#‘death doesn’t happen to you it hurts the people around you. you think [the bruises on stiles face] were meant to hurt me?’

[skywitchmaja]

this stiles and lydia conversation aaaghrbrghr now THIS is good television writing!!!!!!!

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[keldabekush]

do you have any favorite fic recs that are fox/coruscant guard centered? there are a couple i've found that are really good but a lot of the fox tag is him in a more minor role with the focus on like cody or rex or jedi etc

Yeah i have a few! Here are some that i keep rereading - I'm putting them under the cut!

Politicians In My Eyes by jaigeye

Fox looks down at his armor, awash with blood. There are no identifying marks on him anymore. He's as red as Coruscant

CHTHONIC by catboydogma

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

dead dog (bye-bye baby blue) by batchmates

The way it happens is simple: at some point during your service in the Guard, you’ll lose time. The thing wiping the Guards’ memories gets sloppy and Fox remembers the order not to let Fives leave the surface alive. It changes everything and nothing at all.

Life During Wartime by chermit

Commander Fox has a lot on his plate: managing his Corries, filling out piles of forms, dealing with obnoxious Senators, and not thinking about the way he keeps waking up covered in other people's blood. All that considered, he really doesn't have time to deal with being investigated by the Captain of the 501st and the Head of the Jedi Order for two separate murders he (probably) didn't (want to) commit. But Fox is a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, so when does he ever get what he wants?

Commander Fox's Guide to Touring Coruscant by kakashikrazy256

The painkiller he had been giving just half an hour prior is still working fine, leaving him relatively...alright. Nothing hurts particularly bad, but there’s a fuzziness layered over everything, making it hard to think too hard on anything beyond the first thoughts running through his head. Go inside. Find the rest. Sit down. Drink. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t get caught. And...and just be there to properly enjoy the company of his brothers. Don’t forget these memories. / Fox gets injured but decides to keep it secret for the sake of his batchmates. For the prompt 'is that a bloodstain?!'

their days are darker by always_a_slut_for_hc

After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done. He is very, very wrong.

The Last Reason by meerlicht

Cody has a scar now, and it’s the only thing that differentiates him from Fox appearance-wise. For one, they both have the same circles under their eyes. Fox assumes that’s what comes with being a Commander. Their hands are the same, too, damaged and bruised at all times. But the biggest difference Fox sees when he looks at Cody isn’t the scar. It’s the rage. Cody doesn’t wear that same rage. Fox’s hands ache with the need to punch something.   Or: Fox dealing with Senators, little brothers, the terrifying ordeal of asking for help and a menace called Quinlan Vos.

[harmeu]

Tw: Blood Description, Mention of dissection

A Jujutsu Kaisen Trio Seeing their S/O Hurt

(GN!Reader)

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo is one to tease and make fun of others for the fun of it. Not in an overly aggressive way just teasing friends most of the time. He adores his friends but what he also adores is his partner. Gojo is known for his strength so the people who got you all bruised up clearly weren't thinking. You just beat up one of the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers' partners? You must have a death wish.

As soon as you come back from a fight you hug your body clearly feeling helpless as the blood on you slid down your parts. You wanted to keep it a secret so you tried to cover up but to your disadvantage Gojo slams through the doors, his face going dull. 

“Who did this to you?” He says with a quiet tone, fists clenched. Moments pass and you got worried. Gojo usually was one to be hyper and all smiley. 

“Oh. Some people just dragged me somewhere and beat me. That's all.” You say murmuring averting your eyes. Gojos eyes softened.

Why were you acting as if this wasn’t a big deal?

He was in the fit of rage dusted with concern. 

“I’ll find those guys.” He says biting his bottom lip enough to draw blood. Before you can reply he’s vanished into thin air. Your heart beat increased as you felt happy about how worried he was for you. 

The men who harassed you were never to be seen again.

Geto Suguru:

Unlike Gojo, Geto is more the calm and collected type. Sure he’s one to get mad at certain times but he is mature about it unlike his best friend. Just because he’s kind doesn’t mean he has no enemies. He is mischievous. He loves you dearly and would do anything for you.

Even if it meant harming himself. 

You sigh and touch the scars on your arms bleeding heavily from the fight earlier. A wince of pain slipped out your lips as you tried to keep a neutral expression before you met up with your sweet Geto. A jacket slipped on to cover the wounds and you walked up to him. Geto immediately realized something was wrong. You were fidgeting, averting your eyes, and expressions of pain slipped up on your face at times.

“What's wrong darling?” Geto said, grasping your hands worriedly. He looked around making sure everything was okay. 

“Nothing.” You lied and pulled your sleeves lower so he couldn't see the marks. Though Geto caught on and grabbed your wrist softly and pulled the sleeve up to just be exposed to those severe scars. His face paled and eyes dilated. You were about to apologize till he began patching you up. A warm fuzzy feeling erupted in your body as you felt him do that.

“I’ll kill them after.” Geto said, bandaging you gently.

 PEOPLE GONE MISSING - CALL 911 IF YOU SEE THEM 

Shoko Ieiri:

Shoko is a laid back individual to be exact. She's more of a spectator than the person playing. Her reputation as a doctor exceeds her. Many people are scared of what kind of doctor she is because the last rumor went that she dissected dead bodies. Well that wasn’t a rumor.

Some people fear her but not enough because it seems someone has touched her beloved.

Blood oozed down your legs as you shivered in pain. It hurt like hell but you had to suck it up since you were meeting Shoko a little later for a hangout. As you left the alley where the fight happened a bag dropped that you heard and you turned your head.

It was Shoko. Great. You gave a sheepish smile as she stared with her eyes widened and mouth dropped. 

“What happened to you?” She said holding your face caressing it as softly as possible.

“Just a fight. It ain’t that bad.” You shrugged, lying and turning your gaze so you don't feel that wash of guilt. That failed since you still felt it. Shoko yanks your ear making you yelp.

“Hey! What's this about?” You say flustered.

“I'm patching you up. Then I’m going to find those idiots who did this to you.”

+3 Bodies Achievement for Shoko!

[fumifooms]

I think you made me start shipping Marchil

Your posts got me thinking about their dynamic then I wrote a fic that was supposed to be platonic but midway through I realized it could actually be interpreted as romantic too and now I'm just sad about how little time they'll have together

First of all, you have a lovely icon, second, I’m so honored… I finally read Not a bad way to go and it was soo so good like. My god!!! Pre-canon is underused and you did so many interesting things with it.

It sounded like a cruel joke, that the one who needed her concern the most was also the one least interested in it.

^^^ go read it go read it

Chilchuck was drunk enough that he needed to hold onto the walls not to fall, but apparently still sober enough to remember emotional vulnerability was his worst enemy, as he made sure to avert her eyes and said: “Namari made me come talk to you ” to make it clear he wasn't being nice voluntarily.

Yeah.

“Of course I'm scared of dying.” He scoffed. Did she really think so little of him? “But if I could choose, I would want to die doing something I love, like drinking. Or maybe fucking,”

Maybe you wish you didn’t know but my new favorite HC because of this is that Chil dies yes prematurely not of liver failure though but during coitus. Especially if marchil, the thought of him busting a nut and his heart giving out makes me laugh so hard. My god. Lmao. Oh god. Lmfao. Worst day of her life

Marcille knew Chilchuck wasn't a kid, but she often struggled to take him seriously as an adult because he was just so adorable and small. In this moment, however, she saw them exactly for what they were, even if it was just a glimpse. A sheltered, naive little girl trying to tell a tired, much more experienced man how to live the rest of his life.

Standing ovation

She tried to find an explanation to give him, but she couldn't even find one for herself. Why would she miss him? He was just Chilchuck, her coworker, Chilchuck who was cold, aloof, sometimes crass, evasive, and even outright mean. He who was level headed, reliable, trustworthy, perceptive and clever. He who had the least time left, even in a best case scenario. “I guess that despite your best efforts, there's still a lot to like about you.”

This fic goes so hard, standing ovation pt 2

“I just think it's better if we don't get too close. Don't you agree?” “I… maybe” she said, uncertain as he didn't know how to feel about that. Caring about people would only hurt her in the wrong run, she knew that, but unfortunately she couldn't help it.

I looove how they can be read to be similar on this aspect. My hand clenching around my phone as I rear up to rant about Marcille and the way she does keep people at an arm’s length subconsciously again my god my goood. Obsessed with this obsessed with this, underused for marchil. Terrified of loss through death vs rejection duo I love youuu

Brilliant ending I’m in shambles. I’m not gonna spoil it

You get marchil so much you truly do. The way they mesh, the way their views on mortality clash and both soothe & bruise… He doesn’t have much time left even in best case scenario (which Mr I won’t eat well I’ll drink and smoke a lot I’ll stress all day every day is determined to not make happen) which makes it all the more meaningful for Marcille’s arc when she learns from him to finally enjoy the present moments… It’ll only be a fraction of her life, but to him he’s giving her the rest of his life. What are some decades of love worth? Worth it, surely, if nothing else

[0asterous0]

Prologue, Finale part.

"Grian runs in to find the girl and get her (and hopefully her mother) to safety." - Previous chapter.

TW// blood, gore, death.

He ran towards the explosion. He wanted so much to just stay away from all of this, but that’s a kid, either completely alone or with her mother wounded and unconscious. What kind of person would he be, if he just left in a situation like this? He didn’t care about people around who were running in the opposite direction, away from the trouble; if they could sleep after this, without a pang of guilt consuming them whole, Grian definitely couldn’t.

The second he turned the corner, he saw the entrance to the STARR labs, enveloped in flames. Come on, who attacks a blood donor lab? Some of these villains are just complete assholes, aren’t they? He briefly sees a little girl through the broken floor-to-ceiling windows, her leg stuck under the rubble, and runs towards her, quickly jumping in through the door that flew away from the hinges the moment the explosion struck. 

“I’m here,” He says quietly, the moment he goes down on his knees in front of the poor girl, trying to take off the rubble. “It’s okay, I’m gonna get you out, okay?”

The little girl looks up at her, eyes full of tears, but still nods, trying to contain her sobbing. Gods, she was so brave right now, Grian hopes her parents are proud. The last rock is lifted off her feet, and he can see the damage done to her legs, one bruised and one dripping down blood, bend in a different direction. The second the girl sees it, she bursts into tears even worse than before. Right, it’s hard sometimes to comprehend the true damage if you can’t see it, but now that she has, she’s probably terrified.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, we can take care of it!” Grian says, trying to sound as calm and collected as he can. The last thing he wants is to scare her even more. Looking down at her leg again, he could tell that it was broken, so he needed to be as gentle as possible to avoid making it even more painful for her. 

“Is your mom around here?” He asks, quickly looking around the room. There was smoke and rubble everywhere, but not a single other person. Maybe she was let inside, they were probably here for a blood test after all. But thinking about it, it was even worse because that meant she was closer to the explosion than he thought. The little girl refused to answer. No– it’s more that she couldn’t answer through all the sobbing.

“No!” Grian hears the scream of a man before he runs out of the door at the end of the room. His lab coat was fully ruined and there was blood on his temple, slowly running down his face. He looked terrified running away from something. Grian had a second to grab the girl and hide with her behind the giant rubble, before a sudden yellow light covered the whole room, immediately dying down. The man screams again, and a second later, Grian can hear a loud crash followed by a choking sound.

