#sorry the lighting sucks do you know how hard it is having no scanner and shit light in every fucking room and an old phone

[carmenpeach]

Sonic and Tails are dead... in the midwest! chapter 3

ch 1 ch 2 ch 4

[duckapus]

Dead, Inside and Out

"Grah! Stupid, useless-!"

Kamek walks up to the doctor, "I take it there's a problem?"

Eggman huffs and shows him his tablet, "It's this blasted Zone. All the spectral energy is interfering with the Seed Detector. I have no idea where the next seed is."

"Of course. I suppose we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way. Bomberto! Bring us down near the center!"

As the ship descends, everyone gets ready to begin the search.

"Okay guys, from what Kamek's told us this Zone's conversion trigger is depression. Now, I know things have been pretty rough so far and none of us are feeling too great, but I'm sure that as long as we all support each other and stay focused on the plan, we'll make it though without...any...losses," 4 sees that most of the group looking at something behind him and gets a deadpan expression, "Toad's already a ghost, isn't he?"

"Yep."

Bob shrugs, "Well, at least it wasn't anyone important."

"BOB!"

"What? We were all thinking it."

4 sighs, "Anyway, since the scanner isn't working, we're going to have to find the seed ourselves. If the other Zones are any indication, it should be with whoever triggered the Wonder Flower, and it's pretty obvious who it was here."

Cubot scratches his head, "It is?"

"Well, let's see," Root makes a show of contemplating, "who do we know who's dead, depressed, and literally sucks the color out of anything she touches?"

"Ohhh...I don't get it."

Ignoring him, Meggy chimes in "Okay, but how are we going to find her? Either she's drifting around and we'll have to scour the whole Zone or she's holed up in her house, and the only guy who can actually find that place is currently a Muppet."

"Well, Floyd's house usually shows up pretty close to mine and Luigi's, so we could start there."

"Sounds good to me. Alright guys, let's move out!"

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

It takes a few minutes to get from the landing site to the Mario Bros' house, and when they do they make a rather unusual discovery.

"How does it still have its color?"

Indeed, Somehow this one building was exempt from the Wonder Effect. The group approaches cautiously, not sure what to make of this. Mario slowly, carefully opens the front door, revealing that the inside looks pretty much the same as when they left, a startling reminder that this whole ordeal only started a few days ago. There's a bit of light and sound coming from the living room, and Mario leads the way as they sneak over to peek around the corner...

And find an oddly familiar young woman with an ornate dress and sharp, curling horns slumped unceremoniously in Luigi's favorite chair, staring blankly at the TV, which currently displays only static.

(ignore the sword, that's not important 'till later)

"Floyd? Is that you?"

A disinterested hum is the only indication she even heard him.

Bob looks her over, "Well, somebody had a growth spurt. Isn't she supposed to be twelve?"

"I, ah, I think it made her the age she would've been if she was still alive."

"...Oh. Yikes."

Mario moves up in front of her, "Hey, Floyd, you hearing me kiddo?"

Her eyes, though still unfocused, shift over to him.

"Great. I'll let you get back to...whatever this is soon, but we really need your help right now." he pulls out a picture of a Wonder Seed, "have you seen something around here that looks like this?"

To most people it would just look like she's still staring, but anyone who really knows her can tell she's trying to remember, "...maybe? 's hard t' think."

"If it helps, they come in different colors, so it might not look just like this one."

"..." after a little while, she somehow slumps even more than she already had been, " 'm sorry. can't...remember."

He sighs and slumps a little himself, "that's alright. We can figure something else out."

As he turns to rejoin the rest of the group, he lingers at a hanging picture of him and Luigi, running his hand along the frame with a sad smile. Floyd...actually visibly reacts to this, sitting up and leaning forward a bit, her eyes just a little brighter.

"Luigi...he was with you guys, right? On that trip?"

"...Yeah."

"What happened?"

"...Kermit. I couldn't...he didn't jump in time."

"..." Her eyes turn sharp, returning to their usual resting glare, and she stands up and starts floating about an inch or so off the floor, "Follow me."

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

She leads them on a winding path through the forest, which looks particularly spooky when painted in shades of grey. Marcy, as usual, looks around suspiciously as they go.

"Give it a rest, sis. I'm pretty sure nothing around here cares enough to attack us."

"There's nothing wrong with staying vigilant. If nothing else it keeps me in practice. You could stand to be more cautious yourself, you know. I've heard about what you're like when you gamble."

"Hey, I'm getting better."

As the two of them are bickering, the group arrives at Floyd's house, which looks pretty much the same as it always does. She phases through the gate and opens it for everyone else, then brings them to the front door.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I left the Seed in my bedroom. You guys wait in the parlor while I grab it."

She's gone for a few moments, then comes back with a red Wonder Seed in hand and tosses it to 4, "here ya go."

"Thanks." he turns to the group, "Alright, that's three down and four to go! And with only one loss so fa-"

"Two."

"What?"

She points at Bob, "You lost two."

"Oh, goddamnit!"

"Huh, I didn't even notice." he checks himself out in a nearby mirror, "Hey, sweet! I look like some kinda Grim Reaper!"

"Yes, and it only cost you your legs and your freedom."

"Shut up Mar."

"Um," Tari raises her hand like this is school, "How are you still acting like yourself?"

"Eh, I've been living with bouts of depression for centuries. This artificial numbness isn't even the worst I've felt this decade."

(...Not sure how to end this so yeah, they head back to the ship and have to leave Bob behind, but he'll be fine and will probably be able to help Floyd with her brain fog issue. Next up is the mushroom forest Zone.)

(also older Floyd comes from this picrew, because she's one of those characters I've never been able to draw properly myself despite being my own goddamn oc)

[marauderundercover]

Jason Todd is tired. He’s tired of vigilantes and villains and dreary skies. Despite swearing to himself that he didn’t need a break, nor did he want a break, he accepted Bruce’s offer of a break (though Bruce was smart enough to not word it as a break). Instead of patrol and listening to police scanners, Jason was tasked with scouting out a location for a new branch of Wayne Enterprises in Paris. Tim was bitter that he wasn’t the one going, which just added to Jason’s excitement. If it meant pissing off the replacement, Jason would wear a pink beret, anything to piss the kid off. Grinning as he takes in the clear skies through the window of the plane, Jason can’t help but feel relaxed for the first time in a long time.

--------

So maybe Jason shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel relaxed. Because apparently, Paris has freaking supervillains that can flood the entirety of Paris without breaking a sweat.

Jason curses under his breath as he climbs higher up the fire escape, trying desperately not to look at the carnage surrounding him. The entirety of Paris, underwater. The only reason he wasn’t one of the bodies floating beneath him, was the location of his hotel room. B had insisted on Jason using the Wayne’s suite at Le Grand Paris, the one that he had bought in case of emergency trips to Paris. Not that Bruce ever made emergency trips anywhere, seeing as the bat much preferred to stay close to his own home base. Stopping on the roof, Jason pulls out his phone and dials Dick.

    “Hello?” Dick says, his confusion clear even an ocean away. Jason had made sure his brothers knew that his trip to Paris was going to be a silent one, he needed this time away from everything.

    “I know the news may look a little crazy right now, but I’m okay. Might need some Wayne Foundation trucks out here though once clean up begins. The survivors are gonna need somewhere to go-” Jason says, stopping as Dick cuts him off with a surprised noise.

    “Survivors? Little Wing, what’d you do?” He asks and Jason scoffs.

    “Just cause something bad happened, doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it Dickwad. Are there no news stations reporting this shit?” Jason asks as he glances around.

    “Reporting what? You’re kinda freaking me out-” Dick says, but Jason cuts him off.

    “Freaking you- Okay, hold on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and snaps several pictures of the carnage surrounding him, careful not to get any of the bodies’ faces in his pictures. He sends the pictures and waits a few seconds before hearing the sharp inhale of his older brother.

    “Why are no reports coming from Paris? This is- Jason this is huge. Can you tell how many survivors there are?” Dick asks, his voice more serious than Jason had heard in awhile.

    “Not immediately. I can see people on the surrounding rooftops but-” He pauses, glancing around. “There’s not a lot of people up here Dick.”

    “You’re coming home immediately. I don’t know why B let you go across an ocean by yourself-” Dick rants. Jason rolls his eyes and prepares to respond when suddenly, a bright light flashes in the sky and waves of light rush around the city. Jason blinks and suddenly, the water is gone. And where there were bloated corpses, are now living people. Smiling and acting as if nothing serious happened.

    “What the fuck.” Jason says, and Dick immediately stops talking.

    “Jason? What’s wrong?” He asks. Wordlessly, Jason takes several more pictures and sends them, once again waiting for Dick’s response. “I- is that a current view?” He asks.

    “Uh, yeah. Some freaky lights went everywhere and all of a sudden corpses are walking around and everyone is acting like this is normal.” Jason says, pacing the roof as he tries not to freak out.

    “Monsieur?” A voice calls out timidly, Jason whirls around and his eyes widen at the girl standing in front of him, a foot shorter than him and dressed in what was obviously a hero costume.

    “Uh, hi?” Jason says, ignoring the rapid fire questions from Dick.

    “Oh, um, are you okay?” The girl asks in heavily accented English. Jason just blinks at her before glancing around.

    “What was that?” He asks, barely able to hide the horror in his voice. The girl grimaces.

    “That was an akuma, sent by Hawkmoth. You are new in Paris, yes?” She asks and he nods slowly, not sure where she’s going with this. “I am Ladybug, one of Paris’ heroes. I can explain more, but you really should get off the roof first. And try not to panic, I’ll answer what questions I can, but just stay calm.” The girl says, holding her hands up in a calming manner. Jason nods and points to his phone. She nods in understanding and pulls out a yoyo before propelling to the ground. With a yoyo. Jason blinks in surprise but goes back to his phone.

    “I swear to god Jason if you don’t say something soon I’m going to-” Dick rambles.

    “I just met one of Paris’ heroes.” Jason says, cutting Dick off and reveling in the silence he created. “I’ll call back later, she’s supposed to answer some questions for me.” Jason says before unceremoniously hanging up. Jason climbs back down the fire escape, dropping the last ten feet and landing in a crouch. He stands up and quirks an eyebrow at the look on Ladybug’s face.

    “I could have helped you, no need to almost break a bone.” She says with a frown.

    “Kid, I’m twice your weight. You might be able to swing on a yoyo, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to carry me too.” He says, crossing his arms.

    “I’m not a kid, I’m uh, I’m a hero, er uh, Ladybug. I’m Ladybug.” She stammers, just solidifying in his mind that this is, in fact, a child. But he just nods, accepting that he was being a little patronizing.

    “Got it, sorry. Can you tell me why all of those corpses are just walking around now? And acting as if that was completely normal?” He asks, and Ladybug sighs.

    “Honestly, my guess is that they’re used to it by now. There was a lot of panic in the beginning, but once people realized that only made things worse...it’s better to just move forward.” She says, pursing her lips.

    “You’re all used to watching people die and come back to life?” Jason asks incredulously. Ladybug nods.

    “This all started a little over three years ago. We have to be used to this by now, otherwise people would be akumatized immediately after every battle.” She adds, and Jason frowns. Akumatized? Three years. This has been happening for over three years? Wait a minute-

    “Have you been the hero since the beginning?” Jason asks, cursing under his breath as Ladybug hesitantly nods. She glances around, watching the horizon nervously.

    “I- I’m not sure why you’re upset about this, and I’m really sorry for this, but you need to breathe. Just, try and think about something else if it upsets you.” Ladybug instructs, her gaze flitting around, occasionally falling back on Jason’s angry face before she’s once again glancing around.

    “Why the hell should I breathe? This is- this is insane! You may be a hero, but you’re still a kid. This is-” Jason freezes and blinks as Ladybug’s yoyo nearly crashes into his face, instead sucking up a little purple butterfly. Eyebrows furrowed, Jason glances at Ladybug’s face, almost immediately taken aback by the resigned look on the hero’s face.

    “This is why you should breathe. This is how Hawkmoth akumatizes you, it’s how he controls you and makes you into a villain that my partner and I will then have to battle. I understand your feelings, and it’s awful that you can’t completely feel them in Paris, but I have a feeling that you wouldn’t want to be used by a supervillain.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tenses. Stupid ass villains attacking kids who- he quickly tries to think about anything else when he sees how tired Ladybug looks.

    “Have you called for any outside help? I mean, no offense, you obviously know what you’re doing. But have you thought of calling for backup so that you can actually take a breath?” Jason asks, and Ladybug huffs before frowning.

    “We did- in the beginning. The day after the first attack, my partner and I met up and we called the Justice League. We were desperate, we knew that we needed help, training at the very least. But- the hero we talked to told us to call when there was an actual problem. As you saw with all of the water, I’m able to fix everything and return it to its state prior to the akuma attack. Anyway, by the time we could have built a case and petitioned for help, I decided it wasn’t a great idea. My partner...he’s tired too. He needs a break, so he petitions for help from time to time. But we can’t risk a member of the Justice League coming here, getting upset, and then turning into a villain. There are some akumatized people who were hard enough to beat without them having prior knowledge of combat. I- I trust my partner. But I don’t think either of us could fight against an akumatized Superman or Wonder Woman.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tries hard to avoid glancing at her shaking hands, lest he embarrass the poor kid by pointing out that she’s anxious about the whole conversation.

    “Would you be willing to accept help if it’s already currently in Paris?” Jason asks, an idea forming in his head.

    “What?” Ladybug asks, her hands no longer shaking as a shocked look flashes onto her face.

    “I’ve worked in security in some pretty intense cities. And I’ve worked as a freelance detective. If you want, I could help you and your partner.” Jason offers, only feeling slightly bad for the lies. Well, they’re not completely lies? Oh well. Not like the girl’s gonna figure that out or anything.

    “I-I would need to talk to my partner first. I don’t make these kinds of decisions without his input.” Ladybug says, and Jason nods.

    “If you and your partner agree to talk to me, I’ll be on this roof at midnight.” Jason says, and Ladybug purses her lips, but nods.

    “Thank you. Bye.” Ladybug waves, using her yoyo to swing away across Paris. Jason frowns as he watches her for a moment. Another kid brought in to fight a war that wasn’t their own. Jason curses under his breath, pushing his hair up as he takes deep breaths to calm down. Pulling out his phone, Jason dials the one number he didn’t want to contact while in Paris.

    “Hey, Replacement, listen up. I need you to do something.”

Next

[emperor-palpaminty]

Okay I got a request! The reader comes to pick Crosshair up on the platform after the end of the finale and we get some comforting Cross x fem!reader fluff?

By the way, good job on your works as always! Got some good stories in here.

Ah thank you so much! It's been hard for me to find joy in my own writing lately, so I'm trying to dig myself out of the writing slump hole and write these prompts!!

Obvs spoilers for the finale, so if ya don't want it, keep a-scrollin'!

It had stopped raining on Kamino- that was the first thing you noticed. The heavy and never ending downpour had turned this into a beautiful ocean planet. You stopped and looked out the window of your ship, sucking in a breath.

You glanced down at the beeping commlink, picking it up. Your finger hesitated, and then you pressed the button. "Yes."

"Mandalorian. Do you have CC-9904?"

"Relax, Rampart." You snorted. "I'll let you know. Keep your shirt on." You fought to keep the frown out of your voice, voice level. "No, really- keep your shirt on. That's out of uniform, I think."

"Just-" The man stopped and inhaled, and you could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. "Get him."

"Roger." You shut off the comm, flying lower to the surface of the planet. "Get him, he says. It'll be fun, he says." You leveled your ship, slowly lowering it closer to the water. You reached out, pressing the scanner button, leaning forward to stare out of your ship window again.

The scanner beeped, the little red light on the dash pointing at a specific location- a dock.

I'm coming, Cross.

___

Your ship landed with a shudder, violently shaking the whole platform. You hurried down, glancing around, yanking your helmet off as your eyes landed on the lanky figure across the landing dock.

"Cross," Your voice was hoarse, and you ran towards him.

Crosshair turned, his amber eyes widening only for a moment as your body crashed into his, clasping your arms around his lanky armored form. You held him tightly as Crosshair's arms slowly encircled you in return, reluctant. He crumbled, a man broken, and leaned heavily on you, hollowed cheek pressing into your hair as he hugged you.

"Sarad," He mumbled, and you stood firm.

Sometimes, the one you thought was strong needed a foundation. He clasped you, chest welling up against you, body rigid and tight.

He didn't say anything. Not did he have to.

You stepped away, holding his hands. "The Empire wants me to bring you in. As a prisoner."

"They'll take me back."

"Yeah, dead." You hissed. "Cross, darling, please-" You glanced over the waters of Kamino, rolling, crashing atop each other, eager to get to the sun they had never seen before. "Come with me, Cross."

"Where would we go? What would we do? No." Cross shook his head. "They'll be looking for you."

Your comm beeped again, and both of your eyes darted to it. You hesitated, then glanced at him, heart panging. "No. They won't." Your hand wrapped around the cylinder and you clicked it on. "Hey, Rampart. How's my favorite tight-ass?"

"Enough quip. Did you find the clone?"

"Sorry, sir. I've been skimming the planet, and there's nothing. I guess the clones died in the destruction." You cut the button, holding your breath, listening.

Crosshair raised his brows. "This won't work." He hissed. You shushed him and waved him away, signaling him to shut up.

"Very well." Rampart replied, voice thick. "I must admit, I regret CC-9904's betrayal. But less clones means less resistance to the Empire."

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, are you sending the credits to my same account?" You tapped your foot, the little puddles at your feet on the deck. "Or...?"

Sighing impatiently, Rampart hissed into the comm. "Yes, yes. You continue to faithfully serve the Empire. We will contact you further should we have more jobs."

"Great." You glanced at Crosshair, who looked at you, the Kaminoian sun reflecting brilliantly in his eyes. "I'll keep the channels open." You clicked the button, reaching out and holding his hands again. "Come on. They won't bother for you."

"What am I going to do?" Crosshair snarled. His voice broke in his throat, and his fingers twitched in your grip as he started to draw away. "I'm a burden."

You stared at him, watching this former shell of a man hug his arms to himself. Fighting in a war, alone, could take a lot out of him. "Cross." You moved forward, laying one hand gently on his black armor. "You're never a burden to me. If you see yourself as a burden, then you're a burden I'm happy to carry." You smiled, gently, hopefully. "Say the word and the galaxy is yours. We can do anything, Cross. Plus-" You nodded your head back to the ship, smiling brightly. "I need a number two in bounty hunting. An assistant, if you will."

Crosshair skimmed you, hesitantly, shell squeezing open, small cracks in his closed exterior. Finally, he snorted, only offering a half a smile. "I'm not a sidekick."

"Tall, silent, intimidating- yeah, perfect sidekick." You laughed, gently, tugging at his arm. "Come on. Let's go. We can survive. Let's just.... Take whatever the galaxy throws at us."

Crosshair smiled gently and his steps, small as they may have been, followed you, as you led him towards your ship. "Together?"

His boots hit the metallic deck as you both climbed up. "Together." You confirmed, softly, drawing him into you as the door to your ship closed.

Crosshair's hand ran over your back, feeling through the suit that revealed between your armor. "Where to?"

"To anywhere." You laughed, gently, tilting your head up, making the promise sealed between your lips and his.

[lexosaurus]

Upload Complete

A late fic for day 3 of dp side hoes week!

Character: Wes Theme: Denial

---

Wes held his breath, watching the upload bar slowly increase.

Uploading 94%

Anxious energy buzzed in his veins, but he was still. Frozen. As if a single muscle twitch would bring this all crashing down.

Uploading 95% 

It wouldn’t have been the first time his plans were thwarted at the last minute. Just last week he had been on his way home, camera in hand, when suddenly he felt the familiar chill of intangibility pass over him and his camera swiped from his clutches. He looked up to see Phantom, in all his egotistical glory, reach inside the camera, grab the memory card, and melt it in his palms.

Uploading 96%

But with each failure, months of countless iterations of the same plan, he had grown. He had learned. He had become more cunning, more discrete.

It really was only a matter of time before this day would come.

Uploading 97%

He was so close.

So close.

