#(not included here but the little moment where she removes the hair tie from her wrist with her teeth...

[antics-pedantic]

RALLY CO. #9: THE ASHES OF ALDRAGAR

Last time, on Rally Co….

          The crime-lord sorcerer Othulok, nemesis of world-renowned occult detective Solomon Callahan, attacked the Rally Co. team directly at home with help from the assassins Giligan Diligent and Othulok’s own unwilling thrall, known only as ‘The Wrap.’ When Tycho and Esme struggled against the assassins, Solomon used deadly magic—not unlike those of Othulok’s to save them. In the process, revealing that he in fact was once a follower of Othulok himself!

          With assistance from Blockhouse the construct and vigilante treasure-hunter The Junker, Rally Co. was able to repel the attack. Now, the group races to deprive Othulok from the secrets of the ancients, to prevent him from conquering the world.

X

          Some years prior…

          The antechamber was filled with an eerie glow, from bowl torches atop tall golden stands. There were people here, worshipping: Wearing ancient-styled garb over their modern finery. Just then, a wholly separate group would burst in: Two prominent figures taking the charge included a shorter man with messy reddish hair and a full beard, clad in a wrinkled suit with a bow tie and white labcoat, red in the face with consternation. And accompanying him was a Pakistani woman drawing a service revolver, fending off one of the cultist minions. In the process, an INTERPOL-sanctioned special task force badge she wore on her jacket’s front pocket was damaged, just barely deflecting a dagger.

          “It’s over!” exclaimed the youthful Inspector Malika Basra. “We’ve finally tracked you down. A hundred of your followers couldn’t stop us now!”

          A figure in a cloak, and a Roman-style helmet stood up from his throne overlooking the ceremony area in the center. The stone sarcophagus lay there, being adorned with offerings and marks of power in codes even the most seasoned linguist would be hard-pressed to find commonality with in all known languages.

          “And what may I ask, do you think Rally Co. could possibly do now? You’ve only turned the tide so many times at the dawn of this hideous war that plagues the continents. If you should even stand a chance—”

          “IF!” howled Malika’s companion, one Professor George Edward Gallagher. “That ‘if’ sir, is the highest degree offensive! For that, I’ll feed ye the plume off yer helmet!”

          The leader of the secret society sneered, before rising to face them: He removed his helmet, revealing a dark brown mane with a grey streak through the middle, and eyes for whom the surrounding skin showed off coal-black veins, from improperly practiced necromancy. Spells stolen from various corners of the globe.

          “You troglodytes. There is a new world on the way. One where the things that live in hallowed lore and darkness will no longer tolerate mankind’s arrogance!” thundered the mysterious leader, as he extended his free hand and used it to gather some mystical power. “I’ve simply leapt forward before I could be struck down as well.”

          He fired lightning from his fingertips to stave off the adventurers and investigators that came to challenge him, before directing another arc at the sarcophagus.

          “And I, Solomon Callahan, the Acolyte Absolute shall wield the very powers of the ancients to do so! I will succeed the dread shame, Othulok!”

X

          The airplane reached Switzerland by dark. Felix Basra pinched her russet-brown nose ridge, wishing she could deal with the jet lag enough to properly call her aunt Malika.

          “Should have taken some milk of magnesia like I suggested. I never board an aeroplane without one! Your friend was much wiser--” proclaimed Malika. Felix listened to her go on for a while, fretting over every little thing. “--And your girl Georgia keeps insisting on staying with me until you return, you know.”

          “Yes, Malika auntie.” sighed Felix. “I’ll let her know in just a moment not to heckle you too badly: You know as well as I do she just wants to make a good impression. No problems with your health? I hope you’re still exercising.”

          “Bah! For what? The most excitement I have anymore is telling old stories to dime novelists. I don’t think they really know I change up the details each time so they argue with one another afterwards.”

          Felix burst out laughing. She was liable to hurt her sides.

          “That is devious!”

          “Nothing less!”

          But then, there was silence. It had not been very long since the sorcerer crime lord known as the Golden Shadow had mounted an attack on Rally Co.’s base of operations—their home. And in the process, they also revealed a shocking secret of the man who owned the estate, and served as their mentor: Solomon Callahan.

          “How are you all doing, my little snoop?”

          “Don’t call me that.” said Felix. Normally she loved when Malika called her that, but this hardly felt like the time for jokes. “Solomon called you before we left, didn’t he?”

          “… He told me everything. Hung up before I could tell him to wait up for me. And now here you are, off to the Alps.”

          “How?”

          “How what, child?”

          “How did he… he followed the teachings of our greatest enemy. How the devil can you bring someone like that into the fold?”

          There was silence again. Though this time it was diffused by a low hum.

          “We deathly needed someone who knew magic, ESP, weird things no ordinary soul had mastered. But past that he was a terrible headache to work with, in those early days. The only thing that really kept us together was the fact that everyone was doomed unless we kept at it. Then he cleaned up, and then… well. We trusted him to be a teacher of all things.”

          “Your own children, we became his students.”

          “Yes. Oh—here’s Georgia.”

          Before Felix could say anything else, her aunt passed the phone off to her sweetheart.

          “Malika told me some of what’s going on. It seems a bit hasty, but… you’ll be alright? I haven’t even had the chance to meet your new friends yet, you’ve all just been so busy with your modern-day round table and your chivalrous ways.”

          Felix chuckled.

          “You make it sound so romantic.”

          “That’s the job, isn’t it? Being in love and all.”

          “Of course. I’ll phone again after we’re settled in, before we make the climb.”

          Felix said her goodbyes. The first up was a short Irishman, currently weaponizing his grouchiness into resolve: His was a messy head of hair with full sideburns on his cheeks, that self-proclaimed ‘muscle’ of the group as well as its resident cryptozoologist, Tycho Gallagher.

          “The others?”

          Tycho nodded aside: A taller woman with umber-toned skin was fidgeting—usually cheery, bio-chemist Esmerelda Broughton was currently in desperate need of a good coffee blend. She was accompanied by a shorter figure whose sleepless eyes were a more common occurrence compared to Esme’s jet lag woes, the psychic Katrina Kafka.

          “And I says ye should have gotten yer own milk of magnesia!” said Tycho, waving a blue bottle where he kept the relieving drug that helped settle his stomach during the flight.

          “Woe!” scoffed Esme. “As I have to share a laboratory and travels with you—you miserable little combination of an orangutan and an emperor penguin!”

          Usually, Felix and the others would eventually break up the rivalry’s bickering. But this time, Rally Co. was too overwhelmed with the goal ahead. Katrina gestured to Felix, who shared with her some of the local currency so that she might purchase more medicine, water bottles, whatever they needed to ease the difficulty of travel this time. With that done, the group’s serious-minded leader stepped aside to wait next to an old-fashioned telephone booth, one in a row. There were also a couple of teletype computer terminals for public use among the booths as well, uses ranging anywhere from a mere digital typewriter to transferring essential data over long range, once the terminal was rented out. Or simply for a brief amusement, if any pinball machines or vigor testers were not available.

          “Updates.”

          Solomon Callahan, esteemed occult detective these days—formerly a dread magician, pulled out a notepad with which he copied some details.

          “The ruins of a castle in the mountain terrain. Snowcapped… drenched in rumors.”

          “Ghost stories as well, no doubt.”

          Solomon didn’t much enjoy this. Felix was usually more enthusiastic to discuss matters with him pertaining to their latest mystery or adventure as the Rally Co. group. But the circumstances of their last epic had created a considerable rift. The group had always known Solomon to be a practitioner of magic. But recently they had discovered that he commanded deadly powers similar to those of their collective nemesis, the immortal crime lord, Othulok.

          “What significance is our destination, Callahan?” said Felix, tilting her head. “Or should I say Acolyte Absolute? Self-styled enemy of the modern world, and all.”

          Solomon looked aside to see if anyone heard that, before sighing.

          “Felix. The matter at hand: I have the utmost certainty from my colleagues in academia that the late Lord Aldragar Covington’s personal collection housed ancient relics, and rudimentary machinations salvaged from the darkest corners of the Earth.”

          “What in particular do you suppose the Golden Shadow—Othulok, wishes to acquire from there?”

          “A rare ore, Felix. My colleagues called it by a certain name: Orichalcum.”

          He looked to Esme, beckoning her over. Not only did she have a background as a prodigious chemist, but it was under Solomon’s tutelage that they studied findings pertaining to the alchemists of old.

          “That’s the stuff.” said Esme with a nod. “They say if there ever was an ancient locale like all that science fiction about Atlantis, they had a few tricks like that. Orichalcum is supposed to be a miracle metal. You could send heat or an electric current through it, and even a small amount could return the force multiplied. How they refined any of the ore is beyond me at the moment. But if anyone does have the stuff…”

          “It would be dangerous. Message received.” said Felix with a nod. “Let’s get our things at the hotel and move as soon as possible. If such a thing exists, it cannot be allowed into the hands of that sorcerer, devil dog that he is.”

          Felix waved to Tycho and Katrina, who were gathering up suitcases.

          “Tycho, my friend?” said Katrina, holding a case close, and dragging a couple of others along with her telekinesis. “Might I ask you something troubling? Before we are to be in earshot of the others again.”

          Tycho could see Esme and Solomon going to hail a taxi outside. The stalwart cryptozoologist nodded to the girl.

          “When you saw Monsieur Callahan use his magicks… what was it like?”

          Tycho scratched his head. Suddenly he regretted agreeing. But only halfway: He cared too much for his friends not to try.

          “Thing of it is sister, that I’ve grown up treading the grasses of the wilderness in all sorts’er places with dear old ma and pa. In them wilds I got a pretty good sense for determining danger, as animals often give warning. And mortal-folk… well, folk react some kinda way to the defeatin’ of an enemy. That, and one other thing.”

          Tycho performed a sort of dramatized hypnotic gesture, as a stage illusionist might gesture at a box where they pretended to saw their assistant in half.

          “The magic Solomon used before that was always pretty tame-like. Our pal Ribeye Renzo and even that weirdo The Wrap didn’t have nothin’ that potent. The mystic arts just aren’t practiced like they used to… it’s only been against Othulok he’s really gone all out. Ye didn’t hear me complaining, fightin’ fire with fire an’ all. But when he damn near killed that assassin, Giligan Diligent, it was like he’d come back to his hometown to settle accounts with fellers what crossed him.”

          Katrina looked forlorn. Tycho nudged her.

          “Chin up, will ya?”

          Katrina sniffled. “Does it not bother you?”

          “Yeah, it bothers me plenty!” huffed Tycho. “But I’m gonna wait an’ see for a while. Just like I did when Felix ran off to try to get revenge on her own. Or when you went all out with your ESP. And of course, whenever yers truly has to rip some joker a new one for callin’ him funny names. Tumultuous is practically our middle name!”

          She finally chuckled. Tycho offered a snicker of his own, as they made for the doors to the street outside.

X

          The trek up the mountains was unpleasant for all. The whole of Rally Co. were bundled up in heavy winterwear, boots with ice cleats and thick parka jackets with face masks and goggles. Felix and Tycho had climbing axes and gear if they needed to traverse the troublesome terrain. The early morning sunlight shined on the white snow, making everything terribly bright. At least until they arrived at the castle, majority of the estate being in ruins.

          Solomon went up to the entrance arch, where one of the doors had fallen and biting winds could enter at night. Entire sections of the walls had their bricks blasted apart. Felix and Esme took to points of impact for a forensic examination. Tycho was lighting a fire in a spot where they could set down some of their things. Katrina was feeling around with her sixth sense, telepathically probing for any presence living or dead. Some hidden trap that might prove fatal if they accidentally activated a pressure plate or other mechanism. And course most importantly, if there were any remaining samples of the orichalcum and the strange machinery that utilized it. She was so intent on her goal, Katrina wandered off into the darkness.

          There, she found a small bead. She levitated it towards her hand with telekinesis, not touching it with her hand until she knew it was safe. Unfortunately, as the decaying hands reaching out from the shadows indicated, it was not safe whatsoever.

          She did everything she could to keep the fright she felt inside. The cold didn’t help at all. And in a split-second she immediately launched the undead assailant into the wall with a sickening ‘SPLAT!’ that seemed to echo throughout the hall. She readied herself in the event of others, and she did see two more of these ghoulish servants sauntering around. Mindlessly, one more outwardly rotten than the other. It was as if whatever directed them was no longer all there.

          Seeing that the threat was low, Katrina hurried back to look for the others. She’d startled Tycho just as he was putting on some coffee, the liquid nearly sloshing out of the aluminum pot as he slapped it aside.

          “KATRINA!” howled Tycho, catching the rubber gripped handle with his opposite hand, then nursing the slapping palm that had briefly swatted at the heated metal portion. “What the devil are ye doing, sister?!”

          “I would not be hurried if it wasn’t important, Tycho!”

          The others hurried back over to listen as well. Katrina pointed back to the direction she went investigating, and the entire group went together. Tycho and Esme kept themselves trained on the two undead that remained, while Felix and Solomon examined the body of the one Katrina had squashed. Still, they found nothing there or around the castle to work with. Until Felix beckoned for Katrina to provide the small bead she had acquired. Stepping past Esme and Tycho, she held out her hand, and the ghoulish servants seemed to respond to the bead, as though it were of some importance.

          “A miniscule little thing like this bead can’t be much on its own, can it?” said Felix to herself, while Tycho shoved off one of the roaming undead. It was at that point that the aspiring detective tossed the bead with some force. The ghoulish servants hurried to catch it, and when it landed, a small shockwave knocked them off their feet.

          “The orichalcum!” said Solomon, preparing a small leather pouch from within his coat to contain the bead. “Yes, it makes sense: I recall a study suggesting that the ancients carried it in this smaller form.”

          “As what, some kinda funny money?” said Tycho. Esme just sneered at him.

          “Hardly! Think of it, my hirsute little colleague: The orichalcum is easier to carry this way. You could gather several beads, but their worth is too great to distribute like coins. I believe that they carried these around to activate their mechanisms.”

          “Like what? Like our tellerphones and such?” mused Tycho, half-mockingly.

          “Mm. Perhaps more in the realm of secure doors, like on a vault for example. They could use a heavier door because they could afford the energy to move such a thing around. In regards to other technologies, let’s keep it strictly to theory, shall we?”

          “It ought t’make discovering they’ve got damnable death rays layin’ about all the more pleasant!”

          Solomon took the bead at last, once Esme was finished looking it over. Of course, when they returned, they found their campfire had been put out: Behind the smoke was a robed figure. Collectively, everyone seemed to notice two boar-like tusks sticking out of his mouth, and it caused the whole Rally Co. group to prepare for battle. All save for Solomon Callahan.

          “Lord Aldragar. I thought you had died.”

          The boar-like tusks retracted, and the castle master lowered his hood. He was even paler than Katrina, his hair maintained save for a few stray strands that would not stay put. Like the very image of an old time English gentleman, if frayed at the edges.

          “This… is no deception? Is that you, acolyte?”

          Solomon frowned at the name, while the Rally Co. team all looked over to their mentor. Yet another secret of his that had come to light.

          “Everyone. I would like to introduce to you Lord Aldragar Covington. Another mastermind of ill-intentions. A vampire.”

          Tycho’s eyes widened.

          “He gets near me with them tusks, I’ll do some amateur dentistry!”

          But the vampire lord simply laughed.

          “You have nothing to fear from me. I am quenched at this time. But I see you have found some of my orichalcum.”

          He beckoned aside with one arm with the theatrical flair of a jester, before bringing his hand around to take back the bead. Felix looked at it one last time, and offered the orichalcum back, despite the others seeming apprehensive.

          “Wotcha do that for?!” whispered Tycho.

          “He knows Solomon. That gives us an ‘in’ to negotiate. Besides: you saw his undead. The pitiful shambling things. Even as a vampire, I’m confident we could all take him on.”

          Then, she turned to look at Solomon.

          “And I’ll do the talking.” said the older man, nodding and moving to catch up with Lord Aldragar. “Stick together, everyone.”

X

          Now, Rally Co. was in a great dining hall not yet ruined like the rest of the castle. They were able to light a main fireplace. They hesitated to put on any sleeping bags, but Tycho was back to brewing coffee and using provisions. What little food could be offered by Lord Aldragar was under severe scrutiny by Esme, for willful poisons and forgetten mold.

          But Aldragar himself was at the head of the table, and his laughing was hearty.

          “Remarkable development!” he rasped, a cough taking him. For a moment, some of the youth he’d regained seemed to depart his body, but no thirst was apparent. His vampiric physiology was no longer functioning neatly, not after the strife he’d put himself through in pursuing victims. “You mean to tell me, acolyte, that you made a foe of the Golden Shadow? And you’ve gone on to join his enemies in Rally Co.?”

          “What’s more, Lord Aldragar…” said Solomon, leaning in his seat, and pointing an enthusiastic finger. “I taught each of Rally Co.’s latest successors. Everyone here has been a student of mine in a different field.”

          A sentiment not gladly echoed. There were quiet nods and shrugs that lacked commitment.

          “In any case, Callahan: Revel! You have been accepted by these mortals, you’ve taken Othulok’s own magic to use against him. Glory finds its way to your house, and mankind will soon realize it does not stand atop the food chain.”

          “And what does that mean, exactly?” said Felix, interjecting.

          “I mean no offense!” said Aldragar. “But your larger world is content to disregard the old myths. In some cases, they have been driven away crudely… such as your Blockhouse. He was not always treated with such welcoming.”

          “Yeah? An’ why’s that?!” spat Tycho.

          Solomon set a hand on Tycho’s shoulder and spoke:

          “There is no good reason, my boy. There are those who favor their control too greatly to relinquish the reins willingly. As it is, the world can barely treat its own, more ordinary people with dignity. Even the most minute difference can be blown out of proportion into an aberration.”

          And then Aldragar laughed hoarsely.

“I am content to try and make my own unspoken kingdom here in Europe, over all the secret things which live here… but your Solomon Callahan however, sought to usher an era of enlightenment. By any means necessary.”

          Katrina could not help but feel something awful in herself. Solomon was teaching her to safely harness her abilities. She wondered if he might have demanded she wield them against humanity. She wondered if the others had similar concerns: Felix could have been a great hunter of dissidents, Esme could use her chemistry knowledge to form the alchemy of war, and Tycho’s zoology might have been put towards taming and commanding cryptid creatures, the way the Golden Shadow directed them towards malice, but without expending magic.

          “Blazes to that!” howled Tycho, shaking a fist. “A thousand thundering typhoons! But he didn’t. He joined up with Rally Co. an’ changed directions fast-like!”

          Esme stepped up beside the loyal cryptozoologist, and crossed her arms. Only adjusting to fix her hair, to look as refined as possible.

          “What my colleague said. It would have been better received if we’d heard this sooner. But he’s sort of our expert on the magic… not many of those going around at the moment. We’ll take what we can get until Othulok is put to rest once and for all.”

          Felix looked to Katrina. Katrina looked back. And while they couldn’t bring themselves to say much, they both nodded and stood by their friends. And perhaps, some small part of them would not abandon Solomon altogether, provided he made it up to his charges this way. Each and every one of them. Solomon himself continued to say little: he did not want to push his luck. But he felt something like a small hope just then.

          Lord Aldragar watched the entire display for a moment, before taking up a goblet and gulping down half the contents all at once.

          “A shame I never started a coven.” said Aldragar. “What prowess and loyalty I might have cultivated if you are any example… but no sense dwelling on what could have been. I trust after resting fully, you’ll wish to see my machinations? Destroy my hard work?”

          “Would you stop us?” said Felix. Her Jutte was a blunt weapon, but if she had to run it forcibly through his heart like a stake, she was prepared to do so. But Aldragar shook his head.

          “Before I might have. Now my dreams of overcoming the vampire’s weaknesses are doomed! However, if throwing it all aside might infuriate Othulok, I say bring ruination to all that I have left!”

          And he cackled, before entering a violent coughing fit.

X

          There were boots marching in the snow. To every uniformed man, a rifle or other armament. Armored cars on tank treads instead of tires, being navigated up, with troops on standby to assist the journey of their support vehicle. At the helm of the operation was a commanding officer in a cap with a silver piece pinned to the front, fashioned in the shape of an albatross. His uniform was newer than that of his troops, signifying his connection to a small, but rapidly expanding nation-state.

          “The damnable bloodsucker is ours, Over-Commander Sallow.” laughed a subordinate officer, his shaky hands attempting to light a cigar. “He should have taken your offer… first the visit, then the letter. He is a fool twice over—he would have a death wish to refuse you now.”

          Over-Commander Sallow just made a disgusted sound.

          “I recall your file, Lars. You received commendations for quelling a would-be resistance cell with little in the way of casualties.”

          The officer called Lars just grinned.

          “But of course, sir.”

          Sallow pulled off a glove from Lars’s hand, stealing away his cigar with similar dexterity, and bringing it down quickly, before halting just over the back of Lars’s hand where the mere drop of ashes was enough to strike fear into him.

          “I know not your methodology for accomplishing that. But I challenge you to demonstrate superior bravery for your country! Where it may be *seen,* yes?”

          “What the hell is wrong with you, Over-Commander?! I am loyal! Always loyal.”

          “Always?”

          “Yes, always!”

          Sallow just sneered, and offered a half-hearted salute. But when Lars attempted to provide the same, he was greeted with the gleam of a knife halfway out of its sheath. The silver blade gleamed in the moonlight.

          “Glory to Arkavalia.” said Sallow, as if providing instruction to a child, before shuffling off.

          “*Ulp*… Glory. To Arkavalia.”

X

          Katrina perked up. She nudged Solomon while he pored over the machinery Aldragar had introduced to them to offer notice as to her precognitive flash just now.

          “Soldiers upfront.” said Katrina. “Heavily armed at that!”

          Tycho scowled. Aldragar was not far off.

          “What is the meaning of this?” said Solomon. “You haven’t sold us out, have you?!”

          “Silence, Acolyte!” spat Aldragar “It is the Arkavalians. After my own downfall and their rise to power, they have heckled me for my secrets. I’ve few ghouls left to stave them off within the castle walls.”

          Felix beckoned for the others to join her.

          “If they do not know this yet, then these men might still be susceptible to doubt. Quickly!”

          Everyone hurried upstairs and lined up to look at the troops from overhead. Felix had both her revolver and impellet gun out, trying to decide which one to expend first, and what tactics the group could take.

          “Really makes a feller wish Blockhouse was here, huh?” said Tycho.

          “Undoubtedly, my hirsute colleague.” said Esme.

          Felix had a feeling if they lingered too long, the Arkavalian forces would call their bluff. Esme could probably rig up some explosives to lob from their vantage point. Tycho preferred close range, perhaps if they made it into the building, he could perform an ambush. Solomon and Aldragar had magic and vampiric powers, but they could still be cut down by weapons if they weren’t careful.

          Over-Commander Sallow on the other hand, had time and resources with which to pour continuous pressure onto Aldragar’s estate. He would proceed to point forward, gesturing for Lars to communicate.

          “By will of Arkavalia itself, our detachment demands your audience, Lord Aldragar Covington! You have the opportunity to utilize your unique gifts in service of a glorious new homeland!”

          Aldragar spat at Lars’s feet. Felix would be the one to speak back.

          “His response seems unanimous, no?”

          Lars perked up.

          “Who the devil are you?!”

          “The woman telling you to turn around. Aldragar and his ghouls do not fight alone.”

