#do i put this in the tag its all kind of unrecognizable

[mealfreak]

I dunno when I'll get around making finished drawings of these concepts so take these in the meantime.

[fairlyang]

Kitty 🕷️

you've never had anyone able to stop you when doing crime, until now

w/c: 5K

pairing: miguel o’hara x blackcat!reader

tags: 18+ smut. stealing, getting caught, chasing, flirting, teasing, falling into temptation, exhibitionism, making out, fingering, blowjob, back blown out, choking, unprotected sex

notes: my fav fics bc I LOVE black cat she’s so hot and I learned sm about her when I was researching

The notorious Black Cat of New York, loved all things shiny, kicking ass, and using her seducing skills to the best of her ability when needed. Never exactly aiming to have turned out like her father but what can one do when kidnapped by Kingpin and are forcibly meant to be his Guinea pig?

Getting created to be a super soldier that was also a seductress? What else would this have led to?

On the bright side who else was able to rob banks and also be able to stop other criminals from doing so before she gets to hit them herself? None other than yourself, of course.

Obviously no one was able to stop the infamous Black Cat or retrieve all the things she'd steal. The cops were completely and utterly useless, slow and dumb. So you always got away and were able to profit off all the high end jewelry you'd steal.

You were going to hit up a jewelry store, to steal a few brand new diamonds for yourself. In your oh so casual Black Cat attire that consisted of a black spandex suit with the matching mask covering your eyes, along with the realistic long silver wig.

You were somewhat unrecognizable, but it wasn't like anyone from your personal life was gonna be robbing banks or jewelry stores. There'd be no reason for anyone in your life to see you when you were doing Black Cat activities.

And with no one to stop you, you were golden. Or were you?

I quickly turned off the security system in the jewelry store from the alley right next to it, I grabbed my bag of goodies and I hid my special tablet behind some trash before quickly going inside by the side door. It was vacant, as expected.

I went to the back of the store and look at the cases with the newest necklaces and rings embedded with shiny diamonds. I trail a finger along the glass and look down at the casing filled with only diamond rings.

I walked along the back of the store, looking at everything, the shiniest of rings and earrings until I spotted the most gorgeous necklace.

Filled with diamonds shaped like flower petals all along the neckline with a leaf shape hanging down with more diamonds around the shape, with a red ruby sitting perfectly right in the middle of it. My eyes flicker with admiration and want, I needed it.

I take my bag off from my shoulder and place it on the floor quickly opening it to grab something to open it. Then I stop and stand up walking to the back of the case and scoff. The key.

What kind of dumbasses leave the fucking key out?

I shrug and roll my eyes unlocking the little door and take the necklace out carefully. No alarm.

Odd but I'm not gonna question it.

I close the case and walk back to my bag and stuff it in one of its pockets then zip it up. I pick it up putting the strap back on my shoulder and walk around the store, stopping when something caught my eye.

I walk over to it and chuckle. How ironic... a gold necklace with a cat hanging out and yet another red ruby being held by it's little collar.

How could I not?

I grab a small tool with a pointy end and walk to the back of the counter. I kneel down and quickly unlock the little door and in just a few seconds it clicks open. I slide the door open and grab the necklace admiring the pretty ruby.

I stand up and grab a few other pieces then walk around the counter and back to my bag. I put them all in another pocket carefully then close it shut.

I wrap my bag around my shoulders and head towards the side door, not really wanting anything else. I open the door and close it quietly before making my way to pick up my tablet from where I left it.

Sure enough it was there and I quickly turned the security system back on before climbing on top of the roof.

I walk along the edge of the roof looking at the view, admiring all the buildings and the glowing moon right above them. I jumped off roof to roof for about half an hour, staring out, as I make my way home.

I was hopping off rooftops while admiring the moonlight and feeling the nice cold breeze. I was one block away from my apartment building when I heard a loud thump behind me. I quickly withdraw my claws and turn around, ready to pounce but I look up and see a huge man in front of me, in some kind of superhero suit? "And who might you be?" I ask, looking at the mysterious man up and down. Damn....

"That doesn't concern you." He snarls and I lift my hands up in fake defense.

"Okay sensitive-" I say and snicker.

"Shut up-"

"Okay well if it doesn't concern me then I'll just be on my way." I say and turn to walk away but his hand quickly grips my shoulder and turns me back around.

His hand then went to my back and some talons appeared out of his arms and he brought one up to my neck. I raised an eyebrow and chuckle, "ah so that's how this is gonna be...."

He's about to say something when I quickly shove him off me and lift my knee up to his crotch, hitting him hard, he groans and his grip on me loosened giving me a chance to quickly escape. I push him off me and make a run for it, jumping onto the next roof while he curses under his breath before I soon heard him land on the same rooftop, but I was about to jump to the next one already.

"Shit-" I curse under my breath and run as fast as I could and jump on the absolute last bit of every rooftop.

Suddenly I feel something wrap around my body, I look down, widening my eyes looking at some kind of red rope and the stranger pulling it making me step towards him. I groan and roll my eyes, "this isn't very nice y'know..."

"Good, it's not meant to be." He mutters walking to me and quickly grabs the straps of my bag, slipping it off my shoulders making me growl.

"Don't-"

"Cute, you think you can tell me what to do." He says, his tone cocky. The nerve.

I shut my eyes and slowly cut through a piece of the rope with my claws, I did it as slowly as I can to not alert him in anyway, let him have his little victory before I snatch my things back and go home. "So who are you?" I ask, annoyed and wanting to fill the silence.

He unzips my bag in front of me and takes out the flower petal diamond necklace first, I bite my lip and roll my eyes. Oh how badly I wanted to just claw my way out of this-

But no, not yet..

"Ah so the little cat likes diamonds huh?" He tuts making me smirk.

"Only girl's best friend." I say and pout, "and you're still gonna take 'em away from me?"

"'Course," he starts then grins, "don't think you can play me with your little games and antics, kitty I'm not gonna fall for it." He says looking at me sternly.

I smirk and shrug, "Every man has his own weak point."

He scoffs and shakes his head, "You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably irresistible?" I say in a soft voice making him chuckle.

"You just don't stop do you?" He mutters and looks at what else is in my bag.

He pulls out my tablet and I bite my lip, cutting through another piece of rope. He holds it up to me and I just smile, "find anything you like?"

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters something unintelligible and I just flutter my lashes at him, just gotta keep him distracted for as long as I can.

He's definitely not a cop, some kind of superhero? Like those corny movies? I shake my thoughts away and cut through another piece.

Just a few more and I'll be able to wiggle out...

"So stranger you're not gonna introduce yourself? Don't you have any manners?" I tease and smirk when he rolls his eyes.

He sighs and puts everything back where he found it, zipping every pocket and swings the straps over his shoulder. My eyes make their way to my bag but then land on his body. Jesus his biceps- broad shoulders- holy fuck the way he'd look so good on top-

"Spiderman." He says abruptly interrupting my thoughts.

"What?" I say and blink, confused.

"Names Spiderman." He says and I chuckle.

"I'm sorry-" I say and laugh, "like a tarantula spider?" I ask and he nods.

"What were you bit by a spider?" I joke and laugh.

He shakes his head and smirks through his mask. Hmm wonder what he looks like-

"I wasn't but others were." He says nonchalantly and I just raise an eyebrow.

"Okay... well that's... something." I say still confused and shrug.

My claws cut through another two pieces and I sigh, "well Spiderman, it was nice meeting you but I really gotta head home."

He raises an eyebrow at me and with a singular pull on the ropes they all fell to the floor, he looked at me mouth agape and shocked. "Would really love to stay and chat but I'm not really in the mood to seduce my way out tonight." I say casually and shrug.

I withdraw my own talons pointing it to his chest only lightly grazing his suit, and quickly take my bag off him and wrap it across my shoulder. I trace along his collarbone slowly while staring at his masked eyes, "but maybe we can do that in the future." I whisper giving him a wink, before quickly running to the edge and jump off the roof.

I landed on a set of stairs of the random apartment building we were on top of, I quickly hop off the side of them and slide down a pipe before sprinting down the alley and running towards my apartment.

I somehow made it without being followed, I made it to side of the building since it was on a corner. I unzipped my bag and took out a jacket before quickly putting it on and zipping it up. I take off my mask and stuff it in my pocket then grab my keys and go through the front door.

I walk towards the elevator and press the button and it immediately opens up. I walk in and press the button to my floor and it moves up. I sigh and lean against the wall, and not a single scratch on me.

It dinged and I quickly walk out and turn to the right, walking towards my apartment. I unlock the door, walking in and place the bag on the floor carefully before closing the door and putting the two locks on them. Another successful robbery.

And thus the Black Cat finally had someone worthy of being able to capture her. Sure it wasn't completely successful on Spiderman's behalf but it was the closest anyone has even gotten.

That robbery wasn't your first of almost getting caught, if anything it was the start of a long lasting game of cat and mouse.

Sometimes he'd go easy on you. Sometimes you wouldn't try so hard to escape. But every time, both of you would keep your interactions going for as long as you could, not getting enough of each other.

Both feeling the upmost attraction to one another but Spiderman doesn't want to fall into temptation while Black Cat continues to press on.

The thrill of it all being almost too much for both parties, but neither could help but want to continue this back and forth game.

Will Black Cat continue to press on or give up?

Will Spiderman stay strong or fall into his deepest desires?

"Spider! So glad you could make it tonight!" I say enthusiastically looking up at my new favorite person to stumble upon when I'm out stealing.

"Well I can't just let you steal more now can I, kitty?" He says looking down at me.

I bite my lip and can't help but admire his body again, like I do every time. just completely ignoring what he said. "You look good Spidey, have you been working out recently?" I ask as I place my bag down on the floor of the roof we were on.

"Maybe a bit." He says and gets off the edge of the roof and steps in front of me, still holding my gaze.

"Getting prettier kitty?" He says taking another step closer to me as I smile.

"Just for you." I whisper and quickly wrapping my arms behind his neck and lean up.

I felt his breath on my lips as I looked into his masked eyes, curiosity getting the best of me as I bring a hand to his neck and grabbing on the end of his mask slowly bringing it up. He instantly brings a hand up to stop me but I swat him away and only bring the mask above his lips.

Such pretty pink plump lips.

I let my thumb lightly graze his bottom lip, I feel it shake a little making me grin. "You could just give in y'know." I whisper and move my hand to go down and trail along his shoulder.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you know I can't."

"But we both know you want to." I murmur and move my head to look at his neck.

I leave the smallest of soft and open-mouthed kisses I can give as I feel his breathing speed up and his hands going back to grip my waist. I go up and lightly nibble on his earlobe making him moan and tilt his head back. I pull away and go back down to his neck, leaving wet kisses along his warm skin before I find the perfect spot to suck on.

I suck gently on his skin then let my tongue graze against his skin then leave a kiss on the new bruise. He lets out a moan and I feel him grip my waist a bit harder making me giggle. "Can't even deny it, can you Spidey?" I tease and he shakes his head no.

I leave kisses all along his neck then up his throat and against his Adam's apple, I felt the vibration of a groan against my mouth making me shiver with pure excitement as I squeezed my thighs together. "You know I can't kitty." He purrs making me bite my lip.

I pull away from him and he brings a hand up from my waist and takes off the rest of his mask. I widen my eyes but before I could properly admire him, he smashed our lips together in a very hungry kiss.

I kiss him back with the same intensity, my hands going up to his hair as his went down to my waist, bringing me as close to him as possible. I tug on his hair making him groan so I slide my tongue in ready to explore every inch but I soon felt his tongue on mine.

I felt my breathing getting unsteady quickly and felt butterflies all over my skin as the kiss was growing more passionate. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth when I felt a hard smack against my ass making me moan. His movements become more frantic and fast, I felt both of his hands squeezing and spanking my ass making me whimper against his mouth.

He pulls away since we were both starting to lose our breath, I try to calm myself down as he continued smacking my ass, surely making it red under my spandex. "You're so pretty." He murmurs and moves his head down to kiss my neck gently.

I let out a shaky breath and feel my eyes flutter as I tilt my head back to give him more access. "So pretty." He murmurs against my skin making me moan and squeeze my thighs.

"I need you-" he purrs, moving his hand to my inner thigh.

"Then have me." I breathe out and he groans.

He reached for the zipper by my neck and slowly brings it down. It goes down my chest as he continues dragging it down and stops at my stomach. He looks up and moans as I take my arms out of the suit, revealing my bare tits to him. His hands immediately went to squeeze them not having a care in the world that we were out in public on a random roof of a building.

He squeezed them both at the same time then started pinching both nipples making me yelp because he did it too hard so fast, he muttered a quick apology before he goes down and takes turns sucking on each sensitive nub. My hands went up to his hair as his were pulling the rest of my suit down, "eager are we?" I tease before letting out a moan as he reached down to rub to my covered pussy.

"You can't blame me," he mutters then pulls away and going down to his knees, "it's not my fault you look this fucking good." He says leaving the smallest of kisses on my inner thighs.

