#they fucked on the bell tower once on the steps

[lexa-griffins]

Where are clexa's favorite places to hookup in nun au? The confessional box, bell tower, chapel, etc 👀

Clarke enjoys the confessional. Lexa on her knees, making Lexa repent of her sins, forcing Lexa's face harder between her legs telling Lexa over and over to repent harder. And then sitting Lexa on her lap, her back pressed to her chest, legs opened while she fucks her with her fingers and kisses her chest, leaving the poor nun completely exposed to any poor soul who might open the door.

Lexa.... Lexa likes the altar. There's something so devilishly sinful about it, being forced to bend over the table, fucked from behind as she stares at the face of god. Seeing the distorted reflection of her naked form and Clarke behind her on the gold of the altar, knowing later she'll stand here receiving the body of christ where Clarke now takes hers.... The blasphemy of it all..... she adores it.

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

[theemporium]

ooh remus x bestfriend!reader, obvi they're in love but remus goes on a date with someone else and shit's just angsty. i love angst haha. but a happy ending would be nice

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Remus Lupin knew he fucked up.

There were so many signs that should have pointed out that very fact to him earlier but he had failed to let them really sink in, and now he was sitting across from a girl he really didn’t care about with an immense amount of guilt and buzzed energy as his brain and body and soul screamed at him for being so fucking stupid. 

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe because a part of him wanted to go out with the witch who had been ogling him across the library, maybe because Sirius kept teasing him that he was in love with you and he wanted to prove his friend wrong. Whatever reason it was, it hadn’t stopped him from walking over, flashing the witch a smile and chatting away to her until a date had been set. 

The first bell that should have rang in his head that this was all wrong was when he told you he had a date on Saturday and the way your face fell for a split second was enough to make his stomach twist in discomfort. That gut-punching feeling that didn’t disappear when you quickly smiled at him and told him that you couldn’t wait to hear about his date. 

The next bell should have rang when he watched the witch approach him in the courtyard where they agreed to meet before their walk to Hogsmeade, and his first thought was that you would have never done your hair in the frevolent manner she had done so. But still, Remus kept pushing his feelings away and continued on with the date.

Now he was sitting beside her in a cramped booth in The Three Broomsticks, his thigh pressed against her thigh and his shoulder pressed against her shoulder and it was wrong. It was so very wrong and he couldn’t brush away the feeling no matter how hard he tried. He kept trying to tell himself that he was being dramatic, that Sirius had just gotten in his head and now he was overthinking everything. 

But then she tried to kiss him and her lips had barely brushed his before Remus was scrambling away from the booth, spluttering out some half-assed apology mixed with an excuse before he bolted out of the establishment before he could even really feel guilty for the scene he created and the embarrassment he may have let the witch feel. 

He couldn’t let himself feel anything except the unexplainable feeling to be far away from everyone else but you. 

It had been a blur of emotions and twisted thoughts as he made his way back to Hogwarts, the chill biting into his cheeks and the tip of his nose but he didn’t care. He practically ran through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower, bursting through the painting after he rambled out the password and fell short when he found himself face to face with a displeased looking Lily Evans. 

He tried to step around her but she quickly stepped in his way. He tried again but Lily put herself in his path once again.

“Lily, whatever this is—”

“She cares about you, Remus,” Lily stated simply. 

Remus fell short. “What?”

“She’s your best friend and she cares about you and your happiness,” Lily continued. “And it’s that same reason that she will keep her mouth shut because she cares about you being happy more than anything else, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt her.”

His face fell a little when he realised what she was talking about. “Lily, I–”

“Don’t make it worse for her,” she said in a softer voice, the affection the redhead had grown for you over the years really shining through her words. You had become the sister she lost.

“I want to make it right,” Remus said in a serious voice.

Her brows furrowed. “What are—”

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered before moving past the redhead with an apology, his long legs making it easy to take the steps up to the girls’ dormitories three steps at a time before he found himself standing outside your room. His fist thumped against the door as he impatiently waited for you to open.

No response.

He knocked again.

No response.

He knocked for a third time and he picked up the sound of shuffling from the other side of the door before he heard footsteps. And then the door swung open. 

“Lily, I already said—” you paused, sniffling a little. “Remus?”

“Oh love,” his whispered response was the only thing that was able to leave his lips when he noticed your red rimmed eyes. You had been crying. You had been crying because of him. Because he was stupid and didn’t realise what was right in front of him this whole time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, a frown forming on your lips. “Shouldn’t you be on your date?”

“I left,” he said simply.

Your frown deepened. “You left?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You seemed excited,” you said, clearing your throat a little.

“Because I realised something,” Remus told you.

“What?”

“That I was on a date with the wrong girl,” he said as he took a step towards you, his large hands cupping your face. “That I was an idiot for not realising that what I really wanted was right in front of me. That the girl I wanted was my best friend.”

Your eyes widened. “Remus—”

“You’re the one I want, baby,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping your cheeks. “Just you, nobody else.”

Your hands fisted the material of his knitted sweater as you pulled him down, your lips meeting in a messy but passionate kiss. His hands squished your cheeks before they dropped to cup your neck, keeping you in place as he slowly began to guide you back into your room.

“Let me make it up to you for being an idiot?” he murmured against your lips.

He delighted in the way your smile felt against his. 

“Give it your best shot, Lupin.”

.

[britany1997]

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Two

It’s here y’all! The next chapter of Fate Yields For No One! I’m so excited for y’all to read it! Hope y’all love it🥰 let me know in the comments if you’d like to be added to the FYFNO Taglist, or to my main list:)

Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

Please reblog to support my work!

Prologue, Chapter One

California, 1986

“I know you resent me now, but I’m only doing what’s best for you. I take care of my children, and I hope that in time you can learn to see me as your father.”

Fuck Max. Fuck California. Fuck everything.

The second you’d carved even a sliver of a life for yourself, it’d been forcefully ripped from you. You weren’t allowed to be free. You had been “gifted” with eternal life, but you couldn’t truly live.

Max saw himself as a savior. According to him, he’d rescued you from the gutter, from an impending death. But you’d died everyday since his fangs had sunken into your skin.

A stake through the heart was a kindness you would never be afforded. Your future had never been yours to control.

The room you’d been banished to at the top of Max’s house felt more like a gilded tower as the nights wore on.

You were semi-imprisoned by your self-proclaimed father, and semi-imprisoned by your own will. Max didn’t trust you enough to allow you out alone at night, but you’d be damned if you ever went out with him.

So you stayed, confined to your prison and guarded by Thorn. You seethed in malice, all alone.

Or sort of alone, as you’d done in life, you allowed yourself to escape to worlds within literature. Your bedside table was stacked with Mrs. Dalloway, The Bell Jar, and of course, Jane Eyre. What were you if not a mad woman locked inside a room. All you needed was a match.

You were skimming the pages of The Feminine Mystique when you heard a firm knocking on your bedroom door. Shortly after, Max entered, his tall, broad frame filling the doorway. “I want you to come to the video store tonight, in fact, I’d like you to start working there for me.”

You continued to read, refusing to so much as look at him as he spoke to you, “why’d you knock if you were just going to come in anyway?”

Max frowned, “you’ve been here for almost a month now and you’ve done nothing but refuse to acknowledge me and behave terribly.”

“Not true,” you said nonchalantly, holding up your book and finally meeting his eyes, “I’ve also been reading.”

Max’s head fell into his hands in frustration. “I’ve tried so hard with you but-”

“Tried what?” you interrupted, “thrusting the curse of immortality onto me without explaining what you were doing? Without telling me what it meant? Without giving me a choice?!”

Max crossed his arms, preparing himself for another of your monologues.

“Or maybe you mean ripping me from my home, from the life I’d made for myself. Because God forbid I do anything on my own, God forbid I allow myself to be happy for once in my unlife. No, you’d rather keep me under your thumb, calling yourself my father just to spite me.”

“Are you done?” Max asked, eyebrow raised.

“Might as well be,” you spit, “you can hear me but you never listen.”

“You mock me for calling myself your father, when all you ever do is act like a rebellious child.”

You grimaced and turned your eyes to the ground.

He stepped forward, “I don’t want to use it, but I will.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. He was referring of course, to his thrall.

As your sire, Max had completely power over you. If he chose to, he could utter the words and force you to do whatever he wanted.

Max had assured you that he wouldn’t use this power unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. Yet this didn’t set you at ease. The threat of your agency being stripped from you was constantly present in the back of your mind.

It was better for you to choose to do what he wanted, if it could be called a choice.

You sighed, dog earring your book and throwing it into your tote as you slipped it over your shoulder. You moved to walk out the door but paused in front of Max, “I hope you know how much I hate you.”

He sighed, a sad smile stretching across his face, “I do.”

You arrived at the video store to find that an application had already been filled out for you, and your employment had been approved.

You glared at Max as he pulled out your name tag, “this is demeaning,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes, “having a summer job you were given because of nepotism? Yes, no one has suffered as you have suffered.”

He clipped the name tag to your shirt, “enough with this attitude,” he whispered.

He turned to a pretty, curly haired girl working the counter, “Maria, this is my daughter,” you waved awkwardly, “she’ll be working here this summer, show her what to do.”

He turned back to you, “I’ve got to do inventory, listen to Maria she’s a nice girl.”

With that he patted your arm and headed to the back of the store.

Maria came out from behind the counter and offered you her hand, which you gladly took. “I’m Maria,” she smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen in a long time as she shook your hand, “I’ve been working the night shift alone for forever! I’m really glad to have you here.”

Your cheeks flushed at her words, “well, I’m glad to be here,” you said genuinely. It’d been awhile since you’d had anyone you’d been able to truly connect with.

In her smile you saw the potential for a confidant, something you desperately needed. Maybe you couldn’t tell her about the monstrous side of you, but you wanted her to know everything else. You wanted someone who truly knew you.

The night passed quickly as Maria taught you how to work the register, stock movies, and use the stores check out system. With the rest of your time you were content to listen as she rambled about her life.

You smiled softly as she told you about her friends, her classes, and her family. Maria was the oldest daughter of a huge, tight knit family. Five siblings meant she spent a lot of her weekends babysitting, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She gushed to you about each sibling, their personalities, their quirks, their likes and dislikes, by the end of the night you felt like you knew each of them. You were touched by her obvious care for them.

When the end of her shift came, you were holding back tears. She loved her family just as you’d loved yours. For the first time in a long time, you’d met a kindred spirit, for the first time in a long time, you had a friend.

When she’d finished packing up her things, Maria pulled you in for a hug. “It was so nice to meet you! I can’t wait to see you again for our shift tomorrow.”

Your heart swelled, “I can’t wait either!”

She shot you another one of her bright smiles before turning to head out the door. You beamed to yourself as you fiddled with the register.

“Hey babe, heading out already?” your ears perked up at the sound of someone speaking to Maria.

She giggled, “Paul, you know you’re not supposed to be in here anymore,” she sing-songed.

Paul sighed dramatically, “oh babe I’d stay away, but I’d miss seeing ya every night!”

Maria laughed once more, “we couldn’t have that now could we.”

You rolled your eyes at this Paul guy’s cheesy flirting, wondering why he wasn’t allowed in the store.

“Who’s the new chick,” Paul whispered.

You tried to ignore him as you counted the cash.

“Why don’t you see for yourself Paulie,” Maria teased, “I’ve gotta get going.”

“Sure baby, let me just turn on my charm.”

You could hear his voice dripping with fuckboy confidence. This would be good.

You were jolted from your thoughts by the repeated ringing of the bell on the counter. You sighed, turning around slowly, an annoyed expression on your face.

Your eyes met the blond man’s piercing blue ones, as you stared into them your frustration melted into shock.

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.

“Mine.”

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[mika-writes-fanfics]

As It Was

Dabi x Reader Angst

Warnings/tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, brief mentions of burns, major character death, pre-established relationship, reader cares for flowers

Synopsis: Dabi returns to you after completing his life's mission, his body now badly burned and damaged. He wonders, will you accept him with open arms? Will you take what is left of him?

