#you fuckers will pay for your imagined crimes

[wheels-of-despair]

Revenge of the Freaks Summary: The Hellfire Club does April Fool's Day a little differently. Contains: Sweet revenge, don't try this at home. Words: 1k-ish Note: Part of my Evil Woman universe, but more of a Hellfire story than an explicit Eddie pairing. Can be read as a standalone.

Everybody expects to get pranked on April Fool's Day.

Everyone, everywhere, is suspicious of everything. Especially at Hawkins High. Even the cafeteria ladies get side-eyed when students pick up their trays, wondering if there's a little something extra in their pudding today. No one touches the salt and pepper shakers. No one accepts any gifts. Don't even bother trying to share your food. Check the toilet for plastic wrap before you use it. Beware the sink. For 24 hours, everyone is on high alert.

Because everyone is expecting to get pranked on April 1st.

They are not, however, expecting to get pranked on April 2nd.

As your April Fool's Day prank for the Hellfire table, you brought in cookies.

Not toothpaste Oreos. Those are a waste of both toothpaste and cookies. (Although nobody would've complained about being the designated Eater of the Creme Filling.)

Your April Fool's Day Cookies contained M&M's, Reese's Pieces, and Skittles. It counted as a prank because nobody was sure exactly what they were biting into, other than a circle of butter and sugar. But they were actually quite good. You passed them around, and you all shared a laugh and a few cookies. In case anyone was watching.

On April 2nd, when everyone let their guards down and thought they were safe again, Hellfire would strike.

People would suspect Eddie. Eddie was loud and lively and definitely stood out. The rest of you? Unless someone was looking for a punching bag, you all seemed to sort of fade into the background.

You'd be using this to your advantage.

You'd been plotting for months, and finally had a game plan in place.

For Jackie, who asked out Gareth on a dare and burst out laughing when he stuttered through his nervous response, a locker full of dead ladybugs. You'd found a pile of them in the attic and didn't want them to go to waste, so you swept them into a plastic bag and kept them for a special occasion. Showing her what a lady looked like seemed like a good one.

For Chip and his fancy new car, which he nearly ran over Jeff with while revving obnoxiously and laughing with his friends, a piece of bologna on the hood. It would fry in the sun during the school day and leave a marvelously discolored circle there, until his daddy paid to get it fixed. Until then, someone might throw out the phrase "asshole-mobile" a few times and hope it stuck.

For Brandon, who drew unflattering caricatures of Grant on the blackboard in first period every day for a week before he lost interest, a mouse trap would find its way into his backpack. A thoughtful gift for his creative hands. No idea how it got there.

For Troy, who successfully tripped Mike into Lucas one day and attempted to stuff Dustin into a locker the next, tiny bits of chocolate would appear on his chair. (The smaller the pieces, the faster they melt.) The boys had told you about a similar kind of incident with Troy in middle school, and you didn't want to ruin his reputation.

For Ashley, who took credit for spreading the rumor that you were spreading your legs for all of the freaks in town, a very professional-looking letter from the Hawkins Free Clinic would arrive at her house to inform her that she had a venereal disease. Several pamphlets on safe sex were included.

For Mrs. O'Donnell, whose hatred of Eddie seemed to intensify by the day, a loose screw on her desk chair. It would be a real shame if she were to fall on her ass so hard, it broke the stick that had been up it since 1962.

For Jason, who was generally unpleasant to you all, tiny balloons that appeared to be haunting him. Everywhere he went, a tiny balloon or two would appear on the ground nearby. This puzzled everyone, until somebody loudly suggested that he had to use those because regular condoms were too big for him. Wonder who that could have been.

And for the rest of the basketball team, something special to show your appreciation for the way they ruled both the court and the school. Let's go, Tigers.

A few weeks ago, you and Eddie had taken a little trip to a pharmacy two towns over and bought the cheapest, worst-smelling perfume you could find. It was the kind of perfume that an old lady in a fake fur coat might wear to Bingo on Wednesday nights at the VFW. The kind of smell that made you wish the stench of moth balls in her clothes was a little stronger, to help overpower it.

The Hawkins High gym lockers are more open than the lockers in the hallway. Instead of the standard slats on the top and bottom, there's a wire grate to allow for better airflow. Nobody likes a pile of sweaty teenage gym clothes. Just a few pumps of spray into the grate would have their letterman jackets smelling so bad, it was like a warning system. A Jock Alarm, if you will. You'd always be able to smell them coming, because that stuff wasn't ever going to come out.

Eddie spent all of his free time that day in the library, on his best behavior, under the watchful eye of the stern librarian. He was a good boy, just trying to work quietly on his English essay so he could graduate. She would attest to this, if asked, because he gave her a dandelion when he came in and smiled at her every time he got up to sharpen his pencil near her desk.

The recipients of your little gifts may have had their suspicions, but they couldn't prove a thing. No one paid attention to the nameless, faceless freaks of Hawkins High. No one batted an eye when a two-minute trip to the bathroom actually took eight. Or when an unfamiliar face passed through a hallway it had no classes in. Or when someone changed their shirt between periods because it suddenly smelled like an old lady.

After all, why would anyone want to prank people on April 2nd?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Here’s a Jason idea for you: imagine a criminal he’s fighting as Red Hood suddenly mentions you, by name, to mess with Jason. Jay would absolutely obliterate the criminal, but that leaves the question of how his enemies know about you… I love the potential for angst/protective Jason 😍 Also, I love your writing so much, it always makes my day to see you on my feed! Thank you for sharing your writings 💞🥰

Tw: blood and violent stuff.

Also thank you for enjoying my stuff! It’s really appreciated and makes me wanna write a lot more in the future. It’s just nice being reminded that people do like the stuff that I put out and not hate it as much as I do when looking back on them.🤣 🦦

A well placed punch to the face landed the criminal flat on his back as he groaned upon impact and was currently struggling to get back up to his feet, only to be pinned by a heavy combat boot weighing down on his chest. Finally Jason had caught up with the drug dealer that had been lurking near children and vulnerable adults alike for the past couple of days, and right where he wanted him too.

‘It’s such a shame that you caught me as fast as you did RedHood because just you came along, I was going to pay one last person a visit before the night was over.’ The criminal smiled, showing off his blood stained teeth in the process, his smile then became a grimace as Jason put more of his weight onto his chest. ‘Well it was a good thing that i came when I did because after tonight, you won’t be selling drugs to anyone anymore, that I can guarantee.’ Jason growled, feeling his blood boil hotter for every second that he didn’t put a bullet in this assholes head.

‘What was their name?’ The criminal trailer off, not heading Jason’s warning and throwing his head back and laughing. ‘Oh right now I remember, it’s Y/n. What a pretty name for an even prettier person.’ Jason froze at the mention of your name, his blood had gone cold but his anger skyrocketed at the insinuation of you being placed in any sort of danger. Whether it be by a drug dealer or otherwise, the same conclusion was to be expected with Jason and that was that he would personally hunt down every last thug, drug dealer and crime lord that ever dared to speak your name.

Jason wordlessly then grabbed the criminal by the collar of his shirt and threw him into a wall with all his strength. Watching on as the scumbag crumpled the floor as he then began to stalk towards him before gradually breaking out into a run and brutally ramming his knee into the criminals head. Jason wasn’t done there though, not by a long shot. He wanted the make the bastard pay for having your name come out of his filthy mouth, he wanted to tear him limb from limb, put him back together again so that he could rip him limb from limb all over again before ever giving him the satisfaction of death.

‘You will never, ever, ever bring anyone to harm ever again! Not while I’m here, not while I’m still breathing and able bodied enough to tear you fuckers to bits!’ Jason hissed pure venom as each of his punches become more and more brutal then the last, his knuckles were going to bruise like hell and hurt like hell too, but the pain and punishment he’d receive would be all worthwhile if it meant keeping you safe and sound. Jason would gladly taken on any punishment anyone could throw at him if it meant you remained unscathed, he’d happily gain more scars on his body if it meant that you could sleep easier at night, Jason always had your best interests in mind whenever he was clearing the streets of Gotham.

He was doing it for you, he was doing it for the kids at Crime Alley, he was doing it so that everyone could have a peace of mind; And he didn’t care about the methods he took to obtaining that.

It wasn’t long until the criminal stopped moving all together, Jason didn’t care that his fists were stained with blood, he just stood up and left the criminal in the alleyway where he was brutally beaten to death and headed home; to you with a heavy mind and a growing pit within his stomach because if a low life scumbag like him knew you by name…then who else did? Black mask? Penguin? Two face? Scarecrow? Carmine Falcone? He didn’t like to think about this one but does Joker know? All these thoughts running through Jason’s head didn’t do him a whole lot of good with his ever growing sense of dread and slight paranoia; He had to get to you and he had to get to you now before anything else happened before the night ended.

‘I’m coming baby, just please still be there when I get home, please don’t let them take you away from me.’ Jason muttered under his breath as he pushed himself forward as he ran from rooftops to rooftop, determined to make it to the apartment before anyone else does because if they did, may god have mercy on their souls because Jason would go to war for you and will violently cut anyone down to size if they were to come between him and you; For nothing got between you and Jason and if they did, Jason would make sure to deal with it before it became more of a problem.

‘Sweetheart? Are you in here?’ Jason called as he slammed the door behind him.

‘Jason? What’s-‘ you rushed into the room and gasped upon seeing the dried blood on his knuckles and his paling face as though he looked about to pass out where he stood. ‘Oh my god.’ You whispered as you rushed towards Jason who rushed towards you, arms out stretched to grasp your waist while your hands held his face. ‘What happened out there? I thought you said it was a simple mission.’ You said, concerned for Jason as he seemingly let out a sigh of relief and rested his forehead against yours.

‘It was meant to be a simple mission but then…’

‘Then what?’ You asked, stroking his cheeks reassuringly and feeling him melt into your touch like he did every night he came home from a long patrol or mission, but he also did it when he needed to feel you on him after waking up from a nightmare.

‘He said your name chipmunk.’ Jason squeezed his eyes shut as though he was trying to rid himself of the events that happened early on and focus on the feeling of your thumbs caressing his cheeks lovingly instead. ‘He said your name -clear as day I heard him say it- and before I knew it I was wailing on him until he stopped moving…all because he said how he was going to come for you next and I couldn’t…’ Jason paused to regulate his breathing that he hadn’t noticed had become fast and uneven the more his mind lingered on that small detail. ‘I couldn’t let him do that. I won’t let them take you from me. Never.’ He then tightens his grip on your waist as he kept uttering the extent he was willing to go to keep you in his life under his breath, almost as though it were a prayer or a promise, which ever one it was you weren’t quite sure but you let Jason squeeze you against his chest with his strong arms like a stress toy to his hearts desire.

‘It’s okay Jaybirdie. I’m right here, can’t you feel my warmth? Hear my voice? I’m right here baby. So you can squeeze me, hold me, cuddle me as much as you need to feel alright again because I’m not going anywhere with my Jaybird.’ You said loud enough for him to hear over his thoughts, pressing kisses into anywhere that you had access to, whether it be his shoulders, face, neck, forehead, you’d plant several kisses to each of those areas respectively. You may act calm but much like Jason, you too didn’t like the idea of some random criminal knowing your name. The implications of that were endless and it would be enough to put anyone on edge or even over it depending on their mental state, and to put it lightly Jason’s mental state wasn’t the healthiest.

The occasional whimper and sniff that came from him only made your heart hurt even more that you were willing to put aside your own fears about the situation to instead focus on comforting Jason, who must be feeling it ten times worse then you were, but it was the fact that in this moment you were bonded by a shared fear but that fear could be eventually overcame by the pair of you working together. ‘It’s okay baby it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere, they can’t make us because we’re stronger together.’ You spoke into the skin of his cheek as you finished pressed a thousand kisses onto them.

‘Stronger together.’ Jason echoed as he pressed himself further against you to feel you closer to him. ‘We’re stronger together.’ You smiled softly, seeing that you finally go through to him somewhat. However you were more than willing to stand in this position all night if it meant bringing Jason back from the edge within his mind because nothing was more important than having your Jason back.

‘That’s right baby.’ You cooed. ‘We’re stronger together, nothing will tear us apart.’

‘Promise?’ Jason asked looking deep into your eyes, it felt as though he was looking at you rather then through you which has your breath hitching in your throat momentarily.

‘I promise.’

[someoneimsure]

I really, really like the idea of Jason Todd being a killer.

Not a mass murderer, Jesus, but a killer.

Like deep down he really is cold blooded. If someone dies, he won’t give too much of a shit (everyone dies and he’s over it) and in some cases he’ll even laugh. Dying kind of made him treat death kind of lightly, like he knows what’s on the other side and ain’t afraid of it no more, which doesn’t help with his reckless streak but also makes him even more protective of the little kids just because it’s a fundamentally shit experience and nobody deserves that before they hit 18.

But he doesn’t go around killing just anybody who happens to have stubbed their toe on crime because he’s not stupid. He knows if any one of the vigilantes killed someone the police would be after them before Nightwing could complete a quadruple backflip because James Gordon be like that and no matter what Batman says Jason Todd don’t trust them bullies, so killing has to be a last option if he wants to actually save all the city kids one day. Other vigis are kind of necessary for that end goal.

But The Joker? That mofo would be six feet under. Every. Single. Time.

And Jason would 100% come up with some plan to make the City think it was their idea so that they would pay for it. He’s great with plans, after all, and Jason is that level of a dick when it comes to corrupt authority figures. A sort of “You didn’t even try to kill this mofo while I was gone, so now that someone with balls offers to do it for you, you can just pay them warehouses full of money for your little fuck up.”

