#Lying on court documents probably

[onlyhuis]

pro bono

member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!

you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.

the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.

and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.

the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.

but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase. 

it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds. 

tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.

you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.

your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”

all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.

“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”

“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.

he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”

“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.

without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.

finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.

his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night. 

“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning. 

still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.

“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.

he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”

you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”

he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”

you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more. 

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#1k #kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios

[osirisius]

For anyone watching Quiet on Set and think Drake was lying about Brian...

One, there's court documents. Two, the letters to the judge were all victim blaming Drake. Drake is the victim, not the abuser. Three, stop throwing that he talked sexually to a minor out there to excuse him being raped, especially when the court hearing about it found a shit ton of evidence that the girl lied about not only her age but a bUnch of other stuff.

As for if you think he's faking it because of the way he spoke about it... As someone who was sexually abused off and on for yEARS, I can't talk about what happened to me in a serious manner. I do basically what he did: nonchalant, avoiding graphic details, saying "just imagine the worst thing", and even making groaning noises. It's uncomfortable to talk about, it's not something you should have to talk about because it's not something you should have experienced.

How do you talk about it? You try being raped severely and talk about it detail to detail in a serious manner. It's been a decade for him, he already had to tell the cops every single painful detail, he's probably numbed himself out to the details but it's still uncomfortable to talk about.

It's been almost two decades since the first thing I can actually remember much of went through happened to me, and I still can't talk about it. I can't talk about any of it in person to people, let alone a documentary about it.

Leave him alone, god damn.

#rambles #quiet on set #drake bell #rape tw

[tentacle-therapissed]

Depp Defender Logic

Amber’s admittance to hitting Johnny in an audio recording means she’s clearly guilty! Case closed! Oh, but Johnny’s admittance to headbutting Amber in an audio recording doesn’t necessarily mean anything, and neither do the texts he and his personal assistant sent to Amber apologizing for him kicking her. 

One of the worst things Amber did was cut off Johnny’s finger. This is definitely what happened despite the fact that Johnny said in multiple private conversations with close friends, doctors, and Amber herself that he cut his own finger off. His exact phrasing doesn’t matter because he clearly meant that she cut it off. Another piece of evidence that Amber’s lying is her accidentally admitting to using a bruise kit instead of a color correcting kit on the stand. There is absolutely no ambiguity in this phrasing and it’s completely unfeasible that she would have momentarily forgotten the exact name for a bruise covering kit and accidentally said ‘bruise kit’ before remembering that means something else already and immediately correcting herself.

She’s also called him cruel and horrible things like a fat old man and a baby. This is why she deserved to be called a ‘gold digging, low level, dime a dozen, mushy, pointless dangling overused flappy fish market’, a ‘waste of a cum guzzler’, a ‘50 cent stripper’ a ‘worthless hooker’, a ‘filthy whore’, and much more in verified texts sent by Johnny where he also said he would ‘smack the ugly cunt around’ ‘drown [and] burn her’ and ‘fuck her burnt corpse’.

All of Amber’s witnesses that testified to seeing bruises or witnessing Johnny hurting Amber must be getting paid by her. Johnny’s witnesses, on the other hand, are way more credible- the fact that they’re all on Johnny’s payroll doesn’t mean anything. Whitney Henriquez’s testimony doesn’t mean anything, because of course she’d defend her own sister!! Christie Dembrowski’s testimony, however, clearly shows what a good soul Johnny is. 

Also, Amber and her witnesses were clearly lying because there were minor discrepancies in the details between their testimonies. The 80+ times Johnny lied on the stand, backtracked from previous testimonies, and tried to deny having said documented incriminating phrases doesn’t mean anything because he was probably just confused because he’s a poor traumatized little boy.

Dr. Dawn Hughes, the board certified psychologist who’s been treating Amber for years, is lying on the stand about everything because she looks mean and ugly. Instead, we should listen to Shannon Curry, the young and beautiful psychologist who diagnosed Amber with two personality disorders within a day of meeting her and claimed that real PTSD victims are unable to function in day-to-day life.

Camille Vasquez is such an icon for ripping Amber Heard to shreds, mocking her SA story, claiming that Johnny was the reason she got her role on Aquaman, trying to argue that Amber posted a video at Coachella with friends to send a message to Johnny, and using medical records that describe Heard as a ‘well nourished male’. Ben Rottenborn and Elaine Bredehoft, on the other hand, are terrible and unprepared lawyers who made mean spirited reaches in their cross-examinations.

Amber smiling a few times in court proves that she’s guilty and that she’s revelling in all of this. It’s honestly disgusting. Also, she’s way too emotional in her testimony. Also, she’s not emotional enough, which makes her look ingenuine. Anyway, isn’t it so funny and cute how Johnny kept smiling and smirking and making little quips during his testimony?

Clearly Amber’s guilty here since she was arrested for domestic violence in the past, even though her charges were dropped immediately after and the ex in question has come out saying it was a misunderstanding based in homophobia and misogyny. Meanwhile, all of Johnny’s exes have supported him, proving his innocence- except for Ellen Barkin, who is old, jealous, bitter, irrelevant, and clinging to the past. Oh, did you say something about Johnny Depp’s public image as the ‘bad boy of Hollywood’ who repeatedly abused drugs, trashed hotel rooms, and got in trouble with the police for being aggressive all the way back in the 90’s? I conveniently don’t recall any of that. All I know is that he visits kids in hospitals sometimes.

Also, he’s the good guy in the assault case he’ll go to court for next month, because he was just defending a homeless black woman from being called racial slurs. This behavior is very in character for Johnny, who has defended racism, dressed up in racist costumes multiple times, used plenty of racial slurs (or at the very least, offensive and derogatory terms) himself and once joked that he ‘shot a few ne****s in a club on Sunset Boulevard’.

Amber is a terrible actress and she’s putting on the performance of a lifetime to convince everyone of her innocence. Johnny Depp is an amazingly talented actor and you can just tell that he’s innocent and genuine by the way he’s behaving.

Amber is dragging this out when Johnny just wants to move on with his life. It’s her fault that he sued her repeatedly for an article that never directly mentioned him, thrusting them both into the public eye with overwhelmingly negative attention surrounding her and overwhelmingly positive attention surrounding him.

Seven un-sequestered jurors found Amber guilty of defaming Johnny Depp in her statement ‘I spoke up about sexual violence and faced our culture’s wrath’. This is a more accurate conclusion than the three other judges who found her allegations of Depp’s abuse to be substantially true.

#wonder what theyll have to argue about here #anti johnny depp #johnny depp is guilty #johnny depp is an abuser #johnny depp is a wife beater #amber heard is innocent #amber heard #i stand with amber heard #justice for amber heard #johnny depp vs amber heard #johnny depp #johnny darvo

[carriesthewind]

Hey, I love your writeups for the ChatGPT case! There's one thing that's kind of confusing me though. You (and the judge) seem to be saying that the good faith argument makes sense for the March 1st opposition but not the April 25th affidavit. I'm not a lawyer, but the more I think about it the more I feel like the other way around makes more sense.

Regarding not reading the cases: if I was looking for a book, even because someone said it doesn't exist, and I found a book that had the right title, author, and cover, and wasn't obviously a fake book (like, no words on the pages, or something), I think I'd be convinced. If I'm supposed to think it could be a forgery, I don't know how I could tell by reading it. How hard is it to write a fake opinion that looks real? What tells would you look for? And why would anyone write one? It seems to me like the only thing that reading the cases would prove is whether or not it was generated by a bleeding-edge large language model. (This is setting aside all the warnings they had to ignore that ChatGPT specifically isn't a reliable source. And the fact that they didn't even annex the "entire opinions" they were ordered to. And that they didn't even seem to realize that they were being accused of citing bogus cases. And that they should have read the cases anyway, possible fakery or not. And the way they tried to downplay it afterwards. God, there is so much stupid in this case. "The ChatGPT lawyer" really doesn't do it justice.)

The opposition seems less defensible. Schwartz didn't just find and submit documents, he submitted assertions about the contents of cases without reading said contents. Why would you use a "search engine" to write your arguments for you? That's your job. How can you claim in good faith that precedents you didn't read are in favour of your position? Even if ChatGPT really was incapable of making up cases, if they'd found all the cases on Google Scholar and annexed them, they could still be in deep shit, right? They could be sanctioned if they misrepresented the contents, or at least lose the case if the interpretations are dubious. Not to mention the legal argument about state law in a federal case - that's something I would expect a lawyer to know to check for.

Am I missing something? You've anticipated all the judge's points and it's probably me who's wrong here. Just trying to understand.

Hi! Thank you for the question. I think I understand your confusion, and I am going to try to clear it up - let me know if this makes sense.

The difference comes down to the idea that when he submitted the opposition, he was doing very poor work and was not acting reasonably. However, when he submitted the fake cases, he was knowingly lying to the court.

For example: for my job, I use secondary sources that other people have written to explain the current state of the law. Those secondary sources refer to, cite, and summarize various cases. When I use a secondary source, I don't rely on the source - I use it as a jumping off point to look up the cases myself and do additional legal research. But, based on my experience, I expect the summaries of cases in good secondary sources to be more-or-less accurate.

Now, that doesn't mean it is okay for someone to submit a legal brief based solely off the summaries in a secondary source - as you say, you can't know for sure the summaries or correct (and "more-or less" leaves a lot of wiggle room). And there is a lot of potentially relevant information that is left out of the summaries. And even if they are correct, you don't know if they are still good law - they may be out of date.

But "being a bad lawyer" is not sanctionable misconduct. Especially because with sua sponte sanctions, the question isn't whether Schwartz was reasonable (he wasn't), but if he was acting in subjective bad faith, which in this case means essentially that he was knowingly lying to the court.

If he, as he says, genuinely thought the cases he was citing in the opposition were real cases and the bot was accurately summarizing their contents, he was not knowingly lying to the court. He was doing terrible work, but again, being a terrible lawyer is not sanctionable misconduct.

But - and here is where maybe I think the confusion is coming in? - when he submitted the fake opinions, he was making an assertion to the court about the contents of the cases. He was telling the court, "these judges wrote these specific things in these specific cases." (And in terms how hard is it to write a fake opinion that looks real - those cases did not look real. Anyone with any legal training, even just glancing at them, would realize something seemed wrong.)

It was unreasonable for him to cite the cases without reading them in his opposition, but at that point, he can at least try to argue that he had reason to believe the citations and summaries were accurate. Once he was put on notice, continuing to "assume the cases were real" without checking and reading them was no longer plausibly good faith.

And to return to your analogy - he didn't just "find a book" that had the right title and author and so on. He went back to the same source that had given him the titles, and asked it to provide him the full text of the book.

For an analogy: Imagine you are writing a research paper. It would be like if you were emailing a friend looking for a published scientific article to support your research, and they gave you a citation and a summary of the article, and you relied on that article in your paper. That would be unreasonable, but you could honestly say you thought your friend was being honest in providing you information. But now image a bunch of reviewers came back to you and said, "hey this article might be fake, we can't find it." And so you went back to your friend and said, "hey, can you give me that article?" And then they sent you an email back that said, sure! And they sent you about a thousand words in the body of the email. And those thousand words were complete nonsense, where in the beginning it says this was a study on the evolution of bacteria and in the conclusion it was talking about the behavior of the two sample groups of primates. In that case, if you printed out those thousand words and gave it to the reviewers and said, yep, look, the article is totally real, here is the text of the article, the reviewers could reasonable conclude that you were intentionally lying to them.

That was a lot of text, but I hope it helped!

#ask

[audreydoeskaren]

How accurate is the book East Asia? (Berg Encyclopedia of World Dress and Fashion) Volume 6 editor John E. Vollmer (the Qing- modern era parts about Han Chinese fashion)

I looked it up just now and oh god it's the worst flaming pile of trash I have ever seen. Great way to spend the afternoon with rage. The format itself immediately raises red flags since it's a borderline ethnographic account of 'national' dress which necessarily will omit details about individual periods in fashion history in order for the narrative to work. It's doing research ass backwards in that it uses modern representations of ethnicity and identity (in things like haute couture and period dramas which have no authority on history) as a starting point, and then backtracks to find historical precedents that justify its legitimacy. A good, critical fashion history text will provide a linear account of the development of fashion in the region we now know as China that also includes discussions of when current representations of ethnicity or nationality became popular and not fucking regurgitate their propaganda.

Like, the section about the cheongsam by Valerie Wilson Trower is an unironic copy of the origin myths that cheongsam tailors and shops use to sell their products, which is not surprising considering that the author seems more interested in the afterlife of the cheongsam in Western haute couture than its actual life in the first half of the 20th century. Some of the information about the cheongsam in the Republican and Mao eras is objectively incorrect, like the wild assertion that cheongsam with a symmetrical dajin was invented in the 1940s (! wtf), and shows a mind baffling level of ignorance about modern Chinese fashion history.

Take the overview about Han Chinese dress by Juanjuan Wu and John E. Vollmer, it jumps from Antiquity directly to the Ming 'restoration' of Han dress (yeah just taking that at face value aren't we) and then to the Qing and then to the 20th century IN 11 PAGES. How uncritical of history do you have to be to think you could summarize Chinese fashion history (or, well, 'ethnic Han dress') in this embarrassingly limited space. The conflation of court dress and fashion was a recurring theme, and apart from the lack of knowledge about civilian fashion it also calls into question whether court and ritual dress that served political and ideological purposes could even be considered ethnic dress, and if so, why. Because Chinese identity deserves to be conflated with political leaders and ideology? The severe lack of images anywhere also isn't helping---almost as if the authors knew that if they provided images some of their talking points would banish themselves into the shadow realm.