Author's note: I've been on a Hozier binge. "As It Was" from Wasteland, Baby! was giving me major Dabi vibes. This is kind of different from the content I usually like to write and read, but I felt so inspired I just had to write it. Word count: 1.1K

He’s now thankful your home is on the outer reaches of the city, tucked in a secluded pocket between the border of the forest and the concrete hell of the city. After what he’s done, there’s not a person in Japan that wouldn’t recognize his face. Had you not lived in the middle of nowhere, he’d already be arrested by some weak police officer or jumped by some rookie hero. 

It’s ironic, the thinks, that his opinion has changed. He hated it, at one point. You lived so far away from his shitty apartment at the time, meaning that every time he wanted to see you, he had to take the agonizingly long train rides. It was like you lived in a fucking retirement community since all the elderly would take the same train, giving him judgemental stares all the while. It pissed him off to no end. And if that wasn’t enough, being in the forest always reminded him of Sekoto. 

But still, he bore it all for you, back before he let his rage consume him. 

Before he devoted himself entirely to revenge. 

Before he started burning himself all over again. 

Before he fucked it all up.

Despite the way he left you, he hopes you’ll be kind enough to him to accept his return, to not instantly slam the door in his face.

If he even makes it to your doorstep, that is.

Each step he takes feels like a battle between life and death. These heavy and labored movements exhaust him, made worse by the state your driveway is in. Of all the days for it to rain, it just had to be today. The torrential downpours make the path harder to traverse. Mud clings to his boots with every trudging step he takes, threatening to suck him into the earth, burying him at his final resting place. 

The puddles of water settling in the tire tracks of your car show him grim reminders of his appearance, showing him glimpses of just how ghastly he’s become.

He’s a burnt husk of what he once was.

Nothing is left of him now that he's achieved his life’s purpose. 

The only thing that remains of him is this homing instinct to return to you.

To go back to the start. 

To give you what’s left of him.

To feel his final sensation of comfort.

To feel loved again.

He’s faced with the reality of how long it’s been when he finally catches sight of your home. In the year he was by your side, he never saw those Foxgloves bloom once, as he met you in the late summer. But now, judging by the towering violet, bell-shaped flowers framing the sides of your window, it’s been three years.

It’s in this moment that his mind replays the memory of the following summer, the one in which he noticed you agonizing over the flowerless plant beds. He remembers it, with surprising clarity amongst the mental fog. 

“Why do you bother taking care of those stupid flowers if they never fucking bloom?” He asked you, critically. 

“They’re foxgloves,” you answered. 

“So?”

“So, they do bloom, just biennially, and their flowering season just passed. You’ll see why I keep ‘em around in another year,” you explained.

The fact you even implied he’d still be in your life a year from then filled him with a sense of security. Whether you meant it or not, he took it as a promise, and kept it tucked in the darker reaches of his heart. 

Three long years have passed since he left you, since he abandoned you without a word. But he has known you have a patient side to you, he’s seen it in the way you always gave him space in his darkest days, how you allowed him the time to come back to you when he was ready, how you never took his frustrating habit of pushing you away to heart, weathering his toxicity with love and carefulness. Maybe, since you’re so patient, you have been waiting for him. If you welcomed those flowers despite their long absence, maybe you’d accept him, too. 

Normally, he’d sneer at the thought of you turning him into such a hopeless romantic, a weaker version of himself, but considering how there’s nothing left of him anyways, he’s fine with the idea. Maybe the positivity you give him would turn him into something beautiful again. 

He finally climbs up to your doorstep and stumbles against the door. When his shaky and weak hands turn the knob, expecting to be met with a locked door, it turns easily without resistance. Your door is unlocked, which in his state of hopeful delusion, he interprets as you waiting for him.

Maybe you knew he would come back.

You had made it easy for him to crawl back into your life.

Or maybe you just forgot to lock it. 

He swings open the door as he leans against the door frame. Any other time, the sound of the groaning hinges would grate at his ears, but right now, the sound feels familiar and comforting. It feels like nothing has changed, everything is as it once was.

He trudges deeper into your home, shambling past your living room and tracking mud all over your floors. There’s a pit of anxiety forming in his stomach the longer he walks through your home without seeing a glimpse of you. But it’s when he approaches the kitchen that he hears you humming, the sound calming his mind. 

His boots thud on your tiled floor, loud, and uneven. He sways as he walks, bumping into one of your dining chairs, the movement scraping the chair against the floor. Your humming abruptly cuts off at the sound and you turn to the source, on high alert, only to see him propping himself up against the walls.

A sharp gasp escapes your lungs. 

All he can see is you as the edges of his vision grey out. Against your better judgment, you rush over to him as his legs start buckling underneath him.  

He starts to collapse on the spot. You close the distance and open your arms around him, catching his fall and attempting to bear the brunt of his weight. 

Despite what he’s done, despite how he left you so suddenly, he can still feel your love for him.

It’s in the way you try to make sure he doesn’t fall, despite tripping being the least concern to him given his injuries.

It’s how your voice sounds frantic as you ask him if he’s okay if he can hear you, if he’s still in there.

It’s how you start to sob at seeing the state he’s in. 

You’re so worried about getting him to lie on the ground safely and checking his pulse that you fail to see him softly smiling at how you fuss over him, what’s left of his burnt face forcing out a peaceful expression. 

The last thing he hears, the last thing he feels, the last thing he thinks about, is you.

[kyday]

Solace | Kate Bishop

Summary: It's one of those nights again where Kate disappears and doesn't come back until it's early morning. You have finally had enough. warnings: bad writing (sorry not sorry), few swear words. light angst with a happy ending. enjoy!! wordcount: 1200+ ------------------

Katiee 💘: hey love, i know you’re at work right now, but im just telling you that ill be busy the entire day. I have so much to do today so i might not be able to open my phone as often.

You: hi babyyy, its fine. i get it,  just make sure to text me once everything  is over, okay? love you.

Katiee 💘: of course, dont worry. love you too, mwuah! 9:23 am

It was 11:34 pm, the flickering lights of NYC fluttered outside your window, and the constant noise of cars passing by was nothing new. You had been up all night waiting for a reply from your girlfriend, Kate.

Her last reply was in the morning, after that— radio silence. Her silence was unnerving, although you had gotten used to her doing this, it never was this drastic. You kept opening your phone every time it turned on, expecting it was her message, but still; nothing.

You: babyy, are you free noww? if not, i hope you finish up soon. mwuah. 6:02 pm

You:

heyy, i know this is probably just one of your busy days but are you donee? lucky misses you already.  text me when you get this. 7:35 pm 

You:

kate, Im getting worried. you haven't been answering the entire day. is everything fine? please text me once you see this. 9:00 pm

You:

Kate??? Please tell me you’re okay. I'm worried sick. 9:58 pm

You anxiously paced around your bedroom, at the corner of the room Lucky was sleeping on his bed. He was planning on staying up with you but at 10 pm he accidentally fell asleep. You make your way to the dining room, leaving a light on— you’ll wait for Kate here.

You can feel your eyes slowly giving up, trying to keep yourself up— you try to rub your face to stay awake a bit more. 

This hasn’t been the first time Kate has done this. Ever since last year when she hit that large bell tower, she had changed. There were times you often pretended to not know when she had cuts or bruises— she was a bad liar. You can often see her limping or wincing every time she moves.

You never questioned her about it though. You didn't want to overwhelm her especially since her mother got sent to jail for murdering people. But ever since that— it seemed like she was burying herself in her work more and more. The cuts or bruises were more visible, you remember when she didn't come home for a day and she blamed it on her cousin who was in town and wanted some tour around NYC.

Right as you were about to fall asleep, you heard the sound of keys clattering and curses being mumbled as the person entered the front door. You recognized the voice to be Kate. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” 

She stopped in her tracks when she saw you standing in front of the couch. There was a moment of silence between you, “Where the hell have you been?” You questioned in disbelief. She puts down her bow on the nearest table, you watch her intently.

“The company had me go overtime since there were extra projects due. Look, I sorry-” 

She explains but you quickly cut her off. “Oh my god, then why the hell do you bring your fucking bow or why couldn't you even text me once? Do you think I'm stupid Kate?” She sighs, massaging her temple.

“Y/n, let's not do this right now.” She mumbles, giving you a tired look. “I'm tired, we can talk about this in the morning.” You shook your head immediately.

You stepped closer to her. “No, we are talking about this now. Because in the morning you’ll be gone even before I wake up. Goddamit, I'm not oblivious! I know that your work isn't from seven am to eleven fucking pm!” Kate is starting to become more irritated with you, trying to bite her tongue from saying anything.

“What the hell are you hiding from me? I was worried sick, I waited up until what? Eleve-” You look at the clock. 12:10 am. “Its fucking midnight!” Kate knows she deserves this, but she's tired, way too tired to fight right now.

“Who said you had to fucking wait for me?” She replies, stunning you.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “Oh my god, maybe because I'm your girlfriend, Kate! Have you ever thought of that?”

As the tension in the room thickened, Kate's expression softened, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to worry you," she said, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "I know I've been distant lately, and I haven't been completely honest with you."

You can feel your frustration, but you are also worried. “Then why, Kate? Why do you keep shutting me out? Why are you not telling me the truth?” Kate looks down in guilt, her superhero duties have been such a huge thing for her that she forgot her true priority, you.

“I haven't been honest with you..” She starts off.

“No shit Sherlock.” You mumble, earning a smile from her.

She coughs, “I know this may uh- this may seem unbelievable but I've been working with Hawkeye to bring this organization down.” She stopped to see your reaction, but your face was like stone. “And just— today we were so close to getting them but they got away.” Kate continues, her voice turning into a whisper at the end, you can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“But you didn't have to hide it from me, Kate.” You start, tears welled up in Kate’s eyes.

“I didn't want to make you worry, I'm so sorry.” She whispers.

You walk over to her and wipe her tears. “I'm always worrying about you, you know that. It doesn't matter how crazy your story is. Hell, if you told me you were fighting aliens, I would believe you. Because I trust you, Kate. And I need you to put that same trust in me.” You explain, hugging her.

You can feel her nod against your chest. “No more secrets, okay?” 

“Okay.” She mumbles, latching onto you.

You chuckle, “Come on, we can cuddle in bed.” She protests for a second, saying she wants to lie down on the floor. But you manage to convince her into going to the bedroom for cuddles.

She plops down on the mattress, and you follow behind her. “I'm sorry again, I won't do it again, love.” She looks up at your eyes, you smile at her. 

“It's okay now. Just go to bed, okay?” She nods, and she inches closer to you before pressing her lips onto yours. “Goodnight baby.”

“Goodnight love.” Kate mumbles tiredly, cuddling up to you. And for a moment, the loud cars outside quieted down, and the bright city lights weren't so bright anymore. 

Kate realized that she could only have this comfort with you.

[shaevilux]

Doomed by the narrative is a popular, fun trope. It's what superhero movies are all about. If you take the average superhero you already probably would know how their story is, what tragic backstory they had, what events shaped their life, etc.

So what you'll see whenever there's a new story about them is those major backstory elements rehashed or subverted or played with or at least mentioned in some way. Because that's the story. That's the narrative. And the character is established by that narrative and therefore also doomed by it.

ATSV is no different. In fact it goes full meta with it. (There used to be a time when being meta was so cool until it was so goddamn overdone that it became stupid and you just want the earnestness of the pre-meta stories. You can only furiously 'wink wink' and violently*nudge nudge* the audience so much before you lose their interest. Anyway ATSV is fully earnest in it's meta that you don't even register it as being meta until you take a step back and look at the story being told. Like it's a proper metamodernist piece. Also I like how the two great examples of metamodernist media are both multiverse stories. The other being everything everywhere all at once, of course)

What the movie does differently is having how different people react to the 'Doomed by the Narrative trope’ be the forefront of the story. That is the story, actually. It also explores how valid everyone's reactions are. Even Miguel's (my hot take).

Like Peter B has lived as Spider-man long enough and has gone through most of the Spider-Man canon and was in a slump when we first met him. Like he even separated from MJ. But he rolls with it. Because that's just who he is. But now?

It was because of Miles Peter B got back into his groove and found his place again. It was essentially because of Miles he got back with MJ and had a baby and found stability in being himself.

'How do I know I'm ready, Miles?'

'You can't. It's a leap of faith.'