Uploading 98%

His mouth was a dessert. His hands clutched the edge of his desk, shaking. He couldn’t remember when the last time he blinked was, but it didn’t matter, nothing else mattered right now except how close he was he was so close. 

Uploading 99%

So close.

Finally.

After all this time.

It was happening.

Upload complete

A breath escaped his lips. And then another. And another. Until the breaths quickened, and sound followed. A laugh. A breathy, weightless laugh.

He leaned back in his chair, allowing hilarity to overtake his body. This was bliss, it was pure bliss. 

Wes stretched his arms out and stared up at the ceiling. 

He had won. 

After months of trying, he finally caught the perfect video showcasing the tail end of Phantom’s fight today with the infamous mecha ghost Skulker. Phantom sucked the ghost into his ghost thermos, flew behind a tree, and glanced around suspiciously for a brief moment before triggering his transformation sequence. Then, like icing on the cake, Foley and Manson appeared and had a conversation with Danny Fenton about the fight that Danny Phantom had just gone through. Fenton displayed the ecto-thermos and uttered the perfect lines about needing to “get him back to the Ghost Zone,” before turning his hand and the thermos intangible and shoving the object into his backpack.

The video was, by all accounts, perfect. Simply perfect. It was the exact undeniable proof that Wes had spent months trying to capture.

Now it was online for the world to see.

All he had to do now was share the link to the popular Phantom fan forum, sit back, and watch the internet work its magic.

If Wes was right, Phantom would be trending in an hour. News sites would be covering him by tonight. By tomorrow, everyone would know who—or what—Fenton really was.

A liar. An abomination. A danger to society. 

All because of Wes.

He was victorious.

This was—

---

—wrong.

Wes pressed a hand against the glass, his eyes wide as he watched as red streaked against the green splatters dotting the panel.

This was all wrong.

“Come to gloat?” an icy voice sounded from beyond the glass wall.

“I never wanted this,” Wes whispered. He couldn’t take his eyes off the green stains on the glass, on the wall, on the floor. It popped against the otherwise barren room, painting the bleached scene with a terrifying story.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” The voice coughed, and then groaned. “You did this to me, Wes. This is your fault.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up.”

Wes’s eyes snapped over to the figure beyond the glass. It was sallow, decrepit. Nothing more than a bony mess of black, white, and green in a torn jumpsuit.

And it finally connected in Wes’s brain where he’d seen Phantom’s uniform before. It looked exactly like the suits worn in ecto-science labs.

Because when he saw the ghost now, Phantom looked right at home. He looked like he was made to be a lab rat.

And that made Wes nauseous.

“I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t want to be—to be a freak.” Phantom’s head lolled back against the wall. A trickle of ectoplasm dripped from his chin, peppering the floor with even more green, but he made no move to clean his face.

Wes’s hand fell to his side. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m gonna get you out of here.” His voice didn’t sound too convincing. It sounded pathetic, weak.

Phantom snorted, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“I will,” Wes reiterated.

“Whatever you say.”

His pulse quickened, and before he could stop himself he choked out, “I just need to know. I need to know. What—what are you?”

Phantom’s eyes narrowed, snapping onto Wes. 

Wes could have forgotten how to breathe. “Please, I need to know. Are you dead?”

“No.”

Wes’s blood ran cold.

“As in no, you don’t get to know what I am.” Phantom said. “You don’t get that privilege. Do you understand, Weston? You posted that video knowing that everyone, everyone, would see it, including the federal organization established to capture me. You knew deep down that this was going to happen. You just didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was that you were right and everyone else was just in too deep denial to see it, am I right?”

It was so hard to breathe. 

Phantom leaned forward, his head drooping down to his chest. “You took away everything. I have nothing left. So now you can just sit there for the rest of your life and think about the fact that you have no idea if the person who you condemned to a lifetime of imprisonment was human, or ghost, or something in between.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing, you know,” Wes said, frustration seeping into his tone. “I just threw away my life too by doing this. I can’t exactly go home either.”

“Oh what, am I supposed to thank you now? For ruining my life but then coming back to ‘save’ me?” Phantom snapped. “Shut the fuck up.”

He could have left. He could have just turned around and left Phantom to rot in this compound for the rest of his afterlife.

But no, he’d come so far. And as today, he was officially a criminal. 

He could never go home now. He couldn’t waste this trip.

And besides, he knew that he needed Phantom’s help in escaping the compound. This plan was a one way trip, put together after months of planning. Months of working with one of the most notorious hackers Wes knew online.

This was the best plan he had. But it wasn’t foolproof. 

“I can get you in,” the hacker said from the other side of the screen. “After that? You’re on your own.”

Wes nodded. “That’s all I need.”

Silas was silent for a moment. “You know, when you reached out to me on Reddit, I thought you were delusional at first. I thought that this plan would never work, that you were out of your mind. But I figured I’d entertain you for a minute. At least hear you out before I wrote you off completely.”

“And I’m grateful.”

“But now, Wes? Now I just think you have a death wish.”

“You don’t understand,” Wes said bitterly. “This is my fault. I need to get Phantom out.”

“You’ll kill yourself before you make it out of there.”

“Please, just tell me what I need to know.”

There was a fingerprint scanner mounted on the wall next to the glass pane. Wes approached it cautiously, trying to ignore Phantom’s eyes that tracked his every move, and stopped before the wall. 

“The hacker I’ve been working with programmed my thumb into this lock,” Wes said. “I’ll unlock it, then we run. Once we clear the door, you phase us out of here. Okay?”

Phantom didn’t say anything, but Wes didn’t need him to. There was no alternative plan, no other way to make it out of here intact. It was either this, or they both die.

Wes lifted his trembling hand, pressing his thumb to the scanner. The scanner came to life, lighting up green as it read his finger print.

For a moment, nothing happened. Deafening silence permeated the room, the mounting pressure slowly suffocating Wes’s lungs. Each millisecond that the scanner spent on his thumb felt like an eternity.

And then, just when he felt like he was about to collapse, the scanner turned red.

Time stopped. Wes’s eyes widened, and he drew in a short, shuddering breath. 

No. 

The blaring started.

NO!

The room filled with red light and high-pitched wailing. Wes’s legs cemented to the ground, and all he could do was turn his head and watch in horror as Phantom’s terrified eyes rolled to the back of his head before the ghost collapsed on the ground.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t have been real.

How did their plan fail?

Wes heard the door open, and the sounds of footsteps filled surrounded him. He couldn’t turn around, he couldn’t watch as his worst fears unfolded in front of him.

“So you were the rogue fingerprint,” a deep voice from behind him said. “You know, we thought it was odd when all of the sudden one day, a twenty seventh fingerprint suddenly was logged into the scanner seemingly overnight.”

No…

“Teenager, huh? Always think you’re invincible.”

Wes opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

His body was numb. He couldn’t feel his limbs. His brain was screaming at him to run, get out of here, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, not because of anything the government had done to him.

No. It was fear.

“Too bad for you, you’re not as invincible as you think you are.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[littlestarrykenobi]

A Drink that Leads to More (Sugawara x reader 18+ fic)

Summary: A drink between coworkers leads to a little more with Sugawara Koshi.

Warnings: Implied alcohol consumption, spanking, degradation, NSFW

Word Count: 2112

You were putting the books back a little later than usual when Mr. Sugawara walked in with yet another stack of chapter books.

“Oh you have to be kidding me!” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he awkwardly pushed the library cart over to the little desk.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I had to wait until everyone was picked up before heading down here.”

“Fine, fine,” You sigh as you stand up from the low shelves, hiding a smirk as you watch him turn his face away quickly. “But since you’re the one causing me the issue, I expect you to help me fix it. Come on, take a scanner, we’re getting these checked in as quickly as possible alright?”

“Maybe we could… Go for a drink after?” he offered, a slight blush on his cheeks as he did as you instructed. “It’s a Friday after all and it’s not like I’m eager to stay in and grade spelling tests all night…”

“You know what? Sounds fun. Anyone joining us?”

“N-No I uh… Thought it’d be nice for it to just be the two of us.”

“Ah,” You muse, a blush on your cheeks as you avoid eye contact. “Yeah, sounds good actually.”

What you couldn’t have anticipated was exactly how much of a lightweight he would be. You giggled as you gave him water, kissing his forehead comfortingly as he leaned against you in the booth, already tipsy after the couple of drinks he’d had. He was still fine but you wanted him to slow down before he got any worse.

“I’m just a little dizzy is all,” he mumbled, blushing as he tried to sit up. “I can’t help that you make me so nervous.”

“Nervous?” You laugh, teasing him gently as you try to encourage his water consumption. “What would there be to be ner-“

He wrapped his beautiful long fingers around your wrist, staying your hand. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And I know we can’t… The rules at the school… But gah, it’s… I don’t care what they might say. I’ve wanted to kiss you since you first transferred in here…”

He reached his other hand up, gently caressing your face with the back of his hand, feeling the curve of your cheek with a loving adoration.

“If you wanted to kiss me… why didn’t you say anything?” you whisper in response, grateful that you didn’t have to raise your voice as he leaned closer in to you.

“Does that mean you want to kiss me too, sugar?” he mumbled with a smirk, his lips ghosting yours.

You hum softly, pressing your lips to his as his arms go around your waist, pulling you closer as you ignore the rest of the world around you. As far as you’re concerned you’re the only two people in existence. He smelled like bourbon and firewood, his lips tasted like liquor an cherries and it was getting you more intoxicated by the second. Reluctantly you both pulled away for air, his eyes wide and all the stars in the sky had decided to settle right in those two lovely hazelnut orbs.

“Koshi,” you whispered, and he nodded before even knowing the question. “Back to my place?”

You squealed with laughter as he chased you from the car to your front door, picking you up from behind and spinning you up the stairs to the porch. You had both sobered up from the two light drinks you’d had at the bar, both now only drunk off the moment and the feeling of being together for the first time.

“Put me down Koshi!” You laughed as you grabbed your keys out from your jacket. “I have to unlock the door.”

“Oh don’t think you’ll get away from me that easily!” he laughed, letting you open the front door as he tugged on his tie, discarding it as soon as the two of you walked through the door. “We uh… We could watch a-“

He looked back over at you as you began to unbutton your dress shirt. He let out a shaky breath, trying not to let his eyes wander or linger for too long.

Oh.

“It’s that kind of party is it?” He teased as you flushed, the two of you having a race back to your bedroom, chuckling as he let you win, still smirking as you shut the door in his face. “Oh come on, sugar, open up…”

“Why should I?” You tease, stripping yourself of your shirt and fiddling with your pants as you pressed your back to the door.

“I’ll give you what you want, what we both want, but you have to open the door,” He purred, pressing his forehead and his hands to the door, imagining what state of undress you must be in by this point. “I won’t bite… hard… unless you want me to?”

He could imagine you blushing, letting out a low growl as he jiggled the doorknob. “Oooh you didn’t lock it did you? You want me to come in, just admit it,” he teased.

You had already left the door, choosing to lounge back on the bed waiting for him to finally break the rules he’d set for himself. If he walked in right now… if you two did this… the relationship you two had before, as colleagues and friends, would change forever. And luckily for the both of you… he was more than ready to change that status.

“Fine if you won’t say it out loud, I’ll pull it from those gorgeous lips of yours,” He chuckled, summoning his courage as he pushed the door open. He could have melted at the sight, already feeling weak at the knees at the sight of you, just in your underwear as you laid back in the low light of your room. “Oh baby I’m going to give you what you need.”

“And what’s it that I need?” You tease as he strips his dress shirt off, letting you see his still toned body. Even now that he was nearing thirty, he’d kept up exercising that was clearly paying off. Not completely chiseled by any means, his body was toned, almost like a swimmer’s body. His frame was still slender, his arms clearly a point of pride as he stalked over to the bed, grabbing your legs behind your knees and dragging your ass to the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he kissed your stomach down to the waistband of your underwear.

“Just shut up,” he chuckled, fingers hooking on your underwear, pulling them off slowly, planting kisses along every new inch exposed as he pulled the inconvenient cloth away. “Unless you really want me to stop because… I want to make you my toy…”

Suga finally pulled the clothing off you, flinging it to the side with a smirk. “I can tell you,” He chuckled. “You won’t be needing these for a while. God you look so fucking gorgeous…”

He kisses around your sex, always just brushing over where you want him. “Oh, is this for me?” He teased, running his fingers along the evidence of your arousal. “Aren’t I special? I didn’t even know I had so much power over you, princess, but let me tell you I’m not complaining…”

Suga’s warm lips finally pressed a kiss to your sex, chuckling as he realized how much it affected you but not wanting to stop to tease right yet. He had plenty of work to do, that was for certain. He kissed and licked and sucked, bringing you as close to orgasm as possible before backing off, reveling in how you whined for him, one hand keeping his pace going as he slid his own pants off.

“Oh no, sugar, you don’t get to finish yet. I want this first time to be special… to be… together.”

He pressed two fingers against your opening, moaning sweetly as your body welcomed him with little resistance, whispering a string of cuss words as he stroked himself, leaning over your body with his head on your shoulder. “Good baby doll,” He muttered as he began to slowly move his fingers in and out of your waiting sex, pressing a third in as soon as he felt you were ready. “Good… good…”

He moaned as he saw how slick his fingers were becoming with need, a shiver running down his spine. “Fine, I-I think you’re… ready…”

He lined his cock up to your entrance, sucking the slick off his fingers eagerly before tilting your chin up to look into his eyes. “You’re so beautiful…” Sugawara whispered as he pressed into you, a strangled moan following his words almost immediately. “You’re so… fucking… shit… you’re so tight! Fuck that’s not what I want to… say…”

Panting, struggling to breathe as he let you adjust to his girth. He wanted nothing more than to take you fast, passionately and deeply as he left a perfect you shaped crater in the mattress but he held himself back, wanting to try to make love to you before taking you like the caged animal he was. He let his head roll back, eyes fluttering shut as he finally began to slowly move, your knees on either side of his hips, his hands resting on top of them as he tried to balance and pace himself.

“You… have been on my mind for, shit, so fucking long now… And God damn you’re… Fuck… I’m never letting you go fuck you look so pretty taking my cock like that…”

Your moans were like the sweetest music to his ears, loving how you contorted under him as he gained speed, muttering teasing things in your ear before he pulled out, ruining another building orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach, pushing you further up the bed as he mounted you from behind.

“Fuck your ass looks so good…” he whispered before landing a firm smack on your exposed flesh, chuckling as you cried out. “Don’t you remember I used to play volleyball? I still remember how to spike, sugar.”

His voice was low, his breathing deep and controlled as he realigned himself with your waiting fuckhole. “That’s a good little slut,” he purred in your ear, predatory and demanding. “Take my fat cock like a good whore.”

He spanked you again and again as he fucked you, pressing your face into the mattress as he threw out his ideas of a sweet and gentle love. He wasn’t able to hold back nearly as well as he’d believed himself capable but he was too needy to care. “That’s a good slut,” He muttered, letting out a cry as you clenched down on him. “Good… Fuck… Cum for me baby do it,” he demanded, reaching around to play with your sex as he felt his own climax fast approaching.

He moved one hand quickly, forcing your head back just enough to be able to look at how your eyes rolled back as you came for him. That was the image he’d been looking for, the last thing to send him over the edge as he rapidly pulled out, his hand gripping the base of his cock as he shot three long sticky strands over your ass and back, panting still as he let you collapse into the bed.

“I-I’m so… fuck… sorry…” he mumbled, reaching quickly for a tissue. “I-I’ll clean you up and…”

His hands shook, chuckling softly as his cheeks reddened. “you did look… more beautiful than I ever imagined…”

He looked around for a trash can but… he knew he was seconds away from his own knees collapsing on him so he decided it’d be better to take refuge next to you and worry about the trash later. He pulls you in to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you both basked in the afterglow.

“How is it you can still smell so fucking good after all that?” He teased. “I must smell like a pig… You’re so… You’re like an angel, sugar…”

Suga gently pushed the hair out of your face, admiring how perfect your eyes looked in the low light coming from your bedside lamp. “I… I want to stay with you… If that’s alright, of course…”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You mumble, shivering a bit before he pulls the blankets up over the two of you. “We’ll try and get up later, yeah…?”

He nodded in agreement, chuckling as he felt the butterflies return to his stomach with every gentle touch of your hand. “You just… rocked my world… And… Man am I glad I was late…”

[sinemoras09]

1.

The remains of the Citadel lie crooked against a starscape of blues and blacks, the long arms connecting individual spheres of cities jutting out like jagged bones. On the inside, Construction Ricks rappel down the city towers, small and ant-like compared to the gleaming city structures below them.

Militia Ricks step out, ferrying the dead. A dusty truck crunches over debris and broken glass, while bodies are rolled up in thick stripes of canvas and tossed into the back.

In a subterranean basement, Caretaker Ricks rush around the large glass columns of yellow liquid while thousands of clone bodies are decanted, sputtering and slimy, a thousand reborn Ricks coughing and crouching on the ground.

*****

The artificial light is stuck in perpetual dawn or dusk, the entirety of the skyline barely visible in the dying half-light. In the middle of the rubble, Slow Rick is crying, a lone figure crouching among a throng of dead Mortys, his yellow shirt scuffed and his temple caked with old dried blood.

"Can, can, can anybody help me?" Slow Rick says. He hugs his arms and limps, accidentally kicking a dead Morty in the shoulder. He starts crying harder. "I-i-is anybody there?"

Cop Rick is digging in the rubble when he sees him and comes running over.

"Are you, are you my new Rick?" Slow Rick says. Cop Rick kneels down in front of him.

"Y-yeah. Yeah buddy, I am for now," Cop Rick says. He reaches back into his holster and grabs a tablet, quickly scrolling through the Citadel database. Slow Rick, it says, also known as Tall Morty, from dimension K-32-ipsilon-9. He suffers from Savant Syndrome and excels in electronics and rapid calculations. He invented a portal gun, accidentally portaling himself into Federation Space, where he became frightened and started calling out for his caretakers.

"Your name is Slow Rick, Rick?" Cop Rick says. Slow Rick shakes his head.

"My name is Tall Morty," Slow Rick says. Cop Rick touches his shoulder.

"All right, Tall Morty. Let's get you some help, buddy."

"Thank you, Mr. Rick," Slow Rick says. Cop Rick nods.

"Hey now, just call me Rick," Cop Rick says, and he helps him up from the ground.

*****

2.

They found him living in an adult care facility in a dimension 70 iterations off the Central Finite Curve. It wasn't surprising: ever since the Council of Ricks implemented routine brain scans across the multiverse, they found non-scientist Ricks in all sorts of places. There were Ricks who became school teachers and Ricks who were truck drivers, working stiff Ricks with the same potential and IQs.

The portal opened, and they expected that this Rick was a caregiver, maybe a physician or a nurse working in the facility. They weren't expecting to see him as a resident, wearing a bright orange shirt and eating a popsicle.

*****

"I didn't know Ricardo had a twin brother," was the first thing the receptionist said, as one of the Citadel Ricks conducting surveillance filled out his paperwork. The Rick opened his mouth, about to answer, when his other Rick partner stepped up behind him.

"Yo, I just did a preliminary scan, the Gromflomites have this place under surveillance." The second Rick walked toward the first Rick, where the receptionist choked on her coffee and did a double take. "Oh. Shit."

"Yeah. We're, uh. Triplets." The first Rick handed her the clipboard. "Uh. Monozygotic," he said, and he thumbed between the two of them. "And with little Ricky, uh, dizygotic."

"Oh. I see." The receptionist smiled kindly.

"Hey. I don't know you," Slow Rick said, as the two Ricks flanked beside him. The caregiver tsked at him.

"Ricardo. These are your brothers, Rick and Rico," the caregiver said.

"That's okay, ma'am. We don't blame him - we never really visited." The Ricks glanced at each other, uneasily. "Hey buddy. You playing with blocks, man?"

"Yeah!" Slow Rick said, and he beamed up at them happily. Warily the Ricks sat down at the table, watching him.

"Why the hell are the Glomflomites keeping him under surveillance? All he does is play with blocks and fingerpaints." The second Rick frowned, looking around.