I think it’s just unbelievable and outrageous that Vollmer when writing the ‘historical evidence: China’ section was straight up LYING when he claimed that civilian fashion was not well documented unlike official dress. There are comparatively fewer resources yes, but he treats them like some rare unicorns when I, an amateur, can usually find plenty of visual evidence from the Ming and Qing from looking on the internet alone, and from reliable websites like museums. Instead of admitting he doesn’t know much about civilian fashion he just pretends like information about it doesn’t exist. Wow that’s a useful tactic I should use that sometimes when I don’t feel like doing research. I can think of no reason why a professional would have trouble finding visual evidence, it’s either a skill issue or he wants to exoticize Chinese historical fashion by pointing to its artificially raised entry barrier, like many colonizers have historically done to mystify China. Another reason is probably that this book is from the now ancient year of 2010, before the bulk of good Chinese language literature about historical (particularly Ming) fashion was published.

That does not, however, excuse the methodological problems with this book. I think the problem here isn’t whether this volume is ‘accurate’, but its approach and framework, i.e. why the authors chose to investigate Chinese dress through the lens of ethnicity and identity rather than, say, technological innovation, class difference, aesthetics or, you know, actual chronological descriptions of fashion. The individual objects represented don’t matter as much as the logic behind the representation, why certain objects are chosen and others not. Though I can certainly say with confidence that this turd masquerading as a book is not accurate. It's treating Chinese fashion history like a joke, and if this is the average quality of research in this 'encyclopaedia' all the other areas covered aren't looking promising either.

The purpose and history of ethnographic encyclopaedias like this as colonial modes of knowledge production popularized in the heyday of Western colonialism and scientific racism should be sufficient to alert us to their unreliability. The chief goal of projects like this is not to initiate or foster a scholarly interest in non white fashion history but to teach white Western people how to think about non white places, and encourage them to use the arts and cultures of said places as they please. This is made evident in this volume by the authors’ preoccupation with how Chinese ‘ethnic dress’ is used in Western media and grand narratives about Chinese dress that cater nicely to existing Western ideas about China rather than a factual discussion of fashion driven by fact based research. There are no construction diagrams of garments, no explanation of the layers or sequence of dressing at any moment in time, barely any images of fashionable clothes themselves. Instead, we are treated to colonial treasures like Trower calling the cheongsam ‘Suzie Wong dress’, which is so unbelievably racist since not only was The World of Suzie Wong a Madame Butterfly type Orientalist movie, she also only referenced it because it was responsible for bringing cheongsam into the Western popular consciousness, making it very clear whose perspective she was coming from. Vollmer’s utter silence about the colonial routes through which Chinese artifacts landed in Western museum collections (he credits them to ‘adventurers and business people’) is honestly uncomfortable to read and tells you everything you need to know about the power imbalance behind this book. The authors are likely not actively being racist, they nevertheless appear to belong to a long Orientalist tradition that manufactured knowledge about the Orient for Western consumption. It’s funny because in some places the authors show an awareness of how ethnic dress was a social construct that inevitably intersected with things like class, but then go on to discuss the fashion of no social class in particular detail. This is, for some reason, quite a common phenomenon in anglophone Chinese fashion history literature where the author lays out a very promising framework in the introduction that aims to be intersectional and critical, but then spectacularly fails to deliver in the body text.

Well, excuse me for the long rant again, I have to get it out of my system. The only redeeming factor for this book is that it’s by no means unique in its mediocrity and caucasity, it’s a condensation of most English language (and oftentimes Chinese language) literature about Chinese fashion history. Cringe is the norm not the exception.

#orientalism can eat shit #chinese fashion #colonialism #racism #rant #book review

[sgt-morgan]

Robin Bites Back 🖤

Summary: Meet the Robinsons but with Fuck words and Vigilantes. You’re gonna love it.

Warnings: AFAB and female identifying reader, Mentions of g!ns, Cannon typical violence, crude language, probably blasphemy, illusions to sexy times, Matt’s dangerously beautiful ass, Deadpool. You get the drill.

A/N: here’s hoping tomorrow we have a little more Matt in our lives. If not imma blow a goddamn gasket.

Pt. 1 Guessing Game.

Pt. 3 The Test

DD Masterlist

Matt knew you finding out about his being Daredevil could only cause trouble. There was no other way around it. You knowing had been trouble of the highest order, and you find newer, weirder, ways to prove it every day. Trouble of the highest order. Your jokes only got worse and more frequent, but when you meet all his vigilante friends, putting them in their place seemed to be your new favorite pastime. You first proved it with Spider-Man.

Stumbling in at four AM should mean waking you, but for some reason, you were awake. If he had to guess, you were reading over court documents that he told you needed reading three months ago, and you were just now reading them, but that didn’t matter. Matt could smell the sleep on your skin, the melatonin your body was producing changing your normal functions just enough to give him a sense of your sheer exhaustion. your tiny cold shivers even though the apartment was fairly warm, your tear stained cheeks from yawning, your glacial typing speed, the signs radiated from where you sat. You smelled of him, his shampoo and body wash, his shirt he wore to laze around the apartment yesterday, your deodorant and perfume that you always insisted on wearing at all times, it screamed of comfort, a radiating beacon of calm nestled into his couch and all he wanted to do was bury himself in it. Instead, he carried with him a half dead Spider-Man and an open wound you were gonna probably need to stitch. They had just finished stopping a robbery at a butcher in the seedy end of Hell’s Kitchen, but they hadn’t managed to catch the bad guy, who was insanely good with a knife. He roughed them up pretty bad, and this is how they appeared to you after that fight.

“Well holy shit!” You cried out when you noticed them, clutching your chest, shocked. Your heart rate had skyrocketed, you were blushing, and your blanket had fallen to the ground. So, if Matt knew you like he thought, It wasn’t the fact that he was injured, or that Spider-Man was injured either he presumed, it was probably because you were- “I’m like… half naked, so if your little vigilante buddy doesn’t have your same proclivities, I’m gonna put on pants and brb.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter groaned and smacked a hand over his eyes. Matt dropped him on the couch and flung his mask in the general direction of his trunk.

“Don’t apologize, Matt is always-“ you paused, registering Peter’s tone of voice, his countenance that you hadn’t really picked up on before. “Oh my god. Matthew Michael Murdock, is that a fucking child?” Matt cringed and he could feel Peter do the same.

“Uh… no?” Matt tried, knowing that there would be no way to fool you into belief that Peter was a big boy superhero, who could lift a truck with ease if he wanted, now to you he was a tiny little baby who you would attempt to adopt like a stray cat.

“You’re a shit liar, and your whole life depends on it.” She grumbled grumpily, and Matt smiled even though he should be irritated. He was in fact, not a shit liar, you were just really good at reading him, and it gave him some sort of warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

“No ma’am, he’s not lying! I just turned 18!” Peter tried to butt in helpfully, but he really was only making it worse. You groaned and Matt winced.

“This is so wrong. You, spider boy, take your hand off your face, you’re bleeding there and we got no idea where your hands have been.” You barked, pulling a first aid kit from under your sink and marching to the couch. “Move sexy, you’re next.” You said smacking his ass and making Peter giggle. He rolled his sightless eyes again, and went to the bedroom looking to shower and change while you sorted out first aid and clothing for Peter, he was starting to realize that you were totally gonna adopt the kid, and he wasn’t ready to be a vigilante father. A shower would help him organize a strategy to get you to back off, but he also forgets that you’re a lawyer too. Should have given up while he was ahead. By the time he got out, Peter had his head in your lap and was laughing through a wince as you stitched up a cut near his hairline.

“So, you recognized him bec-“ he was cut off by you snipping the last of the thread and gesticulating wildly.

“Listen kid, that ass don’t quit! Wether it’s jeans, a dress suit, the devil suit, the black suit, the new one, and god help me if he’s in his stupid silk boxers, it’s like a homing beacon. Round, perfect, and don’t get me started on his thi-“

“Baby! He’s 18!” Matt blushed and Peter only laughed harder.

“Yeah, and I’m teaching art history, Martholomew! High schoolers are all about that shit!” You tapped twice gently on the table, giving him your little winking signal to tell him you’re joking, it instantly made him smile. Everyone has a gift, yours just so happens to be cutting tension.

When you were in court, that smart mouth and keen wit of yours was a killer weapon, often winning you many a case, but when you used it to talk people out of their gloom, it was a beautiful bloom of spring, and Matt was thrilled to be the one that got to hear your musings on a regular basis. You made the smallest of phrases poetry, the finest of details something so titular to a sentence he forgets exactly where your point began and his ended. You were a true wordsmith. He loved it even more when you became a real comedian with those talents, only you having the ability to pull from him such belly laughs that left him in tears for hours from just one off handed joke you barely thought about. Your mind fascinated him, and he hoped to spend his whole life exploring its depths. Right now though? Right now he needed you to stop telling the boy wonder about how hot his thighs were.

“Our father in heaven woman-“ Matt grumbled and you gasped.

“Mattnelius!” You smacked a hand over your moth and chest. “That sounded very close to Blasphemy! And with a child present! You should be ashamed! I’m so sorry for his behavior Peter! Go shower, I’ll find you clothes.” You patted his arm and shooed him from your lap.

“No it’s okay, I’ll ju-“

“Baby we can’t-“

“Boys, I swear to fucking god if you don’t do what I tell you right now I’ll call Foggy, and that girlfriend of yours!” Matt and Peter both straightened up immediately. Peter rushed to the bathroom with a squeaked ‘Yes ma’am!’ and Matt sat next to you with his wound exposed. He sat in silence as you stitched his cut closed, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Honey, he’s not a cat we can’t just-“

“Mathew Michael Murdock, if you say I can’t keep Peter I will go work for Landman and Zach so fast it’ll make your head spin. Now, go get the extra sheets and pillow for the couch while I find the kid some clothes. That’s an order Batman, before Robin goes Jason Fuckin Todd.” You snapped and kissed his cheek aggressively.

“Yes dear.”

The next person you met was Frank Castle, and it was… something. Matt can confidently say that this one was the meeting he was most dreading, it wasn’t like their meeting was ever a good thing, so why would he expect him meeting you would go any better.

Frank was in town hunting down a terrible criminal, Matt knew that. Matt also knew that when Frank hunts somebody down, it’s usually quite explosive. What he didn’t expect, was for his mark to be your client. That client so happens to be the Butcher who’s shop he and Spider-Man stopped someone from robbing. Now that he thinks about it, it was probably Frank. Which means that Butcher probably wanted to eat your liver with a side of Fava beans and a nice Chianti. Yuck. He heard over the police scanner that shots had been fired in the vicinity of the offices of Nelson, Paige, and Murdock as he was out patrolling, and he remembered you saying earlier that you needed to sign and print some paperwork to get back to the judge on your current case. So when a description approximating Frank Castle then came through over the scanner, he booked it to the office. He vaulted in through the window, and there was your client, unconscious in your office, with a bullet wound. Matt would have expected you to be shook up about the whole thing, but instead he heard a shouting match go down.

“No you asshole, I didn’t know he is a fucking serial killer! I’m not omnipotent! Why don’t YOU tell ME what the fuck is going on, because APPARENTLY you LOVE playing God! I mean seriously Castle, what in the name of John Wayne do you think you’re doing? This isn’t the Good the Bad and the goddamn Ugly! You can’t just judge, jury, executioner someone in my goddamn office! Now there’s a fucking bloodstain on my rug, and I’m gonna have to talk to cops! I’m a lawyer and I’m dating a Vigilante Frank, I fuckin hate cops!” Frank’s heart was thudding at an unnatural pace, and he was rooted in place. He was terrified of his tiny girlfriend, and honestly it was hysterical. He couldn’t help but giggle.

“What the fuck Red?” He growled out as Matt stepped over to the unconscious man and proceeded to stop the blood flow so the man didn’t actually bleed out. “Why did you let your girl take him on as a client, are you fucking insane?”

“No, Castle we didn’t kn-“

“IM FUCKING SORRY? Did you just call Matt crazy? Didn’t you shoot him in the fucking head when you first met him?” She fumed and there was an electrical zapping sound, and he felt Frank flinch away from youu. That’s when he noticed that the burnt flesh smell wasn’t coming from the Serial killer, it was coming from-

“I’m sorry, but baby, did you tase Frank!?” He laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why the fucking riddler here isn’t dead!” You huffed, kicking the now groaning criminal in the head to knock him back out. “I don’t have the time to fill out the goddam paperwork! Now take your buddy Deadshot here, and get the hell out.” You grumble and pick up your phone.

“What are you doing?” Matt tilted his head as you dialed 911.

“Calling the cops Mathew, if I don’t, it’ll look suspicious, and I don’t really want to go in for questioning for my involvement in the murder of an ex client!” You growled, throwing a stapler at Frank that he caught with ease and placed on a filing cabinet.

“Ok Castle, let’s go” Matt grabbed his arm and forced him up the fire escape to the roof of the building.

“No fucking way, I’m going back and-“ He started, but you had just hung up the phone.

“If you don’t get out now, I’ll hand you to the police my godDAMN self, and I’ll make sure I tase you unconscious if I have to lock DD in a closet to do it!” She half shouted, Matt couldn’t see it, but he just knew Frank stood there and glared menacingly. Or well, he did until you flashed your taser at him again.

“FUCK! FINE!” He flinched, crawling out the window.

“Have I told you I love you lately?” Matt grinned, pulling you to him with a sweet kiss.

“No, in fact, you have not.” She huffed and pushed him towards the window. You didn’t have to have super senses to hear the cops pounding up the stairs to your floor. “You owe me Batman, now get out.”

