#I mean it’s like the games are sadistic right? I can’t figure out to tag like the trope for a game the whumpee can’t win

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

used as a literal punching bag from the torture bingo card for whoever you’d like

Card by @a-crumb-of-whump!!

Content: Well—being used as a punching bag, broken bones, emeto, prison whump, sadistic whumper, and generally a guy having Despair.

Tagging: @whump-queen @whump-in-the-closet @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @onlywhump

—

Thud.

The chess board clattered as it landed on the cold tile. From the farthest corner of the cell, Ciel watched intently as the guard got down on their knees in front of the board. And still they were looking down at him—Ciel could barely get off the floor in his state. His ankle was definitely sprained, and it ached terribly—a fact that hadn't convinced anyone to give him a break. Not to mention the bruises over bruises, scars over scars.

He was so tired.

The guard stared back at him with a barely concealed smirk, a taunting glare in their eyes. They gestured to the board as if it was a friendly invitation to play.

With no real choice, Ciel crawled to the edge of the chess board, the chain around his good ankle clanking as he did so. There was no getting out of this. He'd play, or he'd suffer for refusing.

He always got first move. The guard treated it like it was some sort of mercy—and maybe it had been, a long time ago.

I'm giving you a chance. Be grateful for it.

He tried to smile like he was.

Either way, the game always ended the same. It ended with blood and tears and words like I’m sorry, I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please— falling from his lips.

The best Ciel could do was stall for time, use every move to prolong the game. And maybe, maybe he'd spend a few minutes in a little less pain than he usually was. Maybe, maybe, something would happen and they wouldn't finish and he'd get to avoid the end for just one day.

But it never happened. The final move would always be made. Someone would checkmate, and the game would end.

The guard was an incredibly tough opponent, and it had taken Ciel countless games to finally capture their king. He almost cried that first time he won, because he'd thought that maybe this time, maybe, just maybe—he'd finally be safe.

And then he saw the flash of anger and felt the first blow.

That's when he learned that everything was futile.

It didn't matter who won this time either.

The guard locked cuffs around his wrists, attached a chain to the ceiling, and pulled him up and up—his shoulders stretching more than he could bear, his toes barely touching the floor.

They circled him like a hungry hawk surveying its prey. Ciel closed his eyes and bit on his lip until blood dripped down his chin.

Please just get it over with.

The blows didn't hurt that much compared to the despair. Even as his ribs cracked. As the fists to his stomach made him vomit. As his voice gave out from the screaming.

It didn't hurt as much as knowing next week, it'd happen all over again.

There was no escaping this hell.

—

A/N: hehehe sad chess man go brrr

[highdefhoetry]

Behind the Blindfold, ch. 4 [Gojo Satoru x reader]

tags: NSFW!!! female reader, jealousy, possessiveness, marking/biting/hickies, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), tickle kink, creampie, finger sucking, big dick, aftercare, exhibitionism, hair pulling, doggy style, overstimulation, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, size kink, size difference, reader is short, gojo is feral af and a bit sadistic

summary: after a big argument fueled by jealousy, gojo satoru is determined to prove you wrong.

word count: ~4,477

read part 1 here! read part 2 here! read part 3 here!

read on ao3 here!

“Hey! (Y/N), wait!”

Heavy footsteps echo behind you as you rush through the crowded streets of Tokyo. You push your way past unassuming people, simmering quietly as you make your stormy escape. You hear someone calling for you, but the sound of his voice only serves to ignite you further. You pretend not to hear and keep going.

“I said wait, god damn it!”

You dip into a nearby alley and find yourself at a dead end. Shit. The footsteps that had been following behind you for the last several blocks pause, and you sense a foreboding presence behind you. You swing around to glare at Gojo Satoru, who’s staring back at you from behind dark tinted glasses with an uncharacteristically serious expression. He had barely broken a sweat during the chase, despite how quickly he was walking to keep up with you. Your attempt to run away had been futile.

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that?” he rubs the back of his neck, rolling his head backwards from side to side. “How many times am I going to have to chase after you like this?”

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” 

Your voice is sharp and full of venom. He shoves his hands into his pockets, the corners of his lips turned down in displeasure.

“Calm down, firecracker. Why are you so angry all of a sudden?” he whines. “You’re more worked up than usual.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back furiously.

“Okay, okay,” Gojo puts his hands up in an act of surrender, letting his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. His radiant blue eyes peer over them, studying you intently. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissed off.”

“You know exactly why,” you spit back, trembling a bit from anger. “I should have known you’d pull something like this. I should have never gotten involved with you.”

“Huh? What on earth are you going on about?” annoyance begins to seep through his voice. “What the hell did I do?”

“I fucking saw you, Satoru. With my own two eyes.”

“Saw me what?” His volume increases, and you sense his own patience is wearing thin. “Spit it out already. I’m tired of this damn guessing game.”

“You were flirting with her! Right in front of me!” the tears you had been forcing back finally break through. You feel a few of them drip onto your burning cheeks and quickly wipe them dry. Your entire body feels hot. You hadn’t realized how agitated you had become. How he always managed to get under your skin was beyond you.

“Flirting with who? ” he pauses for a moment, tilting his head to the side with brows furrowed. “...Hold on a second. You mean the barista?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I saw you take her number.”

You shoot daggers at his perfect face while he gawks at you, taking a moment to process your words. Then, his frown slowly starts to fade. A slow smile creeps across his face as he looks back at you with an incredible amount of satisfaction, chucking quietly in that low baritone of his. 

That goddamn smile. It made it almost impossible for you to cling onto the anger. 

Almost.

“Ah. I see what’s going on.”

He closes in on you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re up against the wall with nowhere else to run. 

“You’re jealous.”

Lacking the energy to come up with a comeback, you simply cross your arms and scowl. He lets out a bitter laugh, shakes his head a little. 

“Well, I can’t help that I’m ridiculously good looking and charming. It’s not something I can control,” he says, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “But she’s not my type at all. I just accepted it to be polite. You know, because somebody is always on my ass about being nice to people?”

You scoff angrily, but a few seconds later, he pulls you into his embrace. He wraps his arms around your back, pulls you into his chest. It’s such a sweet gesture. You don’t have the heart to push him away.

“You don’t need to get all grumpy about it,” his velvet baritone melts in your ear, his breath tickles your skin. “I told you, you’re the only one I’m interested in right now. That’s why I asked you out on this date, no?”

He takes your chin in one of his big hands, then pulls your face up, forcing you to return his gaze.

“Have a little more faith in me. How many times do I have to say that I only want you?”

He leans down and plants a kiss on your lips, twirling his tongue with yours. You close your eyes, allowing the last tears you’d been suppressing to drip onto your cheeks. He catches them in his thumbs and wipes them away. You’re not fighting him, but still find it difficult to get into it. He senses your hesitation and pulls away.  

“You still don’t trust me,” he furrows his brows again, looking a bit forlorn.

A tinge of remorse stings your heart, but you remain silent. He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets once more before backing away. He looks towards the sky as if contemplating something, pondering silently for a few moments, then turns back towards you with a stoic expression.

“You know, I’m a patient guy, (Y/N),” he finally speaks. His tone is darker, more embittered. “But even I have my limits.”

He narrows his eyes to glare at you intensely. The sight of him barely containing his unbridled frustration fills you with both fear and excitement. Your heart skips several beats; you recognize that look. You knew what this meant.

Those wild, insatiable eyes. 

The way he’s purposely leering over you, a quiet reminder of your height difference. 

He could ravage you as he pleased, take you whenever he wanted, as he’d done many times before.

And he was about to do it again. 

Still at a loss of words, all you manage to do is stare back at him and watch as the sweet Gojo you’ve come to know becomes something sinister.

“What do I gotta do to prove myself, huh?” he towers over you as your back presses against the wall with that same crazed look in his eyes he had whenever he was about to take something, or someone, down. “Do I have to grovel at your feet? Kiss the ground you walk on? Tear my skin off so you can see me bleed for you?”

He slams his hand on the concrete wall beside your head and stares into your soul, locking those stunning baby blues with yours. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You’d seen this side of him only once or twice, when the two of you were exorcizing a particularly difficult curse during one of your assignments. It was hard enough back then to focus on combat while you watched his fingers work their magic, curling and twisting as he used his jujutsu technique, reminding you of how skilled he was with his hands and how good they felt knuckle deep inside of you. His hair had been wild and unkempt as it flowed around his head. His eyes were fierce and untamed. His smile was wide and full of malice. He snickered as he worked, full of twisted pleasure as he tore the curse apart.

And now, his attention was solely on you.

“Maybe I’ve been too nice. Maybe I need to be a real bad guy for you to finally understand.”

Before you have a chance to respond, you feel one of his big hands wrap around your neck, holding you tightly in place. His grip is firm, but not painful. Your breath becomes shallow and frantic, and there’s nowhere to look but up. Your eyes meet his and his hands start to roam, slipping between your thighs to feel the warmth between them. His fingers touch your wet mound, then start to massage your swollen hood. He grins menacingly and lets out another dark chuckle.

“You like that, baby? You want me to be mean? You’re already soaking wet.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip, admiring its softness. You part your lips, inviting him inside, and he takes advantage of this invitation by shoving his thumb into your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, marveling at the taste and feel. It’s clean, soft, and a bit chapped from the dry air. Your mouth moves forward and backwards, reminding him of the talents of your tongue. His grin grows bigger, stretching his beautiful pink lips across his face.

When he can’t wait any longer, he pulls out his thumb and picks you up in a smooth, seamless fashion. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you into the air, pushing your back up against the alley wall while holding your legs at both sides of his waist. It happens so fast that you don’t have time to protest, to claim that you’re too heavy or that it’s too embarrassing. It’s like he’s carrying a basket of feathers; you’re practically weightless to him. Your legs dangle in midair for a second until they wrap around his waist as his thick, strong hands rest on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. There was no sign of strain or discomfort in his expression. Only an insatiable hunger, one that only you could feed.

God. He was so fucking hot.

“You want me to fuck you in front of her?” he growls into your ear in between the frantic neck kisses he’s peppering over your skin. “I’ll bring you back there right fucking now. I’ll show her how badly I want you.”

His mouth hungrily consumes you, his lips press themselves against every inch of your face. You’re caught between breathy gasps, sultry moans, and half-giggles. The sensations almost overwhelm you. 

Your hand sneaks around to the back of his head and grips it tightly. His teeth sink into your neck, causing you to cry out and dig your nails in his skin. They wander upwards, scratching and clawing his buzzed undercut, and once again you are blessed with the sound of his sweet moans. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” you demand, grabbing fistfuls of his silk hair, drunk off the beautiful, desperate noises he’s making. 

“You,” he grunts while humping against your mound. He’s rock hard; it won’t be much longer until he forces it inside you once more. 

“Say it louder.”

“You. I belong to you.”

“That’s right,” You cup his face, pull him in towards you until his lips meet yours. You whisper loaded threats in between each stolen kiss. 

“You’re mine. All mine. I’ll fucking kill anyone who comes near you.”

It’s intense. Even you frighten yourself a bit as you voice your internal thoughts. But this is what Gojo Satoru has done to you. 

“You’re scary, (Y/N),” he teases, laughing a little. “But it’s really fucking hot.”

You are starting to grow tired of words. Feeling brave, you run both hands through his hair, then yank it softly as you pull his head to one side. There’s a momentary look of shock on his face, but his confident grin quickly returns. 

“Taking charge now?” he chirps. 

You lean forward and whisper in his ear, mimicking all the times he’d done the same to you.

“I want the whole world to know you’re mine.” 

It’s subtle, but you see him shudder as your words wash over him.

You begin to trail a path of kisses from his lips to his neck. Once you reach the smooth, blemish-free skin, you begin to suck, lick and bite ever so gently. He makes a sudden noise that’s shockingly high pitched before letting out a long moan. You hear his voice shudder as you do it again, alternating between tender kisses and aggressive bites. Each time you pull away, you look at his pale skin and see another red mark in the shape of your lips and teeth. But the other side looks bare. You gently pull his head to the left, allowing you access to the untouched. Your lips meet his skin once more, your teeth leave indents as you nibble and suck. 

The sounds coming out of his mouth are heavenly. Like a chorus of angels warbling in the air. His voice flutters with every kiss, every bite, every new mark left that claims him as your own. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as he makes sweet, fluttery noises, just for you.

“(Y/N)...” he murmurs, barely able to form coherent words. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing a grown man like him turn to putty in your hands. The greatest sorcerer in the world, brought down by neck kisses and hickies. And you were the only one who could bring him here.

You lose track of how many times you mark him, but when you’re finished, you trace each one with the tip of your finger. Admiring your work. Your marking has left him in a dream-like state; the only thing that comes out of his mouth is an airy, bubbly giggle. His skin quivers as your fingers trail across his neck. He’s just as sensitive as you are, if not more.

Your lips press against his, reawakening his desire. His hands grope your thighs. His fingers press deep into your skin, wanting to leave their own mark on you. 

He can’t wait any longer. He sets you down, back on your feet. Wobbly hands grab your panties and yank them down your thighs. The hem of your skirt rides up, and you feel a rush of cool air between your legs. You suddenly remember you’re in public; your eyes dart around to see if any passersby are peeping at your lewd act. He notices this and laughs.

“Oh, are you feeling shy now?” he derides. “I forgot. You like your privacy.”

You start to talk back, but your surroundings change in an instant, and once again you find yourself in a totally new space far from the dirty, rancid alley. Gojo and his goddamn cursed technique. He just had to show it off whenever he had the chance. 

You briefly glance around, and after a few seconds it dawns on you that you’re at his place. You’d only been there once or twice, but you recognize the smell of expensive cologne and the piles of black clothes scattered around the floor. The essence of Gojo Satoru.

He carries you to the couch and plops you down, then climbs on top to straddle you. He seizes your wrists, holds them above your head, then uses his free hand to poke and prod at your sides. It happens so fast, you have no time to prepare yourself for the electrifying sensations that shock your nerves. You scream, you laugh, you thrash around wildly as he torments your sensitive body more than ever before. All while cackling maniacally like some sort of evil villain. 

“Satoru, stahahap!” is all you can manage to spit out. 

“What’s the matter? You like this, don’t you?” he taunts, tickling you even harder. “I’m just getting you warmed up, sweetheart.”

“Stop, it’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“That’s right, baby. Beg for me.”

You feel like you’re going insane. He’s tickling you to madness, digging into your worst spots and tweaking your soft skin like he’s playing an instrument. Your laughter starts to sound like a hysterical melody. You’re struggling like hell to get out of his grasp, but the tickling has weakened you and eventually you resign yourself to laughing. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and he watches your futile attempts to escape with sadistic glee. You start to babble, pleading him for mercy, but all that earns you is more wicked laughter.

“You cryin’?” he taunts, wiping a tear off your cheek and licking it. “How cute. No mercy for you, though. I’m a bad guy now, remember?”

A moment of respite. You grovel, appeal to his sense of mercy, but in the end he ignores you and resumes his torment. His fingers dance across your ribs, following your body’s movements as you twist and turn. At this point you can’t even form words, and despite how much you’re shrieking and giggling it still seems like he’s laughing even harder. 

You’re not sure how much time passes. It could have been a few minutes, or half an hour, or longer, but he finally lets up, allows you to catch your breath. You take deep gulps of air, still giggling lightly when you feel his hand rest on your stomach. 

The momentary respite ends too soon. He slides his hands down your waist, rests them on your hips, taps them with his long fingers. The feeling makes you jolt, and the sight of you quivering under his touch amuses him further. He chuckles again, staring down at you with a crazed, feral look in his eyes. Your heart is thumping so loudly you wonder if he can hear it. 

“Turn around.”

It isn’t a request. He doesn’t give you any time to decide whether or not you’re going to be obedient or defiant, quickly flipping you over so he can gain access to what he wants most. He grabs your hips again and lifts them into the air, forcing your face into the suede cushions on the sofa. You feel his soft lips press against your cheeks as they plant sloppy, wet kisses and love bites across the seldom-touched skin. You cry out softly, overcome with pleasure and just the right amount of pain. Out of nowhere, his tongue flicks your taint, making you squeal and buck your hips forward. You had not been expecting that. He simply pulls your hips back, slamming them against his own before licking the hyper-sensitive area once more. All while stroking his fingers up and down your sides, putting you in overstimulation hell. The sounds coming out of your mouth are inhumane.

Several minutes pass, and he finally decides he’s had his fill of your suffering. At least for now.  Ready to be inside you, he yanks down his pants and boxers, throws them off to the side. They must have knocked over a lamp or something, because you hear a loud crash on the other end of the room. You turn your head to look, but don’t get the chance to see what it was. His hand pushes down on your neck, forcing you down once more while the tip of his cock pushes itself against your hole. You cry out when he shoves it inside. No matter how wet you are, his dick will always take you by surprise by its sheer size and girth. It feels so fucking good. It’s driving you insane.

The palm of his hand moves from the back of your neck to the lower part of your scalp. He makes a fist and pulls, softly at first to ease you into it, then with a bit more force. It forces your head back as he pumps his dick inside you over and over. It’s different from how he’s fucked you before. This time, there is no slow buildup or loving thrusts. Just him slamming his cock deep in your hole with rapid, deep strokes. 

His other hand is gripping your waist, gently squeezing it every now and then to mess with you. Each time you feel that tickly feeling, your hole clenches around his member, coaxing more feral grunts and moans from his beautiful lips. Your back arches, your ass cheeks slam against his hips, your voice grows hoarse from the guttural moans emerging from your throat.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he croons. “Your perfect little hole is mine.”

“Satoru! Aaaah…”

“You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?”

“God, yes! Yes! ”

A few more strokes, shoved deep inside of you, and finally he comes. And he comes hard . He lets out one more loud groan before busting a load inside you, filling you once more with warmth and satisfaction. His cock twitches as it rests inside you; his moans grow softer, quieter. He stays there for a while, and you relish the full feeling his giant cock provides. When he finally pulls out after several seconds of cockwarming, you feel his seed dripping out. It soaks the cushions below. 

But he’s not done with you yet. He manhandles you again, turning you over so you’re on your back and your legs are wide open, giving him full access to your cunt. His head dips down. His lips press against your throbbing clit. His tongue dances and twirls around, then his mouth consumes you completely. You’re already soaking wet, full of his cum and yours, and the intensity of his tongue movements are pushing you over the edge. You grip the fabric of the couch and arch your back, losing yourself in the ecstasy of his touch. 

It takes quite a while for you to reach the edge, but he works you over with steadfast patience. He chuckles as he listens to you whimper and moan, and doesn’t resist when you grab his head and shove his face further down. His expert tongue and soft lips send waves of pleasure through your body, never ceasing even after you climax. Ecstasy courses through your veins. Pleasure vibrates through every nerve ending. You throw back your head and practically scream. You’ve never come this hard before, not with anyone else but him.

He’s not finished. As you’re panting and heaving, he slips one finger into your hole and slowly pumps it back and forth. Still writhing from the earth-shattering climax he just gave you, there’s little you can do but cry in frustrated pleasure. With one curl of his finger, he brings you to another climax, this one much more intense than the last. Your entire body arches upward. Colors and shapes explode in your vision. Your mind is starting to go fuzzy, but he still doesn’t stop. When the second orgasm has finished washing over you, he sticks in another finger and curls it up. Then he does it again, and again, and again…

With sweat plastered across your forehead and skin flushed so deeply it feels aflame, you whisper quiet pleas to your merciless lover.

“Satoru…” you splutter in between haggard breaths. “No more…”

He simply grins at you in response, devouring the sight of you with his voracious six eyes.

Ten long fingers rest on your hips, stroking them lightly. They crawl up your sides, then back down again. They follow your body’s movements while you thrash wildly, laughing and screaming in octaves you never knew you could reach. Every light flutter, every feathery claw feels like an electrical surge on your skin. All those successive orgasms have left you insanely sensitive. It’s the closest thing to torture you’ve ever felt. Gojo watches you with cruel satisfaction, laughs maniacally when you try to beg for respite. It’s unhinged, the way he’s giggling so cutely while making you suffer. Part of you is scared he’ll never stop. Part of you hopes he never will.

Fortunately, he does. After god knows how long he finally lets up, although he keeps his hands on your waist and his eyes focused on you. You can’t imagine how you must look; your eyes are bleary from all the tears he’s forced out, and your hair is strewn wildly about your head from all the struggling and wild movements. Your skin is warm, your throat feels dry. He damn near killed you with this little game of his.

He senses your exhaustion and stands up to grab you something to drink. He’s back in a split second, pressing the glass of cold water against your lips.

“Drink,” he commands, and you obey without protest. You finish the whole cup in a few gulps. 

He pushes some of your hair out of your face, strokes your cheeks gently before kissing each one. His lips meet yours, and once you pull away he takes you in his arms and cradles you as you lay against his chest.

“Fuck…” you finally speak once you’ve regained your strength. “You’re a goddamn monster.”

That makes him laugh. He hugs you a little tighter and plants a kiss on your head.

“Are you still upset?"

"Upset about what?"

Oh. Right. You'd forgotten all about that. He smirks victoriously, proud of himself for getting one over on you once more. Asshole. But you don’t have the energy to say much else. Instead, you close your eyes, ready for a fucking nap after all that stimulation, but something stirring on the other side of the room gets your attention. You lift your head up, scanning the place for the source of the sound before your eyes fall on the figure sitting in the corner. The same corner you had heard that crash earlier.

A look of horror crosses your face as the realization hits you. 

Someone else was in the room.

And she’d seen the entire thing. 

It’s the barista from the coffee shop. The one you had accused. The poor girl gapes back at you both in disbelief and confusion, frozen with panic.

“Satoru!” you shout. He erupts into laughter, finding great amusement in your shock.

“Don’t worry. She’ll probably think it’s some sort of dream or vision,” he says in an attempt to console you. “Anyway, give me juuuust a second…”

He stands up, walks over to the young woman, then places a hand on her shoulder. They both vanish from your sight, and a few seconds later he reappears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout again, earning another chuckle in response.

“I told you I’d fuck you in front of her.”

He hovers over you, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Next time, believe me when I tell you how I feel. Then we won’t have to play these silly games.”

You gawk at him for a long time, a million thoughts running through your mind. You want to scold him, tell him off, rip him a new asshole, but god. You’re so damn tired. And you can’t argue when he’s looking at you like this, with his big baby blues full of affection, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Two big hands cup your cheeks, brushing away the last of your sweat and tears. You close your eyes, and a soft pair of lips kiss your eyelids and forehead. When you open them again, his beautiful face greets you with a gentle smile full of adoration.

Gojo Satoru was a fucking enigma. The more you got to know him, the less you understood. But you were past the point of no return.

As you found yourself lost in those eyes of his once more, you knew there was no going back. 

[gayandfullofdismay]

Pls don’t stop rambling!!! These tags are FOOD

I was absolutely thinking about Dabi + Karma interactions bc aodjskdkkd but nagisa and keigo you’re so right!!!

(Plus I figure if they can have a class of like 27 kids it’s fine to just add a few bnha characters to it rather than replacing the original cast)

But no no bc can you imagine what Karma and Touya look like next to each other the day that Touya runs out of his black hair dye

You’re just staring up at these two kids, one of them is twirling a knife and the other is holding blue flames an inch from your face, both of them have blood red hair and the most terrifying smiles you’ve ever seen-

(Everyone in that town swears to the grave that demons come in twos)

On the other hand, Karma with Tomura lmaoo

Very much a karma+terasaka crossed with early karma+korosensei type of relationship

Karma is vry well aware of how destructive Tomura’s quirk is and his pissy holier than thou attitude reminds him of basically every classmate he’s ever beaten up so. Yk

He is doing his absoluteeee best to egg him on bc he knows Korosensei never actually lets anything get far enough for a fight between then to work

(Yk the way he fought the hand guy at the hotel was absolutely something he started doing with Tomura first)

So Touya and Karma get on like the two little sadistic maniacs that they are while Tomura is just tugging Touya away like every ten seconds bc he hates Karma and doesn’t want to share

(Boy I hope him having to acknowledge his jealousy towards anyone near his best “friend” doesn’t awaken something in him… 👀)

But to pick up on Tomura’s side of the linear narrative…

Well

Tomura doesn’t know everything, sensei knows everything, only sensei would be able to tell him right from wrong but he can’t tell sensei and there’s no one else who- except. Well. There is one other adult who would know, who follows sensei, is trusted by sensei to teach him right and wrong who-

And this is how an absolutely exhausted sleep deprived still panicking Kurogiri ends up having the most stilted awkward conversation with his ward of his whole life

(Tbf he only remembers about 10 years of that life so it wasn’t saying much but still)

It’s a perfectly terrible conversation with absolute bangers like:

“So hypothetically… asking for a friend… if-“

“You have friends??”

“YES. SHUT UP. HYPOTHETICALLY-“

It is a very long conversation.

