#goddamn it I will fight back. I will claw my way all the way to Canada if I have to

[strohller27]

.

[shepards-folly]

A wc!birdsibs doodle cause they’ve been in my head. [alt without the wet cat text under the cut]

[emjiroki]

Warnings: breeding, creampie, mentions of blood and boxing (just snippets) pro boxer Yuji Itadori

A/N: Hello lovelies! back again with my little entry to @his-sweet-minx Sex Me Up event! I got "Missionary with a twist" which is just so perfect for our sweet boy Yuji and I hope it lives up to expectations! please enjoy (also this is SO self indulgent pro boxer Yuji is the LOML)

all reblogs, comments, tags, and likes appreciated and treasured

Sweating. Shuddering. Heavy breathes warm against each others skin as you melt together. You were trying to be easy against his bruised ribs, though it didn't matter to him. The fight was only two rounds before his opponent was face down in the ring, he probably wouldn't even blemish and he wanted, was close to begging, for you to cling to him. Claw his skin, bite his tender muscles lax beneath your hold and mark him for your own.

He needed you. Primally. In a way not even the ring on your finger could satisfy. After the promise you made him before his fight, he wasn't planning on letting out of this bed or off his cock for awhile.

"You were serious when you promised earlier r-right?" He whimpered, just barely able to pull his lips away from yours. You nodded breathlessly, mind swirling in a torrent of sweet pleasure and need.

"I meant every word of it, I want to have your baby Yuuji".

The way he groaned so helplessly lit a fire in your belly, having this man who not even two hours ago had another man's blood smeared across his cheek broken and pleading for you was a high nothing could match. This was a side of him only you were allowed to see.

His hands were so soft against your skin as he squeezed and pulled, his hot tongue licking out against your hard nipple as his thumb worked the other one, his amber eyes glazed over and looking up at you with so much love you felt your heart swell.

"We're not leaving this bed until we have a positive test" he said, sitting up on his knees between your spread legs, "that's my promise to you". The head of his cock was so warm it sent a shiver down your spine as he dragged it through your wetness, bumping against your clit a few times as you moaned into each other's mouths, tongues dancing together and spit leaking from the corners of your lips as the first inch sank in.

"So tight, goddamn" He groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, pressing closer and stretching you so deep it had your toes curling against his back. Before you even take a deep breath to adjust to the intrusion he had your leg hooked over his shoulder, a pussydrunk smile easing across his lips.

Why was it so hard to keep your eyes focused? You could feel your lids pulling shut with every syrupy slow thrust into your heat, the veins along the side of his length dragging against your soft velvety walls. It felt all too much to keep your eyes locked on his, sweat rolling down his cut abs as his big hands kept you pinned beneath him as he took his time to completely unravel you, like the sun was radiating beneath his skin as he pressed kisses across your collarbones and whispered his devotion so low it buzzed in your veins.

You moaned when his hand grasped your jaw, his cock so deep you could feel his heavy balls against your ass as he ruined you.

"Eyes on me baby girl" He murmured, tracing his hand down to lightly squeeze your throat, just enough to have your head spinning as he fucked against that throbbing sweet spot deep inside. "Feel how wet you are?".

It was leaking down to the sheets as you nodded. It felt like your bones turned to liquid with every press of his hips against yours.

"Y-Yuji I'm gonna- aah" your fingers dug into his shoulders as you shivered beneath him, a nearly sinful groan rolling from deep in his chest as your pussy gripped around him so tight he could barely move.

"Squeezing me so good baby," He hissed, bucking his hips in a broken rhythm that nudged the still pulsating spot so roughly that you felt yourself gush against him, your wetness beginning to drip down his abdomen to his thighs. "So pretty when you cum".

"Want you to cum Yuji, please I-I need it" You panted, using the leg he wasn't gripping to pull him in closer. The kiss he pressed against your swollen lips was needy, hungry and insatiable in the way he devoured you until your teeth clashed and your tongues were interlocked, barely able to breathe. His pace was rocking the bed, the headboard banging against the wall and your hands clinging onto him till he had scratches in his skin.

His hips stuttered at the cry of his name that left your lips, whimpering moans huffing through his nose as you felt his cock jump, gush after gush of hot cum filling you until it began to drip out around him. After a moment, he was soft and sensitive, rutting his hips to keep himself inside of you as his cum made it so wet. But the tension was shattered when Gojo's ringtone blasted from Yuji's nightstand, his phone vibrating against the wooden surface. Immediately he snatched it up, declined the call and shut his phone off.

"Manager can wait, I've got a promise to make good on" He smirked when he saw your questioning look, laying a warm hand against your abdomen and planting a soft kiss beneath your bellybutton, his eyes warm with something lustful, "and so do you".

[sstardustt3]

toby rogers relationship hcs! (both sfw and nsfvv)

tags II toby rogers x reader II creepypasta II nsfw II mentions of him being a manwhore II toby being a whinny little bitch II slight angst at the beginning II toby being a wet cat of a boyfriend II just general hcs of mine II

-Okay so im just gonna say this right now that he is NOT a good boyfriend not intentionally of course but none the less, a bad boyfriend. 

-He’s the type to be overly obsessive and jealous of you, not even like the people that surround you and other men but just you as a person 

-i don’t think he’s abusive but i do think he would be an asshole for two reasons

One, he is canonically an asshole and he is an obnoxious little shit 

and two it is cannon that he is annoying to the point where he makes people full on cry

So in my opinion i think if you were to ever get into an argument with this man he’s either mocking you until you break down

-i do think he’ll feel bad about it tho after a while and apologize (eventually)

- but adding on to being overly obsessive i think he’ll also be very clingy and extremely scared of loosing you

- I think being with him would kinda be an endless cycle of good times, hating the world, and then fighting, apologies and then repeat

But moving on from that  lets talk about some happier hcs!!

I think he’d like very calm very small easy dates liike going to the aquarium or literal hanging out on the roof of a house and just eating or talking just something very simple and easy to do.

He would definitely be the type to just stare at people and not even realize that he’s doing it and he does that alot and now he does it even more with you! He just stares at you like some type of strange special thing he found

I don’t feel like he’s the type to be vocal about his love and he mostly just uses physical affection (kinda like a cat, he’ll give you affection if he wants it)

Which brings me to another point, he looks like a  wet cat and acts like one whenever he even TOUCHES water. Like he can’t stand it and he hates the way it feels on his skin, you found this out when on your second date he let you pick out where to go and out of everywhere you chose a beach..? Like okay picture this..

“...what the fuck is this?”

“It’s a beach, toby.”

“I know that much im not stupid, why are we here.”

“Because your whiter than a ghost and you can use some sun and two, the beach is fun!”

“...now what in the peanut butter fuck made you think that the beach is fun.”

“Stop whining like a little bitch and get in the water.”

“Im not getting in the goddamn water- wait- no-”

SPLASH.

-you threw him into the shallow part of the water and he started coughing and squirming and trying to claw his way onto shore like his life depended on it. 

-which brings me to another point, his hygiene is ASS. Like if you weren’t there you he would have continued to use axe bodyspray and act like that is good enough and nobody notices that he showers once every blue moon. 

-He did used to shower more often when he was with clockwork but after that he just fell out of habit

-but once he got with you he started to slowly fall back into actually taking care if himself and eating full meals and not just living off of  several week old pizza and monster energy

-but when you first met him it was unbearable, so unbearable that you literal had to get in the shower with him and take one with im just to make sure he actually cleans himself properly.

-you actually ended up helping him was his back and he ended up sobbing like a baby, so safe to say you knew then and their what his love language was..

-acts of service!! He is a huge fan of acts of service because  boy hadn’t had people really take care of him like that before at first he ends up rejecting almost all of the things you do but eventually he comes around to it and ends up letting himself enjoy being taken care of

NSFVV WARNING FOR THIS PART

- I don’t think that he’s as sex addicted as most people say he is

-like don’t get me wrong he still has a fair amount of hook ups but i personally don’t think it’s as big of deal to him

- i think when he does do it it’s to let out frustration when he’s pissed about something or he just wants to feel something

-he probably mellowed out overtime so now that he’s with you he’ll still do it when he’s really pissed about something or he’ll just do it because you asked

-he had some experience but he wasn’t very good at it but his willingness to learn made up for that

-he’s very awkward at first he has not clue on what to do, he’s used to it being a one and done type of thing.

-he was only in school until maybe 5th-7th grade (my personal hc not cannon) so he was only given a basic understanding of how the human body works in that way

-but when he gets into it oh my god he is a such a manwhore.

-he is pretty rough most of the time, not intentionally but you can not tell me that working for slender hasn’t given him strong ass arms and a sleeper bulid (but more on that at a later date) 

-he is unbelievably whinny, just praise him and he is your bitch. 

- as i said earlier, he likes acts of service, his way of returning that is aftercare (even if it’s like the bare minimum, it’s the thought that count’s really)

It appears i have ran out of shit to say so that’s the end of this post

(reposts and requests are deeply appreciated and if you want to make a request then submit it through my ask me anything!)

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 14

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“I do not believe you have amnesia,” said Ember.  “I do not believe you have amnesia.  How are you so freaking–”

Phantom beaned Ember in the face with a seat cushion.  It might have been soft, but Ember didn’t exactly check to make sure that no one put gum under them after concerts.  

“LESS TALKING MORE SINGING!” Technus shrieked electronically. “NANOBOT ATTACK!”

“No!” said Skulker.  “Not the freaking–”  

A swarm of robots descended from vents in the ceiling.  Toy robots.  Brightly colored, with rounded edges.  They had lasers.  Ones that stung.  

“Ouch!” said Phantom.  

“Augh!” squeaked Ember.  

“Goddamn–” shouted Skulker before being borne under the colorful swarm.  

“BEHOLD, MY ROBOT ARMY!”

Freaking Leeroy-Jenkins-looking–

Phantom shoved them to the sides of the room with a wave of ecto-energy. 

“Hey, speaking of that, do you know Vlad?”

“Speaking of what?” demanded Ember, pulling gum out of her hair.  She was going to kill him for that.  “Freaking robot armies?  Are you going to tell us that Plasmius has a robot army?”

“AND HE DIDN’T BUY IT FROM ME?”

“Of course he wouldn’t!  Ol’ Plaz is a loser but he knows about malware.”

“No, I mean, like, I learned that move from him,” said Phantom.  “And, like, it does seem like all of you guys know each other, yeah?  I’m the point of contact, probably, but still–”

“Actually, no,” said Ember.  “Skulker’s been working for Plasmius for ages.”  Skulker had also clawed his way out of the robots and was now sneaking up on Phantom rather effectively.  

Except, suddenly, it wasn’t so effective.  Phantom twisted, reached back, hooked his fingers under the edge of Skulker’s helmet and heaved.  Skulker’s head popped off cleanly before soaring across the auditorium.  

Phantom stared after it for a moment, then shrieked, loudly.  “His head!  Oh, gosh, his head.”

Okay, maybe the dipstick did have amnesia.  

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to–  His head came off.  His head.  Is he– He’s already dead, is he–  I didn’t mean to hurt– to end–”  The main part of Skulker’s armor fell over with a clatter.  

“Oh my god,” said Ember, flying over to Skulker.  The actual Skulker.  In the pilot’s seat in the helmet.  Usually she wouldn’t do this, but Phantom looked like he was about to cry.  She picked him up and yanked him out of the helmet.  “This is Skulker.  He just likes to stomp around in a suit of armor, ‘cause he’s compensating for something.”

“Hey!” squealed Skulker.  

“It’s a mecha!” chimed in Technus, proudly.  “My own design!”

“That’s… actually pretty cool,” said Phantom.  “But I think– I think I need to– Go home.  And lie down or something.  Have a, um, a good one.  We’ll hang out later.  Or fight.  Yeah.”  He hit a button on his weird necklace pocketwatch and disappeared.  

“Well,” said Ember.  “That was anticlimactic.”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of was.”

“Wanna keep fighting?” she asked.  

“YES!”

[husbandhoshi]

three’s a crowd [m]

pairing: haechan x jeno x f!reader

wc: 3.5k

summary: maybe you can have your cake and eat it too, although your friends certainly don’t make it easy.

notes: established relationship!haechan meets bff!jeno, pwp, college!au, sub!reader, threesome hijinks, slight exhibitionism, unprotected piv sex, oral (f and m receiving), spanking, cumplay, breeding, thigh fucking, slight degradation/dirty talk, embarrassing banter, mentions of alcohol

it’s not one of your finest moments, you think, when your top is off and haechan’s hand is up your skirt, and the door is just open enough to reveal a very stunned jeno.

if only any of you were drunk enough to have this be a distant memory in the morning—unfortunately, you learned too late that your faith in mark’s intuition was sorely misplaced when he showed up with half a handle of seltzers and the remnants of what looked like a world war 2 era vodka bottle.

worse, all it took was one sad blackberry white claw (that you split with haechan), a handful of risky texts, and mark passing out on the couch after one and a half shots to find yourself in the unfortunate position of being half-naked in your best friend’s bedroom.