I imagine this is the way that he re-meets Batman that first time before Batman has figured out who he is or decided he must be Taken Down. “I’m on a mission for the government, let me pass” is not the best way to greet the man who got you off the streets and doesn’t like murder at all and won’t stand for you doing such a heinous misdeed, even if you might have ultimately good intentions.

Jason Todd also may not really care too much about collateral damage but he’s also a professional and knows how to reign it in.

So, Jason would 100% kill the Joker with a crowbar because that bastard took away everything he ever had. And no, Bruce, you do not get to resuscitate him. Jason’s great at hiding bodies, and he would burn that fucker’s body so bad that the only way to ID him was by his stupid teeth and even then he’d chop him up and ship him around the world so no one would be able to find the ashes and throw them into the Lazarus Pit--and then he’d blow up every Lazarus Pit he can find for good measure.

Of course he would also mess with everyone’s heads, especially Batman’s, just for the lols and possibly because he does actually still blame Batman for not killing the Joker when he had a chance but he’s not going to do what that guy from Under the Red Hood comic did and try to get Batman to kill the Joker and/or stop Jason from doing it.

And then, after the job is done, he donates all his money to the Narrows kids who he ended up befriending while he was still a street urchin oh-so-long-ago so that they can finally go to college, something the Joker took from him, which ultimately makes it impossible for anyone to track him down ever because that money traded hands several times too fast. Plus, he really does need to start showing his good side more often because I’m starting to think canon Jason is a caricature of his original self and has completely forgotten what he’s actually supposed to be fighting for at this point.

Okay so, TL;DR, I really, really like mercenary Jason Todd who donates all his hard earn money straight to the orphans because he don’t trust a charity. But only for as long as he goes full brutal as fuck anti-hero immediately afterwards and doesn’t become a mass murderer.

But a universe where Red Hood and The Joker breath the same air simultaneous would literally explode. It simply Does Not Compute for me that canon would have both Jason Todd and The Joker on the same planet without one or the other being dead, so I can’t take any story which has a hint of both being in the universe at all seriously.

I am just now realizing that a burned up Joker corpse with a creep yellow-toothed grin will actually be giving me nightmares for the next six months. Thanks, me for being a fucked up person.

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Hello :) Welcome back to another episode of Smol Copy-Pastes A Ramble/Rant From Discord And Calls It A Tumblr Post. This week, we’ll be looking at one of my Crying Over Nishiki sessions which ALSO became a full on rant against Kazama! Whoo! Here we go, gonna be another ‘read more’ cause a) spoilers, and b) reeeeally long unhinged ranting about fictional men :D

“LOOK I COULDVE FIXED HIM, EVEN AFTER HE SLAPPED REINA, I'D HAVE BEEN LIKE 'LISTEN BBY I LOVE U IM HERE FOR U BUT GET YOUR ASS BACK OVER THERE RIGHT NOW AND APOLOGISE TO REINA!!!!!'

BUT NOOOOOO EVERYONE JUST HAD TO DECIDE TO BE A HUGE BITCH TO HIM AND BECAUSE THE DUMBASS LASHED OUT AT ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE HE HAD LEFT AND PROBABLY FELT LIKE HE COULDNT GO BACK AND APOLOGISE CAUSE I THINK HIS SELF ESTEEM IS ALREADY LOW ENOUGH BY THEN TO NOT EVEN THINK HE DESERVES HER FORGIVENESS AND THEN YUKO FUCKING DIES BECAUSE KAZAMA IS A FUCKING SHIT DAD AND EVERYONE IS A DICK TO HIM UNPROMPTED AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

point is i want to rip Kazama's spine out with my bare hands

hate how the game acts like he's so cool and good when he's really not he failed his kids so so badly ACTUALLY NO THEYRE NOT HIS KIDS HE'S THE ENTIRE REASON THEYRE ORPHANS”

(at this point I moved to the spoilers channel to continue my Unending Kazama Hatred)

OKAY SO TIME TO SCREAM ABOUT THAT MOTHERFUCKER KAZAMA AND HOW THE GAME SUCKS HIS DICK do you have ANY idea how much i hated when they go to Tojo HQ so Tachibana can pay em to leave his sugar baby alone and the old fucker who weve never seen before is like 'u know i'd have paid a billion yen for Kazama when he was ur age. are u worth that much? are u as good as him?' LISTEN HERE CUNT HE IS A BETTER MAN THAN KAZAMA EVER WAS AND EVER WILL BE!!!!!!!

WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHIN SEEING AS HE'S REALLY ANNOYING IN THIS GAME like okay i get it Kazama is a yakuza and ex-hitman i EXPECT him to have done bad shit and it's very nice he set up the orphanage n all but it also isnt cause like bro you murdered these kids parents!!! and idk anythin about their life in the orphanage i'll admit but as an active yakuza i cannot imagine him being the most hands-on, tender, loving parent ever, yknow? ALSO ALSO like i know he tried to stop Kiryu and Nishiki becomin yakuza im just saying YA COULDVE TRIED HARDER MATE!!!! THEY WERE SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD, THEY WERE CHILDREN FOR GOD'S SAKE. KIRYU WAS LIKE 'WHY WONT U LET US BE LIKE U YOURE A YAKUZA U GET A COOL CAR AND PEOPLE RESPECT U LET US TRY AND HAVE THAT' YOURE LETTING HIM SELL HIS SOUL TO A LIFE OF CRIME BECAUSE HE WANTS A FUCKING CAR?????? I DONT CARE HOW STRONG THEY WERE IN THAT FIGHT YA FUCKIN SIT THEM DOWN AND GET RID OF THE ILLUSION OF GLAMOUR!!!!! TELL THEM THEYRE WORTH MORE THAN JUST GRUNTS WHO ARE GOOD WITH THEIR FISTS AND NOT MUCH ELSE, ONE FIGHT IN THE RAIN AND YOURE LETTING THEM JOIN, ABSOLUTELY FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH THAT 

AND THEN HE'S SHOVING THEM OFF TO ANOTHER FAMILY BECAUSE OF SOME POLITICAL BULLSHIT IDK BUT FINE FAIR ENOUGH YA DONT WANNA PLAY FAVOURITES BUT I FUCKING HATE THIS WHOLE 'OH SEEMS DISTANT AND UNCARING BUT ACTUALLY HE THOUGHT OF EVERYTHING AND HAS THEIR WELLBEING IN MIND' I JUST- JUST FUCK OFF!!!!!! 

MAYBE YA SHOULD PLAY FAVOURITES WHEN ONE OF YOUR CHARGES IS DYING VERY QUICKLY AND HER BROTHER HAS NO ONE FOR SUPPORT. INSTEAD OF FUCKIN LETTING THE GUY THEY APPARENTLY SEE AS BIG BROTHER FUCKING REPRIMANDING THE GUY CAUSE HE CANT GET CONTROL OF OR RESPECT FROM THE PEOPLE YOU ASSIGNED HIM AND SEEMINGLY KNEW THEYD BE DIFFICULT!!!!! HOW IS MY BOY MEANT TO ""PROVE HIMSELF"" WHEN HES DEALING WITH THE TRAUMA OF TAKING A LIFE (EVEN IF THE FUCKER HAD IT COMING), THE GUILT OF LETTING HIS BEST FRIEND TAKE THE FALL, AN ACT OF PURE KINDNEES IN CONTRAST TO HIS OWN BRUTAL IRREVERSIBLE ONE, THE STRESS OF TRYING TO SAVE HIS SISTER WHO IS DYING (MAYBE CONTRIBUTE SOME EXTRA CASH KAZAMA??? MAYBE???) AND DEALING THE AFOREMENTIONED DISRESPECTFUL FUCKERS AND LASHING OUT AND HURTING THE ONE PERSON HE HAS LEFT AND BURNING THAT BRIDGE, AND THE GIRL HE KILLED A MAN FOR HAS LOST HER MEMORY AND VANISHED (WHICH YOU HELPED WITH KAZAMA!!! YOU KNEW SHE WAS SAFE!!!!), 

AND THEN THE GRIEF OF LOSING HIS SISTER FOR NO. FUCKING. PURPOSE. HE SOLD OUT HIS REMANING MORALS, HIS PRIDE, ANY RESPECT OTHERS MAY HAVE HAD FOR HIM ALL TO SAVE HER AND IT FAILED. HE WENT THROUGH ALL OF THAT ALONE. YEAH I'D HAVE FUCKIN TURNED EVIL AS WELL!!!!!!!

im not sayin Nishiki is fully free of blame, obviously, he made his choices, and murdering Reina after using her love for him to further his own ends AND killing Shinji and ALL of the shit he pulls in Kiwami, yeah, completely fucked up, horrible, his choices, he did that shit. im just saying that i dont know, maybe if ya wanted to step in at any point in the last ten fucking years Kazama (preferably before that too), ya couldve and fuckin SHOULDVE”

I’ll be honest with ya lads, I stand by every word of this cfvgbhnjkgvbhnj

[inkandguns]

If someone isn’t wearing their seatbelt but dies in a car wreck we go meh.

I feel the same way about these shooting victims to some degree. He got that many shots off without anyone shooting back? A fuck ton of violent crime has happened at bowling alleys, yet every parent there said, “nah I’ll just go here and pray nothing bad happens”.

Yeah, shootings are horrible. But imagine if we treated driving the same way. “Oh what a horrible tragedy that a drunk driver swerved off a cliff!!!”

Fuck, these people need to be stopped. The way to stop them is killing them. The world is a violent place and things like this happen ALL THE TIME.

And now of course your democrat friends want to strip your human rights.

If you love something you need to protect it. Simple as. Fucking parents. The guys who knew this dude was crazy could have staked out his house too - nothing illegal about that. But the entire community just went about their soft ass lives, just wishing nothing bad would ever happen.

No more thoughts and prayers for me. Just like car accidents I’m gonna say, “you should have been paying attention”. Only weak, beta fuckers let their family go out without protection. The men of this community really let it down here, including the shooter. So many examples of pure toxic masculinity here.

[lucyhalearchive]

You Know Him? (E.B.)

This is something that just randomly came to me, and I don’t know why it did really. I was just doing history homework, and it showed up. I’m going to be doing a fic rec soon, so look out for that!

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of a gun and death. reader gets threatened by a criminal. dangling over oncoming traffic. heights????

“Eddie, I’m fine! I told you that I was going to pick up this order, and then I’d be on the way home.” You sigh into the phone while walking down the street towards your favorite coffee shop. Every few weeks, you will place an order for a few bags to keep in you and Eddie’s apartment because you swear that the stores don’t even compare. 

“I just worry about you. You know what crime is like in this area.” He mumbles out, and you can hear a crashing of pots in the background. 

“Eddie, tell her to pick up that chocolate from the store down the street.” Venom interjects. You smile at his desperate request, but you can practically see Eddie rolling his eyes and pushing the symbiote away. 

“I’ll try my best, V.” You promise, hanging up before Eddie could protest to you going out of your way to get Venom chocolate he’ll eat in under five seconds. 

The store’s warm when you walk in, and you can’t help but take in the scent of coffee lingering in the air. As you wait in line, you notice someone sitting in a booth seat, head down. Your gut starts to feel as though it’s trying to pull you out of the door, but you push it down as the cashier calls you up to the register. 

“Hi, I had an order of coffee grounds for pick-up?” You explain to her, and she nods before disappearing into the back. You lean against the counter and watch the cars pass on the road in front of the coffee shop. However, your eyes shift back to the man in the corner who is now looking at you. His skin is pale, and there is a slight stubble showing. You start to bounce your leg and hope that the woman comes out soon. 

Just as she enters the main room again, the man starts to stand up and walk out of the door. Relieved, you thank the cashier and walk towards the door, and as you walk, you put your head down to place the coffee in a tote bag you brought with you, not paying attention to the door being held open for you. 

As soon as the cold air hit your face, someone grabs you, pinning your arm behind your back. The wrap and arm around your throat to hold a gun to your head. He leans his head down to whisper in your ear. 

“That boyfriend of yours isn’t here is he? You’re nothing without that symbiote.” He snarls, and people on the street begin to either record or call the police. You let out cries but try to calm yourself by imagining Eddie sitting at your apartment with Venom waiting for his chocolate. Next thing you know, the man pushes you forward, holding onto you with one hand by the back of your jacket. You're face to face with the road, and when you turn your head, you see a few cars entering the city. 

“Please! What do you even want with me?” You desperately call out to him while trying to get out of the road, but you can feel the barrel of the gun touch the back of your skull. 

“I want that symbiote your boyfriend has.” He accentuates the end of his sentence by pushing the gun closer to your head, if it could even be closer. 

“Well, I don’t keep him in a jar, so what does this have to do with me?” You cry. The man just laughs, and the people on the sidewalks just look in horror. 

“I want you to call him and get him down here. I know the fucker’s weakness.” He puts the gun down for just a moment to reach into your back pocket. He takes his time reaching into the pocket with a snicker before pulling it out and handing it to you, the gun coming back to your head. 

You rush to dial Eddie’s number, but just as it begins to ring, you’re snatched from the man’s hand, eyes closing. You wrap your arms around the figure carrying you, and when you reopen your eyes, your feet above the ground on a completely different side of town. You let out a scream.

“Put me down! Put me down!” You yell, and you hide your face in your savior’s chest. After a few seconds, your feet touch the ground, and you slowly back away from the figure. However, you are not met with the sidewalk. Instead, you are on top of an apartment complex. 

“When I said put me down, I didn’t mean on top of a building!” You look down off the side of the building. You can barely make out the cars because of how small they are. Turning to go yell at whoever put you up here, you pause. 