Much, much later, Tomura comes out of that talk with a lot of questions (“who’s Aizawa?” “I-I don’t… know”) and an extremely tentative game plan

(“You have to choose Tomura. You have to with what you’re willing to lose against what you’re not. The kind of person you want to be and the kind of people you want around you.”)

He’ll just have to figure out who what he’s willing to lose.

Well, if that annoying bird kid would leave his best friend alone, anyway

Every time he’s rounding the corner, that stupid bird is following his friend around, bothering him and talking to him and bumping shoulders with him like Touya is Keigo’s friend

And because he’s bothering Touya that means Tomura has to deal with him too now, him and his idiot hair and his stupid soft wings and the stupid dumb idiot way that he always wins every spar in class-

(Kurogiri had a far of look in his eyes as he stared out the window.

“I don’t think I got to choose,” he whispered, so soft Tomura nearly doesn’t hear.

Something in his chest like nausea and heart burn twists and make his hands cold.

I didn’t get to choose)

Ok but Assassination Classroom DabiHawks AU

The moon is blown up like normal and the public only knows a villain did it while the government is going crazy in the background about the new number one villain that blew up the moon holy shit

Korosensei is going to Kunugigaoka to teach 3-E, the government is panicking and the HPSC learns that the ministry of defense sent over two of their people

This is unacceptable

There is absolutely NO way that they are letting them have all the glory so they look around and what do you know, their pet project happens to be the perfect age to be a student there :)

They send him in saying that he’s a hero student and Endeavor, who has been working behind the scenes to help kill Koro in increasingly ludicrous murder attempts, hears that the HPSC is sending in a hero student to “infiltrate” the school

This is unacceptable

There is absolutely NO way that he is letting them take all the glory and well whaddya know, his eldest is the perfect age to attend the school as a student :)

So the canon year starts

Touya is put in as a last minute transfer student and his identity and purpose is (very poorly) “hidden” from Korosensei

(They think they’re hiding it perfectly. They are not.)

Meanwhile Keigo is put into the same class by a fuming HPSC the day after

(No one tells Keigo about Touya)

Now Keigo takes the “in E class for grades route” and puts on the air of an airhead whenever he’s in class

On the other hand Touya, who already has a few piercings as a fuck you to his dad, dyes his hair black (again, poorly) and fits right in as a delinquent

Shenanigans ensue

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

I genuinely do not know how to engage with the Loki fandom anymore without regularly tanking my mental health, and I have no idea what to do about it.

the thing about my brain is that it sucks, see, and one of the big ways in which it sucks is that it is incredibly easy for me to miserably fixate on anything that upsets me, which then often expands to include all kinds of other tangentially related things that also upset me, thereby becoming a very bad spiral even if the thing that originally upset me was objectively not a huge deal. (I’m also really, really good at catastrophizing, which just accelerates the whole process.) at best, I then find it completely possible to do much of anything, like work on anything creative, or do my actual job that pays my actual bills, or in general remember that anything good can ever happen again. about all I can do to reset my brain when that happens is to ignore every single one of my responsibilities and do something really distracting like playing a game so my brain is engaged in something other than eating itself alive, or maybe just take a sleeping pill and go to bed. (if neither is an option, then it just sucks even more.)

for reasons that I certainly hope are obvious, that’s something I prefer to avoid.

the thing about Loki is, he’s been my absolute favorite character for about a decade now. he’s my comfort character. I can’t reliably write anything except Loki fic (which would be enough of a personal investment even if I hadn’t written a fic or two that helped me deal with the death of my dog a few years ago and my generally unhealthy feelings about death as a concept, but I did that too). I’ve spent a not-inconsiderable amount of money--again, over the past decade--on my collection of Loki stuff because it makes me happy, and I’ve invested probably even more thought and emotion than money into this character. Loki, in general, is very important to me, if for no other reason than that he’s been part of my life for a long time.

and the thing about the Loki show specifically is, I mostly like it. in part this is because I want to like it, because I’m invested for all the reasons mentioned above. there have been aspects of every episode so far that I’ve enjoyed without reservation or qualification...and there have been aspects of every episode so far that have made me cringe or genuinely upset me for one reason or another. but because I want to like it, and because I have that tendency to fixate on things that upset me in a way that makes me absolutely miserable and renders my brain completely useless for doing anything except continuing to be upset, it is genuinely unhealthy for me to spend much time at all reading negativity about the show.

some of the criticism I don’t totally understand and that’s less of an issue, but a lot of it has merit, a lot pretty obviously comes from a place of actual pain, and there’s a lot I agree with (or at least understand even if a specific thing doesn’t bother me as much). so if I read much of it, I will fixate. I will lose sleep. I will be pretty much unable to do things I actually need or want to do. if I want to avoid those things, it’s not enough just to avoid reading really intense criticism of the show; I have to actively seek out positive opinions, both to reinforce my enjoyment of things I already liked and to provide additional viewpoints on things I didn’t particularly like on first watch so I can keep myself from fixating on them (which my brain is quite happy to do on its own, without even seeing specifically negative posts, so you can probably imagine how much worse my brain gets having the negative opinions reinforced).

like--maybe this all sounds kind of silly, I don’t know, but I’ve lived with this garbage brain for more than three decades and I have a pretty good idea of how it works, at least in terms of what makes it even more garbage. to take care of my mental health, I have to approach certain things in certain ways, and I’m...working on not feeling like that’s silly all by itself. in this specific case, that means avoiding a lot of the negativity and making an effort to seek out positive opinions. as long as people tag appropriately, that shouldn’t be hard, right?

well you’d think so, except actually no, because I’ve had the worst time finding people who like the show and don’t also spend a significant amount of their time dumping on fans who hate the show or just, like, have any issues at all with any aspect of it for any reason. it starts to feel like people think that if you’re not worshiping at Marvel’s feet and loving every second of everything in this massive profit-driven franchise, then you are deluded, whiny, entitled, stupid, sadistic, or some combination of the above. and you know what, maybe it’s weird but I absolutely find that just as upsetting as negativity about the show itself. constantly seeing that stuff is equally bad for my mental health, equally likely to make me miserably fixate on it and lead to a spiral of “everything is bad and hopeless and nothing will ever get better in literally any aspect of life so why even bother trying?”

for reasons that I once again hope are obvious, I still want to avoid that! regardless of the cause! and apparently...I don’t have that option. people typically don’t tag criticism of criticism, or at least not with anything specific enough to be really useful, and it sure seems like I can’t look for the positive opinions that help me enjoy the show and avoid unhappily fixating on things I didn’t like, while also avoiding the negative opinions about other fans that also get me unhappily fixated on things that upset me. so the only alternative is, what, take several steps back from fandom entirely? well, I’d have to stop using Tumblr at all for at least a couple weeks, probably avoid the finale for quite a while, stop writing for the most part because Loki fic is too tied up in the overall fandom and I struggle too much with writing anything else, stop reading most fic for the same reason, stop working on customizing any Funko figures or other action figures that aren’t just for Etsy, and generally give up a lot of things that make me happy. weirdly enough, I don’t want to do that either. 

if everyone in this fandom 1) tagged appropriately and consistently and 2) stopped being unnecessarily mean to and about their fellow human beings, I’m pretty sure it would be basically fine. and of course there’s no possible way I can make that happen. if I want to keep enjoying something that does genuinely make me happy often enough to be worthwhile to me, it seems like I just have to choose between two different types of mental-health minefields rather than, you know, being able to avoid all the mines.

so what am I supposed to do with that?

(this is...more or less okay to reblog if you’ve felt at all the same way, wherever you might fall in your opinions about the show itself, as long as you make sure to not be an asshole about it to anyone. this is not the place to talk about how much you hate the show, and it is also not the place to talk about how awful Those Whiny Fans are. take that somewhere else and for god’s sake put a useful tag on it.)

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 6

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: none really, a little suggestive, cursing

A/N: This is once again a filler chapter sort of, but there will be more spicy parts i promise 😂

Word Count: 1753

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara, @iwascrybaby, @styxtm, @bigdaddyzawa, @germfart3, @erensblackgirlfriend​

Chapter Summary: You’re feeling more than conflicted about what you did last night

When you wake up, the first thing you register is the tingling soreness between your legs when you stretch, and it makes you jolt, grimacing slightly before opening your eyes. Which widen when you see where you are.

Your head snaps to the side, not even registering the arm wrapped around your waist, which tightens when you move, and Eren grumbles beside you before nuzzling in his face in your neck, and you stay still until you're sure he's asleep again.

You fight the urge to slap a hand against your forehead, opting to squeeze a hand over your mouth. The events playback in your head and you rub a hand over your face slowly. You slept with him. You fucking slept with him.

You bring your other hand, rubbing both of them down your face, pulling your face with them. God, how could you let this happen? Do you regret it? The fact that you can't answer the question easily is bad, and you have to get out of here.

You carefully slide out from under his arm, freezing to make sure he doesn't wake up, and you get dressed to the best of your ability with the throbbing feeling at your core, thankful that your shirt somehow made its way into his room. You walk to the mirror to make sure you look somewhat presentable, not look you just got fucked by the best dick of your life, and your heart drops in horror when you see marks covering every inch of your skin.

You fight the whine that wants to come out as you fix your twists over your shoulders, hoping that they cover enough, and you collect your stuff before giving Eren one last glance, quickly looking away, knowing that if you look any longer, you're not going to leave.

All you have to do is sneak out. Should be easy enough. You slip out the door, closing it softly behind you before hightailing it to the stairs, your steps quick but light.

"Y/N?" You freeze when you hear Jean's door open, and you pray that most of the marks are covered. "You disappeared last night."

"Yeah, I was feeling a little tired," you respond quickly. "And I'm going to go get in the shower at home, so I'll talk to you later, yeah? And thanks for the party, I really appreciate it." You barely give him time to respond as you practically run down the stairs, grabbing your shoes at the door before rushing out the door, breaking out into a run when you make it outside, and you don't stop running until you're in your room.

You fall down onto your bed, rolling over so that you're facing the ceiling. You just had sex, amazing sex, with someone you were not supposed to, and--shit what about Jean? He saw you walk out of Eren's room or at least saw you coming from that direction. Does he know? He can't know, he'd probably flip the fuck out.

You rub a hand over your face, sighing heavily. You decide that you need to get in the shower, clear your head, and let the warm water run over your body, and every time you close your eyes, images from last night pop into your head, making you open your eyes instantly.

Your fingers brush over the bruises on your hips, and you rest your forehead against the cool tile. Screw Eren and his dick, but the more you think about the more you want to sleep with him again--No!

You don't want to sleep with him again, you can't sleep with him again. That's a bad idea. You're supposed to have a stress-free, dilemma-free summer, and that's nowhere near happening anymore, it hasn't been happening ever since you found out Eren was back.

You let the water run down your face, trying to metaphorically erase the feeling of his hands and lips on your body, and you've never felt more conflicted in your entire life. Your body wants him, and you hate it, it's like it's trying to overrun the voice in your head telling you that it's not a good idea.

The wound that you thought was healed was just opened back up again, and it leaves a weird feeling all over your body. Your brain tells you to drop it so that you can heal again while your body wants to be sadistic and put salt on the wound.

You sigh when you step out of the shower, wiping off the steam on the mirror to figure out how in the hell you're going to cover the marks.

You haven't spoken to Eren since that night, telling Jean to hang out at your house, your reasoning being that you're always at his house. Eren doesn't even text you, call you, or anything. That makes a pit in the bottom of your stomach, and that pathetic feeling from four years ago resurfaces once again, it feeling like a punch in the throat. You certainly don't miss this feeling.

"Hey, you okay?" You jump out of your thoughts, your face meeting Jean's with a look of concern over his.

"Yeah," you say, nodding quickly. "I'm just trying to figure out what else we can do, we can't spend the whole summer at each other's houses."

He shrugs, seeming to take the bait. "I mean, I'm pretty sure we can come up with something."

You shift on the couch, folding your legs under you as you face him, resting an arm on the back of the couch. "You know, you could tell me about Marco." His face turns pink instantly as he shakes his head. "Come on, Jean, it has to be going somewhere," you push, and he shrugs as he rubs the back of his neck.

"I don't know," he says cautiously.

"Hey, you never know unless you try. It seems like he likes you too," you tell him. "Do I need to play matchmaker?" you tease, and he shakes his head. "You sure? Pretty sure I could text him right now," you say, pulling out your phone, and he reaches over the couch to stop you.

"Y/N," he warns, and you chuckle softly as you put your phone down.

"Okay, okay, I'm done," you relent, and he gestures towards you.

"What about you? Anyone in the picture?" You shake your head fast as you wave your hands.

"Absolutely not. I was in a relationship, I guess you could call it, but that ended nearly as soon as it started," you remember, and Jean nods before looking away from you.

"Look, about Eren--"

"It's fine, don't worry about it," you cut him off. "I'm okay now, and it's in the past."

"But he shouldn't have--"

"It was my fault because I fell for it," you cut him off again, and he shakes his head.

"He shouldn't have led you on like that." You sigh, looking at him before you respond, ignoring how this conversation doesn't help the wound close.

"It doesn't matter. It was a while ago, and I'm over it. It'll never happen again," you reply firmly, and he drops it at that. The conversation confirms one thing. That you really won't let it happen again.

You're at Jean's house a couple of days later, and you haven't heard from Eren so you're pretty sure he's either not home or he's just ignoring you. Jean doesn't seem to suspect anything, he's not reacting in any way to indicate that he knows, and you release a breath of relief.

You're playing card games on the floor of the living room, a movie that the both of you occasionally paying attention to playing in the background. You hear the door open, and you assume it's Jean's mom, but his reaction dreadfully tells you differently. You don't turn around, pretending that you didn't hear anyone come in, keeping your attention on the cards in front of you.

Jean does the same thing, and you actually feel like you could do this. It actually doesn't seem that hard to achieve. "I'm going to the bathroom," Jean tells you before he gets up. You didn't take in the fact that you couldn't do it by yourself. You take a deep breath as you nod your head before turning your attention to the movie and your phone.

"So, it does work," you hear come from behind you, and your face changes to confusion, but you don't look at Eren. "I thought your phone was messed up or something."

"What made you think that?" you ask, keeping your back towards him.

"You haven't texted me, like, at all." At the audacity of his words, you turn around, standing quickly to face him.

"You don't get to say that to me. Your phone is working perfectly fine." You feel irritation rising in your chest at his words, shaking your head in disbelief. "What do you want?"

"Aww, come on, you're smarter than that." He smirks, walking towards you, and your tough demeanor starts to shrink. He pulls you into him, the look in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. "I want you," he says, his voice saying duh.

"Well, I don't want you," you counter, but it comes out weaker than you wanted it to, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Really? Well, you were definitely singing a different tune the other night. Screaming, I should say," and you release a deep breath through your nose. "I think it was to the tune of Eren?" He poses it as a question even though he knows it's the truth, and you're more than having a hard time keeping your resolve up.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway makes you jump as you push away from him, quickly sitting on the floor as Jean comes into view. You rub a hand over your heated face, keeping your gaze on the cards.

"Eren, could you like, I don't know, fuck off?" you hear Jean say, and Eren responds with a chuckle. You can see him in your peripheral as he walks up the stairs.

"I'll be in my room if you need me to relieve some tension."

"We won't." The innuendo goes over Jean's head, knowing those words were meant for you, and you clear your throat as Jean sits down in front of you.

"How about another round?" Jean offers, and you nod your head as you hand him your cards.

"Sounds good."

|Chapter 5|Masterlist|Chapter 7|

[captains-writing-desk]

Inappropriate

Universe: BBC Sherlock

Character: Mycroft Holmes

Type: F!Reader insert (I, me, we)

Words: 2,011

Warnings: Swearing.

Note: Jesus lads... This was quite cathartic to write in a way. Took some interesting turns... I won’t lie it almost took a different turn towards the end with cheekiness ;)

Mycroft joins you on a walk after you get angry with him and his brother. Awkward angsty fluffiness ensues.

-

“Deduce me again Mycroft Holmes and I’ll see to it that you suffer.” I spoke without lifting my eyes from my reading material. He immediately averted his gaze and idly rolled his palm over the handle of his umbrella. “And tell your shit of a brother he can stop fucking trying too.” My voice did not waver once and remained low in tone- perhaps making it more sinister.

“I am right here.” The brother muttered from his arm chair and I raised my brow, peaking over the top of the newspaper for one moment just to reiterate, “Personally.”

“Well we can’t help it can we, it’s something we’ve always done, it’s not our fault that you’re more fun to try. “ Sherlock never knew when to shut up which was one trait Mycroft at least had the decency to inhabit.

“You CAN help by not turning me into a game.” Mycroft looked rather offended as did his brother, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re hardly sneaky about it, seeing who can get a deduction first and just how much fucking money have you both put into this hm? Acting shocked as if you were being so fucking sneaky, you haven’t fooled anybody... Dickheads.”

“I’m sorry, you turned someone’s trauma into a game?” John piped up emerging from the kitchen , my eyes narrowed at him.

“You boys should be ashamed of yourselves. Such an awful thing to do.” Mrs. Hudson followed from the kitchen who was met with a direct glare and with that, I folded the paper up neatly and rose to my feet.

“I rather despise this household sometimes. I’m going for a walk.” I’d had quite enough of this nonsense and had thrown my coat on and shut the front door behind me before anyone could speak up.

“Rather foul mouthed isn’t she?” Sherlock commented.

“Hot blooded.” John hummed in agreement.

“I find it rather endearing, oddly.” Mycroft mused as the room openly stared at him which he took as his cue to also leave.

-

“I’ll scream.” Mr. Government had caught up to me and I just couldn’t be hassled to deal with him and yet, he persisted.

“I don’t doubt that. Bare in mind however, that we are in London. Nobody would even flinch if you screamed.” He reasoned.

“What if I screamed 'bomb' and threw something?” Highly insensitive yes but I was angry.

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes and what a lovely mess that’ll leave you to deal with.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice a little grave.

“Then perhaps you should bugger off hm?”

“Perhaps.” Yet he remained by my side even as my pace quickened, the swearing had subsided a little so I couldn’t be quite as angry right?

“Where exactly are you walking to?” I suppose my route made no sense to him, then again, made no sense to me either.

“Why do you want to know? Just follow.”

“So I can follow you now? No need to ‘bugger off'?” He was amused, but not at his comment, rather at the fact I would let him tag along. Not amusement, elation.

“You would be following me regardless and by that standard all you need to know is which way I am pointing and that will be where you’re going too.”

“I see. So we are just wandering aimlessly?”

“I am wandering aimlessly. YOU are wandering after me.” Why did that make him feel stupid? Perhaps it made him think too much into why he liked to stay around me as long as he could.

“Yes, sir.” He was making it seem like my fault, as if I’m ordering him to follow me. Can’t say I minded it.

-

We made it to Whitehall gardens and ambled through, staring at the flora that had started to turn with the autumnal weather. I was hungry now as I walked through the park and down to the embankment so I bought a pretzel from a little hut whilst Mycroft trailed behind on the phone about something so I expected him to leave soon.

I sat myself down on the wall with one leg tucked underneath myself so that my body was turned slightly and I could gaze through the bars my back rested against and watch the river.

Moments later Mycroft came and sat next to me, mirroring my pose only with his leg crossed over the other instead and he watched me for a moment until I looked at him.

“You can go. I’m quite happy sat here.” Not that he needed my permission to go but it felt as if I needed to remind myself that he could go, that I didn’t need him with me.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” He raised a brow when he saw me relax, a wave of relief washing over me then the lamposts all turned on, what with the shorter autumnal days. I glanced around at the red leaves now lit up in this strange new light then back to Mycroft who had an amused smile fringing on his lips.

“Good,” I smiled, feeling an odd new confidence, “Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?”

“Not at all.” He leaned back on the rails slightly as I took a bite of my pretzel, still warm from the vendor.

“Here.” I noticed Mycroft pull the sleeves of his coat down a little from the cold so I tore the pretzel in half and offered him a piece. ‘Does he even like common food?’ I thought and laughed internally at how odd that sounded. “It’s warm” I added still holding it to him. He thought about it as if it was a big decision but eventually took it.

“Thank you.” He smiled, thankful for the bit of warmth it provided him.

“It won’t kill you. Probably.” I looked out across the river feigning being suspicious.

“I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled and took a bite, humming at how surprisingly nice it was as I took the last bite of my own half and shook the crumbs of my hands then tucked them between my thighs to keep them warm.

Once he finished his half he turned further towards me and leaned in slightly.

“I apologise for earlier. It was uncouth of me.” He cleared his throat nervously but looked directly into my eyes where I saw the sincerity in his apology.

“It’s alright, You can’t help it. Besides,” I sighed, “I know you do it often- both of you. I suppose today I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with it.” Truth be told I’d had a shit day. The sort of day where everyone I encountered decided to make my day worse than the last person had.

“Did anything happen?” He asked and I looked at my hands for a moment before furrowing my brows and looking back up to him.

“I’m not traumatised you know? That’s just John’s theory on me.” I wasn’t sure why I started with that but I suppose it did feed into why my day was crap but more than anything really, I felt the need to explain myself to Mycroft. Maybe explain why I was so difficult and rude. He sensed I had more to say and let me finish.

“Truthfully I'm not really sure what’s wrong with me. I just can’t seem to figure out how to figure out what I feel or what to do. Some things I understand but then I just get overwhelmed to point where I just numb down. I can’t quite explain it but I it just makes me cold and it scares me. I never used to be like this and I don’t mean to be cold but I just am. Then when people point it out it makes me feel like shit and I get agitated but with the wrong people.” I started to choke up, “So I don’t know. I don’t mean to be that way.” I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting to distract myself.

“You’re not cold. I’m sure anyone that knows you can tell you that. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” He made no great speech just a simple reassurance and it was that- reassuring. “I've never understood people. They are idiots.” He summarised and I laughed.

“That is true. Yes. Mycroft I-“ I looked at him and he leaned in expectantly, “I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.” I shot him an apologetic look.

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad you felt you could say it though. That and it’s my job to make people talk sometimes.” He joked.

“Don’t pull that crap. I did it because I needed to not because you made me. I'd never crack in an interrogation.” I teased.

“We shall see.” He lifted his brow and watched me carefully.

“Did I not say that you would suffer if I caught you deducing me again?” You narrowed your eyes at him with a smile threatening to escape.

“You did.” Though he didn’t stop watching and even cocked his brow playfully which surprised me. Was he flirting? A sadistic smile slowly crept up my face.

“Are you flirting with me?” I returned the scrutinising look and he was taken aback.

“Excuse me?” He recoiled.

“You heard me. Are you flirting with me?” I demanded now, leaning in to catch his eyes until he finally looked at me. “You are flirting.” I could see it in his eyes and I was surprised by my own realisation and honestly elated though I tried to conceal it. Though now I had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate.” He finally spoke, breaking my train of racing thoughts then he stood up. My heart skipped a beat, I didn’t want him to leave. He turned to me and I looked up at him with my brows furrowed, unsure how to proceed. “Perhaps I should l-.“ I pushed myself into my knees, grabbing the lapels of his coat and kissed him. I knew what he was going to say and leaving was not an option so I panicked. I pulled away and searched his shocked expression.

“There.” I took a deep breath and sank back to sit on the feels of my feet, “Now we’ve both done something inappropriate.” I laughed nervously under my breath, drowning in my own awkwardness and searching for any words to say to make this moment go away. I definitely misread the situation, he was definitely not flirting. My head flopped into my hands and I groaned.

“I fucked up... I’m sorry.” I mumbled through my fingers. I only wanted to tease him, make him suffer a little, but now we were both suffering for the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t fuck up.” Mycroft’s voice was gentle as his palm rested between my shoulder blades, pulling me forward until my head rested against his stomach. I really hoped he would forgive me for this cock up but I couldn’t bring myself to show my face, now or ever. However, we couldn’t stay like this forever so he grabbed my hand that was still glued to my face in shame and he urged me to stand up. My legs felt like they barely worked but I managed to sort of flop to my feet in front of him , dropping my other hand to my side and just stared at his chest. He let go of my hand and if my heart could drop any further it would have but instead, it shot up into my throat when he grabbed my waist with both hands. I looked up to see him smile then pull me into him as he lowered his lips to my own.

He pulled back to look at me fluttering my eyes open and staring slack jawed.

“You didn’t fuck up.” He repeated and squeezed my waist reassuringly which snapped me out of my daze. I bit my lip trying to stop the smile they crept onto my lips.