“P-pl..ea..se” the man struggles to talk. 

Grian is scared. Something in him is telling him to look behind and see what is happening, but his whole body is shaking. He has a hand covering the poor girl's mouth to keep her quiet. He doesn’t know who is behind this attack, and unfortunately, there are a lot of villains who are not afraid to hurt a child.

“Where are they?” He hears a new voice, hidden by a voice changer. Surprisingly, he sounds very calm, but Grian can hear the venom in it, his anger and annoyance fully on display. There’s another thud, the man falling to the ground. From what he can imagine, he was probably held by his collar to the wall and now was dropped to the floor. 

“I.. I d-don’t know.. What.. What th-they?” 

“Stop playing dumb!” The previous calmness was nowhere to be heard now, the new voice rising in anger, turning into a shout. It sends shivers down Grian’s spine. “The suitcases! They delivered three this morning! They should be here, but they aren’t, so where are they?!”

Grian lets out a shaky breath and finally, risking everything, looks out from the hiding spot to see what is happening. As he guessed, the man working in the lab was now lying on the ground, almost in tears looking up at the other man while trembling. 

Grian knows this villain. Standing above the scientist was a man with heavy muscles, mostly hidden by the black cloak running down his shoulders. The black and yellow striped costume’s interior was giving a slight glow, alongside the gas mask on his face, while there was running electricity in his hair to fully cover it in a yellow light. The sparks were flying all around the room, while his right leg was pushing down on the poor man's chest as hard as possible, causing him to cough in pain.  

Static.

Okay, Grian, what do you know about Static? His mind supplies. 

Static first appeared around five years ago; first as a vigilante, helping Boatem’s citizens with everything he could, from cleaning up the parks to stopping the street robberies even though he never worked under the law, which caused him to be the victim of police hunts for years. That was just over two years ago when his official status was changed to a villain after an attack on a public place.

Static is known for attacking mostly large companies. He does leave a lot of casualties behind, but it’s rarely lethal and never a direct attack on civilians, mostly because of his very destructive enchantment. That means that if he sees them, there is a big chance he will just let them go. 

“I d-don’t.. I-I-I c-can’t,” The man is choking on his tears, looking up at Static petrified. Even Grian understood that lying in a situation like this didn’t make any sense. When dealing with villains, you always need to remember that most of them don’t show any mercy. The lightning around Static disappeared for a second. He slowly lifted his leg off the man's chest, immediately hitting him once again harder, but this time, he can hear the man screaming, surrounded by the yellow sparks. Fuck, did he just electrocute the man? It lasted for a few seconds, Grian desperately holding the poor girl in his hands who was shaking in horror, listening to the agonizing screams. It cut off as quickly as it started.

“Last chance,” Static’s voice sounded flat again, no emotion peeking through the gas mask covering his mouth. If the smell of this place was bad before, with all the rubble and fire around, now it smelled like a lump of overcooked meat– it made him shiver. “I can find out on my own, you know, you can’t hide them from me– so speak before I hurt you even more.” As if on cue, his electricity sparked once again, crackling across the room and missing Grian’s face by an inch. He jumped, his face hiding behind the rubble once again to calm down. That was very close. 

“It’s in Falsewell! P-please, It’s in F-Falsewell!” The man screamed, and Grian shifted, his shoulders slightly dropping. That’s… That’s good, now that Static has information he will leave; that is what he’s after most of the time, right?

“Which lab?” 

“B-18! I-It’s… the one in front of-of the historical museum,” Grian slowly relocated back to the corner, looking out towards the two men. He could see how the poor guy was still shaking, lying on the ground, now with his eyes closed. Static’s boot was still on his chest, and Grian could see that he was not planning to move anytime soon.

“What’s your badge number?”

“HC-24, I-I don’t know anything, I p-promise!”

“Dust?” Static asked, turning his head slightly left. A few inches and he would have looked directly at Grian, but that was definitely not the plan, he still didn’t know they were there, no, he was talking to someone. He could see from here a little device in his ear, the control over his powers was terrifyingly good if it didn’t get destroyed in this lightning show, so close to his hair which was constantly buzzing in yellow light. But that gave Grian another question. Who’s Dust? He never heard that name before, someone new around here? And Static always worked alone before, but suddenly he has a partner? That was… a problem. What was in those suitcases that they were after? 

“No… No, n-no, please! PLEASE!”

“Oh, well,” Static started, turning back towards the man. He lifted his leg, putting it down next to the man, and squatting down to look closely at him. “It’s your lucky day!” 

Grian didn’t have time to look away. Barely under a minute, the poor man lying on the ground gave a relieved smile just before Static grabbed his face by hand. There was no scream of agony, just a growing sound of electricity, and an explosion under Static’s palm. Being blinded for a second wasn’t enough– Grian wished he hadn’t seen the moment that blood with pieces of meat and skin and muscle was splattered around Static; the man’s body was still shaking, seizing with electricity while blood dripped down his fully exposed and shattered skull. The body twitched and writhed with the aftershocks of the very dead man’s adrenaline, and Grian nearly vomited at the sight and the smell of the burnt up bits-and-pieces of the corpse.

Grian has seen injuries before– he has seen death before, but nothing was as gruesome as this. He couldn’t let the child see it. No, no, no, she couldn’t see it, this would ruin her for the rest of her life. He needed to… To hide, yes. They just needed to stay there until Static left, and then he would get her out, and he-

For a second, their eyes met. Grian immediately retreated towards the corner, hiding deeper behind the rubble, and holding the girl by his side, trying to shield her. Just a few minutes ago he was sure that they were okay, but now after witnessing this, he couldn’t risk it. He heard the sound of footsteps getting closer to their hiding spot, and he could feel the girl trembling in fear, trying to say something through Grian’s hand. No, no, no, not now!

“You don’t work here,” Grian didn’t even notice that he had his eyes closed, before he had to open them, meeting face to face with the villain, who crouched in front of them. The same way he did with the man. No. no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

The child let out a quiet sob, shaking. Looking down at her, he could see a wet puddle growing around her. Gods, this poor girl. He wanted to cry with her. He should have just picked her up and run when they had a chance, she wouldn’t need to be here. 

Static’s hand reached forward towards the girl, and Grain instinctively tried to shield her behind him. Fuck it, if they were dying here, he would at least try to protect her with his life– he would not go down without a fight. He just needs to… skin contact, right!! Grian, you spoon! He needs to touch Static’s skin and he can fight, but..

“I’m not gonna hurt her, calm down,” Static sounded peaceful, his glow around disappearing, only staying in his hair, which Grain knew was part of his costume to hide the identity. Grain observed him carefully, trying to find a hint of a lie in his voice, eyes, and body language, but Static looked… relaxed, as if he didn’t just take someone’s life. He was also reaching towards them with another hand, not the one still dripping blood, with remains of skin now attached to the black glove. He didn’t know what kind of reaction the girl would have if he did. 

He saw a hand getting closer and closer, and he scanned from the skin, he just... He just needed to get in contact with his skin, and everything would be fine… He just... He couldn’t see an open skin anywhere but Static’s face above the gas mask, and he knew that reaching for his face would be a suicide. His hand touched the girl's broken leg, and for a second Grian stilled, forgetting how to breathe. There was nothing, and a second later, he saw lightning enwrap her leg before the girl let out a scream.

“What the hell?!” Grian screamed, jumping backward and taking the girls with her, as far as possible. “You said you weren’t gonna hurt her!!” He looked down at her, trying to see if it left any marks or burns, but he couldn’t see anything, other than the damage that was already done.

“And I didn’t, she just got scared,” Static responded, slowly standing up. “I numbed her pain, broken bones are very painful to deal with, especially at her age when they are so fragile. The ambulance will be around here soon, she will be fine.”

With that, he turned around and went towards the exit, the doors missing from the hinges. Grian’s blood boiled. He was the one that attacked the blood donor lab, he was the one that got civilians into trouble, he was the one who’s actions broke that bone– and now he’s trying to act as if he isn’t? As if the girl should be thankful that he helped? 

“She was here with her mother!” He screamed at Static’s back, seeing him stop in place. Fuck, he shouldn’t have done that, right? He can just turn around and kill him, he said that he wouldn’t hurt her, not him.

“People are still inside,” Static countered, still not turning back and continuing to walk. “I told them not to leave before the heroes or police get them out, she’s probably fine.” With that, the form of the villain got wrapped up in the air in a lightning strike, disappearing from view. Right, he can control electricity and turn into it. 

“You alright?” He immediately asked, looking down at the poor girls, who continued to sob. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but instead of answering, she just burst into more sobbing, hugging him and hiding her nose in his shoulder. He let out a sigh and picked her up, holding her close to his chest. “Just… stay like this for a second, okay?” 

He slowly left their hiding spot, trying to keep the girl's face in the opposite direction from the corpse, hoping that she wouldn't see it, and finally got outside. He could still smell the smoke, both from the reception that they just left, and the second floor– which he could see through the window– was still in flames, worse than the first. If Grian’s not mistaken, the second floor is where they keep all documents and blood tests. Static probably wanted to destroy something specific but found out that it wasn’t here anymore. He wonders what was in those suitcases that drove him to these measures. And who the heck was Dust?

“Let’s just… wait a little longer, okay? I’m sure heroes will be here soon,” On cue, from the corner of his vision, he saw something jumping onto the second floor from the roof, clearly in a costume;  after that, an ambulance and several police cars followed. 

Grian didn’t leave until a group of people ran out from the lab, one of them bursting into tears and immediately approaching the ambulance where the girl was seated. They wanted to take her to the hospital, but after telling them about her mother still in the lab, they decided to wait– and for a good reason, considering the woman approaching them had a gushing wound on her forehead, the red liquid running down to her eyes. 

Grian wanted to leave, he wanted to hide from the cops as soon as possible; and now with heroes in sight, his anxiety was rising even faster. Which is why the moment mother and daughter were reunited, he turned away from his dark little corner and took off. 

By this time the rain had already stopped, which was quite inconvenient. Like- how is it that it rains the whole day, but stops the moment something explodes and bursts into flames? Grian let out a shaky and anxious chuckle, finally approaching the apartment. 

“Oh, no…” Grian mumbled when he finally looked down at his phone; he could spot at least 3 missed calls in the last hour from Ren, alongside many worried messages. It’s okay, Ren will understand.

“Dude! You scared the hell out of me! Where were you?!” Ren exploded the second Grian took a step into the apartment, making him sigh. Taking off the shoes and the coat, he immediately turned towards the bathroom, mumbling on his way as he knew that Ren was following him.

“I was walking back when the STARR Labs exploded, you probably saw it?” Opening the door, he went inside and dropped the coat inside the washing machine, then took off his shirt. It still smelled of smoke, rubble, and urine– and while he’s not the most hygienic person these weeks, even he can’t walk around with this on. Also, he’s pretty sure he will get fired the moment he shows up to work with his uniform smelling like this. 

“Of course I saw it! I was here when the explosion went off, and I could see the smoke rising! What were you doing in the lab that had you caught in the middle of this?” Ren asked, crossing his hands, his dog ears nervously twitching.  