I let out a shaky breath and move back to lean against a pole, he scoots forward and leaves a kiss right over my clothed clit. "Spider-"

He hums as his hands slide up and quickly brings my panties down. He gets them off my legs and spreads my legs, gently blowing air along my now exposed pussy. He moans as he brings two fingers and gently rubs along my folds, my slickness enveloping them. "God you're so fucking wet for me baby." He mutters under his breath and I feel my legs shake.

I nod and bite my lip, taking the sight below me in awe. He looked so fucking good.

"Might just have to take you like this baby..." he murmurs before his mouth finally makes contact with my pussy.

"Oh fuck-" I moan and bring my hand down to grip his curls.

He starts devouring it as if it were his last meal and with one finger teasing my entrance making me buck my hips around his face. "Please-" I whimper and slowly move my hips.

He moans against me making me let out a whine because of how delicious the vibration felt and I feel his finger slip in, and slowly make its way inside. My walls clenching against his finger as he quickly shoved it then back out and back in again.

He repeated this a few times and right when I was going to complain when he slowed down, he added another finger and actually started fucking me right.

The only thing being heard on the rooftop being my moans and the sounds that were coming from between my legs, everything else was silent. And thank god for that.

He pumps them inside at a faster pace and curls his fingers up making sure to hit that spot oh so perfectly. "Fuck- just like that Spider-" I moan out, leaning my head back.

"So fucking dirty-" he mumbles not stopping his pace.

"Huh letting me do this to you out in public kitty? Don't even care if we get caught? You like this don't you?" He murmurs and I bite my lip, nodding as he looks up at me.

"Look at me and tell me how much you love it." He demands, going deeper making me a moaning mess above him.

I look down and lock my gaze to his eyes, "I love it so much- fuck! F-feels so good." I whimper and lean back on to the pole.

"That's a good girl." He purrs and I feel myself clench against him, holy fuck- 

He then leans in and starts sucking on my clit hungrily as he continues fucking me. I move my hips against his face and clasp my hand over my mouth feeling my orgasm quickly approaching. "S-Spider-"

Instead of responding he adds a third finger, fucking me deeper as all my arousal spills out. My legs began shaking and I tried to pull away but he quickly wrapped his other arm around me making me stay still. I move my hand away from my mouth and just let out bundles of cries as my orgasm hits.

He slowed down and kept fucking me letting me ride out my high while leaving me absolutely breathless. My heart was beating fast and my breathing was hard, I was trying my hardest to calm myself down but it just felt so good.

He finally stopped moving his fingers and just let them deep inside me, only slowly pulling them out. He pulls away from my soaked clit and looks up at me with a smile, my juices glistening on his lips and dribbling down his chin.

I chuckle and give him a lazy smile as he finally pulls his fingers out, I instantly feel more of my juices come out and I squeeze my thighs together. Can't just leak all over this roof....

I finally feel my breathing being steady and widen at the sight of him sucking on his fingers, having a taste of me. I roll my eyes back and moan, he looked so fucking good.

He slips his fingers out and gets up from his knees, standing up in front of me, "You taste fucking amazing kitty." He groans and I immediately pull him in for a kiss.

He moans against my mouth as I get a taste of myself as well, surprisingly sweet. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth as I have a hand travel down to his hard bulge.

I lightly rub it as I kiss him back hungrily and only start stroking it when he moans in my mouth. I pull away and grin, lips trailing down his mouth, to his chin, jaw, then neck. I kiss around his neck then suck on the soft skin before licking it gently.

I continue stroking him through his suit and the moans escaping his lips were just so delicious to my ears while I kept leaving marks on his neck. "You gotta get rid of this suit Spider." I murmur and he moans in agreement.

He pulls away from me and taps the back of his neck and suddenly the bottom half of his suit disintegrated revealing his thick and long cock spring up against his stomach. I bite my lip and without a second thought drop down to my knees.

I immediately take hold of it and start licking the precum off the tip, making sure to get every last drop. I don't waste anymore time and take him into my mouth, trying to take as much of him as I can. Only able to take half at first and already gagging had me thinking of how this would be a tight fit.

He was going to make me feel so tight as if it were the first time all over again but maybe he'd fit to perfect and fuck me so good. I felt drool drip down my chin and I realized I was taking more of him now.

I pulled out and look up at him with innocent eyes before sticking my tongue out and slap the tip on it. He groans and takes hold of my ponytail, leading me back to taking him.

I moan as he takes control and slowly thrusts his hips into my face, making me more and more wet. I closed my eyes and moved my head as well now taking him all the way that his trimmed hairs lightly tickled my nose. "Just like that- fuck just like kitty." He moans out and thrusts again making me gag.

He pulled on my hair and made me go back to his tip then thrusted his hips forward, then back until he decided to just start fucking my face. I let it happen and just look up at him all teary eyed as my throat was getting fucked.

Suddenly he pulls away and grabs my arm making me stand up with him. He wipes the drool off the side of my cheeks and then flips me over and bends me making me take hold of the pole.

He makes me arch my back and stick my ass out when I feel him position himself to my entrance. He moved his tip up and down my folds even to my clit then down to my aching hole then needed to be filled up again.

As if hearing my thoughts he slowly pushed himself inside making me immediately clench against his tip and having us both moan. He already felt so big and he was only barely inside...

I took a deep breath in then let it out and he takes hold of my hips as I grip on to the pole tightly. He pushes himself in and I could only guess it was about halfway before he slammed the rest in. "Fuck!!!" I cry out and move my ass against him earning myself a hard smack.

"You're so fucking tight." He groans and rubs my skin as he pulls back then slams himself into me again.

I moan and lean my head against the pole as he slowly starts to fuck me. After a few slow thrusts and he notices I've gotten comfortable and use to his size he finally starts going faster.

I bit my lip hard really trying to stay as quiet as I can, almost feeling bad if we wake anyone up but also the thought going away immediately when I feel a hand against my throat. I breathe in and quickly regret it for obvious reasons even though his grip wasn't too tight.

He then forces my throat back, making me stand up straight as he fucks me harder. I roll my eyes back and against his hard chest, his hand still wrapped around my throat as I forcibly hold back moans as he pounds into me. "God this pussy feels so good." He moans making me breathe out and hold on to his arm wanting a release.

He groans and fucks me even harder, his grip on my throat now being slightly tighter. A combination of a mewl and a cry escape my lips making him chuckle as he brings his lips to my ear, gently nibbling on it.

His lips then went down to the side of my neck and his other hand around my waist. His hand then trailed down to my stomach and he pressed it above my belly button making me clench.

He lets out of my throat and I let out cries as he continues pressing on my stomach, it feeling unbearably strange but good. "Fuck!! Spider- fuck- feels s-so- g-good." I choke out and he grunts.

"You're taking me so well baby- fuck- feel that? Mmm feel how much you're taking right now?" He moans into my ear running a shiver down my spine.

He brings his hand down to my waist while the other stayed where he was buried deep inside me. I'd never felt this before and it just felt so good. Also had me noticing how I was able to take all of him at once.

"Please- fuck me harder- deeper please." I moan out and he groans.

He does just that and slams his hips into mine making me cry out and hold on to his arms. "Fuck-"

I felt the all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach as he continued ramming into me earning all kinds of noises leaving my mouth. "I'm so close-"

He holds onto me tighter and just this size difference alone might've thrown me over the edge if I really thought about it considering how huge he was compared to me.  "Let go baby. I wanna feel you cum around me." He murmurs and I nod.

With one final deep thrust my orgasm hit hard and i felt my legs almost give up but I was held tightly and didn't worry about falling. I felt my body shake as he shot his cum deep inside me and I could hear his moans in my ear.

I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his chin on top of my head, and I think he kissed it? I wasn't sure if I felt that right but I was too fucked out to question it.

He slowly pulls out and I could have swore I felt him twitch inside me as he was pulling out. Finally I felt his tip pop out and I instantly feel my pussy gush out all his cum. I chuckle and look down as it spills to the floor, guess it was gonna leak anyway...

"You took me so well kitty." He purrs into my ear and I grin turning my head to look at him.

"You fucked me so well spider," I murmur looking deeply into his eyes, "even better than I'd have ever imagined." I whisper and he crashes his lips onto mine.

I kiss back and turn my body to face him as his hands explore my body while mine go behind his neck. "We've gotten so this more often." I murmur against his mouth and he just nods.

"Absolutely." He mutters and smacks my ass.

[andypantsx3]

confetti confessions | todoroki x reader

summary: “Shouto–?” you started, but you choked off as he suddenly shifted, leaning closer. It brought a tiny puff of some delicious cologne to your nose. “Hold still,” he intoned softly, his face drawing nearer. A wild thrill went through you, and the admission he’d just given you echoed loudly in your brain: “I am told I…kiss people.” This wasn’t–he wasn’t about to kiss you, was he?

tags: fem reader, birthday party, first kiss, slight misunderstanding, SFW

notes: Hello my loves! Please ignore how overwritten this is in some parts, and underwritten in others. I wanted to get it up in time for Shouto's birthday. I hope you enjoy it despite its condition!!

wc: 2.3k

The party was deafening.

Shouto’s apartment was stuffed with dozens of people, clamoring one on top of the other, armed with plastic cups and beer cans and little disposable shot glasses stamped with fire and ice emojis.

The space had been converted into something approximating a bar this evening, and festooned with absolutely heinous decor by Mina and several of the more enthusiastic former members of Class A until it was nearly unrecognizable. It was blanketed in red and white streamers, a riot of red and blue balloons, and hanging confetti poppers that people kept setting off anytime a new arrival walked through the door.

Almost all of the members of Class A were all accounted for, and they’d reeled in plenty of other friends and heroes besides. Some had taken the evening off, but you’d caught a great many in hero costume, too, dropping in for a beer on their way on or off a shift.

Mina had also produced a karaoke machine from somewhere, and you could hear it being put to highly creative use in the kitchen–-Mina and Kaminari serenading anyone who dared duck back in for a drink with a chorus of drunken wailing that only vaguely approximated a song you thought you might know.

They were so loud on top of the already voluminous chatter that you didn’t hear his approach, at first.

He dropped down onto the couch next to you, startling you so much that you almost sloshed your drink over your lap.

Which would have been a loss, considering the extreme amount of digging around in the various libations Kirishima had procured to find something even remotely above bottom-shelf. You’d learned that most pro heroes couldn’t afford to be picky, with the kinds of metabolisms they had and the sheer amount of liquor it took to get them drunk.

“Shouto,” you breathed out in relief, when you realized who’d sat down next to you.

Despite the sticky heat and the copious surprise confetti showers everyone had routinely been subjected to throughout the evening, the birthday boy himself looked just as inhumanly perfect as usual. His hair had been raked through with some kind of gel that you suspected was Camie’s doing, and he wore a pale blue button down that underlit his fading summer tan in the most horribly gorgeous way ever.

Not a single hair or stitch was out of place on him. The only real concessions to the fact that he’d been attending a party were the tiniest hint of a flush on his criminally high cheekbones, and a red plastic cup clutched in his long, unfairly pretty fingers.

“Happy birthday!” you said, happy to catch him for the first time since you’d gotten here, nearly an hour ago. You resisted the urge to smooth down your own dress, hoping you didn’t look too much of a try hard.

“Thank you,” he intoned, low and soft and barely perceptible over the sound of Mina and Kaminari’s howling. “I am…happy you could come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you promised him. If it had been anyone else, you might have preferred to retreat back to your own apartment after the kind of soul-sucking work week you’d had. But the very thought of seeing him always had your skin fizzing and your heart working double time.

You’d been nursing a crush on him for about a million years, and you were not about to miss his birthday.

A tiny smile pulled at his mouth, and he put an arm out over the top of the couch behind you, drawing in just a little bit closer to you. You clutched your drink tighter, like a protective talisman, as though Shouto was an obscenely persistent demon whose influence might be warded against.

“A Grammy-winning performance we’re hearing tonight,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. It was ostensibly vodka and some kind of juice, though you rather thought that the bartender–a smiling Kirishima–had taken significant liberties with the ingredients.

As if on cue, a third voice joined Mina and Kaminari, sweet and high but so uniquely detached from the appropriate key that you wondered if she’d ever even heard the song before–Ochako.

“Is that what we’re doing,” Shouto answered, tone bland. “Hearing. I rather thought we were...enduring.”

You laughed into your cup, almost inhaling the liquor when a huerrk! noise sounded in one the microphones like someone had snatched it, and an annoyed voice growled, “Oi, quit your fuckin’ caterwauling.”

“Some of us more gracefully than others, apparently,” you snickered.

Shouto’s unperturbed expression said it all.

“He offers very little grace, indeed,” Shouto said, taking a sip of his own drink. On the side, you saw a message spelled out in messy sharpie–FOR THE BIRTHDAY BOY! GIVE HIM MOSTLY JUICE, DO NOT LET HIM HAVE MORE THAN A SHOT AT A TIME!! It was followed by what looked to be a tally of how many shots he’d been poured already: three.