"Hey, check it out," the second Rick said. Slow Rick started writing a bunch of numbers on a notepad. "Watcha doin' there, buddy?"

"I'm making a formula!"

"Oh, wow, buddy, real cool there, let's see--" he picked up the paper. His eyes widened.

"Bro," the second Rick said, and he handed it to the first.

"Did he...did he just come up with a grand Unified Theory of Everything? On the back of a fingerpainting?" Technically, all standard Ricks solved the riddle of marrying quantum physics to the theory of relativity decades ago, but given Slow Rick had the mentality of a 6-year-old, they were impressed.

"Ma'am? Is it okay if we take him out for day-long excursions?" The Ricks had radioed their findings to the Council, who ordered them to bring Slow Rick in.

"Of course!" the caregiver said, and she handed them the paperwork.

*****

Slow Rick - or Tall Morty, as he was now called - loved the Citadel. The Rick caretakers gave him candy. Everybody was really nice to him.

"What's this?" Slow Rick said. The Ricks set down a small glass of portal fluid, which glowed a hazy iridescent green.

"I-it makes things go other places. See?" One of the Ricks loaded it into a portal gun, shot two portals, and tossed a ball through. It sank into one membrane, then bounced off the second, making Slow Rick laugh hysterically.

"You think you can make that, buddy?" The Ricks provided all the materials. They would sit down and watch him to make sure he didn't do anything too dangerous. Slow Rick grinned and nodded.

"Yeah! I can do that!" Slow Rick said, and he started grabbing materials.

Like the other Ricks, this Rick had a genius's intuition. This Rick threw together the ingredients of portal fluid without measuring it. The two Ricks watched as he loaded his finished fluid into the portal gun, then shot two portals. They tossed in a ball, which easily slipped through it.

"Good job, buddy! Y-y-you think you can solve this equation?"

"Sure!" Slow Rick chirped, and he started writing down the math, chewing on a piece of licorice and kicking his feet under the table.

*****

3.

A circle of Militia Ricks surround a fallen Gromflomite, who's lying on his back and shaking. Wordlessly they all unholster their ray guns and shoot, the purple rays searing the Gromflomite's carapace and liquifying its insides.

"Geez," a Militia Rick says. Another Gromflomite charges at him but the Militia Ricks pull out their ray guns, easily neutralizing him. "How many fucking more of these Federation goons are left?"

"Hard to say, D-23. That's why we're patrolling each sector searchin' for them."

"Ugh, I wanna go home," the Militia Rick says. Another Gromflomite pops up to the side of him, but he points his arm and shoots him dead without even looking at him. "This sucks." Another Rick nods.

"Yeah, I know."

More digging. They throw pieces of rubble into a pile, hoisting up the dead bodies crushed beneath the debris. The Ricks are sweating, wiping their foreheads with their sleeves, when behind them there's a flurry of action.

"We got more survivors!" a Militia Rick says.

There's a group of Mortys huddled beneath the remains of what used to be a pharmacy. Around them, overturned shelves and broken bottles are scattered by their feet. The Mortys are miraculously intact, holding each other and crouching beneath a cardboard Rick sign advertising Energy Juice.

"W-w-w-what's going on?" a Morty says. The Militia Ricks flash their flashlights on him, the beam cutting a white line through the shadowed ruins. "Why were they attacking us? What's happening?"

"I don't know." The Militia Rick digs him out of the rubble. "What's your designation?"

"I-I-I don't remember. But they called me Glasses Morty." Glasses Morty isn't wearing his glasses. The Militia Rick grunts and hefts him and his friends out of the pile.

*****

In a remote outpost on the farthest corner of the Citadel, Cop Rick walks with Slow Rick following an abandoned street. The asphalt is cracked and jutting out at odd angles, the buildings surrounding it bombed out and crumbling. Cop Rick walks and he hears a few errant bricks falling off. He pulls out his scanner and searches for other biosignatures. No one else is alive.

"M-M-Mr. Cop Rick?"

"Yeah, Tall Morty?"

"W-w-when can I go home?" Slow Rick hugs his arms. "I'm scared and I'm cold."

"It's okay, Tall Morty. I-I got separated from my unit, but whatever was attacking us seems to have gone home." Cop Rick looks around. "Sorry, buddy. To tell you the truth, I-I-I'm just a rookie, I haven't even graduated from the Academy. Sorry you got saddled with a useless Rick like me."

"Y-y-you didn't gradutate yet?"

Cop Rick smiles. "It's graduate," he says, gently. "And no, I-I'm still part of the Academy."

They keep walking. A column of smoke rises from another ruined building, and Cop Rick hears someone yelling.

"Help me!" It's a Morty. "Help, can somebody help?"

"I'm coming!" Cop Rick says, and he breaks out into a run.

He can see a flash of yellow peaking out from a pile of debris. Cop Rick skids onto his knees, then starts digging through the rubble.

But it's too late. The Morty is guppy breathing, skin clammy, the blood that was tamponaded by the rubble suddenly rushing out. His lung is punctured and his pelvis is shattered. The Morty gasps, then chokes for air.

"Are you, are you a cop?" The Morty's eyes drag listlessly up toward Cop Rick's. "Are you gonna rescue me?"

There's no way the Morty will live another day, let alone the next ten minutes. Cop Rick grasps his hand.

"Yeah, buddy," Cop Rick says. "Reinforcements are coming, just hang on."

The Morty smiles. It's a sickly smile, wan and pale, until his pupils dilate and he stops breathing.

"Shit," Cop Rick says. He wipes his eyes angrily.

In the background, Slow Rick whimpers. Cop Rick straightens, dusting the front of his uniform.

"C'mon," Cop Rick says. "It's getting dark.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24816478

[mischiefandspirits]

Doppelgänger (19/19)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Identity Crisis, Part 2}

Danny melted onto Valerie’s hoverboard with a sigh as she kissed him. She was kneeling between his legs with one of her arms braced next to his head to hold her weight off him while the hand of the other snuck under his shirt to stroke his side. His own hands were occupied with holding her close and running through her long curly hair.

They were hovering high above Amity, partially hidden within some low clouds. They’d been admiring the view and taking in the afternoon sun when they’d gotten a bit distracted.

Valerie chuckled into the kiss and pulled back. She gave his limp form a pleased look then ducked down to pepper his neck with kisses.

Of course, that was when his ghost sense went off.

I’m going to kill whoever it is, Danny thought as Valerie’s scanner started ringing and she pulled away.

“There’s a ghost right beneath us,” Valerie growled, glaring at the scanner before giving Danny an apologetic look.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for mixing dates with patrol,” he chuckled with a shrug.

She glanced down. “It should be fine to leave it to Doppelgänger.”

He sat up to look down as well, his hair hiding the red shine in his eyes. He spotted a glowing laptop flying down a road.

Ugh, who let Technus out? He reached out for his partners, but neither responded. He looked around to be sure neither of them was in sight and said, “They don’t seem to be here. Should probably make sure the ghost doesn’t cause trouble before they can get here.”

“Yeah.” She pulled up her mask and he braced himself as she brought them down. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine, Val. Really.” Jazz is definitely going to kick his butt if she found out about this, though.

Valerie dropped him off in an alley before shooting off after the laptop.

Who let Technus out? Danny asked again as he transformed and flew after her.

Tech-Oh shoot! Tucker hissed. He’s why my laptop was running slow! He must have been stuck in my cache. My bad!

Well, that explains why he’s flying around inside a laptop.

Want some help? Sam asked.

Valerie’s already on the scene, Danny pointed out.

Right, I forgot you guys were on a date.

DON’T LET HER DESTROY MY LAPTOP! Tucker shouted.

Danny turned a corner to see Valerie trying to blast the laptop. We’ll try.

He tried to sneak around the fight so he could try to knock Technus out, but was distracted when Valerie got wrapped in the laptop’s cord.

“Red!” he shouted, shooting towards her to pull her free. He looked her over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she huffed and shoved herself out of his grip as her board swung around to catch her.

“Well now, this is interesting.”

The two turned back to Technus just as the laptop stopped glowing and fell. Danny darted over to grab it before it could hit the ground, then looked around for the ghost.

“My scanner is only picking up you,” Valerie said and Danny checked the computer.

Wireless transfer complete.

“Ugh, he sent himself somewhere else,” Danny groaned.

“Well, you’re the one with technokinesis. I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?” He looked up to see Valerie turning away. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“Well crud,” Danny muttered. He shoved the laptop into the fold and dove into the ground, flying as fast as he could back to the alley Valerie had left him in. Good news and bad news. Good news, our laptop’s fine and Val’s leaving. Bad news, we lost Technus and Val’s leaving him to us because we’ve got tech powers and she wants to continue our date.

The irony, Sam sighed.

I can’t leave right now. Kiran and I are right in the middle of a debate on which generation of Pokémon is the best, Tucker said.

Kiran? Danny asked, popping up in the alley and transforming back just before Valerie could come around the corner.

This really really cute freshman in the computer club. They’re a gamer who’s building their own PC, they’ve got the hottest smile, and I refuse to let Technus blow this for me!

An unimpressed feeling came from Sam. I’ll take care of Technus. Clearly, your love lives are more important.

“You okay?” Danny asked Valerie. Sorry, Sam. I can tell Val I need to go.

“Yeah, it’s a tech ghost so Doppelgänger’s taking care of it.”

No, it’s fine, Sam said. You’ve ducked out of dates for us plenty of times. You deserve some alone time. It wasn’t really you I was mad at.

“If you’re sure. What do you want to do now?” Danny asked, stepping up onto Val’s board.

I think my love life deserves more consideration than his, Tucker huffed. Since, you know, I DON’T HAVE ONE!

Valerie grabbed his waist and tugged him against her. “How about we find some privacy? We can head to my house since my dad’s working until midnight. We can cuddle and watch tv. I think there’s supposed to be an animated Batman marathon on.”

Danny tuned out his partners as he nodded. He shifted behind her and braced himself as she took off towards Elmerton. She flew up to her window and opened it, letting Danny climb through before slipping carefully in. She recalled her board and pulled down her mask.

The boy didn’t have a chance to react before she was scoping him up and setting him on her dresser so she could kiss him. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he tried to bring his own up, only to knock something off her dresser.

She snorted into the kiss and he mumbled, “Sorry,” as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Valerie?”

The two froze.

The door opened and Damon Gray poked his head inside. “I didn’t realize you were -”

Valerie jumped away from Danny while he squeaked and worked very hard not to turn invisible.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Valerie’s father looked at Valerie, then Danny, then Valerie’s suit.

“H-hey, Daddy. I thought you were supposed to be at work,” Valerie said nervously.

“I had a break so I came to grab something I’d forgotten. Fortunately.” He gave her a sharp look. “Get changed. We’re going to have a talk before I head back. Mr. Fenton, out.”

“Yessir.” Danny gave her a quick apologetic look before following Mr. Gray into the living area.

He froze when the man grabbed his shoulder. “I like you, Fenton. You’re a smart kid and you’ve got a good heart. However, if I ever catch you in my daughter’s room without my permission again, you will be reminded in a far more painful way than I’m doing now that I carry a loaded weapon for my job and I am trained to use it. Understand?”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir. I swear, we weren’t doing anything like, you know, that. We were just -”

“Out.”

“Yep, right, leaving!” Danny ran for the front door.

“And Danny,” Mr. Gray called before he could close it behind him. “I suggest you go straight home. I’ll be calling your parents as soon as I talk to Valerie.”

Danny flinched and nodded. “Right.”

As soon as he made it to the alley next to Valerie’s apartment building, he slumped against the wall and screamed into his hands. Then he transformed and headed home as slow as he could.

“We’re dead. We’re so dead. We’re going to spend the next decade in the Fenton Stockades,” he groaned. “We’re so dead! We’ll never see the light of day! Hold still you stupid bucket of bolts! Goodbye cruel world! Wait, why are we transformed? Val’s father walked in on us making out. Sucks to suck. Can we get a hand?” He checked his watch and shrugged, turning towards where Sam was fighting Technus at the boardwalk. “Sure, we’re dead as soon as we get home and Mom and Dad won’t be expecting us back for another half hour since they think we’d have to take the bus. Great, because he’s getting on our nerves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m grounded for two weeks, Danny said. And I had to sit through mom giving me The Talk again.

Sounds like it sucks to be allo. Can’t relate, Sam said, setting aside the book she’d been reading and grabbing another.

And Jazz came in looking all stern to say that when she told us to spend the weekend having fun, she hadn’t meant that much fun.

Sam snorted.

We didn’t even do anything!

She looked over the passage on Chronos she’d found, but it didn’t have any new information.

Val texted to say her dad’s taking her phone. She’s grounded for a month and her dad’s taking her suit and all her gear.

Sam tossed the book aside. Wait, her dad found out?

We’d just gotten to her house so she was in her suit when he walked in.

She was in the suit when you guys were making out? Tucker interjected out of nowhere. Wait, is the suit kink a Fenton thing? Is that why -

Finish that thought and I’ll toss your laptop into the ghost zone, Danny hissed. Crud, Jazz just came in. She’s making me study with her to make sure I’m not talking to you guys. Talk later.

Bye Danny.

See you, Sam said and stood up. She grabbed the books she’d gathered and went to put them back on the shelves. So you’re done hanging out with Kiran then?

Camp’s over for the day, but we’re going to hang out again tomorrow, Tucker said. What are you up to?

Checking out the paranormal section at Skulk and Lurk. I was hoping they’d have some information on our clock ghost.

Aren’t we supposed to be avoiding ghosts?

Jazz isn’t the boss of me.

True. Want some help?

Are you dressed like your usual self?

Yes?

Pass.

Rude.

I love you, but I will not get kicked out of my favorite bookshop because you’ve decided your aesthetic is traffic light.

Aw, I love you too! Tucker cooed.

Tuning you out now.

Okay, bye, Sammy! Love you!

Sam made a gagging sound in her head as she started looking for new books to check. “Aren’t there any books in here about real ghosts?”

“Try the historical fantasy section.”

She looked over to see Ravage reading the description of a book. “What?”

“The historical fantasy section,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly to the side. “Found a book over there the other day that was about a ghost king. Sounded just like the real dude. The author seemed to understand death and ghosts better than most. Bit too cheerful, but it was an interesting read if you can push past it.”

“Do you remember the author?” Sam asked.

“Worth, or something. The book was King’s Coffin if that helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever. You coming to poetry night?”

“If I can get away from my parents.”

“Good luck.”

“Whatever.”

She went over to the section and found the book Ravage had mentioned alongside a few others written by Regsit Worth: Acropolis of Elysium, Nocturnus, Dark Winds, and Carnivorous Garden.

She pulled King’s Coffin off and glanced over the description before flipping through the book. She skimmed through it and her eyes widened at the ghost’s description and the description of his downfall. She checked the Also By section and smirked when she saw a book titled Shadows of Time. She put Pariah's book back then grabbed the garden book and headed to the counter.

“Would you be able to order a book by this author?” she asked as the cashier rang her up.

The man shrugged and switched to a different register. He asked for the title and typed it in when she answered. “Another print isn’t due for a year or so, but our sister store in San Francisco has a few copies. I can have them send one over, but you’d have to pay shipping upfront.”

“That’s fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I think Jazz was onto something about having some weekends to ourselves,” Tucker said when they met up Monday morning. “I had fun at the camp and made great headway with Kiran. Trust me, we’ll be dating by Christmas.”

“Sure you will,” Sam teased. “I’ll admit, though, it wasn’t awful. I got this new book on a wicked plant monster ghost that could actually exist and I might have gotten a lead on our clock ghost. I won’t know until Thursday.”

“Glad you two had fun,” Danny pouted, his forehead pressed against his locker. “Val’s dad threatened to shoot me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can just phase through the bullet,” Tucker said, patting his back.

“He has ghost weapons now.”

“You right.”

“You could try not sneaking into girls’ bedrooms,” Sam suggested and Danny flushed.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Hey, Danny.”

The trio turned to see Valerie walking up.

“Hey, Val. Sorry about Saturday.”

“Not your fault,” she sighed and hugged him. “We both didn’t think that through.”

“You didn’t get into too much trouble, right?”

“Just grounded like I said. I’m mostly just mad about my gear. Dad’s taking the suit into the lab and he’s going to give all the rest to your parents. I told him I didn’t get most of it from you, but I don’t know if he believed me.”

“Better them then Vlad,” Danny said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get any of it back for you, though. They’ll probably be keeping better track of their gear after your dad talks to them.”

Which means it’s going to be hard to replace their thermoses if one gets damaged, great.

“That’s alright. My dad will be keeping an eye out now anyways.” She pulled back. “I should get going before I’m late.”

“Alright, see you at lunch.”

{The Fenton Menace}

Danny sighed as he scrubbed the lab’s counter. “Can’t I do this later?”

“It’s not as if you have anything else to do,” his mom said pointedly.

Maybe so, he thought, eyeing the gun his parents were working on. But I’d rather not get vaporized when that thing accidentally goes off.

When, not if. Danny knew his parents too well for that.

He went back to his scrubbing and his mom focused back on the gun.

A few moments later, Danny’s breath fogged in front of him and his eyes darted to the portal as a pirate kid and his skeleton parrot flew out and up through the ceiling.

Captain Kid is back, he told his partners. My parents are keeping on top of me so I can’t deal with him.

Headed your way, Tucker said.

I’ll come too. Mom’s trying to drag me to the hairdresser.

Have fun. Danny flinched as the gun went off, thankfully pointed away from him. “Can you guys work on something else while I’m down here, please?”

His dad pouted, but his mom put the gun away with a nod, frowning at the blast mark it had left.

[stonefreeak]

Sorry it’s taken me so long! Life, amirite?

In some ways, Quinlan is almost fucking impressed by how good La is at not admitting to anything at all. He knows that Hissleet Endai is an assassins' guild, he knows that La no doubt knows a lot of their targets... But she's also keeping mum so hard that Quinlan can't use her knowledge to narrow down the possible culprits.

It really would be impressive if it wasn't so fucking frustrating.

So. He's gonna need a plan B.

He discussed the scene with the other Jedi when they arrived and compared notes regarding what they'd discovered at the scene of the bombing... But they also concluded that it's probably for the best if Quinlan takes a trip there himself too.

He's felt the Sith Lord so clearly it nearly choked him. If there are any hints of him anywhere near that office, Quinlan will find them.

"Well, La. For all that you're helpful you're supremely unhelpful."

She rolls her eyes and gives him a wry smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Van."

Quinlan rolls his eyes right back at her and shakes his head.

"Nevermind." He rolls his shoulders. "Grab your identifier, we're going to visit the Senate and the Senate Office Building and if we run into the Sith Lord, I don't plan on missing it."

La snorts loudly. "And how are you expecting to get me inside without anyone getting suspicious? Or can Jedi just walk around the Senate Office Building with anyone they want?"

Quinlan gives her a sharp grin. "Not hardly. But—!" No doubt are his teeth glittering in the lamp light—"I've got a plan."

He watches with much amusement as La's face twists from confusion to horror as he holds up some regular Jedi robes he borrowed from the Temple.

