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re-d4cted · 6 months

Note

POST ABOUT THE GODS AU I CANT CARRY THIS BURDEN ALONE

you would be the one to ask 💀 I've been tormenting you for YEARS with this au

okay so since this is going to be a massive word vomit post ill put it under a cut after I give a quick summary of the basic premise

so there is a family of gods who are known to be cruel. who have a hatred for all mortals and will use them for their own entertainment as some sort of sick punishment for the wrongs of the past

philza, the God of death, and his sons techno, wilbur, grian (you can ask about this LATER), and tommy. who are the gods of blood, madness, tragedy, and chaos respectively

now to give a brief summary up to right before purgatory (I will be skipping over the grian stuff but if you want to know more about that I will explain) meaning I'm not going into full detail, because if I did this post would be a novel

*disclaimer!!!!!! I HATE dream but unfortunately he is a big villain in this au so he is gonna get mentioned just be aware that he will always be the most vile person in any au I make

DSMP

SO it all starts when wilbur gets bored of his challenges (the 100 player challenges) and decides he wants to do something new. he takes tommy and they disguse themselves as mortals and go to the land of dsmp to spread their madness and chaos there

tommy pretended to befriend tubbo because he found him interesting and then the three of them created l'manburg. tubbo doing it for a place to be free and the two gods doing it to see how other residents would react

the revolution was exactly what they wanted, beautifully chaotic and allowed wilbur to let his madness infect everyone who opposed l'manburg

erets betrayal wasn't planned but it was wonderfully entertaining for the gods watching the revolutionaries get beaten over and over just to keep getting back up

in the end tommy makes the deal to trade his disc's for independence because he and wilbur had already planned an election

and the elections go exactly as planned with the betrayal of schlatt being planned since the beginning. you see schlatt was someone wilbur had previously turned mad and he knew exactly what would happen if he brought him in

in Pogtopia is where things start to go off track, because tommy starts to realize that maybe his friendship with tubbo isn't just pretend and he starts trying to convince wilbur that blowing up l'manburg won't be as entertaining and leaving it be (it doesn't work)

techno just makes things more complicated because he wants blood to spill, and to help his brothers with their little game

the red festival and tubbos execution creates a conflict between techno and tommy, and wilbur just thinks it's because tommy wanted to mess with tubbo more. to settle this argument they fight in the pit

November 16th is when everything goes ary. at first everything is according to plan, techno "betrays" them, wilbur blows up the country, phil is waiting in the wings to collect all the souls. but then something unexpected happens, tommy doesn't go through with his part of the plan and refuses to kill tubbo

the others have to improvise, because even though they could kill everyone there, tommy doesn't want to and they aren't going to go against family, they couldn't care less about the mortals but tommy is another story and if he wants to play nice they'll let him play nice (for now). wilbur and phil stay back to keep an eye on him while also playing the parts of father haunted by his dead son just for the fun of it

and tommy does well for a bit, keeping his chaos in check at least, and not seeing tubbo as just another mortal (he couldn't care less about the others), he does find the newcomer interesting though and doesn't immediately dismiss them

when his chaos reaches a point where he needs to let some out he takes the new guy (ranboo) and goes to rob the mushroom house, things get a bit outta hand and the house ends up burning

tommy takes the fall

he gets exiled by the same person he went against his family for

he is hurt

brought to logstedshire, he plays along with whatever, letting his chaos and wilburs madness infect dream, taking joy in watching it consume the man. when he finally gets bored he leaves and joins his brother at his cabin

not even a week later the butcher army come to try and execute techno, which doesn't end well at all. tommy stayed behind while techno humored the mortals letting them attempt their little execution than easily breaking free and killing quackity in the process. phil goes with him

doomsday is planned by the gods to get back at the mortals who hurt their youngest. tommy blows up the community house so he give the warning for what's to come

during actual doomsday they finally reveal what/who they are, so the residents of New l'manburg can see just how badly they fucked up

tommy is supposed to kill tubbo, before he can however tubbo asks him if it was all fake, and tommy is honest. tells him that in the beginning it was but at some point that changed, and he started caring and now he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't. he can't even bring himself to kill tubbo

something shifts in tommy and he is no longer chaos, and instead becomes loyalty

phil, techno, and wilbur are blinded by rage towards the people who made tommy hurt and attempts to kill tubbo but something unexpected happens

for his accomplishment of doing the impossible, making a cruel God kind, tubbo is turned into a God. the God of forgiveness

the three leave once tommy runs up and hugs him, realizing Tommy's domain has shifted and that like it or not a pair of gods have just been born

ranboo ends up being taken to the cabin along with tubbo because he has no where else to go. it helps that the gods have all taken a liking to him

over the next few months tubbo along with ranboo start working with the gods to try and get them to see mortals as more than just tools for their entertainment (the two also get married and adopt micheal at this point)

everyone else on the smp believe beeduo got kidnapped by them and keep trying to "save them" and failing miserably every time

ranboo happily playing cards and winning with them, cut to quackity spying on them and thinking this must be some advanced torture technique

all is well until tommy and tubbo get attacked by dream using a god killing axe (he was angrey that tubbo took his only chance to become a god and now wants to kill him). while protecting tubbo and fighting back (killing dream twice) sam and the others arrive and think it's tommy who snapped and attacked first (they still think he is chaos)

he gets captured and put into the prison that was built to keep the gods imprisoned. tubbo runs back to the cabin and tells the others what happened, and while he is breaking down tubbos domain shifts from forgiveness to destruction and becomes cruel

Niki joins them at this point and the syndicate is formed

over the next few months while tommy is trapped in the prison, tubbo pretends to be glad he is free and roams the server letting off radiation and slowly weakening and killing anyone he comes across. just biding his time until the syndicate is ready to break tommy out

when they are ready they strike at night, tubbo gets in by pretending he wants to settle things with tommy and "get peace", once he is on the moving bridge he reveals his true colours letting his radiation kill the warden

he finds tommy weak and in chains, tommy who even after months in prison, has not gone cack to chaos. wasting no time tubbo destroys the chains and breaks down the "impenetrable" walls with his destruction. meeting up with the rest of the syndicate who were waiting on the outside

ranboo and Niki were told to stay behind at the cabin incase tubbo couldn't control his power, unfortunately that's what dream was expecting. so while the gods aren't there to protect them, dream attacks, they hold him back long enough for the others to get back but right as they get there ranboo is struck with the same axe dream used against tommy

niki takes tom so tubbo and wilbur can go to ran, while techno and phil fight off dream. wilbur plays a song to keep ranboo calm, while tubbo tries to stop the bleeding. in this moment they are not the cruel gods they are known as, and like tommy months earlier, their domains shift

madness becomes music, blood becomes protection, and death becomes family

dream is killed for good this time, ranboo is healed by phil who refuses to let his death take him, and they leave for good with the few people they care about. they can learn to be kind later for now they need to heal

between dsmp and qsmp

there is about a 1000 year gap between the two. and the first 400 of those years is spent happily traveling together and leaning to be kind with ranboo and micheal, who have been made functionally immortal by phil (he asked beforehand of course)

wilbur is the first to split off wanting to play his music for the world and distance himself from his past madness. then tommy leaves because he wants to explore the world, techno goes with his for protection

leaving phil to look after the _Beloved family who have made a little home for themselves. tubbo has to leave occasionally go preform whatever duties he has as a god, but he always comes back. and micheal goes on his own adventures for years, even decades at a time, he too always comes back

after 200 years of this little routine ranboo asks phil the question he's been dreading for 600 years. he waits until tubbo is out of the house and asks if he could take back the immortality. says that he's been thinking about it for a long time and now that he's lived such a long life he's ready. when phil asks if tubbo knows, ranboo can only say his expression would make him change his mind

after explaining that ranboo would still have to live out the rest of his natural lifespan and that ranboo has to promise to tell everyone sooner rather than later, it is done, and ranboo is mortal once again

the first ones told are micheal and tubbo, who comes home a year later, the tears are expected and there are a LOT of tears, it's almost like ranboo would drop dead any minute and not live nearly another 100 years. tommy, techno, and wilbur find out not long after and their reactions are similar, with lots of tears and hugs

they all promise to make as many memories in the next 100 years as possible

and once those 100 years are up, phil personally escorts ranboo to the afterlife to be taken care of by his wife, the goddess of death

ranboo would be joined by micheal not much later

NOW FOR QSMP

qsmp is set long after the gods have learned to be kind (thanks to the efforts of ranboo and micheal) now the family is off doing their own things and trying to atone for their pasts. their old domains will always be a part of them and they still have power over them, but they don't abuse that power

wilbur and phil just so happened to end up on the same train to quesadilla island together. little did they know the descendants of people they once knew (and tormented) would also be on the island, along with foolish and slime who are the same people from the smp

they both end up finding foolish and slime and apologizing for what happened in he past. slime doesn't really care cause the gods never messed with him much, if anything he was one of they few people they were kind to, and foolish had no problems since what they did never really effected him 💀

of course neither of them reveal what they are to any of the other residents (that don't already know) and just go on with their lives on the island, well wilbur goes off island for a while so he can go off and spread his music and phil stays behind giving small blessings to the islanders

when the kids come it becomes increasingly clear why phil was drawn to this place, he is the God of family after all. and to his surprise all of the kids have been blessed by various gods given to the residents to be raised as new champions, and of course the one phil ends up with just so happens to be blessed by one of phils own sons, techno

when wilbur comes back he can feel the presence of the young champions, but there is a stronger presence that he couldn't explain, at least not until he meets tallulah

because unlike the other egg children, tallulah isn't blessed by a god, and she wasn't born from the dragon like the others (I WILL BE MAKING A SEPARATE POST ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DO NOT WANT IT GETTING LOST IN THE MASSIVE SUMMARY POST)

while the other eggs are simply blessed by gods, tallulah is one, and she's not just any god, she's a god born from music itself, from wilbur

he's not sure about being her father at first, he's too scared his lingering madness will infect and ruin her, but when he helps her paint her first sunrise he knows he will never be able to let her go

when he has to leave again he promises to send her the prettiest birdsongs every morning so she knows he will always be there for her. phil promises to protect her with his life while wilbur is away

the nightmare that happens isn't actually a nightmare, it really happened, and it's the first time phil uses his influence over death in centuries. he refuses to let his kids die like that, but if something like this were to happen again he wouldn't be able to bring them back. not without the other islanders finding him out

and everything goes back to normal, or as normal as things could be, until Bobby's death. and there's nothing phil can do, his domain may be death but even he has rule he must follow and he's already broken them once, he cannot do it again. the most he can do is bring Bobby's soul to the living world and allow his parents one final goodbye

and no one does find out, at least not for a while, when the Brazilians came a few of them seemed to know something was up but couldn't quite place what it was.

when tallulah gots attacked by the code phil got carried away and death slipped from his grasp causing tallulahs death

he can't help but feel guilty for not being able to do more for the grieving parents of the island

when the codes disguse themselves as Phil's kids he is pissed, and he can't help it when death surrounds him. if he uses an excessive amount of power while fighting them, the only one to notice is etoiles who had only seen philza use this kind of power once before

finding tubbo had been a surprise, and phil hadn't expected the warm hug he got. not after he left 300 years ago, after the loss of his family. but as it turns out he missed phil greatly and was excited to see him again

introducing him to tallulah and chayanne was easy, and they took to him quickly. phil was quick to make him their godparent (pun intended)

one day after putting the kids to bed with him, phil could tell there was something on tubbos mind. he didn't have a chance to ask what was wrong before tubbo spoke, saying he hadn't put a child to bed like this since... he couldn't even finish his sentence. sometimes he would see micheal in the egg children and it was just too much for him

and once again things seem to be going back to normal until the eggs are taken away. phil knows they aren't dead, he would have known if the were, but still their absence drives him mad. he has half the mind to think wilbur is behind his madness but he knows his son would never

the birdhouse is much like the prison tommy was once put in, and with the stress of losing the eggs, phil starts seeing things. and he really starts to wonder if some of wilburs old madness was re-emerging

tubbo is a mess with them gone, he doesn't want to lose another family

wilbur comes back to the island as soon as he stops seeing tallulahs paintings in the sky, and when he finds out she's missing... that madness he's been running from sneaks back up on him. he leaves before it can infect anyone else, and when phil finds him later he doesn't mention it

when he finds the recording of his song with tallulahs turtles, all of the madness disappears. perhaps it's his music that will reach her

and that's all the notable lore bits up till purgatory (I am begging someone to send an ask about purgatory cause I have many thoughts)

^this is a lie, there is so much I left out, like the entire backstory of why they were cruel in the first place, or how any of the dsmp backstories play into this, and also Kristin's whole role in this, and I completely left out ALL of the Hermitcraft and life series stuff that has to do with grian

I just put the bare minimum and this is still monstrously long 😭😭😭😭

genuinely anyone who makes it to the bottom of this post good job, it took me days to write because it was all off memory 💀

anyways please send me more asks about it because writing it all down has made me brainrot over this au again

#monstrously long post #this ones for you fern #if i make posts about any of my other 3 year old aus they will be just as if not LONGER #dsmp #qsmp #sbi au #asks or something #gods au

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cattatonically · 11 months

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The Other Side of Midnight - Simone St. James

Synopsis

The award-winning author of The Haunting of Maddy Clare and Silence for the Dead, presents another mesmerizing gothic story of intrigue…

London, 1925. Glamorous medium Gloria Sutter made her fortune helping the bereaved contact loved ones killed during the Great War. Now she’s been murdered at one of her own séances, after leaving a message requesting the help of her former friend and sole rival, Ellie Winter.

Ellie doesn’t contact the dead—at least, not anymore. She specializes in miraculously finding lost items. Still, she can’t refuse the final request of the only other true psychic she has known. Now Ellie must delve into Gloria’s secrets and plunge back into the world of hucksters, lowlifes, and fakes. Worse, she cannot shake the attentions of handsome James Hawley, a damaged war veteran who has dedicated himself to debunking psychics.

As Ellie and James uncover the sinister mysteries of Gloria’s life and death, Ellie is tormented by nightmarish visions that herald the grisly murders of those in Gloria’s circle. And as Ellie’s uneasy partnership with James turns dangerously intimate, an insidious evil force begins to undermine their quest for clues, a force determined to bury the truth, and whoever seeks to expose it…

My Thoughts

By this point, we all know I’m a big fan of romance, paranormal, and mysteries. So when this came across my radar pinging with all three, I couldn’t help but pick it up. And I was not disappointed.

Ellie doesn’t necessarily want to be in the middle of a murder investigation. But she really doesn’t have much choice in the matter. The more answers she uncovers, she also discovers a whole new set of questions she needs to ask. And of course, she isn’t doing it alone.

The sparks between Ellie and James are undeniable. Despite a rocky past, they need to work together to solve the murder of their beloved friend. But Ellie doesn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Ellie is fierce and vibrant. She’s clever and crafty. Honestly, she’s a woman after my own heart. In a time when women were still viewed less than favourably (though that doesn’t seem to have changed in the last 100 years – but that’s a whole other rant for another time), she can hold her own, and put men in their place when need be. In a few words – she’s really bloody brilliant!

The more twists and turns this book took, the more pieces I was desperate to put together. The main twist, I did not anticipate until it was laid out in front of me. But a few of the others were very fun to put together. And honestly, I really need to see a book featuring Inspector Merriken – I don’t think I’m quite done with his character yet.

Overall, I really enjoyed this book! It was a fun, twisty mystery that I just couldn’t put down. And some of the romantic sparks didn’t hurt, either.

#Book review #The Other Side of Midnight #Simone St. James #Catt reads #Catt's life in books

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enjoyyourdunghillbaal · 11 months

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C'mon, let's go talk shit to the poor people.

Let's go get rich off the poor people and leave them in the dirt.

Well aware that they have real problems.. and well aware that you could do something to give back or do right by them.. but choose not to. You could end their grief in life just by shutting your faggot mouth, but you like seeing yourself get rich while they stay poor.

If it was a girl with a clinical history of rape trauma and psychological abuse, would you still be trying to make money off of their suffering?

Thanks for letting me in as part of your life, now I'm gonna go home and talk to my ad agency friends behind your back and make some money for myself, talking shit about you during our lunch hour brainstorms.

Is this how you justify an unsolved case? Abuse of power while treating a person as a suspect, keep being a fucking dick and add pressure until they break or snap....because I think he's guilty and I need him to lose his shit so I can secure a conviction.

And what if you're wrong?

What if he actually is innocent? What if he truly is less of a criminal piece of shit than you are? All the haunting and tormenting and gaslighting and every other cheap-ass game in the book when siblings fight or anytime people are fighting, but don't want anybody else to know.

When does it end then faggot? When you've sentenced him to 100 spankings with the Fraternity paddle and he's done, and now you're done handing out abuse because YOU SUSPECT. that is all.

After he stood there and took a beating because you thought. And you fucking thought wrong.

Are you going to humble yourself and apologize in front of everybody you talked shit about him to?

Is it going to end yet? When are you going to decide to shut the fuck up and bury your bullshit instead of opening a new case every time you need to use me as your designated scapegoat and take the blame and the negative effects that unfold?

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raggaraddy · 3 years

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Play Pretend

Summary: When the chance comes to escape you're are going to play it smart to make sure you get away.

Trigger Warnings: Murder, gun usage, abuse, violence, kidnapping, imprisonment.

Jungkook

Yandere!Jungkook

Mafia!Jungkook

It's been about a week since Jungkook locked you in. Only now were the bruises on your ribs going down. And no matter how quickly he shifted back to normal and calmed down the damage was done, he’d shown you a truly terrifying side of himself and you knew he couldn’t be trusted anymore. The worst of it was that he never even feigned an apology. He didn’t think he was in the wrong to react like he did. He just went from one day to the next like nothing was different.

You felt so stupid. You had thought there was something not right with him the first time you met him. But instead of trusting your gut, you got swept up in his good looks and charm. And that lack of discernment is the reason why you've been trapped in his house for a week now. You tried to tell him that people would be looking for your eventually. But with full certainty, he assured you that wouldn’t be the case. You weren’t sure why or how, but you knew that he 100% believed it. And that made your situation even more despondent.