You suppressed a smile.

“You’re on a watch list, huh?” you asked, gesturing to the cup.

To your surprise, the dusting of pink on Shouto’s cheeks seemed to deepen. His mouth arranged itself into a little pout and he spun the cup in his fingers to reread the text to himself.

He seemed to contemplate it for a minute. And then he dropped a bombshell.

“I am told I am given to somewhat…amorous inclinations, if I drink too much too quickly.”

A shocked little thrill went up your spine even as you spluttered out an astonished laugh. “Amorous inclinations? Did you flash somebody??”

Shouto looked embarrassed, his long eyelashes fluttering. “I am told I…kiss people.”

Your interest fizzled like a bottle of newly-popped champagne. “You?” you asked incredulously. “The very man Hero Weekly described just last month as pro heroics’ most notoriously aloof ice prince?”

You knew he was nothing of the sort–altogether too kind and warm and thoughtful if you knew him at all–but a zoomed-in shot of the line in that article had done its rounds of all your group chats, and Class A had been milking it for weeks. Only two mornings ago, Kaminari had rolled a snowman in the snow outside his building and carved a set of abs into it, lobbing a photo of it into the discord with a “lookin good todoroki!!”

Shouto’s right ear appeared to be very pink against the white of his hair, and you found yourself transfixed.

“I have it from reputable sources,” he said.

You tried not to think about what the little flutter in your stomach meant when you thought of Shouto wanting to kiss someone. You pinched your leg just under the hem of your dress. Just because you had the world’s fattest crush on him did not mean you could have used those circumstances to your advantage.

You could be better than that.

“Well, I hope the sources enjoyed themselves,” you said, trying not to sound at all jealous.

Shouto turned his most strategically bland look on you, and you laughed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t kiss and tell,” you said, smiling.

“You are making fun of me,” Shouto said. His full mouth pulled into another pout and you thought you might be having heart palpitations at how cute he was. That or your drink was getting to you.

You couldn’t help the way your grin softened. “Gotta get my licks in where I can, you’re otherwise way too perfect.”

That seemed to give him pause, however. A white eyebrow raised, and he stared at you for a moment, those mismatched eyes picking over you in surprise. You realized quickly that you’d maybe been a little too complimentary. “Well–I mean—you know. You’re nice and…heroic, and stuff…”

“Heroic and stuff,” he echoed, his tone dry.

You nudged him with the toe of your boot, a rebuff, but Shouto just shifted again, leaning in conspiratorially. Your heartbeat spiked as the angle brought his profile further into view. You tried not to stare at the way his open collar framed the strong lines of his throat.

“I am a pro hero,” Shouto said with zero inflection.

You could tell he’d flipped the tables on you, then, and was poking fun at you with his usual customary blandness so many people took for aloofness.

“Well then congrats on meeting your job criteria,” you said, trying to sound normal. “Our city can sleep safe.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, the hint of a smile pressing at the corner. You suppressed the little lick of pleasure that went through you at having made him smile, ducking your head.

When you looked up, however, Shouto’s expression had changed. His mouth had slackened, and he was looking at you with a renewed focus, his eyes curious.

You froze–unsure what had just changed.

“Shouto–?” you started, but you choked off as he suddenly shifted, leaning closer. It brought a tiny puff of some delicious cologne to your nose.

“Hold still,” he intoned softly, his face drawing nearer.

A wild thrill went through you, and the admission he’d just given you echoed loudly in your brain: “I am told I…kiss people.”

This wasn’t–he wasn’t about to kiss you, was he?

But he drew even closer, his expression intent, and you couldn’t see what else he could possibly be doing. Your heartbeat picked up. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you took in a deep breath, feeling all of your focus concentrate on your mouth.

You waited. Exhaled a shaky breath–

And then long fingers touched the hair at the side of your head, and you felt a soft tug.

Your eyes shot open only to see Shouto’s hand retreating, something golden and glittery clutched in his fingers.

“You had confetti in your hair,” he said.

Mortification speared you, and you couldn’t help the horrified flush that rose to your face.

Confetti.

He had been leaning in for fucking confetti!

You were an idiot!

“Oh my god,” you choked, trying to stifle your embarrassment. But it was too late. Shouto glanced down at you, and his features grew concerned.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone growing urgent. “Are you well? Is something the matter?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, flapping your hand. “Uh, thanks for getting that!” Your voice came out strangled however, the least convincing tone ever, and you could tell it registered falsely in his ears.

“Have I done something?” Shouto ventured.

“No–it’s not you–” you said.

Of course he hadn’t done anything! It had been you, suddenly off balanced by his unexpected admission, basically desperate to imagine any scrap of his affection! But he’d never even given a hint that he felt anything more than friendship for you.

“Then you–?” he murmured, his brow furrowing. It took a long moment, his expression puzzled. But then you watched with some horror as it dawned on him. His features went smooth and clear.

“You thought I was going to kiss you,” he said. Like he was stating an inarguable fact, the color of the sky or the grass.

His tone was once again horribly bland. Only this time it wasn’t anything to laugh at. This time it was like an arrow through your chest.

“I–no–well, yes, but I–” you floundered. “I didn’t, um, obviously you haven’t had enough drinks. Not that I would expect it anyway. It’s just that you said that thing and it was…in my head…”

“You thought I was going to kiss you and you…accepted it,” Shouto continued, as though he hadn’t heard you.

You cringed. Yes. You had all but puckered up for it.

“Y/N,” he said, and there was a note of something soft in his low voice. You did not like where this was going. “Did you…want me to kiss you?”

“I never want you to do something you don’t want to!” you rushed to reassure him.

But Shouto’s eyebrows just rose, and he leaned towards you again, those mismatched eyes going just a little bit wider. “I don’t believe that’s a no.”

You couldn’t have produced an answer if you tried. You just stared at him helplessly, heart pounding.

“And if I…did want to kiss you?” he asked finally.

You gaped, the question short-circuiting your brain. Maybe Kirishima had put a little something too much in your drink. Like a hallucinogenic or like, lead paint.

“You…kiss me–” you garbled out, your voice strangled.

Like that had been some kind of confirmation code, Shouto’s mouth quirked, and his face dipped nearer to yours again. “I’d like to kiss you,” he said.

You made the most embarrassing sound of your life.

But then his mouth was on yours. It was warm and soft and utterly perfect, just as devastatingly good as you might have pictured. Shouto tasted like his drink, sharp sake and some kind of fruit juice, and he kissed slow and sure, in a way that made lightning zing through your veins.

You were utterly certain you would never forget this moment for your entire life.

“Is it your birthday or mine,” you wondered stupidly when Shouto finally drew away. You could feel the huff of his laugh on your lips.

You opened your eyes to see him watching you closely, a wry little curl back at the side of his mouth.

“Definitely mine,” he decided, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you. “The loveliest gift I have ever been given.”

Another hot flush crept down your chest. You smiled at him, feeling bubbly and giddy and stupid. Shouto reached out, tugging your cup from your fingers too, and then leaned back in to put his mouth close to yours again.

“I have been hoping for this particular gift for a very long time,” he said. “Perhaps you might indulge me with one more?”

You couldn’t believe this was real. You leaned in, grinning like an idiot.

And then you gave him the first of many more–your confetti still clutched in his fingers.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

to the other side | lewis hamilton, charles leclerc

🪞 synopsis: At an Italian villa, you and your boyfriend attend a high-end auction where a wealthy owner reveals a mysterious mask. When he puts it on, reality starts to warp, twisting the villa and its guests into something unrecognizable. tags: psychological thriller, suspense, liminal horror, cosmic horror. (inspired by hp lovecraft, alan wake 2, impossible landscapes and the substance) | (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 5.2k words)

ps: i’m not even apologizing for the insanity that is this story, cause if i can’t write something like this on tumblr, where else?

part 1

Subject: That Night at the Villa – Remember?

It started off like any high-end event: champagne flutes clinking, people in all kinds of designer clothes and expensive jewelry, showing off their wealth. You and Lewis had come straight from Maranello, didn’t you?

The villa – what was it called? They always have these ridiculous names, old Italian stonework, ivy climbing up the side, a view of a lake that looked like something out of a painting. It was one of those places that reeks of money and secrets and scandal. 

You kept your arm looped around his, the two of you doing your best to blend in. Then there was Charles, smiling like a schoolboy when he spotted you two across the ballroom, Alexandra draped on his arm. She looked stunning, of course, in a dress that seemed to catch every glint of light from the chandelier above.

You four made your way through waves of laughter and small talk with the other guests. Hollow compliments about the villa, polite lies about how you’d love to see their next art collection or spend a weekend in their ridiculous summer homes. All the while, the real prize waited in the center of the room: that thing they were auctioning off.

Remember?

The mask. It was hidden under a heavy cloth like it was something sacred – or cursed. You weren’t paying it much attention, though. Not then. Why would you? It was just another overhyped relic with a story too good to be true, probably something they dug out of a long-abandoned Italian church and decided was worth millions.

Lewis had just leaned over to whisper some joke in your ear when the lights dimmed. A spotlight clicked on, washing the stage in a harsh, artificial glow.

The host began the auction. Everyone’s attention focused in, holding their breath for the reveal. The fabric slipped off, and that’s when you got your first look. Just a glimpse, really. But it was enough. There it was, a mask. Black, polished. The host, the villa's owner, lifted it up. The room fell quiet.

He said a few words, the kind of speech you'd heard a hundred times before at events like this. And then, without warning, he slipped the mask over his face.

The lights flickered, and it felt like the room stretched – walls bending away, the chandelier overhead swaying without a breeze. You looked around, and half the faces in the crowd seemed... wrong. Like they'd blurred for just a second.

The host froze, his eyes wide behind the mask, but he didn’t move to take it off. A hush ran through the guests, confused laughter, someone dropping a glass. And then, with a cracking sound, the room snapped. It was like everything twisted at once, and suddenly the villa wasn’t the same. 

Charles was the first to move, he tried to walk toward the stage, but Alexandra caught his arm. “Don’t,” she said. Her eyes were locked on the owner, who was standing dead still with the mask covering his face. His chest was heaving like he was trying to breathe but couldn’t remember how.

Lewis turned to you, his voice low and urgent. “We need to go,” he said, but you didn’t move. Your eyes were fixed on the chandelier. It wasn’t swaying anymore. It was spinning, slowly, a single crystal breaking away to drift upwards, vanishing into the ceiling.

The host took a step forward. The mask shifted, catching the light in a way that made it look alive. His eyes flickered – two points of dull light behind the mask’s empty gaze.

And then he spoke, but it wasn’t his voice. It was a chorus, layered, distorted, and far too loud.

“Stay.”

The room twisted again and chaos broke loose. The guests screamed in unison, their voices melding into a single, distorted roar that ricocheted off the walls. Every time someone shouted, the room cracked. It started with a loud snap, like a bone breaking, and then the walls shifted – bending inward, stretching outward – before everything returned to its original form, but slightly off. A second later, the chandelier flickered and snapped in half.

“Go!” Lewis pulled at your arm, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the shifting walls.

You turned toward the nearest exit, only to find it had vanished. Where there was once a wide archway, now there was a blank, seamless wall. The guests were running, frantic and disoriented, shoving each other, trying to push through a door that wasn’t there anymore. 

Charles was already moving, pushing past people, Alexandra gripped his arm, trying to keep pace with him.

“Stay close,” Lewis said. He was tugging you behind him, weaving through the crowd, but the sea of bodies was relentless. Every step you took, someone else pushed forward, screaming, hands reaching for nothing.

The room cracked again. A low, spine-rattling noise that made the air vibrate. You heard the walls groan, stretching and twisting, reshaping. The floor buckled beneath you, causing everyone to stumble. People yelled, falling into each other.

“Keep going,” Lewis urged. His hand was tight on your wrist, pulling you toward what you hoped was the exit. You saw Charles ahead, fighting his way through a tide of panicking guests. 

Another crack. This time, the floor split wide open. It wasn’t just a crack, it was a tear in reality itself. It spread in all directions, as if the building was being torn apart. People scrambled to the edges, slipping on the uneven ground, but you couldn’t focus on them. You had to move.

You reached the end of the hall. There was a door – a real door, maybe – at the far end. But as you took a step toward it, it flickered. The wood rippled, its edges curling up like paper in a fire. It didn’t matter. You kept running, pushing past the last few people.

Another crack. The walls snapped and rearranged again, and the ceiling tilted – an impossible angle, as if gravity had stopped caring. You made it to the door and walked through it. 

part 2

You blink and when your eyes open again, you're knee-deep in warm water, your Versace dress ruined, heavy against your legs. The fabric clings to you as you step back, heart pounding in your chest.

Lewis, Charles, and Alexandra are there with you, standing in the water, their expressions mirrored with shock, terror, and confusion. 