Matt meandered his way to the roof, where Frank was still mumbling and pacing watching his target being loaded into an ambulance while handcuffed to the stretcher.

“Now he’s gonna get a cushy fucking hospital stay, when he could be dead.” Frank grumbled, swiping a hand down his face. “I’ll tell you what though, that old lady of yours? She’s…”

“A keeper? Crazy? Super hot? Yeah,” Matt nodded, crouching on a ledge to hear you and the officers better. You were fake crying, he grinned, you were amazing. “I know.”

“Yeah, that. Seriously though, that taser hurt like a bitch. She’s wild.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Real set of balls your girl. Tell her I said thanks, and if she gets in my way again I’ll-“

“You’ll what, get tased again? Because sure as fuck aren’t killing me!” She laughed from behind them and Frank flinched. “Now get the hell off my roof, do you need first aid?” When he shook his head no, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a gun.

“It was under my desk, be glad I saw it before they came in. I swear to God Murdock, if you say anything you’re sleeping on the couch.” She grumbled and stomped downstairs.

“Jesus red, she’s a-“

“Goodbye Frank!” Matt laughed, rushing towards a robbery happening two miles away.

Two weeks later had been kidnapped by vampires, and it had everything to do with, you guessed it, that serial killer cannibal you got arrested. Yes, Vampires, Matt could hardly fathom that outcome, let alone take on an army of the undead with just his blind ass and a 17 year old. So, Spider-Man called in the troops. Since everyone loved Peter, and everyone was curious about the woman who tased Frank Castle and lived to tell the tale, they all decided to be helpful without being dicks and Matt was truly grateful. He forgot though, that just because they behaved didn’t mean you would.

You were honestly ok, sure, you were surrounded by a bunch of people calling themselves the hand, there were fucking Vampires apparently, and they kept referring to Matt’s super hot and tragic dead ex girlfriend, but you could handle all that. What you couldn’t handle, was that you had to be in court to plead a very big fucking case that could actually earn you money, and you’re stuck HERE! Damn it all to hell, you told Mathew that the vigilante shit was fine if it didn’t fuck with your day job and now here you were, letting it fuck with YOUR day job. What a bummer. Then came the drugs.

Your mouth can only get you out of so much, and unfortunately, these ninjas were entirely unwilling to speak to the Deposition before risking your drug tests for work. At least they were fun drugs! Clearly, they were going to try and knock you out, but your lovely boyfriends buddies reached you before you got enough in your system to make you pass out. So, instead, you were subjected to very vivid and colorful fight sequences, like your brain was trying to put you in a Tarantino film without all the feet. It was Moonknight who removed the IV, and once he did, he was immediately shot three times, but instead of dying bloodied and broken in your lap like you thought he would, he got back up and kept fighting, the bullets falling to the ground as he went. He kept swirling and smashing heads, ridding the room you were in of Vampires and attempting to free you in the meantime, in moments of downtime you got to introduce yourself a bit.

“Shit dude, you’re like… invincible. DD, has gotta learn that one.” You laughed.

Moonknight cocked his head in your direction and you smiled with a nod. “Sorry I haven’t got you free yet hermosa! Little busy, but when I free up you’re Prioridad número uno!”

“Spanish? Cool, and no worries MoonBoy you keep doing the thing, I can wait. I’m not helpful at the moment anyway, can’t stand and WOAH! You can pull a knife from your chest!? Badass! Devilman needs to know the name of your suit guy.” You gasp as he pulls moondarts from the suit and starts slashing.

“Bueno, yeah, you’re definitely la novia then. My suit guy is an Egyptian god so I’m not thinking he’d like that Hermosa.” He winked and you laughed.

“Ooh cool, so you’re a pagan then? I can dig it.” You nod sagely, though with all the drugs, it doesn’t look it. Jake thinks you look more like a broken bobble head. He can’t help but appreciate the fact you’re not freaking out though, that was impressive.

“No, actually I’m Jewish, or well, Marc is Jewish.” He shrugs, “Same body different people.” He has no goddamn idea why he told you that but your mouth forms an ‘o’ like you get it perfectly and you smile. All the while, Jake is still killing vampires left and right while chaos reigns around them.

“Like the movie with James McAvoy uh… SPLINTER! That’s right, splinter. NO WAIT! SPLIT!” You proclaim with a snap of your fingers. “No wait, that’s probably offensive, that guy in that movie was an asshole. You seem chill. The idea is still there though, multiple people, one brain. Very fun.”

“Si, ¡Exactamente! Damn, nobody has ever gotten it that quick.” He muttered and Steven took over the body, having cleared an opening to get you out of the fray or handed off to the next person.

“Right darling! Let’s get you out that chair here-“ He cut your bonds easily and heaved you to your feet and instantly you almost face planted. “Shite, sorry!” Steven hissed balancing you again, “forgot about the whole being drugged thing!”

“New accent! This must be personality two, Hi personality two!” You smiled and patted his shoulder, missing the first pat but landing the second.

“Yes, it’s Steven, and you just spoke with Jake. Nice to meet you too dear.” He chuckled, throwing you over his shoulder and sprinting towards the stairs. He made it all the way there, slashing and punching and kicking as he went, before he had to set you on the steps to continue smashing heads.

“Sorry sugar, gotta go!” Marc plopped you on the stairs and turned to keep killing vampires.

“That’s ok third person I’m pretty sure is named Marc, I can crawl.” Marc was astounded to see you start taking the stairs on all fours, wandering towards the next vigilante that would inevitably pick you up and move you down the line. Daredevil said you were tough, but knowing and following an abstract objective while stoned wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.

“Goodbye I guess, don’t die.” Marc grumbled and nailed a vampire between the eyes with a moon dart making a wet thud as it struck home.

You, still off your ass on whatever they gave you, crawled slowly up the stairs. You flinched as bodies flew past your head and made sickening thuds on the stairs. “Oof, that had to hurt.” You muttered as one dude hit a railing hard enough to break his spine. Then, two doc martens thudded into your line of site and you looked up, very nervous. “Please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain…” you slowly follow the length of the legs and are relieved to see, “Jessica Jones!”

“Hello.” She smirked, and reached down with one hand, snatching you up by the collar and setting you on your feet. “You look like hell, I know all about that.”

“Hey Jess- wow you’re strong as fuck, kinda hot!- please don’t wait no-“ she let go and your knees buckled, you started to fall and you felt a hand reach out and hold you up. You looked to see that that hand belonged to Luke Cage and his other hand was lashing out to throw a vampire over the rails of the platform you were on. “Sorry! I got drugged and I’m not so ready to use my legs yet.” You sighed flopping your head down to stare at your useless, traitorous, appendages.

“S’fine.” Luke said, shoving you away from the fray so you just flop into Jessica’s waiting arms again.

“Horn head said you were chill, but not freakin out while we all fight vampires and you’re on drugs… that’s pretty badass.” Jessica mutters, quickly shoving you back to Luke as she throws a wooden board through a man’s chest. You spark with pride at her compliment. Jessica Jones, super powered PI is impressed by your level headedness. Sick.

“Thanks Jones, your pretty cool yourself. ON YOUR SIX!” You yell and Jessica tosses you to Luke, taking out the scary vampire that almost chewed her face off.

“Thanks for looking out.” Luke grunts catching you under one arms and smoothly pushing you to sit on the wall behind him.

“No worries Mr. Cage!” You mumble. He throws the last two vampires in his way over the rails and then sits next to you to watch Jessica work.

“We’re past formalities, call me Luke.” He stretched his hand out and you just stared at it, limbs still numb. You feel like Westley after Miracle Max brought him back from being mostly dead. It was exhausting.

“God, sorry, I would? But it’s not gonna work right now.” You sigh, Luke nods and puts his hand down, staring at Jess once again. “God, you look like a love sick puppy. You good there?” You flop your head in his direction and he nods.

“Yeah, I just. You guys make it work, why can’t we?” He shakes his head and gestures at Jess and you are bamboozled. Really? Relationship troubles? You’re fighting Vampires, this is life or goddamn death here, the Dr.Phil shit can wait…. Then you think, you know what? Fuck it. You kinda get it. There’s something about an apocalypse that makes people question their lives.

“Can I be honest?” You’re not slurring every other word now, so it must be wearing off. “Matt and I work because we communicate. Now, if I understand Jessica like I think I do from Matt’s stories of her, she is like trying to talk to an errupting volcano. Explosive, hot, and rapidly cooling to immovable rock. You gotta figure out how to be volcano proof. That seems like an impossible task, believe me, I get it. Getting Matt to communicate was like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. Hah, bible reference, I gotta remember to tell that one to Foggy. Sorry, not helpful. All this to say, I learned that it’s not hard to pass a camel through the needle, if you make it big and obvious, and unable to over look. It works even better if there’s an oasis on the other side, if you catch my drift, but it’s not impossible, just incredibly inconvenient.” You then pat Luke’s shoulder and nod him back over to his lady love, who was kicking major ass.

Luke processed your words with a nod, honestly? The advice wasn’t bad, it was weird, but accurate. Maybe Matt’s crazy girlfriend was right. Eye of a needle? He could work with that. Then he decided to help Jess before she shoved the needle up his ass for leaving her stranded.

You continued to crawl your way through the chaos, watching the various vigilantes do their various duties around you. The next run in was with Danny Rand. You could tell he was annoying from the jump.

“Hello, can I help?” Danny reached out his glowing fist and punched a vampire through a wall (which was cool), then hoisted you to your feet. “I’m Danny Rand, The Immortal Iron Fist, defender of K’un-Lun, Master of-“ Then you shoved him out of the way of a vampire who wanted to cut his speech super short by putting him in an early grave.

You groaned, “Jesus that was close, you’re mouthy, no offense, I am too. Can I be honest? I’m on a lot of drugs, we’re in a life or death battle with magic vampires, and it’s hard to concentrate when you keep saying shit nobody understands. Learn to shut the hell up. Cool glow hand though, you seem nice. Promise I’ll be less of a bitch when we meet again.” You promptly reached your hands above your head in a grabby motion and let Peter swing you to a balcony nobody could access, you let him set you up with his backpack, which apparently had water in it, and you sat and waited for the battle to be over.

You watched the various hero’s fight, and you were honestly impressed. Now out of harms way, you could truly appreciate how fucking cool your boyfriend was. All the people around him had crazy super powers. A dude who can’t die, a kid that can climb walls, two people with super human strength, and a guy that had a magic glow stick for a fist. All those powers, and your boyfriend still chose to go kick as much ass, if not more, than they were. It was kinda hot, no, let’s be honest. It was very hot. Eventually everyone stopped fighting, Vampires dispatched, regular humans headed to jail, etc. you watched as Matt visibly began to tense again, the panic hitting when he remembered he hadn’t talked to you yet.

“I’m up here baby.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at your lack of ability to help, tapping the metal railing to give him an accurate location. Then he began scaling shelves and running towards you at top speed. “Hey, I’m drugged up, I can’t move. I’m totally numb.” You huff. “It’s ok though, it’s working it’s way out of me but I got no idea what it is.” He bundles you into his arms, and you breath him in, leather and cinnamon, your favorite.

“Oh thank god.” He grumbles burying his face in your hair as you finally manage to flop your arms around his neck. He stood and slung you onto his back, climbing down to where all the other vigilantes stood below you waiting on Matt. “Sweetheart did you meet-“

“Yup! Moonman, not a pagan, is secretly three people, can’t die.” You began pointing them out in turn, “Jess, PI, super strength, super hot. Luke, Bar owner, super strength, needs to work out his love issues. One punch man, glow hand, talks too much. Spidey, my baby, stray cat energy.” You nodded, drug induced loose lips be damned, you were proud of yourself. The vigilantes giggled at their descriptions in turn, even Danny found humor in your little rant. “Did I get em all?”

“Yeah baby, that’s everyone.” Matt laughed, kissing your head and giggling into your hair.

“She still hasn’t met Deadpool!” Danny shrugged, and Matt went rigid.

“Iron Fist, you gotta learn to keep your trap shut.” Matt mumbled.

“Oh god, them in a room would be torture.” Jess groaned.

“I don’t know, I quite like the idea. Sounds like a gas.” Steven shrugged in the Mr. knight suit.

“Sorry DD.” Danny grumbled.

“Oh, He has to meet Robin DD.” Spider-Man chuckled.

“Robin?” Jessica questions, looking at Spider-Man with one unwavering raised brow.

“We call her Robin, because the first time she met DD and figured out his identity, she told him that if she had known sooner she could have been the Robin to his Batman.” Peter grinned and looked at the still giggling couple that was attempting to patch each other’s wounds while denying they needed help, you know, like self righteous vigilantes.

“Ah,‘that’s adorable.” Steven muttered, tying up hostages and making sure their undead friends were gonna stay down this time.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” Luke nodded, helping Danny drag a mountain of a man to a corner while Jessica and Peter catalogued all of the chemical materials and evidence they could with their Cameras.

“She said I was mouthy.” Danny pouted, and all of the other hero’s in the room dissolved into laughter.

You two were lightly bickering back and fourth as they continued with cleanup and waited for their hostage to wake for interigation.

“DD, I’m fine.” you groan again as he feels at the wounds on your hand and forehead. He knows what you’re saying, but he can’t help but take in your racing heartbeat, the slight stench of fear, the terror trembling off you in waves. You put up a great front, and in the heat of the moment you’re a force to be reckoned with, but now that it’s all over, Matt can tell that leaving you alone while he does his duties to the city would be a grave mistake.

“I know! I know. I’m just-“ he fretted and you cut him off, but subtly clutch his hand tighter.

