#he has zero trust in her WHEN HE IS THE ONE GOING BEHIND HER BACK

[meiluu]

“Touch Her, and I’ll Kill You”

Leon S. Kennedy/ AFAB!Reader [no gendered pronouns, if there are let me know so I can fix it :D] cw: SMUT 18+, blood & gore, Leon goes feral, protective Leon, Plaga!Leon. Terms you may not be familiar with and their meanings: Round- the entire bullet and its casing, the bullet is the tip and the casing is the metal that surrounds it and holds gun powder which allows for the bullet to travel when the gun powder is ignited. Magazine- the term for rounds that are incased in either a type of metal or hard plastic and feed into a handgun or a rifle from the bottom. It is not the same as a ‘clip’.

not edited

Leon pov.

Leon was beyond pissed, this mission to save the presidents' daughter had gone from bad to fucking horrible. He was lucky enough to have another agent along with him, you. Someone who Leon cared for-trusted and you had been separated from him and Ashley. And he was losing what last bit of sanity he had left, he knew that you were strong, capable and so smart. All logic pointed to you being able to hold your own until they were able to find you, or until you found them. But Leon's heart was overruling his brain, taking full control, as his mind was in overdrive as it pushed each of his senses and his knowledge to try and find you. And all of this was pushed into the extremes now because of Leon being infected with the Las Plaga.

Saddler wished he could control the lethality that Leon possessed but the Plaga that he had been infected with seemed wholly under Leon's control and wouldn't respond to his commands.

With his guns at the ready, knife sharp enough to cut through anything, Leon was prepared to go to hell and back to get you. Having heard some spanish grumbles from one of the infected villagers giving him a much needed lead to find you. The chill air of the night nipping at his arms, the darkness of the night keeping him concealed as he made his way to a decrepit building. Turning back to make sure that Ashley was still in the secure spot he left her in- satisfied that she wasn't following him, he continued onward. Gun at the ready as he silently made his way into the building, once inside he made quick work of scanning his surroundings seeing no infecteds around, he moved further in. Footsteps light, measured breathing as Leon moved with a purpose, but that all falters when he hears your enraged cry.

There are hundreds if not thousands of stories out there that talk about feeling so angry that you see red. Stories of people blacking out as they fight whoever it was that threatened them or someone they cared about. That was not the case here. Leon has never felt so focused than now, as he ran to the sound of your cry. Reaching a room with dozens of infecteds along with a grotesque monster trying to give you the las plaga. What was only a few seconds, felt like an eternity in Leon's mind. His vision had completely zeroed in on the monster in front of you, his mind coming up with the perfect way to get you out and kill everything within this room. Then he was moving.

Firing off three rounds into the monster, in its faltered state it let go of you, letting you fall to the hard floor below you. Running towards you in long strides, Leon grabs your arm flinging you behind him- sliding you across the floor towards the entranceway of the room. Unnatural strength that only the las plaga could give him, using every facet to his advantage.

By the time the creature had gained it bearings Leon was right in its face, grabbing onto the creatures deformed face- bringing it down to ground. Smashing its skull into the concrete floor, its dark red blood splattering onto the ground and onto him. Raising his head he saw the swarm of infecteds running towards him- quickly aiming his sights onto the closest ones. Seven more rounds leave his gun, seven infected fall to the ground with 9mm holes through their skulls. Hearing the click of an empty magazine, with not enough time to reload Leon's holstering his gun and grabbing his knife. With an infected near inches from his face, he's stabbing the knife into its skull- a satisfied squelch greets Leon's ears. Its face falls as the life in its eyes is smothered out. Retching his knife from the skull, he's swinging wide cutting another infected’s neck-nearly taking its head off its shoulders. Both of their bodies crumbled to the ground- but there are more headed his way.

Eyes that no longer held that sky blue color but instead were a red crimson with black veins standing out against his skin that became more prominent as he fought. With the last infected slumping to the ground with its decapitated head being carelessly flung to the floor. Breathing hard, shoulders rising in falling as Leon gains control over his breathing again. Satisfied that there was no more threats within the room he's turning back to where you were still sat near the entrance. Your face was marred with a shocked expression, a mix of fear and awe at what you had just witnessed. "Are you ok?" Leon's voice is husky with exertion, your eyes meet his as you nod your head. With quick long strides Leon closes the distance between you two.

Picking you up from the floor like you weighed nothing bringing you into his embrace, burying his head into the crook of your neck inhaling your mouth-watering scent. Letting it ground him, he had found you and you were okay. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, he felt your arms hesitantly wrap around his shoulders. "I'm okay, Leon. Are you?" your voice was nervous. Not that you didn't secretly relish with the embrace from someone who you had been crushing on for awhile but after what you saw you were a bit afraid of pushing him too far. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew Leon would never hurt you- even with the plaga, within him. "Yes." a short and gruff reply was all you got from him.

"Where's Ashley?"

"Safe."

"Ok, lets go meet back up with her so we can get you both help."

"No."

"Leon-" unable to finish as Leon warm tongue is licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to the spot right below your ear. "You smell so good, we don't have to leave now." his voice is smooth and full of desire. "But we-" a soft gasp interrupts you, as Leon gently bites into the sensitive skin of your neck. “Let me have you.” His words are rough as he says them into your skin. Your mind blanks, there’s no way this is happening right now! “Leon- right here?!”

“Yes here, now.” No hesitation to be found in his proclamation. Maybe it was the fact that his scent was overwhelming your senses or maybe it was the fact that you’ve dreamed about being with him (maybe not like this). Whatever the case your mind was giving into his advances just like your body had already surrendered to him. Not that there was really ever a want to ‘fight’.

“Ok, but what if someone comes in here?"

“I’ll hear them before they get that close to us.” So assured of himself, no room for doubt. But you never had reason to doubt him and his capabilities.

And with some of your worries eased Leon is lifting his head from your neck. Locking his gaze with yours, his once beautiful baby blue orbs are a vicious red with black veins to accentuate them. You knew this was because of the plaga but it seemed that he had full control over himself- unlike the other people who were infected. But your thoughts are halted by his soft lips claiming yours.

Eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness of his taste, a gentle dance that quickly turns heavy as Leon nips at your bottom lip- pushing in his tongue to dance with yours. A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through Leon's chest, the intoxicating taste of you has his body burning with need. Pulling you both down onto the hard floor, lips still locked together- soft gasps of air echoing out in the space around you. Your hands are running through Leon's soft blond locks as his hands drift down. Rubbing his thumbs over your pebbling nipples eliciting a whimper from your swollen lips, hands leaving a fiery trail down towards your navel but then he is pulling his hands away from you. A pathetic sound leaves your lips at the lose of his warmth but you are quick to shut up when your eyes catch onto his teeth pulling off his gloves from his hands, discarding them like trash.

And as quickly as those gloves where thrown away are his hand back onto you, pulling up your shirt, his calloused hands caress the soft flesh of your navel. One hand travel up back to your left breast as the other dips below the waist of your pants going straight to your neglected clit. "Leon." a breathy moan of his name leaves you as he begins to swirl your clit with his thumb while two of his fingers work you open- stretching you out. The hand that had been massaging your breast retreats from under your shirt as it goes to unstrap your leather harness where your empty gun rests in. Clattering to the ground Leon pulls your shirt off of you- freeing your tits. Leaving your mouth his head is headed down taking a perked nipple into his warm mouth- swirling his tongue and softly nipping at it. Making sure not abandon the other nipple as he gives the same treatment to it.

With all of his combined menstruations your already close to your peak, fingers diligently pumping into you at a stead pace, clit buzzing in ecstasy while your chest radiates pleasured tingles throughout your body. Mouth hanging open to allow all your noises of pleasure to run free, but before you can reach that blinding peak Leon is harshly removing himself from you. A cry leaves you, you were so close, eyes raising from where they had been watching Leon worship your breasts. Now your eyes are watching Leon as he sits up on his knees, undoing his belt nearly ripping it in half. Then shoving his pants down along with his boxers- freeing his cock. Precum dibbles down the angry tip- weeping in anticipation. His hands soon find your pants yanking them down and off of you along with your drenched panties.

Your arousal hits Leon at full force now that there was no barriers between your cunt and him. Every basic instinct within him coiled with his care for you and then amplified by the plaga had turned him to a much more raw version of himself. This, what he was doing to you, was something so much more than just fuckin someone who he cared about or found attractive. (Both of those things were true). He needed you like he needed air, you had always balanced him out and you both were always so in sync with one another. Maybe it was the plaga within his veins, but at the end of the day, in the back of Leon's mind he knew all of this was true. He needed to fuck you so that you knew how much he needed you- in his plaga riddled mind combined with the past adrenaline of trying to find you and nearly going insane without you beside him- it made perfect sense to him. You were his just like how he was yours, wholly and completely yours.

He killed for you and would do it again without hesitation, he would search to the ends of the earth to find you if you became lost. And so, warm and calloused hands pulled you to him- no space left between- cock bumping against your clit and then was pushed into your wet heat. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the fullness, something you hadn't experience before. His pelvis meeting yours, hilt buried deep within you, he had reached heaven and nothing could ever compare to this feeling of being in your embrace. Grabbing your legs and placing them upon his shoulders, leaning down until his face was right above yours- with his hands now down below at the base of your spine lifting you up for him to fuck into as deep as possible.

Rough and deep was the pace Leon set, your moans unashamedly are cried out into the air around you. Not like you had a chance to smother your noises- how could you when he was hitting the inner most parts of you? With the tip of his cock bruising your g-spot as it sweetly kissed your cervix.

He was utterly ruining you, nothing would ever top this, you could never fuck anyone else without thinking of him. But would you want to fuck anyone else besides him? No, he was so perfect, the two of you fit each other so well why would you want anything else?

Deep groans mixed with husky moans tumble from his beautiful mouth, hypnotizing you in their melody. Your mind was dripping out of your ears to make room for the mind-numbing pleasure his cock was giving you. Every vein and ridge massaging your walls just right, the girth stretching you out to near pain and his length was able to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him. "Fuck-Fuck," Leon's words are rough with exertion, but he never once slowed down his pace.

Skin slapping against skin, the lovely sound of your cunt squelching with ever thrust of his cock into you, all in tandem with his full balls hitting your ass. Your peaking is coiling tight within your belly, and it snaps before you can even voice it to Leon, cunt erratically spasming around him milking him for his own release. With a couple more thrust Leon is burying himself as deep as he can get, as his balls tighten, releasing every drop of cum within your warm cunt. Pants leave him as you both try to come down from that earth shattering orgasm. And just as you think Leon's going to pull out of you he's turning you onto your stomach, leaning over you- shadowing your body with his- as he starts fucking with just as much vigor as before.

"Leon!"

"I'm not done with you yet-"

Mind going hazy with pleasure as your cunt lovingly continues to suck in his cock- obviously on the same page with Leon. You needed more and he was going to deliver on that. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped that Ashley was safe, where ever she was because you and Leon would be here for a long while.

*hehe i've cooking this one for awhile, hopefully y'all enjoy it >:) *

[aphroditeinthesea]

Hi! Could I request a Percy Jackson x Daughter of aphrodite reader angst? (this request is inspired by another fic hehe) Where the percy jackson asks the reader to help woo Annabeth (you can decide how if you decide to do this) since she's A daughter and aphrodite and immediately Assumes that she's a master in the love department but the thing is the reader has a huggers crush on percy but she decides to help him out because everyone in camp knows that percy and annabeth are made for each other (just thinking about helping your crush get on with their crush makes my heart acheee😫 Againn if you decide to pick this up you can decide on the ending!!) That's all I wantttt~~ take care of yourself!!!

“ falling feels like flying (til the bone crush) ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

a/n i <3 writing percy fics just so i can use a pic of logan lerman (he’s so pretty)

⚠️ extreme and painful longing

˚ ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ⋆

He was so pretty. And that’s coming from a daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N was always admiring him from afar. His black hair that would occasionally be swept away from his face as the wind blew, causing the perfect view of his perfect features. It was confusing how a guy could look that beautiful.

She knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way, of course. Lots of girls had crushes on him. Most prominently, the prettiest daughter of Athena. Who, as if on queue, approached Percy as he was training. She had her curls in a ponytail, no makeup, just sweat that somehow made her glow. She didn't try. And he looked at her like she was all that he worshiped.

“I cant believe youre jealous of her,” one of y/n’s sisters commented.

She scoffed, “I’m not jealous of her,” she faced the other girl, “she’s just a bookworm, who happens to look like if Kate Hudson and Taylor Swift had a baby who was Victoria’s Secret Angel.”

“Mermaid man, twelve o’clock.”

“What?” She turned around to see the son of Poseidon approaching her. She awkwardly flipped her hair to be in front of her shoulders, then a little behind her shoulders, then-

“Y/N! I wanted to talk to you,” he greeted, sitting next to her.

Her sister smirked before walking off with a wink. Her heartbeat quickened, her mind going stupid, “Percsty!” She smiled.

“I have to confess something to you, no one knows, so please don't tell anyone, okay?”

She quickly nodded, “anything, yeah of course. What is it?”

He bit his lips. Oh gods. “I was wondering if you could help me impress Annabeth.”

Heart? Shattered. Brain? Broken. Lungs? Zero air, absolutely nothing.

“You like her?”

He blushed, looking down and fidgeting with his hands, “I do.”

“I can help,” dumbass, “one of the perks of being Aphrodite’s daughter.”

With that, she found herself in cabin three, under terrible, terrible circumstances.

“What’s her favorite flower?”

He thought for a second, “irises.”

Y/N wrote that down in her notebook, which she would promptly be burning at the campfire tonight. The stress was taking her over, she was ready to tear off the pink fluff ball that sat atop the pen.

“Food?”

“Extra olive pizza.”

“Gag me with a spoon,” she blurted as she wrote. “What?”

“What?”

He leaned back on his bed, “you think she’ll like this? I’m not even sure if she likes me back.”

“Trust me,” she sighed, “she does.”

“I dont know.”

“Percy, she does,” she snapped, “especially I planned this whole thing.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he grinned, “I really wanna make sure she likes everything.”

“She will,” she reassured. “You know, I never really pegged you as a romantic.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, “but when it comes to her, gods.”

Y/N frowned, “you really love her?”

He stuttered, “I mean, love, that’s a big word. I- uhm- love her- I don’t,” he took a breath, “I do.”

The only way I can explain what y/n thought in that moment was something along the lines of, “alfkhgnlkhsjk.”

She looked next to him from where she was sitting. That’s when she noticed the framed picture on his bedside table. Him and Annabeth, two years ago it looked to be. His arm around her shoulder, both of them seemed to have been laughing when the candid was taken. That's when it hit her. The bright smiles on their faces were the ones she only ever saw when they  were together. Like they both had smiles reserved for the other.

She looked back at the green eyes that were looking at her, “I can tell.”

She stood in the middle of the woods, a few feet away from the camp entrance. She saw the figure approaching her. She reached for her pocket, getting ready.

“Cheese pizza with extra olives?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

“$11.90,” the delivery boy added.

She handed him the money, plus tip, considering he had to come into the middle of the woods for this.

She walked back into camp. Wondering why she was doing this. If she had been one of her siblings, she probably would've tried to sabotage the whole thing. Make sure that Percy and Annabeth never happen. But the way he talked about her? Like she was the center of the universe? She knew she could never compete with the daughter of Athena. His wisegirl.

“You got the pizza?”

She handed it to Percy as he set up the pink irises in a vase, “here,” she muttered, “there’s no change.”

“One pizza costs twenty dollars?” He questioned.

She shrugged, “inflation.” It was kinda depressing. The best revenge she could get was giving an eight dollars and 10 cents tip. She awkwardly played with the skirt of her dress, “I’ll go get Annabeth.”

She hurried to cabin six. She knocked on the door, lucky enough, the blonde opening it, “hey?”

“Annabeth!” she forced a smile, “Percy was looking for you, he wanted you to meet him by the strawberry fields.”

“Oh?”

“Seaweed Brain!” y/n heard the laugh from archery training. She turned around, catching a glimpse of the new couple. Her hand was in his as they walked. Her nose buried in his shoulder as she giggled. For a second, just a second, he looked back at the daughter of Aphrodite. He flashed her smile, wording, “I owe you.”

Yes, you do.

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Twelve

Day: Friday, March 8th / 9th* Time: 10:30 PM EST

"Hello?" "Hello, Junior. Do you remember me?" Neil's heart lurches to a sick halt. It isn't his father or Riko, but he would know this voice anywhere. It is Lola Malcolm, one of his father's closest people and one of the two who'd tried teaching Neil how to wield a knife so many years ago. She'd been in and out of their house so many times Neil had thought for a while she lived there with them. She poses as Nathan's personal assistant, but her job is to get rid of the bodies Nathan's circle create. She is worth her weight in gold. Not a single one has ever turned up again. Neil tilts the phone away from his ear and takes a long, slow breath. It doesn't help. His lungs are full of shards of ice, chilling him to the bone and cutting him up from the inside out. It is an age before Neil finds his voice again and he can't keep a thick edge from it. "I didn't give you this number, Lola." "So you do remember me," she says. "Now you see, that's bad, because if you remember me, you remember who you are and where your place is." "I made my own place." "You don't have that right." She gives him a beat to respond, but Neil has nothing. "Are you listening? It is time to go. If you make this difficult for us, you will regret it for the rest of your very short life. Do you understand?" Neil wants to be sick. Lola trashed bodies; she didn't often make them. That was what the rest of Nathan's people were for. Neil remembered faces better than he remembered names, but he can guess who Lola has brought with her. Lola's business partner of choice is her brother Romero, and where Romero goes Jackson is never far behind. The three are Nathan's inner circle. They answer only to Nathan's right-hand man DiMaccio and Nathan himself. Neil could have tried outrunning one of them. He won't make it past three. For a moment he is so scared he can't breathe, but fast on the heels of fright is an irrational and wild anger. He is halfway to winning Andrew's trust, a weekend from his first vacation, and one month from semifinals. There are only four matches left in championships. Neil is so close to everything he wants and Lola is here to steal it away. "Put a hand on me and you'll regret it," Neil says. "Oh, what's this?" Lola says, entertained. "Has the baby finally inherited a spine? Your father will be glad to hear it." "My—" Neil chokes on it. "He is in Seattle. You'll never get me that far." "He is in Baltimore," she corrects him. "His parole hearing was on your birthday. They had to notify his family when his case came up. You must have missed the memo, being dead and all, so I'll fill you in. They made a final decision last week, and the feds swung it so he'd get released back to Maryland this morning. They're hoping being back in familiar territory will make him careless." Neil can hear the savage smile in her words. "Don't worry, kid. They'll never know you stopped by. I'll make sure of it." Neil blinks and see's that zero on his eyelids. He is out of time. For a moment Neil feels the weight of Andrew's mouth against his. He digs his fingers into his lower lip and tries to breathe around them.

Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[sailoryooons]

i’m salivating over my first ever haliween ahhhhhhhggggjtjekwldlcjwkwnf. anyways, i trust you implicitly, so i’m gonna do the random thing:

milky way + princess peach + the craft 👁️👄👁️

(ily 🦐)

❀ Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x witch!f. reader

❀ Summary: When the red string of fate appears around your ankle, you have twelve days to find your fated partner or die. That’s how the spell works - that’s how fate has always run Her business. There is one, very inconvenient witch who keeps getting in your way, though, and you might just kill each other before your mark does. 

❀ Word Count: 4,421

❀ Genre: Magical AU, Fate AU, a bit of angst, a bit of crack

❀ Rating: SWF

❀ Warnings: Talk of death!!! Reader thinks that she is going to die this entire fic, so she thinks about dying/makes jokes about dying a lot. At the end of the story, there are moments where she is sad and there are hints of depression because she is dying, but it’s not super intense and heavy. Language, Yoongi, and reader are both very stupid, the communication skills in this friend group are at ZERO. 

❀ Published: Tuesday, October 3

❀ A/N: This is my first request filled for Haliween and I am so excited! This was so much fun to write and honestly, I was super inspired by Jade's ability to infuse humor in writing, so this is absolutely an ode to Jade. Inside my Halloween bag for you is… Yoongi, witches, and fate! This actually might be one of my favorite drabbles I’ve written all year if not all the time and I sort of wish this was a full one-shot with angst but I think it works sooo well this way. UNEDITED.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It’s raining the day that the red string of fate scorches your ankle. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, sending you to your knees as you scream. At first, Jimin thinks you’re dying. He drops his mug of tea, rushing over to you as the porcelain shatters, dropping to the ground to pull you up by the shoulders.

You’re prone for a moment, eyes rolled back, voice straining as your entire body tenses, hellfire licking through you. 

Then it’s gone. Like it never happened. 

The mark leaves you panting in Jimin’s arms, whimpering lightly as you pull the leg of your jeans up with trembling hands to reveal a singular scarlet circle around your ankle. The mark tingles, leaving behind the memory of sudden pain, now cool to the touch. 

“Holy shit,” Jimin whispers, staring at the mark. His eyes are wide when he looks down at you, lips trembling. “Twelve days.”

Twelve days. Twelve entire days to untangle you’re new fate and follow it to the witch meant for you, your other half. Twelve days to find them and meet your magical half. To be whole again.

Because in the world of witches, there are some of you born not complete. Some of you have another soul out there, burning with some of your magic. And when that magic is ready to become one, it tries to kill you.

Twelve days to reunite it.

Or, twelve days until you die. 

DAY ONE

The day is a waste. Impeding doom does not inspire confidence in the probability of finding the witch who is supposed to be your other half. Hoseok offers a tarot spread, flipping cards and trying to untangle the path that will lead to your savior. 

He frowns as he looks at his deck. The images and text on them are nearly faded entirely, a heirloom of his coven passed down through generations of family members. Hoseok knows them by touch, feel, and energy alone. Could read them in the dark, if he wanted to.

Hoseok glances up where you’re curled on the couch in a blanket, doing little spell work to figure out where your mystery half is. “Perhaps you should have Namjoon read tea leaves instead,” he offers. Hoseok shuffles the deck and puts it back in a wooden box. “The cards want you to figure it out yourself. Tea is less judgmental, perhaps.”

DAY TWO

Tea is not less judgmental. You stamp out of the tea shop, feeling stormy, energy crackling like lightning. Namjoon, unable to help, mentioned that perhaps you should seek help from Jungkook, who often sees the future in his drawings. It’s what led him to Jimin, after all. 

Someone crashes into you, knocking you off balance. You yell as you go, too lost in thought to catch yourself with magic before you’re topping into the street and a puddle. Cursing, you look up at the stranger who has knocked you into a dirty hole filled with water.

“Are you serious?” you demand, gesturing to your legs as water seeps in. “Watch where you’re going!” 

The man in front of you is covered in coffee. He looks up at you dripping in dark liquid, the front of his white shirt ruined and sticking to his chest. If you weren’t so impossibly angry, you might think he was cute. Long, black hair tucked behind his ears, keen feline eyes, a rosy mouth in a natural pout. 

But you don’t think it’s cute. Especially when he says, “Me? You’re on the wrong side of the sidewalk!”

“There are no sides to the sidewalk!”

“Of course there is! If you’re walking north you should walk on the inside of the sidewalk, if you’re walking south, you should walk on the outside!”

“That makes no fucking sense!”

“Says the girl still sitting in a puddle instead of getting up and drying herself off!”

You make an angry sound, shoving yourself up from the puddle, sopping wet. “Have the day you deserve,” you snarl at him. 

“Have fun with your wet pants.”

DAY THREE

Day three is spent at the library looking up ways to break the red string of fate around your ankle. There are tombs and tombs of ancient texts on the various iterations of the spell through different cultures and religions, but so far you have nothing to show for it. 

Huffing and tossing another useless book onto your useless pile, you walk back to the dark stacks of the magical section of the library reserved for members of the covens in the city. It smells musty and dusty in the back, the air dank with the promise of rot. You make a mental note to tell Jisung at the front to please use an air freshening spell. 

As you turn the corner of the shelves, someone makes you pull up short. The man from the day before is in front of you, flipping through a book. You blink in surprise. A witch. It shouldn’t surprise you - most of the townsfolk here are magic in one way or another. But it makes less sense that he was so angry about spilling his coffee when he could just whisk his fingers in the air and put it back in the cup. 

You’re angry all over again, balling your fists in the aisle. You have half a mind to flick your fingers and through a book from the shelf at him, but the tome in his hands makes you pause. It’s the book you’re looking for. 

The man snaps it shut and tucks it under his arm, continuing to look through the shelves.

“Um, where are you taking that?” 

He turns with a soft expression, eyes wide. Then he sees you and immediately scowls, nose scrunching. “Oh. You. If you came here for new pants, the Target is across the street.” 

“I’m looking for that book.” 

“Well, this book is coming with me.” 

“What do you need it for, huh?”

His face is impassive as he blinks twice. “For a bonfire, thank you.”

With that, he spins on his heel and walks down the aisle. You step after him, but he snaps and you feel a sharp tug in your stomach, like a pull in another direction. You blink and suddenly find yourself several aisles over, making you scream in anger.

“Did you just teleport me?!”

DAY FOUR

Spent listening to Hey Jude on repeat. And dumplings. So many dumplings that you may not make it to day twelve. 

DAY FIVE 

What a good day. You’ve made no progress, but you head home with a smile on your face nonetheless. Even though you will surely expire when the red string of fate eats you from the ankle up in seven days, you have at least one good memory before your untimely demise. 

Autumn hangs cooly in the air. Your scarf is wrapped snuggly around your neck as you skip home, fresh on the memory of the Puddle Pusher’s face when you bought the last of the black flame candles at Shadow’s earlier that day. 

Give me at least one, he’d said to you. You don’t need five.

Well, what if I mess up? You’d asked.

Then you’re a shitty witch.

Well, that had offended you, so you bought the white flame candles too, just in case. Bags full of candles for your little ritual, you skip home to try another trick in breaking the scarlet mark around your ankle. You’re not hopeful but you are happy to rub the salt in with the Puddle Pusher before your sweet farewell to the world.

Even if he did look very cute today. 

DAY SIX

Morale is low. The ritual from the night before utterly failed and set off your sprinkler system in your apartment. As you spend the morning blasting hot gusts of wind from your hands and levitating several items throughout the home to air dry, you wonder what it will be like at the end. 

The red string of fate is such a rare thing. When you were little, you may have thought it was romantic. Knowing there was someone out there for you that was your twin flame, your other half. A person connects to you by the cosmic power of the universe. Whose spellwork with your own could make you unstoppable. 

Now you think it’s stupid. You don’t need anyone else to make you complete. You’ve learned that over several failed relationships and the lackluster dating life of this town. There’s no reason for you to need to follow this stupid mark to find the one person you can no longer live without. 

Love is not worth dying for. If it is even love. You cannot imagine that the magic that flows through the world unseen but felt is so all-seeing and powerful that it knows who you should be with. That it can tell you what to do. 

Day six sucks. And you spend it crying. Alone and forgotten, without your other half. 

DAY SEVEN

Jungkook sifts through his drawings, chewing his lip. The hum of tattoo guns buzzes like a hive of angry bees behind you. You ignore the awful music blaring through the speakers and the man screaming behind the piercing curtain getting his nipples pierced.

“Don’t you have something for that?” you ask, jerking your thumb at the sniveling. “The man sounds like you’re castrating him.”

“Oh, that? Some people like the pain. However, it is Jin so he is actually hating every second of it.” You make a face but Jungkook doesn’t notice, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dude. I don’t see or feel anything in any of these recent drawings of mine. I wish I could be of better assistance. There’s this guy who might be able to help, though. Taehyung?”

“Tae-who?”

“Here.” Jungkook scribbles an address in truly illegible handwriting. “Visit him on the full moon in..” He looks at his phone and makes a face with yikes written all over it. “Five days.”

“Jungkook, in five days I will be hours away from-” You make a choking sound and roll your eyes back into your head. When you look back at Jungkook, he’s not amused. “Death. Dead. Está muerto.” 

“Yeah, I got that. Not funny.” He shoves the paper in your hand. “Look, he’s a really powerful seer. Just go.”

“Think he can tell me what to wear as I croak?”

Jungkook is still not amused by your jokes. He looks around you as the shop door chimes, lifting a hand. “Hey, Yoongi. Be with you in a second.” He looks back at you. “Have you considered asking around for anyone who has had one show up recently? It might help, you know?” 

“No thanks. Don’t need any weirdos trying to get into my skivvies by lying about it. Thanks, though. I’ll look into this.” You lift the paper. 

Turning around to leave, you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing near the front entrance of the door. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair tucked under a beanie. He looks soft, especially when his attention isn’t on you and glowering. 

For a moment, you’re not mad at him and you don’t hate him on principle. You just admire the way his nose is a little bit red from the cold outside, and his general sense of wonder is… innocent. Gentle. Kind. 

When he turns to look at you, as though he feels your staring, his face morphs from cherubic to devilish, curling his lip up at you. Your momentary lapse of judgment vanishes. “Here to get a tattoo of Number One Puddle Pusher?”

“I didn’t push you.”

“Who's to say you didn’t? Do you have CCTV evidence?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I should be checking CCTV to see if you’re stalking me.”

“Me? Stalking you? I got here first.” 

“Do you have CCTV evidence?” he mocks, making a face. 

With a huff, you blow by him, turning to Jungkook who looks between the two of you with wide eyes and a dubious expression. “Make his tattoo ugly.”

DAY EIGHT

Yoongi as it turns out is new in town. Instead of spending day eight doing like Jungkook suggested and putting out an APB on Facebook Marketplaces and Craigs List, you spend it looking up your mysterious mortal enemy only to find that… he’s entirely normal. 

Most of the covens in town have a long history of ancestry connected to the town’s creation. Yoongi seems to have no such thing, having only moved there a year ago. You’ve never come across him, though it seems you have plenty of friends in common.

From his social media, you can tell only two things about him: he likes cats and takes the worst dad pictures. By worst, you mean silly little photographs of things you can only see a father taking. Somehow the angle is always just wrong or the captions are so simple that you find yourself smiling.

And then you remember whose photos you’re looking at and you fix your face with a scowl. 

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you curse Yoongi. The Puddle Pusher. 

DAY NINE

Spent crying. 

DAY TEN

Spent crying even harder. And spent looking at Yoongi’s cat on social media, only to accidentally double tap and scream as you unlike the photo, and throw your phone across the apartment in terror. 

You cry more after. And add buy a new phone on your to-do list. 

DAY ELEVEN

You’re going to die. It’s inevitable. You spend the evening watching the stars with Jimin. You let Jungkook tattoo a smiley face on your foot. You drink lots of hard cider, and you fall asleep in a bed that feels too empty and the knowledge that you’ll no longer have to worry about filling it. 

DAY TWELVE

Taehyung lives in the middle of Fuck All Nowhere. While you might not find that exactly on the map, it is only somewhat easy to find his creepy, draconic estate outside of town. Getting out of your car, you look up at the spiring mansion, sure that you’re going to see bats flying out of the top like an episode of Scooby Doo.

Alas, there are no bats there to greet you in your final few hours. "Where are the bats, dude?" you ask, walking up the lawn.

The house is something out of a creepy cartoon. Old, wooden stairs creek under your feet as you climb them. The front porch has a severe lean, making you take a precarious step toward the massive front door. 

A knocker in the shape of a snarling gargoyle greets you. Tentatively, you reach your hand toward it. Just before your fingers brush the knocker, the door swings inward, creaking and shuttering as it does. You snatch your hand back and take a step away from it, heart racing. 

No one is in the entryway. You stick your head inside, looking at the maximalist disaster that is the interior. There are gauche tapestries all over the walls and exotic, loud wallpaper. Statues, busts, and other carvings cover every surface, and the faint smell of cardamom hangs in the air. 

“Hello?” you call. Your voice seems to echo in the house. 

You hear footsteps. Your heart rate picks up, hoping to see the infamous Taehyung you’ve come for. Except you don’t, feeling confusion first followed by irritation. Of course Yoongi is standing in this strange home that’s full of popping energy and static.

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

Yoongi frowns. “You’re not Taehyung, right?” 

“No! Do I look like him?”

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Well. I’m not.”

Both of you have a silent standoff, staring at the other. Yoongi looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a little greasy. You feel a momentary pang of sympathy for him, feeling the same sort of restlessness and weariness tugging at your edges. 

“What are you here for, then?” you ask if only to fill the silence stretching between you. “And why are you inside?”

“It’s cold outside. And the house felt like it wanted me to wait inside.”

“Okay. Well.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m here because I’m… looking for something.” 

“Something that requires black flame candles?” 

“No.” He looks you up and down. “What are you here for.”

“Trying to break something.” 

He hums. 

Eventually, you both sit down in the sitting room. Neither of you say anything to the other, sitting in… almost comfortable silence. You sit and stare at the clock on the wall, watching your time slip away. 

Your knee starts pouncing. You take out your phone, spamming Jungkook. Trying to get him to call Taehyung, perhaps. He doesn’t answer, your nerves unsettling your stomach. Eating away at you. 

An hour slips by. Then another. 

Sweat starts to collect on the back of your neck. Each moment the minute hand tick tick ticks, you lose another minute. Another five. Another ten. 

You don’t feel sick or deteriorating, but you know that as it reaches ten at night, you only have two hours left. A collection of 120 minutes for the rest of your life. Barely enough to drive back into town and say goodbye to your friends. To anyone who cares. 

Overwhelmed with the impending sense of doom, you suddenly stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Inside feels insufferable, so full of tension. You need to breathe, to maybe look at the moon for a little. To… feel the wind for the last moment, now that it’s here.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside. I - um. I don’t think he’s coming and I… want to be outside.” 

Yoongi nods. “Mind if I join you?” 

The question is gentle. Soft. Like that time you saw him in Jungkook’s shop, face so gentle and kind, round and soft with wonder and something like hope. It urges you to nod, reserved to not spend the next two hours hating this man who has made the last twelve days of your life annoying.

Instead, you’ll spend it with this man who doesn’t know you, but who has colored the pages of your life for the last two weeks. 

It’s strange. Before that day outside of Namjoon’s shop, you didn’t know who this person was. Now, you know a little bit. Not a lot, but enough. 

There’s a hill behind Taehyung’s house that you walk out to. You both sit on it quietly, looking out at the world. This far out in the country, the stars blanket the sky in a thrilling map of constellations and sparkling lights. It’s beautiful. Nice. 

A general melancholy seems to hang around Yoongi. You don’t know what it is he is looking for, but you sort of hope he finds it in the way that you’ve been unable to. If you have to lose tonight, you think that someone ought to win. 

“What was your favorite moment of your life?” Yoongi asks out of nowhere. You glance at him to see him staring out at the sky, eyes unseeing. His fingers pull at the grass by his shoe, uprooting them absently. “Or something that you just remember being a really good memory?”

You pull your knees to your chest and set your chin atop them, thinking. You’ve had so much time to think this week about your favorite moments or the best parts of your life before it’s gone, and yet, you hadn’t thought too much about it.

