#also i'm never going to stop drawing eyebrows over the mask

[telffiin]

2 lazy 2 finish. blergh

[mayfieldss]

A night out - Jason Todd

Warnings: protective Jason, mentions of underage drinking/alcohol consumption, language, unwanted attention (some guys can't take a hint), lowkey make-out sesh.

Summary: You and Jason had kept your relationship private for some time, but when a strangers flirting goes a little too far, Jason sets the record straight.

You and Jason weren't exactly hiding your relationship. You didn't care if anyone found out, but you kept to yourselves for the thrill of it, rather than out of necessity. Certain people knew, like Kory, who seemed to see through the two of you like glass, and Dick who had figured it out after Jason spent a little too much time staring at you in awe. But the others were kept in the dark, partly because there was fun in sneaking around, as well as the fact Jason claimed he loved having you all to himself.

It was enjoyable to catch Jason's gaze across a room and wonder what he was thinking about. And Jason derived his joy from things like texting you whilst around the others, little messages of "You look so hot right now." and your personal favourite "Your lips on mine in ten minutes, yes, or no?" He also loved little things, like his hand on your thigh under the table whilst Rachel and Gar were deep in conversation, or the way you would hold his hand in yours whenever you wanted.

Right now, you were standing in Jason's room, staring at yourself in the mirror, as you pulled at the edges of your clothes. It had been Jason's idea for you, him, Rachel, and Gar to crash a party that was happening a couple of blocks away. He claimed that the lot of you never got to do anything normal and that this was a great opportunity to do so. He was right of course. It was almost impossible to act like a regular human being when living in a place like Titans tower, but the concept of trying to be normal was so much more stressful than you ever thought it would be.

"You look fucking amazing, babe. Stop stressing." You feel Jason's arms snake around your body as he comes to stand behind you, the reflection of both of you together in the mirror relieving some of your stress.

"Are you sure it's not too much? I mean, I've never really been to a party before. I don't know what I'm doing." Your frown returns and you watch Jason lower his head to kiss the top of your shoulder.

"You. look. great." He presses a kiss to your skin between each word before pulling you away from the mirror. "Now, come on. We're gonna be late."

He's walking you toward the door when you stop him, tugging on his arm "You look great too you know."

He smiles, a wide and mischievous grin as he pulls you in for one last kiss, "Thank you, I already knew that, but thank you." His words make you laugh before you're shoving him away with a playful hand. You open the door to his room and step out into the hall, just in time to avoid an awkward encounter with Rachel and Gar as they come to find you both.

"You guys ready to go?" the green-haired boy speaks, a smile on his lips. He's excited, but you can't say the same, stomach bubbling with nerves. Jason can tell. You know he can, by the way he places a hand on your shoulder as he replies. "We gotta get a move on, at this rate, we'll get there when the parties fucking over."

You watch as Rachel sends a raised eyebrow your way, most likely due to the placement of Jason's hand, and the gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder every few seconds. You ignore it, trying to mask the smile that threatens to spill at the thrill of Jason's movements. They're always casual enough that they won't draw too much attention, but filled with a certain affection that creates something of mild speculation with the others.

You move down the hall soon after, quietly making your way past the rooms of the others in the tower before you're in the elevator and outside in minutes. The party is in an apartment two blocks away, and with every step taken in its direction, anxiety rips at your insides like a fed-up circus lion. In that moment, you forget the thrill of hiding your relationship with Jason and fall back by his side, whilst Rachel and Gar are arguing playfully, to take his hand.

"You good?" Jason leans over to whisper the question in your ear, squeezing your hand in the process.

You shake your head, staring straight ahead, as you mutter a response. "I want to throw up."

Jason removes his hand from yours, opting to place it on the small of your back as he leans down to whisper once more. "If this is about your outfit, I'm telling you, babe, the color scheme isn't too much, you look amazing."

"It's not that," you spare a glance at him, catching a hint of concern in his eyes. "This whole thing is just stressful, you know?"

As soon as you say it Jason feels guilty because in truth, he's not nervous at all. But clearly, you're carrying enough fear for both of you.

"Don't think about it too much. It's just you and me in a room full of people who aren't nearly as cool as we are."

That makes you smile, and Jason is glad for the change in your expression before you make your way back to Rachel. Jason's hand leaves you as you do so and he watches as you talk with her. He does so for a while and then, so he doesn't seem as smitten as he is, Jason steps up beside Gar, striking up a conversation with the boy until you make it to the door of your destination.

You climbed many a flight of stairs to get here, the apartment on an irregularly high level, in a complex with a broken elevator. Music pumps from behind the door, and with one last look at you, Jason turns the doorknob and steps inside. He's swallowed by the crowd and you almost lose him once you find yourself amongst all the people, but soon a hand grabs yours and you don't have to see who it is know that it's Jason.

"This is great, isn't it?" He's taken it upon himself to put an arm around you, so as to not lose you among the party-goers.

"It's loud." You shout back, his laugh vibrating through you as a response.

-

You lost Gar and Rachel within the first twenty minutes. They vanished into the sea of people, and even with their unnaturally coloured hair, they were still so hard to see.

"How can we lose a guy like Gar? His hair is bright green for fucks sake." You stand on the tips of your toes as you say it, looking around as best you can. Jason doesn't seem to care, grabbing you by the waist now that you're alone. He spins you around to face him, and the smile he wears looks good on him, though everything looks good on him.

"Like I said, it's you and me in a room full of people that can never be as cool as we are. Not that bad right?" He's so close to you, so you can hear him over the music and chatter, and also just because he wants to be. He loves the smile on your lips as you look up at him, your arms around his neck, and the hidden confidence behind your eyes that he's dying to dig out.

"It's still a little intimidating, but I trust you." The way you say it makes sparks burst through Jason's chest. You trust him. You might be the only person that does. His thumb brushes over your cheek and only then do you realize one of his hands has moved up to cup your face.

"D'you want a drink?" He shifts his gaze to look for the kitchen, but when he turns back to you, you're shaking your head. "No, I'm good."

"Okay, cool." On the way here, Jason thought he would be drinking tonight, but now he doesn't think he wants that anymore. He'd rather be with you in the moment, soaking this all in, and getting drunk on the feeling of being with you in a public setting rather than on an unknown beverage.

"You can have one if you want, I don't mind." Your voice is so gentle and sincere, and Jason loves how nice it sounds against his ears.

"If you're sober, I'm sober, babe." He smiles once more, but something seems off, and you shake your head. "You don't have to be sober just because I am, you know. If you want to drink, go for it."

Jason just shakes his head, brushing his forehead against yours. "I don't want a drink, I just want you." It's a sweet sentence, and you're surprised by it, especially in the way it makes you blush.

"How long have you been waiting to use that line?" you ask, but Jason shuts you up with a kiss, short and sweet.

"I came up with it on the spot, I swear."

To that, you laugh, "It was a good line."

You watch as Jason raises an eyebrow, smirking wide as his hands come down to squeeze your hips. "You really think it was good?" He asks, and the question is so genuine that your heart melts a little at hearing it.

"Yes, Jason, it was good."

"How good?" He's back to his flirty self in seconds, the speed of the change giving you whiplash. You're smiling so wide now that your cheeks hurt, and you rest your forehead against Jason's collarbone to hide the strong blush you know is forming on your cheeks. Jason hugs you close, shifting from foot to foot as he sways offbeat to the music. "D'you wanna dance?"

"I don't think this is the kind of music you're supposed to dance to."

Your forehead, still pressed to Jason's chest, shifts up and down as he shrugs. "We could try."

It's not something you expect considering Jason isn't much of a dancer. When you ask him to dance with you, most of the time he only does so to make you happy, and he doesn't really dance. He just twirls you around once or twice, standing in the middle of the room as you move around him.

"You really want to dance, don't you?" You look up at him as you say it, trying to conceal a smile.

"Fuck, please don't make me regret asking." He's stopped swaying now, pulling back just enough that he can admire you. He's nervous now.

"We'll dance when the next song comes on."

Jason shakes his head, "By then I won't want to do it anymore, we gotta dance now before I change my mind." He's dead serious, shocking himself with the words. Jason hasn't felt this good in a while, and he wants to savor the moment while it lasts because he's not sure how long he'll have it.

"Jason, this song has no beat at all."

He swings your arms back over his shoulders as you speak, cocking his head to the side in a devilish manner. "Don't tell me you're turning down a challenge." He's pushing through his nerves as he begins swaying again, moving you with him. You're right, the music has no specific pattern, and it is more a mix of strange noises than an actual song, but he tries anyway. Jason focuses on your smile, and then the way that you laugh as he makes an attempt at twirling you around. And he feels so happy.

When the song changes, he stops moving. "Right, dancing privileges have been revoked, you never saw a thing." You laugh at that too, and Jason soaks up the sound like a sponge, wanting to keep it all for himself.

"Your secret's safe with me," the words are gentle and sweet, and if you weren't so close to him, he doubts he would have heard. But he does, he hears you just fine. "though I can't promise I won't write about it in my diary."

Jason raises an eyebrow, "You have a diary? Can I read it?"

"If I did have a diary there is no way you would be allowed to read it."

"Why?" Jason brings a hand up to your face again, tucking your hair back behind your ear as he does. "You've written about me in your hypothetical diary, haven't you?"

You screw up your nose at him and he continues, finding it impossible not to tease you. "Dear diary, Jason looked so good today. He smiled at me, I think I'm in love with him." As he says it, he sees that same fleck of confidence flickering behind your eyes. When you open your mouth to speak, excitement courses through him like he's just been plugged into some intense power source with no limits.

"There may or may not be a few pages like that in the hypothetical diary." And just like that, in one sentence you've spoken, Jason is falling so heavily that he leaves his stomach, and heart behind in your hands.

"You told your diary you love me, huh?" he tries to hide his need for the answer through flirtation, pulling you just that little bit closer. You're focusing more on his nose than his eyes now as if you're not yet ready to battle his gaze.

"Will you promise to love me back if I say that I did?" it's a genuine question and Jason is trying his best to hold back a grin.

"Definitely."

So far, he's kept himself composed (on the outside at least), but internally, Jason wants to implode. The thought of you holding so much affection for him that you could actually love him is beyond Jason's comprehension. He wants to hold on to the feeling he has now, all the feelings you're giving him, and never let them go. He never wants to let you go either. So, he drops his cool guy persona. Jason lets himself look at you with utter adoration that is impossible to mask, and he knows you can see it written all over his face, but he doesn't care. He's so used to hiding his feelings but doesn't want to hide this.

"You're being serious? You think you love me?"

There's a silence between you, and it seems to stretch on forever, a heavy contrast to the pounding in his ears, his heartbeat crying out for an answer so loud that he thinks that the whole room can hear it.

"I don't think I love you, Jason Todd, I know I do, but don't make me regret it."

A wave of reassurance washes over him at the response, and he knows it's the truth in the way you act. It's as if you're afraid he won't feel the same and Jason curses himself for never being good with honest words. But he's happy and he's relieved, and this is the best day of his life, he thinks.

"I fucking love you." the words are quiet because Jason finds them hard to say. Not because they aren't true, but because he doesn't think he's ever said those words to someone before and meant it. But he's at ease when he watches your lips upturn, the softest smile gracing your features. Jason presses a kiss to your forehead, before moving to twirl you around once more. Somehow in the process, your eye catches a clock across the room. "Shit, Jason we need to get back." You scramble around to face him, looking over his shoulder for something, though Jason doesn't know what it is.

"Hey, calm down, it's not that late."

You turn back to him, panic in your eyes, "Jason, look." You point toward the clock and Jason lets out a breath. "It could be wrong, clocks are set wrong all the time."

He feels you shift, watching as you pull your phone from your pocket and stare at the screen for a solid few seconds. Jason moves by your side so he can see the time, and exhales harshly. "Well, shit."

"We have a training session with Dick in like, four hours." You sound panicked and Jason winces at the thought of fighting the man on little sleep. "By the time we find Gar and Rachel and get back—"

"Stop," Jason cuts you off. He's not too bothered about a lack of rest. He hardly gets any anyway. He'll just take a nap later in the day if he needs it. He's done it before, and so have you, so Jason can't quite understand why you're so freaked out. "It's not that bad, if we go now, we can find them." There's a pause, and when you say nothing, Jason frowns.

"Hey, breathe." He grasps your shoulders gently, trying to snap you out of whatever the hell is happening. "We're not kids, we won't be grounded. We're fine." Jason's not so sure about the grounding part, even though you aren't children, he wouldn't put it past Dick not to try and keep the lot of you inside. He pulls you against his chest, squeezing you in a tight hug. "How ‘bout you go get some water or something? I'll find them and meet you in the kitchen."

It's sweet of him to say, Jason Todd, a boy with such a rough exterior being so gentle with you, and you nod. he does the same and you split up, you on the move for something to stop the tightness in your throat, and Jason off to find Rachel and Gar.

When you make it to the kitchen you grab the first thing you can find, which is an empty red solo cup sitting on the counter. It took you a little longer than you would have liked to find the kitchen, and when you get there your panic has only escalated. You fill the cup with water from the tap and gulp it down like it's the last thing that will ever pass through your lips. In an instant you feel somewhat better, filling the cup up again as you wait for Jason and the rest of your companions.

It doesn't take long for someone to approach you, though it's not the boy you want it to be. He's followed by a friend, and you back yourself up into the kitchen counter, hoping they'll pass by you if given the space to do so. They don't.

"I haven't seen you around before." The line is cheesy, and it's even worse that this guy thinks it could ever work on you.

"I have a boyfriend." You say quickly, hoping that might deter their interest. The two men look between themselves, a laugh escaping the first guy.

"So?"

"So," You drag out the word, "I'm not interested in whatever it is you're implying." You stare into your cup, watching the clear liquid swirl around. You're not worried, Jason, Rachel, and Gar should be with you soon.

One of them steps forward, the guy with the cheesy pickup lines extending a hand. "I'm Danny, what's your name?" Okay, maybe you are a little worried.

"Not interested." You make a move to leave, even though you're supposed to wait for Jason to find you. It will take longer to get back to the tower if you lose each other, but you're willing to take that risk if you can escape this situation. The problem now lies in how you'll escape the kitchen. The two men have shifted now, to block the exit like jocks in some cliché teen movie.

"Move." You're surprised at how strong your voice sounds, and you look them in the eye for the first since they showed up. You don't feel anywhere near as confident as you're pretending to be.

"Just tell us your name." It sounds ten times more threatening when you're looking at the guys, and there's a part of you that wishes you'd never looked up. You hold composure, however, drinking the rest of the water in your cup before crushing it on the counter.

"Like I said, I have a boyfriend. Now get out of my way."

When they don't move you take the risk of shoving past them, the action taking them by surprise enough for you to slip through the gap created between their two bodies. On the other side of them, relief wraps around your bones, as you see Jason in front of you, Gar and Rachel waiting by the doorframe of the kitchen. You take the few steps you need to be by his side, and once you're there you feel the familiar warmth of Jason's hand on your back.

"Hey," Jason offers his attention to the guys in front of him "I don't think we've met." He pulls you closer to his side as he speaks, and you look up to catch a glimpse of the anger in his eyes. It's not masked under anything except for a pissed-off smile.

"Who are you?" There's confusion written all over the faces of the boys as they await a response, and Jason doesn't bother with the dramatics anymore, getting to the point.

"I'm the boyfriend." He lets that sink in, and when the guys don't say a thing, he continues. "You know, the one she told you she had right before whatever the fuck this is" He waves a hand at the guys, and they don't seem pleased by it. But he doesn't flinch under their gaze. His is much more intimidating, and he knows it. Jason turns his head to look at you "I wanna punch them."

You could see this coming from a mile away, and you place a hand on his arm, though you don't know what that will do. "Don't punch them."

Jason grunts and you can tell he's fuming, though none of his anger is directed at you. "I'm gonna punch him." Jason nods toward the one closest to you and your eyes widen.

"Alright, the party's over." You grab Jason's hand, sparing a glance at Gar and Rachel that says, "A little help over here would be nice."

In seconds they are with you, Gar taking Jason's shoulders in his hands, trying to pull him out of the kitchen. For a moment you think you're gonna make it out without violence ensuing, but the two guys who dared to bother you before, make the mistake of laughing. Jason swings, and the sound of his fist hitting the first guy straight in the mouth makes a loud smack. The guy stumbles back, and whilst his friend is busy helping him up, you, Gar, and Rachel manage to pull Jason from the room, and out of the apartment.

The first words spoken once you're out of the party setting, come from Gar. "You guys are dating?"

"Yes, Garfield." The words sound like a hiss from Jason's mouth before he turns back toward the door. "I'm going back in there."

"No, no you are not." you pull Jason down the hall away from the door, hoping he doesn't make a break for it so he can continue the fight. "I told you not to punch him, why did you punch him?" You're scolding him and Jason meets your eyes, running a hand through his hair as he tries to calm himself down.

"He just had such a punchable face, you know? It was just made to be punched." He balls his hands into fists, before flexing his fingers out again as if remembering the feeling of hitting the guy square in the mouth. "Plus, those guys were being fucking assholes."

He frowns and you watch as concern takes over his features. "You okay?" Jason's mind is racing as he says it, and his urge to go back in there and finish the fight returns as he pictures the guys from the kitchen harassing you.

"I'm fine, Jason."

"Are you sure? It seemed pretty intense in there." It's Rachel who speaks, and as much as you love her, you hate the way her words spark Jason's anger once more. This time though, he looks to you for permission.

"Just give me ten minutes in there, I'll talk to them."

"And I assume you'll be talking with your fists?" You raise a brow, almost laughing at the concept of Jason talking something out in a civilized manner. He just shrugs, a smug smile on his lips.

"Only if a visual demonstration is required."

You swat him on the shoulder taking his hand and making your way to the staircase. "Come on, we’ve got to get back."

Jason sighs, following you with Rachel and Gar close behind. Soon, you're all jogging down the street in the direction of Titans tower, the four of you yawning and stumbling as you do so. Jason looks over at you as you race after Rachel, and he knows it's cliché, but he wonders how he got so lucky with you. You meet his eyes once, hot breath creating little puffs of steam in the cold night air. He moves up beside you, still running

"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" He pants as he says it because no matter what the movies portray, it is hard to talk and run.

"I'd kiss you back, of course." You shift your eyes between him and the ground in front of you, making sure you don't trip whilst distracted by Jason's words.

Jason lets out a heavy breath, "Awesome."

He stops running, catching your hand before you can get too far and pulling you back to him. You stumble as he does so, your sudden change in pace making you lose your footing. But Jason is there to grab you, and you conveniently fall right into his arms.

"Hey." You're breathless, and Jason gives you a second or two to pull air into your lungs before he's kissing you for what seems to be the hundredth time that night, but it never gets old. Jason doesn't think he could ever tire of your lips on his, and he thinks his dying wish if he got one, would be to touch you one last time. But he's not dying yet, so he's taking his time, one hand moving from your arm to the side of your face. You lean into him, and he soaks up the moment, knowing that at some point he'll have to pull away, but just not right now.

-

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @s00buwu @like-gabriel-and-castiel

DC TITANS TAGLIST;

JASON TODD TAGLIST;

[osirisiii-bc]

The thing that should not be [Terzomega One Shot]

I finally made it with a Terzo/Ghoul. What’s your opinion on POV fics? I used to write a lot of it in my past fandoms but here I see rarely this kind of fics. Thank you @van-goghs-smoking-skull for your help 🌹

Genre: slash, explicit, oral sex, sex, Terzo POV, young Terzo, sub Terzo, dom Omega, first time with Omega/a Ghoul.

Pairing: Terzo x Ghoul (Omega)

Rating: Nc17 (explicit but not properly smut)

Words: 2.943

Summary: Terzo is the 20 year old last heir of Papa Nihil and he’s definitely not having fun at his father’s birthday party. Luckily, a big Ghoul is around to save the night…

>>> Wattpad | AO3 | or down here 👇🏻

The first time we met, the big Ghoul and I, was in the hallways of the Ministry, shortly after the new summoning, but there was nothing more than a few distracted glances. I had seen him walking along with the other Ghouls, standing out for his size; their black robes covered every inch of their bodies, including their faces, making them look like nothing more than disturbing moving shadows.

The last time was a few days ago, and besides the looks, there was also the insolence of a mouth that was too big and too dirty to keep a few of their thoughts to themselves. 

It had been a coincidence that I happened to be passing by just in time to hear my name, followed by a somewhat ungentlemanly "I'm surprised none of us has fucked him yet."

The reply was even less gentle, “Just give me some time and my cock will end up deep in that throat.”

It must have been a group of Ghouls, judging by the voices, but from the cloister colonnade, I couldn't see them. A few more steps, and they were all there, gathered, chatting among themselves, some smoking with the cigarette passing under their masks. It was hard to tell who had spoken, but one of them, the tallest and most recognizable of the group, had stared at me a bit too interested while still laughing at what was said, even though it was impossible to imagine his expression under the mask.

I had noted that tone, knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.

Birthday parties are all dramatically the same and all equally boring, especially when it's your father's birthday. Or at least, I'm just in a phase of chronic dissatisfaction, as Copia would say.

Suddenly, a nearby, deep and familiar voice draws me to a small sofa that I only see from the back.

"...and so you're going on tour."

There is a girl with him, but I can't understand what they're talking about. I only catch a few phrases about music, and as I drink, I move a little closer. Just out of curiosity.

"Yes, in a few weeks." I hear him say, almost disinterested. 

"And is there a chance you'll take me in your suitcase?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd fit."

I almost want to laugh and clench the straw between my lips. I'd like to see the girl's face, but I only see her leave, probably after trying to hide her disappointment with all the self-control that a rejected woman can muster.

"You really know how to disappoint a woman." I say out of honesty, because I would have expected anything from him except for him to turn down someone like her.

He shrugs, not even surprised to see me there.

"If I listened to all those who flirt with me, I'd probably have little monsters scattered all over the world, which has probably already happened."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling my head a bit heavy for the few drinks I had. For now, it's still a nice feeling, but I've never been able to stop in time to leave it that way. Somehow, it's as if I need to create a balance just for the sake of destroying it with my own hands.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

I shrug, while I feel him watching my lips tighten around the straw.

I hear Sister Imperator calling me, and we both turn to her. "I think I have to go."

"You'll stay here, later?" That isn't really a question. It's an invitation, if not an order, and I quickly decide that I really like his orders tonight. "I'll make up for that incident in the cloister."

"See you later, then." I tell him as I boldly clench the straw of a now-empty cocktail between my teeth and move toward who I have always called mother.

After a night spent watching the others participate in the party, drinking and staring at the tips of my shoes as if in a catechism lesson, even the prospect of starting a conversation with Primo about his passion for succulents would seem interesting to me. Fortunately, my first brother doesn't have enough time to waste on me, so Copia approaches me, a cigarette between his lips and the rest of the pack still in his hand.

"Want something to drink?" he yells in my ear, as if the loud music gives him the right to think I've gone deaf.

"Do I look like someone who needs a drink?"

He nods convincingly. "Absolutely!"