“oh my god, jeno—,” you hiss urgently, but his deer in the headlights gaze does not waver.

your back is pressed against haechan’s chest and your legs tucked behind his to keep them spread—even if you wanted to shoo jeno away and shut the door you couldn’t.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” haechan whispers. he nips at your earlobe between words. “this ok with you?”

you feel jeno’s eyes burning holes into you (or your panties), and for some reason your brain has been astoundingly silent when it comes to even thinking about telling him to go.

jeno stands there, broad chest rising with another shaky breath, all flushed with his pupils blown out, and you’re coming to terms with the fact that, yes, there is something inexplicably hot about watching your best friend watch you get off.

you nod (perhaps a little too enthusiastically), and that’s all haechan needs to proceed.

a threesome is something you’ve all talked about before, and although you’d have preferred it to be much different (perhaps not on the goddamn ground, for starters), something about the impromptu nature of it all has your blood running hotter than normal.

haechan continues working you over, movements deliberate—he wants jeno to watch. his fingertips brush over the thin panel of fabric covering your cunt, dragging just enough to make you dizzy, as he kisses the side of your neck.

you’re not sure whether it’s the graze of haechan’s teeth over your pulse or the way you cannot seem to break eye contact with jeno, but your mind is everywhere and nowhere at once.

your resolve finally breaks when he pushes your panties aside (soaked) to lazily press on your clit.

“ah, shit,” you breathe, unable to stop your thighs from shaking and hips from bucking up into his hand.

another helpless moan, and jeno drops his empty seltzer can, something you would laugh at if you weren’t fighting the pathetic urge to cum just from some heavy petting.

“fuck,” he groans. it comes from his chest, a gravelly, deep sound, and even hearing it makes your toes curl.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” haechan looks up from the littering of marks on your shoulder to meet jeno’s eyes. “look, i’d ask you out to dinner first before we all fuck, but i figure you’re more of a dessert guy?”

you fight the need to throttle your boyfriend for his inability to read the room, but he doesn’t stop playing with your clit, something he is regrettably very good at.

“yeah. fuck.” jeno’s sweatpants drop so fast they might as well be made of lead. you can see the outline of his dick through his briefs, and you wonder how big it is, how it would feel in your guts.

complicating things, haechan is now shallowly pumping a few fingers in you, taking care to press the heel of his palm into your swollen clit.

“haechan, fuck,” you moan, grinding into his hand. “i’m gonna cum—”

then he stops.

“aww, so fast. baby can’t handle the thought of being fucked in both holes, huh? getting all tight around me just thinking about it?”

haechan pulls his fingers out to slap your cunt, really just a few mean pats, but you’re so wound up, your whole body locks up and a pitiful whimper is ripped from your throat. he’s right, the only thing you want is to be split open right now, and the fake pity in his voice is doing crazy things to the building ache in your pussy.

“jeno,” haechan starts. “do you wanna taste?” he nips at your earlobe. “how’s that sound, baby? you want him to make you cum?”

“y-yes,” you plead. jeno stands there and blinks at you. “yes, now please hurry the fuck up.”

you think you can actually physically feel your life force dwindle away every three seconds it takes for jeno to undo a button on his mile-long button up shirt.

it’s some combination of the sheer desperation in your voice and the sight of your cunt, all slick and puffy from your arousal, that breaks jeno. (or maybe it’s the way haechan laughs, clearly enjoying watching two embarrassingly horny people try to get anything done.)

“fuck it.” jeno pulls his still half-buttoned shirt over his head and gets on his knees. oh my god, lee jeno is on his knees, but you barely have time to process anything else before things roll into motion.

haechan grabs your thighs and holds them spread, blunt nails digging into your soft skin. you feel the cold air on your cunt, the wetness dripping onto the ground. you’re shaking with anticipation and right now there is nothing more you want than for jeno to eat you out.

the first touch of his tongue to your pussy sends your back arching so hard you almost pull a muscle, and you cry out.

“fucking dirty, huh? you like watching yourself getting eaten out by your best friend?” haechan asks in a low voice, moving his hands up from your legs to play with your tits, giving them a hard squeeze.

“m-mmhm—” you can’t move; you’re caged between these two bodies, and all you can do is take the pleasure as it comes to you like a speeding train.

you’re a moaning mess, your hands tangled in jeno’s hair as he licks your cunt dry. you’re bucking into his face, but he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him. he’s so eager, you can’t decide if he’s just experienced or if doing this to you has ever crossed his mind, but both possibilities make you a little dizzy.

as if he’s read your mind, haechan starts, “she’s so mean, huh, jeno?” jeno kisses your clit at about the same time haechan bites your collarbone, and you twitch pathetically in haechan’s firm embrace. “my baby’s getting all worked up from seeing you on your knees, knowing you can’t have her?”

jeno nods fervently but never once unseals his mouth from your cunt, and you just might positively cry.

you feel his tongue first in your slit, lapping shallowly at your walls, and his nose bumps your clit; the dual stimulation makes you teary-eyed with pleasure. then, he moves to suck the bud, and a finger prods at your entrance before pushing in. he’s shy, but the literal intensity he’s eating you out with is giving you a near out of body experience.

“fuck, jeno, you’re so—fuck,” you groan, head lolled to the side as he finger fucks you. “take notes, haechan,” you heave in between breaths, and, knowing you, he scoffs in reply (rightly so. it’s almost terrifying how he seems to know your pussy better than you.) and rolls your nipples between his fingers. it’s such a small thing, but you swear the sensation goes straight down to your core.

“more, more,” you beg, hurtling towards a second orgasm.

“she has the audacity to ask after saying that?” you can easily visualize your boyfriend rolling his eyes, but you choose to focus on the telltale smile he presses to your cheek instead.

anyhow, you’re lucky jeno’s nicer than haechan—he immediately complies, adding a second digit. his fingers feel so thick in you, and you savor every moment of it. the pads of his fingers drag against your walls as they curl nicely, adding to the building pressure in your stomach.

it doesn’t help how he moans every time you jerk into him, and you truly feel powerless in the best way possible.

haechan watches intently, and you can tell he’s enjoying the show even if he’s not participating much in it. his cock is rock hard, pressed up against your back, and it’s driving you crazy how you want to fuck both men so bad.

“jeno, i’m—” he knows even before you get the words out, and he pumps two fingers in you, tongue flicking your bud. and you cum, hips arching and voice almost raw from moaning.

he sits up to kiss you, more tenderly than you’ve ever imagined, and you melt in it.

it’s no secret that you had the biggest crush on him when you were kids, back when you were neighbors. he was the boy next door of every girl’s dreams, and it certainly didn’t help how he, as loyal as ever, spent nearly every second of every summer by your side.

of course, as times changed and feelings faded, you both quickly realized things worked much better as friends (to both your mothers’ dismay). somehow, jeno predicted you and haechan falling in love before either of you ever saw it coming.

(you remember it clearly. no one ever argues that much! he had said in his characteristically level voice, although his sheer conviction admittedly terrified you. and in true best friend fashion, when he eventually was proven very right, he made you buy him a milkshake.)

now, as you savor the almost ethereal sight of jeno wiping your cum off his chin, you now know sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too.

“got more left in you?” haechan asks nicely, but you know it’s more of a command. “hope you’re ready to take two cocks at once.”

you’re still catching your breath, but it seems your body has already decided, as you nod quickly. “only one way to find out,” you croak. “but can we please do it on the bed?” haechan laughs at your insistence, but it’s the warm, melty, the in love kind of laugh.

“spoiled, are we?” is his reply, but both men help you up onto the bed. and it’s a goddamn blessing no one is thinking straight enough to notice that you’re about to get railed on the sheets your childhood crush sleeps on.

your cheeks are colored with both humiliation and anticipation as you settle on all fours—you’re really letting your cunt take charge, but who can blame you?

it seems haechan is being generous today, and he positions his cock between your lips and lets jeno kneel behind you.

“ready?” he asks you quietly, tipping your chin up with an index finger. it’s almost intimate, tender, save for the fact you are about to be fucked in two holes.

instead of answering, you lean forward and take his cock in your mouth, at first shallowly to tease him a little. the weight is warm and familiar on your tongue, and you suck hard around his weeping cockhead.

“shit, fuck,” haechan groans, carding a hand through his hair.

jeno doesn’t miss a beat. he slides his cock in between your pussy lips a few times for prep before you feel him push in first slowly, then all at once.

your eyes roll back into your head. fuck, you knew jeno was big—but not that big.

you moan around haechan’s dick, and he pushes right back into your throat, causing you to gag.

“aw, shit, sorry,” haechan says, tucking your hair behind your ears and moving his hands to cradle your cheeks. “jeno, what are you waiting for? don’t you know how to treat a lady?”

“actually,” jeno starts. he’s trying to sound casual, but you hear the grit of his teeth as you pulse around him. “i was going to ask you the same thing. how is she so fucking tight if you guys fuck all the time?”

he rocks out and then in again, still shallowly as you adjust to his girth. you swear you can feel every goddamn vein on his dick with how he’s splitting you open.

you don’t want to stop sucking haechan off, but you are seriously wrecked—something about jeno’s voice is dark, dangerous, and you really want to cum again.

“jeno, please,” you finally say, trying not to sound too desperate.

and so he fucks into you properly, hips slamming into your ass and hands digging into your sides, enough to bruise. those damn soccer players, you briefly think, but he makes sure even that thought is fucked out of you.

the momentum has you mouth fucking haechan, who has his eyes wrenched shut in pleasure. you can’t take your eyes off him—he’s so pretty, moaning loud as you suck him off hard.

“he’s ruining my view,” jeno tells you, jerking a thumb at haechan.

“fuck you,” he replies. “never inviting you to a threesome again.”

and you would deeply resent the fact that it’s not just haechan who can’t read the room if you weren’t grateful you still had the wherewithal to laugh for a brief moment before you keen in pleasure again.

it seems like jeno’s close, with the way he’s fucking you more erratically. your throat squeezes around haechan as you struggle to keep a lid on your moans; every time you take him down that far, you feel the glorious feeling of his hands wrenching up in your your hair, hear the voice you love so much.

jeno’s quick and dirty—when you feel his dick twitch in you as he gets closer, he reaches between your thighs and presses your clit ever so softly.

“oh fuck, jeno, fuck, fuck,” you cry out as haechan’s dick slides out of your mouth with a slick pop. he sits back on his feet and lazily strokes himself, content with watching you get railed hard.

“close?” jeno asks, applying more pressure to your clit. he slows his pace, instead deciding to fuck you deep and hard.

you hang your head, thighs shaking and voice quivering. “so close, jeno— please—” blinking through teary eyes, you watch haechan’s hand twist over his cock so expertly, and you revel how he also takes pleasure in how utterly fucked out jeno’s cock has made you.

with another careful touch to your clit, jeno sends you over again, dick hard against your walls and moving so slowly you can feel every inch of it. you cum so hard, he groans when you clench around him, and he cums like this too and fucks you through both your orgasms.

“h-haechan, it’s so much,” you moan, gripping at the sheets with white knuckles.

“yeah? jeno, fill her up,” haechan orders, and god, it’s so good, so warm and wet and sloppy in your spent pussy.

you’re shaking, and you can feel jeno’s cum leaking out of your hole as his dick slides out. “haechan...” you manage. “you didn’t cum.”

you look up, only to see him smiling. “oh, you didn’t think we were done yet, did you?”

you swallow hard.

“watch and learn, jeno.” haechan positions himself behind you.

jeno, already satisfied and basking in the warmth of his orgasm, is content with laying back against the headrest and watching (how does he still look like a greek god?).

first haechan grabs a fistful of your hair, then pushes you into the sheets. you can’t help but whimper a bit. he’s been rough before—but something tells you he wants to put on a real show.

and then you feel his other hand come down hard on your ass.

“fuck,” you moan into the pillow. you’ve cummed twice now, but your hole clenches in anticipation. you feel more cum leak out of your hole and onto the bed. there’s more on the apex of your thighs, warm and milky and sticky.

“jeno, you seeing this?” haechan asks, horribly confident grin plastered on his face.

“fuck—” jeno’s hand finds his cock again, and he starts playing with himself.

he slaps your ass again, and you keen into the sheets. then his hand rubs over your skin, hot and smarting, and it takes everything you have not to lean up into his touch.

haechan slides his dick between your lips, coating it with cum. “you wanna get filled up, huh? walk home with cum down your legs?”

“p-please...need you to cum in me.” you’re humiliated, this is absolutely mortifying. the words just fall out of your mouth without a second thought, but part of you loves it, and you know your boyfriend does too. and jeno is staring so hard, you’re surprised no one’s told him to take a picture so it lasts longer.

with your head in the sheets and your hole literally dripping, he fucks you. hard. harder than jeno, who seemed to retain a bit of romance and apprehension.

you cry out, muffled by the pillow.

“he said i don’t fuck you hard enough,” haechan says to you, jaw clenched. “what do you think?”

you can’t even form a complete sentence, and you just whine into the pillow. your voice comes out in bursts, like he’s knocking the sound out of you.

haechan would never let you forget how good he is with his hips, and with every time he draws back and fucks into you, you swear you’ve never felt anything better.

“fuck, you’re still so tight,” he swears. “bet you like this, huh, slut? just a fucking cocksleeve for us?”