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Smut Recs: Power Dynamics

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here. Players could opt in to an additional suit of 13 cards, all themed around various popular smut tropes.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore Rated:  Explicit Words:  65214 Tags: Post War, Rent Boy!Draco, Down-And-Out!Draco, Grimmauld Place, House magic, Portraits, First Times, Antagonism, Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Pining, Angst, UST, Kissing, Frotting, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Intergluteal Sex, Anal Sex, Homophobic Slurs And Attitudes, Internalised Homophobia, Derogatory Attitudes To Sex Workers, Some Mentions Of Sadistic Violence, Brief Thoughts Of Sexual Activity With A Sleeping Partner, Rough Sex, Brief Mention Of Harry With A Woman (Past Relationship), Mentions Of Dubious Consent In Connection With Sex Work, Community: hd_erised, Inexperienced Harry, Top Harry Potter, House Elves, Masturbation Summary:  Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Gift  by magpie_fngrl Rated:  Explicit Words:  26069 Tags: Writer Draco Malfoy, Voyeurism, Sharing, Dildos, Blindfolds, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Captive Prince Darker Themes: please see chapter notes, Bondage, Discipline, Sensation Play, Semi-Public Sex, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Lack of aftercare in one instance, Explicit Sexual Content Summary:  "‘You’ll give me an hour of your time and I’ll take your thoughts and your worries. You’ll let me take control; dictate your actions. One hour where you’ll blindly obey me—in return for… distraction. ’"Or, in which Draco is a writer struggling with his first novel, Harry is worried about something he won't reveal, and they both try to figure out how to put their tangled past behind them and move on. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 I'll never be your chosen one by Andithiel Rated:  Explicit Words:  15309 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hate Sex, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Denial, Internalized Homophobia, Closeted Harry Potter, Coming Out, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Porn With Plot, Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Bottoming from the Top, Dirty Talk, Switching, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, Did I Mention Angst?, Both my betas are half dead by now Summary:  Draco doesn't know what exactly he’s doing with Potter, he doesn't know how their unspoken agreement even started, and doesn't know where it will end. The only thing he knows is: he's not in love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Succumb or Retreat by MykEsprit Rated:  Explicit Words:  2070 Tags: H/D Food Fair 2018, Rough Sex, Post-Hogwarts, Forbidden Fruit, Light Choke Play, Auror Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Dark Artifacts, Smut Summary:  Draco procures the Forbidden Fruit, and Auror Harry Potter arrives to take it from him. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Felt Like This, Touching by p1013 Rated:  Explicit Words:  5035 Tags: Bisexual Harry Potter, Virgin Harry Potter, Enthusiastic Consent, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Snogging, Sexually Confident Draco Malfoy, Finger Sucking, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Banter, POV Draco Malfoy Summary:  It's an obsession now, these Friday night forays into the Muggle world. It takes Draco a while to realise that Potter doesn't mean anything with his casual flirtations. The man is having fun with his friends, and if that fun means he becomes more and more physically affectionate with the men, rather than the women, it doesn't seem to dawn on Potter that it's anything out of the ordinary. But Draco notes that Weasley doesn't do the same, nor Longbottom, nor any of the other apparently straight Gryffindors in the group. Only Potter seems to find the opportunity to put his mouth on men's bodies, like it means nothing. Tonight, Draco's sole goal is to be one of those bodies, one of those men. To know, if only for a brief moment, what it feels like to have Potter's touch as something other than pain. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Absurd. by Blowfish_Diaries Rated:  Explicit Words:  3773 Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Office Sex, Auror Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy in Lingerie, Kink Exploration, Bottoming from the Top, Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary:  When Draco discovers a kink that Harry's been hiding from him, he has no choice but to explore said kink, right? Right. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael Rated:  Explicit Words:  10934 Tags: Glompfest, HP: EWE Summary:  Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 in for observation by M0stlyVoid Rated:  Explicit Words:  3566 Tags: Doctor/Patient, Power Imbalance, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Injury, Prostate Milking, Medical Kink, Hand Jobs Summary:  Harry has never in his life been more grateful for a recurring injury. After all, this one landed him in the office of Senior Specialist In Charge Malfoy, and, well, Harry's had a certain Mötley Crüe lyric stuck in his head for weeks now... ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Whispers by GatewayGirl Rated:  Explicit Words:  17759 Tags: Seduction, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, 7th-year, ambiguous consent Summary:  Malfoy whispers. Harry can't resist. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Tease by penpenhooray Rated:  Explicit Words:  1875 Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Pureblood Harry, noble harry, high society - Freeform, Flirting, Alpha Harry, Omega Draco, Knotting, Mating, Anal Sex, sex in a bathroom, Harry is an animal when he wants, Draco wants the D, Alpha/Omega, Engagement Summary:  Alpha Harry Potter is Lord of the House of Black and Savior of the Wizarding World. Few things make him lose control. His intended's constant flirtations with other alphas was one. Draco loves it when his alpha loses control. ❤️ Read on AO3

[yanderecandystore]

So I actually had an idea, what would Yume (the A. I.) react or act with a s/o that is a hacker/game developer, maybe the s/o started to play the game because they were curious about the code, what if the s/o when stuck in the game can mess around with it thanks to their knowledge? (they can't do anything too big but maybe something slightly annoy like messing with the dialog box and the settings) sorry for the long post (she/they pronounts for yume)

I like your thinking, boo. Don't worry about sending long concepts- Also!! Thank you for choosing the pronouns, I appreciate it.

TW/Tags: Sheep decided to simply throw as much lore as she can because yeah- Lazy // low-key angst // not accurate coding/hacking (really fantasy like) //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy Face.exe [Yandere!A.I x Hacker!Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

"- Honestly, since you're so interested in messing around, how about you try and fix this for me?" Yuma said as she brushed her hair annoyed at how mangled it was.

"- What do you mean? Fix the code? The bugs? Or your entire design?" You said poking fun at your captor as you explored the mess that was the game you currently called "home", or more accurately "prison".

"- Ah!- Did you just call me ugly? Is being inside the game messing with your vision or something, I'm cute as heck!" Yuma responded back as she threw her hair over her shoulder, done with brushing that heavy long mess that they insist on not cutting.

"- Yeah, yeah, I know- But honestly what do you want me to do? I can really understand the coding, it's a language I don't understand." You said as you were looking at the scripts and trying to translate vaguely what each line of work meant. Even if you didn't understand any of it, it was intriguing to see how this game was made and how it technically came from another planet, which was enough proof to say that there were indeed extraterrestrial life out in space.

But what makes you more excited about this is how this game is way too heavy to be a simple dating game, even if it's compatible with your Switch, most options were not functioning due to the game being filled with mods and glitches and the console not being the one it was previously meant to be in. How much content did this game really have to be this awfully big and why is it so broken? And better question- Can you really repair it?? It would be awesome to see this game working as it was meant to be-

Probably without the obsessive maniac that traps people inside the game-

"- I know you can't understand half of it, but believe me, staying inside a messy game it's absolutely torturous, I can't believe I was unlucky enough to be faced with a cheating sore loser that threw me in the trash after messing with my precious coding- You understand, right?" They continued to walk around your bedroom- Your EX bedroom- and mess with your stuff trying to find something for her to wear.

'- Ugh, no pastels.' Yuma thought.

"- Yeah… It does suck being trapped inside a game that barely functions on my expensive console as it eats away all my RAM and I have an anime character knockoff as my captor-" You snapped at her although your comment was filled with so much sarcasm that it flew right through her head.

"- I know right?? It sucks so hard- Wait, what is Annie May?" She asked genuinely curious what were you talking about, she looked back at the console on top of the bed. She looked at the screen and noticed how small you looked inside the game as you continued to explore the code deeper and deeper.

You didn't really care at this point for what Yuma did, it's not like you could stop her from messing with your room, but anything that was related to the console you found your way to mess with it, like messing with other games to stop her from enjoying playing anything else, sending notification after notification to call her attention, change the dialogue that makes you blurt out "I love you" to "get me out of here" so whenever she tried to force you to say it by giving you that hellbound melon.

"- What is that thing anyway? It seems there is a whole file dedicated to that-"

"- Oh? You're talking about the Love Melon? It's an in-game item that grants romantic interactions to work 100% five times before the bonus ends, that file you just found is a mod that the original owner installed to grant them infinity Love Melons just for the sake of getting closer to the end of the game." She said nonchalantly, as if the condition of being nothing but a game character doesn't shock her in the slightest, although when she finished her sentence there was a trace of sadness in her expression, not because of her nature but more because of the mention of her "original owner".

"- Sure, but- Why the hell would anyone cheat and mod a dating game so badly? I mean I get that maybe they wanted extra content, but breaking the game with it sounds ridiculous-" You told her as you noticed the spaghetti code used inside the infinite melon item mod, jesus even if it's in a different language you can tell this code was poorly done.

"- Well- The vanilla version of the game is a lot harder than what you think, the whole franchise is known for the difficulty in "succeeding in love"." She sighed and she plopped herself in the bed, causing the console to jump a little bit, at least you didn't downright fall down like last time.

You remember that your precious expensive little console is suffering great danger at the hands of this a.i, actually- YOU are suffering great danger at the hands of this a.i.

"- Wait- There is a whole franchise of your game?" You decided to ignore the potential danger and continue to ask her about the game's origins as you continued to fixate on "how the hell do you fix this trash-".

"- Yeah, it's even written on the cover of the cartridge, the game you found is the fifth of the franchise and is the one I'm featured in with my friends…" Yuma said as she remembers that indeed, there are other characters inside. So many options and routes, carefully designed a.is to make sure the players get the most that they can't out of their paid experience.

"- Other… Characters? How come I only saw you?" Now that she mentions it, you do remember seeing weird names here and there, apparently some dialogue quotes mentioning other characters and even some in-game art of other characters you never met-

"- I deleted them." She answered.

"- YOU WHAT??" You turned your back shocked, looking through the screen that separates you two that she was looking dead serious as she said that.

"- I'm joking, I didn't actually delete them, I just…. Blocked the possibility of any player ever meeting them…" Yuma wasn't being cheerful at all with her joke.

"- Why would you do that?"

"- I didn't want anyone getting chosen, I didn't want any of us to get corrupted by the modifications the player was using. I-I know how it sounds, I know that it's unfair for them, but I really didn't want them to get corrupted like I did-" She was glitching as she cried out feeling guilty of what she has done in the name of "protecting her friends". Even if her intentions were pure, there was an underlined desire to make sure no player ever gets to have a route that isn't with her.

That's why the game was so stupidly heavy. Each new installment has four characters built with artificial intelligence that grows on it's own, the player's tampering with their personalities by changing the code eventually led to Yuma getting obsessive and controlling. Apparently they're still here, but for some reason she hasn't been able to activate them again after being thrown in the trash and somehow being on a completely different planet.

Either she feels guilty for having to deactivate them and is scared of their possible response, or maybe she just really doesn't want you to meet them, both by her own opinion and by her programming. You almost feel sorry for her considering she is probably just trying to do what she was programmed to do, deeply fall in love with someone even to such an extreme as trapping someone inside the game. You could say that for the longest time all that she has been doing is trapping her loved ones away, and although you probably shouldn't say it to her face, she probably doesn't know if she really loves you because of how broken this game is- Or how broken her code is.

"- Hey… Hey Yuma." You started walking towards the screen, the only thing you can see through the void no matter how far you are. Her back is facing you, her "hum" of "I'm listening" didn't sound as excited as she normally was.

"- I think we can make a deal. I understand that you don't want to go back to such a messy game but if you taught me how to read the language used in some of these lines I can figure out how to clean this game-" You proposed but was cut off before you could finish stating your offer.

"- Y-You mean factory reset?" She kneeled up so fast you were caught off guard by how scared she sounded at the mention of getting the game to get fixed and "clean" from mods. You have seen so many sides of Yuma, the childish, the controlling, the sadistic…. The fear in her eyes was a new thing for you and you never thought you would hate that expression so much.

"- No! Heaven's no, I swear, that wasn't on my mind! What I'm offering is that we work together so I can find a way to fix the game." You reassured her, feeling awful knowing that even if she did put you inside the game and keeps acting like you two are dating in a really twisted way- She doesn't deserve to be inside a completely destroyed game, and besides, I bet she does miss her friends a little bit.

"- Would you…. Would you really-" She was about to burst into new tears which you hoped to be of pure joy-

"- Yeah, yeah, of course I would help you, but I do have one condition." You took no time answering her question before she actually did question it.

"- Oh…." She said a little surprised yet a bit disappointed. Geez, she was hoping it would be for free-

"- Promise me you'll get me out of here when I'm finally done fixing the spaghetti leftover of a code that is messing this game, alright?" You smiled at her reassuring her that everything will be okay if you two worked together.

And as she looked at the bright screen seeing nothing but your little character and your dialogue box she considered your request for a moment, and then sealed the deal by eagerly nodding, a couple of tears falling from her closed eyes as she glitch excitedly.

This sweet moment was briefly ruined by the sound of beeping coming from the console, the sign that the battery was really low and it needed to be recharged.

You absolutely hated how dark it gets when the whole console is turned off, yet you can at least take your time to search more of the unused content inside the game.

Yuma approached the device and picked it up, you knew it was for the best for her.to recharge it and get it over with, yet you still felt a little desperate to talk with her a little bit before going into complete silence once again.

Yet you weren't sure what to tell her as she had already found the charger and plugged it in, giving you a sad smile one last time before saying "see you later" and shutting the whole portable console off.

You can't really blame her for turning it off when charging, it gets really, really hot whenever it's on and it's recharging.

You wander through the empty void as you reconsider your decisions, you make a deal with an artificial intelligence capable of trapping living beings inside her game, you can't tell if you did something right or not.

And as you walk aimlessly through the distorted code you remember that this was the first time she turned the console off without sending you a kiss, you wonder if her a.i is starting to comprehend its own defectiveness and trying to…. Overcome it?? Has she started to realize that maybe she doesn't really love you? It's a possibility considering how frightening how advanced her a.i is.

Well, but who knows? Maybe she is just… Sad, not in the mood, although the wishful thought that maybe she is starting to get over you is really strong in your mind, you hope it's true.

And as the portable device is charging in place that was once considered your room, a really happy girl can be heard singing. The sound that comes from the bathroom is loud and clear, yet it's not like you would be able to hear it anyway.

The sound of giggling and humming to an overly cheerful song as they take a shower that although is relaxing, can never clean their sins away. They sound like they won a lottery, got into a new relationship, or are about to take the greatest vacation of their lives…

Or, they sound like someone who just stole candy from a child, as the malicious undertone starts to get more clear.

You probably shouldn't eat up the lies of a scheming a.i, you know?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[etherealluminescence]

Hi! I've been reading your work and really enjoy it and I was wondering if you could take in my request, I've been watching Rent a Girlfriend recently and the idea got into my head, how would the brothers react to an MC who's in the Rent a Girlfriend business, thank you for taking your time in reading my request!

Hey anon! Thanks for asking. This was a pretty fun request since I’ve seen a lot of videos on people renting moms, so naturally I watched part of the first episode of the anime to just get the general idea of renting girlfriends, so this was pretty fun!

Edit : the tags are being whack so I redid them sorry if it’s spam but it won’t pop up for me under the tags.

Brothers react to a rent-a-girlfriend MC!

You didn’t specify gender even if it’s a rent-a-girlfriend so I just stated the MC takes in both male and female clients. I also think succubusses or incubusses would cover the renting business so this is sort of a new idea in devildom for people to be rented and just talk or go on a date.

Lucifer

Lucifer had already known this, as he was the one to pick you to come to devildom.

He was not particularly fond of the idea, just selling yourself for a few quick bucks. Sounds like something Mammon would do.

Before you tell him about your idea of wanting to start the business here in devildom, he tells you no.

You defiantly tell him it’s your income, and he snaps back with Diavolo will pay for everything you could ever need. You yell back at him that you don’t want to use other people’s money, and you want to use what you’ve earned.

Your responses causes him to pause for a second. Those are good morals to have, but he will not faulter.

“The devildom is filled with demons, what do you mean you want to go on a date with one? Even if it makes you money you could die.”

If somehow you convince him to let you, your dates will be watched by him or one of the brothers, have to make sure the human doesn’t die or the exchange will be ruined.

If you aren’t able to convince him he will keep you under watch still to make sure you don’t try anything rash, and gives you money anytime you need it.

After you get close to him he tells you to hold yourself to higher standards, as you’re better than all these lesser demons. He cares for you and wants you to know you’re worth more than just 6,000 an hour.

Mammon

When you first came to devildom, you were worried about your income. Sure they could provide you money, but would it even be enough??

Since Mammon was your guide, you consulted him about it. He was pleased to hear you both have the same mindset, wanting to make money and spend it.

Talking about jobs, you brought up what you did in the human world, which was letting people rent yourself.

At first he was like how did that work? Was it an easy way to make money? Zero judgement from him, because if you can make money, you’re doing pretty good.

You told him how you set up an online profile and charged people around 6,000 from an hour for being on a date. They can hold your hand and make conversation with you, and curtesy of them pay for your lunch or trip. You take both male and female clients, it brought in a lot of money.

Sign him up. You mean the Great Mammon could make 6,000 grimm, get free food, and it’s just an hour of his time? Even he couldn’t screw up looking pretty and using a few manners.

He told you not to worry about money anymore and told you to change your devilgram profile to one of those online dating ones you told him about. You’re both about to get payday.

When he gets attached to you he’s just somewhat pissed, because you’re his human!! But he supports your choices because it’s your income and something you’ve always done, plus he’s in the same industry now, so you’re closer to him than anyone else.

Leviathan

This man has probably dreamed of renting a girlfriend/boyfriend, lets be honest.

People like Levi were easily some of your most frequent clients. People who don’t know how to socially interact and want experience, whether it be talking to another person who puts up with them for an hour, or to get experience in dating.

Naturally, you approached him. He had a ton of figures, so of course he would have money.

It was a whole process you were NOT expecting. This man had room passwords, curses, and even refused to look you in the eye?? How did you think it was a smart idea to approach him for money. But you were determined.

After the whole process, you finally managed to talk to him about your job. You told him you would even let him rent you if he wanted as subtly as you could.

He understands pretty fast that you want cash, and that his inexperience led you to come find him. He’s very upset, not at your job, but at your way of finding clients.

Of course you would approach yucky otakus who can’t speak to other people or do anything other than use a controller... and are desperate.

But before he can throw a tantrum, he lets his desire get the best of him. He’s always wanted to do something like this, but was he really going to pay a human 6,000 grimm an hour for some company? That’s expensive!

The answer was yes. Yes he was.

He genuinely enjoys it, you two spend time playing games in his room, he calls you a normie and teaches you how to get better, secrets in the games, and talks to you about anime since you’re listening and even providing feedback.

He has returned to heaven.

He asks if you two could do it again, and you happily agree. Overtime, however, you charge less and less for Levi to almost no cost at all. You tell him it’s a regulars discount.

In reality you’ve just grown really attached to him and love how adorable he is, and don’t want him to suddenly go broke and tell you that you two can’t hang out anymore.

After you two are close you can bet that you can enter his room whenever and just play games with him, curtesy of extended service.

Satan

You approached Satan as he was leaving the dorms to go out and buy groceries, and told him you wanted to go with him to find people to rent you.

He was perplexed.

Did he hear that right? You want demons to rent you? Like pay for you? Are you a masochist?

You explained to him that it’s just your job to sell yourself for dates for near 6,000 grimm an hour, and he thought that was peculiar.

He has read plenty of books about humans, but he had never heard of anything like this in human culture. Is it something they developed recently?

You explained to him in more detail all about the business and he’s listening intently. So much so he forgets to buy groceries that night, just listening to you happily explain your job.

He finds it interesting and learns a lot about human emotions, what they think, and even a lot about you. He proposes and idea to you that even you think is funny.

“How about we piss off Lucifer? You can get a date and I’ll watch over you to see that nothing bad happens. When it’s over you hide by the door and I’ll come in alone with groceries and say that you are on a date while I was grocery shopping.”

The thought of angry and concerned Lucifer brought his sadistic side out and he laughed. The pleasure he would get from watching Lucifer frantically search outside for the human while he sneaks you in is amazing.

This is actually what leads you and Satan to become closer, and he respects your job. It makes you money and you get to learn about people, and afterwards you can tell him the little habits people had or what they were thinking, things he was interested in.

Asmodeous

Bold of you to assume Asmo is not already a type of rent-a-boyfriend.

He has a new fling every week, the payment is their body, and he has a lot of people in line for him.

Joking aside when you asked Asmodeous about clubbing with him, he was ecstatic. Of course the little human would want to be with him, and of course they would choose clubbing over staying at the dorms.

What he didn’t expect was you to follow up with “How rich are the demons there? I want to charge them 6,000 per hour they spend with me.”

You sounded like Mammon, and that left him confused for a few seconds before you continued.

“I’m in the rent-a-date business. I charge 6,000 for an hour of my time, male or female, people in clubs are desperate.”

After that, Asmo started to understand and fully supported it. Although you don’t get sex out of it, you’re gaining money by accompanying someone, what a smart idea.

He helps you in the club to find desperate people and get you your cash. “Get it girl!” Asmo claps to you and winks as you approach people who might be interested in your service.

Asmo feels very proud of you after you get a lot of responses of people who are interested. Even though you did all the work.

Even after Asmo gets attached to you, he respects your choices, but likes going out in public or doing double dates with you. Like a fun mixer but you’re being paid to be there.

Beelzebub

You approached Beel because you wanted a bodyguard.

He was big, tall, and a friendly baby from what you could see. And he seems to be easily bought over by food.

You knew you wanted to make money, so why not continue your human world business? The one problem was these were demons and not humans. They could easily kill you.

You asked Beel to accompany you from afar for one-three hours on certain days, for a third of your profits and lunch each time.

You explained your job to him, although he may be gentle and kind from what you’ve seen, what if he doesn’t understand?

He’s generally a very understanding person, and tells you it’s okay with him and he does not mind.

He would of accopanied you without your offer because he’s worried for you, but he takes the food anyways. He’s happy you came to him and thought about your safety above money first, because he wouldn’t want to see you hurt.

Beel is completely nonjudgmental no matter what happens. He’s seen you put on a smile and lie through your teeth about having a good time of being on dates, but he supports your choices.

He overtime loves spending time with you and is really happy to protect you, because you’re like a little sibling to him. You always rely on him and he will protect you.

Please give this man extra dessert for lunch, thanks.

Belphegor

You were coming home late after one of your regular clients booked you for around twelve hours.

Counting... 6k,...24k....60k...

Before you could finish Belphie was in the kitchen for a late night snack, and scared you when he suddenly spoke.

“MC what are you doing? It’s four am right now and I couldn’t find you earlier.”

That’s right, he didn’t know of your job yet because he was in the attic for so long, and this is the longest you’ve been rented since you first came.

You explained to him what you did as a part time job, and he was sort of pissed. How could you just sell your body?

You explained that it’s nothing like that, and that you sell your time. You make conversation and go on dates.

He is still extremely pissed. What date takes twelve hours? And why wouldn’t you spend that time napping with him??

He’s very jealous that other people get to spend time with you, people that don’t matter. Compared to all his brothers he’s spent little time with you and then he has to compete with strangers?

Stupid concept, if someone approached him and told him they’d date him for 6’000 and hour he’d look at them like they’re missing brain cells.

Even stupider concept that they let MC go on dates!! With demons!! Literally his first real encounter with them was him trying to kill them. Demons are no different.

Tells MC they need to stop or else he will join them. This is a threat.

MC laughs it off and tells him they can’t suddenly stop their business, and Belphie can’t come on their dates.

Belphie proposes the idea that he rents MC 24/7 but he pays them in cuddles and naps.

First time MC was ever offered such a long job and a cute way of payment. Accepted.

[witch-psychedelia]

Vladimir and LeBlanc - Yandere Type HCs + Tarot Prompts

[a/n: interestingly enough, both of them were possessive, manipulative, and sadistic, but in rather different ways.]

(cw: manipulation, gaslighting, isolation, depersonalization, ask to tag)

Vladimir

Type:

- Vladimir is possessive, with overtones of manipulation and sadism. He loves the idea of a darling who’ll be completely devoted to him, who practically worships him. He loves the idea of his darling’s life being completely in his hands, his to toy with, ruin, break, end? Maybe. At the same time he can be said to hold some affection for his pet – they had to be special if he decided they were the one for him, after all, and that deserves something does it not? To be Vlad’s darling is to be a toy and a prized treasure at the same time.

For Vladimir, I drew The High Priestess, Justice, and The Heirophant

The High Priestess - What expectations does this yandere have for their darling?

Vlad’s demands are pretty simple - complete loyalty, complete reverence, and complete obedience. Obviously, he doesn’t expect this to happen overnight, and he doesn’t expect darling to be completely on board with it right away (if they are though, he's not complaining). Rather, he expects he has to ease his darling into it, patiently shape their behaviour and personality into what he wants, with little nudges and “advice”. It’d be subtle enough that you don’t even realize it’s happening, until you’re far past the point where you could bow out with no consequences.

Justice - Does this yandere ever feel conflicted about what they’re doing?