"Then I'll go get it myself, at least it'll get me moving a bit. It's a real pain in the ass here."

"I haven’t seen you having fun lately!" He rolls his eyes before muttering something to himself, probably about what a creepy presence I am in his life. I hope that with alcohol around there's some action at least.

There isn't, or at least I don't get to know about it, as someone far more interesting than a drink blocks my way.

"Are you having fun?" 

The first time we saw each other, I must have had a really strange expression. It must have been at least five years ago and it was the first time I ever saw a real demon so close, but he hasn't changed at all, and I'm almost curious to know how he sees me now. Not that I expect him to understand concepts like age and physical change.

"Yes, yes."

"Shall we find a quieter spot, what do you think?"

I don't have the clarity to say no, and with a bit of luck, maybe I won't even remember it later.

I've seen him drink continuously during the party, but he seems as clear-headed as if what he's been drinking was fresh water. Either he holds his liquor well, or he knows how to mask it. Or maybe he's not a twenty-year-old jerk who collapses like an idiot after the third glass and makes a spectacle of his worst self.

I nod with a head that's a bit too heavy, then gesture for him to lead the way, only to stop him soon after.

"Wait a moment." I tell him, and I move away, looking for Copia.

When I find him, I only whisper, "Don't look for me… I'll be back in a while." making sure no one else overhears. He looks at me as if to say 'don't mess things up' - the way I have noticed everybody has started to look at me lately, as if they were ready to bet on me causing new trouble every step I take - and then reluctantly nods. I bite my lip, and the Ghoul takes his time to scrutinize me from head to toe as I approach him again.

When I don't want to feel utterly miserable, I seek refuge in Copia's reassurance. I revert to feeling at least ten years younger, shedding the darkness that has accumulated in recent years, especially when the hassle of being the last Papa's heir began to manifest. You need to start building your reputation very early, and I'm not exactly inclined to miss the fun of my youth for something that will likely happen in twenty or thirty years from now.

In all probability, later tonight or tomorrow I'll rest my head on Copia's shoulder, having him telling me that I'm a dickhead but that's ok, that the way to equanimity is a long and hard one, and I'll believe him.

The Ghoul raises a champagne bottle toward me, then hands me a glass as we sit on the secluded couches.

"To make it up to you." he explains, filling my glass like a seasoned gentleman. There's nothing to make up for, I'd tell him if I had the necessary courage, if you want, I can blow you right here.

We spend some time with a few words and many glasses that empty too easily, my stomach flaring up unsure if for the alcohol or who knows what else.

As I drink, I dare to throw a few interested glances at him, running my eyes up and down his frame, catching any relevant detail, even if it's hard to find them in a figure so covered up like his. The rings on his fingers, the shape of his shoulders, how he tilts his head when laughing… Anything can help me understand why him. And he does the same.

He talks about what he does, the music he likes to play, and worlds I've never seen.

Maybe I'll take you there. It always seems like he's about to say. Maybe we'll just stay there. Or maybe it's just me who wants to hear it from him.

I listen to him, barely hearing his deep voice, muffled by the mask he wears, and the party becomes just a confused cloud of lights and distant voices.

The mask is a testament to his past, his condition as a demon bent to the laws of a world not his own. Esoteric symbols stand out on his uniform; I focus on one of them, Omega. I decide on the spot to call him that from now on, aware that in the absence of an identity, everyone must have given him a different name.

How important it is for us humans to name everything. Perhaps that's our problem.

Omega, a guest who can't stay in his place and also the only one who manages to distract me.

We find ourselves drinking straight from the bottle, and I understand less than half of the things he tells me, but it seems to be okay with him. However, I can feel his hands lightly touching me while talking, so discreet that it surprises me. His are distracted caresses barely hinted at, words that say without saying, and I, who speak that language, immediately think of making it clear to him.

"Let's go to the bathroom?"

And I don't know if it's me or him who says it, but the fact is I get up, and he follows me.

Once inside, I let out a deep sigh that actually has nothing of the malice it seems. My ears already relax due to the newfound silence.

"I have to say you saved me from a boring night."

"You too."

I look at him through the mirror, and he does the same, at a comfortable distance from me.

"Really? Wasn't there anything more valuable than my company?"

He shrugs, then approaches, casting a glance at the door.

"It depends on how the evening might end..." he says with a very calm tone, getting closer until he's right behind me, but he doesn't touch me.

I almost want to laugh, but I let it stay just a little smile and I leave him there to enter one of the cabins and wait.

It doesn't take long before he follows me. He tries to enter, but he holds himself against the doorframe and dares to stretch only his head.

"Is there room for me too?"

I look away, tilting my head and shrugging, leaving it up to him to find out. And he does.

Perhaps my Ghoul doesn't like to give empty words, so he strokes my neck in a way I already know, and there's no need to even apply pressure for me to slowly slide down the wall to end up on my knees in front of him, putting into practice what he has fantasized about with his friends.

Too bad that this time there are no witnesses to prove how true to his word he is.

When he takes it out, I reluctantly admit that what they say about the Ghouls is indeed true. Me, a mere human, must accept and accommodate Mother Nature's wishes.

While I admire him, an involuntary "damn" escapes me, to which he responds with an avoidable "seems so.", but I decide to smile anyway. And then I begin.

I partly watch him and partly keep my eyes closed, relishing the weary satisfaction that comes from having the power to grip a man - human or not, as they apparently work the same - just by slipping into his underwear.

At some point, he stops me, and I understand that he wants to get serious; I stand up, and he immediately seizes my hips with those huge, hot hands. I've always thought of myself as not being a good catch for a woman, let alone a man, from this perspective... I have slender hands and long fingers, which I happen to know many appreciate, but they are minuscule in comparison to his; he probably doesn't even feel my touch.

From the way he's gripping me, it really seems like my entire body can fit completely between his hands.

He turns me around with expertise, and I let him.

I have too many thoughts in my head to properly think about how to move for him. Thoughts that I really shouldn't have in a situation like this, but I also know that this thing won't empty me at all; rather, it will fill my head even more than it already is.

As I gasp against the icy wall, I feel his face in my hair and his breath on my neck, escaping the mask he still has on.

"I like it like this."

Me too, sometimes.

I want to think about what a better person I could be, but instead, I let myself get screwed in a restroom by a Ghoul without saying a word, looking at the white tiles faintly mirroring my panting face while I moan and bite on the sleeve of my habit that still covers me, but not enough to grant me a decency I never really had. He has already said enough about me, and I remained silent even then. Maybe I deserved it. Sure I do.

When he thrusts, I feel it perfectly, almost too much. I feel it so much that I open my eyes wide and gasp, scratch the wall, and stiffen in a way that must amuse him. He grins in my hair and doesn't stop. Thank you.

At this point, I don't even know if this is actually his way to make amends, or if he has forgotten it along with the tenth glass he downed and changed his plans in the meantime.

In the following minutes, there are no words, and I'm grateful for that. I don't understand where one can find the strength to talk in a moment like this, when all you feel is your skin burning with flames that are only yours, and every breath seems like it's never enough.

Then it's just a warm breath on the skin, and what seems like a caress on my hips that now belong to him. At least for a while. Then I can't help but bend over in a way he doesn't seem to appreciate, or maybe he only takes it as a chance to pull my hair and tilt my head back, almost resting it on his shoulder, before pressing my chest back against the wall.

That's how I come, with one hand around my throat and the other resting on my hip, feeling my legs tremble and losing their strength as his thrusts get faster and stronger; I slide my tongue on my lip, hungrily savoring what's left of his flavor and all I can think of is how proud Asmodeus must be of me, while I ignore all the Clergy’s advice by letting those last drops of pleasure shake me and the voice dies in my throat in that last groan, while everything seems to turn white for a couple of seconds.

He holds me, saying nothing, with his huge hand holding himself on the wall, near my head, and the other firmly on my chest, pressing my back against him, and I can't say if that's a caring gesture or he just doesn't want me to fall on his feet.

I take my pack of Marlboros from my pants, which I've just put on, covered by my cassock, with hands still trembling a bit.

"Wanna smoke?" I ask, offering him one while I already have one between my lips.

"Nah." he mutters, as he gets dressed as well, as far as pulling up the zipper of his pants can mean "getting dressed."

I lean against the wall while he takes his time to straighten every fold in his Ghoul uniform, and I have strange thoughts.

"I was thinking about where we shouldn't be."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, not at all impressed.

"What we shouldn't have done..."

Encounters between humans and hellish creatures are not forbidden, but highly discouraged. Nobody can say what the true intentions of an entity born and raised in Hell may be, and it's always dangerous to form that kind of bond with subordinates, especially ones who don't feel feelings in the same way as humans. It is something to play with carefully.

"I only think about what we shouldn't be and we'll never be, so don't get ahead of yourself."

I shrug, also unimpressed. The cigarette is still unlit, and I don't think I'll smoke it.

"So disappointing is really your specialty." I joke, approaching him in this bathroom that now seems too big. I offer it to him, and he looks at it a bit strangely. "But keep this one." I tell him, and I like to think he's smiling under the mask. The fact is that he accepts it.

You keep it, so next time, I'll come back to get it. 

And we'll smoke it together.

[cherrycheridarling]

chemistry test | t.h.

tom holland x actress!reader

warnings: fluff and acting..?

summary: you're auditioning for the role of silk in the new marvel film. they've already chosen their spider-man and now it's time to see how much chemistry you two have.

wc: 1.9k

"Hi! I'm here for the Marvel auditions?" you greeted the lady who sat at the front desk.

"Hello! What's your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Nerves were running through your veins at lightning speed. The lady gave you a kind smile and told you to head to room three hundred and sixteen. You returned the smile before heading to the elevators.

Upon entering, you were faced with at least fifteen other women who were also auditioning. All with black locks and brown eyes. You'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly intimidated. Sure, you had done some small films here and there, but looking at the competition now was frightening. A lady came and handed all of you a small script. At least it was a distraction. You spent the entire time reading your lines and trying your hardest to memorize them.

You sat in the waiting room for at least fourty-five minutes before your name was finally called and you were escorted into another space. Once you entered, your eyes were immediately drawn to the long table where the producers, casting crew and directors - who you've met hundreds of times in your previous auditions - were sat. You shook hands and gave greetings, the usual.

"Y/N, meet our new Spider-Man." Kevin gestured to the brunette boy at the front of the room.

He was cute. Dangerously cute. His small curls that laid messily only seemed to add to his appeal.

You smiled and walked over to him, "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. It's great to meet you." you offered your hand.

He returned the grin before shaking your hand, "Tom Holland. It's a pleasure." you noticed his British accent and couldn't stop yourself from the confused expression that took over your features.

"You're British?"

He nodded with a smile, "That I am, but," he switched to an American accent, "I can turn it off, too."

Your smile grew, impressed by his ability, "That's so cool. I would try a British accent, but I feel like I might offend you."

He laughed with you for a bit, his hand still holding yours. You both noticed the predicament and quickly withdrew your hands. Sheepish grins showed on both your lips.

Joe Russo cleared his throat, "A little background information in case you're not familiar with Cindy Moon's story."

You silently thanked him for this since you were not at all familiar with whatever the character entailed. Only getting small glimpses of her personality and behaviour before you got thrown into the mix of auditions.

"Cindy and Peter went to the same school and got bitten by the same radioactive spider. A man took Cindy and trained her, but also hid her in a bunker when her powers became too much for her to control. Her Silk Sense – which is her version of a Spider Sense – is incredibly powerful. Stronger than Peter's. In this scene, Peter is saving her from the bunker. Understood?" he spoke so quickly that you nearly didn't catch it all, but nevertheless, you nodded your head.

"Got it." you put the script to the side and took off your jacket.

"Now," Kevin spoke, "Remember, this is a chemistry test. So we want to see – not just how compatible your characters are – but you guys, as well."

Your palms began to sweat. You already knew that they were looking for chemistry, but being put on the spot made your anxiety sky rocket. You nodded again in understanding.

"Sounds good." Tom went to the other side of the room, "Good luck." he sent you another frustratingly attractive smile.

You nodded with your own grin, "Thanks, Spidey."

You spotted a small cot beside you and made your way over, laying with your back to Tom. Ready to start the scene.

"Action!"

Before any lines were given, you lifted your head, but kept it facing the wall. As if you were listening for something, waiting for something.

"Spider- Boy? Guy? Spider-something." you spoke to the wall and a second later, Tom's footsteps were heard behind you.

"I prefer Spider-Man." Tom's voice filled your ears as he leaned against the wall. "Nice to meet you, Cindy Moon."

You held a hand to your head, as if a painful migraine had just arrived. "Your presence is causing me pain. Who-" you looked up at the man, recognition dawning on your features, "Peter."

"W-what? N-n-no, no, no. Who's Peter? I'm Spider-Man." he insisted rather poorly. Deepening his voice.

You turned your body around, hanging your legs off of the cot, "I-I feel it. I remember you. Parker from my science class. Left row, three seats behind me. And my math and history. Front row in history. Middle in math. You always had a new backpack every week."

"Eidetic memory." he mumbled under his breath.

"Hm?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Nothing. Never mind. We can discuss this later. You need to get out of here. And I have come to save you from whatever this place is." he eyed the space with disgust.

You eyed him suspiciously, "Is this some Disney movie? Is there a magical horse drawn carriage waiting outside?"

He showed a boyish grin, "I guess you can call me your knight in red and blue spandex."

You scoffed and stood up, "Okay, Parker. How'd you know I was here?"

"Oh! This awesome dude, Tony Stark, he knows, like, everything! A-and he told me that you were here and sent me on a mission– Which is so cool! But yeah, he told me to come and save you. And that is what I am doing." he jumped up and down like an excited child.

You eyed the space around you, "Wait. M-my powers. I can't control them. I-I mean, I'm trying, b-but it's still—"

"—We can focus on that later! Right now, the richest and sickest guy on the planet is requesting you. C'mon." he grabbed your hand and, as scripted, you both locked eyes immediately.

You tried your best to look like you were falling in love. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you found that it wasn't that difficult. He stared back into yours. His hand still wrapped around your fingers. Your free hand travelled to his face, as if you were about to pull his mask up. Resting your palm on his jawline. His other hand that wasn't grasping yours, rested on your hip. A light pressure that nearly sent you into a haze. You both began to lean in and it no longer felt like acting until you squeezed your eyes shut, shook your head and pushed him away rather aggressively.

You put a hand on the wall, drawing heavy breaths in and out, "W-what are you doing to me?" you looked at him through heavy eyelids.

Tom was in a similar position, back against the wall, hand over his chest, "Mister Stark said that m-might h-happen." his head was thrown back against the wall, showing off the expanse of his neck as he swallowed. "Something- Something about our senses causes a strong- How do I say this? I-Intimate attraction between us."

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing, "A-an attraction? An intimate attraction? To you? Ew."

He pushed himself off the wall, "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, Moon." he walked away from you, "We really need to get going. You- Oh! I've been wondering this: Where's your webbing?" he looked around as if he was searching for it.

You stuck your hand out and pretended to shoot a string of silk out of your finger and onto the wall. Tom followed your movements with a starstruck expression.

"That's sick! I have to make mine." he frowned, "We got bit by the same fricking spider and yours is in your hands? Let me see!" he came closer and attempted to grab your hand again before you quickly put it behind your back.

"Don't touch me." you spoke slowly, "I-if this attraction is caused by physical touch. Please, do not touch me."

He plastered on a playful smirk, "Oh, it's more than physical, Moon."

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the wall, "Dream on, Parker. Are we going to this Mister Stank or whatever?" you waved your hand with a limp wrist.

Tom gasped, "He's Iron Man! It's Mister Stark! Stark! Not stank! And you need a suit. Mister Stark has one ready for you at the compound, but you need something to wear on the way there." he looked around for one.

As if it had just dawned on your character that you were finally leaving the bunker, your attitude changed. A smile gracing your lips.

"I think I can do a little something."

You gestured your hands around yourself, pretending to create a suit from your silk. Tom watched with amazement, "Hey, how are you doing that?" he bent down and examined your body from head to toe.

"I had a lot of free time on my hands. Costume on-the-go. You like?" you smirked as you continued your movements.

Tom nodded his head as he came back up to stand beside you, "I could've saved so much time and money by doing that."

You finally completed your gesturing with a grin, "Ta-da! A bit sticky, but I think it'll do." you pretended to stretch around in the costume.

"Okay, let's go, Moon—"

"—Nope. Nuh-uh. When I'm webbed up like this, call me Silk." you smiled triumphantly.

And with that, the scene came to an end. The producers and casting directors all stood and clapped for you and Tom. You smiled widely at how successful it had gone. Before you could even react, Tom pulled you into a hug. Arms wrapped around your waist. Without a second thought, you wrapped yours around his neck with a laugh.

"You were amazing!" Tom praised you with a wide grin.

You couldn't help but to smile, "Thank you! It helps when you have an awesome scene partner."

His cheeks turned a shade of scarlet at your compliment before Anthony Russo spoke, "That was amazing! Thank you, Y/N."

You shook your head, "Thank you for having me."

Joe came and shook your hand, "Expect a call on Monday. Keep your ringer on." he smiled.

"And that wraps up the chemistry tests! Great job, everyone!" Anthony announced as you handed the script back to them and threw your jacket on.

You swung your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door.

"Wait!" Tom called from behind you.

You stopped in your steps and turned around with a kind smile.

He held out his phone, "Since we're going to be working together, might as well get to know one another." he had a timid grin.

"Don't jinx it, Holland." you let a light chuckle fall from your lips.

He shook his head, "It's not jinxing, it's manifesting and you were by far the best Cindy Moon. You've already got the part." he insisted making you shake your head.

"We'll see about that." you punched in your number and before you could add your name, Tom took his phone back.

"Wait." he quickly typed away.

'silk'

You smiled at the contact name before offering your phone. He typed in his number and took it upon himself to put the name.

'spidey'

"I'll see you around, Y/L/N." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.

You nodded, "Definitely, Holland." you turned around and walked out of the door.

Both of you were so engrossed in your interaction that you didn't notice the producers and casting directors watching from afar. Proud smiles dawning their lips.

They found their Cindy Moon.

[erensthottie]

Bonnie & Clyde — 1

[Eren Jaeger x black f!reader]

[Song] ‘03 Bonnie & Clyde | Jay Z & Beyoncé

[Warnings] swearing, use of marijuana, act of robbery, a bit of sexual activity, mention of blood

BLRRRRRRR

“WOO! Fuck yeah! Let’s go!” One of the robbers yells as he runs out of the bank smiling big with two duffel bags full of money. Smiling with him, another taller than the first runs behind him to the food truck that the getaway driver awaits in.

Running out with more duffel bags in y’all hands, you and Eren race out to the truck. Helping you in, the robbers take the bags throwing them in, and grabs onto your hands so you can jump into the moving truck.

Just then you guys hear the sound of police sirens blaring from around the bend. Coming at full speed they drift the corner, accelerating to catch up to y’all. Making eye contact with one of the officers, you smirk, blowing them a kiss and a wink before you and Eren close the doors.

“Step on it Alert!” Eren yells to Armin in the driver's seat.

Taking your seats, you sat in Eren’s lap, legging draping over his as you enveloped your arms around his neck full out making out with him. His hands rest on your lower back and outer thigh pulling you close to him, tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss even more.

“Your so bad you know that?” He smirks at you, slapping you on your thigh making you jump, giggling and smiling pulling him back in.

“What now boss?” One of the robbers asks as he takes off his mask. The same one who ran out first.

“Yeah, boss?” The other one, the taller one adds in.

Eren stops kissing you for a minute, still holding onto you looking at both men.

“Well, Connie… Jean. Now, we celebrate.” He smiles looking back at you.

“What’d you say beautiful?” He rubs your thigh, eyes never leaving yours.

Face getting warm and your body heating up, you softly nod with a low hum, looking right at him, leaning back into him for another kiss which he gladly accepts.

“Yeah!” Everyone cheers.

“Yes sir.” The men voice, bowing and taking their half into their duffel bag.

“Sir, the chef has informed me that dinner is prepared and ready.” A man with freckles told to Eren.

“Sir, the chef has informed me that dinner is prepared and ready.” A man with freckles told to Eren.

He grunts and makes his way to the route of the master bedroom which you currently stayed.

“You guys can take a plate, me and Y/n will take our share later.” He says as he walks over to the elevator down the hall. Getting in, he presses the third floor and leans back on the railing.

“Beautiful?” He calls as he walks into the living room from the elevator making his way to the room.

“Yes, darling?” You walk out, leaning against the door frame in a small lingerie dress that barely covered your thighs and ass.

Eren's eyes widen and his face turns red as he stops in his tracks. Dropping the bag, Eren lowers his head smiling, tongue poking his cheek while he scratches his chin. He slowly tilts his head back, with low eyes and inspecting your beautiful and amazing body in the sensual and seductive outfit.

"You know," he starts as he untucks his dress shirt, undoing the buttons on it then throwing it somewhere in the living room making his way toward your direction.

"You really are something right. This all for me beautiful?"

Eren unbuckles his belt allowing it to cascade to the wood tiles. Only inches away from you know, he wraps an arm around your body and pulls you close enough, placing a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to lean into the kiss.

You both makeout, entangled in each other pleasure blindly navigating through the room and successfully finding the bed tumbling right onto it while being able to not break the kiss.

"The things that you do to me. It makes me crazy, makes me fucking mad. I want you, I need you, I need your love and your body so bad. Let me make love to you. Let me hold you and tell you everything you crave hear while I go into your deepest places till I reach that sweet, sweet womb of yours and make you cum over and over on my dick. The same one that you love and cherish with your life." Eren slowly grinds his hips into yours, lips moving down your neck leaving open kisses in their waking.

"Will you let me do that beautiful? Do you permit me to reclaim you over and over again? Tell you I love you? Cum deep into your wet and tight pussy that I love and adore with all my life? Will you?"

Overwhelmed with all the oversensitivity and the burning pit deep in your stomach, you desperately nod your head as you repeat, "Yes... yes, yes, yes. Please~"

<3

"Nah Jaeger, you cheatin' out here." Connie says as Eren puts down a draw four card on the deck in the center of the table.

"No I ain't," he smirks taking a puff of the blunt before passing it onto Armin.

"I'm simply just playing the game Con."

"Cap! Y/n can't be helping you pick out your cards, that's straight bull." Jean points to you settled behind Eren's chair, giggling, eyes red and lidded as you stick your tongue out at him only for him to respond with a playful gasp and clutch chest.

"Oh please, Y/n could do whatever she feels like horseface." Eren quips leaning his head back to wink at you.

"Hey! I don't have a horseface you pigeon." Jean claps back.

Everyone including you burst out in laughter, unable to hold it in being that you all are under the influence.

“Marco, it's your turn.” Connie softly nudged at the man spaced out after putting his card down.

Marco blinks a few times to stop himself before looking at the cards in his hand and selected two number five cards, or what he thought were two six cards.

“Ayo, yo, pick up two fo’ your mistake!” Jean says as he starts to pull out cards for him.

“Huh? How?” he protests.