“mm—mhm—”

then he pulls you up by your hair, and your back arches up, causing his dick to angle so good against your walls, hitting your g-spot just right.

“fuck—yes, yes,” you gasp. “please please please please—”

“what’re you asking for, honey?” haechan asks, cruelly pulling out to fuck his cockhead between your thighs, all sloppy with cum. “what do you think she wants, jeno?”

you glance over and see jeno stroking himself off, eyes transfixed on you. and unlike anything you had ever thought possible, he leans forward to clasp your jaw in his big hand. the added weight alone parts your lips slightly, and all you can do is gaze back at him with your glazed over eyes as you feel haechan’s rock hard cock fuck itself between your legs.

“use your words,” he tells you, thumb pressing right on your tongue so you can feel him. and you pray, pray, no one ever talks about this day again because you whine so loud, you think you might as well have woken mark up from his coma on the couch.

“f-fill me up,” you babble. “need your cock, channie.” and the second jeno takes his palm out from under your chin, you buckle back into the sheets with the impact of haechan bottoming out into you.

“fuck, you’re already knocked up with jeno’s cum. can you take another load? huh?”

“y-yes, yes.” you close your eyes tightly, bracing for another orgasm. his dick is swallowed by your fluttering walls, all you feel is tight, warm, and messy for him.

“so fucking good for me, huh? pussy’s gonna look so pretty all plugged up, fuck.”

you take a hazy glance to your side and see jeno’s hips canting up into his fist. you think about how his dick is covered in you and it sends sparks to your cunt.

you can tell haechan is close too, as his rhythm falls apart and he just fucks you deep and hard.

“kiss me,” you breathe, propping yourself up on your forearms to look back at haechan. through the waves of pleasure rocking through your body, you can even admire him now, his broad chest and the way he looks at you with such devotion.

and when he leans towards you, desperate and eager with love, to seal your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy, it offers jeno a glimpse of what your relationship is really like. haechan moans into your mouth, submitting easily to your touch, and you can hear jeno’s cry when he cums on his chest (the damn hopeless romantic).

but you’re no better, and as haechan catches your bottom lip between his teeth, you both hit your high, and you feel his cum shoot up into your hole. it’s so warm and wet feeling, and you wonder if it’ll feel like that for days.

you collapse onto your stomach. walking seems like a distant dream, and your entire lower body feels like wet jello. but it doesn’t matter, because haechan plants a kiss on the top of your head and all feels right in the world.

“where are you going?” you croak as you feel jeno’s weight leave the bed.

“i’m getting you a wet towel. you guys can stay here and keep being all gross or whatever.” jeno slips his briefs on and opens the bedroom door. “you’re welcome, by the way.”

“still uninvited from the next threesome,” haechan calls after him, laughing when jeno merely flips him off in reply.

you’re drifting in and out of what just might be the fattest nap of your life when you hear mark holler from downstairs.

“shit man, where’d your clothes go?!”

jeno doesn’t respond.

“what the fuck did i miss!”

you and haechan can only laugh.

[radiance1]

I've been thinking about it for a good bit and, well. I've realized that because of my status as the originater of said idea I, in fact, can make an alternative route to said idea.

Alright, so we know that Danny can turn into an eastern dragon, and that prince Aragon, who can turn into a western dragon, wants to marry him because of that and also political power and status.

So, what if Danny lost that battle? The battle that nailed it in the coffin that he had to run away from the life he was currently living because Aragon somehow managed to get on a level of strength where he could beat Danny and marry him?

Danny quite literally had to be dragged kicking and screaming when the day he had to marry Aragon came. He didn't care who it was, he clawed, bite, hit and wailed at every ghost who came to escort him, so much so that the Observants called Aragon to put him back into submission.

Sure, before this Danny didn't have a great opinion of them, nor a terrible one. But after this, whatever opinion he had of them took a nosedive through the earth so hard it appeared in the depths of outerspace.

Not physically but still, you get the point.

Prince Aragon basically acted like he was the Ghost Prince and Danny was his consort. Even though it was the other way around. He used his newfound political power to take back over the kingdom his sister stole from him.

(They did have to form new crowns, though. Since the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage wasn't even royal property but stuff Priah Dark just, well, had and nobody wants to wake him up again either.)

Aragon was a cruel, arrogant and ill-tempered man, he wasn't great to his sister and he wasn't great to Danny either. If Danny disagreed with him, he would just force him to agree though physical might.

Danny could not care less about that man, and if he could he would kill him. But since you can't kill ghosts he just had to deal with it. Aragon refused to let him leave the zone, a decision that Danny didn't agree with and with all the things Danny didn't agree with when it came to Aragon, it came to a fight.

Which Aragon wins.

(Danny hated that man with a passion, he put a goddamn collar on him. One that prevented him from speaking, prevented him from wailing.)

So Danny had to stay in the Ghost Zone, in Aragon's Kingdom. Unable to see his family and friends, unable to go to school, unable to live a normal life.

The only ally he felt he had was Dorathea, who was basically stuck in the same position he was. They grew a great deal closer, stuck under Aragon, since they were family now at least it was with someone Danny could say with certainty he liked.

His family and friends tried to get him out of this, they failed, Aragon was much too powerful for them to fight, even if he was with them, he lacked the one thing that proved a massive threat to Aragon. He didn't want them to die, so he quite literally pleaded and begged for Aragon to spare them.

Aragon did.

He liked seeing one of the catalysts that put into motion his fall from grace begging beneath him. Pleading with him to spare mere humans, it was all the sweeter and amusing to watch him do so when not a sound could leave his lips.

Danny just holed himself up in his room, it was a lavish room, really. With a giant bed, fluffy pillows and sheets, and decorations made of probably expensive stuff. Danny couldn't really find it in himself to actually care about whatever was in his room, he just slept, ate occasionally, limited the only person to enter his room being Dorathea (Not that Aragon cared, if he wanted something he would just force his way in, really.), and unwillingly attend whatever ball or party Aragon would throw, be sad about how Dorathea was sent prevented from seeing him.

That was how it would be for no doubt eternity. The husband of a certified asshole who didn't care for him and saw him as an accessory at best.

He cursed the Observants, who condemned him to this fate.

Until one day, like any other, were Danny laid around. He got summoned, how? He didn't know. No one was even supposed to know he existed since he never did anything to put himself out there or any options to summon him.

He was in human form when he appeared on the other side. He wasn't in the ghost zone anymore, he knew, yet it still seemed like a fantasy. He didn't who summoned, why or how they managed to do so, he was just happy.

Another group busted through the doors and into the room, fighting against the people who summoned him. It was a quick fit, the summoners folding easily under the assault of the other group.

Want to know what the funniest thing was?

The people who summoned him, did so on accident trying to summon Pariah dark.

It was, so funny to him that he just. Broke down laughing. Sure, it sounded more like pained wheezing perhaps, but he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation he found himself in, he laughed and held onto his stomach, curled into a ball, even.

Because hey, some guy who smokes in a brown coat just told him that he was summoned on accident!

And then promptly started crying.

[violetsteve]

A companion piece to the makeout fic (though both can be read as stand alones). Also posted on AO3 here!

If someone would’ve told Robin three years ago that not only would Steve “the hair” Harrington be her very best friend, but she would also go on to fight evil Russians and demonic bats with him and live to tell the tale, she would’ve laughed in their face.

Actually, she probably would have given a very obnoxious, very nervous laugh, and then ran in the opposite direction because obviously that person was either insane or under the influence of something very bad.

Still, they would have been right. Steve is her very best friend. She would move mountains for him. She would walk into the fiery depths of the upside down to pull his sorry ass out. She wouldn’t even hesitate.

But goddamn is she tired of seeing his stupid fucking turned on face.

***

Robin admits that she enjoys DnD nights more than she thought she would—which is to say she thought she wouldn’t enjoy them at all.

The truth is, though, they’re fun. It’s the one time where they can all get together and just be. They don’t all play DnD, but all of them are typically clustered in the same room, strewn over couches and scattering about the floor, all just spending time in the same space without the pressure of the impending end of the world hanging over their heads.

Plus, it’s kinda fun to watch the nerds play DnD. Eddie gets so into it, and in turn so does the rest of the table. Robin has to admit that Eddie is good at this—dragon mastering or whatever.

She’s not entirely sure what he’s making the kids battle right now—thinks maybe it’s a goblin army—but Eddie is perched with his feet on his chair, crouching down and making slight growling noises as his goblins attack the kids. He’s got his fingers curled into claws and when he speaks he sounds ridiculous. It’s embarrassing, is what it is. His voice is somehow growly and squeaky, high pitched as he bares his teeth at the group clustered around the table.

Eddie looks so much like a gremlin in this moment that it makes Robin cackle. Eddie is being an absolute weirdo, and she turns to share in her delight with Steve, only—

Jesus fuck does she regret looking over at him. Steve is very obviously paying attention to Eddie’s actions right now, just like Robin had been, but there’s a very definite difference to the kind of attention Steve is paying.

Steve’s eyes are already hooded and slightly unfocused when Robin looks over, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his index and middle finger tap a staccato rhythm against his thigh and—

“Steve, gross,” Robin whispers harshly, her whole body recoiling.

Steve’s gaze cuts to hers, a slight look of confusion clouding his face.

“What?” He whispers back, but Robin can tell he’s only half in the conversation. He’s got his head turned towards her, but his gaze keeps drifting back towards Eddie—pulled almost as if by magnetic force.

Robin wants to throw herself off the nearest tall surface.

“Do not tell me you are turned on right now. If you tell me you are turned on by Eddie doing that—” Robin gestures to where Eddie is still crouching on his chair, his fingers now forming dancing hooks in the air in front of him as he speaks in that warbling, growly tone, “—I will gouge my eyes out with my own fingernails, I swear to God.”

Steve’s fingers still against his thigh, his posture going rigid. Slowly, so slowly, he brings his gaze to meet Robin’s head on. He seems to debate something with himself before he says—

“Do you want to go shopping for sunglasses before or after you’re blind?”

Robin shrieks.

Steve laughs the entire time the rest of the room tries to assure that Robin is not dying. To be fair, she’s not entirely convinced she’s not.

***

Robin and Steve are ¾ of the way through their shift at Family Video when Eddie strolls through the door, promptly making Steve forget he’s at his job—making him forget that despite what it might look like to the outside viewer, they do have things they have to get done before they can leave.

“Eddie!” Steve crows, and the smile on his face is so big that Robin forgets to be annoyed for a second. It’s just, God she’s so happy for them. They’re disgustingly cute, and she’ll never forget how supportive Steve was when she started dating his ex. He deserves just as much support in his relationstion.

Plus, she just likes seeing him happy. Though if anyone ever asks, she’ll never admit it. She’d dove into a creepy lake to pull his ass back through a hell dimension portal, but admit that she has a vested interest in his happiness? Gross, absolutely not.

Eddie makes his way to the counter where they’re processing returns, or, more accurately, where they were processing returns. Steve isn’t doing anything except staring at Eddie like he was the one who put all the stars in the sky.

She’s so going to make fun of him for it later.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter, effectively putting himself in Steve’s space.

It’s like Robin doesn’t even register. Has Robin mentioned how gross they are?

“I have something for you,” Eddie says, removing an arm from the counter to dig around in his pocket. After a moment, he makes a little victorious noise. He pulls his hand out, something grasped in his fist, and holds it out to Steve. Steve hovers his own hand under Eddie’s, palm up.

Robin watches as something small and shiny drops into Steve’s hand. It looks like gold, but Robin knows that’s ridiculous.

What she doesn’t know, however, is what it actually is. She reaches out to take it from Steve, saying, “What even is that?”

Only, her hand barely even stretches across the counter before Eddie is hissing at her. Full on teeth bared, hissing.

She lets out a startled yelp, yanking her hand back to her side as she looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

For a moment, everything is silent and still. Robin is just about to comment a very polite ‘what the fuck,’ when Steve blurts—

“Baby, no offense, but what the fuck?”

Eddie looks up at Steve with wide eyes of his own. “That was really weird, wasn’t it? Sorry, Robin.”

And the thing is, Robin can tell Eddie is genuinely asking. She can tell that in Eddie’s head, it isn’t even something he thinks could be weird, just something he does—instinctive. Robin, however, has literally never been hissed at like that by a human.

It’s so, so weird, and Robin turns to Steve, naively thinking that Steve is going to patiently explain it to Eddie—explain that Robin is curious by nature and they share everything and Eddie shouldn’t hiss at her. She gets one look at his face and realizes that that is very much not the case.

Steve has both lips tucked between his teeth, his mouth a firm line of consternation, and a flush in his cheeks. He’s very clearly dismayed, but Robin can’t figure out why. Is he embarrassed of Eddie? Robin immediately dismisses the thought. Steve is hard to embarrass in general, and she’s never seen him be embarrassed because of something weird Eddie has done, animal noises included. In fact, normally he’s—

“Steve,” Robin whines when she puts it together. Steve isn’t embarassed, he’s fucking horny from Eddie’s little display. Robin hates him so, so much.