          Lars looked back at Sallow, who tilted his head to look down on Lars.

          “I want an armored truck to ram into the front doors at once! All troops, ready your weapons for those rotting saps!” exclaimed the red-faced Lars, who turned around to address the Rally Co. group, and Lord Aldragar. “Your lacking welcome will be your undoing, leech! And those young degenerates!”

          “You’ll dive deeper through hell than I, pig-dog!” exclaimed Aldragar. It was at that point one of the armored vehicles began advancing, while a hail of gunfire covered it. The Rally Co. team kept their heads down, Felix closing her hand into a fist and opening it again to gesture for explosives, for which Esme was all too eager to provide: In Arcadia, the city the group considered home, she was often cautious with the output of her test tube grenades. Still the case with this mountainous terrain, but considering the uneven odds on which they fought, she took on the task of cobbling together something potent enough to disable the armored trucks.

          “HI-HO SILVER!!”

          Esme tossed a test tube grenade down at the oncoming vehicle, halting it momentarily. Felix fired on some men trying to feed a belt of ammunition to a machine gun encampment. The second armored truck approaching moved as quickly as it could, this time a gunner emerged from a hatch on the roof, taking aim with a rifle. Esme’s next toss was thrown off from landing within the hatch, as the tube rolled along the roof near the hatch instead. The gunner had ample time to leap out as the vehicle collided with the front doors, the automobile motor whining with stress in its ongoing attempt to break inside. Felix directed Tycho to move ahead of the group.

          “It won’t be long before they’re inside. Aldragar, you go with my man Tycho and try to thin the ranks. We’ll meet you at your laboratory.”

          Aldragar did not enjoy taking orders, even reasonably measured ones such as this. His pride was wounded enough by mortals before. From the academics he invited into his home to feast upon before he used the secrets of the ancients to overcome the weaknesses of the vampire, to the Arkavalian fascists that harassed him endlessly. But with the provision that they would make Othulok suffer, he acquiesced to Felix’s word.

          “So be it. At least I will go out with the glory of battle!” said Aldragar, taking on his tusk-like fangs. Tycho fished through his things for a large knife he sometimes wielded while on excursions through the wilderness.

          “Save some for me, ya wiseguy!” bellowed Tycho, pointing at Aldragar with the tip of his blade. “I ain’t no kinda pushover in matters of stompin’ goose-stepping goons!”

          Aldragar lead the way towards a hidden passage, Tycho scurrying after. The Arkavalians had breached the front door, and began sending squads to comb through the halls. Gunfire ripping through the frigid night as they fought against what few ghouls remained. The two fighters burst from the shade and into the attacking force, picking them off before hurrying to another area of the castle to continue their guerilla warfare. Tycho plunged his dagger with a handle-twisting depth, and Aldragar did likewise with his tusk-fangs to the nearest vein, before swiping his nails across the torso to split the body apart. Rinse, and repeat.

          Solomon tackled into a trooper on his way past Tycho and Aldragar. Lars was about to face him, but Sallow put a vise-grip on his subordinate’s shoulder.

          “The orichalcum and the machines, Lars. I will address the world-famous occult detective.”

          “Yessir!”

          There was some relief that Lars did not have to face the man himself. Sallow on the other hand seemed to savor the encounter. It was as though he had something: any seasoned adventurer knew an ordinary man would not have such confidence without the proverbial ‘ace-in-the-hole’ to guarantee their survival. But try as he might, Solomon’s ESP could not probe Sallow right away.

          “You’re probably wondering why your powers of mind, or perhaps magic now fails you, is that right good sir Callahan?”

          Solomon brandished the small sword blade hidden within his silver-headed cane, and swiped at Sallow. Every time he approached, he couldn’t glean anything from his thoughts, or precognitively. He even tried a spell to melt the rubber soles of Sallow’s boots onto the stone floor, and only received a brief puff of smoke.

          “Yes! I have long desired to put you pitiful believers to death.” exclaimed Sallow. “I am without blessings or curses, Callahan! None of the gods will have me in their domain. Hell’s devils loathe my presence! A hundred rituals have freed me from the faiths interfering directly with my very being!”

          Sallow produced a set of brass knuckles, as well as a fiber wire garrote. He began his retaliation by knocking the blade from Solomon’s hand with a great punch. While he could not induce anything within Sallow, Solomon tried projecting a mystic arc of lightning, and found it was not wholly resisted. And Sallow still had to physically fight back when Solomon ushered forth another spell, which turned dirt beneath the castle stone to muddy clay that hardened after wrapping around Sallow’s ankle.

          “Give my regards to the fellows in Limbo, Over-commander!”

          Solomon angled for a punch, only for Sallow to meet his bare fist with the brass knuckles. Solomon cried out in pain, followed immediately by a strike to the nose. Blood gushed down over his mouth, leaving his front teeth crimson-coated. It was in that moment that Sallow grabbed Solomon by the jacket, and got to wrapping the garrote around his throat. Along with the profuse bleeding, Solomon would be unable to breathe very much—and soon, almost not at all.

          “Not yet, old man. I’ll not let you go under yet.”

X

          Felix kicked over some tables. Esme was gathering up Aldragar’s alchemical equipment to try and create new explosive concoctions right away. Katrina was handling the orichalcum, packing each sample of the miracle metal in such a way that they would not be jostled or their amplifying effect activated by unexpected turbulence. Tycho and Aldragar raced through the open doors as a shower of gunfire trailed after them—Aldragar taking dozens at a time as he shambled forward to hang off of the makeshift barricade weakly. Tycho was jumping over a crate Felix had pushed into place when two shots fired by the pursuing Lars connected with him, sending his body crashing down unceremoniously. Esme was first to set aside the flasks to check his wounds.

          “Hold still—I’ll get the bullets out. Try not to cry, as you do!”

          “Would that I could focus on my revenge upon you!” howled Tycho, while Esme got to work, and bandaged him as quickly as she could. Felix was right beside them, laying down covering fire.

          “Aldragar—get over here!”

          The vampire lord attempted to rise again, but not before someone charged him with a battering ram, adorned with a golden cross at its striking face. The implement gleamed as it was repeatedly driven into Aldragar’s back, lined up with his spinal column until he began to die a slow and ignoble demise. It was at that time that Solomon was brought in. The entire group was mortified by his bloodied state. Aldragar felt the thirst of the vampire, but he was far too weak to do anything now.

          “Rally Company. I believe you’ve forgotten something in your haste!”

          “Don’t listen to him!—” sputtered Solomon. Katrina stopped what she was doing to try and force Sallow away. But her mistake was to try and grab him telekinetically instead of creating an external wave of force. Any unusual power centered upon his being was for naught. Magic most of all, but that extended to psychic powers to some degree.

          “Drop your weapons, children. Or your teacher ends class early for the day, yes? Good, good. Now for the orichalcum, and surrender of Lord Aldragar’s machinery.”

          The team followed along with Sallow’s first demand of putting their weapons down. Katrina could see that Lars was angling to shoot again, and instinctively she reached out and gripped Lars’s weapon telekinetically. Causing it to explode in his hand as he stumbled aside screaming. The startled Sallow let up as Solomon let off a crackle of mystic static from his hand—although he couldn’t induce any effects onto Sallow’s immediate being, he was still vulnerable to forces that began within the external world, his resistance only keeping him from dying immediately.

Agony flared throughout the Arkavalian Over-Commander’s body as he dropped his garrote, and attempted to strike Solomon again. This time his brass knuckles were superheated by the mystic static.

          “I die in glorious service!” howled Sallow. “I will not be the last. ANOTHER, and yet more may participate in the same practices I have. And they too will be beyond your powers!”

          “But not THIS!”

          Katrina levitated a small marble of orchicalcum, before sending it forward. Not as a projectile, but guiding it right into Sallow’s mouth. At which point Solomon received a telepathic signal. With a snap of his fingers, he generated a small mystic spark next to the orb just as Sallow continued with his platitudes with an open mouth. A small explosion erupted from his cheek, and then elsewhere as the orichalcum marble was involuntarily gulped down, causing total combustion as Over-Commander Sallow was reduced to a skeleton coated in rags and ash.

          Solomon had dived out of the way. Tycho had risen back onto his feet, only to fall down again in his attempt to avoid the explosion. A few troops had caught the gruesome display and retreated, screaming for the comforts of their childhood homes. Aldragar sputtered as everyone reclaimed their things:

          “Callahan. Take whatever you require: But destroy what remains of the castle before you go. With my last breath, I laugh at Othulok! I cackle at the Arkavalian mortals! All that they seek will never be theirs.”

          Solomon produced his handkerchief, and wiped some of the blood off of his own face, and from his glasses.

          “You will have a place in history, Lord Aldragar. From a time when we were mankind’s greatest opponents. And the only goal, to take back the night and foggy days for all that lurked there.”

          Aldragar let off a hoarse snicker.

          “And where the corpses of lesser giants and rusted tanks now grow flowers. I know your idealistic rants well, former Acolyte…”

          With those final words, Solomon drove his sword-cane blade into the heart of the vampire lord. Felix walked over to watch him turn to dust.

          “Sir. I trust you’ll guide us in what equipment to take?”

          Solomon surveyed the laboratory, and nodded.

          “Yes, my dear: With haste. We must deprive Othulok of a source of refined orichalcum, such as Aldragar possessed. At least then he will be unable to amplify the energies of his magic as he casts it upon us in battle.”

          “And we’re done, right?” said Tycho. “We get the miracle metal outta here and whammo—then we stick it to the dead tosser?”

          Of course, Solomon simply adjusted his glasses. Esme had a feeling there was something else involved here.

          “Mr. Callahan…” said Esme, with an uneasy start. Felix’s eyes widened as she and the other looked to Esme for answers. But Solomon gestured first: It was high time he exercised greater honesty himself.

          “What Esme feels concern for, everyone, will indeed be the last of our great search... then, I promise you, we will strike back at Othulok once and for all.”

X

UNTIL NEXT TIME…

[noa-nightingale]

Watcher, We Tried The Extravagant Wigs That Killed Marie Antoinette • Pretty Historic

[howlingday]

Jaune can’t help but find it a bit odd that his girlfriend Winter will only allow him into her panties if he’s cosplaying as Captain America.

The Winter Hero

Jaune Arc was a man of principle. He was raised to be a gentleman; kind, generous, and sensitive to a woman's needs. His mother and sisters groomed him to be the perfect boyfriend for anyone lucky enough to have him.

Chocolate ice cream at 3 AM, even though all the stores are closed? Done before dawn.

Need some guy to stop stalking you? Jaune wasn't a man of violence, but he had his ways to deter creeps.

Need another girl for your sleepover? Not a problem, even though he got a few awkward glances from his sister's friends.

However, almost as soon as he left the nest, his first girlfriend was completely independent. Any offer to help was completely shut down. But this was to be expected from an officer of the Atlas military. Yes, Winter Schnee never made any requests to her boyfriend.

That is, until one Halloween night...

Jaune looked himself over in the mirror at his costume. His blue spandex bodysuit was slim, if not constricting. It featured a white letter "A" on his forehead with a pair of wings just behind his temples, a star in the center of his chest, and a design of red and white stripes over his abdominals and circling around the back. He looked down to the flat, metal disk shield that weighed about thirty pounds. Not all too heavy for him, but it still weighs down over time. Yes, he was the hero of life and liberty, Captain America!

He sighed and shook his head as he looked over his ridiculous outfit. When he asked about their plans for Halloween, Winter explained she already ordered his and that she intended to go to a costume party with him. He knew better than to question it, but did it have to be this superhero?

Jaune has read his fair share of comics, and when asked who his was, he would answer Batman. Unfortunately for him, though, Winter was a Marvel fan, so his favorite superhero would have to stick to the sshadows tonight.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Picking up the shield, he walked over to the door and opened it. The sight in front of him almost made him drop his shield.

On the other side of his apartment door stood a beautiful woman with snow white hair, cascading down over her shoulders like an avalanche. She wore a silver body-suit, reminiscent of the ones worn by special forces, that hugged all of her curves perfectly. Around her waist was a gray belt designed to look like it had multiple compartments.

"Is there something wrong, Jaune?" He blinked and gave a nervous chuckle. She looked him up and down and smiled. "I see your costume matches the measurements I provided."

"Uh, actually, it feels a little tight." Jaune replied, tugging at his collar. "I can breathe just fine, but-"

"Good." Winter turned around and began walking towards the stairs. "Let's go. It's time for the party."

"Uh, yeah, sure!" Jaune shut the door behind him and followed her. "I like your costume. Who are you supposed to be?" Being a gentleman, Jaune asked, since he was certain it would tie to her interests.

"Silver Sable." Winter replied without looking back. "Russian mercenary. Leader of the Wild Pack. First appearance in 'The Amazing Spider-Man Issue #265'."

"Oh, she sounds... intense." Being a man, Jaune's eyes wandered to her hips, where her ass lightly swayed with every step, leaving nothing to the imagination. His costume felt tighter.

At the party, Jaune struggled to keep his shield up. He had shifted between his arms twice since he started carrying it. He could set it down, but every time he did, Winter would find out. The first time, she lightly chastised him, saying, "I thought you were supposed to be a hero." The second, and last time, she hit harder, telling him, "You're supposed to be a hero. So be one." She knew one of Jaune's dreams was to be a hero, someone who helps others and can be looked up to with pride. He sighed as he looked over the crowd.

The costumes varied, but he recognized everyone as someone from Winter's command. Elm Ederne, a specialist of Atlas' Ace Operatives, was dressed as some kind of monk, she explained, and carried a set of drums on her waist. He thought she was a hippie at first, but was swiftly corrected. Their commanding officer, General James Ironwood, was luckier than Jaune and dressed up as Batman. Jaune was green with envy. Or he was when Councilman candidate Robyn Hill showed up, dressed as Orchid from Killer Instinct. He never played the game, but he recognized the costume from... research.

"Jaune," he looked to his left and saw Winter standing with her arms crossed, "do you want to leave?" Jaune blinked, but before he could say anything, she spoke first. "I know that look on your face. You're bored. If you wish to leave, I won't force you to stay."

"I'm fine," Jaune replied, "I'm just... reading the room." Winter sighed, leaning against the wall next to him. She had an annoyed look on her face. "Are you okay, Winter?"

"I'm fine." She replied without looking at him. Instead, she was looking at the attention Robyn was getting. With a scowl, she huffed under her breath. "Pigs."

"Svin'ya." Winter looked to Jaune, who was wearing a smile on his face. "Svin'ya is pig in Russian."

She chuckled at that, gracing her lips with a smile. Jaune liked making people smile. Well, maybe not make, but help smile. She leaned closer, forcing Jaune to shift his shield to his other arm. She held his arms and sighed. Jaune felt his suit grow even tighter.

"Do you want to leave?" Winter looked up to Jaune. With a smile, she replied.

"Yes."

Winter and Jaune arrived at her apartment door. The walk home was certainly brisk, but made warmer with their body heat combined as they held close on their trip, as well as Jaune holding the shield against the wind. She reached into her belt and clipped open one of the compartments and pulled out her keys. Jaune held the shield behind her, pretending to protect her from some evil or another.

As she opened the door, Jaune stepped away. "Good night, Winter."

Winter turned to face Jaune. "Won't you come in? After all, it's cold outside tonight."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." He replied with a red-cheek and -nose smile.

"At least warm before you go." Winter gestured for him to enter. "I couldn't bear to think of you becoming hypothermic because of me."

"Just another part of being a hero!" Jaune chuckled.

"Actually," Winter said, placing her chin between her index and thumb, "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but your costume has an interesting feature."

"Feature?" A stray wind blew in, chilling Jaune where he stood. "On second thought, maybe staying a second to warm up wouldn't hurt." He stepped inside, setting his shield down by the coat rack inside. She shut the door behind him.

"I'm glad to see you've come to your senses." She stepped further into the apartment, Jaune following close behind.

He had been here twice, but the size always amazed him. It was at least three times the size of his, and included it's own washer and dryer set. It was only a balcony away from being considered a penthouse. With the click of a button, Winter summoned a fireplace from the darkness.

Following her to the couch, Jaune sat down next to Winter. She leaned closer to him then nuzzled against his chest. She leaned up, kissing him as he leaned down. She prodded tongue past his lips, and upon receiving invitation, grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him into her. Their breathing became heavy as the two pulled themselves closer to the other, their make-out growing more intense by the second.

Pulling away, Jaune groaned. "Damn."

"Something wrong?"

"This costume's in the way." Jaune tugged at his collar,causing Winter to chuckle.

"No, it isn't." Before he could ask, Winter slipped to her knees, kneeling in front of Jaune's crotch. "I custom-ordered this, you know." She traced her middle finger from the couch up to his groin. "I needed to get," she dug into a flap he never noticed, "your exact," and she pulled down the zipper he never knew, "measurem- Ack!" Winter recoiled as she was slapped by Jaune's dick.

"You okay?" Jaune asked.

"I'm fine," Winter waved him off, "I just... got my measurements wrong." She eyed his penis with a critic's glare. It was larger than the average she suspected, possibly six-and-a-half, if not seven inches in length, with a girth that made making her index and thumb have difficulty meeting. "But I'll adapt."

Before Jaune could say anything, Winter wrapped her lips around Jaune's head, tracing over it with her tongue. He lightly gasped as she pumped his shaft and she moved her head in a rhythm up and down his cock.

"F-Fuck!" Jaune grunted. "I'm gonna-!"

Winter pulled away and pumped with more vigor. With a moan, Jaune came a thin rope onto Winter's costume, a stream of white oozing onto her hands. She turned around, looking back to Jaune.

He squinted for a moment, then took notice of the zipper at the top of her back. He reached forward and pulled down. The costume came splitting in half as he dragged the tab closer to it's destination. As he reached the end, Winter stood up.

"Jaune," he couldn't see, but she looked at him with a sort of predatory gaze, as if he were a breathing meal for her to devour, "do you want to keep going?" With a gulp, he answered.

"Uh, I don't have any condoms."

"No?" She chuckled. "Check your shield." Jaune stood up and walked over to the hat rack where he placed his shield, his now flaccid cock swaying in the air with every step. Felling around, he noticed a hatch near the center, behind the handle. With a click, it opened and he found box of condoms. He couldn't see the brand, but the box felt small. That was fine, though, since he wasn't expecting to burn through ten or so condoms tonight. "Did you find them?" Winter called out.

"Yeah, they were behind the han-duuuuuh..." Jaune's jaw dropped at the sight in front of him. Bathed in firelight, Winter removed her soiled costume and laid back against the couch, her legs spread, her hair wild, and her eyes hungry. She became instantly erect.

"Then come here, my hero."

Winter moaned loudly as Jaune thrusted himself into her from behind. Every movement forward by him drove her further over the edge. This may have been their first time, but Jaune was clearly experienced. Some way, somehow, this man had a lover before her, and they perfected him into the breeding bull slamming into her.

With a grunt, Jaune came into the condom and pulled out. He huffed as he removed the rubber from his semi-stiff staff. Winter whirled around and slurped on his phallus until he was nice and hard again. Once he put the next condom on, she pushed him onto his back, then slipped him inside.

She bounced up and down his rod as she moaned and gasped. Jaune tried to match her pace with his thrusts, but she was moving too fast for him. He panted as she rode him like it was a rodeo. He settled his hand on her hips and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she was above him, her hair acting as a white veil to hide themselves from the world. Her mouth split to a predatory grin.

"You like it?" She growled.

"Y-Yeah!" He grunted.

"You like it?" She repeated.

"Yeah!" He whined.

"You want me?" She leaned closer, slowing her pace.

"Y-Yes!" He panted. She leaned next to his ear.

"Then take me."

Jaune flipped Winter onto her back and held her legs above her in a mating press. She screamed as Jaune pounded with greater vigor into her, grunting as he did so.

"Fuck me!" She shrieked as she held her ankles. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeee!"

With a grunt, Jaune came again, panting hard. He pulled out, pulling the condom out with him. He removed the prophylactic the his cock, setting it down next to it's seven siblings.

Eight condoms. The couple's box held eight condoms. With eight used condoms, Jaune sighed as the night's activities drew to a close.

SHUP!

Jaune looked down to see Winter bobbing her head up and down his shaft again. He groaned and pulled her off. With a sigh, he told the truth. "I can't anymore."

"No?" She tilted her head to the side.

"No." He stepped away and gestured to the condoms. "We went through a whole box, it's only a few hours until dawn, and I... I don't think I can do it again."

"I see." She said looking down. She almost looked sad.

"It's nothing against you, but I don't think I can do a round nine like this, condom or no condom."

"Like this?" She tugged on his bodysuit, now soaked in sweat and, in the lower region, genital fluids. "With the suit?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in that case," she reached behind Jaune and pulled down his back zipper, "here." She tugged on his sleeves and helped him out, peeling the it free from his skin. He shivered as the cold air rolled over his bare skin for the first time all night. She stepped free of the suit and sat down.

"That's much better." Winter was about to walk away, but felt him grab her hand. "We're not gonna cuddle?"

She smiled and sat down next to him. They embraced for a moment, then felt him pull her down, so they were laying on the couch. His body felt hot; clearly from the body heat trapped by his suit.

Winter closed her eyes, momentarily thinking about fucking her favorite superhero, Captain America, until she slipped into her dream where she was held in the loving embrace of her hero, Jaune Arc.

[diamond-coral]

Bargaining Chip

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr ever:) I pulled this one-shot from a fic I posted on AO3 a few months ago but the plot is irrelavent and I changed it from first person to second as well as some details so it can be read as a stand alone. There’s some plot from the actual story but you really don’t need to know it at all.

There might be a few errors, especially because I changed the entire point of view and converted it to present tense from past tense so sorry:) 

Loki manages to get his hands on you and exchanges you and your body for his ticket to independence from the Avengers. Bucky gets to go first.

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters included: Loki, and a little bit of Tony, Steve, and Thor

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY!!! SMUT (NON-CON TOUCHING, FORCED ORAL SEX (m receiving), KNIFE THREATS, DARK! AVENGERS, BUCKY’S AN ASSHOLE IN THIS, DEGRADATION, BASICALLY FORCED PROSTITUTION) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You awake in the passenger seat of your own car with only foggy memories of you and your partner before everything had gone dark. Your mission from the CIA...breaking and entering the motherfucking Avenger’s facility and managing to escape...you were so close. If it weren’t for him. In your haze, you look to see who could possibly have the audacity to be driving your car, and there sits Loki, the God of Mischief, who you had only scene on the news, driving one hand and inspecting something in his other.

“Good evening my lady. Sleep well?” he mocks without taking his eyes off the item in his hand which upon further inspection from you looks to be... a red leash?

What the hell?

“I do hope you like your outfit,” he continues. “I think I assembled quite the get up for you.”

Looking down, you let out a muffled scream that was cut off by a strip of duct tape. Your hands are bound in your lap, but that isn’t what horrifies you. It’s what’s underneath them. You take into account your bare legs, fully on display, with a black dress leaving little to the imagination. The top half is just as horrifying with it’s plunging neckline. Your legs end with a pair of strappy gold heels that ensures any chances of running away to be futile while your upper arms are adorned in golden bracelets accented with emeralds. Whether the emeralds were real or fake, you could care less. You have bigger problems to worry about.

“What the fuck?!”

Is what you try to say, but the gag only makes it come out as a mangled ball of muffled murmurs. Though the chuckle Loki lets out implies he understands your enraged speaking attempt.