This evening, for the first time in 8 days, Jungkook finally left the house. You had thought it might be a chance for you to look for an escape, but to your disappointment, he left one of his ‘employees’ with you. You still can't pinpoint what he does exactly, but all of the people you have seen with Junkook have a similar dangerous vibe. This one is no exception. Tall, strong, large and mean-looking. It completely dashed your hopes of getting away. That was until you heard the clear and threatening order Jungkook gave him. For the second time, you were seeing this sweet kind young man have men double his age, who were larger and tougher looking than him, look weak and fearful. The exact wording slipped your mind, but the gist of it was if anything happens to you while he is gone, Jungkook will violently kill your guard.

After a few hours of stirring, half hesitant to try and half trying to perfect the idea, you finally decide you need to at least attempt a prison break.

Calling the guard, you drop to the bedroom floor, curling yourself tight, clutching your ribs. You knew your bruises were still purple and black there, so it would be the most convincing place to say you had pain. After a few screams, the man dashes in his face draining at seeing you writhing on the floor in agony.

“What happened?” He barks.

“I fell. It hurts.” You wheeze, knowing it's best to keep your details simple to maintain the act.

He bends to help you up and you wail a faked cry of pain, applying your years of watching dramas into practice. You’re not sure how believable your act is, but the man is so swept up in the panic of the moment, it doesn’t really matter. As he gets you onto the bed, you pull up your shirt slightly exposing your marks and bruises and it's the tipping point. He goes from worried to frantic.

"Sh-" he whispers the exclamation under his breath. He looks to ponder his options, and you hope your theory is right and that he is too afraid to call Jungkook first. "Alright, you need to go to the hospital." He declares. You have to lean more into the pained acting to stop a smile from coming onto your face, thankful that your plan is so far working.

The guard picks you up bridal style and carries you downstairs with an urgent patter to his steps. Getting you into the back seat of the car, he rushes into the front and begins driving. Despite his craze, you're surprised to see him driving so steadily and rationally. Abiding the road rules and sticking to the speed limits.

You think your best, or only option would be to get some privacy with Doctor at the hospital and tell him everything. Beg him to call the police. The one risk for going to the hospital is the possibility of the guard not leaving you to talk to the Doctor.

"Fuck." The man hisses under his breath as his phone begins to ring.

The call connects to the cars Bluetooth as he answers, blasting Jungkooks voice in surround sound.

"I'm at home, but you're not. Where are you?" He questions with an ominous tone. The drivers head flicks back to you, his uncertainty flashing through his eyes as he decides what or how much of the truth to tell.

"She hurt herself. Her chest. So I am taking her to the hospital." He reveals everything with a shake in his voice.

Jungkook bursts into a sharp laugh, the sudden piercing of it through the speakers making both of you jump. "She's fine. Bring her back now."

You spring upright, eyes wide. The car rolls to a stop at the traffic light, the man's gaze meeting yours in the rear-view mirror. Jungkook knows! He knows you're faking it. He's going to hurt you again when you get back. You can't let him take you back.

The second the car stops, you don't pause to think, yanking on the door handle and throwing yourself out of the car. Because it is nearly midnight, the suburban area is desolate, but there are a few houses that still have lights on. You know your best option is one of those.

Breaking into a sprint you run across the main road over the island and towards the first house you can see any sign of life in. In a mad frenzy, you begin to pound on the door, calling and screaming for help, begging for them to open. Behind you, you can feel the guard quickly catching up and your pleading gets more desperate.

Giving you pure relief, the front door opens on a middle-aged man looking nearly as petrified as you. You don't wait to explain or discuss anything instead barge past him, hurling yourself through the open door. You spin on your heels, slamming the entrance closed. It doesn't shut though. The full body of the guard powers through the door colliding into you and the homeowner, knocking you both onto the ground in a painful blow.

With a heavy breath and a wild look in his eyes, he stalks over top of you, sealing you all in. The guard pulls a gun and his phone from his pocket, the call to Jungkook seeing to still be active. "Alright, I have h-" he speaks into the receiver, pointing the weapon at the man, rendering him frozen.

"Where are you?!" Jungkook yells, making the guard pull the phone from his ear. Even from a few meters away you can hear his hostile voice loudly and clearly.

For 10 minutes you are sat in the living room numb with fear. You could hear how furious Jungkook was. You can see how mad and nervous your guard is, and you can feel how confused and terrorised the older man is. Without movement, the three of you are stuck in a tense stare off, none able to speak.

On the 11th minute, there is a knock on the front door. The guard peers through the side window and his breath catches in his throat.

You start to physically shake as Jungkook comes in with two more men at his back, looking like an uneven, unsettling mix of calm and intense. Walking in with his hands in his pockets, he takes the size of all three people in the room.

"You left the car in the middle of the road?" He asks the guard, his gaze staying fixed on you.

"Yes. I had to chase her down." He tries to explain shortly.

"Ah," Junkook muses with a click of his tongue. "Get rid of it." He orders one of the other men who came in with him.

The guy nods, rushing to follow the instruction. As the door slams shut, Jungkook walks towards you squatting to your level. "Your ribs hurt Kitten?" he asks with a faked sweetness. He leans down digging his forefinger and thumb into your ribcage. It brings back the true pain of your injuries, making you squeal and writhe while trying to get away from him. His hand wraps around your side, keeping you in place and pushing you to the floor, crushing and gripping your wounds, bringing shortness to your breath and tears to your eyes.

After tormenting you for a few miserable minutes, Jungkook scoffs out a short laugh, standing back up nearly stepping on top of you. "Pick him up" He orders your guard, gesturing toward the homeowner on the floor behind you. He does so, having to hold a lot of the man's weight to get him to his feet. "Anyone else in the house?"

"No, I don't think so." The guard replies with uncertainty.

"Well you're not exactly reliable, are you?" Jungkook sneers.

You jump as two incredibly loud bangs echo out. One after the other, both the guard and the older man drop to the floor. Looking up at Jungkook horrified, he is standing over you holding a gun having just shot the two men. Your stomach is churning at the realization of what he just did. There is only a weak grunt and then silence from the older man, his body slumping still and lifeless. But from the other, there are continued struggled and gasped moans. Jungkook coolly walks to him, another shot firing and the pained sounds stop. Only silence and the pulsing ringing in your ears from the sudden blasts remain.

You're motionless. Panting broken breaths. Too in shock to move. Too scared to do anything. You can't believe this is happening. You're sure you're about to die.

"Go check the house." Jungkook kneels down beside you again, throwing the order to the second man that came with him.

With just the two of you left in the room, he comes closer, speaking lowly and gruffly in your ear. "See what you did Y/n." He motions to the side of you, to the murderous and violent display. You can't bring yourself to look. You know the sounds of those two men will haunt you for the rest of your life. You don't want to add the gruesome image of it as well. "Do want to play? You want to pretend to be in pain?" His hand roughly brushes the hair from off your face. He switches the gun from one hand to the other, his now free left hand digging tightly into your jaw, turning you to him. "Well, we're going home Kitten. And you won't need to pretend when I'm done with you."

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #jungkook #yandere jungkook #mafia jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts smut

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ac3id · 4 years

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Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓)

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @koiibito, @reinawritesbnha, @shorkbrian

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count: 5862

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The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams.

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this?

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero!

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad.

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard.

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you.

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation.

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case.

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon.

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him.

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting, interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious.

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot.

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office.

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected.

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him.

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers.

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy.

He can feel his jeans tighten.

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended.

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep.

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

“What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue.

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens! Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge.

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you.

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him?

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

“Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair.

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-”

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly.

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run.

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him.

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life.

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure.

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff.

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost.

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life.

Just hope he lets you cum the next time.

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dinner-djarin · 3 years

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Next To You (Bucky x reader)

Just a little one shot I wrote after watching FATWS on repeat. (I tried to make it gender neutral but I may have missed something so I'm sorry if it's not!)

Rating: Mature

No use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Bucky is having nightmares, and you're there to comfort him. Based on the Julia Michaels song If You Need Me. (so if the ending sounds dumb go listen to the song you'll understand why lol)

Warnings: Fluff & angst I guess idk, kinda dark themes, because well it's Bucky. Just two people who have definitely been through some shit. Oh ya that reminds me swearing. Suggested that intercourse has happened but nothing descriptive. A little (a lot) about trauma but mostly about nightmares. If I missed something pls lemme know, I don't want anyone to feel triggered reading. But if you can watch the show and be fine, you'll probably be okay with this.

Also just letting you know if I put ~ its cause I switch the focus from Bucky to reader, but I'm not switching POV completely its all written in reader POV.

Every night brought pieces of the past. He never knew which memory would be dragged to the surface once he let his subconscious take over - clawing and scrapping against the walls he put up, begging to be let out; to be confronted.

Some nights were worse than others of course.

He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to out run the monsters of his past. For a while he just stopped sleeping. It may not have been a permanent fix, but he thought some relief was better than none at all. He used to go days, even weeks, without sleep during the war, so he figured it might be the best way to silence the past.

Dr. Raynor, however, caught on quick.

A lot of her methods seemed like bullshit to Bucky. He could tell she was genuinely trying to help him, but he doubted anything she had anything to offer him that would prove to be effective.

But at the end of the day she was definitely no fool. He had a tough time lying to her. She didn’t take anyone's crap, and that might have been the only reason he trusted her, even a little. It may have been the only reason he actually gave it a sincere try (besides the fact he’d be arrested if he didn’t).

So he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught on to his sleep strike. In fact she called him out on it only three days in. He thought he’d get longer than that. Even so, he was almost relieved. After only 72 hours he already felt the nightmares slowly creeping into the day. Every time a door slammed or a car horn blared his body tensed. Every time he turned a corner he’d reach for a knife he no longer carried. So maybe it was better to let his past haunt his nightmares. That way he’d be alone when the memories took over. That way he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

But he made a mistake. He did what he told himself he could never do. He let you get too close.

Falling asleep in your arms felt better than any therapy session he could ever imagine. It was the first time in forever he could remember what it was like to be his younger self. The version of him that marvelled at the idea of flying cars; who thought he could save the world by enlisting. The dreamy eyed boy who was hopeful for the future, who thought he had a future.

Lying next to you made him feel in control, like his problems didn’t matter. He was there to keep you safe, and warm, and comfortable. He never thought he’d feel like that with anyone. He didn’t think he was allowed.

You didn’t question his metal arm for starters. When Bucky took off his jacket, after the hundredth time you insisted - “It’s like 100 degrees in here Bucky, please take it off, you’re gonna melt” - he thought he’d instantly regret it. But you simply looked at it with wonder for only a moment, before returning your eyes up to his own. Staring back at you, he saw the wheels in your brain click into place. He could almost hear your thoughts as you decided what your next move would be.

In the blink of his eyes you tore your shirt off and stood completely still in front of him. For a moment his emotions were mixed, and he worried where your sudden advancement came from, but then he saw it. A thick white mark slashed across your torso.

You took only one step forward before speaking. “It’s not exactly… I know it’s not the same thing at all. But the scars - the marks we carry - they’ll be with us forever, whether we like it or not. Even if they remind us of the worst pieces of ourselves, or the worst moments of our lives, it reminds us that we can move forward. And it reminds me that there’s something to move forward to. I don’t know…it doesn’t really make any sense but somehow it’s almost comforting. To know that something will always be with us, till the end”

His mouth was on yours in an instant.

He had been hesitant to let anyone in. After coming back - after going through everything he’d been through - he felt like damaged goods. He worried that the minute he let himself be happy, everything would come crashing down again, and he had good reason to believe it. It just kept happening over and over. It seemed like every time he found even a small amount of peace, the battle made its way back to him.

But when he found you, when he felt you, he felt peace. The softness of your skin, the gentle wave of your hair, the light scrape of your fingernails against his back and chest, your quiet moans muffled by his own mouth on yours. Being with you made the horrors of his past melt away. Even when you clamped down around him and bit into his shoulder muscle, even when he knew you’d left marks all over his skin. Knowing they came from you made all the difference. They didn’t remind him of the wars he fought, or lives he took, or the atrocities he committed. The sting of your nails and teeth weren’t pains from his past, they were reminders of his present, of the possibility of a life he could have. With you.

But in the end he knew that it was all wishful thinking. He knew he wasn’t cut out for that type of future. He knew you deserved better.

So he decided to let you off easy, to disappear from your life, leaving your shared experience to the confines of your bedroom. A memory, nothing more. He knew he’d have to sneak away once you fell asleep, because that way it might not feel real. Everything that happened between you might disappear with him.

But then he fucked up.

He was waiting for your breath to even out, a sign he would take to mean you had fallen asleep, but after listening to the air rush out of your body, and watching your bare chest rise and fall, your hypnotic essence overpowered his will, and he fell asleep alongside you.

Only he wasn’t asleep for long.

Eventually the past caught up, as it always had a way of doing. Images, and sounds, and smells all came flooding back to his uninhibited brain - sleep made him an easy target. He was vulnerable to every torment he caused, and every mission he was forced to carry out. Tonight was no exception. His brain managed to sift through every wall he thought he had up, and trudge yet another painful memory to the surface. The image of himself taking life after life, cruelly and viciously. There was no remorse, no stopping him. He saw every crime lord and politician he was made to terminate. Until his brain moved away to a new idea. The image of a young woman. Innocent and pure. But in the way of his mission. The Winter Soldier spared none.

He woke up in a blind panic. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Something was wrong. Was he being held captive or-

“Hey,” you made yourself known to him, and he twisted his head back to see you sit up beside him. You were quiet, and a worried expression blanketed your face.

Is he angry, you thought for a moment? No. Your brain was tired, and it was slow to process. Not angry, scared.

You knew from the minute you saw his arm that there was more going on. You already had some suspicions, nevertheless you expected there to be something like this.

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other in silence. You watched him regain his breath, and you carefully shifted your legs to sit crossed underneath you.

His steel blue eyes cut through the darkness, pinning you down. You wondered what was going on in his mind, what he might be doing to regain his grip on reality. You knew this moment too well. The quiet. The darkness. The fear. Not sure of how to move forward.

You were scared too, but not of him - more like you were scared for him. You knew he must be going through something, and you wanted to be there to help, but you also knew that was easier said than done. “Being there to help” was a nice concept, but in reality - well things were generally more complicated. You didn’t know if it’d be alright to approach him, mainly because you were unsure of your role in all this. Were you really someone he wanted around when he was so obviously vulnerable? You’d never seen him so raw and exposed, like a wound you wished you could tend to, while also fearing that your interference could make things worse.

You knew he wasn’t going to ask for your help, you could see he wasn’t that kind of man, but maybe if you made the first step, and let him choose - maybe he’d let you in. So, you held out your hand and waited. After a moment, you saw him move, only slightly though. His eyes darted down towards your hand and he subtly lifted his fingers off the bed. But it only lasted a second. He froze again, hand hovering near yours, and that’s when you realized he had been reaching for you with his left hand. You had been wary to touch it before, you thought it was probably a sensitive subject. Something about the idea of touching his metal arm seemed more personal, if that was possible. Like only the most trusted people in his life might be allowed to… and maybe not even then.

You felt your own eyes drop to your lap, an almost nervous energy now emanating in the space between you. But just before you could drop your hand too, his fingers hesitantly entwine with yours.

You shot your eyes up to see his right hand grazing the palm of your left. As your gaze slowly elevated, you found your way to meet his own eyes, only to notice the very sudden change in them. Whatever fear or darkness hid their before had now melted away. You couldn’t place it, but whatever emotion he now held sent a chill from your core to your fingertips. A lump in your throat formed and for a moment, you thought you might never be able to breath again. The look in his eyes was almost soft, but with a hint of yearning. Fire was blazing through every nerve in your body, while a chill kissed your skin, making every hair stand on edge.

Feeling outrageously brave, you took your free hand up to his jaw and held him there, gently swiping your thumb over his cheek, and allowing your fingers to reach slightly past his hairline and to the back of his neck. You wondered if he could feel the raging storm of your emotions through your touch.

“You okay?” you managed to whisper to him.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before” his answer pierced your ears with a hard tone, refusing to let any vulnerability resonate in his voice.

You shake your head at him, wishing he wouldn’t play pretend. “Okay then,” you mumble, letting your hand drop from his face. But as it fell, Bucky was quick to grab it, and hold it with a gentle squeeze. When you looked at him again, you knew he meant it as a reassurance, trying to tell you that he was okay.

He couldn’t handle the way you looked at him. Like you could see every thought in his head. A knowing gleam in your eyes told him that you didn’t believe him, and you’d be right not to. He wasn’t okay. He never really was. There was so much darkness surrounding him, poisoning every inch of his life. But you. Your touch was gentle and your voice was kind, and even though he had just seen your scar, he couldn’t help but think your world must have been so much brighter than his own. Looking in your eyes, he almost wished he’d never met you. He was so afraid that his pain might infect you too, the only good thing he had left. He wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself if he let that happen; if he let his past ruin your future.

He wanted to leave, he needed to get out, before any of that could happen.

He slid off the bed quickly, and made his way to grab his clothes, but before he could you grabbed his hand - his left hand.

“Please Bucky don’t.” was all you could say. But the way your voice broke, on the verge of tears, fear of being rejected, of being left alone in the dark by the only man you ever wanted to let in - it was enough to stop his heart. He stood there, frozen from your touch. You kept his hand in yours, and for a second you worried it was too much. You worried you betrayed whatever trust you had built with him. Just holding his bare metal hand felt more violating and revealing than the fact that both of you remained completely naked. But you didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t want him to think you were afraid of him, afraid of the fact his hand could pulverize yours in a second - because you weren’t. You’d felt his touch. You knew how gentle and caring he could be. And you wanted him to see it too. That he wasn’t defined by his worst fears.