“You’re just full of nervous energy and ready to beat that guy you need answers from to a pulp. I get it. Go.” You roll your eyes fondly and stand, Matt holding out his arms to catch you as if you were a three year old just learning to walk, and you wobble immediately sinking back to the ground and leaning against the wall. The drugs haven’t fully left your system, it’s clearing up, but it’s not gone yet.

“No. Not while you’re injured, it will have to wait till Peter or Jess can take you ho-“ then his whole body tensed and his nose scrunched as if something just hit his senses with a crowbar and a man in a red and black morph suit—No shock there—with two Katanas and a gun busts into the now relatively calm warehouse.

“Alright! Who do I gotta kill. Point me in the way of Nosferatu, Daddy has some silver bullets and a deer park bottle of holy water, and I’m ready to interview with a vampire this bitch!” He stands, one katana and a bottle of water with a crudely drawn cross on it raised in presentation, at the entrance to the warehouse. When he comes in, He is the most absurd thing you’ve seen all evening, and there’s a guy with a glowing fist in the building. You all pause for a moment just staring at this absurd display of ineptitude, but Matt senses Deadpool assessing the situation, taking it all in, and Matt senses him shift his attention to you, and his muscles relax a bit and a grin stretched the terrible deformed muscle at his mouth, causing his skin to creak. Then, as Matt suspected, you are instantly thrown into fits of giggles. Your in full blown belly laughs, he can hear the way you struggle to breathe through your laughter, senses your abdominal muscles contracting, he can smell the salt of your tears as they run down your face, and for a moment he forgives the lunacy of Wade Wilson, and appreciates just how wonderful it is to hear the sweet sound of your laughter. He is thankful for the subtle loss of tension in your shoulders that Wade has so easily caused, just by being him. Then he smells old enchiladas, stale blood, and gunpowder and is reminded all over again why it is he avoids Deadpool at all costs. He’s an assault on the senses, and he’s a dumbass. If that weren’t reason enough, the man is hardly ever on the right side of the law, or decency, and to top it all off, he’s really fucking annoying. However, in this moment, Wade is sending clear signals that he is ready and willing to be his ally. Maybe Matt would need to rethink his stance on the Mirk with a Mouth.

“Fuck me, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while, and I just met a guy whose superpower is that he punches real good with just one fist.” You giggle into Matt’s ear and he can’t help but chuckle a bit as well, using this as an excuse to bury his nose in your hair, attempting to cover up the stench of Deadpool’s disgusting suit. “Who the hell are you, and how do we become friends? Also, they fuck the vampires in interview with a vampire, they don’t kill them. You’re thinking of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter.” You laugh brightly and thrust you’d hand out to be shaken. Matt resists the urge to smack that hand away from the bacteria infested glove, but is genuinely thrilled to hear the rustle of a glove being pulled from a hand as Deadpool receives your handshake.

“Well that’s easy pretty lady, you don’t fuck with me and I, won’t fuck with you. So are you the crazy bitch who tased Frank Castle or is DD here in for a few million Hail Marys?” Matt is baffled. Honestly, he is. Deadpool came in ready for a fight, and in a need for ardent chaos, and he was actually startled at how collected and calm he was in bantering back and forth with you. Totally at his ease in the steady, witty banter. It’s like you had stopped him in his tracks. Matt kept a close ear on your conversation as he began to help the rest of the group.

“So does he wear the horns when you do the deed, or do they only come out for birthdays and anniversaries?” Deadpool sits cross legged beside you, which is when Wade silently shoos him away. Why should he deal with all the boring stuff when there was a beautiful and interesting woman he could be talking to.

“Oh Mr.Pool, a lady never sucks and tells, but that Mask is pretty hot. The suit does nothing for his ass though.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head, and Wade snorts a laugh while Matt walks away to go deal with the rest of the group.

“He got a nice ass under all that pleather?” Wade huffs.

“Like you wouldn’t BELIEVE man. He’s honestly the sexiest man I know.” Matt shakes his head at your ardent praise with a big silly grin, and Jess bumps her shoulder with his with a breathy chuckle, handing him an unknown chemical for him to identify.

“Well, you’re in the company of absolute beauty now, you wouldn’t even believe how hot I am under here.” Matt can hear Spider-Man chuckling now and shaking his head, and he hears Moonknight mumble about what a lie that was.

“Oh really? Well, secret identities be damned, let’s get a peek at that face huh?” You laugh, and Matt hears the rustling of Fabric as Wade pulls off his mask. He can hear Danny hiss and feel Luke cringe as Wade’s face is revealed. He notes with pride that you never flinch.

“Oh god, Ha! You look like an Orc’s terrible premature love child with the corpse of Ryan Reynolds.” You laugh for a second, then stop when you realize Wade is staring at you slack jawed. “Oh! I’m sorry was that rud-“ you begin to fret, but Wade cyst you off with a boisterous laugh of his own.

“That is the funniest shit I’ve heard all day.”

You and Wade kept up the conversation, while the others began to clean up and categorize evidence. When it came to Vampires and the supernatural, the police were no help so the whole of Justice squarely rests on those who had the power to handle it. They were all biding their time and waiting on their hostage, they had officially gotten everything squared away, Spider-Man had called SHEILD to dispose of the Vampires, and now they sat in comfortable conversation, waiting for backup. When Matt began to hear their hostage stir, he alerted the others, and then they Started bickering over who should do what. It was getting pretty heated until you spoke with a finality that meant business.

“No! Webs can take me home, Moonknight and DD can handle the interrogation, Deadpool and Iron Fist can wipe out any stragglers (because I’m pretty sure some of them are playing dead.), Jess and Luke can handle shield, and then the spiderling can swing back here to help you finish the mission.” Your instructions were met with whining and protest (except for Matt, who knew better than to argue when you meant business), but you weren’t having it. “Oh! I’m fucking sorry, did I ask for all the whining? Or are you all a big group of superpower wielding toddlers!?” You snapped and everyone looked either impressed or properly chastened.

“No you’re right.”

“I guess we can-”

“I’ll get to use my holy water after all!” Came the murmur of replies.

“Good, now hop to it. Take me home spider boy!” You reach your arms out to Peter and he swings you up and out of the building leaving the rest of the hero’s to their own devices. About forty five minutes later, Peter comes back as they plan out what to do about the rest of the vampire problem, and what next steps need to be taken to solve it. All in all, it takes about two hours for Matt to make his way back to you, and when he does, you’re fast asleep. The shield agents reassured him that you just needed to sleep off whatever they gave you, and his other vigilante associates all complimented him on having an amazing girlfriend. His chest was swelling with Pride over how well you took things, and how much they admired you. You truly were an amazing woman.

You were sleeping so peacefully, Matt almost elected to take the couch so he wouldn’t risk waking you. He changed, and decided you would be more mad if he didn’t come to bed. He slips in next to you and preens when you wrap an arm around his waist and sling a leg over his hips. He nuzzles into your hair and cuddles you close, grinning at how wonderful you are to be lying there next to him. “Hi Angel, you ok?”

“Yeah Matty, ‘m fine. Just sleepy s’all.” You yawn so hard your eyes water, and Matt ‘awes’ placing a soft kiss to your crown.

“Well I’d say so, it’s not easy being Robin.” He huffs a laugh and you kiss him just below his collar bone.

“Oh yeah, I’m tough shit, might just graduate to Nightwing.” You mumble.

“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want.” Then you mumble something into his chest he doesn’t quite catch, and he asks you to repeat yourself.

“Nah, I’ll stay Robin, I could never ditch my Batman, I love him too much.” Matt’s heart swells to bursting and he almost tears up at the weirdly sweet sentiment.

“I love you too Robin, I love you too.”

#daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #netflix daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil one shot #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #Moonknight #jessica jones #Luke Cage #Deadpool #Spider-Man #punisher #Frank castle #Marvel

[freddiekolbeck]

{ taylor zakhar perez, 22, cis man, he/him } Is that  FREDDIE KOLBECK? A JUNIOR originally from NEW YORK, they decided to come to Ogden College to study MUSIC. They’re THE MISCREANT on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance. 

FULL NAME: hanno louis frederick kolbeck

NICKNAMES: freddie, becks

BIRTHDAY: 2nd nov

HOROSCOPE: scorpio

MBTI TYPE: enfp

SEXUALITY: bisexual

PET(S): none

OCCUPATION: actor/student

EXTRACURRICULARS: none

THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: persuasive, fun-loving, charming

THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: spiteful, irreverent, selfish

THREE SKILLS: lying, powering through a hangover/come down, being a bad influence

trigger warnings: drugs, addiction, violence, abuse, manslaughter

ADDITIONAL INFO: 

RELATIONSHIP TO GREER: childhood friend. freddie was probably the only one out of his friends who didn't have a crush on greer when they were growing up. no one believed it, though. all the hair pulling, throwing mud on her new white shoes, disapproving of everyone she dated. he was the guy all of her boyfriends hated, and she was the girl he told his girlfriends not to worry about. everyone was waiting for his confession, but it never came. instead, what had developed, was something more of a fragile co-dependency -- a friendship built on understanding, spite and control -- where it was less hateful than family but more binding than friends.

PLEASE EXPAND ON HOW THEY EMBODY THEIR SKELETON TROPE. the miscreant. it's the classic troubled child star story, with parents who exploited him from a young age and threw him into an environment where he could only learn from the worst. his ruined reputation precedes him. he's selfish, unruly and unstable. he's inconsiderate of other people's feelings and prioritises what will give him instant gratification. his drug abuse, of which he has been to rehab for three times now, only makes things worse. having emancipated from his parents and being blacklisted from hollywood, he's resorted to illicit means in trying to keep his name in the spotlight. try as he might, if he's going down, he's not afraid to drag everyone down with him.

BACKGROUND:

dad is a violent alcoholic hollywood exec who married a failed actress who is half is age. he got their maid pregnant, and she decided to stay with him and raise the child as their own, not out of the goodness of her heart or true love but because she's a natural social climber. it also gave her an excuse to run back to hollywood.

from a young age, he was put to work. taken to all the events and parties, left to his own devices as his mom mingled and tried to worm her way back into the golden circles.

but it was worse at home. his dad wasn't a pleasant man to be around. if freddie complained, his parents reminded him that he had to earn his spot in the family. and so, earn he did.

photoshoots, commercials, tv shows and then, eventually, the big movie franchise that would bring the kind of fame his mom had always wanted. he was everywhere.

he was happy, because it made his mom happy, and he thought this kind of attention was love. but with every move of his documented and criticised, he started to lash out.

he was drinking and doing drugs as a young teenager, no one was around to tell him it was wrong, and even if there were, he wouldn't have stopped. it was the only way he could handle the pressure.

by the time the final instalment of the movie franchise was starting to film, freddie had secretly been to rehab once, been arrested on a charge of assault for attacking paparazzi, and was causing issues on set as he returned to old habits.

after he was done shooting the last film, but before it was released, he takes his parents to court, wanting control of his own earnings. the film bombs and he's drowning in scandals: more arrests, law suits, cheating on america's sweetheart, also his co-star.

eventually, he gets what he wants but he's on his own. his parents blacklist him from hollywood, he's dropped from all projects and is deemed unemployable. his reputation is ruined. there's nothing left for him.

ogden was greer's idea. she'd be able to keep an eye on him, he'd be surrounded by his friends, true friends that know the real him. but college was not the right place for a boy with addiction.

his time at ogden was filled with more benders, antagonising people, and of course, like every icky white man, becoming a dj. he opened a club, giving space for people to be the worst versions of themselves.

then, greer doesn't come back and neither does freddie. however, unlike her, everyone knows where he went. his third stint in rehab made headlines once again, some news outlets were kinder than others, most were not.

upon his release, he returned to ogden but not for long, as his agent manages to get him booked onto a film, without auditioning! ironically, it's a recovering addict role. he gives one of his best performances, but it came with a cost.

his mother, having divorced his father with no prenup, was back in his life. there's premiers and pr circuits. he's drowning in debt. greer's still missing and there's ida's death. it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure how he'd spent his summer.

freddie can't afford another bad scandal. he's in his so-called redemption era, at least in the eyes of the public, and if another movie fails because of him then he fears he'll never get booked again. so, that leaves him with one solution: be better at hiding it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

the emma to his dexter? can also be platonic?

more coming soon!

IC QUESTION: PLEASE NOTE THE BELOW IS MANDATORY

You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?

freddie smirks sardonically, then begins to clap slowly. " that is some incisive questioning there, man ... " he slumps against the uncomfortable seat with the confidence and irreverence as someone who'd sat through many depositions in his lifetime. " i don't care who's told you what, but everyone at some point would've wanted her to go missing. " there was no point in lying about it. at the end of the day, this was all just a game. " everyone except for her new friends, probably. who actually didn't know her at all, and yet here they are ... all fucking crying over her. " he sighed exaggeratedly. " so melodramatic, don't you think? but, i guess that's greer for ya. " and as much as he hated her, he loved her in equal measure. " so did i want her to go missing? yes, of course. " a beat. then, it takes a solemn turn, " but i would've wanted her to come back. always. "

ADDITIONAL IC QUESTIONS: 

“Were you at the Commons the night of the fire? Do you know why students even were there when they should’ve been at the Commencement Gala?“ 

a wide, humourless grin spreads along his lips. he knows when there's bait dangling in front of him, and he'd be damned if it was his blood that drew the sharks out of the water. how greer would rejoice! " hmm, " he taps a finger against his lips, pretending to be deep in thought, a comically bad performance worthy of a razzie award, but there's a pained look in his eyes that tells another story, as if he'd seen something he couldn't quite forget. " i don't recall. "

“Over the past year, have you gotten any anonymous messages? Any threatening ones? Or any with…leading information?”