“You, my dear, are going to be a bargaining chip. I heard about your little escapade at the Avenger’s facility last night. Impressive, I must say, but my brother and his little hero posse had been looking for you relentlessly after that. They are practically obsessed with catching the women that managed to break into their high security building.”

Loki takes a sharp turn into a parking garage, narrowly missing the wall. You squeal as your precious car runs over the curb.

“I forgot how much I hate mortal transportation devices. But Stark had to build this tower in the middle of New York to feed his ever-growing ego and now I’m the one that has to rely on a car to get me there,” he grumbles while pulling into a parking space. He takes a deep breath once the car is parked. “Now, I’m going to remove that gag out of your mouth, and if you scream, I will peel your skin off of your body in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. Understood?”

You nod frantically and he rips the tape off, extracting a whimper from your now stinging mouth. You open your mouth for him to take the wad of cloth out that was under the duct tape. As he extracts it, you snap your mouth shut in an attempt to bite him, but he’s quick to evade and grabs your jaw harshly.

“What did I say before?” he seethes. 

“You said not to scream. I didn’t scream. Now let go of my face.”

Loki roughly throughs your face to the side, letting go, and looks around the surroundings of the car, probably checking for any unwanted onlookers.

“Out of the car. Now,” he orders and you hastily oblige using your bound hands to open the door.

As you shut the door, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection and grimace. You look like a hooker. Aside from the skimpy outfit, your hair was pinned up and intertwined with gold strands. Your makeup is done as well. Sultry eye shadow and dark red lipstick.

“I didn’t know the God of Mischief was a makeup guru,” you jab.

He ignores you and harshly pushes you forward. “Walk.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Loki replies. “She has other uses than the one I currently need you for.”

“And what use am I needed for?”

“I already told you. By the gods, you mortals are stupid. You are to be a bargaining chip, (Y/N).”

Your blood runs cold. “How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you. Including your peculiar abilities.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Now, don’t worry,” he adds. “As amusing to me as it would be, I have no interest in enlightening the Avengers to your secret identity. As far as they will know, I am simply giving them the criminal that broke into their compound.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you ask as he guidesyou into an elevator.

After pushing a button, he goes to fix his dark green tie. “Clever girl now aren’t you?”

“Answer the question.”

“How about-no?” he muses and a soft ding resonates through the elevator.

The doors opened and, for a moment, you forget the predicament your in. Inside was the most beautiful penthouse you had ever seen. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass allowing a view of the New York City night skyline. Everything little piece of furniture each looks as expensive as your car, but your focus becomes drawn to the minibar. The Avengers were all sitting there, laughing, and most were obviously drunk.

“Here James, try some of this,” Thor booms.

Bucky makes a face. “Why would I drink something from another planet meant for Gods?”

“Jeez Buck it’s the only thing that can get you and I drunk,” Steve slurs and claps Bucky on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday. Live it up a little.”

Bucky hesitates before grabbing the flask Thor offers him and throwing his head back, downing the flask in one go.

Loki seems to have enough of the party scene as he clears his throat to interrupt them.

“Gentlemen-”

Before Loki uttered another word all the Avengers clambered from their seats to grab their weapons, but their intoxicated state just makes it a comical sight. Captain America falls over in an attempt to reach for his shield below the table. Tony Stark’s iron man mask smacks him over the head as he fails to turn in time to catch it on his face. Sam Wilson chokes on his drink and falls backwards off his barstool in shock.

“I come bearing no ill tidings.” Loki spread his arms.

“Then why bother coming at all?” Thor growls, shifting his hammer to his right hand.

“I’ve come to make an offer.”

With that, Loki snatches your wrist and throws you towards him and the other men. You stumbled in you stilettos and let out a yelp as you land on the floor looking up at the 5 present Avengers: Thor, the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Falcon. They all look down on you with perplexed looks etched onto their faces.

“You guys have been so caught up and stressed about finding your security breaches that I was generous enough to do some finding myself,” Loki explains.

“And how do we know you didn’t just pluck some prostitute off the street?” Caps eyes rake up and down your body.

Loki scoffs. “Always the skeptic captain. Does this answer your question?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash-drive.

Tony snatches it from his hands. “Jarvis, what’s on this drive?” he asks, holding the drive up to a scanner in the glasses he’s wearing.

“It appears to be the files you have been collecting the 2 vigilantes you have been tracking and-.”

“Okay thanks J!” Tony interrupts quickly before Jarvis could spill any more information. He proceeds to storm up to your cowering and kneeling form that hadn’t dared move and harshly grabs your jaw.

Jesus, what was with these men and your poor, bruised jaw?

“Why would you possibly need this information?” he asks calmly, but his eyes are feral. He studies you and his brows furrow. Did he manage to piece it all together that you were the alleged vigilante they had been hunting? He lets go of your jaw and throws you back on the floor. “What business do you have looking for them?”

Looking for them? You let out a sigh of relief.

“None of your business,” you spit.

“Anyways,” Loki continues, and the drive suddenly disintegrated in Tony’s hand while reappearing in Loki’s. “I will happily hand over this seemingly important information along with the girl for you to do with her as you please, but…” He pauses. “Only if you stop tracking my current whereabouts.”

“And why would we do that, Loki? You’re dangerous,” Steve notes.

“I was dangerous,” Loki interjects. “I have been a good boy haven’t I? I would like to lead a normal life without you imbeciles tailing my every move. If I slip, Thor here will know within the second if I’m involved with anyone wrong doings, won’t you brother dear?”

Thor grunts at that statement.

“Besides, Stark’s satellite can track any magical energy if I use it. Which I won’t.”

“Fine. Now hand over the drive,” Tony snaps and holds his hand out.

After Loki drops the small gadget into Tony’s hand, he hauls you up and spins you around to face him.

His voice is quiet and low. “Be glad I didn’t tell them about my plans for you friend. It would be a shame if they found out about her abilities...and yours.”

He spins you back around to face the 5 men whose eyes were now raking up and down your body. “Easy on the eyes isn’t she?” Loki mentions, hands falling on your waist making you squirm. “You know, I almost considered keeping her for myself. Her exotic beauty is that of a pleasure maiden on Asgard.” Your struggles are invigorated at his implications. “Enjoy your whore.” And with that, he gives you one final shove before vanishing.

It’s silent for half a minute before one of the men speak up.

“Alright who wants to take her for a spin?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together. “I vote the birthday boy gets first dibs. Huh, Buckaroo?”

You blanch at the idea. Were they really going to go through with what Loki wanted? What happened to the valiant heroes you saw on your screen?

“Wait Tony, you can’t be seriously considering Loki’s suggestion?” Sam Wilson sounds surprised.

Tony shrugs. “Why not, Birdie? It’s either this or high security prison and I don’t think she wants to rot in a cell.”

“She is standing right here and would rather rot in hell than do what Loki had in mind,” you hiss.

“Well it’s a good thing we weren’t asking for her opinion,” Tony says.

“Tony’s right, Sam,” Steve adds slowly. “We bust our asses out there. We deserve something nice.”

“Day after day we save this pathetic world, and no thanks are given. Just everyone saying what we did wrong. We should’ve left the world to fend for itself after they tried shoving those ridiculous accords down our throats,” Thor murmurs

Sam raises both of his hands up in defense. “Fine. Do what you want with her. I’m gonna head out.” And with that he leaves. Your heart sinks, watching the only glimmer of hope, your knight in shining armor, walk out the door. Your self-pity party is cut short by an arm snaking around your waist.

Bucky Barnes, trained assassin, mass murderer, and now current Avenger, puts his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, sending shivers down your spine while you stand frozen like a deer in headlights. “What do you say, doll? Wanna finish what we started the other night?” His hand on your waist slowly drifts down to your ass.

You stomp your heel down on his foot eliciting a groan of pain. “Last time I checked, you were in the dirt, and I was driving away that night after a successful robbery. There’s nothing to finish.”

He moves quickly as he rips your hair out of what’s securing it up, using the opportunity to tangle his hand into the roots and drag you away to a separate room. He wrenches open and throws you in, leaving you to stumble and trip. A searing pain on your forehead signaled that you hit your head.

“How about we use that snarky mouth of yours for something better hmm?” His voice is ice cold with malice as he grips your hair and yanks you up.

You cry out in pain, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers down at you. Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling and pants unzipping, you shut your eyes.

A tear escapes, cascading down your face, but his thumb gently wipes it away.

“Open your eyes, doll,” he coos.

You shake your head and screw them shut even tighter.

“I said...OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!” he roars and your eyes fly open only to see his member sticking out of his slacks right in front of your face. He’s almost fully hard as precum dribbles out of the tip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now, since you can’t seem to keep your snarky mouth shut, let’s put it to better use. How bout that?”

You don’t move, and he sighed as you look down to the floor. You hear some shuffling, a small click, and suddenly something cold and sharp is pressing under your chin, tilting your gaze to his steel blue eyes.

“Let’s try this again.” He pushes the knife harder, digging it a little deeper, but not enough to draw blood. A knife. This dirty bastard has a knife. “Suck. My. Cock.”

Pushing all your pride aside, you direct your gaze to the task in front of you. Bucky lets out an approving hum and the knife is removed from your throat. You swallow before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue from his base to the tip before wrapping your lips around him and sucking lightly.

Bucky was no slacker down there, you had to give him that. You ease your mouth down his shaft and his head tilts back.

“Oh fuck that’s it,” he moans. “Take my dick down your throat.” He grunts. His metal hand fists your hair to push your head down, sliding a few more inches into your throat. “Oh-that’s a good whore,” he breathes.

A gag is torn from you and you slap your hands against his thighs to imply you couldn’t take much more. Bucky’s only response is another grunt as he jams the rest of his length down your throat leaving your only intake of oxygen to come from your nose which was now mashed right above the base of his thick cock. As quickly as he pushed you down before, he pulls you back off by your hair, letting you go to wretch, gasping for air and freedom. A strand of saliva still connects from his tip to my lips.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He snags your hair again. “Open wide, slut.”

You do just that and he begins to fuck your throat at his own pace, sliding his entire length down every time. Tears brim at your eyes, not just from the lack of oxygen, but the humiliation of the moment as well. The time passes much too slowly for your liking, minutes dragging on for eternity, before he begins to reach his climax.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His cock twitches in your mouth.He holds your head with both hands as he releases straight into your mouth, warm thick strands of his release coating the back of your throat. He pulls out  with a pop and smirks down at you. “Good little sluts swallow” he orders.

You glare up at him, making a show of not doing anything.

“Well?” he demands and raises a dark brow.

You spit his own climax onto his expensive shoes.

“Why you-!” He raises his hand, getting ready to send a smack to your face.

“Barnes!” A female voice comes from the doorway as the door flies open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

There stood none other than the Black Widow.

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt

So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 

Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!

Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.

In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 

Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.

As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ��just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?

A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!

AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!

The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.

The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 

It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.

Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.

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[inhuman-obey-me]

Melody of Revenge

Word Count: 2.4k Description: Everyone knows not to mess with Lucifer Morningstar. Some, however, make the mistake of going after his family instead. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Lucifer was next, and this ended up getting really long, so uh ... yeah. Can be found on AO3 here. content warning: torture, so much torture, blood, body horror/mutilation

Fear and intimidation. Lucifer knew how to use both effectively, striking terror into any and all who looked upon him. The Avatar of Pride rarely had to remind others of just who he was, but every now and then, someone decided to step out of line. It couldn’t be helped -- imbeciles could be found wherever beating hearts or souls resided.

Tonight, however, he was dealing with a very particular kind of imbecile. One that had crossed a line so gravely that he had planned an entire torture routine in his mind as he made his way through the halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Flames of anger licked his insides as he made his way to the dungeons, but he had to keep his rage under control. Lucifer always had to be in control, every action and word deliberate and planned. He didn’t have a choice to be anything less.

“Barbatos.” He greeted the loyal butler and friend, who stood at the entrance of a particular hall of cells.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” The usual polite smile alighted his lips, though a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to handle this one?”

“Absolutely.” He responds firmly, immediately. Barbatos usually had the pleasure of torturing those who crossed the Devildom, and he took great delight in it -- far more than even Lucifer would. After all, Lucifer found torture and punishment as a means to an end, a form of discipline.

Barbatos simply did it for fun.

“Then by all means,” the royal servant bowed slightly, gesturing with one arm towards the dark hall. “She’s all yours.” With that, he left the dungeons, having a great many other tasks to attend to for the day -- though couldn’t help leaving with a melodic, “Have fun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s lips. Oh, he planned to make this a very enjoyable time indeed. Taking a deep breath -- making sure that he was in control -- he dropped his glamour to reveal more of his demon form and walked forward to unlock one of the metal cell doors. It creaked open, allowing for the sounds of muffled screams to leave the dark room.

“Hello, Abyzou.”

The protests suddenly stopped, a chill seeming to settle in the air. Lucifer slowly lit the torches along the dungeon’s walls, bathing the room in a hellish orange light. There, in the middle of the cell, sat the traitor, bound and gagged. Her serpentine eyes looked up at Lucifer with a mix of fear and anger, but she otherwise remained silent and still.

“What’s wrong? Suddenly decided it was a good time to be quiet?” His voice is calm. Too calm. He eases his long coat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a hook by the door. Gloved hands begin to roll up his sleeves as he turns to look at the other demon again, a sigh leaving him. He stepped forward, and with a yank removed the gag from her mouth. “Is that better?”

Abyzou coughed, spitting to the side as she flexed her jaw after it being bound for so long. He allowed her to adjust -- he was a demon of patience, after all.

“Lucifer … “ She begins with his name, spoken with a certain kind of reverence. “I didn’t realize you would be visiting me here.”

“You didn’t?” The surprise in his voice is almost genuine. “Strange, I figured you would have been expecting me any day now, considering the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look upon the greater demon. There was a hint of shame in her expression, but it gave way to a twisted smile as she shook her head. “I see . . .”

“Do you?” He speaks sharply, his hatred for her beginning to show. He grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you see, Abyzou? Or are you still trying to play innocent?”

She hissed as his fingertips pressed into her skin, the red leather of his gloves saving her from the wrath of his claws -- for now. She stared into those magnetic ruby eyes and all the power they held, all of the destruction they could unleash, all of the pain they could bring.

“But was I wrong?” Abyzou knew her end was imminent, especially if the Avatar of Pride himself had requested to punish her personally. So what was the use in being anything but honest? “Was I truly wrong, Lord Lucifer?” The reverence once held in her voice was gone, replaced with mockery. She shifted in her bonds, leaning into the hand that held her jaw. “You know that the Devildom is stronger and better than the other realms, and yet we’re forced to grovel to the likes of angels!” Stretching out her neck, she continued with a jeer. “Or do you and your brothers miss having those white wings and halos for yourselves that much?”

Lucifer roughly pushed her face away from him, hand releasing her jaw. He took a step back, eyes full of cold fury still focused on the other demon. His gaze then swept the cell, taking note of the various torture instruments on display -- but grinned when he saw that Barbatos made sure to include the absolute essential. A vinyl player, the perfect record already in place to set the mood. He set it up to play, allowing the first notes to spill into the air before resuming his interrogation.

“So, you thought yourself better than the others who had agreed to His Royal Highness’ vision?” Lucifer begins to tug at the seam of one of his gloves, steadily peeling it off his hand. “Of course, we knew that plenty of the nobles had their concerns, and many voiced them, yourself included.” He sets the removed glove to the side, now beginning to take off the other. “And yet, you still decided that you would try and work against us behind the scenes,” The second glove joins its pair. “And, what I’m really trying to understand -- truly, I am -- is why you thought it would be a good idea to try and undermine the Seven Lords?”

Abyzou shifted in place, her earlier burst of bravado dwindling, and goosebumps rose along her skin as she listened to the music he decided to play. It was common knowledge to never get on Lucifer’s bad side, but she had taken the risk -- and now she would be answering for it. She lowered her head, staring at the cold stone floor, suddenly finding the way the orange light from the flames bounced and shimmered of great interest. “I . . . “ She started, trying to choose her next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you or your brothers. I was doing what I thought would be best … including for you all! Can’t you see that I was trying to protect you, protect us?”

A piercing, incredulous laugh left Lucifer’s lips, his deep voice sending chills down Abyzou’s spine. He picked up the spool of twisted rope and approached her once more, the steady clack clack from his shoes’ heels echoing throughout the cell, mingling with the slowly increasing crescendo.

“Aby, Aby, Aby . . .” Lucifer clicked his tongue before he roughly collected a fistful of her long raven locks, eliciting a sharp cry as her head was wrenched back to look up at him. “That was your first mistake.”

The Avatar of Pride was nothing short of an expert when it came to stringing others up from the ceiling, though in this particular case, he wanted to make sure it hurt. The imprisoned demon thrashed and squirmed, but he was able to lift and tie her up with ease, making sure that the rough jute cut into her scaly skin just short of making her bleed -- for now. He tied the rope up to her waist, then put each wrist in a metal clasp that was chained to the floor, stretching out her arms to either side.

“You thought you needed to protect us? A sweet gesture,” He derided her, a claw coming up to slowly trace from her chin down through her cheek, drawing blood as it broke skin. “And an absolute lie. Your little act had every intention to put my brothers at risk, in harm’s way … “ A second claw followed the first, creating a ribbon of shredded skin. Abyzou hissed at the pain, biting back anything else in an effort to save some sense of dignity. “ … and you had the audacity to think you’d get away with it. Truly incredible.” The faux amazement in his tone felt like thorns in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look into his face.

“What’s the matter, Abyzou? Shouldn’t you be used to being in this kind of position, or at least … something not too far from it?” Lucifer smirked, delighted to see her eyes shoot back open, bright yellow irises staring at him in disbelief. “If I remember correctly … Solomon had you tied up in front of his temple, and by your hair, at that.”

That riled her up. Forked tongue lashed out to flick at his face, a series of curses leaving her lips soon after. Fangs bared, she hissed, “Don’t you dare bring up that bastard! To think that I wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on him the moment he stepped into our realm. He deserves to have his neck twisted, but you … !”

“But I . . ?” Lucifer took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, nonchalantly wiping away at where her tongue and spit landed on his visage. “Please, do go on.”

“You … you, all of you, let him in with open arms! Even after knowing everything he’s done, how he’s treated our own kind! I don’t care if you say he’s changed, HE NEEDS TO BE TORN LIMB FROM LIMB!” She screamed, thrashing about in her binds, chains rattling as she struggled.

“Temper, temper, Aby.” Oh, that sadistic, pointed grin. A wave of euphoria washed over him, seeing her like this. “You have no room to talk, considering what you’ve done.” He watched as the blood from her face dropped and dripped to the floor, a hum leaving his lips.

“Perhaps you need some more reminding of just how badly you fucked up this time.” He raised a hand, chanting a curse that caused a swirl of glowing energy to encircle both of her hands. It weaved through her clenched fists, forcing them open, and wrapped like binding around each finger. She cried out in pain as she felt the magical binding began to gradually crush her fingers, cutting off circulation knuckle by knuckle.

“You tried to have some of my brothers poisoned,” All five claws of one hand pierced the skin of her upper arm, retracted, pierced again a bit lower, and repeated -- gradually making way down her entire arm. More and more blood began to drip, the usual greenish hue of her scaly skin now awash in dark red. “You tried to gather enough support to attack them, because you were too much of a coward to come face any of us yourself. Though, it’s laughable that you thought you could do damage to us in the first place.”

“I … I’m sorry!” She knew any apologies here were useless, but the pain that she now felt at every point in her body was becoming too agonizing to ignore. “I felt like I was left with no choice!” She felt her vision get hazy, the smell of her blood and the sharp strikes of pain -- from the rope, from his claws, from the curse -- overwhelming her senses. And that damned music, it was driving her insane.

“No choice?” Lucifer scoffed, his claws now repeating the treatment on her other arm. “Abyzou, you did have a choice.” His brows furrowed, wings stretching out as he brought his face close to her upside-down one. “You just chose the wrong one.”

Tears stung her eyes, the magic binding on her hands crushing her fingers until there would be nothing left. She could hear her blood drip in puddles on the floor, and yet the bleeding wasn’t enough for her life to end anytime soon.

“Please … please, Lord Lucifer … just finish me already.” She begged, though deep down she knew her cries for mercy would be futile.

Lucifer’s usual stoic expression settled on his features. He watched her for a moment, then turned around and walked to the table by the door where he had laid his gloves. A cloth was folded neatly next to them, which he took to wipe the blood off of his hands, murmuring a spell to help fully rid his skin of any that remained. Then, he pulled his gloves back on, tugging on the seams to make sure that they were on properly, fingers flexing in the red leather.

“I’m sure that’s what you would like, Abyzou.” His voice is eerily low, his back still turned to the demoness. She could hear him setting something up, but was unable to make out what it was.

Then he started humming, a haunting sound added to the sharp strings and bellowing percussion.

He dragged the table closer to her suspended body, stepping aside to show what was left on it.

She nearly choked. There, next to the record player, was another similar device -- but this one wasn’t for playing.

“However, I have no intention of giving you a quick end. You’ll remain here, like this, until every last drop of blood leaves your body, and your hands are thoroughly crushed, and those ropes cut through you. But, you won’t be completely alone.”

He gingerly raises the needle, setting it onto the record at the correct position. Resuming his humming, he hit the Record button, and the disc began to spin, the needle etching everything it heard into the vinyl. “We’ll have a lovely keepsake to remember you by. Ah, and don’t worry … this is all using magic, so it will document everything up until your last breath.”

Abyzou tried to thrash about with what strength she had left, but in the end only caused herself pain, the chains shackled to her wrists ringing and clanging.

“Farewell, Abyzou.”

With that, Lucifer left the cell, the large metal door shutting to a close behind him. He made his way back through the dungeon halls, a smirk on his lips as he heard a loud, wailing shriek in the distance.

[astranva]

Dad!Harry having all daughters and all of them are either doing his hair or putting makeup on him while asking him silly questions about himself 😙

Title: Beautiful Chaos

Word Count: 1.9k

Category: dad!harry fluff

Warnings: Not proofread but none other than that.

That was lovely to write, too, my heart is about to buRST although I couldn’t find a suitable photo for the Instagram post I add at the end oops

There were a lot of things that your husband, Harry, enjoyed. Like, you spooning him after a long day at work, like smelling your coconut scent through the house, and like the fact that he was a father of 3 healthy girls.

Perla, Emerald, and Ruby were 3 girls whom Harry could go to hell and back for, not to mention you, but it had always been like that since the moment he met you.

Perla, being 7 years old, frequently took pride in her “big sister” title, wearing it like a sash around her and especially at her school and around her friends. Out of her sisters, she was the most protective of her family and it was something that had never failed to make you and Harry melt.

Harry even often found himself going on his phone, watching a video he had discreetly recorded when she was only 2. She was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes following your every move as you made her a sandwich with your baby bump showing, in your 9th month.

“careful, mummy.”

“Mummy, careful!”

“Thank you, mummy. Thank you, little baby.”

She had said during the video, adding a kiss to your bump after her last sentence.

Then Emerald came into the world, and Harry sometimes found himself wondering if his heart had doubled its size to fit all the love he had for his family.

Being 5, Emerald – or Emma as you all frequently called her – was quiet. She was a collected, flexible child who enjoyed art. Harry’s music? She would be listening carefully to it, saying comments that not all 5-year-olds would say;

“I like the piano here.”