“I wasn’t in the lab, I just..” Grian stopped in his tracks after throwing the shirt into the washing machine and looked up at Ren, before moving his vision to anything other than Ren. “I heard a scream... A little girl yelling for her mother, so I… I decided to help, and then couldn’t leave the lab, because the villain was right at the door…”

“You were in the same room as a villain?!” Ren exclaimed, his hands dropping down. He stared at Grian for a few seconds, before his expression softened. “You helped her?”

“Yeah…” He answered, unsure what to do with himself, but still met Ren’s eyes when he smiled at him.

“Of course you did, you have that in you,” Ren whispered. It sounded like he was… proud, which made everything inside him twist. He was a coward. The whole time he spent there hiding, not even trying to help the pitiful man who fell victim to Static’s hands. And even then, when the villain approached them, he couldn’t do anything but sit there and watch. What if he did hurt her? Would he just sit there, holding the corpse of the poor girl, seeing a mess of unrecognizable gore instead of a face like Static did to that man? He didn’t, but what if he did? In the end, Grain did nothing to protect her.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Grian murmured, avoiding Ren’s gaze again. He quickly moved around him and left the bathroom, the washing machine now on and spinning as fast as his day managed to spiral. Ren followed him back to his room.

“Oh come on, Grian, you know I’m right,” He said, overly enthusiastic. “I... Grian, listen,”

“I’m listening,” he responded, though he didn’t even look back, searching through his closet and grabbing the first t-shirt he saw to get dressed. As much as he loved being without the shirts, his wings out and breathing, the small holes on the back were enough to get them through and move around. Ren let out a sigh, and Grian heard a sound coming from his bed. Sitting on his bed, the other spoke up.

“I know that… something happened with you before we met,” He starts, and Grian instantly tenses. They never talked about Grian’s childhood, it was basically a taboo in this house, never to be discussed. Hearing Ren finally mention it… scared him. “And you don’t have to tell me anything, you know this, we talked about this before, but I’m not blind, Grian– I can see a spark inside of you.”

He can’t. There’s no spark inside him, and there hasn’t been one for a long time now. It all died years ago, the day he made the choice of a coward and ran away.

“But whatever happened scarred and scared you, that’s why you’re so careful right now. Sometimes I look at you and see the mischief in your eyes, but then you notice it too and try to lock it down, acting like helping others or having fun is the worst thing that might happen to you.”

It is. He does not deserve any of it. He couldn’t save the people he wanted to save the most, he was a coward, and if he let them down, how can he help others? People that he doesn’t even know. And how can he have fun, when he ruined the lives of so many? He should rot. They are probably wishing the same on him, after what he did. It wouldn’t be a surprise. 

“You need to pick up the pieces of your life, Grian, and finally get it together because you will be so much happier when you look up and do something that you want to do,” Grian wanted to cry. Ren continued to talk and his voice never quivered, always the same determination, the same trust and belief, belief that Grian actually deserved to be happy. 

He doesn’t know what his life would end up like without him. He never had a “lucky” life, but Ren? Sometimes he thought that Ren was the gift from above, and he wasn’t even a believer– it was just so surreal, that someone like Ren would stumble across someone like Grian, and instead of moving forward, approach him and offer him help. His roommate didn’t know anything about Grian’s childhood, didn’t know anything about his trauma; and yet, he stayed by his side. He doesn’t deserve a person like Ren in his life.

“Just… just think about it, okay? I know you’re not having the best days of your life, and I kinda understand why,” It was a cycle. It happened every year around February, it was only a matter of time before Ren noticed it. “But I… You need help, Grian.”

“What?” 

How did they get here? Ren started this conversation by saying that Grian wanted to help others and that he should if he wanted to, so why… Why are they suddenly switching to this? He doesn’t need help. Help for what? 

“You don’t feel well, Grian, It might not be me, but you need to talk to someone,” Grian fought every impulse of looking at him. Everything was telling him to do it, to meet his eyes and finally put an end to this, but he couldn’t. Not today.

Ren exhaled, and Grian heard the bed shifting. “As I said, just think about it– I’m gonna go make us some dinner, you’re probably very hungry,” Ren left the room as he said it, but before closing the door behind him, he quickly added, “Someone left that mail in front of the door today, by the way,” Ha? “I didn’t open it because it’s addressed in your name.”

With that, Grian was left to his thoughts. He let out a shaky breath and held back a sob, trying not to break down. Gods, why did it affect him so much? How did Ren know just what to say, to almost bring him to tears?

He turned around, facing the bed Ren was just occupying, and noticed a small box lying on top of it. He doesn't remember buying anything online, and even if he did, the box wouldn’t be delivered to the door– they would have gotten a piece of paper telling them about the package, and Grian would have needed to pick it up at the station. This was left by someone else.

Curiosity in him won, and biting down on his lip, he took the paper knife from the desk and slowly cut the top of the box. After dropping the knife to the bed, he opened the carton and noticed the pink.

Huh???

He dug into the box and took out a crop-top jacket: the wool was painted pink with a red heart in the middle of the chest, the heart outlined in black. Grian loves red, but he doesn’t think he has ever worn pink out of his work uniform– and screw that, why is someone leaving clothes at his door? Putting the jacket aside, the next thing he grabbed was the white pants, once again dotted with small heart patches around, this time colored in pink instead of red. 

What the hell???

Is this spandex?? And here it was, on the bottom of the box, a black turtleneck made of spandex, with a black domino mask on top looking back at him. Was Ren pulling some kind of a joke on him? What does this all mean? There’s no way someone actually left this at their door and addressed it in his name.

He took out the shirt, ready to turn around and go to Ren to ask some questions when his eyes were caught by a piece of paper falling down, which was hidden between the domino and the spandex. He picked up the paper from the floor and opened it. A letter.

Listen to your friend and remember my words. 

You know where the suitcases are.

Time is ticking.

- Oracle

P.S. You will need this soon, good luck!

Grian doesn’t remember how long he stood there, rereading the letter over and over again, trying to wrap his mind around it. He wasn’t sure it was from Ren anymore. Time is ticking. Remember my words. The stranger. Of course. Grian knew that there was something strange about that man in the morning, but he didn’t think that it might evolve into something worse. The suitcases? The ones Static was after? Did they want Grian to intervene? But why?

Grian sighed, sitting down on his bed and looking back towards the new clothes. Something was telling him that he was about to get into something much bigger than he ever wanted to. And something was telling him that his boring day-to-day life was about to become much more interesting.

_______

'-.° Masterpost - Next Part °.-'

[panxramic]

A little excerpt from my Sundrop and Moondrop AU :)

-

Chayanne and Tallulah

-

When Tallulah wakes up it is late at night and Chayanne is gone. Her face feels icky from all the crying and the last thing she wants to do is get out of bed. She looks over to Chayanne’s side of the room and finds his bed empty, which is odd at this late at night. The moon is just above their window shining a light glow into their room. Everything feels cold tonight, more so than usual.

Sometimes it feels like the world is laughing at Tallulah, seeing what it can take from her next. She’s young still, and it feels like people keep coming in and out of her life more often than she can remember. She’s been abandoned again and again, left to rot alone in countless orphanages and attics. No matter what she does, or how nice she acts, no one stays. Soon everyone gets tired of her, they send her to the next home or throw her out into the streets to die. It was a miracle the emperors wanted her.

Tallulah was found one breath away from death. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers a man with blonde hair and giant wings holding her. She remembers a long journey in which she spent the majority of the time sleeping. She also remembers a little boy with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He wouldn’t leave her side, even took it upon himself to hold her throughout the journey. But the one thing she will never forget is his eyes.

When Tallulah first met Chayanne she swears his eyes glowed. They called to her, mesmerized her in a way nothing else ever has. She was only 6 when she met him. Phil and Missa say that for the longest time, they couldn’t get her to stop crying, but Chayanne could, he always could. Tallulah distinctly remembers it was the eyes, something about them calmed her down.

She thinks maybe it was her just imagining things, maybe some trick of the light. Either way, bright blue eyes or not, Chayanne’s ability to calm her down has remained. Through every nightmare and bad dream, he’s always been there. Every scrap and every bruise. Even when she’s gotten into trouble and grounded, Chayanne would always be the one to sneak her in cookies or treats she was banned from having.

He knows her, knows her better than anyone else ever has. And just as he knows her, she knows him too.

Cautiously she makes her way out of their chambers. This part of the castle seems quiet tonight, even with the extra guards she can see down the hall. No one else seems to be asleep, probably trying to figure out where apa Missa went. Quietly she sneaks down the hall and around the corner to the doors of her parent's bedroom. She opens the doors and surely enough, there is Chayanne.

He is wrapped up in the blankets, lying on apa Missa’s side of the bed. She makes her way around to his side, closer, she can see him clutching tightly onto his duck plushie.

The moon's light is perfectly situated on his face. Tallulah swears she can see bright yellow and blue specks in his eyes. But under the light, she can also see faint marks of dry tears down his cheeks. She feels her heart shatter.

Tallulah thinks the world has been incredibly unfair to her. Time and time again she’s been abandoned, left to rot by her parents who believed her to be a curse. She believed she could be happy here, she believed she had parents that would stay. But the world was unkind and decided to take one of them away from her. And yet through it all, there’s been one person who has stuck by her side, one person who hasn’t left her. For the first time, Tallulah has someone to cry with. She has someone to hold her and dry her tears. It hurts, but at least she’s not alone.

Tallulah makes her way around the bed onto papa Phil’s side. He must still be awake, trying to find out what happened to his husband, her other dad. She climbs into the blanket and gives Chayanne a tight squeeze.

Into the moonlight, she whispers, “I’m here for you too.”

[fullofgutsndopamine]

ease my dread (trembling limbs instead)

or: the soulmates au

when the first bruise appears, a sickly yellow color with purple that runs through it, annoyance will be the first thing that runs through hasan's mind.

most are thrilled with the first mark; the reminder that someone is out there, for you, waiting for you to find them-instead, hasan wets his thumb and presses the tip angrily into the flesh, trying to rub it off, teeth gritted as he ignores the pain.

his mother will swat at him, gently, with an old stained dish towel and he’ll pull a face, a gentle: “mama.” as his hand falls and she’ll speak:

“most people,” she chastises quietly, “are thrilled when this happens.”

he grumbles, allows himself to slip further into his seat: “most people don’t take a fucking year to show.”

she clicks her tongue: “seven months, hasan.” she says gently and when she sees that doesn’t perk him up she rolls her eyes and ruffles his hair gently: “some people are worth waiting for, hasan. give them time.”

months pass. hasan counts the time in the marks that appear on his body; the bruise that forms on his thigh, the long scratch down his arm, angry and red, the black eye that he wakes up with and lets his finger trace an outline of, ignoring the way it hurts under his touch.

“i think my soulmate is a psychopath.”

he flops into a seat, bites into his straw as he takes a sip of expensive coffee.

“maybe they’re just clumsy,” will tries to counter, trying hard to not stare at the black eye that stares back at him: “you weren’t always graceful, remember that.”

hasan chucks whatever he can at wills head, this time in the form of a flat paperback that will always dodges at the last second, something he naturally become good at from hanging around with him for so long.

for a few weeks, no marks appear on his skin. how he use to twist and bend and mold to look at himself in the mirror, stretching further

no. instead, you found a new way to occupy his mind.

he’ll remember, months later, when you’re tangled into him, how you appeared in these dreams long before he knew a source, before he could put the features together. when you were shaky lines with the contrast too high, a hum pitched too high that always made him wake up sweating.