You pulled your body towards him, kneeling at the edge and facing him, “You don’t have to leave.” you spoke softly, as if he might be spooked and run off if you were any louder. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Please don’t push me away… I-”

Before you could finish, he was crashing into you. His tongue invading your mouth, like he was trying to soak up your unsaid words. His hands held your waist in place against his, steady and strong, but there was still resistance in his fingers; a hesitance to use too much force with you. You could feel how he feared he might hurt you.

Slowly you leaned back, feathering your fingers over his shoulders to guide him with you, and when he hovered over you, you let them slide into his hair, grabbing what you could and leading his head down…

~~~~

You lay there in the dark with your head on his chest, listening to his steady heart, feeling the crisp sting of metal graze your back. And even though you knew it was ridiculous, all you could think about was how you wanted to keep him safe. The man was stronger than any other human being, and probably thought you were fragile and helpless, and needed his protection more than anything. But still, you wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to know he could be safe.

“I’ll fight them for you.” you whimper quietly, suddenly worried that Bucky may have already fallen back to sleep.

“Huh? Who- what do you mean?” his words stuttered and tripped over his tongue. His half sleeping brain was suddenly running a mile a minute trying to decipher your statement. Who were you fighting? Why would you need to fight them for him? Surely he was more capable of fighting anyone off. He should be protecting you-

“The monsters” you said a little louder. The words feel childish and awkward in your mouth, and once you said them, you wished to take them back. But you decided to push forward, “if you want me to… if you need me… I’m here”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #fatws bucky #fatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #tfatws #fanfic #post snap #marvel

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maskeddevera · 3 years

Text

I’m going to write a line by line analysis about the Fjord and Jester scene from last night. I had a bad day earlier this week, and the whole episode yesterday made me so happy, and this scene was beautiful, so I’m going to gush about it a bit. This whole episode really turned my week around (with the caveat that I went to bed so missed the final monster introduction.)

First of all, to set the scene, Jester has been struggling (but playing it off) ever since the spell stole a few years of her life earlier in the day. Fjord has been struggling because he realizes he didn’t even try to do anything to protect her, and the spell took a lot, and it could have been so much worse. He goes to her door, I think, mostly to confess that he feels badly that he wasn’t there for her and also vaguely aware that he might share his fear that they might not get that chance to deal with his baggage.

[Fjord knocks on her door.]

JESTER: Hello?

Jester is surprised. They often have heartfelt conversations, but Fjord doesn’t usually visit her room.

FJORD: Um, I was really worried about you...when you fell.

He just comes out with it...here’s the main thing, it was scary to see her fall.

JESTER: Yeah...

It was also scary for her, too.

[heavy eye contact]

FJORD: This suddenly feels far more serious than I thought it might be.

I’m not sure if here he is talking here about visiting the north or initiating this conversation -- but either way, he laughs. He’s nervous.

JESTER: I know. I can’t get the image out of my head...it’s scary.

Fjord gives Jester space to share. Like he said he would, he will listen to her. By initiating this conversation, she feels safe telling him that the image of the city that is haunting her.

FJORD: What do you think will happen?

An open-ended question for Jester. Again, letting her share her thoughts and fears...wanting to know what she thinks.

JESTER: I think if they bring it back, it will, um...it will absorb everything it can.

She sees the possibilities and how dangerous it could become.

JESTER [continued]: It felt like all of the people that lived there, like -- like they were part of the city now, like they could never escape. It felt like hell. It felt -- like torment.

She feels this so hard. It’s eating her up inside.

FJORD: And we have to stop it, right?

Fjord acknowledges that with that information they need to stop it--as a team, but you can see that he is still struggling with his concern for her.

JESTER: Yeah.

FJORD: I -- I may have an, uh, a problem. Uh...

The problem is he loves Jester and is worried that he would lose her. The problem is he feels like he wasn’t there for her. The problem is he is so scared.

JESTER [softly]: What is it?

Suddenly Jester is focusing on him, worried about what Fjord’s problem might be.

FJORD [continued]: I saw you standing on that pillar, and -- it was the first time where I kept myself from trying to stop something that was happening to you, and I didn’t do anything, and it’s--it’s bothered me.

Fjord feels like he screwed up and let her down. He feels like he could have lost her because he hesitated. Like he could still lose her if he hesitates.

JESTER: You couldn’t have done anything, Fjord. It was in my head, you know?

Jester isn’t sure why he’s beating himself up about this one - he didn’t even know what was happening.

FJORD: Uh. Yes.

I just like how he whispers the “yes,” like he knows it isn’t rational, but he still feels it.

FJORD: I don’t want you to gamble with yourself. I--I know we were playing, and it didn’t seem like much, and--it seems to have exacted a pretty serious toll. All I’m saying is, I just--I want you to be careful as we do this--I don’t think we’ll be the spectators that we thought we might be.

Here it is. Why he truly came time. He doesn’t want her to endanger herself. It’s a constant of not wanting her to be hurt or worse. He is starting to realize that they are involved deeper than they thought that they would be.

JESTER: Okay.

She listens.

FJORD: I want to come out of this and be able to go back to the sea, and go back to Nicodranus, and go back to where it’s warm and not f*ckin’ freezing, and...

Here the dream is stated. The happy ending. The sea, Nicodranus...her home, he’s imagining them returning together. A happy ending for both of them.

JESTER: Me too.

She is nodding. Same page. They have talked about this before, being together in a calmer time and place...some day. He is encouraged by her agreement.

FJORD: I just don’t know if that’s--I don’t feel as optimistic now.

More fears laid on the table. Maybe they won’t get there.

JESTER: Me neither. But...I’ll try to be safe. And you should, too.

She worries about losing the happy ending as well. She worries about his safety as well. He smiles when she shows concern for him.

JESTER [continued]: But if it comes down to it, if -- if it means stopping that Thing...I want to stop That Thing.

This decision is so important for Jester, and I love this for her ongoing arc. I also just really like that both clerics have this quest now. #TeamClerics

FJORD: I told your mother I would look after you.

So what I love about this sentence is Fjord absolutely takes his promise to Marion Lavorre very seriously, but that’s not why he says this to Jester. Yes, I do think he sees it as a vow (I love all the meta takes I have seen floating around about this being one of Fjord’s first steps into paladin territory), but what he is really doing here is the Fjord thing in which he uses others as a proxy for his feelings. So when Jester says she might endanger herself for the greater good, and he implies that her mother would be devastated if he had to tell her that something had happened to Jester, mostly he is thinking about how he would be devastated if anything happened to Jester.

JESTER: We’ll be fine, Fjord. We always are.

Jester attempts to reassure him and re-establish how they are a team. You can tell he isn’t fully reassured. And then he says what he really meant when he said “I told your mother I would look after you...”

FJORD: I care very much for you.

His voice in this moment...so real. Notice he still doesn’t use the word love, a token bit of holding back, but love is what is coming from him, and she hears it.

JESTER: Really?

Her trembling voice...all of the signs, and she thought maybe especially with recent events, but she wasn’t sure if she was reading into the gift and the eye contact and the pauses...she is so hopeful here. He nods, and takes a deep breath, and he just wants so badly to take the next step, but he is scared.

JESTER: Is it because I have chiseled cheekbones now?

She says this to break the moment because she feels his hesitation, and also because she’s self-conscious about what happened today. And it’s the best thing that can happen because when they are silly Fjord forgets to be all in his head and nervous.

FJORD: It’s the longer horns...

He’s joking, but also he always seems to find her strength to be the most attractive physical characteristic about her, so of course he picks the horns to compliment.

JESTER: Yeah, it really does it, doesn’t it?

FJORD: Yeah...gives you an intimidating look.

The truth is he was intimidated before the horns got longer. He wants to kiss her so much, so he pulls her in and asks...

FJORD [continued]: Can I kiss you?

Jester is delighted. She thought even if she wasn’t imagining things that this wouldn’t come any time soon. She shyly nods her agreement, and they kiss. I like how he nods and smiles, too, before kissing her -- he’s so relieved that she said yes!

FJORD: I don’t-- I don’t know how this will go. But I can’t promise that I’m going to let you just throw yourself at this thing. I don’t think I can do that.

This confession--he has made it to her before in a different way. Fjord will support her up to the point in which she could get hurt or die, and no more. And I also like how he always frames this confession as somewhat selfish, although it isn’t, because part of the reasoning is that he needs her. Also I think he is holding her this whole time because he never says that he lets her go.

JESTER: I don’t have an argument.

She is fine with him serving as her protector. She’s giddy. Maybe they kiss here quickly again? In any case...

JESTER: Kissing is a lot more fun when you’re not dying.

FJORD: Or, and, not when you’re underwater, drowning.

JESTER: Yeah, yeah...that’s what I mean.

FJORD: Umhmm.

After their first real kiss, they talk about their “other” first kiss - Fjord attempting to save her life. And we see here that while Jester previously wondered if it “counted” or not, it meant something to Fjord too and that he also saw it as a kiss, although it wasn’t the most ideal circumstance. And perhaps that is why they never spoke about it before, because it was easier to leave it in that nebulous area of maybe it meant something more.

JESTER: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

While this statement works for Jester, giddy and flustered, I think it also works for Laura who 100% was not expecting any of this to happen in this session.

FJORD: I’ve wanted to do it for a while...I’m kind of a big coward.

And now that it’s out there, now that she let him kiss him, he feels like he can tell her about how his fears held him back.

JESTER: No, Fjord, you’re very brave.

Jester will always support Fjord and hype him up.

FJORD: I am very brave, aren’t I?

Being brave is facing your fears.

JESTER: Umhm.

FJORD: I feel a bit...better.

This is what love is. Things can still be dark but your loved one lifts you up. He looks at her to gauge how she feels.

JESTER: Me too.

[FJORD & JESTER overlapping voices as they teasingly discuss whether they really have to fight this city.]

FJORD: We can get cats and just flee...

As mentioned in my other post, I think Fjord is discussing acquiring moorbounders, not attempting to abscond with Caleb’s fey cats. Again, this dream is the one about them leaving it all behind together.

JESTER: We have to fight it.

FJORD: All right. I’ll see you in the morning.

JESTER: Okay.

FJORD: Goodnight.

JESTER: Goodnight, Fjord.

[Jester goes to hold her little unicorn, falling asleep holding it. Fjord doesn’t sleep much.]

I just love this final image -- Jester now certain that the unicorn figurine means what she hoped it meant (and hopefully not breaking it in the night). Fjord keyed up and turned on and thinking about the conversation over and over, because he surprised himself with his choices but it went well, better than he ever expected.

#Critical Role #Fjorester #Fjorjester #Fjord #my musings #Jester Lavorre #Jester #Critical Role: Campaign 2 #forgive any typos this is so long I am sure that there are some

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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years

Note

How would the blue lions react to facing/killing their s/o from pre-timeskip in battle?

[Wow, this actually upset me pretty hard when thinking about it lol. This kind of trope always gets me even if it’s being done by two characters that I don’t really like. It doesn’t help that there’s a thunder storm outside that’s making me feel emo. Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!]

Dimitri:

He’s slaughtered so many enemies that there is no more hesitance. His past self felt remorse for those he killed, and after each battle he would reflect on the dead. Unlike now.

He still remembers, but he doesn’t feel guilty. They opposed him and stood in the way of his revenge. To Dimitri, the people he faces in battle are nothing but walking corpses awaiting his blade

The professor had given him orders not to approach any of his old classmates. They wanted to try and save them

He brushed it off as a wasteful effort

“An enemy is an enemy. I care not for who they are or were, I will kill them if they stand in my way”

A regret he’ll live with for the rest of his life

The entire battle was a blurred frenzy. In his state of mind all the cries of those he killed mixed together. He knew not of who or what met his blade

Only when he saw the distress among his inner circle did he realize: he killed you, and he did it without pause

The professor didn’t get their opportunity to talk with you, and you barely stood a chance against his onslaught

Another soul to haunt him

Another loss he has no right to mourn

Another reason to be called a monster

Dedue:

Once reacquainted with his fellow Lions Dedue swore himself to the cause. He would fight without pause till his dying breath

It seemed that having him back was a boost for moral on their end as well, and he felt genuinely relieved to see that ‘everyone’ was alive and safe

Originally he assumed that you weren’t recruited for the battle at Gronder and that he could visit you at the monestary.

When inquiring about your whereabouts to his highness he only received a scowl. It wasn’t something new for Dimitri’s personality so Dedue decided to search during his free time

He spent ages walking around with the expectation of finding you...so, why weren’t you there?

He’d ask the professor if you’ve gone on another mission only to see one of their rare grimaces

Hearing that you’re fighting for Edelgard confuses him. He was certain that your loyalties lied with the kingdom. With a stoic demeanor he’d drop the topic and never bring it up again

Dedue may seem like a blind puppy who serves Dimitri, but he does have his own opinions. He just holds them back well

People mistake it for indifference. Felix takes a few shots at him for his lack of emotion

“You’re telling me that (Y/N)’s not here and you don’t care? Weren’t they your s/o?” “My personal feelings do not matter. If they oppose his highness then there is nothing left to discuss” “You two really are a match made by the goddess. A heartless dog for a feral boar”

When the time comes to cut you down he hovers near your body after the battle. When your buried the grave will never be empty. Every week comes with fresh flowers, and never is there any debris on your stone

Felix:

It was your own fault. If you had backed down like the others then this could have been avoided

If he didn’t do it then someone else would have. If he didn’t then you would have killed him instead

No. No you wouldn’t.

Felix knows that if the roles were reversed he would still be alive

How many people is he going to lose for the sake of the boar? First his father...now- now this

He assumed that after not seeing you in battle once that he was in the clear. You weren’t at the reunion so clearly something else must have been keeping you from coming back

He still could find you after this ended and you both could test your metal like the old days

It was the one relief he had

He wasn’t expecting to see you fighting at her side. Despite his stubborn behavior his affections towards you were obvious to everyone during his youth; something the ‘Emperor’ must have saved as a trump card

It was his responsibility to either make you see reason, or to end it all. He had not come this far just to die from old sentiments

“I will say this once. Get out of my way (Y/N) or I will cut you down”

You wouldn’t move or even fight back. They obviously made you into a human blockade. It was a swift death, something he continues to remind himself of

That was his final battle, one that left his sword heavy and thoughts lax

The future he longed for is gone, so this damn war better have been worth it

Ashe:

Ashe doesn’t like violence. He’s a firm believer that everyone is worthy of a second chance and that people sometimes do bad things for the right reasons. A life is a life, and it is precious

Each morning he wakes is a reminder of how lucky he is to be alive. There is no guaranteed tomorrow, and each day could be his last

He knows because he watches. He watches as the people he used to call friends die for what they believe in. In their mind they are fighting for what they think is right, just as he is

but he wasn’t prepared to fight you

Anyone but you. He prayed to the goddess the moment he noticed that you weren’t at the reunion. He wished for your safety, and hoped that you were not on the opposing side

He prayed that the goddess wouldn’t take you to her side

Despite being away for so long, he still loved you. That feeling was one of the few things he still held onto from his teen years

All faith was shattered when you appeared at the Valley of Torment. What a fitting scenery for how he felt

“Professor, let me try to convince them. No matter what happens I have to try”

and try he did. He begged you to switch sides once you were defeated but it was no use. You were doing what you thought was right

He couldn’t kill you, his bow wouldn’t hold steady even if he tried. The professor took it upon themselves to do it in his stead

He was grateful for their interference, but the image of your body won’t ever be erased from his mind

From then on he visits the church after every battle. He’ll sit at the same pew for hours and reconcile over what he could have done differently

He’d wonder why good people had to die for another’s benefit

Sylvain:

Sylvain finds the situation deplorable. Yet another person fallen to the system

Seeing you on the other side reminded him of Miklan, except you weren’t fighting to gain something. You fought for the side that wanted complete reorder

He thought your loyalties lied with the Kingdom, with him, but people change. The fire behind your attacks only fueled the questions within him.

Questions that he wasn’t 100% sure that he wanted answers to

Sylvain knows hatred, but just what happened to make you willing to give up everything?

He knows better than to blame himself. People didn’t know him for being the perfect partner, but there was nothing he or anyone else could have done to change your mind

What was he supposed to do? Lock you in the prison?Then what? It would only cause more issues. Seeing you in chains or in a cell isn’t something he could handle

You were one of the few people to break his barriers and see beyond the stigmas that others gave him. It was his turn to try and see your side of things, but he was too late

Just one more failure to add to the list. He failed his house, his brother, his friends, country, and now you

After the encounter he’ll be even more unmotivated than before. He only trains because Felix forces him, and never attends any of the extra lectures offered. His humorous mask basically dissolves to reveal what he’s always been hiding: exhaustion and despondence

If anyone tries to comfort him they’ll be brushed off

“Look, would you leave me alone? Don’t act like you understand when you can’t”

No one can, and he doesn’t want them to. He wouldn’t wish this hurt onto his worst enemy.

Annette:

She knew. It wasn’t the first time someone important had vanished from her life. People do not leave without reason

She knew that you were on the Empire’s side. She knew that there was a high chance of facing you in combat

Her father even brought up the possibility when they were alone together. He encouraged her to back down, but she insisted that all would be okay

It did not brace her for the hollow feeling of seeing your corpse

Normally when Annette is sad she’ll garden. If she can’t sleep then the first thing she does is go water the plants while humming one of her little tunes

So, she does. She pretends as if you two never reunited because it’s the only way she can push forward. With the situation as it is there is little optimism among the troops, she can’t afford to give in

She turns her grief into strength and volunteers to help around the monastery