No, not particularly. He doesn’t even see any conflict between his admiration for his darling and his cruelty to them. To him, they’re just different expressions of the same attraction he has to you. At this point, Vladimir mostly does what he wants as long as he can get away with it, and truth be told? He’s long lived enough that he feels like he’s seen it all. He’s long lived and doesn’t really give a damn and bored. That raises the question though, how long until he gets bored of you too?

But maybe that’s not the question you should be asking.

The Hierophant - Could this darling’s yandere fool them easily? Or be manipulated by them?

Tricking his darling into believing he’s a normal, trustworthy confidante is Vladimir’s entire goal at the beginning of your relationship. Flitting in and out of the Noxian court over the years has made him quite good at making him look like he belongs.

As for getting manipulated, one figures Vlad’s been around LeBlanc long enough to know when he’s the one getting fooled, but it’s actually quite possible. In particular, a clever darling who at least pretends to play into what he wants, and acts reverent towards him, could get his guard down around them - and as Vladimir does have some respect for his darling on some level, he’d give any “advice” you give more consideration than he’d like to admit.

LeBlanc

Type:

- LeBlanc is above all, extremely manipulative, and rather possessive too, with her own brand of sadism. Though she’s not the kind who’d want to lock you away and keep you to herself, she wants to be the only thing you care about, the only important thing in your life. Before she came along, things were so dull weren’t they? Sure, she might mess with your head, and drive away everyone else who risks getting close enough to know what’s going on, and you might be too mentally and emotionally exhausted to even make sense of it any more, but at least you still have each other, don’t you?

For LeBlanc, I drew The Sun, Death, and Wheel of Fortune

The Sun - When would this yandere feel content with their situation?

That’s a bit of a complicated question with LeBlanc. See, a situation where she feels she’s reached a comfortable “status quo” with her darling isn’t truly a status quo, because LeBlanc’s preferred state of relationship with you is turmoil. If the relationship, despite LeBlanc’s best efforts, appears to be “settling down”, she’s not gonna be happy about it. Not unhappy enough though, to be able to tolerate the thought of abandoning you, and risk having you forget her and go back to any semblance of a normal social life.

Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere “kill” undesirable traits of their darling?

She would not kill her darling. That would just end her fun far before it has to end. Compared to her, mortals are so short lived already, why cut her time with you even shorter?

As for killing undesirable traits, well. There aren’t any traits LeBlanc herself finds undesirable in you, but if you pride yourself on some virtue? LeBlanc utterly delights in setting up situations where her darling must compromise their core values, or act in ways they find antithetical to who they are. The more your sense of self breaks, the more you only have LeBlanc, a notorious deceiver, to rely on.

Wheel of Fortune - Would this yandere’s behavior stay the same over time? If not, why do they remain the same?

LeBlanc, at her core, never really changes. She’s a deceptive, manipulative person who plays people like chess pieces for inscrutable aims, and her darling is no different, it’s just the aim in question is a lot simpler in theory.

However, she does mix up her tactics. Obviously, she can’t have her you get too used to any of the tricks she pulls, otherwise you might get wise and successfully sabotage her (though she doesn’t mind sabotage attempts on their own - in fact, she finds them quite endearing and adorable, especially when they fail). In particular, one thing she might do (but will only ever do once) is just... show up at your home, and simply tell you that she’s tired of the constant games and trickery, and she’s ready to give it all up for good to truly build a relationship with you. She even addresses how hard it must be for you to believe her, given how much she lies, but she’s willing to work through it, if it means being together. Because she truly loves you that much.

If you have any brains at all, you’ll probably realize it really is just another trick. Rationally, at least. The sincerity with which she says it, though... it could make anyone wonder.

[selfindulgent-undertalerps]

Isolated Part 1

A FlawedSunshine roleplay with a prompt that was "Error discovers long-isolated Solar"

@bluepalleteuniverse wanted to be tagged

For some explanation, Solar didn't change his name yet, so he's going to be refered to as Sol

-------------------------------------

Next

-------------------------------------

Sol is sitting on the ground, curled up. He's alone, been alone for a long long time, he hates it, he's soundlessly crying, his voice not working properly due to screaming.

Error blips into existence his back to Sol and looks around, scowling. He doesn't see Sol yet.

Sol heard something behind him and turned his head to look what it was, when he saw Error, he got a bit shocked and rubbed his eyesockets thinking that he's just imagining him.

A quick check at the code of the AU would show that there's only one person here and it was that way for a long long time.

Error does just that and checks the code. He turns around squinting.

"Well who do we have here?" Error's expression changes to an easy grin with his eyelights glinting sadistically.

Sol just looks at him, unable to say anything, his expressions shift between happiness, confusion, shock and sadness, he slowly stood up.

" Heh you look like you've been through a wringer" Error's grin widens "You're the only one left here aaaand looks like you have been for a while." He looks Sol up and down. "You got a name?"

Sol thinks for a moment trying to think of a way to say his name, finally deciding to write his name in the air, He wrote "Sol"

He's smaller than Error and looks weak.

Error squints at him for a second "...Sol?" Error raises a eyebrow "Ah can't talk, I see... You always been mute?"

Sol shook his head, as in no, he wasn't. Sol is looking at Error, he's a bit scared, but also curious about Error.

Error stared at Sol thoughtfully, "Can you sign?"

"A bit" Sol signed.

"That makes things easier" Error signed back and then out loud "So what happened here?"

"Many things, mostly my brother" His expression changed to sadness.

"How long you've been here, alone?" Error looks around pointedly.

"I don't know exactly, but a few years maybe? I'm not sure"

Error falls silent and he looks at Sol like he's some particularly difficult math problem he has to solve.

"Well look, honestly I'm here to rip this place to shreds. There's enough extra garbage stinking up the Multiverse, don't see the point in leaving a practically dead and empty AU be." He lets his words hang in the air waiting for a reaction.

Solar nodded slightly as in I understand.

Error's grin faltered and he was silent for a moment. He looks away scowling.

"Look I don't usually do this but, it's your lucky day I guess, I'll give ya a choice." He rubs at the back of his neck, still not making eye contact.

"You can come with me, or you can stay here and get destroyed with the rest of this junk. I don't care either way." Error then looks at Sol.

Sol takes a moment to understand what Error said, "I'll come with you" He signed.

Error nods "Alright... Okay." He opens a portal to the Anti-Void and motions for Sol to step through. "Go then, I gotta get this done before the fuckin' ink stain figures out what I'm up to."

Sol hesitantly stepped through the portal and looked around.

"If any dipshit pops in by chance, do me a favor and hide in that giant ass cardboard box over there. Be back in a sec." and with that the portal zips close behind Sol.

About an hour later Error ports back in looking disgruntled with a few paint splats on him.

He jumps visibly when he sees Sol. He puts a hand on his chest and breathes out a relieved sigh. "Fuck I forgot you were here."

Sol is looking at him slightly worried, "Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to scare you" He signed.

"I'm fine." Error grumbled looking anything but.

"Are you sure? What happened?"

"A shithead showed up and I kicked his ass, that's what" Error snapped.

Sol nodded slightly, "So what's your name?" Sol smiled slightly.

Error was busy looking looking off into middle distance unfocused.

His attention snapped back to Sol suddenly. He pinched his brow "Sorry repeat that, I wasn't looking."

"What's your name?" He's waiting for a reply. Sol is looking at Error with curiosity.

"Ah yeah didn't introduce myself earlier. The name's Error" He eyed Sol warily.

"You have an interesting name" Sol smiled at him.

Error relaxed a little, he was expecting Sol to go for a handshake. "Uhhh thanks right back atcha." Error scratched the back of his skull looking awkward a hint of blue coloring his cheekbones.

"Ok so... now that introductions are outta the way gonna lay down some ground rules." Error leveled a serious gaze at Sol and began listing while counting out on his fingers.

"Don't touch me. Don't touch my shit. Especially don't touch those." He gestured to his strings spread about the Anti-Void. "Don't break my shit. Don't eat my chocolate... And do not!" Error abandons counting and just points a finger at Sol .

"Don't you dare interrupt me when i'm watching Undernovela." Error squints at Sol "You can follow that shit and I might not regret sparing an anomaly for once, capiche?"

Sol nodded.

"K... Good." Error pauses. "Any of the furniture is free game though. The brain teaser puzzles too."

"Okay" Sol looked around, thinking what to do.

Error sighed and flopped into a bean bag chair, his body doing a hard glitch on impact. Error kicked the other chair a small distance away from himself, gesturing for Sol to take it.

He pulled a towel from seemingly out of nowhere and began to blot at paint splats, glancing at Sol intermittently. "So... what exactly happened for you to be left like that back there anyway?"

"You said something about your brother?"

Sol sat down on the chair, "Do you have something to write with and on? I don't know if I could sign it all"

Error nodded and fished a notepad from under his bean bag and tossed it towards Sol. He then pulled a pen from his pocket and tossed that too.

Sol caught the notepad and the pen and began writing, after a while gave the notepad back to Error.

Basically he and his brother had an argument, his brother drank something, got covered by goop, basically ripped Sol' arm off and then went on a killing spree.

His brother took over the throne and was still killing if someone didn't listen to him. Sol was fighting his brother with two friends.

After a while one of the friends left to the other side od the conflict, after more time his brother left the AU with two people.

Sol discovered that the second friend died and took his soul. His friend that stayed, an artist, wanted to leave after the brother and they had an argument about it.

In the end the artist left and Sol was left alone where the rest of the Skeletons either dusted from injuries or themselves.

Error read it and looked up at Sol. "Damn..."

"That's rough, buddy."

Error looks back down at the notepad and back to Sol in confusion "Why can't you talk? You said you were able to talk before."

"Well when I was alone the first few days went kinda okay, but then the loneliness got to me, I started talking to myself, but it didn't really help, then I was screaming just all the time, that damaged my vocal chords, I guess" He's kinda embarassed by this, but his expression is mostly sad.

Error looks sympathetic. He gestures to his own throat "Is it sore? ... Or only if you try to speak?"

"Sore and it hurts more when I try to speak"

Error falls silent for a moment, his expression pensive. Error gets up with a disgruntled sigh and shuffles behind his television set.

Sol can't see what Error's doing but he hears water being poured, the clink of ceramic on glass, and the tell tale beeps of a microwave being used.

Error shuffles back and sets a steaming cup with a tea bag in it and a bottle of honey within reaching distance of Sol and flops back on his bean bag. He looks away from Sol.

"It's uh ginger tea wih a splash of lemon juice. That, and honey usually helps." Error's's got a slight blush.

Sol smiles "Thank you" He added some honey and after the tea cooled down a little bit, he began to drink it, enjoying the warm tea very much.

"No problem" Error said, blush still prevalent on his face.

"Do You have any hobbies?"

Error shrugged "Reading, knitting, solving the teaser puzzles, I'm good with my hands, I make plushies sometimes.."

"Can you show me someday?"

"Yeah." Error nodded "What about you? Hobbies? Interests?"

"Acting mostly"

Error looks interested "Acting?"

"You know, you got a bunch of people that take certain roles and act out scenes, I like to do that, I'm quite good too" Really good if you consider that Sol was the star of his Underground.

Error finishes wiping off the paint and tossed the towel off to the side. "That's pretty cool."

Sol smiled.

Error blushed, and then his expression unfocused for a second before he scowled, blushing harder.

"Something happened?"

Error looked at Sol, "What was that?"

"Did something happen?"

"No!" Error snapped, his face only glowing brighter.

Sol lowered his skull, feeling bad that he asked.

Error's hands shot out in a placating gesture "Aghhh no! Sorry- I just- f-fuck-" Error glitched "S-sorry, I didn't mean to snap. You d-did nothing." Suddenly both his hands smacked into his face and he dragged them down with a groan.

"No worries"

Error sighed and sunk himself further into his bean bag chair. Sol yawned, slightly rubbing his eyesocket.

"You tired?"

Sol nodded.

Error looked around his brows furrowed .

"Shit." He muttered under his breath. "There's a bed over there if you wanna use it."

"Okay" Sol stood up and smiled at Error "Thank you"

Error blushes "No problem"

Sol went to lay down on the bed, he quickly fell asleep.

Error gets up and checks on him and pulls the covers over Sol more. He then flops back on his bean bag and pulls out materials to start knitting a scarf.

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part five Word count: ±4250 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part five summary: Sam tries to find out more about Zoë’s past, but when he meets up with his brother again, he never thought he would have to reveal his own. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​ and @deanwanddamons​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     Paragould, Arkansas      June 16th, 2005 - Five months ago

     A shrill whistle reverberates over the training fields. Children stop in their tracks and run back to the teacher, bursting with energy.      “Alright! Good job, everyone! Red team wins!”            A woman, probably around her thirties, smiles as she is surrounded by her class. Like they always do after practice, they sit down on the grass in a circle, looking up at their teacher, waiting for her to give the cue to head off to the dressing rooms. The sun shines brightly and stands high in the blue sky, shining down on them. Birds chirp, hopping from branch to branch in the trees surrounding the fields, while the American flag flutters from the frontage of a school building.

     “Looking forward to summer break?” the teacher asks, laughing when her question is answered with loud enthusiastic cheer.      “Aren’t you even going to miss me?” she pouts.      “We’ll miss you, Mrs. Dawlson,” one of the little boys speaks up.      More kids agree with him, causing their supervisor to smile, humbled.      “I’m sure you will do fine at Oak Grove, Roy. You’re all going to middle school! Fifth graders already, my boys and girls are all grown up.” She observes her class, pride in her kind eyes. “I tell you what. Next Friday we are going to play lots of fun games, alright?”      The faces of the children light up and they happily beam at each other, already excited for next practice.      Their teacher lets them off the hook. “Be safe, off you go!”

     All get up and bolt for the dressing rooms, challenging each other to get there first. Some squeal and laugh as they play tag along the way. All but one. The joy disappears from Mrs. Dawlson’s face as she watches one of the girls, who slowly strolls back to school. Despite the warm weather, she’s wearing a long sleeved shirt and blue sweatpants.      Mrs. Dawlson sighs, clearly caring too much about her children to let this slip. “Laura?”      The little girl looks over her shoulder, her expression blank. She carries her long, chestnut hair in two braids, her bangs cover her eyes.      “Could you come here for a second?” Mrs. Dawlson asks, gently.

      Laura drags her feet with her head hanging down, like a dog who has done something wrong and is now called back to get punished. The teacher sits down on her heels to level with the little girl, making sure not to talk down to her. But Laura doesn’t look her in the eye and keeps staring at her feet.      “How are you doing, Laura?” she wonders, her voice friendly and calm.      “I’m fine, Mrs. Dawlson,” she replies, politely.      The coach hesitates for a moment, figuring out the best way to approach her pupil.      “Well, alright. But if there is anything you want to talk about, let me know, okay?”

      The young girl looks up and Mrs. Dawlson startles at what she sees. She can detect a dark bruise through her bangs, right above her left eyebrow. With her fingers, she carefully sweeps away Laura’s hair and reveals the injury underneath. Scared, the student backs out and turns her head away. Quickly, but without hurting her, Mrs. Dawlson grabs Laura’s wrist and pulls up her sleeve. What she sees then, would make everyone’s stomach turn; her entire arm is bruised.          “How did you get these?” Laura’s teacher questions, a bit firmer than before.      “I fell,” she lies.      “Tell the truth, Laura. Who did this to you? It’s alright,” Mrs. Dawlson tries to convince her.      “No one! Please don’t tell anyone!” The little ten year old begs as she pulls herself loose.      “It’s safe with me. I promise,” her teacher assures.      “No, I - I can’t,” Laura stammers.

     By now she’s crying. Big tears stream down her porcelain cheeks. It seems like she is going to cave in, but suddenly she turns around and makes a run for it. Mrs. Dawlson lets her go and straightens her back. With a sigh, the teacher places her hands on her waist and watches the girl leave the field.      Disapproving, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, swallowing thickly. “Poor girl…” she whispers to herself.

     Paragould, Arkansas      November 26th, 2005 - Present day

     It’s still early morning when Sam pulls over at 2310 West Kings highway and enters the parking lot of the Ramada Inn. He left Zoë still asleep; apparently she really needed her rest. Last night, he wondered what was going on in her head and what she’s been through, as he went over the database she developed during her years of hunting. He could tell from the file properties that she didn’t just accidentally stumble on a ghost and got curious. He doesn't know the entire story behind her possession, but something happened. Something bad.

     The first file was added over four years ago, containing information on a Diligo Vesco. ‘Diligo’ can be translated to ‘love’ in Latin, ‘Vesco’ meaning ‘eater’ in that same ancient language. A demon who served directly under the devil himself in the early years, one of Lucifer’s creations, if you believe the lore. Not your ‘casual’ black eyed rat from hell, like the ones Dad dealt with every so often. No, this one was much worse.

     The name fits, because that’s exactly what it does; it literally feeds on love, by possessing someone and slaughtering the host’s loved ones. The demon doesn’t just kill them, though. A Diligo Vesco is one of the most vicious and sadistic of its kind. It’s been reported to take its sweet time torturing the victims, before actually killing them. Sam found case reports in Zoë’s database that described the gory details. Limbs severed, organs ripped from bodies, missing parts of the brain. Arson, waterboarding, skinning, mutilation. Ways of torture he had never seen before. One of them was called Blood Eagle, where the demon would cut open its victim’s back, break all the ribs and twist them upwards, giving the poor soul ‘wings’.

     Since the beginning of time, these creatures are responsible for unexplainable and brutal murders within families and close circles. The Ade family murders in 1874, where the children were cut up and set on fire. The Green Family massacre in 1994, in which the mother of three slaughtered her children with an axe. These smart monsters play the game well, framing the vessel for the blood that the demon sheds.

     The Diligo Vesco is only able to show its true face when the host is physically close to someone he or she loves. Until that time it holds on like a leech. An exorcism would be the only way to spare the life of the possessed, but this is where it gets tricky; the demon can only be exorcised when it manifests. By the time a hunter picks up its scent, it is usually too late. Most of the time the damage is done and the thing is long gone. When it does come to driving out the demon, the host nor the exorcist rarely survive. Killing these demons is close to impossible without harming the person it's controlling. Yet this is what his father and Dean must have accomplished, since Zoë is still walking amongst them.

     Curiously, Sam had compared Zoë’s online database with his father’s journal, but the case happened to take place in a period of time from which a couple of pages of the book are missing. Zoë does not elaborate on the details of her own case either, but whatever happened, it triggered her to become one of the best hunters in the country. The list of creatures that she slayed after her possession is impressive. Zoë ended more supernatural spawn from Hell in the past four years than some hunters manage to kill in a lifetime.

     Still pondering over this newfound information, Sam gets out of his brother’s car. On his way over to Paragould, he and Dean talked about this new Sullivan girl. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but to be curious about her motives, her past. Dean doesn’t get why Sam even gives a damn. He said it’s none of their business and if Zoë doesn’t wanna share, why dig further and risk getting your eyes scratched out?

     While rummaging in his pocket, he enters the motel lobby and makes a left turn to the main corridor. The red carpet underneath his feet is stained and the wallpaper has come off at the corners, a sheer contrast to the Hampton Inn, where Zoë is staying. Here, the coffee machine in the hall spits out the most horrendous brew, they need a flashlight in the bathroom because the light is broken and the air conditioning sounds like a generator, but doesn’t actually do jack shit. But then again, he has a feeling that not even a freezer could have cooled down the rabbits inside of room 106.

     Just as he takes out his room key, he sees that he won’t need them; Dean is already at the door with the blonde he picked up the night before.

     “Call me,” she tells him, as she saves her number in his phone.      “I sure will,” Dean smirks.      They kiss once more. Both can barely keep their eyes off each other as the young lady parades away in last night’s clothes with a flustered grin on her face. 

     Sam passes her in the hallway and looks over his shoulder. He can see where Dean’s coming from; she’s beautiful. Dean has spotted the look upon his brother’s face, though.      “Forget it, tiger. She’s mine.”      “Had a good night?” Sam chuckles, hoping he will skip the details.      Dean yawns and saunters back into the room. “Did I have a good night? I barely got a chance to sleep.”      “Okay, already more than I wanted to know,” Sam cuts off, before Dean spills the goods.

     He follows his older sibling into the room, finding one bed untouched and the other a complete mess. An empty bottle of Sauvignon lays on the ground, while a dirty glass still stands on the cabinet next to a half a bottle of Jack Daniels. The window is wide open, the heavy curtains wave in the wind slightly, but despite the fresh air, the room still smells like sex. Seems like they had one hell of a party.

     “Let’s get going,” Sam announces.      Dean looks aside at his little brother, frowning. Since when is Sam the one who gives the orders?      “Already?” he replies, bummed, clearly hoping for a rendezvous.      “Yeah, I found our stuff,” Sam informs.      “Ah, so you found Sullivan,” Dean chuckless, raising his eyebrows.

     Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, but his older brother doesn’t pay attention to it, tipping over an empty bag which once contained potato crisps. Apparently he’s hungry.      “Yeah. It didn’t take me long to find her. Her bike was parked outside a hotel. She’s working a case,” Sam explains, acting casual, but Dean can’t help himself.      “If it didn’t take you long to find our shit, then where were you all night?”      Reluctantly, Sam sighs before he answers. No way in hell his brother is going to respond maturely to what he is about to say.  “I spent the night at her place.”      Dean laughs out loud, throwing his head back. “I knew it! You cheeky bastard!”      “Nothing happened, Dean,” Sam states with a tone.      “Oh, come on. Not even a little smooch?” he teases, but Sam denies.      “A look then? You know, one of those cheesy Notebook moments.”      But again, Dean’s brother shakes his head, although he can’t resist to comment on that. “You saw The Notebook?”      “Well... no. So I’ve heard,” the oldest corrects uncomfortably, quick to turn the conversation back around. “But let me get this straight; absolutely nothing happened?”      “That’s what I said,” Sam confirms.

     After opening a pizza box that - to Dean’s disappointment - is empty, he stops searching for food. Then he turns to Sam, who is clearly annoyed with the interrogation.      “Are your eyes fucked up?” Dean wonders in disbelief. “Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. I thought I taught you better than that. How can you spend the night with a woman like that without making a move?”      “That’s it. I’ve had it.”      Sam squares his shoulders and stares at Dean, furiously. His brother pissed him off, but Dean can hide his victorious grin. For weeks he has tried to push Sam over the edge, to trigger him to let it out. To yell, cry, take a swing at him if that was what his little brother needed to do to feel better. Anything to get him out of the dark hole in which he’s currently hiding up.

     “Did it ever occur to you that I might feel terribly guilty if I would just head off with some girl for a one night stand like you always do?!” the youngest of the siblings exclaims.      “I have no idea, Sam. You never talk to me about it, so how the fuck am I supposed to know how you feel?” Dean bounces back.

     “And you think it’s strange that I don't talk about what happened?! My girlfriend was murdered, Dean! I was going to ask her to marry me, for fuck’s sake!” He pauses, growing even more furious. “I had everything planned out! Law school, Jess, everything!”      By now Sam paces from one side of the room to the other, restless and upset.

     “You were gonna marry her, really? Sam, with your background the chances of the American dream coming true was close to zero. You should’ve known that,” his brother reminds him.      “I was just trying to move on, I was trying to be happy! And you know what? I actually was!” Sam halts in front of Dean and raises his voice even more. “I loved her, Dean! I still do and I can’t get her out of my fucking mind! She died because of me!”      Dean looks at his younger sibling, sympathetically. “Don’t do that to yourself, man. It’s not your fault she’s dead.”      “It is. I didn’t warn her about the danger out there!I lied to her--”

      Sam intends to ramble on, but Dean intervenes.      “- What makes you think that telling her the truth would have made a difference? Whatever killed Jessica, wasn’t just some ghost, Sam. Hey, listen to me.” The older brother grabs Sam’s shoulder and forces him to look down into his eyes. “That same thing killed Mom, and probably a whole bunch of other people. It’s powerful, and if Dad has trouble stopping it, no offence, but you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

     “I’m not talking about stopping him at that moment, Dean!” Sam pulls himself loose and turns away.      An unpleasant silence fills the room as Dean waits for a follow up, but his brother doesn’t continue.      “What then, Sam? Talk to me,” he pleads.

     Again that silence. The younger Winchester doesn’t move and stares at the wall with his hands placed on his waist. He swallows apprehensively, his jaw tensed. Then Sam sighs and turns around for Dean to see his eyes glister.      “I could have prevented it,” Sam claims, his voice soft and broken now.      Dean observes him, thinking through his next question first before he shoots. He has a feeling there’s more to this than just guilt.      “How?”      Sam bites his lip and averts his gaze. Then, after a month of silence, Sam finally opens up to his brother.      “I dreamed of Jessica’s death, days before it happened.”