Miguel is angry but resigned because the one time he tried to defy the narrative it fucked everything up so bad. An entire universe was lost because of him. So now he’s doing what he genuinely believes is the right thing to do. He built the spider society to really make sure no one else can repeat his mistake and lose everything. Like what Peter Blond said in the first movie, 'because the only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me' except change 'city' to 'arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse'.

So of course he’s angry when Miles suggests that canon can be changed. That he can deny fate. Both because he’s convinced Miles is wrong and is going to get people killed and also if Miles is right than Miguel has to reckon with the fact that he’s convinced so many Spider-people to just adhere to the canon that had engulfed every aspect of his life now and let their loved ones die because he was convinced there was no fighting the narrative. That not everyone is as doomed as he is. Miles challenging that notion while there is concrete evidence of the notion being correct is cool af.

And Hobie, who probably knows he's doomed but has his own agenda for joining spider society. He's stealing knick knacks, building his own watch and shit. He might accept the narrative but he's not gonna live by it. If the narrative is gonna take him down he’s not going down limp. So of course when he sees Miles rebelling against the narrative he is fully on board. Miles exemplifies Hobie's traits. That is a proper punk.

And Gwen. My god. She escaped her narrative of being a dead spidey gf only to become a spidey trope herself. Seriously, an alternate universe gwen that doesn't die at the bell tower and instead is that universe's spider-woman? How cool is that? Oh wait. Your dad's gonna die and your Peter is also dead. Sorry. Haha.

Anyway, the movie opening with her and us seeing her current mental place was done so well. She misses Peter. She misses Miles. But both of these people aren't in her life anymore. Her dad hates who she is. She's depressed. But she's still spider-woman. And then the story happens and vulture and Miguel and then boom. Her father knows her identity. And essentially disowns her. She flees to the spider-verse. She can't go back home and she’s even more stressed out and angry when she learns that as Spider-Woman she's gonna lose her loved ones no matter what.

She lost Pete. And now she might lose her dad. So now she's in a limbo. By not going back home she is saving her father because he can't die unless she's there to not save him. The narrative will still eventually doom her. But she can put it off by having spider-people adventures and upholding the narrative that wants to doom her. Goddamn irony.

But she stops going along with it when she sees Miles' reaction to finding out he’s doomed. He doesn't give in to the narrative. He doesn't care about canon. He fights back. And that one little push gives her the spark to try and find out just how doomed she really is. And that ending scene when her dad stops being a police officer and really just becomes her dad. The doom lingering over her 'canon event' vanishes. He's no longer the capt stacey doomed to die in a spider story. He's a dad who's accepting his daughter wholly. I fucking love Gwen's whole arc in this movie.

And then there's Miles. Goddamn Miles, man. He was trying so hard to figure out what his narrative even is, but is determined that he can figure it out, that he can spread his wings and manage on his own and find his place and be himself.

Like, I would've written a paragraph dedicated to Pavitr on here but Miles already saved him from the narrative. Pavitr, my wholesome boy I hope you face no strife in life and everything goes absolutely splendid for you at all times my precious baby boy I love him.

Anyway, Miles finding out he's doomed? And how he finds out is from the people he thought would truly understand what he's about? And them not only accepting the fact that him (and all other spider-people) are doomed but going along with it? That has to be the biggest 'what the actual fuck' moment for him. It's so out of left field for him, understandably so. This whole building of heroes are all 'yeah. Peter from universe 573683 can't clock in today. He just lost his uncle' like that's such a fucked up concept that Miles will not even look at the reasoning Miguel or anyone else puts in front of him.

And this radical rejection is the best character take. I seriously seriously can't wait to see the next movie and see just how Miles deals with a narrative hellbent on dooming him. Spider society will be in shambles.

Obligatory 'Do it, Miles. Break the fucking canon.'

This post was inspired by another tumblr post that I can't find but it expressed my thoughts about the 'doomed by the narrative' aspect of it all but not in the words I had in mind so I wrote it myself

[jazzycurls]

You Belong To Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Its a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Unestablished dom/sub relationship, bullying, cheating, slight coercion, smut, thigh riding, choking (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore but I'm definitely still a newbie. All feedback is welcome, be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Repost since Tumblr is tripping. Love you guys and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 3,245

You kept your head down as you walked down the hall, trying hard to avoid being noticed. Life as a high schooler was hard, even more so when you had someone who had made it their mission to terrorize you every chance they got. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you saw Mrs. O'Donnell's class up ahead.

'Just a few more steps,' you thought silently. The possibility of making it to class on time for once seemed very likely. It was no fault of your own that you were constantly late, your tormentor always chose the moments right before class to harass you. Before you could make it to the door, you were yanked backward by your backpack into a utility closet.

You yelped in alarm as you stumbled over your feet into the dark room. The door clicked shut when your back hit the solid surface with a thud. You let out a strangled gasp from the wind being knocked out of you.

Your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness as a looming figure towered over you threateningly. You were yanked upward by the collar of your shirt, bringing you face to face with your assailant. "Where is it," he uttered with a low dark voice.

Light seeped in from the cracks of the door, offering a small amount of light in the dark space. "What?" Your eyes zero in on dark solemn eyes, instantly recognizing it to be Eddie.

"Don't fuck with me, sweetheart." He took the hand fisting your collar, moving it upward to wrap lightly around your throat. His thumb rested on the front, applying enough pressure to make your head swim without cutting off your circulation.

"I— I d-didnt have time to do both of our work." The words left your mouth in a meek whimper. Your heart thundered in your ears and tears bristled against your lashes from anxiety.

Eddie shook his head in mock sympathy as he squeezed your neck tighter. "I'm really disappointed in you darling," he whispered as he leaned close to your ear. His lips ghosted over your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"I'm sorry Eddie," you cried softly. A few tears skipped down your cheeks. For reasons unknown, you were genuinely saddened to have disappointed him. The rational part of you knew that you had no real reason to be upset but the feelings remained nonetheless.

The soft pads of his guitar-calloused thumbs wiped the tears away from your face. He let out a heavy sigh "No worries— I guess we'll just have to find a way for you to make it up to me," he stated simply as he played with the soft ends of your hair, twirling it around his finger.

You shook your head vigorously, eager to have the chance to make it up to Eddie and avoid any punishments.

"There's a party tonight at Janie Calhoun's. I want you to be there," he told you, leaving no room for argument.

"What about Chrissy," you questioned. You knew that he and Chrissy were a thing. There was no way he would take you to a party instead of her right?

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about her. You just show up and wait for me, I'll come find you." The sound of the tardy bell began to ring in the background, catching his attention. "Gotta go, I'll see you later," he finally steps away from you and drops his hand from your neck.

You move away from the door, allowing him to open it and slip out. You wait a minute before leaving the small room. Your mind runs rapidly with thoughts of what Eddie has in store for you.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Eddie wasn't a bully, at least he liked to think so. He had become something like a protector to the lost sheep who wandered the halls of Hawkins High. He took the outcasts under his wing, giving them a brotherhood of sorts that offered friendship and protection as well. He knew that if the dynamics of his relationship with y/n ever came to light, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

It's not that he didn't like y/n, it was quite the opposite. He thought that she was beautiful, sweet, and kind. She was also naive and shy, which also endeared him to her. Something about her nature made him want to dominate her. He knew it wasn't healthy and he didnt understand it, he just knew that it was a reaction he had whenever he was around her and only her.

The fact that he was with Chrissy complicated things immensely. The history between him and Chrissy ran deep and he felt obligated to her in a way. He loved Chrissy but he was in love with y/n. He needed and wanted you beyond comprehension.

The music thumped loudly, causing the house to vibrate. He leaned back against the couch, spread out comfortably with his arm wrapped around Chrissy. She sat close to him with her hand perched on top of his knee, while she spoke animatedly with her friends. A joint sat loosely between his lips as he inhaled and exhaled the smoke lazily.

Eddie hated parties and with his girlfriend being the social butterfly that she was, he felt obligated to show up as well. On the plus side, it allowed him to make a lot of money on rich inebriated high schoolers who couldn't tell when he was ripping them off.

His heart sped up at the sight of you as you made your way through the crowd of horny teenagers dancing in the middle of the floor. You had on a pink pleated skirt that stopped mid-thigh, paired with a white low-cut blouse that showcased your ample cleavage teasingly. Once you had cleared the floor, you made your way to the corner of the room and braced yourself against the wall.

Sweat trickled down the back of your neck from the heat of all the people crowded in the living room. Someone had cracked open a few windows allowing some of the cool night air to filter through. You pressed yourself against the wall as a couple squeezed by you, heading up the stairs. A sigh fell from your lips as you glanced around the room.

You were definitely not looking for Eddie, you told yourself as you searched the crowd. Your search was cut short as a guy with blonde hair and blue came to stand in front of you. A drunken smile settled on his face as he looked you up and down. He leaned close to your ear "Wanna dance," he yelled. You cringed as the smell of his beer-laced breath fanned across your face. 

"No thanks," you stated firmly. You turned your gaze away from him, indicating the conversation to be over. He moved away from you as he left, in search of another prospect.

Your eyes met Eddie's dark gaze and an audible gasp pilfered from your lips. A girl next to you gave you a questioning look and you smiled back apologetically. You turned back to Eddie and noticed that he had left and the seat beside Chrissy was now empty.

You made your way into what you believed was the kitchen, searching for a drink. The only beverages available were beer, cheap liquor, and water. You decided on a beer and you could use one to help settle your nerves.

'This is so stupid,' you said to yourself, as you took a sip of your drink, currently on your third beer. Here you were drinking this God-awful beer, at a party with people you didn't know, all for a person who didn't even like you! Who were you kidding, the only reason you were here was because Eddie scared the hell out of you. The thought of defying him sent a chill up your spine.

Your bladder began to ache slightly, protesting the liquid you had rapidly ingested. You wobbled a bit as you pushed away from the counter and headed back toward the living room. Your eyes immediately went to the spot you had last seen Eddie, finding that his spot was still empty. Chrissy had also left and was now on the dance floor with the rest of the cheer squad dancing proactively as the jocks leered nearby.

You shook your head and turned towards the staircase as you made your way upstairs. As you passed by various rooms, your ears were bombarded by an onslaught of moans and thumping immersing from the rooms.

'How many rooms does this house have,' you wondered as you walked down the carpeted hall. You tried the last room on the right, which was the only room with no noises coming from the other side. You smiled in victory when you saw it was indeed the bathroom and closed the door shut behind you.

You quickly used the bathroom and made your way to wash your hands. You were checking your reflection in the mirror when you heard the doorknob turn.

"Someone's in here," you called out, with a frown gracing your features. You had been sure that you had locked the door behind you. The person on the other side opened the door, disregarding the fact that the bathroom was occupied.

Your heart fluttered nervously as you pressed yourself against the sink. Panic began to rise within you, making your stomach twist in knots. A curly head of hair peeked in, as they slipped into the bathroom. Relief flooded through you when you realized it was just Eddie.

You visibly relaxed as you let out a sigh of relief. "Eddie, you scared the daylights outta me." Your hand flew to your chest as you let out a nervous laugh. Eddie stood with his back against the door, his gaze dark as he regarded you silently.

"Eddie," you called out uneasily. Your nerves began to rise again as you realized that Eddie had yet to say anything. You were so happy that Eddie had walked in and not some dangerous stranger, that you had momentarily forgotten that Eddie was essentially a bully to you.

The deafening sound of the lock clicking rang in your ears like an alarm. "What are you doing," you whispered, watching as he stalked towards you.

"I told you, sweetheart, that I would come find you," he replied, quickly crossing the room. He leaned into your space, placing his hands on the counter on each side of you. "Y'know y/n I was real disappointed in you earlier. Thought that you were my good girl."

"But I am— a good girl," you exclaimed hesitantly, the thought of being anything but good upset you immensely. No one had ever called you anything but good before. You were known as the straight-A student who never got in trouble, a perfectionist who could also be a little high-strung sometimes. For reasons you couldn't explain, you wanted— no you needed Eddie's approval.

He shook his head as a gleam lit up his dark irises. "Think I'm ready for you to make it up to me baby." His arms wrapped around you and he spun you both around, placing himself against the counter.

'This is wrong,' you thought to yourself. Eddie was with Chrissy and he had never once shown any type of kindness towards you. Every one of your interactions together had been with some type of intimidation involved. Deep down you knew that you liked Eddie on some level. That's why you had never asked for help, deep down you liked the attention he gave you, whether it was good or bad. You had even begun to crave it without realizing it.