“Maybe…” you grin, eyes unfocusing. “The first time I ever listened to Hey Jude. I had never listened to the Beatles and Jimin had it on vinyl and it was one of the last days of summer when we were younger and he put it on… we danced to it and had the coldest lemonade and those red white and blue popsicles. It was right after a breakup and… it was the first time I felt unfettered, reckless joy.” 

You can remember the sweetness of the lemonade, the sticky fingers from the popsicle. The sound of the record, the way it hissed into silence at the end of the track, just the crackling vinyl chasing you out of the end of summer.

Turning to look at Yoongi, you ask, “What about you?” 

“The first time I heard a piano. I was on vacation with my parents but I got lost at the hotel and I found this piano in the lobby. This guy was playing it so I just sat down next to him and listened. It was… I wasn’t afraid anymore, and I just waited there until the front desk told my parents they found me.”

You grin, feeling a sweet curl of joy spreading through you. “Do you play now?” 

“Mhmm. I wish I had played more in the last few weeks. I was … busy.” 

“Hmm. I wish I had done a lot of things recently. Instead, I fixated on something unchangeable.”

Silence falls between you. You check your phone for the time. You realize that there are only fifteen minutes left, your heart clenching painfully. You place the phone face down in the grass, sucking in a deep, shaking breath. 

“You should go,” you murmur gently. He looks up at you, brows raised. “I uh - need to do something that I think should be done alone.” 

He nods. “Me too.” Gets up slowly, dusting off his pants. Yoongi starts to turn away and hesitates, looking down at you. You look up and think that Yoongi might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Soft face against the cosmos, dark eyes that are swirling and unreadable. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He lifts a shoulder. “For being a surprise in my life, I suppose. A change of pace.”

“You too.”

With a little wave of his hand, Yoongi walks down the hill back toward the house. You watch him go until he vanishes around the front and you are left alone, the sound of the crickets around you. 

Turning back to the empty hills, you exhale. In a way, you’re okay. You think that maybe Yoongi is right - he was an unexpected and at times vexing surprise in your life, but it was fun. A least a little. 

Gently, you lay back in the grass. You don’t know if it’s going to hurt when you go, but you want to be lying down just in case. Your hands tremble in the grass and you feel your throat constrict with the urge to cry. Not because you’re alone, not because you’re afraid, but because you think maybe… you should have just enjoyed life a little more than trying to defeat it the last two weeks. 

A lifetime of forcing things into submission and for once, you couldn’t do it. 

The minutes tick by. You try to calm your breathing. There’s no escaping the red string of fate now. Without your other half, you will cease to exist. There is no more road for you.

You think of the sweet taste of lemonade. The chorus of Hey Jude. The breeze coming in through the open door and the scent of the honeysuckle climbing the awning. You smile, feeling a tear slide down your face.

Shutting your eyes, you breathe in deep. You are ready.

DAY THIRTEEN

You frown. You keep breathing. You take in another deep breath, thinking that maybe you just… timed it wrong. Settling in, you keep yourself calm, fingers drumming on the floor. Any second now you’re going to die. The life force will flee your body. You will perish. Ashes and dust and all of that. 

It doesn’t come. You crack an eye open, looking at the starry sky. The stars are still hanging and the moon is still shining. Suddenly you wonder if you’ve already died and this is the afterlife. Would you even know if you were dead?

Sitting up, you grab your phone and look at it. If there are phones in the afterlife, yours shows that it’s past midnight. 

“Huh?” you whisper, tapping the screen. It looks real. Feels real. “Why am I not dead?”

Footsteps behind you make you look over your shoulder. Yoongi is storming up the hill, a look on his face like wonder and fury or something weirdly in between. 

“What were you doing at Namjoon’s shop that day we ran into one another?”

“What?” 

“The shop!” he yells, throwing his hands up, panting as he crests the hill. “What were you doing there?”

“Getting… a fortune read. Sort of.”

“And the library?”

“Researching how to break spells.”

“And Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice trembles. You don’t follow, but you shrug a shoulder. “Same thing as when I went to Namjoon’s. Trying to use the future to help me find something.”

Yoongi crouches down and reaches for your ankle. You pull it back, yelling, “Hey, hands off, weirdo! I’m not into foot stuff!”

He grabs your jeans and pulls the hem up, despite your kicking. When he reveals the red mark around your ankle, he abruptly sits down and stares at you. You yank your foot from his grip, ripping your jeans back down and glaring. “What gives? Yeah, I have a red string of fate, whatever.” 

Mutely, Yoongi sticks his foot toward you. He has on dirty Converse with gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and jeans on. “I’m more of a Hubba Bubba myself,” you note, eyeing his foot. “But thanks?”

“My ankle.” 

You sit up straight, heart racing. Yoongi had been going to Namjoon that day. And then at the library. Even visiting Jungkook. And buying items for… breaking a spell at the magic shop. Now, he’s here, for a reason unbeknownst to you. 

And you’re not dead.

You’re not dead. 

Slowly, you reach over Yoongi’s foot. Your fingers are trembling as you grab the soft material of his jeans, fingers weak. Steeling yourself, you pull gently to reveal Yoongi’s ankle. You expect to see creamy, smooth skin, unmarked and well… ordinary. 

Instead, you see a single red ring scarring his skin. A perfect red string of fate marking his skin forever, telling him that he belongs to someone. That someone equally belongs to him. That there is someone out there in the world just as stubborn to accept fate, just as cranky when inconvenienced, and who loves music just as much as you do.

You’re not dead, and Yoongi is looking at you with a smile that holds the world.

You’re not dead, and you share loud, joyful laughter with your red string of fate partner for the first time. 

DAY 20

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, leaning back and self-satisfied. “I saw them finding each other at my house so I just left. Let fate do its thing, ya know?”

You roll your eyes. “Your house is fucking creepy but not in a cool way.”

Yoongi laces his fingers with yours. “Yeah man, where are the damn bats?” 

[creepy-friday]

Love your blog! The way you write the Pastas is so interesting and enjoyable, specially the Proxies (glad you took Cody in the ecuation too, cause I like him and barely anyone remembers he's a proxy too)

Since we've already seen the boys in the female proxy au, how would she get along with other girls in the residence, like Kate the Chaser or Natalie? Whether in a romantic or platonic way

Thank you!I'M SO GLAD THE GIRLS GET SOME LOVE💞💞💞

Creepypasta Ladies x Fem!Proxy Reader

You worked with Kate from a distance since she's solo on all of her missions,her job and place in the team being way different from yours and the others

You also didn't know if she liked you because you were also a woman or she despises you because you're also a woman

During meetings she would ask a shit ton of questions about you and what you did on missions until that very moment,fuck,not even Masky is all up in your business like she is

On the rare occasions both of you meet she wouldn't greet you,she would simply nod her head at you.On impossible occasions you could get a glimpse of her face behind that mask.

I believe that if you do want to engage into a deeper conversation with her she will simply listen,but if you manage to get her to warm up to you she would vaguely say a few things about herself as well

Kate might throw a nasty double sided comment or two when there are just the two of you."Managed to calm Masky down,heh?How do you manage I wonder.." ; "sorry lady,I don't have a way with gentlemen like you do." ; "might enjoy the hell of a ride as well,you know best..am I right?"

You remind her of the few good persons she used to have in her life before she was dragged here

Clockwork was into you from the moment you stepped in the mansion tbh

Loves to tease you in both a romantic and friendly way.The fact that you're a woman in a position of power in the mansion over all of those fuckers it's super attractive to her

"Tell him to go fuck himself.What he's gonna say about it,huh?" ; "I bet I can be a better match for you than the demons of the forest,gimmie a chance to prove it to you;)"

Loves a good training with you,you're the only one who can counter all of her attacks,you really set her heart on fire

"You're a top bitch here,all bark all bite.Say,what would you do if I caused shit around here?;);)" she has no shame and will flirt with you every chance she has.If you ignore her remarks she wouldn't hold back,BUT if you do give her a chance she would further step her game UP

The nurse Ann barely talks overall and only engages into business conversations with you

If you have any "lady health problems" she would be the one to have your back like her life depends on it tbh

If you look around for Jack when she's in the infirmary she would simply assume you either don't like her or have a thing for male doctors lol

"No cannibals around,just good old me." she said,legs crossed facing you.

When you tried to make small talk with her she stopped you "you don't have to force yourself.We're just doing our jobs.Besides,the tension makes your veins harder to look for.."

Zero will start shit with you every chance she has.Fighting,blaming,shit talking,you name it,she would do everything in her power to try to bring you down and cause a violent reaction out of you

Does she get along with Masky because of this?Hell naw

Is it jealousy?a love-hate relationship?it's very hard to make the difference

On some occasions,she would act all nice and sweet,super flirty with you, and if you make the mistake of thinking she has good intentions with you she would degrade the living hell out of you

Despite the others,she doesn't trust you to have all of the power Slenderman trusted you with.She sees you below her and wholeheartedly believes she should've been in your place maybe with you sitting on her lap or something

She doesn't stand Clocky but still wants to be on her good side because she sees potential in her.Natalie knows this,but her boredom causes her to engage into Zero's little games

Jane observes you from a distance.She respects your job and how you manage to calm shit down,you're really one of the few persons she could look up to if she's honest

If only you weren't so busy with proxy duties she would come forward to you and warm up more

She would adore the tought of the two of you drinking tea in her room,simply enjoying each others presence while talking about matters both of you can't control

Jane would notice if one lock of your hair isn't in the right place but she wouldn't tell you if you're closer to her,instead,she would simply gently fix it

She gives me mommy vibes

Nina sees you as her best friend,you are the one to tell if it's one sided or not.The way you move,act,and manage to do it all amazes her..you are both a mentor and a friend to her.

She could talk the whole day about how amazing you are,and she actually has a few pages in her journal with notes about you

The girl can be like that one annoying kid at the park that gives you all of their toys just to spend time with them lol

You inspire her and she genuinely believes you make her a better person-a better woman.She lets you know this and even if you don't believe her,your existence deeply had a positive impact on her mental health

[genericpuff]

So I just read episode 275 and I’m sort of confused?

(I took screenshots, but the ask won’t let me include them so) At the end of the episode Hera summons these little balls of light(?) , maybe small stars(?) and then she casts them down onto Kronos.

I feel like that was really anticlimactic and not illustrated well. Along with the viewer not seeing Hera fight Kronos, a God that’s been tormenting her, her last attack(?) doesn’t feel right — like, there’s no power behind, if anything, I’d compare it to what a healers animation in a game looks like.

Rachel even emphasizes how strong and brilliant Hera is with Persephone, but then doesn’t show us anything. I know the scene was split between Hera and Hades dealing with Kronos physically and mentally (asleep), but it was sort of disappointing.

What I think really sucks about the setup for the Hera vs. Kronos fight is that, as cool of a concept as it is to have Hera and Hades both fighting Kronos in separate timelines, it fails on multiple levels:

1.) All the build up of Hera saying "I was created to destroy you" winds up meaning nothing because it cuts away to Hades for the entire fight

2.) When it does cut back to Hera, she's just kinda... sitting on Kronos? Like what did she do besides just breaking one of his fingers? Why weren't we allowed to see that? I think this is more so clearly Rachel's inability to write/draw fight scenes showing through, so she relied entirely on the Hades' sequence which was less physical fighting and more just Hades monologuing before turning Kronos into a diamond.

3.) And speaking of the diamond thing... so we're just expected to believe Hades could turn not just people, but Titans into diamonds? This whole time? How is he just suddenly able to do this? It feels like a shonen anime where the main character has a flashback to a scene from 3 seconds ago (in this case, Hades' conversation with Melinoe) and then unlocks a new special ability through it, but it somehow feels even less earned than it does in anime (and trust me, I can't stand that anime trope at the best of times LOL) Like at least in something like Naruto it's like... okay we have this ability Naruto's been trying to master and we've seen him work at it for a few episodes so seeing him finally nail it on the brink of defeat is like, really hype and fun. But Hades just turns Kronos into a rock out of nowhere when we had zero reason or build-up to believe that would ever be possible. Why not, IDK, have Morpheus finally master her ability to dream dive and use that to trap Kronos in an eternal sleep? At least that would have had some pre-existing foundation especially with how much of S3 was focused on the dream diving shit. IDK, the whole thing's really contrived and silly and relies a lot on the reader just going "okay! yeah that makes sense!"

4.) So Hades turned timey-wimey Kronos into a diamond... but then it cuts back to present Kronos who's just been somehow defeated by Hera through ✨magic✨ and that's just it? What about present Kronos? Is he just still trapped in Tartarus now? Why isn't he also a diamond if Hades turned some past form of Kronos into a diamond? Or was the goal just to free Melinoe so present Kronos couldn't keep using her powers? But who's to say Kronos can't just do what he did again by reaching through time to grab Melinoe and start the whole thing over again? Especially now that Melinoe doesn't remember what happened and would be none the wiser that Kronos has attempted this before? Is it because this is present Kronos whose time abilities were 'exhausted' to him 'long ago'? Then how was he able to pull Hades into the time-bowl to begin with? Again, just like the diamond thing, this entire conflict relies a lot on readers just shrugging and accepting it because there's zero foundation for the concepts that are being portrayed and thus zero logic besides "just go with it".

I can go on and on about it but at the end of the day LO just isn't a comic that should have attempted having any big Marvel fight scenes. This is an issue in a lot of romance comics that have gone on too long, they start to lose the plot around their third season and then just throw everything out the window for some other big plot that makes no sense within the context of the story. Somehow LO, a Greek myth fantasy adaption, made fighting the God of Time seem out of place and boring.

God I can't wait for Hades 2.

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble - 28/09/23

Prompt: horse

Warnings: mentions of chronic pain

This is the longest thing I have ever shared, and the weirdest thing I have ever written. I have literally zero idea where this came from. It's not beta'd, apologies for typos etc. This is just shy of 2.5k words, so yeah... not so Drabble actually.

****

“So, what’s on your mind today, Eddie?”

He sees Doctor Pearcey every Wednesday at 2pm. Has done now for two months. And it’s the first thing she says to him every time he sits down. What’s on your mind today, Eddie? He’s responded in various ways. With anger. With humour. With distrust. On one particularly memorable day, with silence, which Doctor Pearcey matched in spades. The two of them sat there for an hour and didn’t say a single word. Eddie wanted to peel his skin off about ten minutes into it.

He’s in more pain than usual today, has a lower tolerance for her psychobabble mumbo jumbo, so he’s already looking to derail the session before he gets in the room.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Eddie asks her.

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“Hmm, couple of times.”

There’s silence for a minute or so. It’s like they’re playing therapy chicken, who gives in and speaks first? It’s usually him.

“I like them. Like how fast they are, you know? How free you feel on them.” He digs his thumb into the leather of the armchair, leaving little crescent nail marks.

“And what’s got you thinking about that today?”

The beautiful purple Kawasaki he passed on his way here today would be the easy answer. But when did he ever do anything easy?

“Wayne hates them. I’ve been wanting one for years, but he begged me not to. Asked me to wait till I was twenty one. I think he thought I would just grow out of it.” 

“And have you?”

“Fuck no. I want one more than ever.”

She waits.

“I’m twenty one next week, and I won’t be getting a motorcycle because my leg is fucked, and I can’t twist or move properly.” He doesn’t bother hiding the bitterness. “It doesn’t matter, I mean, it’s whatever at this point, just another thing I can’t do, add it to the fucking pile, right?”

He changes the subject and she follows along behind waiting for breadcrumbs. Eventually their time comes to an end and he’s desperate to get out.

“Do you trust me, Eddie?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You work for the spook agency that started this fucking nightmare. So, no, not really.”

She smiles back. “That’s fair.” She walks to her desk and scribbles a note before handing it to him. Eddie takes it from her like it’s poisonous.

“Meet me at that address on Sunday. Two PM. I’ll be waiting.”

And that is definitely not how the sessions usually end.

——

Wayne is working so Steve offers to take him. And Eddie isn’t going to say no to spending some time with him, especially when he’s walking into the unknown. Although the unknown appears to be…

“A horse sanctuary? Why the fuck does she want to meet you at a horse sanctuary?”

“Maybe she’s going to shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

Steve slaps him against the chest with the back of his hand. “Dude.”

“Sorry.” 

He sees her standing at a fence watching a couple of horses wander around the paddock. The ground is a little rough below his feet and his leg has been a complete nightmare all week, so Steve walks with him, hand gently resting at Eddie’s elbow as he traverses the uneven ground with his cane. It makes him grateful and fucking furious all at the same time. Such is his life these days.

“You came. I’m glad,” she says, smiling brightly.

“Well, my curiosity door was opened,” replies Eddie and Steve stifles a laugh beside him.

Steve heads back to the car, squeezes Eddie’s elbow gently, before saying goodbye to the Doc. She watches the exchange intently, and Eddie feels entirely scrutinised. He hasn’t spoken about Steve in the sessions, has no intention of doing so and the last person he would want to know about it is someone that works for the fucking feds.

“So, why am I here, exactly?”

“I thought you might like to get out of that stuffy office for a change. You never seem very comfortable.”

Eddie laughs. “Uh huh, and what is it that gave you the impression I’d be comfortable in a field full of horses?”

She shrugs. “Humour me.”

See, it was shit like that that drove Eddie crazy. Humour me. It’s Sunday. Right now he could be lying on his bed playing guitar, reading, hanging out with Steve. He could be jerking off. All of which was preferable to standing in a field full of horseshit.

“Okay, well I’m not in a humorous mood, so I’m going to leave you to your equine endeavours.” He turns to leave.