“Fuck is this?” Armin picks up the yellow six and nine card that he had put down.

“Ohhh.”

“Ohhhhh.” Jean mocked.

“Leave me alone, I'm smacked aight?” Marco explains taking the cards from Jean.

“Uno,” Eren says wiggling his last card in between his fingers.

Armin went a place down and a red draw two, leaning back in his chair with a smile, taking another puff before pasting the blunt to Jean “Uno.”

Eren daps him up telling him ‘that's what's up.’

“How the fuck y'all got Uno already?” Jean takes a hit inhaling picking out his cards and putting them down before passing on the blunt to Connie.

Taking his turn with the blunt and cards, he skipped Marco and Eren pointing to Armin to go.

Eren gives him a death look and shakes his head.

“Hey, it's just how the game is played.” he put his hands up passing the blunt to Marco who was once again spaced out.

“Dude, just go to sleep, Y/n will take over for you.” Connie shakes him back to consciousness.

“Yeah, I'll take ‘em for you.” you smile and take his cards taking his place in the chair before hugging him goodnight.

“Another hit Y/n?”

You nod taking the blunt from Connie and taking a deep inhale of the smoke and holding it before exhaling it out through your nose.

“Ou, he got some good cards,” you say sorting out the cards in your hand before you put down four skips.

“WOW!!” Jean and Connie say in unison.

“That's what we doin’ now beautiful?” Eren looks at you, holding the card to his chin.

“As Connie said before, that's just how the game is played.” you retort sending him a kiss.

“Hey, hey. Don't put me in this.” Connie said.

“I’ma getchu back don't worry.” Eren declares.

“Threat or a promise?” you test him.

“Take it how you wanna beautiful.” he jerks his eyebrow.

“If y’all wanna fuck just say da, damn.” Armin snarky remarks make Jean and Connie fall out of their chairs laughing.

“Shuddup Armin.” you joke laughing along.

Continuing with the game, you place down a reverse card making the rotation go counterclockwise. Connie went and put down a plus two to which Jean added another one. Armin then grinned at them putting down his last card, draw four saying ‘uno out’.

All eyes on Eren he looks back at everyone before looking at you.

“I told you I'll get you back right?”

Without saying more words he placed down a draw four on top of Armin’s. Everyone in the group gasps and ooh’s while they look between you and Eren.

“Pick up eight beautiful.” he says as he caresses your cheek.

You gasp, “Oh my God, noooo.”

“It doesn't work like that baby.” you say as you kiss his hand putting down an additional draw four card making the total 12.

From across you, you heard someone stifle their laugh, snorting in the process. You turn to see Armin with his hand over his mouth face slowly turning red from now breathing. He shakingly points his finger towards Connie’s direction. You turn in confusion and see him with a straight face, looking at the pile of cards.

“Connie…”

Everyone except him and you die of laughter, toppling over. He softly places the cards on the table, scooting his chair out, rising and walking away.

“No, No Connie wait!! I’m sorry!” you try your hardest not to laugh, trailing behind him, slightly stumbling from feeling high. He didn't answer only continuing to walk till he walked to his room, entering and softly closing his door.

“FUCK!!”

Y'all hear him yells at the top of his lungs and you laugh even harder than before. It's probably the hardest that y'all ever laughed in your life. You're laid out on the floor, holding your stomach as tears come out of your eyes and you buffer in place silently laughing. Eren laughing loudly head held back stomping his feet on the floor. Jean once again on the floor also laid out like you, shaking in laughter and he screams out with laughter, having that Windex bottle laugh. Armin jumping in his chair, wheezing and crying once in a while snorting loud as hell.

“Did something happen?” Marco voiced.

He was in front of y'all, rubbing his eyes in his oversized onesie with his blanket wrapped around him. That only made everyone succumb to laughter. Armin fell out of his chair onto the floor, Eren slouched in his chair in an uncomfortable position, Jean face down into the carpet and you on your back in an almost starfish position.

Marco freaks out, runs to each of your sides to check up on you only to be met with snores and soft breathing. Y'all laughed yourselves to sleep, who the fuck does that shit? Being as caring as he is, Marco uses the couch cushions and places them under each of the guy's heads, and covered them with blankets, even leveling Eren’s legs so he could be more comfortable. He picks you off the ground being sure not to wake you up and puts you on the big couch right by Eren covering you with a blanket as well.

He cleans up and puts out the rest of the light blunt in the ashtray and packs up the Uno cards. Turn off the light and whispers goodnight before leaving to his room.

All rights reserved to @erensthottie

Reblogs are allowed

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (3)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Chan being an ass.

Over the next two days, Chan found himself spending nearly all of his time with you. You had warmed up to him a lot, but was still a little cautious. He had to build up trust...somehow.

Spending time with you was excruciatingly boring. All you seemed to do was draw, and sitting next to you while you did was getting tiring.

However, whenever he would come close to giving up, something would happen to put him right back on track- whether it was Miyoung smiling at him from across the hallway, tucking her hair behind her ear like she always did...or Minho, shamelessly asking her out for a fucking date. Right in front of his salad.

No, literally.

He watched in horror as Minho chuckled, speaking to her on the phone in that raspy voice of his that was the fakest shit Chan had ever heard.

"Yeah, okay, babe. Bye~" Minho cooed, cutting the call and putting his phone down, resuming his meal as he dug into his chicken nonchalantly.

"Babe?" Changbin asked, smirking from the opposite end of the table.

"Hmm, yeah. Got a problem with that?" Minho asked, seemingly replying to Changbin but staring right at Chan as he said it.

"No." Chan lied, voice a little shaky.

"Oh, but don't embarrass him like this, Minho. He's only been wanting to ask her out for like, two years...yet you did it in five minutes." Hyunjin said, laughing.

Chan's grip on his fork tightened. He prided himself in being a patient person, more or less...yet these two definitely had the potential to turn him into a cold-blooded murderer.

"Where are you taking her?" Jisung asked, mouth full.

"To the carnival, tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to win her one of those giant plushies. I've always been good at those games."

"How romantic~" Jisung smiled. "You know we'll be there too though, right?"

"Uh huh." Minho grinned at Chan. "Don't worry! I won't leave my best friends for a girl. We'll be right there with you, the whole time."

"Sounds great. Don't know if Chan will like that idea, though..."

Minho tilted his head, tutting.

"Channiee~ you know I'll back off if you get the book, right?"

That was it. Chan stood up, spoon and fork clattering onto his plate as he left the table, fuming. His stomach growled with hunger as he pushed open the café door, walking out onto the street with his bag slung over his shoulder.

He'd just have his dinner at home.

***

"Wow. You really pissed him off." Jeongin noted.

Minho rolled his eyes, stabbing his chicken with the fork. "I swear, he has such bland taste in girls. Miyoung is the most brainless creature I've ever met."

"Why would you put up with that, then? And why do you seem so intent on irritating him lately?" Felix asked, frowning.

"I'm not really putting up with anything. She's hot, and she has a smoking body. Brains don't matter when you look like that."

"You know Chan likes Miyoung for more than her appearance. Although I can't, for the life of me, imagine what that might be..."

"Whatever."

"You didn't answer my question."

Minho sighed, raising an eyebrow at Felix.

"I just don't like the way he's been lording over us all lately. He acts like he's our 'leader' or something. I feel like I can barely breathe around him- at least this gets him out of the way."

"See? It's a battle of the alphas, after all." Jisung guffawed, high-fiving Hyunjin.

"So this is all just some power struggle?" Felix asked, disbelief lacing his tone. "Why the fuck did you drag an innocent girl into it, then? She has nothing to do with any of it-"

"Eh, she just gets on my nerves. Two birds with one stone." He shrugged.

Felix shook his head. "You're an asshole."

He smirked. "I know."

***

Chan knew exactly where to find you.

True to form, you were on the same park bench as always, legs crossed as you listened to music with your eyes closed.

"Hey..."

You opened one eye slightly as you realized who it was. Taking the earbuds out, you smiled.

"Oh hey...I didn't expect to see you again until tomorrow morning."

"Yeah well, I kinda knew you would be here."

You patted the spot next to you, and Chan hesitantly sat down.

"Where's your book? You're not drawing?"

"It's too dark for that." You pointed out, a lopsided smile gracing your face.

"Why are you here then?"

"My mom and her date went to this fancy restaurant." You explained. "And I didn't want to be all alone at home, so I just came out here."

"Ah. This place is just as pretty at night..."

"Mmhmm."

Chan sighed as he watched you play with your hair. It was kind of cute, how you tried to mask your nervousness by occupying your hands with meaningless actions.

"So what will you be having for dinner, then?"

"Probably ramen out of a packet. I hope we still have some left..."

Chan pressed his lips together. "Would you...um, would you like to come join me for dinner? At my house?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Oh..." You blushed, looking down. "I mean, yeah, sure-"

"Great!" You looked up, the smile on Chan's face so kind that you almost teared up.

God, Y/n, get yourself together...

You had no idea why he was being so nice to you at first, and had been wary initially...but the last few days had changed that. He seemed to enjoy spending time with you, and that was somewhat of a novelty- a person showing interest in you, that is.

Chan grinned at you, grabbing your wrist as he pulled you up. "Let's go!~"

***

"This is my room."

You gasped. "Wow, it's so big!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "It used to be a gym, I think...but my parents let me change it up."

"That's so cool." You went over to the posterboard, smiling as your eyes ran over all the polaroids and memorabilia Chan had collected over the years.

"My room isn't as personalized as yours...but this makes me want to give it a makeover." You smiled, going over to the window and marvelling at the size of it.

"Wow...you must get a lot of sunlight in the mornings..." You said in awe, pressing your nose up against the glass as you looked down.

"I do." He said, mind blank as he watched you fangirl over his room. You were so overly enthusiastic about everything...he wished he could be the same.

You turned around, that wide smile ever-present on your face. As you opened your mouth to say something else, you were interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

"Ah, I almost forgot. I brought you here to feed you." He winked, opening his door as he stepped back out.

"Come on, we can visit my bedroom some other time~" Your cheeks heated up at his words as he went back downstairs.

"Wait for me!" You followed him quickly as he made his way to the dinner table.

"Where are your parents?" You asked as you sat at the table.

"They're on a business trip, princess, and my siblings are at their friends'. So...we have the house all to ourselves." He winked again, and you quickly looked back down at your empty plate.

You thanked the maid as she served the food. It was pasta, and your stomach growled again as soon as you laid eyes on it.

"Wow, you're hungry, huh? Sounds like there's a baby bear living in your stomach~" He teased. You giggled, shaking your head as you took a bite.

"Oh wow, it's delicious."

"It better be, my parents don't pay her for nothing." He said, starting to eat.

There was silence for a while as the two of you filled your empty stomachs...but somehow, it wasn't awkward. Chan looked up at you from time to time, chuckling at how fast you ate.

"Slow down, babygirl."

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. That pet name, fuck.

Chan raised an eyebrow, picking up on how affected you were by it.

"Hmm, you like that name?"

You shook your head vehemently, going back to your meal- but your cheeks never stopped burning.

He hadn't expected to see you so flustered, when he'd literally just called you a name.

Wrapped around his finger, indeed.

***

"It feels weird hanging out without Chan." Jeongin sighed, adjusting the pillow under his chin as he lay on the mattress in Felix's basement, watching as Changbin and Jisung faced off in Call of Duty.

"Yeah? I feel like it's better. I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells." Hyunjin shrugged, prompting Minho to smile widely.

"See? He gets it."

"I don't know, Chan being here sure keeps these guys in line." Seungmin flicked his thumb towards Changbin and Jisung (the two of them mock-wrestling as the latter suspected that the former had cheated), not looking up from his book.

Changbin looked up from the headlock Jisung had him in.

"Oh shut up. Guys, I don't really understand why we pick on some random girl in school when we have our very own nerd right here." He sneered.

"There's a difference between being a nerd and having brains...something which you clearly don't know much about. I'll cut you some slack." Seungmin smirked.

"For fuck's sake, stop fighting." Jisung said as he poked Changbin's side, squeezing harder.

"Oh, the irony." Jeongin groaned, rubbing his forehead as he watched the two roll around on the floor.

Felix sighed as he buried his head in his hands, too tired to follow the conversation anymore.

What had happened to them?

***

"You should come over again."

"Yeah...I will. Some other time. My mom's expecting me, unfortunately." You said apologetically.

"At least let me walk you home?"

You paused, smiling slowly. "Alright."

The two of you walked side by side, the cool night breeze ruffling your hair.

"What are your hobbies?" You asked after some minutes of silence, curiously.

"Well. I like swimming, and also football." He paused, wondering if he should tell you more or not.

"I...I also like making music."

"Woah. That's amazing. Next time, you should show me some of your songs."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Some of them are kinda private, though..."

"That's okay. You only need to show me what you're comfortable with letting me hear." You said.

Chan smiled softly, nodding. For a second, it crossed his mind how you were willing to respect his privacy...and yet here he was, trying to violate yours by attempting to steal something that was clearly precious to you.

Miyoung. Think of Miyoung, He reminded himself.

You suddenly stopped, turning to him with a grin.

"We're here. Thanks for walking me home!"

"No problem..."

"See you later~" You waved as you walked backwards, turning around to open the gate.

"Wait-"

"Hm?" You twisted your neck to look at him questioningly.

"Uh...I was wondering, would you want to come with me to the carnival tomorrow? It'll be fun-"

"Yes! Sure!" You said, a little too eagerly.

"Great. It's a date."

"D-date?"

"Yeah." He smirked. "See you then, babygirl."

With that, he walked away, the image of your flustered face in his mind.

Miyoung would be his in no time.

[thewolfswriting]

The Dangers Of A Demon Chapter 4

Pairings: Demon Alpha!Dean x Katarina Morgan (Omega OC)

Word count: 2,136

Chapter Warnings: Profanity, Knotting, Oral, Dub-Con 18+ content just don’t read if you’re a minor

Taglist: @charmed-asylum​

Divider By: @firefly-graphics

"Y-you claimed me! Why? Why would you do that?!" She screamed at the demon with tears and in horror.

The cramps and pain that came with her heat were gone. That she was grateful for but she didn't expect to be claimed by anybody, and that included a demon Alpha.

"Yeah, you see, that's what happens after an Alpha knots an Omega. We both know you already knew that." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in his voice.

She touched the fresh bite on her neck and winced "I didn't want to be claimed." She sobbed "You claimed me on purpose."

He shrugged "If that's what you wanna think and  just because I claimed you don't mean I still won't kill you."

That didn't make the situation any better. However, only part of her wished he would kill her but only for the fact that she's been claimed by an Alpha that's a demon. But if he knew that he would just draw it out even longer.

---

"S-sheriff Morgan, sir? There's a guy here. He's here to see you."

Sheriff Morgan cocked an eyebrow "About?"

"He says he's here about the three Omega cases and his brother. He didn't tell me his name but he insisted on seeing you."

While confused, sheriff Morgan strutted towards his office to see someone sitting in front of his desk he hadn't seen in a long time "Sam Winchester. Haven't seen you in a long time. What can I do for you?"

"It's not about what you can do for me. It's about what I can do for you. I know your daughter is missing and I'm assuming Dean is here somewhere."

"Yes, he's here. He is also responsible for the three Omega's that are now dead. Sam, he has my daughter."

"I know."

"How so?"

"I know my brother better than anybody. Once he found out Katarina's your daughter, it became a game to him. It makes the kill more interesting." Even though Sam's tone showed sympathy, he also stated facts.

"Do you have an idea where he might've taken her?"

"Somewhere nobody can find her. We find her, we find Dean. I already interviewed someone, a guy named Tony."

"Yeah, Tony owns the diner outside of town."

Sam opened his notepad "He said there a scent he smelled. The kind of smell when an Omega goes into heat. He smelled it a few miles from the diner two night before"

Of course sheriff Morgan felt the fear he was dreading. The fear of his daughter going into heat with the man that kidnapped her and is going to kill her.

The words Dean said to him instantly replayed in his head "I can wait until she goes into heat, take what I want and then kill her"

He was beginning to lose the hope he had held onto since Katarina went missing. But now that Sam came into town, that hope instantly came back "Looks like we have our first lead."

"Looks like it."

---

Dean's claim mark on Katarina's neck still throbbed with pain even though it was half-healed. Once completely healed it would scar and she knew that. She tried not to make any sound of pain but no matter how hard she tried, he would hear it anyway.

The thought of trying to escape again crossed her mind. The stabbing with the knife, she could try that again, instead of stabbing him once she could stab him twice or three more times. But he heals quickly. So there goes that idea.

She remembered the window in the bathroom, so the idea of climbing out racked her brain. Only if she tried, surely he would hear her and catch her like last time.

Until he kills her, she's trapped.

---

The sound of the ax splitting the wood is what helped Dean somewhat get rid of his anger. For two days he's had to listen to her whimpering and sobbing of pain. All because of the claim mark that's currently half-healed on her neck.

For the most part he ignored it. But then eventually he got pissed at her and would yell at her. Even told her he would "rip out her vocal cords, then she wouldn't be able to make any noise"

"Omega's really can't handle pain." He said to himself

In some ways, Dean thought it was stupid of him to claim her. But most of it was out of Alpha instinct. He was able to control it with the other three Omega's and the others before them. With her, he couldn't help himself.

He should've just killed her after he knotted her. At least he wouldn't have any more visits from Crowley.

---

"Good evening, Dean."

"Damn it, Crowley! What do you want now?!"

"The Omega, she still alive I presume?"

"Like I've said I'm-"

"Dragging it out yes, I know" Crowley interrupted "It's been nearly a week, Dean. Never have you once dragged a kill out this long."

"What's your point?"

"Tell me, did you knot her like you did all the other Omega's before you killed them? Did you claim her too?" He took a step toward the demon.

"So what if I did? Just because I claimed her doesn't mean I still won't kill her."

"Alphas don't kill their mates. But like you just said, just because you claimed her doesn't mean you won't kill her. Now, get the job done."

---

When Dean came back inside the cabin Katarina was already asleep. He sat on the little stool in front of the fireplace and stacked the logs to build a fire. At least the smell of the burning wood would help mask her intoxicating scent that still clung in the air of the cabin.

Before crawling in next to her he removed every bit of clothing. He laid down next to her for what seemed like hours. Mostly, he watched her sleep. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He could still smell her scent. The blanket, the bed, the whole cabin smelled like her. The only other scent he could smell mixed with her's was his own.

The longer he laid there and took in her sleeping form the more her scent got to him. While scooting closer to her he ghosted his lips along the side of her neck and over the mark, taking a moment for his tongue to lick over the wound. As she rolled over on her back she whimpered and a low growl rumbled from his chest.

Gently he pulled her shirt over her head and began pressing kisses down her naked chest and down her stomach. Unbuttoning her jeans he ever so slowly dragged them down her legs with her panties. She moaned in her sleep as the Alpha spread her thighs and pressed open-mouthed kisses on her skin along the inside of her thighs. He wanted to bite her, give her another claim mark that wasn't on her neck. But he held back, he didn't want to wake her up that way.

Just as he suspected, she was already slick from basically doing nothing to her. He took his index finger and dragged it along her wet slit and up towards her clit, her hips jerking at the contact.

"Dean?" The Omega's eyes fluttered open even though she was still half asleep. She looked down just in time to see Dean's eyes on her as his tongue pushed between her folds "What-"

She tried to pull away from him, but his arms tightening around her thighs halted her protest "Shh it's okay 'mega. Alpha just wants to make you feel good."

Finally, his tongue sought out her sensitive, pulsating clit. Still, he kept his eyes on her, watching her expression as he gave her a solid lick against her bud before closing his lips around the oversensitive spot.

It was different when she wasn't in heat. Well, to her it was anyway. When she was in heat she couldn't control the waves of pleasure he gave her, or the intoxicating scent of her arousal her body radiated. But it seemed like it didn't matter whether she was in heat or not, her inner Omega couldn't deny the physical pleasure he was now giving her. But still, the shame was there.

Dean growled against her as he continued to work on her cunt, his tongue sliding down to her opening and collected some of her slick. Her wet walls clenched around nothing as he pulled back "Taste just as good as the first time."

A smirk spread across the Alpha's face when her hips bucked against him. He knew exactly what she needed. Without warning two fingers entered her now swollen, soaked cunt, instantly finding that sweet, sensitive spot deep inside her. Her breaths became raspy as he lazily twisted and turned the two fingers that currently occupied her inner walls. He turns his attention back to her clit, moving his head from side to side and his fingers quickened their pace against the spot inside her.

"That's it, cum for me 'mega" He says as her breathing grew raspy.

Soon she's screaming from the sheer force of her orgasm that crawled through her veins. Like last time he continued to finger and lick her until her body shudders against him. Only this time, she didn't have to beg him to stop.

"Need you on my cock, "mega!" He sits back, hauling her onto his lap, and arranged her legs on either side of his hips.

The swollen head of his cock pressed at her slit. She was still sore from when he gave her his knot two nights ago and because of that, she panicked. With her hands on his shoulders, she attempted to push herself off of him, but the vice-like grip on her hips by his hands tightened to keep her still.

"Dean, wait! I'm so-" Her words were cut off by a hand shooting up and wrapping around her throat.

"Remember what happens if you don't?" He snarled at her.

With his hand still around her throat, she managed to nod her head rapidly.

The panic only ignited in her more when he lifted his hips to push the first inch inside her. Just like last time, he was met with resistance, only this time, it was more of a struggle due to her walls being so swollen. She yelped as Dean slipped the thick head of his cock past her folds. The Demon grunted as he pushed in another three, her tight, aching ring of muscles clenched around him.

He placed a hand between them to rub her still sensitive bud in circles "C'mon 'mega. Open that pretty little pussy up for me."

Between the contact of his thumb on her clit and his words laced with lust, she opened up for him. Once he was finally able to slide the rest of the way in she clamped around him so hard it almost hurt. Her insides felt like they were on fire.

"Hold onto my shoulders." He said while giving her time to adjust.

Without hesitation, she leaned forward, holding onto his shoulders with her face buried in the front of his shoulder.

He pulls out, only the head of his cock is inside her until he thrusts back in. She whimpered in response. Slowly he thrusts up into her. His patience didn't run thin like last time and that surprises him. But she also didn't have the chance to protest against him either. Either time, that wasn't an option.

Now he was plunging into her at a much faster pace. Each time he fucked up into her, she released muffled whimpers against his shoulder. He paused his thrusts only to lift her up an inch, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the skin on the opposite side of her neck. Closing her eyes she expected him to bite her again, but to her surprise, he didn't.

Tears bloomed in her eyes, she could feel his knot beginning to swell and that was something she wasn't prepared for the second time.

With one hard, brutal thrust, he forced his popping knot up inside her. As his release coated her walls, his eyes diverted to the knife on the nightstand. Reaching over he picked up the knife by the handle, his eyes tinted black from the memory from Crowley repeating Dean's own words back to him "just because you claimed her doesn't mean you won't kill her".

With the knife still his in hand he pointed the sharp end towards her back. This was it, he's going to kill her.