The cracking, the yelling, the chaos – it’s all gone. You take a deep breath, the stillness around you unnatural. The water ripples gently around your ankles, but there’s no sound, nothing except the beating of your own heart.

You look around, trying to find something familiar.

The villa stands at the far edge of the lake, its silhouette barely visible in the low light, like a shadow cast by something far too large for the space it occupies. But there’s no one else around. No guests, no cars, no sound of life.

And the moon – God, the moon – hangs far too close in the sky, so close that it seems like you could reach up and touch it. Its glow is sickly, too bright, casting a harsh light on everything it touches. The world feels off-balance, like you’re caught in a dream that you can’t wake from.

“What the hell is going on?” Lewis says, his voice shaky.

You can’t answer. You just stare at the moon, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. 

The water laps at your legs, warm and strange, but it doesn’t help to calm the feeling creeping up your spine – that this is no longer real, and you’re not sure how to get back to what is.

“We need to go,” Charles says, his voice cracking.

But where? There's only the lake and the villa, stretching out endlessly in front of you. No way forward. No way back.

“It was the mask,” you say. It feels true, even if you don’t fully understand why.

Lewis looks at you like you’re insane, wide-eyed in a way you’ve never seen before. 

"Okay…? What does that mean?" It’s clear he’s terrified, not just by what’s happening, but by the fact that you’re buying into whatever madness is going on.

The words catch in your throat. You try to explain, but it’s like the reason isn’t coming from your head – just from somewhere deep inside, somewhere that feels like it’s not yours anymore.

“Back at the villa... when he put it on –" you start, but Lewis cuts you off.

“The mask?” He spits the word like it’s poison. “You think that’s what’s doing this? You’re seriously –” He shakes his head, unable to finish the sentence.

You feel the weight of his stare on you, a judgment you’ve never felt before. It makes the air feel colder, tighter.

"Yeah," you say, “I think it is. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Lewis takes a step back, like the distance might help him figure out what to do with you, what to do with this mess. His eyes dart between you and the dark lake, the villa standing silent in the distance. He doesn't want to believe you. Hell, you don’t even want to believe you.

“Right. Okay,” he says. He’s not angry, not yet, but the doubt in his voice is worse.

"I'm not going back there!" Charles shakes his head violently, "If that’s what you’re implying, then good luck! 'Cause I'm leaving!" He starts to turn, his eyes wide, his breath coming in short gasps.

"She’s right," Alex says, her voice uncertain, but firm. Her eyes flick to the villa in the distance, then back to you. She’s still not sure if any of this is real, but even if this is a dream, she wants out. 

“Alex, no,” Charles pleads, his voice breaking. He steps toward her, a desperate plea in his eyes. “We’re not going back there. We’re not chasing some stupid mask.”

But Alex doesn’t move. Her eyes are locked on yours now, and you can see her mind working, slowly coming to terms with the same horrifying truth. She’s not sure, but she’s willing to try.

And then, something changes in Lewis. It’s like a switch flips inside him. He’s no longer the scared man trying to deny it. He looks at Charles, then back to you, and finally says, “There’s nowhere else to go.” His voice is steady now, a quiet resolve taking over.

Charles stands still for a moment, his eyes flicking between the three of you, unsure. But in the end, he exhales, defeated. He looks to the villa, then at the water, and then, reluctantly, back at you.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But if we end up stuck here forever, I’m blaming you.”

You don’t argue. There’s no time to argue. The water laps at your ankles as you take the next step, each ripple distorting the moon’s reflection, stretching it into strange, unrecognizable shapes. You start walking back toward the villa, slow and tense.

“We need a plan,” Lewis says.

“We need to stick together,” you add. 

“How are we supposed to make a plan if we have no idea what’s going on?” Charles asks. He keeps looking at the villa like he expects it to disappear at any moment.

“Maybe we just need to take the mask off his face?” Alex says. She sounds desperate, clinging to any thread of logic. “Maybe it’s... witchcraft or something.”

Lewis scoffs, but there’s no humor in it. “And then what? We kill him?”

“What? No!” Alexandra shoots back, but then she looks at you. “I mean, I don’t know! What if that’s the only way?”

"Wait, hold on," Charles says, eyes narrowing. “What if we’re all hypnotized? What if this isn’t real?”

"Yeah, and what if it is?" you counter, voice steady even as your stomach twists.

You keep moving, the group tightening into a loose circle, every step forward bringing you closer to the villa's shadow. 

"Almost there," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just stick together.”

The water grows shallower, and then you’re stepping onto the cold, slick stones that lead up to the villa’s entrance.

The doorway yawns open, waiting, darkness spilling out like ink.

“Okay,” Lewis says again, his voice steadier now, like he’s trying to convince himself. “We go in, we get the mask, we end this.”

You nod. You don’t look back.

One by one, you step up to the entrance.

part 3

It’s like you’re passing through a thick veil of static, a buzz that tingles along your skin. The air inside is cold and sterile, with a faint, artificial scent of old wood polish mixed with something sharper, like ozone. The grand ballroom is gone. 

What greets you instead is a long corridor, stretching farther than it should. The walls are featureless, off-white, but they flicker under the dull fluorescent lights overhead, like a bad digital image struggling to load. The carpet is thin and industrial, a pattern of faded squares that vanish into the shadows. There’s no sound except the echo of your footsteps and the slight hum of the lights – too loud, too present, making the silence that much more suffocating.

“Where are we?” Charles mutters. His question hangs in the air, unanswered. No one dares to speak again.

The corridor splits, opening up into a space that feels too big to fit inside the villa – a lobby, empty and desolate, with walls that stretch upward and vanish into a fog that swallows the ceiling. It looks like a hotel abandoned in mid-construction: half-finished hallways, doors leading to nowhere, spaces that don’t belong. A row of identical elevators lines one wall, their buttons glowing a soft, sickly green. 

“No... no way,” Alexandra whispers, backing away. But there’s no retreat – the corridor behind you is gone, swallowed by the same fog that hangs above. There’s only the lobby now.

There’s a small, unassuming reception desk in the corner of the lobby with a brass bell on top, the kind you’d see at an old hotel, polished and gleaming. 

Without thinking, you step forward and press the bell. The sound is sharp, echoing through the empty space – too loud, too final. Lewis grabs your arm. "What are you doing?" he hisses. Charles is shaking his head, backing away as if expecting the walls to close in on him. Alexandra’s eyes dart around, panic setting in. “This is insane,” she whispers. 

But before anyone can say anything else, a man appears.

It’s as if he’s materialized out of nowhere, stepping out of the fog behind the reception desk. He’s wearing an old-fashioned hotel uniform, pressed black suit, gold buttons, and a pillbox hat with a thin gold stripe. His face is pale, his eyes hollow.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice calm and formal, with a slight, unplaceable accent. He stands perfectly still, not blinking, not moving.

“What is this place?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but your words feel small, insignificant.

The man doesn’t answer. He just stares at you with a polite smile on his face. It’s as if he didn’t hear the question at all. Or worse, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re asking.

“Who are you?” Lewis demands, but the man doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are fixed on you, unblinking. It’s like you’re the only person in the room.

“Do you require assistance?” the man asks finally, but there’s something off about the way he says it. His tone is warm and welcoming, but the words seem empty, hollow, like they were recited by someone who has no idea what they actually mean.

“Yes,” you say. “I need to go to my room.” You decide to play along, to see how he reacts. His face brightens instantly, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.

“Oh, of course.” He reaches under the counter and hands you a key. It’s not a keycard or anything modern – just an old-fashioned brass key with a heavy tag attached. Room 44. “Mr. and Ms. Hamilton,” he adds.

“And for my friends?” you ask, feeling a little bolder now that he’s responding.

The man doesn’t hesitate. He produces another key and holds it out to Charles. Room 16, just like you’d guessed. Charles takes it, but his hand is trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief.

You decide to push your luck, “Do you know where I can find Mr...?” You falter. You can’t remember the name. The man in the mask, the owner of the villa – his name slips away as soon as you try to focus on it. A sharp pain stabs behind your eyes, and you shake your head, wincing. “The man with the mask,” you manage. “Do you know him?”

“Oh, Mr. Hartley?” the man replies smoothly, and something in your gut twists. You know that’s not the name. You’re sure of it, but you can’t remember what it was supposed to be. He continues without hesitation. “He’s at the ballroom, of course!”

“The ballroom?” Lewis jumps in, the panic rising in his voice. “And how do we get to the ballroom?”

The man goes silent, his polite smile frozen in place, like someone hit pause on a recording. His eyes flick to you, then to Lewis, and he says nothing.

“Come on, man!” Lewis snaps, his frustration boiling over. He takes a step toward the desk, but the man doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, his expression serene, unfazed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice almost regretful. “You can only go to the ballroom when it’s time for the dance, of course!”

You don’t like how he says of course – like you’re missing something obvious, like you’re the only one who doesn’t understand the rules.

“Fine,” you say.

The man’s face lights up again, his smile so wide it seems to stretch beyond what’s normal, the edges of his mouth curling just a bit too far. “Enjoy your stay,” he says. He turns and walks away, vanishing back into the fog before anyone can say another word. It’s like he was never there at all.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Charles mutters, staring at the keys like they’re about to bite him. You’re not sure how to answer. Your head is still pounding.

Lewis’s jaw is set, his eyes dark. “This is bullshit,” he says. “What are we doing? Are we really going to play along with this?”

You look at the key, at the number stamped on the tag – 44. You don’t have any better ideas. There’s no exit, no way out of the lobby, no way to find the ballroom until... until it’s time for the dance. 

“I think we have to,” you say, and you can’t keep the uncertainty out of your voice. 

Charles doesn’t look convinced. Alexandra bites her lip, her eyes darting to the row of elevators. She’s scared, but she nods.

“Whatever this is,” she says quietly, “we’re already in it. Might as well see it through.”

Lewis sighs, but doesn’t argue. He takes the key meant for you both and grips it like it’s a lifeline, even though you all know it’s anything but.

You head for the elevators, walking side by side. The floor feels unsteady, like it’s shifting with each step, but you keep moving, reaching out for the nearest button and pressing it without thinking.

There’s a brief pause and then, with a ding, the elevator doors slide open.

“Together,” you say, and everyone nods.

The doors close with a mechanical hiss, and the elevator lurches upward, taking you to whatever waits on the other side.

part 4

The door slides open and you step out into a corridor that feels too modern, too perfect, like you’ve stepped into the lobby of a luxury hotel in Dubai. Everything shines – polished marble floors, deep gold trims along the walls, and soft ambient lighting casting a warm glow. It’s unnervingly normal.

The door you need to find is just down this hall. Charles is ahead of you, eyes darting from room to room, his breath coming faster. Then you catch a glimpse of something in his hand.

“My phone,” he says, holding up the screen. “I don’t have reception.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Yeah? No shit!”

You all go silent for a moment. Without thinking, you pull out your own phone. Lewis does the same, then Alexandra. Nothing – no bars, no data. But everything else is there. The date is right. The time matches what it should be. 

“Come on,” you say, snapping everyone out of it. You nod towards the end of the hallway.

When you reach the door, Charles hesitates, eyes flicking to the brass numbers on Room 16, then to the identical plaque on the next door over – 17. 

“You want to knock on 17?” Lewis asks, his voice attempting nonchalance.

Charles nods. He reaches out, the moment stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until he raps his fist against the door, three sharp knocks. The sound echoes in the silence.

It opens almost immediately, revealing a room decorated in minimalist luxury. A woman stands in the center of the room, her face unnaturally still. Her skin is too smooth, almost waxy, a vacant look in her eyes, like she’s staring at something far away – something no one else can see. She steps toward you slowly.

“I’ve been chosen,” she says, her voice a soft, eerie monotone. “I’m finally beautiful.”

Before any of you can respond, she turns, lifting a mirror in front of her face. Her reflection, now distorted, grins back at her, showing her face stretched and pulled into a grotesque smile. She mutters to herself, “I’m perfect. It’s happening now. You’ll see soon enough.”

You exchange looks with the others and then, suddenly, the door slams shut, leaving you all standing in the hall.

“Let’s just... keep moving,” Charles mutters, his voice shaky, but he doesn’t wait for anyone. He moves to the next door quickly, too quickly, as if trying to outrun whatever just happened.

He knocks twice on the next room door. It opens slowly, revealing a room filled with dim, flickering lights. Inside, a man is standing in front of a mirror, staring at his reflection. His hands move methodically, brushing his hair over and over, the motion too practiced, too mechanical.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks his reflection, his voice hollow, but the reflection – his reflection – is grinning in response. 

The man’s hands tremble as he grabs a brush from the vanity and begins to brush his hair violently, faster and faster, each stroke more desperate. His eyes never leave the mirror, and the smile on his reflection widens.

“I’m so close now,” he murmurs, a hint of panic creeping into his voice. “I’m perfect. Can’t you see? I’m perfect now.”