“Uncle Mitch did a great job here!”

“Daddy, the bass is so low.”

And it only made sense that yours and Harry’s phones were full of pictures of her with her toy guitar around her shoulders, strumming as she cutely sang Harry’s songs or even some Fleetwood Mac into her green microphone.

And then came your youngest, being 3 – Ruby.

Ruby was a funny and hyperactive child. No hairstyle could sit still for her and more often than not, she sat with messy and chaotic brown hair, clothes a little disheveled. She was definitely more of a risk-taker than her sisters.

You remember only months ago at the beginning of the year, before the pandemic outbreak, when you and Harry were visiting a friend of yours from work and they had a big dog, a Great Dane, Perla and Emerald hiding behind you and Harry as they saw the dog but Ruby thrashed in Harry’s arms, demanding he put her down so she can “play with the puppy.”

And the one time you were at Anne’s, Ruby had curiously poked Dusty’s stomach, which the cat didn’t like to defend itself, it scratched 2-year-old Ruby’s hand.

Everyone stared in shock, waiting for Ruby to break down and cry but were surprised when she stared at her hand with a frown before looking at Dusty who walked off,

“Sorry!” She had only shouted at the cat before standing and grabbing a grape to eat.

With the pandemic outbreak, your family of 5 was quarantined in your London home. Refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, you had guided your daughters to understanding how important it was to wear a face mask while outside because it was their duty towards all people, you and Harry included.

But with the pandemic, you and Harry were busy at creating ways that would keep the kids busy as well. From movie nights to activities, you both had tried to keep the kids entertained as well as aware of what was going on as best as you could.

It was one day when everything was just slow-paced, quiet, and chill. Harry had shaved his beard and left a mustache, one that your daughters were very amused by and had been all week.

You sat with your laptop on your lap, earphones connected as you watched The Good Place, but keeping the sound low enough for you to hear what your kids were conversing about.

Harry sat beside you, reading a book he had picked up a couple of days ago, his hand behind your back, fingers gently and mindlessly caressing your back, stroking it up and down in a comforting and soothing manner.

Perla and Ruby were sat together, coloring the most recent sketched you had printed them, while Emerald was sat on the floor against your legs, trying to make you and Harry a beaded bracelet from the toy set Harry had gotten her earlier.

“Mummy, does this look nice?” She asked, turning to look at you as she raised a pink-beaded thread string.

You lowered your laptop screen, looking at her. “It looks very nice, baby. Do you want me to tie it?”

“Yes, please.” She stood, handing you the string and watching you in awe as you did as if you were doing pure magic. You tied it in the way you had learned years ago, when friendship bracelets were a thing, making sure that it can get tighter or looser, however the wearer wanted.

“There you go.”

“Thank you, Mummy.” She grinned as she took it before moving to Harry, attempting to climb him which earned her a giggle from him as he helped her up, putting his book aside before mentally cursing himself because he didn’t know where he stopped.

“Look! I made you this!” Emerald grinned as she handed Harry the bracelet, watching excitedly and waiting for his reaction.

Harry gasped dramatically, “Woooow!” He looked at the bracelet lovingly, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he put it on, vowing to never take it off to himself. “I love it, Em. Thank you so much, baby.”

Emerald grinned bashfully, raising her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she did, Harry grabbing her to press a kiss against her hairline.

You watched with pure love, show long forgotten as you paused and gave your full attention to the scene.

Noticing what was going on, your oldest and youngest paused their coloring to approach you and look at their dad’s new jewelry.

“Good job, Em. Can you make me one?” Your oldest, Perla, asked excitedly as she eyed the bracelet before grinning at her shorter sister, who excitedly nodded at her.

“Me, too!” Ruby chimed, “But blue!”

“First, Mummy,” Emerald pointed at you, “Then Per,” she pointed at her older sister, “Then Rube.”

“Starting a business, aren’t you?” Harry joked, bringing her close to his chest as he playfully gnawed on her cheek, smiling as she squealed out in laughter.

As if the idea had been in her mind for a while, Perla suddenly blurted out a question:

“Daddy, can I put makeup on you?”

You grinned, looking at Harry and waiting for his reply.

He looked at you quickly before moving back to Perla, “I don’t see why not. Go on, get the stuff you need.”

“Ruby, you think we can paint daddy’s nails?” You asked your youngest with an excited grin, hearing your husband laugh.

Ruby nodded with a squeal, holding your hand as you stood up before Perla ran in front of you, you and Ruby following her as you ran towards yours and Harry’s room to get the stuff needed.

“Blue!” Ruby pointed at the blue nail polish bottle while Perla stood with your makeup bag, “And pink.”

“Yellow, too,” Perla added.

“How about we take the whole thing.” You chuckled as you gathered the box in your hands, walking behind your squealing, excited daughters.

At the sight of you, Emerald lit up, “I’ll do daddy’s hair!”

“You girls are giving Daddy a whole makeover, huh?” Harry laughed lovingly, welcoming all the attention.

You sat on Harry’s right, Ruby on his left with the blue nail polish bottle in her hand as she sat on her stomach with Harry’s hand waiting for her. Perla sat on Harry’s lap while Emerald climbed and seated herself on Harry’s shoulders, scrunchie around her wrist as she played with Harry’s hair.

Harry would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how everything was right there and then. His wife was painting his nails in pink, pastel yellow, and baby blue while his 3-year-old was having her go with his other hand, getting polish on his cuticles but trying nonetheless. His oldest daughter brushing his cheeks with her mom’s blush brush, while his 5-year-old was gently pulling on his hair.

“Okay, done,” Perla closed the blush before moving to choose a lipstick, ending up with your red Mac one and opening it, “Daddy, do like that.” She instructed, puckering her lips. So Harry did, looking up as he did and trying to stifle his giggles as she put on lipstick on his puckered lips, “Okay, no more.” So he set his lips back, Perla continuing on applying the vibrant red color.

You hunched a little forward, a smile making its way to your lips, “Looking beautiful, baby.”

He hummed, his chest shaking with laughter as he felt the lipstick above his upper lip before Perla pulled back and looked back in the bag to apply anything more. He looked at you as you painted the last nail in pink, keeping only his middle finger’s nail in pastel yellow while his thumb and index were in baby blue, his ring and pinky’s being in pink. “Feeling so, too.” He said as he closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of contentment for emphasis, overly dramatic, making you laugh.

It was 20 minutes later when his girls were done with their work and pushed him towards him and his wife’s bedroom, where they had a full-body length mirror.

He looked absolutely chaotic, and he loved everything about it. While his hair stuck in all directions, some lockets were collected by Emerald’s peach-colored scrunchie, one hand was nicely painted – which was painted by his wife – while the other was an absolute mess of blue but you can spot the attempt and it was nothing a nail polish remover couldn’t fix, his eyelids having some glitter on them, red lipstick nicely put except for a smudge right above his upper lip, cheeks too pink.

“What do you think?” Perla asked excitedly.

“Wow!” Harry breathed out, moving closer to the mirror, “I look glamorous!” He put his hands up in a peace sign, puckering his lips and popping up a leg as he posed, making his family laugh.

“Wait, let’s take a picture.” You grinned, raising your phone up as everyone got into a spot; Emerald had her arm thrown on Ruby’s shoulders as she smiled, Ruby sticking her tongue out, Perla choosing to sit down in front of her sisters, crossing her legs as she grinned with her eyes closed. You stood behind the hugging sisters, against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped one arm around your shoulders from the back, the other around your waist as he smiled into the mirror, his head leaning down to press his cheek against yours. You held your phone with one hand, the other reaching up to hold on to Harry’s arm around you as you grinned before taking the picture.

“Let’s frame that.” Harry whispered to you in bliss, looking at the photo from behind you before moving to wrap both arms around your waist, “Thank you, love. For making me the happiest man alive.”

[alfredosauce50]

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California. 

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice? 

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you. 

So here I am. 

Surely, that wouldn’t fly. 

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place. 

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it. 

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it. 

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared. 

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug. 

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all. 

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”  

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?” 

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting. 

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect. 

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.” 

“... But where’s Lilli?”  

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.” 

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger. 

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point. 

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?   

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant. 

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!” 

“Why, because I’m… European?” 

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points. 

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?” 

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.” 

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here. 

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon. 

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving. 

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor? 

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him. 

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him. 

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?” 

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.” 

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy,  good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why. 

You figured you’d ask later. 

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”  

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.” 

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction. 

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken. 

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?” 

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion. 

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand. 

Something was wrong, for sure. 

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right. 

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand. 

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive? 

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave. 

And when he did, Basch lost his shit. 

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail. 

That was right. Since when was he so possessive? 

So jealous? 

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt. 

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance. 

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay. 

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se. 

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake. 

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?” 

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.” 

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his. 

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had. 

But why didn’t he ever tell you? 

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”  

Because he’d been denying it. 

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.” 

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame. 

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.” 

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth. 

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way. 

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head. 

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before. 

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered. 

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years. 

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills. 

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his. 

In fact, it excited him.

[little-diable]

NSFW Alphabet - Jasper Hale

Request by anon: Jasper hale nsfw alphabet please and thank you! 🥺🥰

Enjoy my loves. xxx

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Oh Jasper would definitely take his time, he’d get a warm washcloth from his bathroom, would wipe (y/n) clean, while he would place lingering kisses across her thighs. It would be important for him, to show (y/n) how much he truly cares about her, no matter how rough he had been a few minutes ago, he wanted her to feel loved and safe. Maybe he would take a bath with her, massage her shoulders and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. 

B = Body part (Their favorite body part and also their partner’s)

Jaspers favorite body part of his would probably be his hands, even though some battle scars were gracing his skin, they’d only show what he had been through, trying to survive for the past century. 

He would be in love with (y/n)s thighs, the way she’d be able to wrap them around his waist, pull him closer, while he would grasp them with two hands, nails clawing into her skin, leaving marks behind. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…I’m a disgusting person)

The vampire would love to cum inside of (y/n), he’d be obsessed with the warmth that would spread through both of their bodies, the way it would drip out of her core, the moment he was pulling out, definitely a sight to see.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I wouldn’t call it a dirty secret, but Jasper definitely would have his fantasies about seeing (y/n) in a pair of good cowboy boots. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Jasper wouldn’t be as experienced before he met (y/n), of course he’d have a few flings here and there, but nothing serious, where he’d be able to explore his wild side. He wouldn’t be a lost cause though, Jasper would know how to pleasure (y/n), he’d have her body memorized, would know how to push her over the edge, how to tease her. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

(Not putting a visual in here, we don't want tumblr to remove this one, sorry. xxx) 

Doggy style all the way, Jasper would grasp (y/n) hips, skin slapping against hers, he’d be able to reach places deep inside of her, tease her sweet spot with every thrust. But, he wouldn’t say no to (y/n) being on top either, the way he’d be able to grab her boobs, let (y/n) take control for a few minutes. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

As goofy as Jasper could be, most of the time his darker, rougher side would come out to play,  pleasuring (y/n) was something he’d take very seriously. Of course, if both of them were in a good mood, there could escape some giggles here and there. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Jasper certainly wouldn’t have any problems with a fast growth of hair, he’d keep it nice and clean though. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

I would call it a good balance between romantic and dominant, Jasper would certainly adore making love to (y/n), take his time with her, shower her with love, but he’d struggle with letting loose and not control every little aspect.  

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcannon)

Jasper wasn’t one for jacking off, after all, (y/n) would be by his side 24/7, there would be no need for it. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Oh boy, where should we start? First off, Jasper definitely would have the hots for the major kink, he would love to be called that by her, reflecting his dominant side. Jasper would also love to tie (y/n) up, restricting her from moving around too much, just like he’d choke her, if he’d be in the mood for it. Maybe even knife play, the risk of losing control, tiptoeing around such a dangerous situation, it would urge him on, intensify his desire. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere where nobody would disturb their peace, his bed, if the family was out hunting, in the back of his car, maybe even in the woods, a place where both would feel comfortable. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Well, what doesn’t motivate him, should be a proper question. (Y/n) would know how to tease him, how to get him into the mood, maybe he’d need to prove to her once again, who she’d belong to, out of jealousy or maybe just because lovely (y/n) had been a brat that day. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Probably pegging, anything where toys would be involved, also Jasper wouldn’t be a fan of anal in general. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He wouldn’t say no to (y/n) going down on him, but he would definitely reward her afterwards. Just like with anything else, Jasper would take his time, would know how to properly curl his fingers, to gaze her sweet spot, he’d suck on her clit, while he’d pound his fingers in and out of (y/n)s core. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Rough, rough, rough, Jasper would only make love to her, if both of them were in the mood for it, maybe he’d even use it as a reward, if (y/n) had been an exceptionally good girl that day. He would prefer to absolutely w r e c k (y/n), pounding into her, while he was marking her skin with his fingers. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Jasper wouldn’t be a fan of hurrying things, don’t get me wrong, (y/n) and Jasper could go for it literally anywhere, anytime, but only if they were in a safe spot, where nobody would walk in on them. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Maybe behind closed doors, experimenting with new positions, ropes and handcuffs, but only things both would feel comfortable with. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I mean, our boy is a vampire, he wouldn’t get tired, he could go for it for days on end, if only (y/n) wouldn’t pass out from exhaustion. Jasper would last pretty long, always trying to make her cum first. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No, why would he use them, if he could pleasure her just as good, even better than that. 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He would be a master at teasing (y/n), he’d love to see her struggle in public, trying to control her desire, her emotions, but he would lose his patience quite quickly. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Both (y/n) and Jasper would be pretty vocal, there would be no need to swallow down any moans, he would want to hear her, knowing that he was the one, that was pleasuring her this good. 

W = Wild Card (I chose: Nicknames you call him/ he calls you )

He’d call (y/n) darlin’, nothing goes beyond “darlin’”, accent thick as he’d call her that. She would call him “love” or “major”, only behind closed doors though. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Only one word to describe him: impressive. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Uh, let me tell you, definitely high, he’d be obsessed with (y/n), thinking about hovering above her and pounding into her nonstop. 

Z = ZZZ (…how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Don’t think we need to cover that one, do we? 

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

part 012/015 “something new”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.2k

an: this was the dress inspiration and tux look referenced at one point in this part. btw this was finished awhile ago and i forgot to post it? :(

The world post-blip saw a lot of changes. And with you being out of the loop already, there were some important changes you wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.

Natasha became the backbone of the Avengers (though some including you would argue she always had been.) She was the one who stayed at the Compound and worked through the intel she received from the team who was not only spread out over the world, but in space. Yeah you were still getting used to that too.

Steve wasn’t in the game anymore. Not as much, really. He was still Captain America (he’d always be Captain America), but he took a more direct approach with helping people. The last you knew he was running a help group in the city for those who needed the support.

Tony did something that changed your life along with his. He started his own family. A few months after the snap, he was walking by your side through Central Park when he broke the news to you that Pepper and him were going through with the weeding in two weeks. You were shocked, but happy of course.

“We just don’t want to wait anymore,” Tony told you. “Can’t ask her to wait forever on me.”

It was beautiful. Like you pointed out before, Tony liked to be dramatic. But you couldn’t help but shed a tear at seeing your new sister-in-law come down the aisle. Their vows were very much themselves, shared jokes that only they understood (something about 12% Tony told her at the altar.) The only downside to their wedding was going stag, and also having to see Steve there.

Ever since you were hit with the memories of what happened the night of your parents crash, you had these moments of, for lack of a better phrase, pure unfiltered anger. Though those moments were far and few now that you were back to a “normal” life (as normal as this could be) you still found yourself zoning out on occasion. And that wasn’t safe. You couldn’t help but swirl the flute of champagne around as your mind drifted off to your last episode.

It was night time, on a full moon no less. The air had a slight chill to it, enough to where you could see the hot breath of air released from your victim. They ran, jumping over the foliage that covered the ground. They were frantic, which made this easier for you. You moved slowly as they tripped over a branch, sliding across the cold ground as you towered over them. The woman cried out, crawling over the leaves scattered over the ground. She didn’t turn to face you until you came to a stop at her feet. You didn’t even recognize the tears in her eyes.

“Пожалуйста,” (Please) she begged you. Your dead set eyes didn’t budge as she pushed herself up to a seated position. “Почему вы это делаете?” (Why are you doing this?)

You clenched your fist by your side, the anger coming up to a boil. “Ты меня не помнишь?” (You don’t remember me?) She shook her head and your eye twitched. You crouched down to look her in the eye and tilted your head. “Ты сказал мне, что поможешь мне почувствовать себя лучше ... И что моя семья идет за мной.” (You told me you’d help me feel better.. And that my family was coming for me.)

Something registered over her face. Fear. Recognition. It all laced together in a paled look on her face.

You stood again as she began to cry. You heard her pleas as you moved behind her, pulling the rope from your hip. Your gloved hands wrapped both ends over your knuckle so it was tight, and in a snap pulled it over her neck. She gasped and writhed under the pressure, but you never once flinched. You never felt her body stop, or her breaths for that matter, and didn’t snap out of it until you were in the shower. You were just standing under the water, which was laced with red, mumbling to yourself.

“I hope you remember them.”

A hand came down on your shoulder. You did your best to hide your jump, but Tony noticed. He didn’t say anything, but he did see it. He gave you a squeeze and you reached your free hand up to place over it. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you told him. You could see Pepper through the dancing crowd, and you smiled a bit. “You should be dancing with your wife.”

“And you should be enjoying yourself,” Tony replied.

“I will when you do,” you poked at him. He gave your hand a kiss before disappearing past the bodies. You rubbed at your neck and set your drink down at the table before playing with the fabric of your dress. The one slit up your leg was a good choice on Natasha’s part. But it all felt too stuffy. Beautiful lilac color, but just a little too tight around your--

“Didn’t come with anyone?” an all too familiar voice asked you. You flattened the fabric back down and let out a little sigh.

“I don’t really.. Know anyone who wasn’t already coming,” you said. Steve stood before you in a dark suit and lacked the black striped tie he was wearing earlier. He nodded but you shrugged. “I just met Wong though. He’s nice.”

“Yeah he is,” Steve replied. You noticed the song change, something a little slower paced. The lights dimmed down a bit and you shifted a bit in your seat. “Would you like to dance?”

You thought it over for a moment. It seemed like the dance floor was packed, barely anyone was left amongst the tables, and you rubbed your arm. “I don’t really know how to..”

There was a hint of a smile, enough to make your stomach twist, and he offered his hand to you. “Lucky for you I’m a professional.”

You bit back a smile, and slowly placed your hand in his. Steve helped you stand and he led you out to the floor. There was enough space for the two of you, and he turned back to face you. The hand that engulfed yours tightened a bit, his fingers gently grazed over the back of your hand. Your other hand floated over his arm and rested on his shoulder, and you felt his other hand on your waist.

Steve led, taking a step to the side and you followed. You were closer than you would have preferred, but with a glance around the room the lack of space seemed standard. You felt like you were gliding across the floor and you looked back at your partner. “I had no idea you had such a talent.”

“Ah well I had promised Nat I would be prepared the next time I asked someone to dance,” he explained. Steve suddenly removed his hand from your waist and twirled you around. When you met his gaze again you had a raised brow, and when he pulled you back into him you laughed a bit.

“Kudos to her then,” you said barely above a whisper. You felt his fingers seem to rub against your side, and then he spoke softly.

“I would do anything for my best gal.”

There were some more changes that quickly followed within that year.

Tony really started a family. Pepper gave birth to the cutest little girl, and they ended up naming her Morgan. Who had known such a small thing could make you feel so much? You fell in love with her as soon as Tony placed her in your arms. He was teary eyed as he reached out and stroked his finger over her chubby cheek.

You knew he would do anything for this girl. And you were right behind him on that.

It was actually at her first birthday party (though this was more a party for the adults then her) was the next time you saw Steve and Natasha. Her hair was grown out, the fiery red tint mixing in with the previous white dye job. You could see the bags under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders, but after a few drinks she was much more relaxed. Pepper had put Morgan down for a nap, which left Tony, Nat, and you all mingling in a circle while Steve kept his distance.

You were grateful not to have eyes on the back of your head, but you could feel Steve’s burning into you. Tony seemingly got distracted by Pepper, excusing himself from the small and intimate group to aid his wife. Natasha glanced at you from the corner of her eye, taking a sip of the beer in her hand. “So what are you doing nowadays?”

“Besides the occasional diaper change?.. Not much. It’s quiet out here.”

It was true. Tony and Pepper relocated to a cabin outside of the city and the hustle and bustle. You loved Tony, loved being around them both, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Or like a bother even. This was Tony’s time to connect to his new family, and you couldn’t help but feel you were intruding. While your thoughts wandered off, Natasha nodded a bit, resting her closest arm to you on the back of the couch, shifting a bit to face you better. “If you wanted.. I could always use your help back at the Compound.”

You glanced back the way Tony had disappeared back into their home. You knew by the way you described it that it was his, not yours, and slowly you nodded. Before you spoke you could see Steve almost smile a bit to himself before turning his back to you. “I.. I think that would be good.”

It’s been four years since the Snap. That was really all the biggest changes you had experienced or felt you needed to catch people up on. Breaking the news to Tony that you were moving back to New York and going back to work with Natasha was a bitter pill for him to swallow, but you reassured him you’d be fine. You needed something to focus your mind on, and he understood for the most part. There was a moment though that made you nearly back out, and Tony had definitely caught it that time.

Something had played on tv that night as you helped Tony wash the dinner dishes. Morgan should’ve been in bed by then, Pepper probably waiting for Tony to join her, but Tony truly hadn’t adjusted to using normal appliances. He set off the faucet spray three times, which was two less than last week, so you took over washing duties while he dried. You had only caught a notion of what was being said on the television, but the news anchor speaking made you stop. Tony was chatting next to you, but you turned around to look at the television, only to see the flash of the story playing.

There was a body found in the woods in Russia of a woman in her mid fifties, who was strangled to death with what was identified as rope found nearby. The area was clean of any evidence, especially given how long the body was out there before hunting season started and a couple happened upon it, but it could be linked to three other murders reported on in the last 6 years. You don’t know what happened, but Tony placing his hand on your shoulder was what set you off.

The emptiness that would swallow your mind fell upon you like a curtain closing on a play. Tony would later tell you that the light in your eyes disappeared, and it was as if you didn’t know him. He said that you had very successfully removed his hand from you and shoved him back in the cabinets, rattling the dishes inside. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was enough to stun him for a few moments and give you time to desperately escape.

Tony said it took him a few moments to regain his composure, but the worry he felt propelled him out the cabin and out of earshot of Pepper’s calls for him. He wasn’t far behind you, and his calls of your name resulted in nothing but quick looks back at him, but one thing was clear to him: you weren’t okay. The next thing you remembered was something hitting your shoulder in a small jolt, which later Tony confirmed was a shock from his watch (still in testing), and him hovering over you in the darkness.

It was enough to make him concerned about you going through with your decision to rejoin Natasha. But for you it was enough to solidify your decision.

“Tony I don’t want to.. Do that around Morgan,” you whispered to him, careful with your words. “Besides you need this time with them. And I’m sure Pepper needs you more right now.”