But then something struck him. A conscious perhaps? No, Demons didn't have a conscious. But Alphas do.

"I-I can't!" The Alpha roared before plunging the knife into the headboard of the bed.

[applejongho]

a vampire's guide to blood dealing | bang chan

genre: humor, supernatural, adventure, dumbassery

pairing: vampire!chan and female vampire!reader named Mei (platonic)

description: Newly turned vampire Chan and old vampire Mei form a friendship through their shared hunger for blood, but can’t help but get into wildly bloody situations as their friendship blooms.

word count: 5.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, vampires, swearing, (a small amount of) violence

author's note: SURPRISE, I'M YOUR SECRET SANTA @meiiyue!! Did you guess me correctly when you had a hunch as to what my identity was at the beginning of the month? ;) You've made my month of December so much fun and I can't wait to start talking with you not behind my chanon pseudonym >:) anyways, chan and mei being dumbasses together, I had a HELLA fun time writing this and I hope you smile when reading <333

masterlist here!

SHE HAD KNOWN when the tea on his desk, next to the scattered medical papers and signatures that bound people to donating blood, was just a bit too red for any normal tea.

There was also the fact that the tea smelled like blood, but then again, everything smelled like blood at a blood drive. Being a vampire, Mei had to pinch herself every few minutes so she didn’t salivate all over the floor and reveal her bloodthirsty identity. She had no idea how the biology major that was running this drive, and also clearly a vampire by his red tea - Christopher “Chan” Bang - was holding himself together. Perhaps the tea was what kept him tethered to reality. But a vampire running a blood drive - that was the act of a being who had lost his mind.

Mei sat in Chan’s desk chair in his office - a white, cramped, doctor’s office that smelled like hand sanitizer - waiting for Chan to realize she was there. She had her feet propped up onto the table, black boots obscuring what seemed to look like calculus homework or chicken scratch. She couldn’t tell. So he studied here as well. Mei couldn’t help but laugh as she looked around his office: paintings of instruments that looked like they came straight out of a museum adorned the walls, a printer sat in the corner that looked like it would fall apart if it was asked to print one more paper, and a coffee pot with stains that would likely never come off. This was most certainly the living space of a tired and stressed college student - he had hidden his vampirism well. She doubted he even used the coffee pot anymore, Mei herself couldn’t bring herself to swallow anything except for blood.

She wondered how she hadn’t noticed the other vampire sooner. But now that she had found him, she was determined to befriend him and possibly help him; he couldn’t have been a vampire for too long. Mei shuffled her feet so they sat over some chemistry homework instead. She hoped she looked intimidating because it would have been embarrassing for a two-hundred-year-old vampire to not strike some sort of visceral and primal emotion into a baby vampire.

Like on cue, Chan entered the office with such frantic movements that she swore he would trip on himself. He had tousled black hair and a white lab coat snug on his shoulders that looked a little too perfect to be a real lab coat, like one a small kindergartener would wear on career day. He also carried a clipboard, and seemed to notice his franticness before he noticed Mei because he made eye contact with her but was much too delayed in his reaction to say anything until at least a few seconds later.

“Hello?” He said after a few seconds, staring at her. He looked like he was going to pass out with her feet on the table, or maybe he was just startled that someone was so confidently intruding on his space. Mei kicked her feet back onto the ground.

“Hello,” Mei said in greeting, then gestured to Chan’s cup of tea on his desk. “May I ask what kind of tea this is? It has such a wonderful taste. I couldn’t help but have a taste.”

He looked like he was going to pass out. “It’s a really, um, exotic flavor,” Chan said, placing his clipboard down on his desk. Mei glanced at it. It looked like a medical form. “You wouldn’t like it. Or, no, I’m really surprised you like it.” His voice had a clear accent - British? Mei was slightly surprised he wasn’t asking why she was in his office. He was probably too worried over the tea.

“Oh, it was bloody delicious, whatever it was,” Mei said. Chan looked like Mei had just found his illegal drug stash. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing. I’m a vampire. And I’m going to be terrified if you’re not also a vampire because it would be weird if you were a human drinking blood.”

Mei hadn’t realized Chan was on edge until his shoulders shrunk down a few inches and he gave a small smile. He was refreshing to see at ease - Mei was far too used to people being scared of her. “You are?” He asked in that hopeful fledgling tone that made her heart clench.

She nodded. “For two hundred years. I’m assuming it’s hardly been a month for you.”

She could tell he tried not to be phased by her age. It was routine for humans and young vampires to not be able to comprehend her age. “Three weeks, actually,” he laughed nervously. “I signed up to run this a few days before I got turned. I would have never accepted had I known...”

He trailed off, but Mei understood. “Baby vampires are usually more thirsty than adult vampires, and even I felt a little unhinged walking by all of the vials. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

Almost on cue, Chan reached for his tea cup and took a long, quenching drink. Mei watched him drink. He let out a breath after he finished, and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. “It’s painful,” he said simply. He let out a nervous laugh and scratched his head. “I was going to come in here for a break from the smell. But you’re here.” He stared at her for a moment, and Mei could see the gears turning in his brain. “Can you help me?”

It was such a vague question, but Mei nodded with certainty. Can you help me be a vampire? Can you help me not kill everyone in this blood drive, because I seriously might? “Let’s first give you a mask to wear. Like one of those disposable doctor masks?”

“I already thought of that, it doesn’t work,” Chan groaned, but Mei shook her head at him. 

“Do you have gum?” She asked. “Peppermint flavored?” He wordlessly gestured to the main drawer in the desk, confusion etched onto his face.

Mei pulled out the gum. “I know you don’t want to eat it, and you don’t need to.” She unwrapped a piece, but threw out the gum, holding out the wrapper for him. “Stick this into your mask. I don’t think it will mask the scent completely, but it will certainly be a distraction.” She raised her eyebrows at him and urged him to take the wrapper. He took it, looking at her with wariness stretched across his face.

“Really?” He asked, pulling a blue mask out of his lab coat. He grinned and slipped the mask on, sticking the wrapper in it.

“Absolutely,” Mei said, not absolute at all. She had thought of this out of the blue. He seemed to relax at her certainty.

“Thank you,” he said. Even with a mask on, Mei could tell he was smiling. It was a smile of gratitude, a smile of being seen. “It’s... it’s so relieving that there’s another vampire on campus. It’s nice to know you’re here. Even if you broke into my office and ominously waited for me in my office chair.”

“That’s what I’m here for, I suppose,” Mei laughed. “I would say that I’d help you with the blood drawing, but I’m a music major. I certainly don’t have any license to perform anything related to human health.”

“Can you help me pack up the vials after the blood drive is over?” Chan asked quickly. “It’s just me and two more people, and they’re assigned to clean up. I’d trust you to, you know, not tamper with them.” Mei noticed he avoided saying the word blood. He must have been fighting his thirst harder than what he was letting on.

“Yes, and take another sip of your tea,” Mei recommended. He did so, rather rushed. He wiped his mouth and pushed his mask back on when he was done and gave a cooky grin that she could see through his eyes.

"I have to get back to... the blood tests, but I suppose you can stay here." He stood, silent for a moment. "Feel free to do my chemistry homework if you're bored."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mei said sweetly, causing Chan to give a snarky eye roll. Then, he exited the room to continue with the blood drive.

Nearly six months later and with another semester gone by, Chan and Mei had formed an unlikely, yet close friendship. Mei preferred to say they were blood-bound because between Mei's music theory classes and Chan's cellular biology homework, the two of them had no academic similarities. They had first hung out together in the library of the university, both always carrying opaque flasks of blood that felt like an inside joke between the two of them. They had upgraded to spending a few weekends together, and now they were practically inseparable. Chan knew all of Mei’s quirks, like how she had to practice guitar in the mornings and piano at night, or how she had to always be in the same practice room to get anything done. Mei knew Chan’s sense of humor, which was essentially knowing his entire personality - quick puns that could slip by as casual comments, or teasing that was prolonged and never-ending. He had gone an entire month speaking in a British accent when Mei had mistakenly called him British. There were certain phrases he had taken upon himself to abuse profusely.

“Bloody hell, I’m Australian!” He had told her, giving a teasing grin. “Aren’t you old enough to have traveled to other countries to know their certain accents?”

“I’ve been all over Europe,” Mei had corrected. “Mostly Spain, Portugal, and France, and not so much Britain. There are so many different dialects of English in Britain that I had just assumed that your accent was from there, so shut up.”

Chan had taken a sip of his blood tea and had given the evil look of a taunting younger brother. “Then I suppose your mind isn’t as sharp as you thought it was. It makes sense, considering you’ve been un-alive for more than two centuries.”

“I’m going to stake you,” Mei had said sweetly.

Another fond memory was when they had gone to a museum so Mei could narrate what actually had happened in history as they walked through exhibits. What they discovered instead was a love letter Mei had written to a female lover when she was a young vampire that had an entire exhibit to itself. And, as historians usually were, they had erased the gay undertones of the note. Chan had to stifle giggles as he read an excerpt from the exhibit’s description that very proudly declared the note full of heterosexuality, while Mei had to hold back on murdering every employee in the museum. Mysteriously, that was the last time they had ever gone to that museum.

Yet none of these experiences or moments could top the underground blood ring.

Mei and Chan, during the semester, stole small amounts of blood from the monthly blood drive a few biological science majors held, enough to keep them satisfied for at least until the next blood drive. But now the spring semester was ending, and unlike winter break, summer break was much longer and hotter. Neither of them loved going outside because, as vampires, too much time in the sun would make them thirstier and sometimes blister.

“So what should we do?” Chan asked, sitting with his legs crossed on Mei’s couch in her apartment. “You’ve been a vampire much longer than I’ve been one. What have you done in the summer?”

“Back when I got my last degree, cameras were really terrible and too weak to see me,” Mei said, squinting while reading something on her computer. Mei had gotten a creative writing degree back in the 80s in Spain, and a history degree in the 60s. She liked to point out frequently that she would have gotten many more degrees, but sexism prevented her for a long time. “Which had made it much easier to steal blood or drink from a sleeping person, regardless of the season. But cameras are much better nowadays, and while they still wouldn’t be able to see either of us that well, they would see things being moved around and possibly changes in shadow. And we don’t want that. Also, with you being a new vampire that’s not an expert at stealthily drinking blood from someone, we can’t just have you slinking around peoples’ houses at night.” She sighed and shut her computer, then gave Chan a look that made his spine dance.

“I have a few ideas, but none of them are that ethical or easy,” she said, grimacing. “Do you have any?”

Chan pursed his lips. “I could try hosting another blood drive?” Chan suggested, then discarded the thought. “Or we could go to the hospital I intern at and steal blood from there.” He said that calmly, normally, and Mei was a little shocked at how nonchalant he had become regarding blood acquisition. He used to cringe when Mei gave crazy stories of how she had taken blood from people.

“Hospitals should keep their blood, though,” Mei said, ignoring Chan’s surprised expression. “It’s one thing to take a few blood vials from healthy college students. It’s another to withhold a hospital’s stock that could potentially save someone’s life.” Chan wanted to mention that the blood collected from the university’s drives eventually made it to the hospital, but he didn’t want to create an ethical debate. They were already unethical as it was, being undead beings that drank blood.

“Okay,” he said, sighing. “So what are your ideas? Because those are mine.”

Mei gave a little smile, and Chan got nervous. “Mei, what are you thinking?”

“I was thinking of an illegal blood ring,” Mei said casually, then folded her arms over her chest and frowned at him when Chan gave an expression that was equivalent to her saying she had murdered someone. “I know your track record is perfect, but as a desperate vampire, I don’t know what else to tell you. Would you rather starve?” Chan opened his mouth to speak, but Mei held up a hand. “Hear me out.”

A million thoughts were running through his head, but Chan did as she said. She was right, he did have a perfect track record because it was imperative for someone that wanted to go into medicine that it was spotless. A blood ring was the perfect addition to his record if he wanted to throw away his degree and any chance of employment.

“There are more blood rings than you’d think, and a lot of them aren’t nearly as scary or dangerous as you might think,” Mei started. “Think of doctors that are fed up with blood donation regulations because certain people, such as gay people, can’t donate blood. Think of psychopaths that want to sell tainted or drugged blood to scrape a profit. Think of people without ID that need blood but can’t get it through lawful means. These are the types of people we’d encounter, and considering that we’re both strong and smart vampires, being friendly with them, stealing blood, and then jetting wouldn’t be hard. We’d only have to do it once,” she said as Chan’s expression darkened with doubt. “I don’t love the idea either, but I think it’s doable. Allow me to ask around, and I should be able to find a place for us to go and get our blood within a week.”

“And what about next summer?” Chan asked. “And the summer after?”

“By then, you’ll hopefully know how to take blood from humans in their sleep,” Mei said evenly. “I should have taught you earlier, but I didn’t. Please, Chan,” she said and gave a look. “Just go with me. I promise things will be fine. And if it doesn’t, we can just change our names and go to university somewhere else.”

“You’re insane,” Chan groaned. There was nothing smart about this plan. Chan could name several things that could go wrong off of the top of his head: the blood they could get would be so drugged that both of them would kill someone in their insanity, they could get caught or ratted out and lose their place in the university, or they could simply get killed by the blood dealers. But Chan begrudgingly agreed with Mei because it was the only plan they had. And blood, as delicious as it was, was slippery to deal with. This was simply one shady deed in a life that would last an eternity. He was too young to understand the small weight of this blood ring that would carry on his immortal life. He had to trust Mei.

“And besides,” Mei said, climbing off of her bed to grab a bag of blood from her fridge, “you can think of it as a heroic job. Maybe we can rat out the blood dealers to the cops, steal their blood, but then tell the police they destroyed it all in a hairy crossfire. You’re not the bad guy, Chan, nor a vigilante. You’re just a vampire that needs his needs met.”

So a little more than a week later, Chan found himself in the passenger seat of Mei’s Toyota, Mei driving like she was on her way to the grocery store to pick up some eggs. “Mei, I don’t know if we should do this,” Chan said, shifting nervously in his seat and rubbing his hands together.

Mei turned smoothly to a dirt road. The highway they had been on before had been smooth, so the new bumpy terrain made the two of them bounce around in the car. It just made Chan even more nervous - this was territory that wasn’t crossed often. “Chan,” Mei said in the same way a mother would soothe a child, “we’ll be fine. Like I said before, I wouldn’t be able to do this alone. You’re here for backup. I told the dealer you have a black belt and can make shit fly if things don’t go as planned.” 

“I don’t have a black belt,” Chan felt he had to point out.

“And they don’t need to know that,” Mei said calmly. She turned again. Somehow this road was even bumpier. Chan felt like he was going to throw up. “You’re here for looks and intimidation. And if things do go awry, you look strong enough to do damage.”

Chan groaned. It was night out, and Mei turned off her headlights. It wasn’t a problem because both of them could see fine during the night; it was so no one else could see them. “Just relax,” she continued, which made Chan even less relaxed. “Think of the blood.”

Thinking of blood did make him feel better, much to his relief. He sat dazed while Mei navigated through the dirt path, thinking of the result rather than the work he had to do to get there.

Mei parked the car in between some trees and the two of them got out. Mei adjusted her hoodie and sunglasses, which made Chan pull out his sunglasses as well. He felt like a fake criminal putting them on. They only did this in movies. “This way,” Mei said, her voice amplified because of the silence that hovered around them. Trees were everywhere and Chan had no idea how Mei had managed to maneuver the car into the forest. He hoped a quick escape wasn’t going to be needed.

Mei trudged through the forest, Chan following. She led him to an old shack that looked like it was one breeze away from toppling onto itself. Chan had to duck to not hit his head on the door frame. The inside smelled exactly how a dilapidated and abandoned shack should smell like - grimy, slimy, and dusty. Then, of course, there was the smell of blood. He knew Mei could smell it too by how she stood straighter, or perhaps that was to seem more intimidating, because Chan had just noticed a few more figures already in the shack.

“I presume you’re Em and Bert,” said a cool, feminine voice across from them. The blood dealer.

“Bert?” Chan growled, quiet enough so that only Mei could hear, but she only smiled.

“That’s us,” Mei said, her voice devoid of the humor and carefreeness it usually held.

Even in the shadows, Chan could see the other woman give a smile. Despite the hood and mask she wore, the blood dealer wasn’t too incredibly intimidating. Chan thought she was sitting at first, but she was just short. A small lock of curly and blonde hair stuck out from her hood, giving the illusion that she was a small child. He almost snickered, but he was nervous himself.

Then he paid attention to her bodyguards. Three bodyguards were surrounding her, all tall, dark, and intimidating. The one to her right looked like he had muscles that could clock him into next week, while the one to her left had eyes of steel that he could feel scanning him. The one in the middle, right behind her, had the veiniest hands he had ever seen. He imagined them choking Mei or himself and he shuddered. Like the girl, they all had hoods and masks to conceal their identity.

“And do you have the money?” The girl said, a lilt to her voice. Mei nodded and pulled out enough money in cash to pay for an entire semester of school. Chan was amazed at his self-control to not do a backflip in the middle of the shack. Where had she gotten so much? He decided he’d have to ask later, or never.

The girl’s expression didn’t change at the sight of the money. “Put it on the table,” she said, then waved a hand to a three-legged table that sat in the middle of the room. Mei placed the wad of cash onto the table, then swiftly stepped away from it like the table was going to suddenly grab her hand if she didn’t move fast enough. 

Chan was hit with a pang of anxiety. Why hadn’t Mei asked to see the blood first? The bodyguard to the girl’s left pocketed the money. They could be murdered right there, and Chan still had to study for his anatomy final. He glanced over to Mei, who appeared to be unfazed. He gave her a look that he hoped she interpreted as, “do you still have an ounce of sense rattling in that brain?”

He didn’t need her to answer, however, because the girl motioned her hand. The buff bodyguard to her right bent down and picked up a box - Chan’s heart sank - a small box. His vampire senses started screaming because now the scent of blood had a visual paired with it, but there wasn't even that much. At most, this box of full blood vials would last Mei and Chan a month, which was less time than the two of them had for summer. The bodyguard placed it onto the same table where Mei had placed her money. This time, Chan took the case of blood. It was heavier than he had suspected, but it was still so little.

“You promised more,” Mei said evenly, echoing Chan’s worries. “I brought the money you wanted. Where’s the rest?”

“This is all we have left,” the girl said smoothly, and Chan had read enough crime novels to know that was a twisted truth. Likely, someone else had outsold them. And based on the amount of money Mei had given, that was an accomplished feat.

But even so, Chan could smell more blood somewhere, much like a human could smell both cookies and brownies being baked in a kitchen. Was it the blood from the girl and her guards? He didn’t think so, because that wasn’t the case when he was surrounded by fellow university students.

He didn’t have to look at her to know that Mei had smelled as much. Mei’s mouth twitched.  “I see more right there,” she said, pointing vaguely towards the girl. The bodyguards stiffened.

“We have no more,” the girl repeated, her tone stricter than any of her bodyguards’ body language. Her eyes narrowed, and Chan caught the hue of them - blue. “Perhaps if you had offered more money, or if you were a bit more reputable, I would have-”

The girl was unable to finish her sentence, because Mei had darted forward, faster than any human could have ever moved. Before Chan realized what she was doing, Mei already had a hold on a second box, identical to the one he was holding. It must have been hiding somewhere, and for whatever reason Mei had managed to see it.

Chaos ensued. The girl screamed, Chan screamed too, and Mei had delivered a blow to the muscular bodyguard, sending him to the floor. He realized that he was supposed to act the part of the strong sidekick, but Chan’s rationality and legs had a different idea. He was not fit to fight. While Mei sized up another bodyguard, Chan took off running. He ran out of the shack, blood vials rattling violently in his hands. He realized too late that under no circumstances could he drop the box of blood - it would defeat the purpose of Mei’s inception.

To his chagrin, he realized one of the bodyguards, the one with veiny hands, had taken off running behind him, and Chan deliriously wondered if he was good at playing piano as he dove into the dark forest around the shack.

“Stop!” The bodyguard yelled as if Chan would obey. He ran further into the forest, grateful it was nighttime. He could see easily, and based on how the bodyguard faltered around the frequent trees, he didn’t have the same advantage. Chan slowed his running when he saw how far behind the bodyguard was and crouched by a particularly large tree, cradling the vials of blood like they were a newborn baby.

He heard the bodyguard come closer, but Chan had faith that he was hidden and quiet enough to not be noticed. “Shit!” The bodyguard swore when he must have been about ten feet away. Chan remained perfectly still, crouched low, not breathing. He was dimly aware of the spiraling and sharp pain coming from his toes because of the way he was sitting, and he decided to ignore it. Then, without warning, Chan lost his balance and toppled onto the forest floor, the vials crashing into each other and creating a cacophony of noise. It was Chan’s turn to swear.

The bodyguard was upon him within seconds. Chan had barely gathered himself and the blood, and was still struggling miserably on the forest ground, pain exploding from his toes. “Are you insane?” The bodyguard growled, his voice rough. Chan squirmed away from the bodyguard and barely missed the bodyguard’s lunge towards him. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to reach for his neck or the blood.

“Yeah,” Chan answered him, tripping into a standing position, but the guard was too close for him to make a run for it. The adrenaline racing through his system had adrenaline, and briefly he wondered how Mei was doing. Could she hold off two bodyguards and that girl on her own? He wasn’t doing well even with one. His knees began to shake, and for a moment he wished he had never become a vampire - he wouldn’t have ever been in this situation. He wouldn’t have been moments from death or capture.

“You must be truly desperate if you’re willing to steal from people like us,” the bodyguard snarled. “What were you gonna do with it all, resell it? Give it to authorities to rat us out?” He backed Chan into a tree. “Or fucking drink it?”

Chan’s eyes widened, and a lightbulb glowed in his mind with a ridiculous idea. For the past few months, Chan had adjusted to being a vampire, but he couldn’t help but often felt alienated even with Mei being a new addition in his life. He avoided drinking blood in front of a human and even broke out into a sweat when it was in a concealed and opaque container in fear of their terrified reaction. Now, Chan took this opportunity to turn the tables in his favor. He just hoped he wasn’t the greatest fool for doing it.

“It tastes like cranberry juice,” Chan said in a voice that was much too cheery for how unhinged he felt internally. Then, without warning, he uncorked one of the vials of blood and chugged it. He let it slosh around in his mouth as a red sea, he gurgled it, he let it run over his mouth and onto his chin, and he prayed to some god, a god that likely had damned him already, that this plan had an ounce of sense. At least the blood tasted good.

“What the fuck?” The bodyguard choked, which was precisely the reaction Chan had hoped for. Chan kicked out and slammed his leg into the bodyguard, causing him to sputter in surprise before falling to the ground. His head connected with a tree and the sound was sweetly sickening. Chan stood, staring at the man lying unconscious on the floor, staring at his hands, staring at the blood. He must have stood there for a few minutes in stunned silence, before being interrupted by screams and shouts coming from the old shack.

“Seungmin!” A masculine voice shouted, and Chan assumed the voice was referring to the knocked out man lying on the forest floor in front of him. Unfortunate for both of them. A few more screams, and then, “-in the building!”