There was one question that plagued you....why you? You were certain that he didn't like you, why would he want to be with you in that way? The question fell from your lips as a small frown darkened your face.

"I don't know why," he admitted honestly. His carefully schooled features slipped for a moment, allowing a genuine expression to slip through. He had tried to stay away and not think about you but you had him in a chokehold. You were always on his mind and he had failed miserably.

"But I— this isn't right Eddie! You belong to Chrissy!" Your head swam as you struggled to breathe. You were braced tightly against Eddie. The feel of every hard angle on his body, pressed roughly against your soft curves was causing your breath to come out in spurts.

"And you belong to me," he said simply. I don't need permission to take what's mine. "You are mine aren't you?” He wedged his leg between yours, pressing it directly into your middle.

You breathed in sharply at the feel of his hard thigh ground up against you and your mind went blank, unable to form a response.

"Baby, I asked you a question." His voice was stern as he stared down at you. He moved one hand to your lower back and rested the other lightly against your throat.

The cool metal of his rings bit into your skin and your eyes glaze over as you nodded your head silently. A beautiful smile lit up his face at your response. His dimples peeked out and his dark eyes shone with tiny flecks of ember in them. Your insides warmed at the sight and you decided then that you would do anything to have him look at you like that again.

He takes ahold of your hip and begins to grind you along his thigh slowly. You grab onto his shoulders quickly allowing him to guide your movements. He eases your body into a languid rhythm and all thoughts flee from your mind as your body begins to move on its own. He reaches down between you and slips his hand underneath your skirt. His fingers brush along the sides of your folds as he tugs on the front of your panties, pulling the sides to the middle and upward. Your lips swallow the fabric, applying more friction onto your clit.

Eddie's eyes are trained on you, mesmerized by the faces you're making. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you attempt to stifle your moans. A small smirk lifts the corner of his mouth as his eyes sparkle mischievously. His grip on your hips tightens as he presses you down, jerking you forward. Your reaction is immediate and a low groan leaves your lips, and your hands clasp together tightly behind his neck.

The hand around your throat tightens, limiting your air and making your head spin. "Go faster baby." His voice is stern and gruff filled with restrained desire.

You pick up speed and begin to ride his thigh in earnest. Your clit drags along the rough denim of his jeans, sparks of arousal shoot through you and your nub begins to swell from the pleasure. Your panties are saturated with your juices, making a delicious mess on his thigh. Heat spreads throughout your body making you feel like you are on fire. A stream of airy moans flows from you as your lower half pulses and clenches with an aching need to be filled.

Lust clouds Eddie's face as he leans towards you, sliding his tongue against the rim of your ear. His voice is husky as he whispers the filthiest things you've ever heard into your ear. His name falls from your lips with a gasp and your movements become frenzied as you hurtle toward your release.

"That's it baby, ride me. Yeah just like that." he praises, his eyes are dark and blown out with lust. His lips replace the hand around your throat and he starts to lick and suck into your soft skin. He doesn't stop until a pretty bruise is formed, front and center for everyone to see.

A red-hot flush spreads from head to toe as your orgasm hits. Shudders rack throughout your frame and your grinding slows down to a complete halt. You rest your forehead on his as you try to regain control over your breathing.

"Such a good girl," Eddie coos as he takes your chin into his hand softly. His eyes are soft and back to their normal dark brown color. He looks at your plump soft lips and wants nothing more than to kiss you right now. His gaze flits from your lips back to your face as he pulls your body closer to his.

Your breaths mingle together and your eyes slide shut when his nose nudges yours intimately. His lips part, tongue peeking out as he brings his lips down onto yours.

Eddie's heart stops when he feels your lips on his. Your lips are soft as you move tentatively against his, unsure of what to do. He's sure that this is your first kiss and feels proud that he's the first to have you in this way. He deepens the kiss and his fingers dig into your hips as he grips you tighter.

A loud knock pulls you both from the moment instantly. A guilty look flashes across your face as you jump from his lap, scurrying across the room.

"Occupied," Eddie yells out gruffly, pissed off at the interruption. You hear mumbling on the other side of the door before footsteps fade away. He stands up glancing down at his pants, noticing a wet spot on his dark jeans. His erection is strained against his pants, causing a noticeable budge. He looks over to you and you keep your eyes trained on the floor.

He crosses the small space over to you and you glance up at him beneath your lashes. His ringed fingers ghost over your lips as he looks down at you. "Gonna call you later tonight, sweetheart."

He lets his fingers fall from your lips and down your chin before he takes his hand away. He doesn't wait for an answer as he makes his way to the door, preparing to leave.

"Wait," you call out. He stops and turns back to you with a raised brow. "You don't have my number," you exclaim softly.

He gives you a knowing look before a laugh rumbles in his chest. "Just wait up for me sweetheart, I'll call." He gives you one last look making you clench your thighs together before he slips out the door closing it behind him.

Your mind is empty, and you feel almost giddy. You know that in the morning you'll have to think about the consequences of your actions but for tonight all is calm. You wait a few minutes to collect yourself before you exit the bathroom. You leave the party immediately and head home so you could wait for Eddie's call.

Part 2.

[shootybangbang]

The Nature of Hounds [Part 1/?]

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

Tinkering around with low honor Arthur Morgan. Unedited, feel free to point out errors and give criticism.

------

When you shake the pocket watch, it rattles with the jingle of loose parts. You frown and set it back down on the table. “This is broken. Best I can do is three dollars.”

“Get outta here with that shit.” Arthur taps the metal casing. “This is real gold. You can do at least ten.”

You weigh the watch against your palm.

“Well?”

“Gold plated.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“You know I don’t kid when there’s money on the line.”

“Lowest I’ll go on this is nine.”

“Four.”

He gives you a look.

“You think that yokel over in Emerald Ranch’ll give you a better deal?” you ask.

Seamus would buy this fucking watch for no less than fifteen fucking dollars. He’d give the thing a once over, offer a timid “I can give you five”, then buckle at a glare and go triple. And yet here he is. Following the whim of his cock and his own misplaced affections, like a bull with a lead strung through its nose.

“I’ll tell you what. Mr Kuang downstairs used to be a watchmaker. This thing doesn’t sound that busted, and he owes me a favor anyhow. I’ll do you four fifty.”

He raises his eyes up to high heaven and sighs. “Fine.”

“So adding up the rings, the pendant, the cameo, and the, uh… the teeth… I’ve got you totalling seventeen.” You slide a neatly penciled memorandum across the table. “Check my sums if you don’t believe me.”

“I ain’t botherin’ with that.”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” You sweep the little pile of stolen goods into a drawer. “Is it because you’re stupid or you’re sweet, I wonder?”

“Prob’ly the first.” He dips his head down to steal a kiss, but you press a stern palm against his shoulder and hold him at arm’s length.

“Not when I’m behind the counter.”

“Take care of this shit later.”

“Down.”

“C’mon—”

“I said down.”

So he steps back with his heart sunk one notch lower. Posts himself near the front door, arms crossed, hat brim tipped low, cleaning the dirt beneath his fingernails with a pocket knife as the rectangle of light spilled from the window begins to tick across the floorboards in a dimming dial. He presides over the thin trickle of customers and peddlers alike with a baleful eye, and it’s not until the bell tower in the square tolls five and you swing open the side gate in a flurry of swirling skirts that he can pull you in by the waist and sink into the frantic kiss that you press him with.

Locked door, shuttered windows. Hurriedly, you flip the sign posted against the glass from OPEN to CLOSED as he flattens your back against the wall and pulls the ribbon at your throat loose with a yank of his teeth. You sift your fingers through his hair, then grip hard, yanking his head back. “Three weeks without a letter, you bastard,” you snarl. “Thought they’d hanged you someplace out west."

“Aw, don’t tell me you was worried.”

“‘Course I was worried. You’re my best earner.”

The smile you flash along the slight is sweet and quick as a fleeting slip of riverlight, and he forces himself to smile back, but the truth remains that he has never come here empty handed. Still fearful of the risk that you might cut him with the same expectant look Dutch has at the end of deals gone wrong and scores lost.

Your eyes shut slow as you kiss him again. He runs his palm up your back as he finds and unclips the clasp of your blouse and the tension in your hand loosens like weakening resolve. It surprises him still, that gentling spread that flows arterial at the simple touch of his hand.

The room tucked behind the storefront is cramped and cluttered with belongings that you have only recently begun letting him examine. When you lead him in, it’s with your hands clutching his neckerchief like reins, tripping over the hazard of table corners and your lone, bystanding chair. You walk backwards into your unmade bed, and he lets you pull him atop you with an obedience he scarcely understands. You fumble to pull down his belt and he yanks down your skirt in a confusion of hands as you work to lay each other bare. “Did you miss me,” you murmur, and he answers not with words but with a violent jerk of his hips, relaying with friction what he does not know how to otherwise.

Arthur cups his hand to your cunt, trails his middle finger along the wet seam like tracing the crest of a wave. In red fantasy, he takes the time to prime you for him, spreads and sucks the soft furl of flesh with his mouth, but you have never had the patience for foreplay. It's as if the unselfish act of pleasuring you were a step too intimate; even in this, a necessary expectation of quid pro quo that you have not the inclination to entertain.

“Come on then, gunslinger,” you growl. Another kiss, fierce and carrying the admonishment of teeth. You jerk the fabric of his shirt up to reveal his chest, then stiffen and splay your hand over the filthy bandage wrapped there. “Christ.”

“It’s nothin’.”

The cloth is stained with old blood that has seeped from the locus of his wound like a rust colored bloom, and is grimy from sweat and travel. You stare at it with revulsion. “Morgan, this is disgusting.”

The prickle of shame that stretches up his spine has transitioned to sullen indignation by the time it reaches his head. “Didn’t figure someone in your line of work to be so goddamned squeamish.” He tries to pull his shirt back down. You grab his wrist.

“Keep this off,” you say. “I’m running you a bath.”

[rose-n-pepper]

Big Bad Scary Older Brother

Thinking back on the first time you met Touya Todoroki, and now you find yourself in his bed.

Chapter One(??): Meet Cute

—-------------- 

>> a/n: Please be kind, I’ve always been a fanfic reader and NEVER thought I would ever write one, but randomly I rewatched Josie and the Pussycats over the weekend (listen, I know it’s not a great movie, but the music is bomb and it is incredibly nostalgic for me. As a millennial I need nostalgia to feel things). Listening to the song “You Don’t See Me” I had this story just stroll into my mind! If this does well I have more chapters in mind to full flesh out the relationship and the song.

>> p/n: In this world, Touya survived the accident in the forest, and let's pretend that Hawks went to UA. I like the idea that they have a tight bro relationship.

>> warning: story ends with some smut, oral f receiving, a little rough but nothing over the top. MINORS DNI 

>> pairing: Touya Todoroki x fem reader

—-------------- 

The first time you met Touya Todoroki was on the front steps of the Todoroki household. He stood in front of you, the handle of the front door in his hand. His UA uniform made him more imposing as he towered over you. Echoes of the doorbell ringing throughout the house. Surprise etched on both your faces. He must have opened the door as you rang the bell.

You stumble backwards almost falling off your step. A strong hand quickly reaches out to steady you.

“Oh um, sorry, I am here to pick up Fuyumi for school.” You mutter out quickly.

“Ah you must be Y/N.” Touya smirks in response, then suddenly lets your arm go.

Still unbalanced you start falling backwards, right into a firm wall halting your fall.

“Todoroki, dude you didn’t have to let go of her like that,” two firm hands steady your fall and move you down the steps. You see a blur of red feathers move past you. “Even if you did see me, you sadistic fuck.” But the boy was laughing as he said it. As your eyes adjust you see a pair of beautiful red wings sprout from his back.

“Keigo,” you say out loud before you can stop yourself. You’ve heard endless rants from your friend Fuyumi about how dreamy Keigo is. Listened to her giggle about the life she has planned for them, even helped her practice kissing for when she finally could get him alone. “Oh sorry, um, Fuyumi has told me a lot about you is all.” You somehow mutter out as you fix your uniform which had come out of place.