This'll be easy.

~~~~

"I'm genuinely surprised that these clothes are comfortable," La says under her breath as they head towards the main Senate building.

Quinlan snorts. "They're not expensive and generally of simple make—it's not like we need anything more—but they're also meant for us to wear in our daily lives or on missions. Of course they're comfortable. You don’t want to get distracted by a wedgie on a mission."

He pauses and rolls his eyes and continues before La can say anything else. "Except for those few weirdos who think the clothes ought to itch and that it'll lead to a better understanding of the Force. But they're few and far in between, and honestly I think they just like being miserable."

La chokes on a laugh, and in the corner of his eye, Quinlan can see her struggling to keep her expression calm and collected.

He grins; he knows he's funny.

Not to mention that it's easier now to crack jokes, now that he knows that Obi-Wan is fine. That he has recovered.

It's easier to deal with your emotions and let them go when everything is alright. It's always a struggle to handle your inner turmoil when the cause of it is still ongoing. Not that Quinlan lets himself dwell on that stuff too much. Sometimes you just need to relax and let things come as they will. Still, he's seen the struggle, he's heard about it...

He feels the pull sometimes, as everyone does, but he tries to keep himself and his emotions fairly laid back. Take things as they come, things'll work out one way or another, and if they don't then they probably weren't meant to. That, or he did his best and it just wasn't enough this time. That does happen, even though it sucks a lot when it does.

Sometimes you do your very best, and without a single mistake, you still fail. Doing, after all, is outside of its outcome. Doing does not mean certainty regarding succeeding or failing. Trying, however, saves the ego. If you fail when you “tried” then it’s okay, because you hadn’t really committed to it anyway, you were just trying, not doing.

Do or do not, there is no try, indeed.

Quinlan shakes himself. Now’s not the time to get philosophical and ruminate on Master Yoda’s words of wisdom; he’s got a job to do.

"So, got the scanner ready?"

La nods. "I've got it."

Quinlan grins and leads the way inside. He doesn't hang out in the Senate a lot—it's not his scene, he's a tracker and infiltrator, not really a diplomat—but he does know the basic rules for how to behave yourself. He's not sure about La, but she's probably trained to fade into the background wherever she is, so he's not that worried about her making a fool of herself.

If they're lucky, they might actually stumble upon the Sith Lord without him noticing and then they can get everyone else involved and get rid of most of the Sith problems they're having. Catching the Sith Lord won't stop Dooku, but they can probably deal with that at a later date. Killing the snake cradled to their breast is more important than killing the snake a few metres away in the sand.

Time to do this thing.

~~~~

"Well. I don't want to say it's a waste of time..." La looks exhausted, and Quinlan can feel echoes of frustration from her in the Force.

He shrugs. "The Senate is huge. We've at least managed to rule out the Senators who took part in today's session, all we need now is to get the participation protocol and get them crossed off our list of suspects."

"But that's just the Senators! All of them have staff as well!" La's face twists and her canines become visible as she curls her lips in anger.

Quinlan just shrugs again. "If you thought this would be easy, sorry to disappoint you."

She lets out a huge sigh and her shoulders relax somewhat. Seeing that she's calmed down somewhat, Quinlan nods to himself.

"Well, time to head over to the Senate Office Building and take a look at the other crime scene." He rolls his shoulders. "I might be able to pick something up when we're there. Not necessarily, but maybe."

The reconstructions of the building are going well, though the epicentre of the blast is still kept in its destroyed state for the time being. But most of the building is back to being used.

Huh, maybe he can check in on and annoy Kenobi for a bit. That'd do wonders for his nerves.

Grinning to himself Quinlan sets off, La hot on his heels.

Sooner or later they'll find what they need, one way or another. They can't be sure that the solution will be easy and straightforward, life rarely is, but sometimes a surprising twist adds a little flavour to life.

It's like the food in the Temple. There's a huge variety in foods you can get, or you can get the bland highly nutritious but super boring fare that's designed to keep dietary restrictions and allergies in mind. A lot of the time that's good and fine, but sometimes you just really want some good Gardeenian sweat spices on your food and spend the rest of the evening sweating like a furnace from the heat of it all.

So.

Investigation first and then he can bother Obi-Wan.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[langstforthesoul]

Happiest Year (Kangst + Hurt/Comfort, Character Injury, Klance)

A/N: So I’m gonna try a different writing style then What I’ve been doing, let me know if you prefer this or the other style. More notes are going to be at the end of this too so stay tuned!

They were in the middle of battle, the others were yelling over the comms while Shiro barked orders out over them the best he could but no one could understand over the panic. The only reason they were panicking was that their sharpshooter, their lover boy, Their Rock/Glue of the team was injured and the wound seemed worse than what they all initially thought.

“Guys I might be on the ropes this time,” the brunette rasped, his breathing coming out wheezy and in a short puff. “And I want you guys that I’ve been fighting this war for you, so you guys can go home too…” Keith, who was holding Lance tight in his arms, began to shake his eyes filled with unshod tears. “Baby, quit talking like you’re going to die! You’re not leaving us!” A single tear slipped down his dirtied cheek, leaving a clean streak of clear skin in its wake. “You can’t leave me..!” Hunk and the others were fighting Galra soldiers and sentries, trying to make a path so Keith could carry Lance to Red to try and get him back to the Castle ship and into an awaiting healing pod Coran had set up. “Keith-“ “You should never have to say goodbye!” Keith yelled over the fighting, leaning Lance against his body so he could use his cannon to help clear the path faster. “Maybe that's just what stupid people do, buddy..” Lance tried to joke, letting out a pained chuckle. “Hang in there, Hermano! We’ll get you into that Healing pod, so please..” Hunk called from where he was, Shooting sentries one after the next. “Please just hang on!” His cries sounded a mixture of pure desperation but determined, he attacked the next sentry that came after him with a look of such Rage it scared Lance a little. When the path was clear enough, Keith Picked Lance up once again, jostling his wound to the point where he cried out in an agonized scream. He gave the Cuban an apologetic look before sprinting across the battlefield and into red. Keith turned on the comms channel and he saw a panicked-looking Coran. “Is the pod ready, cause he has to get in there as soon as we land Coran,” Keith said, already having red fly off the planet they had landed on for this mission. “It is ready and waiting! How is he?” The boy in question groaned, looking paler by the second as the blood from the wound in his chest continued to flow. “Doing great, Coran-“ He tried to say but ended up coughing in the end, blood slipping from his lips. “We’re almost there, just hold on Baby!” Keith yelled, seeing Lance’s eyes flutter shut. “Keep your eyes open Lance, stay awake! You have to stay awake!” Lance let out another pained groan, squinting his eyes open once more and giving his lover a soft smile. “Y’know…” he sucked in a sharp breath. “You gave me peace, and I think I might have wasted it…” The look that adorned Lance's face was filled with love but scrunched up in pain when red jostled a bit. “You know this is hard to admit, but Keith you were my medicine.” His eyes started to flood with the tears he had been trying to hold in the whole time, beginning to tremble in pain. “I don’t wanna die Keith…” He mumbled, feeling himself grow weaker as the tears streamed down his face like a slow-flowing river. “And you won’t, I won’t let you.” Keith, trying to stay strong for Lance, pushed red to fly faster seeing the Castle ship just mere meters away. “We’re almost there Lance!”

As soon as Keith landed red into the ship's hangar, he ran down her ramp and out with Lance unconscious in his arms. Coran was waiting just outside, running after the red paladin, his eyebrows creased and worry lines showing. “Quickly, we don’t have time to take off his armor to put him in a suit!” He said, going directly to the controls to quickly type in the info the machine needed. Keith gently placed Lance into the healing pod, watching it close and fog over. He released the breath he had been holding in since he got out of red, collapsing onto his knees in front of the pod. His body began to tremble from the overexertion, tears slipping from his eyes as he stared down at his hands covered in Lance’s blood. He tried to wipe it on his armor, letting out a choked sob. Coran stepped forward, kneeling next to the younger and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Keith-“ “Coran please, I’m down on my knees again! I’m asking,” His head whipped up to give the older man a look of pure despair. “Is he going to make it?” His voice cracked, thick with the tears that still fell vigorously. Coran what at a loss of words, he looked up at Lance who’s face looked eerily peaceful. “He will be…” He turned back to face the ravenette, his eyes sad but filled with hope. “Now, let's get you cleaned up yeah? The others will be back soon and they shouldn’t see you like this.” He chirped, though it was faked for Keith’s sake. The ladder shook his head, he wanted to stay with his lover but paused, looking back down at himself. “Ok..” he mumbled, standing with the help of The older Altean.

Time Skip (Everyone is back from the Fighting and it's at least 2-3 days later):

Keith, now in a clean set of clothes and holding Lance’s hoodie close to his chest, sat in the med-bay next to the pod. The others came in to check on him a few times, Shiro even tried to get him to go and get some rest in his and Lance’s shared room but… “Lance, please come back to me…” He mumbled, burying his face into the fabric and letting out a shaky breath. He looked back up and moved to sit in front of the healing pod, studying Lance’s face, his figure, the way the blood on his armor was a darker shade of red morphing into brown. “You know I never really thanked you,” He ran a hand through his hair. “So I guess Thank you for the happiest year of my life…” He let out a sad chuckle, tears flooding his eyes when he looked back up at the pod with his vision now blurry. “Thank you for the happiest year of my life, Lance.” His chuckle turned into a sob, his hold on his lover's jacket tightening as he shook. “I don’t think I could forgive myself, I’m so sorry for the ways I couldn’t protect you.”

Flashback (Before the battle started.)

Everyone landed onto the planet's surface, scanning to see where exactly the distress signal was coming from. “Are you sure a distress signal came from here, Pidge?” Shiro asked, exiting his lion and looking around the surrounding area. Judging from the information, or what little they had in the castle, the planet they were on was occupied by Nomadic people who were anything but violent. “For the thousandth time, yes I’m Sure oh captain my captain,” Pidge said, their voice filled with sarcasm towards the end of the sentence. That got a chuckle from Lance as he exited his lion, making sure to keep an eye out for any enemy soldiers or hostile movement. “C’mon Pidgeon, he’s just making sure in case this could be a trap.” Lance chirped, trying to keep the mood light and aloof. Keith came out of his lion cautiously, getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. “Something seems off here..” He muttered, walking up to stand next to Lance and staying on guard. “I know, shouldn’t there be people here..” Lance mumbled under his breath, grabbing his bayard. “Exactly, stay on guard sharpshooter..” “You to samurai..”

“If you two are done being lovey-dovey, we have a mission to get done,” Pidge said from their lion, pushing up their glasses as they look at their scanner one more time. Their face morphed into pure confusion while quickly looking up and around. “What the hell..?” The muttered, looking back down at their scanner. “What’s wrong?” Hunk said, moving over to stand next to them. “This doesn’t make any sense, there should be people here! Even the heat scanner…” Their eyes widen with realization, their head jerking up to look at Shiro. Shiro’s made a grim face before shouting. “Get back in your lions-“ But they were too late, they were all surprised attacked by Galaran soldiers all racing forward with war cries that could shake your very core. Lance pulled out his bayard to give Keith cover as the Ladder ran forward with Shiro and Pidge. The strategy was simple enough, close-range weapons go first while the long-range cover them. That should’ve been how it went… Until Hunk was about to get stabbed from behind but a Galran general sneaking up on the Yellow Paladin. Lance noticed him just as he was going for it and jumped in to take the hit. “¡Dios, Mierda! That Hurts!” Lance yelled, causing the others to whip around only to see their blue paladin impaled by a sword. “Lance!” They all shouted in unison, hunk shooting the general and the sentries approaching. “I’m fine! Focus on your opponents!” He yelled back, shooting any enemy soldiers that came near Keith and Pidge. “We don't need any more injuries, besides it's just a scratch!” He joked, biting down a cry of pain. The others begrudgingly went back to fighting but Keith went to Lance’s side immediately, now having a closer look at the injury that's befallen his lover. “Lance that isn’t a minor injury-“ “I know, but it’s the least of our worries right now!” He growled, his knees giving way but he played it off by pretending to kneel to get a better shot of the never-ending hoard of sentries. “And honestly I could care less right now! Besides, they could hurt you pretty good too if you don't start paying attention, Samurai..” Keith shook his head, and kneeled next to the other, clicking his tongue at the sight of the blood that was oozing out. The Cuban though, his vision filling with black spots, felt his grip loosening on his bayard. “Ok maybe it’s worse than a scratch-“ He mumbled, collapsing against Keith’s chest.

Back to the Present:

Keith winced at the memory, letting out a shaky breath as he curled in on himself. “Yeah, they had made you bleed,” his hands clenched into tight fists. “And we tasted it.” He looked up at the pod once more, his tears long since dried but the feeling of guilt still ever-present in his mind. “I’m here to admit, Lance…” He stood up from his spot, still holding his lover's jacket in his arms as he walked forward placing his palm flat on the healing pod. “That you were my medicine... Oh, love, I couldn’t quit,” He slid down to the floor on his knees, just as he did when they first put Lance into the pod. “And I’m down on my knees again! Lance please…!”

Flashback:

Lance and Keith were cuddled up in their shared room, laying there in silence until Lance spoke. “You know I really should say Thank you.” He spoke softly, trying to keep the mood soft. Keith looked down at the Cuban laying on his chest with a confused look. “What for?” He asked, trying to remember if he had done anything to warrant gratitude. “For giving me the happiest year of my life..” The other mumbled into the Ravenettes chest, holding a fist full of the man's v5 sweater in a tight grip. Keith froze, he hadn’t exactly expected that from Lance, even though the ladder was a huge sap. “Lance-“ Lance sat up on his elbow and looked at Keith with an adoring look. “Thank you for the happiest year of my life..”

Back to the Present (Again):

Keith smiled to himself, the memory leaving a warm feeling in his heart. His eyes began to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up with him as he leaned against the pod. “Wake me up when they build a time machine, I wanna go back..” He mumbled, his voice sounding thoughtful. “Maybe I could have protected you from getting hurt like that..” His eyes soon shut but sleep was still a bit away from his grasp. “Wake me up when I have you sleeping next to me..” he wrapped Lance’s jacket over him, using it as a blanket somewhat. “Cause I really love you…”

Keith jerked up as soon as he heard the pod door hiss open, frantically getting to his feet to catch Lance as he fell out. “Lance! Baby!” He said, pulling back to look at his lover's face, sleepy-looking as it may be. “Keith..?” The Cuban mumbled confused, recognition soon reaching his eyes as they widened. “What happened? Is everyone ok? How long have I been in the pod? Why do you look so exhausted?” One question shot of Lance’s mouth after the other but Keith could only stare. He couldn’t believe it, Lance was more worried about others rather than himself. His eyes filled with tears once more, pulling the other into a tight embrace. “You almost died and you're worried about everyone else?! Lance I-“ he released a choked sob. “I c-could have l-lost you forever!” That's when Lance felt his heart shatter, that exact moment, as he wrapped his arms around the trembling man he loved. “Hey, I’m ok now though. Everything’s ok, mi amor! I would never leave you! Not ever-“ “You nearly DID THOUGH!” Keith shouted, his voice cracking as another sob wracked through him. “And I never got to say Thank you for giving me the happiest year of my life or that I loved you or-Or-“ He grabbed the back of Lance’s armor, the dried blood flaking off as he held him. “I-I love you too but Keith you need to breathe for me,” he rubbed Keith’s back soothingly, trying to keep his voice even and soothing. “You’re starting to hyperventilate, sweetheart.” Keith shook in his arms, taking deep breaths as he started to calm down while listening to lance.

After a few minutes of calming down and holding each other’s, Keith looked at Lance and planted a soft kiss on his lips before quickly pulling away. “I love you…” He mumbled, meeting the other's eyes. “I love you too, but can I go shower and change, I don't think it would be comfortable for either of us if I cuddle you with my armor on.” That drew a chuckle out of Keith as he pulled away from Lance, gently grabbing his hand to drag him out of the med-bay. “Let's go, Sharpshooter, we can take a quick shower together and then go get some rest.”

A/n: ANd with that it OVER, this took at least 3 ½ hours to write but it’s worth it honestly I’m proud of this! I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to point out any mistakes you see, and if you see a way I could Improve my writing just let me know! I hope you all have an amazing day/morning/evening/night and please stay safe out there!

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 13

We’ve got another POV change today, this time to Lance! Gotta give not only my semi-regular shout out to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays for providing inspiration, but also a special shout out to the mod @the-wandering-whumper since they have declared two different tropes used here to be “their jam”. ;) Don’t expect the chemical pneumonia part of this to be medically accurate haha. This is called science fiction for a reason.

Day 13 - Chemical Pneumonia/Oxygen Mask

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: death mention, respiratory distress, needles

The Yadselites were brilliant scientists. Pidge and Hunk had been in their element all day, oohing and aahing and making googoo eyes over all the equipment and experiments they were being shown.

Lance? He was the opposite of in his element. Sure, some of that stuff was pretty interesting, once someone, anyone, bothered to explain to him in plain English what the heck they even did. But most of the day had been a whole lot of science-speak that he only understood every five words of, and he had zoned out so many times that he was about to fall asleep.

“So, it’s a gas that does...what exactly?” Shiro asked. At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t get the techno-babble speak. 

Pidge pushed her glasses back up on her nose with one finger. “It incapacitates the Galra. Basically it’s like throwing in a smoke bomb before the SWAT team goes in.”

“Yeah but this doesn’t just make their eyes water,” Hunk added. “Sounds like by the time you got in there every Galra would just be lying on the floor.”

“Dead?” Shiro sounded a mix of fascinated and horrified.

“No, no,” their tour guide, Rokuba, assured in that perpetual soothing tone that was part of the reason why Lance was falling asleep. “Only, as your Green Paladin says, incapacitated.”

“So it would, like, do our work for us? I’m okay with that.” It wasn’t like he minded how difficult his job was. He just wouldn’t mind if it was a little less difficult. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Keith had taken a few steps backwards away from the group. Oh. Right. Galra-incapacitating gas, half-Galra Mullet. He’d probably be a little nervous, too, if it were him.

“Is it safe for other species...humans, for example?”

“Oh yes, very,” Rokuda smiled. “The gas targets a very specific combination of genes that are only found in Galran DNA. For humans, Yadselites, and all other species, there is only a light, sweet smell.” She reached for the canister. “If you will allow me to demonstrate…”

Before Lance - or apparently anyone else - could even think to protest, a flowery-smelling mist erupted into the air. Shiro and Hunk both shouted and lunged for the canister. Lance spun around to face Keith, who had clapped a hand over his nose and mouth and was staring at the gas in wide-eyed panic.

Then Pidge was bodily shoving him out of the lab, everyone following close behind while Rokuda stammered out multiple apologies. Ignoring her, Shiro shoved his way forward and clapped his hands onto Keith’s shoulders. 

“Keith! Keith, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Keith coughed. 

But it wasn’t, like, a terrible sounding cough. Just pretty much your typical “I have a tickle in my throat” cough, not one that seemed like he was about to keel over and die. 

Slowly, he lowered his hand, swallowing visibly. “I...I definitely inhaled some. But...I think I’m okay?”

They all let out a collective sigh of relief, despite the fact that he didn’t sound all that sure. He wasn’t choking or falling over, so that was as good of a sign as any. 

“Dude,” Hunk groaned. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Keith’s nose wrinkled and he looked as if he was about to protest that it wasn’t his fault, but Pidge interrupted. “Either you didn’t inhale enough to do any damage, or you don’t carry all of the right genes for it to affect you.”

“It could be either,” Rokuda offered. “We have not yet tested the effects of a minuscule amount, or on any species mixed with Galra. Again, I apologize greatly, your heritage momentarily slipped my mind.”

Shiro gave her a tight smile. “Well, he seems to be alright, so that’s what matters.”

The tour continued. Vargas passed, or at least it felt that long. By the time they finally, finally got back to the Castle, Lance had completely forgotten about the incident with the gas. 

Everyone gathered at the bridge so that Allura could lecture...ahem, brief them on the diplomatic meeting they’d be having the next day. Lance and Keith were standing side by side, the former tapping his foot rapidly, about to have a nervous breakdown if the Mullet cleared his throat one more time.

And of course, he did.

“Dude!” Lance exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Stop it with the throat clearing already! What is your problem?”

Keith’s eyebrows knitted together, and he raised one hand to his neck. “Sorry. My throat is just…” He covered his mouth with his jacket sleeve and coughed. 

“Our briefing is almost done, and then perhaps you should drink a hydration pouch,” Allura suggested. “However, it will be much easier for me to finish if there are no more interruptions.”

“Sorry,” both boys mumbled in unison.

They fell quiet as Allura resumed, not even any more throat clearing from Keith, though it kinda sounded like he was having to try really hard not to. The breaths he was pulling through his nose were loud and extremely deliberate. Lance was torn between still being annoyed and starting to be concerned, but leaned definitively more toward concerned once his breathing began to stutter both in and out.

Shooting glances out of the corner of his eye, Lance pressed his lips together and wondered if Keith was somehow even paler than usual. There was a strained look on his face, and Lance was debating whether or not he should interrupt again to ask if he was okay when Keith lost his battle to hold everything in and burst into a coughing fit.