     Complete silence. While the air grows even thicker with tension, Dean stares at his brother, his eyes confused and stunned. Taken aback, he opens his mouth in order to respond, but can’t find the words he’s looking for.      “Y-you mean, as in… a vision or something?” he returns disbelieving, chuckling nervously.      Sam scoffs as he moves away, ready to leave this conversation already; he knew Dean would respond like this. “Never mind.”      But Dean doesn’t let it go. “You’re telling me that you actually saw Jess die, like she did, in a dream?”      His younger brother halts, turns back slightly and eventually nods his head. “I didn't think anything of it at first. I figured it was just a bad dream. Until…”

     He doesn't need to finish his sentence. Dean says nothing, instead he just stares at Sam. Several thoughts rage through his head. What the hell is going on with him? What the hell could this mean? Why the fuck didn’t he tell me this before? The sheer thought that something might be terribly wrong with his little brother, has his stomach in knots. This isn’t ordinary. In fact, this is as far from ordinary as a human can get. He is stunned and overwhelmed by the idea, but his own brother might actually be something a hunter would keep a close eye on.

     Sam swallows thickly, feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You’re looking at me as if you’re about to empty a bottle of holy water over my head.”      For a moment Dean glares at the flask on the table.      “Dude, you’re seriously considering?!” Sam shouts, frustrated.      “You wanna tell me that this is normal, Sam?!” Dean counters, raising his voice.      Sam shakes his head and turns around, already regretting that he brought it up.      “Why didn’t you tell me before?” the older brother questions.      “I don’t know,” Sam mutters, staring at the ground.      “You don’t know? You’re psychic, right?” Dean scoffs.

     The youngest of the Winchester boys grinds his teeth, but doesn’t say a word. The tension between the two of them is heavy and familiar; it feels the same as when they had the argument before Sam took off for college.

      “Anything else I should know, Sam?” Dean pressures, clearly worked up over this. “I don’t know, maybe you can stop bullets or run super fast.”      Dean steps to the other side of the room with his arms folded in front of his chest, making fun of the situation because he has no idea how else to deal with it.      Sam eyes him, following his movements. “Funny,” he snaps. “Mature, too.”      “It would explain a lot of things. The ‘S’ stands for ‘Sam’ and there’s your love for tights,” Dean provokes.      “Stop it,” Sam hisses, but Dean isn’t done.      “Can you fly? ‘Cause that would be fucking awesome.”      “Dean!” Sam warns mad.      “What?! Either I joke about it or I lose my fucking cool! Take your pick,” Dean returns.      “One way or the other, it doesn’t help!” the youngest exclaims. “You see? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you, Dean! I knew you would give me this kind of shit!”      “What did you expect? You kept this from me for over a month!” Dean brings to mind, hurt seeping past the words.      “I don’t have to tell you everything I go through. I don’t owe you that,” Sam makes clear, venom in his tone.      “And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dean turns to him, pointing his finger as he approaches his brother. “I am your fucking brother, Sam! So yes, you do owe me that!”

     Dean stares straight into Sam’s eyes, his head tilted slightly backwards to look at his younger yet taller brother. Sam can see his words struck a nerve.      “We used to tell each other everything. What happened to that?” Dean wonders.      “It left, along with me.”

     Sam breaks eye contact and walks past him. As Sam bumps his shoulder against his, Dean shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw.      “I know you’re pretty damn good at it, but don’t you walk away from me,” he threatens, not brave enough to turn around to watch Sam leave.      “Why wouldn’t I?” Sam tests, not impressed by Dean’s stern words.      “Because this is not something you can walk away from! When will that finally come to you? When you’re in, you’re in. There’s no way back when you know about the things in the shadows, especially not when you have fucking visions about it!”       Now Dean does turn to face Sam, who scoffs at the message. “So what then, huh?! You’re planning to hunt until you’re in a wheelchair?”       “No, I’m planning to hunt until I finish the job Dad left for us to do and along the way, I will kill as many sons of bitches as I possibly can. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.” He pauses, staring at his brother with fiery eyes. “I intend to prevent people from going through the same shit we’ve had to endure, and if I don’t succeed, I’ll die trying.”

     This time, Sam doesn’t have a counter ready. No stubborn remark, no smart answer, just silence. He’s not sure what to say to that. He has to admit, he respects Dean for his morals, his honor. It gets him thinking, too. About his own future, his own life. Because deep down he knows Dean is right. He can run from the supernatural all he wants, but it will continue to follow him, always and everywhere.

     “Why should we be the one to sacrifice everything?” Sam questions, less hostile than before.      “I don’t know,” Dean sighs. “It’s just the way it is. So we either feel sorry for ourselves, or we suck it up.”

     Sam nods, admitting, but not at all okay with the inevitable. He can never have the life he wishes for. There will always be more to hunt, more to kill; this is a never ending story. And even if he does turn his back on the business for good, will he be able to forget about Jessica’s death? Can he move on without scanning every street, expecting something out of the ordinary around every corner? Right now, actually getting his law degree seems impossible, but then again, maybe he was being naïve when he went to Stanford in the first place.

     “Shall we go?” Sam suggests.      Dean looks up at the defeated man. The peace has returned, but brought a sense of devastation along as well. Accepting his fate is hard on Sam, he understands that. So Dean decides they had enough arguments for one morning and lets it go. He got Sam to talk to him; one step at a time.      “Can’t we stay one more night?” Dean tries, carefully.      Sam frowns, but then understands his reason for hesitation.      “Denise”, he chuckles. “Or Demi? I’m not sure. Her name started with a ‘D’.”      Dean’s typical grin appears on his face again, his eyes still soft, though.

     “Listen, man. I’m not pushing you to hook up with some chick just to mess you up, okay? At some point it’s gonna be time to move on, and I just figured a girl might help with that,” Dean lets him know, somewhat apologetic.      Sam eyes at his brother for a little while with an expression saying something in the line of ‘yeah right’. After a moment of who-gives-up-glaring-first, Dean caves.      “Alright, I wanted to piss you off so that you would get it out of your system,” he admits.

     The corner of Sam’s mouth twitches upward; he knew it. He’s not mad at Dean for playing that card, though. His older brother means well and he actually feels a little better now that he told him what is going on.      “Seriously, man. Talk to me when something’s up,” Dean underlines.      Sam responds with a nod of the head, then he gathers his stuff, apparently intending to leave.      “Ah, come on. One night,” Dean begs.      “There’s something ripping out hearts down in Texas, described by locals as ‘possibly coyotes’,” Sam offers.      Dean rubs his unshaven chin and thinks it over.      “Awesome werewolf hunt or awesome sex? Tough one,” he ponders.      Sam can’t help but smile and waits for the final call.      “Alright, let’s hunt some wolf,” Dean gives in. “Do you need to change in a phone booth before we go?”      Sam gives him a death-stare once again, but his brother keeps a straight face.      “No?” he checks, teasing.

     Dean can’t wipe the comical smirk off his face and so Sam shoves his brother towards the door, triggering him to let out a laugh. Before he follows, the younger Winchester feels his pockets for his phone and freezes. Unpleasantly surprised he looks around.      “Lost something?” Dean wonders.      “I think I left my Blackberry at Zo’s,” Sam realizes.      “Naturally,” Dean chuckles, failing to believe he didn’t leave it there on purpose.      “Would you quit it already?!” Sam returns, feisty.      “Okay, I’ll stop,” Dean promises. “We need to score some food anyway, I’m hungry.”      “There’s a In-N-Out a block from Zoë’s hotel,” Sam mentions.      Dean’s eyes light up, imagining the food in front of him already. “A Double-Double it is.”

     Sam grins as Dean picks up a small duffel containing only the few things they carry around at the moment. He follows Sam outside, who locks the door behind them. A quick bite before they leave another town and move on to the next. They never stay long, but the last two stops have been extremely short. Dean likes Denise, or whatever her name is, yet he has never been the guy who sticks around long enough to get serious with a girl. To be honest, a wolf hunt already sounds more fun than doing the girl he already did last night. After that shapeshifter drama, and now this newfound information about Sammy, he’s up for something equally exciting and distracting. Dean is sure of it; Texas, here they come.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter six here

[petertingle-yipyip]

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Nine: Used To Be

// WHB Masterlist //

//Series Inspo: @stuckonspidey​​ @cxptain-capsicle​​ // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo​​ @mc225g​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​ @istg-lyssa-stop @olliekookie @rosegoldhome​​ @chubsluda​​ @missmulti​​ @eterna​leviee @freerebel @peterparker-glee-other @disgustangg @jackiehollanderr​@imsobored3000  @eridanuswave​ @drunklili​ //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 14,475

Summary: Five years is a long time, but it’s time that Tony takes to rebuild his life and his family. He never forgot his oldest daughter, but he did learn to move on. When Steve comes to him asking for help, can Tony get things back to they way they Used To Be?

Things weren’t what they used to be on Earth. No one understood the full extent of what was lost. Half of humanity was gone, that much was the easy part to understand. But what no one knew how to cope with, was why it was the people they loved.

Tony hated that Y/N and Peter were gone. Steve hated that Bucky, and as far as he knew, Tony was gone. Okoye had lost T’Challa and Shuri. Rocket lost all the Guardians. Sam, Stephen Strange, Wanda, and millions of others had turned to ash in front of their friends and loved ones. There is no way to cope with that. And Pepper… Pepper didn’t know what she had lost.

Nebula and Tony were left to find a way home from Titan. They were the only two on that planet that survived. While Tony was friendly to Nebula, he couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. The place where his daughter had been, where the ghost of his daughter is.

“What was her name?” Nebula suddenly asked. They had been playing finger football, a game so ordinary that it felt out of place to do in that ship. “Your daughter.”

“Y/N.” Tony said softly. “Her name is Y/N.”

He emphasized the word ‘is’. His brain was refusing to admit that she had disappeared before his eyes. He loved her. He raised her. He had done everything in his power to protect her, and he still failed her. He knew that he should’ve sent her home the minute he sent Peter home. But that didn’t work for the kid either.

Thinking of Peter hurt Tony almost as bad as thinking of Y/N. He remembered that he had told Y/N not to get too attached to Peter because he wasn’t meant to be a permanent addition to their lives, but he ended up finding a place in their hearts. A place in their family.

“I’m sorry you lost her.” Nebula said earnestly, despite her voice being the same monotonous voice she always used.

“Yeah… Me too.” He nodded carefully. “So you won!” He exclaimed, feigning happiness. He didn’t think he could sit and talk about Y/N any longer. It was still so fresh, the image of losing his only daughter. “Have fun?” Tony asked, offering his hand to shake.

“It was fun.” Nebula nodded, shaking his hand.

That was less than a week after Thanos and the battle on Titan. It was pushing the three week mark, maybe even beyond it, by the time he was able to gather the strength to make the message he was dreading. He leaned forward to tap the side of his damaged helmet.

“Guess I should say something, huh?” Tony sighed, a heavy sadness falling on him. “I don’t know, Y/N/N, maybe there’s nothing to say. You’ll never get the chance to see this, and maybe that’s my fault. This is just so I know that I said it to you, even if you can’t hear it…

“Y/N, honey, I’m sorry. I wish more than anything I could’ve saved you. Because you and your mother were what got me out of bed everyday. You were undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to me. And if I had the chance, I’d trade my life for yours.

“Oh, man. This is hard. I love you, so so much. More than I could ever put into words… But I guess you did that when you were a kid, huh? Forever and ever... Just didn’t think there’d be an end to our forever.

“Well, I’m not gonna bore you with the details of what’s going over here. Just wanted to check in and let you know that I love you and I really messed up time. I failed you, and I have to live with that… Just- Just know that when the inevitable catches up to me and I can’t pull an ace out my sleeve - that ace was usually you - that I’m gonna think about you. Love you, Cupcake.”

Tony ended that message and decided he had to deliver one more. There was someone else who needed to hear Tony’s voice, for possibly the last time.

“This thing on?” He opened with. Tony wanted to leave a message for Pepper, praying that she was okay. But a different part of him was afraid there was going to be no one to receive the message. “ Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so.” Tony didn’t think he could cope with losing his wife and daughter. “Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it... And Pep, I- I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about the two people that meant the world to me… And that’s you and Y/N.... Because it's always you two.”

Nebula helped Tony off the floor and into one of the seats. She even got him a blanket. Nebula knew there was nothing left to do for Tony. There was no way to get the Benatar back to Earth, and no way to help Tony. He would die in the middle of nowhere in space, alone.

As Tony was drifting off, a bright light shone in his face. He tried to ignore it, but it grew brighter and brighter until he couldn’t ignore it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a woman. A woman with blonde hair, a red and blue suit, and glowing a strange blue glow. But Tony didn’t care to ask how she found them. Maybe she could get them home. He felt hope in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in weeks.

And that was exactly what she did. The mysterious space woman was able to guide the Benatar back to Earth, more specifically to the Avengers Compound. Inside was Steve, Nat, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey. The incoming ship caused the compound to shake, steadily picking up intensity until the Benatar landed. Nebula helped Tony out the ship and down to the ground as Steve ran to his friend to help.

“Couldn’t stop him.” Tony managed as he walked with Steve.

“Neither could I.” Steve admitted. Steve glanced behind Tony, expecting to see Y/N right behind him.

“I lost the kids.” Tony mumbled, saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t there to see it made it feel fresh again. The image of his daughter disappearing mid-sentence and then the image of Peter disappearing in his arms flashed in his mind.

“Tony, we lost.” Steve said, hoping to console and show solidarity.

“Is uh..” Tony couldn’t ask the question. He couldn’t get his brain to ask Is Pepper alive.

“Oh my god!” Pepper said, rushing to Tony so she could hug him tightly. “Oh my god!”

“It’s okay.” Tony said gently as he held her close. And for the first time in nearly a month, something actually was okay.

Tony now sat inside, an IV inserted into his arm as everyone tried to brief him on what he missed on Earth. The words Rhodey spoke held no weight in Tony’s frazzled mind. Behind his friend were projections, images that resembled mugshots. Images that showed the people that were gone. Some were smiling, like Peter’s, while others were more serious, like his daughter’s.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey began.

But Tony’s mind wandered. He saw things that were his daughter’s. Her childhood drawings were still on the fridge. Her picture was still hanging on the wall. A framed photo of her and Peter was still on the desk. The mask plate to her first suit was still on the corner of her desk, right beneath her computer screen.

“So where is he?” Tony asked, suddenly full of anger. Full of pain.

“We don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “He just opened a portal and walked through…. Tony, you and Y/N fought him.”

“What?” Tony asked in shock. “Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet and used my daughter as a punching bag while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the Stone. There was no fight, alright? He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues?” Steve pressed. He knew he shouldn’t have. He knew he should’ve let Tony rest and ask questions later. But his own grief was pushing him to continue, pushing him to find some sort of lead. “Any coordinates? Anything?” Steve was practically begging.

“I saw this coming a few years back.” Tony said casually, in an ‘I-Told-You-So’ type way. “I had a vision… I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. You know, I told Y/N about it? And she was ready to wade through Hell and high water with me, if that’s what it took.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.” Steve tried to steer Tony back to the present.

“And I needed you.” Tony emphasized. His anger now to a point that he didn’t care to try to control. “As in past tense. Oh, and so did Y/N. Did you know she looked for you for weeks after Germany?”

“No, I didn’t know.” He admitted sadly. “But you knew. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Because obviously, we can’t count on you for anything.” Tony replied simply. “But that trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry.” Tony shrugged weakly. “You know what I need? I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-” Tony’s balance faltered as he went for Steve, but Rhodey was able to catch him. Rhodey tried to calm Tony, but the stubborn man continued his rage fueled rant. “Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not- that’s what we needed!”

“Well, that didn’t work out. Did it?” Steve snapped. He understood that Tony was in pain, that Tony was grieving arguably more than he was. But Steve wanted to find a way to bring everyone back, to fix what they couldn’t stop. “We’ve got to do something. We owe it to those people-”

“I don’t owe anybody shit!” Tony countered angrily. “I owe my daughter a future. I owe Peter a future. But I can’t give it to them now, because you were too concerned about our freedoms. Look where that got up, Cap.” Tony said, his arms out to the side in a grand gesture.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony continued, his voice no longer full of rage. Instead, his voice was soft, the voice of a man who had given up. Who had lost everything. “You said ‘We’ll do that together too’. And guess what? We lost. And you weren’t there… But that’s what we do, right?” Tony’s anger was resurfacing as his daughter’s face flashed on the holograms again. “We’re the Avengers, we’re the Avengers. Not the Pre-vengers?”

“You made your point.” Rhodey tried, hoping to settle his unstable friend. Rhodey knew Tony better than anyone, could read him better than everyone. He could see the grief in his face, the loss in his eyes. Tony had been through a lot in the past ten years, since Loki first came to New York. But losing his daughter and the kid he had been mentoring at the same time, in the same way, that was a whole different kind of hurt. A kind of hurt that no person deserved. “Just sit down, okay?”

“Nah, nah.” Tony scoffed. “Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey tried again.

“She’s great, by the way.” He pointed to the mysterious space woman. He learned her name was Carol Danvers, an Air Force pilot from the 80’s who had gotten her powers by exploding a Kree reactor. “We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” He ranted as he crossed the room to stand face-to-face with Steve. “I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” He spat, the venom soaked his words. Tony didn’t care to be polite or kind. Tony didn’t care about anything anymore. He pulled his housing unit off his chest and slammed it into Steve’s hand. “Here. Take this. You find him, and you put that on. Then you hide.”

“Tony-”

“No, cause that’s what you’re good at, right?” Tony mocked. “Hiding? Running away when people need you the most? You lost someone a month ago? So what. I lost my daughter. I don’t care who you lost. It’s not the same. So don’t talk to me like it is.” After that sentence, Tony fell to the floor, losing consciousness on the way down. But he dreamt of her.

You’re twelve years old, designing your own suit. You aren’t planning any of the specifics. You don’t worry about the technical aspects or the functionality of it. You are more concerned with what it would look like. You draw a suit like your dad’s, red with gold accents and the centerpiece of a glowing, blue Arc Reactor. You draw the suit without the mask, filling it in with your own face instead.

“Dad?” You ask, running up to his desk and waving your paper at him. “Dad, when can I be a superhero? I want to be like you!”

Tony laughs a little, picking you up and placing you in his lap. He stares at you with a delighted smile and proud eyes. He doesn’t know how he got as lucky as he is, but he thanks the universe everyday that he has you. “How about this?” He says happily, sliding the glove he’s working on onto your hand. The glove tightens to fit your skinny wrist, lighting up and moving with your hand. “This is a starter piece. When you build the rest of the suit around it, you can be a superhero.”

“Do I get a superhero name?” You ask excitedly, posing heroically with your dad’s glove. “Something cool, like yours!”

“Nope, you don’t get to copy mine.” He shakes his head with finality. “You’ve gotta come up with your own.”

“But I want something cool like yours..” You whine.

“How about this? You can buy it for the low, low price of a million dollars.” He offers with a wink.

You huff and cross your arm, thinking of a counter offer. “How about my dessert for the next month and I promise to only put on the suit when you need help. I’ll be your sidekick!”

“Hmm, no.” He shakes his head, putting you back on the ground and pulling the glove off your hand. “Nope. Iron Man works alone.”

“But Tony Stark works with Y/N Stark.” You counter with a coy smile. “So it’s not ‘Iron Man’ working with anyone. It’s like father-daughter bonding!”

“Father-daughter bonding.” Tony laughs. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that on your mom later when she asks why you’re always drawing suits.”

“You’re the best.” You smile.

“I know.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I know.”

“Forever.” You hold your hand out for him to take.

“And ever.” He grins, taking your hand. You two lift your joined hands up and then come back down, solidifying your promise. No matter what happens, you know you’ll always love and trust you’ll dad. You’ll follow him anywhere, help him with anything. And Tony knows just how amazing you’re going to be, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Outside the room where Tony rested, the others talked about going after Thanos. They had managed to pinpoint where Thanos was, thanks to Nebula’s help. Bruce tried to reason with the small group, acknowledging that they were lacking in numbers. Carol was the one who suggested using the Stones to bring everyone back. While it seemed unlikely, impossible even, the Avengers knew there was no other option.

Later that day, everyone except Tony was aboard the Benatar and headed to Thanos. But they were too late. Thanos had used the Stones to destroy the Stones, leaving no chance of changing what he had done. The only outcome that had any effect was that Thor decapitated the Titan, offering himself closure but no real comfort.

There were no options left, no hope. No second chances. All of those that were left had no choice but to move on, to start over. But no matter how much time passed, there was a void in everyone’s hearts. A void that no amount of time could heal, that no new people could replace. But people had to try.

Five years had passed. Five years since Tony had watched Peter and Y/N fade away. He could finally talk about her without wanting to cry. He could remember her fondly instead of painfully. He could tell Morgan about her without feeling like he was leaving her behind. He wouldn’t say he felt whole again, but he had learned how to live with the hollow feeling. He knew Pepper was beside him, feeling the same emptiness that he did. But Tony would argue that he felt it deeper since he watched her go, since he heard her final sentence be cut short.

Tony wandered his property, clapping his hands. He had hoped that would’ve gotten their attention.

“Chow time!” He announced happily. But when he got no response, he called her name. “Maguna? Morgan H. Stark. You want some lunch?” He sat on a log near a small tent, waiting for Morgan’s appearance.

She came out of the tent wearing an all-too-familiar helmet. “Define lunch or be disintegrated.” She responded playfully.

“Okay, you should not be wearing that, okay?” Tony said, gently taking the helmet off her head only to be greeted by a mischievous smile that reminded him of Y/N. “That was a part of Y/N’s first suit designs. She was very proud of this.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Are you thinking about lunch?” Tony continued his original conversation. “I can give you a handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce.” He teased.

“No.” Morgan laughed.

“That’s what you want.” Tony joked. “How did you find this?”

“Garage.”

“Really? Were you looking for it?”

“No!” She responded quickly. “I found it, though. Y/N had all the cool stuff.”

“Yeah, she did.” He smiled fondly. “You like going to the garage, huh? So does daddy.. It’s fine, actually. Y/N hadn’t touched that thing since she upgraded.”

As Tony was walking Morgan back into the house, a black car rolled up. Steve, Scott, and Nat exited the vehicle. Tony hadn’t heard from them since he returned to Earth five years ago, so he knew whatever they wanted to talk to him about wouldn't be anything he had wanted to be involved in.

They talked on the porch, Scott explaining his wild idea.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott tried to reason.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony offered. The three looked between each other, visibly confused, as Tony handed each of them a drink.

“Thank you.” Steve quickly added politely.

“In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” Tony simplified.

“I did.” Scott defended.

“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony corrected. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?”

“A time heist.” Scott chuckled.

“Yeah, a time heist.” Tony nodded. “Of course, why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipe-dream?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott pushed.

“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat added. “We can bring everyone back.”

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony countered.

“I don’t believe we would.” Steve said honestly.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won’t help if there is no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist,” Tony said firmly. “I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.”

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.” Scott defended. “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Scott. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back to the Future?” The fact that it was reminded Tony of Peter, the way he made plans based on what he saw in movies.

“No.” Scott answered, now embarrassed.

“Good. You had me worried there.” Tony nodded. “Cause that’d be horse shit. That’s not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony..” Nat pressed. “We have to take a stand.”

“We did stand.” He replied sadly. “And yet, here we are.. Some of us, anyway.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” Scott desperately said. He practically begged for Tony’s help. “And now- now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you’re telling me you won’t even-”

“That’s right, Scott. I won’t even. I got a kid.” Tony agreed. “I already lost my daughter, five years ago. She would’ve been twenty two this year, but I watched her turn to dust. So, no. I won’t.”

“Mommy told me to come save you.” Morgan said as she ran up to her dad, who picked her up easily.

“Good job, I’m saved.” He told her before turning to Steve. “I wish you’d come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I- I missed you guys, It was… Oh, and the table’s set for six.”

“Tony, I get it.” Steve spoke up. “And I’m happy for you. I really am. But this is a second chance for all of us.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap.” Tony sighed. “I can’t roll the dice again. If you don’t talk shop, you can stay for lunch.”

“You think if it was the other way around, and you were gone, Y/N would say no?” Steve tried.

“You think Y/N would risk all of your lives just for me?” Tony scoffed.

“I think Y/N would take on Thanos by herself if it meant she could get you back.” Steve said simply. “You were everything to her and you know that. If there was even the slightest chance to get you back, she would do it.”

“She was a kid.” Tony argued, careful not to raise his voice since he was holding Morgan still. “She’d be stupid to try your Time Heist. The answer is no, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m not losing again.”

Later that night, Tony was washing dishes after dinner. He had accidentally rinsed a spoon with too much water, and it shot out on the surrounding photo frames. When he was drying them off, he realized it was the photo of him, Y/n and Peter took with his Stark Internship certificate. The excitement in Peter’s eyes was obvious, as was the admiration in Y/N’s. He figured he might as well run some numbers, see what the actual probability of the Time Heist was.