“Is that so,” he smirks, “I knew it.” he looks at Touya and winks. Touya rolls his eyes in response.

“C’mon bird brain, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.” He states as he brushes past his friend down the stairs stopping in front of you. He slowly looks you up and down and says, “Nice meeting you Y/N.” Locking eyes with you he nods his head to the right, entranced you move to the side allowing him to pass, never once breaking eye contact. 

He blinked in thanks and strolled down the path with his hands in his pockets, “Let’s go birdie.” He raised one scared arm in a final goodbye wave as Keigo rushes to catch up with his friend.

“Awe man, I didn’t even get to see Fuyumi yet dude.” At that statement Touya balled his raised hand and brought it down on his friend's head.

“I told you to stop saying shit like that, it’s fucking gross,” he grabs the blondes head forcing him to walk in a bow, “I’m her older brother after all”

“Alright, alright, let me go man, I’ll stop.” responds Keigo.

You watch their figures shrink as they walk farther away, their bickering fading into the distance. You snap back to reality by your friend calling your name.

“Y/N? What happened, did Touya do something stupid? Ugh, he’s so annoying.” She says as she shuts the door behind her and skips down to where you stand.

“Oh, no, it was an accident, he didn’t really say much at all. But,” you smile at your friend, “Keigo was here.” you say in a sing song voice to her.

“What! And I missed him!” She groans and drops her bag in defeat.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it much if I were you,” you side eye her, “He seemed a little interested if you ask me.” with that you sway away from your friend following the path giggling to yourself at the dumbfounded look on your friends face. She quickly gathers up her bag and jogs after you, demanding to know the details of what was said while you laugh.

You relay the conversation that happened between the two older boys and yourself to Fuyumi who is over the moon giddy. All while brushing your hand over where Touya had grabbed your arm to steady you. It still felt warm and tingly. 

You had only ever seen pictures and heard Fuyumi talk about how annoying and mean Touya was. But you didn’t find him mean at all. He seemed kind, in a subdued way. And hell, his sister might poke fun at him for his scars, but something about them made him extra mysterious and maybe even sexy? Definitely more interesting than any other boy in your grade.

As you and Fuyumi strolled down the well known path to your school, her going on about her and Hawks life together. You wondered what it might be like to get to know Touya better. There was something about him that intrigued you, and you wanted to figure out what it was.

🍋

Thinking back on that day ten years later, you are in a daze as Touya’s head is between your legs. suckling on your sensitive bud as his tongue traces lazy circles around it earning him a pleasurable moan from you.

“Heh, finally back are you.” He says into your core, licking your juices as he continues. “What got you so distracted while I’m down here?” With that last statement he gives your thigh a quick slap which you respond with a little shriek of surprise.

“To be honest, I was thinking about you. About the first time we met.” You answer, allowing yourself to catch your breath.

He stills and locks eyes with you, a few seconds go by and he slowly climbs up your naked body, leaving hot kisses along his path. Never breaking the intense eye contact. When he reaches eye level with you he sits both of you up placing you on top of him. You straddle his hips and feel the tip of his cock, wet with precum, begging to enter you.

Smirking he asks, “the time you fell off the stairs overwhelmed with feelings for me?” He touches his forehead against yours eagerly awaiting your response as he moves his tip over your slick folds. 

You laugh and roll your eyes in amusement and pleasure. “Oh sure, falling right off the steps into the arms of the dreamy hero Hawks. Thank goodness he was there, who knows where I would be right now if he wasn’t.”

Touya’s eyes turn deadly for a fleeting moment, you know that look all to well. You smile in anticipation of the amount of pleasure you are about to receive from the man under you. You attempt to slide down on his cock to instigate his wild side a little more. You knew him well, only a little more pushing is all he needed.

“But you know,” you sigh into his ear as your fingers trace the edges of his scars and body jewelry. “All those silly little Hawklets who fawn after him must be so vanilla, they don’t know what they're missing.” You lean back a little to look him in the eye where you are met with an intense burning, “I mean, one look at the hero Dabi and you know you’re going to be fucked senseless.”

That did it, he thrust up into you with and intensity that sent your head falling back and your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Heh, you don’t think I know what you’re doing?” He asks as he bites down on your neck, you moan in response.

“You’re smart, I know you know what I’m doing. But what can I say, I’m a sucker for this dick.” You stammer out between hard thrusts.

He throws you down on the bed, never breaking his rhythm. He grasps your breasts with his hands and begins pulling and twisting your perk nipples.

“That’s my girl.” The last words he says to you that night, as he spends the next hour pleasuring you in ways you hardly dreamed of. 

🍋

Content, you smile as your wrap yourself around the muscular sleeping frame of your partner. He was never one for aftercare, he had the hardest time staying awake after your escapades. It’s something you got used to and accepted. He showed how much he cared with his physicality in your love making and that was enough for you.

You softly place a kiss to his forehead and move his white hair out of his eyes. Snuggling up next to him you close your eyes and drift off to sleep. Thinking of how you two ended up together after so long.

[oh-no-a-whovian]

Before I fall apart

Part1

18+

Pairing: Raya x wyvern shifter fem reader

Summary: a sickness is spreading through the dragon species, turning them into vicious beasts. Raya meets a dragon in human form that is searching for a cure before her own time runs out…

Warnings: nudity, dragon themed violence

Word count: 5460

Masterlist

Screaming and crying can be heard for miles as the sky turns red from ash and smoke. People trip and drop their valuables as they flee their homes before they’re burnt to the ground and crumbled into ruins. Just outside the city, the forest and farmlands turn to dust as dragon fire tears through it all.

This isn’t right. They aren’t like this. Some are kind but solitary. Some only leave their caves or abandoned castles for additions to their hoards. Some even work alongside humans, helping them and nurturing little villages, wanting nothing more than success for their little human friends. They got along with humans well enough but now it’s all wrong.

Something is spreading, tearing the minds of dragons apart and leaving them as primal bloodthirsty beasts. It doesn’t matter what branch of the species. Drakes, Wyrms, Amphitheres, Wyverns, no matter the size or age, it ends the same. Once they’re infected it’s only a matter of time. It could be hours, days or even months, you don’t even know, eventually what makes them who they are is torn away and a monster is left in their place. They can’t help but kill whatever or whoever is in their path.

The ground quakes as the city starts to crumble around you, chunks of rubble falling and crashing throughout the streets as you try desperately to get people out. The cobblestone cracks beneath your feet, making the paths ahead uneven and dangerous, one wrong move and you could fall on your face.

“Head towards the river!” You shout, freeing more humans trapped in their homes by the melting stone of the building. Overhead a massive dragon passes, tearing up the tile roofs underneath them with their flaming breath, swiping their claws at any protrusion they missed.

You roll your eyes as you notice a rather portly balding man dragging a large sack, gold and jewels spilling out onto the pavement from the poorly closed opening as he prioritises wealth over his own stupid life. Growling at him, you snatch the bag from his greedy ash covered hands, throwing it into a pile of burning thatch with ease. “Get to the fucking river” you sneer at the greedy man as he tries to gather what you’d thrown from the fire. For a moment you think he’s gonna to fight you, his glaring eyes locking onto you when he realises there’s nothing he can do to retrieve what you threw.

“Fucking bitch” he curses before running off to join the crowds running to the river.

Part of you thinks that humanity deserves this. Nature just taking control and eradicating the pests that tear her apart. If it wasn’t taking the minds of your friends and family, you’d probably even support it.

“Help!” A little voice cries somewhere above you and you step back, your sharp eyes darting around the taller buildings. High up, hanging from the ledge of the bell tower, a little girl cries. Her hands slip bit by bit as the base of the tower starts to crack. “Please help!!” She screams, her little legs flailing to try and find purchase.

Breaking into a sprint, you race toward the tower, your human legs so much slower than your normal method of travel. You leap up the wall, grabbing ledges and dislodged stones to pull yourself up to the little girl barely holding on. The satchel at your side flails wildly as you practically throw yourself up the building, covering the distance within seconds.

Just as her fingers slip, you reach her, wrapping your arm around her waist to stop her decent toward the rupturing ground. “It’s ok, I’ve got you” you whisper as she buries her face in your neck refusing to look at the distance to the street, her arms holding onto you for dear life. “I need you to hold on, ok?” You whisper and she holds on tighter, nodding as her tears stain the shoulder of your shirt. “Shit” you curse at the sight of a Wyvern heading straight for you, her mouth opening as she prepares to burn the tower to the ground.

Without a second thought you release your grip on the stones, plummeting toward the cobble stone below. The little girl screams as scorching hot flames burst above your head tearing through the top of the bell tower and toppling it. though you’re not sure if she’s screaming cause of that or the fact that you’re both falling nearly fifty feet to the street below.  

Taking the brunt of the fall, you protect the girl’s head as you roll onto the ground. Forcing yourself up and back on your feet, you stumble through the streets toward the river as the buildings fall around you and the path warps beneath your shoes.

The way ahead is blocked as more debris falls onto the path, so you turn onto the next street, hoping desperately for a way around, only to come face to face with a massive Drake using their claws to tear down a wall to get to a human who’s screaming for the lords help on the other side.

Sniffing in the air, the wingless dragon pauses, and you realise too late that the little girl in your arms is bleeding. Her little palms and shins scraped from trying to keep herself from falling from the building. You hadn’t even noticed it with the smell of blood currently covering so much of the city’s cobblestone.

The Drake snarls as their eyes lock onto you, their massive claws digging into the stone as if it were clay. You prepare yourself to use your magic, to shift back into your true from to defend against the imminent attack, when a horn blares in the distance.

Immediately everything seems to fall silent as the deep ominous tone echoes between the destroyed buildings. The Drake before you races down the street without another thought to you, running in the direction of the horn. the sound of wings overhead slowly fades as they too follow the sound calling to them.

The haunting cries of loss and devastation wail like a bean sídhe. Around you people call for their loved ones, heartrending screams following as they find their loved ones crushed or scorched in the remains of their city.

You’re barely registering any of it though as you stare to the east where the dragons collectively went, following the sound of the horn as if a crew of pirates to siren song. Everything is so wrong.

In your arms the little girl writhes as she tries to free herself from your hold. You snap out of your trance, placing the girl on the ground to watch her run, calling to her mother as she passes through the devastation, flakes of ash catching in her hair as she goes. As soon as you wonder if you should follow, a woman scoops her up, holding onto her for dear life as they cry.

“Oh, my baby. I’m so glad you’re okay” you hear the woman sob out, even from how far you are.

“That woman saved me mama” the little girl says, pointing at you amidst the rubble.

‘Thank you’ the woman mouths out before taking her child to safety, smiling through her tear-stained cheeks trailing through the soot on her skin.

I need to figure out what’s happening. You think as you look back to the east. There was at least half a dozen different dragons tearing the city apart and they just… stopped, following that horn without hesitation. You thought the disease spreading through your brothers and sisters was turning them into mere beasts but clearly there’s something more to this cursed sickness. Something sinister.

To spare the humans more fear you race down the streets and outside the city walls into a scorched vineyard, still smouldering. Heated fruits squish under your boot as you make your way through the destroyed lines of grape vines, and their sweet smells swirl to meet your nose.

You pull off your clothes, stuffing each piece into the satchel as you set it on the ash covered ground. Finally, once the last piece of your clothing is packed away in your bag, you take a deep breath through your mouth.

As you exhale slowly black smoke billows from your nostrils, forming a small whirlwind around your body. The thick dark cloud grows as cyan magic sparks from within it, shifting you from your human form into a massive wyvern with a nearly thirty-foot wingspan.

You stretch your wings out as your tail swings, each movement stirring up the ash that’s settled on the ground.

It’s been a while since you turned yourself into a human, probably the longest you’ve ever been in that form. Because of that your natural body aches as if you’d been sleeping on a pile of stones for a century.

Using the talons on your foot, you delicately grab your satchel, holding it tight as you take off.

You hear the horn sound once more, with more dragons making their way toward it. Keeping your distance you follow them east, wondering how far they’re going and why.

—————

You’ve been flying for nearly a week, far enough behind the other dragons to not be spotted. You have a feeling getting to this point would have taken less time if the dragons ahead of you didn’t leave destruction in their wake.