“Spiderman?” You stand in awe at the masked man in front of you. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about flying you around, but I had to get you out of there because, well, you know.” He stutters out, scratching the back of his mask. 

“Well, thank you, but can you get me down?” Again, you look out onto the city. Spiderman walks over to you to look as well. 

“I can. Where do you want me to take you?” He turns to you with an extended hand, and just as you're about to take it, you can hear loud banging coming from the side of the building. Just then, Venom’s figure shoots above the two of you before landing onto the surface. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Spiderman complains while getting in front of you. As he and Venom stare at each other, you push past him to walk towards V. 

“How did you find me?” You look at Venom with a raised brow, but he continues to look at Spiderman behind you. 

“Eddie tracked you with his phone. He told me where to go.” His voice is menacing, and you try not let it get to you because you know he’s either threatened by the neighborhood Spiderman or wondering who he is. 

“You know him?” The same nervous voice of the spider perks up at the casual conversation you and the symbiote are sharing. 

“You could say we’re roommates-”

“She’s ours, Spiderman.” He always sounds very articulate, you notice. The wind picks up, and you visibly shiver. 

“V, I just want to go home.” You suggest. Venom takes a minute before looking down at you. Sensing your discomfort, he gets you to crawl onto his back, oily skin meshing with yours. You wonder if Eddie can feel your knees sinking into his back. 

“Thanks again, Spidey!” You cheerfully remind him even though he appears to be a rival of Venom’s. Does that make Venom the bad guy if the hero, Spiderman, does not like him? Is it just one sided?

When you all make it home, you walk away quickly from the pair, placing the coffee grounds in the cabinet. Eddie notices you frantically picking up the mess in the kitchen. 

“What?” It’s simple, but it’s a start.

“How do you know him? Are you the bad guy, Eddie?” You press, stepping closer to him. 

“No, I’m not the bad guy. It’s a long, convoluted story. Just know that we are not the bad guys.” Eddie grabs your hands, and you can see Venom seeping out to wrap around your hands as well. Taking a deep breath, you lean up to give him a short kiss on the lips. 

“How about I run a bath, and you tell me this story?” You whisper as you slowly back away from the kiss. He looks confused for a moment before you quirk up your brow at him, a wicked smile on your lips. Eddie let's an audible gasp. He pushes you towards the bathroom with an excited walk. 

From your window, however, a certain neighborhood spider sits on the fire escape watching the interaction.

///

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 1- She Ran With Wolves

Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader Series Re-write (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: You’re a survivor, always have been and always will be. After narrowly escaping the clutches of Hydra years ago, you’ve been keeping to the shadows for as long as time allows. With Hydra suddenly exposed and your secrets in the open, you’re on the hunt for the last part of your past, but is he ready to see you again?

Warning: angst, talk of violence, some fluff mixed in (a little); way more to come

Masterlist

Side note- This is a TFATWS Series Re-write!!! Obviously lol, anyways. Readers powers are heavily inspired by a certain Marvel badass and I just thought her powers would work so well for this. Also they’re cool as fuck.

September, 15th 2013

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington D.C.

This recent project Fury had sent her on was beginning to make itself quit the annoyance for Natasha this past of couple weeks, granted he always gave her the toughest assignments, understanding that no one else can dig up as much dirt as the Black Widow can.

But this? This was different, the target in question was practically a ghost, a legend among the ones lucky, or possibly unlucky enough to have been made aware of this dangerous individual. But no matter how much she asked around from her various secretive resources on the problem in question, this mystery person was simply just rumor to them. Or perhaps too much of a sour subject to seek into any further. Although one thing was always prevalent, people were scared.

But why?

The assassin leans back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing over her features as she stares bitterly down at the top secret file gifted to her by Fury himself. Suddenly a door closes, she shuts the file in an instant, only to be greeted with the apologetic face of Steve as he walks past her.

“Sorry. Fury told me you would be in here.” Begins Steve as he takes the nearby couch, something small and metal in his right hand, “Said you were assigned some impossible case. How’s it going so far?”

Letting out a jaded sigh, she shifts her gaze over to the window, “The absolute vagueness of this person is....frustrating to say the least. All I’ve been able to gather is that they’ve been part of some top secret experimentation on pregnant women. Somehow they’re involved with it....I just, gotta figure out how.” She adds with a conflicted expression dancing across her features.

Steve hums in thought, “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” Mutters Natasha unenthusiastically as her green irises shift back down to the annoying little file.

Steve palms the object in his hand before gaining his friends attention once again, “Here. Fury told me to give this to you.” Her brows furrow in thought as she reaches over and quickly accepts the strange hard drive looking object, “I think this will help. It has the location of the target and who they are. That’s it.....Well, the last reported location.”

“How did he?” She wonders aloud, face suddenly breaking out into an irked grin, “Fury you son of a bitch, about time I found a legitimate lead.”

——

Sitting on her comfortable apartment couch, Natasha sifts through the various encrypted files from the hard drive that’s currently plugged into her laptop. So far she’s spent about two hours breaking through the various encrypted file blockers and now at long last has finally made some real progress.

Studying the brightly glowing screen, she moves her finger, clicking another coded link that reads -V13X11- she’s immediately greeted with a black screen and the slightly blurred picture of a woman’s face who’s looking rather stoic and fearless against the camera flash. Her eyes are set and hard as stone, dark and almost angry behind lips that show the ghost of a forced smile. She’s noticeably an overall attractive woman, in kind of a terrifying and intimidating sort of way, like looking at a fierce lioness standing valiantly against a foe; nonetheless she stares defiantly at the person behind the camera. 

Her eye color, weight, date of birth, and presumably patient number, that's printed in big bold letters 00X13 on the glowing screen, right below her squared portrait. Furrowing her brows, Natasha scrolls down to see about a paragraph long of personal information given about the woman. Including, to the red heads tremendous surprise, a birth name, Y/N Valerious.

Oddly enough, the name indeed sounds a tad bit familiar, though she can’t quit place from where.

The file states that she was raised in a facility on the outskirts of Surinda, Russia; someplace in Siberia, close to the heart of the mammoth country. Trained by the organization Hydra and summitted into inhuman experimentation by the specific facility that held her, however the rest is all encrypted and impossible to translate into something comprehensible much to Natasha’s utter disappointment. 

Huffing in frustration, she slips out the hard drive before shutting down her laptop and slamming it shut. The room is darker by now with the sun gone, and tomorrow it appears that Natasha will be off to Sweden to confront this woman, Y/N, in hopes of gathering valuable intel into the people who created her, and any important information regarding her troubled past. 

If she’s willing to comply.

——

Closing your laptop, you stand and wander over to the opened window to stretch before taking a deep breath of freshly brisk winter air. The land here in Uppsala, Sweden is more beautiful and peaceful then you could have ever imagined since renting an apartment two months ago. In fact, this is probably the longest you’ve ever stayed in one spot since abandoning the life of an assassin many years ago.

Though you know it won’t be much longer until you leave again, but you can’t just yet, there happens to be a certain agent on her way to find you. Fury unknowingly received your encrypted hard drive with opened arms, foolishly under the impression it was sent from an old friend when he reached out for answers into your complicated history. Then when the Black Widow eventually clicked open your link, bam, you could see everything she was nosily sifting through. Everything you wanted her to see. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if something dramatic happened to the people over in D.C. at this point, idiots, all of them.

For the past couple years S.H.I.E.L.D has become sort of a troubling snooping nuisance for you, constantly delving their way into your relatively uneventful lifestyle every couple of months, meddling around to figure out if you’re still currently active for Hydra and if not, are you willing to pay for your crimes or to join them like she did. Definitely not on your to do list any time soon.

Watching as a small black bird zips by, you quickly shut your window and close the dark colored curtains to block yourself from the rest of the chaotic world. Hastily making your usual rounds about the apartment to be absolutely certain all the possible openings are locked. Soon after you head for bed, ready to face the ex-assassin whenever she arrives in the following days ahead.

-

Seated at your kitchen table, you casually sip at your steaming hot tea while watching security footage from downstairs from when you hacked into their system, the same night you began renting the place. As expected, the notorious red head slips her way into the building and up the four flights of stairs until finally a light knock is heard at your old wooden door.

So she wants to do this cleanly.

Switching off the device, you stuff it in a nearby drawer before calmly walking down the tiny hallway over to the frontdoor and opening it, lock off and all. Her green eyes blink in curious surprise as you show her no indications of aggression; she’s about your height if not maybe slightly smaller, thick scarf and a winters coat about her person as she holds a normal sized black bag in her right hand. No doubt a gun concealed somewhere close, a light precaution in case things go south from here.

Trailing your wary gaze from her travel bag to her pale face, you raise an intrigued brow, “I assume you’re here for me?” You ask with the tinge of a confident Eastern European accent as she slowly nods, eyes calculated and calm as she studies your mellow yet slightly defensive stance.

Pursing plush lips together, she casually shrugs with a light hearted smile, “I only realized you must have sent that hard drive when I arrived in London...”

“Well I’ve gotten rather bored running away from your persistent bastards over in America.” You interrupt before opening up your door even wider, gifting her an open invitation instead of a fight, “Come in. I assume we have much to discuss.”

Following you to the table, she sets her bag on the closest chair as you take another sip from your tea. Cautious eyes trained on her every move as she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair, “So, I assume you’re not here to sell me that pretty bag of yours. Not that I’d want it.”

She smirks at your blunt sarcasm, pleased to know you’ve at least got a sense of humor after all you’ve endured, “No. I’m here to learn about who created you and if there are any more. Y/N, I’m well aware of how dangerous you truly are...but given the fact that you’ve had time to adjust, and let me into your home willingly. I came seeking answers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Folding your hands together, you tilt your head at her thoughtfully, “Well that’s good. I didn’t really want killing the Black Widow on my conscience, though I’d speculate a few would be relieved.” You quip with a playful smirk before your face turns serious again, “I’ll tell you about the fuckers who made me. Then you leave and never bother me again. Understood?” You add in almost a growl.

Handing you a polite smile, she nods in agreement, “Of course. You have my word.” You take another sip of your tea as she reaches into her bag, a beige file suddenly plants itself atop your kitchen table. “This is the only surviving file on you. It’s enough, but there’s too many cracks that need to be filled. I need to know how they conducted the experiments and who else survived them. This is important for the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D and the rest of the world. Y/N, we’re trying to make sure something like this can never happen again. And well, any secrets on Hydra always helps.”

Setting your cup down, you smirk, “This should be filled with liquor if I’m going to be spilling some top secret Hydra business of this velocity.” You muse, setting aside your mug, your face quickly shifts to a more serious expression. “For starters this isn’t a very heartwarming story.”

“Neither is mine.” Begrudgingly admits the ex-assassin.

“Well, at least we have something in common then, Black Widow.” You assert with a pointed look before leaning back against the barred wood of your chair, thinking of where to start first. Your eyes trail over to the window as you begin your story, “This place, where they kept us. The scientists working for Hydra wanted to test out special DNA altering serums on the embryos of willing participants. Well, we weren’t willing....but they targeted the poor, feigning a program that would pay these mothers-to-be thousands if they participated. Plus a comfortable place to stay for awhile.” You reveal before taking another sip of your tea, “You see, I’m not originally from Russia, my home was some nameless village in Eastern Europe that I’ve forgotten the name of by now, it was so long ago. But anyways, I guess fate has a funny way of administering it’s business to the ones seeking safety in times of struggle. So my mother...” You take another sip of your tea to help clear your throat and head a little bit, God you hate talking about this.

Setting it down again, you continue, “Mine accepted. They took her and twenty-two others to this facility deep in the woods. This place was practically a paradise for them...” You chuckle miserably, “soon enough the scientists pumped them full of drugs and began their altering of the embryos DNA, genetic codes, and whatever else they saw fit to mess with. Nine months later we came into this world kicking and screaming.”

“Shit.” Mutters Natasha in astonishment, fully engrossed in your story as she starts to realize maybe her upbringing wasn’t as fucked as yours.

“They monitored us for the first few months, waiting to see if anyone acted strange....nothing, to their utter disappointment. Soon they drew blood samples and as it turned out, we all had altered DNA from the serum. Just as they’d planned.”

Her brows furrow in puzzlement before she asks, “How’d you get your powers then? I don’t think I missed anything.” Insists your guest questionably as you shake your head.

“You didn’t. But you have to understand that as we grew older, all of us basically became tiny super soldiers as fucked as that is, not only did they change our genetic code for meddling with later on when we got older. But this serum was so well developed that it completely fused with the fetuses genetic code, only causing us to grow stronger as we aged from toddlers to three-year-old's and up. Testing even revealed that it slowed down our ageing process just like with Captain America. But it wouldn’t be effective till we reached our mid to late twenties.”

Natasha takes a moment to process your words before she nods in acknowledgment, “Y/N. It’s my understanding that this is a buried secret from the organization for good reason, it’s just....what year did this all take place? It’s not in any of the records I was able to dig up, not even in yours, nothing except for your date of birth.” States Natasha curiously, stopping you before you speak of anything else.

Nodding you lean your arms against the wooden table, leaning in a bit closer now, “1953, after World War ll when people where still recovering from the heavy aftermath while the Cold War was still raging on when well, you know.” Giving her a lopsided shrug, you glance from an old faded picture on the wall then back to her, “Lets just say Russia wasn’t exactly having a stellar time, nor was my mother for that matter.” You Conclude before aimlessly pursuing your lips together, “Which yes, makes me at around 60 years old. Don’t I look pretty.” You add, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Natasha’s eyes concede silent astonishment as she blinks back surprise, “Even after all these years doing what I do, meeting the people that I have. I’m still left speechless every once in awhile. Y/N I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen.” Reveals the red head honestly as her green irises flicker from your file then back up to you, a conflicted expression dancing across her features, “How did they...how did you gain your powers, aside from what the serum gave you in the process?”