“There’s someone I want you to meet. Before you go. Will only take a minute.” The Doc waves at a stable hand and a few minutes later Eddie is face to face with a beautiful white horse.

“I swear to god, if you tell me his name is Shadowfax…”

She laughs. “No, this is Tony. Tony, meet Eddie.” Tony whinnies, nodding his head up and down, his mane blowing gently in the wind. Eddie smiles. God damn her.

Eddie reaches over the fence to stroke Tony. This gorgeous, graceful animal, and it’s called fucking Tony.

“He’s beautiful. How come he’s here?”

“He was a race horse, I believe. But he was slow, didn’t make his owners any money. So now he gets to live here and lead a good life.”

“Doesn’t he miss racing? Like, aren’t they bred for that? What does he do all day if he can’t race anymore?”

“It wasn’t meant to be. But he’s patient, and kind and now he helps people learn to ride. And he’s very, very good at that.” She turns to face him, one arm hooked over the fence. “You said you were disappointed at not being able to ride a motorcycle? Correct?”

Where the fuck was this going? 

“Yeah… ?”

“Why ride a steel horse when you can ride the real thing?”

Eddie splutters. “You have to be kidding me?” She just keeps smiling. He stares at her, open mouthed and wide eyed. “You’re fucking serious?”

“I’m fucking serious,” she says, with a glint of mischief. “You wanted the freedom and the excitement of riding. Well, I’m offering it to you. Or, Tony’s offering it to you, really.”

He looks between her and Tony. “Did you miss the part about my leg being fucked? How the hell am I even supposed to get up there? And what if I fall? No, absolutely not.”

The Doc gives him a long hard stare. “Do you trust me?” she ask him.

“No.”

“The sanctuary has a programme for disabled riders. Tony is the best of the best. You’d be perfectly safe. Come on, Eddie. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“This was… very nice, I guess, of you to think about this, but no. Sorry. It’s not the same as a bike, like at all. I have control of the bike, my bike can’t just run off and start jumping over fences and shit.”

“No, but your bike’s not smart. Tony is smart. He’s kind. He feels his rider, he knows what they need, knows when they’re scared. He fills in the gaps, takes the lead when a rider needs it, hands them back control when they don’t. He can guide you. Look after you. Your bike can’t do that.”

He feels his resolve wane. He sighs. Animals, they get him every time.

“People get hurt riding horses.”

“Sure, but they don’t call motorbikes donorcycles for nothing, Eddie.” Touché.

He shakes his head, this is such a stupid idea, but eventually that little pixie voice in his head just says fuck it, and within fifteen minutes he’s wearing a very unflattering helmet, climbing a mounting block and being helped into the saddle on Tony’s back.

He feels like he’s going to slip off the other side, and every time Tony moves his head forward toward the ground Eddie panics because it feels like he’ll just lean forward and drop like a rock to the ground. It's incredibly disorienting.

Eddie grips the reins so hard he sees his knuckles go white until the instructor shows him how to hold them properly. They show him how to guide Tony but ultimately Tony is doing all the work here, Eddie is just along for the ride. 

He’s led around the paddock, and yeah, he feels stupid at first, self conscious sitting up in the air for everyone to see. But eventually he gets into the swing of it, and it’s… nice. Nerve wracking, but nice.

They’re going at walking speed, he can feel the rhythmic sway of Tony’s body, and it’s comforting. Why is it comforting? It’s not exactly the Kentucky Derby, but he can’t stop himself from grinning.

Eddie knows fuck all about horses, less than fuck all actually, but if he didn’t know better he’d say that Tony was enjoying himself. And as much as he hates that she’s right, he feels at peace. Feels like he trusts this animal, who he literally just met, but who seems to be having a ball wandering around with this asshole on his back.

“Wanna pick it up a bit?” asks the instructor and Eddie’s about to say ‘fuck no’ when Tony comes to a stop. Like he knows Eddie’s not sure. Eddie strokes along Tony’s thick, white mane, and pats his shoulder. 

“Eurgh, yeah, shit, okay,” he says before leaning forward and whispering in Tony’s ear, “look after me, okay? Cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing up here.” Tony answers with a swooping nod of the head and then they’re off.

They’re barely going any faster as Tony trots around the paddock, but Eddie can definitely feel the difference. The soft, comforting sway has been replaced by a harder jolt. He’s going to pay for it tomorrow, can already feel it in his hips and back, and he hasn’t got the strength in his leg to properly push up from the stirrups, but it doesn’t matter.

The last time he was on a motorcycle he was seventeen, and it belonged to a friend of Reefer Rick’s. He was riding pillion and they were going way over the speed limit, and he’d never felt more alive, more free. He was young enough and dumb enough to think he’d never get hurt. He was invincible at seventeen. He wasn’t even a little bit scared of falling off. The folly of youth. 

In three short years the folly of youth has been replaced with constant dread and a little bit of paranoia.

This isn’t the same as that careless charge up the highway, not by a long shot, but it’s exciting in it’s own way, like going on a roller coaster instead of walking through an alternate universe.

He feels at peace. A moment in time when he’s not having to think about doctors appointments, worrying about Wayne, worrying about his future. His life has got so small since March. The kids are at school and he’s not, but he can’t work so he spends endless unfilled hours at home, waiting for other people to have space for him.

The constant churn in his mind slows, his thoughts empty, his worries silence. 

They go back to a steady walk, Tony’s body lilting from side to side, a gentle rock. Eddie already loves him. He’s a fucking sap. Horses? Rich people pets? No way man, not for him. But this guy, this is Eddie’s guy now.

As they turn in the paddock he sees Steve leaning over the fence, grinning.

“Nice hat!” Asshole.

Eddie flips him off but Steve just laughs, sunglasses pushed back up on his head. Steve can read him like a book, and Eddie knows he can see it. The complicated emotions today is bringing out in him. The joy and the excitement and the little bit of sadness. Steve raises his eyebrows, that little silent okay? Eddie smiles shyly and nods in response. They’ll talk properly later, when Eddie is trying to unpack everything.

It’s over too soon. Eddie’s helped down and fuck, yeah he’s in a little pain now, but Jesus it was so worth it. He pats Tony, strokes his neck, tells him what a beautiful boy he is, and Tony leans over nudges his nose against the side of Eddie’s face. There is a conversation happening between them, just this little quiet acknowledgement of something. Eddie doesn’t want to leave him. He feels… changed, weirdly. Like it was spiritual. Like something inside him got cracked open just a little.

“So?”

Doctor Pearcey stands behind him, looking pretty pleased with herself. 

He tilts his head to the side, makes a big show of it. “Yeah, it was okay.” Eddie knows she sees through his bullshit. They’ll be talking about this next week. No need to go through it all now.

They head back to the car, Steve at his elbow again, and Doctor Pearcey hands him a card with the sanctuary number on. “Just in case you’d like to come back.”

He does. Wayne is going to enjoy giving him shit, and he doesn’t even want to think of the number of jockey jokes in his future, but he really does want to do this again.

The car ride is quiet on the way home, just the sound of some top forty shit in the background, but Eddie’s mind is elsewhere. He feels still, his head is clear and quiet. Ridiculously relaxed.

“How’s your ass?” asks Steve.

Eddie grins. “Haven’t had any complaints.”

“Jesus Christ.” But he’s laughing. They’re both laughing.

“So, you want to do it again? We can make it regular, I’ll just make sure Keith doesn’t schedule me for Sundays.”

Eddie stares at the side of Steve’s face. This guy. This fucking guy. 

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would.” Steve looks studiously out at the road, hands firmly at ten and two. “I’d do anything for you.”

Eddie feels like he’s skipped a breath, but tentatively reaches his hand across the console and pokes at Steve’s thigh. Steve takes a hand off the wheel, reaches blindly to find Eddie’s, gives it a little squeeze before letting go. They don’t look at each other.

He leans back in his seat, imagines Tony, galloping, mane trailing behind him in the wind. Just beautiful.

Why the fuck did they call him Tony?

[fxckmiup]

𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐒 - 𝟎𝟏 || 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

{gif not mine}

♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+} 

MINORS DNI

Series Masterlist || ACOTAR'S Navigation

Disclaimers / Trigger Warnings

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

 Arya laughs loudly as she chases her older brother down the hall of their townhouse, "I'm coming to get you!" Her wings flap a little making her slightly bump into the wall. "You'll never catch me Arya!" giggles a teenager Rhysand.

Arya scrunches her face in concentration with the tip of her tongue out on the corner of her lip, her eyes zeros in on the center of her brother's back before she flaps as hard as her 4-year-old wings can. A few more inches and I can tackle him.

Rhysand continues to jog while laughing until he realizes the sudden quietness behind him, worried that her sister accidentally winnowed out, he turns around to check only for the wind to get knocked out of him as his little sister tackles him onto the floor.

"I got you, I got you, I got you!" Arya giggles while Rhys tries to catch his breath with an amused smirk.

"What did I say about running and flying indoors?" their mom scolds as she stands at the end of the hallway with her hands on her hips. Though, you can see the smile threatening to take over her face. Vera's favourite sight is seeing her children just be children, something she was ripped off of at such a young age and now that her oldest is soon to be nine years old, she knows his time as a child will soon be limited, if there was free time to be given to him at all.

As soon as Rhysand turns nine, the High Lord of Night, his father will be sending him off to Windhaven for Illyrian training, therefore Vera savours these moments when she watches Rhys hold his little sister instead of holding a sword. The night heir was supposed to start his training at the ripe age of eight but Vera had begged her mate to give him a year more to be a child before sending him off to train.

"I'm sorry momma, it's raining outside and Rhy's and I had a lot of energy to burn out," Arya pouts up at her mother while rolling off of her brother and laying beside him on the floor.

"Oh is that so little one?" Vera smirks as she slowly walks over to the two and before they know it she attacks their sides making her smile widely as the two erupt in laughter.

"Wait- no!" Rhysand laughs as Arya tries to wiggle away. "How's this for burning energy?" Vera laughs before showing mercy and letting them breathe.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Arya sips her cup of tea before placing it on the window ledge as she finishes the agreed amount of history she has to read for the day.

"I would rather go flying than read all these history books every day, I finished school years ago but I'm stuck reading to catch up on politics that happened thousands of years ago. I would take training over this momma," Arya whines as she finishes the last chapter for the day.

Vera, ever the graceful beautiful Illyrian female, sends her daughter a teasing smile, "I'm sorry little one, just be glad you were able to compromise with your father. Learn history for a few hours and then you can train in fighting and flying. You know he wouldn't have allowed the two to happen to his daughter unless he can exchange something for it."

Arya sighed as she stood up and walked to her mother who was working on a beautiful dress, "I don't even know why he's making me learn all the political ins and outs when Rhy's is the heir to the crown."

Vera's spine immediately relaxes under her daughter's soft caresses on her back. "Can you trust your brother to run the night court all on his own one day? He can barely organize his room as it is, Do you think he can organize correspondences on his table in the future?" Vera teases as she ties her last stitch on the dress.

"I'm sure Mor would love to do that," Arya chuckles before carefully lifting the dress her mother was working on off her mother's lap. "This is beautiful," the princess of night admires.

"Rhysand's future wife is lucky and she better appreciate every one of these or else I'm telling Rhy's she's not the one and I don't care if they even end up as mates," Arya comments as she hangs her mother's newest creation with the rest of the dresses she finished recently.

"Oh speaking of your brother's future wife, I need you to go to the weaver sometime this week when your brother gets here," Vera states making Arya scrunch her nose in confusion.

"Why is that?" Vera only smiles as she cleans her supplies around the room. "I want the weaver to hold onto my engagement ring for safe keeping and I want your brother to have his future wife to be one to retrieve it one day."

"Let me guess, his future wife is only worthy if she can retrieve this ring from the weaver?" Arya laughs, she loops her arm around her mothers as they walk to the dining room to prepare for dinner. "You're lucky the weaver likes me," she giggles before putting on an apron.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Amren watches with an almost bored expression as Arya narrows her eyes at the ancient one across from her, concentrating on trying to get past the ancient's thick mental shield.

Amren's shield was a thick dark grey fog that went from top to bottom of her mental field, Arya could just about see the shapes of tall pine trees behind it, it was a vast forest surrounded with mist and fog swirling around which almost represented her silver eyes.

After almost a decade of practicing with Amren, Arya has only recently managed to walk through the forest of the ancient's mind and find the actual mental barrier. For years Arya kept getting lost in Amren's mental forest. Every time she got stuck and took too long in the forest the silver-eyed ancient locked her in there, for a minute or two to teach her that time was of the essence and to be careful using her daemeti skills.

Now the princess of the night court can get through Amren's mental forest in record time, even faster than her older brother, but the real challenge was finding a crack in Amren's shield and Arya has been trying for months with no luck.

Today, Arya woke up with more determination and she vowed to her reflection in the mirror this morning that she would get through the ancient's shield no matter what she had to do to get through it. She should have asked to train with Cassian first to get some anger out but there had been no time to ask Amren and Cassian to switch training time. No time when it was only this morning that Arya's father barged into her room talking about how she is required to spend some time with one of Beron's sons as she is scheduled to be betrothed to one of them when Autumn comes.

Vera was livid when she heard her husband's command. The High Lord of Night had sold her off to Beron's son in exchange for their alliance in the coming war.

"Come on, girl, I don't have all day," Amren tells her annoyedly. Arya scoffs before once again concentrating on the impenetrable shield in Amren's mind.

Arya focuses on the bottom of the ancient's shield, she conjures thick purple smoke from the bottom of the shield and with a quick flick of her wrist, the purple smoke covers the entire shield. The half-Illyrian female clings her smoke onto the shield, making her smoke act as a second skin to Amren's shield.

Before Amren could even grasp what was happening, Arya forced her smoke to bend along with the shield that her smoke now clung to. Arya smirks as she watches Amren flinch with a hiss and half a second later the ancient's shield cracks and Arya wastes no time before her purple smoke seeps through the cracks.

Arya conjures her purple eyes into Amren's mind before quickly retracting herself from her brain. The night princess gets a growl from the silver-eyed fae which only results in the princess' smirk growing.

"Only took me almost a decade," Arya says triumphantly. "I was honestly tempted to blast your shield once I heard it crack, luckily for you I took pity."

"I could kill you right now just for saying that," Amren hisses as she rubs her temple trying to stop the headache that was slowly starting.

"Please, you know you love me," that statement was true. Even Arya's father was afraid of the ancient one, but anyone can easily see how much Amren adores and cares for the princess of the night.

"You are a pain in my ass."

"Well, my sweet Amren, wait it out a few more months and you'll be rid of me," Arya shrugs crossing her arms over her chest.

Amren narrows her eyes at the princess, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, so the news isn't out yet?" Arya says with a tone of disbelief, "Interesting. I thought the news would've been known by every fae and creature of Prythian by now."

"What news?" Amren growls, not liking the implication of what this news could be.

"I'm to be betrothed to one of Beron's sons," Arya says just above a whisper.

Amren shoots out of her chair with a growl that shakes the ground under Arya's feet, "You're lying."

Arya says dejectedly closing her eyes, "I wish I was Ams, I wish I was."

"Did that idiot of a High Lord not see what the Autumn court did to Morrigan?" Arya's eyes shoot open wide at the boldness of Amren calling her father an idiot in the open air. No one disagrees with the statement but no one dares to say it out loud. And apparently, Amren knew exactly what Arya was thinking.

"Please, you think I'm afraid of your father?" Amren shakes her head before she starts pacing again. "I will not let that male sell you off to those despicable males."

"There isn't anything any of us can do unless we want me dead because I assure you, if I did what Mor did, I won't make it out alive and I will die in the hands of my father."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Taglist: @saltedcoffeescotch ; @skyjasper ; @inloveallthetime ;

[ if your name is crossed it's because tumblr won't allow me to tag you ]

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve

Part 8

-

Owens arrives in Hawkins as the government always does, a day late and a dollar short. He shows uo with his goons a day after Joyce and Hopper get back from Russia, and Hopper goes off on him.

Steve is amused, leaning against the wall next to Eddie, who is just staring, sometimes Steve forgets that this is his first go around, he's been so calm.

He has nightmares, but not as often as he did before Steve showed him what he really was, showed him just why he had no reason to fear the Down Below. Steve doesn't tell Eddie that he is doubly protected, Wayne has not told Eddie that he and Steve are the same kind of creature, and it is not Steve's secret to tell, so he won't.

Hopper finally trails off, the months of torture in a Russian gulag showing on his face.

Steve almost feels sorry for him, sorry he didn't confirm his death but he had the kids to take care of, the woods to patrol, just because the main gates are closed does not mean the cracks are, cracks like the ones Steve slipped through, like the one Wayne must have slipped through.

Steve has been eating the Demongorgans that came hunting, the demodogs too, making trinkets and charms from their bones.

Hmm, Steve thought as he looked over at Eddie, eyes falling to his hands, maybe he should make a ring next, Eddie would probably like that.

"We really shoud do some tests, Steve." Owens said to him making Steve tune back into the conversation.

Steve looked at Owens, "No, I'm fine."

"You were attacked by a new creature, we should make sure that they don't carry any diseases." One of Owens' doctors said, sounding way too gleeful about it.

Steve stared at her, with a frown, then remembered that for humans the air of the Down Below was toxic, it wasn't for Steve and he'd protected the kids from the hostile air when they had seemed to forget about that fact.

"It doesn't matter, I'm not doing any tests." Steve told them.

"Steve, sweetie, you should let them help." Joyce said softly, it was the same tone she tended to use on Will and Jonathan when she wanted them to do something. It was a tone mother's used on their children.