“you’re thinking too hard,” you’d say in these dreams, your hand tangled into his. “find me. if you’re so smart, come find me already.”

“i must be smart,” he’d say back in this dreams, a smirk on his lips as he pulled you closer, his lips pressed against yours as he talked: “if i can make you up-“

he’d close his eyes in these dreams, ready to kiss you, to finally lean in, before he would awake in his too small bed, sweat dripping down him and the familiar taste of strawberries on his lips.

hasan tried everything but faking his own death to get out of coming to this party. knew by the misspelled text message inviting him it would be a shit storm. he was halfway through his notes app list of excuses when will came to his house, all but pulled him out of his room and forced him into the building.

hasan used the excuse of the smoke getting to him to get out of the house. said he could poetically feel the smoke wrapping around his neck and choking him, taking his years away from him before he could even appreciate them. all his friends rolled their eyes, made the circle he was in smaller and all but kicked him out, forcing him into the backyard.

outside he could still hear the music but it was lighter, the words harder to understand, had to strain to hear what they were saying. he acted like he didn’t see someone puking in the bushes as he made his way to the kids swing set and plopped into it.

out of habit he slowly started kicking his feet, coming to a steady rhythm that would lift his feet off the ground. out of habit he lifted his arm up, inspecting his own body for any evidence that his soulmate existed.

“this seat taken?”

you don’t wait for a response as you sit in the too small swing seat, slowly kicking your feet.

it was like the sky opened up and projector lights flashed on you. he knew instantly who you were, the messy blob you were before now a perfect line, all the features he couldn’t make out before in front of him. like all those sleepless nights trying to make a perfect form of you, to try and memorize you was finally worth it-

“i dreamed of you.”

nice going, he thinks way to scare of your literal soulmate

instead, you hum gently, a familiar smile pulls at your lips. this isn’t how you imagined meeting him, had much more grander plans for this. didn’t imagine meeting him at a frat party, imagined yourself much more graceful and him more put together:

“was it a good dream?”

he’s staring and he knows it, knows it borders on being too creepy, too focused:

“never as good as reality”

his hand flies out before he can stop it:

“hasan,” he says gently, “i believe I’m the victim of the receiving end of all those bruises.”

you laugh, and it’s a familiar noise, one he didn’t know he was missing until he heard it, promises himself right there he’s going to do everything he can to make you laugh again and again, before your hand is out and shaking his, past the introductions:

“i’m glad i finally found you.”

and because that seems like too much, like that’s too familiar to say before you barely know their name, even if you dreamed them all this time, instead, he shakes his head: “i owe you some dates.”

[oscarthedino]

Jeremiah x y/n

Summary: y/n Conklin is the middle sister of Steven and belly. You have been dating Conrad sense last summer but lately you have been noticing he was off. As summer is now approaching fast you can’t wait to see him and also hope you can figure out what is going on with him but you can’t believe what actually is in store for you.

Warnings: cursing, mention of death/cancer, cheating, possibly assault and smut

Chapter 3

(Not my gif)

You are so confused and have had to many drinks to fully understand what just happened. All you know is belly should be fine and you need to get out of here before you guys get arrested. You start to look around to see if you can find Steven or Jeremiah or anyone. Someone slams into your right shoulder and you fall straight back landing on the same shoulder. You lay there for a second holding your arm thinking that is going to hurt tomorrow. You start to stand up and Jeremiah is in front of you giving you his hand. “Are you ok?” He asks with worry in his eyes as he sees your holding your shoulder. “Yeah I’m fine don’t worry” you tell him even though your shoulder hurts like hell right now. “Ok” he says not convinced “we got to go, Steven is headed to the car and everyone else Is already there” he places his hand on your lower back guiding you though the crowd of people. “Is belly there” you ask . “Ofc I would never leave her” he says looking at you real quick. As you approach the car you see belly in the front and Conrad behind her and as you get closer you can see he is messing with her hair and he whispers something into her ear and you can see her face turn slightly pink. What the fuck he is saying to her you ask your self picking up the pace a little so you can get over there faster. You get in the car and Steven comes up behind you getting in the car after you and ofc your stuck between Conrad and Steven. Conrad tries to place his hand on yours but you shrug it off.

You guys are about to leave but then the guy who belly was talking to earlier comes up. You don’t fully listen to what there saying all you know is that you guys need to get out of here and Jeremiah better get rid of him. Before he leaves though he leans in a kisses belly. You can’t help but find relief in that and feel better about what you saw but then see Conrad tense next to you and that all goes away. Jeremiah finally starts the car and is about to back out when a police officer comes up to belly’s window that is still down and asks “you guys haven’t been drinking have”. Oh fuck.

The next thing you know is your all sitting by the front door and your mom, Laurel is thanking the police officer before she leaves. “What were you all thinking” she looks over all of you with disappointment. Before Jeremiah could even say anything she holds her hand up “ I can’t even you guys don’t know how lucky you are that the fishers are well known.” She pauses for a moment looking between me and Steven before looking me over seeing what I’m wearing. I immediately tilt my head now knowing I’m about to get super grounded. She continues “ Conrad you should know better, you are the oldest and especially letting belly go with you” she looks at here and almost looks sympathetic for belly. Ofc you think and mentally roll your eyes. She can never be upset at her baby even though she snuck out but none of us say that. Conrad also doesn’t say anything and just sits there, mom isn’t even questioning the bruise on his face or belly’s. “And y/n what exactly do you think your wearing I want that dress if you can even call it that on my bed in the morning” she tells you and once again you look down to hid the embarrassment on your face. Jeremiah looks at you sympathetically before turning back to laurel and tries to say “ I swear we didn’t expect it to get that crowded and I didn’t drink because I was driving” She didn’t even respond to his comment before she half cut him off “ go to bed all of you maybe it will keep you guys out of trouble, and Conrad and y/n I expected better from both of you” and then she walks away.

You all head up to your rooms and the pain from your fall finally kicks in crashing into you like a wave. You almost physically jolt from it and have to pause for a min, luckily no one sees because you are in the back but you have tears starting to form in your eyes and there not all just from your shoulder. Conrad looks back at you and you immediately put a strong face on, you know you’re going to have to talk to him later. Belly walks to her room like she did earlier today and slams her door like she is the one who just got yelled at and basically told she is dressed like a slut. Conrad walks to his room but looks back at you one last time before walking into his room and so does Steven. It’s just you and Jeremiah now and you are both standing at your doors. “I’m sorry” he tells you. There is so much to unpack in those 2 words. Is he sorry about what we saw between belly and Conrad or about my mom or about everything between my sister and me, what happened at the bonfire. You think of everything that happened tonight and he just looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes with worry and concern and sorry. “How’s your shoulder” “Umm hurts like hell but I will be fine” you tell him. “Let me know if you need help, also i will come get you at 2 to go to the beach” he says. You give him a quick nod and then you both walk into your room.

You immediately walk over to your bed and gently lay down being careful of your shoulder. All of the thoughts and events that have happened tonight that you have pushed down start to come back up and you refuse to let them pushing them all back down but one won’t go back down. The guy coming up to you the hands on your waist pulling you towards him and you flash back your first party freshman you that you have refused the think of talk about.

You feeling dizzy and just blaming it on your drink then feeling someone’s arm wrapped around your shoulders leading you somewhere, feeling your back hit the bed and weight on top of you… No you aren’t thinking of that now you tell yourself but it’s to late everything floods back. The feeling of him touching you before your friend finally pulls him off you and your just laying there not able to move.

As the last wave of memories flood your brain you feel extremely nauseous and run to the bathroom hitting f your bad shoulder on the door making you screech of pain putting a hand over your mouth to stop the alcohol coming up and the sound of your almost scream before you finally reach the toilet throwing up now from both the pain and the uneasiness your feeling. After everything comes up and you sit there dry heaving for a few mins turning you throat raw you finally get up holding your shoulder to check the time. “Fuck it’s 2” you mumble to yourself.

You go to your closet being extremely careful of your shoulder. You pick out your favorite hoodie which is your track hoodie from school and a pair of butty shorts. You go to try and take your dress off but sense there is no sipper you have to lift it over your head and as soon as you try immense pain shots down your shoulder and your vision goes blurryand have to stand there a minute before you feel like you won’t pass out again and try to get it off again but it hurts just as bad and tears form in your eyes. You suddenly hear a a quite knock on your door and head over in defeat that you might be in this dress forever or have to cut yourself out of it.

You open the door and find Jeremiah there as expected. He must see the tears in your eyes because he immediately asks “y/n what’s wrong”

You let him into your room and he closes the door behind you “I can’t get my dress off without it hurting and I think I might have to cut my favorite dress to even get it off” you tell him pouting your lip a little not realizing.

Jeremiah laughs a little looking at you “you can be so cute and funny when your still tipsy and drunk” he says still smiling

“ jeree It’s not funny” you say tears building in your eyes for the hundredth time tonight this time more out of frustration and your tired.

“ ok, ok it will be ok” he tells you stepping closer towards you so he can rub his hands down your arms. You immediately flinch when his hand touches your right shoulder.

“You must of really hurt yourself” he looks at you with concern this time and you nod.

“Ok come on let’s help you get out of this”

“Ok” and you turn around

He gently reaches to your good shoulder and pulls the strap down and off your arm.

“I have to pull it down your other arm, ok” and you nod letting him know it’s ok preparing yourself for the pain. “I will be as gentle as possible” he tells you and you look back at him and see the compassion in his eyes.

No y/n you are not allowed to get butterflies you tell your self but they still don’t go away until you physically smooth your good arm over your stomach. And think wtf was that about ik he is my friend but he is also my boyfriend’s brother well kinda boyfriend right now but still. You look forward not willing to admit what just happened.

Jeremiah pauses for a second before he pulls the strap on your right shoulder off and his touch is so gentle it sends a visible shudder down your spine. As he pulls it down your arm he gets to where he has to move your shoulder and you reach behind you and grab onto the bottom of his shirt so you can squeeze it. He moves your and you let out a small muffled yelp immediately letting go of his shirt to cover your mouth and try to not let the tears in your eyes fall.

He turns you around to look at him “I’m sorry it over ok” he pulls you into gentle hug and your head lands on his chest for a min before he lets go.

He helps you take the Dress off the rest of the way shimmying it down your body and your heart rate picks up as he gets to the end of your dress where it cuts off high thigh and he falls completely down. He looks up at you and your heart rate picks up even more . This is so wrong you think to yourself but you can’t help that your breath catches when he stands back up and those eyes are piercing into your soul with so much heat. He offers you his hand and you grab it with your good arm and step out of the dress.

You both stand there for a second longer before you turn around almost so fast you lose your balance. “I’m going to get changed real quick” you tell him going to grab your clothes you picked out earlier

He just stands there for a second before he finally turns around and heads to the door “I’m going to get you some ice” he says before shutting the door behind him.

You grab your sweeter and try super gently to pull it over your head but it hurts a shit Tom more then when jere was helping you. You go to sit on your bed to pull your shorts on and climb into your bed. You refuse to think about what just happened be she it can’t happen. Your dating his brother and you do really like Conrad even with everything going on maybe it’s just because your still drunk he probably didn’t even think the same things you where. I mean he couldn’t have didn’t he have a thing for belly at least it seemed that way. All that mattered is that it couldn’t happen again and you push all of those feelings down.