An apprehensive sigh escapes freely from your lips while you lean back into the creaky old chair, a troubled look darkening your features as you avoid her intrigued gaze, “They waited until we were twelve before testing us....in the meantime we lived as normal children; learning, playing, and training to survive. You know, the typical stuff.” You add with a small breathy laugh, though no humor finds your eyes, “We had our mothers until a year before they began the experiments. But it wasn’t that terrible of a loss since they trained us to adapt to our environment and never fully depend on anyone but ourselves.....it’s sick. And I’m not even sure what they did to them, I guess I never will.”

She nods as you make a disgusted face, an acidic hatred rising in your chest at the thought of your childhood, “I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been.”

“Oh believe me, it gets better.” You joke bitterly, “In pairs of two they tested us, putting us into rooms where two doctors would strap us down and stick a needle into our skin. After that, they waited until something dramatic happened. Oh, and it sure as fuck did.” You conclude with a sneer.

Biting her lip anxiously, Natasha asks anyway, “How many survivors?”

Scoffing, you shake your head in revulsion for what those doctors did to everyone, an angry expression soon crossing your features, “One.” You sourly mutter, “All my other friends died of the new serum they gave us, either right then and there on the table, or in the following days. You see, it was supposed to blend with our altered DNA to create something powerful out of it, something beyond humans normal capabilities. It just ended up horribly mutating everyone except for me.” You whisper, clear sadness and hatred coating your very words.

Your eyes stare sharply at the peeling table top paint, a frown on your lips as you take in a deep breath before continuing, “What they did to me....no one should have to go through something so goddamn agonizing, I was only a child, just a little girl in a terrible place whether I knew it or not....and you know how it affected me?” She slowly shakes her head no as you smile miserably, your brows furrowed in pain, “I was gifted with bone claws that retracted out of my knuckles and one from each of my feet.” You confirm, eyes suddenly darkening in fury, “And you know what those goddamn bastards did to me afterwards? Like I hadn’t suffered enough from the pain of it all, they pumped me full of liquid Adamantium. Turning my claws to solid metal, the fucking strongest material on earth. Right in the body of an eleven year old child!” You shout furiously as she flinches back at your outburst, blinking hard, you let out a heavy breath before leaning back into your chair in defeat.

Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a memory now.

Strong brows dent her clear skin in thought as you await a response, after a few long moments does she soon gather her racing mind, lacing her fingers together she raises a brow at you, “That doesn’t explain how you’ve survived so long. The years working for Hydra, they turned you into a weapon....yet you’ve escaped and haven’t been killed yet. Not even a scratch to be found.....well, at least that I can see.”

Turning to face the puzzled assassin, you give her a lopsided grin, your chill composure coming back to you quickly enough, “I didn’t just get claws from the enhanced serum that fucked with my genetic make-up, it completely heightened my humanly abilities. Suddenly I was stronger, faster, and all my senses felt like they were on overload. Best of it all, I came to realize I had accelerated healing capabilities. Who would have thought that their shitty inhuman experiments would have gone so horrendously, yet with the one miracle of an exception. Me.”

“I had figured that branch of Hydra was meddling on dangerous ground, I hadn’t realized the extent of what they were doing. Did they try making any more like you?” She wonders.

“I was the last. Since I was the only compatible vessel, they didn’t want to waste anymore time or money on others who could possibly fail.” You explain with a shrug, “I became one of their most treasured assets.”

Pursing her lips together, she gives a slight nod before revealing a different file from her bag, you watch as she pauses for a moment before opening it up, you quickly take notice of the many white papers pinned together. Some with encrypted symbols and words while others are in plain English. Your brows furrow as she flips the first page to reveal...

“I know I came asking for answers about classified information, but this won’t be a complete mission if I don’t ask you about your time with Hydra.” Proposes the red head cautiously while she studies your face for any hostile reactions, not getting anything but skepticism, she continues, “I understand you were very important to them. It’s recorded you’ve completed about three dozen kills over an active period of about thirty-seven years.”

You scoff before muttering, “So it would seem. They gave me my first mission in 1971...when I was 17.”

“Right, but that’s not exactly what I’m seeking.” Her eyes immediately trail down to the files, “I assume you must have seen this man at least once...” She flips another page over and pulls out a playing card sized photograph, she turns it around and slides it closer to you. Instantly you recognize who he is, but how did she?..

“I haven’t seen him in years, nor heard of him for that matter.” You mutter, though your tone shifts to a more aggravated one.

Noticing this difference, Natasha continues, “That’s the look of someone who has met him for less then friendly reasons. What happened to the Winter Soldier?” You take a long moment to study his stoic face of icy blue and white, and black; its when he was in the Cryostacis chamber, the place where they would freeze him to keep their Winter Soldier locked away until he was needed for a new mission. All that you can fully witness is his sleeping face, though you know exactly what he looks like up close and with no ice crystals in his dark hair.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you slide the photograph back over to her folder, “I met him when I was 25 in 1979, Hydra needed us for a duel mission somewhere in South Africa, they needed their best. We were tasked with locating and stealing some precious metal which we later learned was Vibranium, because apparently they had used the last of the Adamantium on me.” You reveal with a casual shrug, “It went relatively well as expected...and well, we worked with each other many times after that, until I escaped and he was sent to kill me in 2009.”

“You knew him for almost twenty-nine years. Do you know where he might be now?”

Scoffing, you almost laugh, “Even if I did, you’d never get him. But if I’d have to assume, he’s probably frozen in some cryo tank somewhere in the middle of Russia. Waiting to be let loose again so he can take out a new enemy of the state.”

“Right.” Nods the Black Widow as she closes up her files, her green irises quickly on you again, “Thank you for your time, and for the heavy material you spoke of.”

“It was a long time ago, someone else should remember what those fuckers did to innocent mothers and their children. No one in this entire world knows except for me, you, and the doctors I haven’t killed yet.” You growl with venom lacing your every word.

Soon you watch as she swiftly rises to her feet, as you do the same, “I wish you well then.” Affirms the Black Widow as you follow her lead to the door, she stands on the other side for a moment before asking, “Is there any way I could find you again?”

Leaning against the door frame, you break out into a knowing smirk as she stands waiting expectantly, “If you’re lucky, you’ll never see me again. Goodbye agent Romanoff.” And with that do you gently close the door, leaving her in the hallway with a plethora of useful information, but still nothing significantly useful on the Winter Soldier, now only time will tell if he ever happens to show up on her radar again. Hopefully not, she thinks doubtfully before turning on her heels and sauntering off down the hallway.

——

Almost two whole years had passed since last you’ve spoken to the assassin, in that time you’ve watched her speak on live television when Hydra had finally been exposed to the world and all their secrets let loose for the prying hungry eyes of the public.

Even some of your own information had been leaked, the world knew who you were now, what atrocities you’ve committed for the organization during your time with them and that you’ve been M.I.A since 2009. Now you’re on an international watchlist. Fantastic. Apparently some very important leaders of the world and other prestige family members alike aren’t very fond of yourself for murdering their adversaries or filthy rich husbands. 

But it’s not like you had a choice, Hydra would always alter your memories when they shocked you into forgetting who you even were; thus you’d complete a mission and a couple days or so later would your mind stitch itself back together again the best it could from the electrical trauma. Only the killing part would be a dark and fuzzy memory, thus revealing itself to you in bits and pieces at a time. Soon everything blurred together and you just complied or face getting electrocuted multiple times a session, until your eyes remained empty and dangerous.

Considering you’ve been on the run since that information was released, in this time, you’ve tracked down past agents and doctors alike who had wronged you, considering you now had full access to their recent history. Hence increasing your body count as you went from one country to the next, making the world a tad bit lighter with their darkness whipped from existence.

Although soon enough you became unsettled with the loads of information expunged from Hydra, your mind inevitably making a one eighty back to a certain broody super soldier from your complicated past. He must be in the world somewhere, living as a secret civilian or whatnot. He has to be. And you’ve decided to find him before someone else does.

Maybe it was curiosity, or the fact that he was like you and shared a bloody history with Hydra, but your instinctual drive to find the Winter Soldier eventually drew you the beautiful city of Bucharest, Romania. Although he didn’t make finding him effortless in the slightest, after endless days hacking into network databases looking for even a snippet of information. You found a lead.

Turns out airport security footage is very useful, even more so, footage from around the city’s grant center; and from there you were able to track him to Romania. Eventually after a couple of days in the city, you were able to catch a glimpse of him at the local market place and thus followed him to his little shitty apartment without him as so much as noticing.

Once he left again, you slipped inside and began your wait for his eventual return. But will he even want to speak with you? Does he even remember you? Your memories hadn’t been continuously whipped like his were, granted you were forced into cryo more then once and electroshocked into forgetting your memories. It eventfully stopped once they realized your mind would just heal itself into remembering again, so instead they threatened you with a tracking device deep into your skin tissue that would blow up if you tried to run.

Clearly you eventually found a way around this, as terrible of a memory it gave you.

——

Looking out the window, your ears suddenly pick up the sound of boots stealthily walking down the hallway, they’re incredibly light against the tiles outside, perhaps he somehow knows you’ve been following him. A moment later the scent of a man fills your nostrils and you know he’s inside the apartment. You could barely hear the door.

He’s silent as a mouse, nothing indicating he’s even there except for his rapidly thudding heartbeat that pounds anxiously against his strong chest; you slowly turn to face him. His hat from earlier is gone, dark blue eyes stare warily on you while soft breaths emit from his slightly parted lips. He’s not afraid, but he is nervous.

Folding your arms over your chest, you take a glance around the room, “Nice place.” You confirm casually, eyes back on the Winter Soldier in a second as the corner of your lips pull into a humored half grin, “I’m not here to complete some personal Vendetta against you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is more curious then cold, maybe he can be reasoned with after all.

Taking a step forward, you shrug, “Wanted to make sure you aren’t still on their side.”

He keeps silent for a moment as you watch him watch you, “I’m done with them.” Mutters Bucky, disgust dripping off his words. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Progress.

“Good.” You add with the tiniest of smiles before motioning towards his little kitchen table, “Mind if we sit and talk? As, well...I guess civilians now.”

Studying your face for any indication of falseness and hostility, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds none. Bucky takes off both of his gloves and sits, metal hand shinning in the low lighting. A threat or a precaution? Maybe he just wants it off?

You follow his example, and soon the two of you sit not even three feet away from each other. Both yourself and Bucky hold an awkward silence for a long moment as the tension in the room rises, shifting your gaze from the counter behind him, you don’t really notice as he trails his eyes over your face, “I remember you.” Reveals Bucky to your great surprise, your eyes falling onto him in an instant, “They sent us on missions together, until you left and they woke me up to kill you for it.”

Smiling, you let out a humored breath of air, “Turns out you didn’t miss me after all. I gave you a nice scar for your troubles though, you still have it?”

Bucky purses his lips into the tiniest of shadowy grins, although no real joy is shown, “It’s a thin little line across my left rib cage. Just barely reached my bone.” Yeah, and I would have if you didn’t punch me in the eye socket first, you think to yourself from when the Winter Soldier had tracked you down. But that’s a long story.

“Glad it’s healed and they didn’t have you come after me a second time. I don’t think I would have let you live again.”

He thinks hard for a second as he processes your words, “You let me live? The first time?”

“Well,” You serenely admit, “I couldn’t exactly kill you...I guess, well....I don’t really know why I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. Guess I’m not as ruthless as Hydra wanted.” You mumble with a conflicted frown, the two of you keep silent before you break the odd tension, “Doesn’t matter now. I heard about what happened in D.C. just like the rest of the world. Gotta say, I was wondering what everyone over there had been getting themselves into.”

“They leaked everything.” Mumbles Bucky with a knowing flash of insight within his dark restless eyes.

“I know.” You add with a slow nod, “I’ve been traveling more cautiously for the past year and a half now. You’d think they’d let us live in peace, of course not. But I guess it means the world knows what a piece of shit organization Hydra is. So that’s something.”

“Yes.” Agrees Bucky, eyes trailing from your fingerless gloves to your face, of course he remembers what hides beneath, “What happened to you since you left?

Fumbling with your fingers as they lay against his table, you turn you head to the window, the ghost of a smile dancing across your lips, “Surviving. You?”

He shifts his gaze back down to his metal hand as you turn to face him, “About the same I’d say.”

Leaning back against your creaky wooden chair, you hand him a small yet friendly smile, “Well then. What of us now? Two ex-assassins alone in the world. With nothing but our wit and fists to keep us afloat.” You add with a low chuckle, he doesn’t crack.

Losing your smile, the two of you keep silent as ghosts for a long moment before Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “I got some tea.” Replies the admittedly handsome man now since you have a moment to really look; the briefest hint of a grin revealing itself against his lips for only but a flash of a second. But you still see it.

Fumbling with your fingers you give him a pursed lip grin, “I like tea.”

[podcastenthusiast]

Have a little fic about Woozie's angsty teenage years.

Wu Zi Mu is 14 years old.

He feels cursed. His temper has a hair trigger, and his best friend is a Triad enforcer whom his father pays to ensure he doesn't get kidnapped or fall down the stairs or something.

"Hey, Woozie," says Guppy. He will never admit he actually likes the nickname.

"I don't need a babysitter," he snaps. This car ride can't end soon enough.

"Okay. Just wanted to let you know you're covered in blood."