But she was not his mother, and Steve forced himself to remember that she was Will's mother, that El considered Joyce her mother too, but she had left them while she ran off to Russian, left them vulnerable and alone.

Steve knew what El had gone through, what Owens and Brenner had put her through, she'd told him in stops and starts late at night when nightmares woke her and Steve returned from hunting.

Steve would never forgive Joyce or Owens for that, and he'd never trust either of them with his kids again.

"I said no." Steve said, tone cold, with zero inflection, and he ignored the way Nancy and Robin flinched, it was the same otherworldly tone he'd had in the Down Below.

Eddie's hand found his wrist to ground him, something he'd picked up from Carol, who used it to remind Steve about being Human, but Steve no longer cared as he watched several soldiers tighten their grips on their guns, scents coiling with disgust at the display of affection between two men.

Owens seemed to realize that there was an edge of hostility but he didn't try to defuse it, not yet.

Steve shifted, and his kids seened to understand and moved so they were behind him, Will and El even moving from Joyce and Hoppers' sides, El wrapping her small hand around the wrist not occupied by Eddie's hold.

"There's no need for there to be any problems, a few tests, and then we all go home, like the last few times." Owens tried to placate, but it was clear by the shift that Owens was not in charge here.

"You should make them lower their guns." Eddue said softly, he could almost feel Steve's anger, feel him losing control.

Eddie knew Steve could hurt the soldiers faster than they could fire, he'd seen Steve swallow Demogorgans whole in the blink of an eye but killing the soldiers would not solve anything except satiate Steve's hunger for a time.

"I don't think so. You're going to let the doctors do their tests, and then sign the disclosures." One of the ranking soldiers said, gun coming up more firmly.

"There's no need for threats." Hopper said, tone angry.

"They are not threats." Steve said before Owens could speak.

They all looked at him, because now there was that otherworldly echo in his voice, and it would be so tempting to tear the nearest crack to the Down Below wide open and throw the soldiers to the creatures there that Steve hunted and feasted upon.

But El squeezed his wrist, looking up at him with wide, pleading and terrified eyes, she'd never seen his real form, even Eddie had only seen glimpses of it, only Wayne had seen all of him, just as Steve had seen all of Wayne before they'd come here to the Upper World.

"There are no threats here." Steve said, forcing himself to calm, but he would not be keeping his secret any longer, not when keeping it would put Eddie in danger, Steve turned to Owens, never taking his eyes off the soldier with his gun raised, "I'm the most dangerous Creature the Down Below ever released into this world, and I do not take threats to what's mine lightly."

Steve reached out and watched every single gun in the room fall to the ground in useless pieces.

"You ever threaten My Mate again and you will beg for a death that will not come." Steve said, suddenly in the ranking soldier's face, "I will feast on your flesh for centuries, and before I am done with you I will devour your wife, your child and all those that are yet to spring forth from you disgusting seed. I will make you watch and remind you that your line is ended in this way because you have such hate in your heart. You will wish your bloodline had ended with you."

Steve stared at him and waited for the prey to look away, ignoring the way he trembled in fear, the stench of terror he released.

Once the man looked away Steve turned back to Owens, a little delighted at the way the man had paled.

"No tests, and I expect Eddie's home to be replaced and the same compensation given to him as the children, as per our first conversation." Steve told him, "Now, if you'll excuse us, it's passed the childrens' bedtime, they have a game to play tomorrow."

Without waiting for the other adults to agree Steve ushered the kids out of the room, guiding the younger ones to Eddie's van and giving Nancy a look as he touched Robin's shoulder.

A warning that she would pay if anything happened to Robin while she was in Nancy's care, but Steve let her go with Nancy.

But he would not be letting the children out of his sight while Owens and his men were in Hawkins, not even to their parents, he did not even think he'd be able to leave them in Wayne's care.

He'd lost his spawn once, he would not lose them again.

--

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[shinidamachu]

I think you or someone else discussed how Inuyasha is most likely demisexual because of his lack of interest in nudity until he formed an emotional bond. I was just thinking how the anti’s claimed Inuyasha settled for Kagome, but all evidence points to him loving her *despite* her resemblance to Kikyo. Not hating on Kikyo, just pointing out how Inuyasha kept saying it’s his fault she died because he didn’t trust her, even though trust has to go both ways but whatever, so if he was settling then Kagome would be a daily reminder that he failed Kikyo. Which would sound like hell considering his repeated claims of his fault.

But clearly in the past discussion of Inuyasha being demisexual, we all know he isn’t shallow or ”settling”.

I might have mentioned Inuyasha being demisexual once or twice, but I don't remember posting something that specific. Maybe someone else did and I reblogged it?

I'm glad you brought up the "Inuyasha settled for Kagome" terrible take, though, because you make great points and boy do I have something to say about it.

First, I love that you mentioned trust has to go both ways despite Inuyasha blaming Kikyo's death solely on his lack of trust on her. It always bothered me how quickily and sincerely he owned up to the role he played on her fate when there was zero reciprocity from Kikyo.

He went as far as taking responsability for things that have never really happened and that would be completely out of his control if they had, such as Kikyo "dying to follow after him" even though he didn't ask for it and never would.

The irony is that, between the two of them, Kikyo was actually the one more equipped to realize they were being played and yet, not only she falls for the same trap, but never really acknowledges that her lack of trust on Inuyasha was just as detrimental to their downfall.

Naraku's entire plan was based on both of them doubting each other. If either one had been more trusting, it'd have failed. Inuyasha recognizes this and regrets not trusting Kikyo, immediately treating her like the victim that she is and never once blaming her.

But he is a victim himself and she never extends the same courtesy to him, still thinking her actions were justified because he should have trusted her — not the other way around — and so she never bothers easing his guilt. On the contrary, she purposely adds to it.

The thing about the love triangle — for lack of a better term — is that Inuyasha and Kagome are constantly pushing their feelings aside to empathize with each other's and Kikyo's pain, while Kikyo acts like she's the only one who's hurting.

Which is to be expected at first because she is the one who died and was brought back against her will, but as the story progressed, I kept waiting for Kikyo to see a little bit of herself on the ordinary girl who was entrusted the weight of the world upon her shoulders, had her shoes to fill and the mess she left behind to clean up.

I kept waiting for her to show some sympathy for the boy who lost fifty years of his life because she misjudged him and was willing to die for a debt she manipulated and guilt-tripped him into thinking he had, a boy she supposedly loves.

None of it came, at least not in a way that felt organic or satisfying. That's my main issue with how Kikyo was written. You can't paint her as a complex character and then gloss over her flaws. You can't sell her as gray character and then pretend the bad things she did never happened.

Takahashi wanted her to reap all of the rewards that come with a redemption arc without really bothering to make her go through one, because that would mean having Kikyo face her mistakes for what they were — including her distrust on Inuyasha — and then apologizing or making up for it, a feat that rarely happened in canon, if at all.

Instead, she abruptly stops acting as vicious, so everything can be conveniently forgiven and forgotten because "she isn't like that anymore." The lack of explanation about what motivated this change makes harder for the audience to connect with her and results in many plot inconsistencies.

And the lack of accountability regarding Kikyo's actions keeps her from growing and reaching her full potential as a character, indirectly regressing or preventing the development of the characters around her as well, which I believe is a huge part of why the story feels repetitive and stagnant at times.

Now, you're definitely onto something when you argue that all evidence actually points to Inuyasha falling in love with Kagome despite her resemblance to Kikyo. I've actually talked about it here and here.

While it's true that Inuyasha mistook Kagome for Kikyo when they first met, it would've been unreasonable to expect anything different. Their looks and scents are similar, he had just woken up from a fifty years long spell and up until then he had no reason to believe otherwise, but Inuyasha actually caught up in a decent amount of time.

After that, as much as he still refused to call Kagome by name, he was also very aware she wasn't Kikyo, to the point that it took seeing her with complete priestess attire on for him to even make that correlation again.

And yet, Inuyasha still doesn't go back into thinking they're the same person, but rather that Kagome's a girl who resembles Kikyo. Only eventually, even this starts to change the more time they spend together and suddenly, when Inuyasha has a nightmare about Kikyo, is Kagome he sees first.

Mind you, he has only seen Kagome in priestess clothes once. Kikyo wore those her entire life. It'd be understandable for him to confuse Kagome for Kikyo and yet Kagome was his first thought here when, by logic, she shouldn't have been. From them on, he doesn't even see any resemblance between the two girls at all anymore.

Which makes sense, because even if Inuyasha had tried to use Kagome as a replacement — something he never did — he couldn't possibly have succeded, since both girls are polar opposites — a creative choice that was done completely on purpose — and Kagome wasn't slightly interested on being anyone but herself, making her into the worst Kikyo replacement ever.

That's why it got easier for Inuyasha to distinguish one girl from the other with time. Their distinct personalities make up for completely different dynamics and bring completely different feelings out of Inuyasha, because they represent completely different things to him and, again: this is done absolutely on purpose.

In the manga, this is better illustrated by two very specific panels. In the first one, Kikyo is smiling sadly but genuinely at Inuyasha — which we don't see her do often — and he admitted later on that the exchange made him feel guilty, like he had done something wrong, since he had just been rude to her.

In the second one, Kagome is smiling brightly at Inuyasha, which she does constantly, then we immediately see him blush and think to himself how relieved he is to see that smile

Of course those are very different contexts, but they pretty much set the tone for both relationships and if the arrangement of those panels wasn't a conscious choice — which I doubt — then Takahashi is insanely lucky. It's also worth noting that Inuyasha felt relieved to see Kagome smiling because it was further confirmation that even after Kikyo's resurrection, she was still Kagome.

So I think it's safe to say the physical resemblance actually slowed the romantic process down, considering that the staged betrayal made Inuyasha build his walls even taller than they were when he met Kikyo. This becomes even more clear when you compare their respective first "amicable" conversations.

With Kikyo, even though he was reluctant about her approach and suspicious of her intentions, there was still a part of him that obviously wanted it to be true, so he was at least open to what she had to say.

With Kagome, he was visibly more aggressive and closed off because he has been burned before and she was the reincarnation of the woman who did the burning, which makes her managing to get his trust so quickly that much more remarkable, since she apparently did in less time and in worse circumstances, what Kikyo couldn't.

And Kagome did it precisely because she never acted like Kikyo. She actually took the time to know Inuyasha, to give him her trust and to earn his, to build a solid relationship, based on honesty and real acceptance.

I like to think that, while Kikyo found a crack on Inuyasha's defense she could slip in, Kagome slowly smashed his walls to the ground, therefore leaving an ever lasting impact on him that she couldn't have made by being anyone but herself.

When Inuyasha starts to pursue Kagome romantically, he does so after concluding that there's absolutely no resemblance between the two girls at all and after going through an entire arc where Kagome cried for his sake and trusted him blindly, none of which has anything to do with Kikyo.

People argue that Inuyasha was actually trying to kiss Kikyo here, but why would he do that when he still thinks she betrayed him? And if this was really the case, then why has he never willingly kissed or tried to kiss Kikyo until their final goodbye, Sunrise additions excluded?

At this point, it makes more sense to me that he was avoiding to look at Kagome not because she looks like Kikyo — he has been looking at her just fine before —, but because he has started to catch feelings for her despite his efforts not to and doesn't know how to act. In fact, when he had the chance to kiss Kikyo soon after, this is what we got instead:

And then he hugs her — something the anime cut out — but the important thing is that Inuyasha had this and many other opportunities to rekindle his relationship with Kikyo and simply didn't.

In this particular occasion, he even go as far as to ask Kikyo to return the piece of soul that keeps her "alive" to Kagome knowing full well what the consequences were.

Why would Inuyasha settle for a "replacement" when he could have the real thing instead? Even if you believe resurrected Kikyo to be nothing more than a malicious replica of the original, she's still more Kikyo than Kagome could or would ever be.

I dislike this notion because if it's true and there's not an ounce of Kikyo there, why should the audience or the characters care if she "lives" or "dies"? If she gets a redemption arc or not? It feels like a cop out to only consider her the real Kikyo when she does good things.

That being said, save for maybe one scene at the beginning where Inuyasha shoved a bow and some arrows at Kagome because Kikyo was a master archer, he never expected her to behave like Kikyo, never tried to change her so she would and never acted frustrated or disappointed at the fact that she was her own person.

Inuyasha has his flaws — as any good main character should — but he always respected the inviduality of both girls, which is more than I can say about the people who insist on this baseless take.

To wrongly paint Inuyasha as someone who settled for Kagome because she looks like Kikyo gets especially icky when even Naraku, the villain who was obsessed with her, never redirected said obsession to Kagome.

It's such a common trope that I was actually expecting it, but I'm glad it didn't happen because it's a subtle and yet effective way of sedimenting both girls as separate individuals instead of going for the cheapest option.

And ironically, the only character who treated Kagome as if she was Kikyo was Kikyo herself, but even that was very early on and she only seemed to do it as a way of belittling Kagome, because while mentioning her to other people — or by the end of the story — Kikyo had no trouble referring to Kagome as a different being.

Sunrise's adaptation made very questionable choices but something they were pretty consistent on was making clear Kagome and Kikyo aren't the same.

Besides, something fundamentally wrong with this argument is that Inuyasha comes off as shallow and Kikyo as disposeable. Shallow because it suggests physical appearance is all that matters — which goes against everything his character stands for in canon — and the soul is just a seal of approval.

Disposeable because it hints Kikyo's personality is so forgettable and unimportant that it played absolutely no part on sparkling Inuyasha's interest. She's so easily replaceable that even someone who had opposite world views, thoughts, feelings, temperament and mannerisms could do the trick. The memories they made are so generic that it wouldn't have make a difference if any other character was in her place.

Why do people even like those characters, why do they even ship them together if they truly believe that? That's why I don't buy that they actually do.

You see, considering how huge Kagome's soul is, Kikyo technically has got to be someone else's reincarnation too, but I've never seen anyone making the case that she is anyone but herself or that her predecessor is also the love of Inuyasha's life.

The reason they try to do this with Kagome is so that they can pretend Inuyasha and Kikyo somehow ended up together to cope with the fact that they didn't. And that's the exact same reason they pretend he setled for Kagome as well.

Which is funny because what exactly was Inuyasha settling for? Like, in the great scheem of things, what was Kikyo able to give him that he couldn't get a thousand times better from Kagome with no strings attached and just had to make his peace with it?

It seems to me like it was the other way around: Kagome managed to accomplish everything Kikyo failed to do, so if anything Inuyasha was settling, it was for Kikyo, resigned to spend the rest of his life as human — something he hated to be — just to get "accepted" or to die for something he didn't do just to appease her.

Finally, to say inuyasha settled implies he had no other choice but to marry Kagome. He had: staying single, because now that he has friends and wasn't alone anymore, he doesn't need a lover to fill that empty space in his life if he doesn't want one.

Plus, Kagome wasn't entitled to his love. She jumped trought that well knowing that three years is a long time, that people and feelings change and that what waited for her on the other side was a mystery, but she did it anyway because all she ever wanted from him was to stay by his side and for him to be honest with her.

Kagome would've been fine with a platonic relationship because even though she obviously wanted more, she was ready to accept whatever Inuyasha was willing to give her, but he wanted her to return so he could give her everything, which he couldn't before because he felt in debt with Kikyo. That's the whole point.

Inuyasha was the one who iniciated every romantic moment they had early on: the first hug, both almost kisses, etc. And it was clear that the things Kagome made him feel, such as that sense of peace, of belonging, of unadultered happiness, were very new to him, so the idea that Inuyasha was settling for her is laughable when this is the character in question:

I know a lot of those scenes were deleted or changed by Sunrise but I watched the anime without reading the manga beforehand and reached the exact same conclusions, so I'm still of the opinion that the people who convinced themselves Kagome was a consolation prize either didn't pay attention or have an agenda of their own to push, that won't change by reading the original material.

TLDR; one does not simply "settle" for their soulmate. They come home to them.

[soleminisanction]

I think it’s so fundamentally telling of what sort of person Stephanie is when her reaction to Greta potentially being killed via 10,000 megawatts of electricity isn’t to be sad or devastated or beat herself up about it/ be disappointed in herself (like I think maybe Tim or Batman would be) it’s purely fear of punishment via Robin being angry at her. She did not care whether greta lived or died. She’s never been overly concerned with whether someone died or not and this has been a consistent characteristic of hers, but that’s usually only in reference to criminal characters who you could justify ‘had it coming’ and whatnot. This was just like. Greta read her diary? And Steph then tried to kill her for it? And did not feel any regret upon trying to do so? Tf??

You're not wrong, anon (aside from comedically exaggerating the voltage of a suburban powerline). I considered calling that out in the post and decided it was a tangent that would've distracted from the actual point, which wasn't so much "Yikes, Steph is an asshole" so much as it was, "And this is why you shouldn't always take characters at their word; with good writers, there's often a lot more going on when you pay attention."

Although looking back over the post now, I really have to wonder if the whole issue wasn't Peter David's way of, in part, criticizing how Chuck Dixon was handling the whole Steph-hunts-Tim's-secret-identity storyline.

Peter David is not shy or subtle about working his opinions into his comics, YJ especially, and he definitely knew where the story was going -- the last page of the issue, the one I didn't include on the post, includes a direct reference to the way the arc would soon end, with an editorial note pointing readers to Robin to find out more.

Throughout the fight Secret specifically calls Steph out on invading Robin's privacy multiple times; it lines up with the way David had, for example, negatively portrayed pair of sports hunters in issue #7, or how he wrote Cissie's "It was the guns you idiot" rant from issue #15. Whereas Steph's responses are mostly comments on the immediate situation and personal barbs that deepen Greta's arc, ie, the bit questioning whether she's even human.