You stopped at ten different villages and two cities, shifting back into a human to help those in need as their homes burnt around them. Eventually it got to the point that you couldn’t understand the language people were speaking, having to cast a new translation spell just so you could understand them.

You hate seeing the humans dealing with such devastation, and though you’ve been trying so hard to help, you can’t undo what’s happening to them. As much as you’ve learnt from the grimoire you keep in your satchel, you know that even if you could bring back the dead, you shouldn’t. You just hope that you’ll find a cure for the dragons wherever they’re heading, and the humans will understand it isn’t the dragon’s faults. You hope the reputation of your species isn’t tarnished permanently.

You’d lost the hoard of dragons about two hours ago, too busy tying to help the people of the island city in the middle of the river after the hoard had torn up the place with their flames.

You’re glancing left and right, your wings a steady beat as you fly southeast over the river toward a large stone arch. You swear you spotted a familiar wyvern heading this way… The black with green gradient caught your eyes moments after you’d left the city that the people called Fang. You haven’t seen your brother in years, but you’d recognise him anywhere.

You’re not sure how you’d lost sight of him, he was right ahead of you, flying effortlessly toward the stone arch alone. You’d glanced away for only a second, casting your eyes toward the horn sounding out once more, but when you looked back he was gone.

You pause above the river, looking around to catch any sight of his green and black wings around the arch and forest. Your own wings beat powerfully, holding you in place high above the water.

Without warning fangs sink into the shoulder of your right wing, a massive weight crashing into you from above. You try to get him off as his weight sends you plummeting towards the river below. You snap and snarl at him, desperate to get his claws out of your back and his sharp fangs from your shoulder.

Cursing internally, you cast the magic to shift back into a human, slipping from your brother’s violent grasp. You barely get a hold of your satchel before you crash into the water below.

—————

Raya’s POV

The brush in her hand passes gently over the paper, her words filling out the letter to the leader of tail. It’s the final part of her assigned duties of the day before she can finally go meet Sisu and her friends to enjoy her birthday.

Six years have passed since the Druun were defeated, and everyone was freed from their statuesque prisons. Everyone who lives on the dragon shaped river system have come together, finally uniting after years of conflict and mistrust. She knows she was the same, anger and hatred filling her as she searched for Sisu down every river. She had to grow up alone and fast, how could she possibly turn out any other way.

It was hard for everyone, adjusting back into the world with people who’d been stone for years. She cried far too many times with her father, mourning the years they never had together. With all those years lost she worries, even now, that her father will never truly know her. She’s done her best though, to act like everything is fine, like the years alone aren’t a permanent scar on her soul.

As she signs off the letter she grins, hurriedly cleaning her brush of ink and propping it up to dry safely so she can race down and meet her friends at the bridge.

“Raya, have you finished your duties?” Her ba asks when he spots her passing the kitchen doorway, an eyebrow raised in her direction.  He’s been preparing her to be leader of heart, continuing the training he’d started so many years ago. He’s been steadily giving her more duties, allowing her to learn to balance them and her life.

She pauses just the other side of the doorway, stepping backward to peek back at him. “Yes ba. All the letters to leaders from Head to Tail are written and drying.” She starts, walking in to stand by her father while he helps craft lunch. “I’ve listed out possible solutions to farmer’s requests for better access to the river water and made sure the imports and exports are flowing smoothly.”

“You’ve taken to leadership quite well these past years.” Her father smiles, his pride for her practically radiating from him, but also the familiar sadness. “I am proud of the woman you’ve become. Now go, enjoy your birthday, but make sure you’re back for lunch.”

“Yes ba, thank you” she bows to him, showing her father the respect he deserves.

————

Her people greet her and give birthday wishes as she makes her way down through the market to the bridge that connects Heart to the mainland. Conversation and laughter fill the air as men and women trade in the market and little kids stand by their parents, rolling their eyes as their conversation goes for way too long.

She smiles as she spots Namaari and Sisu, excited to see her friends after months of focusing on her duties to Her home and people. The others haven’t arrived yet but she’s sure they aren’t far behind, a couple of them have to be brought by their parents after all.

“Hey!” She smiles, hugging Sisu then Namaari, the dragon almost crushing her in excitement.

“Happy birthday Raya!” Sisu says with a sharp toothed smile, her excitable personality shining through, especially strong on birthdays. 

“Happy birthday.” Namaari follows, her smile far more placid.

“The others won’t be here for about another hour, maybe we can….” Sisu starts, pausing at a weird noise echoing through the air.

High above the river, a reptile like creature pauses, it’s giant bat like wings steadily beating as it scans the area for something. 

From the tips of its wings a deep purple spreads like lighting into the black of its body. The scales down its stomach are light blue, maybe cyan, standing out against the blacks and purples of the rest of it. Like a bats wings, its giant ones are like skin stretched between long fingers, with massive claws at the joint. Its back legs hang down with its long tail. One of its taloned feet seems to be clenched shut, while the other flexes.

 A dark dot appears high above it, steadily growing as it seems to plummet straight for the creature above the river. 

In a blink another creature like the first but with green crashes into it, sinking its teeth into the wing of the purple one and digging claws into its back. The purple one snaps and snarls as the two plummet toward the river, its neck not long enough to reach around to bite the other. Raya and her friends watch in mute horror as the beasts fall, not even sure what they are.

A dark cloud of smoke swirls around the creatures and one seems to just vanish within it.

“Shit, shit, shit!” They hear a woman shout, her nude body suddenly falling from the dispersing smoke, desperately clasping at a bag falling with her. Her body crashes into the rushing water below, and Sisu dives into the water after her.

Raya and Namaari race down to the riverbank, helping Sisu as she drags the coughing woman back onto land. Above the other creature watches the events happening below it, then simply flies away as if it means nothing now.

“You shouldn’t… have… done that.” The nude woman coughs as she pulls herself onto her knees, staring at the dragon who saved her. The wounds she should have from the attack shrink into tiny scars as she gasps for breath, trying to rid her lungs of the water she most likely breathed in.

“Would you rather she let you drown?” Raya asks, her cheeks warming as she tries to avoid looking at the naked woman before her.

“No, and I… am grateful, but…” she sighs, hugging her soaked satchel to her chest and looking back at Sisu. “You may have just doomed yourself…”

“What do you mean?” Namaari asks, taking her words as a threat toward Sisu, placing her hand on the sword at her hip.

“You’re a type of dragon, right?” She asks Sisu, ignoring the humans present, and the dragon nods. “So am I. And there is a terrible disease coursing through our species.”

Raya’s concern about the nudity before her vanishes, the warmth on her cheeks fading as fear for her friend and the rest of the dragons takes hold.

“What do you mean?” her eyes locking on the beautiful nude woman before her. 

“Look, I don’t really have time to explain things here, I’m on borrowed time as it is.” The woman coughs, pushing herself to her feet. The woman’s legs wobble and Raya reacts, reaching for the woman before she collapses.

“You just breathed in a bunch of water, at least catch your breath.” Raya can see the argument in her eyes as she holds her up way too close.

“fine” the woman sighs, pulling away. Raya’s skin tingles where the woman had touched, so warm and soft despite being soaking wet. Her cheeks heat once more as she realises, she was holding onto a very beautiful, very naked woman. She glances to her friends, hoping they hadn’t noticed but they very much had, both of them smirking at her. or at least she thinks Sisu is smirking… “shit” the woman curses, staring dejectedly into her satchel.

“What?”

“My clothes are soaked.”

—————

[Y/N] POV

Six months ago, the first dragon fell victim to a terrible sickness that now runs rampant through the species. A growing Drake, still in his birth cave with his siblings and mother, started acting different. He became snappy, angry, lashing out at even the littlest things. His mother chalked it up to him being a growing young dragon, that he’d soon leave the nest and find his way in the world and all the attitude would mellow out.

One day he just… snapped. He tore apart two of his sisters and there was nothing his mother could do to stop him; she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him. He began to run rampant, burning down the villages nearby and eating any human or farm animal he found until the humans finally put him down.

Eventually the rest of his family started showing symptoms too, and so did others that came into contact with them and him. It was spreading so fast, and there was no way to know who was infected until it was too late.

In moments of lucidity, as the disease seemed to tear into them, some explained they could hear whispers and screams as their minds started to go. Some shook their heads, and clawed at their skulls, trying to get the disease out as if they could feel it writhing within them.

Three months into the spread of the illness the first of your family begun to show symptoms. The irritation over nothing, jumping at sounds that don’t exist, attacking shadows, and eventually the total loss of their higher thinking.

You’d watched in horror from a distance as one by one, your own family joined the hoard of rampaging beasts that used to be highly intelligent dragons.

You studied the grimoire you were gifted when you were a hatchling until your eyes hurt, trying desperately to find a cure using the magics inside. But what could you do? You were one wyvern, barely considered grown to some despite being twenty-five in human years. 

The only other dragon even capable of helping eventually went mad too, succumbing to the sickness and killing the few humans that had offered their aid.

All you could do was follow along, help who you could and search for a cure along the way. You’d done your best to keep your distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time. You’d come in contact with too many that had turned for you not to be infected too.

Every step forward you thought you had taken wound up being two steps back. You searched libraries, consulted with witches and thieves for just a tiny piece to this ever-growing puzzle. Nothing seemed to be enough. And you’re starting to lose hope it ever will be.

———————

You wait in silence for their responses, sitting on the stone windowsill of Raya’s room. She’d handed you some clothes after sneaking you in, and you’d told the horrible story of the past six months as you pulled on the simple brown pants and yellow sleeveless shirt. Not exactly a colour you’d usually wear but you don’t have a choice until your clothes are dry.

“How many other infected dragons are gonna be heading this way?” Raya asks, breaking the fearful silence.

“I was following a group of about fifty, but if all the infected are heading this way, then hundreds could show up.” You sigh, watching as Raya starts pacing the room in front of you. “The ones I was following dispersed after attacking a city northwest of here on the river, Fang I think they called themselves?”

“Wait, Fang was attacked?” Namaari practically shouts, leaping up from where she was sitting. “I need to go home and help my people.” She says, grabbing her satchel and quickly hugging Sisu and Raya.

“Of course, be safe.” Raya smiles. “Find the others and tell them to head back and warn their people too.”

“Sisu, you should warn your family and any others. They need to know to stay away from any dragons coming from the west.” You pipe up before Namaari leaves.

“Of course, yes!” The dragon in human form says, fidgeting as she rises from her cross-legged pose on the bed. “I’ll give you a ride, Namaari.”

You move forward before the dragon has a chance to leave, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Keep your distance when you do…” you tell her sadly “you don’t want to be the reason they get infected…”

She looks like she’s about to cry as she nods, making her way out with Namaari. It makes you sick to think that you could be the reason that she’ll become like the other dragons, that her saving your life could be what seals her fate.

From the half hour you’ve known her you can already tell she’s incredibly trusting and caring, you’d never want to see someone like that be torn away.

“I’m sorry” you tell Raya once it’s just the two of you left in her room.

“for what?”

“I could be the reason your friend loses herself, that you lose her…” you breathe, sitting down heavily onto her bed. “That was my brother that attacked me above the river… part of me was hoping… some of him was still in there. That he’d lead me the right direction and help me save him.” You tell her, running your fingers into your hair, feeling the pull against each strand. “But I was wrong… he’d realised I was following and lured me in to attack me.”

“I don’t blame you.” She says, taking a seat arm’s length from you. “Even if Sisu knew, she probably still would have saved you from the river. She’s like that” She smiles, her dark brown eyes showing great fondness for the dragon. “I’m sorry you had to go through that”.

The moment of emotion disappears quickly from her eyes as the worry for her friends and the other people of the region sobers her emotional thoughts.

“What was your plan?” she questions, shifting to face you better.

“I didn’t really have one… I was just following, and I guess hoping I’d just find the way to help them.” You admit, staring at your bare feet as you flex your toes.

“Well, you said the group you were following dispersed when they reached this river, maybe…”

“Raya, are you in here?” a man called freezing at the sight of a stranger in Raya’s room. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Ba, this is….” Raya starts, pausing awkwardly, realising they hadn’t asked your name when they told you theirs.

“[Y/N]. My name is [Y/N]” you bow, the same way you’ve seen a nobleman bow to a king. They both look at you oddly but say nothing, you assume it’s because woman usually curtsy?  