He is well aware. He could probably have his bullies killed if he desired it, but he doesn't want to be feared like that. Those idiots aren't worth it. Woozie just gets into a lot of fights, that's all. Always has. But these days he throws more punches than he takes.

"Yeah. You should've seen the other guy."

"Your father won't be pleased."

"He doesn't believe I can handle myself."

Guppy sighs. Woozie doubts he believes it much, either.

"There's a first aid kit and spare clothes in the trunk. Are your glasses broken?"

Woozie feels them. The right lens is cracked. He probably has a black eye. Shit. At least it will heal faster than that fucker's hand.

"Fuck. Yeah."

"Glove compartment."

Woozie opens it and retrieves a new pair of dark glasses.

"Why are you doing all this?"

Guppy doesn't answer.

Maybe to save him an additional beating, he thinks later.

--

Wu Zi Mu is 16 years old.

He feels restless. He is blind, but he wants nothing more than to drive a car. Well, there is one thing he wants more: to race.

"No."

"Come on, Guppy. I would split the cash with you if we win. 50/50."

"No."

"I know how to drive. The basics, anyway."

"Empty parking lots and dirt roads are nothing like a street race."

"I'm not stupid. Seriously, what could go wrong?"

Guppy counts on his fingers. "We could be arrested. We could die in a fiery crash. The boss could find out and fire and/or kill me."

"Which is why I need you to...be my eyes, so to speak. It'll be fine."

Guppy sighs. The thing is, Woozie could easily order him. He doesn't like to do that much. But he likes asking for help even less, they both know. He might just drive himself if Guppy refuses.

"...Okay. Get in the car before I change my mind."

He doesn't win the race, in the end. It's not even close. But Woozie has never felt more free and alive in his entire life, so that's all right. There is always next time.

--

Wu ZI Mu is 18 years old.

He has never once fired a gun, which is kind of remarkable given his upbringing and the fact that Guppy never goes anywhere without at least one.

He has also never had sex with a woman, but that doesn't interest him nearly as much.

"The Triads have been engaging in more violence. It's time I learn to defend myself properly," he says. There is a tone of authority in his voice that neither of them have heard before.

Guppy can't really argue with his logic. Their enemies are growing bolder every day. So he starts driving Woozie to the shooting range. He practices until he can hold a gun steady and his aim is as true as it can be, considering.

This might save his life one day. Guppy won't always be there to protect him, after all.

--

Wu Zi Mu is 20 years old.

He is the new Dai Dai Lo of the Mountain Cloud Boys. Part of him already misses when his problems felt simpler, when a lot of things could be solved with a fight.

The Triad needs an even-tempered leader now. He will be what they need, despite his...everything about him.

"Hey, boss," says Guppy, entering his office. "You called?"

"I did."

"Is this about that Blood Feathers deal?"

"No, no. Take a seat. I was just about to have a drink."

He pours two shots and holds one out for Guppy, who accepts.

"You're not 21 yet, are you?"

Woozie smiles. "You know, somehow I think that's the least of my worries, legally speaking."

"I can't imagine why. Underaged drinking is the worst crime there is."

He laughs, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease slightly for the first time in weeks.

--

Wu Zi Mu is 27 years old.

He is in love with Carl Johnson.

Guppy can see it plainly. Both Woozie and CJ apparently can't, and while one of them is blind he doesn't know what the other man's excuse is.

He doesn't think he's ever seen Woozie look happier, though. Like the Triad, CJ would do anything for Woozie, and he clearly feels the same. They are good for each other. That's got to count for something.

He hopes they figure it all out soon. Life is short, especially the sort of lives people like them tend to lead.

[flyingupward]

critical role - bell’s hells - arc 1 sentence starters

all sentences taken from episodes 1-23 of the third campaign of critical role. feel free to change pronouns, phrasing etc. to fit your needs!

“Kids like fun scary. You’re scary scary.”

“What time are you going to wake up? You’re being lazy.”

“Smiley day to you!”

“All right. We’re done talking in front of you. Let’s go.”

“She’s effective. You’ve just gotta be careful around her.”

“I’m immediately concerned about the creepy ass bitch 40 feet away dripping with goo.”

“Do you want my face to wear off after a few minutes?”

“There is no thinking here tonight.”

“Of all the isms, optimism is the most optimistic!”

“The rat makes sense.”

“Plan A is shit now. It’s Plan B.”

“Does no one crime?!”

“God, I miss cartilage.”

“We hate furniture.”

“So your hobbies are baking cake and covertly protecting the realm from evil. What an odd retirement!”

“Jazz I don’t fuck with.”

“Every once in a while, you need to see the sun rise. It might be that night for me.”

“I’m glad the noise has stopped for you. I’m glad you’re at peace.”

“I get headaches just listening to people chatter out loud. I can only imagine the dumb shit people have rolling around in their heads.”

“Why does everyone think I need so much sandwich?”

“Don’t backseat rope hold.”

“They say that goodbye is the hardest word to say, but it’s not. It’s Worcestershire.”

“That is delightfully fucked up.”

“Well the head got up and the head got hit.”

“Did you kiss them? Did you kiss the beef?”

“Should we get a late lunch before murder?”

“You don’t want to do murder on an empty stomach.”

“What are the chances we’re going to wander into two terrible things in one day?”

“My telekinesis is much stronger than I am.”

“I’d love to see your insides.”

“I thought it was gonna be otters!”

“Inanimate objects! It’s a conspiracy of inanimate objects!”

“You should poke it. We’re pretty sure it’s dead, but there’s only one way to tell.”

“Oh, you’re all sorts of fucking crazy.”

“I’m just saying come correct or get corrected.”

“I don’t want to make this awkward, but I have this group on toy retainer so…”

“You’ll figure it out. I don’t have time to put you through business school, fuck.”

“All of them are going on a date with the cook.”

“That’s got to be a record. We did three clusterfuck break ins in one day.”

“I feel like we resort to the B&E route quite a bit. I feel like we should mix it up.”

“I was going to say it’s Tuesday, but that’s not real.”

“I’m getting my wood’s worth!”

“I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.”

“How can you make something so nice still sound so creepy?”

“Let’s go do some crime, fuck it.”

“Think of it as a very complicated vacation.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am appreciative. I’m also gonna fuck off in the morning.”

“You know, I thought I was the king of cagey. What is it about this group?”

“You silly, silly noble.”

“As harsh as the world may seem at times, there are good people out there. It’s easy for them to be drowned out by the noise.”

“Those who are loved are never lost.“

“Those who are loved are never lost… Unless it’s like your keys.”

“You can accomplish anything if you believe in yourself or if you have wealthy parents.”

“Friendship is pastries!”

“I don’t fuck around when it comes to wood.”

“I kinda hate it and I kinda love it, but I mostly hate it.”

“Have you ever, in your entire life, been bumped so hard your ring fell off?”

“Y’all came in with weird energy and you done fucked me up.”

“Paying his debts? In the bathroom? That sounds like a lot of work!”

“I feel like this is a pretty open and shut nightmare.”

“You are a cup.”

“May the hair in your ears never fall out.”

“As you said so yourself in your head probably, we’re a bunch of bumblefucks.”

“When you aggressively whittle wood behind the bench like that, it looks like something else.”

“I’m gonna protect the dead lady.”

“Lick salt, fucker!”

"Anything worth doing, anything really really complicated, should not be done quickly."

“I love other peoples’ problems, please.”

“I feel oddly comforted and it disturbs me.”

“I’ve been up for a while just kind of looking at you.”

“Do you want to eat our face off?”

“You should never have to run into the storm alone.”

“Trees: Nature’s titty tassels.” 

 “If you’re looking for a book repository, we’re in a fucking swamp.” 

“That is so mean and I am so proud of you.” 

“It just turns out I’m really good at killing wood.” 

“Is it cake or is it death?” 

“Who’s Santa now, bitch?” 

“Fuck this haunted house.” 

“I’m a big, shiny rainbow motherfucker right now.” 

“I know where you power down.” 

“Right feels weird.” 

“Did I just mention that because I love it or because we’re contractually obligated to? Maybe both.” 

“I often find a little bit of understanding helps in easing the fear.” 

“Anybody can be grumpy if you work hard enough.” 

“I thought you were a healer. You cut me deep.” 

“Just cause you have a soul doesn’t mean you know how to use it too good.” 

“It has been nearly two weeks and I have forgotten how extremely strange you all are.” 

“Okay, goodnight, I’ll watch you sleep.”

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

innocence never lasts - crime au

I’m back boys with another part, were getting closer to war time now dudes. This takes place before part 3 just if you wanted to get a better understanding of the timeline. 

part 1 & 2 & 5

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

Wilbur came to town on an invitation from the masked man himself

Dream had enticed the brit with promises of riches and power, and he already had connections within the city so really what had he to lose

Wilbur was supplied with a small team, he was in charge of one of the larger drug trades and production companies on the east side of the city. His job was to eliminate any competition and regain complete control of the eastern drug exchange, how he did that was completely up to him. 

However, when dream sent a duo of teenage criminals to his door, Wilbur was less than impressed

“Dream, how do you expect me to run a drug cartel when two thirds of the cartel are fucking children”

“You'll figure it out dude, I believe in you.”

“No this isn't an ‘I believe in you’ situation dream, they aren't even allowed to drink in this country let alone kill a bunch of drug lords that by the way, are probably predators!”

“Admittedly, yes, they are a little young. But Tommy is one of the best kids I know, everything he knows he either learnt from me or the blood god himself.”

“Wait?” Wilbur moves his eye in front of the peep hole in his front door to inspect the blond on the right. “This Kid is technos?” He watches him pull a face at the shorter boy before punching him in the arm.

“Yup.”

“And you're okay with that?”

“It's a long story but yes.”

Wilbur looks back through the peephole at the smaller of the two and distantly hears “What if we just stab him” through the thin wood of his door. The older brit shakes his head and turns back into his living room

“And who's the kid threatening to stab me”

“Friend of Tommy's, I think. And don't worry about the stabbing, it's probably his way of saying he likes you or something.”

“If any of these kids die it's on you green man.”

“I can live with that.”

When Wilbur opens the door again, Tommy has his head in his hands and sighs as Tubbo puts a knife to his throat.

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

It's a week in and Wilbur has considered shooting the both of them more than he would like to admit.

He's not really one for killing children, but he's not a fan of being outnumbered by the little fuckers. So to make it even he calls up some of his contacts in the city.

He almost regrets it immediately when Tommy asks who the furry is

Wilbur tries to hide his laugh when the blond boy says this, but in the child's defense, Who the fuck wears a fox mask

Fundy and Eret get along fine after their first meeting and Wilbur is just happy he doesn't have to sit around and listen to Tommy and Tubbo argue over who can fit more breadsticks in their mouth without breaking any on his own anymore.

The drug business continues under Wilbur's power and surprisingly, no one dies. They take down competitors and pump out more and more supplies to companies that are willing to pay higher prices than ever. He hates to say it, but maybe he's glad he took this job from Dream

That is until Tommy almost punches his front door down at 1am covered in smoke and blood, Tubbo barely breathing on the porch next to him.

Wilbur panics and shoves the both of them in the back seats of his car, instructing a shaken Tommy to put pressure on Tubbos wounds as he floors it to the nearest hospital. He can deal with the repercussions of running red lights after he comes up with a plan to get through the hospital without being noticed. Sure maybe Wilbur wasn't on anyone's radar yet, but Tommy definitely was, and who knows how many people Tubbo has actually stabbed.

Dream has to have some sort of protocol for something like this, a secret entrance or a codeword or something. He reaches to grab his phone from his jean pocket and swears as he realizes he left it on charge on his night stand, looks like he's on his own for this one. He can do this, just focus and fucking drive Wilbur

When he gets to the hospital he parks right out front in a place where he definitely isn't supposed to be and helps Tommy and Tubbo out of the car and practically has to carry the brunet through the front doors. As soon as he walks in he knows people know, they've been on the news more than once and it's not difficult to keep up with the city's most wanted list these days, but Tommy's limping now and he knows the adrenaline is wearing off so he drags tubbos bleeding body up to the front desk and swallows his pride.

“Help them, please.”

The woman at the front desk looks Wilbur directly in the eyes, sees the way tears are building there and switches her gaze between the two younger boys.

“Please.”

The woman takes a breath and nods. “We need help here.”

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

A few hours later when both boys are patched up and on the mend the doctor lets him in the room. Tubbo is out and hopped up on pain meds, recovering from smoke inhalation and a shrapnel wound on his left side. Doc said it looked worse than it is, he was only out to let his chest ease up a little. Tommy's wounds on the other hand were a little more permanent.

He’s sat on the bed next to Tuboos watching his chest rise and fall. There were bandages wrapping around his left leg, a mix of shrapnel and soft burn marks underneath, and his right arm is in a sling meaning he wouldn't be able walk on his own for a while. Wilbur sits next to him but Tommy doesn't stop watching Tubbos breathing.

“They almost put him on a ventilator.”

Tommy says it so softly, Wilbur almost doesn't recognize it was him at first. He's got a few stitches on his forehead where a purpling bruise blooms underneath, he almost doesn't want to know what happened. Almost.

“What happened Tommy.”

“What, not even gonna compliment my wheels.” He gestures to the right where Wilbur sees a small black wheelchair next to Tommy's bed and he tries not to choke on his breath. He hates being right sometimes.

Tommy sighs and closes his eyes, his head droops and Wilbur rests a comforting hand on the young boy's shoulder.

“It was one of the warehouses on the outer perimeter of the east side, Tubbo had asked me to help him take stock, it was already late and he thought if we both did it we could catch the last bus home together.”