And even though YJ was working with the exact same themes and narrative elements, there's never a comparative incident where a member of the team tries to learn Robin's identity behind his back. Again, despite the fact that Secret could do so easily, and despite all the tension the identity issue ultimately ends up causing on the team. Because even if they don't like that he's keeping secrets, they respect that they're his secrets to keep, and Stephanie doesn't. Or rather, Chuck Dixon doesn't, at least not when it comes to his precious pet character.

Heck, there's also the fact that the "lecture" Tim gives at the end, the one hinting towards the storyline's conclusion, hinges on how Batman and Robin is a relationship built on a bond of implicit trust... and how the relationship doesn't work if that trust is broken... and it's hinting at the end of a storyline in which that implicit trust is broken in a way that arguably took Bruce out of character and turns him into the bad guy while not only excusing Stephanie's behavior but rewarding her for it with her first round of actual Bat-training...

Of course, I have zero way of knowing what Peter David was thinking so this is 100% just my analysis but... I could see it. It's a way to professionally express his displeasure without publicly criticizing a colleague or sabotaging their plans. David's a good writer, I wouldn't put it past him.

[samantha-rae-velcher]

Past comes to haunt, future to save

Din Djarin x Fem reader

Requested by: none

Warnings: Jealousy, Swearing, violence, sexual tension, use of a knife, spicy at the end.

A/n: 18+ NSFW if you don't like the Warnings please don't read

___

They had gotten a communication from some guy that Din knew from way back, apparently they used to fly together. Y/n was not happy with this, she could feel something wrong the minute they landed the crest in the hanger.

"I don't like this." She said as Din turned in his chair, getting up to leave the cockpit. "Hey."

Y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

"Do you trust this guy?" She asked.

Din looked down at her hand that was gripped to his bicep.

"This doesn't feel right." Her voice came out just above a whisper.

Din gently caressed her cheek, making Y/n close her eyes.

"I don't like this either. Any sign of trouble, we'll leave."

___

Din and Y/n walked around the hanger with the man, he seemed smug. She kept glancing at the ship, making sure no one was fucking with it.

The three of them went back down to the crest, the man introduced them to a guy called Migs Mayfield. And a Droid that looked like a bug they called him Zero. A big red ugly mother fucker with horns.

"That's Burg." Mayfield said.

Y/n made a disgusted face when Burg shaped up to Din, she took note on how her mandalorian didn't budge even when the red man attempted to scare him.

"I thought you said you had four." Din's voice was gruff, it made a shiver run up Y/n's spine.

"He does." A woman said from behind them.

Y/n turned and furrowed her brows at the sight of a purple Twi'lek. Her fists clenched and uncleaned as the woman stalked closer.

"Hello, Mando." She whispered.

"Xi'an."

Y/n looked over at Din, his voice sounded full of adoration. It made her roll her eyes and look at the razor crest.

"Tell me why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand?" Xi'an suddenly came at Mando only to have Y/n's blade against her throat.

"Because I will fuckin kill you." She growled.

The giggle she let out was sickening, it made Y/n sneer.

"You're his new companion?"

Y/n felt Din's hand press against the small of her back, causing her to lower her weapon and step back.

"Its nice to see you too." Din murmured.

Xi'an smiled and came closer to Mando, she ran her knife down his chest plate and made a clicking sound.

"Ive missed you." She tapped it against his armor and attempted to make eye contact through the visor. "This is shinny. You wear it well."

Mayfield looked over with a confused expression.

"Do we need to leave the room or something?"

The main man that called them there, stepped up and pushed his way into this dog shit of an interaction.

"Well, Xi'an has been heartbroken since Mando left our group."

"Awww." Mayfield mocked. "Are you gonna be okay sweetheart?"

"I'm all business now." Xi'an pointed her dagger at Din. "I learned from the best."

Y/n shook her head and flipped her hands in the air, as the jealousy rose in her.

"That's all well and good! Can we get the fuck going!?"

"What's wrong? Are you scared Xi'an will take your Mandalorian owner."

Y/n grabbed Mayfield by the front of his shirt and pulled him close.

"I am not his pet."

"Sure looks like that to me."

___

Y/n, Mayfield, Xi'an, and Burg all sat in the cargo hold as Din was watching over Zero's shoulder in the cockpit.

"How long have you been with Mando?" Xi'an asked.

"Since he collected his bounty and handed me over, but I kicked the ever loving shit out of the men who wanted me. And I snuck back to his ship and opened the door for him when he arrived."

Mayfield's brows shot up his forehead. "You were his bounty?"

"Yeah."

Burg began digging through Dins stuff, opening the door to his weapons closet, only for Din to shut it in his face. The red devil lookin fucker turned and tried towering over Mando again, growling and huffing.

"You wouldn't scare a sleeping kitten. Sit your fat red ass down!" Y/n yelled.

Mayfield joined in. "Im a little particular about my personal space too, let's just get this done and you'll never see our faces again."

"Tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." Burg grumbled.

"Because apparently they are some the greatest warriors in the galaxy."

Burg looked between Mayfield and Din.

"Then why are they all dead."

"You flew with him Xi'an. Is he as great as they say?" Mayfield asked.

"Ask him about the job on Alzok III."

Everyone looked over at Din.

"I did what I had to do."

"Oh but you liked it." Xi'an smiled and pointed her knife at him. "You see, I know who you really are."

"D- Mando....what is she talking about?" Y/n asked.

Din shook his head. "You don't have to worry about it."

Mayfield chuckled. "He never takes off the helmet."

Xi'an fallowed in his humor and shook her head, they looked over at Y/n.

"You ever seen his face?" Mayfield asked.

"No, and if he ever takes off the mask....I hope I'm blindfolded."

"Why?"

Y/n glanced at Din, then back at Migs.

"This is the way."

Her words made Dins heart race. He never knew that she respected his creed, he always thought she found it a nuisance because she couldn't see his face.

"Your just as weak as he is." Burg said in a gruff tone, making Y/n spin around and get right up in his face.

"Neither of us are weak, and you'll find that out come whatever the fuck it is your planning."

___

The group had finally gotten to the prison ship, they were running through the corridors fighting off droids all the while listening to zero over the ear piece.

Y/n pulled Din into a corner, she held her finger up to her lips and kept her grip on his bicep. Four droids passed by, Y/n looked over watching them walk up the hallway. She could feel Dins gaze on her, his thumb came up to caress her cheek.

"You don't have to be jealous." He whispered.

She locked her eyes on his visor, the deep black was almost bone chilling. If he was anyone else, she would be afraid.

"Jealous of what? Xi'an? I'm not."

"I never mentioned Xi'an....you did."

Y/n felt his hand move to her hip, gently squeezing. Her breath hitched at the warmth his hand spread over her body.

"Din I-"

"Hey are you guys coming!?" Migs yelled from down the hall.

The five of them made it to the control room, zero was babbling about a organic signature in the room but Migs didn't listen.

"Yeah yeah, open the door!"

They entered the room and man jumped out of his chair, pointing a blaster at them. Burg and Mayfield circled him, the man was obviously scared.

This went on for a good few minutes, Din trying to talk him into putting his weapon down. Mayfield yelling at din, both of them pointing their blasters at each other.

And it all led to Xi'an killing the poor bastard.

"Would you all shut up." She said in a bored voice.

Din looked over at Y/n who was glaring at Xi'an. He had never seen such anger in her eyes, she looked as if she wanted to kill her.

"You didn't have to kill him."

Xi'an stood, her smile made Y/n sick. "It was quicker than negotiating. none of you had it under control, so I killed him. All you were doing is waisting time."

Xi'an then ran out the door, the others fallowing until Din stopped and turned back to Y/n. She was standing there looking down at the poor man's body.

"Y/n, we have to get moving." He whispered.

"This is what you did? Killed innocents when they stood in your way? Is that what you did?"

"No."

"I'm having a hard time believing that." Y/n got closer, she could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. "What was Xi'an talking about back on the ship?"

"Hey Mando! You coming!?" Mayfield yelled from down the hall.

"Something is going on." Y/n whispered, handing him the distress beacon the man was holding. "They're up to something and I don't fuckin like it."

With that she made her way to the others, Din looked down at the dead officer on the floor as he left the control room.

The group ran through the halls once more, Burg battered down on a big droid and threw it to the floor. A droid came walking around the corner yelling "Intruder alert!", Y/n grabbed it by the neck and slammed it into the wall, pulling it's head off. Sparks flew as it's body fell limp, the prisoners cheered and hollered as the group continued down the hallway.

They made it to the cell, Mayfield opened the door and inside was a male Twi'lek. Y/n frowned, this guy was no doubt Xi'an's brother.

"Qin." Din said.

"Mando, funny the man who left me behind us now my savior."

Burg grabbed Y/n and threw her into Din, they stumbled into the cell and landed on their backs. Just as the door was about to close Din fired his blaster, it bounced off the door and the walls. Mando covered Y/n as the blaster bolt hit him in the beskar.

"I told you this wasn't right! Did I not say they were up to something!?" She yelled, clenching her fist as she landed a punch to the door.

Din pulled her over by the arm, he gripped her wrist and examined her hand. Her knuckles her bleeding and her hand was shaking.

"Calm down." He said, pressing his forehead to hers. Y/n closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cold beskar against her skin.

"Din, they know the kid is in the bunk. If they get to crest chances are they're gonna hurt him."

"That's why they won't make it to the crest."

___

Mayfield and the rest of the fuck head brigade made it half way back to the ship when Zero came on the coms.

"Zero to Mayfield, we have a problem."

"What is it!?"

"They have escaped."

"AHH!" Xi'an yelled. She pointed her dagger at migs, getting really close. "I told you we should've ended them."

"I know I know."

Suddenly the lights turned red, they all felt their hearts jump into their throats as the door closed between them.

"Brother!"

"Zero! Where is he!?" Mayfield yelled. "Zero!?"

"Sister." Qin said. "Go with the Devaronian. Find Mando and kill him, Mayfield and I will try and make it back to the ship."

___

Y/n fallowed Din through the corridors, they ducked into a large vent and Din held his finger up to his helmet, motioning for Y/n to be quiet as Burg and Xi'an ran by.

When silence covered the area, Y/n let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Din looked out of the vent and started to leave when she grabbed his arm and pulled him back in.

"You go after Burg, and I go for Xi'an." Y/n whispered.

He nodded and left the vent, Y/n crawled further in and went up an air shaft. She made her way through the ceiling until she found the female Twi'lek, Xi'an was creepy through like the vial little roach she was.

Y/n dropped down, landing behind her. Xi'an turned around and threw her dagger at Y/n. She caught it and ran at the Twi', grabbing her shoulders and kicking her in the stomach. Y/n flipped her over her shoulder and slammed her head against the wall, successfully knocking her out.

Y/n ran up the hall with Xi'an in tow, she was about to run passed a cell when she saw Burg out cold laying on the floor. She shrugged and harshly threw the Twi'lek in there with him.

Y/n was rounding a corner when she heard footsteps behind her, she spun around and took a swing, her fist was caught and she was held against the door of another cell. To her surprise and pleasure it was Din, she felt warmth rush to her core when she realized what a vulnerable spot he has her in.

"Din." She said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Don't attack if you can't over power your opponent."

He released her wrist, slowly sliding his hands down her arms, making Y/n shiver.

"Have you found Mayfield?" She asked.

"Not yet."

"We should probably start looking."

"Yeah....we should."

Y/n kept her eyes locked on Din's visor as she moved around him. He tilted his head and fallowed her with his gaze.

"You coming?" She asked.

He nodded and they started towards the exit. Y/n turned in the direction of where she could hear Mayfield trying to contact Zero, she nodded to Din and he began walking to Mig's voice. Y/n on the other hand kept going towards the ship, she made it to the latter just in time to run into Qin.

She felt a blaster press to the back of her neck, a dark chuckle rang out from behind her, making Y/n cringe.

She turned around and raised her hands up, Qin stood there with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Mando's little woman." He said. "He down graded from my sister to you?"

"If you ask me I'd say it was an upgrade."

"No one asked you."

"I don't need your permission to speak."

Qin chuckled and began rambling off about how he was gonna hold her as a hostage and Mando was gonna give him the crest and how the two of them were gonna be stuck here and blah blah blah.

Din came up behind him and smacked Qin over the head with a droid arm. Y/n smiled as the Twi'lek fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"The kid." She said, turning around and scrambled up the latter. Y/n froze when she saw Zero pointing his rifle at Grogu, she felt rage as she ran up and knocked him over. Y/n ignited her lightsaber, slicing through the middle of the droid.

The sound of Din dragging Qin up the latter startled Y/n. She quickly hid her saber and ran to help.

___

They had gotten rid of Qin and the man that hired them, and now they were on their way to God knows where. Y/n and Din sat in the cockpit, watching the stars race by. She bit her lip as she remembered being pressed against the wall by the mandalorian, the sound of his voice as he stared her down.

The thought of what he could've done to her in that moment made a quiet moan slip past her lips. Din's head slowly turned towards her, Y/n's heart raced when she felt the heat of his gaze burning into her.

"Y/n." He said in a gruff tone.

"Hmm?"

"Come."

He wasn't giving her opinions here, that was a command. Din held his hand out for her, she stood up and took it as she slowly made her way into his lap. Y/n could feel his erection through his flight suit, he grunted as she pressed her hand down and palmed at his cock.

Din gripped her hips, pushing her off and turning her to face the control panel removing her leather belt and pants, he then brought her back down against his chest. Din spread her legs with his so she was exposed for all who dared to take a gander at his woman.

"I won't be gentle, little one." He whispered.

THE END ❤️

Part 2?

I hope you enjoyed

Reblogs are welcome 🤗

[botmilf]

Botmom: Optimus Affiliation Debrief

Wyatt (Botmom) considers him her closest friend and confidant. He was probably the quickest to earn her trust simply by how he carries himself, and the gentleness in his tone. Optimus is usually the one to pick her up from work late at night (she’s a bartender at a local strip club) and during their drive back to base, she lets him talk about whatever’s on his mind. She’s made sure to create an environment for the bots where nothing is off-limits for discussion. If they have questions about things, she wants them to ask.

Optimus and Wyatt’s talks during their long drives aren’t always Q&As about Earth culture, though. He sometimes talks about the things that happened on their journey to Earth. Some would say that Optimus never directly talks about his inner conflicts most of the time. But if you pay close attention to his debriefs, or how he manages to find a way to criticize every decision he’s made, it’s all laid out for you. Wyatt has figured this out over time. She has an entire google folder of blogs and articles she’s favorited by therapists and psychologists, and even dabbled in attending a little bit of grief counseling after her sister died. All of this has helped her navigate these deeper conversations with Optimus in such a way that allows him to know he’s truly being heard and understood.

Given the fact that the bedroom at the missile silo is shared by everyone on Team Prime, they mass displace to conserve energon while recharging and so that Botmom/Wyatt doesn’t have to spend a mint on mattrasses to cover the floor with—even though, admittedly, she already has lol.

At night when Optimus is comfortably mass displaced, Botmom will invite him to rest his helm on her chest if he can’t sleep. She strokes his finials, his crest, anywhere she knows is receptive to gentle touch. While Optimus doesn’t have any concept of what breasts are, necessarily, he does find them very comfy and warm, and he’ll just, like, press his face into her cleavage. It doesn’t make Botmom uncomfortable in the slightest. She knows it’s completely innocent, especially because the bots have zero sense of what body parts on humans are viewed as sexual.

There are only two times when Wyatt has begged for anything in her life. The first was when her sister was slipping away—she begged the doctors to save her, even though deep down she knew there was nothing else they could do. The second time was during the missile silo attack in Season 3, when Optimus volunteered to stay behind. Wyatt begged him to let it be her instead. Because she knew that without him, Team Prime would inevitably fall apart, and Earth would be doomed anyway. She knew sacrifice would mean nothing then.

Wyatt was ultimately dragged away by Bulkhead and Miko. While they were wandering the States, waiting for Autobot life signals, Wyatt made Bulkhead pull over a few times so that she could go off for a few precious moments to collapse behind a tree and sob/panic. She didn’t want Miko to have to see that.

Later, when Optimus was resurrected by the Forge, Wyatt told him that by sacrificing himself, he practically handed the fate of the Earth to the Decepticons, because again, without him, Team Prime would’ve completely deteriorated and the Decepticons would’ve fucked up a whole lot more than just Jasper. She basically has that pissed off, panicked Sandra Bullock in Birdbox moment with him where she’s like, “If a situation like that arises again, you fucking leave me behind and don’t stop for even a SECOND to look back. You don’t sacrifice yourself for me, don’t come back for me. You save yourself!”

I'm going to do one of these for each of the bots because believe it or not, quite a few of ya'll have asked for this! Stay tuned. Ratchet next.

[ursafootprints]

today on "5k worth of a fic idea that I constantly spin around in my mind like a rotisserie chicken but am not invested enough in to actually write:"

Identity porn omegaverse dystopia AU; Peter is an infertile omega who, despite May's attempts to give him the best chances possible by scraping by to get him an education in both domestic skills and academics, has pretty much zero prospects for his future. Sure, she'll take care of him herself as the household alpha for as long as she can, but she knows a time will come when he'll be on his own, and she knows what happens to infertile omegas-- no matter how wonderful of a housekeeper or nanny or tutor she makes him into, who's going to hire him for that in earnest when he could be used for other things on the side, and who's going to marry an omega who can't give them children?