“Sorry,” Steve croaks, and Christ he’s blushing. He’s refusing to meet her gaze and he’s blushing. There’s a flush making its way up Steve’s neck, slowly filling out his cheeks and Robin hates him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin mutters. “You are unbelievable.”

Robin can see Eddie’s gaze darting between the two of them in her peripheral vision, obviously trying to work out what’s happening—what silent conversation is passing between them.

Steve lets out a small squeak that might, in some languages, pass as a feeble ‘yeah,’ before he’s reaching across the counter and fisting a hand in the front of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie lets out a startled squawk as Steve starts tugging him along the outside of the counter—arm extended across it as he walks down one side and pulls Eddie down the other.

“Gonna take 15, Rob.” Steve doesn’t even look at her when he says it. He has a single minded focus on getting himself and Eddie to the break room as fast as possible.

Robin’s too busy plotting her own murder to remember that Steve already took his break. She didn’t even get to see what Eddie gave Steve. She hates everything.

***

Steve and Robin are in the middle of a conversation when the most baffling thing happens.

Well, it’s baffling to Robin. Steve doesn’t even seem phased. Or, well, he does, just in a vastly different way.

She’s in the middle of lecturing him about the proper way to flip pancakes, Steve rolling his eyes—it’s like she serves raw pancakes one time and suddenly she’s banned from the stove forever, nobody even got sick!!—as he continues to flip with a spatula.

Seriously, Robin is so sure if he just twisted his wrist in the right way it would do a sick flip in the air and land right back in the pan. What’s the point of him playing all those sports if he can’t display some basic hand eye coordination?

Anyway, her point is, she’s in the middle of lecturing Steve about the correct way to flip pancakes when Eddie walks into the kitchen, waltzes right up to Steve, and just bites him. Completely unprompted. Like his whole purpose of walking in the kitchen was to sink his teeth into Steve’s bicep.

Steve lets out a startled yelp, the spatula swinging dangerously close to Robin's face as he spins around.

Robin waits for the “what the fuck,” maybe even anger. She’d probably be mad if someone bit her. She waits, but it never comes.

Instead, she watches as Steve stares at Eddie, his face weirdly intense. Eddie states back, a wide eyed, falsely innocent look stealing over his features.

The air in the kitchen is so still for a second Robin is sure she could hear a pin drop from three rooms away, and then—

Steve reaches out, fists the hand not still gripping a spatula in the front of Eddie’s shirt, and tugs. He tugs hard enough that Eddie goes stumbling forward, catching himself on Steve’s chest and oh god his lips.

Robin is forced to witness Steve sticking his tongue in Eddie’s mouth. She has to watch with her own eyes as Steve slots his mouth over Eddie’s, apparently not wanting to waste any time before he shoves his tongue past Eddie’s lips.

Robin lets out a high pitched, disbelieving laugh. She cannot believe them. She feels like she’s going insane. Why does this keep happening to her?!

And the worst part? Robins isn't sure if she’s more upset about the burnt pancakes, or that this is the third time she’s seen Steve stick his tongue down Eddie’s throat in less than two days.

***

“I just think it’s fascinating.”

“Robin, please. Not this again.”

Robin gives Steve a mean look from her seat across the booth. Honestly, sometimes she cannot believe him.

“Steve. Steven. Listen to me. I have had to witness your horny face—” Steve’s face twists up at this, a displeased turn to his lips, “—more times in the last three weeks than I have the entire time I’ve known you. Do you realize how insane that makes me feel?” Robin throws her hands out, gesturing at the general air around them because she needs Steve to see her point. She needs him to pay attention right now.

“Do you realize how insane it makes me feel to hear you talking about my horny face?”

Robin reaches across the table and flicks Steve’s nose. Steve lets out an irritated noise, but his face otherwise remains relatively level.

Robin would like to know why he’s being so stoic on the topic. She feels totally certifiable.

“Steve, I’m being serious.” She’s whining again, she knows, but she thinks maybe if she whines enough Steve will give in. He’s always been a sucker for a particularly good pouty face. “I want to talk about it. If you’re going to keep forcing me to witness it, I deserve the answers I so crave.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Nobody is forcing you to witness it, Robin.”

Robin snorts. “You literally are. Like, you’re doing it right in front of me with no warning. One second I am just standing there, minding my own business, and the next you’re giving Eddie your come hither eyes.”

Steve makes that face again—the one where his mouth twists up—and flicks a fry at her. She fumbles with it, but eventually manages to catch it and throws it in her mouth.

“Gross,” Steve says, but she can tell he’s trying to fight a smile. “Do not ever say—” Steve drops his voice a couple octaves, “—come hither to me again.”

“Okay, fine,” Robin gives easily. “But only if you give me details. Is it a honeymoon phase thing? Are you just constantly on the cusp of ripping Eddie’s clothes off all the time because it’s new and exciting?”

Steve bites his bottom lip, averting his eyes. He’s clearly embarrassed, which Robin thinks is so weird. Her and Steve have basically zero secrets. They’re worryingly codependent, and hardly ever get embarrassed around each other.

Sure, sometimes Steve annoys the shit out of her, but she also went to him for sex tips. Eddie makes jokes about them being the twins from The Shining and they both laugh because it’s not exactly false.

So, it’s a little startling to see Steve acting so timid, so demure, but she’s pretty sure she knows why. She has a theory.

“It’s a weird thing, isn’t it?” She asks before Steve can try and change the topic like he so clearly is gearing up to do. He doesn’t say anything in response, but that’s okay. Robin has always been able to talk enough for the both of them.

“It’s like…Eddie does something weird and you like it, right?” Steve’s cheeks are growing redder by the second, and Robin’s first instinct is to crow in victory—she’s absolutely nailed it—but she holds back. “I think I’ve figured that bit out, but what I can’t figure out is why that embarasses you, why you’re ashamed of being into Eddie’s quirks.”

Steve huffs. “That’s not it,” he says, running a hand through his hair, messing up the artful swoop he had it in that morning. “I’m not, like, embarrassed by being into Eddie or the weird things he does. I actually really like them, as you’ve been so obvious about pointing out. I just…” Steve trails off, looks away from Robin.

He’s thinking, clearly weighing something is his mind. The more he ponders it, the more Robin can see him working himself into something truly upset.

“I like them because it’s Eddie, I think. He’s always so unapologetically himself, and that makes me—” Steve cuts himself off, seems to cut that whole train of thought off as he plants his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands.

Steve mumbles something into his hands, his shoulders a tense line of misery. Robin almost feels bad about forcing him to talk about this. Almost.

“Steve, babe, I have no idea what you just said.”

Steve lifts his head, his miserable eyes meeting Robins. “Do you remember about five weeks ago at Family video, how you accused me of being past crush territory? Verging on love?”

Robin nods. She does remember. She had been mostly joking, but she has a feeling that maybe she wasn’t entirely off the mark, even back then.

“Well, you weren’t exactly wrong. Rob, I am. I’m so in love with him I don’t know what to do with it. I think I fully accepted it that night I kissed him, and it’s been scaring me ever since.

“God, Robin. I’m terrified. I’m constantly on the verge of telling him I’m in love with him. Every time he does something that’s just so unapologetically Eddie I want to fucking scream ‘I’m so in love with you it makes me act stupid.’” Steve buries his face in his hands again after his little rant.

“So, just curious…what’s stopping you?”

Steve’s head shoots back up and he gives her an incredulous look. “Robin, we’ve been dating for three weeks. Don’t you think its a bit fucking soon?”

Robin contemplates this. It is fast, but honestly she’s seen the two of them together. It’s disgustingly domestic already. Plus, she doesn’t think Eddie is the type of person to reject Steve’s feelings even if he isn’t quite there himself yet.

Robin tells Steve as much.

“Robin, I need you to understand that I love Eddie when I say these next words, okay?” Steve waits until she nods before he continues. “Eddie is a runner.”

Robin goes to cut him off because yes, he was, but he’s not anymore—he’s gotten so much better about it—but Steve holds a hand up to halt her interruption.

“He is. He’s gotten better about it, absolutely, I won’t deny that.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, his expression contorting with a pain that Robin is sure is entirely emotional. “But his flight or fight response still tends to tick more towards the flight, and if I tell him I love him after three weeks, I—” Steve cuts off, runs a hand through his hair again.

Robin isn’t sure she’s ever seen him this distressed, not even at the end of the world. Steve’s always been eerily level headed in bad situations—at least in the time she’s known him—so this is a bit startling for Robin.

“Robin, he’s terrified of getting too attached and I’m desperate for love. It’s a deadly combination.” Steve closes his eyes for a moment, pausing. Robin doesn't interrupt—she can tell he’s building to something.

“Did you know he’s run away from home three times? Like,” Steve waves a hand around, “before all the upside down stuff.”

Robin shakes her head no. She’d had no clue.

“Twice, when he was still living with his dad. Once with Wayne. Do you know Wayne knows he likes boys? Knows he’s currently dating a boy?”

Robin shakes her head no again, but Steve is jumping topics so fast it’s making her head spin. It feels like he keeps opening loops and forgetting to close them. She has no idea how one question relates to another.

“Well, he does. Wayne just accepted that. Just accepted Eddie completely, without hesitation.” Steve rubs a hand over his mouth. Robin can tell he’s shaking his leg under the table in a very un-Steve like way—the whole table is shaking with it. “Robin. Wayne accepted Eddie completely. He-he loved every part of him, and he still ran away from him. He ran away because it doesn’t hurt as much when you’re the one leaving instead of being the one left behind and he’s been left behind so many times.”

And oh, okay. Robin gets it now. Steve is slowly closing the loops, allowing her to realize what’s happening in his head.

“Robin he makes me so fucking happy. He makes me feel like I have a-a shot at a good fucking life, no matter how plain it turns out to be. I’m terrified I’m going to push and push, a-and take and take and he’s going to realize that he’s in way over his head with me and that I’m too much and then it’s—” Steve cuts himself off again with a sound achingly similar to a dry sob. Robin regrets cornering him in a crowded diner.

She's not a particularly touchy feely person, never has been, but sometimes she knows that’s what Steve needs. She knows that she would take on the world for him, so a little physical affection has never been difficult for her when it comes to comforting him, and she wants nothing more than to wrap Steve up in her arms right now, provide any comfort she can because she knows that, ultimately, what Steve is saying is true.

Steve has never been blind to his own flaws. In fact, he’s always been acutely aware of them. She thinks that’s why it was so easy for him to grow, to learn once he distanced himself from the expectations of his father and his shitty highschool friends. He’s always known where his weak points are, and they both know he used them as daggers in highschool. Used them to twist himself up into something he wasn’t in order to hide them. He’s different now, wears his flaws as a badge of honor instead of a reason to cause harm, but they both know he’s still startlingly aware of them. They’re both aware they twist Steve up inside, cutting him like the barbed words he used to use.

Steve is desperate for love. It’s in the way that Steve blooms under compliments, it’s in the way he’s always trying. Over and over. Even when they all dog him for messing up, for saying something stupid, he still tries.

It was in the way he tried so hard to encourage Robin to pursue Vickie, even if that ended in heartbreak. It’s in the way he supports Robin dating his ex. It’s in the way he leans into every casual touch, in the way he seeks out constant company.

And it’s in the way he is with Eddie, now. Once she’s removed the layer of fond disgust, she can see what’s been there the whole time.

Steve loves Eddie. He loves him with a desperation that’s bordering on obsessive because that’s just the way Steve loves. Nobody ever taught him moderation—nobody took the time to tell Steve that loving someone with your entire heart and more is just a direct pipeline to getting your heart broken.

Robin knows that Steve has only loved one other person like this, and that the end of that relationship rocked his very foundation.

Steve confessed to her, once and only once, that losing Nancy had quietly devastated him. In hindsight, he realized that they both had unrealistic expectations for each other and he’d been clinging on to a fractured relationship way before they finally shook apart, but Robin will never forget the tone of Steve’s voice when he told her that Nancy Wheeler had broken his heart.

Robin’s long since talked to both Nancy and Steve about the subject—didn’t quite believe Steve when he’d said he was over her, back when Robin had been harboring her own shameful crush—and knows that Steve and Nancy had had their own discussion on the break up, that they’d made their own amends and knew the fault didn’t lie with just one party.

Still, Nancy’s voice was eerily similar to the quiet devastation of Steve’s when she admitted that Steve had told her he loved her so much he hated her. Robin would be lying if she said that didn’t break her heart.

Robin’s point is: she knows Steve is desperate for love, but she’s never seen him run from it. She knows he’s only ever been in love like this once before, knows it took him years to get over Nancy Wheeler, but it’s never stopped Steve from trying.

Robin can put a lot of the pieces together, but she just can’t figure out why Steve is hiding—why he’s holding himself back so much when he’s always loved so openly before—but maybe it’s the thought of Eddie running from that love that scares him. Sure, Nancy didn’t return the love, but she didn’t turn tail and run from the way Steve loves. She eased him out of it, and Robin can admit to herself that seeing someone actively run from the love you’re giving them is much different from them simply not returning it.

“It’s what, Steve?” She prods gently, focusing her thoughts back on the present, on Steve’s turmoil playing out in front of her.