" check my dms, " he says, and it sounds like a brag but it isn't. " you'll find everything, from death threats to marriage proposals. " both equally as threatening. fan accounts counted as anonymous, right? " very fuckin' spooky, am i right? none about greer, though. " hands fold behind his head and he shrugs nonchalantly. " guess i'm just not that important. "

“What do you know about the nature of Greer’s relationship with Penelope Klein?”

" i fucked penny in greer's bed once. thought it might loosen her up a little. " a beat. " didn't work, though. " it had pissed greer off, which hadn't necessarily been his intention, but he had been looking to start a fight. " definitely wasn't me, " that didn't do the trick, " so must've been greer. her bed. maybe it brought back some bad fuckin' memories. "

#ogdenintro

[howthesleeplesswander]

MORALITY CHALLENGE.

bold all the things your muse has done (will / would do is in italics, bolded italics means they’ve done it before and will probably do it again)

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

Tagged by: I stole it off the dash :3c

Tagging: @greedbent | @hiisfire | @yaroudomos | @erabundus | @bitbrumal (for Dottore!) | @grislyintentions (for Zhongli!) | @drolliic (for Scaramouche!) | and anyone else who wants to! >3</

#《⭒✩⭒ || dash games 》 #《⭒✩⭒ || hc: mortally coiled (baizhu) 》 #me casually googling some of these to make sure I know what they actually mean #only for baizhu to be like “oH YEAH psht i've definitely done that” asdjfkd #the violent ones are only when he has no other choice 8') #and also sometimes in self-defense...which he takes too far as we see in his demo aslfskd #here's the proof everyone: baizhu looks like babygirl but dON'T LET THAT FOOL YOU #also me bolding/italicizing “accessory to a crime” and “harboring a fugitive” while looking pointedly at my bae over @ greedbent 👀👀😎👌 #this was fun I'll have to do this for kaeya sometime too B3c

[galerymod]

A myth (more rarely mythus, obsolete mythe, plural myths, from ancient Greek μῦθος, "sound, word, speech, tale, legendary story, tale", Latin mythus) is in its original meaning a narrative. In religious myths, the existence of humans is linked to the world of gods or spirits.

Myths claim validity for the truth they assert. This claim to truth has been criticised since the Greek Enlightenment by the pre-Socratics (e.g. Xenophanes, around 500 BC). For the Sophists, myth stands in contrast to logos, which attempts to justify the truth of its assertions through rational evidence.

In a broader sense, myth also refers to people, things or events of high symbolic significance or simply a false idea or lie*.

For example, the adjective "mythical" is often used in colloquial language as a synonym for "fabulous-vague, fabulous or legendary".

Wikipedia

How can it be that a man who describes himself in public as a successful businessman worth billions cannot pay a financial penalty and that someone wants to vouch for him?

Trump can't pay 450 million dollars

In February, former US President Trump was fined 450 million dollars in New York for fraud. Now his lawyers have announced: Trump cannot pay. According to his lawyers, former US President Donald Trump is currently unable to guarantee payment of a fine of more than 450 million dollars from a fraud trial. Despite great efforts and negotiations with around 30 companies, it has not yet been possible to obtain such a guarantee, according to a letter from his legal team to the competent court in New York. Several US media outlets unanimously quote from the letter, arguing that it would be "practically impossible" to make the payment on time.

Trump has received a refusal from 30 bail companies, according to a letter from his lawyers to an appeals court on Monday. Many would not provide collateral in excess of 100 million dollars and would not accept real estate as collateral.

Forbes magazine estimates the property entrepreneur's total assets at 2.6 billion dollars. Trump recently stated that his cash assets totalled around 400 million dollars.

"I thought he was a billionaire? Is he lying to the public or the court?" Law professor Andrew Weissmann poses the question of questions on X in relation to Donald Trump's liquidity: How much is there to the image of the self-made billionaire?

How much money does Trump himself have?

Last year, Trump testified in court that he had a cash fortune of around 400 million US dollars. The latest legal documents indicate that he does not have anywhere near that amount of money at his disposal, Professor of Business Law Will Thomas from the University of Michigan. However, he and the Trump Organisation would have significantly more assets at their disposal. His largest asset holdings are tied up in property. If Trump is unable to pay in other ways, he could be forced to sell some of his properties, according to Professor Thomas. His lawyers want to prevent this and warn that Trump would have no way of buying them back if he is successful with his appeal.

Where could the money come from?

Without liquid funds, there are two options for Trump to prevent enforcement for the time being.

Guarantees: A guarantee would probably be the only solution for him. This would allow him not to have to sell anything for the time being. At the same time, guarantors require collateral and often only accept cash or shares in return - not property. Trump also needs to find someone who is prepared to guarantee an enormous sum of over 550 million dollars.

Donations or campaign funds: He is also receiving support from private sources, but the sums are nowhere near enough. Trump supporters are collecting money for him on the internet, with over a million private donations having been collected so far.

Again and again, it is also about money from Trump's election campaign. Federal law prohibits Trump from using campaign funds for personal purposes. However, it is legally unclear to what extent campaign money from political action committees (PACs) and funds from the Republican National Committee (RNC) fall under this. But even these funds would be far from sufficient.

If he loses the aura of the successful billionaire self-made businessman, he also loses his aura of success.

mod

This kind of legal action would not only be a serious blow to Trump's finances, but also to his image, as he always praises himself as a brilliant businessman.

The biggest bankruptcies* of Donald Trump

It was always visible to everyone, but as long as you can keep generating capital, the myth can be maintained

Trump Ice

In 1995, Donald Trump founded the Trump Ice Natural Spring Water brand (Trump Ice for short) - his own brand of bottled drinking water. However, the sales figures were not particularly good. After missed payments to the producer and a lawsuit against Trump Ice in this connection, production was discontinued. Today, only bottles with collector's value are sold on eBay and the like.

Trump Steaks

Donald Trump founded his own steak company in 2007. The company was to be dedicated exclusively to selling his favourite food and running a steakhouse in Las Vegas. The prices for the steaks varied between 199 and 999 US dollars. Despite such bargain prices, the company had to close in the same year. The steakhouse was shut down after the health department found 51 health code violations.

Trump University

In 2005, Donald Trump opened "Trump University" - a distance learning university specialising in the real estate industry that was not officially recognised as a university. Enrolment cost up to 35,000 US dollars, but many of the course instructors, who were allegedly selected by Donald Trump himself, often did not have the appropriate qualifications. The school had to be closed down for good in 2011. Thousands of students filed a lawsuit against the former US president, who relented in 2017 and offered a settlement despite his supposed innocence. This was confirmed by the US Court of Appeal in 2018 and secured compensation of USD 25 million for the more than 4,000 ex-students.

New Jersey Generals

In 1984, Donald Trump bought his own football team, the New Jersey Generals. However, they did not play in the famous National Football League, the NFL, but in the smaller offshoot, the United States Football League (USFL). Just one year later, the team was bankrupt and the entire United States Football League with it. Trump had tried with all his might to bring about a merger of the UFSL with the NFL. This prevented Donald Trump from taking over a team in the NFL.

Trump Vodka

According to Donald Trump himself, he does not drink alcohol. However, this did not stop him from launching his own premium vodka on the market in 2005. However, production was discontinued in 2011.

Trump Magazine

Donald Trump made several attempts to land a hit in the luxury magazine segment. After two failed attempts, he launched the quarterly "Trump Magazine" in 2007, which covered topics such as yachts and other toys for the rich. However, the magazine was cancelled in 2009.

Gotrump

In 2006, Donald Trump ventured into a search engine for luxury travel. It included private jets, tickets for exclusive events and supposedly personal recommendations and travel tips from Donald Trump. However, it was shut down again after just one year due to poor reviews.

Trump: The Game

Trump tried twice to establish himself on the board game market with the board game "Trump: The Game", but failed twice. The game is, of course, about money. The game first came onto the market in 1989, but was discontinued shortly after its release. In 2005, he tried a new edition in collaboration with Parker Brothers, but this version also failed.

Trump Shuttle

In 1989, Trump bought his own airline, "Trump Shuttle". The airline was to fly business people back and forth between New York, Boston and Washington. The interior of the Boeing 727 was elegantly furnished with maple panelling and chrome seat belt buckles, and gold fittings were installed in the toilets. However, the luxury was too expensive for the passengers. Three years later, the over-indebted company was sold to US Airways.

Trump Entertainment Resorts

With the company "Trump Entertainment Resorts", Donald Trump operated several casinos in the gambling metropolis of Atlantic City, including: Trump Taj Mahal, Trump Plaza and Trump Marina. All were closed between 1999 and 2016, and the company filed for bankruptcy three times between 2004 and 2014. In 2014, debts are said to have totalled around 1.8 billion US dollars. Trump himself withdrew completely from the company in 2016 and sold his shares to billionaire Carl Icahn.

Trump Mortgage

In April 2006, Donald Trump announced the founding of his own mortgage bank, Trump Mortgage, at a press conference. He predicted a rosy future for his endeavour and that the bank would soon become the largest lender for home loans in the USA. However, as with "Trump Magazine", the timing was not exactly fortunate. Just one year later, the former US president's mortgage bank had to file for insolvency.

#myth #donald trump #successful businessman #or not #x #Law professor Andrew Weissmann #self-made billionaire #bankruptcies #wikipedia #Professor of Business Law Will Thomas #University of Michigan #forbes magazine #Trump Ice #Trump Steaks #trump university #New Jersey Generals #Trump Vodka #Gotrump #Trump: The Game #Trump Shuttle #Trump Entertainment Resorts #Trump Mortgage

[erabundus]

MORALITY CHALLENGE.   

bold  all  the  things  your  muse  has  done  (will  /  would  do  is  in  italics,  bolded  italics  means  they’ve  done  it  before  and  will  probably  do  it  again)

murder  /  manslaughter  /  assault  /  robbery  /  breaking  &  entering  /  theft  /  embezzlement  /  money-laundering  (assist  with)  /  kidnapping  /  torture  /  blackmail  /  arson  /  trespassing  /  treason  /  libel  or  slander  /  obstruction  of  justice  /  lying  to  law  enforcement  /  creation  of  a  weapon  /  espionage  /  riot  /  escape  from  lawful  custody  /  contempt  of  court  /  public  intoxication  /  conspiracy  /  accessory  to  a  crime  /  harboring  a  fugitive  /  bribery  /  perjury  under  oath  /  resisting  arrest  /  identity  theft  /  corporate  fraud  /  tax  fraud  /  document  forgery  /  destruction  of  evidence  /  assassination  /  counterfeiting  /  sale  of  a  controlled  substance  /  purchase  of  a  controlled  substance  /  failure  to  pay  child  support  /  hacking  crimes  /  threat  /  pick-pocketing  /  shoplifting.

#𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. ◟ hc .◝ #( honestly i think the only surprise is that it isn't one massive block of bold )

[tahinnia]

MORALITY CHALLENGE!

bold all the things your muse has done, will/would do is in italics, bolded italics means they've done it and will probably do it again.

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

"I don't care."

Fun fact: Tahinnia is very impulsive and her nature is quite feline so kinda like a cat she is an opportunistic hunter by instinct. Like how cats sometimes would torture birds and mice (or chase things without much thinking like laser pointers or toys), Tahinnia is kinda akin to that when under-stimulated (which is genuinely distressing on her side; even turning into physical discomfort. However, this does not justify her actions.) It makes her give in to chaos, which could result to killing many depending on how deprived she is from proper stimulation…

Tagged by: @fruityjunction @acoldsovereign @dragonballnewstar

(Thank you sm for tagging me. 🥺)

Tagging: Too tired to think. Steal it from me and tag me. I'll look.

#(ooc) #(tag games)

[fruityjunction]

୨⎯ Morality Challenge ⎯୧

✧.* Bold all the things your muse has done, will/would do is in italics, bolded italics means they've done it and will probably do it again *.✧

Chosen muse:

Finn

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

[ tagged by: @sadfruittheatre-rp ]

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[ tagging: @tahinnia ]

#((Such a sweet innocent little man did all of this #Finn #junctionquestionaires❓

[roseplendunce]

Morality Challenge!

bold all the things your muse has done, will/would do is in italics, bolded italics means they've done it and will probably do it again.

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

Tagged By: @acoldsovereign (thank you for the tag!) Tagging: @darkhxntrxss, @magickmuses (whichever villainous muse you'd like), @smokes-and-bullets, @pellucidape, @the-demonpr0digyy, @the-purest-majin and whoever else wants to do this

#A Bout of Divertissement (Dash Games) #A lot of these boil down to: He will/would do it if he was sure that he could get away with it #Also: Just because something isn't marked doesn't mean that he would necessarily be against it- #-it more than likely isn't relevant or seen as such. Same goes for the stuff that's striken out

[sadfruittheatre-rp]

MORALITY CHALLENGE

Bold all the things your muse has done, will/would do is in italics, bolded italics means they've done it and will probably do it again.