So one day, she’s helping clean up after a charity event for F.E.A.S.T. that was sponsored by Stark Industries, and she accidentally wanders into a back area and overhears something she's not supposed to through a door. Tony Stark himself, venting on a phonecall to a friend about how the executive board is starting to put real pressure on him to marry if he's going to continue to lead SI-- the public is starting to lose faith in him as a good alpha when he refuses to settle down with a beta or omega and share in his gifts as a protector and provider, yadda yadda, and no matter how much he argues that he's being a protector and provider for the whole country through his work at SI they aren't letting up, and he doesn't even want kids and he doesn't want to saddle some poor omega with the burden of being Mr.-or-Mrs. Stark and everything that goes with that, and they're even implying considering a motion of no-confidence, and and and--

May stands there and listens, and thinks about how she doesn't know Tony Stark personally, but he's made the news before by actually hiring highly-educated omegas (from overseas, where that's permitted) for research positions at SI, and she knows that he funds multiple different charities for omegas in distress, and--

She doesn't like being a charity case, but she does have an omega in distress. So she prepares her speech in her head, and once Tony's off the phone she steps into the room with him and closes the door behind her, and she lays it all out.

She has an omega nephew who's infertile, and he's going to be turning 18 in only a few short years, and she already can barely afford to take care of the both of them even with the tax breaks from claiming him as a dependent. So when he turns 18, sooner or later he'll have to go to work, and being an infertile unwed omega with no prospects means that he'll be nothing more than a glorified prostitute in any position he's hired for, no matter what his supposed job title says. He has the skills to be the perfect househusband, or hell, even a lab assistant if Tony doesn't mind training him up a little, he's smart and he's as educated as May could make sure of, and fine, yeah, he's pretty. And he's on the brink of a life of misery, and May does not want that for him, to the point that she's willing to ask for help from an alpha that she doesn't know and has no reason to actually trust, but if what Tony needs is a sham marriage where he'll get to prove he actually does have all those necessary alpha instincts that make him a good leader, without the expectation or even the possibility of children--

Tony cuts her off eventually, initially disgusted that he's being offered some kind of child husband as a solution to his problems and that May's apparently willing to pawn her nephew off on the nearest rich scumbag, but May straightens her shoulders and makes it clear: she would continue to scrape by for Peter as long as possible, but a day is going to come when that's not going to work anymore, and as much as it hurts her to do, giving Peter away to someone that at least has an incentive to treat him well is the best option she has. She puts it back on Tony: she's only offering Peter to some rich scumbag if he is one, so is he? Or is he actually willing to put his money where his mouth is and protect an omega in need, and help himself out in the process?

Tony sends her away without answering, and she's deflated over it for all of a day, because the next day she gets a phonecall to arrange a first date.

Peter is nervous when May explains it to him and apologizes for arranging things without his input, but also thrilled, because one of the things that May left out when she was describing Peter to Tony was that Peter is huge fan of his. Even aside from the fact that marrying Tony might genuinely be an escape from a very grim future, having Tony Stark as a husband is just unbelievable to think about, after Peter had all but given up on the idea of getting to be married at all once his infertility was diagnosed. It might be nerve-wracking too, marrying someone over twice his age that he'll barely get a chance to know before the wedding, and Peter hopes and hopes that Tony is as good of an alpha as he seems to be from television and magazines, but-- he can't help but be excited.

So he meets Tony at the tower for a lunch date, and Peter does his best to present himself with perfect manners and deference and charm because he doesn't really know how to put his best foot forward otherwise-- Tony's rich enough to have staff for the cooking and cleaning and homecare even if Peter wasn't any good at it, and after you take that and minding any children out of the picture Peter doesn't really know what he has to offer as an omega. (Well, he does, but Tony's expression turns sour at even the slightest hint of flirtation, and Peter doesn't know whether to be relieved that Tony obviously isn't after him just for his capacity to take a knot or terrified that maybe Tony isn't interested in him at all.) But then Tony directs the conversation toward Peter's studies instead, and-- Peter leaves still feeling unsure over Tony's feelings, but during that part of the conversation Tony did at least perk up and ask a lot of questions and even smile, so that's something.

Their next meeting is more of a business meeting than anything, so May is a bigger part of the conversation than Peter is. She negotiates the potential marriage contract aggressively in Peter's favor, to a point that even Peter is shocked by-- they don't even have a dowry to offer, so their bargaining power is next to nothing-- but Tony just shrugs and accepts all of her conditions, and even makes suggestions that May and Peter don't think to ask for.

And after agreeing to draw up a contract that includes all of May's demands, Tony turns to Peter and explains exactly what being Mr. Peter Stark will involve-- the incessant gossip and prying into Tony and Peter's private life, including Peter's infertility, the criticism from the press on Peter's looks and clothing and behavior every time Peter goes out in public, the fact that a lot of the people Tony has to keep company with are not at all progressive about omegas and Tony will do his best to protect Peter from that, but shutting the bullshit down in the aftermath won't shield Peter from having to hear it in the first place, the fact that Peter might find himself lonely with the huge shift in class if his friends grow distant or fake once he has money, etc. etc.

He makes it clear that he wants to be absolutely sure that Peter knows what he's signing up for, and that Peter's really thought it through before anyone signs anything. And Peter is touched by the gesture, but of course none of that is anything near as bad as what he has waiting for him otherwise, so-- a week later the paperwork is finalized and signed, Peter has his first kiss in front of his aunt and Tony's closest friend, and he becomes Tony Stark's husband.

He's nervous but not scared when Tony takes him to his new home and gives him the tour. He hasn't known Tony long, and he's heard the horror stories of alphas that were sweet and adoring right up until the wedding night, but-- Tony had been so concerned about Peter's comfort when they were negotiating the contract, and it even included clauses that would allow Peter to leave him, with something called alimony, so Peter feels pretty secure in the thought that Tony will at least be gentle with him, if not actually-- passionate.

But then Tony leads him past the bedroom with nothing more than a quick peek and a, "This is my room; feel free to find me in here if you need me," and takes Peter to another room down the hall where he stops and says, "Here's yours. The movers got here earlier, so feel free to change things around if it's not set up how you want it, and I got some new things for you that you'll need."

The 'new things' turn out to be a collection of beautiful suits and dress shoes and other accessories, and not-- what Peter thought they might be-- and the room is fully set up and organized, Peter's trinkets and tech scraps sorted into tasteful bins or proudly displayed. Peter's twin bed from his apartment with May has been replaced by a queen, and that he was expecting, but the bedding is a close match to what he had before, and the whole thing gives the impression of a stylish update to his childhood bedroom.

He's flattered and touched and a little embarrassed-- the room doesn't exactly scream 'married man,' but he does love it, and it was such a sweet gesture on Tony's part-- but Tony brushes off his breathless thanks in favor of talking about their plans for tomorrow. Tony wants to take him shopping-- Peter can wear whatever he wants, Tony says, but he thought Peter might appreciate some new casual options now that he was married, and they can go back to the bespoke place that Tony had given his measurements to for the suits if Peter wants some more formal options as well-- and then maybe to lunch, as a low-key introduction of the new Mr. Peter Stark to the world before they start having to tackle galas and red carpets.

And Peter is beside himself with gratitude and awe at Tony's thoughtfulness, and rapidly losing even the expected jitter of first-time nerves the longer they talk, and he makes his smiles soft and shy and inviting as the conversation starts to wind down--

But then Tony just claps him awkwardly on the shoulder with a, "Well, good night," and goes off down the hallway to his bedroom, leaving Peter lingering confused and a little disappointed in his own doorway without even a kiss.

At first Peter thinks Tony is just being overly-conscientious of Peter's comfort, so he does his best to show Tony that he's perfectly comfortable and that he trusts Tony and he's ready without being overly suggestive about it-- he still remembers how Tony reacted when Peter tried to flirt with him on their date-- but three days into their honeymoon week, Peter has met several of Tony's friends and eaten in fabulous restaurants and bought enough new things to make his head spin, but he still hasn't even been scented, much less anything else.

So that third night, he takes a risk on the idea that Tony needs him to be more overt about communicating his comfort, and when Tony tells him good night Peter leans in for a kiss. Just something chaste, nothing that should put Tony's hackles up if he finds immodest omegas a turn-off-- but Tony actually puts a hand against his shoulder and leans away, and Peter's stomach drops to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Peter apologizes immediately, weakly, chilled to the bone by what he can only interpret as the disgust in Tony's expression. Tony-- Tony wasn't affectionate, but Peter had never thought for a second that Tony hated him; it didn't even make sense that Tony would hate him when he had been so kind. "I'm so sorry-- I didn't-- I thought--"

"No-- Peter, you're fine," Tony sighs, but he doesn’t drop his hand from Peter's shoulder, holding him firmly at a distance. "I'm not-- we're not doing that. Okay? It's nothing personal; you're just too young for me."

"But I'm your husband," Peter says blankly, not quite processing what that could possibly mean.

"I know, and the fact that that's even allowed is an absolute failure of our legal system," Tony says with a grimace, finally letting go of Peter but shifting back two steps. "Look, I'm-- did your aunt not talk to you about this? I'm going to be a good alpha for you, you can do whatever you want and I'll make sure you stay safe and you have whatever you need to be happy, but this is just an on-paper thing, kid. You don't have to put yourself out there to get abused by knothead alphas; I don't have to bring kids into this world to screw up; we both get to have society see us as a healthy pair of red-blooded Americans mated to a different designation just like god intended. You don't have to do anything for me that you don't want to."

And Peter had known that it was mostly political-- well, that it was all political; he doesn't kid himself for a moment that he actually has anything to offer Tony that the man seems to be interested in-- but he hadn't realized the extent to which they weren't even going to pretend. People got married for political reasons all the time, but they still made the best of it-- they were still affectionate, they were still intimate, they were still partners--

The words 'what about my heats' almost make their way out of Peter's mouth before he remembers to keep things focused on his alpha's needs, not his own, and he says, "What about your ruts?"

"I'll handle them the same way I have for the last thirty-something years of my life?" Tony shrugs, brushing the idea off like it's nothing, but he must see the lingering conflict in Peter's expression. He sighs, and awkwardly ventures, "And for your heats... You can handle them however you have been so far, or you can buy some toys, or-- hell, if you want to find a strapping young alpha to help you through them, that's fine with me."

Peter is horrified.

"You want me to cheat on you?"

But Tony is just as dismissive of that as everything else, and he just says, "There's no fidelity clause in our marriage contract."

Peter doesn't know how to feel. Being with Tony so far has felt like a dream, and this-- this is still so much better than the alternative, this sham half-relationship where he's apparently meant to be-- Tony's ward moreso than his actual partner, so he knows it's entitled, he knows he shouldn't say it and that he's still making out like a bandit regardless of Tony's answer and he shouldn't even expect anything else, but--

"Are you going to cheat on me?" he asks, voice tiny, and Tony goes still.

It takes him a long time to answer. Enough time that Peter has started trying to acclimate himself to that reality-- being one of those omegas that everyone looks at with pity and shakes their heads over, whose alphas come home every day smelling like someone else, and-- well, it wasn't like anyone had ever been going to believe that he was enough to keep a leash on Tony Stark anyway, so it's stupid to be upset about it; people were going to assume Tony was cheating on him whether it was true or not. He can deal with that. It's fine.

"No," Tony says finally, slowly. "I-- kid, I'm sorry, I thought you knew how this was going to work. But no, I'm not going to cheat on you. The whole point is for me to be a good alpha to you, not to make you miserable."

"What about me being a good omega to you?" Peter asks, pressing his luck; his knees are already weak with relief so he doesn't know why he can't keep his mouth shut and stop talking back, but he's just-- in shock.

Tony grimaces again, shaking his head, and says, "I don't need you to be a good omega to me, kid; I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself. What kind of person do you want to be? Do you want to-- study science and learn to build computers, do you want to design new LEGO sets, do you want to do music or travel the world or run charities like your aunt? Worry about that. Figure out what you want to do and tell me and we'll make it happen, but don't worry about me."

And it is a dream come true, being told he can be or do whatever he wants-- who said stuff like that, who let their omegas behave that way?-- but Peter is still stuck, because--

"What if I want to worry about you?"

"You don't," Tony says bluntly, such an abrupt shutdown that it doesn't even hurt. "You've just been told that's the only thing you're good for your entire life, so you think it's what you're supposed to do, but it's not true."

And Peter-- doesn't know whether to be offended, not that he could act on it even if he did. It is offensive, being told his own mind, but he can see that Tony's frustration is for him and not at him, and that this is Tony trying to-- be sweet, somehow, in his own way--

Tony says, "You have so many better things you could be doing than wandering around after me in case I need something, all right? I'm a big boy; I can get my own snacks and pick up my own socks. So let's figure out what your 'better things' are."

--And Peter is still utterly befuddled by it, and doesn't really understand what Tony is getting at with how he's been essentially groomed to be obedient/deferential and suppress his own needs in favor of his alpha's, and he's still nursing a little bit of hurt and disappointment and grief that Tony doesn't want him at all and that their marriage is nothing but a mask all the way down, but.

They spend the rest of their honeymoon week with Peter trying out different things and getting different experiences to see if he likes them, and by the time Tony goes back to work, Peter has a private tutor to help him get an education past the last level that was available to him as an unmarried omega, and his own workspace in the apartment for his tinkering, and a personal chaperone so that he can go to whatever museums or expos he wants with an extra layer of security beyond what just his wedding ring provides.

It works, even though it still chafes Peter a bit to be treated essentially as a foster child instead of a husband, especially when he's in heat and Tony tends to him like an alpha parent does for an omega child instead of like a lover, and especially when they travel overseas and Tony actually takes his wedding ring off and won't introduce Peter as his mate.

("I'm not trying to cheat on you, Pete; things are just different here," Tony explains, and Peter doesn't get it because everyone already knows that Tony Stark is married and who to, but-- things are different overseas, and it is a little bit thrilling to see omegas wandering around so freely, living whatever lives they want to lead, and Peter is too nervous to go exploring without Tony or Happy anyway but the idea that he could is incredible.)

But they fall into a routine, and Peter's still so grateful for getting to live a life alongside Tony even if it isn't exactly what he had pictured.

And then-- and here's why the "not going to actually write it" disclaimer, 3k words in, because that would allllllllllllllll just be set-up for:

Peter goes on a tour of the Osborn building as a part of his science education, and he's trying to get more comfortable with not needing a chaperone when he's out in public because maybe Tony will start treating him more like an adult if he tries to be more independent, so he doesn't stay put and wait while his tutor is in the bathroom, aaaaand he gets bit by a radioactive spider.

And as he's realizing in the aftermath how it's changed his body-- how he's strong now, stronger than any alpha, stronger than ten alphas-- he starts... thinking about things. About all those vigilantes he's heard of, out on the streets, putting themselves at risk to protect people. About how many times he's had to walk past omegas with black eyes and 'wedding rings' that they wore around their necks, his head lowered in vicarious shame. About how maybe-- if he was brave enough-- if he could shake off that nervousness that told him he needed a chaperone, that he was doing something wrong by being an omega out on his own--

So he does.

Tony bites his tongue about it when Peter starts going out on his own, because he's stressed to Peter over and over how he wants Peter to do whatever he wants, and he genuinely doesn't know where the line between 'controlling alpha' and 'responsible adult' is when he's married to a literal child, but he relaxes when Peter starts coming back bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and thriving with his new independence.

...Until he sees enough clips of this "Spider-man" that it piques his interest, and does enough research to figure out who it is.

He and Peter fight about it, which is wild and new because Peter never actually talks back to him, raised with those perfect omega manners, and only ever gently questions Tony during those moments where all Tony's doing is trying not to treat him like a piece of property.

But Peter throws all of that back in his face now, arguing that Tony is the one who always says that Peter should do what makes him happy, he should do whatever he wants, and he shouldn't base his entire life around what he thinks Tony wants because he's his own person, and this makes him happy, this is the 'better thing' that he can be making of his life if Tony's not going to give him the dignity of at least pretending he has any value as a husband--

And Tony doesn't know how to argue about it, because he has said all those things, but Peter is also a child and it's not right for him to be throwing himself around putting himself in danger like that, and-- and also he didn't know Peter was so fucking bitter about Tony not treating him as an actual spouse, and he hates that for Peter because it's not going to change anytime soon but it's also fascinating, somehow, to hear Peter be sharp with him after nearly a year of nothing but polite deference--

He rubs a hand over his face and says, "Pete, if any of those alpha criminals get their hands on you--"

And Peter takes a liberty he's never taken before-- he hasn't tried to touch Tony on his own initiative at all since that failed attempt at a kiss, except to shrink against his side when he was uncomfortable in public-- and takes Tony's wrists gently in hand and walks him back until Tony's pinned to the wall without a single hint of strain, and he just says, "Try."

He's not mean or even condescending about it, instead watching Tony with a plaintive plea for Tony to understand. So Tony accepts the challenge, and-- he's seen the videos, he did know how fucking strong Peter had to be to do those things, but it's not until he's struggled fruitlessly against Peter's grip to the point that he's breathless with it that it really, truly sinks in.

So then he's standing there, red-faced and panting and pinned to the wall by Peter's unfaltering grip around his wrists, and he registers the way that Peter's expression has changed, all dark-eyed and flushed even though holding Tony in place clearly wasn't a strain for him at all, and he registers how close they're standing to each other, and he registers how heavy Peter's scent is in the air, all warm honey sweetness--

And he says, "All right, fine, you win," because he suddenly needs to not be having this conversation anymore.