“I can’t knowingly let you leave without even knowing what the hell is going on with you,” Tony whispered yelled at you. “You’ve avoided this conversation for two weeks, can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

You narrowed your glare at him but he only matched you. After a few seconds you grumbled in surrender and rested the last piece of clothing you were folding and walked towards the back door. Tony carefully placed Morgan into the low crib before following you outside. You faced the lake, the breeze pushing past you and into the house  in a cool breeze, and Tony came up by your side and rested his hip against the railing.

“Talk to me,” he urged you. You sighed and finally faced him, resting your hip as well on the railing.

“After learning the truth I’ve been having these.. Episodes,” you told him. “It’s like a blanket falls over me and I can’t find my way out of it until something else pulls it off. And by that time I’m not where I remember I was. Time has passed, something has happened.”

“How many times has this happened?”

“Last time made five,” you admitted guiltily. “I don’t know what causes it, or how to stop it.. But being busy, keeping my mind on track, seems to help the most.”

Tony thought your words over, before nodding to himself and looking out to the lake. You followed his lead and looked back out to the setting sun, the breeze and chirps of birds lulling the silence, before Tony spoke again.

“If you go you have to check in with me,” Tony compromised. “I’m going to make sure FRIDAY sends me updates on your brain waves, try and figure out what triggers it if it happens again.”

You smiled to yourself and linked your arm through his and came to rest your head against his shoulder. “You’re truly the best brother I could’ve asked for.”

Tony let out a pfft noise, before lifting his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead as you both stared out at the lake. “We’ll get through this together.”

Tony wouldn’t admit this to anyone, especially you, but after you departed for the city he made a house call a few days later. Tony stood before the apartment door unsure if this was the best idea, and ready to flee if no one came in 10 more seconds. But when he heard the footsteps on the other side he let out a sigh and mumbled to himself. “This is for her sake Tony.”

The door opened to reveal his former friend. Steve Rogers looked nearly the same as the last time he saw him at Morgan’s party (which he was only invited to because of Pepper and Natasha.) Full beard, tired eyes, and a surprised expression. “Tony?”

Tony motioned between the two of them with the glasses he pulled off while waiting. “We need to talk.”

Steve took a moment to think it over before nodding and stepping aside for Tony to enter. Tony carefully took a step in, taking in the environment and really noticing how.. Empty it all felt. Steve closed and latched the door behind his guest, which made Tony look back at him. “Should maybe leave that unlock in case anything happens.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” Steve replied. But either way he unlocked the latch before looking back at Tony. “But if it makes you more comfortable.”

“It was more for you then for me,” Tony replied back. Steve smiled a bit and nodded, and Tony tapped his hand with his glasses. “Gotta say the place hasn’t come along that much since you showed Pepper the photos.”

“You saw those?” Steve asked and Tony shrugged. Steve looked around and sighed a bit. “Was never planning on settling down here, but things change.”

Tony wondered if the sentiment was in regards to his sister. More than likely it was but he chose to ignore it. He didn’t even want to think about the unsettling feeling he had when he thought about how Steve handled things all those years ago. “I wanted to come and talk to you about something.. Personal.”

Steve raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no,” Tony sighed. He sat himself down on the couch in Steve’s plainly decorated living room, and unbuttoned his jacket in the process. “Not sure if you are aware given you aren’t in the game anymore, but Natasha invited my sister back to the Compound.. And she said yes.”

“Natasha may have mentioned it,” Steve carefully said.

“Figured as much, “ Tony replied. “Which is great, fine with me. I know she’s been feeling stuck recently.. But something happened a couple weeks ago.”

Steve’s posture changed and it unsettled Tony. But he had to punish that aside for now. This wasn’t about him and his feelings. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Tony answered in almost a whisper. Steve’s face visibly fell in a frown and concern. “She’s apparently been experiencing black outs. Aggression. I don’t know how to help her from so far away.. So I came to ask a favor.”

Steve nodded and took a step closer. “Whatever you need Tony.”

“Check in on her will you? But not in a prying way so she thinks I set you up to it.. Be a friend, “ Tony asked. Steve nodded and Tony stood, smoothing his clothes again. “Just please.. Let me know if something happens.”

“I promise,” Steve told him. He led Tony back to the door, opening it for him to exit. But Tony stopped after making it out to the hallway and turned back around pointing a finger at Steve’s chest.

“So help me Rogers.. Don’t go and mess with her feelings again or I will come here and finish what we started in Siberia.”

Steve didn’t even get a chance to respond before Tony slid his glasses back on and disappeared back towards the stairs. Instead Steve shut his door and stood there for a moment to think to himself. He was going to make sure he made it up not only to Tony, but to you. 

This would be the start of something new.

- - - - - - - - - -

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[lemonlushff-iy]

What's the dirtiest thing you've written that you never expected to write?

WIP. I'll finish it one day. Warning - it may present as Dub Con at first...but if I ever finish it, you will see that it's actually NOT. But...It feels worth adding this disclaimer regardless.

“Password?”

“Irish car bomb.”

Inuyasha watched as the metal slot slammed shut and the heavy grey door swung open, revealing the dark interior beyond the snake demon guarding the entrance. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and he could see it swirling in plumes from where he stood on the threshold.

The snake moved to the side, his yellow eyes narrowing when Inuyasha didn’t enter. He didn’t want to go in, but he didn’t have much of a fucking choice, did he? Thanks for that, Miroku and Sesshomaru.

“You coming or what, half breed?”

Not because he wanted to…

“Yeah,” he sighed, running his fingers through his shaggy hair before finally crossing the threshold into hell. It was dingy. Dirty. He was amazed he could smell the tang of sex in the air over all the cigarette smoke, but the further he walked down the barely lit hallway, the more that gave way to other scents.

Sex. Drugs. Alcohol.

It made his skin crawl.

“What am I getting myself into,” he sighed, slowly descending the stairs he found at the end of the hallway until he reached the club itself. Sweaty bodies ground together on the dance floor and lasers flashed down on the gyrating bodies from above, illuminating their flesh as they moved together.

He wasn’t interested in them, however. He was after something else.

His eyes swept over the crowd, and if he were self-conscious enough, he would have felt out of place there. His simple red button-down and jeans made him feel like a boy scout compared to the way the tight and short clothing fit all of these other patrons. If he wanted to blend in and find his adopted brother, he was going to have to change that a little.

He undid the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, hoping that made him look a bit more like the typical clientele of the joint. No one was bothering him though, so he figured he was on the right path at least.

Inuyasha’s eyes swept the crowd as he looked for the backroom or a VIP area...Anywhere this “gang leader” could be hanging out. He didn’t know much about him. Just that he needed to find “Silver” to work things out. He couldn’t lose Shippo.

The guys were dumb, but they didn’t deserve to be held captive here or forced into this gang.

He spotted something in the back of the club that looked like a VIP section - rope and curtains included. There was a small gathering of women...all dressed in club clothing and looking far too beautiful to be related to this gang as anything more than arm candy...but...He knew they were his destination. If he were looking to find someone named Silver, they just felt like the people to ask.

His ears pinned themselves down to his head as he began to weave his way through the throng of bodies on the dance floor. He felt hands trying to pull him into dancing - palming his chest and upper body as he walked, and he shrugged them off as best he could. He needed to stay focused - he couldn’t afford any distractions. He had come this far, and he wasn’t about to lose his way now.

A flash of silver hair out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to a shirtless waiter wearing a pair of black pants and matching suspenders. A white shirt collar hung around his neck, serving as the base for a black tie, and matching white cuffs stood out against his wrists.

Sesshomaru.

His golden eyes were nervous as he brought the women their drinks, placing it on the table before a woman with black, wavy hair and silver eyes. She wore a short, low cut, silver sequin dress, and a red smile on her face that made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat.

She was stunning. Mysterious. Sensual. He wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her raw then and there, but he couldn’t. He was on a mission and he couldn’t stray from his task. It was too important to him.

Now that he was closer, he could see the danger in her. The beauty that was nothing more than a front for the many mysteries she held within. He wanted to know what they were. She seemed powerful and not to be trifled with, but he didn’t care. He needed to know everything about her.

Was...he wrong?

Was she Silver?

He swallowed the thought, and his stomach dropped as she reached out and grabbed ahold of his brother’s tie, running her hands up it until she held the base at Sesshomaru’s throat. She gave it a sharp tug, making him fall forward and almost into her lap. He caught himself on the back of her chair, his palms slamming against it with what would have been a loud slap if the music wasn’t blaring overhead.

Inuyasha watched “Silver” smirk and tilt her head up, whispering something to Sesshomaru, and Inuyasha could see his brother’s Adam's apple bob at her words. He nodded his head, murmuring a response before she slid her fingers into his hair and brought his ear to her lips. He couldn’t discern what they were talking about, but it was making his stomach knot. He knew he needed to get to them, and now.

“SESSHOMARU!” He bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to make his voice carry, but it was just drowned out. He wasn’t going to get their attention this way. He no longer cared about blending in. He shoved his way through the crowd, disgruntled patrons shooting him glares and yelling “hey!” and “Watch it asshole!” as he went until he was standing in front of the VIP area.

“Sesshomaru!” he yelled, and “Silver” broke away from his brother in annoyance, her eyes warming slightly as she took him in. He felt her gaze roam up his body, taking in every inch of him. Weighing him. Judging him. Calculating the situation.

“You know this man, Pet?” she demanded, and Inuyasha knew in that moment that he was right. This was “Silver”, alright.

“I’m his brother,” Inuyasha replied before Sesshomaru could. “I’m here for him, and I’m not leaving without him.”

Silver’s red lips widened into a smile as she reclined in her chair, propping her chin on a relaxed, curled fist.

“Really? The dog has a half breed for a brother?”

Inuyasha did his best to contain his growl, but Silver could still hear it, if the way her smile widened was any indicator.

“Do you know why he’s here, oh brother of his?”

“I do.”

“Then you know that he’s not just walking out of here,” she informed him curtly, her eyes roaming up and down his body again. He noticed that the other women beside her were doing the same, and he noticed for the first time that all of the women there were appraising him. One of the women beside her leaned in to whisper something to Silver, and he watched the long, thick lashes around her eyes lower as she listened.

“Mmmm...Already ahead of you, Kikyo,” he heard her reply, and this response seemed to please Kikyo greatly.

“I don’t care,” Inuyasha replied, trying to ignore the exchange between the women, but it was hard. He had a feeling it was about him, and it made him nervous. “He’s not staying here with you.”

“Sesshomaru has a debt to be paid,” she calmly informed him. “Now, I can’t just...overlook this, nor can I overlook his transgressions...Do you understand what I mean?”

Paid. Money. Alright. He could do this. It would be hard...but he’d figure out something.

“Ok. How much?”

The women around him laughed, and he suddenly got the impression that perhaps it wasn’t monetary.

“What is your name, ‘brother’,” Silver demanded, and he swallowed. She was far too calm for his taste.

He saw Sesshomaru open his mouth, perhaps to reply on his behalf, but a wind demoness with a high ponytail and magenta eyeshadow pulled him down to her seat. He watched his brother situate himself in her lap, allowing her to run her fingers down his suspenders. His chest. His pectorals. She circled his nipples, flicking them and scraping his nails against them, and all the while, Sesshomaru said nothing - allowing her to have her way with his body however she saw fit.

“Inuyasha,” he whispered, unable to remove his eyes from his brother. Sesshomaru wouldn’t meet his gaze. He looked like he actually enjoyed the demoness’s attention, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now.

“Inuyasha,” Silver purred, her smile widening. “An interesting and yet fitting name,” she commented offhandedly as her eyes flicked to the top of his head, and he found himself looking away from her. He didn’t need or want the reminder right now.

“Parents had a sense of humor, but enough about me. I wanna talk money. What’s it gonna take, Silver?”

“He thinks I’m Silver,” she laughed, her head tilting back as she let out a full-bodied laugh. He didn’t get what was so fucking funny, and frankly, he was starting to get annoyed. “Oh Inuyasha,” she breathed. “I’m not Silver...but your brother is mine. You’re right about that.”

“Yeah? Then who has my brother?” he demanded as she leaned forward to take a glass of red liquid from the table. The movement lowered the neckline of her dress, allowing him to see more of her breasts than he previously could, and he felt his desire for her flare.

“Well. That depends...I’m inclined to release your brother to you, Inuyasha. But, seeing as his debt needs to be paid, what you call me depends on what you’re willing to do to obtain him. Now, there is an easy way and a hard way we can do this,” she informed him, lifting her hand and two other women stood - one with short, shoulder length hair and a sight black dress that clung to every curve of her body. The other wore a black mesh catsuit with solid black cut outs that prevented you from seeing anything, yet told you that she had forgone both a bra and panties that night. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that still reached her waist, and pink eyeshadow. They moved to the sides of the VIP area, drawing the curtains around them shut to give them some privacy as they spoke.

It muffled the music significantly, enough that his ears were able to rise up from his skull, but not enough that he could no longer hear it or feel the base in his chest. Or maybe that was just the pounding of his heart he felt. Nerves. It had to be nerves.

“Alright. What’s the easy way?” he pressed, and the women who had just closed the curtain came up behind him, running their hands up and down his chest and back in a way that allowed him to connect the dots even before the woman in silver purred.

“Satisfy my whims and desires for the night, and he’s yours.”

Her eyes were dark. Salacious. Filled with desires that were impossible to mistake.

“Just the night,” he demanded, shifting his eyes away from the silver clad vixen and back to his brother.

“Please me, and yes. Just the night. You’ll take his place and do everything that I ask, and obey me fully and completely. When I say jump, you say…”

He swallowed thickly.

“How high,” he finished, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Very good...yes…” she approved, and a thousand images of her naked body entwined with his entered his mind at her praise. Images that left his heart racing and his blood heating in want. He could feel his cock twitch in excitement at the thought of bending her over the table and making her his.

“What’s the hard way?” he continued, trying to dispel the thoughts and refocus his attention. It was an obligatory ask, though he knew he had his answer.

“The hard way...Well...Let’s just say that it involves obtaining something not exactly...legally. Are you interested?”

Not particularly. No.

“Easy way it is,” he chuckled nervously, as the woman holding Sesshomaru leaned down to kiss him. At the same moment, one of the women holding Inuyasha slipped her hand inside his shirt, making his breath hitch as she palmed his pectoral muscle.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

“In that case...You may call me Mistress.”

He swallowed and felt the women on either side of him begin to unbutton his shirt. He could feel their fingers working each button through the holes in the fabric, the warm air of the club kissing his skin as the front of his chest was slowly exposed to Mistress and her friends. Despite the heat in the room, he could still feel his skin pucker and a shiver run through him as the woman with the shorter hair leaned forward and kissed his neck. His shoulder. Slid her fingers across his own nipples. He tried not to panic. This was what he had agreed to, and Mistress seemed to expect the way her friend was touching him.

It almost looked like she welcomed it and took pleasure in it. In watching the little show her friends were putting on.

“How does he taste, Yura?” she asked, and he felt Yura nip his shoulder before soothing the offended flesh with her tongue.

“Delicious. You’re lucky you get this one all to yourself.”

“Later,” Mistress mused as the other woman with the high ponytail pushed his open shirt down his shoulders before her mouth was on him as well. Licking, sucking, palming his flesh...He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself focused.

“Sango?” Mistress pressed, and her friend reached down to the front of his pants, palming him.

“Very lucky indeed…”

“Sesshomaru,” Mistress, cooed, and Inuyasha watched his brother stand to kneel before her. “Give your brother your clothes,” she demanded, and Inuyasha felt the women’s hands working on his belt.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied, rising once more and working on removing his own clothing, or lack thereof. He placed each item onto the table before the woman in silver, until he stood before them clad in nothing more than his birthday suit.

Inuyasha closed his eyes as he felt his boxer briefs being pushed down to his ankles, and he fought the urge to cover himself. What was the point? They’d all see him in all his “glory” before the night was over. He held his hands down to his side, clenching and unclenching his fists and watched as Mistress's smile widened as she took him in.

“Sesshomaru, perhaps I should have traded you a long time ago for your brother…”

Sesshomaru’s didn’t respond, nor did he.

He toed off his socks and shoes, not needing to be told to. He knew what was coming next. He didn’t need them to verbalize their demands. He bent down to pick up the cuffs first, knowing the women wanted a show, and Sango tilted her head to the side.

“He has a nice ass,” she commented, slapping it and making him straighten his back abruptly. “Nice and firm.”

“Really,” Kikyo drawled, shifting in her chair. “Do try and contain yourselves. The entertainment hasn’t even begun yet.”

“Mmmm…” Mistress agreed. “But...we have all night, ladies. Sango?” Mistress intoned, tilting her head to the side, and she begrudgingly returned to her seat. “You too,” she continued, narrowing her eyes at Yura and she reluctantly left his side as well.

He took that as his cue to keep dressing, and when he was finished, he stood at attention, waiting for her to tell him to do something.

“Pet...This area is a mess,” Mistress informed him. “Clean it and return...And while you’re there, ask the bartender for ‘Kagome’s Kit’. He will know what you mean.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he ground out picking up all of the empty bottles and glasses. When he slipped out behind the curtain he sighed, trying to wrap his head around what the hell had just happened to him in there.

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 15: Luther's Brilliant Fucking Plan

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: dehumanization, pet whump, lady whump, captivity whump, referenced torture (branding and burning), hair pulling/grabbing, referenced noncon, blackmailing, death threats, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, manhandling, shock collars, infidelity, creepy/intimate/delusional/sadistic/possessive whumper(s), noncon touching, noncon kissing, stabbing, implied torture/noncon

“So, how was she?” Dark asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Luther on the couch, both of their pets kneeling next to them.

He had returned from Maryland not even five minutes ago, giving a short greeting to his friend and a heartfelt kiss to his housewife.

“Oh, she was wonderful, Ed. You trained her well,” Luther said with a shit eating grin.

Dark chuckled, pleased that his defiant pet behaved so well for his best friend. Her hands were twisting and pulling the fabric of her dress, but he couldn’t care less at the visible discomfort on her face.

“I’ve noticed she has a few more scars than when I left her, including a brand,” he said in a low voice, face in a scowl once he stared at the designed burn on her right arm.

Luther didn’t look the least bit threatened at his friend’s dangerous tone. “Believe me, it was justified. She made a new friend,” he said in a mocking tone before harshly pulling at his pet’s hair.

Killian gasped as his scalp was pulled, every instinct telling him to sit still, though. His arms had healed fairly well, but the burns on his face would be deeply scarred for a while, if not forever.

“I see he had his own share of punishment as well,” Dark added, looking at the boy’s scarred face and arms.

“Your girl tried to feed him against my permission, then her defiance rubbed off on him. But I had them under my control soon enough,” Harper forced down a whimper as she recalled the horrific week of rape and torture she had spent with the man, who wasn’t sharing even a fraction as he should have with her captor. But she knew better than to say anything.

She then felt hands gripping her chin, taking her out of her thoughts. “Harper, did he touch you at all like the way I do?”

The girl swallowed as she stared at the familiar and possessive look on her captors face, before fearfully glancing over at the man on the couch. Luther’s face was emotionless, but she knew his mind was threatening her if she dared to tell the truth.

The kitty had finally stopped crying, knees tucked up to her chest on the bed. She and the dog, who was still tied to the chair, were staring at each other, regret in the dog’s and anger in the other.

“I’m gonna tell him, as soon as he gets back,” the kitty promised, throat scratchy and raw by the night they had shared together.

The man finished zipping his pants and rolled his eyes, not bothered to talk as he reached down to grab his shirt off the floor.

Kitty painfully sat up, pissed that he wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’m serious. He’s the only one allowed to rape me, he told you-”

Doggy screamed as his shock collar was set off yet again. Master grabbed his hair painfully, forcing him to look at Kitty.

“He. Is. Mine. Like you are Edward’s. Ed can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with you when I’m gone, just like I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with him. No one will care if I kill him, understand? If I even suspect that Edward knows what happened here tonight, and what will continue to happen, your precious little Ian is going to have a long and painful death. Understand?”

Kitty didn’t respond, just let out a small sob and rolled back over on the bed. The man smiled as he let go of the dog’s hair, walking out of the bedroom leaving two broken pets behind.

Harper breathed out, trying to not give away the emotion on her face, for Killian’s sake. “No, just the brand and a few beatings, Master. I was good for him just like you told me to.” It was forced, she knows, but best not to make him angry when he just got back.

Dark smiled, patting her head. “Very good girl. Sorry for the accusation, Lou, you know how I get about my pets.”

Luther laughed. “No worries, Ed. Besides, I would never dream of touching her.”

Killian’s heart dropped as he stared at the girl, watching her try so hard to keep a straight face and not tell what really happened.

All for him.

Dark changed the subject matter quickly. “Anyways, did you hear the news? Helene’s going away to Philadelphia for three weeks.”

Harper looked up confused. Helene? As in Congresswoman Helene McKinley? Beth’s boss?

“Really?” Luther questioned. “She never leaves DC.”

“Had to take care of a personal matter. She ensured the subject will be one of ours soon.”

“Very good. What does that leave you then?”

“I was thinking of taking Harper back to my base again,” Dark started, fingers flowing through his pet's raven hair to keep himself calm. “Possibly my manor, but you know how my gang loves to talk. And with how often Noah comes around, he’ll be sure to share my new pet with Noami. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk to my marriage to take her anywhere but here.”

Luther chuckled. “Noami will never stop running her mouth to Helene if she finds out. ‘Helene did you hear? Your Edward found himself another slut to fuck behind your back! If you don’t murder his ass right now, I will do it for you!’” He finished the imitation with a smile, but Harper couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not when she stared at him.

Dark laughed at the scene, but continued. “Unfortunately, coming here to Delaware constantly prevents me from running my base in DC. I can’t let her be another one of my one-offs, she’s,” the man stopped to grasp her chin again, thumb running over her lip, “Special.”

Luther sat in silence for a moment, then spoke up as if a lightbulb had just casted a light over his head. “How about taking her to my building? The top floor is a private penthouse that I only have access to, with tons of rooms and space for you two to live. You’ll be easily able to travel between your base and there, and I could watch her while you’re gone!”

Watch her while you’re gone. Harper wished she had the nerves to scream her protests against the idea. But in reality, which one is the lesser of two evils? A sadistic man who sees her as nothing but a kitty, or a delusional man who sees her as a housewife that he can kill at any moment?

Dark scratched her chin, pondering the idea. Killian stared blankly ahead, a distant part of him hoping his Master’s idea would work; maybe he could see Harper more.

“You know, Lou, I think I’ll take your deal,” Edward said after a moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?”

Luther waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I barely use it anyways. You can even use it after Helene comes back or for as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Luther,” Dark said with a genuine smile, not the creepy one he always uses on Harper. “I owe you one.”

Luther nodded, scratching his pet's hair one last time before getting up. “Well, I should be getting back. Give me a call when you’re coming, and I’ll be sure to sneak you in.”

Dark got up as well, going out to shake his friend's hand. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Luther. We’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Beth.

Luther shook back with a smile. “Oh, I know. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

I know, Harp. Now come on, we gotta catch the bus to get back home.

How do I get back home to you, Beth?

“Come on, Kill.” Killian rushed to get up, back hunched as he stood next to his master. As Dark walked towards the door to open it for him, Luther quickly turned around towards Harper, his dangerous gaze vastly different from his friendly one just a minute ago.

“If you say anything, I’ll kill him,” Luther whispered, hand gripping Killian’s neck as he raised an eyebrow at Harper.