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

Tagged by @dragonballnewstar who wanted to see Bragi do crimes

Tagging: @cherryflann and @fruityjunction (choose whoever is funniest)

#tag games #((his crimes are very few and most of them are very silly in practice lol))

[monmuses]

«────── « HEADCANON » ──────»

MORALITY CHALLENGE

Tagged by: yoinked it from @general-kalani Tagging: @amadaans @muutos @dualitytransformation @nebula-drcams @wrensfeatheredpen and you! steal it from me

bold all the things your muse has done ( will / would do is in italics, bolded italics means they’ve done it before and will probably do it again )

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MUSE: Harriet Jekyll

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MUSE: Kyle Broflovski

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MUSE: Jesse Pinkman

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threat / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

#✨{𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔢; (𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔢) #✨{𝔭𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩; (𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫) #✨{𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 - 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔞𝔪 𝔦 𝔱𝔬 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢?; (𝔡𝔯. 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔧𝔢𝔨𝔶𝔩𝔩) #✨{𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔢��� 𝔧𝔢𝔴 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔧𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔶; (𝔨𝔶𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔦) #✨{𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥 𝔟𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰… 𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔶 𝔟𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰?; (𝔧𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔪𝔞𝔫) #✨{𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱; (𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔲𝔢)

[sadisticsongbird]

divided by the crown ~ peter parker

part three

a/n: y’all i am SO sorry. i thought i had queued this yesterday already because I had a funeral. but here it is. FINALLY. the last part of divided by the crown and i’m not going to lie, i am NOT going to miss it. although it was fun to write, it was difficult to continue working on it for a long length of time. i am however willing to answer any questions you may have about the series or write little blurbs here and there if they end up in my ask box. but without further adu...

summary: the close of your and peters royal adventure...

warnings: this has NOT been edited

word count: 9.5k

You had officially run out of tears and your throat was raw. Screaming wasn’t helping and now your voice was left to a broken sound. The funny thing was that you weren’t screaming for your sake, for them to let you out. You had been calling Peter’s name over and over. Even now as sound was barely escaping you, his name was the only thing leaving your lips. Your back was sore and you were sure that you had countless slivers in the palms of your hands. It had been only three days since you had been locked up and you hadn’t even seen Peter once. You were sure that guards were keeping him away, but you couldn’t help but ask why he didn’t take control over the guards. They were HIS soldiers after all, not MJ’s. You sighed before getting up from the hay on the ground upon seeing your breakfast tray lying at the foot of the barred cell door. You looked up to see a guard standing before your cell, staring straight ahead. Of course, she would set up a watch. She probably had guards on Peter’s door too, keeping you two away from one another. 

When they had brought you here, they had given you only a sheer dress, even worse than what you normally wore. There were already rips in the fabric from the rough ground and rock walls, holes in the most inconvenient of places. It was long, thank God, so it wouldn’t ride up. Peter was kept behind after they had brought you in, Lord Stark the one to take him home. He was escorted to his room immediately and probably hadn’t left it since. 

It had only been days, but it had felt like years. He had been sitting at his desk for the time being kept in his room. The ring that sat on his finger was being twisted between his fingers and your necklace that sat in his pocket felt heavy. All he could think about was you. You locked up in a cell.

All because of him.

He wouldn’t stop until he had looked at every last document, every last note until he found a loophole to get you both out of the situation you were in. He had yet to be visited by the princess and was quite dreading a visit from her. What had happened in the short afternoon and evening that he had disappeared for? It had been normal for him to disappear and abandon all responsibility in the past few months, but how far did MJ have her nails in the court? Lord Stark, whom he trusted, was even submitting to the foreign royal’s orders. In frustration, he plopped down in the chair that was sitting behind his desk. Peter couldn’t bare to think about what would happen to you if he couldn’t succeed. What would the princess do to you? Your relationship was one forbode and MJ was meant to take the place that you currently held. Would she go as far as killing you to be at Peter’s side? 

And what would be of him? If MJ intended to continue to control his guards and court, what place did Peter serve? What if she intended to kill the both of them and take the kingdom for herself? He couldn’t let that happen. To either of you. He would make sure of it. 

A knock was heard at his door and he scrambled to his feet and tried to scatter the documents and maps across his desk. Although they probably knew that Peter was doing whatever he could to get out of this mess, he didn’t want them to know if he had made any progress and stop him. If he was making progress at all. Unannounced, his doors opened, revealing the princess herself. 

“Peter.”

“MJ.” 

There was an awkwardness radiating off of the young prince, making MJ very aware of his vulnerability and it gave her all the more reason to keep pursuing confidence. 

“Your little love bird is sitting in a cell right now…but you want to know what the weird thing is?” Peter didn’t say anything. “She doesn’t seem to be concerned for herself…only for you.” He gulped. It sounded like something you would do. Even though you should be worrying about yourself, you concern yourself with others' well-being. “You must’ve fooled her well. That move you pulled in the woods, the defensive boyfriend bit,” she muttered, making her way closer to Peter and placing her hand on his chest. He recoiled slightly but didn’t move far. “I’ll admit, I was convinced. Really, I’m impressed. But does she really know the truth about the young Peter Parker?” Her hand dragged lower and lower until it was sitting near the waistband of his pants. Just before she reached his belt, he grasped her wrist in his hand and twisted slightly, if only to inflict a little pain. If it did, it didn’t show on her unmoving features. 

“Enough, MJ,”

“What?” she scoffed. “You upset your little play thing’s locked away?”

His scowl grew deep. The anger between the two didn’t dissipate and the princess was only making it worse. He threw her hand away and turned around. He was scared of what he would do to her if she kept on instigating him. 

“Come on, Peter. Just admit that you were playing her and this whole thing is over…”

“What’s over!?!” he yelled. “What is this?! What’s going on?!!” He paused, waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t give one, he decided it was enough self-control. “What, did daddy pull the plug on your money? He tells you that you couldn’t lead the kingdom because of that recklessness we both know you possess?”

“SHUT UP!!!” she screamed. 

Peter fell back. He wasn’t expecting such an outburst and definitely wasn’t expecting the red glow coming from her eyes. She was a sight. Her entire body glowed like it was aflame and her eyes…her eyes bore into him, leaving his head spinning. This was no princess, at least not the one he knew from years ago. 

“You have 24 hours, young prince, to relinquish your right to the throne…willingly or this kingdom will fall to the ground.” She flattened her gown, attempting to look clean before storming out of his room. 

Fear. That was the only thing ingrained into him at the moment. Who was the woman that had just been standing in front of him? He should have guessed that something was up the moment a cocky grin appeared on her face the very first evening. While the girl that he knew had attitude problems, she didn’t like confronting people, too worried that her mistakes would lead the kingdom into further ruin. That girl wouldn’t be as straightforward with him as she was nor would she order around guards as smoothly as she did. Whoever she was, she wasn’t MJ. But her warning let him know that he had 24 hours to figure out. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long you had been locked down there but everything was dark and you couldn’t make anything out besides the little cracks in the bricks that surrounded the torch posts on the wall. It was cold, a slight breeze traveling through the corridor, insinuating that it was most likely night now. You knew that there were guards down here. You could hear them talking at the end of the hall. The straw and the rock were beginning to make your feet raw so you opted for sitting on the makeshift wood plank they called a bed. When - if - you got out of this, you’d be talking to Peter about making the prison cells a little bit more comfortable. While being in jail wasn’t meant to be a leisure opportunity, last days or hours deserved to be spent in better conditions, especially in once-in-a-lifetime situations like yours. And maybe adding some windows or a source of natural light down here. What you would give to see the sun one last time, hear the birds chirp in the spring once more, feel the rain on your skin. But you had sealed your fate the moment you had stepped into Peter’s room that night to help him with his nightmare. You loved Peter, but that came at a cost. One you were scared to pay. Although it should have made you more worried about yourself, all you could think about was what would happen to Peter after you were gone. Did MJ have too much control of the kingdom already and it was slipping through Peter’s fingers? Would your death take a toll on the prince and would he be strong enough to lead after you were gone? Would he be vulnerable enough for MJ to take the kingdom or would he give up willingly?

Questions seemed to take more place in both of your minds rather than action. But then again, what could you do?

You had given up on trying to make a key out of straw after about ten minutes and the bars were too strong to be broken or even indented with your bare strength. So here you were, giving up and hopeless just as you promised Peter you wouldn’t be. You felt like you were letting him down. He was probably trying as many things as he could to try and get you out and yet you were sitting here, surrendering to your fate. 

A clang rang on the bars outside of your cell. You didn’t turn over, keeping your back to whomever stood outside your cell. You kept your eyes on the stones, tracing the cracks in the walls with your eyes. 

“I take it you're probably hungry?” Immediately upon hearing the voice, you turned to see Wanda standing there, holding a tray of food. 

“Wanda!” You stood up right away, but your legs gave out from underneath you. You were weak and hadn’t eaten much. What little strength you had left in you, you wanted to preserve. 

There was a single soldier standing with Wanda, who began unlocking the door while your friend waitied anxiously to attend to you. The key turned and you felt the only thing that kept you from escaping opening for the first time in what seemed like forever. 

Wanda rushed over to you, setting down the food and helping you sit up. “You’re weak. Come on, eat.” She handed you a piece of bread. “God, they couldn’t have opened that door any slower,” she said without even bothering to see if they had disappeared. Luckily, they had retreated to their position at the end of the hall. 

Your arms could barely support your weight, but you used your free hand to shove the piece of bread in your mouth. You weren’t sure if your stomach could hold it down, but you would take anything to soothe your hunger. Your friend stayed silent, only watching you scarf down what was in front of you. 

“So, you and Peter? In the woods? Naked?” She rose her eyebrows a few times, teasing.

“Shut up,” you giggled, unable to stop the blush creeping up on your cheeks. Taking a sip of water, you finally had the confidence to look up at her. 

“There’s a smile…”

“H-how’s the kingdom? Is MJ…is she-”

“Y/N, ask what you wanna ask…”

You gulped. “How’s Peter?” “He’s…struggling. Guards are posted outside of his room and limited staff are allowed in. He most likely hasn’t slept since you were locked up.” You looked down, breaking eye contact with Wanda. This was all your fault. If you hadn’t given in to Peter’s antics, neither of you would be in this spot. “And the princess, she made a deal with Peter. He has 24 hours to fulfill her request before…”

She didn’t even have to finish. You knew. You knew what would happen. Both of you sat in silence in the straw. You knew that Wanda would have to leave any moment. Although you wished she could stay longer, the red-head had already gotten up and picked up the tray. She left the bread on the ground. You grabbed what was left of the bun and raised it to her. 

“Keep it. Take a few more bites. Trust me.”

You looked at the bread in hand but didn’t understand. Before you could look at her again, she was walking out of your cell and was already halfway down the hall, the door locking again behind her. Subconsciously, you took a larger bite into the bun and something hard hit your teeth. It sent a jolt of pain through your mouth as you quickly pulled the food out of your mouth. Your hands were swift to pull the bread apart and a metallic clink landed on the stone floor. Attempting to follow the object in the minimal lighting, you let your hands roam around the floor, searching with your sense of touch. When you felt something cold on your fingers, you grasped it. The moment you felt what it was, recollection flooded you and you felt a warmth in your chest. Peter’s ring, the one you had given him. And it only meant one thing. Peter had found a way. There was hope.

He had found a way to smuggle Wanda into his room, someone he knew you trusted. It was all the more reason for him to trust her. Peter had given her very specific instructions on how to place the ring in the bread, then bring her food. Once you had gotten his gift, you would know that he was going to get you out and end this madness. While scanning documents for loopholes to this whole fiasco began to seem pointless after a few hours, the maps had given him some closure. The only way to escape the problem was to escape. He had a way to sneak out of his room to get to you. All he had to do was wait for the right opportunity. He hadn’t thought about how to deal with MJ yet. He didn’t even know if it was truly her or if he could even defeat her. Peter didn’t want to give up his kingdom or give up on his people, but he couldn’t leave you for death either. He knew he shouldn’t, but his heart desired your safety above anyone else's. It was wrong. Being the Heir Prince, he was supposed to put the kingdom above his own needs and be responsible in situations like this, but he just couldn’t let you go. 

Peter had changed into something more comfortable for being on the run and had a small bag packed with resources for a short while. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes. The guards would be changing and it gave him only a two minute window to slip out of his room and hide. But escaping his room would be the easy part. He still had to deal with everyone else in the palace, soldiers and apparently court members alike, get you out of your cell, and not to mention a head to head with the princess if he wanted to save his people. His foot continued to tap against the ground under the weight of his shaking legs. Nerves were nowhere near settling and they probably wouldn’t die down until he knew for sure that you were safe and free. 

The clock kept ticking and he was growing impatient for when the clock finally struck 2. He had spent the last few hours devising a plan after MJ had paid him a dear old visit, just trying to figure out how to get to you without her noticing either one of your disappearances. The guards normally weren’t inside the hall by the doors, only at the end of it. As the prince, he held a set of emergency keys in case something like this were to happen. Well, not something exactly like this, but being the sole leader of the kingdom, he had access to everywhere in the palace with these keys, including the prison. He was sure that MJ took them out of his desk before locking him in, but then again, she probably wasn’t expecting Peter to leave his room either. He slipped the jail cell key and the sewer tunnel key off of the link that they were on and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He decided on the coat that he had given to you the night you came in to comfort him. It made his heart slow its beating, having a piece of you around. While it looked a little cheesy on him, your necklace also took a place around his neck. It was tucked under his shirt so the chain wouldn’t fall off, worried that if it was in his pocket, it could possibly fall out. 

It felt like way too long since he had seen you, but he didn’t want to know what kind of state you were in. He couldn’t bare looking at you hurt, knowing that it was his actions that caused it. Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? Now here he was, hopelessly in love with you and risking his entire kingdom to save your life. He watched as the last seconds on the clock ticked down. The second the minute hand hit twelve, he flew to the door. He crouched down to peek through the small lock in the door. He prayed that the guards wouldn’t all of a sudden have a feeling that he was going to leave, I mean, he hadn’t tried in the days already spent locked in his room. Peter heard silent footsteps walking down the hall and he took a deep breath. This was it. This was his chance. Silently, he pushed open the doors to his room, leaving only enough space for him to sneak between them. He never left his back to the hall, making sure to keep an eye out for anyone coming up the corridor. 