As long as she’s busy then it’s okay. When she’s working then her thoughts can’t wander

Eventually it will settle in though, and she’ll want to vent. Out of everyone she’ll most likely go to Mercedes since she also has someone dear to her on the other side

“I-I don’t know what to do Mercie. It h-happened so fast but I can’t forget it!”

Annette is strong, and will remember you as you were to her. Not a ruthless enemy, but as someone she cherishes

Mercedes:

After the fight she’ll visit your old room. It hadn’t been touched in so long that dust coated nearly everything

The Empire had claimed Emile, and now you as well. When you fell it took all her willpower not to cast a healing incantation

It wasn’t what you wanted. The professor had offered mercy, but you chose death

A freedom she had no right to take away. With swift words she ended your life as peacefully as possible

It came as a shock to those nearby. If she had let the professor handle the deed then perhaps the pain would be lessened

But for some reason she couldn’t do it. Despite the tears in her eyes she refused to let you be pierced by a blade. An incantation would be more swift, painless, and leave your body as it was

While reminiscing in your quarters she’ll tidy up the space. She’ll admire your handwriting on the withered papers, sift through what books you had been reading, and eventually the room will be good enough to be inhabited again

Except no one would ever sleep here again, she knew it in her heart

However, Mercedes also knows that it was your choice. She won’t blame herself over your death, but instead use it as a driving force to protect the people she cares about who are still alive

“May the goddess guide you to eternal peace. I will never forget our time together (Y/N)”

Ingrid:

She wonders if it’s ‘her’ that’s the issue

Everyone she loves is gone. Dimitri is a shell of his former self, Glenn passed, her family’s in shambles, and now you have vanished as well

Ingrid doesn't like to show weakness in front of others, but there’s only so much one person can handle

Even a war-machine feels anguish from striking down people they care about. Ingrid has felt the hardship of losing a lover, but to be the hand striking the blow? How much strain can someone put on their emotions before everything snaps

The days after the world is unanimated. She continues on with her normal regime as if it was a minor bump in the road. Yet food has no flavor, training leaves her body weak, sleep is difficult to come by, and when people speak it’s as if there’s no tone to their voice

He sorrows become rage. She focuses all her negative feelings towards ending the war and it’s horrifying. Ingrid is known for her composure but if you gave her an eye-patch then the prince might have a twin

“This fight has drawn out for too long. Too many innocents have perished, and at the rate we’re going at there will be no future to speak of. Professor, my sword is yours. Let us finish this once and for all”

Pity those who cross her path. If women truly are made of ‘sugar, spice, and everything nice’ then your death has tossed five tablespoons of cayenne pepper into her mix.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Like Wind At Sea

Conrad x Fliss (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man Of Medan)

Warnings: Swearing, !SPOILERS!

Genre: Fluff, A tiny bit of Angst

Summary: Conrad stays in French Polynesia after the events of the game, a force beyond his control forcing him to stay. A feeling he can’t explain keeping him tied to the place. It’s not the place per-se, more like a soul and mind that endured similar torment. Takes a while for him to admit it to himself though. Typical Conrad.

Requested by Anon (we both know who you are XD) Sorry to be getting to your request so late! You know I couldn’t wait to write this fic though! Thank you so much for being my first and only ConFliss request so far, means a lot to me! Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

He has just gotten off the phone with Julia. She calls him every other day to check if he’s still alive and functional - as functional as a mildly unstable alcoholic could be. Not that she’d ever outright say that’s why she’s calling him but he sees it, hears it loud and clear in the tone she uses - the same tone people use to talk a child away from a tantrum or calm them down once they’ve already started one. There’s also the subliminal ‘get your ass on a plane and fly back home’ during every phone call, but he pretends it’s so subtle he doesn’t catch it. Julia never points it out specifically, so he gets away with it.

His sister has every right to worry. It’s been approximately a month since they survived the horrors out on that ghost ship. ‘Survived’ in the most minimal sense of the word - half of their minds are still stuck there, healing the wounds that place left on them. Each person’s healing differently - Julia and Alex seek comfort in one another, the events having brought them closer than ever. Brad has thrown himself head-first in his studies, giving them all his focus and time so the memories can’t haunt him. Fliss has not been seen on land since then. She goes out at sea on her own or with tourist groups, never taking them for long trips or trips far from land - never in the direction of the ghost ship. And Conrad is stuck in a cycle that will kill him eventually. Minimal eating, overdrinking and oversleeping. He barely sees the light of day. He lives in a cheap, rundown motel, leaving his room only in the morning to make his way to the docks to ask about Fliss. He would never admit to himself that he is looking for her per-se. The way he sees it - he’s looking for closure. She’s the only person he feels he could discuss what happened with but he can’t explain why.

Just one conversation, and he’ll be on his way.

When he doesn’t find her - as expected - he goes back to the motel, passing by a liquor store on the way and obtaining his fix for the day. He knocks himself out until further notice. Said further notice is late into the afternoon/early evening when he finally stumbles into the small restaurant near the shore where he always takes a seat by the windows - his gaze always fixated on the docks. Always expecting to see her in the distance. He has a feeling he’ll recognize her no matter how far away she is. His eyes could always find her.

But he only needs them to find her this once, give him closure, and let him go on his way home to his sister and parents. He is so convinced she’ll free him from the invisible chains keeping him here, he has contemplated borrowing a boat to go search for her out on open water but managed to talk himself out of it every time.

“Give it up, son.“ One of the fishermen told him one day when he performed his usual routine of showing up at the docks to ask for her. He has been looking more and more homeless with each passing day, the fishermen and boat captains witnessing this ‘golden‘ boy crumbling under the pressure of the trauma.

“I can’t.“ He replied, eyes searching for the Duke, knowing damn well there was no way he could find it. He believed what he said - he still believes it - he feels trapped and has established that he will stay that way until she frees him.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?“ The fisherman’s question shook him up, sobering him up from the foggy state he has imprisoner himself in. That one question felt like a slap across the face and a punch to the gut simultaneously.

He didn’t buy liquor on his way back that day.

Dropping the phone on the bed he hops in the shower, a sense of excitement keeping his heart beating faster this morning. His tone surprised Julia - he sounded so alive, lively, enthusiastic. Almost like the Conrad she knew prior to those horrors. Sure, every time he called he masked how he truly felt using his sarcasm, humor and Conrad-ness, but Julia saw right through it. Today, on the other hand, it was genuine. Not an act. Hopeful is how she’d describe him.

And he has what to be hopeful for.

Yesterday, one of the older captains actually had something useful to tell him: A female captain reported her return in the next two days. This sent Conrad’s heart racing and mind haywire. He was practically counting the hours, he barely even slept a wink last night. He thought his patience had thickened after a month of waiting but now that she is so soon to return he realizes his patience has only been worn thinner and thinner. The alcohol masked it well though. Now that he’s sober, however, he’s got all the impatient symptoms: bouncing leg, tapping foot, cracking knuckles, muttering to himself etc.

The captain didn’t know a time to tell him for her arrival. That didn’t pose a problem for Conrad though. He is prepared to sit out by the docks all day and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do. He’s been lacking sunlight too, so it’s a win-win situation for him.

He stopped for a quick breakfast in the restaurant - sat in his usual seat, his gaze ten times as focused and sharpened at the boats dancing on the tiny waves, making a plan to rush out of the restaurant the second he laid eyes on the Duke. After the first breakfast he has had in a month he went to sit with the captains and fishermen, all of which poked at him for more details either about his relation to Fliss or about what had happened. The whole town heard of it, some believed it, some didn’t, others questioned it. Conrad knows better than to tell them what happened, or what DIDN’T happen. He knows they’ll peg him for a nut-job with no further discussion.

That was all hours ago, he has lost track of time and despises the idea of checking his wristwatch to see how much of his life he has wasted on the docks. The sun’s setting, so that’s gotta be some indication.

With his mind travelling the oceans and seas in search of her, he’s rather startled to feel a hand on his shoulder. He turns to see the fisherman that tried to set him ‘straight’ a few weeks ago. “Let’s grab a bite to eat, son. Maybe a drink to go with it.” When Conrad shakes his head in the response, the man sighs, “You really can’t give her up, can you?”

“I don’t want to.“ The words automatically leave his lips, like a truth he’s been dying to speak out loud. A smile appears on his face at the sound of what he said. He knows it’s authentic, no matter how automatic it was.

The man chuckles and pats his shoulder. There is an abrupt but odd pause however, Conrad can see the astonishment in the his eyes as they travel to the sunset. “Maybe it’ll be worth it in the end, after all.” He points ahead, causing Conrad’s head to snap back in the direction it was originally facing. A boat, a familiar one, is approaching.

The man steps away right in time for Conrad to jump to his feet, his heart pounding like it did this morning. It’s not an illusion or a hallucination, he’s fucking done with those. It’s real and it’s her.

The time it takes for the boat to reach the docks is killing him, he has to restrain the urge to swim to her and give her a hug. No, that could earn him a slap to the face. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time - but he still wants that hug.

She on the other hand is baffled to say the least. She has grown wary of her own eyes and now she isn’t sure if she can trust them with what they’re seeing. Conrad. The man who was supposed to be long gone from her life is standing in front of her, a smug smile playing at his lips as if to convince her it’s really him. To say her heart dropped at the sight of him would be an understatement. It’s certainly a shock and a surprise but far from unpleasant. She only now realizes how much she’s missed having him around even if they haven’t known each other for long. She can say with 100% certainty that she has never met, nor will she ever meet a person like Conrad.

And not that she’d admit it, but he has a special place in her heart.

“Aren’t I glad to see you!“ He’s the first to speak up, as expected. To his surprise, she’s the one to initiate the hug though. A more than welcome surprise.

“I could easily say the same.“ She mumbles in the crook of his neck, fighting her instinct to hold onto him for a long time and forcing her arms to free him, “But what are you doing here?“ A very reasonable question on her part, one he doesn’t have an answer to. “And why do you look like you just left that boat after years spent on it?”

“Don’t even joke about that.“ He scolds her playfully, causing her to roll her eyes - playing the ‘unbothered‘ card, much like him.

“Answer my question. Both of them.“ She fixates his gaze on hers with a strict glare, not allowing him to look elsewhere. Which seems to have backfired cause he can’t utter a word. She shakes her head, “I guess a drink will unknot your tongue.“ She waves him over, hopping back into the Duke.

He follows without needing to be told twice, “No drinks, thank you. My liver already hates me enough.”

“Your eyebags do too.“ She points out, taking a seat.

He scoffs though he can’t correct her. Who knew oversleeping could cause eyebags too? He sits down opposite her, mind overheating in search of what to say. “So....about that night...”

“It was a nightmare.” Fliss cuts him off, “One I’d like to forget.“

Her words sound familiar to him. He almost laughs when he recalls saying the exact two sentences, word-for-word to Julia over the phone.

“But you can’t.“ He says firmly. “Drop the act, Fliss. I’ve seen it before. No, I’ve DONE it before. You’re not fooling the master of ‘I don’t give a fuck’. If I’m still troubled by it, you are too.“

Frustration is clawing at her, her thoughts contradicting each other. “You’re right, I can’t. But I don’t wanna talk about it either.”

“Ok then, what do you want to talk about?“ He’s not to keen on talking about it either, he was using that as a front. All along, closure is the last thing he’s needed. Company - her company - is the answer.

“What’s ahead. How we’ll let it go, you know? That cheesy shit like the sunshine after the storm.“ She motions to the Duke and the open water, “This is mine. What’s yours?“

He stops to think for a moment, but for some reason he feels obligated to deliver a reply quickly so he automatically blurts out: “First I plan on going back home. I’ve been planning to do that, but I wanted to see you, talk to you first.”

She feels a pang in her chest. Missing. She’s already missing him again at the very thought of him leaving. She tries to brush it off, call it ridiculous, but it refuses to leave her so she pushes onward, ignoring it to the best of her ability. “So you’re leaving soon?”

The logical thing to say here would be ‘Yes’, but he feels like the word has been removed from his vocabulary at the moment. He can’t say it. It’s not what he wants anymore. Or is it? “I mean, that was the original plan but...” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I’m not so sure anymore. I guess it depends...” He trails off, his voice dying down - a rare occurrence. He’s never had this happen to him around any woman ever. He’s a ladies man, and look at him now, timid you could call him.

“Depends on what?“ A feeling worse, more ridiculous than missing him - the hope of him sticking around takes firm hold of her. She knows she should know better, but hell, it’s not time for pride at the moment.

Their eyes meet. “If you’d like company or not.“

His response sends a wave of relief over her, stealing a smile that turns into a laugh from her. “I’d typically say no, but...”

“But my charm has finally knocked you out cold, huh?“ He smirks in his cocky, really-Conrad way.

“That comparison still makes no sense.“ She stands up looking at the sun’s last rays but at the moment it feels more like a sunrise - a new beginning - or it’s the true sunshine after the storm she’s been looking for. “Now, let’s discuss terms over dinner cause I’m starving.“

He chuckles, offering her his hand, which she gladly takes as they start walking down the dock back to the beach. “Terms? You really know how to take the fun out of it.”

She rolls her eyes, stopping to give him a brief kiss on the cheek before quickening her pace, dragging a star-struck Conrad behind her. “That shut you up.” She shoots him a smirk over her shoulder.

It really has shut him up. All he can do is grin at her in awe, mesmerized by how she flipped his life on its ass in such a short amount of time. A month of misery has been erased and turned to bliss in less than thirty minutes.

A phenomenon that he’d like to call - like wind at sea. He’s a sailboat, she’s the wind. She decides his path, he abides. And they’ll sail in harmony together, healing one another, and healing themselves in the process. Just the two of them: Mr. Golden Playboy and Miss No-Nonsense.

If anyone has ever doubted the accuracy of the phrase ‘Opposites attract’, if this doesn’t kill any and all doubt, I don’t know what will.

@chairtiger

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Collide - Chapter 3

summary: Bella survives her first full day at the office with Steve and Javier and earns an unexpected guest on her trip to the market.

warnings: angst, flashbacks/trauma, soft!javi

rating: R

word count: 3.204k

masterlist

chapter 3

Willing yourself to get to work is a challenge the next day. You hate yourself for the way your heart’s about to fly straight out of your chest and take off for some faraway destination. This is precisely why you left Texas behind, to get yourself out of these situations where you’re constantly haunted by the things of the past. Instead, possibly one of the biggest parts of it is going to be sitting right there, at the same cluster of desks as yours, inevitably in contact with you for most of the day.

And what you despise the most is the way that thought makes your heart skip a hopeful beat.

Javier doesn’t deserve your attention, much less your affection. He left you high and dry in Texas for years, leaving you to think that he hated you and regretted all the thirteen years he’d known you—especially your most intimate moment together. Not only that, but his engagement and almost-marriage to Lorraine—her of all people, and you laugh to yourself as you think about the irony—wasn’t much of a secret in Kingsville, especially your lack of an invitation. Your supposed best friend didn’t even want you at his wedding.

And now, he’s your partner at work—and he’s sent you gifts of things you never would’ve expected to receive.

You hate the way Javier can still play such a vicious game of tug-of-war with your heart, and you fume on this as you sit inside the car the embassy had supplied for you and take off for the office. Your thumb drums against the steering wheel as you recall the easy directions Steve had given you before you’d left his apartment last night, trying your best not to dwell on the thoughts that’d plagued not only your morning but also your slumber. Javier never left your mind or heart as easily as he left your life, and now that he’s snuck his way back into the latter, you know it’ll be much harder to kick him out of the former.

When you pull into one of the parking spaces at the office, you release a sigh that you hope will take all your worries with you. You realize the effort was in vain when you get out of the car and step onto shaky legs. Cursing under your breath, you wish you would’ve been able to get more than a sorry excuse for a granola bar down your throat this morning as you walk inside the building. You receive a few stares of confusion as people see you enter, and you simply give them polite nods as you walk by. You hope that when your face is more well known, you’ll receive kinder acknowledgements—though, you’re not sure how thrilled all of these people are to have another woman around.

Steve and Javier are already in when you get to the cluster of desks. You can feel Javier’s gaze on you the minute you’re in their range, and you try to ignore its heat for moment as you drop your keys onto the desk and start pulling out your chair.

“Morning,” Steve greets, looking up from his work briefly to give you a small smile. “I’m glad we didn’t scare you off already.”

You scoff, returning his smile as you sit down. “Luckily. We’ll see what today brings.”

Both men chuckle at your words, and you bite back a smile at the easy interaction. You feel some of the dread for the day already starting to fall away, only to feel something completely new arise when your gaze finally drifts over to Javier. He’s temporarily looked away from you, and so you take the time you can to observe him completely. His beige button-up leaves a few undone, providing a clear view of his upper chest and neck. You try to blink back the memories of the kisses you’d left there under the stars that night, but surprisingly it’s Javier himself who saves you from the torment. He looks back up to you to catch your gaze, offering a hopeful lift of his brow.

“How are you feeling?” Javier asks, and you’re taken aback by the question. You weren’t expecting him to say something so… well, personal.

“I’m alright,” you assure him, trying to hide the smile you want to show him so badly.

“Did you, uh… get everything alright?” Javier sounds almost shy continuing his interrogation.

You can’t help giving him that smile now. “Yeah, I did. Thank you so much for that.” Javier nods, and you notice that he’s barely able to hold his own smile back as he looks down at his work. Despite all the problems left unsolved between the two of you, the interaction triggers a familiar instinct and a nostalgic feeling, as if you’re falling back into your old ways again.