He heard a crack, and the most horrible, loud sound of splitting wood, metal chafing, and tile cracking overcame all silence in the forest. Chan cringed as he ran back towards the shack, fearful of Mei’s safety.

He emerged from the forest, only to have Mei dart in front of him to seize his wrist. Her hair, done in a ponytail under her hood, had become exposed and frazzled, but otherwise she seemed fine. She was carrying the second box, that special box, under her arm, and Chan wanted to cry with relief. They were both okay, they had done what they had come to do. “Car!” She huffed, then took off running, still gripping Chan. He felt like a rag doll being yanked by his five-year-old owner as Mei dragged him towards their escape.

He threw himself into the car, Mei already driving before his butt hit the seat. He placed his box of blood at his feet and felt out-of-body as Mei drove like a demon out of hell out of the forest and onto the gravel road. Chan had never felt so happy to feel the motion sickness that came from the rough terrain. He glanced over to Mei, who had ripped off her sunglasses. She looked like she had just slain a dragon and was glowing with adrenaline. Chan was filled with the happiness of knowing her. How could he ever have gotten so lucky? He broke into a grin, then began crying with laughter.

“We did it!” He cried, and Mei joined in with him after a few moments. He could hear the tension, fear, and anticipation leave her body as she laughed - a joyful, boisterous, and relieving laugh that seemed to be perfectly in rhythm with the car bouncing on the gravel road.

“We did, didn’t we?” She choked out after her laughter subsided. “But God, Chan, you look like you were shot in the mouth. What happened?”

Chan suddenly remembered his silly vampire distraction, and he burst into laughter all over again. “I scared the daylights out of the bodyguard that chased me by chugging some of the blood,” he giggled. His head was going to fly off of his head in the next few seconds. “It was all I could think of to distract him.”

“Oh my God, Chan,” Mei laughed. “That’s brilliant.” Mei turned, and the car gave a few jolts as it tore into another dirt road. “I destroyed the shack. It was sort of an accident, but it was only a matter of time.”

“And how’d that happen?”

Mei chuckled. "Throwing a bodyguard enough times against a wall causes a lot of strain on the house. I think I crushed everyone in the shack. Oh!" Chan's mouth dropped open as Mei reached into the center pocket on her hoodie and pulled out the wad of cash that she had used to pay for the blood. “There’s this.” She threw it into his lap, and Chan jumped as it touched him.

"Mei!" Chan gasped, unsure whether to laugh or be terrified. "We literally stole from them, and now we cut them short of-"

"Yeah, and they cut us short too," Mei shrugged, having an ethical compass of a seesaw. "Their leader, the little girl, promised me a second box. I was essentially paying for two boxes and she only gave me one. It's only fair. Well, at least for us." Mei stared off into the distance as she drove. "And I bet you smelled the blood of the second box, too. Perhaps she thought she could undercut us. Either way, I hope all four of them are screwed either financially or physically. Honestly, I might have killed the ones in the shack. But now I can pay for my next semester and not die of thirst over the summer." 

She said all of this causally, and Chan didn’t feel like lecturing her. He had sins too, lying unconscious in the forest. Chan also decided not to ask where Mei had gotten her money. He didn't want to, because he knew she didn't have it before this. "I mean, they're blood dealers," he said instead. "I don't think they care about laws or rules. But still..."

"Still nothing, Chan," Mei laughed. "We did it. Can't we celebrate?"

"Ah, two vampire college students stealing blood from a shady group of people that we might have killed. Congratulations to us," Chan said in a mocking voice, but smiled. "We certainly did it. Let's never do it again."

"You can say that again," Mei agreed. Her mouth quirked upward, and she barely suppressed a giggle. "Honestly, I thought we were screwed the entire time," Mei said carefully. "I thought they'd have backup in the forest or around the shack. Me reaching for that second box - that was pure stupidity."

"But we got our blood," Chan said with a note of finality.

"We got our blood," Mei echoed. Against all odds, they had pulled off a plan only a college student could conjure. "If we can do this, finals will be easy."

"Are you sure about that?"

Chan and Mei bickered back and forth over if finals or stealing illegal blood from shady vandals was harder (finals won) until Mei got onto the highway. Homebound and their goal accomplished, the two vampires laughed all the way home. In the sky, the moon's white rays glowed on them, the foil of the sun that they had grown to love as creatures of the night.

[final-girl96]

Radioactive Spider Bite

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: language, vilonce, muture content? Maybe later on?, jealousy, death, idk its marvel... slow updates.

A/N: please don't be rude. Feed back is welcome but be kind. If there is any little details you would like to change to fit your style and personality please do so. This will also be on my WATTPAD along with all my other stories. This begins with Civil War when Peter comes home to find Tony Stark there. It will go to Homecoming, Infinity War, End Game, Far From Home, and then when No Way Home is out and I watch it the story will continue as long as there is a new movie with Spider-Man.

Word Count: 1122 words

Captian America: Civil War

Chapter Two

Mr. Stark walked over to Peter's desk. "Whoa, what have we here? Retro tech, huh?" He said. "Peter's a nerd," I said. "Hey! I am not," he said pushing me a little. "Thrifty store? Salvation army?" Stark asked Peter. "Uh, the garbage, actually," Peter said. "You're a dumpster diver?" Mr. Stark asked bluntly. "Yeah, I was... anyway, look, um, I did not apply for your grant and either did y/n..." Peter said but was cut off. "Ah-ah! Me first," Mr. Stark said loudly. "Okay," Peter said.

"Quick question of the rhetorical variety," Stark said holding his phone up. A screen projected from it showing Peter or "Spider-Man swinging by a guy on his webs. "That's you, right?" He asked. "Um. No. What do you... what do you mean?" Petet stammered. "Yeah," Stark said flipping his phone as another video came up. "Look at you go," he said. "Wow! Nice catch. 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's no easy. You got mad skills," Mr. Stark said and brought up another video. "And this... this is both of you," he said. The video showing Peter and I swinging together the day he was showing me how the web-shooters worked just in case I changed my mind.

Peter had his stupid suit he made on and I have black leggings and a tight long sleeve black shirt with my hair up in a ponytail and a simple black mask that went over my eyes. I had my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist while his one arm was securely around my waist. He had been talking to me and explaining everything step by step. I squinted at the stilled frame and shook my head. "Nope. That... that is not me," I said and looked at Mr. Stark. "Really? And I guess this isn't either?" He asked showing another video of me swinging by myself. I shook my head "nope. Nope, definitely not me," I said.

"That's... that's all you YouTube, though, right? That's where you found that? Because you know that's all fake. It's all done on the computer," Peter jumped in. "Mmm-hmm," Stark hummed. "It's like that video. What it is?" Peter said looking at the projected screen in front of us as Stark looked around. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?" Stark said as he took a broom handle and pushed open the crawl space door on the ceiling. Peter's suit falling out on a rope. "Oh, what has me here?" He said. Peter jumped in front of him and grabbed him. Turning his back he shoved it into his closet.

"Uh..." Peter let out leaning on the wall nodding his head. I sat on his bed and flopped back laying down. "Awkward," I said and Peter glared at me. Mr. Stark walked over to him. "So. You're the Spider-ling. Crime-fighting spider. You're Spider-Boy? And you're what? Spider-Girl?" He asked. "No. I'm y/n," I said and rolled my eyes. "Spider-Man," Peter said crossing his arms. "Not in that onesie, you're not," Stark said. "Ha!" I snorted out laughing at that. "It's not a onesie," Peter said and walked over to pick the broom handle up. "I don't believe this. I was actually having a really good day today, Mr. Stark. We didn't miss put train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there... and Algebra test, nailed it," Peter said now standing by his desk. "I'm pretty sure I failed it," I said sitting up.

"Who else knows? Anybody?" Mr. Stark asked. I and Peter shook our heads. "Nobody," we both said. "Not even your unusually attractive aunt?" Stark asked. "No. No. No! If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out," Peter said. "That's true he does," I said looking at Mr. Stark who was sitting on the end of the bed in a chair. "You know what I think is really cool? This webbing," Mr. Stark said and threw the little thing he had the webbing at Peter who caught it without looking. "That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?" Stark asked.

"Peter did," I said. Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows as he looked over the suit. "Climbing walls, how you doing that? Adhesive gloves?" He asked. "It's a long story. I was..." Peter started but stopped cut off by Stark. "Lordy! Can you even see in these?" He asked holding the goggles up to his face that were attached to the suit. I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh as Peter glared at me. "Yes. Yes. I can," Peter said taking it away from him and putting this in the small closest. "I can see in those. Okay? It's just that when whatever happened, happened... It's like our senses dialed to 11. There's way too much input, so they kinda help me focus," Peter said.

"You're in dire need of an upgrade. You too," Stark said looking at me. "What? No!" I said but he ignored me. "Systemic, top to bottom, hundred-point restoration. That's why I'm here," he said and leaned against the wall. Peter sat beside me on the bed. "Why are doing this? I gotta know, what's your MO? What gets you outta that twin bed in the morning?" Stark asked. "Me. I get him outta bed," I said. "And you, why don't you do what he's doing? Why are you Spider-Girl?" He asked.

Peter looked at me and looked back at Mr. Stark. "Because..." he stammered a little. "Because I've been me my whole life, and we have had these powers for 6 months. I read books, I build computers. Yeah, I would love to play football, but I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now," Peter said. I forward my eyebrows he never told me exactly why he was doing what he was. "Sure, because you're different," Stark said. "Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not," Peter said. Stark looked at me then and raised his eyebrows. I sighed knowing I wasn't getting around this at all and I was going to have to explain why I wasn't out there with Peter in so ridiculous suit fighting crime.

"I'm not a genius like Peter is. I can barely pass my classes. I wouldn't be passing them if it wasn't for him. I'm more street smart and I'm artsier than him. I take pictures and draw and I don't draw pretty things, I draw dark messed up things. Peter follows the rules and I don't. So what business do I have out there saving people's lives?" I said looking down at my hands.

[darling-i-read-it]

General Kenobi

Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, curse words I think, age gap (reader is legal)

Author’s Note: Hello there, I just started writing this and then it kept going and I just kept writing so here is this long af story that I literally just went crazy for 2 thousand and 4 hundred words but its what you deserve. This is also the first thing I wrote in 2020, I love that.

Requested: by @daphne-fandom-writing ,My dear friend (that I've met not a week ago) hello (there). You know I adore your writing. I also think you do age gaps better than I ever could. So I'm gonna request an Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader age gap smut if you're up for it😇

Summary: the request

Genre: smut, fluff at the end

Song:

(not my gif)

Beside the point that Obi-Wan wasn’t supposed to have romantic feelings for anyone, he was surely not supposed to have romantic feelings for his padawans friend who was quite a few years his junior. Alas however, that was what his heart now desired and every time you came around to see Anakin his heart stopped for a moment.

You were intelligent and if he was saying so, more compatible with him than Anakin was. He found you were always on the same wavelength about things, Jedi training wise along with just random stuff that came up in conversation. You were still a Jedi in training and he promised himself he would do nothing to sabotage your dreams of climbing up the ranks.

Still though, he couldn’t deny his feelings for you. Well he could but it was getting harder by the day. The more he saw you the more difficult it got.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve asked Y/N to join us today Master, her teacher is out on a mission that she couldn’t come to,” Anakin said as they stood in the elevator going down to the training rooms. Obi-Wan nearly choked on his saliva. It took him a moment to answer his padawan.

“That's fine,” was all he managed out.

Anakin was well aware of his Masters growing feelings for you and because he was so inthralld in Padme he figured it might be good for Obi-Wan. Not to mention he was also able to catch the way that you looked at him. You were both so intensely into each other sometimes Anakin felt like he was being inappropriate when he was in the room with you two.

The tension was unbearable. He hoped he wasn’t so obvious with Padme.

The two of them walked down the hall to the regular large room they trained at. You sat on one of the training mats, messing with your lightsaber, watching the blue move back and forth in front of you. At the sight of the two boys you stopped, smiling and putting your lightsaber down.

“Anakin!” you said, walking over and giving him a brief hug. It the best way to have an excuse to touch Obi-Wan if you hugged Anakin first.

“Obi-Wan, thank you so much for allowing me to join you today,” you said with a small smile and gave him a brief hug. Anakin rolled his eyes at his Masters flustered ways when he hugged you back.

“Of course, it's always a pleasure to have someone who listens to me at these sessions,” he joked, a charming smile on his face. Anakin moved across the room to the other side and sat on one of the mats while the two of you flirted for a moment.

The session went on for a long while of Obi-Wan just showing you and Anakin the few movements that you needed fixing in your stance and then you practiced together. You beat Anakin more times than he beat you but he was also tired and you were also trying to show off. There was a mutual agreement there that went unspoken.

“Anakin you need to plant your feet before making that swing, it opens your side for an attack,” Obi-Wan told him sternly. You stood back and put your lightsaber in the hilt, seeing from the clock that the session was to be over soon.

“Well than you fight her Master,” Anakin huffed, tired of having to be in the middle of the tension but also hoping it was the day the two of you would get together. A blush formed on Obi-Wan's face that was subtle but there.

“That's hardly appro-”

“Oh come on Obi-Wan. Don’t think you can handle it old man?” you teased and he raised an eyebrow. He knew you were trying to agitate him and it was working well. Anakin smiled at your words and moved off the mat.

“Well if you say it like that.” Obi-Wan brought out his lightsaber and the blue light rivaled your own, the soft hum able to over take your light nervous breathing.

“Don’t go easy on me sweetheart,” you teased. A charming smirk came over his face and he pounced where you deflected, on the defensive immediately. Anakin put his head in his palm as he sat on the floor, watching the two of you. You both moved with an easy grace against one another. Your lightsabers caught each other in front of you and you tried not to look at him through the blue glow in front of you two. Eventually you raised your arm, catching him in a weak spot while he looked at your face. You both stumbled away from one another, shaken by the force behind one anothers blow.

“It's a draw. I have to go meet a Senator,” Anakin said, standing. You didn’t look at him, instead at your lightsaber in your hand that you had closed but was still slightly shaking from the force you and Obi-Wan had been fighting out.

“You’re very skillful Y/N,” Obi-Wan said, practically ignoring his own padawan as Anakin left the room. You chuckled and met his eyes.

“You aren’t all bad either General Kenobi.” Your voice drawled out unintentionally but seeing his eyebrow raise at you calling him General made you glad you did. You walked closer to him, boots hitting the floor lightly. You had never been alone in the room with him before.

“Just Obi-Wan is fine,” he said smoothly, practically fully masking his feelings at you being so close to him in a room alone. Boldly, you stepped forward again grabbing his lightsaber from the hilt on his hip. Your fingers brushed his side and while both of you pretending not to notice it was obvious you both felt it.

“I have a book that I was wondering if you could take back to the council for me. I’m busy this afternoon and I understand you have a meeting?” He nodded and took his lightsaber back from you. You whined a bit unintentionally.

“Of course. Do you have it with you?”

“It's back in my chambers. It will only be a minute I promise.” You stepped back and toward the door opening. He nodded, following you out. You walked side by side to your room.

When you got there and the door shut behind the two of you, you grabbed the book off of your nightstand and stared at it, unable to give it to him for a moment. He watched the gears turning in your head.

“What is it?” he asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on your arm. You turn your head to look at him, smiling a bit.

“I know Jedi aren’t supposed to have feelings for others but I’m a little distraught about that rule,” you say as though it was a joke but he could hear the seriousness in your voice. His heart dropped a bit, selfishly hoping you were talking about him but sure you were talking about Anakin,

“It's a hard rule to live by.” You hesitated.

“Have you ever ...had feelings for another Jedi?” He let go of your arm and tried to look natural.

“Yes,” he breathed. Your eyes widened and your heart strings tugged.

“Who?” you whispered. He shook his head but was unable to back away from you.

“I shouldn’t-”

“Obi-Wan please.” Your voice sounded so mature in that moment as you pleaded with him. Like you had grown so tired after years of living.

“You.” His voice was barely audible but you caught it because you were looking for it. He waited a moment to hear your rejection and when it didn’t come he was going to speak again but you were setting the book down on your nightstand. He opened his mouth to ask what you were doing but your lips crashed onto his and he promptly closed them, gripping your sides to steady the both of you.

You shoved him onto the bed with a hard force and he didn’t have time to make a snarky comment before your lips were back on his. You sat on top of him, hands running through his hair as you kissed him roughly. You pulled away to look at him and make sure he was alright, that you weren’t doing anything he didn’t want.

“Oh don’t stop now,” he muttered with a snarky smile. You rolled your eyes and worked on his complicated outfit and getting it off, desperate to find more skin. If you didn’t have one just like it would have taken forever.

You laughed a little as he grabbed your own robes and you were both frustrated in getting one another's clothes off.

“This is the reason Jedi shouldn’t have sex, these damn robes,” you joked and he sat up, you still sitting on top of him. He finally made a breakthrough and your were naked other than your bra and underwear. He undid your hairdo just by kissing you again and roaming his hands through your hair. You finally kicked his clothes off as well as he kissed you.

Feeling your hands on his body made him feel a fierce urgency he had never felt before. A sense of need, needing to be in you, needing to be one with you. Your lips moved down his neck and he undid your bra through a moan while you grind your hips against his crotch.

He was done waiting. He had waited so long for this moment, for sure nothing was going to happen. But here you were, on top of him, your lips leaving sloppy kisses on his bare skin. He would have thrown out his lightsaber and his Jedi status if it meant you would never stop.

“I need you General Kenobi,” you muttered as you pulled away from his neck. He made a noise that sounded like a moan just at your words.

“What are you doing to me,” he whispered and you smiled, pulling off him and sliding off your last bit of clothes. He shrugged off his as well and you connected your lips to his again hungrily. He took his hand and lined himself up with you and you slowly sat down on him. You gasped in unison to the feeling and you clung to each other, your hands gripped his built shoulders and his hands on yours lips, nails digging into your skin.

“Y/N,” he muttered and you nodded, moving up and down, creating a pace. You moved a hand up to move his hair out of his face and stared at him as you moved, him staring right back. You kissed him again briefly and then stuck your head in the crook of his neck. Neither of you lasted very long and you came together, shaking against one another.

After a moment you pulled off him and you both collapsed on the bed beside each other. He threw an arm around you and snuggled closer to him, despite both of you being sweaty and tired from training and sex.

You put an arm around his stomach and traced lines into his chest with your finger. There was a moment of content silence as you came down and processed what just happened.

“Should we have done that?” he whispered. You laughed lowly and looked up at him.

“Well we can’t take it back now.” He shrugged.

“I liked it. Very much,” he said chuckling. You laughed a bit too, finger going up to his chin and then back down to his chest.

“I like you very much.” He smiled dreamily.

“You don’t care I’m...older than you?” You rolled your eyes.

“Sweetheart that is the least of our problems,” you said with a smile. He nodded, understanding. He seemed calmer now that he knew how you felt. Now that he had you in his arms.

“We can make it work.”

“Oh yes we can.” You sat up, looking down at him. He propped himself up with his elbow. “And you know what, I may be training with you and Anakin more. My Master is supposed to be gone for a few months. Very important mission.” He looked at you for a moment and then you smiled sneakily. “You did that. Oh my Maker, you sent her on a mission!” you said laughing. He shrugged.

“I didn’t know we would end up here but in hindsight I sure hoped we would.” You got up and grabbed his robe, putting it over your bare body. It was big on you, the sleeves falling over your fingers.

“You have a council meeting and I will be here when you return. I’ve stolen your robe so you have to come back.” You threw him his other clothes and he started to put them back on.

“I would have come back either way. You’re officially stuck to my side.” You smiled and handed him your book.

“Oh darn what am I gonna do?” you teased. He kissed you softly when he was fully clothed and you melted into his lips, cursing when he pulled away.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispered dreamily.

“Later General Kenobi.” He gave you a look and then the door clicked behind him. He walked down the hall a ways and didn’t even notice when he ran into Anakin. His padawan held up his hands to steady Obi-Wan.

“Focus on your surroundings Master,” he joked as Obi-Wan regained his composure.

“Thank you Anakin,” he said snarkily. Anakin was about to walk away when he caught a mark on his Masters neck that made him pause. He lifted up his hand and touched it, making Obi-Wan pull away, annoyed.

“Maker, you and Y/N-”

“Anakin Skywalker I will-”

“Well at least cover it. Where's your robe?” Obi-Wan didn’t meet Anakin's eyes, cursing himself for being so sloppy. He had just been so caught up in the moment. Anakin laughed, taking off his robe and handing it to Obi-Wan who took it with a sour look.

“Thank you,” he stammered. Anakin smiled.

“Anytime.”

[lousimusician]

Sex Pollen Part 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: You and Peter decide to break into your dad's lab when Peter comes across an interesting plant.

A/N: This is me aggressively ignoring the events of endgame by writing something with Peter. Also I think that movie fixed my writers block because I've been writing nonstop this whole week.

Warning: Language, smuttyish(kinda)

[Peter and the Reader are both 18]

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

Peter quietly observed you while you were hunched over your desk in the corner of your room, playing around with a piece of technology you stole from your dad.

Peter was currently on the ceiling, looking down at you. He was incredibly bored and as much as he loved to just admire you while you concentrated, he couldn't stand the silence that came with it.

He watched as you quietly got frustrated and leaned back in your chair, head back and eyes closed. Peter took this as his que and slowly lowered himself, upside down from the ceiling by a web. He stopped once his face was leveled to yours. He watched as you took in calming breaths, and the little furrow in your eyebrows form, telling him that you were thinking.

To say he was completely and utterly crazy for you was an understatement. Peter was head over heels for you and was pretty sure he'd die for you if it came down to it.

He felt his cheeks redden as he realized he may have been gazing for a little too long and realizing how creepy that was, decided to break the silence by saying, "I'm bored."

Your eyes shot open as you sat up quickly, banging your head against Peter's. "Oww." You whined. You pushed your chair back, putting some distance between the two of you so you could see him better. "Peter! Don't scare me like that."

Peter smiled sheepishly, rubbing the spot on his forehead that you bumped. "Sorry but, I'm bored." He said again.

You shook your head, fighting the smile that tugged on your lips. "Then go do something."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, be Spider-Man. I'm sure there's someone that needs to be saved." You said, maneuvering around him, to pick up the tech you were playing with. "How do you do that?" You said, referencing his position, "Doesn't all the blood rush to your head?"

"No." He said simply. "I don't wanna go out. I want to hang out with you."

"Aren't you literally doing that right now though." You smirked. As you admired the wiring you were staring at. 

"Ha ha ha." He said sarcastically. "I mean, I want to do something fun."

You looked into his puppy dog eyes and immediately found yourself giving in. "Fine," you sighed. "How 'bout a movie?"

"I dunno, we always watch movies."

"Okay then do you wanna go out or something?"

"No." He said shaking his head. "Whenever we go out together you get too much attention."

You paused. "...Well, my dad has been working on a new suit for you, if you wanna check it out."