“An honour to meet you.” He bows his head before turning to his daughter. “Raya, I just saw Sisu and Namaari leave, is something wrong? The celebration lunch is almost ready.”

“Celebration?”

“oh, It’s my birthday.” Raya says almost dismissively. “How about we sit down and have lunch while I fill you in. Ok ba?” She practically drags the man, her father, from her room, gesturing for you to follow.

Unsure, you glance out the window. You really should continue trying to find where the hoard of rabid dragons went. You’re not sure if this detour is in your best interest, your time feeling far too limited. Yet you find yourself following Raya nonetheless. It sounded like she might have an idea and it might be better than the nothing you’re working with…  

-----

You’re fidgeting, your leg bouncing as you stare out the window carved from the stone. You didn’t have time to explain it the first time but now you’re waiting for Raya to explain it all again to her father. He’d placed a bowl of some kind of soup before you, Raya and himself, then settled down as if there wasn’t a massive war breaking out so close to his home. You’ve barely touched it despite your hunger and the delicious spicy taste. All you can focus on is saving your family, your species.

Your mind goes back to your brother as the two humans talk. He’d attacked you, no hesitation or recognition. You hadn’t seen him since long before everything started happening. He left the cave when he turned twenty, you were only fifteen, still a baby in your mother’s eyes. He visited a few times after, but once you too left the nest you hadn’t seen him again.                                                        To see him like that… it fucking hurt both emotionally and literally.

What are you supposed to do?

“I want to help her” you hear Raya say over your thoughts and your eyes shift to her brown ones that seem to be seeking your approval.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea… it didn’t end well for the last humans that tried to help.” You don’t want a repeat of that, and you definitely don’t want to be the one that causes it. just being here is already a risk.

“You said there was a horn that called the dragons this way, right?” she recounts, making sure she remembers what you had said.

“Yes…” you hesitate, wondering where she’s going with this. It’s been a constant, for a while the dragons attack places then the horn blares and all carnage stops. The raging dragons simply follow the sound as if all else vanishes.

“So, maybe we can find the source of that?”

“I’ve been trying find the source. But I’m not taking you. I’m not risking any more human lives.” You tell her, glancing at her father as you rise from your seat. “Not only am I at risk of getting attacked, but I could also be infected. I don’t want to be the cause of another death.”

“Do you have any of the symptoms?” her father askes and you shake your head no. “how long after symptoms show do they fully succumb to this illness?”

“Anywhere between a few days and a month.” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to remember certain details. “My friend theorised that it’s based on age or size… the smaller and younger ones snapped fastest I think.”

“You think?” Raya questions, the air of unimpressed at your uncertainty.

“He wrote it down, but his notes were lost when he died.” You tell her, rolling your eyes as you look out of the window overlooking to river, your palms leaning on the near smooth stone frame.

“How did he die?” you can hear the frown in her voice so you’re pretty sure she guessed the answer already.

“Burnt to death by one of the dragons he was observing. It doesn’t matter.” Dismissing the line of thought as you turn to face her once more. “What does matter is that I don’t remember his notes and I’m not willing to risk someone’s life if I’m wrong.” 

“I think you should stay out of it, Raya, we will seek shelter if needed, rebuild even, but we don’t know enough of these western dragons to help.” Her father states, a sense of finality to his words. but instead of backing down, the young woman glares at him.

“Ba, I spent six years alone, I can make my own decisions.” You notice the way the man seems to flinch at her sharp words, though you don’t understand the full meaning behind them, you can clearly see it upset them both. “She could be the only one trying to find a cure at this point, if she succumbs to it then there will be no one, she needs help!” She left her seat as she spoke, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to drive her point home.  “we can’t let this happen to the dragons.”

“Raya” her father warns, glaring at her as he too stands, the soups on the table forgotten.

“You told me a leader always does what’s right. I did what was right when the Druun took over and I will do it again now.”

You watch her as she speaks, her determination and passion clear as day. It’s probably her love for Sisu driving her to care so much about this dangerous plague. Maybe her love for her people making her want to stop the carnage before it comes to her door.

“You’re not gonna take no for an answer, are you?” you ask her, her dark brown eyes meeting yours with a smirk on her lips. There’s a fire in her eyes and you swear it rivals that of a dragon’s mighty breath, it makes your heart beat just a little louder at the sight of it. She’s determined and strong willed, clearly no matter what you or her father says she will help.

“no” she says, finally releasing the firm grip she had on your arm. “I’m gonna help, ba. You should make sure our people are ready for if… when the dragons come this way.”

She seems so sure of herself, though you’re not sure if that’s a good thing. You have missed having help… maybe she really can spot something that you can’t… I’m gonna regret this you think to yourself, listening to her ideas as you follow her back to her room.

You just hope you’ll be able to get her out of the way if something bad happens, cause she’s clearly coming with you.

A/N; had this little idea for a while, finally finished the first chapter!! Remember! Like and reblog to share the love!!!

[merakiui]

I will always love how you will get on your knees for Azul in a heart beat but in the same breathe slander him (we love the duality). But now I’m curious, top bedrooms in twst that you would like to be taken in, and/or if we just wanna be a little more daring, what are the top places you would like to be taken by and who? Like whether it be in the Monstro lounge by the twins, the Heartslabyul maze by Cater, bell tower by Rollo.

OOOOOO good questions!!! there are so many places in the twst world that would be absolutely amazing to be taken in. orz please forgive the shameless simping written below.

top bedrooms

✧ azul's room but at night specifically because omg the ambience!!!! his bed looks really soft and comfortable as well, and it would be so nice to wake up in it in the morning and eat pastries and casually chat after a long night hehe.

✧ riddle's room because i really like the canopy bed he has. also all of the red... so pretty and cute. T_T he could use a riding crop on me. he could use a collar on me. he could tie me up and step on me. anything riddle wants, riddle will get. orz but also slow, soft, romantic sex would be so nice with him. let's cry through our orgasms together, riddle. <3

✧ jade and floyd's room because the way it is visually split in half is so apparent but also so fun. floyd's messy bed would be fun to fuck in, but i also feel like the twins might push the beds together for more space (or maybe they will leave one bed for not much space just to make things more cramped). >:) i'd like to make a mess of jade's nicely made bed and in return he can make a mess of me. sandwiched by two mafia eels... aaaaa i am leaving the room bruised and littered in bites, but that is okay because i'll probably find myself back there next weekend so they can open the bite marks once again.

✧ rook's room is just so elegant (ignoring the peeling wallpaper that reveals candid photographs). i like the canopy with the moons and stars. it's very pretty!! sex with rook would be so nice because no matter what he would be so sweet and wonderful, albeit a little troublesome when he starts waxing poetry when he's buried so deeply. but a man who is so eloquent with words must be good with his mouth, so do not let me down, mr. hunt!!!

✧ vil's room is also very elegant!! i would happily spend a night in there with vil. but it would feel like the room of a royal because of how lavish it looks, so it will take some time to get used to. it's a pretty room for a pretty man. (♡▽♡)

✧ idia's bedroom is messy, but i think his bed looks so comfortable. i'll put on whatever cosplay he wants. i will wear the maid outfit and the cat ears and the cow print lingerie. anything for my cute gamer boyfriend!! sleepy sex would be so nice with him.

✧ malleus's room has a very gothic charm to it (as does all of diasomnia). i would definitely like to be taken there, but maybe while it's raining for extra sleepy ambience.

top locations

✧ mostro lounge in the booths or in azul's vip room. but most importantly: MOSTRO LOUNGE AQUARIUM OMG...... admittedly, the aquarium scene in azul thought four was very self-indulgent because it's just so pretty at night. the glowing illumination... the sea life and the pretty corals aaaa!! it's really too perfect for sex and monsterfucking. it doesn't matter if it's azul, the twins, one of the twins, all three of them. in conclusion, someone is leaving that aquarium filled and (spoilers) it is me. :^) azul's vip room would be fun because the twins could fuck me so good against azul's desk or on the sofas; omg or on the sofa while azul's horny gripping through his paperwork hehe. omg also getting railed against the bar in mostro lounge by floyd because he's too bored and uninspired to mix new drinks!!!! orz orz orz just one chance, floyd. please.

✧ in this tunnel hallway!!!! it would be so good at night... we don't even need to have sex there. i would just love to make out with any of the octavinelle trio against the glass. but also making out there with riddle and we have to be chased away by an annoyed azul!!! aaaaaa rivalry. <3

✧ another place i would absolutely make out in would be the hall of mirrors. getting so wrapped up with any of them and we fall through one of the mirrors hehe. falling through the octavinelle mirror with riddle or through the heartslabyul mirror with azul... omg.

✧ ABSOLUTELY THE BELL TOWER WITH ROLLO OTL there's something so exhilarating about being so high up and vulnerable... but also i think any shadowed space within noble bell would be good for quick trysts. i will give president flamm the best head of his life wherever he wants. he deserves good head, lots of love, and many warm, buttery croissants!! <3

✧ styx private room....... styx idia could do whatever he wants to me in there. just dress me up as your little lab rat with those choker collars and i will do anything for you, mr. acting director. :) also the styx control room!!! i'll give idia the sloppiest head under the desk while he's reviewing gathered data and after that he can rail me on the table.

✧ savanaclaw lounge at night hehe. sex in the pool under the waterfall would be so fun aaaaaaa. leona, i will do all the work. just sit back and let me ride. <3 the entire dorm could use me if they wanted. i will not complain.

✧ scarabia lounge at night!!!!!! the open air!!! the cushions and rugs!!!! the moonlight!!!!! i would get drunk and silly with kalim and jamil there. someone is becoming a father that night.

✧ heartslabyul kitchen with trey. <3 OOHHH TREY.... TREY!!!!! OTL i am down so horrendous for the sweet and secretly mischievous baker who would fuck me so good against the countertop. orz and then right after that he'd have a delicious pastry and some tea waiting. call me a donut with how cream-filled i will be afterwards.

✧ unbirthday party... orz new tradition: everyone can rail me against the tables. yes, it will ruin the display. yes, it will be messy. but it would be so fun omg.

✧ the rose maze with cater and his clones would also be fun!!! truthfully, i would fuck cater anywhere in heartslabyul because it would be really enjoyable with him (just two best friends with benefits having some quality time together hehe). also, getting caught by riddle would be fun. "you're getting your fluids on the furniture with these indecent acts!!!! >:( off with your head!!!!" riddle just does not know the best medicine for stress is sex. :( if it's off with my head, how can i possibly give it to him??? truly a dilemma...

✧ wherever the housewardens have their meetings. i could take all of them. >:) i will take all of them. they do not call the ramshackle prefect the beast tamer for nothing!!!!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

[velvetwarfare]

mmmm her design is actually hard in this one cause like

I want her to look scary and show she holds power, but I also want her to still embrace her love for fashion too since this verse is a step up from her Vee’s verse — she’s still affiliated with them. So I gave her more jewelry as well.

Jewelry is both a nod toward her Shavali heritage where they wore a lot of beads and bells (I forgot the bells FUCK but I’ll add them and put little Skaven symbols on them too because she still actually wears those on her person as is just not when she’s dressed for the V tower) , and upside down crosses as a fuck you to Heaven.

I want her sleeves to be cut to showcase her muscles and wear her former clan brandings like trophies, especially since she dragged her ratmen down to Hell with her.

I’ll put a red moon behind her and like a rat king circle too once I start coloring but I’m just being indecisive rn.

[batbratsbrokenwing]

WIP Wednesday

A Gotham Knights au/slight canon divergence; where Turner has an older brother, his brother knows the Row twins, and things just happen differently. The main premise is the same: trying to figure out who murdered their father and why.

Enjoy this long snippet from my fic, Broken Wings.

“So, help me God, Turner, I am not above breaking and entering. Don’t think that just because you’re my brother I won’t bust down this door! I have done it before, and I will do it again. Swear to God, I’m not afraid of the GCPD. Do not test me,” Hunter shouted, fists pounding rapidly against the wooden barrier.

He was so engrossed in getting his brother’s attention that he failed to notice Cullen approaching behind him until he appeared at his side. “Jesus Christ. Will you stop doing that? It’s fucking creepy, make some noise or something.”