As if on cue, his reflection steps out of the mirror, impossibly, without breaking the surface. Charles shuts the door quickly. A sound, like skin stretching, comes from inside.

“What the hell was that?” Alexandra breathes, her voice shaky.

“I don’t know,” you answer. You keep moving to the next room and knock before anyone can stop you, more out of habit than anything else.

The door opens to reveal a man – no, a thing – sitting on the bed. His clothes are torn, his body covered in jagged, fresh cuts. But it’s his face that makes your stomach turn. It’s been pulled back so far, his skin stretched, and his eyes are wide, wild with excitement.

He looks at you, his lips stretching into a smile that’s more animal than human.

“I’m finally beautiful,” he whispers, “Look at me. I can feel it. I’m perfect now. Finally.”

And then he begins to tear at his skin, ripping away the flesh, revealing a form beneath. His hands claw at his face, and with each pull, his body grows grotesque, his form shifting and changing. His arms extend too long, his neck elongates as if he’s trying to tear himself free from his own skin.

You stumble back, breathless, horrified.

"Do you see it now?" he asks, his voice now distorted, a chorus of voices overlapping. "We’re all changing. We’re all becoming the beautiful ones."

Without saying a word, you back out of the room and shut the door quickly.

part 5

You’ve been walking for hours, lost in a maze that defies any sense of order or design. The hallways stretch on and on, the walls shifting from luxury to dilapidation. At one turn, you’re moving through the hall of a five-star hotel, at the next, you’re in a narrow corridor that smells of mold and old carpets. The elevators are gone. You don’t find Room 44. Every door you open leads somewhere else – hallways leading into more hallways, stairs that only go down.

You’re exhausted. Your feet ache, and each breath feels heavy.

“Wait,” Alexandra gasps, leaning against a wall. You stop, slumping down to the floor, pulling off your shoes, the heels scuffed and ruined. The hallway you’re in now looks like a run-down motel – cheap patterned carpet, faded pastel walls, flickering fluorescent lights overhead. There’s an ice machine humming softly, its pale blue light casting long shadows. Next to it is a narrow door with a faded brass plaque that reads, in chipped lettering: Ballroom.

“There!” you point, voice hoarse with a mix of desperation and relief.

Lewis, Charles, and Alexandra stare at the door, faces twisted with confusion. It doesn’t make sense. 

“This can’t be it,” Lewis says, but his voice lacks conviction.

Charles shakes his head. “This isn’t right. This place... it’s messing with us.”

“Too late for that now,” you say, trying to muster some certainty. The logic is unraveling, and you can feel it slipping away, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing makes sense, so you have to stop expecting it to.

You step forward and rest your hand on the cold, tarnished doorknob. Your fingers tremble, and you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to believe. You twist the knob, push the door open, and step inside.

You enter what appears like a mockery of the original ballroom. It’s all wrong – like someone had tried to recreate it from memory and failed. The chandeliers are made of painted cardboard, and the marble pillars are cheap plastic, their surfaces crudely textured to mimic stone. The floor is a painted canvas, creased and worn, stretched over what feels like plywood. 

The guests are all mannequins, dressed in the same finery you remember, frozen mid-conversation, faces expressionless and blank. Some hold champagne flutes filled with what looks like painted liquid. They don’t move, just stand there, locked in a grotesque parody of life.

At the far end of the room, standing on the stage where you’d last seen him, is Mr. Hartley. He’s still wearing the mask, his posture unnaturally rigid, like a marionette waiting for its strings to be pulled.

Something catches your eye and you grab it. You pick up a bidding plaque, feeling the cheap plastic smooth under your fingers. You stare at it for a second, a flood of memories hitting you all at once: the lights dimming, the unveiling of the mask, the first crack in reality. It all started at the auction.

“Look,” you say, holding up the plaque. 

“What if we... bid?” you suggest, the idea coming out in a rush, barely formed but somehow feeling right.

“Bid?” Lewis repeats, looking at you like you’ve gone mad. “What are you talking about? There's no auction.”

“No,” you insist, stepping closer, forcing the words out. “There was an auction. Remember? That’s how all this started.”

Charles swallows hard, glancing up at Mr. Hartley, who remains perfectly still on the stage. “What does that even mean?”

You lift the plaque high, your arm trembling, but you hold it steady. Mr. Hartley’s eyes fixes on you, like he’s only just now noticing you. His head tilts to the side, his shoulders lifting, jerking unnaturally, like a puppet pulled by strings. 

“Very well,” says a disembodied voice, echoing off every surface, as if the walls themselves are speaking. “You found the room.” The words bleed together, overlapping – a thousand voices speaking in unison, each word rippling through the air. “Now tell me your price.”

You swallow hard, the thing behind Mr. Hartley isn’t playing games anymore. It wants to know what you’re willing to give, what you’re willing to sacrifice.

A dozen answers flash through your mind, but they all feel wrong. You steady yourself, and take a breath.

“My price?” you say, holding the plaque a little higher. "My beauty," you say, the words clear and deliberate. "I'll bid my beauty in exchange for the mask."

The room goes deathly silent. Mr. Hartley’s head jerks again, and you hear a ripple of confused, overlapping murmurs – sharp, dissonant. The mask trembles on his face.

Screams pierce the air, distorted and echoing, like they’re coming from a great distance. The whispers that filled the room moments ago are now chaotic, panicked. You can feel the entity’s confusion, a raw and alien fear.

“That’s what you’re obsessed with, isn’t it?” you say, your voice stronger now. The words hang in the still air, cutting through the noise.

Lewis steps up beside you, fists clenched. “That’s right, you freak! We don’t care about your shit – none of it! We just want to go home!”

Charles nods, his face fierce. “Leave us alone!”

Alexandra is defiant and clear. “Keep your bullshit and let us go!”

The whispers turn into a wailing chorus, high and frantic. The lights overhead flicker wildly, the mannequins around you twitching, twisting in slow-motion like they’re caught in a loop. The mask cracks, a hairline fracture spreading across the surface, and you can see something shifting behind it – something dark, writhing, struggling to maintain control.

“You’re not ready for the dance,” the entity says, the voice no longer disembodied but coming directly from Mr. Hartley. It’s deeper now, colder. “This was a minor mistake, a mere misstep. I’ll let you go... for now.”

The ballroom around you starts to disintegrate, the set pieces falling away like ash, dissolving into nothing. The walls stretch, shudder, and then collapse inwards as if the world itself is being unmade.

“But you will come back,” the entity promises, its voice echoing through the crumbling room, reverberating in your bones. “And when you do, you’ll beg for my help. You’ll beg for what I have to offer.”

The world blurs, everything tilting and spinning, and then – 

You blink, and the cool night air rushes over you. You’re outside the villa again, standing on the gravel path, just as you were hours ago. The moon hangs high in the sky, distant and indifferent. The villa looks abandoned, its windows empty and dark.

Charles is the first to move, checking his phone. “I have reception,” he says, his voice shaky with disbelief. “We’re... back. It’s real.”

You look around – Lewis and Alexandra seem equally stunned, but there’s a quiet understanding between you now. Whatever that thing was, it’s not gone. Not really. It’s watching, waiting. But you survived.

“Come on,” you say, breaking the silence. “Let’s get out of here.”

You walk away, leaving the villa behind, never looking back. 

[theraddestfemalive]

Y’know what? Fuck it. I’m going to say this

I don’t think any non-gc or tra lib gives a fuck about what im about to say, even considering that im going to tag the cr fandom.

I’m only adding one radfem tag because this post is centered around another topic.

i feel like ever since the trans population has tripled, it hasn’t been the same. Before any of you cucks think im talking about the idea of being trans, im also talking about the community behind it. Their ideas within the concept of it.

the concept of being ‘transgender’ was built on the foundation of sexist stereotypes; although the origins had a different purpose in ancient societies (varying ofcourse), it was ultimately used as a weapon to oppress women in the modern times, the goal was to make a person ‘feel’ like a male or female and now trillions of micro labels and gender identities are used to describe people who feel slightly above the normal and they’re treated as if they’re some kind of clothes that you put on instead of an identity.

Because of this, most people don’t even know what a woman or a lesbian is. They try to replace the definition of something that was exclusive to one sex to cater to the whims of men.

Ever since last year, most my friends that weren’t into that shit now identify as trans and I saw a dramatic shift in their personality. Most if not all of them were autistic women that did not conform of societal standards of what a ‘woman’ is. Some people may argue it’s because of how lightly a transgender identity is perceived. But on my end, I think it also has to do with the lack of representation of quirky female characters in media.

likely I would’ve fit into one of those micro labels or some shit like that but I was lucky enough to discover characters and things that I aligned with so I didn’t have to deal with shitty gender dysphoria (alongside with my very obvious mental issues and me being neurodivergent myself)

When I look at the older cookie run art (2016-2021), or even from eastern countries (eastern countries aren’t really politically correct) I could truly see the characters in the scene. There is passion behind it. The artists are either older or they know what they’re doing. And it doesn’t seem like an overload

when I see newer cookie run ‘fanart’ esp when there’s a lot of people within the western community, I don’t see a lot of what the characters truly are. All I see is their interpretation of what their character would look like if it was an unoriginal copy of a 14 year old gendie’s oc. Alongside with that, they add a thousand headcanons and sexualities, making the character unrecognizable. And if that wasn’t the cherry on top, they’re so obsessed with lgbtq and race stuff (no im not a bigot, don’t even try to fucking label me as one im a bisexual woc ) that’s all what they talk about besides stupid discourse topics. Oh, and also changing a dough color is ‘racist’ (they’re fucking COOKIES. Their dough color was based off of their ingredients and complimentary colors, even the devs had to explain and yet the western community still bitches about it like whiny 5 year olds. They come in all colors, not just fucking skintones.)

I think the characters and ships of the community would be much more likable for me if it wasn’t infiltrated by the discourse gang.

I think instead of giving drugs and cosmetic surgery to children, we should get deeper into the psychology of why there’s a lot of trans people on the rise. Don’t you think it’s weird that it has to be an ‘urgency’ to get surgery or children will kts? Maybe instead of thinking it as a life or death situation, think of how most of these people are mentally ill compared to the other lgbtq demographics.

I probably sound like a fucking dick here and im going to get a lot of hateful notes and messages, but honestly.. idgaf

Before you water this down to ‘trans people bad’ im just highlighting the problems of their community and its immense effect on teens my age (13-15 age range im not telling you) before dickriding the movement, I think *again* we should get deeper into the psychology of these people, thank you for reading.

maybe one or two people know who i am because of the image i will show below, who cares lol

i will block if I receive any threats :)))

[anarmel]

hiya! just wanted to say i ADORE your dnd au for stranger things it is so captivating to see each art piece you've created (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

can i ask if there's any little headcanons or plotlines you'd be willing to share about it? I'd love to hear more but totally understand if not (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠) either way i appreciate the work you do!!!

Thank you for your kind words!(i read ALL tags) And sorry it took me so long I’m bad at writing hope you’re still interested)

I have entirely too much in my head for this AU and it’s ever evolving but I’m dog at writing stuff down because my brain gets like scrambled so I always forget what I want or write down and english is not my native language so my writing is blunt and sometimes i don’t have the right words for concepts i want to communicate and I overall suck at communicating but I do want to share something about this AU with someone who appreciates it so I will try)

This is my continent map and planar map for this AU because every official planar map in DnD is too unnecessary complex for my type of worldbuild:

This table is my basic ideas and info on characters (i change it all the time because I’m inconsistent and have new ideas every week) and I fucking love multiclassing it’s more storytelly

And i have a Pinterest board for this AU with visual clues and inspiration for the characters if you want to get a feel for that take a look: Link

Worldbuilding and character ideas(completely too long wall of text but I attached some old sketches for paragraph breaks):

Worldbuilding portion

I usually don’t like to put racism in my fantasy scenarios but The Empire is based on America with all the colonization and racism and all that so its there (reason: ST has too much themes that are purely American and if you take them out it’s kinda unrecognizable and some characters lose some experiences that effect their characteristic and choices they make. And the world needs to feel violently bigoted and secretive with governments that lie and do terrible things) but don’t look for direct correlation to real events. it’s like heavily inspired by America. i don’t want to erase racism and white supremacy and how it effects most if not all characters.

This Empire is under one of god pantheon(most of the faerunian pantheon with some exceptions). As one if the main worshiped gods that effect the story I chose Torm(the god of duty, loyalty, righteousness, obedience and law) and Bahamut(the dragon god of justice and a subservient deity to Torm). Empires are so greatly represented by dragons: massive gold hoarding uncontrollable and unstoppable and really hard to defeat. And because I want Tiamat dragon cults in the story. The list of allowed worship is limited some gods are outlawed some are just weird to worship and looked down upon. Most gods that are law and order based are great to worship

The Empire came as an expansion of an already existing Empire that represents one pantheon of gods that were at war with the Fey pantheon of gods and mortal rulers are continuing this expansion on mortal plane(even if mortal plane is abandoned and neglected by the gods). During war most Gates that connected Feywild with the Mortal plane were destroyed and in their place “Divine” Gates were built. The War of Establishment ended 200 years ago

The way my gods/worshiper interaction works is not as direct as I’ve seen in other campaigns. Paladins/Clerics get their power through tapping into residual celestial power that is left on mortal plane after calamity battles many ages ago and more advanced Paladins/Clerics can tap into celestial plane directly and it’s very rare for a god to communicate with their worshipers.