“It’s like what do I do with myself at that point? I’m not—“ Steve bites his lips, squeezes his eyes shut for a second before blinking them back open, “I’m not good at a lot, Robbie, I know that. And one of those things is holding back. I-I don’t know how to make myself less. How to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel so suffocated by me that he runs.”

Steve’s eyes are suddenly desperate when he says, “how do I make myself less, Robin? How do I not scare Eddie off?”

Robin‘s heart breaks all over again. She reaches across the table, taking one of Steve’s clenched hands into both of her own. How does she make Steve see that Eddie won’t do that. She doesn’t know how she knows, but she just does.

“Steve, that’s not—look, you don’t have to change yourself for Eddie. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. I’ve seen the way both of you light up when the other walks in the room. Quite frankly, it’s gross.” Robin squeezes Steve’s hand, making sure he’s looking at her when she says this next part.

“Steve Harrington, I have been forced to witness your reactions to the weird, weird things Eddie does and the way Eddie just blooms under that attention. I have watched that boy turn into a gooey mess when you show him the slightest bit of attention.

“Steve, talk to him. I can almost guarantee it’ll turn out better than you think.”

Steve’s eyes drop to their clasped hands, his shoulders still tight and impending heartbreak still clearly on his mind.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve murmurs, “I’ll think about it.”

***

It takes five days for Robin to realize that Steve took her advice and talked to Eddie. Five days spent in ignorant bliss.

Five days where she didn’t have the sight of Eddie and Steve having some very nerdy private time seared into her retinas.

Jesus Christ, was Steve wearing armor? What the fuck was that voice Eddie was using?!?

Robin hears Eddie’s dreamy ‘god I love you so much’ and Steve’s very enthusiastic response as she high tails it out of the house.

On her way down the porch, she wonders if there's such a thing as bleach for your senses. Eyes, ears, whatever. Anything to scrub her mind of what she just witnessed. Almost considers seeing if that Russian scientist is still wandering around with some kind of memory wipe serum.

She would buy the whole lot of it.

[amphiptere-art]

Black Star is sitting on one of the benches in the pizza plex. Seemingly almost falling asleep. Looks awkwardly painful but he seems comfy. He's awoken very abruptly by happy roars. Ravenous speeds past. Shaking the whole hallway. Black Star holding onto the bench to keep his balance until the rumbling stops. He lets out a exhausted sigh. Trying to comfy on the bench again. Ignoring the other footsteps that pass by. Believing there simply one of the others trying to keep track of ravenous. Although he stiffens in surprise on the footprints stop and a voice calls out to him.

Are you all right there? You don't look exactly comfortable? If you're taking a nap then shouldn't you go to your room and be in bed?

Black star snarls. Sitting up on the bench. His body tensing in an aggressive manner.

I'm fine where the fuck I am. Go chase your brother or whatever. Leave me alone.

DH Earth gets an angry face. Stiffening up and looking like she's going to follow Ravenous. Although she stops. She shakes her head with a snarl and looks back towards Black Star.

You know what. What is your problem!? I haven't done anything to you! I've heard a thousand times that you've had some issues in the past. Blue Moon's terrified of me. I'm not an idiot. But it's been months. It's been literal months and you still hold on to this anger. You fight with me and kick me out of every room! I have a right to feel comfortable here! I've been trying to respect your space. How about you give me some!

Black Star growls. Backing up further on the bench. Claws slightly unsheathing.

I don't have to give you anything! You already get everything in the world, All you earths do. You just have to stay away from me and my brother and there won't be any issues.

Well why don't you try and stay away from me for a change!

I have been!

No you haven't. The only time you do was when I am somewhere before you are there. But no if I walk in a room with you suddenly I have to get out.

That's fair! We're avoiding each other the same way.

And what if I have to go to the other side of the room. What if we're both invited. Every single time that's happened I'm the one kicked out. But no my brother gets to stay. Do you realize how much they whine about the fact I'm not there!

In my opinion they'd be better off without you.

Oh shut up! I'm not like your Earth. I don't care how similar our worlds are. I cared for a ravenous. I still care for ravenous! Why the hell can you not give me that!

Because all you Earths are a scam!

No we aren't! I'm an exception! I'm the difference! Every other Earth I've ever heard of is a kind, blind, bludgering idiot! Every other Earth in this goddamn multiverse can't even make up a lie for their own good. They might be truthful to a terrible fault, but they out of everyone are the most kind in this whole goddamn multiversal family! You're supposed to be the one that knows everything about the multiverse! How do you not realize this!

Black Star snarls. Standing up attempting to look intimidating to DH Earth. It does not come off well due to his smaller size. DH Earth holds her ground.

I do realize it and I don't care! I'm forced to be in your presence in three different dimensions! You could at least give me some care here.

Then can you give me some care!

DH Earth brings up her hands into fists. Clearly angry. Black Star attempts to back up. Falling down on the bench though forgetting it was behind him. Bringing his hands up defensively.

(And now I'm going to give a bit of a pause if you guys want to send over some sort of moderator. @digimonlover09 @sigery)

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟷

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

A/N - I’m writing this in tandem with the main series, so by the time we get to this point, you’ve got a gist of what’s going on :)

MASTERLIST

SURVIVAL

Dean had been having what was a more than rough day. He’d lost four soldiers in the past week to the Crotes, and he had no Sammy to turn to. No Bobby either, and it killed him. His hand struck the table, a curse leaving his mouth as he did so, bent over and wondering where to hit next.

It had barely been a year since Sam had agreed to Lucifer, saying the big ‘yes’ when he realised that his brother was no longer gonna be there for him. Since then, things were spiralling. Lucifer won. The only immune people were dead and they all turned out as psychos, if you don’t count that Andy kid who didn’t deserve to go out the way he did.

None of them did.

“Damn it.” His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to make heads or tails until he spotted a place they hadn’t covered yet that could be promising. He picked up a marker, circling it haphazardly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, D’Marco!” He yelled out, and one of his men poked his head through.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Rally the squad. We’re hitting Jersey City.”

I jumped over the hood of a car, taking out my machete and swinging as it caught a Croat by the neck, its head thudding to the floor. My eyes glowed red, a metal pole flying up and jabbing straight through the skull of another while I elbowed a third in the neck, going in and shooting point blank.

“God, I hate it here.” I growled, then I got clawed in the arm by one, familiar pain stinging my arm as I shot the assailant in the eye. I’d been fighting my way through this for close to a year, and I’d simply needed to raid the convenience for supplies and I got myself in this blasted mess. “This sucks ass.” I quickly disarmed an approaching Croat with a glow of my eyes and flick of my hand, taking its head and snapping its neck, an animalistic whine, almost like an injured dog, leaving it’s mouth before it flopped like a ragdoll onto the floor, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s a goddamn wasteland out here!” I heard someone yell, followed by rapid gunfire and yells of something that could be pain or stress. I got down before realising it wasn’t aimed at me, so I got back out, immediately pounced on by a Croat that I quickly put down by shooting it. I got up, replacing the clip. I needed to get back to my base and fast, otherwise whoever these guys were could be raiders.

Raiders were asses. They took what they wanted and didn’t care whose lives got lost. It sickened me. I growled under my breath, moving behind a building as I spotted the license plate of a Jeep.

“These are dead Croats, boss. Every last one of them.” A voice called out, followed by footsteps that were made more monstrous by the sound of crunching gravel. “Somebody was out here, killing ‘em.”

“Someone that good? C’mon Joey, be realistic. It has to be another team.” The group chuckled at the joke made by another member of their team, and I frowned in annoyance. I’m sorry, do they see anyone else out here? Actually, they could only see me out here, so it was a given. I peered around the corner, and saw that all of them had their backs to me. I crept up, careful not to crunch on the gravel until I reached the guy at the back, instantly hooking my arm around his neck and yanking him towards me, pressing the muzzle of my gun to his temple.

“Don’t move.” I warned, getting their attention. They spun around with weapons up, but the moment that they saw me with a gun to one of their own, they faltered slightly. “Tell me, who are you? Raiders? Those ragtag asses who think that this is a good thing? Speak up, one of you, now!”

“We’re survivors.” One of them spoke up, his voice gravelly. He looked rougher than the rest of them, his dirty blonde hair up on end in the face of danger and his green eyes stern. “Now let my man go, or I swear to God-”

“You’ll what, tough guy?” I scoffed. “You’ll what?”

“You’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

“Try me.” I growled, pressing the muzzle tighter to my captive’s head. “I dare you.”

“Pretty thing’s got lip on her.” One man scoffed, but one glare from me shut him up.

“Pretty little thing’s got a gun and one of your men, so better keep your mouth shut.”

“Who even are you?” The gravel-voice dude spoke up, a frown creasing his forehead. I looked him in the eye, my gaze steely.

“None of your damn business.” I replied aggressively, my finger tightening on the trigger.“Who’s askin’?”

“Dean Winchester, now let my soldier go, damnit!” I put the gun down, releasing his teammate as I decided that these guys could be ok. Then his teammate spotted the claw cut on my arm, and all hell broke loose.

“SHE’S INFECTED!” He yelled, and as all of them raised their guns to shoot me, I held out my hands in surrender, panic striking me for a moment.

“WOAH, HOLD ON, I’M IMMUNE!” I shouted, panting heavily. “I’M IMMUNE, OK?! I’m… clean.”

“You’d need to be some psychic freak in order to be immune.” Dean Winchester frowned, stepping forward and raising his gun, pointing it at me. “What kind are you? Actually, I shouldn’t even be asking that, cause all the psychic jackasses turned out to be whacked out of their gourds. What says you ain’t?”

“This entire graveyard is my doin’.” I reasoned, gesturing to the Croat’s bodies. “All me. I don’t know how I got my powers and why, but I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure and it’s that it’s kept me alive out here.” I paused to chuckle nervously. “Look, restrain me if you have the stuff to, but there’s no way in hell I’m stayin’ out here.” They took a moment to think, then Winchester pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. My eyebrows twitched, a small smirk on my face as he did so. “Damn, you have them on you, you kinky son of a-”

“Put them on.” He ordered while handing them over, his gun pointing to the cuffs then back to my face. I scoffed, laughing a bit as I clasped it over one wrist.

“Chivalry is dead, I see.” I snapped it over the other wrist, then held my bound wrists up for the other men. “Mysterious girl, bound so she can’t hurt you guys. What a relief. Now, uh, are we gonna book it or what?” I was promptly taken by the arm by Winchester, but I snatched my arm out of his grip with a grimace. “I can do it myself, we have no need for the manhandling type of chivalry.” I stepped up onto the Jeep, flopping down onto a seat as the rest of them got in. Winchester sat down in front of me, gun trained on me by chance I made a move. “Chill, Manchurian Candidate, I’m not gonna bust the spirit of Chuck Norris out and start kicking your ass on a moving car while handcuffed, I’m not stupid.”

He just stared at me.

“Alright, we’re gonna keep doin’ this until you give me a name, you hear me?” Winchester growled, and I shrugged, leaning back against my chair.

“And I think we’ll be here a while. Screw. You.” I retorted, obviously aggravating him as he ran a hand through his hair, glaring back at me.

“I told you my name, why won’t you tell me yours?!”

“I can’t trust you!”

“I saved your ass!”

“Oh, hell no, I saved my ass.” I scoffed. “Like I have been since this thing started. You’d have blown my head off otherwise.” He opened his mouth to contradict, but I shot him a look. “Don’t lie to me, I know what people look like when they’re on the verge of killin’ someone. How do I know? I see that goddamn face every day, sometimes in the mirror. M’not that easy to fool, Winchester.” I chuckled cynically, shaking my head. “Idjit.”

The look on his face changed, and he picked up his gun and held it to my forehead. “Where did you get that?!”

“The hell is wrong with you-”

He grabbed my face with one hand, forcing it up roughly. “WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

“My uncle used to say it, goddamn it!” I snapped. “I don’t know where he is, but we were separated in Sioux Falls.”

“Bobby.” Winchester whispered, and quickly let go of my chin, swallowing and looking away. “You’re Ivonne Rainer.”

“Not even gonna apologise?” I scoffed. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t.”

“He talked about you. Bobby.” He scanned me for a moment with something close to bitterness. “My dad did too. John Winchester. Came home one day when I was fifteen talking about the daughter of his hunting partner Michael Rainer, who’d showed up on a vamp hunt to help exterminate a nest in Louisiana. Bobby said you were one of the best hunters he’d known. That you?”

“Sounds like me.” I nodded. “John Winchester, yeah, I remember him. Real pompous ass.”

“Watch what comes out of that mouth of yours.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“At this point, you’re askin’ to be slapped.”

“But you won’t.” I smirked, obviously provoking him further. He got up close in my face, teeth gritted.

“I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your brain, you hear me? You’re just one more arrogant dumbass, you don’t mean anything to me. Besides, how’re you planning to fight back? You ain’t in no state to fight, not cuffed, so cut the attitude.”

“Might want to rethink that last statement.” I held up my hands, showing that I was free as the cuffs dropped from my wrists. He stared at the fallen handcuffs, shocked as I sharply pushed him back, standing up and rubbing the chafed skin where the cuffs once were. “What, think I can’t handle myself?” I tilted my head, smirking a bit. Then my gaze went to his gun, and my eyes glowed blue, the clip falling out as I flicked my hand down and zooming into my hand. Winchester stared at me again, his eyes flicking back to his gun occasionally as he tried to process what I’d just done. “Look, man, I ain’t no psycho. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have, no questions asked.”