The rest of the room fell silent as he doubled over, sounding like he was about to hack up a lung into his sleeve. Shiro crossed to him and rested a hand on his upper back.

“You okay, bud?”

Keith nodded through the last of the coughs, then straightened and swiped his hand across his eyes. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Sorry. ‘m fine.” He sucked in another labored breath, and coughed once more.

Coran edged his way toward the door. “Perhaps I should go get you that hydration pouch now.”

“Yes, please,” Shiro answered for him. 

“Sorry, ‘llura. You can -” Keith tried to draw another breath, but it seemed to get stuck in his throat and sent him into another coughing fit.

“Would you quit trying to talk?” Lance protested. “You’re clearly not okay right now.”

“‘m fine,” he whispered, but then his eyes went wide and he froze, his mouth hanging open as if to gasp in more air but the sound of his heavy breaths had completely stopped.

“Keith? Keith!” Shiro shook his shoulder. “Hey, look at me, what’s going on?”

Without further warning, Keith listed to the side, stumbling a few steps until he was falling practically into Lance’s arms. He scrambled to catch him before he slammed into the ground, though they both went down in the process.

“What the heck, Mullet?” Lance would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared. Keith’s head was laying on his shoulder, the rest of his body sprawled out inelegantly in his lap, and his eyes and mouth were still open wide. This close he could just barely make out a faint gurgling noise coming from the back of his throat. 

Lance snapped his attention up to Shiro, who was crouched next to them. “He’s not breathing. Shiro, he’s not breathing!”

Their leader bent over with his ear next to Keith’s face, then suddenly scooped him up off of Lance, standing and immediately breaking into a run. The others followed, looking just as alarmed as Lance felt. 

“What’s going on?” Allura demanded.

“I don’t know,” Lance replied, “but he needs the infirmary, now. Page Coran!”

He was close on Shiro’s heels when they entered the infirmary and Keith was dropped down onto a cot. His lips had taken on a blue tint, and he was definitely paler than usual this time. Hovering over him, Lance waved his hands around frantically, desperate for something to do to help but unable to think anything past, he’s not breathing he’s not breathing he’s not breathing.

“Here!” Pidge launched herself into his field of vision with something in her hands that she slapped down over Keith’s nose and mouth. An oxygen mask. Lance felt an inkling of relief at seeing the device, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear.

“His throat, though. His throat was...if it was closed up, then he still won’t -”

“I know.” Shiro’s voice was terse, all his attention focused on the boy who might as well be his brother. He stroked his human hand through Keith’s messy black hair, pressing his bangs back from his forehead. “I know. But I don’t...we need Coran in here.”

“He’s on his way,” Allura assured.

“I’m here!” The advisor burst into the room with all his usual gusto, and Lance felt his chest loosen the tiniest bit. Immediately snatching up the scanner, Coran frowned and mumbled to himself as he waved it over Keith’s prone body. After examining the screen for only a tick, he spun around and pointed at a cabinet against the far wall. “Number Five, I need an injection of stavunairalducord!”

As the only one of the humans who could read Altean, Pidge accepted her assignment right away and dashed to the cabinet, rummaging until she found the correct item and bringing it back to Coran just as quickly.

“Thank you, Number Five.” Twirling the needle around in nimble fingers, he popped off the cap and plunged it none too gently into the side of Keith’s neck. Lance flinched and cut his eyes away.

“What is that? What are you doing?” Shiro demanded.

“Number Four has extreme swelling in his throat and lungs, preventing air from passing through. This injection will begin to take the swelling down while we prep him to go into the healing pod.”

Sure enough, as Lance watched, Keith’s chest began rising and falling again, almost imperceptibly. Behind the oxygen mask his mouth relaxed, and his eyes fluttered shut as if in pure joy of being able to breathe. Shiro slumped a bit when he saw the reaction, though his hand never stopped carding through the black hair.

“What does he need the pod for?” Hunk asked, wringing his hands together.

Coran was already methodically beginning to remove Keith’s jacket and gloves. “To clear out the foreign substance that caused this reaction, and also to heal the damage that it caused. Whatever it is, it seems to have started eating away at the lining of his lungs.”

“Foreign substance?” Lance echoed.

Pidge gasped. “The Yadselites’ gas! You know, the...anti-Galra stuff!”

Groaning, Shiro dropped his forehead into his hand. “How could I have forgotten? But I never expected it to take this long to have an effect. I should have brought him back to get checked out right away.”

“He seemed fine, though,” Pidge offered. “It must have something to do with him only being half, or because it was just a tiny amount.”

Coran hummed. “Well, whichever it is, it’s a nasty little bugger. I’d hate to see what would have happened if he had inhaled any more.”

“Is he...gonna be okay?”

Lance had been almost certain that Keith had lost consciousness by that point, but his eyes slitted open then and found Lance’s. His hand twitched, and Lance glanced down to see him giving a weak thumbs up.

Coran chuckled. “Yes, I think he’ll be just fine. That is, if we get him into that pod as soon as we can, so let’s give him some privacy to get changed, shall we?”

Hunk ushered everyone out of the room, eager to let Keith start healing. Lance kept looking back over his shoulder at the pale, still figure on the bed. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be relaxing at all until the Mullet was up on his feet and throwing jabs at him again. The feeling of him collapsing into his arms and the sound of his struggles to breathe would be sticking with him for a long time to come.

[cagestark]

A Hole in the Head//2

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight 

Everybody was so kind to me last night. Here’s a thanks <3

Read here on AO3.

-

The next morning finds Peter lounging in bed. When he stretches and twists against the silken sheets, his ass smarts from the sound spanking Tony gave it the night before. His morning wood aches at the reminder. After his punishment, Tony had rolled on a condom and fucked Peter on his hands and knees, the backs of his thighs giving his sore ass a pounding. He’d made Peter cum from his cock alone and then pulled out, shed the condom, and demanded that Peter suck him off. This cock just made you cum, baby, he’d said, fingers tangled in Peter’s hair. Treat it real good. Thank it, thank me.

The bedroom door opens. Peter sits up, breathless at the sight of Tony’s figure in the doorway.

“Thank God you’re here, sir,” Peter says. “I really don’t think I showed your cock enough gratitude last night.”

Tony steps into the room and Barnes appears following behind him. 

Peter’s mouth goes dry. God, in the afternoon light that streams through the window, Barnes is even more handsome than the dining room chandelier had made him out to be. His jaw is sharp and shadowed, lips full and downturned. The low brow disguises pale eyes and gives the impression that Barnes is always one disappointment away from murder. Nothing turns Peter on more. 

“Oh,” Peter breathes, putting a hand against his bare chest in the semblance of modest astonishment. “Two gifts? I get two cocks to worship?” 

Tony’s mouth has to work hard to keep its flat, unimpressed line. Barnes gives no outward reaction—a tough nut to crack, but Peter knows that the harder the work, the larger the payoff. “No gifts, Peter. You can show my cock gratitude later, though I doubt you’ll still feel moved to. I’m showing Barnes the panic room in the closet. You know it’s noon, don’t you? You shouldn’t lay in bed all day, pumpkin.” 

Without any further acknowledgement of Peter’s existence, Tony ushers Barnes into the large walk-in closet. 

Sighing, Peter slips from the bed, arching his back and stretching again just for the pleasant ache. He grabs fresh boxers to don after he showers and then takes up residence in the in-closet doorway, watching the two men. The panic room door is in the south wall, hidden by a line of Tony’s suits which have been pushed aside.

“Are we resetting the access code, sir?” Peter asks. 

Both men turn. Tony, used to seeing Peter in various states of undress, is more than likely just pleased he isn’t naked and doesn’t bat an eye. Barnes however is not used to it. Those stony eyes drag from Peter’s bruise-ridden collar bone down over his trim chest and abs, catching on the tent in Peter’s boxers (and yeah, it jerks just under the weight of that cold gaze) before following the line of his legs all the way down to the bare feet, toenails shiny with polish. 

Barnes takes it all in—and then he looks back at the panic room door and his eyes don’t touch Peter again. 

“Yes,” Tony answers Peter’s question. “We’re going to set it to something easy for Barnes to remember—” 

“It’s not my panic room,” Barnes interrupts, voice raspy. “If anyone is going to forget, I’d rather it be me instead of you or the kid. Just leave the code as it is, Mr. Stark; I’ll remember it.” 

Tony’s eyebrows lift above the rim of his tinted glasses. 

A complicated man, it’s a fine line between the authority that Tony’s likes having challenged and the kind that is likely to get a man in trouble. In his subordinates, he requires obedience (with only certain exceptions for creative flare). In his lovers, Tony loves the struggle. The intellectual challenge that comes with banter, the power-struggle of dominating a partner who doesn’t bend easily, the joy of breaking a brat. It’s one reason why Peter and Tony are so sexually compatible—both their needs are met in the other. But Barnes, Peter wonders, holding his breath. What kind of challenge is he presenting to Tony?

After a moment that likely only lasts a few heartbeats, Tony’s head tilts in concession. He brushes onwards so seamlessly that Peter doesn’t even get the chance to analyze what it all means. “If you insist. 774337 opens the door. It locks from the inside automatically upon being closed, and there is a mandatory twelve hour waiting period before the door will open. The only override requires both my thumbprint and Peter’s, so don’t go in there for shits and giggles unless you enjoy solitude.”

“Will that override work if you’re dead?” Barnes wonders. 

“Yes. The scanner isn’t picky about if the thumb is attached to a living person, nor if it comes from the left or right hand. It has prints for both. Should I be killed, feel free to exhume them; they won’t be doing me any good.” 

Feeling sick, Peter storms into the closet and rifles for the first set of clothes he can find. “I don’t want to listen to this,” he says around the knot in his throat. “Ned’s out of school, so I’ll be in the entertainment room.” 

“Okay—hey. Come here.” Peter reluctantly lets himself be pulled into Tony’s arms. They hug, not a hairsbreadth between them, Peter breathing in the scent of cologne. If he shuts his eyes, he can see Tony collapsed on the floor beside their bed, his blood black in the moonlight, chest open and wet and gaping. Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter tries to think of something else. But Tony knows. He always knows. “It’s okay, Pete. Barnes is here to keep the both of us safe. But you’re the priority.” 

“I don’t have to like it, sir,” Peter snarks. 

Tony tilts his chin up for a peck. Peter’s eyes open to see Barnes standing by the panic room door and yes, he’s watching them. Closing his eyes, Peter threads his fingers through the hairs on the nape of Tony’s neck and goes up onto his toes to keep their mouths connected, spreading his lips and coaxing Tony’s tongue from his mouth to suck on it, feeling the older man’s groan reverberate through his chest. When they part, the both of them are breathing hard. 

Barnes is taking slow, even breaths. Three counts in, four counts out. He’s leaning back against the panic room door watching Peter with a flat, unimpressed look. Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Tony, he’s even more boring than Steve,” Peter complains to his lover in a stage whisper. 

-

“—what do you mean she just wants to—Ned, on your right, coming up the- oh, nice shot—just wants to be friends? She was the one asking you for dick pics. Am I missing something?” Peter says into the comm of his headset. He sits cross-legged on the floor, back pressed against the sofa. “Are friends swapping nudes now?” 

“Not my friends!” Ned insists, voice tinny from the cheap headset he uses. Peter has offered to buy him one multiple times, but Ned insists that the old one is well broken in. Junky, Peter thinks. “I told her I wanted to take it slow—nice, good game, bro—but I didn’t mean this. This is like, all slow, no burn, you feel me?” 

“Oh, I feel—fuck!” When the television goes dark for the loading screen, a figure can be seen standing behind him. Peter wrenches the headset clear off and goes for the gun in the end table drawer, but as soon as he turns, he sees that it’s not (Beck, it’s not Beck, Beck’s dead!) some assassin. At least, it isn’t an assassin who is there to kill him. It’s Barnes. “Jesus Christ! Do you mind? Announce yourself when you enter a room, knock or something.” 

Peter picks up the headset. On the other end, Ned is freaking out. He knows vaguely that Peter’s boyfriend is in shady business (and that’s putting it lightly), knows about what happened last Spring regarding Beck just in the vaguest of terms. But still, he’s a good bro, he’s got a good imagination, and he worries. 

“Sorry Ned, it’s nothing. Just some asshole Tony has keeping tabs on me these days.” He glances over his shoulder but Barnes’s face doesn’t even change. Maybe his eyebrows are a little higher than they were, but nothing in his expression reads displeasure or anger. Just boredom, with maybe a hint of amusement. Peter isn’t the best at reading the nuances of expression; he prefers more straightforward body language. 

Rolling his eyes, Peter turns back to the loading screen and immediately mutes the other players in the lobby so he doesn’t have to listen to any twelve year olds argue over whose mom gives the best blowjobs.

“Whoa, dude, you’ve got a bodyguard now?” Ned asks. “That’s sick.” 

“You want him? I’ll loan him out to you. Twenty dollars.”

“Is he hot?” 

“You’re straight, Ned.” 

“Yeah, but you aren’t. I need data!”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s hot.” 

“On a scale of one to ten?” 

Peter turns to appraise the older man. He feels anxious butterflies in his stomach that flap their condor-sized wings when he meets those fathomless eyes that show him absolutely nothing. He makes a show of raking his gaze over Barnes from head to toe, the messy hair that’s an obscene length, the cut jaw, the wide shoulders and trim waist. “Body, ten. Face, ten,” Peter admits. Barnes lifts an eyebrow. “Personality…four.” 

Any amusement drains out of the other man’s face. 

“Ouch,” Ned mutters, though Peter can hardly hear it over his own laughter. 

In four long strides, Barnes passes around the couch Peter sits in front of. He puts one combat boot on the cords coming from the back of the PS4 and Peter has just long enough to cry out an indignant hey! before the foot twists and jerks, pulling the power supply from the game console. The television goes dark. 

“What the hell are you protecting me from right now, bodyguard?” Peter asks, pulling his headset off. “Having a good fucking time? Congratulations! I sure dodged that bullet!” 

“We need to talk,” says Barnes. God, that voice. It’s lethal. He imagines how it’s rough cadence would compliment Tony’s smooth tones, the both of them above Peter, taking him apart, talking a stream of the most toe-curling filth. He blinks the image away.

“I’m way more likely to do what you want if you just ask, asshole,” Peter growls. 

Barnes laughs, a mirthless sound.  “As if, kid. You think I’m stupid? Tony and I spent the whole goddamn morning discussing you and the best way for me to manage you. He made it absolutely clear that you view the simplest requests as challenges, so this is not me asking you to talk. This is me talking. And this is you sitting on your ass like a good little boy and listening to me. Got it?” 

Peter stares, gobsmacked, for one endless moment. Equal parts aroused and furious, watching the scales tip back and forth in his mind, wondering which side will win. “He told you how I treat requests, huh? Did he tell you how I treat demands?” 

Barnes’s eyes narrow—but then Peter is up and vaulting over the couch. He doesn’t expect escaping to be easy (not by a long shot, Peter knows better than anyone how well trained Tony’s men are, how in shape they are) but he doesn’t expect it to be so difficult either. Barnes truly is the Winter Soldier. He takes chase immediately, more instinct than conscious decision, leaping the couch in one graceful movement. Peter can feel the thud of footsteps behind him before he’s even out the door. There’s no chance he can outrun this maniac. 

But Peter has home field advantage. He knows the nooks and crannies, the ins and outs of the place. He doesn’t bother feinting the wrong direction, just puts all of his energy into sprinting down the hallway towards the kitchens and into the pantry. The pantry door can bolt from the inside, all he has to do is reach it and then he can use the secret stairs to go up to the second floor—

He doesn’t even make it that far. One arm, hard as steel, slips around Peter’s waist jerking him back into a chest like a tree trunk. If this were Tony, Peter might be tempted to go lax—Tony spent many months pursuing Peter (literally and figuratively). While they might chase each other sometimes, Peter knows that it’s just to reaffirm Tony’s dominance. But Barnes has no dominance over Peter, yet, and there’s no way in hell Peter is going to let him take it easily. 

He throws his head backwards, but Barnes is so fucking tall that it just hits him in the solar plexus. Barnes drops to his knees taking him to the ground. Peter knows that any fight is almost always over once one opponent is on the ground, so he twists with all the strength he has, nails scratching at the clothed arm that pins him tight. One of his heels comes up to strike the assassin in the balls, and all the breath rushes out of him. He loosens his grip just long enough for Peter to slip away and down the hallway, out into the foyer, and then into the kitchen. 

The door slams on the pantry before Peter realizes—Barnes isn’t giving chase anymore. He pauses, breathing as silently through his mouth as he can, reaching down to adjust his hard-on (Jesus, where had that thing come from? Get it together, Peter!). What’s his play? What’s Barnes doing? Has he given up so easily? 

Peter creeps to the wall that has the secret stairs, slides open the panel and begins to ascend the steep spiral, tip-toeing so as to not make any noise. Upstairs, he slides open the panel that sits just outside his bedroom with Tony and waits, listening. No sound. Not that he’d be able to hear one over the blood rushing in his ears. He sticks his head out to look left and right like a child about to cross traffic—but the hallway is empty. 

Creeping out, he slides the panel closed behind him. He can’t remember if he shut the panel in the pantry, but fuck it. Too late to go back now. Inside his bedroom with Tony is a window that opens up onto the rooftop. It’s easy enough to shimmy his way down the drainpipe and let himself fall the rest of the way into the azaleas. The gardeners hate him, but who fucking cares? 

Opening up the bedroom door—Barnes is there standing out the window, looking out with his hands in his pockets like he’s admiring the view of the lawns and the in-ground pool. He glances back at Peter and gives him a smile like a shark’s. Pointing at the window, he says, “Hey, is this the one you like to sneak out of? Huh.” 

Peter slams the door shut. Heart in his throat, he almost makes it to the stairs when a cord tangles itself around his shins and sends him careening to the carpeted floor. He looks down in horror at the device Barnes has just throw to trip him like Peter is fucking cattle. 

“Did you just use a bolas on me?” Peter says, kicking his legs to free himself. By then, Barnes is on top of him, rolling him onto his stomach and putting a knee into his lower back. The pressure knocks the breath from his lungs. 

“I spent too many years living in Russia to count, kid. In Siberia, the Yup’ik kids play with these like toys.”

“Thanks for the culture lesson,” Peter grits out. His erection grinds harshly into the carpet, and he’s more than tempted to squirm and revel in the friction. God, he’s so turned on. No one in his life has ever made him feel this hot save for Tony. “Mind getting off of me, now?” 

“You done running?” Barnes asks. 

“Get up and find out.” Barnes threads his fingers into Peter’s hair and pulls up. There’s no holding in the moan that slips free of his open mouth. “Harder,” Peter begs, half-joking. Barnes makes a noise in his throat (disgust? Amusement?) before letting go so suddenly that Peter’s forehead nearly kisses the floor. 

“Listen to me, Peter.” Barnes’s voice is close as he speaks almost directly into Peter’s ear, but no matter how Peter shifts, he can’t feel the air from the older man’s breath. Tragic. “Tony warned me about everything. Your favorite ways to sneak out, your favorite hiding spots, all your tricks and games. He told me that you’d be like this, a runner, a fighter. Warned me that you might need put down in submission and shown who is in charge. Consider this in no uncertain terms: I am in charge. I am to keep you safe, and I’m going to do it, no matter what that means. We don’t have to be at each other’s throats as long as you follow the few rules that I have.

“Any move you make, you’re going to run it by me first so that I can take proper precautions to keep you alive. Whatever games you want to play aren’t going to phase me until they endanger you. Then you can expect me to put you down, just like this. Do you understand?” 

Peter’s head feels fuzzy from the adrenalin of the chase and the euphoria of being caught. He can almost see himself pinned there on the floor like a bug beneath the larger man’s shoe, as if he is outside of his own body, but there is no more giddiness or fear. “Yessir,” Peter slurs. He drools on the carpet.

Above him Barnes withdraws from crushing Peter’s pelvis into the floor and Peter wastes no time in grinding his erection into the carpet, groaning as the sensation bursts across his sensitive skin, neurons sparking like fireworks. 

“Jesus, kid,” Barnes mutters. 