Jeremiah knocks on your door again “you can come in” he opens the door and has a bag of ice and water in his hands.

He puts the water on your night stand and hands you the bag of ice and you put it on your shoulder and flinch at the impact. “Thanks”.

“Yeah ofc” he looks at you “I figured we probably should go to the beach this time” he laughs a little

“Yeah probably not” and you yourself chuckle a bit.

“You should probably get the shoulder checked out tomorrow” he tells you nodding to it.

“Honestly I should have just cut myself out of that dress, it’s not like I can ever wear it again” you sigh

“Hey don’t listen to your mom” he grabs hold of your hand “you looked amazing in this dress”

“Stop” you swat at him “you’ll make me blush” you laugh.

He laughs along side you “ there’s the y/n ik” he tells you. You both pause for a second looking at each other before he continues saying “catch me up”

“Well you know everything for the most part, I got on varsity which I was surprised about.

He interrupts you “I’m not your amazing at rubbing”

“Yeah , yeah you need to stop feeding my ego”

“I can’t help it when it’s true” he says.

“Whatever, anyway” and you continue to catch him up on everything your friend group drama your family drama until finally when you both have reached the point where you’ve told each other everything that you haven’t said over text you ask “do you know what’s going on with Conrad”

He pauses for a second looking away not saying anything before he finally says “idk a few months ago he completely shut himself off from us and quite football. I hoped he had talked to you about it but as I can see he hasn’t obviously”

“ yeah obviously he hasn’t…. I’m just worried about him yk he can’t handle this on his own whatever is going on” you say looking up from where you were playing with your blanket. “How are you handling this” you ask jere.

He lets out a long sigh “idk, tbh I was really looking forward to playing with him this year it was fun when he was still on the team yk. But now I feel like I can’t live up to spot he was so good.”

“You don’t have to fill his spot jere” you tell him “ just do your best and make your own spot and I bet you are amazing, I’ll have to come watch a game this year” you gently bump him with you good shoulder.

“Thanks y/n, you always know what to say”

“Ofc I do I’m just that much of an amazing friend” you say trying to hold back a laugh

“I really have to stop feeding your ego” he tells you standing up “I should probably go to bed it’s almost 4am already”

“Oh shit really” you say looking over at the clock “ I didn’t realize how late it got”

“Yeah” he walks over to you grabbing the ice from your hand. “Get some rest y/n you’re going to need it and don’t sleep on your bad shoulder.”

“Yes dad” you tell him rolling over “night”

“Good night y/n” he tells you turning off the light and closing your door.

You immediately close your eyes not realizing how tired you are and before you can even think about that night everything goes blank and you fall asleep.

You wake up to the sun shinning in through your window. You look over to your clock and he it is only 8m, way too early after last night . “Fuck” you say out loudly. You sit up to fast forgetting about your should and let out a little muffled groan at the pain reminding yourself h the at you should go get that checked out. You look over at your night stand and your head is pounding you definitely had to much to drink last night.

You spit a tray of greasy food and a weird looking smoothie on your night stand with a note on it. You pick up the note and read it.

I’m sorry about last night let’s talk - Conrad (p.s smoothie isn’t that bad jere says it helps with hangovers)

In that moment everything from last night comes flooding back and you tilt your head back to hit your head board. What the fuck have I gotten myself into already.

[georgiapeach30513]

Rebuild Your Ruins, Part 9

Summary: Steve takes you in. And you have a new job

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Saeta!Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, mentions of sexual assault (not details), mentions of kidnapping, mentions of sexual content, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Steve groans, rubbing a knot in his shoulder while you cower off in a corner. You didn’t think the giant would hurt you, but you weren’t used to Vikings. They had plucked you out of your home, and forced you to be a healer for them. His fingers dig into a spot in his shoulder, and you bite at your lip. It was in your nature to want to help his ailments.

“You can lay down,” he motions his head over to the one bed in this stupid tent. You shake your head, starting to squat down on the ground, “Please, don’t do that. Lay down on the bed.”

“That’s your bed.”

He sighs, you are going to be difficult for him. He is tired, sore, and he also worries about Aesir. He’d never seen Bucky look more scared. It took that moment for Steve to realize she meant more to him than just a lay. It’s why he waited so long to be with her.

“In the bed.”

“No,” you stub up, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Get in the bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep in the bed with a Viking because…you’re going to touch me. I don’t want to be touched. I’m tired of men touching me!”

His mouth turns into a straight line as he lets out a slow breath of air. “I’m not going to touch you. I’ll sleep on top of the furs,” you hesitate. The bed did look comfortable. And all the furs…they look amazing.

“If I have to, I will put you in this bed. You need sleep.”

“You won’t touch me?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. I’m not like that. I don’t need to touch someone when I…I’m not a sexual fiend,” he doesn’t want to spend all this time on getting some girl in the bed. But he couldn’t have you sleeping on the cold ground. You’d wake up frozen, and then he’d have a body to deal with.

“But you’ve had sex? And it was your choice? Because Rollo tried to take that away from me and the goddess,” Steve’s eyes follow your steps over to the bed, and you gently climb in. Burrowing yourself under all the layers of furs. It feels amazing. Cozy and warm, something you haven’t felt since you were brought to the strange countries of the north.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers as he walks over to the bed. “Can I get under one fur? It is quite cold?” It is his tent, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, so you nod your head. He asked. You couldn’t let him freeze to death.

The giant of a man picks up only one cover, and crawls into the warmth. Moaning uncomfortably when his back settles down, and you jolt up, “Please, just lay down.”

“What is wrong with your shoulder?” He cuts his eyes over at you, groaning again as he tries to turn his back to you. “Take off your shirt.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you,” he snorts out a laugh, but it’s quickly replaced by a groan of pain.

“I don’t want you to touch me, but clearly, I need to touch you. Take your shirt off and let me look at your shoulder,” you wait patiently as he situates himself with much difficulty, and removes his shirt where a nasty bruise had painted his entire shoulder black.

“Oh, dear!” You jump into action. Going to your satchel of things, and then you sit behind him. Fixing him up the best way you know how. “What happened?”

“Aesir was struck.”

“You love her?” His bright blue eyes peek at you over his shoulder, but he shakes his head no. “Everyone does.”

“No, they don’t. They fear her. Respect her. She's the daughter of Lagertha and Ragnar, and so much more. People believe she is a descendant of Thor. Granddaughter of Odin. Ravens.”

“They follow her around,” you mumble. You saw the little one eyed beast come into the tent. “She’s stubborn. But that doesn’t explain your bruises.”

“You have no idea how stubborn she is. She was struck, and I saw a shift in Bucky. Ari continued to fight around them, but Bucky — he went to her. Damn near got hit himself, and would have been killed. But I stopped it. Getting a bit of some dull pain myself.”

“It’s deep,” your eyes roll up to meet him before quickly looking back down at his back. “You’re a good friend to them. You don’t find it odd?”

“What? That my best friend is in love with a girl who loves two men equally. And you say there’s two babies. One for each of them. You know how they did it?” You shake your head no with a bit of a smirk, continuing to work out the other knots in his broad back. He was beautiful. Blackened ink draped his skin just as much as Bucky and Ari. Even Aesir. He clearly wanted to be covered in his story.

“They…they had her at the same time. It’s how they know that those kids are both of theirs. It would be weird, two husbands, and only one was the father. Ow,” he turns back to glower at you.

“The Mountain and White Wolf will love any child that Aesir produces. That’s how much they love her. Odin is not happy at the delay. Do you believe that she’s Thor’s daughter?”

“Ragnar and Floki themselves say her appearance to them is weird. That a streak of lightning led them right to her. She was always destined for greatness.”

“Fighting wars with men that would rather stick their cock in you when you can’t move. They don’t mind having her as an ally, but want to take from her when she can’t fight back,” Steve’s eyes soften at you. He hated Rollo as much as the next. He would pay for trying to hurt her and the babies. “She’s with child. He could have hurt the babies, or marked them before birth.”

“Rollo is an asshole. He knew better. We don’t fight wars, we raid. Not all greatness comes on the battlefield. Mmm,” he whimpers, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. “Some greatness comes from healing and comfort. Aesir can’t do that.”

“But she can take two men at once,” Steve chuckles while you move back to your spot. “Did you ever want her?”

“No. I had her, but we were just figuring sex out.”

“Is it not weird that you had your best friend’s wife’s pussy before him?” Steve shakes his head, laying back onto the mattress. He lets out a satisfied sigh. This felt so much better. He could move without being so stiff.

“Is it not weird seeing her after you’ve seen her naked?”

“Aesir and I weren’t always naked. Sometimes she was leaned against a tree,” your nose turns up in a snarl, and Steve can’t help but laugh. “You’re not born into our world, huh? A Christian?”

“I was stolen from a village in England. I had special talents so I was forced into this, rather than the flesh that they wanted. I was better suited out here than laying on my back.”

“You think we’re all sex fiends?” He cocks his brow up, while he looks at you. You don’t answer, just nod silently.

“In your world you’d be forced to breed with some pudgy sweaty man that bathed once a month. Laying underneath him while he pumped you full of children. Or you would have been whisked away to serve your God. All the while you’re lower than a man. Here you can be our equal. You think Bucky and Ari tell Aesir what to do? She may sink to her knees fast with Ari, but she controls them. They stand beside her, instead of in front of her. She’s every bit as capable as they are.”

“I don’t think you understand,” he turns to his side. Bending his arm at the elbow as he looks over your features.

“What would have happened if you were caught getting fucked before you were married?”

“I would be labeled a whore. I wouldn't be suitable for marriage. A public display of humiliation would have been put upon me.”

“The woman you hold in such high regards was caught several times with me inside of her. She wasn’t punished. She was celebrated by two men. One she gets to be a brat with, and the other makes her weak. But she wasn’t told she was a terrible human because she has desires of the flesh. I’ll admit there are some such as Rollo that think it is their right to take. But I assure you, there’s more of us that would kill a man that was taking from a woman. It wouldn’t be her fault for crimes against the skin, it would be his. You see your backwards thinking now. What do they call you, girl?”

“Saeta,” Steve gives you the sweetest crooked smile, and you hide your face in the furs. They feel so warm and heavy.

“Sweetie suits you. You’re stronger than you realize though. Don’t sell yourself short. And get some sleep. I heard a big Mountain has claimed you as his babies’ doctor,” his finger lifts over his one fur, tapping you a bit on the nose, and you scrunch it up, and Steve giggles.

“Where do you live, Saeta?”

“Close to the docks,” he understands your fear of being touched now. Forced to move here, and then they force you to be a healer, all while not giving you the proper care to live here. You are grown, and weren't taken in like Aesir.

“I want you to live with me.”

“No.”

He blows out an exasperated breath, this time giving you a tap to your forehead, “Quit fighting me. Are you uncomfortable right now?”

What an odd question. You are laying in the bed with him, comfortably and with heavy eyes, and he starts poking your face. “No, I’m not uncomfortable.”

“My home isn’t much, but it’s damn sure warmer than the docks. I always have more furs than this. I’m a bit of a hunter. And, I offer you my protection. Plus, it’s closer to the Mountain and White Wolf’s home. You can be right there with Aesir when she gives birth to two giant babies.”