You blink a few times and look down at the files in front of you. No, you try to scold yourself. You can’t do that. Not without resolving things first. You fear that if you fall in step with Javier again in the way you used to, he’ll refuse to open up at all regarding the things he did and has done since you two last saw each other, and you can’t have that. You must know what happened in the in-between, and you know that eventually you’ll have to tell him the same about yourself.

For the workday, though, you’re able to shelve these thoughts as you start to dive deep into what you’re doing. You, Steve, and Javier read through the files you have and discuss them, tracing patterns and making notes of anything that makes more appearances than usual. You start to get the hang of all the codenames and people you’d previously read up on and heard about yesterday, and by the time you’re heading home—which, thanks to Escobar’s sheer invisibility and the lack of action, is at quite a reasonable hour—you feel as if you’re fitting in perfectly.

Steve tells you the same thing as the three of you walk out to your cars, reflecting on your first full day at the office. “You know, it’s really great to have you here,” Steve confesses. “I think that’s the most productive Peña and I have been in a long fuckin’ time.”

You chuckle. “Well, like Connie said: too much testosterone. I’m glad I can help the balance.”

“I never even realized how much we didn’t get done until today,” Steve continues, looking past you to catch Javier’s eye. “Javi, we were shit at paperwork, weren’t we?”

Javier scoffs. “That’s one way to put it, Murphy.” Javier’s gaze then switches to you. “But I’m not surprised. She’s always been able made any situation better.”

You try your best to keep the heat from rushing to your cheeks as you shake your head. “Cállate, cariño.”

“Hablo en serio,” Javier insists with a chuckle. “I see that not much has changed.”

Your soft smile soon starts to turn into a grimace at his words. No, you dipshit, everything’s changed. “You’d be surprised.” You try to look at him and force a smile, but you can tell he doesn’t buy it. Desperately wanting to change the subject, you turn your attention to Steve. “Where’s a good place to go for groceries around here? I haven’t loaded up my fridge or my pantry yet, and I’ll need something to eat tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, we actually go to a market that’s right down the road,” Steve answers, and as you step outside of the office, he gestures to the left. “They’ve got a lot of good stuff for cheap.”

“I… was actually about to head there myself tonight,” Javier says, demanding your attention once again. “I can bring you there.”

You force another smile, this time making it more realistic—despite the drastic change in pace at which your heart now beats. “Great.”

Steve heads to his car, waving his hand as you and Javier do the same. You both continue to walk through the parking lot, heading in the direction of the market. Tense silence fills the air between the two of you until Javier dares to break it.

“So, you—uh, you liked everything?” he asks, his arms swaying rhythmically with his body as he walks alongside you. His dark gaze turns to you, and you meet it to see something familiar sparkling inside of his eyes.

You nod. “Yeah, I really did, Javier,” you assure him honestly. “I actually didn’t expect you to remember my obsession with 100 Grands.”

Javier raises an eyebrow, chuckling a bit. “How could I forget, bella? Those shits were practically all you ate growing up. I must’ve spent at least a hundred dollars fueling your obsession.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” you remark, biting back your smile as your gaze returns to the road ahead of you.

“Por favor, bella.” You throw him a playful glare, and Javier gives you a guilty look in return. “Okay, well, at least fifty.”

“That’s better.” You both laugh to yourselves for a moment, and you let out a soft breath as you decide to continue pressing about what else was in the bag. “What about the pillow?”

You can sense Javier tensing beside you, and you look over to see his shoulders raised just a bit higher towards his ears. It was always a habit of his before to tighten up like that whenever he’s feeling shy or uncomfortable. You used to remedy it by placing your hands on them and easing them back down or wrapping him in an embrace to make him calm, but neither of those are things you’d even consider doing right now. “What about it?”

You hold back a scoff, looking over at him with a single eyebrow raised. “It’s identical to the one I got you. Where’d you get it from?”

Javier’s fingers begin to fumble with each other as he looks at them—another shy habit of his. “You know mi abuela loves to sew,” he begins to answer. “I had it done… I don’t know, a year after you gave me yours.”

Your gaze softens as you continue to look at him. “Really? Why?”

Javier shrugs, finally looking back over at you. “I just felt like it needed a match.”

“And so you kept it? Even after… everything?”

Javier’s dark gaze flashes with pain at your reference to the time and unspoken events that occurred before you saw him again. “You may not believe me, bella, but I really missed you.” You feel a pain in your chest when you realize it’s the second time he’s said those exact words to you. “And having both of those just… I don’t know, it made it feel like I still had part of you.” Javier scoffs to himself, looking to his feet. “I know, it sounds fuckin’ lame.”

“No, cariño, it doesn’t.” You give his shoulder a nudge, causing his gaze to snap back up at you. “But if you missed me that much, why didn’t you give me a call?”

Javier sighs heavily. “I thought you didn’t want to see me ever again.”

“What made you think that?”

Javier raises an eyebrow, giving you a look of confusion. “You told me so. That night.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach and you swallow hard, suddenly remembering the details your conscious has left out over the years.

“So, that’s it?” You scoff as you stare at Javier, crossing your arms defensively. “You’re just gonna go and pretend nothing ever happened?”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, bella,” Javier mutters, his hands fumbling with the bag you’ve given him—something you now wish you could steal back.

“Tell me it meant something.” You’re starting to beg at this point. It’s been eating you alive for so many months, chewing away at your every heart string and shredding your confidence. “Tell me I wasn’t dreaming when I saw the look in your eye that night. Tell me you didn’t regret it.”

Javier’s silent for a long moment as he stares in your gaze, and you eagerly try to find that same look—but all you can detect is his frustration towards you. “I… I can’t do that.”

You frown, feeling your eyes burn with oncoming tears. “Thirteen years, Javier! We’ve been so close for thirteen damn years, and now you’re just gonna leave me in the dark, and tell me that you regret something like that?”

Javier’s now frowning along with you, taking a step closer to look down at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you seriously throwing our friendship in my face? What are you trying to do, prove some kind of point about how you’ve managed to put up with me that long? Are you calling me difficult?”

“No, Javier, don’t be so dense! I’m trying to say that I would expect you to actually be honest with me and not fucking hurt me like this!”

Javier swallows hard, but the anger doesn’t leave his expression. “I am being honest. And if you’re willing to throw our friendship out over one night, then maybe none of it was worth it in the first place.”

His words become the stone that breaks your heart of glass, and you feel the shards slicing at your chest as you nearly fall to your knees in grief. Yet, the pain also fuels your anger, and now you’re taking a step away as you seethe at him. “Maybe you have a point. Maybe I was nothing more to you than a prize to win, all these years.”

Javier huffs. “That’s not true.”

You shake your head. “You’ve already made it obvious, Javier. I get it.” You pause to swallow back your tears of shared pain and rage, giving him the most lethal stare you can muster. “I hope I never have to see you again.”

The pain flashes across Javier’s face quickly, but he tries to disguise it by twisting his face with anger. “I can make that happen.” Javier says the words with certainty, and before you can stop him, he’s already stalking off to his truck. You don’t try to stop him, or remind him that he’s your ride back, or admit that you’re not being truthful—and you don’t know how you’ll live without seeing him ever again, because you love him so much. Instead, you watch as he leaves you behind, and your knees finally give way beneath you as your hands collect the sobs that spill out so violently from your chest.

That’s not a memory you were looking to remember.

You blink a few times, trying to get rid of the painful images and feelings it brings you. “I—I did, didn’t I?” You manage a chuckle, starting to rub your neck in your anxious manner. “Damn, I’m sorry. That was a bitchy move.”

“And just about everything I said and did were dick moves, so don’t worry, we can call it even.” Javier nudges your shoulder in the same way you’d done to him, causing you to smile slightly as you look back at him. “I think we’re mature enough now to realize that we were just two teenagers with a lot of hormones, bella.”

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head as you start to come upon the said market. “The sad part to me is that even when we became adults, we failed to recognize that.”

Javier rests a hand on your shoulder, holding your gaze with hints of heavy regret and hidden pain. “The in-between was never easy, bella. But we’ll work it out.”

You swallow hard. Yeah, I really fucking hope so. But you doubt you’ll be able to get anything out of Javier anytime soon, and you don’t know how the hell you’re going to be able to handle telling him everything about your life as well as how you’ve felt about what you’ve learned of his.

“For now, we have to focus on filling your kitchen with something other than 100 Grands and whiskey.” Javier chuckles with you as he says the words, gesturing to the market in front of you.

You give him a skeptical look as he leads you through the market. “Do you even need groceries, idiota? Or did you make that up as a sorry excuse to come here with me?”

Javier gives you a guilty look while also offering a shrug of his shoulders. “I do need some more coffee.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting yourself revel in the temporary feeling of old as you and Javier explore the market together. He tells you about all the foods he usually seeks out, and which ones are probably best to avoid. He tries to guess on the things he remembers you liking, and most of the time you’ll confirm his estimations while sometimes having to inform him that you’ve since grown a distaste for certain items. You’ll throw together a ton of things—some that you need and some that you honestly don’t, but have been encouraged by Javier to splurge on anyway—and, after about a half an hour of this, you’re heading back to the office to get your cars. The sun is just starting to sink lower in the Medellín sky, and you can tell it’s having an effect on Javier as he slowly starts opening up to you again.

“I feel like I need to thank you, bella,” Javier confesses, looking over at you as he carries some of your bags for you.

“For what, cariño?” you remark, returning his gaze with softness.

“I just—uh, I haven’t felt this much like myself for a long ass time,” Javier informs you. “It’s almost like… I don’t know, like you’re the only person who can bring that back out of me. So, um, thank you.”

You give Javier a warm smile—a genuine smile—and feel yourself beaming up at him. “I’m glad you can be yourself around me, Javier. No matter what’s happened since we’ve last seen each other, or whatever the hell I said before you left that night, just know that you can always be yourself around me.”

“Noted.” Javier throws you a wink with his word, and you playfully roll your eyes as you give his shoulder a shove.

As Javier helps you get the bags into your car, you’re torn between being scarily happy and rightfully pissed at yourself for what you’ve just allowed to happen. You know you shouldn’t be letting Javier get off the hook this easily, that you should be making him work harder to earn your good graces again, but you also can’t deny the relieving feeling of becoming close to him again. When you watch him wave goodnight as he gets into his car, you can’t help smiling to yourself at the way you’d both so effortlessly clicked again, even though you know there’s a lot more shit waiting in a storm cloud that’s hovering dauntingly over your mind and heart.

But you know what they say: old habits die hard.

chapter 4

translations:

Cállate, cariño = Shut up, sweetheart

Hablo en serio = I’m serious

Por favor, bella = Please, beautiful

tags: @tarrevizslas @none-of-your-bullshit @lavenderl3mons @gooddaykate @flower-petal-blooming @stilllivindue2spite @mrsparknuts @fionnthebandersnacc @pisss-offf-ghostt @gaydreamland @longitud-de-onda @literallytrashhhhhh @kkgraham @arrowswithwifi @rage-isaquietthing @awesomefandomsunited @theforceofdarkandlight @murdermewithbooks @blushingwueen @rachelloveseveryone @madadlorian @ah-callie @mrsdaamneron @lokiaddicted @arcadianempress @benakenalove @wickedfrsgrl @pascalisperfect @absurdthirst @weirdowithnobeardo @lcandothisallday @sailorflowermoon @engineeredfiction @souls-rain @kaylaylaylayla @cailoleaf @unintentionalwriter @earthtokace + irishleesh93 & moonlightmrvel

#and I feel soft in this chili's tonight #dang you javier #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #collide fic #narcos #narcos fic #dindjarindiaries

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honeyjxsung · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids as your boyfriend

m.list

Request: can u write a reaction for skz as your boyfriend?? please include woojin ONLY IF YOU DONT MIND, its comforting having him there still. ty!

a/n: this is my first reaction lol so pls be kind to me >.< i feel like this was too long so i apologize, but nonetheless Enjoy <33

Woojin:

Literally a teddy bear

He's so cuddly its crazy

Like he may not seem like it but he really loves cuddling with you

But only when yall are alone

I think he’s moderately clingy(?)

Like he’s down to hold your hand in front of his members but he gets embarrassed when you kiss him in public

A lot of forehead and temple kisses

Radiates husband energy

Like he's big husband material right there

Many picnic dates or just walking outside by the river

He will use his angelic voice to his advantage

He will serenade you with his guitar or piano

And every single time you melt

Literally gives bear hugs

And not the suffocating type

When he engulfs you into his arms you feel warm inside

And both of you love it

fighting

He’s the oldest so he’ll be a bit calm and collected when it comes to fighting

He would want to settle things down completely

Like there’s no way either one of you is going to bed mad at each other

It just wouldn’t feel right

If it was his fault he’ll quickly apologize and be the bigger person and will make it up to you with a cute gift

If it was your fault he’ll instantly (and reasonably) forgive you and shower you with kisses

He just doesn’t want to fight with you

Also

He’s just the right amount of jealous you feel?

He’ll leave you alone and let you have your freedom

But if anyone gets too close to your liking, you best know he’ll be right by your side

And that’s why you’re so grateful for him

Because he’s always there

Chan:

A really caring boyfriend

Always puts you first

Like always

But then again he’s a busy guy, given that he’s a leader of an idol group and all

And you get that

So you’ll normally spend some time with him in the studio

And you don’t mind because you love seeing him be so passionate about something he loves

But he would feel bad for making you stay with him so every once in a while he may take you somewhere fancy

He’s someone to give lots of back hugs

Most of the time he’ll back hug you unexpectedly because he thinks you being surprised is absolutely adorable

And the nicknames oh my god

yALLREADY KNOW about ‘baby girl’

He’s gonna call you that a lot

Fighting

Fights will mostly be about him and his well being

The fact that he isn’t taking care of himself even if he’s saying he is just makes you a tad bit frustrated

And when you try to talk some sense into him, he also grows irritated because he’s so exhausted with everything

Which is why he may be a BIT stubborn when it comes to arguments

But he’ll later realize how childish he's being

He might unintentionally raise his voice, but will immediately soften up when he sees you tense

Whether or not it’s his fault, he’ll apologize nonetheless

He's a mature guy so he’s good at handling situations like this

But fighting isn’t common so luckily he doesn't have to deal with it often

He will end the fight by pulling you close and kissing you forehead

“Im sorry babygirl”

Ever so often he’ll let you listen to his unfinished works to get your opinion

He just wants you by his side because it gives him a sense of comfort

Minho:

He has a lot of difficulties showing his emotions, but he’s really so loving towards the people he loves

especially you

You both tend to tease each other a lot, but that’s just how you guys are

Pda and all that lovey dovey stuff may seem a bit awkward, but when he’s in need of attention, he’ll just cling on to you and not say anything

And you would have to shower him with affection to get him satisfied

And don’t worry, he’ll gladly return the favor in a blink of an eye

He tends to show his feelings physically

Like have you seen him with his members?

He will be all up in your face

Will love laying on your lap

Or he’ll just try to purposely annoy you because that's how his brain supposedly works

Fighting

You guys would bicker a lot, and you wouldn’t really have actual fights, but there would be times when it would get serious

The cause would either be because of jealousy or he has been neglecting you

By neglecting you, i mean him not really showing any emotion toward you

It may take a while, but he will apologize

When he’s forgiven hell jump into bed with you and just hold you tight

If it’s you who’s apologizing, he wouldn’t really ‘say’ that he’s forgiven you

He would silently pull you close and kiss you

But that action alone will say a lot

Once again he's a jealous boy, so don’t be surprised if he holds onto your waist a bit tighter than before and clenches his jaw when you walk by some guys

Or a guy

Really he wouldn’t explicitly say that he’s jealous

He’ll just drop subtle hints

“That guy had big muscles don’t you think?”

But in the end you always tell him you love him and it makes him feel a whole lot better

But other than that he can be straightforward with other things

That’s why his members call him a statue

Because he tends to be soulless and poker-faced most of the time

Even when he’s trying not to be

But deep down you know how much of a softie your boyfriend can get

Changbin:

He’s honestly such a cute bean

Will try to act all tough and ‘tsundere’ like but you both know he can’t keep that up

He’s actually really cheesy and clingy

And sometimes he can be a handful, but it's alright

He always gets picked on by his members about his height

So if you are shorter than him he is not going to let that opportunity of teasing you pass

He will snicker as he compares your heights

But of course you can’t let his cockiness get the best of him

So the other 8 members have your back and torment the poor boy

‘Wait that’s not even fair i'm being outnumbered!’

‘y/n, you were supposed to be on my side!’

He wants to impress you so he’ll invite you over and flex his rap skills

And 100% of the time he succeeds

Because you can never get over his flow

Fighting

This guy is also really insecure so he’ll be pretty jealous and that’s mostly the cause of your fights

He’s afraid that he isn’t good enough and that he doesn’t deserve you

And that is absolutely not true

He’ll mostly cry only because he hates fighting with you

But of course he’s not gonna show it

He is someone who needs to recollect himself and will probably need some time by himself

And that’s when he’ll let it all out

He’ll feel embarrassed if he cries in front of you

So he tries his best to not cry when you’re near

When he’s calm he’ll apologize

And you give in quickly

Thank goodness

He just wants a bit of attention

Ok maybe a lot of attention

Because as much as he says he loves dark

Hes babie

Hyunjin:

Your typical ulzzang boyfriend

He’ll take you to cute cliche dates

Cute walks at the park with ice cream

Also we all know how much he loves photography

He will take so many selfies with you and him

His phone is just filled with him and you doing stuff together

And occasionally some kkami pics

But mostly you two

He’ll bring you to the practice room and show you his dance moves

And possibly he’ll teach you some too

When he’s all sweaty he’ll tease you and try to hug you but you’ll run away from him

And most of the time it’ll end in play fighting

He’s gonna hug you either way and you start hitting him

But then again he can’t help it

Because he’s also really clingy and in need of your touch 25/8

Fighting

Alright so ALL know hyunjin can be a petty bITCH

no cap

He fights with his members so there will be times where he may fight with you

But obviously it’s not as violent you know

Nothing physical

What yall are fighting about is probably stupid or small

He just tends to over exaggerate things which makes it become serious