Harper gave a slight nod, staring at Killian before mouthing, Goodbye, Ian.

The boy swallowed against the tight hold. Goodbye, Harper.

Luther rolled his eyes and pushed the boy towards the door, giving Dark one final goodbye before leaving. The said man closed and locked the door, loosening his tie as he walked back to his pet.

Harper’s instincts were screaming at her to run away from his predatory walk, but she stayed kneeling before her hair was harshly grabbed and she was pulled to her feet. “Oh, darling,” Dark said with a sick smile. ”It’s been so long since I’ve heard you scream.”

The pain on her scalp was relieved just before she was thrown across the room, back hitting the couch before falling to the floor. She shakingly looked up, expecting anger from her captor, but all she saw was lust. The extreme lust to hurt her.

Harper whimpered, lips trembling as she moved back until she hit the TV stand behind her. Why did this have to be her life? She was a good person- she was a detective for God’s sake. She devoted her life to searching for her brother who everyone said was dead. She worked to expose the most dangerous and corrupt people in her city with her best friend. And now she was a fucking pet for one of them, the same man that ruined her life seven years ago.

The girl heaved in before she broke down sobbing, her fight leaving as her reality came crashing down. The previous discussion was two sick men talking about moving her, so no one will know where she is. Or even alive. And if she wasn’t useful to him anymore, she would die.

Dark cooed as he kneeled down, fingers brushing the hair out of her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. You’re just so excited to see me. Don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the time we missed.”

Harper couldn’t even plead for mercy before her vision partially blacked out. Her head erupted in pain as it was slammed into the stand behind her. Through the fog that formed in her vision, she felt herself be laid down on the ground, and a heavy weight be placed on her waist.

She heard a murmur from above her. “Daddy missed his toy.” Dark’s face leaned down, lips trailing her neck. She felt his breath on her face that smelled of tobacco. Then she was forced to listen to her shirt being ripped open.

The man kissed her lips, passionately and with emotion that shouldn’t come from a man like him. His tongue slid in, trailing her gums and teeth and making sure to consume every part of her. Harper suddenly screamed when a knife was plunged into her shoulder, shrills and pleas being drowned out by the kiss as the knife dug deeper into her skin.

Dark pulled back, stomach filling with joy as he saw the tears cover her face, his finger going to trace the wound in blood. He made sure to coat himself in it before touching her face again, smearing her own blood there. He smiled maniacally as Harper’s scream almost shook the room when his thumb dug into the wound, every movement causing her face to contort in unbearable pain.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

“I love you, Evie,” he said before hungrily kissing the girl on the floor again, screams never stopping as she writhed under the man who would never let her go.

---

Nic almost fell off his chair as he heard a knock on his front door. His hair was a mess, eyes sunken and colored due to many sleepless nights, and clothes that had not been changed since five days ago. He scrambled to open it, seeing the familiar blonde and curly hair of the secretary.

“Beth,” Nic said in almost disbelief. From their falling out yesterday, he had figured she wouldn’t want to see him at all. But the girl looked at him with a sudden determination he had not seen the previous day.

“Let’s find Harper and expose these fucking bastards.”

Nic smiled and stepped back to let her in. “After you, Mrs. Carrien.”

[edourado]

Driving on Clouds

It appears that I can simply no longer write. Thank you, anxiety.

This one was written in December, 2018. I was way too insecure to post anything Sense8, so it just sat there on my files until now.

It's short, but hopefully it will help me kick my writing back into gear.

With much, much love.

(Read it on AO3, if you prefer)

___________________________

When Wolfgang walked through the doors, he knew where to go. The doorman was told he was coming.

“Ah, yes, you’re expected”, he said from behind his station. “Go right ahead, sir. It is the penthouse.”

Yes, he knows.

Kala was not there, he knew that, too.

After Paris, they wanted to be together, and they were, in a way. But he had to go back to Berlin before joining them in Bombay.

Will had told him, and so had Riley. Visiting is great, visiting is essential, visiting is like breathing, but physical presence is unbeatable.

Today, though, of all days, she had to be on blockers.

Lito was a mess, both working on his movie and freaking out about it. Nomi was still wrapped up in her honeymoon, so things could get… Distracting. Sun was fighting a whole war of her own back in Seoul, trying to put order to her father’s company, dealing with her criminal brother, her lawyers, the media, politicians, her new relationship, her dog, her training. It was a lot. Capheus was a little bit in over his head with his campaign, he could get both overwhelmed and overwhelming. Will and Riley had a lot of shit to sort out, back in America and Iceland, but they were the easiest ones to deal with. Still, Will needed Kala’s attention often, that pesky heroin habit was not that easy to kick, his body was still recovering.

But she did have a job to do. And if she really wanted to regulate Rasal’s shipping protocols, she needed to focus. So did Rajan.

She had a meeting in the morning, he had one in the afternoon. Wolfgang's flight from Berlin had arrived sometime during lunch hour, and Rajan did send a car to pick him up, but neither he nor Kala were able to be there.

“Let me know when you get here”, she had told him before she took her blocker, sitting by his side on the plane - first class, thank you Rajan - while finishing her make-up before work. “Text me, or something.”

“Seems absurd”, he mused, admiring her figure in the pencil skirt she was wearing. “Having to text you.”

Kala smiled, turning to him after putting her hair in a high ponytail.

“I know. But I have to focus, this is important. I can’t risk having Lito doing his voice exercises while I’m in the middle of trying to convince the board to change their entire business practices. Capheus also has a meeting, can you imagine the mess?”

Wolfgang sat there, looking at her, wishing this flight would land already.

“Or you”, she went on, softer, and he felt his mouth curving in a smile, knowing what she meant. “Popping in without any clothes on.”

“I wouldn’t do that”, he said, lying, because he would.

“Right.”

She leaned in to kiss him and Will was right. It felt good, kissing her when she was not really there, but he had experienced her in the flesh already. He had kissed her for real, and they visited while doing it, that connection was something addicting.

“Hopefully you’ll be here when I’m done”, she said, leaning back to caress his face, all business again.

“Is that Wolfgang?” Rajan asked, walking into the bedroom, looking for something. “Is his flight on time?”

“Yes, it’s on schedule”, she replied, and Wolfgang watched as her husband walked around looking for something, a little frantic, and Kala asked what he needed, and he said he lost his briefcase, and she suggested he looked in the car, and he walked out again, stressed, talking about too many things to do at once.

Wolfgang had stayed with her until she had to walk in for her meeting, kissing her goodbye while she nodded to her assistant that she would be right there.

“See you in three hours.”

Blocker in, connection dissolved, he spent the rest of his flight alone.

Now, he rode the elevator to the penthouse he had never actually been in, but knew every inch of.

Rajan was in his office when he walked in, on the phone, and Wolfgang didn’t understand the language he spoke - another downside of not having the connection with Kala.

He looked serious when he looked up and saw him. Wolfgang dropped the bag from his shoulder and sat on the chair in front of the desk, frowning while Rajan seemed to argue with the person on the other end of the line.

“Everything ok?” He asked when the man hung up, a sigh escaping him.

Rajan got up, rubbing his hands on his face, and Wolfgang got up, too.

“Fine, yes. This Ajay thing, it’s more difficult than I anticipated. But no matter. How was your flight?”

A lot had happened in Paris. A lot. The hug they shared seemed, at the same time, appropriate and out of place.

“Kala wanted to know when you arrived right away.”

Wolfgang nodded, and explained. “My phone died.”

Rajan walked them to the living room, to pour them a drink before he needed to leave.

“She is still in her meeting, anyway.”

They sat and talked about life, normal things, Felix and Fuchs and Berlin and the kingdoms. Rajan told him what he could about the investigation, his worries and reservations, and shared the part he didn’t burden Kala with, about feeling anxious about their - and especially her - safety.

“If I can help…” Wolfgang offered, not sure if he could, but willing to, anyway. Rajan smiled, not quite cold but not as warm as he normally did. Worried. He looked a bit thinner, and had bags under his eyes.

“Make yourself at home”, he said, getting up to go to work. “You must be very tired. Rest, eat something. She will be here before me.”

Wolfgang nodded and reached his arm out to grab Rajan by the front of his shirt, pulling him down until they were, quite literally, face to face.

Wolfgang understood that this was all very new to Rajan still. Including this level of intimacy with another man - even after Paris. So the kiss he collected was a chaste one. Slow, careful, a touch of lips, nothing more.

Sure enough, Rajan blinked at him when he let him go, but smiled, a bit awkward, but sincere.

“We’ll all have dinner, yes?”

Nodding, Wolfgang let him go and watched as Kala’s husband walked away.

Alone in the apartment, he looked at his watch: one, maybe two hours until she was here.

.:.

The blocker wore off while she was in the car, and she helped Capheus with his tie, updating him on the progress she was making with the company and the shipment policies. She wished him good luck with his own meeting, and then she was alone with her driver again.

“Hello, my wife” Rajan had greeted her when she walked into her office and found him waiting for her. They talked about work for a few minutes, because she didn’t want to immediately ask what she wanted to ask. But he could read it on her face.

“He is here”, he said. “His phone died, that’s why you didn’t get a text message. But he is waiting for you.”

She kissed him before she hurried out, grateful all over again for how incredible he was being about this.

Ganesha had not failed her. Her husband was, truly, a gift.

She felt the water around her when she crossed the threshold. He was swimming, and she should have guessed that was where she was going to find him.

That pool was, after all, for him. Always has been, her decision to get his place more than a little influenced by it.

Still. Seeing him actually here, even if he had visited it so many times before, was incredible.

Kala watched as he did his laps, the afternoon sun glowing against the water.

His wet fingers caressed her arms while she watched him swim, and she took her shoes off before stepping to the edge of the pool, his lips on her face as he swam back to her.

Her skirt soaked quickly when she sat down, her legs in the water, and Kala wanted to sigh in happiness when his hands, his actual hands, touched her calves, fingers running up to her knees and caressing her thighs.

He was here, she could touch him, and she did, but they visited, and that connection ran through them like electricity and honey, alive, a current of presence that threatened to lift her up into the air.

Her fingers in his face were his on her own, running up to his hair, her hair, her fingers, his fingers, his face, hers, they’re here.

They’re here.

Wolfgang pulled her into the pool with him, and she giggled and he smiled, her clothes soaking, neither of them caring.

She was all wrapped around him, finally, she felt she could breathe again,

“I missed you”, she said against his lips while he gently pulled her hair tie off, and Kala was honestly losing track if it was his hand or her hand doing it.

Who cares, at this point.

“Me too”, he said before kissing her, finally, open and soft and hungry and devoted, a few weeks without him and she had been left yearning, even if hardly one night went by without him in her bed - Rajan couldn’t possibly know how many times he was actually kissing him instead of her, no matter how honest she tried to be and how hard she tried to explain.

He removed her clothes and they sat by the edge of the pool, soaked, and they were alone while he explored her and she clung to him in the water, thank goodness. This was their moment, and she wanted it to be just for them.

After lunch, however, they were in bed and he had told her he liked the wind coming in through the window, he was on top of her and she had her legs around him, and then there were four people, two in Bombay and two in Chicago, four people that understood the connection between two sensates in love within their cluster, she felt Riley’s lips and Will’s hands, Wolfgang, Wolfgang, Wolfgang, two places at once, four people, lips on her neck, the echo of a kiss that followed the real thing, his tongue against hers, his hand pressing so hard on her hip, she had missed him so much, Wolfgang, she would never go back, she would never give this up, she would never let go of him, Wolfgang-

Thank God for gravity.

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Ceremony (Smugglers, Part 5)

Hello everyone! I am so excited to finally be posting Part 5 of The Smugglers Series! I am so sorry to keep everyone waiting for so long, but I really had a creative stump when it came to continuing this, but I finally figured out the structure. This will be the fifth installment of this seven-part series, the next parts will center around their honeymoon and the Battle of Hogwarts. 

This piece is extremely long and I tried to shorten it, but after all the waiting the fans of the series have done, I couldn’t bear to leave anything out. I started writing Smugglers on a whim about two years ago after reading a Tumblr post and I cannot believe how much this story and this blog have grown. I owe you guys everything and I cannot wait to keep putting out work. I apologize for the long wait, but I went through a painful writer’s block regarding this story and I am happy to be releasing it.

Smugglers Series: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Taglist: @a-sweet-little-fangirl | @homowillraise | @fanfable

Just in case anyone was interested (and for my own visualizations sake) I compiled a picture of the wedding, maid-of-honor, and bridesmaids’ dresses, along with pictures of the various bouquets written in the story. If you guys would like to see them, please let me know! 

Anyways, enjoy the long-awaited continuation of “Smugglers: A Charlie Weasley Fanfiction”

Romania. November 30th, 1994.

The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was home to an array of dangerous species. The dragons held there ranged from both manageable and potentially deadly. But amidst the potential dangers, foul-smelling cages, and bitter weather, a certain couple spent their final month before they finally moved back to their shared home in Scotland. 

Charlie Weasley, renowned Dragonologist, and fidgety husband to be proposed to master Gringotts Curse-Breaker (Y/N) (L/N) during the 1994 Quidditch World Cup surrounded by their family and friends. Encouraged by the outbreak after the cup and the realization that war could break out at any moment, the two worked quickly to organize and finalize their wedding. 

But before going forth with their wedding, Charlie and (Y/N) were finishing up their tasks at the Sanctuary. The workers had safely transported the four dragons utilized in the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament back to Romania and they all settled comfortably into their respective nests. Luckily for (Y/N), her last mission reeled in far more gold than the Goblins had expected, and granted her some time off, which she gladly took to spend some time with her fiancé. She was truly enjoying her time at the Sanctuary, although she never encountered dragons while on her trips, she hoped that the information she learned from Charlie and his colleagues would prove useful in the long run. Charlie, on the other hand, spent his early mornings caring for the newly hatched Peruvian Vipertooths and his afternoons patrolling the grounds ensuring the dragons were safely secured for the night. Ever since his departure from Hogwarts, Charlie had spent most of his time studying the various dragon species held at the Sanctuary. During his stint there, however, he had never witnessed the ferocity of baby Vipertooths. 

The nonnative Vipertooths were having a difficult time adjusting to the brutal cold of the Romanian countryside and Charlie worked day and night to ensure they survived. Although quite small, the dragons posed a large threat to whoever handled them due to their poisonous bites and their intense, unsatisfiable craving for human flesh which Charlie – charmed by their adorability – almost fell victim to them the first couple of days they were in his care. 

The Sanctuary workers were in full swing, carefully preparing for the upcoming blizzard. Steady tents erupted near the dragon nests and each worker was tasked with creating protective barriers around them to protect any of the eggs and their mothers.

Back on Ridgebit Rock, (Y/N) trudged through the snow with a clipboard in hand and studying the contents of the wooden crates lined up along the center. Charlie pulled the collar of his jumper higher, hiding the lower half of his face in the turtleneck as he called out numbers to his fiancée. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the hectic environment and considered the sanctuary a second home so she couldn’t help feeling nostalgic as they finished up the final task. 

She looked around the surrounding forest, closing her eyes and breathing in the crisp cold air, shivering as a gust of wind blew past them. “I’m going to miss this,” she spoke up, clutching the board close to her chest, “You’ve spent so much time here, it feels bittersweet to leave it behind…” She understood that to grow, one must move on, but it was unusual to have their time at the sanctuary come to an end. 

“Me too,” replied Charlie, gazing towards the heated tent that held the small Vipertooths, “I wonder if the Dragons will remember us when we’re gone...” (Y/N) giggled, cut off by a sneeze as another gust of wind blew through the forest. Charlie glanced over at his fiancée, his heart swelling at the tinge of red that spread across her nose and cheeks. “You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked while (Y/N) blew hot air into her gloves, attempting to cover her reddening nose.

Charlie smiled sweetly, removing his scarf, and wrapping it around her to shield her from the cold breeze. He gazed at her face with admiration, running his thumb across her cold cheek as she leaned into his gloved hand. 

“A little,” She admitted, setting down her clipboard and quill and slipping her hand into Charlie’s with ease, “But, I hope they remember us,” responding to his earlier statement while gazing over the hill where some of the dragons were kept, “They’ll be taken care of here and we can always come to visit.” (Y/N) grinned, squeezing her fiancé’s hand, “I’m sure they’d love to have their best Dragonologist back, not to mention their most handsome one.” 

Charlie hummed in satisfaction, “You’re absolutely right,” He replied, pulling her in for a tight hug and pressing a kiss against her cheek, “We’ve done a lot here and I never properly thanked you for staying by my side” He muttered, his fingers playing with her hair as they embraced. 

“And why wouldn’t I, Mr. Weasley?” (Y/N) teased, “After all, we said ‘til the end of the line our fourth year, remember?” 

All the adventures, family outings, dangerous vault discoveries, and, of course, all the travels that helped them grow as a couple. The two had spent years together, watching each other go through the awkward stages of adolescence and all the hardships that came along with it. From the moment they met, they had each other’s back and although that fact did not need to be confirmed by a ceremony, they knew it was the next big step in their relationship. 

“And soon we’ll be saying, til death do us part” Charlie added sweetly, pulling her scarf down and quickly stealing a kiss from her.  (Y/N) smiled against Charlie’s kiss, placing her gloved hands on his cheeks, and pulling him in before pulling herself away from his grip, “But we need to finish taking inventory” she joked, picking up her clipboard from the crate and tapping her quill against it. 

“Always so determined,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he attempted to pull her back into his grip and laughing as she ran down the snow, “Let's finish up so we can head home” Charlie smiled, catching up to her and pulling her along the Sanctuary. 

Scotland. November 30th, 1994. 

The warmth of their home quickly enveloped them as they stepped out of the fireplace, the green flames dying down at their feet. Although it was still rather chilly outside, it was nothing compared to the weather in Romania. 

The two walked around the ground floor of their home, hanging up their coats and scarves in the entrance closet. Their usually tidy home had papers scattered over the countertop, along with different types of flowers, silverware, envelopes filled with wedding invitations, and other materials necessary for their preparations. 

(Y/N) sighed at the mess they left behind. Planning a wedding proved to be more difficult than breaking curses at Hogwarts, and she always worried she would miss something essential while they prepared. 

She rounded the kitchen counter, sorting the letters the owls had deposited at their house while they were away. Their wedding date was approaching fast, and the thought of their big day eased her worries but amplified them simultaneously. 

(Y/N) tore open one of the letters, her eyes scanning over the neat cursive with a subtle smile on her face. 

Dear Cursebreaker, 

(Y/N) Selwyn, I wanted to reaffirm how honored I am to hold the position as stylist for this special occasion. I’m sure you’ll recall our previous correspondence where I told you not to stress about any of the fashion choices for your wedding. But knowing you, you’ve spent hours tearing through magazines trying to find the perfect wedding dress and bridesmaids’ dresses.

But I am a man of my word and I intend to provide one of my best friends an eye-catching gown with bridesmaids’ dresses to match. I have enclosed the finalized – and colorized – sketches of your wedding gown and the dresses the girls will be wearing. I’ve included three options for your dress and two for the bridesmaids’ dresses. You’ve never mentioned a maid of honor, but I designed a variant just in case you picked one without informing me. 

Write to me as soon as possible so I can finalize the preparations. If all goes accordingly, your dress should be finalized before Christmas. 

I hope you’re intending on wearing a tiara, I think it would tie everything together and I included them in the drawings so you could visualize it. In all honesty, I truly think this is my best work as your style-Wizard and I expect some well-deserved credit at your reception. 

All jokes aside, take a look at the dresses and send me your response, along with the measurements of your selected maid of honor and bridesmaids. Also, tell Charlie to write back as soon as possible. I sent him his dress robes options ages ago and he hasn’t sent a letter back, I should honestly charge him for it. 

That was another joke, I’m not taking any form of payment from either of you. That’s final so don’t even try to debate me on that. 

I can’t believe you two are finally getting married. You don’t know how long everyone has been thinking about this day, I can’t wait to see everyone. 

I hope you and Charlie are well.

Best Regards, 

Your friend and best style wizard in all of Europe, 

Andre Egwu

(Y/N) reached into the envelope and pulled out several pieces of parchment, each containing intricately painted dress designs in various shades of white, silver, and gold with a thin red sash tied around the waist. She smiled brightly at the letter and tucked the contents back in the envelope, setting it in the bin labeled “important” to remind herself to take a better look at them tomorrow morning. 

She turned back towards the kitchen countertop, gathering the letters from Gringotts, as well as notices from the Ministry of Magic, and sorting them into their respective piles. Charlie came out of the entrance closet where he stashed his dragon-hyde boots and the rest of his fireproof gear to the sound of the rustling of papers. Shaking his head, he turned into the kitchen with a faint smile. 

Even after all their hard work in Romania, she still managed to find another task to keep herself occupied. 

“I don’t think so,” Charlie uttered, pulling (Y/N) away from the mess, and gently pushing her against the kitchen wall. Charlie admired her beauty once more, placing his calloused hand on her waist, “You’ve been working all day, I’ll be damned if I see you cleaning this late” He spoke, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“Charlie,” whined (Y/N), crossing her arms with a pout when her fiancé caged her in, “You know we’re behind on preparations,” she explained, placing her hands on his shoulders, and massaging them gently, “And you haven’t replied to Andre, he’s growing rather tense and so are you, it seems.” He caught himself admiring her once again, admiring how easy it was for her to read him. Charlie thought back to their years at Hogwarts and those moments where she would bring him exactly what he was craving for dinner or when she silently comforted him, even though he had not spoken about what bothered him. And even though he immediately eased up under her touch, his goal to keep her relaxed was unshakable. 

“You, my love,” hummed Charlie, running his thumb against the apples of her cheeks, “Are going to take a nice, warm bath while I make you dinner.” (Y/N) smiled up at Charlie lovingly, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her face in his broad chest, “What if I want you in the bath with me?” She asked playfully, her hands sliding down his waist and into the back pockets of his work trousers. 

Charlie chuckled darkly, his hands sliding towards the back of her thighs and lifting her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his hips, “Who am I to deny the lady what she wants?” boasted Charlie, tightly gripping the back of her thighs, and leaning his lips close to hers. 

“Such a gentleman,” (Y/N) muttered breathily, her hands gliding through Charlie’s and her nose brushing against his. Her soft lips brushed delicately against his, close enough so he could inhale her breath and feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Charlie’s heart pounded harshly against his chest; the feeling of her lips so close yet so far sending a subtle shiver down his spine. Understanding why she paused, Charlie closed the gap between them, his lips perfectly molding against hers and she swore she felt time stop. 

It did not matter how many times they shared a kiss, it still felt like that moment on the Quidditch Pitch. That moment when Charlie pushed through the crowds of cheering Gryffindors, the house cup forgotten in the hands of another team member, to pull her in for an electrifying kiss, one that set the course of their loving relationship. (Y/N) was so captivated by their kiss that she did not notice when Charlie expertly moved up the stairs and towards the master bathroom. 

It wasn’t until he set her down on the bathroom sink that she opened her eyes, laughing wholeheartedly as Charlie bent down to open the warm water, his endearing chuckle echoing through the bathroom. 

“You’re quite sneaky, aren’t you?” questioned (Y/N) teasingly, hopping off the countertop and making her way towards Charlie, her cold hands sliding underneath his long-sleeve making him jump. 

“And what does that make you?” He retorted flirtatiously and gripping her wrists, pulling her against his chest, his hand trailing down to the side of her neck. 