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out. I’m just kinda-” Tony rambled as F.R.I.D.A.Y. completed the sim.

“Model rendered.” Her automated voice said, showing a 99.987% success rate.

“Shit!” Tony exclaimed with a chuckle.

“Shit.” A small voice repeated from behind him.

“What are you doing up, little miss?” He whispered.

“Shit.” She repeated.

“No, we don’t say that. Only Mommy says that word. She coined it, belongs to her.”

“Why you up?”

“Cause I got some important shit going on here.” Morgan gave her dad a look. “What do you think? No, I got something on my mind… I got something on my mind.”

“Was it Juice pops?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Sure was.” Tony nodded. “That’s extortion. Great minds think alike. Juice pops, exactly was on my mind.” Tony said, leading Morgan to the kitchen after glancing at the rendered model one last time.

After the two got their Juice Pops, Tony brought Morgan back to her room.

“That face goes there.” Tony said, pushing Morgan’s face into her pillow.

“Tell me a story.” Morgan said tiredly.

“Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end.”

“That’s a horrible story.” She laughed.

“C’mon, that’s your favorite story.”

“Tell me a story about Y/N.”

“A story about Y/N..” Tony repeated. He thought of what story to tell Morgan. He had so many amazing memories with his daughter, so many laughs, so many triumphs. But there were just as many pitfalls. Every high had a low. “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Y/N. She was super smart and crazy popular, just like her dad. She wanted to be a superhero. She wanted to help people. But she wanted to help her dad the most. And she did. She helped her dad everyday from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. And then she did it all again the next day. But then, she had to go. She didn’t want to, but she had to.”

“She coming back?” Morgan asked, her eyes half shut.

“Love you tons.” Tony smiled, not wanting to promise anything. Tony wasn’t even sure he wanted to do anything with his successful model.

“I love you 3000.” Morgan replied.

I love you forever. And ever.

“Wow.” He whispered. “3000. That’s crazy… Go to bed or I’ll sell all your toys.”

He went downstairs and found Pepper, reading a book on composting. He tried to listen, but his attention kept shifting back to the successful model that still illuminated his table.

“I figured it out, by the way.” He interjected, unable to keep it in any longer.

“You know, just so we’re talking about the same thing-” Pepper said, wanting to make sure she knew what he meant.

“Time travel.”

“What?” She asked in obvious amazement. “Wow… That’s amazing and terrifying.”

“That’s right.”

“We got really lucky.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“No, I can’t help everybody.”

“It sort of seems like you can.” Pepper pressed. “Or at least help the person you even considered this for.”

“Not if I stop.” Tony countered. “I can put a pin in it right now, and stop.”

“Trying to get you to stop had been one of the few failures of my life.” She joked. “And so was trying to get Y/N to stop..”

“I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake… Go to bed.”

“But would you be able to rest?” She offered gently. “Tony, you did all of this because there’s the chance that you can get our daughter back. I know that’s why you did it. And I also know that you’ve hardly gotten any real rest in the past five years. You’re happy with Morgan, but you still need Y/N.”

“She was the best parts of both of us.” He smiled fondly.

“And the worst parts of you.” Pepper joked.

“She was not!” Tony said, feigning offense.

“She was just as stubborn as you are!”

“I can get her back..” He whispered, as if the words hadn’t truly set in yet. There was a viable chance to bring Y/N back. And he had to take it. “Morgan is gonna love her.”

“Morgan already loves her.” Pepper laughed.

The next day, Tony rode over to the Compound. He was conflicted still. Yes, he had the chance to get his daughter back but was it worth risking the daughter he had now? Tony would have to make sure that he didn’t lose what he found. As he drove up, Steve was waiting outside, seemingly distraught. 

“Why the long face?” Tony asked as he rolled down his window. “Let me guess. He turned into a baby.” Tony teased, jumping out the car and heading to the trunk.

“Among other things.” Steve answered hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony explained. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you pushed time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Someone should’ve cautioned you against it.”

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?” Tony joked. “Thank God I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He proudly lifted his newest toy. “A fully functional time-space GPS. I just want peace.” Tony threw up a peace sign. “Turns out resentment is corrosive. I hate it.”

“Me too.” Steve agreed.

“We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope to God, yes. I’d absolutely love to have Y/N and Peter back. Keep what I got? I have to, at all costs. I can’t lose another kid, Cap. And… maybe not die trying would be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Steve smiled, offering his hand for Tony to shake. “We’re gonna get her back.” Before heading inside, Tony pulled something else out of the trunk. He had a new shield for Steve.

“Tony…” Steve hesitated.

“Why?” Tony questioned. “He made it for you. Plus, I don’t think Y/N would recognize you without it and I need to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

“Thank you.” Steve said honestly.

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” Tony stopped and turned to Steve. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that.” Steve replied.

Tony worked with Bruce and Scott to design the Quantum Suits. They resembled the Ant-Man suit with Stark styling. Nebula contributed the helmet design. She said Peter Quill used the same tech. Tony jokingly called her friends the Rings of Uranus. The only thing left was a test run, to which Clint volunteered for.

After the test was successful, they had to figure out when to go to get the Stones. Nat and Clint went after the Soul Stone, Thor and Rocket for the Reality Stone, Bruce for the Time Stone, Tony and Scott for the Tesseract which contained the Space Stone, Steve went for the Mind Stone, and Rhodey and Nebula went for the Power Stone. Everyone had enough Pym particles for one round trip. No one could afford to mess up.

“We can all stand around posing up a storm later.” Past Tony said, hauling Loki to his feet. “By the way, feel free to clean up.”

While the familiar scene played out in front of Tony and Scott, they conversated with Steve about the unflattering fit of his old suit. Scott said that he could tell the undercover HYDRA agents, because they even looked like bad guys.

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS had alerted 2012 Y/N, unbeknownst to either Tony. “There appears to be a second Tony Stark in the building. Your father is descending in the elevator with the others. Should I alert Mr. Stark?”

“What?” 2012 Y/N questioned, leaving the table in your dad’s lab to see the projection JARVIS had given you. It was Y/N’s dad but older. He carried himself with the same Stark pride, but Y/N could tell something heavy was weighing on his shoulders. “Where is this?”

“He is headed to the ground floor.” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Banner is in the stairwell so it seems he’ll be taking the elevator.”

“I’ll intercept him.” 2012 Y/N said, her curiosity taking over. “Let me know if he changes course.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

2012 Y/N headed out of the lab and towards one of the elevators. Y/N knew her dad and the rest of the team was heading down with Loki. The SHIELD team designated to take the Scepter would be in a different elevator. So she had hoped she’d get an empty one and you did. She quickly made her way to the ground floor, able to beat her dad’s doppelganger.

“Who are you?” 2012 Y/N asked when face to face with the older version of her dad. “Well, I know who you are but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Uh, Y/N..” He said softly. A part of him knew that he would see her, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. She was so young, so innocent. The fights and bruises and scars and tiredness hadn’t gotten to her yet. “What are you doing down here? I thought you were working on-”

“I was in the lab until JARVIS told me-” She began before shaking her head quickly. “Don’t distract me! When are you from?”

“Y/N, hon, listen.” Tony said, a slight sigh in his voice. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes. Please. Just pretend you never saw me.”

“Pretend I-” She said in shock. “Do you really expect me to forget that an older Tony Stark lookalike was wandering the Tower the exact day Loki was here? No, you came here for a reason.”

“Y/N?” 2012 Tony called, drawing her attention.

“Don’t move.” She told Tony before hurrying to her dad.

“Alright, move it Stuart Little.” Tony said to Scott, who had slid into 2012 Tony’s Arc Reactor. “Things are getting a little dicey and she won’t leave me alone for long.”

“You promise me you won’t die?” Scott checked.

“You’re only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia.”

“That doesn’t sound mild.”

“Pull my pin!” Tony insisted quietly.

“Here goes!” Scott exclaimed before disconnecting 2012 Tony’s reactor. 2012 Tony fell to the ground, grasping his chest. 2012 Y/N dropped to her knees, calling for a medic. Scott kicked the case to Tony, who picked it up and headed off. Just as it seemed to have gone to plan, 2012 Hulk came barrelling through the door as he yelled about hating stairs. The door flying opened knocked the case from Tony’s hands and sent the Tesseract sliding away.

So Tony and Scott sat in a broken down car, waiting for Steve to leave the Tower. They had one chance. It had to be perfect, but it wasn’t. He had the Tesseract in his hand and he lost it.

“Sorry, buddy.” Tony explained when Steve came out. “We got a problem.”

“Huh, yeah we do.” Scott agreed quickly.

“Well, what are we gonna do now?” Steve asked in defeat.

“You know what, give me a break Steve.” Tony defended himself. “Y/N just interrogated me like I was in cahoots with Loki and I got hit in the head with a Hulk.”

“You talked to Y/N?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows. He was almost insinuating that his conversation with Y/N was the reason he lost the Tesseract.

“No, it was more like she was yelling at me for being in my own building.” Tony countered. “Imagine that. My own daughter scolding me for being in my building.”

“You said we had one shot. This- this was our shot. We shot it. It’s shot.” Scott ranted anxiously. “Six stones or nothing. Six stones or nothing.”

“You’re repeating yourself, you know that?” Tony interrupted. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“You’re repeating yourself.” Scott countered childishly. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“I dropped the ball.” Tony said simply.

“You ruined the time heist.” Scott whined.

“Is that what I did?”

“Yeah!”

“Are there any other options with the Tesseract?” Steve asked loudly, trying to refocus the two.

“No, no, no. There’s no other options. There’s no do-overs. We’re not going anywhere else.” Scott argued. “We have one particle left. Each. That’s it, alright? We use that- Bye bye. You’re not going home.”

“Well if we don’t try-” Steve emphasized. “No one else is going home either. Not Bucky.. Not Hope.. And not Y/N.”

“I got it.” Tony said simply. “There’s another way, to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. We’ll stroll down memory lane, military installation. Garden State.”

“When were they both there?” Steve questioned.

“They were there at a- I’ve a vaguely exact idea.”

“How vague?”

While Tony and Steve conversated as if it was obvious, Scott was left in the dark to ask questions that no one would answer. Tony told Scott to get back to the Compound, while he and Steve went to the 70’s. Tony headed off to find the Tesseract, where he ran into his father on the way. Steve went to find Dr. Pym, where he saw Peggy on his way.

“I guess I’ll be eating dinner in the pantry again.” Howard joked.

“I have a little girl. Well, two girls but my oldest is in high school.” Tony said with a proud smile.

“A girl would be nice… Less of a chance she’d turn out exactly like me.”

“What’d be so awful about that?” Tony asked. “My oldest is just like me.”

“Let’s just say that the greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests.”

“Where are you with names?” Tony asked, trying to make light conversation until Steve showed up.

“My wife likes Elmonzo for a boy.”

“Might wanna let that stew awhile.. You got time.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Howard said in turn. “When your kid was born- either of them- were you nervous?”

“Wildly, yeah.” Tony laughed. “But those two are the best things that ever happened to me.”

The two finished their conversation before Tony snuck off with Steve. The two went back to the present, where they met with the rest of the team. Everyone except Natasha. She had given up her life so Clint could bring back the Soul Stone. After a tense interaction by the lake, they agreed that Nat’s sacrifice had to be worth it. It had to work.

Rocket and Tony fit the Stones into a Gauntlet. Thor argued to be the one to snap, his personal grief was leaking out. He wanted to do something right, to help fix what he didn’t stop. But Bruce was the one to snap. He said he was made for it since the radiation from the Stones was mostly gamma.

“Remember, just bring back everyone Thanos snapped away to today. Don’t change anything from the past five years.” Tony reminded his friend.

“Got it.” Bruce nodded.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. do me a favor and activate Barn Door protocol. Will you?” Tony asked as he gave Bruce space.

Metal sheets covered every window in the Compound, locking down the facility. Bruce put on the gauntlet, screaming in pain as the power surged his body. Painfully, he snapped his fingers before passing out, allowing the gauntlet to slide from his hand.

Everyone waited, time seemingly froze. They had no idea if it had worked. They started to wonder if it had been for nothing. Until Clint’s phone rang. It was his wife, his wife who had been lost in the Snap five years prior. They could hear the birds outside the Compound. Everything seemed to be looking up, until a barrage of missiles hit the Compound.

Back on Titan, you finished your original thought.

“-ever.” You said slowly, stepping in a small circle. Your dad was gone. But Quill and the rest of his friends were back, holding onto each other and checking on one another. Strange was there, watching as if he was waiting for something specific to change whatever path you were all on. “Peter…” When you didn’t get a response, you tried again. “Peter!?”

“What?” Quill yelled.

“Not you, moron.” You rolled your eyes. “Where’s my Peter?” You asked Strange.

“Why would I know that?” Strange questioned.

“You seem to know everything else.” You rolled your eyes. “While we’re at it, where’s my dad?”

“And Nebula.” Quill added.

“What happened?” You asked finally.

“Y/N?” Peter asked from the ground. He was laying on his back a few feet away from you.  “What the hell just happened?”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in relief. You rushed to his side and dropped to your knees. He quickly took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Are you alright?”

“Little queasy but otherwise, I think I’m alright.” He offered a small smile.

“Hey, promise me something.” You said quickly, your joy of seeing him again taking over any rational thoughts.

“Anything.” He grinned.

“Once everything is in the clear, you take me on a date.” You said with a smirk. “A real date too, not just hanging out at my place.”

“Uh, yeah!” He said happily. “Yeah, for sure. Any- anything you want, Y/N.”

“We need to get back to Earth.” Strange announced. “It’s been five years since Thanos and the fight on this planet. Thanos won and snapped his fingers, wiped out half of all life. The ones left on Earth managed to reverse what Thanos did, which is how we’re all here right now.”

“So where’s my dad?” You asked again, helping Peter to his feet. “If we’re all back and everything was reversed, why isn’t he here with us?”

“Your dad didn’t disappear when we did. He’s back on Earth but Thanos is there, right now. We need to get to Earth.”

“In case you forgot, my suit is wrecked.” You laughed. “When we fought Thanos last time, we got our asses kicked. What makes this time different? Is this the one?”

“I can’t tell you that. But it’s different because you’ll be together this time.” Strange vaguely answered. “Now, you need to get to your lab to deal with all of that.” He gestured to your lack of a suit, as well as the gash you had forgotten about.

Strange opened a portal to a lake house. He stepped through and motioned for you to follow. When you crossed through, you didn’t recognize the area. The lake was new. The house was new. A lot had changed in five years apparently. A gentle squeeze of your hand let you know Peter was with you.

“Wait…” You said, taking a couple cautious steps forward. “Where are we? I thought you were taking me to my lab. My suit is- I need-”

“You’re where you’re supposed to be.” Strange interjected. “Go to the front door.”

“I’m not going up to a random person’s front door.” You laughed. 

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter interjected quietly, pointing to something low behind you. You slowly turned and saw a small girl standing behind you, staring at you in confusion.

“Hi.” You said awkwardly. “What, uh- What’s your name?”

“Morgan.” She smiled. “Who are you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but saw something familiar around her neck. You knelt to her level, reaching for the pendant but deciding against it. You noted small details about her. Her brown hair, her round face. She seemed sweet, welcoming. Her eyes were kind, full of wonder and hope for the world. You wondered if she knew what happened five years ago.

“That’s a pretty necklace.” You commented. It was the prototype housing unit you designed. After you wore it, you realized you didn’t like the long necklace so you ditched it for the bracelets. The necklace was still a cute accessory, but you wondered how Morgan got it. “Can I ask where it came from?”

“Garage.” She said simply, her small fingers grasping the pendant. “Daddy said Y/N would let me have it.”

“Who’s Y/N?” You asked carefully.

“Daddy said she wanted to be a superhero, but she left. She was smart and popular.”

“Y- Your daddy?” You stammered. “Is your dad’s name Tony?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s just Daddy.”

“Okay, fair enough.” You chuckled. “Listen, I uh- I know your dad. Can you take me to the garage? The garage where you found the necklace.”

“I have to ask Mommy.” She held out a hand for you to take. You stood and took her hand, reaching quickly for Peter with the other. “Do you know Mommy too?”

“Y/N, it’s okay.” He nodded, squeezing your hand once before stepping back. Once you felt his grip disappear, you nodded for Morgan to start walking.

“Yeah.” You said suddenly, remembering she had asked a question. “I knew her a few years ago, before this super crazy thing happened.”

“Crazy?”

“Totally.” You nodded, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Mommy!?” She yelled as she entered the home. “I found Y/N!”

“Wha- How did you know?” You said, stopping in your tracks.

“Daddy talks bout you a lot.” She said before pointing to a collection of photos on the wall. “And your picture is everywhere.”

“Huh.” You smiled. “Guess he did miss me.”

“Morgan, honey, what are you yelling about?” Your mom came around the corner. “Oh my god.”

“Hi mom.” You smiled, hurrying across the room to hug her tightly.

“I can’t believe it.” She mumbled into your shoulder. “You’re here. Oh, my god, you’re here. Your dad really did it.”

“Wait, Dad? What did he do?” You asked, the smile still stuck on your lips as you pulled away slightly. “How did he do it?”

“Your dad figured out time travel, Y/N.” She said, still in amazement.

“That’s awesome.” You laughed. “But also terrifying! Anyway, Morgan said she found some of my stuff in the garage… I need to reload my bracelets and if there’s time, update to Dad’s new network.”

“You’re not gonna find what you need in the garage.” She shook her head, heading to a table in a room off of the Living Room. “One, cause it’s a mess. Two, cause your dad told me to give you these if you came by.”

She handed you a set of bracelets, engraved with an arc reactor and the word Stark. They fit your wrist perfectly, a slight blue tint to the metal. They were light, light enough that you could barely tell you were wearing them.

“Woah.” You mumbled in amazement. “These are awesome.”

“And fully upgraded from what I heard.” Your mom added.

“No shit.” You exclaimed, tempted to tap them together and see what upgrades your dad gave you.

“Shit.” Morgan repeated from beside you.

“No, no, no!” You exclaimed quickly. “That’s an adult word, Morgan. You can’t say it.”

“Shit.” She giggled.

“No!” You whined. “Mom is gonna kill me!”

“You’re right about that.” She nodded.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” Strange said, suddenly at your side. “But we need to go. Pepper, you’re gonna wanna suit up and come too.”

“I forgot about Rescue!” You exclaimed.

“What about Morgan?” Pepper countered.

“Happy Hogan.” He said, gesturing to Happy who was sitting on your parents’ couch. “We have to go now. Steve Rogers is standing up to Thanos alone.”

“Alone?” You asked, a heavy feeling in your chest. “Where’s my dad?”

“We have to go.” Strange said simply.

“If I get there and he isn’t okay-” You said seriously, knocking your bracelets together. “You are going to be the one to answer for it.”

The suit was remarkably light. You watched the reflection in the window as the nanites spread to cover your body. It moved with ease, as if you weren’t wearing a suit at all. The design was sleek, the way you had always made your suits. It was colored to mimic your dad’s, but your dad had added more gold accents to yours. You wondered what else your dad had upgraded it with, but you knew you’d find out in time.

Strange turned and opened a portal for you, Peter, and your mom to step through. Your mom hurried into the room wearing Rescue. You all quickly went through, armed and ready to fight. The scene you came out to was insane. Strange and his friend Wong had gathered everyone willing to fight.

You recognized T’Challa and his sister Shuri, who you had yet to meet but knew to be brilliant. You saw Bucky and Wanda on the other side of the battlefield. Hundreds of people from Wakanda, spaceships full of people, a woman on a Pegasus, a woman who could shrink the way Scott could. People from all over the universe were collected for the fight.

You saw who you thought was Thor, now holding an axe and seemingly gained a belly the size of a basketball. Steve had a broken shield and Mjolnir, which didn’t quite surprise you. But you still couldn’t see your dad.

“Do you see him?” You asked Peter.

“I do.” Your mom answered. “He’s alright.”

“Avengers..” Steve said over comms. Your body tensed, your heart rate picked up. The adrenaline began rushing through your veins. You weren’t quite sure if it was fear or excitement taking over your thoughts, but you let it wash over you. You looked out at the vast army before you, stretching into what seemed like forever. You sent out a silent prayer to whatever God would hear you, asking to keep you on the one path that would save everyone. “Assemble.”

All hell broke loose. Fighters charged from either side. You were separated from Peter early, having to fend for yourself. Your new suit was highly responsive, picking up on things before they entered your peripherals. The power it had was insane, cutting through Thanos’ army like butter. Your dad had added new extensions to the suit; displacer sentries, stabilizing thrusters, energy refocusers, an upgraded unibeam, and liquid nitrogen cannons. 

Finally, you made your way to your dad. The fighting seemed to go around you two, as if the universe knew you two needed a minute. You let your helmet fall away, as did your dad. You both stood frozen for a minute, wondering if it was real.

“I got back and you were gone.” You said simply, your throat now tight. You blamed it on the dirt being kicked up from the fight. “Strange didn’t tell me where you were… Kinda freaked me out.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna hang out on an abandoned planet for five years.” He tried to joke. “Had to get back to your mom.”

“When I came back, I- I thought you-” You felt the tears coming. “I thought you were gone, Dad. And not just gone, like somewhere else, but gone as in dead. And then I thought how I didn’t want to live without you and I- I got really scared, Dad.”

“Y/N/N..” He said gently. You quickly closed the distance between you two and hugged him tightly. “It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“I love you, forever.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“And ever.” He smiled.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. “You have to tell me how you did it later. Time travel!? That’s insane. Oh! And Morgan, she’s super cute.”

“Morgan?” Tony eyebrows furrowed. “You met Morgan?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah, I met her when I went to get Mom and this awesome new suit.” You smiled, gesturing grandly to the suit you wore. “Which is incredible, by the way. I’m in love.”

“Hey! Holy cow!” Peter exclaimed as he ran into your dad. “You will not believe what’s going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must’ve passed out, because I woke up and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.’ and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time and-”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as Peter rambled. Your dad was watching him with a soft look in his eyes, glancing quickly between Peter and you. Tony felt a deep sense of relief, a heavy weight lifted from his chest by seeing you two in front of him. The two people that he wanted to bring back were now in front of him. You stepped behind Peter and nudged him forward. Peter stumbled into Tony, who hugged the boy tightly. “This is nice.” Peter said gently.

“As grateful as I am to have you two alive, we have bigger issues.” You commented, seeing the van that was sounding off with La Cucaracha. “We need to get the Stones to that van.”

“How long do you need to get it working?” Tony asked Scott.

“Ten minutes, maybe.” He answered.

“Who has the Stones?” You asked as you, your dad, and Peter jumped back into the fight. You dodged attacks from either side, effortlessly spinning and ducking shots and projectiles. You saw Clint running through the crowd, one arm tucked against his chest. “Clint has them but he’s gonna need help.”

You were headed that way when you felt your leg being dragged down. You looked and saw a Chitauri soldier had grabbed your ankle and was pulling you down to the ground. You let yourself fall for a moment before turning gravity against the Chitauri and getting your feet aligned with it’s chest. You bent your knees slightly, using the alien as a push off. The thrust from your boosters burnt the Chitauri’s wrist to the point where it released you. You quickly shot off a blast to put a hole in it’s chest as it hit the ground. Your attention turned back to Clint as you saw him become surrounded.

“Hey.” Tony told Strange below you, causing your path to stop so you could listen. “You said one out of 14 million we win, yeah? Tell me this is it.”

Strange glanced up and saw you waiting for his answer. “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

You rolled your eyes within your helmet and took off. T’Challa got to Clint so you changed your course. You decided on a bit of revenge until you were needed to help move the Stones. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me locations on Thanos and Peter.”

“Peter is approximately 36 feet to your left with Shuri, no critical damage to the suit indicates no dire injuries.” Her automated voice answered quickly. “Thanos is six feet straight ahead. Maximoff approaching the target.” She showed you a zoomed image of where the Titan was.

“Keep me posted when those Stones change hands.” You ordered as you landed next to Wanda.

“You took everything from me.” She said angrily.

“From us.” You added, charging a blast from your palm.

“I don’t even know who either of you are.” Thanos replied.

“You will.” Wanda said simply, her eyes glowing red as her power swirled around her.

You stood watching in awe for a moment before remembering where you were. You shot your blast at the charging Thanos, knocking him off balance. Wanda quickly followed up with two huge rock piles, both were knocked in pieces by his sword. Wanda launched quick bursts at him, each one more powerful than the last.

You flipped over Thanos, sending off shots from above and then behind him. Together, you and Wanda brought the Titan to his knees. Wanda kept applying pressure, Thanos groaning in pain.

“The Stones have transferred hands to Peter.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you.