“Wait…I won’t…they don’t want me working with…I’d just be with Aesir?”

“She’s a bitch sometimes, but it’s mostly bark. I’ve seen her with her mother, she’s quite soft. But yes, what Ari and Bucky want they will have. Ragnar has already agreed since there’s two babies in her womb that you should be with her all the time. She’ll hate it, but it beats her being wheeled around. You’ll have all of our protection,” his soft blues meet your own, and even though there is a part of you that wants to scream yes, anything to get away from the flea infested area, you have questions.

“What…what am I to you?” His head tilts to the side, unsure of your words. Steve was blunt, much like the other Vikings. “I don’t want to be used for your pleasure.”

“Saeta, I have been with one woman. And you can ask her, I don’t take. If this progresses into something that’s one thing. But you can safely lay in the same bed with me, and I won’t touch you.”

“Will you touch yourself?”

Steve chuckles, stretching his arms above his head, “You’re funny. I am but a man, and sometimes men need a certain type of touch. I promise to not be openly stroking my cock in front of you. If you saw it, you just might want to join me.”

“I wouldn’t,” your voice is flat as you turn your back to him.

“I’ll remember you said that. Get some sleep. We’ll journey back soon.”

“And I’ll live with you.”

He lets out a low rumble, flipping the opposite way of you, “Good choice. It was either me, or the with the goddess and her mountain and wolf. You’d get to hear them have Aesir in every which way. Her being with child will not stop them from filling their needs. And hers. Pleasure isn’t only for the man, Saeta. Remember that. And if it is just for the man, he’s doing it all wrong.”

It gives you something to ponder. You had never heard anything about taking a man, except when you were of age to marry. And all you were told was you would take your husband, whenever and however he wanted. But judging by the talk of the village, Aesir was more than satisfied with her two men. And the care that they gave her. It was like she was a precious gem.

You peek over your back, looking at Steve’s broad shoulders. His bruise was deep, but you knew in time it would heal with your help. He is already sleeping soundly. His lungs fill with air deeply, and you see him as more than just a Viking, but a kind man. One that would rather his back be to you, instead of crowding your space. The docks hadn’t been kind, but he was offering you a sanctuary. And for that you are thankful.

Feeling at peace with becoming a goddess’ personal nurse. And you knew she would test you every step of the way. A brat was how Steve described her. There could be worse fates for you than to follow the wife of a mountain and a wolf. The daughter of Thor that was housing two future Vikings, and you they were bound to be as fierce as their parents. And you would be greatly rewarded by the gods.

Snuggling deeper into the furs you find a solace of warmth. The steady breathing of Steve lulls you to sleep, and for the first time since coming to their world, you feel relaxed. You aren’t shivering. You feel at peace. Cared for, and that was the best feeling in the world.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @whimsyplaty92 @sgtjaamesbaarnes @thebuckybarnesvault @harrysthiccthighss @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @ashychangeling

[themculibrary]

BAMF! Peter Parker Masterlist

a terribly real thing (ao3) - idyllic_dae T, 6k

Summary: What even happened? As he searches his memories, he discovers that there’s nothing there that relates to his current predicament. The last thing he can recall is coming home from school on a Wednesday. After that… Nothing. No reasons as to why he fell asleep in a puddle, which is disconcerting.

He exhales shakily, then tries to think about this logically. What does somebody do when they find themselves inexplicably in the middle of the forest?

Blood and Bone (ao3) - deadvinesandfanfics pepper/tony M, 40k

Summary: Peter… wasn’t exactly sure how he’d gotten here.

The room was dark, and silent, except for the repetitive thump-thump of a heartbeat from somewhere beside him. It sounded like Mr Stark’s arc reactor, with a soft tick accompanying every second beat: that, and the smell of motor oil and fancy cologne.

His head throbs, and his muscles ache. He feels like he’s just lost a fight with a brick wall, or several. There’s crusted blood on his upper lip as well as his temple. He can feel it matted in his hair, and he wants nothing more than to take a shower right now.

Looking around a little more, Peter realises that he doesn’t even know where they are. The room is nearly pitch black which makes it impossible to make anything out. He thinks he’s tied to some sort of cheap plastic chair; his hands are bound behind his back with a mess of rope and some thin metal handcuffs - so he assumes his identity is safe. No way whoever this was would leave him in just metal handcuffs if they knew he had his powers.

Then, a huff of noise off to his side.

“Mr Stark,” he blurts, panicked. “I think we might’ve been kidnapped.”

Desperate Measures (ao3) - blondsak, seekrest mj/peter T, 13k

Summary: Waking up in the medbay, groggy and weak but otherwise okay, Tony instantly realizes two things.

First, that he should almost certainly be dead—yet he isn’t.

And second, that Peter isn’t here—even though Tony knows there is nothing in the world that could have stopped him, not when Michelle had been hurt too.

At least, nothing short of his own death… or something far too close for comfort to it.

With growing dread Tony lifts his head to stare at Michelle who stares right back, her expression as grave as he’s ever seen it.

“What did he do?”

Fifty-Two Hours (ao3) - Eccentric_Grace T, 5k

Summary: "What did you do?" Tony asked blankly, staring at Ross with something incomprehensible, unholy, monstrous under his skin. "What the hell did you do to him?"

He looked over the kid again, feeling bile in his throat. Peter's knuckles were scraped and bruised and bloody red– he put up a fight, there wasn't a doubt about it.

'Please keep fighting,' he thought. 'C'mon, kiddo. We'll make it out of here. I'll fix it.'

or: tony and peter get kidnapped. tony tries his best to keep calm.

Five Times Tony Tries To Protect Peter (ao3) - Anonymous T, 12k

Summary: “I’m literally a superhero!”

Plus one time where Peter saves them all.

he gives his heart to strangers (ao3) - TheRoomWhereItHappened347 G, 10k

Summary: Peter loved New York, he really did, but there were many days when he doubted saving its citizens were worth it.

People needed saving but their pride stopped them from thanking him, or JJJ's scathing reports placed perceptions in their heads that weren't true. Thankfully, there were days when some people made all his suffering worth it.

Alternatively: 5 times Peter Parker saves New Yorkers and 1 time they save him.

it's always who is spider-man, never how is spider-man (ao3) - i_regret_thatpersonalityquiz harley/peter, wanda/vision, pepper/tony T, 176k

Summary: "Stay?"

Peter finally looked down to see Harley Fucking Keener, Iron Lad, the boy who had caused his shoulder to be throbbing in pain all night, looking away with a slight tint to his cheeks. Peter opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out.

And he sat back down.

OR: Peter had been living on the streets, dealing with your average homeless vigilante stuff. Things got a bit more complicated when the Avengers started to chase him down.

i wake up to the cold reality (and not a thing has changed) (ao3) - im_your_mom_now T, 49k

Summary: Tony paused mid-sentence, eyes darting to the crowd. Everyone's heads were turning left and right with confusion, wondering who the hell would boo Iron Man. He continued, "To international concerns over unsanctioned actions and consequences by—"

"This guy sucks!"

"—enhanced individuals and members of the Avengers to create a system of accounta—"

"Show us your tits!"

"Okay, who the hell—" Tony gave up and lifted a hand above his eyes, blocking the light to see the crowd better. His eyes scanned each person's face, trying to locate the shit that kept interrupting his speech, and followed everyone's gazes to the ceiling. He froze as his eyes fell on a red and blue clad vigilante sitting in the beams.

Spider-Man looped his legs around the beam he was on and swung to hang upside down. Cupping his gloved hands around his mouth, he shouted, "Tell a joke!"

_

OR: The Accords dehumanize and discriminate against enhanced individuals. Spider-Man isn’t very happy about this. (Spider-Man happens to also be a foster kid who is in dire need of a mentor.)

let's see how far you've come (ao3) - Stackthedeck T, 6k

Summary: “Do I look like a kid to you?” Peter interrupts.

Tony scans over Peter’s eyebags and stress gray hairs and the work bag he still hasn’t shrugged off because he has to be somewhere in an hour. He flinches at the scars on his face, the bruise on his cheek instead, his gaze lingers on his hands, strong and calloused, with grime under the nails.

“No,” Tony says, “no, you don’t.”

“I’ve been doing this a long time,” Peter says, “longer than you, longer than the Avengers, long enough to stop counting the years.”

(The Veteran hero Peter Parker Civil War rewrite no one asked for!)

lies do not become us (ao3) - graye T, 13k

Summary: Following the trip to Europe Peter is having nightmares. Which is normal, except they're different. Instead of abstract versions of what happened things are suddenly lucid; he's been essentially re-living past traumas for months, and the dreams don't even touch on what happened in Europe. It isn't until Beck finally makes an appearance in one of these nightmares that Peter realizes maybe there's more unfinished business than he thought.

-

His breaths quickened, it was getting harder for air to get in. In and out. Breaths by the sixes—

Wet hands. He had fallen in a puddle. He looked into the water and his reflection was changed. He was Spider-man now. The original one, the one Tony made fun of. Underoos. It was covered in blood. Torn and battered. The blood wasn’t his.

No. No no no no no—

Thick green smoke rose from the ground. It masked everything and he could only see a few feet in front of him. The sky was gone. Only the graves and him were left. Alone. He whipped his head around. Left and right. Nothing. His breathing turned ragged. There was nothing behind him either. He turned his head back and—

He was there.

Peter Parker's Home for the Wayward Villain (ao3) - BeanieBaby peter/wade, steve/bucky, pepper/tony T, 90k

Summary: A really long redemption story.

The Imposter (ao3) - multiworlds111 tony/pepper N/R, 5k

Summary: Tony and Pepper had traveled into the city for a few emergency meetings, but they promised they’d be back for dinner and left Happy in charge. Peter can’t find him, though, and he was just sitting on the porch and frowning a few moments before. As the tingle grows stronger, Peter feels adrenaline flood his system, along with a fair amount of fear. There is something foreboding about the soft sway of the branches in the breeze.

OR: Peter and Morgan are playing in the front yard when something triggers Peter's Spidey sense.

The Devouring Storm (ao3) - blondsak, mysterycyclone mj/peter, ned/flash T, 98k

Summary: The city is unusually quiet tonight. Oh, sure, he’s had his usual crimes: muggings, drug deals, a few break ins. Nothing special. Nothing that could possibly explain the thread of tension winding through him, slowly tightening like a noose. Ever since last night, his spidey senses have set off at a low, maddening hum, distracting him, needling him, filling him with a restless energy that’s robbed him of restful sleep. He’s used to dealing with his super powered anxiety, but this feels different somehow. More ominous. And what’s weirder is that other people seem to be a little more wary, a little more on edge than usual, too. Cops, firefighters, even one of the guys Peter caught snatching a purse commented on it from his web cocoon on a street light.

“You feel that, Spidey? The city’s all weird tonight. Feels like the whole place is holding its breath, waiting on something.”

the most chaotic of kidnappings (ao3) - OnlyForward G, 5k

Summary: a group of kidnappers decide to kidnap peter parker stark, the heir to stark industries, because he’s only a child and can't do them any harm. they are, naturally, extremely wrong.

feat. nicknames, badass peter and a healthy dose of scaring the hell out of everyone who cares about him.

tldr: don’t kidnap peter parker stark. this is why.

those bambi eyes (ao3) - WhyShouldEye T, 12k

Summary: The struggle was real when it came to keeping a secret identity. Especially when the identity was kept from a group of superheroes made up of a retired agent, a retired assassin, a retired super-assassin, a super soldier, a couple military men, some geniuses and a literal god.