"Wait really!?" Peter suddenly exclaimed, jumping up, which caused him to fall down on the ground, making you laugh loudly. "Shut up." He grumbled.

"Anyway, how does sneaking into Tony Stark's lab sound?"

"It sounds great, let's go!" He said, excitedly jumping up and grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him.

~~~~~~

While the two of you were scheming on how to break in. Bruce Banner had currently been the only occupant of the lab.

He stood with a gas mask on his face as he studied a plant in front of him.

A week ago, the Avengers had gone on a mission after a few aliens landed on earth and claimed they wanted to "Take over the planet". It had been pathetic really, the aliens were wiped out in half an hour.

But while on this mission, after Hulk had finished "smashing" the last of the aliens, he had reverted back to himself. Finding that Hulk had taken him onto one of the alien ships.

Bruce looked around at the strange tech, while he stood up, already heading for the exit. That was until something had caught his eye and started to draw him in like a moth to a flame. 

It had been a plant.

It stood tall, about seven feet in height. It was absolutley beautiful. It had pink flowers that mimicked the shape of a heart and it was quite literally glowing.

Bruce touched the plant, his fingers coming back covered in a pink dust, which he naturally assumed was the flowers pollen. He leaned in, realizing it smelled familiar.

But the strangest thing happened after.

His heart started to practically beat out of his chest and before he knew it Hulk had come back.

Once he had calmed down and turned back into himself an idea struck him. He quickly plucked a flower off the plant and stuck it in a box that he found in the corner of the ship.

Not a single Avenger questioned why he now carried a box with him on the ride home.

And now a week later, Bruce stood in front of the plant which had grown two feet after it had been replanted, running tests on what exactly it could be.

"Ah Banner." Thor's booming voice sounded, as he stepped into the lab. "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to-" Thor stopped, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked at the plant that sat in front of Bruce. "Why do you have that plant?" He asked genuinely curious.

Bruce looked up at Thor, surprise written all over his face. "Wait, you know what this is?" He said, voice muffled by the mask. He stepped around the table to approach Thor.

"Of course." Thor said, mildly offended. "Where did you get this?"

"Found it after the mission last Friday. It made me turn into Hulk, so I figured it could be useful if Hulk ever chickens out on me again." Bruce quickly explained. "What kind of plant is it?"

"It's called a Sex Pollen Plant." Thor said, stepping around Bruce to approach the plant. "It belongs to that specific race of aliens we fought. The plant helps the aliens to breed since they find it very difficult on their own."

Bruce scrunched his face in shock. "What does it do?"

"The pollen arouses the alien that breathes in the pollen- that may be why you turned into the Hulk, it raised your heart rate. I'm immune to it of course."

"Wait- I brought a sex plant into the compound." Bruce asked in shock, utterly horrified of his own judgement on the situation.

"Yes and I suggest you get rid of it. I have heard the affects of the pollen on a human could be very severe."

"H-how do I get rid of it?"

"Hm, I suppose I'll do it then. How have you been able to contain it?"

"I had this box I took from the alien ship, but it's too big now, so I've been putting it in one of the quarantine rooms just in case."

"Alright, come with me. I may have something that can help dispose of it safely." 

"Okay, let me just lock up the lab." Bruce said.

The two of them stepped out of the room and Bruce pulled off his gas mask once the lab was locked.

Thor and Bruce headed towards the elevator, walking through the living room where the two spotted you and Peter sprawled out on the couches. They shot you two a greeting before leaving.

Peter's head snapped towards you. "I can't believe sending in Thor actually worked. Do you think either of them know what we're planning?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, I was too vague when I told Thor to get him out of the lab, and I love the guy but he isn't exactly the smartest person I've met. Now let's go, I don't know how long we've got." You said, trailing ahead of him.

You easily unlocked the lab, Peter following behind you.

As usual the lab was filled with tables with piles upon piles of weird tech, ranging from projects your dad or Bruce had been working on to discarded scraps that should've been tossed or moved out.

You immediately got distracted from the task at hand when you spotted one of your father's latest projects, "Alright, go find your suit." You muttered, walking towards the table.

Peter looked around the lab, trying to find some sign of the new suit he'd hopefully be getting soon. But to be honest, it was a bit of a wreck. With two scientsist's working there, the lab got a bit messy. So instead of Peter being able to locate the suit, which actually was placed nicely in the back of the room, his eye was drawn towards something else.

And it was beautiful, and definitely something he's never seen before.

Off to the side was a plant that had stood at two feet. Pink and glowing. And it was as if he couldn't control his movements while he walked towards the plant.

Now standing in front of it, his finger traced the petals of the glowing flowers, making his index finger come back with a pink dust on it, which he could only assume was its pollen.

He leaned in, breathing in it's scent.

He expected a normal flowery smell but, instead it smelled like you.

He pulled away for a second, and narrowed his eyes at the plant in confusion. But only for a few seconds, before being compelled to smell it once again.

Peter's eyes fell closed as he let the scent dance around him. There was no other way to describe it other than it being completely you.

Sweet and calming. It smelled like lavender and jasmine, with a hint of peaches, your perfume, your body wash, your shampoo, and that very specific scent that belonged to you and only you.

Peter was completely lost in it, breathing in deeply, treating it as if it was a drug he could never get enough of. The different layers of your scent completely engulfing him, making him feel warm and content.

His chest blossomed with warmth that spread down all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and to the very crown of his head, that made his whole body feel like it was buzzing.

But he snapped out of the trance he was in when he felt a rush of blood travelling south. He tensed up, quickly turning around to see if you were still distracted.

He turned back around and backed away from the plant. And that was when he had noticed his spider senses had been going haywire. The hair on his arms standing up straight as goose bumps rose.

And whatever the plant had did to him was getting worse.

He felt warm, too warm. Like he'd start to melt soon.  

He leaned on the table behind him, panting. A flood of arousal coursing through him. 

From the end of the lab you heard Peter's panting breaths, causing you to look up and see his hunched over form leaning on the table behind him, sliding onto the ground.

"Peter?" You asked in concern. "You okay?"

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his eyes shut tight, trying to gain control of himself. But it wasn't working, inappropriate thoughts flooded his mind immediately wandering to what you would sound like letting out high pitched whines and moans of his name with that same voice, while he bent you over one of the tables and pounded into you hard.

He moaned at the thought, your eyes widening in shock at the sound not quite sure if he was in pain.... or if it was something else.

You stared at what was in front of him on the table, and knew whatever it was was the cause of Peter's state right now.

You quickly ran over, crouching down next to him.

You gasped, "Oh my God." His face was bright red as a thin layer of sweat collected on his skin. He was out of breath, eyes screwed tightly shut. But what caused your own face to turn red was the very prominent buldge in his pants. You cleared your throat. "Peter can you hear me?"

He slowly opened his eyes but immediately wished he hadn't, his pupils blown wide at the sight of you. Eyes trailing over every bit of exposed skin on your body, just picturing what it would feel like pressed against his own.

"(Y-Y/N)." He stuttered out a whine. "I-I-...S-something's...happening."

"Oh, shit." You cursed.

Peter wanted nothing more in that moment to pull you down into a kiss and pin you to the floor, grinding his hips into yours, but he still had enough mind to know how wrong that would be.

"Okay, alright, okay. This is what I'm gonna do." You said frantically. "I need to find Bruce-"

"No... d-don't go.." He didn't know why but he knew that if you left, it would only get worse. That even just your presence made him feel a little better and that he might just go insane if you left him. "Please... s-stay.."

It was too overwhelming, instead of his senses being dialled to 11 it felt like they were at a fucking 20 now. Hyperaware of you and only you, every movement, every breath, the beating of your heart, everything.

"What? B-but Pete-"

A gasp cut you off. Your head snapped towards the doorway, where Thor and Bruce stood.

"Thor, the kids got in." Bruce said in terror.

"B-Bruce!" You yelled in relief. "I- I don't know what's wrong with him- he just sorta collapsed, and he's acting really strange."

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, this isn't good." Bruce said rushing over to Peter. "Thor how do we fix this."

Thor looked down at him in pity, standing next to Bruce who was crouching on the opposite side of where you were. "The only known cure for someone who has been contaminated by a sex pollen plant is, well..sex."

Your head snapped towards Thor. "W-What?" You shrieked. "Is that what that thing is?" You started yelling angrily.

"Yes, and it must be with whoever's scent he smelled on the plant."

"Oh for fuck's sake, who brought a sex plant into the tower!"

"F-fuck, (Y/N)." Peter moaned loudly, eyes training on your figure. Getting more aroused at just how fucking hot you looked when you were mad. 

"Ah," Thor said, coming to a conclusion. "And it would seem that it would be you Lady (Y/N)."

You cleared your throat, opting to ignore Thor's last comment. "Okay what are we gonna do?" 

Thor looked at you in surprise, "Lady (Y/N) do you not know what sex entail-"

"Shut up Thor. I know how it works- but there's gotta be another way to help him." You gulped, looking down at him.

Bruce sighed, "I think- I think I'm gonna have to tell your dad. I'm pretty sure this isn't something I can fix in an hour by myself."

You huffed. "Fine, but we can't leave him here. Let's take him to his room."

You reached out and grabbed his arm, but at the loud moan he made due to the skin to skin contact you let go.

"I probably should have mentioned." Thor started. "That you shouldn't touch him."

"W-what? Why?"

"(Y/N) Please." Peter whined, trying to grab your wrist but you quickly pulled it out of reach.

You looked up at Thor. "It'll make him," Thor paused searching for the right word. "Eager? And you don't want that if you plan on looking for another cure- see he's trying to touch you now." 

Thor was right, just that small bit of skin to skin contact seemed to have sent Peter into a frenzy. Your head snapped down at him, as you realized he was just about to put his hand up your skirt. You quickly grabbed his hand, holding it in a tight grip so he'd stop getting handsy. Your other hand quickly grabbing his free one too as it came nearer.

"Fine, then Thor take him to his room."

"N-no." Peter stuttered. "Please, I-I need you." He said as Thor picked him up, making you let go of the hold on his hands. "No! Let go!" He yelled at Thor. "(Y/N)!"

Thor headed for the door while Peter began struggling violently in his hold.

Bruce shook his head. "Tony is not gonna like this."

You scoffed. "Y' think?"

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

Permanent Taglist:

@Spiderdudeparker @peterparkers-waffles @smexylemony @Ultimategalaxyprogram @xxxxdelenaxxxx @chonisberonica @meaningoflifeisfandoms @aegis-s-s @Just-random-stuff-18 @etherealhollandd @yourwonderbelle @roi-yang @ironspiderstark @runningoutofwordstosay @retroparkers @marvelismylifffe @marvelhoeingismyhobby @thebadtruth @loud-binch @cosmicparkerr @thechickvic @magiclolipopqueen @httpmcrvel

P.P. Taglist:

@cosmicparkerr

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 12

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 12)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: While the assassin makes another attempt on Roman's life, the necromancers find help from an unexpected source--and an all too brief reunion between Logan and Roman has some disturbing results.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: None really, not this time.

Told you this one would come faster. XD It's bigger than most, because the next one is gonna be a whopper--and also, the next installment will be the last! But fear not: I'm already planning a sequel.

...and tbh, I can't stop writing these adorable jerks so you'll get lots more stories outta me. :P

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1022, A.A.

“Pass the glue?”

Logan blinked, slowly looking up from his jacket to gradually focus on Roman's face. Watching him rise from something that had swallowed his whole attention was hopelessly adorable—a thing he could never tell Logan to his face, but could never hide the smile that crept across his face when he watched Logan surface like a pearl diver.

He saw the moment Logan's face shifted, the moment he finally returned to reality. Scanning the craft supplies scattered on the riverbank around them, he located the glue pot and passed it to Roman with a curious frown.

“What are you gluing?” he asked.

Roman held up the white mask he'd selected to go with his costume for the final night of the Festival that Logan had invited him to.

“Feathers! I want to be one of those things you showed me in the graveyard—the creatures etched on the one tombstone?”

“Angels.” Logan reminded him. “You know their wings go on their back, not their face.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I know that, Starlight. I can't exactly get a pair of wings for my costume on such short notice, though, so I...Logan?”

Roman set his mask down, scooting closer to the other boy with a cold lick of concern in his belly. Logan was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm, and his face had gone completely ashen.

“What's wrong?” Roman asked, reaching for his hand. “Logan, are you all right?”

Logan blinked, drawing a trembling breath before briskly shaking his head as if to clear it.

“I—yes, I am fine. I just...” He trailed off, and that look was on Roman again.

“Why did you call me Starlight?”

Roman couldn't stop himself from frowning, confused. Gesturing to the jacket in Logan's lap, he shrugged.

“The beads you're sewing onto it—it looks like the night sky. It's—it's just a nickname, like Specs. I won't use it anymore if it bothers you.”

“No,” Logan insisted, “it is perfectly acceptable, it's just...it surprised me, that's all. Starlight is actually the name I use for the Festival. As I told you, we forsake our identities at the celebration, so we all use different names. Mine is—is Starlight.”

Roman watched Logan blink, and would have accused Logan of lying except that Logan never lied. He took things too literally, he was just...not the kind of person who did it. Not with Roman, at least. So if he said he was fine...

So why did he look like his whole world had been shaken?

“...Muse.” Roman spoke before he could think about it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Muse.” he repeated, feeling confident about the decision. “That'll be my name for the evening. Muse.”

Logan just stared at him for a long moment before huffing, shaking his head as he scooted across the grass until he was leaning against Roman's side, shoulder pressed to Roman's arm.

“You're not required to do it. You're not part of the tribe.” Logan pointed out.

“It's your tribe, though—and I don't want to be disrespectful.” Roman insisted, reaching for the bag of feathers Logan had brought for their costume work. “Besides, I...I like it. I understand it. It's all to make the dead feel less alone, isn't it? I want to help.”

Roman focused very hard on picking the feathers he wanted to glue to his mask...and tried not to pay attention to the way Logan's head tipped to rest against his shoulder and just stayed that way for a very long time.

**********

1033, A.A.

“So that's how you did it—this is a problem.”

Roman blinked, shaking his head. He hadn't lost consciousness, he was certain of it.

...well, relatively certain.

Glancing around, Roman realized he was in his father's bedchamber, held fast by a palace guard on either side. He tried to tug free, but they held him fast, staring straight ahead with glassy, unfocused eyes and blank expressions.

“Don't bother—I've been rotating soldiers through dungeon detail for years. Nearly all of them are mine now.”

Roman's chest seized with cold, cloying horror and disbelief. He could feel warmth in the hands that held him, see their chests rising and falling with breath...

He turned to the man standing before him—salt and pepper hair and overly tanned features, with piercing blue eyes Roman was starting to realize he should have known on sight.

Colonel Mori—if only he'd remembered before this moment...

“The same curse you used on my father, I take it?” he asked, proud of how level his voice came out, clear and firm.

“Something like that.” Mori replied, idly tossing a familiar ring into the air, catching it, and repeating the action with casual thoughtlessness. “It's always been a specialty of mine—generational curses. You only have to curse a single man, and an entire bloodline or brotherhood will fall...would, at least,

if not for you and that idiot progeny of mine.”

Roman wasn't aware that he'd lunged until he had one guard's arm around his throat to hold him back. He'd actually slipped free, and found it hard to breathe until he consciously stopped trying to wrestle free of his captors.

“Logan is not an idiot.” he snarled. “He's stronger than all of us—he's the best man I have ever known.”

And just like that, he was aware of all the memories that infernal talisman had been holding back—the stolen moments, the beauty of learning new things about Logan's people...the purity of that young love that had been stolen from him.

He thought of Logan now, that lean and handsome face hardened by ten years of imprisonment...and how it opened up to him the night before, how Logan tucked against him in his sleep and clung to every touch like it would be taken away from him, just as he had when they first met...

Mori's hands were suddenly on him, gripping his chin and yanking his hair until Roman was staring directly into his eyes.

“Logan Crofter is a good man—and that is his downfall.” Mori spat as his eyes began to glow with an unholy orange light. “Good men have too many rules and too many weaknesses.”

Roman tried to shake his head, but couldn't fend off the impossible grip of the necromancer before him, the light of his gaze causing a slow, dull throb through his skull.

“Decent men have rules to keep them decent. Evil men like you have rules so they can revel in breaking them.” Roman replied flatly. “Good men don't need rules. They simply choose and act.”

The pain in his head grew, forcing Roman to close his eyes—but the light was still there, behind his lids and in his brain, turning the dull throb into a burn.

“So I'm looking forward, Colonel, to watching you face a good man with no rules—and nothing to lose.”

Mori's laughter was grating in his ears as Roman slowly began to lose the ability to think coherently.

“He has one thing, Your Highness...he has you. And I'm going to make sure he comes to find you so I can get what I want: the soul of another Lazari.”

There was some shuffling, a voice—and Roman's blood ran cold as he hung helpless in the grip of a guard and lost his hold on reality.

“Remy Somnum! Bring me Lord Janus. It's high time I added his life to my collection.”

“Yes, Master.”

********** 1023, A.A.

“You're certain this is where it is?”

Roman nodded as he finally opened the padlock on the door of the long abandoned storeroom, deeep in the bowels of the palace dungeons. “The locator spell Remus gave me works. He knows more about magic than half the court mages, even if he can't use it.”

“Picking locks as well.” Logan observed with a raised eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder at Logan, Roman just grinned at his expression.

“Remus didn't teach me that.” he declared, pushing the door open and ushering Logan in ahead of him. “If I'm going to be king one day, I shan't rely on anyone else to rescue me—what if I have to break free of some prison or shackles?”

Logan stepped into the room ahead of him, but immediately stopped and turned to face him, looking at Roman with blue eyes that glittered with something Roman couldn't name, something that made it hard to breathe.

It happened so fast he almost couldn't process it—Logan's hands in his tunic, the sudden feel of warmth crowding his front...

The soft, firm, smacking press of a kiss to his mouth that made his heart, and the rest of the world, stop.

For long moments, they just stared at each other, Logan seemingly reeling as much as Logan was.

“I...I am—I'm—apologies.” Logan stammered, trying to busy himself with straightening his tie instead of holding onto Roman's tunic. “I did not mean...that is to say—I just—your intellectual moments, they just—you're so—and I--”

Roman snatched up Logan's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He could feel Logan trembling, and Roman felt his heart tremble in sync with it.

“Me, too, Starlight.”

For a second they just stood there, Logan's hand in his, and Roman's heart...

He had never, not once in his short fourteen years of life, ever felt so tranquil or so powerful, and definitely not both at the same time.

Roman forced himself to be the strong one, releasing Logan's hand so he could shut the door and finally take proper stock of the room.

There was barely any light through the bars on the small window in the door, but Logan moved forward with purpose, locating a torch and lighting it with some spell Roman didn't recognize—one that ignited a dazzling blue-white flame that was far clearer and brighter than the golden flicker of normal torchlight.

The layer of dust covering everything in the room was so thick Roman could feel the urge to cough bubbling in his throat just from breathing the air. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and could have made it easy to mistake the space for a library save for the fact that there were very few books on any of those shelves.

“It's like some kind of storeroom.” Logan observed. “That, or...perhaps a trophy room?”

“I told you,” Roman reminded him, “this palace is full of hidden nooks and crevices—places to hide, or to hide something you don't want anyone else to find. I hardly ever notice this door, but the locator spell sure did.”

“So...who does this belong to?” Logan wondered aloud, venturing over to one of the shelving units that had a few books scattered throughout. “And if these are trophies, what are they trophies of?”

Roman wondered the same thing, so intensely it took him a moment to realize Logan was no longer by his side. Shaking himself, Roman crossed the room carefully, painfully aware of the layer of dust his feet were disturbing as he came to stand beside Logan in front of the shelf. His eyes scanned over the objects and books displayed there until...

“Here!” he suddenly blurted, reaching up to pluck a book off the shelf. “This binding matches the Tomes in the palace library.”

Passing the small, leatherbound volume to Logan, he watched as Logan ran his fingers over the cover with a strangely thoughtful look, head cocked just slightly before he opened the volume.

“Is that it?” he asked hopefully. “The geneaology?”

Logan stared at the first page, shaking his head. “No...I mean, it is one of the Tomes, the one you likely said would have the magical bloodlines of the royal family, but—Roman, this was hidden for a reason. It's one of the Forbidden Tomes.”

“What?! Weren't those lost before the fall of the Animator?”

“Affirmative...this one, however, is quite new. Old still, mind you, but maybe two hundred years old at the most.” Logan looked up at Roman, eyes wide.

“I think this volume is a reconstruction.”

That rattled around in Roman's head, untethered and incomprehensible. “Who would be old enough to be able to rewrite one of the Forbidden Tomes? And how do you know how old this book is?”

Logan just stared at it...then flipped a couple of pages before going weirdly still.

“I can...it's an incorrect description, but I can hear it. The Tomes are written in mystical dialects, languages laden with power. My power.”

He lifted his head, meeting Roman's gaze head on with an intensity that stole Roman's breath.

“The mystical dialect this book was composed in is Mairome—the language of necromancy.”

Roman couldn't get his voice to work for a long moment as Logan turned back to the Tome and began reading, eyes flicking back and forth at a speed that was vaguely dizzying, trying to consume every nuance of the page, drinking it all in.

“What...what does it say?” he finally managed to ask aloud.

Logan didn't answer for a long moment. He shut the book gently, his gaze cast downwards.

“It says,” Logan finally answered, “that King Thomas Roman I is the name of the Animator.”

“...that can't be true. That...that means...”

“It means that the king did not slay the Animator—it means your ancestor assassinated the king. It means the Necromata have a legitimate claim to the throne.”

Roman ran his hands over his face, dizzy with the onslaught of information. “Who knew this that they had to take this book from the palace library and hide it here?”

“I think I know that, too.” Logan croaked, handing the book to Roman. “Start here—you should be able to read it.”

Roman accepted the book and peered at the page. Most of the text was a blurry mess of gently glowing lines and strange symbols, but some of the words were written in clear, plain English in various parts of the page.

When he was done, he passed the book back to Logan, reeling.

“Mori...I know that name.” Roman realized. “What are these?”

“They are the True Names of the monarchy.” Logan replied. “I know the name as well—it is the name of the man who tried to kill me when we first met.”

“...you never told me that.”

“I did not know his place among the palace guard—if he was someone close to you, I feared for your safety if he knew you were aware of his crimes.”