“How’s it going?” Tony asks, coming up around the last step of the stairs. He eyes Peter on the floor and his face twists, torn between sympathy and amusement. One of Peter’s hands reaches out, hips arching away from the floor and then back down in an absolutely obscene movement that can be mistaken for nothing besides what it is. “Aww, baby,” Tony purrs, eyes glittering. “Did big bad Bucky put you down? Been a while, huh?”

“To-ny,” Peter whines, far breathier than he’d like. But in this fuzzy place, nothing embarrasses him. When Tony offers Peter a hand, he can’t help but nuzzle against it, the contact burning in the best way. Tony helps him up onto shaky legs and Barnes reaches down to untangle him from the bolas. 

“We’ll be—ah, indisposed for the rest of the afternoon, Barnes, thank you,” Tony says. 

“‘s he coming too, Tony?” Peter asks, looking up the man—Tony! Tony Stark, Peter’s god, his idol, his master, his home and safety.

Tony’s smile wanes. He clears his throat, tucking Peter under his arm while one hand comes up to rub at his sternum the way he does only when the scar beneath his shirt aches. “No, kid. Just us. Bucky will be right outside though, won’t he? Keeping us safe.” 

Barnes nods, his head bowed in deference to Tony as the man passes by, and it’s the last thing Peter sees before the bedroom door closes and Tony becomes the center of his universe. 

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 29: Light + Week Orb/Reanimate - Exorcists Can’t Save Me Now Chap.2:  Dolly Hearts

You know what’s happening here, but with a bonus of the creepy possessed doll trope.

Tucker sits on the floor, leaning his back against the doll, “I know this is some crazy cool stuff dude, but somehow I doubt Other-Danny can really appreciate this”.

Danny just rolls his eyes, he still does get a bit of a kick out of the nickname they gave It being ‘Other-Danny’; thank you Coraline and Sam’s love of Tim Burton. Least she wasn’t still trying to give It button eyes, though Danny’s got no idea where all the buttons kept disappearing to. He’s honestly genuinely suspiciously Dammy ate them or absorbed them or something. Magic was weird. Probably bugged his parents that he believed the whole ‘magic doll’ thing over the ‘ghosts are real’ thing. But Dammy literally grew and stuff, kinda hard to ignore that. He has yet to see a freaking ghost.

Sam shakes her old school camera, “just get over here you goof, time to look stupid for the camera”. Danny sticks his tongue out at her before posing. Which yeah, probably looks stupid.

Tucker watches Danny walk in the giant creation with a small smile, all this tech stuff was so cool! Though glancing sideways at feeling movement and feeling just slightly unnerved by Dammy actually moving Its head to be ‘looking’ right at the portal. Alright. That’s freaky. “Uh, Danny-dude? Other you is doin’ that paying attention to you thing”, wasn’t that supposed to be some death omen thingy?

Danny turns his head, “huh?”, genuinely feeling cautious but not getting to do shit about that at the sound of a click and static. Snapping his head back towards the back of the portal and seeing the green light there, “oh fu-”.

Tucker jerks to stand up, Sam hovering worriedly by the portal as a massive beam of green light flashes out of the thing. Both immediately clamping their hands over their ears at the sound of screaming. Dammy is also making some kind of static noise, somehow staying sitting upright. That was freaky enough to give them something other than the god awful sound to focus on.

Sam still manages to catch Danny? or what she thinks is him, when he? falls out. Tucker also moving to grasp the person-shaped black and white static, “D-Danny man?”. Both teens wincing at the sound? he? makes.

“We can’t, oh god, can’t understa-”, Tucker getting cut off by Dammy sparking all over with green electricity and shooting bolts of lightning at the static Danny. Both Sam and Tucker yelping and jumping back, having gotten zapped themselves in the process; electricity jumping over their fingers and forearms.

The two wince and rub at their fingers before watching more than a little wide-eyed at the electricity stuff jumping all over static Danny and looking as if it was tugging at him or something. Tucker blurting out, “I don’t know how aware you are dude! But I think Dammy’s trying to pull you in or something!”.

Sam looks to him, “do you, fuck, do you think he’s even aware what’s going on?”.

“Sam, I don’t even know what the Hell’s going on! And I’m pretty sure Danny just got fried to a crisp, so what the Hell do you think!”.

“Oh don’t you snap at me! I was just asking a damn question!”.

“My best friend probably just died! So I think I’m allowed to snap at whoever the Hell I want!”.

“Like Hell you are!”.

“Shut up!”.

“No!”, Sam doesn’t get to say more than that as static Danny seemingly snaps into Dammy. The two friends watching green rays of almost blinding light shoot out of the ‘eyes’ before dimming into two little green orbs of light inside the pitch black of the eye sockets and move around a bit before the doll lurches forward, grasps Its stomach, and the stitched line opens up like a mouth to immediately vomit up chunks of cotton and herbs. Sam blinks, “oh man, we so need to get the Fenton’s”. Tucker just nods slowly, as they both gulp and move closer to the doll.

Tucker putting a hand on It/his back, “Danny?”. The doll hacks a bunch, more bits of mess coming out, and nods faintly. So Tucker pats his back, “alright, okay”, looking to the side and whispering, “holy fucking shit”, glancing at Sam then back to Danny, “just get it all out of... your system, man”.

Danny makes a sound that’s kinda like someone rubbing two marshmallows together. Tucker swallows, “still can’t understand you, man”. While Sam comes around the other side and gives him a soothing arm rub, “do you think you can move?”. Oh Hell, they messed up bad.

They watch as he very jerkily puts a hand to the ground, moving to help him stand; which he’s also jerky and stiff about. Danny makes more of the marshmallow sounds as he leans against Tucker. Though Tucker’s positive Danny was saying something along the lines of ‘thanks’. Tucker’s just trying to not be freaked out by the soft plushie feel of Danny’s body. Sure he was used to Dammy being around, but that was just Danny’s kinda weird doll thing. Now It wasn’t just a doll thing. Was there even a Dammy anymore? Man this was so messed up.

The two friends watch and steady Danny as he cranes his? head around in a way that was closer to limp lolling. Them both feeling him stiffening when he catches his reflection in the far side mirror. Sam and Tucker following his line of sight, staring at the vibrate green glowing orbs reflecting off harsh enough to practically blackout the rest of the mirror. Both of them wincing at more marshmallow sounds, though it sounds more ‘alarmed’ this time.

Tucker gives him a small squeezes on the shoulder, “for the love of everything, please be able to learn to talk like a freaking person again”. Sam smacks him for that. But Danny makes something like a velcro sound that sounds close enough to a laugh.

Sam looks to him, more than a little thankful she’s well used to seeing the lipless hollow-socketed face, even if the green light ball things were unnerving, “do you want me to get your folks”, nodding her head at Tucker, “this idiot will probably raid the fridge instead”.

Danny doesn’t move for a bit before nodding slowly, making more marshmallow noises and stiffly grabbing his throat with one hand.

Tucker pushes Danny to sit down as Sam bolts up the stairs, Danny repeatedly making more noises while squeezing and poking his throat. Tucker grabbing his shoulder, making him jerkily look to him, before pulling him in and hugging him close, “you-fuck, you don’t know how bloody happy I am for Dammy right now. That you had, have, I don’t know, Other-Danny”, squeezing him a bit more, “fuck Danny”, wheezing a chuckle out, “so, I guess ghosts exist huh?”. Not surprised to get marshmallow in return, the tone’s softer and maybe worried? though so he pats him on the back and let’s go; wiping his face a bit with his arm as he goes.

Both turn their heads to the side at Maddie practically bolting down the stairs, Sam right behind. “You kids aren’t supposed to be down here unsupervised, you know this”.

Tucker stands up immediately, holding his palms out pacifyingly, “we know we know, it’s just the tech’s so cool and things weren’t working and we do know some lab safety and-”. Cutting himself off as Danny jerkily stands and wavers badly, Tucker moving to steady him.

Maddie blinks and stares at the moving doll, slowly looking progressively more horrified, “Danny?”.

The thread that makes up Its mouth moves up into a wobbly-looking nervous smile. The doll nods a little. She staggers over, grabbing Its-his? arm and pulling his? hand into hers. Staring at the skin-like fabric, the nailless fingers, the threads and seams, “oh Danny, what did you do”, and hugging him. Hugging the doll that housed him. He makes gurgling fuzzy sounds. Maddie letting go and stepping back a little to steady herself and give him some room, while Tucker gives a weak smile and nudges the doll's shoulder, “hey, that was closer to words this time”.

Danny looks to him and makes some sounds while doing something that vaguely resembles a scowl. Then looking to Sam as she walks over and hugs him too, “you’re such an idiot”.

“ɥ͜͜͝ɐ̡̡̨͘ǝ̸̷̧̨̢⅄̵͝”.

All three wince, Sam and Tucker moving to cover their ears a little. Tucker grumbling, “I’d prefer the fuzz and marshmallows over that”. Danny winces and practically smacks himself in the face while going to cover his ‘mouth’ with his hand.

Maddie whispers, “that was ghost speak”, shaking her head and moving to touch his throat gently, swallowing, “your.. dolls muscles and voice box is made of cotton and sugar string, you’ll have to learn how to use them”. Looking to her son's friends and noticing the odd burns on their fingertips, “what happened to your fingers?”, which instantly gets Danny’s attention too.

Tucker looks at his fingers, at least it didn’t hurt, and looks back to her, “oh uh, we were kinda close to Danny when Dammy went all crazy light show and, like, sucked Danny in with lightning or something”. Maddie looks to Danny curiously. Danny just starts doing something akin to flailing and looking back and forth from his friends, gargling a bunch.

“Hey woah man, it’s not your fault. Heck! You didn’t even do it! And Dammy just did what It was literally designed to do“.

Sam nods and squeezes his arm, “yeah, I’m just glad you’re in this thing”.

Maddie looks around, noticing the mess on the ground and blinking, “did... did you throw up?”. Danny nods and looks to be trying to quirk an eyebrow but it’s not really working. But that... that wasn’t supposed to happen. So why? The only thing she can think of is that his friends might have interfered with something.

Tucker and Sam frown when Maddie rushes off to her computer systems, Sam snapping, “is that bad? Is Dammy not functioning right? It’s not rejecting Danny or something is It?”. Tucker just nods worriedly. Danny points at his friends then smacks a palm into his chest, his chest felt weird; especially if he was supposed to be a ghost... dead.

Maddie nabs up a scanner and rushes back to Danny’s doll, putting it to his ‘eyes’, “sorry sweetie, your eyes are the only part of your... ghost that’s accessible”.

Tucker blinks, “wait, those glowy light ball things are actually eyes”. Danny grunts, probably something along the lines of saying ‘obviously’ or maybe being offended.

“Well technically it’s a culmination of ectoplasm but a ghosts eyes always have the highest concentration outside of their Cores. So eyes yes, but also no”, shaking her head and pulling the scanner back. Blinking down, a bit dumbfounded, at the results, “you... Danny, you’re... still human”.

Sam and Tucker both immediately blurt, “WHAT!”, and Danny makes a high-pitched grating sound, then taps at the left of his chest.

Maddie squints but moves to put her hand over the spot, going a little slacked jawed, “there... you have a heartbeat”. Danny nods rapidly but stiffly. Maddie shakes herself off and looks down to the scanner while Sam and Tucker both grapple over his chest, obviously wanting to make sure for themselves.

Maddie looks from the reading to the two teens and back again. Those two, they always were her boy’s miracle friends. The only ones unphased by his oddness and accepting of the doll. Who would all go to weird lengths to help and protect and support each other; apparently more so than she ever thought even possible. Once again looking to the teens, “you two, it’s because of you two”.

The two look to her in obvious confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”.

“Huh? But we didn’t really... do anything”.

Maddie shakes her head, turning the device around to face them, “when you got zapped. The ecto-electricity picked up bits of your DNA and took it with it. Human DNA”.

Danny looks back and forth between his two friends, looking a bit like he’s gonna cry, not that he actually can though, and hugs both of them around the neck; pulling them into him. His arms bend in a circle rather than at the elbow though Sam and Tucker don’t really care and smile up against his doll cheeks, but pause, turning their heads towards Maddie, “wait, does that mean we’re related now?!?”.

Maddie lets herself smile almost meanly at that, though with a level of relief underneath, “just a little bit”. Danny makes a tearing sound not unlike Velcro, the two other teens rolling there eyes as he lets go of their necks; arms falling to his sides with soft thwaps.

Maddie tears her eyes away, this, Danny being fabric and the ecto-energy contained inside that bled out the eye sockets, was going to take some getting used to. Her looking over their machinery and glancing back at the cotton pile on the ground. He had a heartbeat so maybe... Moving to set up one of their body scanners while Danny makes some kind of puff sounds.

Sam and Tucker couldn’t care less what Mrs. Fenton was up to, far more focused on trying to help Danny with the whole ‘walking on legs that don’t have bones or fleshy muscles’ thing. As they sort of guide him to walk around, all three watching the legs wobble and bend at odd angles; he does seem to be getting better pretty quickly though, even if he seems annoyed.

Tucker chuckles after a bit, deciding making light of this crap was the best idea and the one his goddamn sticking to, “you know, I always wanted a little brother”, and looks down at him slightly emphasising his slightly taller height. Danny, predictably, shoves him.

Sam rolls her eyes, “don’t expect to get any of Nana’s inheritance though”. Danny and Tucker exchange confused looks, though it’s kinda hard to tell on Danny. Tucker asking with Danny pointing at him, “huh?”.

Sam grumbles, “forget it, doesn’t mean anything”. And once more getting blocked from saying anything more by Maddie.

“Alright, So I think I might have an idea why and how you threw up”. Which gets all three teens' attention, hoping that something really wasn’t wrong with the doll. Both friends stepping to the side a bit to let her use the invention, whatever it was. Watching it shoot out a wide beam of light and move over the doll's entire body. Danny tilting his head at a little too sharp of an angle after; the unblinking orbs making the effect seem wide-eyed and both more child-like and a little creepy.

Maddie blinks at the result, even more dumbfounded but also happy, ridiculously happy. Looking back to Danny and not being able to help smiling some; ignoring the totally unnatural head tilt, “my guess was right”, turning the screen to the teens, “you threw up to make room for organs. Heart, lungs, stomach; it’s all there”.

Sam sounds more than a little morbidly curious, “so there are fleshy bloody organs in there? How in the?”, looking to Danny, “glad you still have that stuff though”.

Tucker chimes in with, “especially a stomach! How else are we supposed to have burger eating contests?”. Sam scowls at him, but is honestly glad for the normalcy.

Maddie tilts her head a little and frowns slightly, “no they’re probably made of sugar, fondant, and maybe some blood cells. Some of the dolls spices too maybe. Cotton for lungs? The density is right”. She would like to actually know but... no, not happening. Stuffing the completed doll and stitching It shut when they made It had been unpleasant enough. And Danny probably wouldn’t enjoy that.

Tucker grabs and bends the doll's arm in a circle, “and his bones?”. Danny grunting at him for that and yanking his arm away, guy could have at least asked before treating him like a twist tie; though yeah, what the Hell.

Maddie glances back to the device's screen, “I think there’s sugar string trying to be bones”, looking back to Danny, “but obviously that’s not really working. There’s nothing really solid enough in the doll to be bones, sorry sweetie”.

Danny’s string mouth contorts a bunch and no one can really tell what kind of facial expression he’s trying to make, “p҉͟ᴉ͏d҉̷̧͢n̡͜͝ʇ̴͝S͘͢ ̸̷˙̸s͘͢ǝ̷̧̨u̸o̷͢q̸̨̧͜͞ ̸̢̛̛͟o̷̢҉͡u̸͢͠ ̶͡s͠͠u̷̧͠ɐ͘͜͡͏ƃ̷̛ɹ̛͟o̕͏̨҉”. Then covering his ‘mouth’ again when everyone winces. “Sree”. Then grinning a bit stupidly at getting an actual English sounding sound out. Everyone else grinning at him a bit too.

Maddie gives an understanding nod, “your actual body is energy, a... ghost, it makes sense their language would be a default for you”, sighing a little, “if it wasn’t for your doll that’s probably all you could speak”.

Tucker butts in a bit awkwardly, “he was just making static sounds before. So I think he still took some time to learn or whatever”. Sam rolls her eyes, “he was head to toe static before, moron”.

Maddie scrunches her eyebrows, studying Danny, “maybe that’s just how ghosts look before they stabilise. The dolls are supposed to house the person before they stabilise after all”, squinting a little, “do you think you can stick out your tongue?”, the doll didn’t have one, so that was another area where the ghost inside was supposed to be able to be seen.

Danny gives a stiff shrug, arms flapping around limply a bit from the motion, and sticks out his tongue with absolutely no idea where this is going.

Sam and Tucker snort and chuckle a little at the glowing green forked thing, with bits of static or electricity spiking off it here and there but it was mostly solid.

Maddie nods, also noting the sharp teeth the doll had sprouted, at least those weren’t glowing. Just a little too white though. Just enough to feel wrong. Seemed slightly transparent too, especially at the tips. “I’d say you’re stabilised now-”.

Sam cuts her off, grabbing Danny’s face and prodding the teeth, “woah! You’ve got fangs! Damnit, now I’m jealous”. Tucker starts laughing while Danny bats away her hands, joining in with Velcro sounds after a bit though.

Tucker pats him, “and nice snake tongue, dude”. Danny makes more alarmed marshmallow sounds before sticking his tongue back out and grabbing at it. It feels like he’s going wide-eyed, but without eyelids that’s kind of hard to tell; the green orbs do get a bit wider though.

Maddie gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, “ghost usually only resemble humans, sweetie. There’s bound to be changes. Just maybe don’t stick your tongue out at people”.

Tucker immediately blurts out, “or do! Bet than would totally freak Dash out!”. Maddie gives a fond sigh at that, though hoping he doesn’t actually do that. Part of the point of the dolls was so the ghost wouldn’t start terrorising people, by force or by choice.

Danny covers his mouth, effectively conveying that he would not be doing that. Or at least not till he was at least comfortable with all of... this. Being able to feel his heart beating seriously helped, though actually being able to feel it brushing up against soft cotton was supremely weird. And the staticky tingling running around everywhere was very distracting. Though that might be the only reason he’s not having a total meltdown right now. He had literally died, stoled his friends' DNA, and hijacked Dammy’s ‘body’; which fine, was kinda the point and meant Dammy was serving Its purpose but still.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, making a point to not be weirded out by the stringy texture of his hair, “maybe I should make us some food, you should be able to eat it. Also, you are not going to school tomorrow or for the next few days”.

All three teens go wide-eyed -or wide-orbed in Danny’s case- realising the slight issue. Sam and Tucker glancing at Danny. His ‘skin’ was noticeably fabric, the string ‘mouth’ absolutely couldn’t pass as even kinda normal, his ‘eyes’ were an obvious issue, people might not notice the lack of fingernails and same with the shark teeth, and then there was the boneless problem, oh and he couldn’t speak. Danny just jerkily rubs at his neck before pointing upstairs and making marshmallow noises.

[kassies-take]

Freak Turned Legend

Whilst on a mission, Sara and Ava save reader. They very quickly start to form a bond with reader and eventually ask to adopt them!!! thanks:))

A/n: I’m going to mix in a bit of Legends of Tomorrow 5 x 03 and Batwoman 1 x 10. Hey look at it this way, Avalance is getting another kid.

Warning: Homophobia & Hate

Avalance, Sara Lance x Reader, Avalance x Reader

Word Count: 1118

“We’re in 2014, a mysterious murderer roaming the halls of another school dance.”

“Babe, is now really the time to get intel for your murder board?” Sara harshly whispered.

“Right sorry,” Ava put away her recorder.

“I don’t think it’s an encore this time, nothing like this has ever happened in history.” 

“Crisis may have changed some things.” 

“Wait Wait Wait,” Ava pulled Sara against the lockers.

“What is it?”

“I think someone just went into the restroom,” Ava whispered.

“Aves, it’s a school dance people are bound to go to the restroom.” Sara rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but not alone. No girl goes to the restroom alone, not even on prom night.” 

As Sara and Ava neared the restroom they overheard a conversation. 