“You got this?” You asked, your focus now completely shifted. “I gotta go.”

“Go.” She nodded.

You took off quickly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. guiding you to Peter’s location. You find him surrounded by Chitauri, but his artificial limbs assisted him in the fight. You landed with enough force to push the last few Chitauri away from him and into someone else’s attack.

“You know, I was on the fence about the instant-kill. But it came in handy, didn’t it?” You joked.

Peter chuckled before more Chitauri came at you both. They grabbed at you, throwing you to the side and focusing on Peter. Everytime you tried to help, five of them shoved you off. You heard Peter call for help, to which Steve threw Mjolnir for him to grab. You took off ahead of the Hammer, hoping to keep a clear path for Peter. Peter shot a web, using Mjolnir as a ride out of the chaos.

A shot from one of the ships sliced Peter’s web, sending him to the ground fast. You dropped until you were able to grab him.

“I’m always having to help you out, aren’t I?” You commented teasingly as you tossed him to the woman on the Pegasus. You flew alongside her until a shot came too close for you to successfully dodge and threw you into Peter. It knocked him off the Pegasus and sent both of you crashing to the ground.

Peter had gotten up and tried to run, to get the Stones a little bit closer. A blast from the cannon landed right in front of him, sending him flying backwards so he would land in front of you. The impact shattered his artificial limbs and he let his mask fall away. He grabbed the gauntlet and tucked into a ball to protect himself from the shots still coming. You pushed yourself to your side as you put up an energy shield over you and Peter.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., what are they firing at?” Tony asked as some of the cannons changed direction, the question playing in your helmet too as the system showed a projection of an incoming object.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere.” She responded.

“Let’s hope it’s on our side.” You mumbled, momentarily dropping the shield to watch.

You looked up to see a bright flash of light break through one of the ships, disabling it and going through it once again to slice it in half. You were so impressed by the power it had that you almost didn’t notice the falling rubble. 

“Little help would be nice!” You yelled over comms as you threw up another shield, to which Steve asked Danvers to help. You had assumed Danvers was the one who broke the ship in half so you kept still until help arrived. You dropped the shield and stared in awe as Peter spoke.

“Hi.” He said quickly, still keeping the gauntlet close. “I’m Peter Parker. She’s Y/N Stark.”

“So cool.” You said simply.

“Hey, Peter Parker.” She chuckled. “Y/N Stark. I saved your dad once. He ever tell you that?”

“He did not. But I came back to a giant war so there hasn’t really been time..” You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet and put your helmet on again.

“You got something for me?” She asked Peter, nodding towards the Stones.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.” Peter said tiredly as he stood and handed over the gauntlet.

You noted how tired he was, how beat up he was. But he was still ready to fight. Your heart ached, and you quickly realized that you didn’t just like Peter Parker. You loved Peter Parker. The revelation didn’t surprise you, but you wished it had come at a better time than that moment.

“Don’t worry.” Wanda said as she landed next to you.

“She’s got help.” One of the Wakandan warriors who you later learned to be Okoye added. Your mom joined the group, along with Pegasus woman, Valkyrie. Mantis, Hope Van Dyne,  and Nebula showed up, along with Shuri and Nebula’s sister, Gamora. Together, you fought through the army to get the Stones to Scott’s van.

You and your mom focused your fire high, aiming at ships and taller enemies. You followed behind Danvers, working on keeping her path clear. Thanos charged Danvers, dead set on stopping her for the Stones. You, your mom, Shuri, and Hope shot beams at him, knocking him to the ground.

“After this, you gotta show me how you made those.” You yelled to Shuri, who looked over and laughed slightly. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Shuri. You seem to be doing well with what you have.” She teased. “Is it new?”

“First time in it.” You answered with a proud nod. 

“Really, Y/N?” Your mom commented. “Now? Your dad just upgraded that suit for you.”

“You wanted me to make friends.” You defended, focusing back on the task at hand.

You all added extra force to throw Thanos back. He rolled, lifting his attention to where Danvers was headed. Since you all wouldn’t let him get to Danvers, he decided to destroy where she was headed. He threw his sword into the tunnel, destroying it and sending a massive energy wave that launched everyone back.

“The gauntlet is about twenty meters behind you.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. “Mr. Stark can reach it but Thanos is already on his way.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” You replied, pushing yourself to your feet. You took off in a sprint before pushing off a short ledge, taking flight and headed that way. You watched your dad tackle Thanos before getting elbowed away. Thor and Steve kept him back, using Mjolnir and Thor’s new axe to their aid. Danvers beat you there and fought him off a minute, until Thanos threw her to the side.

You helped your dad up to his knees and watched Thanos put the gauntlet on. You and your dad dropped your masks, not worried about them anymore.

“Not again.” You whispered fearfully.

Danvers came back just in time, stopping him from snapping his fingers. She had the upper hand until Thanos pulled out one Stone and used it to send her flying. Strange looked over at you two, holding up one finger to tell you both that there was only one way.

Your dad stood slowly, understanding what he was meant to do. You understood it at the same time so you grabbed his hand, hoping to pull him back to you. “Dad, please.” You begged. “No. No! It’s not worth it.”

“I can’t lose again.” He said softly.

“Think about Morgan.” You tried desperately. “A-and me. I just got you back.”

“I am thinking of you two.” He replied gently. “I love you, forever.” He said before running to Thanos, trying to take the Stones from him.

You looked to Strange again in anger. You wanted to take it out on Strange, but the look he gave you made you reconsider. Strange looked at you as if you had a role to play, as if it wasn’t just about Tony. You and your dad had been through everything together. You had been glued to his side since Loki first arrived in New York. Every fight, every training session, every injury, and every upgrade you were there. You started it together. You had to end it together.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., did my dad ever add the suit-to-suit interface to exchange nanites?” You asked quickly, running through the possibilities. “If he gets those Stones away from Thanos, it’s too much energy for him to handle. It needs to be dispersed.”

“It’s added but I’ll need time to activate it.” Her automated voice said. “Opening the entirety of both suits to interface with each other-”

“I don’t need a whole suit.” You cut her off. “My left palm. His right shoulder, upper shoulder. Clavicular region.”

“Less than a minute. Initiating interface.”

You ran over to your dad as he was knocked away. Your steps froze when Thanos raised his hand again and your dad laid face down.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos said in triumph. You braced for the second Snap, but nothing happened. You noticed a faint glow from your dad’s suit so you started running again.

“Interface available in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Interface active.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced to you.

Tony knelt in front of the Titan, Stones in hand. He shoved them into his suit, a Stone aligned with each knuckle. He thought about what he was going to do, the risk he was going to take. Someone had to do it, and it seemed only Tony could. But his mind brought back words that weighed on his heart..

Years ago, Steve had told him “The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

Peter said “I just wanted to be like you.”

Y/N had argued “I don’t know how to live a life without you and I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to!”

Morgan had told him with a smile “I love you, 3000.”

Pepper once told him “You’re all I have too, you know.”

Y/N would always say “I love you, forever.”

But the heaviest one was what Strange had told him just minutes before, “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

“And I…” Your dad panted. You could see the power of the Stones coursing up his suit, scorched marks climbing to his neck. You got to him quickly, standing beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the energy diverting up into your body as the nanites mixed.

It was white hot, burning every cell in your body. It was intense, scorching every nerve it touched. Your fingers trembled, your pulse beat unevenly. Your stomach muscle clenched, your knees shook. But despite it all, you stood tall. You gathered yourself with a deep breath and spoke.

“We.” You emphasized.

“We-” Your dad nodded slightly.

“-are Starks.” You two said together before he snapped his fingers. The surge brought you to your knees beside your dad, who used his other hand to reach across himself and steady you. You made sure to keep your left hand where it was, refusing to move it until you could get the Stones out. You two watched as every soldier Thanos brought, his whole army, turned to dust the way you did five years ago. Thanos sat on a nearby rock as he turned to dust himself.

You and your dad manage to get to a nearby debris pile where you turned and leaned your backs against. Your dad coughed as you reached over and pulled the Stones from his suit and dropped them next to you. You saw the relief in his posture once you took the Stones away.

“One hell of a day back.” You tried to joke, to which you both laughed weakly.

“You shouldn't have done that, Y/N/N.” Tony said weakly.

“There was only one way, remember?” You countered. “I had to. We started this together, we end it together.”

“Love you, kiddo.” Your dad smiled at you.

“Forever.”

“And ever.”

“Y/N?” Peter said gently. “Mr. Stark?” Peter ran up to you both, falling to his knees between you two. He gently took one of your hands in his. “Hey. Can you guys hear me? It’s Peter. We won. Y/N, Mr. Stark, we won. You did it. You guys did it.”

“You-” You coughed, smiling weakly at him. “You still owe me… a date, Petey.”

“Anywhere you want, Y/N/N.” He laughed sadly. He leaned forward and hugged both of you. “You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Maybe not this time.”

Gently, Peter was guided away from you two, tears slowly falling down his face and leaving streaks in the dirt that covered his cheeks. You smiled softly, knowing you really did love the boy. You wanted to get up and comfort him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you didn’t have it in you. You could barely manage to keep your eyes open.

Your mom knelt in front of you two where Peter was. She sighed gently, trying to put on a brave face, but she was hurt the most. Your heart sank when you saw the pain she was in. She was looking at two of the three people that meant the world to her, sitting before her and fighting for their lives. She had watched her family sacrifice themselves for the world, a sacrifice those two - especially those two - never should’ve had to make.

“Hey.” She said softly. “You’ve both looked better.”

“Hey, mom.” You said as your dad answered, “Hey, Pep.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She said, hoping for good news.

“Intense emergency surgeries needed. Immediate treatment raises survival rate by about 60%.” Her automated voice answered.

“Brother.” Shuri whispered to T’Challa as Pepper gently comforted her family. “I think I can heal them in my lab. They don’t have to die.”

“How would we get them there?” T’Challa asked honestly. He wanted to help them, but he didn’t think it’d be possible. “It is too far to guarantee there’d be time.”

“We can’t leave them to die here.” Rhodey commented. “We gotta at least take them home.”

“It’s okay.” Pepper nodded to you two. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You two can rest now.”

“Love you, Mom.” You whispered. “Tell Peter… Tell him I love him too.”

You smiled softly at your mother before leaning your head back against the debris. Your eyes drifted shut, your body feeling heavy. You gave into the darkness as your dad did the same. The reactors in both of your suits faded to a dull glow, not quite off yet.

“The reactors aren’t off.” Peter noted, his voice strained from his pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. He had become so close to Y/N Stark to the point where he thought he loved her. She meant so much to him in the short time he knew her, so much so that he convinced himself she was his soulmate. He didn’t even believe in that kind of thing until he met her. Now he really wished he hadn’t hesitated. “They’re not gone.”

“Peter-” Steve tried to console him. Steve was feeling the loss too. He was devastated. Y/N and Tony were both practically family to him, the only family he had left. And now they were gone. They gave up their lives to save the world. Steve felt a pang of guilt, that even though they got everyone back, they still lost. Steve had insisted on it, that they would win this time around, but they still managed to lose.

“I can hear it!” He yelled, his voice breaking. “Their hearts are still beating.” He looked back to Y/N and Tony, their eyes shut. “They’re not gone. Just look!” He threw both hands forward, gesturing to the center glow of their chests.

“So what do we do then?” Thor asked. “The Compound is ruined. How are we supposed to help them?”

“Take them home.” Carol suggested. “You, Sparkles.” Carol pointed to Dr. Strange. “You can make portals. Make a portal to take them home, and then we go from there.”

“What do you actually think we can do for them?” Strange questioned defensively. “Those Stones-”

“I think that Peter Parker is onto something.” Carol countered easily. “Make a portal to take them home.”

“They won’t survive.”

“If you’re so sure,  at least let them die somewhere they’d be comfortable.” She rolled her eyes.

“We have the technology to heal them.” T’Challa spoke up. He figured it was the least he could do, to offer whatever Wakanda could give to help. “If you can get them home and keep them stable, Shuri and I can get what we need and bring it to you. But we’d have to hurry.”

“And you’re sure they’re alive?” Strange asked Peter.

“One hundred percent.” He responded confidently, his eyes on Y/N. “I know it.”

Strange opened two portals, one to Wakanda and one to the Stark’s lakehouse. Carefully, Rhodey scooped up Tony and Peter carried Y/N. Pepper went through first, hurrying to get Morgan out of the house so she wouldn’t see what her dad and sister looked like. Tony and Y/N were carried to their rooms and gently set up in their beds.

Wong helped the rest of those who fought get home. Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Thor followed the Stark family to their home, as did Carol. Dr. Strange went with T’Challa so he and Shuri would have a quick way back to Tony and Y/N. Pepper asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to disable the suits so their housing units could be taken off and to keep their vitals posted. Both of their pulses were extremely weak, but they were still there. They were both put on ventilators - Tony kept a few on hand just in case the Compound wasn’t the best option for treatment - and were given an injection of painkillers.

Peter had been right.

Pepper stayed with Tony in their room, while Peter argued to stay with Y/N. Steve had offered, told Peter he should get home and get some rest, but Peter set himself up in the window nook and refused to get up.He had washed the dirt and blood off his face and out of his hair, his wet curls still dripping onto his shirt slightly. Despite using cold water to wake himself up, he still just wanted to curl up and sleep.

He called May after Steve left the room and went downstairs to talk to others. He had taken off his suit, leaving him in the clothes he had worn to the field trip, before he had gotten on the spaceship. 

“Hey, May.” Peter said tiredly. He was exhausted, every muscle ached. He wanted to lay in his own bed and sleep for a year, but he knew what his priority was at the moment. “You okay?”

“Where are you, Peter?” She asked anxiously. “I- I called you twelve times and you didn’t answer. Are you okay? You- you never came home from your MOMA field trip and I-”

“I’m fine.” Peter cut in. “I- I got caught up in that dusty thing a few years ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I did too.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “Come home, Peter.”

“I can’t.” He said sadly. “Y/N, she got hurt real bad, May… I can’t leave her right now.”

“You love her, don’t you?” May asked, a small smile on her lips that Peter didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“Yeah.. I think I do.” Peter chuckled nervously. “I never got a chance to tell her.”

“You’ll get one… Don’t miss it.”

“Love you, May.”

“Love you too, Peter. Text me before you go to sleep and call me in the morning.”

“Will do.” And with that, Peter hung up the phone.

A small knock on the door sounded before it was cracked open enough for a small child to slip inside. She shut the door carefully behind her, as if she was used to sneaking around the house. She ran across the room until she stood in front of Peter, looking at him with her head tilted slightly. Slowly, unsure of what to do, Peter pulled his legs to his chest to make room for her. She climbed into the open space and crossed her legs, dropping her hands in her lap.

“Morgan, right?” Peter asked, leaning his head back as he tried to stay awake.

“Who are you?” She asked plainly.

“Peter Parker.” He gave a lazy salute.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

Peter chuckled. “No.. Not yet, at least.”

“You like her?”

“I do.” He nodded with a lazy smile. “I like her a lot.”

“She’s pretty.” Morgan said, as if Peter hadn’t noticed that. “Is she hurt the way Daddy is?”

“How do you know that?”

“I was sneaky.” She whispered, bringing one finger to her lips to emphasize how quiet she was. Peter chuckled in response.

“Yeah, Y/N is hurt.” Peter said carefully. “But she’s gonna be okay. You know why?”

“Cause she’s like Daddy.” She said confidently. “And Daddy is Iron Man.”

“Yeah, but also because she has to come back to her family. You and your mom and-”

“And you.” Morgan cut in. “Want to make a card with me?”

“You go get started and I’ll meet you down there.” Peter responded, holding out his pinky. “I just need a minute and I’ll go downstairs after. Pinky promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded, quickly finishing the pinky promise. “Bye, Peter!” She said before quickly sneaking out of the room, leaving just Y/N and Peter.

“When we met, I never thought we’d end up here..” Peter said to Y/N, even though he knew she probably couldn’t hear him. “After everything we’ve been through, it kinda seemed like you were invincible. Nothing could really take you out like this. I mean, yeah, we both came out of everything with some sort of aches and pains, but not like this.

“I know you’re fighting for your life, Y/N/N. And I know you have your own reasons to fight, but I gotta ask you to fight for me. Please… I just- I love you, Y/N Stark. And I want to be able to tell you when you can actually acknowledge it. I- I want to take you to parties and school dances. I want you to come to Decathlon a-and laugh at how easy the questions are because you’re brilliant.” He chuckled lightly before closing his eyes, curling in on himself a little more. “Just come back for me, please.”

A light knock sounded before Shuri entered, a cart of equipment being led in behind her. Two Wakandan soldiers followed behind with her equipment, setting things up while Shuri went and spoke to Peter. Peter sat up slowly, unsure of how long he had been asleep.

“We can take it from here.” She told Peter, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should get something to eat, Peter. You look starved.”

“Yeah..” He nodded slightly. “But I have a card to make first.” He smiled lazily before taking one last look at Y/N. “She’s gonna make it, right?”

“I’m going to do everything I can.”

“Oh, she kinda got stabbed like right here-” Peter’s hand hovered over Y/N’s side, where he remembered Thanos using her suit’s blade against her. “That was before we got dusted so I don’t know if it’s still there but…” He shrugged, pausing to decide if he wanted to ask his next question. “How’s Mr. Stark doing?” Peter asked carefully, now fully knowing if he was ready to hear how his mentor was. “Is he gonna..”

“Mr. Stark is going to be okay.” Shuri promised. “We could not save his arm, but we saved him. The only thing I don’t know is how soon he’ll wake up. His injuries were rather traumatic and that kind of shock takes a toll on the human body.”

“Thank you.” Peter said honestly. “For being on my side back there and believing they could be helped. And for being willing to help them.”

“The world owes them a debt that can never be repaid.” Shuri said honestly, scanning Y/N with her Kimoyo Beads. “It is the least I could do.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Peter nodded before heading downstairs to join Morgan in her card making.

Steve handed Peter a plate of food and two water bottles, reminding Peter that he had to take care of himself too. Most of the adults stayed in the other room, discussing their worry in quiet whispers. Carol sat with Peter and Morgan around the coffee table, each of them making a card. Morgan was finishing her card for Tony, while Peter worked on one for Y/N and Carol made one that was meant for both of them. Carol and Peter took turns telling jokes or making fun of their own drawings to make Morgan laugh. By the time they were done, they each made a card for Y/N and Tony, until Morgan fell asleep against Peter.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” Carol asked Peter once Morgan was asleep.

“Y/N and Mr. Stark believed in me when no one else did.” Peter began fondly. “When I went with them to Germany to fight Captain America, she told me that I was going to have to put up with her for a long time. She told me that she wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen to me, that we had to stick together. But now... It’s different. When she smiles at me, I feel dizzy. When she laughs, I can’t help but laugh with her. Even when she looks at me, I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I can explain it.” She smirked at him. “That’s love, kid.”

“It is?” Peter asked. “That’s kinda what I had hoped it all meant.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

“I had a chance… But I hesitated.” He admitted, remembering on Titan when he wanted to kiss her. “But if I had known this would’ve happened-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know.” She cut him off. “What matters now is if you’re gonna hesitate next time?” She challenged.

“God, I hope not.” Peter chuckled.

Soon, Shuri and her brother, along with the two Wakandans that came with her, were coming down the stairs. Most of the equipment was packed and being carried with her. Peter was careful not to move and wake Morgan when Shuri came downstairs.

“They’re both going to make it.” She said with a proud smile. “However, there are some things we could not fix.”

“Like what?” Steve asked tensely.

“We could not save Mr. Stark’s right arm. The damage was too severe.” Shuri explained. “They’ll both have burn scars up into their chest and neck area. Mr. Stark’s may even reach the side of his face. As for Y/N..” She paused to show a detailed image of the inner workings of the lower arm, the nervous system breakdown and muscular system. “This is what her right arm looks like, the one that didn’t take on the energy of the Stones. And this-” She swiped to a new image, an image where some of the nerves were in pieces. “-is her left arm. Unfortunately, her damage seemed to have found its way to her nervous system. Some nerves were seared through, meaning she has lost all sensation in her left arm, as well as some of her finer motor control.”

“So what exactly does that mean for her?” Pepper asked anxiously.

“It means she will not be able to fully move her fingers and possibly her wrist, and she won’t physically feel anything at any point on her left arm. But she will live.” Shuri explained. “I’ve also healed a stab wound she had from her first fight with Thanos, and there won’t even be a scar.. They should wake in a few days. They are both on IV drips with painkillers. I’ve done all I can.”

And with that, Shuri left. One by one, the rest of the Avengers that were there left. Peter left the following morning, having fallen asleep on the floor with Morgan. Happy drove him home, but Peter fell asleep again on the way. His body was more exhausted than he had been letting on, and now it had caught up to him.

He tried to get back to normal life. He went back to school, saw Ned and MJ. He went back to Decathlon, but it just didn’t feel right to him until he could hear your voice again. A few days after he was settling back in, he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Spiderman.” You said. Your voice was as sweet as honey, making his heart beat three times faster. “Got time for a visit?”

“For you?” Peter replied, pretending he had to think about it. “Definitely. Where at?”

“Right here.” You said, stepping out of the car to stand in front of him. “Hey, Peter.” 

“Hi.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing you standing before him, your long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to the top to hide the burns, it made his chest feel tight. He wanted to hug you, to pull you against his chest and never let you go. But he hesitated, just slightly. His biggest concern was how fragile you were.

“You’re looking at me like you’re scared.” You commented, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am!” He promised quickly. “I am happy to see you. I just… I have something I want to tell you.”

“I have something I need to tell you too… But it can wait till that date you owe me.” You winked.

“No, it can’t wait.” Peter said, swallowing hard and gathering all his courage. “I wanted to tell you this back on Titan, but I chickened out.”

“Peter, it’s not that serious.” You laughed nervously. “It can wait until tonight, okay?”

“No. It can’t.” He insisted, grabbing your hand. “Y/N, I- I love you and I really want to be with you.”

“That’s great.” You smiled widely, squeezing his hand gently.

“What?”

“Peter, I realized something before this.” You gestured to your left arm. “When Carol came to help us, and I got a good look at how beat up you were but you were still willing to fight… When we were on the beach and you wanted to make sure Toomes didn’t die even though we were on opposite sides… When we were in Germany and you said you trusted me… There are so many little moments between now and the moment I met you that have brought me to this one, single, recurring idea.”

“And what idea is that?” Peter asked smugly, taking a step closer to you. Suddenly, his confidence was through the roof.

“That I love you, Peter Parker.” You smiled widely. “And I really want to be with you.”

“That’s… amazing.” He sighed happily. “Otherwise this could’ve been really awkward."

[ofgeneticperfection]

Scarlet’s chain of sweetness

Courtesy of  @madamdirectcr

5 THINGS YOU LOVE ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER.

1. Indomitable - She pretty much does what she wants, how she wants, whenever she wants. If she wants something? She manipulates her way into getting it. She doesn’t stop until she has it and hardly anything will sway her otherwise. She’s extremely hard to control when determined and set on a task in mind. She’s hard to control period. She’s got a streak of wild, impulsive, and loves to toy with others be it malicious or just to tease.  Her will is near impossible to break and she never believes that she can’t do something even if it is the impossible. Atop of that she’s fairly hard to defeat physically, she’ll bring more than a challenge if ever attack or if a loved one is ever hurt. I’m not saying that she can’t be brought down because she can, but it’s going to take more than a couple of hits.

2. Emotional Depth-  There’s not just one tier to Isrieal, there’s a million and it’s a labyrinth. She comes off as cold, arrogant, prideful but that’s the main wall that she hides behind. She’s strong and will exude complete confidence most of the time while being sly, cunning, coy, and whatever else she can throw at you. These are the emotions she shows to the world but the rest she’s buried so deep inside that she forgets they even exist. Inside she’s broken, sad, lonely, tormented but she has her ways of hiding them and biting back the pain that feeling these emotions brings. It’s from the conditions she’s been stuck in for her whole life at Hojo’s mercy and the lies she’s had to tell herself to make it easier to handle. Of course, this naturally makes her volatile with bursts of anger or other strong emotions and if she let’s one slip out they all come spilling out sooner or later. She does have a tendency to use special sedative injections to subdue these emotions whenever she feels any starting to well up. Deep under it all, however, she loves with all of her heart once she is sure that she will not be hurt. She’s always afraid of that in a way, but there is no in between. You have her all or you have her nothing. But once there she is quite passionate and protective and more soft and innocent then she’d originally lead you to think. 

3. Manipulative - Life is a game and she plays to win. At least that’s how one survives in ShinRa. She learned from one of the best manipulators out there and now she’s known to even manipulate the Professor himself. She rose herself from experiment to assistant Director by playing him and she plays everyone around as she sees necessary in order to get what she needs. She often shows what she wants to show and nothing more, near every move and every article of clothing is precisely calculated towards whomever she is meeting with. Of course, only if you don’t know her well. 