“Corporal Mori...he's a member of the dungeon guard.” Roman murmured. “My brother and I used to sneak into the dungeons to play at adventuring when we were little—he was a new private back then, and cruel to both of us. But...Logan?”

“Yes?”

“The name in there, below Thomas Roman I. Is that the Animator's son?”

Logan swallowed thickly. “It is.”

“But...but his True Name is Crofter...that's your last name.”

“Affirmative. At least...it was. Just as Mori's name was once Thomas Roman Sanders.”

Roman couldn't speak around the sudden tightness in his throat. Instead, Logan spoke for him.

“The Animator...he's not your ancestor, Roman—he's mine.”

Then the door of the storage room opened, slamming against the pile of detritus behind it.

Roman froze. Logan, however, snatched the book and rose.

“I'll lead him away—get back to your rooms at once, and look after Virgil.”

“Logan--”

He was cut off by another abrupt kiss, this one on the cheek.

“We'll get out of this, one way or another. I swear it on the Spider's Thread.”

Then Logan was gone, diving between the legs of the figure in the doorway to lead him away from Roman's location.

********** 1033, A.A.

“Paddock.”

Patton looked up from where he was crouched beside Logan's prone, writhing body. Logan's eyes had rolled back into his head and he was muttering incoherently while he twitched and twisted with an agony Patton could only guess at.

The voice that had spoken aloud belonged to a prison mage he recognized. The man was tall, dark, and tanned. He was handsome, mostly—he always wore dark glasses that hid his eyes, so it was difficult to be sure.

“What're you doing here, Somnum?” Remus asked sharply. He was awfully fast, next to Virgil one minute and the next standing beside Janus in front of Logan's prone form so Patton could only see Master Somnum through the space between their shoulders.

“Remy—the name's Remy, you fuckin' killjoys.” the mage sighed. “Will you just move already? Patton can vouch for me.”

“I can?” He asked uncertainly. Patton's nostrils flared on reflex, trying to scent the air—and immediately felt his magic rise, all animal instinct and threat.

The smell of death, old and ripe, was on the air. Not the smell of corpses or long settled dust, but death, fresh damp grave dirt and sticky in his lungs like worms crawling.

But...

Patton turned to Virgil, crouched beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil just looked at him, then at Remus and Remy, and nodded before focusing on his brother again.

Patton stood and came to stand next to Remus. He could feel more than hear the subsonic hiss building in the back of Janus's throat nearby, and found his gaze to reassure him before he faced the prison mage.

“He knows my True Name.” Patton admitted. “Janus can confirm it...but how?”

Remy didn't answer right away. He just stared at Patton, making him feel squirmy stomach and trembly. Breathing felt...not hard, but strange, and he wasn't sure if he liked it--

Reaching up, Remy removed his dark glasses.

“'Cause mine's Graymalkin.” he replied softly.

“What does that mean?” Virgil snapped testily. “Quoting Macbeth at each other won't--”

Patton didn't hear the rest. As far as he knew, Black Dogs and Heralds couldn't fly, but he couldn't feel the floor under his feet anymore...

...oh. Oh, he couldn't feel any of his legs anymore. The world was spinning, too—kind of like playing Statue Maker as a boy, grabbing his friends' hands and spinning, spinning, spinning before he had to stop and strike a pose--

“Patton.”

Patton blinked, and suddenly drew a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs before he started coughing. He—oh, he hadn't been breathing. That wasn't remotely good, willikers!

As he tried to get his breathing normalized, Patton found he was on the floor, being cradled in Janus's arms. His forehead was tucked against the scaled side of his neck, a lovely contrast of cool scales over warm skin and so much softer than anyone would think scales could be. As Patton calmed, he drifted, and gently rubbed his forehead against those scales, sighing at the soothing texture of their satiny surface brushing his skin, the edges gently catching in ways that sent pleasant little buzzes of sensation  from his forehead to skitter over his scalp.

Finally, he lifted his head—and found Remy kneeling in front of them, staring at Patton.

His eyes were pure onyx, from sclera to pupil—solid black orbs in his head, barely glinting in the light of the room. They were the eyes of a hijacked body, a resurrection gone wrong. The owner of the body was gone, and another soul had taken its place.

A soul Patton was fairly certain he knew.

“Patton?” Janus's voice, a question.

Slowly, Patton nodded.

Remy sagged visibly in relief. “You remember...Paddy, I'm a Reaper. I can help Logan. Will you let me?”

Feeling more like himself, Patton nodded again. Without thinking, he twisted and tipped his head up to kiss Janus's cheek before he got shakily to his feet.

“Virgil, Remy's gonna help.” he announced, still watching Remy with a secret fear that this would be a dream and that he'd vanish.

“Fuck you. I don't--”

“He's my brother. Please, Virge.”

There was silence for several moments, but then Remy was moving off some indication from Virgil, and Patton twisted to watch Remy drop to his knees at Logan's side. He touched his forehead, taking his hand and watching him closely.

“Motherfucker knows the only real way to kill a Lazari, and he's using the king to do it.” Remy muttered. “Let's see...nerd's Claim is holding, that's good, but his mind won't hold up under the Baccanal...lemme see, gurl...”

Remy shut his eyes, bowing his head. As he did, Patton suddenly felt a gust of warm air touching the back of his neck, making him flinch and whip his head around.

“Easy, Sin-ammon Roll.”

Prince Remus was there, his hand a buzzing gnat in Patton's awareness as it sat on his shoulder. He was watching Patton with a look he couldn't read—his features were like Janus's, well schooled into calm lines, but his eyes were clouded with some very turbulent emotion.

“Is the prison mage really your brother?”

Patton opened his mouth to answer, but no sound was coming out. The words were all there, but they were sort of...clogging in his throat, too many coming too fast, all fighting to escape at the same time. Fortunately, Janus's arms were suddenly there again, wrapped around his waist, cradling Patton back against his chest, warm warm warm and comforting in their familiarity.

“Patton was four years old when his brother died.” Janus stepped in. “Remington Morell was not quite fourteen—essentially executed in the street. Patton told me when they were children...their mother loved the Scottish play. Quoted it all the time--'I come, Graymalkin' when Remy called for her, 'Paddock calls' when Patton would cry.”

“...but the kid died.”

“Yes, but...it's the black eyes. They indicate the presence of a Raptor.”

“Like the dinosaur?” Remus asked.

“Like a body thief—a soul that hijacks a coprse during a botched resurrection.” Janus sighed, rolling his eyes as Patton twisted his head to look up at him.

“Ohhhh, I mean—wow.”

“Lucky for me, children age in Shadow.” Remy's voice piped up. Refocusing on Logan, Patton realized his best friend wasn't writhing and muttering anymore, just...laying there, asleep. Seemingly, anyway.

“What'd you do?” he asked, gently removing himself from the circle of Janus's arms to move towards Remy as he stood.

“Guided Logan to the Loom of Memory.” he replied. “It'll protect him for a while, and let him communicate with Roman if I'm right about how those two are bound—Mori's got the king under the Baccanal.”

“Cursing him with madness?” Patton breathed, his stomach churning with horror as he covered his mouth with both hands. “That's forbidden, Remoo.”

“Yeah, well, the Animator ain't known for playing by the rules, gurl.” Remy replied with a shrug. “So burning away a man's mind, one layer at a time until he's a drooling vegetable? Totally on the table.”

Patton felt something loosen in his chest as he grinned up at the other man. “You really are Remy, aren't you?”

Remy opened his mouth, brow furrowed with confusion—then understanding filled his features and he grinned, laughing. “Ah, geez—Remoo. You started calling me that when you were two 'cause you couldn't say Remington.”

“It's the only thing I remember really well.” Patton admitted, rushing forward to fling his arms around Remy with a choked laugh that quickly melted to tears.

“Mom and Pop kept your Vigil every Festival—but I never stopped.” he giggled wetly. “Every day—I had an altar in my room...”

“I know.” Remy soothed, holding onto Patton tight and reaching up to tousle his curls in a manner that Patton didn't recognize, but still felt weirdly familiar. “I heard you. Why do you think I snuck back when I realized you were in trouble?”

Patton pressed his face into Remy's shoulder. The smell of the mage's trade clung to him, acid and alcohol and herbs, but under that was something that set of primal echoes in Patton's head of family home safe loved, loamy earth and fresh rain.

Remy held on tight, just for a few seconds, but when he pulled back Patton felt steadier than he had in a very long time.

“We need to get the Lazari outta here.” Remy instructed. “It's a long story, but I was sent here to drag Lord Scaly off for execution. Plans changed, now I'm takin' you all somewhere safe.”

“Where's that?” Virgil asked, flinching when Remus swooped in to gather Logan up into his arms before Virgil could.

“Long story, tell you when we get there. Everyone move.”

********** When Logan opened his eyes, he was home.

It was a very familiar part of his home, however—none other than his childhood bed, wrapped in a familiar pair of arms.

Lifting his head, he had to fight not to lose his composure when he saw Roman's face. His head was nestled into Logan's pillow, features slack with repose...

Then tense, a low noise of distress rumbling in his chest, vibrating against Logan and shooting straight to his marrow.

Reaching out, Logan dug his fingers in beneath Roman's ribs. Fortunately it worked: immediately, Roman woke up with a squeal that was wholly undignified, and melted immediately into giggling he promptly cut off.

“Roman, it's okay...shhhh, you are safe. It's Logan, I'm here.”

Roman stared at him with a blank, unfocused look that scared Logan—actual fear he could not deny any longer, cold and cloying and sticking to the inside of his chest. Those green eyes were glassy and unseeing...they did not know him.

Very deliberately, Logan reached for Roman's hand, meshing their fingers together. He held them up in Roman's eyeline.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

That struck a chord, bringing some focus back to Roman's eyes. After a moment that stretched into eternity, Logan felt Roman's fingers tighten around his. Roman stared at their joined hands, mouth working soundlessly...

“I...never have.” Roman finally replied. “I never will.”

Logan's throat closed up, his eyes burning.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” He hated how small his voice sounded, how desperate.

Recognition finally sparked in Roman's eyes.

“...Starlight.”

Logan lost control then, flinging himself into Roman's arms. Roman let himself be bowled over onto his back, let Logan stretch out atop his body, press his face into the curve of Roman's neck, and just held on tight as Logan wept for the first time in ten years. Deep, heaving, wretched sobs that Roman soothed him through, a hand running over his back, Roman's deep and beautiful voice murmuring soothing nonsense directly into his ear.

Time passed. The slow, steady rhythm of Roman's fingers gradually smoothed the jagged edges until he could reach out and touch them without getting cut open again.

“Did you know?” Logan finally asked, lifting his head to meet Roman's gaze.

Roman stared back up at him, uncomprehending as his fingers drifted up to caress Logan's cheek. Logan found himself unable to resist leaning into the tender touch.

“Did I know what?”

“That day by the river—before the Festival. Did you know that you changed my True Name.”

“...not until we found the Tome. I...suspected something happened, but wasn't sure until we read about your grandfather.”

“What about later? When you came to me in my cell and gave me my new Name?”

“I...I'm not sure. I know I wasn't supposed to remember what you were to me, but...”

But he had. Reaching up to catch the hand Roman still had pressed to his cheek, Logan felt like he understood. Not really, but...but that was the point.

Roman never should have remembered enough to care about Logan, yet he'd come to find him, and helped him in his moment of need.

“I think,” Logan began hesitantly, “that it is as Grandpap often says. The stuff of Shadow—the things we are not allowed to know.”

Roman frowned pensively. His brow furrowed with it, and Logan let himself surrender to the temptation of bowing his head and kissing that line away.

“Miracles.” Roman murmured. “Shadow brought to the light.”

Logan made a sound of affirmation, nose brushing along Roman's hairline.

“Or an outsider brought to the Loom of Memory.”

Roman shifted under him, seeking out Logan's gaze with wide, curious green eyes.

“Is that where we are?” he asked, awestruck.

Logan nodded, running his fingers through Roman's hair.

“It is...and time moves differently here.” he explained, mouth hovering over Roman's.

Time Logan was going to take...because if Logan was Lazari, that meant he had power. If he was descended from the Animator, the First and most powerful, he had more power still. If he was bound, soul to soul, to the ruler of all the Kingdoms, Logan had power beyond magic.

He had all the power, maybe more, of his ancestor. Power enough to corrupt.

So he allowed it to corrupt him. He let himself be ruthlessly selfish.

He was not going to allow Roman to be taken from him again.

Never again.

********** He expected to feel a warm, strong pair of arms around him when he rose from a deep and restful slumber...but instead, his groggy mind was rattled by voices.

“So you've just been...what? Fooling him into thinking you were zombified? That's hot, don't get me wrong, but I don't see how he'd buy it.”

“Gurl, greedy men are dumber than a bag of hair—ain't that right, Emi?”

“Eh—yes, sweetheart. Basically, anyway. It takes a great deal of focus and power to control as many dead as Mori currently is.”

“That's why our people don't normally do it—raising a corpse is way different from resurrecting someone to life. Grandpap told Logan off for even suggesting the raising of more than two corpses at the same time. It's doable, but I think five is the limit before you risk madness under the weight of all those deaths.”

“So these are really zombies? Not people he resurrected? Gosh, that's just...scary.”

“Easy, baby brother—none of 'em are coming the fuck near you. That's why I got a heart-healer on my side...they don't tell people that they study necromancy on the side, y'know.”

“Remy, please. We don't...er...well, we don't study all of necromancy. Just necromatic theory—its relation to the mind. The function of the Cleansing, body theft, the psychological toll of magic...that's sort of how Remy and I met. I'm a bit of a bookworm...”

“Shhhh, he's waking up!”

Finally opening his eyes, he moved to sit up, reaching, fumbling until strong fingers caught his.

“It's okay, Loganberry—you're fine.”

“Logan—where is he?”

That was the moment he froze, his question coming out...strange. Deep, but not deep enough, well enunciated but too stiff.

“Logan?”

That was his voice...but it wasn't his voice saying Logan's name.

“...something's wrong.”

He looked around in confusion. Something was wrong with his eyes, the world fuzzy and haloed in blurs of color. He could recognize Remus only from the color of his tunic and the sound of his voice.

“Remus? What's happening?”

“Hold on—Virgil, his glasses.”

He didn't wear glasses, what the--

Then a pair was being set on his face, and the world suddenly came into painful focus. He was laying on a low couch in one of the palace offices. Remy and the heart-healer, Emile Picani, stood off to one side. Virgil and Remus knelt by his side now, with Janus and Patton wrapped around each other by the window.

Trembling, he lifted his hands in front of his face.

Pale. Slim. Long, lean fingers that had run through his hair so greedily, touched him so tenderly, blunt nails scoring skin in the depths of his mind...

“...Roman?”

Lowering Logan's hands—now his hands—Roman looked into his twin brother's eyes, into the face that he shared with him.

Or had at the start of the day.

“Please tell me that my brother did not just swap bodies with the fucking king?” Virgil squeaked, looking visibly ill as he swallowed thickly.

Roman, wearing Logan's skin, nodded slowly.

“I think he did,” Roman replied, “and in doing so...he just gave Mori exactly what he wanted.”

[addictofsupernatural]

Spidey Senses (pt. 5)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You and Peter get your costumes ready for the party, and Tony gives Peter some advice.

Word Count: 2779

Chapter 1 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 6

When Peter came into his room, he did not expect to find Ned. When he did, he knew he was in deep shit. He's bad at keeping secrets as it is. And now? Now how is he going to keep your secret identity from his best friend? He's obviously going to ask.

"You're the Spiderman."

"No, no I'm not! Ned, this isn't what you think."

"You just climbed the walls!"

"No I didn't."

"Oh my God this is the coolest thing ever!" His words were jumbled together. "You can stop a moving car!"

"Ned—"

"Are you an Avenger?!"

Peter tilted his head. "I mean, basically, yeah." He then snapped back to reality. "Ned, listen to me for a second. You cannot tell anybody about this."

"Yeah, yeah. Nobody... Okay I need to tell somebody about this."

"Ned!"

"Y/n should know! She's gonna flip dude. Wait, are you in a relationship with the Spidergirl?"

"What?! No." Peter quickly shook his head. "That's, that's weird. Don't say that."

"Wait wait wait, so who's Spidergirl?"

"I can't tell you that." Peter was silently panicking as he pressed his suit center, dropping it to the floor.

"Why not? I already know your secret, and I can't tell anybody. This will be just another secret." Something then clicked. "Oh my God, this means that you know who Spidergirl is! And she knows who you are! You two know each other, and if you won't tell me who it is then that means I know who it is."

"Ned—"

The two fell silent as you climbed through the window and landed the opposite direction from them. You then took off your mask. "Peter we need to talk. Tony just saw me today and—"

You stared at an almost naked Peter and a shocked Ned. Ned then opened his mouth in the shape of an O. "Ooohhh my God you're Spidergirl! That makes total sense on why Peter wouldn't want to say who you were."

"Uhm, wow. Okay. Well, what happened to you? Did you show him, or..." You asked Peter.

"I kind of just did the same as you." Peter nervously shrugged.

"You should get some clothes on." You forced your eyes away from his abs as he awkwardly nodded.

Aunt May then came in. "Peter, I was thinking we could go out for some Tai food—oh, hey y/n! So I take it Ned knows?"

"He just found out." You said sheepishly.

She giggled. "That explains Peter being naked."

You rubbed your neck. "Yeah..."

"Well, come and borrow some of my clothes. We're going out for Tai food."

You warmly smiled. "Thanks Aunt May."

"I'll do your makeup!" She excitedly said as you helplessly looked back to Peter, who gave you the same look, and the two of you left and closed the door.

"Your aunt knows?!"

"Yeah. It was a total accident."

Peter was filming in the hotel as you two did trick shots together. After a bit you stopped and Peter had laid down. He had his phone directly hovering over his face. "Peter be careful. You're honestly setting yourself up to hitting your face with your phone."

"What? No I'm not. Even if I did, I have super awesome reflexes. Don't worry."

It was as if karma hit him, because he wasn't paying attention to the phone and it slipped out of his hands, hitting him snack in the face. There was a pause, and even though this was a perfect time to laugh, you only asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Nn, yeah. That just really hurt my nose." He then saw that he had accidentally sent Aunt May the video instead of you when the phone fell. "Um, no! We aren't okay! We aren't okay!"

"Woah, what happened?" You got up from the chair and looked at Peter's phone, seeing the message that was sent to Aunt May. "Oohhh we're not okay!

Then, to both your horrors, she called.

Peter then snapped out of his memories and grabbed Ned's shoulders. "Listen Ned, you cannot tell anybody about this."

"Yeah. Don't worry, I can totally be your guy in the chair."

"The what?"

"The guy in the chair. Y'know, the one who tells you where to go and what to do. They're usually surrounded by a bunch of cool stuff."

"Ned, we don't need a guy in a chair."

He huffed. "We'll come back to it."

After a while, Peter was knocking his aunt's door. "May, are you done? We're hungry."

"Almost!" She called out.

You then came out in May's bell bottom and a zip up off the shoulder crop top. You had light eye makeup and some blush. "Wow." Ned said. "You look like girl."

You laughed and patted his cheek. "What did we say about wording?"

"I meant that you look good." He said as he swatted you away, giving you a goofy smile.

You looked at Peter and saw the red on his cheeks. Was it too revealing? "You, you look nice. Really nice."

Your face felt really hot. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah." He said in a breathless daze. "You look really pretty."

You did your best to calm yourself down. You felt like your face was on fire, and being around Peter had your spidey senses buzzing. He had that same buzzing feeling, and his face felt just as hot looking at you right now. Maybe becoming a man was making him see every girl this way. Yeah. This is normal.

You then told him about Tony, and sketched out some drawings of you and Peter later that night. The next day you and him sat outside of Del's, helping each other pick out which drawing to use. That's when Tony showed up.

"Hey kids. You two ready?" Then he saw your papers. "What are those?"

"Nosey as ever Tony. They're sketches of costumes."

"Can I see them?"

"Nope. Let's go!"

You and Peter met with a designer. You showed her the pictures you wanted, and the you and Peter communicated with the her about the details she wanted to alter. You both then got measured.

When you two left her office, Tony stood up from the waiting room. "What'll it be?"

You grinned. "That's a secret."

Two days later Tony picked you two up to get fitted. He went in with Peter to stir the pot that is you having a huge crush. "So kid, how's it going? Anything you wanna share to the class?"

"Uh, can I ask you something actually?"

"Shoot."

The designer then scolded Peter for moving. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "Did you ever start seeing girls differently when growing up?"

"Yeah, every boy does. Of course you shouldn't follow in my lead about what to do on those feelings."

"Woah, no! I meant, like, girls you knew. Ones that you were close with."

Tony held back a smile and slowly walked around the room. "Once."

"And what happened?"

"Now I'm trying to figure out when the right time is to propose to her."

"Oh." He fell silent and awkwardly twitched, getting scolded again for moving. "I'm sorry."

"So you're having those feelings with y/n?" Peter turned to see Tony look at him in the eye. Peter then looked away.

"I don't know. I feel weird around her and she's so pretty now."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I like Liz! Like, really like her. So why do I feel like that with y/n?"

"Kid, think about who's always going to be there for you. Who'll never laugh at you unless they have the right to. Who's going to stand up for you instead of quietly watching you get picked on. Who's the girl who'll do that?"

"Well—"

"I want a name. Now."

"Y/n." He surprised himself by saying your name without thinking. "But I still have feelings for Liz."

"Yeah, but she wasn't the first person in your mind." He then paused and looked at Peter's costume. "Wow. Was that y/n's idea?"

He then felt embarrassed, shifting only to apologize again for moving. "Um, yeah."

"Then she's..." Peter gave him a sheepish smile. "Oh God. Really?"

"I thought it would be pretty funny. She said it'd be cute."

"Mm." He then walked out of the room and into the waiting room that you were in. "Interesting to know you're one of those fans."

You giggled. "I'm really not, but I thought the matching would be cute. Do you like it?"

He huffed. "I guess I'll just have to see you two wearing it together."

It was soon your turn to be fitted, and once you were done the lady brought in Peter to have the two of you next to each other. Peter was in a very nice looking Captain America suit. It was in the style of his 2014 suit, and he had a very nicely done shield, one that looked very close to the real thing. He wore no face mask, as you figured this was enough.

You wore a gender bent Iron Man suit. It was a nice and detailed skirt with lines like the suit, while the fitted crop top had the arc reactor design. She gave you fake metal arm sleeves with your hands being connected to fake blasters. You had a simple red eye mask with lines like your skirt.

You grinned at the mirror. You then excitedly turned to Peter and hugged him from the side. "You look awesome!"

"Why would you make him dress up as such a boring person?" Tony asked.

"Because he's the one making me to the party in the first place."

Peter's cheeks reddened. "It was also Ned."

"You were the one who was going to follow me into the girl's restroom for it though." You giggled, and Tony raised his eyebrows.

"That's taken out of context Mr. Stark!"

"Not really. Anyways, what do you think?" You spun around and smiled. Peter dumbly didn't say anything and only slightly shook his head. "What? Why are you being weird? It's not like we're brother and sister Peter."

"No, we're definitely not." He mumbled.

"Then you don't like it?" You frowned. "You know you can be honest. It's just a costume."

"No no! I do, I really do like it! It's just that it looks so awesome that I didn't know how to explain how much I love it."

You furrowed your eyebrows but also smiled. "You're being weird right now, but I'll just assume that it's cause of Tony."

"Thanks kid." He then stepped up to you as you turned to him. He looked you over, awkwardly saying, "You look nice."

"Thank you." You grinned and rocked on your feet.

You were then brought back home and offered Peter to watch TV with you in the apartment. He agreed, and you made the two of you PB&J's as he sat on the couch. You texted Ned to come over, watching TV while waiting. It was cold in your apartment, so you brought a blanket for the two of you. You brought yourself to his side and leaned on him.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Peter asked, sitting up.

"You're not cold?" You didn't see the harm in being close to him.