Empire general attitude towards different races(fantasy racism part… it’s worldbuilding okay):

Aasimar is the most respected race imbued with the divine blood most of the royals are Aasimar. Highest standing in society

Goliath are historically the giants that are the protectors of the divine. They are given opportunities other races are not. High standing in society

Humans are the basics as always. They have their hand in every pot.Mixed standing in society

Halflings were always a part of the empire. Infantilised in larger society. Mixed standing in society

Anything Fey is perceived as weird and inhuman and often fey magic and creatures are blamed for all manner of mischief and ills, ranging from petty vandalism and theft to outright murder and kidnapping.

But there’s a distinct difference between every elf group

High-elven culture is the one of the biggest ones that was crushed by the empire. Empire is built on elven ruins. Elves that didn’t escape to Feywild earned their keep in the empire by being great merchants because they knew to local surroundings and had established goods production and even with inter planar fey gates destroyed some elves had trade connections in Feywild. Being there from the beginning of the empire given some High Elves really high standing in society and more opportunities to build up their capital but at the cost of abandoning or suppressing their culture. Material plane High elves have purple/pink blood and similar skin under tones medium pointy ears(from living in the material plane for a while) Mostly culturally integrated. Mixed standing in society

Wood Elves mostly come from Beast Lands plane that lays between material plane and the Feywild and when empire conquest reached Feywild they stopped their war expansion on woods and wanted to build more of business relationship with the faerie court and the faerie court doesn’t care about the rogue elf tribes of Beast Lands that are being misplaced because they see the benefits of empire as a reluctant alliance instead of an enemy even if fey believe they could win the war if it comes to that . The Empire use the kidnapped elves as the laborers to build new empire cities across the continent. Wood elves have a distinct green skin undertones, green blood and large pointy leaf-like ears that make a Great War trophy and bringing a few souvenirs a soldier can show of is not that looked down upon. And high elves on large don’t associate with wood elves they are both seen as fey but different in “usefulness” in society. So wood elves have a low standing in the society but it’s slowly starting to change in some parts of the empire

Eladrin native to the Feywild and mostly are not present on the material plane and seen as distant trade partners.

Other elves(astral, aquatic, drow)exist but are not seen inside the empire

Gnomes is the other race that was native to the land the Empire took over they are integrated as the high elves and seen for their innovations and trade. But also they’re infantilised in society of larger races and sometimes are not seen as a full person but as cute creatures who are mostly helpful to bigger races. Mixed standing in society

Dwarfs mostly live underground in stone cities. I like Dragon Age lore for dwarfs so I’m incorporating it. True Dwarfs are not permitted to see the sky and those who do are considered sky walkers and still can serve as merchants of dwarven goods to the surface or can just go live as they want on the surface but they will never be considered true dwarfs and are not permitted in places of under mount worship of the Morndinsamman. They are not a part of the empire even if the mountains are on empire territory. Mostly seen as trade partners

Most of genasi populating empire are mixed. Air and earth genasi are the more accepted. Fire and water are not as much. Mixed status

Different Main Genasi tribes set up close to their respective elemental planar gates but those tribes all really different.

Air genasi mainly have a cloud city surrounding their gate populated by other avians but also have travel tribes that travel on cloud settlements.

Fire genasi are mainly nomadic with some preferring to live in a settlement near their gate it is considered their home base and if a fire genasi was outside it’s tradition to make their way to the gate at least once in their life

Earth genasi mainly have a permanent home under the mountain near their gate the city is populated by some dwarfs and rock gnomes

Water genasi live near their gate that is surrounded by mostly underwater country (enter a fantasy name for Soviet Union here)(?TSAR?) populated by aquatic elves, tortles, merfolk, tritons, simic hybrids and vedalken

Firbolgs are mostly nomadic small tribes and lived close to the fey gates so a lot of them were massacred during the war and there’s not much of them left. Perceived as fey and mostly forgotten because they live outside of cities.

Any half breed is looked down upon. A little anti-miscegenation in the mix to this horrible prejudiced bigoted world(just like the real one)

There’s also magic and class(DnD) discrimination

Any Divine and Radiant magic is praised so most of paladins clerics and monks are thought highly of in society

Any nature magic is looked down upon ether it be too fey of holistic and barbaric in the eyes of the divine

Barbarians if not zealots for the right gods or have right ancestors are barbaric and looked down upon

Sorcerers are usually put through governmental evaluations to find out their levels of danger those who deemed too dangerous go into maximum security prisons or are simply executed,those deemed controllable go into an educational program(less strict prison). Any sorcerer magic can only be used under strict control of a sorcerer’s keeper appointed by government.

Wizards studies and education mostly are behind walls of magistrates that operate separately from other government controlled magic institutes but for the greatness of the Empire. Arcane magic is controlled but not as strictly as sorcery

For Wizards to deepen their studies of magic there’s one option walls of magistrate a separate arm of the government specialized in arcane magics. Arcane magic is controlled but not as strictly as sorcery because it’s considered an intellectual and intelligent magic

Artificers are the inventors and move the world forward. Government gives grants to institutions of artificers for development of weapons and transportation for people without magic and such

Necrotic and blood magic is prohibited and outlawed

Character stuff(most of it is just like a starting position in the story that will never be)

Byers family. I wanted to make Joyce a merchant but then I came up with the idea of them being a grave keeper family for an old eleven graveyard, being just poor in fantasy settings is not enough for stigma they get (the monarchy class system is just too different everyone’s poor but the selected few…well not different at all but I wanted something different and more fantastical).

Joyce after escaping her abusive husband stared working for an old elven lady that owned the graveyard and not having any family of her own she let Joyce and her boys live on the property and when she left the mortal plane she left the graveyard to the Byers family. So in this world there’s a lot of stigma around anything fey but high elves are more integrated into society and Byers family looking over a spooky scary creepy and ancient fey graveyard filled with old dying magical remains can make the family ostracized and it brings a somber tone and a death theme to back up Wills story. Because usually grave keepers task is to make sure the dead stay dead and don’t turn undead. And Will is kind of undead after his stint in the upside down and that is his one more secret from his family and friends (I want a more magical and powers related secret for will to struggle with).

And Jonathan’s first iteration was a Chronurgy Wizard because I wanted to play with the theme of him capturing moments in time (like photos) but more I thought about him he is such a rogue and there’s Phantom Rogue that has an interesting trinkets system that you get by capturing souls of your defeated foes still has the same idea of moments being captured in a still object but Assassin suits too so idk. Maybe I should have made Byers Shadar-Kai instead of High elves. Maybe they as a family need a rewrite???

Hopper’s story is similar to canon grew up in Hawkins moved to a big city (W.D.C) for opportunity. Low standing Goliath have an opportunity to earn status through Arena (gladiator fights). Got married. And after losing his child and divorce he transferred back to his old town with status that earned him a position of chief.

El and Henry are both kalashtar (a compound race created from the union of humanity and renegade spirits from the plane of dreams(limbo)– spirits called quori) with the appearance of astral elves to play into the themes of alienness (E.T. glowing fingers and long glowing ears). A big meteor struck near Fort Hawkins and The Empire researchers stumbled upon a lost child named Henry (astral drifter who only looks young) that possessed powers that they wanted to research and use as potential weapons (like they use ordinary sorcerers). After some years of research Henry showed scientists where they can find more power. A research group with a military support was sent into the Astral plane they returned with several adult war prisoners and the experiments jumped a few levels in cruelty. Most “Main Experiment” children were bred and grown in a lab. Events that happen at the lab resemble what happens in the show. Some sketches of El and Henry I didn’t land yet on design that is set in stone (I don’t like how I draw their quori too literal):

Steve’s family is royalty. His dad is a king of the smallest province named Indwarim with the sit of power being in Fort Hawkins which is still not the biggest town it’s small and underdeveloped and was mostly built to separate the gate to Beast Lands from the Capital it doesn’t even have a “Divine” Gate (gate system that connects main cities of The Empire). The King of Indwarim is not known for spending time in his seat of power leaving it in the hands of his council and expects his son to take over his small province while he gets close to the emperor and climbs the social ladder closer to real seat power (Whitheirion Divine Court).

Steve is fond of all attention and admiration his royal blood and divine blessing brings but all his life he felt inadequate, people respect him for the things that were given to him by birth right and nothing he did or deserve. But who is he to complain about the easy life he lives so he enjoys all the positive attention that he can get and lets people bask in his light even if deep down he knows all they want is a crumb of prestige and power befriending a royal can give, Steve has never met a genuine person in his circles so he assumes that all people are like that everyone plays their part of court theater. Steve has his own masks so he understands them. He always had people around him that tailored him to their expectations and that keep him in check. In social circles he paints a picture of a royal you can find at all the parties that are worth attending with new arm candy every time, all masked in charm and light conversation, all surface no depth, not an intellectual but at least he’s martially gifted. He’s not fit for the system but plays it enough for it to benefit him, he’s not going to stand up to it. He doesn’t know who he is without others making him.

And I want Steve to have some kind of insecurity where he thinks he’s useless without his legendary weapon which is a stolen fey artifact that was claimed by empire and now one of Harrington’s family heirlooms (which Steve doesn’t know for a while) and later in the story he will return it where it belongs because it’s a right thing to do even if it strips him of his additional powers. (Some inspiration characters for D&D!Steve are King Arthur, Stella(Winx), Fjord(CR))

Robin is a miracle child to her older parents. They loved their little girl and given her all that they could while running a small but successful tailoring shop. I did make Robins parents fantasy hippies while well-meaning they appropriate the culture of fey creatures but don’t struggle with the stigma around it since they themselves are not fey and even benefit from it in their business because their designs perceived as exotic and “new”.

At 12 Robin come to realization that something is off about her and there’s things that happen to her that don’t happen to people around her and the desire to find out what’s wrong with her took her to the library and there she stayed studying anything that took her scattered interest. Meanwhile her parents put her into a music studies and Robin even gets to play at royal court a few times.

At 14 she come to the conclusion that she is a changeling a myth a child swap of the fey and since then she felt like she truly doesn’t belong in her family and believes that if her parents found out they would stop loving her and disown her. She keeps up her mask around her parents and doesn’t inform them about her discovery but unknowingly she keeps distancing herself from her parents.

At 17 she requests to go into a new Starcourt research center to start studying magic more seriously and spends most of her time as a scribe and even going on expeditions into the sea and forgetting her musical studies. At the Starcourt she meets prince Steve not for the first time who was sent to the magistrate to “learn humility and to appreciate his divine gifts properly and maybe it will make you more intelligent, Steve” and then it kind of follows the shows events. Some Robin sketches and a design of her parents that I’m not sure about they need to look older I think:

Eddie is a child of a warlock pirate and an elven druid. He’s a tiefling because of his father’s infernal contract that affect him physically.

In his early years he mainly lived with his mother on land with his father’s rare visits but one day his mom just didn’t return home (I want it to be ambiguous did she get into a situation and died or got murdered or raising a tiefling child alone without support in a judgment filled town got to her and she decided to run away from it? who knows? not Eddie that’s for sure and sometimes not knowing is worse especially when you have overactive imagination) Eddie is at home alone for several weeks afraid to leave and sleeps for most of the time to repress hunger. That is the state his father finds him in and has to nurse him back to health and they live on land for a month but living a stable life was never in the cards for Eddie’s dad so he decides that Eddie is mature enough to follow him in his adventures and learn what it means to be a true son of a pirate. His father has an ego and sees Eddie as a continuation of himself and his power but he does love him but never more than himself his freedom or his pursuits. Every time Eddie is trying to bring up his mother his father shuts him down like he doesn’t want to think about whatever happen to her, like she’s not here let’s move on kind of attitude. so no closure there.

When Eddie is around 10 his father goes to visit his brother with Eddie in tow for the first time. The relationship is strenuous but a favor his father asks of Wayne is just to look after Eddie when he’s gone on a big job that will change their lives. His father never returns. Eddie lives with Wayne and he feels like a burden to this man who didn’t even knew he existed several weeks ago. Wayne is a matter of fact battle hardened tough guy that was trying to find his stability after years of service (he was in an expedition to the astral sea among other things he did in the military) Wayne after his years as a sailor was recruited into a government sponsored mercenary group and he mainly joined to lift himself and his brother out of poverty while his brother chose a different path to that same goal. While in service his needs were accommodated but after the system has abandoned him with trauma and not as much money as he was promised. But with that money he got himself a small house in the least developed province of Indwarim on the outskirts of Fort Hawkins in an area named Forest Hills and got himself a job as miner the only job available to him. His settled life gets interrupted by his brother and his grand plans for a better life but this time he doesn’t try to bring him into it all he asks is to take care of his child for a while and that Wayne can do. Even if that while turns to years he’s not that bothered the child is endearing and if both of his parents are not there for him his uncle will step in as a parental figure to the best of his ability.