He imagines the two of them dancing to stupid music and running around the warehouse playing tag or something stupid, it wouldn't be the first time.

“We weren't even halfway done before one of the alarms went off, didn't think much of it, smoke alarms go off all the time for stupid shit right. Didn't even reach the office before the first blast. Was a Molotov I think, probably what set the alarms off, no idea what turned the warehouse into a fucking bomb though.”

“Something exploded, don't know what but it got both of us. Landed on my shoulder real good. We ran to the back entrance, or as close as we could get before another blast went off, fucking ceiling came down on me. Hurt like a bitch but at least it's nothing permanent. Think I was out for a bit, not for long but long enough for Tubbo to hurt himself trying to get shit off me. ‘Rest is a bit of a blur to be honest, don't remember much between getting hit and ending up at your door.”

Wilbur takes a deep breath and shakes his head, it's not gunna help anyone if he starts getting emotional right now.

“Who would have done this.”

“That's the thing, I got a call about two minit's before the alarm went off from the master arsonist himself asking where I was. He never calls me will, not once. I didn't even know he had my fucking phone number.”

“Wait, why would sapnap want to blow up one of our warehouses.”

“I don't know, but Will, I lied. He asked if were were out on any jobs and I fucking lied I don't know why but I told him me and Tubbo were playing fucking video games at home, and not two minits later the place where I told him we weren't goes up in fucking flames.”

Wilbur sits in silence and looks between the two injured boys. He can't help but feel fury building in his chest, he doesn't care about the thousands of dollars lost in the fire, couldn't give less of a shit about Dreams fucking money. He’s angry that two teenage boys had been ambushed in an attack at a warehouse that his employer had promised were protected. God only knows what would have happened if Wilbur hadn't been home. He tries not to think about what would have happened if Tommy hadn't been there either, he stands and tries to get the image of Tubbo being trapped in that warehouse out of his head.

 He grinds his teeth together in confusion and anger hopes to god Tommy's wrong.

“Where are you going.”

Tommy looks up and meets Wilbur's eyes, the young boy sees the fury burning in them, he knows the older brit is mad and to be honest, he doesn't blame him. He watches Wilbur walk round to Tubbos bedside and picks up his cracked phone, he doesn't mention the way he’s sees Wilbur's hands shake.

“Ill be back okay, I've got a phone call to make.”

[letstalkaboutsebbaby]

Related Activities - Chapter 4

The district has a new attorney and Marshall is going to learn the hard way that he should have acted sooner in pursuing his passion for Caroline.

Pairing: Andy Barber x OFC (Caroline Kline) / Walter Marshall x OFC (Caroline Kline)

Author: Deb @letstalkaboutsebbaby / @letswriteaboutsebbaby

Rating: Mature

Warnings: crime talk, smut (hi @klaine-92 - it's starting!)

Walter Marshal is a man that has little to no time to lose with useless things. His house lack decoration because he sees no need for them. A couple of frames with pictures of his daughter, some cushions that he didn’t know were uncomfortable when he bought them, and a painting in his bedroom. He has few friends - his brother and a couple of guys whom he grew up with - fewer reasons to trust new people, but he trusts Caroline. He likes her, he wants her more than he cares to admit to himself, not really confident in his relationship skills.

One of the things he needs the most is the only thing she can’t ever give him - silence. She’s always with something to talk about, a view over some case, a question about his past experiences, or a song to softly sing when she knows he’s not wanting to talk. Marshall feels like he can listen to her singing the whole discography of the Pretenders before he’ll get enough of her voice.

Waking up early after a hard day, he stays in bed contemplating his next steps to make sure she’ll understand he needs time cause he can’t start a relationship while worrying about the cases they have now. Obviously, they’ll always have to work and it’ll always have a lot of shit to deal with but at the moment it’s too time-consuming and he wants to start a relationship with the possibility to really give her time and attention. Looking at his phone, a text gives him hope that things will go as planned: Only pick me up if you bring hot chocolate with vanilla cream. It’s the closest thing to “I’ll forget you’ve been so dumb” he will get and since his apology hasn’t been so eloquent either, he’s fine with it.

After half an hour and bringing a big cup of her favorite drink, he picks her up at her apartment. From the driver’s window, he can see the pale rose curtain on her room reminding him of how contrastive their houses are; her full of cute decor items, different patterns on the walls, soft rugs, mirrors and candles everywhere. If it wasn’t Carol he would’ve said the person spent a lot of time decorating the place, but somehow it feels effortless for her. It’s like anything he finds difficult is incredibly natural for her.

As she climbs in the car, Marshal smiles at her and she smiles back, quickly reaching for her drink. He stops her hand midways and holds it between his. “Can you at least say good morning?”

“Good morning, big guy. You look better”

“I am. Look, Car...I’m not in the right mind to...to do anything other than find these fuckers. Let’s look forward to that week off, can we?” His big fingers caressing her palms and bringing butterflies to her stomach. As handsome and sweet as Andy is, her attraction to Marshall has been something growing since day one and her heart is more invested than she would like. The way he calls her ‘Car’ only adding to the entire sexiness of him.

“So let’s find these fuckers...Give my hands back, I need to drink and you need to drive.” she teases. “Any new clue?”

“No, some test results will be ready today tough, so I guess we’ll at least have something to go after. Yours?”

“Nothing either, I was just talking to Andy last night and he thinks the same modus operandi was being investigated in Massachusetts. He’ll bring the files today so I can give a look before interviewing the guy again.”

The mention of a night talk with Andy bothers Marshall and he can’t really pay attention to anything Carol says after it and she notices the change in his behavior but decides not to ask the reason.

Shortly after they get to the station, each working on their own cases, Andy gets there for the suspect interview, files ready for her to analyze.

“Hey, that’s for me?” Caroline points with a smile when she sees him.

“I believe it’ll cost you something” he replies, sitting by her desk.

“I’m ready to pay for it. What’s the price?” she plays along.

“Dinner tonight.”

“Done. Pass me the files, Sir.”

The friendly chat is something she really likes about him. A bit of flirting doesn’t hurt, right? Caroline reads the info and adds sticky notes to some of the papers while Andy talks to one of the cops. When the suspect is in the interrogation room, she calls Andy to go along with her.

“You go ahead, I’ll watch by the glass” he responds.

“You don’t want to get in?”

“Go on...I trust you, I’ll be there if you think a different approach it’s required.”

Once she’s there, with a bust in her confidence after Andy’s speech, the suspect is clearly trembling as she makes the questions but answers everything as determined by his lawyer - even though a peeved tone is always present. In the next room, Andy is watching the interrogation when Marshall enters to do the same, just as the suspect changes the subject to the previous encounter with the detectives.

“Were’s your bodyguard, Miss? Not going to intimidate me today?”

“I just need the answers, I don’t think you need to be intimidated in order to give me the truth. You’re smart enough to know there’s only one way not to be sentenced to death in a case like this and it starts with giving me information” she states.

“Are you fucking him?” the suspect challenges as his lawyer tries to make him behave. “You look like a good fuck”

The suspect enrages Marshall and he’s ready to go inside and put him in his place, but Andy stops him with a hand in his arm.

“You can’t really blame him” Andy calmly says.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Marshall verbalizes with no calm at all.

“The way you act...he knows you’re here and all he wants is for you to enter that room and give his lawyer a reason to ask for a transference.” He asserts the situation, stopping Marshall from ruining Caroline’s work.

“I better go” The detective mutter.

“Don’t worry, I got her” Andy claims, much to Marshall’s displeasure.

When the interrogation ends Caroline meets Andy to deliberate for some time. Eventually, he went back to his office, promising to pick her up at the end of the day, both concentrating on work before the time for a new date came around. They decide to have dinner at hers, dismissing the idea of going home to get ready for a formal event - buying some take-out from an Italian place she likes and finding comfort at her floor once again.

“This is delicious” he declares, the pleasure clear on his face.”Can we do this every night? I want to try out all of their dishes.”

“It’s so yummy, right? I can’t have it every night though, I would end up in the worst shape.” Caroline says kiddin’, trying to imagine if he really wants to spend more time with her, and for what reasons.

“I find it very hard to believe you could get into a bad shape, babe, you’re gorgeous.”

A bit abashed by his comment, she smiles shyly and drinks a gulp of wine. “Well, in this case…we can do this sometimes before you get tired.”

“If I get tired we can change to japanese food, or mexican…”

“I was talking about the company”

“No sense. I might get tired of air before this happens.” He smiles and gets closer to her, an arm inviting her to lean on him. “You’re like...you know the feeling when you’re little and you know a Christmas present is waiting for you downstairs?” her head resting on his shoulder turns up to look at him.

“Yeah” she whispers back, looking deeply into his baby blue eyes. “I’m not sure the wrappings would be more interesting than the actual prize…” she tries to jest, but he holds her face, his thumb pressing over her lips. The way he looks at her gives no space for misinterpretations and the butterflies in her belly are very hard to ignore.

“If you agree to a hundred dinners more I can try to find out…” Andy’s low timbre functioning as a poison that keeps her weak - no reason to leave his arms, no desire to be anywhere else but in his presence.

“A hundred?” she softly asks.

“Just to start…” his lips softly touching hers before he kisses her. “You deserve better, you know?” She wasn’t sure what he means...deserve better than what? But his lips are on hers again before she can think further about it, both of them getting lost in sweet and deep kisses. Caroline wasn’t aware of the time, only able to feel Andy and the desire he evokes; not even the fact that they’re now lying on the couch seems to register in her mind, just his scent and the weight of his body over hers. Resting his forehead on hers, Andy whispers in the most enticing way “I’ll be what you need, sweetie. Everything you need.” while his hands expertly unbutton her jeans.

That was a completely different end to her night… she’s spent months dreaming about finishing her day in this same position with Marshall but it didn’t feel wrong to be with Andy - he’s attentive and attractive, very easy on the eyes - anyone would love to have him and she’s not about to lose this guy waiting for someone that never gave her anything more than a promise of a week off together. “We should take this to the bedroom”.

“Shhh...just relax.” He before taking her pants off and lying between her legs, positioning them around his waist; he slowly slides an arm to hold her neck as she stares at his eyes, entranced by how hot he looks at this moment. “Choose me, babe. Just tell me you want me.”

She can feel how hard he is through his pants and nods unconsciously “I want you, Andy.”

He tries hard not to lose control, wanting to watch her surrender, to see her gradually becoming his. “I want you too...so much” he starts moving his hips, rubbing his covered hard-on over her panties, a hand moving to grip her butt, helping her to grind against him “You look so beautiful...take what you need to feel good, babe”.

The friction on her clit driving her wild, making her squirm and cling to him. “Andy, please.”

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now...to take these clothes off and slide into you…” as he declares all he wants to do to her, she keeps grinding and kissing his jaw as if he’s going to disappear. “So fucking cute” Andy sits and brings her body with him, finding the view of her straddling his thighs the most erotic sight ever. He touches her tits through the shirt and holds her as she rides him. Caroline wants him to lose control, but all she accomplishes is to get closer to cumming, so she hugs him and lets herself go listening to his sweet praise of her.

With her body still trembling she opens her eyes to look at his proud face. “Stay.”

“I can’t. I need you to have a good night of sleep and think about what you want...then tomorrow you’ll text me let me know if you want another date.”

“A third date.”

“Yeah”

“I already know the answer”

“I’ll believe you when you’re not looking like you want to fuck so much” he jokes, standing up and putting her on the couch, adjusting his pants as much as possible with his cock still hard.

She stands up and slides her arms around his neck, bringing Andy close to kiss him once more. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Grabbing her hand, he takes his jacket from the other couch and walks to the door, stopping with a hand in the handle “I’ll be waiting. Have a good night, Car.” he gives her a light peck before leaving her house. She shivers when she hears him calling her ‘Car’ the exact same way Marshall does. She’s so fucked.

[severusloveslily]

bounty || snily au

“I thought your esteemed Aurors didn’t need help from the likes of miscreants like me,” Severus Snape snapped as he stared across at the director of the Auror Office. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”

“I was thinking fifteen-thousand galleons may persuade you,” the man muttered, obviously begrudgingly. 

“Twenty.”

“You’re mad,” James Potter then interrupted as he shook his head. “Get this fucker out of here. This has been a complete waste of time.”

“Fine. Twenty,” the director said as he shot James a warning glance. “You get the job done, Snape. We’re sending our best officer along with you. Between the two of you, I imagine you can bring the cretin back in one piece so he can pay for his crimes.”

“All of this excitement over a werewolf. Is Fenrir Greyback really that bloody crafty that it takes you hiring a third-party? For this much money? Or are you just that shite at your jobs?” Severus asked as he shook his head. “Give me the money. I’ll bring your mutt back to you warm,” he said as he stood up. “I haven’t got all day.”

“Half now, half when the job’s done,” the man said as he gestured for James to see him out. 

Severus paused and looked at him. “Who am I going to be working with? You said the best, so I know it’s not this dunderhead,” he said as he gestured to James. “I prefer to work alone.”

“I don’t care what you prefer, Snape. You’re working with Auror Evans.”

Severus resisted groaning out loud. Of course he was. That woman had been a pain in his side ever since he’d started his little mercenary career. Either she would swoop in and steal his perp or he’d do the same to her. He preferred the latter, given he got paid that way. However, she was annoying in Hogwarts and she was even more annoying now. He was fairly certain she was with Potter, but he could never really confirm that. They’d been together in school, but people changed, and if she had any sense about her, she’d have dumped him a while ago. 