“I don’t need you to kill anyone, just scare them... you can hurt them but you can’t kill them.” You said on the phone.

“Look I’m not willing to take the blame for you, if you want something done you have to do it yourself.” 

“Fine,” The call ended but you kept the phone at your ear as a presence made themselves known. 

Sara looked at Ava when the automatic paper towel dispenser went off.  When Sara looked back towards your direction you were gone. Sara marched towards the last stall as her eyes darted all over the place to find you. 

“Where did she go?” 

The room slowly flooded with darkness, with that, you slid behind Sara’s leg and slashed at her calves. Sara hissed in pain as Ava tried to get to Sara. You took your escape. Once you left the lights turned on, Ava supported Sara as they both went to go find you. 

They were not that far behind you when Sara threw a dagger past your biceps. Ava and Sara gasped at the white and yellow glowing that replaced the usual dark red liquid. With the power to absorb and create photons of light, heat and energy, a powerful ray of light blinded the Captain and Co-Captain. 

The two covered their eyes as you made another escape. It wasn’t hard to follow once their eyes adjusted, as your blood trailed towards the gym and the fact that it was glowing. 

The dance decorations began to burn which caused a whole gym of idiots to run out screaming. 

“Behrad! We need your totem in the gym. NOW!”

Behrad couriered in using his totem to put out the fire. You planned to make your escape when you ran into a metal man. He had a lot of confidence for someone who didn’t know your powers. He grabbed your wounded shoulder and pulled away his hand at the burn. You grabbed his forearm as your hands glowed, letting Nate fall to the ground from the heat. 

The Legends returned to the Waverider defeated. 

“Do all missions turn out this badly?” Zari asked from the control center.

“Pretty much, not a Legends mission if there’s no mishap, Z.” Charlie explained

“I’m having Gideon track the blood sample, from Sara’s dagger.” 

“Captain it seems our suspect is, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). Not much is known about her.”

“Isn’t she like super hot?” Zari asked as the Legends gave her questioning glances. Zari rolled her eyes. “Her powers or whatever. Can’t you use a thermal scanner?” 

“That could work,” Ray smiled. “Her blood glows at the same light as her powers do. We can have Gideon search the city for it.”

“What about all the other metas that got their powers earlier this year?” Nate asked. 

“Well we have her blood, can’t we just track that?” Charlie asked. 

The process worked and now Sara and Ava were walking into an abandoned workshop. You ran when the two spotted you, but like the great partners they were they trapped you on both sides with a meta dampener on the perimeter. 

“You burned a whole school full of innocent kids,” Ava crossed her arms behind you. 

“I wasn’t going to burn the school.”

“My air-bender friend says differently.” Sara stated. 

“I was there, controlling the fire with my bare hands. I was gonna stop it, absorb the heat. But you stopped it first. Whatever, it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ava growled.

“I’m sorry okay.” Sara stalked closer to you. “Look I really am sorry. I just thought that if I could scare the school, that they would forget that I am a freak.”

“You’re not a freak.”

“I am to them, I’m uh... gay. And these powers don’t help me with that! I wanted to be out, I didn’t want to hide this from my mom anymore. We were close, and when I decided to tell her she told my dad and it all changed. THEY ERASED ME FROM RECORDS. PAID PEOPLE OFF TO CHANGED ALL THEIR PHOTOS. THEY BURNED MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE, SOCIAL SECURITY CARD AND THEY EVEN TRIED TO BURN ME! Then there was the school, this is a safe zone, no bullying here, you’re accepted here.” You mocked. 

“That sucks and that’s not fair, but that does not give you the right to put innocent lives in dan-” 

“Society wants me to be someone I’m not! Do you know how that feels? I hate myself okay. So spare your ‘it’s going to get better speech’ because we know that I am going to grow up hiding who I am, if it isn’t my sexuality then it’s going to be my powers. And you were probably the cool kid in school, and now you’re here being a hero,” tears clouded your eyes.

“We’re more in common than you think.” Ava spoke. “That woman behind you, that’s my girlfriend. We might not know what it’s like to be discriminated against  because of an accident that gave you powers to make a difference. But we know what it’s like. I more than anyone can relate to how you’re feeling. I am a clone from 2213, factory made. Set to be perfect. There are hundreds like me but the one thing that makes me, makes us different is choosing to live the life we want.” Ava grabbed both your hands as you sniffed. 

Sara moved to caress your back. “A friend of ours, is a fairy godmother. Yes, they exist. She once stated ‘Being yourself is more powerful than any wish.’”  

“Being comfortable with myself, scars and all, is how the right people found me.” Ava smiled at you. “I know you’re going to be okay kid.” 

You smiled back at her. 

“You’re definitely going to be okay kid, cause we have room for an intern Legends” Sara smiled. 

“Legend?” 

“Don’t worry kid we got all the time in the world to tell it to you.” 

[ssfghfrrggf]

Day 1

I finally got around to writing about my first day of survival and rescue training from a month ago. I know some of y'all were intrested in reading it! So here's day one:

Preface

Being a firefighter isn’t a task to be tackled by the faint of heart, the training alone will test your character and strength and your heart. Training is where all the people crazy enough to pursue their dream of spending their life running into burning buildings and dancing with death for the sake of saving others discover whether they are actually crazy enough to do it. And you do have to be crazy to do it.

Firefighter survival and rescue training is to teach you how to survive when survival isn’t looking like an option and it’s to teach you how to save your buddy too, it also just so happens to push you to your limits and then push you further, to test your will and dedication. It not only teaches you how to survive, but whether you can actually survive the job you so desperately want to do. Day one is all about you and your survival. Day two is about learning to save your friend, your brother or sister, your fellow firefighter.

This is my account of Day 1

The Importance of a Mayday

The class starts at 8:00 AM. I live a half an hour away from where the first part of the day is going to take place. I get up at 5:30, which in my humble opinion is way too early for any living thing to be awake. I stay in bed for a good 20 minutes before I finally crawl out of my cozy warm bed and get dressed in my cloth that I have specially laid out for the day: my fire department t-shirt, my black cargo pants, and my fire department issued beanie. Then I make my way down stairs. Despite the butterflies in my stomach I eat a big breakfast and go off to load my 40 pound bag of firefighter gear in the car. That all takes me a good half an hour. I shouldn’t leave the house until at least 7:00. I end up leaving at 6:45. I am almost an hour early to class. An hour I spend with sweaty palms and nervous jitters. I’ve been amped up all week worrying about this class and dwelling in the existential fear that I won’t physically be able to survive this weekend. (it’s a back to back class. 8 hours on saturday and 8 hours on sunday (sunday ends up being closer to 10 hours))

In the classroom we are taught a lot of things. Mostly all the ways in which things can go horribly wrong for us, and all the ways we can die. We watch videos, some of which rattle me to my core, and I wonder if I'm the only one who’s shook as I look around the silent room of firefighters from all different departments in the state. I think that maybe I am. Most of them have seen a thing or two, and been on their fair share of calls. Even my buddy Adam has seen his first structure fire and he's younger than me. I am the newest person in the room, hell I'm not even allowed out on calls yet. In a lot of ways I'm right where I should be, in other ways I feel wildly out of place.

We're told about the old days of old mustache endowed men running into fires and eating smoke (literally, most trucks back in the day only carried one or two air packs, and if you took one you were a pussy). In the old days wearing an air pack and calling a mayday were held on the same level of "you wimp!" Right along with therapy. How the times have changed. Now if you go in air pack free, Osha will have you, your captain, and probably your chief too (just for good measure)’s asses. And if you get cancer the department won't do jack because "sorry buddy, you should've had an air tank" (every truck now has more than enough tanks to go around). Therapy has also become encouraged (you'll still occasionally get the big ol' old timer with a big white mustache who will tell you to suck it up), now we know bottling up feelings can be just as deadly as a flashover. And finally the importance of calling a mayday. It used to be shameful to have your ass dragged out by your buddies, but now it's encouraged. If you're in trouble you had damn well better call that mayday. We're told to practice calling one every morning in front of the mirror, because if you can't piece together what you need to say while you're standing safe at home there's no way in hell you're gonna be able to do it when you're fearing for your life.

Mayday's aren't pretty and neat like they are on tv, and they're certainly not that calm or audible. We listened to a few videos of maydays, and half the time you can't hear half of what's being said, hell you're lucky if you make out one of the three maydays (you always say it three times, then call your name, last known location, what kind of trouble your in, and what your air's at. That's the ideal mayday anyway). There's even a story of a firefighter that called a mayday and the only reason they knew about it was because a civilian heard it on their scanner and called 911 wondering if it was something to be concerned about. We were also told once you call your mayday keep trying to get out but keep reporting your location so RIT can find you. Calling a mayday can save your ass. You might get made fun of for it, but that’s a whole hell of a lot better than dying. The only place egos get you is dead. So when in doubt, call the mayday and if you get yourself out of trouble you can always radio in and cancel it. You’re buddies would rather haul your ass out of a fire than have to burry you.

There's so much more we went over in that class and so many important things, but if I try to go into all of it, it will take hours (3 or 4 is about how long we were in that classroom). So I'm going to get onto the better stuff.

Morning Line Up

I hook a ride to the outdoor training ground with my buddy Adam. We get McDonald's on the way there as our lunch (it’s about 11:30 maybe 12:00). I know I should hydrate before we start off the day of hard work ahead of us, but there are no bathrooms at the training ground and I really don't want to have to go pop a squat behind a bush and try to do it in bunker gear. I drink a little water, finish up lunch in Adam's car with him and then we get geared up and head toward the group of firefighters beginning to gather around the big red training building. The building is really a little breath taking. It's constructed of red shipping containers and about three stories tall. It looks a little like a fort (sadly none of us will end up going into it. Our work is all done outside.) 

It takes some time for everyone to finally get gathered around the instructors, but we finally do and then we're split into two lines and told to stand there. Then a big tall guy, we'll call him Hodge, steps in between the two lines and begins to walk the length of them. I feel a speech coming, and I'm right, and it's glorious. He walks up and down our lines, his breath freezing in the morning air and catching the sun light, and joining with the breath of everyone else there. It's really a beautiful awe inspiring sight. One i won't forget. For  the life of me I can't remember what all was said, but it was awe inspiring  and if I hadn't been surrounded by close to 30 other firefighters i probably would've cried. What i can remember is he told us today- the whole weekend really- would kick our asses (it did) and that we're really just a big group of crazy people with a purpose. He told us that it's okay to be scared, any normal person would be especially when it comes to diving head first out a second story window onto a ladder or lowering yourself out a second story with nothing but a rope, your own two hands and a halligan. He said it was okay to be scared, but what matters is what you do in the face of that fear. That's what sets us apart. That's what defines us. He also told us the day would test us and push us to our limits, but "can't" isn't something that should ever be said. He told us what can't means. Can't means you don't make it home. Can't means maybe someone else doesn't make it home. Can't means he doesn't get to see his kids again. Can't gets people killed. Can't is not an option. And i would later discover deep down, can't is something i just don't have in me.

You Want Me to be The Group Leader?

After the lineup and the speeches are over, each line is split into 3 groups and we are all given air tanks to wear for the day (you don't know back pain until you wear one of those things for close to 5 hours while being on your feet). Then we each line forms a circle over in the grass, we're taught how to go low profile in our tanks. The gist of it it is: you loosen your straps, and slide the tank over so it's between your side and your arm so you can fit through tight spaces. It's pretty simple. Then we are told to split off into the groups we were assigned and one of the instructors b-lines for me, points to me and says "you're the group leader". I am shook to say the least, and the least qualified person in the group to be the leader, but no one says anything. I get everyone's names (and can't remember them now), but i can remember distinguishing features for all of them. There's the guy who likes Jack from station 19, the german guy, another girl, and the super quiet guy in the black turnout gear who frankly i kept forgetting existed and looked like a middle schooler (what a great group leader i am). 

Our first drill is diving through a hole a wall and then climbing and hanging out a window cill. I have no problem getting through the hole, i have some problems getting turned around in the tight space and i have a lot more problems getting up to the window cill because i am very short. I use the halligan as a step stool and manage it. Everyone else in the group goes after me. If you ever want to be amazed just watch firefighters do this drill. There are still some guys that i still don't know how they fit through that hole in the wall or back out the window. But as i like to say, you'd really be amazed what firefighters can fit into. After everyone in the group goes, i go again. It's smoother this time, and I know how to properly use the halligan as a step stool. Everyone else goes again, and then we go to the next station: following hoselines. 

It's really pretty cut and dry. You keep both hands on the line at all times, if you're in a mayday situation you make sure the people outside know what color line you're on so they can find you easier. If you come across couplings on the hose, the easiest way to figure out if your heading outside is to recite a helpful little phrase (one that i love) "smooth bump bump to the pump". One coupling has a smooth part then a bump, the second coupling only has a bump. If the order that go is smooth, bump, bump, then you know you're heading to the pump which is outside. They teach us how to figure that out by just feeling aka we're blind folded for the drill. Also I'm slowly discovering that my job as group leader is moot. The group doesn't need much direction. Not that I'm really qualified to give it anyway.

The next skill on our little skill itinerary is learning how to untangle yourself when you can't see anything. When we do this skill the group splits into two sections to save time. Me and two other firefighters (the german and the guy who looks like jack from station 19) go to one instructor, the rest of the group goes to the other. I go first. How the drill goes is you crawl along blind folded and then the instructor will use two ropes attached to side of the shipping container building to get you nice and tangled up. Your job is to not panic and get yourself free from the rope. I, by some miracle, manage to do it pretty well both times. Then the German goes, and i gotta say it's more stressful to watch than it is to actually do it. You can see exactly what needs to be done, but the person doing it can't, and you're not allowed to help. The german frees himself pretty easily and then leaves to go stand with his buddies who are all cheering on the last member in that section of the group who appears to be struggling a great deal. I stay and wait while the who looks like Jack goes through the drill. He has a hard time of it. At one point he has the rope wrapped three times around his air tank. I stay right where I am waiting for him until he's done. I feel an obligation to stay, i'm the group leader, and I'm not gonna leave him alone. He eventually frees himself and we all regroup. Then it's time for the ladder and rope stuff.

Head First Out the Window

It's a scary concept, and a scary practice, all done to prepare you for some future scary situation. They want us to dive head first out a window, hook your arm on one rung, grab two rungs below that with your other hand and then use gravity to twist around so you're upright, all while a good 20 feet in the air. If you do it wrong you could dislocate your shoulder, break your arm, fall off the ladder or do all three. They have you hooked up to a safety harness just in case, but it's still scary standing in that second story window and staring down at all the people below you and then diving out the window. It goes against human nature. You are not supposed to dive out of anything 20 feet in the air and you're not supposed to go head first down ladders and yet- that's exactly what we're supposed to do… TWICE

I have butterflies in my stomach waiting to go up to dive out the window. My buddy Adam is a head of me in line and he seems to just be absolutely PUMPED. I watch him go through the window and he doesn't hesitate, he just dives down the window and flips around like he's done it a million times. I'll discover Adam is Just Like That. Before long it's my turn. I'm standing next to the window getting hooked up to the safety harness and I'm looking down at everyone and I'm beginning to question my life choices. I've done some crazy things in my life, but this is by far the craziest (it will shortly be one upped). I don't just go straight out the window, I take my sweet time and i go slow. But I do it and… it's actually a blast! I don't just want to go one more time, I wanna do it for the rest of the day! The second time waiting in line to do it again me and Adam are vibrating a chattering wildly because it was fucking awesome! Adam goes, I go again, this time with a little more speed. But my end result isn't as pretty. I end up with one foot on the ladder and the other off. When i get on the ground I am informed by an instructor that they thought I was gonna fall. 

Just Tip Out the Window

If I thought diving head first out the window was the craziest thing I'd do that day, I was really very wrong. That prize goes to me lowering myself out the window with just my own two hands, a rope, a halligan, some physics, probably a little bit of luck, and a whole ton of guts. How it works is: you sit on the window cill like you're sitting on a horse, one end of your rope is attached to a halligan that is anchored into place in the corner of the window, you drop the long part of your rope out the window behind you, then you hold the two sides of the rope together in front of you kind of like a belt (this process is way easier to show than explain using just words on a page). It's kind of like you're making a horseshoe around yourself. Then you lean forward and tip out the window, kind of like how you'd dismount a horse. If done properly you should be facing the sky and have your back to the ground. Then to lower yourself you just loosen your grip on the rope a little and to stop you tighten your grip. The friction is what stops you from falling full speed and hitting the ground. I know all that babble doesn't sound simple, but it really is very simple and straightforward. And you're attached to a safety harness just in case something goes wrong, which should be comforting but really isn't.

You discover something about yourself when you're sitting 20 feet in the air getting ready to entrust yourself to mere physics  (and a safety harness that somehow doesn't even register as existing). I'm sitting there thinking about how absolutely right good ol' Hodge was right about having to be crazy to do this. And as I sit on that window ready to tip out in all ways except for mentally, I'm wondering if maybe I am not as crazy as i thought i was and if i'm actually crazy enough to cut it. I've never been a fan of heights, so looking down at the ground and all the other firefighters looking up at me is absolutely terrifying. And there is a moment where I seriously consider saying nevermind and getting off the window cill and walking back down safely. This skill isn't even required to pass the class. But as I sit on that window cill i discover a very important part of myself, i discovered my point of no return, which was probably all the way back on the first step leading to the window. Once I start I can't stop. I wanted to climb off that window cill and run back down to safety, but I was incapable of doing so. I had come this far, so I was going all the way. I had started so I wasn't going to stop. Once I start something that I am truly passionate about or want really badly to succeed at,  I can't stop until I've seen it through all the way, and I think that is going to carry me through the rest of my career. My inability to back down. There’s no can’t.

I gripped my rope tight and tipped over out the window. I lowered myself down and the whole thing probably only took 10 or 15 seconds. As soon as my feet hit the ground I wanted to go again, sadly we were only allowed to do it once. Adam however managed to worm his way through the line a second time. Lucky sneaky bastard.

I still want to lower myself out more windows and whenever anyone does it on tv i get jealous.

Closing Speeches

No one's allowed to leave the training grounds until everything was cleaned up and put away. Once clean up is done the instructors all gathered us into a big group and we get some nice closing speeches from the different instructors about how we did a great job. Surprisingly enough the only thing Hodge says is a curt "good job", i guess he used up all his speech giving for the day that morning. Once all the instructors are done talking to us, Hodge stands up and very loudly says, for all to hear, "Like they say at the end of classes in the academy. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here so get the hell of the property." And with that we are released.

[sergeanttucker]

Science Bro Sandwich

Summary: Tony spends his time in his lab. Once again. (Y/N) persuades him to go to bed.

Warning: Smut! ,badly written smut!, some dirty talk and swearing, oral sex (f/m receiving), angry/worried/soft Tony

Word count: 4804 (Sorry.)

AN - I like the beginning of this Sandwich, but I’m not sure I like how it ended. I hope you like it, anyway! Let me know!

AN2 - Requests are open!

Another lonely night made (Y/N) roll around in bed without closing her eyes. As always, Tony spent the night in the lab working on a new project. She didn’t know what exactly he was working on. If she had asked him, he would explain, but (Y/N) didn’t know much about technology and probably would not have understood it.

 It was already midnight when she decided to convince Tony to go to bed with her. The last time they had gone to bed together was an eternity ago, and it was just as long ago that (Y/N) slept well. She missed him wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer and the heat creeping into her bones as he pressed against her.

 When she arrived in front of the lab, she put her hand on the handprint scanner and opened the door. A sight to which she had already become accustomed greeted her. Tony leaned over one of his desks and scribbled notes on various papers, with far too loud rock music playing in the backround. On the table were still the dishes from the dinner (Y/N) had brought him a few hours earlier, as well as several empty coffee cups.

Tony apparently had trouble making progress on his project; his hair was completely disheveled. (Y/N) took a few steps toward him and stopped directly behind him. She put her arms around him and hugged him from behind before she pressed a small kiss against his neck. “Hey, babe.”

 Tony flinched at the sudden contact but was not disturbed by her presence and continued to write down notes. The only thing he gave her as a response was an acknowledging sound from the back of his throat as he grabbed a weird-looking device from the table and started fiddling with it.