“Hm, a demiguise, maybe?” She asked innocently, her eyes shifting upwards in mock pondering and Charlie rolled his impatiently, tugging the hem of her jumper and slipping it off her body. 

“Of course, how could I have missed that? The long hair honestly seals the deal. Although…” He trailed off, his eyes scanning her bare torso and sneaking a hand behind her, his fingers drumming towards the clasp of her bra, “I’ve only ever seen your eyes light up like that when your squirming underneath me–” 

“Charlie!” (Y/N) exclaimed, gaping open mouthed at the blushing red-head and failing to catch her bra as it slipped down her front. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her exposed breasts, and slid past her fiancée, “Enough playing around,” she stated firmly, turning her back towards him and unbuttoning her trousers, letting her panties fall on the floor with them and sliding into the warm water, “Get in before I change my mind” She grinned, splashing a handful of water across his chest. 

Charlie scoffed, but pulled off his shirt by the neck, almost tripping over his trousers as he tugged them off with urgency, “Alright, alright! I surrender!” With that, he sunk behind (Y/N), pulling her against his chest and peppering kisses against her cheek. 

The Burrow. December 5th, 1994.

“Oh, my dear!” Cried Mrs. Weasley, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as (Y/N) turned in her wedding dress. Andre Egwu stood behind her, proudly gazing and his handiwork and twisting the red sash so the diamond snowflake brooch sat comfortably on the left. 

“Come on,” Andre crooned, “tell me I’m a genius” he prodded with a smirk, stepping back to stand beside Mrs. Weasley with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but turned to admire herself in the mirror, “I’m going to have to admit it this time,” she acknowledged, looking back at the satin train of her A-line gown, the tails of her red bow falling shorter than it, “You truly have outdone yourself, Andre. I really can’t thank you enough” 

Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her apron, sniffling as (Y/N) spoke, “You look radiant, (Y/N)! Charlie is going to faint when he sees you,” she beamed and walked to her, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

“But I still think you’re missing something,” Andre chimed in, drumming his fingers against the old brown box sitting on the bedroom dresser, “Like we discussed, Mrs. Weasley?” He added and (Y/N) raised a questioning eyebrow as Mrs. Weasley scurried to the desk and opened the box, shielding its contents from the soon to be bride. 

“It was Auntie Tessie’s wedding tiara,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up, beaming as she faced (Y/N), the sparkling headpiece held delicately in her hands. 

(Y/N)’s jaw almost hit the floor. Of course, she had expected Mrs. Weasley to pull out all the stops for their wedding, but she never thought she’d be hiding such a luxurious piece. 

“Mrs. Weasley– You can’t mean–,” stuttered (Y/N), shaking her head vigorously and her eyes jumping from Andre’s grinning face to Mrs. Weasley’s loving smile. 

“I do, dear,” she reassured, beckoning for her to come closer, “Andre sent me the letter when you picked your wedding dress! Of course, he didn’t know I would have the perfect piece to tie everything together, but Auntie Tessie left this behind when she passed and she especially fond of Charlie,” she began to explain, gazing down at the tiara and turning it to set it on (Y/N)’s head, “She wanted his future wife to wear it down the aisle. If that’s alright with you, of course.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the mirror once again, but this time focusing on the five sparkling rubies in the crystal tiara, “I don’t know what to say,” she forced out, overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of herself in a wedding dress, “And, yes. I want to wear this tiara, are you having a laugh?!” She exclaimed excitedly, tears welling up in her eyes as she threw her arms around her future mother-in-law, “You’ve been nothing, but kind to me all these years. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” 

“My dear,” sniffled Mrs. Weasley, “How many times must I tell you? Charlie is the happiest I’ve ever seen him and that is all because of you, (Y/N)” she explained honestly, her hand rubbing up and down her back as they embraced, “All these years, he’s only spoken about you. How you make him feel and how important you are to him.” 

“Mrs. Weasley–”

“I think it’s high time you started calling me Molly, dear” interrupted Mrs. Weasley, pulling out of her embrace and holding (Y/N)’s shoulders tightly, “You’re going to make a wonderful bride, my darling” 

(Y/N) let out a small sob, her arms wrapping around her fiancé’s mother once again, “Thank you, Molly” she whispered, wiping her tears away and smiling down at her as tears streamed down both their faces. 

“I hate to interrupt,” Andre chimed in from behind them, the grin still evident on his face, “but I think we should get (Y/N) out of that dress before Charlie ruins the surprise.” 

The women nodded in agreement and (Y/N) removed the tiara, handing it to Molly, who returned it to its velvety cushioned box. 

“I’m going to go work on dinner, I’ll see the two of you down there in a bit,” She announced happily, exiting the room and descending the stairs to her kitchen. 

“Andre–” (Y/N) started, holding her friend by the elbows, “I have to find some way to repay you. After all these years– I mean, you made my first date outfit for Godric’s sake and you’ve never let me pay you once–”

“And I never will.” he retorted defiantly, “Your friendship is far more precious than some stupid galleons,” Explained Andre, placing his hand on her cheek, “You helped me find my passion in fashion design, you and McNully taught me how to become the best Keeper Ravenclaw house had ever seen and,” he paused, shifting around so she could look at herself in the mirror, “even though we’re not at school, you invite me to all your adventures and Ministry events. You and Charlie have given me so much and you don’t even realize it.” 

Andre took a step back, holding (Y/N)’s hands in admiration, “You deserve the very best on your wedding day, and so does Charlie. I’m just glad I’ve been along for the ride, but if you’re so adamant of repaying me,” he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Save me a dance the day of your wedding, that’s all I ask for.” 

The waterworks came once again, (Y/N) let out a small sob as she threw her arms around her long-term friend, “Of course, Andre,” she agreed, her voice wavering while they embraced, “Thank you so much for everything.” 

Andre smiled, his hand resting at the back of her head, “Anytime, Cursebreaker.” He muttered, “But we should get you out of that dress, I need to fix Charlie’s dress robes before dinner.” 

(Y/N) nodded in agreement and stepped out of his grasp, watching Andre head towards the door, “Make sure he doesn’t look better than me!” She joked as the door opened and Andre let out a hearty chuckle. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” He shot her a wink and slipped out of the room, the door closing gently behind him and his voice booming down the stairs while he yelled for Charlie. 

(Y/N) laughed when she heard Charlie’s startled yell and the door to his bedroom slamming open. Her hands slid down the soft satin of her dress, the rhinestone straps glinting as the sunset over the horizon and the ghost of a smile decorating her relaxed features. 

“Only a month away,” she thought joyfully and hung up the dress in its black garment bag before joining Molly in the kitchen. 

Scotland. January 5th, 1995. 

Wedding preparations were in full swing at the home of Charlie Weasley and (Y/N) Selwyn. The family of the bride and groom ran up and down the house, folding the seating arrangements and fixing any stray flower bouquets that remained in the kitchen. 

“George!” Bellowed Mrs. Weasley as he and Fred slid down the bannister, their ties around their heads and vests unbuttoned, “You two better straighten up before the guests arrive!” 

“Molly dear,” Mr. Weasley spoke up from behind her, his hands running down her arms soothingly, “They’re just excited, I’m sure they’ll settle down soon” 

Mrs. Weasley placed her hand over her husband’s while the other soothed the velvet of her elegant green dress, “I’m sure you’re right, Arthur. I just want everything to be perfect for Charlie and (Y/N)’s special day.” 

“I know, Mollywobbles,” he muttered, pressing a kiss against his wife’s forehead as she blushes furiously, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

“Come now, Arthur,” she urged, but unable to fight the smile that formed on her face, “Let us go finish up the tent” 

Outside stood Charlie, running up and down the wedding tent, yelling orders to his younger brothers who had, apparently, never seen this side of Charlie before. 

“No–! Percy!” He groaned, straightening the ribbon against the back of it, “Over and under, like this!” Charlie twisted the ribbon, leaving a delicate bow to decorate the pearl white chairs. 

“I am perfectly capable of tying a ribbon, Charles.” declared Percy pompously, demonstrating his bow-tying skills on the next chair, but struggling a little more than Charlie had. 

Charlie let out a small sigh, adjusting his tie and the lapels of his red and black dress robes, “I know,” he admitted solemnly, “I just want everything to be perfect, (Y/N)’s spent so long planning this–” 

“Don’t worry,” Percy interjected, “With William and I here, everything is bound to go smoothly.” He grinned, placing his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “We’re the most responsible and we’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, for you and (Y/N)” 

Charlie sighed, but this time out of relief, his arms wrapping tightly around Percy, “Thank you for being here, Perce. I know it wasn’t easy to get time off.” 

Percy let out a small scoff, “You think I would miss my brother’s wedding? Mr. Crouch’s cauldron bottoms can wait until after the ceremony, even though it’s rather painful to put off my work for this long.” 

Charlie fought back the urge to ruffle his brother’s hair, “When did you get so grown up?” He asked playfully, “I still remember you killing spiders for Ronnie.” 

Percy rolled his eyes at his remark, but smiled nonetheless, “We all grow up eventually, Charlie. Just look at today, I could not be prouder of you and I know Mum and Dad are too.”

Charlie thanked Percy with another hug, but their moment was interrupted by Bill, who was waving his wand towards the marital archway, making light silvery roses appear in between the bright red ones, “Oi! Guests are arriving in twenty minutes, we’ve got time for friendly chats later, but we really need to get everything together before they apparate!”

Percy nodded in agreement, striding down the silver carpet and clearing out a path through the snow, raising another set of tents from the entrance of their house towards the wedding tent. Charlie joined his brother near the archway, clapping him on the shoulder and waving his wand so the rest of the flowers appeared on top of the seat ribbons. 

A gaggle of women hid inside the master bedroom on the second story of their home, a half-empty champagne bottle resting on the vanity with six empty glasses surrounding it. Six girls stood around the bedroom window, gazing down at the boys in the garden with wide grins, “This dress is quite beautiful!” exclaimed Rowan Khanna, turning to examine herself in the mirror, “Andre truly has outdone himself!” Her dress was slightly different than the other girls. It was still made out of the same silver fabric as the other ones, but her’s contained an array of silver crystals covering the left side of the bodice while a ruched one-shoulder sleeve came up and around her right shoulder 

“I agree,” chimed in Penny Haywood, twirling around in her floor-length silver dress, “I can’t believe the day is finally here!” she squealed. Her dress also contained a ruched one-shoulder strap but lacked the bodice crystals in favor of a criss-cross fabric belt around her dress, “Tonks! Stop messing with it!” 

Nymphadora Tonks shifted in her seat as Penny attempted to soothe her bright pink hair, which she had grown out to shoulder length for the occasion, “It looks too neat!” complained Tonks, ruffling her unnaturally straight hair, and curling the bottoms of it with her wand. Tonks and Tulip were wearing the second variation of Andre’s dress, it contained the same details as the others, the only difference being the two straps in contrast to the one-shoulder Penny and Merula wore. 

“I think it looks quite nice,” muttered Merula Snyde, gazing at her straightened hair, “Don’t you think this color brings out my eyes?” She asked absentmindedly, her hands running over the chiffon gown.

“Oh, please” groaned Tulip Karasu with a grin, “That’s what you said during the Celestial Ball!” 

Merula glared towards Tulip, “And was I wrong?” she asked, throwing one of the satin dressing gowns they wore while getting ready. The two girls broke out in a fit of laughter, launching the dressing robes at each other and dodging them swiftly and the other bridesmaids joining in until the sound of the bathroom door opening caught their attention. 

“Merlin’s beard,” gasped Rowan at the sight of her best friend standing underneath the doorway, an angelic glow radiating off her, “(Y/N), you look–”

“Breathtaking,” finished Merula, her lips curling into a devious smile, “Weasley is going to lose his mind when he sees you.” 

Penny nodded in agreement, rushing to (Y/N)’s side and taking her by the hand, “I promised you I wouldn’t cry, but I honestly think I am going to break down during the ceremony.” admitted Penny, and the other girls joined her around the bride. 

“You guys,” (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, gazing around her friends, and pulling them all in for a messy group hug, “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she admitted, a sniffle resonating through the room as she pulled back, “And you’re all here, what more could I ask for?”

“How ‘bout a sack of galleons from your boss at Gringotts?” joked Merula, slapping (Y/N)’s arms and laughing along with the rest of the girls. Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) returned Merula’s slap with one of her own and stepped towards the vanity table to add the finishing touches to her hair. 

“Oh! Let me help you,” exclaimed Rowan, rushing behind (Y/N) and picking her wand up from the table, “I’ve spent hours reading hair-spell books, I want to be the world’s best Maid of Honor!” She ran her fingers delicately through the curls of (Y/N)’s hair, waving her wand and uttering an incantation so a thin stream of hairspray sprayed out of the tip. Unlike ordinary hairspray, this magical substance would ensure the curls stayed intact even if she stood in a hurricane zone. 

(Y/N) smiled at Rowan through the mirror, fighting back the tears that were welling up in her eyes, “Rowan, I’m so glad you’re here, I still remember when we first met and the wonderful scarf I picked out for you” 

Rowan laughed as she sprayed another curl in place, “I still have that scarf, it was approved by Andre and everything so you should start calling yourself a style-wizard as well.” As the two best friends reminisced, Penny and Tonks were opening the brown-leather box, gaping at the tiara with admiration and carefully wiping it with polish to amplify its shine. 

“Some guests are arriving,” Tulip announced, looking out the window with Merula, the two of them craning their necks to see the small group pass through the snow led by Percy and Molly Weasley who bore wide grins. 

In the sitting room, the groom and his groomsmen gathered around the kitchen island, six glasses of firewhiskey resting on the countertop, “No, I-I really shouldn’t” Charlie pleaded, raising his hand out to block the shot glass his best-man, Andre, was forcing into his grasp. 

“Just one!” urged Andre, wiggling the glass in front of him as Bill and Barnaby raised their own in celebration, “(Y/N)’s had her champagne! I saw the glass, I promise!”

“I’m even having one, Charlie!” added Ben Copper, raising his glass to meet Barnaby and Bill, earning a laugh from Jacob Selwyn as he rounded the corner of the island, his own shot glass in hand.

“Charlie, I know you and my baby-sis talked about it and in all honesty, mate…” started Jacob, his eyes scanning Charlie’s tense behavior, “You need to loosen up a little, I saw you yelling at chair ribbons before the guests arrived.” 

The groomsmen laughed, earning a small scoff of amusement from Charlie, “Alright, alright!” He boomed, snatching the glass from Andre, and raising it into the circle with the rest of his men, “But I’m making you all take three at the reception!” 

“That’s fine by me!” cheered Barnaby Lee, “We don’t have drinks at work; they’re all a bunch of prats really” he jested, gazing at the firewhiskey bottle longingly, “I’ll do however many you want!” 

“Enough talking! To Charlie and (Y/N)!” bellowed Bill Weasley, flashing a toothy smile while Jacob patted Charlie’s back encouragingly. Jacob’s relationship with (Y/N) had strengthened significantly as years passed and although he loved having a younger sister, a part of him always wanted a brother. And, after months of getting to know him, finally found one in Charlie. 

The groom and his groomsmen down their shots, slamming the decorative glasses down on the countertop and filing out of the house, excitedly patting Charlie on the back as they urged him out the front door. Several minutes later, the girls, in their matching silver dresses, came down the stairs excitedly waving their red and white bouquets. 

(Y/N) came down the stairs, her dress and veil trailing behind her as she gripped the banister, her other hand carrying her much larger bouquet which contained a set of additional black roses mixed in with the red and white ones to match with Charlie’s robes. With the guests settled in their seats, Jacob ran back into the house and past the curtains dividing the tent connected to the front door. 

“Look at you...” He gaped, his eyes wide in admiration when he finally caught sight of his little sister in her wedding gown, the sparkling tiara sitting perfectly atop her head, “I wish Mum and Dad could see you.” added Jacob in a whisper, reaching for her hands and smiling softly as their eyes met. 

“Me too,” added (Y/N) earnestly, “We’ll visit their grave before the honeymoon, it’s not much, but it’s the least we can do.” She proposed and Jacob nodded in agreement, squeezing his sister’s hands while she spoke. 

“I’ll tell you this, though,” chuckled Jacob, sneakily glancing out the tent as the music started, “I’m surprised Charlie isn’t sweating bullets, he looks more nervous than that time he asked for my permission.” The two siblings broke out in a fit of laughter, heading closer to the door as, unbeknownst to them, the wizard officiant began making his way down the decorated aisle, waving happily at the guests. 

“It’s almost time,” muttered (Y/N), butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they stood behind the icicle wedding curtains, “Oh my god, I’m getting married.” She could feel the nerves overcoming her excitement, a small lump forming in her throat as she worried about the many things that could go wrong, one being tripping down the aisle. 

“Hey,” Jacob spoke out, turning her by the shoulders while Charlie and Andre strode confidently down the aisle, the soft violin accompanying them as the sound of cheering whistles followed after them. “You, my dear sister, have dealt with cursed ice, magical ciphers, loony and manipulative professors, and  – not to mention –  spent the last few months taking care of hordes of dragons. The most dangerous creatures, according to the Ministry registry,” He explained comfortingly, his hands running down the side of her arms, “I think you can walk down this aisle and meet the man you love, and more importantly, who loves you without anything to worry about.” 

(Y/N) bit her lip at her brother’s words, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Jacob,” her voice wavering, “Thank you so much.” 

Jacob rubbed her back comfortingly, looking over her shoulder to see the bridesmaids making their way towards the archway, “Anytime, baby sister. Anytime.” 

“But” he added, pulling away from their hug and grabbing the first layer of her veil, pulling it over her face with a gentle smile, “I think Rowan is about to walk down and the only tears I want to see are Charlie’s.” Pressing a kiss against her cheek, Jacob turned his sister towards the curtain, bright smiles pulling at their lips. 

Charlie stood nervously at the archway, conspicuously twiddling his fingers as the song changed and the icicle curtains were pulled open by an unseen force of magic. At the sound of the change, Charlie looked up and as soon as he met (Y/N)’s gentle expression, all his worries slipped away, and his mind blocked out everyone else at the venue. 

He wanted to burn the image of (Y/N) in her stunning white dress into his memory. A sight he had been dreaming of since their one-year anniversary, one that surpassed the vision of her during their first date or the ones of her during the Celestial Ball. As she was led down the aisle by Jacob, Charlie made a mental note to thank Andre with the largest slice of cake or some-kind of present because this was, honestly, the perfect gown for (Y/N). 

The dazzling white pleated crisscross sweetheart neck bodice fit perfectly, the red sash around her middle accentuating her waist most breathtakingly. The small snowflake brooch on the left side of her sash sparkled brilliantly, matching perfectly with the delicate rhinestone straps that fell delicately over her shoulders. His eyes trailed upwards, his grin faltering at the sight of Great Auntie Tessie’s tiara underneath (Y/N)’s veil and he finally took notice of the tears that spilled out of his eyes. He hastily wiped them away, stepping down towards the carpet to meet (Y/N) and Jacob a few meters from the archway. Charlie grasped Jacob’s hand tightly, giving it a stern shake before taking (Y/N)’s hand delicately into his own, leading her in front of the officiant. 

Charlie held both of her hands, looking her over and sighing in amazement as he pulled the veil back, exposing her flushed face and the dazzling tiara, “You look–” He breathed out, unable to find an appropriate word to describe how incredibly gorgeous she looked.

“Breathtaking?” She finished with a mischievous gaze and placed a kiss against Charlie’s cheek who blushed furiously as they turned towards the officiant. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the sing-song voice of the officiant who raised his arms in acknowledgment to the couple as a collective silence fell over the crowd, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two beautiful faithful souls.” 

The wedding guests watched avidly, some moving towards the edge of their seats with intricate handkerchiefs as the couple turned sideways, their hands intertwined. 

“Do you Charles Septimus Weasley, take (Y/N) Selwyn to live together in marriage? to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor her? to love her faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with her this day?” 

Charlie was nodding eagerly before the officiant had even finished his spiel, tears streaming down his face but an unwavering smile decorating his freckled face, “I do. More than anything in the world.” 

(Y/N) beamed back at him, squeezing his hands tightly and releasing them momentarily so Charlie could slip the wedding band onto her finger. The officiant turned towards (Y/N), the smile on his face widening as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Do you, (Y/N) Selwyn take Charles Septimus Weasley…” the words floated away from (Y/N)’s mind, she registered the officiant speaking but she could only focus on the man in front of her and how his hands felt in hers. The way his dress robes fit perfectly and how they brought out the color of his bright green eyes. She felt her hand moving on its own to grip the golden band and the words, “I do” sliding past her lips and she recalled it being the easiest phrase she ever had to say in her life. 

The two of them did not register the happy sobs of Mrs. Weasley in the front row or the audible sniffles of Barnaby, Penny, and Rowan beside them. They even blocked out the loud trumpeting noises at the back of the wedding venue that undoubtedly came from Hagrid with Professor McGonagall dabbing her eyes an aura of dignity by his side.

The two of them only returned to the present moment when the officiant uttered the words, “Then I declare you, bonded for life.” With that, a stream of glittering snowflakes came out from the tip of the officiant’s wand, spirling over (Y/N) and Charlie’s heads. 

“Come here,” Charlie practically growled, twirling (Y/N), pulling her in by the waist, and pressing his lips against her. At that moment, it felt like all the planets had aligned to create a timeless- one passionate moment that defined the future of their relationship. Overwhelmed by happiness, Charlie turned his wife in his arms and dipped her in front of the whole crowd, the sound of thundering claps and booming cheers filling the tent while they kissed. (Y/N)’s leg was lifted beside him, stretched perfectly and peeking underneath her gorgeous gown as the heat rose in her cheeks, that familiar sensation of liquid lightning coursing through her body. 

The newlyweds turned upright again, pressing their foreheads together as they laughed and returned to the tumultuous crowd surrounding them. Charlie and (Y/N) raised their intertwined hands and the excited guests rose from their seats, their chairs disappearing only to be replaced by the reception tables and an ample dance floor. Overlapping ‘congratulations’ came from the numerous guests, patting the couple in support as they made their way towards the dance floor with their wedding party. 

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know,” Charlie spoke out, spinning (Y/N) as they shared their first dance, the lights dimming around them as the crowd watched them. 

“I love you so much, Charles,” replied (Y/N), placing her hand on his cheek and leaning in to steal another kiss, “And I’ll spend every day showing you just how much.” Charlie let out a gleeful laugh, spinning his wife around the dance floor and pulling her towards their table once they finished. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” a soft voice caught their attention and they both turned to see Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and - to both their surprise - Professor Snape standing in front of them. 

“Professors!” (Y/N) exclaimed, “We’re so glad you could make it! We thought with the tournament it’d be difficult to get away-” 

“Nevermind that!” dismissed McGonagall, placing her hand on the bride’s shoulders, “I’m so proud of you and Charles,” she gushed, unlike her usually composed self, a small hint of moisture underneath her eyes, “Professor Dumbledore insisted we attend.”

“Yes,” added Snape in his usual tone, unlike McGonagall, he was devoid of any emotion, “Even I have to congratulate you on this joyous occasion,” he explained, his black eyes scanning over the crowd and back on his former pupil, “It seems Selwyn- or must I say, Weasley, that you have grown into a capable young witch. One Slytherin house was very proud to have.” 