“You spared me?” He scoffed, looking disbelieving.

“Bet your ass I did.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Then don’t.” I shrugged, looking him in the eye. “Cause I don’t give a damn whether you do or not. I care about survivin’. Actually livin’. And me being honest, I’m one of the last people left on earth who can actually protect all of you.”

“I just need you to stay out of my goddamn way.” He growled, fists clenched.

“Then… fine.” I raised my hands in mock surrender as I started retreating to the flap. “Like I said, don’t give a damn.” I dropped the clip of his gun, leaving.

Dean stared the spot where I just was, his teeth gritted before he slammed the table, yelling out.

“DAMN IT!”

[hailsatanacab]

@the-witchhunter - this is incredibly disturbing, i love it. fair warning, i took it more in the direction of that oglaf comic (nsfw) where Vlad fully doesn't realise that this is a love shrine, this is a completely normal thing that you do for your arch enemy!

———

“Daniel! I can explain!”

“Oh… my… God...”

“Daniel, really, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” Danny breathes, shocked and honestly kind of fighting down the urge to vomit. The thermos slips from his fingers and clatters to the ground, the sound echoing far too loudly in the enclosed space. “Because it looks like you have a shrine dedicated to my dad in your closet.”

“No, that’s not—it’s more complicated than that, Daniel. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t think I want to understand.”

“Your father is a ridiculous man, Daniel. I hate his stupid face so much. Look at him!”

Vlad turns back to the actual shrine, with actual candles and actual flowers and actual photos of his dad with… Holy crap, did Vlad cut out Mom in each of the photos? What the fuck? 

Wait… Look, Danny tries not to look too closely at the weird things Vlad has hidden around his mansion dedicated to his mom, but he’s fairly sure that the pictures of her he’s cut out (in heart shapes—yeah, Danny’s definitely going to barf) are the ones Vlad’s put in his other weirdo closet shrine that Danny also wishes he’d never seen.

“Why don’t you just have one shrine? Why have—no, you know what, I don’t want to know. I think I’m just gonna leave.”

Yeah, that sounds like the best option. Danny takes a cautious step back, very ready to get back home, bleach his eyeballs and maybe never look at his mom and dad ever again. Or, at least, not until he has successfully blocked this from his mind forever.

He only gets one foot out the door when Vlad lashes out and grabs him. The day just keeps getting better and better, really, doesn’t it? Even as he twists and turns, he can’t get out of Vlad’s ironclad grip and he’s pulled even farther into the closet. 

Panic rises in his throat as Vlad shuts the door—what the fuck is happening? He doesn’t want to be dragged into Vlad’s creepy shrine to his dad, what the fuck? What the fuck!

“I loathe your father, Daniel, I hate him with the very core of my being. Look at him!” 

There’s no goddamn way in hell Danny is looking at any of the pictures, no thank you. He squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he were somewhere, anywhere else, when Vlad jerks his arm forward so he comes nose-to-nose with the largest framed portrait of his dad in the very centre of the table, smiling with his doctorate and a very unfortunate 80s mullet. Dear God, no.

“I hate his smug face! I hate his stupid fashion sense, you have no idea how much I detest that orange jumpsuit of his, how much I want to claw it off him and tear it to shreds! If I have to listen to him say another boneheaded, idiotic, ridiculous thing, I will—I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth! You don't know how long I spend here looking at him, imaging all the ways I'll have him grovelling at my feet. One day, Daniel, I'll have him one day...”

———

The sun was going down when Danny finally managed to escape and find solace in Sam and Tucker. He's not going home. Not yet.

“Danny, are you okay? We were so worried, we couldn’t get hold of you for hours! Where were you?”

“Sam, Tuck… Vlad, he…”

“Holy shit, Danny, you’re shaking, are you alright? What happened, what did he do?”

“I think… I think he wants to fuck my dad.”

[tai-janai]

Reunite

Path 10: Validation

(Chapter Select)

Your head stings, even before your eyes open.

Voice of the Hero:

Sorry. I've been reaching more and more ends, quite a few have been making pairs.

"Then why does my head hurt?"

Voice of the Hero:

I mean, I'm in here. I'm kind of dying in all those worlds. It doesn't feel too great. Thought you'd be a little excited about all this.

You rub your forehead. You sigh dejectedly, then try to remember all the good you're doing.

"I am... I am. This is good, I'm happy for them."

Voice of the Hero:

And this is the last one, isn't it? Nobody else is after this.

You open your eyes to a rather reflective room. Everything is metal. It doesn't attack your eyes quite as much as the other shiny one, but it's a whole lot less welcoming. Even what you stand on seems like slabs of steel. A tilted table to the side holds the echo of the blade, blending in even more than usual.

You can tell this is the final imprisoned Being. You hope in vain that it won't be the hardest. You think about the large one with the eyes and chains. That one sucked. The stone one, the melting one, the first, nervy one.

But, you changed them. The outcome was different once you stepped in. It may be unfair on both ends, but you're working to even things out.

You feel everyone's support with you as you grab the blade's echo. As its weightlessness shifts in your grasp, you wonder if it is the last time.

You walk to the askew metal door. You are stopped before you grab the handle.

Voice of the Hero:

Hey.

Its tone is tender, and it soothes your growing worry.

Voice of the Hero:

I... I'm really proud of you. And even if - or when - this guy tears me out of your head, I'm always with you.

"And I'm glad you're there."

A happy glow warms your body as you and the Voice share a moment of serenity.

You take a deep, sure breath, and open the door.

The way down is decidedly not stairs. It seems to once have been a metal ramp, but had something carve down the middle of it. You try your best to take it slow, but everything is smooth, and any footholds are pointed and sharp. Everything smells like fire and metal.

You make it to the bottom, and you see the steely room. Right in the center of it, with the chain around its "neck," stands a bright, rangy Being.

Sharp, blood-red eyes stare at you. A pointed-toothed mouth is turned downward in a scowl. A heart beats behind a set of translucent ribs. Everything else is... a substance you can't quite understand.

Something between glass and metal, every part of it that was once skin is a jagged edge of a reflective, razor-sharp material. It looks like something that had been broken repeatedly, but continues to crash back together. Parts of this "skin" float around it in an orbit. Its fingers are very long and tapered, sharp like everything else, and stained with what you assume is blood. Beneath the beating heart is its legs, which seem joined at a single point on the ground, like it's balancing there at a pinpoint. Its head once had horns, but it is only shattered metal-glass.

Back for more?

Its voice is grating. Do you even want to fight this thing?

"More?"

It flashes its blade-like fingers and squints at you.

I had some issues with our first encounter. I'm glad you've come back so I can do it right this time.

"We've never met before, I don't want to fight."

Bloody liar.

With a disgusting screech of metal, it drags towards you, swiping with its claws. The noise is hell on your eardrums, but you dive out of the way just in time. Unfortunately, the floor is more jagged metal, and you cut your knee.

Voice of the Hero:

Shit, that was awful! Why's this one so angry??

With a crackle of bending metal, you turn and see the Being growing enraged.

Two against one!? You little demon, I'll tear you to goddamn atoms!

It extends a palm at you, and you feel the sense of something gripping you, holding you in place. You lock eyes with the Being as you are squeezed.

Voice of the Hero:

No, no! Stop- Agh!

With a sudden jerk, the constricting feeling falls, and you and the Other drop to the floor, separated once again. You hear a wicked laugh from the creature.

I'm the one in charge now, aren't I? I can finally get you back for all the bullshit you put me through.

You feel yourself convulsing, everything in you twitches and creaks. The Other at your side groans.

You grit your teeth, and your vision swims with rage.

You grab the echo once again. It had fallen when you were split. You can barely tell you have it in your grasp.

Though you ache, you rise to your feet, eyes fixated on the large creature.

"You think you're in charge? With that chain around your neck? Your heart is exposed, it wouldn't take much to get to it."

The Hero:

What?

In your mind echoes the same thought: What???

With a scraping growl, the Being charges again, swiping at you. You dodge one attack, but don't expect the second.

A shard of the metallic glass cuts into your arm.

Its the first time you've bled. Ever, even.

The Hero:

Stop! He didn't put you down here!

It slices at you again, and you deflect it with the, thankfully physical, echo.

What in the world are you on about?

It continues to clash blades with you and leave minuscule cuts along your limbs as it converses with the Other.

With a scrape, it leans away, and you catch your breath. What is this? You're fighting?

He put me here, and now he's trying to kill me. I'm just defending myself.

The Hero:

You are made of blades!!!???

Is the fight unfair? Does he have as much strength as he says?

What about your own?

You look at the echo you hold. It is nonexistent. What is deflecting the Being's attacks?

No, that's not right. It's there.

The Being lunges again, and you move beyond your own volition. You strike at its side, leaving a crack in its translucent ribs. The creature groans, a sickening sound of twisting metal.

You don't feel control over your own body. Do you have a choice? Why are you fighting?

"I want to free you."

The Being swipes at you, and you only barely evade its reach. It growls.

You're attacking me. Why won't you both just shut up!

It leans back and waves to the Other.

Better yet, why don't you try an' help me here? He wanted to lock you up too, just like he did to me!

The Hero:

I swear, he wasn't! I would know, I was in his head!

I'm sick of the lying!

With a swing of its arm, shards of its body go flying towards the other.

You shout in fear, but thankfully, it was only a warning, and the shards stick into the floor only a foot away from the Other's feet. He seems terrified, but okay.

You face the Being again. It is horrid. It has almost hurt the other part of you. You hate it.

You step forward.

This is what it's supposed to be, isn't it? You see the rage in its eyes. You want to plant your knife into its beating heart-

"NO!"

You fling the echo at the far wall, and the clang reverberates along the metal floor. The Being has flinched away from you.

You don't want to fight it, you want to save it.

Where are these conflicting thoughts coming from?

What's all this? You've given up? That's not a win!?

"I do want to free you. I do."

The Hero:

He isn't usually like this...

I don't care about being free, I want to win!

You see blades flash above you, and then they cut through you.

Not all the way, just across your front, leaving three large, disconnected streaks of red across your entire body. You don't feel it at first, the adrenaline numbing your body, but everything starts to sting.

Even if it isn't the worst, it is the most physical pain you've experienced. It is strange.

You fall to the floor, only barely able to catch yourself on wounded arms. Blood flows from everywhere. It is... so red.

Wh... Why are you so much weaker than you had been? What the hell is this?

You look at your bloody hands. It seeps through the indents of your scales. The fluid trails down your arm in lightning-shaped streaks. It hurts to bleed.

Your gaze turns up towards the creature, who scowls at you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't put you here."

Bullshit!

It screeches at you, but doesn't attack.

What is with this personality shift?? Get back up, if I'm gonna win, it's gonna be on my terms. You can't just throw in the towel once things aren't in your favor!

"You're right. But I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... attack you."

And what the hell does that mean?

You see its heart, bright crimson and pounding in its chest. Everything about the being is so dangerous, but its vital organ seems the least protected. You want to tear into it. But you want to hold it, and keep it safe.

The creature wants a fight, you have to give it to him.

No, you don't.

Your mind floods with the experiences from all of the other imprisoned Beings. You feel pulled along by a string, trying to force you to stand, but you kneel.

"Y-You must be in pain. After being trapped here so long, alone."

No shit it hurt! Get back up so I can cause you the same pain!

Your wounds bleed, but they don't hurt. You don't think that's what the Being is going for anyway.

The Hero:

Please, stop. Let us let you out of here.

Leave? Now that I've got power? Now that I... I can win!?

You combat the incessant thoughts. This creature has done nothing wrong.

With a shing of blades, razor-sharp fingers lift you by your armpits from your place on the floor. The sharpness cuts into you just enough to get a grip on you.

The win means nothing if you're not- If you aren't what I remember!

With bated breaths, you look into the creature's eyes. It is... quite a bit bigger than you. You see your blood trailing down its metallic arm.

You love this creature. You hate it. You want it dead. You want it safe. It hisses at you.

The moment I have power, you are limp and weak.

You are suddenly released, and you drop to the ground inelegantly. Your knees buckle and your head hits the metal. Its voice lowers, and starts to shake.

The moment I have anything, I...

With a heavy head, you lift yourself to look at it. It stares at its stained, sharp hands in horror.

You slowly bring yourself to your feet. Its pupils focus on you, and then follow the curved gashes across your body.

"I know you are angry. Your anger is justified. You deserve to kill me many times over."

Metal creaks as the Being closes in on itself.

Would that be enough? Would it ever mean anything?

"That's up to you."

Harsh scrapes bombard your eardrums as pieces of metal flare and swish through the air.

Are you what put me here? Why did I turn into this?

You step closer to it. Your steps are unsteady as your blood lubricates the smooth metal floor.

"I didn't put you here. I didn't make you this way."

With determination, you grab the creature's sharp, elongated fingers. You can feel their edge, but they do not cut into your flesh.