Peter thought he would be able to keep his name and face away from the spotlight until he was at least old enough to drink. He hoped that his Parker Luck would hold out until his twenty-first birthday, maybe even past that. But a villain crawling out of the woodwork and a couple of life-threatening injuries were quick to change his plans.

Hopefully, he could just flash those Bambi eyes and get it over with.

Under the Impression (ao3) - Assayist T, 26k

Summary: Fourteen years old looks a lot different in person than it does on paper.

When he actually meets the kid behind the Spider-Man mask, Tony Stark starts to doubt. Can he really drag a kid into the dangerous world of professional superheroes? Even if it might be their only chance to save Captain America & Co.?

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 30 / 31 * BLIND SPOT 」

April 16, 1991

“Mom’s gonna lose it when she sees that,” Verne says, scrunching up his face as he studies the nasty bruise swelling up around Jules’ left eye. It’s gnarly—so much so he reaches out to touch it, prompting Jules to swiftly smack his wrist away—purples and reds and blacks blossoming out from his eye, his upper eyelid swollen, encroaching on the eye itself, and Verne whistles, not envying his brother’s position.

That looks like it hurts.

Last time that happened to him, his face ached for days and Curie only made it worse, trying to help with the bruising by licking it clean. It was almost as bad as the scolding lecture Mom had given him.

“I know,” Jules says, heaving a sigh of resignation well older than his twelve years. “I don’t know what’s going to be worse, her worrying about this and sitting us—”

“—You! Don’t drag me into this, it wasn’t my fault this time!”

“—down for another one of her lectures about why we shouldn’t let ourselves get provoked into fights with the other kids or the look on Dad’s face.”

“Mom,” Verne answers without a moment’s hesitation, “no question. Dad only freaked last time ‘cause the school called him and made him come down there and made it sound like something bad happened to you.”

All the kids in the school had talked about it for a week, how crazy old Doctor Brown burst into the school like a madman and chewed out not only the principle, but the teacher who’d allowed such an incident to happen right under her nose.

Peter Weintraub spent the whole next day telling anyone who would listen that Doctor Brown got so angry he threatened them with one of his creepy death rays and Verne nearly marched all the way to the upperclassman’s lunchroom to even out Peter’s stupid, smug face with a second black eye.

God, he really hated that kid sometimes. And Jules had to sit in classrooms with him every day. The thought nearly makes Verne shudder.

Jules barks out a sound between a huff and a laugh. “Yeah, Dad doesn’t get angry often but he really wasn’t happy that day. But that just gave Peter another reason to start running his mouth like the jerk he is.”

Verne kicks a rock in their path, sending it flying down the street. “He musta messed up real bad this time if you hit him after you promised Mom you wouldn’t.”

Throwing his head back, Jules lets out the loudest, most exaggerated sound of exasperation and disgust a twelve-year-old could possibly manage. “He started going off about Dad again! And not with the usual stuff either. I still hate it that people think Dad’s just some crazy failure ‘cause we can’t tell them about the You-Know-Whats or all the other cool stuff he’s been inventin’ for them, but you know what he says.”

That it doesn’t bother him because it’s nothing he hasn’t heard all his life, and probably in far worse ways than anything these kids can come up with. Verne nods, understanding all-too-well.

“So fine, he can say whatever he wants and if the others laugh with him, they don’t know anything. But this time he went too far, talking about how Dad’s too old, sayin’ stuff about Mom, and I just lost it.” Jules goes to rake his hand down his face and thinks better of it at the last second, diverting his energy into following Verne’s lead and sending a rock hurtling down the street with all the pent-up anger he can summon. “Next thing I know I’m hitting him and we’re yelling and—ugh, Mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Mom’s not gonna kill you. But she is gonna give you That Look that makes you wish you could steal one of Dad’s Machines.” Suddenly, Verne snaps his fingers, taken by a brilliant idea. “I bet Uncle Marty’s got some makeup at his place we could use to cover that up. And he won’t rat on us to Mom and Dad.”

[gulnarsultan]

I imagine that before the trial Modern Reader was chained up and the guards were leading Reader towards the court. But outside there were angry crowd of people who were screaming “QUEENSLAYER!😡” “MURDERER!😡” “TRAITOR!🤬” “SHE MUST BE PUNISHED FOR THIS!😡🤬” And some were throwing rocks at Modern Reader, hurting her. But Modern Reader doesn’t really care. Modern Reader was chained up and was thrown accusations and thrown rocks at, but none of it stopped her smiling. Modern Reader was smiling out of relief and she doesn’t care what was happening around her. That is until she’s in the trial and all her family were there for her. Yandere platonic Tywin, Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion were sitting there and listening everything what Modern Reader told them, in horrifying details. Everyone inside the court were listening: some were shocked, others didn’t believe it, and some didn’t know what to say. But luckily there were witnesses and Lannisters are main witnesses. Tywin saw the bruises on Reader’s body, Jaime heard her screams and cries, Cersei witnessed the scene (how the Queen was raping her) and Tyrion was holding Modern Reader while maesters were tending her wounds, because some wounds were bleeding. There were other guards and servants who witnessed or heard Queen’s violence towards Modern Reader. And do you know why Modern Reader was smiling and was relieved? Because she got revenge. She killed the Queen for murdering her mother Joanna.

Of course the matter would be solved, Modern Reader and Jaime won’t be heavily judged for killing Aerys II and Rhaella. Some would call them heroes (mostly Jaime). Modern Reader would need a looong time to get over the trauma. Thanks to Rhaella, Modern Reader won’t normally sleep at night (Queen’s visits), she even won’t trust the medicine (because Yandere Dark Rhaella was giving her, so she could “take care” of her). The first thing Modern Reader wants to do is to visit her mother, her grave.

“Hello mother. It’s been many years since I talked to you. Heh, everything is fine now, Targaryens are gone, Cersei marries Robert and I asked him to treat her well and he told me he would. Jaime is Kings guard and he’s called a hero instead of Kingslayer. Tyrion is doing fine. And father… he misses you… he tried his best to save me. The Queen got what she deserved. I made sure of it.”- Modern Reader said that sitting next to Joanna’s grave. Modern Reader stays quiet but then the tears coming down her face and she was crying and she was holding Joanna’s tombstone 🪦 thinking she’s hugging her mother “I miss you so much mother. You promised me we see each other again 😢 You promised me that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I didn’t come for ceremony. I’m sorry for letting this happen. I-I’m sorry.”- there were more tears and anyone could hear Reader’s cries. The last time Modern Reader saw her mother alive when she was in Kings Landing, ever since Joanna died Modern Reader was still in Kings Landing. That means Modern Reader didn’t visit Joanna’s grave for more than 10 years and finally she got there after Rhaella’s death. Tywin who was standing nearby, hold Modern Reader close, comforting her and was crying with her. Father and daughter were crying for losing the woman they loved so much. Tywin lost his love and Modern Reader along with Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion lost their mother. But for Modern Reader Joanna wasn’t only a mother but also someone who was protecting her. Tywin and Modern Reader stand there at Joanna’s grave and then they leave.

When Reader was talking to Joanna or to her tombstone 🪦 I was crying, and I can’t imagine just how much it hurts Modern Reader. But one thing I do know is that Modern Reader won’t be the same.

I feel very sorry for the reader. Now she's free of the Targaryen scum. It won't be the same as before. However, thanks to his family and friends, she will rise again. When Robert first ascends to the throne, he makes a promise to the reader. If Viserys and Daenerys come back, the Baratheons and many other houses will fight them. Something tells me that Stannis and Renly will be good friends for the reader.I think the friendship of the Baratheons will mean a lot to the reader.

[lavenderpanic]

Deleted Scenes from Chapter 10 of I Am Ash From Your Fire

I took a few scenes out because they didn't fit cohesively, so I'm going to post them here. NOTE: These are part of a bigger fic, this is not a standalone fic and will not make sense if you aren't familiar with the rest of the fic, all warnings from Chapter 10 apply to these excerpts.

“Something’s seriously wrong,” Steve sighs exasperatedly, pausing in his pacing just long enough to look at Sam and Natasha. “Wanda said he just… quit. No explanation. She said she could tell Brock was there, instructing him on what to say.”

“What can we do?” Natasha sighs, hugging the pillow cradled to her chest even tighter. “We can’t call the police, obviously, and even if we could, Bucky doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

“He’s obviously being abused, who gives a shit what he says?”

Sam lets out a belabored groan. “Steve, if he says he wants is, that’s it. He’s already on record talking to doctors and social workers saying he consents to whatever Brock does. If they both agree that they want it, there’s not much we can do.”

“We need to get to Bucky,” Natasha says gently. “He needs to realize, without being forced, that he has to leave.”

Steve scoffs lightly, continuing his feverish pace from one side of his apartment to the other. “Yeah, real easy when he’s locked at home all day, no way to contact him. I mean, I’ve seen the shape he’s in after Brock hurts him, how much worse does it have to get before he realizes? I don’t think it can get any worse.”

“He has to leave his apartment at some point,” Sam reasons. “And Brock’s a cop, there must be times he’s out and Bucky’s alone.”

“There’s cameras,” Natasha shakes her head. “He’d recognize us if he saw us, Sam, probably you too, Steve. But you’re right, maybe Bucky does go somewhere during the day.”

Steve’s pacing slows down as he tries to think of places Bucky might go in his free time. “He told me he’s been going to the gym for the past few weeks. And I doubt Brock does his own errands, I bet he goes to the store or the dry cleaners or someplace like that.”

Natasha sighs again. “That won’t give us enough time, though. Even if we can get, what, five minutes alone with him? Nothing we can say in five minutes is gonna make him leave. We’ve been trying to convince him since we’ve known him.”

“So we have nothing. No way to help him, no– no fucking plan?”

“There isn’t just a set of code words to snap him out of it,” Sam says softly. “If he really doesn’t understand that what Brock’s doing is wrong… arguments that sound logical to us aren’t going to change his mind. Most people who leave go back, multiple times. I think the most important thing is that Bucky knows he can leave, that he has somewhere to go, someone to support him, when he does.”

“I can’t just wait around while he’s getting hurt,” Steve whispers. “I was there, in the hospital, I saw the state he was in. He almost died and he still got mad that I called an ambulance. He was literally on the verge of death and Brock was blaming him for passing out. What happens if he has another emergency and he doesn’t have someone to force him to get help?”

“It’s painful,” Natasha agrees. “I see it a lot, with the people who come to the shelter. I watch them go back and get hurt over and over again. But I promise you, the more forceful you are, the less likely they are to come back at all.”

“I know it’s hard,” Sam sighs. “But last time he needed help, he went right to you. That’s a good sign.”

Steve shouldn’t get excited when his phone buzzes anymore. It’ll never be Bucky. It hasn’t been, for weeks. He wouldn’t dare call, he doesn’t want Bucky getting in trouble on his account, but he nearly has about a hundred times. He was satiated, slightly, when Sam told him he saw Bucky at the store. He’s alive, at least, or was last week. It worried him to hear Sam’s recollection of the state he was in– exhausted, bruised up, about what he expected– but any confirmation that he’s alive is enough for Steve.