Severus enjoyed what he did, he was good at it. He was a bounty hunter, if you wanted to put it into a couple words. It was the only way he’d been able to keep out of Azkaban. He’d become a Death Eater straight out of school and had run with Lord Voldemort for a number of years, until he got caught. In exchange for his rap sheet to become nonexistent, he had to lend his services to the greater good to take some bad guys off the streets. He didn’t mind it, he enjoyed it, and it was good money. He didn’t work for the Ministry, necessarily, but several higher-ups hired him to do their dirty work. 

Things could most definitely be worse and he’d made a lot of enemies, but he didn’t care. He could defend himself. Plus, the only person that mattered was himself and he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in the way of his success or what he wanted. The only thing he cared about was staying on the outside of the prison he put most of his victims in. 

[sparrowman-collections]

Rating all the guy fairy emojis

Apple

Look at this little forest sprite. You can definitely imagine him hopping around the mossy forest floor on a warm summer evening. I also love the chubby thigh action he’s got going on. Clothing choice leaves a little to be desired and the wing perspective is wonky, but over all a cutie.  7/10

Google

The leotard throws me off at first, but the more I look at it, the more it grows on me. The toothpaste green and mint tones are a bit much, but the gradient on the wings is quite nice. Just a little sugar plum fairy boy.  5/10

Microsoft

This fucker looks like a shitty little dentist and I do not trust him. The blue scrubs? The tooth-white wings? The “wand” that definitely isn’t just some scary tool decorated to make me feel comfortable to open my mouth for torture? At least he seems clean and polite.  2/10

Samsung

Clearly the dollar store version of the Apple emoji. I mean, they basically traced on this one, guys. I guess I appreciate them ditching the blue hair, and making the clothes’ colors a bit more bearable? (Although in an older version, the colors were exactly the same so... yikes.) 2/10

WhatsApp 2.19

I was filled with discomfort and sadness when I first saw this one, but unlike Google’s, it’s not really replaced with any sort of positive emotion. More, I kinda go through the stages of grief real quick until I land on acceptance. He’s way too muscular, the ripped muscle shirt sleeves+the pecs make me not trust him, the weird sheer belt thingy adds literally nothing, and over all he just looks like someone who wanted to make a Halloween costume that was literally “Fairy Ballerina but make it funny to drunk jocks”. 1/10

WhatsApp 2.17

Now this sweet boy? I fucks with him. He’s just a nice and polite young man. He picked and made that flower crown himself. His vest is plain, but elegant. His wings are small and graceful. I trust him. ...He is rather plain, though.  7/10

Twitter

I can’t be the only one who just cannot get with Twitter’s human emojis, right? I mean, any complaint I can make about this guy, I can make about the vampire, or the just regular dudes, or whatever. It’s a lifeless corporation’s ideal human vector image. He looks like he wants to sell me something, and I can’t fucks with that.  3/10

Facebook 2.1

Now THIS is the penultimate fairy emoji experience! I just love everything about him. Look at this little impish sprite!! What mischievous pranks will he pull? He’s completely unique out of all the fairy emojis and it’s for the better. There’s so much character, and the actual artistic value is genuinely pleasant! At any moment I could just imagine him springing to life and flitting around, cackling impishly. I kin this fairy boy.  10/10

Facebook 4.0

...And then they fucked it all up by making him some weird, muscular bug-robot thing. :L The wings are nice I guess...? I’m scoring this so low just due to the sheer amount of fuck up that has been achieved. You just weren’t satisfied with what you had, were you? You will pay for your crimes against my spritely son.  -10/10

[heartless-error]

You have something to tell me?

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairing: Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating/Tags: JayTim Week 2020 - Day 5: Detective Tim, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, Misunderstandings

Other(s) links: AO3

During the first weeks Jason spent at Wayne Manor, right after he had been picked up directly from Crime Alley, he learned something important: It was difficult to hide things from a good detective. Maybe he should have had that in mind during his adult life as well, especially when he was dating one of the best GCPD detectives.

"Tim? What happened?"

"Don't know. Tell me." He answered, angry. "You have something to tell me, Jason?"

You have something to tell me?

 During the first weeks Jason spent at Wayne Manor, right after he had been picked up directly from Crime Alley, he learned something important: It was difficult to hide things from a good detective.

 By a good detective, he meant Alfred, of course. Because at those times Bruce was a mess and was too busy panicking to have adopted another child. Really, the millionaire couldn't pay attention to when he was sneaking, smoking, stealing food, and hiding provisions along with money in case he had to flee at any time.

Anyway, he knew the man was trying to find a way to do things correctly with him, since he was a child of the street, with a difficult life, and totally different from the ray of the sun that turned out to be his first pupil, Dick.

 Of course, he didn't know that at the time. All he was aware of was that he now lived in a mansion and the butler there knew everything. Everything. No matter what he did, how he hid, or how he lied, Alfred always knew it, he always ended up finding out sooner or later. The first few times he was even scared.

 For this reason, he ended up learning that lesson. You couldn’t fool a good detective, because in the end they always ended up finding out whether by chance or not.

 He should have had that in mind during his adult life as well, especially when he did what he did. Because it would have saved him from some trouble, and he would have gotten away with it.

 That day he came home early, in a very good mood and wearing a slight smile. It was noon, and he had finished some duties, the patrol that night had been quiet, everything was going well, and his boyfriend had the day off.

 His boyfriend. His Timmy, his little detective.

 Against everything -and after several talks from absolutely his entire family- his relationship with Tim was going very well, better than anyone could have never thought. And contrary to what some people wanted to believe, Jason didn’t meet Tim as a GCPD detective, no, he was the pretty boy who lived in the neighborhood that greeted him with a cute smile, and stopped at the 24-hour coffee shop too often to be healthy. His surprise was even alarming when one night he showed up with Batman for a joint case on the police station rooftop and Jim Gordon was there with the force’s new promise: Detective Tim Drake.

As expected, just as that smile and pretty face dazzled Jason the first time he saw him in the cafe, so did his intelligence and professionalism in helping them with the case. So, days later, when Tim approached him shyly and asked him to have coffee together, how could he say no?

 He was crushing on him back then. And now, two years later, he still was.

 “Timmy.” He called him fondly as he entered the apartment they shared. “I'm back.”

 Walking down the hall, Jason looked around the kitchen and then headed to the living room. He didn't know if Tim was still asleep, but he wouldn't blame him if he did, his little bird worked too hard and sometimes didn't rest properly. Although it isn’t as if he was the most appropriate example of this considering his night activities, or night work, according to the version Tim knew.

 Even he didn't know how he had managed to hide his life as a vigilante from his partner for so long, but he couldn't continue doing it. As much as he feared for his safety or his reaction, it was a part of his life that he could no longer hide, and the more time passed, the worse the consequences.

 Just when he found Tim in the living room, he began to fear that these consequences had come sooner than expected.

 “Babybird.” He called him again.

 No answer.

 Tim was sitting at the end of the sofa, his feet up on it and curled up on himself, his arms were crossed, he was watching at the television turned off completely silent and thoughtful. His hands clenched into fists didn’t loosen, his nose was red and his eyes were watery, he seemed angry, sad, upset.

Jason's chest sank in concern, immediately closed in on the boy. Tim didn’t usually respond in a particularly emotional way to many things, he generally liked to compartmentalize unless it affected him a lot, the times when he had seen him crying had been at times like the anniversary of his parent’s death, for example.

 “Tim?” He asked somewhat alarmed.

 However, when he reached out to comfort him and lifted his hand to touch him, perhaps caress his hair in the way he knew it would relax him, he pulled away immediately, startled, surely he had been too deep in his own head to realize he had arrived.

A bad feeling began to invade him when he frowned and moved further away from his touch, clenching his fists. He knew that face, that sparkle in his eyes, he was angry, specifically with him. But at the same time his eyes were still watery and shone with disappointment, anguish.

 “What happened?” He asked again nervously.

 Tim frowned further and shrugged.

 “Don’t know. Tell me.”

 That reply was a confirmation that he was angry with him. Why? Well, based on the answer and the tone in which it was said, he might have discovered something that he didn't like at all, that would have hurt him, and Jason didn't have to think much to know what it was.

 “What?” He asked uselessly.

 Tim’s lower lip trembled for a second, but he controlled that to stop clinging to himself and getting his feet off the couch.

 “You have something to tell me, Jason?”

 Jason's alarms went off even, much louder. It was clear what was going on, Tim had figured it all out on his own.

He knew it, he knew it. God how had he been so stupid? He was dating one of the best GCPD detectives, one of the younger to join the force, with an outstanding record and the smartest person he knew. Fuck, even Batman praised the boy's ability, they had worked together on cases, that intelligence and audacity were scary, and that was what he most liked about him. Timothy was like a hound, stubborn and determined, he never gave up until he found the truth, and that was something he highly valued. If he felt that his boyfriend wasn’t being completely honest with him, of course he was going to investigate, of course he wanted to know. And having worked with the bats, being so close to him and having the necessary means, it was no wonder that he could have easily tied the dots.

 He couldn't lie to him, not anymore. He also didn’t like to do it before, the only reason he did it was because he knew it was for the best. Tim had thrown a light into his life that he never thought he could -or deserved to- have, a feeling of normality and affection that helped him improve and not be a fucking unconscious fucker. But he knew that part of his life was dangerous, dark and crazy. The proof was in his scars and nightmares, in his traumas and fears, those that Tim helped calm and never asked about. The fact that he didn’t know, kept him away from the danger that he was so afraid of could reach him, but he also worked with bats, was in the first ranks of the GCPD, and that made him join the risk.

He had no choice, besides, how could he continue to lie to him when he was there, half crying, begging him the truth and piercing his soul with those big blue eyes? Seriously, he wasn't surprised that the suspects sang so quickly with him, the boy was all eyes and pretty face.

 Jason sighed and sat down on the couch next to him, his heart beating hard and guilt devouring him. He never thought he would have to reveal his secret to someone out loud, not to a civilian, but he also never imagined caring about someone enough to do so. He looked Tim in the eye and took a deep breath:

 “Okay, it sounds like you already know, but you deserve to be told.” He said with a nod.

 Tim sniffed, looking nervously into his eyes, hurt, but let him continue. Jason swallowed and knew there was no other way out.

 “I’m Red Hood.”

 Silence.

 Tim didn’t move, didn’t react, and Jay exhaled altered. It wasn't enough, was it? It wasn’t.

 “I'm sorry I didn't tell you before.” He continued. “But I couldn't, seriously. It was too dangerous.”

 He looked for any trace of a single reaction on his face but didn’t find it. He just stood there, looking at him silently and thoughtfully. Which made him even more nervous.

 “I know you’re in the GCPD and we’ve worked together, but I didn't want to get you much more involved.”

 Still silent.

 “I pissed people off very dangerous, horrible villains, it’s a world you don't want to get into.”

 “…”

 “You have to believe me. If it were up to me, I would have told you a long time ago, but the more time passed the worse the secret became.”

 “…”

 “I constantly face undesirable people and you would be a very easy target.”

 “Jason.”

 By the time Tim whispered his name, the dam had broken, and he couldn't stop babbling, thinking aloud about everything that he had been holding back.

 “I know it sounds selfish, but it’s not just up to me and there’s a reason we keep civilians out of that life. Fuck, if you knew...”

 “Jason.”

 “It's a fucking hell and it killed me; I couldn't risk you.”

 “Jason.”

 “I know I've broken your trust but...”

 “Jason!” Tim interrupted, weary and leaning down to meet his eyes fiercely. “I knew it.”

 It took him three seconds to assimilate that, causing him to freeze and the confusion nullify him.

 What the fuck?

 “Eh?” He asked confused.

 “I knew it.” The smallest repeated, huffing and crossing his arms. “I’ve always known that.”

 What the actual fuck?

 Tim had to see the chaos and mess that was his head at the time on his face, because he huffed harder and shook his head, totally exasperated.

 “Jason, I'm not stupid.” He emphasized with a frown and raised his hands to point to the apartment. “This place is reinforced everywhere with bat technology.”

 He didn’t know what to say, because that was a good point.

 “You hide a gun in the cereal cupboard and...” Sighing and reaching into one of the holes in the sofa, he pulled out one of the rubber bullets that Red Hood used and had been there for who knows how long. “This! There are rubber bullets everywhere. Bullets I've seen you use.”

 Okay, so he might like to hide guns in certain parts of the place for extra security. And maybe he was a little sloppy with his bullets sometimes.

 “You have the same boots, pants and jacket in your closet. I even found your helmet once!”

 The excuse it was from a Halloween costume may not have been as convincing as he believed.

 “You speak the same way, you move the same way, you have the same height and constitution.” Tim continued listing. “Even the first night you saw me as Red Hood, you flirted with me.”

 He did?

 Maybe yes.

 “I knew it from the beginning and still accepted it. I knew the reason you were hiding it and I respected your decision to not tell me until you saw necessary.” Again, Tim began to look distraught, his eyes watering again. “But that's not what I was talking about.”

 Confusion arose again for something quite different. Because if Tim, his intelligent and precious detective, had known and accepted his other life from the beginning, what was going on? Why was he angry?

 “Then what were you talking about?” He asked fearfully, again the bad feeling settling in his being.

 Tim hesitated, shifted in his seat, and his lower lip trembled again, looking much more distressed than before, about to burst into tears.

 “I'm talking about you spending Saturday night at a 5-star hotel. Enjoying the restaurant and the suite for couples with another person.” He said and barely tried to control his voice. “The bank has reported recent suspicious movements on your card, when I asked half an hour ago it took me to the hotel, which asked for your assessment of your stay there and confirmation of another reservation this week.”

 Tim’s voice broke at the end and Jason started to panic much more than before.

Shit, shit, fuck, shit.

 “Tim this isn't-”

 “What it looks like?” He cut him off, trying to compose himself. “So, what is it?”