(Y/N), overcome with the emotion of the celebration, wrapped her arms around the Hogwarts Potions’ Master who returned her embrace with a very stiff pat on the back, “Come now, Severus.” Dumbledore added gleefully, his eyes twinkling with excitement, “I’m sure Mrs. Weasley is just happy to see you.” 

Charlie let out a small snort, unable to contain his laughter as Snape recoiled and his wife returned to his side, “But Minerva is right, we are all very proud of you and I am not one to miss a wonderful evening to celebrate love.” 

“Please, help yourselves with food and drink!” urged Charlie, gesturing towards the tables and bar, “We’ll be resuming the dancing shortly, we’re so thrilled to have you here.” He finishing confidently, shaking Dumbledore’s hand who returned his smile with one of his own. 

“Will do,” He agreed with a nod of the head, “We’ll leave you two to it then!” With that, the three Professors trailed off to speak with Charlie’s parents who stood excitedly at the bar. 

“Do you think I went a bit overboard?” asked (Y/N) cautiously once they left, a small giggle overcoming her as Charlie vigorously shook his head, “Are you mad? It’s our wedding day, we’re allowed to go overboard.” He reassured, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“Well, if that’s the case… I could use a drink,” she whispered coquettishly but was interrupted by their wedding party clearing their throats behind them. 

“Wow, Weasley,” Merula pipped up, “I thought you were an excellent Legilimens, if you were, you could’ve heard us coming from a mile away” she teased with Rowan waving a shot glass as (Y/N) turned around. 

“You’re not allowed to tease today, Merula!” She exclaimed happily, taking the shot glass from her and pulling Charlie along so he could grab his from Andre, “I’m a married woman now! I get a free pass!” 

Merula rolled her eyes but gave in to her request, “As long as you take this drink, I won’t say anything!”

“Who knew it only alcohol to get Merula to lay off?” Barnaby quipped, earning a small punch which hurt her from than him due to the considerable amount of muscle he gained throughout the years. 

“I’m not going to wait any longer!” threatened Ben, raising his shot glass towards Charlie, “Ready?” he announced and everyone raised their glasses in a circle, “To life and happiness!” 

“To life and happiness!” They bellowed in unison, downing the chocolate vodka liqueur and extending their glasses towards Bill, who had hidden the bottle behind his back.

“Charlie did say three!” He announced, replicating the sing-song voice of the old officiant, “So everyone better have an excellent tolerance tonight because we’re celebrating until dawn!” 

Tonks threw an arm excitedly around Penny’s shoulders, almost spilling the contents of their shot glasses but laughing as Bill continued to pour their drinks. 

“You better switch up the drinks then!” Tulip muttered while sniffing the glass, grimacing at the strong scent of alcohol that practically burned her nostrils, “I’m more of a firewhiskey girl.”

“I’m going to have to agree,” nodded Jacob, “Not about the girl part, but I do like to mix things up… I wonder if they’ll prepare my specialty drink at the bar,” he pondered, looking longingly at the bar with a mischievous smirk. 

“On three!” Andre yelled, catching everyone’s attention and he gestured towards Rowan so she could join in on the count down. 

“Three!” Andre and Rowan finished chanting, throwing their heads back and swallowing their drinks before bellowing out indistinct cheers. 

“I know you guys said three-” whined Penny, shaking her hands in front of her glass but it was snatched away by (Y/N) so Bill could pour their final shot, “Oh, come on! At least let me breathe!” 

“You’ll breathe when we eat and dance!” dismissed Tonks, forcing the glass back into Penny’s hands who reluctantly raised it towards the happy couple, “Your turn!”

“Ready?” Charlie asked (Y/N), a dark blush spreading across his cheeks as he felt the early onsets on the alcohol affecting his body, “Let’s do that arm thing we talked about…” he whispered excitedly, pressing soft kisses against her cheek making her giggle. 

“You’re so in love, Mr. Weasley,” She muttered with a small shake of the head, “But so am I” (Y/N) pressed a kiss against his nose and linked her arm around his, “On three!” she exclaimed, forcing her glass as close to her lips as possible. On three, the wedding party downed their third shot of the evening, some of them shivering as the alcohol coursed down their esophagus. 

“Alright, let’s dance!” yelled Ben and Barnaby, pulling the bridesmaids away towards the dance floor to join the rest of the excited guests. 

“If you don’t mind,” interjected Andre, extending his hand towards (Y/N), “I do believe you owe me a dance?” he reminded her, and (Y/N) quickly slid her hand into his. 

“You’re quite right, most notable style-wizard of all Europe,” she replied, shooting Charlie an apologetic look but he only smiled, “Don’t worry,” He reassured, “I’ve got to see Mum and Dad.”

Andre pulled (Y/N) away towards the dance floor, the two of them spinning away towards the middle with wide grins. Charlie joined his family, who overwhelmed them with hugs and kisses, including his thirteen-year-old sister who had traveled with Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid to be there for the occasion. The rest of the guests danced and conversed excitedly, eating away at the delicious food the white-robed servers had brought to their tables. 

Jacob Selwyn sat at one of the farthest tables, exchanging stories with his sister’s old prefect, Felix Rosier who was accompanied by Angelica Cole, the former Gryffindor prefect. Sometime during the evening, Hagrid appeared in front of (Y/N) and Charlie Weasley in his mole-skin coat and tears streaming down his face, lifting them both up from the ground as he happily embraced the two of them. 

“So grown-up” cried Hagrid, wiping his tears away when he set them down, “I remember when yeh were both this tall” he gestured downwards, replicating their heights during the first-year and the couple nodded happily, red tinges on both their cheeks as the giggled at Hagrid’s remarks. 

The rest of the night went by smoothly, exchanging numerous conversations with witches and wizards they could hardly remember their names of due to the amount of alcohol in their system. (Y/N) was spun around the dancefloor but all of the Weasley siblings, even performing an impressive three-person tango with Fred and George, who seemed to have more to drink than the newlyweds themselves. Charlie was joined on the dance floor by his mother and father, his best man, and, at one point, Jacob who had raised him onto his shoulders at the climax of the song. 

While they were dancing, Ronald Weasley explained his blunder with Hermione at the ball to (Y/N), who automatically dragged him away to the muggle-born witch to correct his mistake and giggled excitedly when she saw the two twirling in a small circle with Harry and Ginny at their side. Some of the guests began to politely excused themselves by midnight, waving the couple off after leaving the gifts at the respective table and heading out towards the garden to the designated disappartation point. 

The celebration did not stop until the first hints of sunlight gleamed over the horizon. At that point, most of the younger guests had retreated inside the home to sleep on transfigured mattresses set up throughout the newlyweds’ home. Rowan and Bill had to forcibly escort (Y/N) and Charlie away from the dance floor since the two expressed their desire to stay until the sun shone above them but kept closing their eyes as they embraced. 

“Come on, little brother” chuckled Bill, winking at Rowan as he pushed Charlie, who continued to hum the processional song, up the stairs. Rowan blushed furiously at Bill’s actions but kept her eyes on (Y/N), who was spinning Great Aunt Tessie’s ruby tiara in her hands at the rhythm of Charlie’s humming, “I’ll have to thank you for that,” whispered Rowan excitedly, gazing longingly up at Bill and successfully getting the couple into the bedroom. 

Bill removed their shoes while they giggled on the bed, exchanging several kisses while Rowan secured the tiara in its leather box, “Think we should help them change?” asked Rowan, turning towards Bill, but quickly realizing the answer to her question. 

“I think that’ll be a no,” declared Bill, running a hand through his hair and extending the other towards Rowan, “Let’s go before we see something we don’t need to see. I think I saw an empty mattress in the room Andre is staying in.” Rowan nodded stiffly, sliding her hand into Bill’s and quickly closing the door behind her, locking the door for good measure. 

On the bed, Charlie shrugged off his overcoat and threw it to the side while (Y/N) pulled on his tie, undoing it and tossing it with the rest of his outfit. His lips mashed against hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth as she gripped his head firmly, locking him in their embrace as she fell back on the mattress and her dress pooled underneath her. 

“My dress,” she moaned against Charlie’s lips and he let out a small laugh, shrugging his dress shirt off and reaching behind for the zipper of her dress, “Of course, we can’t desecrate such a delicate creation,” he mumbled against her lips and lifted her up so she could wiggle out of it. (Y/N) laughed as the cold air hit her body, winking at Charlie as his eyes widened at the sight of the bright-white lacy lingerie she had hidden under her dress.

“Like what you see?” she teased, attempting to wriggle away from his grip, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto her back, “Don’t you dare, my darling” growled Charlie, pressing harsh kisses against her neck and pulling her stocking-clad thighs around his waist. 

“I love you,” gasped (Y/N) as Charlie groped her breast, her fingernails digging into his broad back and her hips grinding upwards to meet his, “So so much.” Charlie cupped her cheek, harshly pulling her up to exchange another kiss, not satisfied – no matter how mesmerizing they were – by the previous ones. 

“More,” groaned Charlie, his red-hair falling over his eyes as he pulled away to mutter against her lips, “I love you more” he breathed out, pressing kisses in between each word and pulling his wand out of his trousers, and uttering inaudible silencing charms towards the door. 

The two of them grasped messily at each other, running their hands over each others’ bodies and leaving marks that would surely be visible in the afternoon.

[letaliabane]

Your Mine

anon request: you are an agent along with Whiskey and he gets jealous of you and Tequilas close relationship. You prove to him that you and him are close *wink wink* (Unless you don’t write smut LMAO)

warnings: smut smut smut smut - ALWAYS WRAP UP KIDS!

prompts (If you would like to request a prompt, please include the name of the list and the number of the prompts)

20. You have no idea what you do to me (NSFW list)

You could tell Jack was watching you as you laughed along to one of Tequila’s many jokes, catching up after his transfer trip to London. 

You had been at the Statesman agency for over a year and in that same time period you also happened to capture the eye of a certain cowboy, the undeniably charismatic Agent Jack Whiskey. 

At first you thought it was just harmless flirting since he did it with every woman either in the agency or when on the job. But when you ended up waking up next to him after one too many drinks and more than a heated kiss, he confessed to you that he actually wanted to try and make something work between you. 

And before he kissed you and pushed you back against the bed, you agreed. 

Many of the agents were delighted you were together, particularly Gin and Tequila who both had been making bets on when you’d become a couple. 

But some of the others weren’t so kind, especially to Jack. Due to the fact there was an age gap, they liked to make jokes about his age and how he couldn’t “keep up.” Most of the time, both of you would put the agents in their place, but at times you noticed it did get to Jack. 

As you laughed and joked afar with Tequila, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. It didn’t help that just a couple of seats down he heard two of the younger male agents chatting who also happened to be looking in that direction. 

‘Damn check out Y/N, she’s lookin good isn’t she? God what I would do to her-’ 

‘Dude she’s off limits remember? She’s with Whiskey, has been for a while now.’ 

‘Pfft. Is she blind? He’s twice her age!’ 

‘I know right, the same thing I said when Rosé told me! I would love to show her what she’s missing out on. He probably can’t even go more than one round!’

‘Your totally wrong on that. He probably can’t even get past foreplay!’ 

Jack tossed back the rest of the whiskey he had been nursing as the two agents chuckled drunkenly, slamming his glass down before making his way out, not wanting to let his anger get the better of him. 

You noticed him move out of the corner of your eye, turning to watch as he swiftly left the tavern. Tequila noticed too. ‘Hey what’s up with Whiskey?’ 

‘No idea …’ Your words drifted off as you noticed the two agents sitting near where you had left him, their eyes hungrily looking your figure up and down, one even having the nerve to wink.

You scoffed, finishing off the rest of your drink, ‘I’m gonna go check on him okay? I’ll catch up with you later.’

‘Yeah for sure, get goin!’ 

You searched throughout the living spaces of the Statesman Agency for him, even briefly visiting your shared apartment to no avail of finding his presence. The last place on your list was his private office. 

You peaked through the double doors of his office, watching as he stood over his desk, pouring himself a tall glass of scotch. You gave a slight knock to the door, his lips lifting into a wide smile at the sight of you. 

‘Hey darlin, what are you doing here?’ 

‘Looking for you Jack. You disappeared from the tavern,’ You said as you pushed the doors wider, letting yourself just cross the threshold.  

He nodded towards pile of folders at the edge of the desk, ‘Thought I’d get back to finishing these off.’ 

‘Now that is something I do not believe Agent Whiskey. A couple of hours ago you were dragging me from my own office for a night out.’ 

When he just looked away, the desk apparently becoming more interesting to him, you sighed. While he wasn’t looking, you locked the door to his office before making your way over. 

You slowly removed his Stetson, settling it on the hook that hung on the wall before running your fingertips through his hair. He sighed, leaning into your touch. Jack opened his eyes when you tipped his chin up to find your eyebrow raised, ‘I hope you haven’t been listening to what those pubescent idiots have been saying.’

He chuckled deeply, but it faded when you continued to stare down at him, sighing once more. ‘I try not to let it get to me sweetheart, sometimes on days like this I can’t help but think they’re right-’

‘Well they’re not,’ You state, keeping your hand beneath his chin, ‘Your the best thing that could ever happen to me. I don’t want someone younger, or whatever they say. I love you, I want you, and only you.’ 

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you loosened his tie, beginning to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, ‘And I don’t need a little boy when I have a man and fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.’

‘Fuck I love you too Y/N-’ Jack let out a groan as you pressed your lips to his, running his hand through your hair, letting it fall loose from the tight bun you had it in all day. But just as he began to pull you into his lap, you pulled away, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

‘This is about you tonight Jack,’ You smirked as you got onto your knees, tugging his pants free and pulling out his cock, giving a firm squeeze. 

‘Oh fuck Y/N …’ He grunted as you began to stroke his cock, squeezing it every few moments before placing your mouth over him, moaning as you began to bob your head up and down over his cock. You felt him tense beneath you, his hand coming to run once more through your hair, gripping it as you fluttered your eyes up at him. 

You gagged lightly as his hips lifted involuntarily against your mouth, his hand instantly grasping you cheek, his thumb caressing it as an apology. You quickly took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze, relaxing yourself as he began to fuck his cock into your mouth. You couldn’t help but sneak a few fingers past your panties, moaning against him as you flicked over your clit desperately. 

Quickly Jack pulled you off, causing you to gasp for air before he slammed his lips to yours, his tongue slipping past and battling yours, moaning at the touch of his own taste. 

He tugged you roughly into his lap, pushing your dress up as his hands grasped your ass firmly, your hips rolling against his, both of you moaning against each other as his cock ran along your wet ruined panties. 

With a growl against your cheek, Jack ripped your panties, sending the flimsy fabric to the floor. You lifted you hips, positioning yourself over him before sinking down on him, whimpering against his neck as he cursed. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck before swivelling your hips, bouncing yourself on his cock. The chair shook as you both moved together, undoing more of the buttons of his shirt, gripping his heated skin. He firmly pulled down the fabric of your dress and bra down, attaching his lips to your nipple. 

‘Jesus christ Jack!’ You threw your head back whimpering, pressing his head firmly to your chest as his tongue swept over your breast. Your body trembled against him as you continued to bounce on his cock, slowing down by a beat, Jack noticing how your thighs tensed and were rigid against his. 

You gasped when he gripped your waist, holding you close as he began to fuck up into you. 

‘Oh my god-fuck!’ You whimpered, eyes squeezed shut, clinging to Jack’s forearms, his lips dragging down your neck in small line of wet kisses, nipping at your collarbone.

‘Thats right Y/N, come on sweetheart, I can feel how close you are,’ He muttered against your skin, slamming his cock into you faster, feeling himself also tethering on the edge of released your pussy squeezed around him.  

You felt his hand drag down the front of your stomach before hastily pressing his thumb to your clit. Your mouth opened in a silent cry as you cummed suddenly, your whole body trembling as you fell against Jack, tugging his hair hard. 

He groaned as your warmth embraced his cock, slamming his hips against yours shakily. As you briefly regained your senses, you licked at his ear, whimpering, ‘Cum for me Jack, I need you to cum so badly for me baby.’ 

At this he let out a growl, his hips stuttering against you as he pressed his forehead to your neck, whimpering as his cum filled you up. 

You both lay silent against one another for a moment, chests heaving, dishevelled, clothes undone and hanging off limbs, and covered in sweat. Both of you hissed as he pulled out slowly, your pussy clenching on nothing for a fleeting moment, leaving a wet trail on your thigh. 

In a daze, you noticed Jack tucked himself back into his pants before standing up with you in his arms, moving over to the large couch that sat in a corner of the office. 

When he sat comfortably, rubbing your back gently, you lifted your head, looking up at him with a sleepy smile, ‘I’m yours Jack, and you’re mine.’ 

He smirked down at you, cupping your cheek gently, ‘Couldn’t imagine being anyone else’s sweetheart.’ 

Jack brushed matted hair away from your eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead before allowing you to tuck your head once more beneath his chin, holding you close. 

Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Tagged: @pascalisthepunkest​

A/N: Okay THIS is my first proper smut, Good Girl (for Javier) was just a touch of it! Jesus I was sweating while writing this! I don’t know why I felt so threatened by this request … I literally was like CHALLENGE FUCKIN ACCEPTED ANON! Also my hormones are all over the place because time of the month so .. yeah *vanishes under blanket with hundreds of chocolate bars*

Remember requests are open for Pedro Pascal characters! Check it out and request whatever you like!

[wind-goddess-eri]

Joker’s Wild (Shang Tsung x Reader) Chapter 2

Ok there is a small bit of smut but its more of an manipulation.  soooo yeah. I hope y’all like it.  Joker is a dick and we all know this.

Weeks pass, and everyone eventually forgot about the whole thing that happened. Everyone except for you. It was almost as if a silent spell had been placed over everyone's mind to purposefully forget the incident even happened. For you, dreams, hallucinations and daydreams of The Joker were slowly breaking you down into a slight insanity. Something you hadn't had in a while. The insecurity you felt, as you laid on the ground, you thought, "What did that card mean?"

As you wondered curiously you spaces out. A few moments pass and you heard Mileena's voice, "Hey Y/N, hey Lord Shang." Not knowing Shang Tsung was there, you looked over to meet his smoldering, handsome eyes. You feel somewhat safe now that he is there with you. "Hey, what are you doing here?" you asks Mileena. Mileena merely shrugged at first. "I was walking around and remembered that I had to go get Bi-Han," she replies. That would somewhat explain why Sub-Zero wasn't around right now.

"Oh cool, where is Bi-Han by the way?" you asked.

You notices Mileena rubbing her stomach that is making hunger noises, indicating that she hadn't eaten all day. It was around 3 in the afternoon. "You didn't eat him did you? you asked your friend with a smirk on your face. "NO! He went to get food for all of us."

You and Shang go to her house, which was a block away from where Bi-Han was getting food. It's a decent sized apartment that had 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a living room and a kitchen. Usually Mileena did the cooking. "Make yourself at home."

"I'm going to take a shower," you tells the sorcerer looking at him with lustful eyes. His mere presence got her hot and going. "Okay dear, I love you," he whispered in your ear. Just as he was about to kiss you his phone rang with an unknown number on it. He turned away to answer it, wondering who it might have been.

You made your way to the bathroom, turned on the shower, got undressed and went in. Then you start to think about her past. A past you didn't want anybody that didn't already know it to know about it. You starts thinking about an old flame that was never put to rest. A flame that matched no other flame she'd felt before, and possibly never would. As the water gently trailed down your breast, going down your stomach, you thought to yourself, "Could this be real?" You go into deep thought, deeper than ever before. Trying to sort out confusion that has set itself in your mind. "I'm scared. What is happening to me?" you whispered to no one in particular, mostly yourself.

As you sits there in the shower, water pouring on your head, drenching your hair and down you back, you pondered. You thought of your life with him. What it was like. It seemed strange and too good to be true. As you sat there, trying to warm up, wet, and alone, you wanted him to be there with you. You opened your eyes and looked up. Three emotions passed your mind: surprise, confusion and anger.

There he was, The Joker, fully clothed, in the shower getting soaked to the bone. His hair was more of a mess than normal. It made you realize why the water wasn't hitting as it should have been. It wasn't directly touching you. You asked The Joker in the order of your emotions, "How did you....?? Where did you...??? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THE SHOWER!!!??"

The Joker looks at you and said, "I've been here...waiting for you. There's no need to be frightened. I am surprised that you didn't notice me," he adds causally. You looked at him in disgust. "I am not ascared of you, okay," you told him, trying to cram two words together; afraid and scared. "You look stressed," he tells you with a condescending tone in his voice.

"Get the hell out of my shower and hand me a towel," you told him a bit pissed. You turned the shower off and held out you arm and Joker hands you the towel. There was no way you were going to finish it with him in there. As you puts the towel on, getting out of the shower you asked him, "How did you get in here?" He simply replies, shrugging as if it were obvious, "The door was unlocked." you thought about it for a minute and very alert you asked with fear behind her eyes, "Where's Shang?"

The Joker was talking to you, trying to convince you to go back with him. His life was just not as chaotic without you, and he lived for chaos, for chaos brought peace and logic, no matter what people said. "Get the hell out of here! Don't do this!" You cried out to anyone who could hear. He wouldn't let you leave the bathroom and you didn't know where or what happened to Shang.

"Come on. It won't hurt. Just remember all the good old times when I would tie you up and have my way with you." He grabs your face with one hand and with the other hand he holds a knife. "Look at me!" He yells at you getting your attention. When you do, you can't move at all. Then he kisses you. He forces his tongue in your mouth...you have no choice but to do this. He stops and he looks at you.

"This is so unnecessary," You say. You looked back and say with a quiver in your voice, unsure on what exactly is happening. He steps forward and kisses you so passionately that your body just gives in. There was no more will to fight him, because in your reality, there never was a chance. In a little part of your mind, you doesn't want this to end. You dropped your towel and wrapped your arms around him.

Quicker than you thought possible, The Joker had managed to strip his jacket off and slowly reveal his purple and green suit. The suspenders were the first thing you had grabbed and tore from his body as his gentle but strong hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt. When that was thrown from his body along with the suspenders, you both went for his pants, rushing to remove his last piece of clothing to at least satisfy the both of them. Socks and shoes would remain, keeping him from actually removing his pants. Of course that would be the last thing that would be in their way, he never wore underpants.

Completely and utterly amazed at his shirtless form, you bore witness to not only the scars he'd gained by living the life that he has always lived by, but also the scars that you'd given him. It confused her as to why something as trivial as hurting him and having the scars to prove it turned you on. Before another thought even crossed your mind, he pushed you down to the floor and crossed the threshold that joined their bodies. For you, the sensation was like it was before; no one would be able to match it because of his uncanny ability to know your very thoughts on the actions they did together. As he penetrates you, you moans and looked at him with pleasure in your eyes. You felt like you was floating as he thrusts, moans and kind of laughs in passion. He'd always done this, mixing business with pleasure. In fact, this probably was business. Last minute business that included sex like no other. Harder and harder he dove into your cave that he'd touched with his light so many times before. Only now, you didn't really belong to him anymore, which made it the forbidden fruit that he needed to take, taste and devour. The last thing you saw before your peak hit was your eyes traveling to from the ceiling to the window, thinking how wrong and bitter sweet this was.

Then Mileena and Bi-Han bust in the door. The Joker was no were to be found. He left a card on the counter top next to the sink. Sub-zero runs over to you, grabbing a towel to cover you with it. Mileena reads the card out load, "You almost caught me. HA HA HA!!!!"