His plan was simple. Sneak down to the servant chambers. Wanda would be waiting down there as long as she had successfully brought you your food. She had a set of clothes waiting for him to take along for you and some shoes. Then he would travel opposite the kitchen, hopefully unnoticed, to the prison which was conveniently located in the same hall. He still didn’t have a plan to lure the extra guards out, but he’d get to it when he got there. Then unlock your cell, get you out, and run to the sewers and exit where Wanda would be waiting with a horse. See, simple. 

His heart was beating out of his chest. There was no imagining what kind of consequences would befall his people if he failed. Would all of the people assisting him be condemned? The fate of the kingdom was resting on his shoulders and the worst part was that his people didn’t even know about the danger they were in. He guessed that was a good thing, but would his people rally behind him if they knew? Peter had been a pretty poor leader since his parents passed. His father was a god compared to his leadership skills. All he’d done was endanger the kingdom with his reckless love. The prince was always impressed with his father. The authoritative tone that echoed across the throne room, the way that he seemed calm no matter the circumstances that pressed down on the lives of his people. When Peter stepped up to the throne, fear was definitely expected, but the sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to let down everyone, wasn’t.

This was his chance to prove to not only to his people but himself that he could do this. 

His head turned to glance around the hall. Once he knew that it was clear, he ran down the corridor until he saw the small door tucked away into a divet in the hall. No light illuminated the doorway and, if Peter was honest, he almost missed it. Slipping through the door, he began walking down the steep staircase. He carried nothing with him besides what was on his person, so there was nothing to get caught and make him trip, although he still was cautious. The stairs were already risky as it was, only one foot sideways able to fit on the stairs at time. The trudge down seemed to take forever and it only made Peter more anxious. He should be more excited. He was getting closer to saving you, but the only thing that was running through his head was how scared he was. 

He had only explored these halls a few times when he was little, so the maps were a nice refresher. Whenever his parents were busy and needed to tend to royal business, he would come down here and explore, pretending he didn’t hold the life he held. Most kids in the villages surrounding would love to be where he is, but in all honesty, he envied the life that they held. The life that you held. You had freedoms that he didn’t. Peter had been basically betrothed since birth and was destined to lead the kingdom. He just wasn’t expecting it to happen all so soon. 

The servant chambers were nearly in sight. The light was on in the kitchen and the last thing he expected to see was Chef Rogers so late at night. As long as he wasn’t seen he would be fine, but he couldn’t be too loud either without waking up the entire servants quarters. Waiting until the chef had turned around, he ran quickly around the corner to the servant quarters, opening the door carefully so as not ot make a sound or let in too much light. When he stepped inside, he was expecting the room to be a lot more occupied. With the dozens of beds that were held in the room, only a few of them were currently being slept in. He had never thought about the fact that they worked while he slept, doing things for him to prepare for the next mornings that he never acknowledged. 

Wanda was sitting on her bed, holding a small journal in her hands, writing something down. She didn’t say anything, only motioning him over. No one else seemed to be awake. If they were, they were too caught up in their own world to know that the Crown Prince had just walked in. The closer he got, the more he recognized what had been put together. A small care basket, one holding a blanket, small hand held mirror, and a few apples. If anyone else were to see the haul that Wanda had been holding for you, she would be killed. 

“Just a few seconds more. I have something I really want her to have.” Wanda’s voice was unsteady. Everything that had happened lately had happened so fast. One morning she was covering for her best friend to spend the day in the woods and the next, she was helping that same friend escape the royal prison. Along with the Prince. 

Peter waited impatiently. He knew that whatever Wanda was writing was special and something that you would need to hear, but he was in a hurry to get you out before MJ noticed that anyone was out of place. He let out a sigh of relief when Wanda signed the bottom and began folding the delicate piece of paper. 

“That pile of clothes,” she gestured to, placing her note among the basket items, “put it on.”

“What?” Peter asked. “I already changed.”

She scoffed patting her hand on his chest. “Right. No one’s gonna recognize you with the royal emblem on your clothing.” He looked down and sure enough, what he thought was an inconspicuous disguise had royal prince sewn all over it. 

She chucked the clothes at his chest and turned around. Normally he would be embarrassed to change in front of a girl, but since everyone else was sleeping and that your life was on the line, it didn’t seem to bother him. He slipped the keys out the jacket and set them in the pouch in his belt. Changing quickly, he wondered what he would do with his clothes. After the whole jacket fiasco, he didn’t know what he’d do if your friend also was imprisoned because of him. 

“You have it very simple. All you have to do is go down the hall, the guards are usually asleep at the time. If they aren’t, this,” she took a small white pouch out of the basket, “if you set it on fire, will knock ‘em out in a few minutes. You just might have to be careful. You could take Y/N out in the process and, trust me, it’s gonna be easier to take her with you if she’s conscious.” He only nodded along with the instructions, mapping out the plan in his head. “I’ll be waiting by the sewer tunnel with your horse and your supplies. You think you can ride without a saddle?” He shook his head vertically. “Good.” She paused, looking him the eyes deeply. Wanda needed him to understand how important that this was, how important you were. You and Peter may have known each other since you were little, but he didn’t KNOW you. Not like she did. When he looked at her like a deer in headlights, it didn’t make her too confident that this was going to work. Inhaling deeply, she stared him down. “You realize her life is on the line?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Because you don’t look to enthusiastic.”

Something snapped in Peter. He had been up all night and day for who knows how long and no Wanda was questioning his reliance. “Listen, Y/N is in this mess because of me. And that means that I’m gonna get her out of it. You know her more than anything, and as much as it pains me, even more than me. But do you really think that I would be down here risking my future just to ensure that she gets hers?” He stopped and looked around the room, realizing the volume he was speaking at and making sure that there was no one woken up from his outburst. 

Wanda laid her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “If Y/N trusts you, that’s enough for me.” She gave him a small smile. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you too.”

“You’ll need it more than me,” Wanda admitted. 

The prince gave her back a small smile. He turned around once before pausing. “That jacket. Can you make sure that it gets back to me? I know it’s asking a lot, but it technically belongs to Y/N?”

“You’re asking me to endanger myself more than I already have?”

“Yes?” his voice scooping up at the end. 

She smiled slightly. “I’m kidding. Now go, we won’t have much time.”

You had been wide awake since you received the ring from Peter. You continued to twirl it around your finger, feeling the engraving that you had gotten special for him. Your butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the hard bed. But you weren’t ready to move or fall asleep, afraid that you would miss Peter coming in the second you closed your eyes. The prison was silent, only the sound of the torches crackling at the end of the hall, and the faint sound of guards giggling at the end. Every moment that ticked by was a nightmare, scared that Peter had gotten caught or something worse happened to him and that all hope was lost. But a faint smoke appearing from where the guards were, made you step back from the bars, scared of the unknown gas. You stayed a fair distance away and slipped your dress over you mouth so as not to inhale the smoke. There was a clang, like the drop of a sword, heard from the end of the corridor and someone emerging from the smoke. Your heart began to race. What if it was MJ or Lord Stark? What if it was a guard coming to take you away so that Peter couldn’t find you? Relief flooded your features when the face molded into one you knew. Before thinking, you raced over to him, forgetting about concealing your features to protect yourself from the smoke. 

“Y/N!” he whisper shouted as he messed with the lock on your cell, waiting for the click.

You quickly lifted the thin clothes on your body over your face, but it was too late, you could feel the effects of the smoke hitting, not strongly, but enough to make you feel dizzy. 

It was nice to feel you in his arms again. After days apart, you both felt deprived from one another. He began to scan your skin for marks and bruises. You could feel his fingertips grazing your skin, not failing to miss a single blemish. You were drowsy, but you managed to pull his gaze to your face and look him in the eyes. Planting a weak kiss on his lips, you managed to get him to focus on you. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. All of this had been his fault. If he had just stayed away from you like he knew that he should have, he wouldn’t be holding your shaking hand, looking into your empty eyes, hearing the shallow breaths. You would have been safer without him. Now, he was risking both of your lives on top of countless others to unsure that the two of you were together. It wasn’t hard for him to decide to come save you, but it was difficult for him to convince himself to come along for the ride. 

“Y/N, love, we need to go. Now.”

You shook your head in agreement, but your feet wouldn’t move on their own accord. Peter felt your grasp tighten on his arm and saw how your eyes seemed to droop. 

“No, no, no…” he mumbled. “Y/N, please, we have to get moving.”

“I-I can’t, Peter. My l-legs.” 

No matter how hard you tried, whatever smoke you seemed to be inhaling was making you feel limp. You knew that this was going to slow the both of you down, but the material against your face just wasn’t thick enough for you to avoid inhaling the fumes. 

In a swift movement, you were suddenly in Peter’s arms, his cloth no longer around his nose. He was inhaling it just as much as you now, but he made a quick effort to get out of the prison. Everything was a blur. You could hear Peter breathing heavily, only praying that whatever the smoke did to you wouldn’t befall Peter too. This was likely your only chance to get out. Another chance wouldn’t arise when MJ realized what the two of you had done. 

It didn’t seem like the two of you had gotten far, but when you heard the sounds of water splashing beneath Peter’s footsteps, you knew you were further than you thought. You had been slipping in and out of consciousness. You were shocked that it didn’t seem to be affecting Peter more than it did. He must not have had enough time to inhale it properly because he wasn’t stumbling or coughing anymore. Peter began to fumble with something on his person, letting his hadn fall from under your legs momentarily. More metal could be heard before a click sounded through the dark tunnel. The small gate opened and you were busy trying to keep yourself awake in case you needed to be aware of your surroundings. Your eyes were closed, but you could tell that you were outside the palace now, the light from the moon illuminating through your eyelids. Crickets were chirping around you and Peter, but whatever noises you were making were louder. Evidently, you had been whimpering because he turned to you, shushing you softly and kissing your forehead that was leaned against his shoulder. The more that you tried to keep your eyes open, the more the exhaustion crept over you. You didn’t want to become a burden in your own liberation, but whatever concoction that Peter whipped up to knock the guards out certainly had done a number on you. 

“Is she okay? You didn’t let her inhale it, did you?” you heard a familiar voice ask. 

“I tried to stop her but she got too close too fast. I didn’t have enough time to warn her.” He paused. “I got some of it too, but I don’t think I had enough to knock me out like her.” 

You loosened your arms from around Peter’s neck enough to get your head out of Peter’s chest. One look at the red hair was enough to know that you should have figured she’d still have a hand in assisting your escape. 

“W-wanda?” you managed to slip out.

She must have heard your small voice, coming over and immediately combing her hand over your hair, pushing whatever was in the way out of your face. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she calmed you. 

“Where are we going?” you managed to ask softly. 

“Peter’s gonna take you somewhere. Even I don’t know. But it’s for your safety.”

You nodded along, feeling as if you were understanding everything the moment the words left her lips, but the more you let the words soak in, you realized what she truly meant. Blinking a few times, you could see the tears falling from her eyes. 

“N-no, no, no, no, no…” you began to cry, sounding more like a child as you hurried out your oppositions. 

“I know, I know. But it’s for your safety. For all of our safety.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” you whined. 

“I-” Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her, threatening to show you just how upset that she was. But she couldn’t let you see that. Turning around, she moved to the horse, making sure all of the straps were secure. 

Peter let her have a moment, responding to you himself. “Love, it’s okay. You’ll see her again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” His hand slipped under your chin, wiping the tears off with his thumb. He followed your best friend towards the horse, calming you down in the process. 

“I’ve got everything set. You know where to go?”

“Once she’s safe, I’ll let you know. I just… can’t risk it right now.” 

She shook her head in response. “Make sure she gets my letter when she feels better.”

“I will.” 

Wanda stepped away from the horse, ready to take you while Peter mounted. He handed you off gently, making sure that your feet were steady on the ground and Wanda was supporting you enough before letting go. Getting on the horse, made him anxious to be separated from you. While he knew that he could trust Wanda, he felt that you weren’t safe unless you were with him. At the same time, though, you were probably in the most danger with him. The red head supported you when Peter reached out for you. With every bit of your strength, you pulled yourself up and into Peter’s lap and fell back into his arms, just as you were moments ago, curled up into his chest. Once he felt comfortable that you were settled, he bid a short farewell to Wanda, riding off into the forest. 

“Pete,” you muttered. He looked down at you, keeping one hand on the reigns and the other around your back. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry about that, just sleep.”

And you did. 

“I want to know where they are! How could he slip right under your noses?”

“Your Majesty, if I could-”

“Shut up! You have been no help to me, Stark,” MJ’s voice thundered through the room. “Maybe your soft spot for the boy is more prominent than I thought.”

“Princess,  I can assure you-”

“Assure me what? Assure me that my only collateral has run away? Assure me that you’ll never see the light of day again? Cause you’ve done a fine job of that so far.”

Lord Stark stayed silent this time, cowering at the creature that was seated on Peter’s father’s throne. The throne room had been transformed into a room of chaos. Whatever magic that had a hold on the princess seemed to radiate through her anger. The curtains that shaded the windows were in tatters, the pillars holding up the ceiling now littered with cracks that only seemed to be growing.The doors burst open, making the princess stand. 

“Your Majesty, we have someone who assisted the prisoner and prince.”

Followed shortly after the messenger, to soldiers began dragging a girl into the room, one that bore an all too common head of red hair. 

“Get off of me! I haven’t done anything!” she screamed. 

The guards grip on her arms didn’t loosen until she was right in front of MJ’s feet, dropping her like a dead weight. 

“And who might you be?” she asked coyly. 

“Someone who serves the prince, not whoever you are.”

A flame of red rushed around Wanda’s neck, making her grasp at her neck and search for air. She could see the red in the princess’s eyes, brighter than the ripped curtains. 

“I won’t ask again. Who. Are. You?”