"Yeah, but..."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" You asked, straightforward.

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

"Cause you've been weird since last night. My spidey sense could feel it. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I've just been thinking."

He heard your small gasp and looked into your sad eyes. "About what? Our friendship?"

"I don't know. About my life and stuff..." This only worsened your fears. He saw that you looked even more hurt, but didn't get the chance to say anything before there was a knock at the door. "Wait, y/n—"

"I need to get that." You stood up with a blank face and went to your door. It was Ned, and you silently hugged him before he could say anything. "I'm so happy you're here right now Ned. You have no idea."

"Um, thanks? You know I still love your hugs, but I need context."

"I'll text you about it later. Anyways, come in!" Peter watched you with sad eyes as you took out snacks for Ned, happily engaging in conversation as if you weren't just sad right now.

"Hey, can I have some?" Peter attempted to say lightheartedly with a smile. You only nodded. He took a cookie and nervously nibbled on it. He then cleared his throat as the air had gotten thick for him. "So Ned, so you have your costume for this Saturday?"

"Yeah. I'm going as Mario. I got a cool velcro mustache and everything."

"Good for you Ned." You smiled again.

"What about your guy's costumes?! Let me see them!" You then took out your outfit hanging up in your room and plopped it on the couch nonchalantly. This was making Peter uneasy. "I'll be wearing it to that damn party."

You gritted your words out with a forced smile, but Ned was too busy fan girling over the costume to notice. Peter quietly slipped his hand in yours to gain your attention. You stared at your laced fingers, and squeezed gently before you pulled your hand back.

"Okay, guys," Ned said. "I was thinking that you two could use your powers to your advantage at the party."

The rest of the time together at your apartment felt like a building was laying over Peter. He tried to get closer to you, but you'd move away when you noticed. Once Ned went home, Peter figured that this was his chance. "I should probably go home too."

"Yeah." You began to fold your blanket, your back turned away from him.

Though he was close to just leaving he scrunched up his face worked up his courage, blurting out, "We need to talk about earlier."

"No we don't." You began to walk away to put the blanket back, but he took the blanket from you and set it down on the couch. "Hey!"

"Listen. It's not what you think. I've just been confused—"

"Peter, please. It's okay to feel differently towards someone. It's okay to not like someone anymore. I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore, just don't coddle me if you're going to leave." You voice cracked and you wanted to crumble.

"Y/n..." He stepped closer to you. "Why are you crying?" He said, almost in a whisper.

Your eyes were cloudy with tears. "Cause I'm not ready for you to leave me yet."

You then bursted into sobbing, and Peter hugged you tightly as you buried yourself in his chest. You two stood like that, with Peter holding onto you for dear life, until your tears stopped. "Y/n, I promise I'm not going to leave you. I never was."

You looked up at him with your puffy eyes. "No?"

"No. I was just wondering if I still like Liz."

"Oh." You said dumbly. "I feel really stupid now."

"No, your not stupid! Don't say that." He said cutely. "C'mon, let's go to your room." You then both sat down on the bed. You leaned on him, wrapping your arm around him as he brushed his fingers through your hair. "Honestly, I was kinda comparing you to Liz a lot."

You weakly laughed. "I bet I just embarrassed myself after crying for you, even though there was really no reason to."

Peter smiled. "I don't think Liz would ever like me enough to cry over me though."

"Mm. So do you still like her?" You felt it getting harder to keep your eyes open. Peter noticed and chuckled.

"This probably won't make any sense, but I think it would be easier if I still liked her."

"Nope. That doesn't make any sense, but I'll support no matter what. Don't worry."

"Hm. You always do."

You then fell asleep on Peter, and after a bit he called Aunt May to pick him up. When she got there, waiting for him outside, he covered you with a blanket first.

He stared at you, before mustering his strength to go over to you and kiss your cheek. You would never know, so it's okay right? No, that's not okay. Peter felt like an jerk. He shouldn't have done that. That's invading your trust. Damn.

Once he got home he texted Ned that he thinks he likes you, even though that's kind of crazy for him to realize. He then got a call from Ned, and answered. "Finally dude."

---

Tag List:

@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps @babebenhardy @sofisofi1602 @smilexcaptainx @herondalism @coni-martina @youvebeenlizzed

[jokerhappylover]

Getting ready and escaping from the cops

Joker getting ready, leaving the apartment and escaping from the cops. His point of view.

Tonight is the night.

I'll be on Murray's Franklin show.

Like I said to Gary, this is crazy. Isn't it? For my whole life it was like nobody ever saw me, but now I'm going to be on TV. Not only on TV, but with the man that to me was a father that I never had. And today I have a chance, this one more chance to make people laugh with my jokes, the chance to meet Murray and talk to him. It's like a dream, or too good to be true. When they called me inviting me to be part of the show I wasn't even sure if it was real, but it is, I know it is. And as usual, this involves people make fun of me... Murray did... But forget it, tonight is the night.

I've already practiced my act, it's the most important moment of my life and I need to make a good impression. And it's not only about my act, I also want to look good. I wanna wear nice clothes, to fit in... I decided to be on the show dressed as a clown, but not as Carnival, a different look.

I did something I had never done before. I dyed my hair. I bought green hair dye and had a blast dying my hair, I was just enjoying myself for once, doing something new, dancing... I love how it looks, I already feel confident.

Then, the make up! I took my brushes and face paint and started applying it. It doesn't take so long to finish it, I'm already used to it, sometimes I'd feel lazy, and sometimes painting a fake smile on my face and having to put on a happy face to work while being sad would make me feel worse, it was like wearing a mask... Once I was at Haha's applying my Carnival make up and tried to force my smile, it hurt and I felt a tear running on my face.... But this time I was excited, I was really enjoying it and I was listening to That's Life. I first apply the white paint and after it I draw the red and blue part.

While I was still applying the white part and listing to 'That's Life' I heard a noise which interrupted me and the music, someone was in front of my door. I thought it could be the cops, but it wasn't them. But I don't really wanna talk about it right now, Randall is in the past now.

Anyway, after him and Gary came over, I kept doing the make up. My face was totally white, I already looked a little different, but it was time for the blue and red drawings. This time I wouldn't wear a clown nose, I would paint my nose red, and I drew the smile, eyebrows and blue parts different now, I really liked how it turned out, it looks like the Carnival make up, but still, it looks different, it feels different.

Now the clothes, the final part. I chose a green shirt, yellow vest and a red suit. First I put on the pants and shirt then the vest, and then finally the jacket, the jacket completes the look. Then I looked in the mirror, it looks so different, I look so different. I even felt like another person, or maybe it's a feeling that I had never had before... You know, for my whole life I've been shy, my experiences with bullies made me insecure of myself, but wearing this outfit and make up made me feel something I had never felt before, it gave me a big confidence and I even felt some kind of adrenaline.

I would just get ready and leave the apartment, but I couldn't stop looking at me in the mirror, dancing and making some face expressions and enjoying what I was feeling, listening to music. Then later I left the apartment, after taking a look at all the rooms and touching things for the last time. I've lived all my life there and I have so many bad memories... But it's over now.

I wrote a text on my journal, finishing it with "on Murray Franklin Tonight. Please watch!". Then I took the journal and the gun, I couldn't forget them. But also, I took Randall's wallet with some money inside it and my magic flowers and left the apartment. Then there I was walking down the hallway, heading to Sophie's apartment. I layed the walled on the ground in front of her door, I wrote her name on it. Then I took the magic flowers of my pocket and left it there. That's for you, Sofi.

I stepped into the elevator and left the apartment. Then I had to go down those staircases... Oh, the staircase. I've been going down that staircase for as long as I can remember... Going up the stairs after work was even harder, I had no energy and they would feel endless. But this time was different. I started going down the staircase doing some simple moves, I was feeling really good and music came to my head, a Rock n' Roll song that I heard on the radio. I got excited and then I was doing big movies, even kicking the air! Today is my day, tonight is the night! I didn't even focus on going down the staircase, I just wanted to feel the fun, and the feeling of finally being free. Free of everything.

But then, I heard someone yelling my name. THE COPS! No! Not now!! Why do they have do show up now? I start running, I had to escape! They are investigating the subway killings crime for weeks and I talked to them, made a story up, but they were still looking for me, but I never picked up the phone or was home. And they will NOT catch me today!

I was running trying to escape, good thing I'm fast but they were still seeing me, knowing where I was going. I even got hit by a car! It hurt but I had no time to waste, I got up and kept running to the subway station. There were so many clowns there, I started all this! Then I started to slow down when I was mixing in with the crowd of clowns, but the cops were still after me, and they managed to get in the elevated train. They were asking people to take the masks of, still looking for me, but there were so many people, I was escaping haha. Not today cops!

I took a guy's clown mask, he got angry and was going to punch me but he ended up punching another person. A fight started, I put on the clown mask. The cops were getting closer to the fight, closer to me, but I wasn't really worried about getting caught, I was going to escape from them, we were already at the another station and the train was already stopping, the cops were in the middle of the fight, unable to come to where I was. One of them ended up killing a guy, by mistake I think, then everyone was fighting with them, all those people against only two cops, poor them! All of them left the train, still fighting, the violence spilled out onto the platform. The cops were on the ground, the protestors were crazy! I laughed and took the mask of and danced. Bye bye cops! Then I left the station, feeling really confident, on my way to the show.

#joker #joker2019 #joaquinphoenixjoker #arthurfleck #jokerscenes #jokerscene #jokerfandom #fandom #clowns

[elusive---ivory]

Circus Act - 2

Woop woop, part 2. I've been extremely exhausted but here we are.

Part 1

Part 2

Ps: Shout out to my girl, @gloomyladyy for drawing Sandy for me. She looks stunning 💕💕

Soon, it was Monday. Arthur had spent most of the weekend, hanging out with his mother, and writing subtle notes in his journal.

As Arthur got to work, he was greeted with those kind eyes he met last Thursday.

Sandy was setting up her locker, which just so happened to be right next to Arthur's.

"Hey Art, how are you?" Sandy greeted Arthur with a smile. She seemed to have lots of makeup on, and judging by her right eyelid, it was to hide something.

Arthur smiled back, opening his locker. "Good morning, Sandy."

"Morning, Artie. Ms. Cheekbones." Randall walked into the room, making an annoying appearance.

Sandy ignored Randall, pushing past him before walking into a changing room of some sort.

Randall scoffed. "What's her deal?"

Arthur shrugged.

Randall walked over to Arthur, opening up his locker.

"I heard about the other day. Kids are fucking savages." Randall commented.

Arthur sighed, fidgeting with his shoes. "They were just kids. Just leave it be."

"That kind of thinking, they'll just walk all over ya." Randall handed Arthur a brown paper bag.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, opening the bag.

Inside the bag was a gun and about 19 bullets.

Arthur scoffed, thinking it was some sort of prank. When he looked up at Randall, he could see that he was serious.

"Randall, I'm not supposed to have a gun." Arthur hushed, gritting his teeth.

"Relax, Art. You can pay me back. You're my boy. Besides chicks love guns." Randall walked away, pointing at the changing room.

Arthur hid the gun in his bag, and went back to lacing his enormous clown shoes, and promptly placing the shoes directly on his feet. Afterward, Arthur sat at the vanity, painting his face, putting on the mask of his clown persona, Carnival.

Sandy walked out of the changing room, decked in clown gear. Her dress seemed to consist of a red, white, and black color scheme, topped with a silly little hat on her black hair. The makeup she had on seemed to go with her own scheme.

Arthur's jaw laid slightly adjacent as he locked eyes on Sandy's outfit. He was barely finished with his makeup, and she was already dressed.

Sandy walked over to the vanity. "I love your makeup, Arthur. The shades of blue really contrasts with the red."

Arthur blinked for a second. "Thank you. I like your makeup, too."

Those emerald eyes hit her again. Despite feeling anxious from being around all sorts if guys, Sandy felt some comfort around Arthur. He was charming and during. Almost like Dennis, when she first met him. She smile faded.

Sandy cleared her throat. "Anyway, Hoyt wanted to tell you that you should come with me to that old folks home. He says that you could show me the ropes."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. I could do that."

The old folks home was just down a few blocks from the studio.

"Good afternoon, elders. We have some exciting company today. Meet Ms. Cello, and Carnival." The director of the home introduced Sandy and Arthur, as they got into place.

Sandy got into center. She walked over to what looked to be a very old looking gramophone, and placed a record. The record played Somewhere Over The Rainbow from the Wizard of Oz. The old people in the lounge room seemed to smile as Sandy began to dance around them. She did magic tricks, and pulled a handkerchief out of her tiny hat.

Arthur stood in the back, amazed. Sandy was fantastic, wowing the crowd with her tricks. Arthur couldn't compete with that. When it was his turn, Arthur froze up.

He felt a repressed laugh crawled up in the back of his throat. Suddenly, the laughter erupted from Arthur.

The elderly didn't seem amused. Some of the elders were confused or concerned about the man laughing in front of them.

Sandy was also concerned. She had never heard this kind of laughter come from Arthur before. Sandy grabbed Arthur to the side.

Arthur was hunched over, trying to repress his laughter with his hand.

"Arthur? Are you ok?" Sandy asked, placing a hand on his head.

Arthur looked away from her. He was already embarrassed enough.

"Arthur, it's ok. What's wrong?" Sandy tried comforting Arthur, but the home director had kicked them out.

Afterwards, Arthur's laughter subsided and seemed to be more calm. The walk back to Haha's was quiet.

"I have a condition." Arthur broke the silence after a while.

Sandy looked over at him. "Oh, what kind of condition?"

"It's called the pseudobulbar affect. I was diagnosed with it when I was young." Arthur sighed, looking at the ground.

"That's some heavy stuff, Arthur." Sandy walked back over to Arthur.

"You probably don't want to be around me anymore." Arthur's thick eyebrows furrowed. He looked up at Sandy like a hurt puppy.

"Are you joking? Of course, I want to be around you. You're the only guy I can actually talk to." Sandy smiled.

Arthur's face lit up. He seemed surprised at her answer. Arthur was so used to rejection, and Sandy didn't seem to mind him at all. It was such a relief to meet someone kind and considerate.

"Hey, how about, after work, I treat you to a drink or something?" Sandy asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, that would be great."

His usual coworkers never invited him to anything. He was always casted out of their social group. Even with people like Randall and Gary, he felt invisible. It wasn't until Sandy came that someone actually saw him.

Sandy smiled, grabbing onto his arm. "Well, then come on, silly."

An old joint called Martha's was a place where Sandy's cousin, Deliah, worked. Sandy would go every Monday to get discounted drinks from her cousin.

"Sandy!" Dee exclaimed, giving her a tight hug. "Ooh, and who's this?"

Sandy laughed at Dee's suggestive comment. It was nice seeing her out of rehab. Dee had a long history with ketamine. Sandy was proud to see her every Monday working to better herself.

"This is Arthur. My coworker. Arthur, this is my cousin, Dee." Sandy said.

Arthur hesitantly shook Dee's hand.

Arthur looked around at all the people in the bar. Everyone in the bar made him incredibly nervous. He clinged onto Sandy's arm as they walked over towards a booth.

"So, how long have you been working for Hoyt?" Sandy asked, sitting next to Arthur on the velvet booth.

Arthur thought for a second. "A few months. My social worker recommended me the job."

"That's good. You know, my boyfriend tried to convince me not to get the job. He said 'think about how it'd look on him.'" Sandy sneered.

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Boyfriend? You've never mentioned him before."

"There's a reason for that. He's a dick." Sandy rolled her eyes thinking about Dennis.

Arthur looked down at his drink, barely even taking a sip.

Sandy opened up a pack of cigarettes, and placed one to her lips.

Arthur studied the cigarette pressed against her lips. How she inhaled the smoke, and then letting it out in the air. Sandy seemed peaceful and content. Arthur noticed in the strobe lights of the bar that Sandy had a nasty bruise on her face. From her cheek, all the way up to her eyelid.

Sandy felt Arthur staring at her.

"What happened to your face?" Arthur asked.

Sandy gulped. "I ran into a door." She lied.

Arthur glared. He didn't like liars. Just before Arthur said anything else. Dee walked up to the booth with Dennis.

"Sandy, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him. I told him that you weren't here." Dee apologized, profusely.

"It's fine, Dee." Sandy distinguished her cigarette, throwing it on the ground. "I have to go, Arthur. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Arthur could tell that she didn't want to leave. Dennis walked up to the booth, grabbing Sandy's arm.

"Go wait in the car, kitten." Dennis growled.

Sandy nodded, turning her head away from Arthur.

"Listen here, buddy. If I ever see you hanging around my girlfriend, again. I'll fucking kill you." Dennis grabbed Arthur by the shirt and threw him on the table. "Understand?"

Arthur nodded. As Dennis walked off, Arthur had the urge to grab the gun from out of his bag.

'She deserves better.' Arthur thought. 'Who does he think he is?'

Taglist: @gloomyladyy @memory-mortis @jokerflecker @joker-flecked-me @princessgeekface

(If you'd like to be tagged, message me/send an ask!! I'm always happy to add people)

The Woman In Velvet Series

[dishwater-blondie]

I'm back with another prompt, if you feel like doing it. Emilie is FINALLY back in everyones lives. But, surprisingly, Gabe leaves her for Nathalie. Because I just love the idea of Gabriel choosing her, even when he has his wife back. (And also because Nathalie deserves to know she isn't just something he "settled" with because he couldn't have his wife)

(This was really hard to write, honestly. I love to drink that fuck Emilie juice but I also have complicated feelings about her so this was rough.)

…

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

Gabriel raised his head, hand pausing over the screen of his drawing board. The question had come following the sounds of the atelier door opening and closing, and heeled footsteps on the black and white tile, clicking purposefully until they came to a stop before him, and yet only the words had seemed to break monotonous noise of his typing. It was such an uneven break as well, that he found that he hadn’t fully comprehended what had been said to him. “What?” he asked.

She had her hands on her hips, her weight leaned entirely on her left leg, chin tilted up. She looked dignified and disappointed more than anything, which was why it came like a slap when she repeated herself, “You don’t love me anymore, Gabriel, do you?”

Yes, a slap was what it like, creating that simultaneously hot and cold sensation on his cheeks, burning like fire and frost. He gripped the sides of his screen to hold himself steady. “Emilie!” he exclaimed. 

“Truly, Gabriel, you should know that I am the last person you are capable of fooling.” He green were jewels shining with piercing light, and it must have come from within, some sun which was blazing behind her cool and steady visage. “Judging by your reaction, it seems am I less fallible to your deception than even you are. I wouldn’t even need this miraculous to know for sure.” She gestured to her right breast. Under her snow-white blazer, a peacock-themed brooch was pinned to her shirt. 

“Emilie, I…”

“Would you care to be truthful, Gabriel? I feel it’s the least you owe me.” 

He stared at her, his mouth hung agape, and she stared back expectantly, glowing like the painting behind his head with equal beauty and far more menace. He glanced down at his screen, at the work he had been doing just moments before. Finally, he murmured, the words coming on a wave of shaking breath, “No, Emilie. I don’t love you anymore.” 

The corner of her lip turned up bitterly. “Right. So, would you explain yourself, then? I do already know the circumstances, but I think it’s fair to hear it from you.” 

His knuckles were white, his toes clenched within his shoes. Through the pulses of his own miraculous, which he still wore beneath his striped necktie, he could sense Emilie’s anger. Usually, she knew exactly how to conceal his emotions from him. Whatever she was feeling now, she wanted him to know, to incite remorse, perhaps, and guilt, as though he hadn’t desperately hoped such awful sentiments would fade upon her return. Yet, they had only deepened, and his spirit had become sore with the effort of trying to dig himself out of those trenches, drawn like scars still bleeding. 

He said, “I miss what we used to be.” 

“And what has changed about us?” she challenged, a pale eyebrow raised high above one of those glittering eyes. “I am the same as I ever was. I want no different than I ever have.” 

“But I don’t want it anymore, Emilie.” 

“Why not? You spent two years of your life fighting tooth and nail to get me back, just as you promised you would. I know you probably hoped it would be the end for you, but you were aware from the beginning that my business remains unfinished.” She took a couple additional steps forward and leaned over his drawing board so that her white-gold hair dangled just a centimeter above the screen. “You always told me you’d be willing to give me the world. Now it’s in my grasp. I’m no different, Gabriel, I’m just stronger now. Does that frighten you?”

“Maybe it does,” he replied coldly. The way she was speaking made him feel cold to the bone. This wasn’t how these fights were supposed to sound. It was as if they were supposed to be wearing their villain masks. Yet here they were, husband and wife, speaking like enemies on a battlefield. “It scares me because it doesn’t feel human. This side of you, Emilie, I’m all too familiar with it. It’s what I had to become in order to get you back. But there’s a difference between us.”

She tilted her head a little. “Name it.”

“Everything I did, I did because I loved you,” he growled, cupping her face, trying to get a closer look at this woman he was seeing clearly for the first time. “But everything you do, you do despite love. You know, my darling,” he went on as she drew away from his touch, “I hope you are reminded of that whenever you look at Adrien. You are the light of his life. I could never be what you are to him, but I know I would choose to have nothing before I’d ever let him go. I once felt the same about you.”

Emilie had narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. A hand laid on her chest, feeling for her miraculous, feeling for his love. “And as for your dear Nathalie?”

Gabriel gave his wife a sad, almost pitying look, he stepped back from his screen, gestured to it. “Here, why don’t you take a look at this? I’ll leave you to it.”

She glanced at him questioningly, but said not a word as he quietly stepped past her. A moment later, he had shut the door to the atelier, leaving her alone with her own gilded portrait, its lovely eyes on her as she walked to face his screen. She fingered her brooch 

Displayed was a letter he had begun to write, unfinished, but, she found, having already said quite enough. 

Dear Emilie, 

Long ago, you showed me how to love you, and it was all gold and castles and kingdoms. A beautiful world you built, a world you wanted to conquer. And I believed you deserved it, because you believed it too. 

You lost yourself to the power you loved, you chose to leave us knowing how much we needed you, because we weren’t enough, because you wanted more. 

I know you’d do it all again.

And while you were gone, Nathalie, faithful and selfless, showed me how she loved me, and it was all giving and comfort and kindness. She wanted me to be happy, even if it was at the expense of herself, even if it was your world I belonged to. 

She nearly lost herself to the power you loved, so that you could have it all, and we could have you back. 

I know she’d do it all again. 

I will never let her. 

She’d do anything for us. She deserves the love she had always so freely given. And I love her. 

Thank you, Emilie, for being a wonderful mother to our son. I hope there is enough room in your heart to keep him there. 

Her hand had balled into a fist over her miraculous, trembling as she finished reading. She read again, withheld the urge to shatter the screen in front of her face. 

Instead, she took a deep breath, released it, felt the beating of heart beginning to slow. 

She set her fingers on the screen, typed out a few letters. 

Goodbye.