the wall into the room next door.  Jazz’s room was… less empty than he would have expected, given that she had her own house.  But it looked like someone had moved out of the room in an awful hurry.  More of the drawers in the dresser were opened than closed, clothing was strewn over the bed, the chair had been knocked over, the desktop computer tower had been opened up and the hard drive removed.  
Danny searched the room, but didn’t find anything but a note in Jazz’s handwriting, something about reminding him of a school assignment.  Everything else was just… clothing, books, his sister’s knick-knacks.  Nothing important.  
Defeated, he went back to his room, curled up in his bed, and went to sleep under the fake stars.  
.
Danny was going to give the Fentons a week, just like he’d given everyone else, unless they did something really unbelievable or dangerous, like the Observants, or forgot to feed him or something.  He’d already decided that, and he’d stick to it, even if they were being sketchy.  
So, he stuck with Maddie’s frantic baking, and Jack interrupting himself whenever he, apparently accidentally, mentioned engineering or science.  He let it go when they dodged his questions about what they did for a living.  He knitted with Jack, and watched documentaries and movies, and helped Maddie make lunch and breakfast, and slowly started working through the comics he’d found in his room.  He listened to Jack as he monologued about this and that and letting the broken mug ‘set.’  He helped with the ‘remodel’ as much as he could, and looked for clues about what, exactly, Jack and Maddie had removed.  
He also searched his own room, but the Observants, or whoever had prepared the trial, had been very thorough when making sure there was no direct physical evidence of Danny having ever lived here.  Not only were there no pictures, the schoolwork on the walls was old enough that Danny couldn’t say if the handwriting really was his, and it wasn’t like he’d found a journal or anything anywhere.  There was just a feeling.  
What he didn’t do, though, was look through the walled-off door in the kitchen.  
If there was a mad science lab anywhere, it was there.  And if a mad science lab was here, it was probably where he had died.  He…  Didn’t really want to see that.  He wasn’t sure he could see that and stay… reasonable… with Jack and Maddie.  
But… he had to know.  
So, just the day before he’d ‘scheduled’ himself to leave, he stood in front of that patch of wall and stepped through.  
It was predictably dark.  But Danny had both good night vision and the ability to create balls of light, so he called one up.  
The basement wasn’t unfinished.  It was, in fact, a mad science lab.  
He hated being right.  
It wasn’t just a mad science lab, though.  It was a half destroyed mad science lab.  Shelves had been knocked over, machines had been partially disassembled.  One area in particular looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and then dumped ectoplasm and something gross and brown on it.  He couldn’t even tell what some of that stuff was.
And then there was the inactive portal.  
Danny floated towards it, despite remembering Vlad’s warning about his portal.  It looked almost exactly the same.  Maybe a little less shiny, but still…
He yanked himself away from it, not liking how it seemed to grab his attention, and floated over to where filing cabinets had spilled over.  He grabbed a piece of paper at random and read it.  Then he read it again.  Finally, he dropped it back onto the pile.  
Jack and Maddie made their money inventing weapons.  Good to know.  
He floated over to the particularly wrecked area.  Was this the result of a weapons test?  That would make sense… sort of… so much of this was just meaningless without context, and he couldn’t get context.
There were papers here, too, in a binder half embedded in one wall.  Danny pulled it free easily and started to read it.  
When he realized what he was reading, he almost dropped the binder.  This was–  But it had to be for an animal, a dangerous animal they were hunting, or–  There were animal ghosts.  Frostbite even had the skins and furs of a few.  
Danny’s hands were shaking.  He wasn’t sweating.  Ghost form was good for more than his looks.  But he was shaking.  And his tail had fluffed out to its fullest extent.  
His eyes wandered down the pages, shying away from the worse things, until, finally, he reached a name.  
It was his.  
Phantom.  
He turned to the last page, skipping most of the binder, and read–
This time, he did drop the binder, and he gagged, too.  No.  No, that didn’t happen to him.  He flew backwards, over the bloody mess that had–  He ran into one of the walls, and an alarm started up, a broken thing, clearly not working quite right.  