 Jason rubbed his eyes nervously. It really wasn't what it seemed, dammit. He knew what Tim was thinking, what anyone would think, and he understood his reaction. But he would never cheat on Tim, not like that, not feeling what he feels for him, not wanting to...

 “I know what you think but-”

 “But what? What should I think?” He asked again, his hands shaking.

 It was clear that he had cried, and he was trying not to do it again at this moment, the way he was getting more upset indicated that, he wanted to stay strong. And Jason didn’t know what to do, because he couldn’t deny anything and couldn’t explain it the way he wanted without making it seem even more suspicious, he knew that Tim’s self-esteem problems didn’t help the situation at all, he was among the sword and wall.

 “I went there, but not for what you think.” He began to explain, also nervous.

 Tim ended up getting off the couch, shaking his head vigorously and pacing in front of the living room table, like a caged lion.

 “With whom?” He asked then, almost in pain. “Nightwing?”

 “Wh-”

 “Arsenal?”

 “No!”

 “Starfire?”

 There he said nothing. About his brother and his best friend, he could deny it, but not with Kory. He went to the hotel and the restaurant with her, it was true, but not as more than friends. What’s more, he didn't even spend the night there, leaving the Tamaranian woman alone in the suite with one of Bruce’s credit cards to do whatever she wanted while he left on patrol and then returned home.

But Tim didn't know that, all he had was that brief silence on his part that told him he was correct, and that immediately broke him when he understood.

 Turning around, Tim rushed down the hall to their room, letting out a sob and not stopping to look back. Jason followed him without hesitation, frantic, guilt hitting him more and more along with the fear of losing him.

 “Tim!” He called him. “Listen to me, please!”

 They entered the room, Tim going straight to the closet and searching through his clothes. He knew what he was doing, he wanted to get his things and leave as soon as possible, he didn't want to be there to break even more, but Jason couldn't allow it.

 “We didn't spend the night together!” He explained grabbing the closet door and trying to get him away from there. “It’s not what you think.”

 Tim shook his head and rubbed his eyes, his breathing uneven, with no choice but to let him close the closet as he sobbed.

 “No, Jason, I get it.” He started to say. “It’s heroes’ stuff, I get it…”

 “What?” He asked confused. What was he talking about? Heroes stuff?

 “S-She’s a hero. Fuck, is Starfire, and I'm just a civilian...” He continued saying as he looked at the ground, almost looking resigned. “She can understand things that I don't, understand you on a level that I can't, and you don't have to lie to her or pretend to be anything else with her.”

 Jason opened his mouth and then closed it, stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, it was surreal.

It was true, most of the heroes ended up dating others in the community, but it didn’t always have to be like that. Secret identities, lies, and danger often ruin relationships with civilians, but other times, if you wanted to, they could work. Damn, the fucking Superman had a family with Lois Lane, also Flash, many others, he was not exactly lacking examples.

And Tim thinking for a single second that he couldn’t make him happy for not understanding that part of his life, compared to other people, not only hurt him, it made him angry. If he knew how much he had helped him, how much his life had changed, how happy he made him…

 “So, it’s okay. Don't worry, I really understand.” Tim continued, even in that resigned and sad tone. “I'm sorry I wasted your time...”

 That was the drop that filled the glass.

 Tim saying something like that, crying in front of him and saying that he understood it despite how much it hurt him, broke him inside. And that he really believed as a result of all this that he hadn’t been able to make him happy, that those two years together had been a lost time and not the best in Jason’s life, made him make the decision to send everything to hell and act. Fuck everything.

 As Tim tried to hold back his tears and dry the ones that ran down his face, he silently approached his nightstand to pull out what he had been hiding for months, then turned back to him, determined.

 “Tim, listen to me.” He started to say as he approached him again. The younger didn’t dare look at him. “I invited Kory to those places because I needed to know her opinion about them. She’s one of my best friends and the person with the best criteria I know about that kind of things, but we couldn't access there without a reservation, so I had to take her.”

 Tim sniffed again and the tension in his shoulders eased a little, he seemed to be listening intently, almost hopefully.

 “I didn’t spend the night there; I was on patrol. You can check it, I faced Mr. Freeze in the town hall square, there are videos and reports about it. And if that’s not enough and you don’t believe me now, you can ask Starfire personally later.” He explained getting closer, surrounding the bed, and placing himself in front of him. “The thing is, I did all that behind your back because I really needed her advice and help.”

 Tim rubbed his eyes, still without looking at him.

 “For what?” He asked in that weak, broken voice.

 “Look at me.”

 What Tim saw when he finally dared to look up, was Jason kneeling in front of him and showing him an engagement ring.

 “Timothy Jackson Drake, do you want to marry me?”

 Time seemed to stop completely; Tim's eyes couldn’t open more because of the impression. Jason swallowed hard and buried his nervousness to continue speaking.

 “I’ve been wanting to ask you for months, but I really didn’t know how. I don't care if you are a civilian or not, I love you and I wanted it to be a surprise, something special.” He sighed somewhat agitated, the uncertainty at his answer was too much. “I no longer have to reveal why, but in my life I have learned that I must cling and keep by my side everything that makes me happy for as long as I can, and my happiness is you. So, what do you say?”

 Tim was still frozen, stunned because all the information he had to assimilate. Not only because Jason had not cheated on him as he thought, but he had been planning how to propose to him. He was thinking he didn’t want to be with him and then he just discovered that he wanted to spend their lives together, it was too sudden.

But despite having to go from one extreme to the other so quickly, Tim seemed to assimilate at last when those tears turned into ones of happiness and a smile began to grow on his face.

 “Yes.” He replied with a sigh of relief. “Yes, I do.”

 Jason couldn't help but smile too, happiness flooding him completely, his answer echoing in his head and brightening every part of his being. It didn't take him long to get up to catch him and hold him tight, both of them letting out a relieved laughter. Words weren’t enough.

The tallest wiped the tears of his now fiancé, with affection and devotion.

 “I should have thought how difficult is to hide something from a detective.” He said placing a lock of his hair behind his ear. “And this time you didn't even have to do much to discover me.”

 Tim smiled and shrugged, his eyes shining with love and relief. Almost seemed that he was going to cry again when he grabbed his hand and put the ring on him carefully. Jason's heart squeezed at the sight because it fit him perfectly, and it was his, all his, forever.

 When Tim leaned down to kiss him, he didn't even hesitate. He was more than willing to love his detective for the rest of his days, and he would make sure to tell him in every moment.

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 39

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 39 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

When the jet started to descend, Chloe was a little bit nervous again. Not sure what to expect. But it went smoother than she had thought it would and it wasn’t too bad. The pilot was good at his job and always did nice landings, that’s one of the reasons why Loki had hired him.

It was a short drive from the private runway to the dock where there was a small speed boat waiting for them.

The driver, Lucas, carried their bags from the car onto the boat and handed Loki the keys for said boat.

‘Have a great stay, Mr Laufeyson.’ He said politely with a bow of the head.

‘Thank you, Lucas. If you can be here to pick us up on Tuesday at two in the afternoon. I won’t have my mobile on, so any issues contact the house phone.’

‘Of course, Mr Laufeyson.’ He nodded with a smile.

Loki took Chloe’s hand and led her onto the boat. There were life jackets waiting for them, Loki made sure that Chloe got hers on first and that it was on securely.

‘Don’t want you falling into the sea.’ Loki was very focused while he tightened various straps, Chloe couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face.

‘There we go.’ He said, pleased with her life jacket he smiled at her and cupped her cheek.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled back at him.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside how he was looking out for her. So attune to her health and safety.

It was exciting being on the speed boat, even though Loki didn’t make it go as fast as it could. They were in no rush so he took it easy over the waves, not wanting Chloe to get sea sick.

‘There it is.’ Loki grinned and pointed ahead of them.

There was a small island that was coming into view. Chloe’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She could see the beautiful looking villa just off the beach, surrounded by a few hills and some small forest areas. The villa stood out well because it had white walls with a lovely red colour slated roof, with plenty of large windows.

‘So there’s absolutely no one else on the island?’ She asked, struggling to believe that he actually owned the entire thing.

‘Not a soul. Apart from some birds.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Wow.’ She kept staring at the island as it started getting larger and larger. ‘And you said it was a small island!’

‘It is, in comparison to a lot of others.’ He grinned. ‘But I am glad you think otherwise.’

‘This is just insane.’ She shook her head, making Loki chuckle again. He enjoyed surprising her. And he was a man that was definitely full of surprises.

When they got to the beach, Loki jumped off the boat and held his hand out, helping Chloe off before then grabbing their bags. He tied the boat to a post further up the sand, making sure it wouldn’t get taken out to sea.

Chloe was already wandering slowly up the beach with her bag, taking it all in. Loki easily caught up with her and slid his arm around her waist, smiling down at her.

‘Do you like it?’ Though Loki could tell by the look on her face what the answer was.

‘I love it! It’s stunning.’ She grinned, her heart was racing with excitement.

Loki led her up towards the villa. It was up some steps and had a perfect view out to the ocean. You could just see mainland in the far distance.

As soon as Loki unlocked the villa and pushed the door open, Chloe rushed inside to take a look around. Loki watched in amusement, Chloe was like a kid in a candy shop as she rushed around all the rooms, ooo’ing and aah’ing at every room. Plus a swearword or two in shock when she saw the likes of the swimming pool outside that overlooked the beach, it was huge and had a lovely patio area next to it that also went undercover. There was a hot tub too and a large barbecue installed with stone built around it, so it blended in well.

‘Did you have this place built yourself or did you buy it like this?’ Chloe asked when Loki caught up with her after putting their bags in the master bedroom.

‘I had it built. When I bought the island I wanted a blank slate, so I could build my own home away from home, exactly as I wanted it.’ Loki draped his arm over her shoulder and guided her through to the kitchen.

‘It’s absolutely amazing. Really beautiful!’ Chloe said as Loki went and opened a secret looking cupboard, revealing an array of alcohol.

Chloe face-palmed at how well hidden, yet well stocked, the cupboard was. Loki just grinned at her and poured them both a drink.

With drinks in hand, Loki showed Chloe their room. Of course it had an en-suite and was very luxurious. She fished out her bikini, wanting to go for a swim as Loki had suggested they swim before drinking too much.

‘Who says you’re getting to wear a bikini?’ Loki growled, grabbing her wrist before she could make it to the bathroom to get changed.

‘What else would I wear in the pool?’ She knew what he was going to say, though.

‘One rule. No clothing of any kind is allowed in the pool.’ He wiggled his eyebrows and prised the bikini out of her hand, tossing it behind him onto the dresser.

Chloe opened her mouth, about to protest in worry of someone seeing. Then she remembered where they were. And she didn’t know what to say as a comeback to that.

Loki smirked in triumph when she couldn’t think of anything to say in response. He gripped her chin and kissed her, then stepped back and started removing his own clothes. ‘Come on, doll. Get naked.’

Chloe bit her lip and started taking off her clothes too. But as she took her dress off, she realised something…

‘SHIT!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Loki frowned, pausing with his trousers down around his ankles as he looked up at her, concerned.

‘I… I must have left my knickers on the plane! I forgot them! What if the cleaner finds them under my chair?’ Her eyes were wide in panic.

Loki threw his head back laughing. He finished removing his clothes, including his boxers, then stalked over to her. She tried her best to keep her eyes up on his, instead of looking down at his semi erection.

‘Don’t worry, doll. I’m sure the cleaners find much worse on other private jets.’ He chuckled, amused at how horrified she was. And he slyly unclasped her bra and pulled the straps down off her shoulders.

‘But… They’ll know it’s your jet…’

Loki flicked her bra to the floor, then cupped her face and kissed her forehead. ‘Relax, Chloe. Trust me, they’ll have seen worse. It’s just a company here in Greece anyway that deals with the cleaning on this end. The cleaners won’t know who the jet belongs to.’

He stepped away and bent over to pick up his trousers. Chloe was momentarily distracted at how amazing his ass was. She wanted to just bite it…

‘Besides.’ Loki’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he stood up straight and turned around to her. ‘I wouldn’t leave these delightful garments behind.’ He grinned cheekily, holding up said knickers.

‘You fucker! You had them all along!’ She snarled and launched at him, making him laugh when she tried to wrestle him down, but he just stood like a marble column, laughing.

Loki wrapped his arms around her and threw her up over his shoulder, she just huffed in defeat. ‘You’re an ass!’

Loki chuckled and gave her bum a slap, making her yelp.

‘Behave, doll. Or I’ll redden this lovely behind of yours.’ He growled.

Chloe didn’t want to admit that the mere threat, and taster, had her clenching her thighs together a little, not entirely opposed to the idea. But with how powerful his swing could be when he wanted to, she decided against asking for it.

Loki carried her out to the pool. Without any warning or putting her down first, he just jumped straight into the deep end.

When they came above water, she couldn’t resist splashing at him and then swimming away while giggling.

‘Oh you are so asking for it!’ Loki called out and swam after her.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see him above water, she could just make out his form underneath. Coming after her like a shark. She squealed loudly and tried to swim faster, but Loki was a strong swimmer and managed to grab her ankle, hauling her back to him.

The two enjoyed their swim together. They mainly messed around, teasing one another. Loki was enjoying this playfully braver side of Chloe that was coming out. And Chloe was enjoying the calmer, playful side of Loki too. He just seemed a bit more relaxed as soon as they stepped onto the island. Though she wasn’t surprised really, considering he was basically on twenty-four seven at home.

But she was hopeful, perhaps being alone on an island with Loki wasn’t going to be such a scary thing after all.