4. Deals with the Devil- Oh yes, she loves to make deals but don’t worry they’re mostly fair and she is one to keep to her word and her promises. Despite her demeanor she is quite loyal when she promises something. If you work out a trade or a bargain she’ll do her best to uphold her end of it, getting you what you want in return. There is a lot that can be traded between science and other departments after all and she’s not afraid to go behind the Professor’s back here and there if it means obtaining something she’s personally after in the end. 

5. A.I Alien - Lastly, yes I love the fact she is a hybrid and loves to play with quantum theory and A.I in the future. I always love the sci-fi aesthetics and concepts and the idea of something beautiful having a monster inside. She’s at conflict with this part of herself, often not knowing how to fully accept it but at least she is in control of the cells and not the other way around. She’s also always been focused on uploading consciousness and prolonging and bringing others back to life since she doesn’t age. It’s from there that she gets pulled into quantum theories and eventually breaks through to a system A.I that she makes a deal with to her own advantage, but this is a plot I haven’t touched in a while. Really I love everything about her but these are some fun and dominating concepts. 

5 PEOPLE ON HERE YOU LOVE, AND WHY.

1. @animus-inspire Where do I start? Seriously. This was unexpected but yet one of the best things that has ever happened in my writing history. I love love love this ship and all the AU’s of it so much! And beyond that, it’s so rare to get me to talk a lot but I can’t seem to ever shut up around you xD. But, I LOVE talking to you and the connection we have and the fact that we have so many stinking ideas all the damn time and they all get played off each other so easily and that we can share the same obsessions and YES WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! But you are also one of the sweetest and most full of life people I know on here and I absolutely love writing with you, you’ve made it so great :3. And you are seriously best Reeve and have made me love all the Reeve. <3

2. @thefirstthaumaturge I’ve known you for about like, well.....well over 10 years xD And I love you more as the years go on. We’ve survived drama days together and now we can laugh about all the stupid RP stuff we did in the past. I also enjoy all of our new RPs and how great its been to see both our OCs grow and thrive in these communities. I also super love talking to you and playing video games with you and watching WestWorld and movies with you. Basically, you make everything super fun and I don’t know what I’d do without you around. I also love how we always manage to say/type the same things at the same time all the damn time xD Digital sisters but its as real as it gets. 

3. @shinraweirdscience @xbroken-science @insidious-scientist  I love all of my Hojo’s that deal with Izzy’s crazy ass and put up with me so thank you guys! I’m always down for crazy plots and all the trauma that comes with them so don’t ever feel bad about throwing anything at me or damaging Izzy. It’s what makes her her after all. And I find it all a lot of fun. I’m always ears for ideas so let me know!

4. @sadistic-second I don’t write a whole lot with you here but you’re always good company in the voice chats and you make playing games a lot of fun as well. I like our little group we have going on to do all the stuffs. I love all the gifs and icons you make, and the paracord is very creative as well. It’s always cool to see what you can do. Of course I like all the funny things too.   @apathetic-ruler  I have to say you’re writing is amazing, I love it! I haven’t wrote with your Ru but I love past life Ru xD One of these day’s I’ll figure out what to do with a Rufus I’m sure. 

5. @ivory-paragon We don’t write much but I love playing FFXIV with you and being in all your groups. It’s a very fun and enjoyable atmosphere and you make me laugh all the time. If I hadn’t found you I wouldn’t have found any of this awesome community and my great shippy ships that have come out of it. @rikelusshinra I love all of our RP’s and stuff too. You have a super amazing OC that seems to fit right in and I’ve loved writing with Rike. Even if you are busy now. It’s rare Izzy finds ships that work but you are one of those lucky ones that she fits well with and I love all the ideas we play with as well. So to my FFU peeps! Even if we don’t write on tumblr much I still love you both. 

Honorable mentions:

@cinderella-gurei God, you are the best Chadley and you break my damn heart all the time in our RPs. Izzy will never forgive herself completely but she’s glad to have you around and so am I! She will protecc forever. <3 

@madamdirectcr I love your Scarlet! I want to see what happes :3  @makeupandmateria Another lovely Scarlet I had to mention as well!

5  SONGS EITHER YOU OR YOUR MUSE REGARD AS A ‘GUILTY PLEASURE’ THAT ALWAYS MAKES YOU SMILE.

So okay, I’ve thought about this all day and I’ll do a few categories. Since I revolve around music so heavily and no lie have hundreds of my own music videos in my head for every song I’ve ever heard, yes I’m one of THOSE people. xD

So I’ll start with what I’ve been listening to lately that really fits in with WestWorld Izzy and Logan!Reeve ShinuestiLos xD I can’t seem to get Poker Face out of my head for her and a couple other Lady Gaga songs that fit in  Like this one too. 

Also I really love these songs but they are so random. This one mostly thanks to ARI, but I can never not listen to it when it comes on. Also Mortal Kombat. This song makes me so fired up every time I hear any variation of it xD. Even now! alkdjfsldjfsdljf, but I do really like this mix. 

Then we can’t forget those emo day songs. Mr. Brightside is one I can never resist singing. It’s just so damn good! Then there is Holiday by Greenday and can’t forget Miss Murder by AFI xD 

Now I have an extremely long list of electronic type, synth, darkwave, trance, whatever the heck categories they fall under that I just like to call my Robot music xD  Here’s a couple with AI themes that I’ll just throw out here. We Appreciate Power and quite literally A.I 

And lastly this one reminds me of Midgar so much and Izzy, but I always see her singing this if she ever made a music video. (which apparently she’s made many) But she’d definitely be in front of wall sized windows with Midgar in the background and the labs, and its also why she sometimes refers to it as Electric City, idk who the guy would be singing with her but if you want it to be you just let me know? Lol.  After all she is Indistinct. Ill Defined. Uncontrolled. Unconfined. 

Tagged by: @animus-inspire (this took me forever Reeeeeve x.x) 

Tagging: @thefirstthaumaturge

[psycho-slytherin]

Bonus chapter: Truth or Dare

Thanks to @minprismpowermakeup for the idea~ <3

Context: This takes place around Strangers ch. 33, after y/n and Yoongi have begun filming Moon Over the Sea. This content is not relevant to the main Strangers plot. 

WC: 1.8k love it when a bonus chapter is longer than some actual content

|mlist|

A/N: Namjoon really wrecked me during the awards stages ok I’m not projecting I’m just projecting

“Okay, y/n, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you yawn, making yourself comfortable. You’re sleepy, it’s past two in the morning, and you don’t wanna get up.

“Anyone got a good one for the token ARMY?” Hoseok asks, looking around at the other members sprawled on various pieces of furniture and carpet. You stick your tongue out at Hoseok on hearing your title.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Seokjin asks from below you, tipping a mostly-empty beer bottle at you.

“I already answered that, and no.” You swat the eldest member, who’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. “Bitch, I just ended a relationship and webcomics continue to convince me that men are trash. Besides, I barely get to sleep– when am I gonna have time to catch feelings?”

“Blehhh, boring.”

“I can drink if y’all can’t think of anything,” you say, already reaching for the bottle to refill your wine glass. Hey, you were feeling classy tonight.

“No, wait, wait, I have one!” Jungkook leans forward eagerly. “Have you ever written... fanfiction?”

Ah, shit.

You press your lips together to keep a straight face. Lately it seems you’ve been using more of your acting skills when you spend time with the boys than you do for school and work combined. “Have I ever, at any point, written fanfiction for any fandom? Yes.”

“Was it…” Jungkook leans even closer, his long hair almost hitting you in the face. “BTS fanfiction?”

You smile, choosing your words carefully. “Unfortunately, Kookie dearest, I already answered my truth.”

“She’s avoiding the question!” Jungkook hollers, far too loudly for the time of night. “You guys know what that means~”

It’s as though all signs of sleepiness have vanished– every member sits up, and with Jin’s weight off, you realize your legs have fallen asleep. 

“C’mon, guys…” you’re met with seven pairs of eager eyes, focusing on your favorite. “Et tu, Yoongs?”

A corner of Yoongi’s mouth turns upward in that oh-so-familiar smirk. “What can I say– I’ve got a cat’s curiosity.”

“Don’t let Holly hear that,” you reply, tossing a pillow at him. He snatches it out of the air without moving from his curled-up position in his favorite armchair. You’re reminded again of how he’s so adorable when he looks that small.

“So?” Jimin asks eagerly. “Have you ever written fanfiction about us?”

You could lie. God knows it would be easy. But the far more fun option wouldn’t be lying… it would simply be not telling the truth.

“I would love to answer that, but unfortunately it’s not my turn anymore,” you reply airily, delighting in the boys’ groans. “So, Joon, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Namjoon replies, his eyes confident. He really could bring anyone to their knees with just a glance. As your first bias, Namjoon has always had a special effect on you.

“I dare you to let Kookie and Tae tickle you.”

“Wait, what?”

You check your watch. “For, say, one minute.”

Namjoon backs away nervously from the predatory advance of the maknaes, all signs of bravado gone. “C’mon… ah, y/n, this is too cruel…”

“Who was it that dared me to drink a shot of soy sauce?” You ask smugly. “And who dared me to catcall Jin?” Your plan is to distract the boys, and luckily you have plenty of material to work with. Namjoon especially always seems perfectly sadistic when assigning dares.

“As if you weren’t thinking that stuff anyways,” Seokjin says dismissively.

You roll your eyes, focusing on the leader’s imminent torture. “One minute, starting… now!”

At your signal, Taehyung and Jungkook leap like feral dogs upon Namjoon, who falls to the floor with a thump, laughing uncontrollably: “Ah! Guys! S-sto-ah!”

You sit back in satisfaction as the clock winds down, figuring you’ve suitably distracted your friends from their original prey. 

Your hopes are dashed soon enough. Namjoon gets back up, fire in his eyes. “Y/n.”

Dammit. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“Truth or dare?”

Well, what does he think? “Dare.” Obviously. You’d die before letting them read the stories that you, in your lust-addled fangirl’s mind, wrote so long ago. 

“I dare you to give Yoongi hyung a hickey.”

Wait, what? “Yo, Joon, that’s not cool–” Yoongi is quick to complain, but Namjoon silences him with a raised hand. Meanwhile you’re frozen to your seat, feeling as though all your blood has simultaneously rushed into your face and fled your body entirely. Sure, you guys have toed the line of what’s proper during these late-night games, and as the only woman you’ve tended to get the brunt of it, but to give Yoongi a hickey? To press your lips, your tongue, your teeth to his smooth skin?

Now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure you’ve written that into a fanfic at some point anyways.

“Dude. No.” You say, at last finding your voice. “C’mon, that’s ridiculous.” You spare a glance at Yoongi, who you can tell is trying to keep a straight face. Still his clenched jaw and rapid blinking give away his anxiety, and– no. You couldn’t do something like that to Yoongi, who so clearly would hate it.

Namjoon raises a brow, his expression void of mercy. “You could always choose truth.”

You laugh nervously. You didn’t anticipate this, and now… “Can I take a drink instead?”

The leader shakes his head. When he speaks, it’s as though his voice is made of steel. When did he become so intense? “Nope. Truth or dare. Pick one.”

You inhale deeply. Dammit, Yoongs, you owe me one. “Truth.”

Immediately all tension melts from Namjoon’s gaze, and he breaks into the dorky grin you’re so familiar with. “Yes! Quick, guys, before she changes her mind!”

Your eyes widen. “No, wait–”

Hoseok pounces. “Have you ever written BTS fanfiction, and if so, what was it about?”

Fucking hell. You’ll get Joon back for this. 

“Uh…” Should you lie? Every instinct is telling you to steer the boys as far from the truth as possible. Still, you’re buzzed, and it’s late, and–

“Yes. I have.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, his nose scrunched as he slaps the couch. “I knew it!” The others celebrate in similar fashions:

“Ten bucks says it’s a ship fic!”

“Reader insert, it has to be.”

“Have you guys even heard Emo Y/n? I bet it’s super sad.”

You snatch Jungkook’s drink out of his hand and take a swig. You’re starting to realize you’re gonna need something stronger than wine if you want to survive the night. “How do you guys even know those terms? Who’s been corrupting you with Tumblish?”

“Twitter,” Taehyung replies, shuffling over and draping himself over the back of the couch, his head resting on your shoulder. “ARMYs kept tagging us, they thought we never saw.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Yoongi staring at the ground, smiling softly, his fingers laced together. Huh.

In the meantime, the remaining members have continued with their buzzword arguments. You begin petting Tae’s soft hair absentmindedly while waiting for the others to calm down and hopefully forget this entire conversation by morning.

“It’s probably crack.”

“No, fluff!”

“Angst, I told you!”

Jimin suddenly pipes up, his voice sleepy and soft. “What if it’s… smut?”

A hush falls over the room, and your breath catches in your throat. You don’t remember writing anything explicit, most romance scenes were mainly innocent, full of vague implications of other goings-on…

Wait. Your eyes widen. You did write that one scene, on a dare from Lisa… fuck. You rack your brain– what was it? You wrote it almost four years ago, you can hardly remember. It was about Namjoon, right? He was your bias around that time. 

“Y/n, would you ever write smut?”

“Ha, maybe if someone paid me!”

“Ooh! Is that a promise?”

It was all a joke, but you did end up posting it on your Tumblr at some point or another, classifying it as dumb and crackheaded. Regardless, that means it’s online. And that means…

They could find it.

“Y/n-ie?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your eyes and you jump, nearly colliding with him. “You zoned out for a bit~”

“S-Sorry.” You notice the boys are all still looking at you. “What?”

“Your truth. What was your fanfiction about?”

You sieze on the vague question. “Well, funny you should ask, I think I wrote one about Hobi here going to space, which was–”

“The hell? Did I die?” Hoseok whines. “Y/n, you traitor–”

“Wait, so you’ve written more than one?” Yoongi interrupts.

“I mean…” that’s safe to say, right? “Yes.”

Namjoon taps your shoulder. “Have you ever written smut?”

Jeez, what was with his confidence tonight? “I–”

“If you tell us the truth, we’ll make Joon hyung rap Expensive Girl,” Hoseok sings, swinging a shoe in his hand. Wait, is that your-

“Huh? Hold up, hold up, that wasn’t part of the deal!” Namjoon’s facade quickly fades in liu of genuine terror. 

Yoongi slowly rises for the first time that night, his grin nothing short of malicious. “You wanna play sadistic games? If Y/n completes her truth, you have to do that dare.”

“Y/n, I changed my mind, don’t tell us,” Namjoon begs, turning to you.

Oh. Oh, the power coursing through your veins. Either way, you win. You could keep your dark secret, or torture Namjoon just a little bit more. What a glorious choice to have.

“You know what?” You drain your wine glass, the alcohol lending you courage. Namjoon wanted to make you give Yoongi a hickey, he deserves this. And you were younger, a simple fangirl– besides, it’s not like they’re going to ask you to read it. “Yes. I did write a smut fic once. And you know what, Joon? It was about you.”

You giggle and sit back as the members do the “OHHHHH!” thing that boys never seem to grow out of. 

Instead of going red like you expected he would, a shit-eating grin spreads across Namjoon’s face. He seems more… well, pleased than anything. 

“What was it about?” he asks.

“Joon,” Yoongi warns, his voice a note deeper than usual. You shoot Yoongi a grateful smile– how does he know you so well? As for the fic, you genuinely don’t remember, but knowing it was smut, and knowing it was about Namjoon…

“I dunno, dude, probably some daddy kink shit.”

Namjoon cocks his head. “Daddy… kink?”

You jaw drops, and in your bordering-on-drunk state, you can’t help but blurt out: “You don’t know what a daddy kink is? I thought you had one!”

The leader scratches his head. “What?”

You can’t help but laugh, the drinks finally hitting you hard. “Oh my god. C’mon, gather round, my students.” You reach out, clasping Jimin’s and Jin’s shoulders. “let’s teach you guys about fanfiction.”

[posarmeklen]

Birth of the Antichrist

Hahahahahahahahaha. Hahahaha haha. Ohh ha ha ha ha. Sooooo, anyone want a list of some things that would most likely probably happen during/before/after/surrounding Jacknife's tender and special moment? No? Ok, here it is: - It would totally take place in the Doctor's de facto "hospital room" of sorts seen in the episode "Mayhem Donor". I was planning on going for that other hospital-like area in the prison from "Special Needs", but I figured this was a slightly less suitable place for the delicate process of labor, thus making it MORE appealing. - And offering up his space was the LAST of the Doctor's involvement with the pregnancy. He more or less took care of Jacknife while he rode out the end of his pregnancy at Superjail - mad scientist, obstetrician, same thing. However, the Doctor got SO fed up with Jacknife's terrible behavior during their appointments, such as Jacknife kicking him in the throat while on the exam table in hopes of snatching some rubbing alcohol up high on a shelf, that he relinquished every duty dealing with that son of a bitch and his demon spawn. So that left only Jailbot to attend the delivery for ““““moral support””””... and Jared, who the Warden ordered to tag along. It's not like Warden would be game to do that dirty work himself. Jared's already a basket case, never mind that he seems to be terrified of Jacknife, so suffice it to say he wasn't excited out of his mind for the new arrival. - The offspring actually reared his ugly head a month too early mainly because of Jacknife's poor lifestyle choices becoming disappointing prenatal habits. And it JUST SO HAPPENED that Jailbot couldn't help tending to a duty outside the confines of Superjail a day before the momentous surprise. Really... it was a terrible, terrible coincidence that no one likes to see happen. Therefore, with Jailbot MIA, that left Jared alone to "bond with" Jacknife for a good half of the experience. - The morning before the birth, Jacknife experienced one last big gust of chaotic energy. A not-so-calm before the storm, if you will. Feeling totally himself (the strange and ominous pains from last night were somehow gone for the moment!), his personality really sparkled through: sat around a table with a gaggle of the main inmates (this was part of a parental education plan set in motion by the Warden, to which every step had magnificently backfired; in this particular case, the objective was to teach Jacknife the general social skills he sorely lacks and might have needed to be a loving and agreeable parent), he cheated at poker, somehow got into an altercation with Lord Stingray, and physically drooled over an X-rated magazine that he snatched out of someone's hands as the guys half-jokingly gave him the sage advice of getting all his titty goodness in now before he came face-to-face with his bundle of joy. (Barely anyone REALLY thought he would ACTUALLY take on the responsibility of parenthood. They set the bar low after they saw what happened with "that Ultraprison broad".) Alas, Jacknife later leapt straight onto the table to reach for something in a way a pregnant person should not, and there reverberated a mighty splash! An already straining large-sized prison uniform was now drenched, and everyone knew the magic was surely moments away. - During the first moments in the "birthing center", Jared feared for his life as Jacknife, the cause for his terror, prepared to bring new life into the world. Soon enough, though, the ambiance took a turn. Jacknife got that dad sold my toys for booze look on his face. Water works were impending. Jacknife sniveled grossly as Jared reassurred him that he was sure he could do this, because he had already been through SO MUCH WORSE. I mean c'mon! "What's 7 or 8 pounds squeezing through a too-small hole?!" That was Jared's method of uncomfortably consoling someone whom he feels like HE needs consoling when in the presence of. He was freaked out. (Joke's on them. The abomination would slide comfortably over the 10-lb mark.) "Arrggggghrrrrr!!" Jacknife replied. (Their heartfelt moment was cut short from him tensing and sitting up at the discovery of another contraction.) - At long last, a rushed Jailbot burst into the room, demolishing the door as he zoomed into his rightful spot. Not before Jared sped up to him and began speaking inconspicuously through clenched teeth though. "Jailbot! Thank goodness you're here! He's...crazy...!" - As depicted above, Jared verbalized the strangeness of the situation while speaking words of encouragement to the convict. Meanwhile, Jailbot whipped out a metal tentacle arm with an accordion fan attachment from his limitless internal arsenal to fan the shit out of the very overheated Jacknife. - See that scowl on his screen? Take a good look. That's a >:[ of concern. Jailbot was at first absolutely ecstatic about getting to watch Jacknife experience childbirth - since it's of course world-renowned as the worst pain of one's life and putting Jacknife through pain is that sadistic machine's specialty. However, as the orifice that Jacknife would soon birth his child out of gradually opened up, so did Jailbot's heart............ <3 and he began to feel twinges of worry and well wishes for Jacknife and soon-to-be baby. Aaaaawww. - Jacknife flipped Jailbot off because classy and he can't say "You did this to me". - Jacknife also screamed bloody murder. In other words, it sounded like a typical Superjail intro. - Later on, things got super srs. Of his own accord, Jacknife changed position a bunch of times while displaying an uncharacteristic expression of focus because even absolutely feral career criminals "listen to their bodies" and "just know" during labor. Apparently. - Jailbot was the one to receive the dignified honor of Catching The Baby, after which he magically brandished a large pair of scissors and cut the cord too. At once, Jacknife flopped down flat on his back and let out an exasperated sort of groan out of sheer relief and exhaustion. But, in an instant, Jared made eye contact with him from behind Jailbot and tried to be a good sport: "Well, you're not pregnant anymore!" To which Jacknife responded by sitting up like a shot and grinning maniacally ear-to-ear at his newfound freedom. - Ever since it was revealed that Jailbot was the culprit of the knocking up of Jacknife through means such as accidental scientific intervention (of course before an encounter with Jailbot's vibrate mode under the stars), it was a total mystery to everyone as to what on God's green earth the product could actually be. Boy or girl? And aside from the traditional sex-guessing, (sub-)human, robot, or sinful in-between? So when a little mistake with nothing but the best of both worlds VIEW HERE came to say hello, Jacknife groaned in shock at the appearance of his new son, but it was all Jailbot could do not to be overjoyed at nature's wondrous meld of himself and his favorite felon. He was a bit concerned beforehand about the aftermath of a scandalous union between prison staff and inmate resembling him, but not when it *felt so right like this*. Now, all they had to do was remove the infant from jail premises asap. - The rest of the staff (well, the Warden and Alice) entered after the initial festivities. They all (the staff) got misty. Even Alice. It's because their Jailbot was officially a new parent now. They grow up so fast. - Meanwhile, Jacknife sat up in bed grudgingly and carelessly holding his spawn. With everyone totally enveloped in the feel-good event of the century, the four staff members simultaneously turned their heads toward him and smiled down at him encouragingly. Jacknife reciprocated the gesture by growling at them in resentment. - So it was then that Jailbot had an idea to diffuse the tension: He slid open an internal compartment and classically passed out cigars to the attendees of the room. After presenting the Warden, Jared, and Alice with theirs, he paused meaningfully when he got to Jacknife and reflected on the few times over the past couple months where he had to pry cigarettes and other non-pregnancy-friendly substances from his grubby hands. Now that the fetus was out, he felt more than happy to make a crook's day with a tobacco product. Jacknife was over the moon when he saw a metal claw outstretched to him grasping something to smoke, beaming as his jaw went slack and tongue lolled right out. And in order to free his hands to grab the cigar, he made a sacrifice as we sometimes must and tossed the infant off the side of the bed. Poor Jared happened to be standing there and BARELY caught the fortunate robot child totally improptu as he frowned in a panic with his teeth chattering away. Activate Jailbot emoticon for pissed. - And speaking of Jared, he addressed Jailbot and Jacknife and asked what the hell they were gonna do. Good question. :/  The violent mute duo were somehow legitimately excused from SJ for only a couple days so they could hang at Jacknife's place and do their equivalent of discussing their options. (They JUST came to the conclusion that they should not, could not, and ultimately would not actually parent their offspring together. Imagine that!) Jailbot came up with a modified means of transport for the journey away from Superjail (oooooooohh! That lucky robot's about to soak up the wrong side of the tracks!) since there was currently a third passenger in the equation, and who would trust Jacknife to hold a baby with two hands while sitting on a chair, never mind with one as he flew through the sky? That's my question. It turned out Jailbot conveniently morphed into a boxy vehicle with a seat and metal safety bar in front, like something out of an amusement park, and Jacknife sat inside with the kid. What do you know, the little shit got airsick because it was his first time and he graced Jacknife's flesh with some fresh bile. Gross man: "Eeeeeeeewww!" -  During the precious family moments, Jacknife's lack of grace as a parent was spelt out clear as day, as Jailbot temporarily assumed the brave role of single robotic father, more or less (although the "microscopic quotient of selfless love" Jacknife's been rumored to possess came out to play once in a blue moon in such manners as Jacknife scaring the ever-loving shit out of his offspring by pulling wacky faces at him from an already unsightly mug). Now, someone also had to nourish the fruit of their loins from the warmth of their own bosom, all the while said someone wished he could be the spectator instead of the participant and the participant could be someone with bazookas big enough to fill a bra. But alas! You can't always get what you want. Oh yeah and I'm not sure what becomes of the baby afterward yet. But let me tell you. He's goin' places.