"We can change things. The pain can end. You can be free."

You can hear every thump of its heart, like a hammer to an anvil, concealed behind its veil of a ribcage. It speaks breathily. It sounds like it is far away.

I'm tired of waiting. I just want things to get better.

Pieces of it fall to the floor, clashing and shattering. You do not flinch at the jarring noise.

Why is everything different..?

The Being is weak. You are disgusted by it. You love it. You are afraid of it. You find comfort in it.

"To change in one way means it can change another."

The fingers you hold dig into you. You feel your skin give way.

Will it get better?

"It can."

You smile up at it. Your marred skin stretches.

"Isn't that incredible?"

Sparks fly as metal crushes and crumples. The horrid din rages through your mind, but it is soon joined by the familiar rustling of feathers.

You step back, releasing your hold on the Being's hand. You feel cool air where your skin was split.

Small hits of cartilage dragging against metal rise and fall. The being is shrunken down to a size like all of the others. A heavy chain clatters to the ground, and it echoes, the last of the noise.

You see a reflection of yourself, but this one is scarred and tattered. Its feathers are unkempt, its scales uneven and messy. It scratches at its skin. You exhale in relief.

The Other has rushed to your side, now that the danger is quieted.

The Cheated:

Maybe I... went a little too far.

"It's okay."

It winces and looks at your many bleeding wounds.

The Cheated:

Is it...?

With delicate hands, the Other feels your gashes. He mumbles under his breath.

The Hero:

I honestly didn't know if we could bleed, but I didn't want to actually find it out.

You place your bloody hand on the side of his face. He looks into your eyes, and you smile.

"Everything is fine. We should move on."

It steps out of your embrace, confused.

The Hero:

Move on? But, isn't this the end?

The Cheated:

The hell d'you mean, "move on"?

The Hero:

I've gotta- Well, I did, but- Um.

You look to the new one.

"There are other people we've managed to save. Would you want to meet them?"

It lights up, tattered feathers flaring with excitement.

The Cheated:

Others? Where? Why didn't you lead with that, not trying to stab me?

You blink, and remember. Your eyes dart around the room.

You feel watched.

The Hero:

Are you sure you're alright?

You nod. Your feet take you to the echo you tossed away. You grab it by the blade, so as to not get any of your blood on the hilt.

The Cheated:

And what's that for? Are you...

It quiets as you reapproach the Other. He hesitantly takes the echo from your grasp.

The Cheated:

I get to see the other people... But you don't? Even though you freed them?

You look at it, a little surprised that it pointed such a thing out, and then you grin.

"Your sense of justice is admirable."

It looks shocked in response. A wing flutters minutely. You look back at the Other.

"This is what comes next."

Your eyebrows furrow in determination. You don't want to die, but there is something that comes after. This isn't the end for you.

The new one pouts with worried discontent. You don't want to leave him.

The Other fiddles with the blade, and then comes to a decision. It mirrors your own look of determination.

You don't break your stare on the shining blade as it raises, and then...

The Other's empty fist hits your chest.

It shouts in confusion and pulls away, a spot of your blood from your other wounds is left on it. The knife is nowhere to be seen.

The Hero:

Huh? Where'd it go?

It looks around the floor around you, believing the blade fell from his hands somewhere in its arc.

The Cheated:

Did it just... Pop out of existence?

You stay frozen. You thought you were going to die. You should have died.

There is a sound. Some, undulating pulsation. Every open wound on your body gets a chill of cold air.

The Other finds your gaze again. His eyes widen in horror.

"Wait..."

Something grabs you. Your vision goes white.

[nightghoul381]

*KICKS DOWN THE DOOR TO YOUR ASK BOX*

HI ITS ME IM THE PROBLEM ITS ME

okay okay okay so SO SO FLUFFY SILVIO IDEAS i have a lot it was very hard to select one so i kinda combined a few ideas into a general THIS KINDA THING

UHM BUT BUT

how about something suuuuper soft with some dancing and cuddles and and and just something so sweet and fluffy like a big ball of candy floss... maybe mc gets a lil drunk so she's freer with her feelings and gets VERY SOFT AND SAPPY ON HIM

ahhhhhhhh (/▽＼*)｡o○♡

ahh i feel like a hyper lil puppy GJOEGOHREGHJO heehehehheehheheeheheheh

Here you go love! Fluffy Silvio just for you 😊😊😊 I hope you like it!!

Silvio POV x Reader Fluff WC~ 1k

Ahh, damn it. I knew I shoulda been keeping a closer eye on you. I swear I leave you alone for one second and you’re so drunk I can hear your laugh from across the room.

Sweeping my gaze through the crowd, I finally see you, surrounded by some of the noblewomen you’ve befriended since coming with me to Benitoite. Your cheeks are so pink and the smile on your face so genuinely happy I have to fight back the jealousy that starts clawing its way out.

You turn your face and meet my eyes and somehow your expression seems to light up even more. I don’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk that comes to my face, knowing I make you so much happier than anyone else feels amazing.

We meet up in the middle of the room and you’re nearly bouncing with excitement.

“My wonderful Prince, love of my life, guardian of my heart!” You exclaim, grabbing my hand and holding it to your heart.

I jerk my hand away, blushing furiously. As I struggle to calm myself I feel you clutching my arm and pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Ack! don’t do that. You’re gonna get lipstick all over my clothes.” I grumble. I’m not really that upset and you’re completely unbothered as you start twirling around, dress flaring from your hips.

“Can we dance? Please?” You plead, looking up at me with those damned gorgeous eyes. I can’t say no to you under normal circumstances, but when you’re like this I just want to keep that child-like joy on your face. You’re too fuckin’ cute for your own good.

“Yeah, we can dance.”

I barely have a chance to react as you throw yourself into my arms, giggling happily. You reach up tugging my shoulders down and press a kiss to my lips.

Ah, shit… Everyone can see us! I try to pull back gently but your grip is ridiculous tonight and you keep working your lips against mine, letting you tongue dart out here and there, knowing how flustered it makes me. My face is getting hot, really hot, I gotta put a stop to this. I end up grabbing your wrists, freeing myself from the onslaught and pulling you behind me.

I ain’t riskin’ you pulling that kind of stunt again. I march us right back to my room and don’t release you until the door is closed behind me.

Turning to face you, my heart drops. You’re sat on the floor, looking so dejected and upset and… damn it.

“Why’re you so sad looking? You’re the one who attacked me in front of all those people.” I huff, trying to figure out why you’d be reacting this way.

“But you said we could dance.”

Your voice is quiet, but I can still tell you were letting yourself get choked up over the disappointment.

Letting out a sigh, I drop to my knees beside you. You start to turn toward me but end up hitting me in the face with your hair as you whip your head the other way. You’re mad now, great…

“Can you at least look at me when I’m tryin’ to make ya feel better?” I mumble, reaching out, gently cupping your cheek with my hand and putting just enough pressure to get you to finally look my way.

I nearly burst out laughing as I catch sight of your grumpy expression, but I just barely manage to keep it in. You’d be so mad if I started laughing, but you’re so goddamn adorable I can’t stop the smile that springs to my lips.

“That’s better. I wanted to tell ya that just because we ain’t at the party anymore doesn’t mean we can’t still dance. If we go out on the balcony, you can still hear the music and everything.” I offer, but you still don’t seem entirely convinced so I add, “This way I don’t have to stop ya kissin’ or touchin’ me or whatever…”

Then I see your face morph into a victorious smirk.

“Haha, I’ve got permission now!” You cheer, jumping up and throwing your arms around me.

“Gahh! You little shit! Were you playin’ me this whole time?!”

“Like a fiddle,” you snicker into my ear, peppering my face with kisses.

You wanna play that game? Count me in. I sweep my arm under your legs, rising to my feet and carrying you out onto the balcony.

“I meant you don’t have to stop while we’re dancing. So, you only have permission while we’re dancin’, got it?” I state, setting you down and fixing you with a challenging stare.

The playful look on your face remains as you once again launch yourself at me, locking your arms around my neck.

“Dance with me, Silvio.”

I place my hands on your waist, yours on my arms. In no time we’re swaying in time to the distant music, my forehead pressed against yours. Everything seems to fall away as you rise to your toes and press the sweetest kiss to my lips.

Your eyes are filled with so much love as you pull back it’s almost dizzying. Never before has anyone shown me even a fraction of the love you’ve given me, and you just keep showing me more.

“I love you so much, Silvio. You make me feel so special, so important. I see you and my day becomes so much better just having you there. I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am that you love me. You mean the world to me.

Affection swells in my chest to the point it almost hurts. When did you end up getting me this wrapped around your finger? I pull you close, burying my face in your hair, breathing in your comforting scent. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier in my life. I feel your arms come around my back, hugging me, and I feel like my heart may explode.

“You’re my world.”

The whisper leaves my lips involuntarily, surprising me almost as much as it surprises you. You lift your head to look up at me, eyes brimming with tears.

My eyes widen and I look away, willing my face to remain free of the heat that I know is dusting my cheeks.

Without a word, you press yourself against my chest, hugging me even tighter.

“You’re my world too.”

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Huskerdust!!

C/W implied suicide via extermination.

Angel took another drag on his cigarette as he leaned his top set of elbows on the wall, the red light that passed for daylight in Pentagram City turning the smoke pink in a way which was momentarily far too reminiscent of Val. He didn't usually come up to the roof but he just needed to be somewhere that wasn't inside right now and Charlie's 'no smoking indoors' rule which everyone usually ignored provided the perfect excuse when the streets were currently more dangerous than usual. 

The atmosphere had been tense ever since the girls had returned from Heaven with the news that the hotel was now target number one for the next extermination but now with just hours left, it had become unbearable. 

The fighting hadn't helped either. Husk had had the nerve to call Angel fake but even a blind man could see the only thing those two could actually agree on right now was the need to keep the hotel safe. Angel never thought he'd say it, but it was unnerving not seeing Charlie and Vaggie presenting a genuine united front on every single little thing.

 

"And here I was thinking this would be the perfect place to get away from you clowns for a few minutes."

Angel rolled his eyes and threw up a one fingered salute he wasn't really feeling, "Fuck you, Whiskers." 

"Maybe if we live to see the end of the week."

Husk leaned on the wall an arms length from the spider, giving him that assessing stare that Angel both loved and hated. It was as gratifying as it was annoying to have someone who could see right through any and all defences he put up, "How you doing, Kid?" 

"Oh, I'm just peachy, can't ya tell? Practically dancin' on the inside." Angel snarked, meeting Husk's gaze in a silent dare to call him out on it. Husk merely stared back (why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to get into a staring contest with a cat?), "Just thinkin' is all."

"What Charlie said about-" Husk jabbed a claw upwards. That had been one of the main sources of division between the princess and her (ex?) girlfriend for days after they got back until they broke the news to the sinner in question. Charlie had been adamant that Angel had a right to know, whilst Vaggie was of the opinion that at this point it was just adding insult to injury with the extermination so close. In the end, Angel had made the decision for them after cornering Charlie and demanding to know why she looked like she was about to start crying whenever she looked at him. Husk had privately been in agreement with Vaggie though - maybe it would have been kinder to let Angel live out what might be his last few days in blissful ignorance of the fact that Heaven would basically rather see him perma-dead than admit they'd fucked up. 

"About me apparently bein' this close to gettin' into Heaven? Nah." Angel threw the remaining half of his cigarette over the edge with an elegant flick of his wrist, suddenly he wasn't in the mood any more, "Can't miss what ya never had, right? Was just thinkin' about how six months ago I wouldn't have given a crap about any of this. The six month extermination, makin' Heaven's personal shit list. None of it." He pulled a fresh cigarette out of the pack in his breast pocket and lit it without taking a drag as he began to pace, giving Husk the impression it was more so he had something to do with his hands, "Even back when I was alive I used to -what'd you call it - self destruct all the god damn time and when I got down here, if it weren't for Val lockin' every soul he owned in the studio durin' the extermination I would've taken my chances outside every time."

He gestured in the air with one of his free hands, "Before this goddamned fucking hotel and every fucker in it, I didn't give a crap what happened to me but now, for the first time in my god damn fucking life, afterlife. Whatever-" he paused to take a long drag, the cigarette trembling slightly in shaky fingers before Angel let out a laugh like the one when he'd torn Husk a new one in the bar that night - disbelieving bordering on hysterical - before looking away like he was about to admit something shameful, "I really. Really don't wanna die tomorrow, Husk." 

"And you ain't gonna." Husk snapped out as his wings spread, causing Angel to startle slightly at the harshness of his tone, the cat demon took a breath to try and calm the swell of emotions Angel's confession caused to rise up, "I mean. I've seen you shoot, you've got some serious skill. Vaggie knows any possible tricks the exorcists might try, Charlie is the literal princess of Hell with all the powers that come with it. Alastor sees this place as his territory now, trust me, if anybody knows how much that creepy fucker doesn't like other people coming after his things..." he gave a small shudder he hoped the other didn't see. 

"...and you?" 

Husk would be lying if he said the question didn't catch him off guard but Angel had been honest with him. Only fair he returned the favour, "I ain't letting any of those winged fuckers touch you."