 “It’s late. You should come to bed with me.” (Y/N) pressed another kiss to his cheek after she murmured in his ear. Her hands lay on his shoulders, she could feel how tense they were and started to rub circles into his shoulder blades. Leaning more into her touch, an appreciating sigh left his lips, and he momentarily closed his eyes. “I need to finish this first. I had a problem with the suit on the last mission.”

 (Y/N) leaned down and trailed kisses up his neck to his ear, lightly biting his earlobe she started to whisper in a seductive tone. “I have a problem, too. How about you solve mine first?” A smile found its way onto her face when she heard the throaty groan from his lips.

 “Baby, I’d love to have you squirming underneath me...” A gasp interrupted him as (Y/N) nipped at a particular sensitive spot on his neck. “...but I really need to finish this.” He leaned away from her and got back to his work, leaving (Y/N) standing behind him with a pout. She briefly crossed her arms over her chest and took two quick steps toward his desk, leaning her hip against it as she watched him.

 Tony glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. He sighed heavily at her ridiculous cute pout and pushed his chair away from the desk. Turning around to see her better, he quirked an eyebrow at her and gestured to his lap. “Get your little ass over here.”

 She tried to suppress the victorious smile that tugged at her lips, but she failed miserably and climbed happily onto his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) leaned in to kiss Tony, but he quickly withdrew his head and smirked at the disappointed whine that came from her lips. Tony’s hands stroked over her barely covered ass, squeezing it before he delivered a soft slap to one of the cheeks. “If I remember correctly, I told you not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

 A soft moan fell from her lips when he slapped her ass again, a little harder this time before he kneaded it in his hands. “I know, I’m sorry.”

 Slightly rough hands moved from her ass up over her sides and pushed the shirt she had been wearing upwards. Her breath caught as he began to nibble on her neck and his hands brushed against the underside of her breasts. The feeling of his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin sent a shiver down her spine. “If you’re sorry, why did you do it then?”

 One of her hands buried itself in his hair, holding his head where she wanted it when he sucked a mark on her neck. Her voice sounded breathless when she found words to answer. “I just ... I just missed you.”

 “You missed me?” (Y/N) nodded once and raised her arms over her head as Tony began to take off her shirt, exposing her bare chest. His hands moved over her soft skin and his eyes followed the movements of his hands. He licked his lips as his eyes fell on her bosom. “What exactly did you miss?”

 Pressing soft kisses to her collarbone, he marveled at the way she arched her back towards him. One hand lay on her thigh as the other found its place on her back. “I missed to be wrapped up in your arms at night. I missed your warmth.” He hummed, silently telling her to continue as he moved his mouth over her skin.

 “I missed...” A hiss interrupted her as he bit down on her neck. “I missed the glow of your arc reactor when I woke up in the middle of night.” At these whispered words, Tony stopped his ministrations on her neck and looked into her eyes. A soft smile spread across his face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed a loving kiss to her lips.

 Once again, Tony wondered how he ended up with someone as wonderful as the beautiful girl on top of him. When he broke the kiss, he kept his face close to hers as he quietly asked, “What do you want?”

 “You.” (Y/N) pressed her lips back against his and sighed as Tony’s tongue swept over her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She quickly granted it and swirled her tongue around his. A muffled groan hit her ears when she lightly tugged at his hair and started to rock her hips against his.

 Strong hands gripped her hips and helped her to guide the movements. The bulge that began to build in his pants rubbed deliciously against her panty clad pussy. The longer the kiss lasted, the harder she rocked against him and Tony had to break the kiss for a loud groan as he felt her wetness seep through his pants. “Fuck, baby... You’re making it hard to be gentle.”

 (Y/N) nipped at his earlobe before she whispered to him. “I don’t want you to be. Please, fuck me Tony. Fuck me hard.” He groaned throatily at her words and gripped her ass before he stood up and sat her on top of his desk. (Y/N) shuddered as the cold surface touched her bare skin, a squeak left her lips when Tony stepped between her legs and pulled her towards the edge of the table.

 His hand gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a harsh kiss, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He bit her lip when he broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re so dirty, baby. I’m gonna fuck you really good, don’t worry.”

 Another hard kiss was pressed against her lips as his hands wandered over her body, groping every inch of skin he could. Kisses were trailed over her jaw to her neck, leaving yet another mark there before he leaned further down to kiss and bite at her breasts.

 Hands buried in his hair, (Y/N) arched her back to press herself more against him and softly moaned his name as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, massaging the other breast with his hand. (Y/N) was already panting when he trailed kisses to her other breast, repeating his actions there.

 After he had given them equal attention, Tony gave (Y/N) a shove, so she lay down on the table. His eyes dropped down between her legs, an arrogant grin (Y/N) had already grown accustomed to spreading across his face when he saw the light damp spot on her panties. He rubbed two fingers over the spot and his stupid smirk just grew when (Y/N) sighed heavily at the contact. “Looks like you’re excited, baby. Care to tell me what made you this wet?”

 (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. Of course, Tony had to play his little game with her. If she weren’t so desperate already, she would have spat a cocky remark at him but she was dizzy with the need to get touched by him, the only thing that came out of her was a breathy whine. “Please, Tony. No games tonight.”

 The smirk on his face didn’t waver as he pressed his fingers harder against her, circling her clit through her soaked underwear. “Oh, but you know I love to play, darling. Now answer my question or I will have to stop.” He withdrew his hand from between her legs, but (Y/N) was quick to catch his wrist and pull his hand back where she wanted it. “You, Tony. You made me this wet. Please don’t stop touching me.”

 “See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?” He once again pressed his fingers against her clit, enjoying the sounds she made as his fingers slipped down to her hole. He bit his lip at the way her hips bucked up to get more friction. “I bet you would love it if I ate that pussy, wouldn’t you? If I made you cum with my tongue?”

 A needy moan tumbled from her lips at the thought. (Y/N) loved it when Tony went down on her. He’s always like a starved man when he buried his head between her legs. “Fuck... yes Tony, please!” He chuckled darkly at the needy tone of her voice and gripped the waistband of her panties to tug them off of her legs. He groaned as he had a full view of her soaking wet pussy and sat down in his chair so he was eye level with her most intimate parts.

 Gripping her thighs, he tugged her even closer to the edge of the table and sucked a mark on the inside of her thigh. A gasp left her lips, and she buried one of her hand in his hair to guide him where she wanted him but Tony gripped her wrist and lifted his head to look at her face. “Oh no, darling. You’re not allowed to touch. Keep your hands over your head and grip the edge of the table. If you move them, I will stop.”

 This stupid smirk was plastered on his face. (Y/N) whined disappointed but did what he said and lifted her hands over her head. “Good girl.” Tony pressed an approving kiss to her thigh before he continued to suck marks into her skin, soothing the sting of each of them with a swipe of his tongue.

 A few minutes went by and (Y/N) was trembling with need. Skin slightly sweaty, her thighs twitched with every touch of Tony’s hands or his tongue. She was dripping with lust; she could feel her arousal dripping onto the desk. Tony only smirked at her wrecked appearance; her eyes were screwed shut, chest heaving with every heavy breath she took. He took another bite to the inside of her thigh and sat back up straight in his seat.

 “You look desperate, darling. Is there something you want?” His hands stroked over her legs, and he chuckled at the sob that fell from her lips. He was about to say something as his eyes fell on a figure standing in the corner of the room, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as they roamed over (Y/N)’s naked body. Tony smirked and pretended to not see him as he stood up and leaned over (Y/N)’s shaking form. “We have an audience, darling. Our dear Dr. Banner looks like he is about to explode because of you.”

 (Y/N) whimpered and glanced around the room to get a look at him, but Tony’s body shielded him from her eyes. He leaned further down to whisper in her ear as his hands wandered over her legs towards her pussy. “Do you want him to watch while I eat your delicious little pussy?” He swiped a finger through her wet folds which caused her to moan and buck her hips up. “Or shall I call him over so he can have a taste? Your choice, darling.” Tony nipped at her neck as he waited for an answer.

 Hesitating for a moment, (Y/N) thought about what to do. Wouldn’t it be awkward? Fuck it. Bruce was a handsome and intelligent guy and she would lie if she said she never wondered what the doctor would be like in bed. Slow and soft? Fast and hard? She would find out. Hopefully. “I... please, ask him.” Tony chuckled at her breathy voice and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before he directed his voice to his friend.

 “You know what Bruce? My pretty girl would love it if you made her cum.” The smirk was evident in his voice as he stepped around the desk and came to a stop on the other side, right where (Y/N)’s head was. He stroked over her hair as he watched Bruce’s flustered face with amusement.

 The poor doctor’s eyes were glued between her legs as he fiddled with his hands. He cleared his throat as he willed his eyes away from her pussy to look at Tony’s face. “I eh...” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. He didn’t know what to say or to do. He wasn’t even supposed to be here at this time!

 “Come on Brucie. Look at this naked masterpiece and tell me you don’t want to bury yourself inside of her.” (Y/N)’s breath got even more uneven as she listened to their conversation, she bit her lip in anticipation as Bruce took a few careful steps towards her and came to a stop between her spread legs. The fingers of one of his hands traced the skin of her thighs softly as he watched her face for a sign that she didn’t want him to touch her. His eyes roamed her body as it lay before him.

 “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Bruce nodded at his words and let his fingers stroke over her hip and stomach until he reached the swell of her breasts. “And so soft,” Bruce noted as his hand softly cupped one of her breasts, thumb swiping over her nipple. Being bolder than he thought he would be, Bruce let the hand that wasn’t massaging her breast wander down her body and pressed his thumb against her clit.

 Her hips bucked up on instinct, pressing herself against him with a breathy moan. Bruce eyes snapped up to her pleasure ridden face, her moans encouraged him to draw circles on her clit.

“Fuck... I need to cum. Please, Bruce make me cum.” A throaty groan rumbled in his chest at her needy plea, and he sat down in the chair Tony sat in earlier. The Billionaire had a huge satisfied grin on his face. “Told you.”

 Bruce gripped (Y/N)’s legs and pulled them over his shoulder as he sat in front of her, face to face with her dripping pussy. He licked his lips at the sight and pressed gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs and sucked a mark on his own into her skin, adding to the many Tony had already left there.

 The first touch of his tongue on her clit let her hips bucked up as an embarrassing loud moan left her lips. Already so worked up from all the teasing she had to endure from Tony, (Y/N) knew it wouldn’t take long until she came.

 The first thing she noticed when Bruce circled her clit with the tip of his tongue was that he was much gentler than Tony. Bruce took his time to drag his tongue from her clit down to her hole, pressing it into her entrance to get more of her juices.

 Automatically (Y/N)’s hands left their position from above her head, she wanted to tangle them into his hair but as soon as she lowered them, Tony gripped her wrists and held them down beside her head before he leaned down to her. “What did I say, baby? You don’t get to touch. You’re lucky it’s Bruce between your legs because I would have stopped now.” His voice was low as he murmured those words.

 (Y/N) whimpered, and even though she knew she wouldn’t succeed, she tried to wiggle her hands free from Tony’s grasp. He just chuckled and tightened his grip. Bruce didn’t notice what they were doing. He was too occupied to wiggle his tongue around her clit as he pressed one of his fingers into her. (Y/N)’s back arched at the sudden intrusion, a moan of his name left her lips as she clenched around him. Bruce groaned at the feeling and at the thought what it would feel like if it was his cock instead of his fingers, he imagined it to be heavenly.

 He set a steady pace and dragged the tip of his fingers against her soft walls, searching for the spot that would make her toes curl. The breathless moan and how her legs tightened around him were clear indications that he had found it. He grinned a little and concentrated his actions on it after he pressed a second finger into her. Crooking his finger in a come-hither motion while he sucked harshly on her clit drew not only endless moans out of her but her orgasm too.

  “Fuck… fuck… fuck… BRUUCE!” Bruce moaned and quickly switched position so he could press his tongue into her instead, his fingers drew quick circles on her clit, prolonging her orgasm. (Y/N)’s hips jerked as he didn’t let up, his moans as her juices hit his tongue vibrated through her whole body. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and she tried to wiggle away from his hungry mouth, but Tony’s grip on her wrists as well as Bruce’s grip on her hips stopped her from doing so.

 “Don’t be rude, baby. Let him have everything you got. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” In this moment, (Y/N) wanted to slap the arrogant smirk off Tony’s face, but she could barely think straight as Bruce’s tongue wiggled inside of her. The obscene slurping sound and the dirty groans that sounded from between her legs weren’t helping her either.

 A fine layer of sweat formed on her body, her thighs twitched uncontrollably as she could feel another orgasm build in the pit of her stomach. Right as her walls began to tighten again, Bruce pulled back from her body. She whined disappointed at the denied release. Her mouth went slack as he saw Bruce’s face drenched in her juices. “Fuck…” Tony let go of her wrists and helped her to sit up, pressing gentle kisses to her neck and shoulders. “You did so good, baby. Look how happy you made him.”

 (Y/N) smiled a little at the whispered praise, her breathing was still uneven.

The sudden need to feel Bruce’s lips against hers shot through her body. She scooted closer to him and, finally, tangled her hands in his hair, tugging him to her to press a kiss to his lips. His response was immediate and not at all as hesitant as (Y/N) had thought. But on the other hand, he had already made her cum with his tongue, so a kiss isn’t a big deal anymore.

 Bruce was surprisingly dominant during the kiss and harshly pressed his tongue into her mouth so she could taste herself. He tugged on her lip as he broke the kiss. “What do you want?” His voice sounded breathy as it whispered against her lips and as (Y/N) looked into his eyes, she could see a faint green hue in them.

 “Fuck me.” A groan rumbled in his chest. Tony was still watching the scene from the other side of the desk, an amused expression on his face. Bruce tugged his shirt from his body as (Y/N)’s hands dropped to his pants, opening it before she let them pool around his feet. She lightly gripped his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers, rubbing over the bulge with her palm. Bruce crashed their lips together again and moaned into the kiss as (Y/N) pushed his boxers down and began to stroke his hard cock.

 With every drag upwards, (Y/N)’s thumb swept over his sensitive tip. She collected the few drops of pre-cum on her finger and licked it off of it when they broke the kiss. Bruce’s eyes dilated as he watched her suck her own finger into her mouth. Another groan came from his mouth and he pushed her back down onto the table. In this angle, her head hung over the edge of the table and she was greeted with the glorious sight of Tony’s already leaking cock. She didn’t know when he had lost his pants, and honestly, she didn’t care one bit. She just needed them to fuck her raw.

 Both of the men took a hold of their hard cocks. Tony traced (Y/N)’s lips with his tip, biting his lip as she whimpered softly when Bruce rubbed his dick between her wet fold, soaking himself with her juices. “You gonna take us both, baby? Let me fuck your throat while Brucie fucks your little pussy?”

 Tony chuckled at her eager nod and how she tried to reach his cock with her tongue, but he quickly withdrew it. “Don’t pout baby. We will give it to you real good.” He stroked her cheek with one finger and lifted his eyes to Bruce’s face. He was flushed, his breathing was ragged as he prodded at (Y/N)’s hole with the tip of his cock, not quite pushing in yet.

 Tony briefly squinted his eyes at him. “Hey, Bruce? Just so you know; I would appreciate it if you didn’t hulk out and split her in half. I want to keep her.” Bruce threw him an annoyed look. “I won’t. Shut up.” Tony smirked at his remark and directed his next words to (Y/N). “Open up, baby.”

 He circled her lips with the head of his cock and as soon as she opened her mouth; he pushed inside. (Y/N) moaned at his flavor hit her tongue and began to eagerly suck him down her throat. In the angle her head was hanging, Tony could push into her much easier and did just that until he hit the back of her throat. He moaned loudly when she swallowed around him.

   Bruce watched them for a moment before he licked his lips and pressed his tip into her empty hole. Both Bruce and (Y/N) moaned at the feeling. The vibration of her moan sent shock-waves through Tony’s body, making him groan as he tossed his head back.

 Bruce bottomed out quickly and immediately set a steady pace to thrust into her. “Shit..” He grabbed her legs and put them over his shoulders, driving into her harder after just a short amount of time. (Y/N)’s breasts were bouncing with every of his thrusts, which forced even more groans from the man on both ends of her.

 Every time Tony pulled out of her mouth. Bruce pushed back in, never leaving her empty. “Fuck, you look so good, (Y/N). So fucking pretty getting fucked on both ends.” Tony’s voice was breathy as his thrusts into her mouth lost their rhythm, he knew he wouldn’t last long with how greedy (Y/N) sucked his head whenever she could. As she cupped his balls with one hand and softly massaged them, an animalistic groan fell from Tony’s lips, his knees buckled slightly and he had to steady himself with his hands on the edge of the desk. 

 All the while Bruce’s thrusts into her got harder. The tip of his cock constantly dragged over the soft patch inside of her wet cavern, pushing her dangerously close to her release. One of his hands gripped her hips and pressed them down to hold her still as the other wandered over every inch of skin he could reach. He pinched one of her nipples before his hand wandered down over her stomach right between her legs. He started to circle her clit with his thumb which made her hips jerk harder as a loud moan fell from her lips, but it was muffled against Tony’s cock.

 And this was Tony’s undoing. The vibration of her moan sent him right over the edge. Thick ropes of cum shot into (Y/N)’s mouth and she swallowed eagerly everything he gave her. She didn’t let go of his cock until she sucked the last drop out of him, moaning the whole time at his familiar salty taste.

 Tony had to withdraw from her as oversensitivity set in. He grabbed a nearby chair and slumped down in it, but he stayed in his position by her head and smiled lazily at her in pleasure contorted face. A drop of his release hung on her lip and he picked it up with his finger and slid it into her mouth as she opened it to moan. She sucked on his finger and swirled her tongue around his digit. “So. Fucking. Good.” He leaned down and kissed her messily. It was a bit awkward since she still hung head over from the table.

 They broke the kiss as Bruce gripped her arms and tugged her into a sitting position. He slung her legs around his waist, hammering harder into her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re so fucking tight. Feels so good clenching around my cock.” His sentence ended with a breathy groan as her walls hugged him so tightly. Another kiss was shared, his tongue thrusting into her mouth the same way his cock did. The slapping sound of skin on skin got louder by the second, as did her pleasured moans.

 “Bruce… please, make me cum. Wanna cum around your cock.” A deep grumble echoed in the room as Bruce’s thumb found its way back to her clit to rub furious circles around it as he somehow pounded even harder into her. His face was twisted in concentration and his hips stuttered for a moment as a very prominent vein in his neck popped out. A very prominent green vein.

(Y/N) noticed it but she was too far gone to be concerned, right at the verge of an orgasm she had only her release in mind. Tony, on the other hand, was very much concerned as he watched how Bruce’s skin became a green hue.

 “Bruce?! Get your shit together!” He jumped up from his seat and walked around the desk where Bruce stood, but right before he made it to the other side, Bruce thrusted one more time into her. Hard. And pushed her right over the edge. She screamed his name and buried her face in his neck as she clawed at his back with one hand, the other pulled on his hair. The clenching of her walls threw him over as well. He pressed her harder against his body, still thrusting shallowly into her to ride out their orgasms as a pornographic moan tore out of his throat.

 Tony tugged her quickly away from Bruce and gathered her boneless body in his arms, throwing an angry look in his direction as he sat down in a chair. He pulled her tightly against his chest and pressed little kisses to her hair, still glaring at Bruce who slumped back down into a chair. “What did I tell you? No hulking out!” Bruce was still breathing heavily and stroked a hand down his face. “I… I’m sorry, ok? I got carried away.”

 “Carried away?” Tony’s voice was hard, almost yelling as he threw daggers at Bruce. “Carried away? You could have kil…!” He was interrupted as (Y/N) took his jaw into her hand and turned his face towards hers. She pressed a loving kiss to his lips, tangling their tongues together as she stroked his cheek. “Everything is fine, Tony. Please don’t yell at Bruce.” Tony’s jaw was clenched as he glanced on more time at his friend. “I love you, Tony.” His expression softened immediately at her words and he pressed another kiss to her lips. “I love you, too. Let’s go to bed now.”

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