He does take some steps, though. He builds Peter a better suit, and he loads it with an AI to take care of him and to alert Tony if Peter starts getting in over his head. And Peter accepts it with genuine gratitude, and it helps Tony feel a little better, but-- Peter gets hit so hard sometimes, and there are so many situations where Tony wouldn't even have time to intervene before Peter could be critically injured or even dead on the spot, and Tony doesn't honestly know what he thinks he would be able to do about it if Peter did get in over his head, it's not like he has super powers--

But then he gets to thinking, and in all honesty, it's not like he needs actual superpowers, is it? When he could just build himself something. Something that would let him actually help Peter while he was out there, fighting for the good of a world that would've thrown him to the wolves in half a second if Tony hadn't intervened, if May Parker hadn't had the strength to ask for help-- and if for some reason Peter seems to hate it when Tony actually speaks into his heroing, like it's some kind of insult that Tony wants him to be safe, maybe he'll accept some help from someone else--

Peter doesn't know what to think of Iron Man when he comes on the scene, at first. It's a little irritating how often he tries to tell Peter to hang back, when he clearly doesn't even have the same amount of experience that Peter does, but it's not too long before Iron Man's deferring to Peter instead, and then it's not too long after that that they become a pretty good team. And once Iron Man learns to treat him as an equal, Peter finds that he's funny and thoughtful and sweet, and he tells Peter whatever he wants to know about how the armor works, and--

Peter has never for a second actually considered exploiting the lack of an infidelity clause in his and Tony's marriage contract. But there is something a little-- addictive, about having the respect and attention of this brilliant armor-clad alpha, when his actual alpha still treats him like a child, and he starts... thinking.

And Tony has never for a second actually thought of Peter as an actual mate. He's too young; that would be-- disgusting. But-- Peter's almost an entirely different person in the suit, or maybe he's just an entirely different person when he's not with Tony-- his alpha-- because Spider-man is all sass and vinegar and unyielding strength of character, and Tony wishes that Peter would bring some of that home with him instead of the return of his unending soft-spoken deferential politeness, because if he did--

If he did--

On second thought, Tony's not going to think about it.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

A/N: Erik takes over the throne after killing T'Challa. T'Challa was your husband. It's a whole thing. Go to part one because this is the sequel.

As Killmonger talks military advancement without the help of Princess Shuri, who is MIA, your mind drifts. It's been two weeks since that incident, and you're still beating yourself up mentally. One time is an accident, but three? You went three sweaty rounds with the man who killed your husband. You feel despicable.

The worst part? Part of you is ready to do it again. He warned you against crossing a line you'd regret. Now, every time he licks his lips...

"What do you think," one of the scientists asks. You don't recall the question.

"She's a little tired from coaching me all day," Killmonger covers, gesturing to Aneka. "Would you make sure she gets somewhere to rest."

You leave with Aneka and ignore her concerned questioning.

"Are you going to ignore us forever?"

"Yes," you nod, then continue brooding as if she isn't there. Every now and then, you fall into a grief that's hard to pull yourself out of, but now you've added guilt.

"Not today, not now," your leg rocks. You tell yourself to pull it together. You have more responsibility now. You're an advisor. You need to be sharp. Get it together.

After regrouping, you're able to return and hear explanations of the new weaponry and armored suits. T'Challa used to handle this with his little sister. You were never this involved, with anything, really. You barely recognize yourself these days.

At the palace, you walk the courtyard for some air and think about T'Challa. What would he say to this new Queen? 'You're much harder on yourself than I ever was' sounds like him. You smile with sadness. You've been lonely, and loneliness will make anyone do things they typically wouldn't, like having sex with your husband's killer. You imagined T'Challa all three times and the time before that when you received oral sex. It made sense in your head, but no one would understand. No one could know.

Watching you from an above-floor window, Erik glows in his accomplishments. You've been losing focus but ultimately falling in line. The Queen at his side brings a legitimacy to his rule that ritual combat alone does not. With you there, people move easier, more willing to comply. They see you and feel safer, more trusting of him.

At his desk, he inks out more of his plan to turn wardogs into agents who will topple their respective countries from the inside using chaos tactics as he's been taught. Blood, trickery, and deception in trade for global freedom. Wakanda will be the new Mecca.

As soon as you come back in, he can bring you up to speed and ease you gently into his real plan. Bit by bit.

Signing off, he sets it aside.

"Has the queen returned yet," he asks Ayo who mans the door. She comes inside to check, looking out the window.

"No, she is outside."

"What's she doing?"

"Just... lying on her back in the grass."

"Go get her," he nods.

"Yes, my king."

"You sent for me?" You enter the office and your eyes zero in on the walls. Your jaw drops.

"You're quick."

Your head tilts as you try to comprehend what you're seeing and why. You close your eyes, and they open on Killmonger.

"The past kings' pho-tos are miss-ing," you say very slowly, looking at that face of pure ignorance and disregard. "Namely, my hus-band's."

That was the first spot your eyes traveled. There's no reason for him to take that specific one down. He knows how important T'Challa's presence is to you.

"Where did you put it?"

"Oh, right here. Just some redecorating."

He produces the frame, pulling it from under his desk and presenting it to you.

Your lids droop. You grasp it, suddenly just as distrustful of him as the day he showed up. You put T'Challa's photo back on the wall, making sure it hangs straight.

"What is it you want, Killmonger?"

Eyeing T'Challa's picture to ensure there are no marks or tears, you clasp your hands behind your back to listen.

"Well... Now that you're back, I can tell you all about the new plan and shoot some things your way." His pen clicks.

You turn back and take the page from him as though you're looking it over.

"Overall," he continues, "What's your predicted outcome should we pit our warship against a Navy vessel?"

Rip. Tear. You shread the page into pieces that you drop all at once.

To his raised brow, you ask again. "What do you WANT?" You feel like he's been bullshitting you these past few weeks, taking advantage of your emotional state.

"I told you. I want to run these ideas through you before I do it."

Your lips thin with tension. You're not stupid. You can feel his dishonesty. Little by little, you've been dragged into his web. T'Challa's picture being taken down makes it absolutely clear.

"You want to replace T'Challa in more than position. You want to replace him in memory."

He looks confused.

You shake your head evenly. "I won't let that happen. I told you. As long as I live, so will his legacy!"

"Wait," Erik chuckles. He has to stand for this, surprised at your nerve. "While you iced your wounds, I talked to the scientists alone. You don't want people to think we're together? Ok. Out of respect for your marriage, I defended that. Now you accuse me of trying to erase your husband's memory?"

Your eyes don't waiver.

With a scoff, he shakes his head. His fist hits the desk in frustration.

"This is why I know you're the only one who can serve as my Queen." Chef's kiss. "Now I can stop pretending."

"I knew you were a low-down, slimy bastard and I should have killed you when the opportunity presented itself."

"May I ask, what are you gonna do NOW that you know I don't give a fuck?"

"I won't make that mistake again," your nose scrunches.

Picking up the stack of frames, he tosses them onto the desk like old junk.

"Fuck these niggas! I'M the king now," he growls, no longer pretending to care about the disgust manifesting in your deep brown eyes.

"It's over with! He's dead. He ain't fuckin coming back."

That one hurt your feelings.

He snorts and spits on the stack of frames before him, looking you in the eyes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Now take that shit and get it out my office," he waves toward T'Challa's hanging photo, dismissing you, his back turning as he faces the window.

You wish you could push him through, but the glass is thick. Instead, you step outside and snatch Ayo's spear from her grasp, threatening her with it so she backs down.

You march back into the office and with both hands, drive the point directly through his armor and through the center of his back. It takes you multiple thrusts, all of your energy each time. His palms are planted against the window as you attempt to nail him through it.

The few Dora in attendance finally take advantage of the moment, yelling their battle cry as they attack.

Erik's black and gold suit materializes on his body as he backhands you out of the way, down to the floor. You roll from the force, but Aneka's spear would've knocked you out in her desperate attempt for a headshot.

Block. Block. Dodge. Attack.

Erik's strength, combined with the strength of the black panther, has him slinging Aneka and Okoye across the room like rag dolls, ultimately sending them both through a wall.

"Shake it off," Erik teases.

Wobbly, they stand and let the plaster fall.

The spear in his back is the motivation he needs. With a heavy sniff, he pulls it and calculates the Dora's incoming attacks.

Okoye's coming at his right side. Ayo, though weaponless, is coming at his left. He uses force to blow them both back, leaving Aneka to come for him head-on again. Getting behind her, he twists and drives Ayo's spear directly through her body, watching Ayo and Okoye as he does it.

"No," Ayo gasps.

"Oh yes," Erik smiles, waving her forward to be next as Aneka thuds to the ground, lifeless.

Okoye charges with tears in her eyes, a noble suicide, but you jump in with Aneka's spear.

Again, Erik knocks you out the way. Now, he has to dodge and fight.

High on adrenaline, Erik battles her spear to spear, distracting her to slice her face with his claw. In that moment, he gets the gut shot.

As an insult to injury, he rips the spear out of her body and stabs through her back when she falls.

"You standing there powerless. COME DO SOME," he looks to you. Scowling, he tosses Okoye's spear at Ayo and gets into position.

"For Wakanda," she announces, running into a quick death. He slashes her throat easily.

"YOU HAPPY?" Erik turns to you. "LOOK WHAT YOU CAUSED."

He sighs, seeing you fearful on the floor, and quickly checks his anger. Losing a few Dora is nothing in the grand scheme. Losing you would be an issue. The blood all over the room can and will be cleaned, but as for you...

"Go to your room."

"Don't talk to me like I'm some child," you stand, suddenly rediscovering your boldness.

He holds the bloody spear in his hands casually to your throat.

"I won't kill you. I will, however, knock yo ass out if you EVER... do that shit again."

You glare at him with easy eye contact, and you are definitely planning your next attempt for some time soon. The instant look of defiance is his weakness.

"You know, the more you rebel, the sweeter the reward in breaking you."

He lowers the spear from your neck and lets it clang to the ground.

"Fuck T'Challa. All this shit is mine now, including you," he points.

Stepping over Aneka's dead body, you stand inches from him, looking up into his eyes. Your finger digs each time it taps his chest to drive your point across.

"You may have the title, Killmonger. You may have the power. You will never have the honor. You aren't half the man T'Challa was, and you'll never replace him in the hearts that matter. I swear to you... You will die by my hand, and I will dance on your unmarked grave."

"I look forward to it." He closes the distance. You can feel his erection pressing against you. Appalled, you nearly trip over Aneka to get around him, leaving the room and feeling his eyes on you.

For the next few days, you avoid Killmonger. The Dora are lesser in number. You wonder if sense will ever catch on, but don't hold your breath.

Killmonger leaves you alone until it's time to make an appearance to the Jabari. He sends for you, and when you refuse, he comes to get you.

There's no knock. He lets himself into your quarters as you're journaling in front of the vanity mirror.

"Tantrum over. It's time to go."

You ignore him and continue writing, the sunlight bright and pouring in through the large window.

"So you ain't leaving?"

You tune him out completely. Your mental and emotional state has been everywhere lately. You need some calm and stability.

He closes and locks your door, still in the bedroom.

When you finally do look at him, Erik has passed annoyed and gone into petty. He reads over your shoulder, kissing his teeth and moving on.

"Still crying over T'Challa," he scoffs. "But fucking me. What would he think seeing his wife in that position so soon after his death?"

You're still silent, but your pen stalls. He smirks, knowing what buttons to press as he paces the vast bedroom.

"I bet he turned in his grave that night you reached for me, wanting me, pulling me closer. The man who defeated him in ritual combat and took his life. I took everything from him just like this place did to me. And you thanked me."

"Enough!"

"That pussy was wet and waiting. Wasn't it?"

"Shut up," you growl, slamming your pen against the table. "You're vulgar, and you're wrong. I wasn't thinking about you. I was missing my husband! You wouldn't understand."

"You were using me to get off," Erik nods, stopping at the window. "To ease your loneliness, thinking we're the same. We're not the same. You grew up in a cozy little castle. I grew up scraping for everything I got in Oakland. You had a silver spoon while I got mine out the mud."

"Silver spoon?" You laugh bitterly, turning to follow him with your eyes. "Don't assume you know anything about my life."

"But I do," Erik smiles wryly. "You're from the Water tribe where food is plentiful. Mommy and Daddy only had to worry about you and your sister."

"Say one thing about my family and I swear," you threaten as he plays with the pattern of the thin veil of a curtain. Hand-stitched.

"The biggest threat you've had your entire life was a lion or something local that was taken care of within a matter of days, weeks, months... You don't know the definition of grief, pain, loss, or oppression you spoiled brat," he turns back, pulling the thread.

It's sturdily made and doesn't unravel.

"That's where you're wrong," your eyes narrow, full of anger. "Thanks yo you, I now have personal experience with ALL of the above."

"I can't feel sorry for no rich kept lil girl when niggas like me who put their life on the line die every day."

You toss a glass vase of wild picked flowers that he easily dodges. It smashes on the wall, leaving flowers, glass, and water scattered. Another tantrum.

"How dare you come into my country and presume to know about me and my family when you couldn't even save your own. I heard about your mother," you smirk evilly when you see you've got your in. "People talk. Your mother died in jail. Like mother, like father, like son!"

Erik's jaw clenches, his eyes darkening as he struggles to find his restraint quickly.

"I'll do you a favor and end your miserable bloodline myself," you sneer. "Then you can reunite with your criminal mother and your treacherous father."

"You seemed to like it when I buried this criminal, treacherous dick inside of your pretty little kept warmth. 'You're a monster! You're a villain!' But my dick was inside you. I killed T'Challa with these two hands," he grins, holding them up to you.

These hands that touched you. These hands that rubbed every inch of you and held you at night when you asked.

"Oh, T'Challa, T'Challa," his head rolls, mocking you. "All that and you still coated my dick in cum. I made you taste it, just to show you. What does that say about YOU, Ms. Perfect?"

He awaits your reply with a raise of his brow.

"You stuck?"

You look away, turning back to your journal quietly.

"Uh, uh. You don't get to talk shit and back out. I want all that smoke you had."

You jump up and come at him with your pen as he laughs.

"What's that supposed to do."

You stop on his foot and jab it in the side of his neck. He chuckles, grabbing your fists and throwing you. Immediately you get up looking for something. He watches you find the big piece of broken glass on the floor.

"Don't cut yourself," he cautions, interested in your next attack. He smirks as you come up him high, but drop low.

"Aye," he jumps back. "That's my dick. I use that."

It's what you were aiming for.

"You a lil dangerous," he concedes, grabbing your hand to shake glass out. He kicks it away.

"But, baby, I'm hard to kill. Your nigga couldn't even do it. What makes you think you can?" His hand cradles the soft skin of your face though you turn away.

"You're getting used to me."

"No, Killmonger, I never will," you combat, but in the scheme of things, things are still going pretty well.

He shrugs, a smug dimpled smirk still on his face.

"Ok. Then you won't."

Erik heads to the door unbothered, unlocking it on his exit. As he walks through the corridor, he can't help but reflect on the fun he's had.

The more you fight, the more he wants to conquer you and claim you for his own.

He snickers, what you did with the glass sticking with him.

Sooner or later, just like that vase... you WILL break.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @tgigoldie @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybee @playgurlxoxo

[nicnacsnonsense]

Just finished “Lies My Parents Told Me” and woof, that was rough.

Spike & Buffy are just bizarrely flippant about the fact that Spike’s trigger is still active. Like I am pro-keeping Spike alive, but given that he can be forcibly turned into a bloodthirsty killer at literally any moment, some precautions need to be taken!

Giles meanwhile is the only person treating the trigger with the seriousness that it deserves and is actively trying to fix it, but when he isn’t able to immediately solve the problem, he just jumps straight to murder?

Giles is like, hmmm, I cannot trust Buffy’s judgement about Spike as I suspect she may be emotionally compromised, so instead I am going to ally with Robin, who has point-blank admitted to me that his judgement around Spike is emotionally compromised

The audacity of Giles telling Buffy she needs to be a general while making and helping to execute on a major fucking decision behind her back

Why is Giles on the Spike hate train this season? I feel like he trusts Spike and likes Buffy working with him less this season than he did in season 5. Except this season not only does Spike have a soul, which makes a huge fucking difference in how we treat Angel, Spike went and got his soul of his own accord because he wanted to be a better person for Buffy. And Giles gives him zero credit for any of that. (Honestly no one gives Spike enough credit for that this season, though Buffy does at least try.)

I don’t like Buffy saying she would sacrifice Dawn to save the world if she had to. Not even because it bothers me that Buffy the person would say that, but because it kind of undermines the overall narrative of the show. S3 Buffy kills Angel to save the world. Cool, powerful statement about the character. S5 Buffy refuses to kill Dawn to save the world, saying that she doesn’t know how to live in a world where these are the choices. Also a powerful statement, and all the more meaningful because she has changed her mind since the last time. S7 she says she would sacrifice Dawn to save the world actually, and now I no longer care. None of these statements are powerful any more because apparently Buffy’s just generally wishy-washy about the whole thing.

Spike says he doesn’t feel bad for killing Nikki because he’s a vampire and she was the Slayer and that’s how the game is played; she chose it. No she did not! Like that’s the whole thing, the huge running conflict throughout the whole show, not to mention the big Shadow Men reveal just two episodes ago. The Slayer is *chosen*. One girl in all the world is chosen without her consent to have all this power just thrust upon her and then be forced to fight evil and protect the world.

In general just not a fan of the condescension dripping off Spike in that interaction, like oh my mom loved me but yours didn’t love you.

Oh my god, Spike, that’s his dead mother’s coat. You stole that coat off the body of a woman you had just murdered. Just let him fucking keep the coat.