And there was that smirk Husker hated (loved) so much, "'Cos you wanna be the only winged fucker who gets ta-" 

"Don't even finish that sentence, asshole."

Husk moved to stand next to him, draping a wing over the other to shield him from the wind that had picked up during their talk, "I got your back, kid." 

Angel shifted his weight to lean against the shorter demon, giving a small mental cheer when the other didn't move away and let him kiss concrete, "Back at ya, Husky."

[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 🖤

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @weewootruck @fionaswhvre @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend Thank you loves!

Tagging (for future or for interest purposes) @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @disasterbuckdiaz @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @buddierights @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @forthewolves @911onabc @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @heartshapedvows @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess special shoutout to @ladydorian05 for the inspiration for this scene

It's late but it's still Friday somewhere and I put too much effort in to not post this. Please enjoy a long snippet of The Darkest Fairytale (aka cat!buck/witch!eddie). Prev snippet here. Putting it under the cut because there's some mild description of mishandling Buck while he's in cat form. For reference Buck and Eddie are both teenagers here.

Evan is- well, he’s a lot of things right now. Scared. Confused. Pissed off. Cornered. 

Maddie isn’t around, their parents are worse than ever and, to top it all off, he’s stuck as a goddamn cat. It’s something that’s happened a few times now. The thing is he has no idea how it happens or what exactly it is he does to become human again. All he knows is that one minute he’s Evan and the next he’s got four legs, paws, fur and a tail. And all he can do is helplessly meow or hiss because apparently nobody can understand him. Right now that’s a big fucking problem. 

Three teenage boys – he’s pretty sure he recognizes them from a rival high school’s football team – are crowding around him, backing him into a clump of bushes and trees. He had just been out for a walk, trying to blow off some steam from the latest fight with his parents, and then he became this. Of course, they noticed.

One is wearing a backwards ballcap, another has a Steelers jersey, and the third one has a Zippo lighter he keeps flicking open and snapping shut. 

“It’s okay, kitty cat. We’re not gonna hurt you,” Jersey Kid says, lunging for Evan as if to prove that’s exactly what they’re planning to do. 

On instinct, Evan swats at him, successfully leaving a deep scratch on his forearm. 

“Dude! What the fuck!” Jersey Kid yells and nearly tries again, but Ballcap stops him. 

“You can’t go being an asshole about it, dumbass.” 

Ballcap leans down, reaching out for Evan. He really should have seen it coming. Unfortunately, Evan is so focused on Ballcap he misses the fact that Lighter Kid is behind him, ready to grab him the moment he’s backed up far enough. 

Evan hisses and growls, flailing his body in an attempt to break free. He thinks he manages to claw at Lighter Kid’s face. Despite his efforts he suddenly finds himself in the dark. Evan stops long enough to realize he’s in a bag of some kind. Maybe a backpack? One of the kids must have had it on them and he never noticed. 

Bile rises in his throat and he’s angrier than before. He lets out a throaty yowl and begins to thrash around again, determined to get away. 

“Christ, Jimmy, is it really worth it for a stupid cat?” One of them says.

“I told you. That’s not just a cat.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s god himself - OW! Fucking thing scratched me through my bag.” 

Good, Evan thinks. At least until the hit comes and he’s knocked to the bottom of the pack. 

“Knock it the fuck off.”

He’s going to get out of here. If he has to wait until they open the bag so he can dart off, so be it, but he’s getting the fuck away from them. 

“Hey!” 

A new voice, another boy not part of the original group. Evan makes himself as small as possible, hoping this person won’t catch on that he’s there. 

“You got some kinda animal in there?” Shit.

“What the fuck do you care?” Backpack kid sneers. “It’s none of your business.”

“Well,” New Guy says, “It kinda is based on the way you just elbowed that bag. Pretty sure no one does that and says ‘knock it the fuck off’ to a textbook.”

Backpack kid makes some kind of offended sound, and there’s muffled offerings from the other two. It feels like they’re moving again, but that doesn’t last long before the bag slams into his back and they come to a stop. After that everything becomes a bit of a blur. 

Evan can’t help the surprised yowl that escapes when the bag gets thrown to the ground. At least that’s where he hopes he is. Outside there’s what sounds like shoving, grunting and cursing. Evan scratches frantically at the zipper line hoping to escape while everyone is distracted. It’s not budging though. Distantly he thinks he hears more yelling, but then everything falls silent except for the sound of footsteps approaching. 

“Hey there.” New Guy’s voice is soothing. There’s no hint of malice like the others. Still, Evan isn’t entirely sure he can trust him and prepares to bolt when he has the chance. 

A thin stream of light shines in, growing wider as the zipper opens. He watches the gap increase until he’s certain there’s enough clearance. Evan wants to quickly get as far away as possible, but not before making sure New Guy knows not to mess with him. He wriggles through the opening right into New Guy’s hands. 

Evan squirms and bites. Hard. New Guy tenses but doesn’t fight Evan. He simply deposits him gently in the grass. 

“It’s okay little one. You’re safe now.” 

New Guy has tan skin, dark brown hair that falls forward over his forehead, and eyes the color of a Hershey bar. He smiles at Evan and tentatively holds his hand out as an offering. He smells like sunshine and evergreens.

“I’ll bet someone’s missing you.”

I highly doubt it. 

“Oh.” New Guy abruptly pulls his hand away. “You talk.” 

You- understand me?

“Yeah. I, uh, well. I’m a witch and you’re a familiar, right? Am I not supposed to understand you?” 

Evan’s heard of familiars, but he’s not- that’s not what he is. He didn’t have the slightest inkling he even had any magick until recently. 

I think you’ve got it wrong. Whatever you think I am, I’m not. 

New Guy scrunches his brows for a moment before offering a soft smile and extending his hand again. “I’m Eddie by the way. I didn’t realize you were- or I guess you’re not. Either way I should have maybe introduced myself earlier.”

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

writing request:

IDK JUST SOME ANGST FLUFF THAT ENDS WITH HERO AND VILLIAN CUDDLING ON THR COUCH PLEASE

I need to feel something in this dark world

(OFCOURSE THIS IS JUST A REQUEST YOU CAN CHOOSE TO DO IT OR NOT)

First off, I am truly very sorry this is late. High school and finals are responsible. Also, ty for the request 💙💙, this is right up my alley!

Stars in a Pitch Black Sky

TW: Violence, the agency is toxic, self-depreciation, blood mention

Word count: 1.29 k

Villain kicks Hero’s legs from underneath them, their body slamming into the asphalt. The criminal pins the hero down with their boot, letting it rest on their ribs, earning a soft whimper from them.

They expect resistance, a hand trying to claw at their boot, but they receive nothing. The crime-fighter doesn’t even stir, staying so terribly still to the point that the villain would’ve thought they were dead, had they not heard the exhausted panting.

As though trying to get their attention, Villain slowly increases pressure. Nothing. . .

The hero was normally relentless. Irritatingly so. They never gave their nemesis a chance to recover, their attacks swift, their movements skilled and unpredictable. The villain never wanted to admit that their fighting had the graceful air of a mesmerizing dance. Hero had this fiery passion blazing in their eyes, as though this job was bound to their soul, their legacy inked in with the blood coursing through their veins.

So seeing them like this, letting themselves remain limp under the villain’s foot is definitely unorthodox.

“What is wrong with you?” they ask, strangely frustrated.

“I’m not dead,” the hero replies listlessly.

“Well, you’re as good as like this,” they retort, cocking an eyebrow.

“What if I. . .” they trail off, breathing laboured, “don’t really care?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” the criminal barks. They dig their heel into the crime-fighter’s ribs, resulting in a groan from them. “Fight back!”

At this, the hero finally snaps.

“For what?” they shoot back, forcing the criminal’s shoe off them, finally standing up and slamming their body into the building behind them with so much force that it draws a sharp gasp from the villain.

“To be the agency’s old poster hero? A shiny, little weapon that’s been used so many times, it’s gone dull and rusty?”

“I-but the news is chock full of articles about you. You’re the city’s favourite hero!” they protest.

Their nemesis lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. “The articles – are simply there to sate the public until a brand new hero gets all the spotlight. It’s a performance. The government throws out these ‘heroes’ so that no one questions them.”

Villain’s eyes widened and the hero’s bruising grip on their shoulders softens, as does the diamond-hard gaze.

“I was just some experiment. A coverup. I’m no one’s hero,’ they say softly, their cold fury crumbling to nothing as they worry their bottom lip between their teeth. They let go of the villain, which was sloppy and unprofessional and so unlike the hero.

“You save people. You show up to fight me no matter what,” the villain reasons.

The crime-stopper sucks in a careful, measured breath, as though it was their last. “I only fight you because they tell me to. You’re far from the worst thing out there. The agency just labels anyone with functioning braincells who isn’t their goddamn puppet ‘a threat’. ” Hero snorts inelegantly, but the look in their eyes is anything but amused. Desperate. Broken.

The confession leaves Villain dumbfounded, and their agape jaw quickly snaps shut. They want to say something to soothe their enemy, but they were never one for gentle words and complicated feelings. Because they currently have no one they care about to have any knowledge of. . .basic human emotions, apparently.

Yet here they are, practically itching to find a way to offer their nemesis any comfort they can. “I- the people don’t care about the agency, Hero. Just because they made you feel like your time is over or whatever stupid publicity stunt they’re trying to pull – doesn’t mean it actually applies to you.”

Hero only gives them a wry smile, and it seems to age them decades in matter of instants, even though they’re young, like the villain. Too young. “It was nice feeling like I meant something, even if the affirmations were false. A pretty lie is something to hold on to.”

Villain tilts their chin up, cautiously, as though they are more fragile than glass. “What are you planning on doing now?”

“I,” the hero starts, “I don’t k-know!” And with that, the hand on their jaw started to get wet with the steady flow of tears that they immediately wipe away, their face flushed and their throat burning like acid was forced down it with the shame, the tears tasting like salt on their tongue.

“You can stay with me,” the villain offers, pulling the hero close to them. They flinch violently, letting out a sharp gasp, but they cling onto their greatest enemy like a lifeline.

“Just until you figure things out. My civilian identity arouses no suspicion. I have a legal source of income too.”

“Why?” the hero rasps, pulling away from the embrace, “Why would you help me? Why do you care?” they ask, their form trembling with every step they take.

“Because,” they breathe out carefully, “I care about you,” they realise.

“I have no one to hold on to. No one I know whom I give a damn about. You know me better than people who’ve seen me with my mask off every day.”

And it was true. Because when the hero showed up to all those fights, it almost felt like they were keeping each other company more than anything. Old friends and perfect strangers mixed into one.

Hero takes the risk of believing them. The lesser of two evils, if their intentions prove to be rotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤♤♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Villain’s house is spacious, decorated in a way that was both luxuriant and simple. The place smells like expensive. Like exotic wood and potted plants with their fragrant blossoms, like fancy tea and brand new furniture, like the villain themselves: the crisp pages of a book mixed with the criminal’s musky perfume, though they currently smell more like blood and the day’s activities than anything else. But no matter how striking the difference is between their estate and the hero’s practical and brilliantly staid apartment, they both have one major thing in common.

The air reeks of mind-numbing loneliness in both places.

Reluctantly, the criminal rips off their mask, offering the hero a shy smile. Even though their features are somewhat sharp, maybe a little less harsh then the hero’s, but still defined, they look incredibly soft. It makes the city’s saviour wonder how they ever saw them as a menace. They reciprocate, feeling completely exposed as a scar underneath their eye is revealed. The villain’s smile widens to a grin.

“You’re cute.” They trace the shape of their scar with their fingers, and if the hero was blushing a few moments ago, right now they can pass off as a very convincing beetroot.

Moments later, Villain settles themselves on the couch, much too tired for anything else, patting the spot next to them. Hesitantly, Hero joins them.

“What movies do you like?”

“Thrillers,” the hero answers, without missing a beat.

At that, the villains laughs and raises an eyebrow in amusement. “You felt more like a Disney movie kind of person. But I’m into thrillers too.”

“Don’t patronise me,” they chide jokingly.

Villain smirks and reaches for the remote, picking a film neither of them had seen before. They pull the hero into their lap, even though the crime-fighter was the taller of the two. They’re ridiculously light, they note. They need to eat.

Halfway into the movie, Hero still perched on top of their lap, Villain asks them, “I’m getting takeout. Pizza or Chinese? Or something else?”

“Chinese is my favourite. Go for it!’ they chirp excitedly.

Villain’s heart doesn’t melt. It spontaneously combusts. “Do you know how tempting you are to spoil?” they stage-whisper, stroking the hero’s hair.

Hero just laughs softly in response.

Yes, the world gets dark. Hope is a thin thread to cling to, a precarious journey to make. There is a fine line between trust and utter foolishness and mistakes are inevitable, but to avoid everything in fear of them is to avoid living, to be a living body with a dead soul. Because between every wrong choice, there is always a right one, a chance we'd regret not seizing. Because even in the all-consuming darkness of a pitch black sky, the stars never fail to illuminate the night.

Notes: Thought I'd finally answer one of my asks before going back to radio silence for a while!

Tagging for comfort fics: @roblingoblin285

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichakii @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!