And when he’s mad he can get pretty sarcastic and it gets kinda scary

Will most likely roll his eyes and give you the cold shoulder

You normally have to apologize first or make a move in order for him to apologize back

Almost all the time he’ll feel bad ignoring you so he’ll end up crying when you go up to him

He’ll spend his entire week not leaving your side

As a way to make it up to you

Did I mention he was clingy af?

Likes to wrap one arm around your shoulders

Doesn’t really say it out loud but he loves the height difference

He’ll subtly make things harder for you just to see you slightly frustrated

He finds it cute

Like he’d put things on the top shelf so you can call him to get it

“Babe can you please help me?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

“Hyunjin!”

Jisung:

A cheeky mf

Loves to go out on dates, but if it’s anything scary, he’s gone

Expect many karaoke dates

He’ll try serenading you singing all up in your face

But you’ll just roll your eyes and laugh at how cringy he’s being

Cuddles for days

He loves to show affection and get attention so he’ll always be with you so you can drop small compliments to make him happy

And it does

He’s really good with his words so the sweet nothings he’ll tell you often make you blush

And it’s surprising how quickly he makes them up on the spot

His freestyle skills are being put into good use am i right?

Once again he craves for attention so give him lots of praise

Oh and he keeps saying he’ll protect you or whatever but if you take him to a haunted house or anything related to that, he’ll hide behind you the entire time

He’s just a wimp

Likes to give you pet names

“Baby” is a regular though

Just somewhere along those lines

He tends to lay on your lap so you can play with his hair

If he falls asleep you normally take your chance and braid his hair so he wakes up looking like a 5 year old girl

Fighting

Petty bitch #2

Just like hyunjin, jisung doesn’t really let his guard down

Because he’s good with words it’s difficult to win an argument with him

Even if he knows he’s wrong he’ll try his best to make him sound right

His pride tends to take over him and he’s aware that it’s a bad habit

He tries to fix himself because he doesn’t want to hurt or scare you

But when he’s really angry he will go oFF

He’s one of those types to realize what he’s done right after he’s done it

He’s quick to regret

So unlike changbin, if he ever scares you, he’ll immediately run up to you

He’d carefully hold you and repeatedly apologize

He’s a big cryer as well

Even if it’s in front of you his eyes will be bawling

And of course you forgive him

Yall will just end up on the couch or in bed holding each other but not utter a word

Felix:

Ok this boy is the sweetest

He’s extremely caring and gentle to all

He tends to show his love physically

Whether it’d be hand-holding, kissing, hugging, touching you in general, you name it

It explains why he's so mf clingy

And you mf love it

Every once in a while he’ll give you gifts for no reason

Such as a promise ring

He has one to match as well

He wears it everyday and gets all giddy when he sees you wear it too

Staying up to watch him play games is a regular

He always keeps the spare controller open because he wants you to join

And you do

Except most of the time you don't know how to play

At first he’d laugh at how terrible you are and would kill you every game to see you pout

But when he sees that you actually wanna play for him he gets soft and eventually teaches you the controls

Will die on purpose to see your face light up

Fighting

Okay lowkey this guy can be scary

He tries not to raise his voice, but his deep tone still sends shivers down your spine

Fighting may result in him cursing loudly in english (assuming yall are speaking korean)

But not at you

Never would he curse at you

Just out of frustration

When he sees you tear up he calms down a little and sighs

Without speaking he’ll open his arms out to you and will embrace you tightly

He’d say sorry and will try not to cry in front of you to stay strong

But if he does he won’t show it

So he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck so you won't see his tears

He just really hates fighting with you so it makes him sad

but don’t worry, fighting is a rare occurance

he’s really energetic most of the time, so be prepared

will love running around and yelling

he’s like a hyper 12 year old

and its cute

Seungmin:

Oh this guy

He’s a bubbly boyfriend

You’d describe him as a hyper puppy and the name fits him well

His face lights up when he’s with you and it’s so cute

The members are lowkey freaking out because the boy acts so mean to them

They literally think he’s a different person when you’re around

It’s because he acts as if you’re made of glass

Like anyone can tell that you’re so precious to him

And hOODIES FOR DAYS

Seungmin’s wardrobe is literally full of hoodies so you have a great amount of them

Like when he’s sorting his clothes, he’d have a separate pile for you

It would be all the clothes he’s willing to lend to you

Similar to hyunjin, his camera roll would be full of you

But the thing that makes him and hyunjin different is that it won’t be selfies

It's just pictures of you and the scenery

But he knows you’re the real view (gag)

The candid photos are his favorite because it really captures your natural beauty

He can stare at your pics for hours as creepy as it sounds

You get embarrassed but he hypes you up and calls you beautiful

And unlike han, the boy doesn’t really get scared easily so he can ACTUALLY protect you if yall are doing something slightly terrifying

But that’s after he laughs at your scared reaction

Which brings me to my next point

Occasionally he likes to tease you

A little pranks here and there

And he’s so glad that you can take a joke

Because you’ll always get your revenge

Which is why there’s never a day when your relationship gets boring

Fighting

Honestly I can't picture having a major fight with seungmin

But it would probably because he did or said something that really crossed the line

He’d get very defensive with hints of sarcasm

He wouldn’t necessarily yell or scream

He’d slightly raise his voice, though, to get his point through

When he gets to his boiling point, however, he would leave the room to blow off some steam

He’d use the time to really reflect what he’s done

When he comes back he’ll immediately go to you and hug you

He hates when you fight

He would very much prefer the small bickering any day

Jeongin:

Oh this precious gem

You and i.n would be in the honeymoon stage but not really

Like you guys are very comfortable with each other, but you are still lovey dovey, you feel?

But of course he won’t do the cute stuff in front of the members

holding your hand is an exception, but that’s it

He’ll get too flustered in front of them and he doesn’t want to be teased

He’s super cuddly and cuddles will often result in play fighting

He’s also super super giggly

You live for his laughs

It just brings an immediate smile to your face

Like who doesn’t adore him?

Dates are either really exciting or really chill and relaxing

Like amusement parks and karaoke rooms on one hand and staying inside to sleep or play video games on the other

But if yall are inside it’ll either be at your place or at his when the members are gone

He’s just way too shy

Hoodies for days part tWO

He’ll be the type to give you his baggy clothes

The way you look small in them makes him feel a bit more manly as if you’re his responsibility

He’s so used to being baby-ed that he wants to be the man for once

You have an unlimited supply of his hoodies

Its great

Plus jeongin loves when you give it back and your scent just marks the entirety of the fabric

It smells like home and he finds comfort in it

Just like how you find comfort when you can smell his cologne

Seriously it sounds weird, but trust me it’s cute

Obviously, he won’t tell you that he loves your perfume because he thinks he’ll make it awkward

But it's just something he looks forward to when you’re exchanging his hoodies

Fighting

Even though he is the youngest, jeongin tries to be mature

He’s very understanding so fights will be rare

But then again he’s also extremely reserved

He’ll keep his negative feelings bottled up until he can’t take it anymore

He won’t really yell, he’ll just keep talking and talking

And he won’t let you interrupt because this boy has a lot to say

Arguments usually happen because he takes his anger out on you unintentionally

So he’ll apologize when he sees your widened eyes

He’ll soften up and will say sorry quietly before kissing your forehead

He might cry as well because he will feel so bad

But you hush him as you hug his body tightly, telling him that it’s okay

Everything is okay.

#kpop #stray kids #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #skz #skz imagines #kpop reactions #stray kids reactions #kpop fluff #kpop angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #k

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dise7se · 4 years

Text

threshold

by: @spideysforce (7k)

rating: general/teen and up audiences

relationships: peter parker & tony stark, peter parker & mj & johnny storm & gwen stacy

characters: peter parker, tony stark, michelle jones, johnny storm, gwen stacy, & ned leeds

summary:

peter: 17, a little shit camper, teenager, about to leave for college and it’s the end of summer

tony: a tired, 27 year old man, turns into a teeangers dad

buzzfeed unsolved au, a msyterious warehouse at summer camp, and found family

leave comments and kudos on ao3

When Peter first got to camp, it was tortuous. It felt like aunt May was sending him for some kiddie math camp, for fuck’s sake, he was 17.

Stark Camp was an elite stem camp, only the brightest minds arrived here, no matter what their demographic, income, or social status. He applied, or was forced to apply by May, to work on robotics projects whilst there. To Peter’s absolute horror, whoever this billionaire trust-fund guy Stark was, was his camp counselor.

His fucking camp counselor.

Peter heard about the first summer camp session, he was participating in the second, which started at the beginning of August. His friends came back home to Queens from Stark camp, a ghost rattling in the old shell of their bodies, their soulless eyes begging for reprieve, the dark circles under their eyes indicating their primal instinct for victory in the camp competitions, to impress the mysterious genius billionaire they so desperately wanted to rob.

He spent the entirety of the summer trying to escape the camp, it was like everyday Mr. Stark (no, he won’t call him anything else,) targeted him only, saw some sort of promise in him, but he’d merely point to his friends and take the burden of being recognized off of him. May’s math camp. No. He can’t be noticed here, because maybe they’ll start talking about college, and how to prepare for college. Yuck.

Not that Peter was avoiding going to college, of course he’s applying. But it’s summer. His last summer before college, he needs to go out with a bang. Not some nerd camp in upstate New York. At least MJ is here. He’s 99% sure she joined to make fun of everyone’s projects, be condescending, and cause as many issues as she can while simultaneously keeping productivity to the bare minimum by scaring everyone. Yeah, that’s MJ right there.

He peeked back at her from over his shoulder and away from his robotics equipment during their scheduled tech building time, she sat at the table behind him to talk to the group about, 10 minutes ago, Peter forgot while he secretly executed Plan Ghouls, (yes MJ named it), while Tony oversaw everyone in the recreation center at camp, and maybe it’s because the Stark family is fucking rich they don’t deserve any money at all, this building looks way too nice to be here.

It was like Tony Stark, this billionaire who is barely even 30 years old, was fucking with him, Peter Parker personally. Did he enjoy tormenting his group? He acted warily around MJ, like finding a wire in a maze leading to a fuse. He’d never seen anything more glorious; a nearly thirty year old man scared of a 17 year old. Peter analyzed the older man and concluded that he is an eight year old with the wisdom of an eighty year old.

Ned promised he’d call every single day of camp, and Peter thought he’d actually die without his best friend at camp, disintegrate on the spot like some formidable being pulling apart every atom, until he’s lost in the atmosphere, drifting away like he never existed. He missed his best friend, okay? Who else would he talk to about.. the thing, his weird spider senses, and possible crime he could stop from 100 miles away from Queens.

His guy on the computer had other plans for the end of the summer, his family was going to visit their cousins that Ned conveniently was ecstatic to go on, leaving Peter to rot and die alone in summer camp. A haunted summer camp.

Peter snuck another entire circuit board into his pocket. Morally, this is very wrong. He reprimands himself over it. But, technically, he paid for this with his camp fee?

He uses less equipment for his actual projects than.. their secret project. He will use the same amount of equipment, just one is not prohibited because he technically can’t make secret projects on the side that may or may not pertain to the spooky warehouse half a mile out that Tony Stark refuses to comment on.

“Hey!” MJ yells right beside his ear, and he fumbles the lego pieces he contemplated taking in his hands and screeches. She laughs, holding her side, “Did I scare you?”

Peter plasters the best glare he can on his face, “No, you didn’t, I just yawned.” She will not win, whatever contest she made up in her head for the…. ghost catching competition, he will be two steps ahead of her and he will win. No matter how many horror movies they watch, and no matter how scared he is of her when she has no reaction except for laughter during their movie nights in the woods at night with the rest of the camp.

Countdown to Plan Ghoul’s execution: 3 days, 6 hours, 20 minutes.

—

They became acquainted with the weird, annoying show-off Johnny the second week of camp. So, last week. Peter wouldn’t call Johnny his friend, maybe not even acquaintance, but Johnny wears ugly cargo pants and stuffs them with extra robotics lab equipment like beakers, (what the fuck do they need beakers for?), and somehow stuffed a Kit in his shirt. He’s sure Johnny is going to forget and sit down with a beaker in his pants and break his ass with glass.

MJ was the first to initiate the alliance at the beginning of camp. They’ve been here for the second half of their summer, so of course she devised a devious plan.

They both hated Johnny at first, and that is exactly why Peter watched MJ reel Johnny into their plans once they’re in the Stark Camp Lab. MJ acted dryly and sarcastically around everyone she hated, drawing her to Johnny and Peter suffered the consequences. Peter lost count of the amount of times Johnny showed off his projects to the camp counselors, not long after stealing parts from a group nearby. MJ watched, intrigued, and Peter would always end up with his head down on his desk. And MJ would follow suit with Tony’s back to them, she would gather up all of Johnny’s wrenches, bolts, his keychain, and he’s pretty sure she got an arm of the collaborative robot in the corner.

And then the next dewy morning, the humidity was too thick and their eyes were unable to open from the night before because Tony told a story about a demon coming to life at the campfire, it’s real Tony has totally seen it, MJ and Peter were on breakfast duty with the camp counselors. The smell of tinder reeked on their flannels, but Tony pulled out the chocolate chips the moment he arrived, the other camp counselors shot glares at him. Peter had to turn away to hide his snicker.

This is when they met Gwen. She was part of another camp counselors group, and the two of them had their hair done, Gwen had cool piercings, even one on her face, with a vinyl knapsack by her feet full of patches. Her camp counselor has an itinerary, and oh, my god, it’s laminated, and Peter’s eyes widen and he thinks his pupils turned into the shape of hearts. The last time he saw an itinerary and Tony did not lose them while hiking was the first day of camp. Gwen’s camp counselor, Jen, even brought snacks for all of them.

MJ propped herself up on a nearby table in the kitchen and Tony rambled on about how his father never sent him to camp, and if he knew he’d practically be a boy scout out here in the woods he might’ve considered it. Peter thinks he heard the man say he was working towards his bachelor degree at their age. What a weird guy.

Johnny walked in, and Jen, the cool camp counselor reads out his last name and it’s Storm?! Peter imagines Johnny is the type of guy to steal his hypothetical sister’s toys and bury them in his suburban backyard and blame it on ghosts, and of course he tells MJ this theory.

MJ flips pancakes on the stoves, the hiss of the pancake mix to heat loud enough to drown out her inconspicuous whispers Peter nearly drops his spatula from her blaring whisper, “I sketched a prototype and stole Tony’s pencil. Our first prototype is called the Poltergeist Machine.”

He lowers his shoulders and sends his best glare, snarling and pointing with his head at Tony who is two feet away and yelling at someone on the phone about the physics kit they needed for today. “Are you crazy?! Also, that’s the ugliest name I’ve ever heard.”

MJ snarls back and throws her arms up, “Okay, well maybe names are not my forte!” And when Peter mumbled maybe under his breath, he really did know from a sixth sense that her shove was coming. And his shoulder nudges into something, and ouchie, that hurt, and it’s fucking Tony, off the phone and staring at them with his eyebrow quirk. Peter thinks he practices it in the mirror every night before bed, like brushing his teeth. He does it every day. He had never seen the man’s reaction into Peter physically bumping into him, though they did like messing with him. He was their counselor, they were bound to test his boundaries to see how much it would take to get in trouble, they’re sweet teenagers and not heathens.

Tony did nothing, and awkwardly shoved him away when Peter just stared and gawked at him.

Johnny and Gwen talked about college with Tony, who stayed on his phone and muttering, “Yeah, kids, you’ll get in,” and, “sure, yeah, we can work out a letter of rec,” and Peter pondered over his inability to plan more than three minutes ahead and felt a drop low in his stomach, because in two weeks he’d be beginning his college applications for senior year.

He and Ned had their own college plan, to keep his guy in the chair nearby while he could vigilante his college town and get a physics degree. Ned gravitated toward an engineering degree or a journalism degree, he’d probably double major. That was the best plan they’ve made so far. This, and their plan ghoul, Ned had sent cryptic messages about the nearby warehouse being abandoned and never showing up on maps online. Ned had yelled very loudly over the phone to be careful because this might require Spider-Manning, and Peter yelled over his voice so nobody else could hear.

Johnny had glared at him from ten feet away in the field during that phone call and walked away.

And he looked at him the same way now. This little shit. I will get into college. Maybe I’ll get my own Tony letter of rec without showing off.

Peter knows what’s going to happen next when he turns to stomp away, his foot caught in the strap of MJ’s backpack she left thrown on the floor and sends him skidding. Geez. He hears metal clanking, and what the fuck, did he knock over a table or something? And MJ throws herself towards her backpack before his brain can connect her actions to conclusion, and there’s a robot hand skidding across the floor the same, resigned way he did.

The robot hand. The fucking robotic hand.

They’d have to face Mr. Stark’s wrath, and he feels like he’s entered Hell, forget the commandment and We should fear and love God so we do not tell lies about our neighbor, betray him, slander him and he hears the robotic and smash into the table and break, and Tony lunges at it like it’s some family heirloom that he intentionally broke.

“MJ!” He squeaks, like he hasn’t been through puberty and is nearly an adult. Johnny’s mouth falls open and he tugs on Gwen’s sleeve as if everybody here to cook breakfast wasn’t staring in awe, and he hears war cries from MJ demanding whoever planted these supplies come forward and reveal themselves or she’d send a witch to curse them.

It was like a 1995 school drama show, the pancakes burning on the stove and the unamused camp counselors fiddle with the ends of their shirts and Tony stares at the sight of devastation and MJ sheepishly smiles. Gwen is the first to break the silence, she snorts unattractively and covers her face. “Sorry. That was a little funny.”

Tony merely zeroed in his gaze on the two of them, hovering over them though he wasn’t much taller, attempting to humble them with his menacing face. He points two fingers at his eyes in the I’m watching you way, signaling his two fingers back to them. It’s not like they hadn’t witnessed Tony the day before steal the flags for their ‘capture the flag’ game because they kept losing.

Stem camp was camp, Peter woke up scrambled every day, usually covering his face from the morning sun when Tony would pound on the door and swing it open and let the morning sun blind him. He isn’t sure how he woke up MJ, but he always waits 15 minutes after he wakes up Peter, and he thinks he hears gentle knocks and a little, “Good morning!” before he takes off to begin his day with way too much caffeine and energy.