Oh and for his shaved off horn he has thousands of stories about that and he will NEVER admit that it was him at 13 childishly coming to a conclusion that his horns one of the main reasons he is different and rejected by society he wanted them off he wanted to look more like his uncle he wanted to fit in he wants the snide comments and dirty looks toward their family to stop. But not only was it painful as soon as he saw himself in a mirror he knew he made an awful impulsive mistake. He wants to hide it from Wayne for as long as he can so naturally as soon as Wayne gets home from his night shift he finds out. He sits Eddie down and struggles how to fully communicate to his kid that we are dealt a certain hand in life and we got to play it to its fullest potential and that his uniqueness only makes him that unique and people who don't see it through their prejudices they are the ones that are missing out. Uncle of the year. But Eddie being a kid takes it a little differently and just changes up his tactic of shielding himself. He cranks up his "uniqueness" to a 1000% and to be bigger scarier more attention garbing more repulsive than he is so no one would even try to go after him and his out of fear of consequences. He finds other street kids like him and they form a group power in numbers as they say. Hell Fire is formed.

When Eddie is around 14 years of age and alone at home old associate of his father Reefer Rick appears on their doorstep to inquire about money that his father owns to him and how will he get it when that fucker got himself imprisoned which is the first time Eddie hears the reason for his father’s absence. As Rick is mostly a smuggler and not a distributor he recruits Eddie for his plan to get his money without unnecessary harassment of his uncle and for Eddie to make some gold of his own all and all Rick know the kid and he's scrappy. All Eddie needs to do at first is leave some packages in particular places but if he wants to make more he has to get proactive and get new clients. And Eddie does want more in as he thinks the more gold he can make the more he will help to alleviate Wayne’s burden and Wayne doesn’t even need to know (Wayne will know really soon). And to make the most of his new gig he takes his bard troupe Corroded Coffin to the court as jesters and while entertaining the stuck up upper classes he makes a few sales.

Wheeler family is quite a wealthy family with their father working in some governmental transportation bureau and their mother being a stay at home mom.

Nancy became a small time volunteer agent to The Harpers the faction that she believes is good for the world at 14 as soon as she, by the power of her father's station, was allowed at court to find a husband and just live that court gossip live. Even that young she has her believes in order but she’s still a young girl who wants to live out her girlhood and build a good life for herself but that dream crushes when her best friend disappears under some suspicious circumstances and is presumed dead. Nancy's pursuit for truth takes over her life and she starts uncovering something bigger than court gossip something that she cannot take on alone even if she wishes she could. Armed with a gun that Barbara made for her and her strong principles she falls into a world of governments secretive experiments and what they lead to.

Mike…oh Mike he’s such a hard character for me to nail down. I saw a lot of people making him a paladin and I get that he plays a character that’s a paladin in the show but if I were to give Mike as a character D&D stats charisma is will not be his highest but it’s my opinion. He and Will are still childhood friends they met at the graveyard when Mikes curiosity won over and he’s gone exploring we’re adults said not to and fell into a grave where Will found and rescued him and then they became besties. Mike is situated by his father to work for a house that will help him get into a higher society and he gets to be an errand boy some days. He meets Dustin and Lucas when one of those errands goes sour and after their little adventure he introduces his new friends to Will and they form their little adventuring party

Sinclair's are a family of wood elves which is already hard under rule of the Empire but they make do and father of the family even earned himself a respected position in his hunting guild so they have it better than some but still surrounded by a lot of stigma.

Lucas has gone on some scouting expeditions with his father and likes to explore the forest by himself developing his tracking and hunting skills. One time exploring on his own he noticed smoke and what is smoke without a forest fire and went to investigate. He saw a small dwarf and a big mechanical cat on fire. After Lucas helped to extinguish the Steel Defender he met the dwarf properly he found out his name is Dustin and that the fire was caused by a failed experiment he for some reason ran in the forest. They became fast friends both fascinated by each other’s experiences and lacking any other friendships they gravitated towards each other’s weirdness. When he’s older l would expand on his relationship with Patric who is the most integrated into empire society wood elf Lucas ever met and Patric is kind of his mentor and that’s how his cleric powers find him and Lucas joins the greater divine order. He enjoys his new station and it makes him feel more accepted so he doesn’t understand why his friends have to shut his new side down and make him the bad guy for exploring himself and finding his place in this horrible world. Divine power doesn’t make you a bad person but it’s powerful and most bad people seek power and it’s unfair that Lucas’s new found power diminished by his friends by putting him in the “other” box. His people were one of the most oppressed by divine powers that be and by joining the order he wants some of that power back he didn’t create this situation he’s only trying to survive in society as best as he can and find a better life for himself and everyone he loves. It’s not the power that’s bad it’s the application.

Erica is another one of the characters that is hard to nail down for me. At first I wanted for her to be a druid that pretends to be a cleric and maybe it’s an idea that is still alive but making her rogue/ranger/monk makes more sense to me but it has less narrative I think. Because she as a character has this unearned respect for the empire (based on the quote “You can’t spell America without Erica”) She too seeks acceptance but goes around that really differently to her brother. She’s larger than life boisterous bold and even if she is unwanted she will power through it and insert herself in a place that she thinks she does belong. Fake it till you make it as they say. She’s really protective of her family and will not listen for your negative opinion of her but she will hear it and will try really hard not to internalize it. She’s still a child yet doesn’t show weakness as she supposed to through her hard exterior shell. She’s charismatic and smart beyond her years and has a clever jab for every situation. And it’s no surprise that she has a side gig as a mysterious bounty hunter information gatherer she will get you all information you need on your target and you will never know that job was done by a child (imagine puss in boots in Shrek 2 situation) she has a little bit of a reputation for being efficient and anonymous.

Dustin is half mountain dwarf on his mother’s side half rock gnome on his father’s side. His parents met when his father who works for a wealthy jeweler was send with an expedition to discover precious minerals and gemstones for a supply chain but instead of finding new deposits they stumble upon an undrermount dwarven settlement where they established a business relationship with a local gem carver and Dustin’s father established a relationship with a daughter and an apprentice of said carver. They fell in love and Claudia decided follow her love and live her life on the surface leaving the undermount behind. She is really overwhelmed by the sun and the openness of the space but with support of her husband she has a beautiful time living in Fort Hawkins. Her husband recommends her to his employer as she has unique dwarven expertise and style of making jewelry and working with gems. They make decent money and decide to expand their little family. When their boy is three years of age the father of the family passes away in an unfortunate work incident while visiting a work site a rock slide happens and takes the lives of several workers. Claudia is inconsolable but she puts herself together for well-being of her child. But every year that passes it’s tougher for her to leave the house and she slowly becomes agoraphobic the surface becomes too much without support of her husband she already worked from home and her employer doesn’t care if she is the one making the trek to deliver her product to and request raw material be delivered with the same boy she send. She has unique product and it sells.(I don’t know fully why I made her agoraphobic but the idea of juxtaposition of Dustin’s mom always being at home and available but in an unhealthy and kind of smothering way but always loving and supportive to her child despite their struggles and Steve’s parents that are never home and absent in his life is interesting to me story-wise) Dustin himself is a little engineering genius creating his first fully realized Steel Defender at age 11 despite his intelligence he’s not taken seriously in small artificer circles of Hawkins even by children his own age because not only he’s an uncommon half-breed which grants him a weird standing in society by birth but also he’s of a “small” race and that infantilizes him further so he always striving to prove himself by being the smartest person in every room he’s in which sometimes makes him insufferable and more isolated. That’s until he meets Lucas who is interesting to talk to and who is not afraid to give him shit when he steps out of line.

Mayfield's and Hargrove's. Niel Hargrove is a human noble of province Calafia his family secured most of their power through a secret chromatic dragon worshiping society (a cult) and even there he managed to stand out as Tiamat cults are usually matriarchal and Niel is not that fond of women in power. Even his first wife who is of northern aasimar clan is kind of his prisoner. After her death he took in a second wife, widow of his fallen friend Sam Mayfield, because they all together started an experiment with dragon blood and a child that Susan bore and he needs to see that thru.

Billy is half aasimar which already makes him insecure from birth like he's incomplete and unfinished but still he is superior to so many so why do the unworthy get any power at all when they don't know how to use it and some powers should not exist at all. To enhance his martial prowess his father makes him get dragon blood tattoos and to activate them and enhance his rage he needs to consume more dragon blood and he is hooked on high of that power when it streams through his veins he feels on top of the world. He feels like a King. He deserves to be one.

Max is born and its already a train wreck. Some of dragon blood in her gives her a partially scaly skin but apart from that she still looks human. Her step father tells her about her greater purpose and she goes thru brutal training she is told its to make her stronger but it only making her exhausted bleeding and afraid and from a young age she learns not to share her fears or insecurities as they will be used against her. At 13 her power gets out of control when she unexpectedly got injured in a public space and the whole family is forced to move to not get discovered as blood magic users they lose a lot of material possessions but their noble status is intact but they need to start from scratch in Fort Hawkins. After that incident Max is strictly guarded by her step brother a situation that they are both not happy with. Even before losing control like that she struggled with her powers what they mean for her and how dangerous they are if she does purse them so she pivots into developing a more controlled way to channel them which does not make her family that happy.

Basic Story

It all leads to a battle against The Far Realm (a plane of madness situated very far from the planes of the standard cosmology. This maddening realm was feared for its power to twist unfortunate visitors into gruesome monsters, and it was from here that aberrations came). A plane that Henry discovered through his talent as an Astral Drifter (someone that has traveled the Astral Sea for so long that they have lost track of the amount of time they have spent there. Aging stops in Wildspace, and it is not hard for adventurers to get lost in time during their travels. Astral Drifters have traveled to the far-flung corners of Wildspace to satiate their wanderlust. Along the way, they have crossed paths with everything from petrified gods to unspeakable monsters) So Henry got warped and combined with his quori spirit and declared himself an Aberrant God and as a being of Far Realm he seeks to consume it all and be the only power in the multiverse and he will go about it in a way that will make it final. The Celestial plane is the hardest to penetrate so at first he tried to go thru outskirts planes but it didn't lead anywhere so he found a stable connection to a mortal plane the plane that is the most interconnected with others. Limbo is his weapon. Through the plane of dreams he can influence most beings on mortal plane. He is the voice in the dark. He is the premonition. He is inspiration that comes suddenly out of nowhere. He is the Dream of greatness. He is The Voice Of God.

But mostly it's just the events of the show through a very heavy D&D lens but like with more character exploration and preferably with a more cohesive story but that's just in my head its been my night time story to myself for a while now.

Hope you enjoyed reading thru this shitstorm and I hope it makes some sense)

[scienceoftheidiot]

hello! thank you for the WIP tag! I'd love to hear more about 1923 💕

Aha no problem, I saw it was also about art (I don't know if you write?) so I'm 👀 in case you want to share any !!

Ahhhhhh 1923 is my other pet project with All the Hope. It's a long fic too, Royai, and I've been working on it for more than a year now.

I don't know how familiar you are with FMA 03 and Conqueror of Shamballa, but in those Ed and Al end up being stuck in our world in the year, you guessed it, 1923.

This stems from Ed meeting our world's Hughes there, and I kept wondering where Roy and Riza were...

So it starts with Ed meeting our world's version of Roy Mustang in 1923 Munich, but it's in fact just a frame for me to tell our world's Roy and Riza's (and other characters 😉 ) story, year by year, starting from the beginning. It adapts what happens in Brotherhood, btw, for our world, in a way. No spoilers lol.

I think it would have fitted to have Roy and Riza on the same side as Hughes, btw, but for a couple of reasons, including me being lazy, I've decided they aren't. All three however, even if they don't know each other (Roy and Riza do know each other from early on OF COURSE), have taken part in WW1, which is a big chunk of this fic.

I don't know what excerpt to share... so have the first meeting between Roy and Ed (if you want other parts like either character's childhood or the war or after the war, feel free to ask ! I can gush about this fic for hours and I've already written way too much in this reply haha). Also there's Falman there, so, for you lol.