Even so, even though he knows he shouldn’t still hold onto that hope, he feels his heart pick up when his phone buzzes. The hope deflates when, of course, it isn’t Bucky, but instead an Instagram notification. He clicks on it, really just out of curiosity. He doesn’t do much on Instagram but post his drawings, and he rarely has new people follow him. As soon as he opens the app, a message pops up.

b3cca_barn3s: hey ur buckys friend, right?

rogers070420: Yeah it’s Steve! Is everything alright?

b3cca_barn3s: i was actually kinda hoping u would know. he hasn’t answered anyones calls or texts in forever. hes never ignored me like this. is he ok? :(

rogers070420: I honestly haven’t heard from him either, I’m really sorry. I wish I could help. My friend Sam saw him a couple days ago at the store, but he hasn’t called or anything.

b3cca_barn3s: oh :( ty anyway. plz lmk if he texts u

rogers070420: I will! Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with

[coramatus]

Under the City Streets (part 11)

Both ravaged by the Unknown, two brothers find each other again. It goes poorly.

The final refined version of this early drabble.

For the bigger picture of everything that’s happened, read part 9.

For a quieter moment with Emmet, read part 10.

When Emmet and the Woodsman meet for the third time in the Unknown, it’s a complete accident.

Emmet, still hurting from the knowledge of what Volo’s selfishness wrought; still nursing a badly burned and aching arm; simply turns a corner in the dark forest path and finds his brother standing right there.

The two stop and stare at each other.

Neither speak for what feels like an eternity.

“It’s you again…” the Woodsman finally says.

He looks conflicted this time. He desperately wants to believe Emmet has been nothing but a Zoroark’s trick. But something in him that's only been getting louder tells him to stop and listen. The things he’s been starting to grasp about his situation as the Unknown’s Woodsman, the things he’d tried to ignore as he fulfilled his duties, all the little wrong things are starting to pile up. His conviction has been shaken and he’s teetering on the precipice of something terrifying.

He knows that this meeting with Emmet is what will or will not push him over that edge.

“Ingo…” Emmet whispers.

The Unknown has not been kind to him.

In the stark light of the Woodsman’s lantern, the full extent of Emmet’s battered state is all too clear. Cuts and bruises mark his face. His eyes have deep shadows under them, his skin paler than the Woodsman remembers. His shoulders sag with the weight of exhaustion and sadness. His clothes too are stained, muddy, and burnt. His once pristine gloves are shredded and filthy, the fingertips long torn away. His dress shirt has been torn open to reveal the singlet underneath. The ends of his greatcoat are missing, left in tatters as if something with massive sharp teeth ripped it out. Half his right sleeve is gone too as is the cuff of his left. He clutches his right arm, bandaged with the remains of his frayed tie and trembling in obvious pain.

Emmet sighs.

“Where is he?” is all he asks. His face is expressionless.

He looks wrong.

why isn’t he smiling he’s always smiling what is going on??

“Who?” the Woodsman asks instead, trying to look impassive.

Emmet’s eyes are dull as he looks into the Woodsman’s, dulled with such sadness as he presses on, exhausted, “Your brother. Where is he?”

“Somewhere safe,” the Woodsman answers stiffly with narrowed eyes, hoping it keeps his voice from wavering.

Emmet stares evenly at him. His dull, gray gaze moves to the lantern in the Woodsman’s hand.

“You’re lying. It’s that lantern, isn’t it?” he says. There’s no accusation there. Only the truth. “You think that’s your brother.”

The Woodsman says nothing, merely angling the lantern protectively behind him.

“I don’t know why else you would obsess over that damn thing,” Emmet says with a humorless laugh. He points at it disparagingly, his normally flat voice rising with indignant fury as he verbally tears into it, “Look at it. It’s not even up to modern regulation; those were phased out a century ago! They’re fire hazards! You know how many people those things have burned to death because their oil spilled after a simple collision. It’s the least safe thing a Subway Boss could ever carry around!”

He is absolutely right. He should be ashamed.

The Woodsman cuts him off with a shaking, fearful question, “What do you want?”

Emmet holds out his hand, his eyes imploring, “Come home. This is not your home. That is not your brother. You do not belong here.”

He takes a step forward.

“Ingo, please…”

The Woodsman reacts blindly.

“Stay back!” he snarls as he swings his axe at Emmet.

Emmet is supposed to duck, to back away, to give him room to think. He isn’t trying to hit him.

But Emmet doesn’t move to dodge it. He doesn’t even flinch.

A shallow cut opens on his cheek.

It’s like the Woodsman has been punched in the gut, the sight stealing his breath away in horror. He barely notices he’s dropped both the lantern and his axe to cover his mouth.

i did that i did that i did that i hurt my little brother

Emmet stands in stunned silence before he raises a hand to the cut. His fingers come away bright red with blood.

The Woodsman chokes back a whimper.

what is happening why is everything so wrong what am i doing

Emmet’s eyes, though dull, briefly focus in on him as he asks,

“Ingo… if that’s your brother, then what is his name?”

The Woodsman starts to answer… but stops.

…

He realizes… he has no idea.

“H-his name…” the Woodsman stutters, his breaths racing, racking his mind, searching, searching, searching, “He… your name… I don’t…”

There is nothing.

He has never known his brother’s name.

“I-! I don’t know!!” he cries, his fingers fisting in his hair, tears building in his eyes.

Why doesn’t he know?!

He feels a gentle hand on his arm and he gasps as he looks up to find Emmet standing before him. Despite the blood running down his cheek, a spark of hope shines in his eyes.

“Your brother’s name is Emmet,” he says, a tearful smile on his face. “I am Emmet. I am your brother, Ingo.”

The Woodsman stares…

And flees.

It takes all of his willpower to ignore the pained gasp behind him, the sound of the last scraps of hope finally dying.

Everything is falling apart for him. Everything he thought he knew is unraveling right before his eyes. Everything he had done was all for a lie. Three years of lies, lies, and more lies.

He can’t take it anymore.

So he runs.

Emmet doesn’t follow.

He lets his brother run from him.

He lets the fresh wave of pain carve itself deep into his burnt arm.

When the crashing of brush stops, when the Woodsman throws himself behind a tree, sliding down its trunk into a crumpled heap, heaving in frantic lungfuls of air as he sobs, Emmet wordlessly regards his brother’s abandoned axe and lantern and simply projects his voice into the dark and still forest, hoping he is listening.

“I am Emmet. I will not chase you. I know you need… you need time. I am sorry I could not help you more. Please… find me… if you want to.”

With the most sorrow he’s ever felt, he adopts his signature point-and-call pose. Tears trail down his face as he recites his opening battle speech.

“Follow the rules. Safe driving.”

“…f-follow the schedule,” the shocked Woodsman finds himself reciting in sync with Emmet.

He knows this speech.

He can’t won’t stop himself.

“Everybody smile,” Emmet continues, “Check safety.”

“Everything's ready. Aim for victory,” the Woodsman whispers along.

He knows every word by heart.

“All aboard,” they repeat in unison, tears streaming down both their faces.

He’s heartbroken that he has to do this, but Emmet turns around and leaves. He is crying.

The Woodsman is crying too.

Part 12

[ventya]

Everyday i think about how we could have had canon Harringrove with the magic of flashbacks!

Before you dismiss this Money Heist did this with Berlin and Palermo and it was so perfect. Giving place to a new character and giving old (dead and alive) characters even more depth.

We’d get an uncharacteristically grieving Steve, who doesn’t know how to handle Billy’s death. He’d be at Billy’s grave and we get scenes of Billy and Steve where they got along when they were both benched during basketball, them at the quarry sitting on their cars, when Steve invited Billy to his house at night. Same night where Billy puts on Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl for Steve because his house is a fucking mansion. When they get together it’s not explicit boyfriend thing but. “You know I can’t buy you pearls, uptown boy.” Billy joked with a wolfish grin and Steve had to keep himself from melting. “You don’t have to.” Steve knew it was a joke but still. He licked his lips. “If you want…I can buy you pearls.” Billy snorted at that.

Steve is in immense pain but he doesn’t show it. He’s good at it, he learned it. But it hurts when people can’t see. Can’t see how hurt he is.

“What do you know about pain, Steve?!”

It’s too late now. Vecna gets ahold of him, his grief and his guilt. He has the willingness to die at the hands of this monster especially when “Billy” is in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The thing asks him and it sounds so much like Billy. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me? You could have saved me.“ It gets hard to breathe, Steve feels like he’s falling as reaches out to Billy. Apology on his trembling lips till he hears a familiar sound. Steve turns seeing the large image of him and Billy in his living room dancing.

“Uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world.” They were singing and laughing. Their voices mixes with other voices and his gaze follows these voice. There at the back it’s him…floating? And around him Robin and the party. They are all singing Uptown girl.

“When things get tough,” it was Billy’s voice and Steve almost forgotten about that night. That night Billy had come with another set of bruises.“Like really tough. I want you to leave, Steve.”

“What? Billy-“

“I want you to leave me behind. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself if anything happened to you.” He wasn’t sure if it was his mind scrambling to survive or if it was something else.

“Billy I can’t leave you-I won’t!”

“Steve! Don’t you fucking get it!” Billy was angry with tears in his eyes that made Steve’s heart ache. “The world wasn’t build for people like us. One of us has to make it through. And I want that to be you.” Billy was crying choking on his words. “Just please- fuck please promise me that.” He looked desperate and heartbroken that it made Steve feel sick. So just nodded his head to get Billy to calm down.

“Okay, okay-“ he heard his own disappear Steve turns to look at this thing pretending to be Billy. He feels his throat tightened and his eyes sting as his heart slowly broke. “I’m letting you go cos I promised you.” And so he ran, he ran to what looked like the exit. He ran to the people still alive, who cared and loved enough for him to sing a cheesy pop song that they all told him to turn off when he played it.

When Steve fell down to the ground arms were thrown around him as if he could fly back into the sky any second. He doesn’t cry.

“I’m alright guys.” He laughed lightly. He doesn’t cry, he lets the other cry for him. Robin has arms tightly around him and she didn’t let go of him till they stood up. She tried to play it off cooly but her red eyes, wet cheeks and sniffling made it hard.

“Can’t believe you made me sing Uptown Girl.” She huffs slightly.

“Can’t believe you knew the lyrics.” Steve teases then she gets that look in her eyes.

“We can listen to it all the time now. Dustin can you explain it to him.”

Dustin still had his arms around Steve, very tightly. “Dustin, buddy?”

“I need a moment.” The boy gets out as Max and Lucas continued to try to get him off Steve.

“So, I think we have a lot of talking to do.” Robin says, they are walking to their car.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you serious??!”

“Yeah,” it comes out too bitter.

“So what you just going to listen to Uptown Girl for the rest of your life instead of you know talk about what is going on?!”

“If I have to!!” He did not mean to yell and he regrets it when he sees Robin’s face from a shocked face to a sad one.

“We almost lost you, Steve.” She whispers, its too sad that Steve has to look away. Robin is begging him. “Please.” She reaches out for him, he pulls away.

“Steve please.”