Tony, in all his glory, is a hot mess and begs his supervisor to let him join the kids’ activities, and she usually says no but he jumps into the lake, anyways, yelling at MJ and Peter to use life vests. The camp supervisor, Virginia Potts, is usually in leggings and a t-shirt or tank top, her strawberry-blond hair in a ponytail, and always has her clipboard in her arms with tidied stacks of paper. She is always smiling, is modulated and soothing, like honey in a comb in the sun. Whenever Peter runs into her, he immediately straightens his back and wonders if its worth borrowing the robotics equipment before they put it back for plan ghoul.

Pepper usually stands at the edge of the lake, a fixed gaze set on a floating Tony, her tin tucked in and her hip out. The first time Tony decided to ditch his camp counselor duties and join in with them and was approached by Pepper, he waved to her from the top of a rock enthusiastically. “Tony!” she exclaimed and everything she lectured him about seemed to go in one ear and come out the other.

“What is the number one rule of being a camp counselor, Mr. Stark?” Pepper had asked, while Tony striked Peter with a toy lightsaber they built that afternoon, and he nearly doubled over but was grabbed by the shoulders and held up by the menace in question. The weight of the saber wasn’t very heavy and it was made up of plastic, but Peter yanks the cool metal sword from his counselor’s arm. He’s never had any siblings and doesn’t know if Tony has either, but talking about baseball and college and physics having someone surprisingly grounding and comforting when he wandered off while hiking and busted his knee, for some reason Tony was good at first-aid.

“We totally deserve a team pet!” Peter huffed at the campfire, their group settling in after a round of night zip-lining.

“For God’s sake, we will not adopt a stray racoon for the team,” Tony yells from inside the cabin, bringing his stash of s’mores supplies he kept hidden and possibly explains the ants on the premise and not secured in the kitchen. “A mascot, maybe.”

“Please, this is Cranberry Lake, we do not need a pet to keep us from the ghosts,” Gwen declares, and before she can continue Peter screeches.

“So, you do admit there are ghosts!”

Tony shivers dramatically once he rejoins the group in front of the campfire and the fire crackles in his face. Peter gasps, and Tony turns in worry, fearing the fucking kid is fucking asphysxiating. “You see! Tony just shivered when you mentioned the ghosts.” “Lowering your voice won’t do anything, you dipshit!” Johnny unnecessarily adds, getting tossed by a marshmallow and being directed into the direction of the nearby trees to sit in timeout by the all-knowing being Tony who declared if they cussed anymore they’d be sent to timeout, the Goddamned Almighty.

“One more bad word out of you guys and next time you’re going to watch me swim in the lake, using all of your floaties while you watch from the dirt, wallowing in your own despair.”

“Can I go back to Jen’s group?”

“Absolutely not. You three are keeping me alive at camp as it is,” Tony informs them as if they hadn’t noticed the man was really an 8 year old in an adult’s body. “Even Pepper agreed. She says my campers keep me alive.”

Tony floats on his back in the outdoor pool, the cold water reflects the sun and Peter floats nearby on a yellow inflatable pool float with printed dandelions on it.

His friends chatter nearby, but his head leaning against the plastic floaty drowns the sound out. He hears his inner ear and hates it. Tony grunts, moving to grab his glass with juice and a small umbrella in it. This billionaire, the head of a company producing the world’s greatest and innovative technology was ridiculous.

“Queens is..” Peter starts their conversation again, afraid he’s too quiet and the older man didn’t hear him. “Queens is my home. May and Ben raised me there, and being away from it sucks. I can’t be there to help.”

MJ sits at the other end of the pool on the hot cement, gasping when she lowers her legs in. She sounds too far away to them, in their own little corner. He raises his head to see if Tony had even heard him, but he seemed sipped from his drink and hummed to himself.

He waited for an answer before he nearly blew his cover again.

“Hometown of Parker. On Long Island, Citi Field, and supposed home of a vigilante, I think,” Tony supplies an answer, and Peter thinks, shit, he knows, “Once, Spider-Man dropped a hot-dog on my head.”

Peter laughs, freely, and shit, act natural, Peter, because the older man that he trusts but can’t seem to get the words off his tongue, his identity reveal, he’s never wanted to tell anybody else. Ever. It was his responsibility, his alter-ego, but he trusts him, for some reason.

The earth aligned them together, and whatever brought them together doesn’t make any sense.

A mentor who understood him, who was a mere 10 years older than him, who had regrettably become friends with his Aunt May, and those two were forces in his life he wouldn’t know what to do without. Maybe that’s what happens when someone mentors you all summer and genuinely cares.

Tony was brilliant. Sure, him being here was confusing, but he wanted hands on experience in his company. Tony told them stories of the previous campers and which ones reminded Tony of them. When in the college application workshop the camp offered, he revised Peter’s papers and saw another piece of him on paper.

Tony Stark was caring, gentle, he was a walking encyclopedia, his skepticism had kept a barrier around him at the beginning of the summer, but slowly thawed out the more he lived. If words have had no weight his entire life, he’s owing it to every teenager here to keep his promises and Peter wonders if anyone has ever kept their promises to Tony. A glass barrier, built from sand and liquid and carefully molded to protect him and encase him.

Practically a kid when he lost his parents. Peter had read about it in the papers and saw news channels open every fragile wound on TV, and he remembers the news reporters surrounding Uncle Ben’s death.

He isn’t sure what else has the older man so guarded, but he knows they are slowly breaking the crystalline around him, his meddling heart wrapped around this camp and the brilliant minds. He knows Tony is good, past his cynicism is pure optimism, and is is an excessive coffee drinking, smells of motor oil and marshmallows, mentors anybody he can, and the damaged heart he hides, who makes special tech presents for the students, smudged ink on his hands from his blueprints, is good.

And Peter hopes he can model who he is after Tony. Spider-Man can strive to be someone like Tony, because the 27 year old understands what it means to invest in his community. And Queens is his home, he’s sure Tony will take care of it once he’s gone for college. Tony is human, he bleeds, he hurts, he doesn’t crack under pressure but quakes alone.

The man who emerges from the tech lab every morning at 6am because he forgot to sleep, yeah, that’s Peter’s mentor. How’d he get himself in this spot?

He turns back to Tony, “My uncle Ben used to tell me people are ugly, unlovable, they are their failures, but then they’d constantly prove him wrong. He wasn’t a pessimist, he was the opposite. But he saw the ugliness in New York, in Queens. But then he’d see sons hugging and kissing their mothers, he’d see local students building churches from scratch, and older siblings wiping their siblings’ tears when they played outside.”

Tony quirks a brow, but listens. He really listens, and he doesn’t know if he can finish. “He talked in constant epithets with our neighbors. Their gardens, his wisdom, and about how people always came together. Always.

“Maybe that’s who Spider-Man is trying to save, trying to represent in Queens. I think it’s what people like Ben would want to help. And I don’t want to leave, it’s my little sanctuary. This is the longest I’ve been away from Queens.”

Tony playfully flicked water towards Peter, who dodged it and splashed water back. He could be petulant, too. “I hope this spider-guy is watching over you in Queens. I know your Uncle Ben is. And I know, I know, it’s cheesy as hell, but he really is. I remember my Ma used to visit me in my dreams at my worst times.

“I had no one to go to. My family was gone, and I wanted to do better. Be better. At my rock bottom, I was brought back up by my dad’s best friend. He stayed by my side since they died.. And when I found out he wanted to steal the company from me, I knew I could never let people like that taint more kids in the future in this field. In any field, really. I think I have a responsibility with this camp, and I know my mom would be proud of me. And I know your uncle will be proud, too, because I’ve got your back, too.”

The breath is knocked out of Peter, because oh fuck, this camp counselor who was unwilling to budge, had opened up and was vulnerable and was scared of being stabbed in the back but trusted him.

Tony cracks a smile, supine on his back over the water again in no time and drags the pool floaty with him after he kicks off the wall. They float over to the group, and the weight in Peter’s sternum subdues. An ache he forgot was there, learned to live with, and Tony’s words ring in his head the rest of the day. He tells May about it and never stops missing her.

Peter reached into his canvas duffle bag with the initials, ‘BFP,’ embroidered into it and found the white baseball jersey he last remembers seeing when he was twelve years old. His cabin is chilly today, so it must be cold outside. The sun hides behind the clouds so he shrugs a long sleeve shirt on, then the jersey.

They were going to play a game of baseball this morning, his muscles still aching from rock climbing and hiking the previous day. He was Spider-Man, he had a lot of endurance, but he hadn’t been exercising for a while. He missed feeling this; feeling fatigued but not from a night out as a vigilante. He and MJ climbed the rocks at least three separate times, their ropes clipped snugly to their bodies and Tony had reached the top to tie their ropes. They stupidly swung over the edges, dangling over the forest and had views of the lake. Johnny wasn’t scared of heights, but yelped every time his foot slipped and loose gravel jerked around him. Gwen swung back and forth, in a way that made Peter’s heart lurch when she kicked her feet off the rocks and threw her head back, lowering herself down.

It was an exhaustion that had a lightweight feeling to it.

He wasn’t dizzied from the adrenaline of catching a perpetrator in time, or whatever criminal of the night presented themselves in Queens.

Johnny had chased Peter, while rock climbing, and Peter felt genuine warmth for his friends. His best friends. They sent videos to Ned, Johnny and Gwen had been on a Facetime call with them the day before and declared whoever is friends with Peter, are their friends now. MJ shared her flannel, the one she wore around her waist once she noticed Peter’s calloused and cold hands when they brushed hands on the ropes. Gwen threatens to beat the shit out of Johnny if he bumps into her again, and once they reach the waterfall past the mounds of boulders they push each other in.

Tony had sat on the side, pretending that he didn’t have a camera strapped around his neck and two bundles of film gathered from the summer.

And seeing the initials on his dufflebag this morning, Peter wishes he could march into his home, what it was once before, and announce his future profession to Uncle Ben. Because he’s stuck. Ben Parker would laugh, reminding Peter he wasn't much of a scientist himself, yet they’d ponder over every possibility they could.

Ben, who smelled of cinnamon and coffee and New York, and Tony knocked on his cabin door before he could wrestle the baseball jersey on because the sight of it sent him reeling. Maybe May had accidentally packed it? Did she do this on purpose? They knew he would become homesick; he hasn’t left May’s for long. The longest he stayed away was for his DC trip in freshman year.

“Come in!” Peter calls.

“Hey, kid,” Tony opens the door, dressed in basketball shorts and a sweatshirt, with bags under his eyes that he seems to have everyday. He looks young; but he can notice the signs of smile and worry lines around his young-adult face. “You’re late. The kiddos sent me to check on you. We’re all waiting.”

“Sorry, I just needed to get dressed--”

Peter cuts himself off, breathing in the baseball jersey while he slides it over his head. And it was a smell he hadn’t smelled in years. May was more of a nostalgic and sentimental person, and held onto Ben’s objects. They’d peer through photo albums together, and Peter would silently grief sometimes, but he was back at the Mets game Ben fought to buy tickets for and took to. The fresh air, the golden sun, Ben’s oversized hat covered Peter’s forehead and eyes. Ben was in every stitch of the material. His mind retrieved whatever image of Ben it could, and Peter couldn’t breathe.

“I--” His breath wavered and betrayed him, and Tony looked at him with a concerned face.

Peter can hear his phone buzzing with texts from Ned, probably responding to his breakdown over possible college majors he sent in a daze this morning when he saw an article about comets in their solar system, composed of water, dust, ice, and carbon monoxide. And he felt like one of those comets now, launched into the air with no destination and freefalling.

The jersey was his actual size now, and Johnny yelled from outside the cabin, “Pete, hurry up or you’ll be catching the whole game!” Tony stared back at Peter in concern, maybe he could see through him. He hadn’t hidden his teen angst that much this summer, maybe Tony still remembers teen angst. Hopefully he didn’t call him out over his childish brain losing it on a Saturday morning at camp. Was it homesickness? Tony probably only dealt with kid campers being homesick.

“Sorry, shoot, I just lost track of my sentence,’ Peter says and it comes out like a question.

He didn’t expect for Tony’s face to soften; the usual distant and withdrawn appearance is replaced with a small smile and a squeeze to his shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s play ball and possibly pop one of our shoulders out of our sockets by accident again.”

Peter snorted passed the burning tears threatening to spill, wiping them across his sleeve and noticed the man take a step back towards the door. “Yeah, right, ‘us.’ That was you, old man.”

Tony ducks his head, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders and leaving a gap of space between them. He gives him a slight shove to the field, and Peter catches the ball in time before it strikes him in the face. Of course, that was MJ’s doing.

They played until Peter fell over on the floor, dust spreading in the air around him on the field and stinging his eyes. He definitely hurt his shoulder.

Tony had half the mind to chortle at him once he sat Peter up, already sending Gwen to grab an ice pack and the first aid kit. He couldn’t help it; he’s clumsy. His spider senses are quiet here, only arising once this entire summer: when Tony followed him, Johnny, Gwen, and MJ down the rocks and found Tony huddled on a narrow precipice clutching his chest. He had a distant look in his eyes; Peter thought he had recognized that look on himself before. He was out of breath and his face was pale. Gwen chimed in from behind, “Are we still canoeing later today? Or is today archery?”

And that was smart. Tony schooled his face, and he must have tons of practice if it came so easily. He wouldn’t have guessed Tony was working himself out of a panic attack if it weren’t for the paleness of his face, but Gwen’s questions were good. They were about fifty feet off the ground, and he had almost slipped. At least, that’s what he heard.

The quietness of his spider senses didn’t scare him. It should have, but it didn’t. Maybe it would soon enough. Johnny sits down on the other side of him, asking Peter to squeeze his hand if he needs to.

“Ah, shit, I promise it’s not that bad,” Peter says, already heading towards the nearest wall to reset his shoulder himself. He’s done this once before, thinks; once, there was an apartment building fire and he pulled out dozens of people, smoke fumes messing with his vision and chest. He had to reset his shoulder before pulling out a teeanger, grunting and pushing his arm against a nearby wall with the fire on his heels.

“Hey, kid,” Tony asserts, holding his hands up. “Can I? It hurts more if you do it. I can promise you that.”

Maybe it was because of being emotional over Ben’s baseball jersey, or missing May’s hugs and Ned’s hugs, meeting him by his locker every morning and how much he’ll miss them all for college that is a year away, was just stupid. And stupid over being upset over having to leave the nerdy stem camp and leave Tony behind.

It wasn’t fair for him to be attached. He was like a mentor, an older brother, just from the past month. It wasn’t fair for him to ask for advice constantly, but has a feeling this man was more than a camp counselor to their group. For fuck’s sake, he shed a tear in front of him and the man let him.

Peter nods to his answer, already ducking his head and inhaling a deep breath. “Good, yeah, deep breath. You’ve got the right idea,” Tony says, grabbing his shoulder. There’s a slight pop when Tony pushes, and Peter bites back his pain and tastes blood.

Tony holds onto his arm, and nods towards the rest of the concerned group, searching for any indication that Peter is okay. Gwen wipes a tear from his cheek, and he wonders what he would’ve done this summer without them. And what he’ll do if he doesn’t see them again. Maybe they’ll keep in touch, or apply to the same colleges. He didn’t want to lose them and the safety he felt with them.

“Okay, Peter, I told you for the millionth time, you connect the black wire to the circuit to get R2’s voice commands working,” Ned ordered the phone, and had given him, Johnny, MJ, and Gwen directions to the abandoned warehouse.

It was kind of Tony’s fault for demanding a nap and leaving the four of them with another camp counselor that wasn’t as competent as he was.Well, to call Tony competent is a bit of a stretch, his methods are nonchalant. Hence, MJ is in the corner reading them murder stories from the 1930s and remindingthem the ghosts still linger in the woods of upstate New York, right where they are.

“Yeah, yeah, MJ, the eighty-year old ghost is here to haunt us,” Peter mutters, ignoring Ned’s directions because he is totally wrong. “Ned, no. Absolutely not. What is this, LEGOs sensors?”

“Oh, my God, if you’re going to tell a joke then make it funny,” Johnny groans, “It looks like a UFO.”

“Fuck you, Johnny!” Peter yells, tossing a wrench and then deciding he shouldn’t have done that, and hoped Johnny ducks his head in time, “It’s not UFOs! It’s R2D2, you stupid piece of shit!”

Maybe Peter was a little unhinged today.

“Hey, ghost, knock this bookshelf down if you’re mad at us,” Gwen declares, drawing out her voice like she’s reading a ghost story to kids, “Or hold a candlestick in the middle of the room.”

The warehouse is small, it’s dark, and they use the sunlight as their lightsource. It was probably really stupid of them to break in, but this is it. Plan ghoul. And it’s the second to last night of camp, and they had vlogged the entire venture to the warehouse.

MJ had kept all the equipment they gathered from the summer. Either Tony was completely oblivious, unaware of his surroundings at all times and chose to ignore the lack of passion in their projects all summer for this, R2D2 and Johnny’s soccer laying robot, and Gwen’s killer robot obstacle course, or Tony didn’t care.

He was a billionaire. MJ still yells at the older man over his salary, but yesterday, he asked MJ to consult as an intern for his company and have input on the charity work the company participates in. And it was perfect for her. This was how they were wrapping their summer up; some of them receiving internships, letters of recommendation, and Peter stayed the same with the sick feeling in his stomach that he’d ruin his own life, or never be as far ahead as his peers.

“Peter, I have the same kit in front of me. I gave you these blueprints!” Ned yells into his ear, and Peter drops his phone and breaks off R2D2’s arm. Gwen laughs, pointing out how much uglier the robot is.

“Can your ugly R2 even fit in my obstacle course?” Gwen asks, playing robot soccer with Johnny. Their controllers are loud, they beep too much, and the obstacle course is ugly. It’s really not, but he’d never admit to his new best friend how beautiful the course is and he wishes he could shrink down and play in it.

“Ghouls!” MJ yells, fiddling with her tiny robotic sensor that he’s pretty sure is a tracker she’s been planting. He makes a mental note to check his things later before leaving camp.”My bot says Johnny is in first place!”

Their robots race across the obstacle course of the filthy warehouse, the sun’s going down so they placed flashlights around the room and the golden hour sun basked the room as it set on the horizon. The room was full of laughter, MJ’s ghost monitor with activity levels he can’t understand, and Gwen runs into their pseudo soccer field to knock R2D2 over.

They spent the rest of the night planning for college, planning to keep in touch, and devising another plan to take over Stark Industries once they all get jobs there. Peter knew he needed to go to college. He knew he couldn’t risk his family and friends and his identity.