Just as it appeared the red wisps were gone, allowing the serving girl to breathe again. 

“Wanda. I’m a servant.”

“Well, Wanda, someone tells me you had a hand in the prince’s escape from the palace. Might you have any idea where they went?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” the princess asked, stepping down the stairs, closer to Wanda. 

“Are deaf or stupid? I said I don’t know.”

“Ooh. Someone’s got a little fire in her,” MJ laughed, sending shivers done your best friend’s spine. Her conniving laugh didn’t stop until she reached the bottom of the stairs and grasped Wanda’s chin, pulling her up to meet in the middle. “Too bad it’s gonna cost you your life,” she spit. 

Realization flooded through Wanda as she felt the guards pull her back, she didn’t try to scream or resist this time, feeling numb to the fate she was befalling. She would never see you again, only hoping that you found comfort in her last letter. They had about dragged her out the door completely when she spoke again. 

“You’re not going to win.”

MJ’s feet stopped from ascending the stairs and turned around to face the girl once more. “I think you overestimate how much you puny prince can do.” 

Without another word, Wanda was escorted out of sight and MJ kept walking. 

“Stark, we only have a few hours left. Ensure that Peter doesn’t get in the way. But if he doesn’t give me what I want,” she paused, taking a seat once again, “people are going to start. Getting. Hurt.”

The sun was blinding and nothing you were used to. You hadn’t seen the sun in days and waking up to the bright light was in some ways comforting. Your fingers reached beneath you to feel cloth and a mattress, making you shoot straight up. The room was small, but it was the perfect cottage bedroom, only a small curtain separating you and whatever was making a crackling noise on the other side. You threw the sheets off of you and stepped onto the wood floor. Taking a look around the room, you were sure to be quiet, unsure if anyone else was in here. 

But Peter… Where was he?

Stopping your tour of the room, you made your way to the curtain, bunching it up to see the other side. It was a small kitchen, a wooden table in the middle and cupboards that held food and dishes. There was a small oven with something cooking inside. Peter stood near the window, looking outside. He had yet to notice you, so you decided to let him know that you were awake. You had so many questions. 

“Pete?”

He turned, startled by your voice. “Y/N, you’re awake.” Hurrying toward you, he engulfed you in his arms, picking you up and twirling you around. “You’re okay. How do you feel? Are you hungry? I'm assuming they didn't feed you much. Is your head okay? I know you inhaled a lot of smoke when I got you out.”

Peter continued to rant and ask you questions and all the while, you couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. He got you out. He saved you. He stupidly put his life and his whole kingdom at risk for you. There was nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes and you didn’t want to look away. You still didn’t understand how the two of you had gotten here. It seemed like only hours ago, he was kicking you out of his room in the palace, too caught up in grieving to care about anyone else but himself. Now, here you both were, in the middle of who knows where, holding one another. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the boy in front of you and now you were sure that he would do the same. Not that you doubted him before, but because you didn’t want him to. You were - are - nothing compared to him. You didn’t want him to risk a future for you, but you knew that if you told him, he would just tell you that he didn’t want a future without you in it. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel a comfort that you hadn’t in a long time. You hadn’t realized that Peter had stopped talking, now silent as he stared back at you. 

“Y/N?”

Crashing his lips onto yours, you savored the moment that you two were finally, both consciously in one another’s arms once again. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, one that felt familiar, that felt like home. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you into his body. You broke the kiss with a smile, encircling your arms around his neck. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi.”

“I don’t mean to sour the mood, but…what happened?”

He chuckled at your first statement. “You, uh, fell asleep. Whatever Wanda used in the knock out stuff got you too. The moment you were on the horse, you were out. And I didn’t want to wake you.” He reached up to grab a stray piece of hair falling in front of your face. “I got all of the stuff off the horse. And let you sleep.”

“Have you slept?” 

“I don’t think I could’ve anyways,” he admitted. He was going to continue, but didn’t know if he could put the extra strain on you after the past week. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s the princess. She gave me an ultimatum.”

“I know. Twenty-four hours. Wanda told me.”

“Ho-”

“Peter, look. If you wanna do this thing alone, be my guest. I won’t interfere if that’s what you want. But know that you don’t have to. Who do you think the people would rather have lead them? Some princess they hardly know or the prince that has been looking after them since he was a little boy?”

He wanted to disagree with you, but he knew there was no point. You were right. He knew that it was safer to do this alone, but the thought of anyone else getting hurt on his behalf felt like too much of a burden. 

“Y/N, I don’t have a lot of time. MJ…she isn’t who she says she is, at least I don’t think so. There’s this…aura to her. It’s not normal, almost as if something is controlling her. She’s dangerous.”

“If you don’t want me to deal with her, Peter, then I won’t. But please…let me help.” You paused. “What can I do?”

Giving in was going to be easier than withholding things from you. Trust had become a fragile thing in Peter’s life, but he knew that if there was anyone in the world that he would never doubt, it would be you. 

“I don’t have an exact idea, but I’ve got some clue on where to start.”

When you and Peter got into the armory, you both assumed that there would be someone in there, but apparently, MJ had the soldiers occupied elsewhere. You had completely expected the need for weapons, nevertheless, you were shocked when Peter handed you a sword.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Use it."

"You know what I meant."

Peter placed his sword in its place on his side. "To protect yourself. Look, this is a dangerous situation and I might not always be able to help. If I'm to go head-to-head with the princess, you can't be anywhere near me. She'll use you as leverage, I just know it. I'm not - I WILL not - lose you again."

You nodded, pushing down the argument that you wanted to help. It was a given that you were going to be an inconvenience, but you couldn't just let him waltz into the castle alone. While you hadn't seen what MJ was capable of, you still feared for his safety. Any protection you could provide for him was better than nothing. 

"Peter, I'm not going anywhere."

You stood on your tippy-toes to plan a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to calm him down for the time being while you finished preparing your weapons. You had yet to run into anyone in the castle, but the sooner you got out of the armory, the more you had to worry about running into people.

"When we make it up to the main hall, I want you to go to my room," Peter began. "I want you to stay hidden until I come back to find you."

"But-"

"No, no 'buts.' Stay hidden until I come back, understand?"

You shook your head, following Peter as he ascended the stairs in the corner of the armory. They led through the kitchen towards the main hall. When you reached the top, you were to go right while he traveled in the opposite direction. He wanted to say goodbye, but wasn't sure if he should. He didn't want this to be the last one, but he also didn't want to leave you with nothing. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the little necklace that he'd given you only days ago. He had his ring on the chain as well, taking its place next to his mother’s pendant. You shared a look, yourself not knowing what was happening. Before you knew it, Peter was reaching behind your neck to clasp the necklace. When it was connected, his fingers retraced the chain to the simple pendant hanging on the front.

“Keep it safe for me?”

You had vowed that there would be now tears, but looking at Peter for what could be the last time made your heart want to break. You had considered the possibility of one, if not both, of you not making it out of here alive. But your heart yearned for that not to be true. Peter had always told himself that he could never go on if something were to happen to you. At first you had dismissed it, but the more that you had fallen for the boy, the more that you realized you felt the same way. A life without Peter seemed pointless now. You probably sounded ridiculous, some servant girl in love with the prince, her life doomed without him by her side, but it was anything but. It was your reality. 

You placed your hand on top of his resting on his chest. “You’ll have to kiss me to get it back,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully, he smiled, keeping his hand under yours for a moment. When he began to pull away, your fingers subconsciously tightened around his, but they weren’t strong enough to keep him from backing away. The throne room was yet another corridor away, where Peter would wait to encounter the princess. He began to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on you. When he turned around to begin running, it felt like your heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. Trying to be strong, you turned too, making your own trek towards the all too familiar bedroom. Your fingers had yet to leave the ring sitting on the chain of your necklace. You twirled it around like you had done less than twenty four hours ago, sitting in a jail cell. Only prayers would allow you to return the ring to him. 

When you rounded the corner, your hand fell from the piece of jewelry to the sword on your side. There was no one in sight but you wanted to be prepared in case there was anyone uninvited in Peter’s room. The door wasn’t ajar and you didn’t want to make much sound so as to alert anyone of your presence, so you only opened the door enough for you to fit through. Your mistake was not taking a loot inside first. One step into the room and there was a figure standing behind Peter’s desk, staring out through the windows into the courtyard. 

“Ah, yes. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for your arrival.”

You cleared your throat, so as not to let the fear show. “Lord Stark.”

When Peter entered the throne room, he was expecting anything but the chaos he encountered. The room that his parents had kept pristine, in perfect condition was in ruin. Curtains torn, metal posts knocked over, cracks in the foundations and pillars. But the thing that made him want to throw up the most was the sight of his fathers’s throne aflame. But it wasn’t just any fire. It was a fire that had a red tint to it, almost unnatural. He quickly had his way up to try and extinguish it, but the flames weren’t burning the throne like they seemed to be. In curiosity, he moved his hand threw it and was surprised when he felt no burning pain on his skin. 

“I was wondering how long you’d wait.” 

At the sound of her voice, Peter drew his sword. Turning around, he as quick to place her walking through the doors, wearing a simple gown his mother had worn often. 

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“You were always one to make an entrance, though,” she voiced, completely ignoring his comment. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show. But then, again I knew you’d come back to protect your people. Or should I say my people? Are you ready to give up?”

“Not quite.” Lunging forward quickly, he swung his blade, preparing to strike her when the red wisps began to encircle them both. After a few seconds, they evaporated, allowing the prince to see that the princess was no longer in front of him, nor was he standing in the same spot. 

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to draw blood, Pete.”

He ran towards her again, swinging the sword towards her head, but the same thing happened again and suddenly he was in a different corner of the room. Aimlessly, he continued, hoping that a strike would finally hit. But once he took too many steps forward, he sent himself flying into the stairs, his sword flying out of his hand. He would have moved but he could only feel something circling his wrists and pulling him back towards the ground. MJ was standing over him, his sword in hand. 

“How fitting for you to die for your people? They really don’t deserve you.” She laughed as Peter began to pull against the red restraints keeping him held down. Placing the sword on his forehead, she began to trail it down his face, his abdomen. “Any last words?”

The doors to the throne room suddenly flew themselves open, with you and Lord Stark walking through. “Let him go or the necklace goes!”

The princess looked up at you, the necklace in your hand, with a look of panic. “NO!” She launched herself at you, but before she could, a sword was pointed towards her, Stark defending you. “Ah, ah, ah. You heard her. Let the boy go…”

“Y/N, what’s going on? The necklace?” Peter asked. 

“Is a little bit more than one of your mother’s trinkets?” you started. “Did you ever wonder why MJ conveniently showed up after your parents deaths? Your mother knew what this could do.”

“Enough. I’ll let him go!” The restraints holding Peter down were suddenly gone. He scrambled to his feet quickly, making his way around MJ and towards you. 

“The necklace that Peter gave me was more than just a piece of jewelry to hang around my neck. It was a symbol of love and protection as it was for his mother. In the hands of the wrong person, it could become a beacon of destruction.”

“But in the hands of the right people,” Tony continued, “it could protect those around them from the dangers that magic possessed.”

Without another word, you dropped the necklace, stepping on it with your heel before the princess could stop you. Both Peter and MJ yelled out opposition, but there was nothing to stop the now rising gold dust. Stark held Peter back when you blew the dust in MJ’s direction. The gold dust seemed to form a similar pattern to the red wisps of MJ’s magic, encircling her. There was bits of red getting caught in the gold when a loud scream broke across the room, deafening all of you. Peter grabbed hold of you, pulling you into him and keeping your head against his chest. Both of you kept your eyes closed, waiting for the madness to be over. 

When the room was silent, you turned your head to where the princess was moments ago. In her place was a girl. She was crouched on the floor, cuddled into herself, and rocking back and forth. You moved out of Peter’s grasp and towards the girl. The closer you got the more clear it was that she was whispering to herself. You kneeled down next to her and placed a hand on her back. She flinched at your touch, getting out of her previous position and backing away. It was still the princess, only looking broken and dull. Her eyes were dark with circles underneath and her skin was pale. Was this really the same girl in front of you only moments ago? 

“MJ?” you asked. 

She took a moment before speaking up. “W-what have I-I done?” she whimpered. 

You didn't respond, only held your arms out for her and waited. She looked at you with a questionable look. Why would you want to help her after she had caused so much pain? When you didn't seem to shy away, she crawled back towards you and fell into your arms. You could feel her tears falling onto your skin as you looked up at Peter. He didn't say anything either, just watching the scene unfold before him. The throne room was silent besides the cries of the broken princess.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be out in the gardens. Working and living at the palace for years, you had come to find peace within sitting in the flowers. There was something about the scents that relaxed you, allowing you to daydream about a life beyond the castle walls. Wanda would join you whenever you both had a chance, reading stories to one another, playing games at a younger age, and gossiping about the court. Her favorites were wishbone flowers. They symbolized happiness, reminding her that even though she may not have the life that she wanted, she was truly happy. Friends, you, people around her were what gave her a life of joy. You had plucked a full bouquet of wishbones which now took their place in front of her gravestone. 

“I miss you, Wanda. So much.” Tears were falling from your eyes, leaving warm wet trails down your cheeks. “I got your letter. Peter gave it to me when…when I found out. There’s no way to tell you how much I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you and it’s going to be so hard now that you’re gone. I promise I’ll keep visiting whenever Peter actually lets me out of his sight.” You chuckled to yourself, knowing that she would’ve laughed too. You turned around to look at Peter, who was waiting by the horses. He gave you a look of concern, but you returned it with a smile, letting him know that you were okay. “You don’t have to worry about me, though. He’s got me. He loves me. And I love him.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #prince peter parker #royal peter parker #peter parker series