Danny fled up the stairs, through the shut, metallic door, through the hasty drywall and into the kitchen.  The kitchen, where the alarm was also blaring, and Jack and Maddie were walking through the door in matching bathrobes.  
“Were– Were you in the lab?” asked Jack, uncertainly.  
“You,” said Danny, struggling to get the words out.  “You–”
“Are you hurt?” asked Maddie, reaching for him.  “Do you–”
“No!” shouted Danny.  “Don’t touch me!  Don’t come near me!”
She backed off, immediately, raising her hands so he could see them.  He hated that it did make him feel better.  
“Danny,” she said.  “Danny, I don’t know what you saw–”
“I saw what you did.  You hunted me down like– like an animal.  You tried to– to–” Danny sagged against the counter, one hand clutching the pocketwatch.  He should just hit the button.  He should hit the button now.  But part of him needed to know why.  
“It was a mistake,” said Jack.  
“A mistake?  You didn’t do that by mistake.  You can’t just trip and then do that.  There’s planning there, and preparation–”
“No, no,” said Maddie, “not–  We didn’t know it was you.  You didn’t look like yourself–”
“I don’t look like myself now, are you going to do it again?”
“No,” said both Jack and Maddie, vehemently.
“But you would’ve done it to someone else, is that it?”
“That’s,” said Jack.  “Not anymore.  Not anymore, son.  We’ve made mistakes.  We were wrong about so, so many things, but we’re trying.  We’re trying, and we never wanted to do anything that would hurt you.”
“We’re trying to make amends,” said Maddie.
“By hiding this?” demanded Danny.  “By pretending you didn’t do it?”
“Only because this is our only chance,” she said.  “It’s our only chance, and you didn’t even remember.  What good would apologizing have done?”
“More good than this.  Why did you even do it?”
“We’re scientists,” said Maddie.  
“We just wanted to know how ghosts work,” said Jack.  “But we’ve sworn all of it off, forever.  We even took out the anti-ghost security system!  We don’t want to have anything to do with something that hurt you.”
“You hurt me.”
“Please, Danny, you have every right to be angry with us,” said Maddie, “but give this family a chance.  We know it’s our fault that things turned out the way they did, but…  We’re sorry.  We’re sorry, and we love you, and we want to fix this, and doesn’t that count for something?”
“We want to be a family again,” said Jack, openly crying.  “We want to show you what that’s like.  What it would be like, now that we know.  You are our family, Danny.”
“Family,” repeated Danny, suddenly feeling cold, as if all the ice in his core had built to an unbearable level.  
He turned around, towards the counter, eyes flicking back and forth until he found what he was looking for.
Danny picked the repaired mug up off the kitchen counter.  “This cup,” he said.  “It’s like this cup.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.  
“Please,” said Maddie.  “We know that what we did was wrong, and we want to– We just wanted to move past it.  We want to be a family again, Danny.  We always just wanted you to be safe.”
Danny shook his head and turned the sink on.  He put the cup under it and filled it with water.  That done, he turned off the sink and he set the cup on the counter.  It leaked, horribly.  Some of the cracks leaked slowly, seeping water.  Some, near the bottom, spurted.  
“It’s still a cup,” said Danny.  “But you can’t really use it like one anymore, can you?  It’s not– It’s probably not even safe to use anymore, is it?  With the glue, and the cracks.”
“But it’s still something you made,” said Jack.  “It’s still something important, isn’t it?  It’s worth saving, for the memories.”
“Maybe,” said Danny.  “But you still can’t use it to drink.  You, um.  You have to get another cup.”  He wiped tears from his eyes.  “You can remember it, and it can be good to remember it, but it won’t work anymore.  It can’t be fixed.”
He turned back to them.  
“Please, Danny,” said Jack.  “Don’t go.  We love you.”
Danny gave them a tiny, pained smile, then said, “Goodbye.”
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