They hear a crash outside, all of their movements hault. Peter doesn’t dare breathe, they all let their hearts pound in their chests. The sun had set by now, and Peter discreetly used his senses to listen and smell what, or who was outside. Gwen shows Peter her arm, the goosebumps set all over and she grabs the flashlight to use as a weapon. He’s impressed with her pose, but oh, shit, is it another camp goer? Did MJ fucking summon a ghoul?

Johnny shushes them, o-fucking-kay Johnny, shush the quiet group. Obnoxious. Peter blows out MJ’s candle, while she gets out her Poltergeist machine, where did she even keep it?

“Hide!”

The kids scatter, and MJ rambles through her theories of clues she’s found. “Is that a fucking bat?”

“Is it fucking Batman?”

“Peter, shut the fuck up!” Gwen chastises, elbowing him while they search for refuge behind the nearby bookcase full of dust and spiders. The shadow from outside looms, and the room is too dark to make out whoever kicks the door open.

The door was kicked open, and the group screamed. His brain clicked, his senses didn't go off.

It was fucking Tony.

Tony fucking Stark, with a casing of gold metal under his arm. And it’s his gold and red robot.

Let’s just say Tony dragged the four of them back to the camp after destroying their robots in robot-killer-soccer.

Tony does not know the impact he had on each teenagers’ lives. Maybe it was just Peter, and he was being sappy, but it was the last day of camp and the sun was setting and he was tired of the pinewood. It’d take him at least a week to get the smell of earth out of his clothes.

MJ shows affection, she hugs Gwen before they depart. Oh, God. They’re really gonna miss camp.

The summer is ending, case closed. Everybody’s packing their bags, and Peter’s pretty sure he will never recover from his scare during plan ghoul. Who would’ve known Tony had the same idea as them.

His friends, who wear his hats, who steal his food, and who wipe his tears are leaving. He has MJ. He has Ned.

Peter had set his flannel on fire but they put him out. It was really stupid.

Peter talked to Tony about Ben one night. He used metaphors, but he knew about Tony’s parents' loss in a car crash.

“Kid,” Tony says, pulling his attention away from the camp departures. Peter practically hopped on his toes of anticipation, walking closer to the older man. A father-figure? No. Older-brother figure? Maybe. Yes.

“You better work hard on your college applications, kid, because I’m going to need a student researching with me at MIT,” Tony smiles, kindly, and Peter blinked.

It still hadn’t set how much Tony believes in him. He knows he could be saying this out of kindness, out of pity maybe, but he had been the one to pull him from his reeling thoughts all summer long.

Tony had welcomed him in the threshold, their own threshold they built together, when Peter needed someone there, to take him in, and he continued to stay in once school began. This had been the place Peter spent half the summer in, did summer homework at the poolside with Tony’s help, he accidentally left candy wrappers in Tony’s cabin and left even more ants, and grew comfortable.

“Pete, when you go off to college, I’m not kidding, don’t forget to call,” Tony says, because Peter probably looks too intense right now and doesn’t know how to unweb himself from his comfortable cocoon of a summer, and he admires his camp counselor so much.

“I’m scared,” Peter breathes, and shit, his eyes well up. And Tony is there, the smell of coffee and some sweat, pulling him into a hug and he closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

“Oh, kid,” Tony says, “Remember all the shitty advice I gave you. Do exactly what I wouldn’t do. And remind Aunt May I’m just a camp counselor and to stop yelling at me on the phone.”

Peter chuckles, because, oh God, knowing Tony and May, they’ll both team up to watch his back.

“I don’t want to let go of everyone here. I don’t want self pity, or anything, but like, this is the first time I felt like I’ve lived, as cheesy as that sounds,” Peter admits, wiping his sleeve.

Gwen is the first one to tackle the both of them, then Johnny, and Tony curses to the air. “Why did I become a camp counselor. The little boogers won’t leave me alone.”

“Stop lying, you know you came here for Pepper,” MJ snorts, “Old man.”

At the end of the summer, Peter is a teenage vigilante with a secret identity, but chose to relish in being a teeanger this summer. He was his grief or loss or anxiety, he was Peter Parker. And he wouldn’t ever just be Peter again. He thinks about what he wants, and he knows he wants them in his life. And Tony had given him this threshold, one that felt like a home away from home, and a family away from his small one.

#my fics #fics #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #kinda #im pretty sure they gave me the wrong @ but 😭

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takerfoxx · 4 years

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She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Season 5, Episode 13, “The Heart, Part 2,” First Impressions!

I am going to miss this show, I really am.

Well. Here we are. The final episode of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, an almost three decade later reboot of a show I’ve never seen, which in turn was a spin-off of a show I’ve never seen, and yet somehow became one of my favorite shows of all time.

Now, when this show was first announced, there was a lot of pushback. You had the usual murder’s row of so-called anti-SJW troglodytes who like to swoop in on anything that looks like it wasn’t designed with straight white guys in mind (and speaking as a straight white guy, these guys are just. So. Tiresome!), as well as fans of the original who didn’t care for the new character designs, direction, or lack of connection to Masters of the Universe. Which, okay, I get it, and to be honest the little to no He-Man business still strikes me as weird, but come on guys. It’s been almost thirty years! Times have changed, audiences have changed, and the targeted audience of kids’ shows today are very different from what they were in the eighties.

But despite all that nontroversy, She-Ra rose above and established itself as a genuinely great show in it’s own right, becoming both a critical and commercial success. Like, okay, it wasn’t Avatar the Last Airbender or Steven Universe-level big, but it definitely established a real niche for itself and gathered a sizeable fanbase. The excellent writing, incredibly on-point comedic timing, superb voice acting, casual diversity, oodles of complex and likeable characters, tight-plotting, mature handling of difficult topics, and immaculate direction made it out to be an amazing children’s show from a decade that has had no shortage of amazing children’s shows, and expectations were insane for the final season, with the climatic final episode being under incredible scrutiny.

I mean, it makes sense, right? For once, given the huge LGBTQ fanbase the show has, and given how many times the LGBTQ community have been burned at the last second, there is little wonder that they would be wary. And while some shows like the aforementioned Avatar the Last Airbender and Breaking Bad have remained of high quality throughout its run and delivered with an excellent finale (or so I’m told, still working my way through), others like Voltron Legendary Defender and Game of Thrones have become notorious for shitting the bed in their latter halves, and other shows like Steven Universe have had more mixed receptions. So how would She-Ra turn out? Would it end up flopping at the end, or would it stick the landing and enter the pantheon of shows that actually completed their entire story arcs and are fondly remembered?

Yes. Yes, it did.

The final season was spectacular. It started off all right, but from the third episode on immediately turned into pure brilliance, one that seemed to constantly top itself with wonderful character development, emotional payoffs, scenes of gripping tension, ballsy writing, and fantastic action. And any finale that makes me cry gets a thumb’s up from me.

Now, obviously I have a lot of gushing to do, but before it do, I should point out that I don’t think the finale is 100% perfect. There are things that kind of bugged me, and a few others that I felt really could have done better. Of course none of them were deal breakers, only little flaws that I feel could have stood to either have had more focus or different execution. And I might as well get the negative things out of the way.

And for me, the biggest problem is Shadow Weaver’s exit.

And to be clear, I don’t have a problem whatsoever with Shadow Weaver dying. I wanted her to die. I’m glad she died. Nor do I have a problem for her dying to save the two girls she’s spent two decades abusing. And nor do I have a problem with them mourning her death, given that they never actually forgave her, and it only made sense that they would have complicated feelings toward her. All of those are fine!

What I have a problem with is how that moment was framed and directed. It was framed like a heroic sacrifice, from the dramatic final stand moment to Shadow Weaver being suddenly acting selfless to her telling Catra how proud she was of her and finally showing her face.

Everything about that moment was exceptionally well done, yes, but the problem I have is that it doesn’t feel earned. That’s the sort of end you give a morally complex character that has been struggling with their negative qualities throughout a long character arc. And I’m sorry, but while Shadow Weaver is a pretty great and complicated character in her own right, she as never even tried to redeem herself until that moment. With Catra, we still saw how much her actions haunted and tormented her, even when she was at her worst. We saw her wrestling with her ingrained toxic behaviors and her conscience, so that when she finally makes the decision to do something right and, as far as she knew, sacrificed her life to rescue Glimmer and save Adora, it felt all kinds of earned!

But even after defecting to the Princess Rebellion, Shadow Weaver showed no signs of wanting to change. She showed no signs of regretting her mistreatment of Adora and Catra, and still continued to demean, undercut, and gaslight them whenever she was with them, and whenever she was called out on it, she would just brush it off and/or roll her eyes. Even when she was “helping” and “praising” her golden child Adora, she still continued to try to twist her head and mold her into what she wanted Adora would be. And her treatment of Catra didn’t change at all.

So I’m sorry, but that moment just didn’t work for me. Yes, I know Noelle has said that her sacrifice was still selfishly motivated, and I believe it, but it still felt off, especially with her finally telling Catra that she was proud of her, when she was AGAIN demeaning her earlier in that same episode! It carries the unintentional implication that Catra needed Shadow Weaver’s validation in order to move on. I honestly would have preferred that she never got it but realized that she didn’t need it to begin with. And that “You’re welcome,” which is incredibly condescending, was framed as a badass final line. There’s a disconnect between her character arc and its payoff that feels off. I wish something had been handled differently.

The second issue I had was just how rushed a lot of the character payoffs felt at the end. Yes, I know Noelle said that she doesn’t want to do an epilogue and would like us to decide for ourselves how things turned out, and that’s fine. But one day later wouldn’t hurt. Wrong Hordak was shown a couple times cowering next to Swift Wind in group shots and then straight up disappeared. And given their complicated history together, Scorpia and Catra deserved so much more than just a hi and a hug. Chipped Micah was given more time to harm and demean Glimmer than real Micah was given to love her. The Entrapdak thing got more focus and despite what I said about Hordak needing to either die or lose his memories, I’m not too upset that he didn’t do either, but instead simply broke free and got a happy ending, and Mermista’s line of, “So, are we like okay with this?” was great, but it feels like there should have been more. And I know they never had their own character arc and did all they needed to do last season, but if you’re going to bring Double Trouble back, then give us more than just one episode and a two-second cameo at the end.

Like, just give us some kind of montage of the rebuilding stage. Show us Wrong Hordak leading his scared and confused brothers in becoming individuals. Have him meet the real Hordak and show us how they would respond to one another! Give us a proper Catra/Scorpia reconciliation! Do more with Double Trouble or don’t bring them back at all. Hell, pair them up with Wrong Hordak partway through the season so they could bounce off each other, because that would be comedy GOLD! And while I’m glad that we at least got to see Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio (and they adopted Imp!), it sucks that that was their only scene this season, and it didn’t even have any lines. I’m not so upset about Huntara, because I know her voice actress is hard to get ahold of, so I’m okay with her just getting a wordless scene, but the others kind of bug.

I understand that time was a factor, but surely something could have been done.

All right, now I got all those out my system, let the gushing BEGIN!

Catra and Adora. Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man oh man. Now, I know I said that Catra needs to leave in order for her redemption to work, but even though she didn’t and got pretty much forgiven and accepted by everyone she hurt, I’m still very happy with how her redemption arc went down. Because she made the switch early in the season, showed genuine regret for what she did, made real attempts to apologize to those she hurt without expecting forgiveness, was shown wrestling with her bad traits, sometimes falling back into them, sometimes almost succumbing to bad habits, but was also shown finally making the right decisions and rising above them. She was the best-written character in the show with the most complex character arc, and they fucking NAILED the landing.

And that is because of her love of Adora.

Catra and Adora, two white-hot messes of weirdly compatible issues. Catra is so afraid of abandonment that she instinctively pushes those she loves away or runs away herself rather than let them leave her, and Adora only knows how to place others before herself, to be selfless to a fault, take all the blame for everything, and not let herself be the one who’s loved and protected. The two needed each other in order to overcome their issues, to put aside the damage Shadow Weaver instilled in them.

And they finally did.

Catra came back for Adora. She stayed by her side, refused to leave, and refused to let Adora give up. And Adora rose above her feelings of failure, allowed herself to be loved by another, and became whole.

And then we got it. We finally got the moment we’ve all been waiting for, all been praying for, all wanted so goddamned desperately.

We got the Big Goddamn Kiss.

The love each other. They’re lovers. They’re soulmates. After everything, how could they be anything else? It’s pure, 100% romantic love, a full, no ambiguity friends-to-rivals-to-enemies-to-allies-to-lovers storyline. Not subtext, no reading between the lines. It’s real, it’s canon, it’s between the two main leaders, and it happened right on the screen and saved the goddamned world.

Catra finally reached out to someone and showed love, and Adora finally allowed herself to be brought up and loved. And it’s that love that overcame Horde Prime’s virus and destroyed the Heart of Etheria. It’s that love that freed the magic, released She-Ra, and allowed her to vanquish Horde Prime once and for all.

And hey, two girls kissing, turning into a rainbow, and annihilating the influence of a controlling religious cult and the symbol of exploitative colonizers? Hmmm, subtle!

I love it.

Look, after everyone talking about how much the finale made them cry, and after already sobbing my eyes out when Angella sacrificed herself in season 3, I was worried that I wouldn’t feel the same, that everything had already been spoiled for me so it wouldn’t have the same emotional impact. Hell, the kiss itself had been spoiled for me! So if I knew it was coming, how could it affect me like it did others.

I was wrong. I was so wrong. When Catra screamed at Adora that she loved her and always had, the tears came gushing out. And when they finally did kiss, it made me happier than I had been for a long time. It was such a beautiful moment, and it was so wonderful to see all the magic unleashed, turning Etheria back into the paradise it was meant to be, and the Spire into a giant floating sprig of broccoli!

The Horde was finally defeat, and Horde Prime ripped out of his Wi-Fi network and destroyed once and for all. He will not rise again. His corrupted vision of purity is finally eradicated once and for all, and the galaxy is free again.

It was wonderful.

Other moments I want to highlight! Beginning with Bow!

Oh Bow. I haven’t talked as much about you as I did at the start of the show, but you really are wonderful. After similar unpowered male goofball sidekicks like Xander and Sokka being big balls of toxic masculinity and ingrained misogyny caused by insecurities that they had to overcome, we get an unpowered male goofball sidekick who is a shining example of positive masculinity, someone who knows who he is and is comfortable with it, someone who more than holds his own in battle, constantly makes himself useful, and stands proud with his superpowered friends. And even then, he still feels like real person, one that gets frustrated, feels down, and gets angry at both himself and his friends, but still continues on, because he’s a soldier and that’s what he does.

So it was wonderful that he got the Rise Up and Fight speech, because he deserved it, and oh it felt so good, seeing all those instances of people throwing off Horde Prime’s control while his words were playing. Bow really is wonderful.

And Hordak! Look, I know what I said about wanting more from his ending, but my God, that moment when he threw off Horde Prime’s control and shot Horde Prime in the back to save Entrapta and reclaim his identity was so! Fucking! Cool! I was cheering in my car when that happened! So good!

And hey, give it up for Glimmer for not listening to Chipped Micah and refusing to back down. She overcame a brilliant sorcerer wielding dark magic through the power of sheer stubbornness! Chef kiss, beautiful!

Though I really do think she got most of her stubbornness from her mom. Miss yah, Angie.

And Scorpia and Perfuma? Why, I think I like that quite a lot! Why yes, give Perfuma a big, strong girlfriend with a huge heart! Give Scorpia tiny, cute hippie girlfriend who will take no shit from anyone. Yes, I like this very much.

So...yeah. This really was wonderful. The world is saved, the Best Friend Squad is about to go on a space romp, and it feels good. And from there? Well, Noelle told us to come with that ourselves, so yeah, I’m sure Etheria was able to fully rebuild following the Horde’s destruction. I’m sure that Wrong Hordak became some kind of benevolent leader to his lost brothers and helped them come to grips with their individuality. I’m sure that Scorpia rebuilt the Scorpion Kingdom from the Fright Zone’s ruins and made it a haven to the lost Horde soldiers. I’m sure that Sea Hawk and Mermista burned down a boat together. I’m sure that Glimmer and Bow were married and became king and queen of Brightmoon and had a long and loving reign with lots of babies. I’m sure that Entrapta was given all the discarded Horde and First Ones tech to crack and find good uses for and remained as happy as a clam, especially considering the Hordak harem she’s built. I’m sure that Adora and Catra continued to build each other up, helped and supported one another to keep themselves from falling into bad habits, and Melog was always there as a faithful therapy magi-cat. I’m sure that Perfuma helped Catra along with meditative exercises and Catra never had the heart to tell her that she was just napping. I’m sure that Frosta grew up to be a strong and powerful queen who also founded her own iceball league. I’m sure that everyone started going to Netossa and Spinnerella’s game nights and just decided to put up with Netossa when she got like...that, because at that point she deserved to. I’m sure that Swift Wind finally did emancipate the horses and taught them to form their own weird society, but still made time to visit Madam Razz. I’m sure that Kyle and Rogelio became proud adopted fathers of little Imp, and one day while chilling at the local pub, Lonnie caught the eye of a big, strong purple woman.

I’m sure they were all very happy from there on.

I am going to miss this show. It was a wonderful experience, one that’s given me so much. It made me laugh,it made me cry, it made me cheer, it made me shiver, it made me bite my nails, but most of all, it made me happy.

So thank you Noelle and Molly. Thank you Chuck and Mary Elizabeth. Thank you Sunna and Aaliyah. Thank you Aimee, AJ, Karen, Marcus, Keston, Reshma, Lorraine, Christine, Adam, Genesis, Vella, Merit, Gina, and Jordan. Thank you to all the writers, animators, and directors. Thank you to everyone who worked on this show. Thank you all.

And a very special thank you to @smxmuffinpeddling for filling my dash with She-Ra content, which convinced me to check this show out in the first place!

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