Cullen just smiled. Hunter hated that after so many years he could still sneak up on him if he did it right. He wondered if it was Cullen’s favorite thing to do, but decided he would rather not know the answer.

Hunter and Cullen had been fixed points in each other’s lives for as long as they could remember, neither of them planned on changing that.

“Are you really going to stand there yelling at him through the door?” Cullen asked, tilting his head, amused. “Imagine if we had neighbors.”

“We live in a bell tower, Cullen.”

“That’s the joke, Hunter.”

“Alright, well. Piss off.”

“Is this actually necessary?”

“Yes, quite. Though, it wouldn’t be if Turner would open the fucking door!” Hunter screamed again, raising his fists to rap at it once more. He paused with his arms halfway up, his hands went lax in front of him, and his eyes widened in shock. “Shit” — he blanched at the rawness of his voice, the sharp edge it held — “Sorry, Cullen.” He tried not to lose his temper in front of him, it was an unspoken rule he had upheld until now.

Cullen shook his head, a wide smile stretched across his lips, and a laugh crawled up the back of his throat. He pulled his lockpicking kit from his back pocket, nodding toward the door. “Hunter Hayes, I have seen you monumentally lose your shit over way less. Please don’t stop on my account. Now, should I pick the lock or do you wanna continue with this riveting display? Clearly, it’s working for you.”

Hunter furrowed his eyebrows and stepped aside. His cheeks flamed a dark shade of red that quickly spread across the bridge of his nose to the tip of each ear. It wasn’t the first time Cullen had caught him mid-tantrum and it probably wouldn’t be the last, he was full of piss and vinegar and suppressed frenetic energy. Cullen never seemed to mind.

Hunter took a moment to breathe, inhaling the calmness that Cullen’s presence brought, and exhaling the anger he felt at having his brother storm right past him without a word. Their growing maturity did little to stop the brotherly grievances between them; Hunter often hated the competition for their father’s affection. Cullen had always been a welcome balm for both.

Hunter zeroed in on Cullen’s hands moving the tension wrench and hook pick in the lock, marveled at his ability to move his fingers with such precision, and tried not to get caught staring. The crush he harbored for Cullen would remain unnamed even if he had to tear his own heart and tongue out to do so. Turner was the only one who knew.

“What did he do this time?”

Hunter’s trance-like gaze moved from the door to Cullen who was looking up at him expectantly. He squinted, cleared his throat, and wrung the end of his pullover sweater between his hands. “What?”

Cullen chuckled. “I said, what did Turner do that has you all fucked up this time?”

“No clue,” he admitted, frowning. His left hand went to his hair, fingers tugging harshly at the roots. “He hasn’t said a word to me since he got back from training with Carrie, he just shut himself upstairs and hasn’t come out.”

“Wait a minute, you don’t even know what you’re mad at him for?”

“Um ... no? But, I mean, he blew past me like I wasn’t even there, and he’s been ignoring my attempts to talk all evening. So.”

“So, what? H, I say this as your best friend with all of the respect I can pull out of my ass, grow the fuck up.”

“Hey, whoa. Rude.”

“Turner is a big kid, okay? He can take care of himself, and he can decide whether he wants to talk about what’s going on without his big brother hovering so close all the time.”

“That’s not— But he’s—”

“Seventeen, and he knows how to handle himself.”

“I am not hovering.”

“You are. You’re also pouting.”

Hunter leveled a glare on Cullen where he stood, now facing him. They knew each other inside and out, countless times they had witnessed the peak of anxiety and panic that followed when things happened that they did not understand. Hunter believed his anger was the only way he could control the uncontrollable, and he didn’t know how to turn it off. Cullen never asked him to.

He knew Cullen was right, he always was. It was hard for Hunter to relinquish control, to back off and worry less, to go against every instinct that he had and let Turner find his own way. He was the oldest, his job for 17 years had been watching out for his little brother. When their parents died, he vowed never to stop.

“Look, take it from someone whose sister still acts like he’s going to break if she isn’t right up his ass. You will both be better for it if you just let him be.” Cullen laid a reassuring hand on Hunter’s shoulder and offered a soft understanding smile. “My point is, you will be fine if you can’t control this one thing, H. And Turner’s got this, whatever this is.”

Hunter glanced at the door, hoped Turner knew that he would be there when he was ready, and allowed Cullen to guide him back to the tower where Harper and Stephanie were. Down the hall he could hear his friends laughing, his best friends enjoying the quiet evening.

He would give anything to feel that freedom.

“Come on, Pup,” Cullen said, pulling him by the elbow. “Harper has something to show us. Turner will join when he’s ready.”

Hunter threw his head back, whining. Cullen insisted on using that godforsaken nickname to refer to him and he hated it. Ever since he told the twins that his father was Batman, Cullen couldn’t let it go.

“Or we could just not do Pup. You know? Pup is not a thing.”

“I’ve said it, like, twice.”

“You perpetuate its use, C.”

“It’s cute!”

“It’s demeaning.”

“Oh, do not give me that bullshit. You’re the son of renowned billionaire, CEO, and vigilante, Bruce Wayne-slash-Batman. And do you know what a baby bat is called, Hunter? Pup. It’s called a pup.”

“I’d like to state for the record, one more time, that I never actually knew that Bruce was Batman.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” Cullen shrugged.

Hunter scoffed, made a noise of displeasure and threw himself bodily into the leather armchair. It smelled heavily of Bruce’s aftershave and cologne, as if he’d just been sitting in it. He remembered when he and Turner were little, the way Bruce would sit each of them on one side and share stories from his childhood. How had they convinced Harvey to let them take it?

“Hey,” Cullen said, digging his elbow into Hunter’s side from his perch on the armrest. “He’ll be fine.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, shoved Cullen off, and gave him the finger. “Fuck off, Row. I don’t wanna hear it.”

[truepcwer]

devil in the garden | plotted starter

It wasn't often that Vergil actually took time on the weekends to himself. With business meetings, paperwork, hounding on his brother to keep his shops lights on; Vergil had a habit of treading through the work week on autopilot. The CEO ran his many businesses with an iron fist and half of the time he didn't trust anyone to not fuck up any of his work.

Not that long ago, his father Sparda had handed down the mantel of Celestial Dynamics to take care and run since he was the most responsible out of himself and his twin brother, Dante. Even though Vergil never displayed or shown nervousness, it towered over him like a shadow ready to smother him at any point. It was part of the reason why he was so judgmental about every action that was made within his grasp. From having the best cooks and staff for restaurants , to the finest fashion and designers to the various clothing brands that represented the company. Vergil had to make sure everything was up to standard, if not surpassing it.

However, it was the weekend, and for once, Vergil found himself wandered the city that admired from the highest floor of his office. Looking out into a concrete jungle was a different experience compared to actually walking in it. Even though, he had received different glances and even had photos snapped of him as he walked through the streets he found it peacefully nonetheless.

Dressed in more business casual appearance, he wore dark washed jeans, a navy blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his pale complexion, in addition to black loafers. Taking a tip from Dante, he wore black sunglasses that stood out against his white hair that was slicked back in his usual style. Unlike his brother, Vergil liked to keep a very, clean appearance. Regardless if he was conducting business or simply just enjoying a weekend.

As the half devil walked the streets, a familiar scent came across his path. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the garden that his family once had before they came up in money and relocated for the business advantages. Memories of playing in the fields with his brother before they would play fight to assert dominance over each other, the sounds of his mothers voice lingering in the air when she would tell them to stop. The feeling on the sun rays on his skin despite never getting a tan no matter how many hours in the day they spent. A soft smile graced his features as he followed the scent like a bloodhound. It only took him a couple of steps before he found himself in front of a shop door.

Taking a moment, he felt as if he opened this door the course of his life would altered. As if once he passed the threshold, everything he knew would be thrown for a loop. Are you sure? A voice in his mind whispered as he gripped the handle of the door like his life depending on it. Whatever the concern was, he pushed it to the side and opened the door, hearing the sound of the bell ring. Clearly that would indicate to the owner that he had entered. As he looked around, he found himself in a beautiful store surrounded by different floral arrangements, a feeling of peace washed over him until something...no, someone caught his attention. It was a woman, a very beautiful woman.

Carefully and slowly, Vergil removed his sunglasses as he studied her. She was small but she wasn't without curves and lushes locks that complimented her features. The way she stood among the flowers it was like he was Hades himself gazing upon Persephone for the first time. There was a feeling in his stomach that he never felt before. Maybe he ate something bad for lunch? No that couldn't be it, felt different than that, perhaps he'd give a call to the family physician just to double check he was coming down with something. It took him a moment to find his words as he gripped the side of his sunglasses before finally folding them in and slipping them in his jean pocket. How long has been standing in the door way? Finally coming to, he took a small step out of the way and cleared his throat, hoping it would be loud enough to get the woman's attention. Finally finding his words, he parted them to speak. " Hello. "

plotted starter / plotted romantic dynamic between Vergil & Cyndi Rodriquez of @indigodreames

[mrwexleysr]

Where: Sada's Loft When: Dec 17th, Noon

"He's dead, Sada! Laying there in his room, naked and dead, and now I have to explain to this entire building what happened? You truly think that's going to stay hush hush?" Almost able to feel the vein in his forehead threatening to burst, Tobias stared with incredulity at the woman who stood before him, cold and emotionless as ice.

"What do you expect me to say to you? You killed him."

"Excuse me?" The sharpness to Sada's gaze took on a razor's edge, locking on the man who had designated himself the leader of this little pack just because he owned the building. "I did nothing of the sort. Are you proposing that I caused the leak? If I had wanted to kill him, Tobias, I wouldn't have done it stuffing chimneys."

Heavy white fur swathed around her as scoffed in his face, Sada stepped around the man and toward her bar, speaking as she pulled down two glasses and filled them each to the halfway point with rich amber liquid. "Hawthorn was my... lover-" Though she almost cringed at the word. "I didn't want him dead. He knew what he was getting into, and it was consensual." Especially once she'd convinced him of just how badly he deserved to be punished for moving on so quickly when he'd thought her a victim of the outbreak.

"I don't need to hear about your intimate life, Sada. People are going to want something done about this. The fact that you forgot about him there is almost criminal in and of itself." Had she realized and untied him as soon as the alarm bells had been rung maybe he could have been saved.

Ignoring the drink for now, blood boiling as he watched her sip her own with a restrained rage he could see bubbling behind the porcelain mask she'd perfected.

"And who exactly made you judge, jury, and jailer? So now because you own the building you're president of this little community, is that right? Going to put me on trail? Send me Wexley jail?" Sneering the words on the back of a dismissive chuckle, she took another long sip off of her drink, stepping around the bar to all but shove the drink into his hand.

"What do you think would ever happen if there was a vote? Let the people decide who they want to lead them? I have my people here, too, Tobias. I'm far more one of them than you are, living forever up here in your lord's tower. How loyal do you think your serfs really are?"

"Are you threatening me, Sada? This is not the time for divisiveness. Winter is coming and all conflict is going to do is make things harder on us all. You fucked up. You will have to face the consequences." Reaching over to tip his glass so the scotch inside found a new home in her own glass, Tobias set it down on the table next to him.

"You're to be confined to a suite on the fourth floor next to the scouting headquarters until we can decide the best course of action. I have Mal turning the locks around as we speak. You can gather some things and come with quietly, but I won't hesitate to remove you with force if I have to."

"Fine." Looking down at the glass in her hand filled with liquor worth more than the rent than the apartment she'd be kept in, Sada tossed it to the floor at his feet and turned to head into her room without a second look back at the mess it'd made as it smashed on the marble flooring.

Returning not long after with an extremely large suitcase stuffed absolutely to the brim rolling along behind her and a large duffle bag slung over one shoulder, bunching up the sleeve of her polar bear fur coat. Bottoms of her platformed Louboutin's and the wheels of the suitcase crunching over glass she shoved the handle at him and then pushed past, obviously expecting him to carry it down. As if she'd be sleeping on whatever bedding was down there. "This is such a joke. You're a joke."

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say, Sada."

Taking a hold of the handle of the suitcase, he ignored that scotch that was soaking through his shoes and trailing along in two tracks off the wheels trollying along behind them. It'd be a wonder if they survived the stairs as he fully planned to just let it bounce down them behind him.