"Are you going?" "Wish I could. But it's during my shift, and I need to put food on the table. With the prices rising…" Falman shrugs. "You want to go?"  "Of course! You think there's a fee? I'm on my last marks, too."  "You could try to sneak in."  "My, a librarian encouraging a kid to sneak into a science conference. That's the kind of people I like."  Edward stills and straightens at the voice that rises behind him.  "Whatcha got, here, young criminal?" The man's German is a little stilted, spoken as a foreign language most likely, but not enough to make his speech pattern unrecognizable.  A gloved hand – the glove is brown – reaches past Ed's shoulder to take the first book on the pile.  Ed turns around at once, to see Roy fucking Mustang open the book at random, squint, and put the book upside down on the counter so he can reach into a pocket inside his suit jacket. Falman has a desperate whine at the state of the book – there's no salvaging its spine now – but he's too polite to say anything. And Ed himself has too much trouble trying to close his mouth.  Well. Hughes was there. There ought to be a version of the colonel roaming around this world.  But. Still.  Oblivious, Mustang growls while rummaging through his pockets, taking out his gloves, setting his hat and his jacket on the counter, and laying an ebony cane with a silver handle against it.  Edward can't stop the words that cross his lips.  "Urgh, of course you would."  "Uh? Ah!" Mustang frowns as he pushes a pair of reading glasses on his nose, then takes the book again. “Ah, I knew it. Inorganic chemistry, uh?” “Yeah, and what about it?” Edward retorts, thinking the colonel – or whatever he is in this world – looks even more insufferable with these tiny glasses on. He doesn’t know if he wants to slap him or hug him, and the fact that he’s thinking about this last option makes him furious. 

Thank you so much for asking about this ! I hope you liked that and feel free to ask more if you want to know more haha ^^"

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary392

10/18-19/24

friday - saturday

listened to cryptograms by deerhunter, today

at the recommendation of a friend, i really love this song in particular:

though the whole record was rather good, very spaced out, lotsa droney songs on it, more ambient than i expected, bradford cox is good at those textures though. today i also walked to the grocery store, the wind was so annoying, my head hurts because of it probably now, and being tired, but i'll be less hungry/have more to eat... lots of yogurt in the house now at least. some oatmeal too. then some junk. that's not all...bread too, peanut butter... i wanna kinda just fry the bread w/ butter how you do w/ grilled cheeses and make stuff from that... not stuff, just, if i need sugar, maybe find the cinnamon and make a cinnamon + sugar mix and put that on the bread when i finish cooking it. because we have no toaster anymore. because the bugs got in it.

not a lot else today, kind of tired honestly, which is good, it's 2:30 am on the dot, i ought to sleep #now. but i did some stuff today, oh and i need to collect the selfies i liked. that first. here:

i love the clip on bowtie a lot. it says "horseshoe" after a casino... i can't tell if it's the old horseshoe or the other one called that. #stupid. felt very cute in that outfit, i really really like it, the belt goes with the bowtie, in a cute way, as well. it also feels very suited to me, like a mess of stuff almost.

okay, stuff from today, i drew, i also did a little song but it's just a loop... kind of just messing about with weird ideas. but here's the first drawing:

that's marina!! and rher, and perkele in the top right. i liked the idea of having rher be behind her because obv he's important to the game but also, he's sort of central to prehevil which is where she is from, and he's also this manipulate force, or his traces are all that lingers, he's sort of in this unrecognizable state, or his powers are not what they ought to be, and she can recognize that. perhaps it would have been best to put characters behind her who are more clearly related? not sure. also, i think this is maybe the first piece of fanart i've ever created??? i don't know. very rarely do i do things like this. i'd like to do more related to fear and hunger...

here's the other drawing:

this was simply something i started doodling, and it turned to this. i like it, it is very disorienting to look at, i'm very happy w/ that gingham pattern back there. it maybe does more heavy lifting for the image than its actual content.

i'm thinking about posting the marina drawing tomorrow with tags or something, but i'm also not sure about what the point would be. whatever... i'll probably wake up and do it anyways.

now though, i should sleep, i do feel much better than i did yesterday, also,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cleromancy]

firstly

secondly. dude, like. jason and roy are my two favorite comic book characters of all time. we all knew the reboot was going to be a dumpster fire but when they announced rhato i *really,* really wanted it to be good. and then just when it came out it was not even fucking readable on a sentence level, roy and """"'kori""""" are unrecognizable and just jasons fucking backup dancers... tbh a phrase that lives in my mind rent free is someone described it as "jason todd and the hee-hoo smooth brain parade" which is so fucking funny forever thank you so much, the internet. anyway, me quitting comics for literally an entire decade boiled down to 1/4th regressing barbara and 3/4ths snott fucking blobdell.

HOWEVER. LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I WAS INVESTED IN THE IDEA OF ROY AND JASON WAY BEFORE THE REBOOT WAS EVEN ANNOUNCED. WAY BEFORE FLASHPOINT WAS ANNOUNCED EVEN. it is not in fact a huge leap to make when you consider how jason *does* kind of skulk on the fringes of dick's life without actually being willing to make an overture that isn't obscenely convoluted and/or bonkers insane. and also honestly Roy's whole like. personality. like to oversimplify it--jason kind of fucking combines grant Emersons and cheshires whole deal into one fucked up traumatized murderbaby. roy is absolutely going to start caring about him if given half a chance.

and i actually do think, if you force me at knifepoint to accept that cry for justice/rise of arsenal *happened,* and put me in the rubble there with roy trying to figure out where to take his character (... again, preboot) i do think jason would be an ideal character to bounce him off of, and personally *eye* would love for a deep friendship to happen out of that disaster but really who could say where that would go! the skys the fucking limit.

also the reason the tags are so overblown with jason and dick playing tug of war with roy ship war bullshit is, (mild wfa spoilers) the new ummm fast pass or whatever ep of wfa has dick and jason doing a really silly goofy pissing contest bc they're trying to win roy and lians attention from each other. and instead of being like "wow haha this is so silly goofy they are sooo cutes and stupid, obviously roy wnd lian care about them both" fans immediately took the opportunity to have a pissing contest with each other over which batboy has custody of the emotional support harpers, and its like. wow this place is a freakshow. i dont respect literally any of you people

i do think that insisting we should ~let~ jason get his own ~stuff~ instead of just ~stealing his big brother's~ (real actual opinion regarding jasons friendship with roy i had to see with my own two eyes) ... is coming from a very bland and ahistorical place wrt jason characterization.

like, not even going to start talking about brothers in blood bc im not going to ask you to take the "tentacle monster jason steals a nightwing suit and vores a guy" arc seriously for characterization choices...

but look, i really don't think it would be wrong to call jason the hand-me-down robin. for a while jason inherited what dick either left behind, or else walked behind him in his shadow. and looking at preboot jason specifically, post-resurrection jason has a complex relationship to the relics and symbols of the past--and what they mean to the tragedy of his life and death--where they simultaneously make him angry, he resents them, but also he actively surrounds himself with them at all times. it's part of his whole thing where he's purposely making himself a revenant; this is not something he's likely to give up doing as long as he's going by the name the red god damn hood.

anyway. robin. ...can i just say nuff said? whether its the copy-pasted circus background strawberry blond colorswap jason or how being robin gives him magic, robin was this whole thing for him, you might have heard about it. probably you can draw the connections yourself.

but as far as hand-me-down friendships go--this is, very explicitly in the text, the deal with jason!robin and donna in their very moving situation in new teen titans. she saw the uniform and wanted to react as though he were dick and look to him to lead, and at the time Jason's not at all offended, but he does have to establish that. he's not dick, which was what she was looking to him to be. and they do rekindle their relationship after jason is resurrected but ummmmm. it was in countdown lol. there was a lot going on in countdown.

anyway jason and *barbara* is significantly less on-the-page than jay and donna--btw all of this is preboot do not talk to me about post-reboot barbara. i am not joking--but he did fall into a friendship with her too, and what few interactions we do have from that time are both really cute and very reminiscent of robin-dickie and babsgirl. on top of that barbara was his tutor, and she was one of the (counting on my fingers) four. i believe. people at jason's funeral. shes notably absent *during* under the hood except for a conversation bruce and dick have about how she washed her hands of them lmao, and jason explicitly making a parallel btwn what the joker did to him and to her in the climax. after that i don't recall any incidents of her mentioning him or anything like that... not off the top of my head anyway.

anyway. there is also, of course, bruce. according to starlin, who we hate, something something bruce was lonely and missed dick so he scooped a new orphan off the street. whatever starlin. wolfman also toys with this idea but with significantly more nuance, leaning into the ways bruce might be different with a second war-- oh, excuse me, what was that?

yeah see bruce actually adopted this one

which is where the hand-me-down thing starts quivering trembling falling to pieces. it is, i think, a pretty fair reading of *whistles* the time period immediately before, up through, and after the crisis was redefining bruce and dicks history together to take it as... bruce was a lot less complicated with jason than he was with dick. not out of loving dick any less, because. well. bruces interpersonal issues have never stemmed from a deficit of love for the people he hurts, and lets down. and i do think thats a whole nother post, and its certainly not the only reading even just of the bits of canon im referencing right now, but for the sake of argument just suppose bruce was more consistent, and tbh *way* more of a dad, to robin-era jason than he was to dick.

but jason, i think, was too young to get that, without also the outside perspective that would let him see that bruce and dicks relationship wasnt *just* strained bc dick left. that actually maybe dick and bruces relationship was, fundamentally, a whole different animal than what jason had with bruce.

and we do have indications that jason saw dick as a perfect example he could never live up to (remember when i said i wasnt going to get into brothers in blood. Well i lied. its almost as gauche as it is outlandish). and as interesting as it is to consider how jasons perspective would have developed as he grew up if he had that stable loving relationship with bruce--and, imo, personally experienced it falling apart in real time the way dick did--thats not whats on the page. so, again, we have jason and these relationships and perspectives from before his death, frozen forever, and we have jason the revenant wreaking havoc on two relationships in particular--the one with bruce, and the one with dick--and, for the most part, leaving the others from before his death alone. (iirc, he pretty much stumbled into the thing with donna instead of seeking her out... don't actually take my word on that one though.) even alfred--and we do actually have interactions that support that they were pretty close, it's not just fanon; among other things theres a tear-jerker that culminates in alfred and jasons ghost having tea together--jason doesn't especially make any attempt to connect (or menace, as the case may be) except for the fucking rare first edition book thing, which was 100% about bruce anyway. god i love the fucking first edition book thing.

anyway. after his big bad master plan very literally blows up in his face, jason proceeds thereafter to rattle around the dc universe(s), deeply lonely and ever so fucking unwell, aimlessly menacing people, causing ruckuses, being a scoundrel, etc. also! murder. lots n lots of murder. he's a busy little bee. (for the record--anytime someone says jason tried to kill someone, go ahead and double check that for yourself. imo the only time A Wild Jason Attacked! and its actually ambiguous whether he expected them to survive--preboot--is battle for the cowl. generally speaking when jason puts his whole hoodussy into killing someone, he succeeds.) (battle for the cowl is also, for the record, one of the worst books detective comics comics has ever fucking shat out. worse than the tentacle monster jason vore arc, which is at least FUN. ----and also, i do think its worth noting that both possible victims of gun batman [large version, not to be confused with gun batman small version], tim and damian, are up and about pretty soon after what do look like potentially lethal injuries. it's just like. we don't really know what was going thru tony daniels mind at the time. like *if* tony daniel had any thoughts at all, its entirely possible all he had between his ears writing/drawing it was lint and elevator music.) (this isnt even me being a jason apologist, this time anyway. i think if jason had killed tim for real that would have been high camp. battle for the cowl is just so goddamn badly written and stupid.)

anyway. no, i don't think what jason needs is to Stop Stealing Dick's Friends. i also think that "he was dicks first >:(" re roy is the dumbest argument ever to say as a person reading comics, but also extremely funny bc. well. dick would agree with you. dick would love it if jason got his own friends and left his (not jason's >:()(dick's)(dick's friends) alone. however like. dick grayson is not well. i know i distracted you by talking at length about what an absolute basket case jason is, but dick is also an insane person and prone to irrational jealousy and can not, and should not, get everything he wants. sorry dickie but the good news is: theyll still be your friends even if they're also jasons friends. and, given the fact that jason is extraordinarily prickly and difficult to get along with (on purpose), theyll probably even still like you better.

anyway look. what it boils down to is, post-resurrection jason as a character will always be defined by his own death. not only is it the central trauma of his life, he actively remade himself around it. and part of that is how he relates now as the self-made revenant to the hand-me-down pixie boots he used to fill. and you want him to completely stop doing this...why? because itd be "healthier"? what are you, a cop?

but no really like. yeah actually i do want jason to make some better choices, be on the stable side, be a fully developed antihero who poses a moral counterpoint to the bats, asks difficult questions, causes problems on purpose but not in a way where he's purposely burning down everything he loves, etc. i do want those things. but i think ripping him away from his past makes (...made...) him unrecognizable, and generic, and doesnt really take the character in an interesting direction that actually tracks with the character concept established in under the hood and developed (such as it was) in the *waves hands* aforementioned stories. according to ~me~ anyway, obviously when it comes to writing everyone can do what they want forever, unfortunately up to and including my enemy scott lobdell who i would dearly love to kill with a rock. for his crimes.

did i ever actually explain why i think its interesting & compelling for jason personally to keep throwing him at dicks friends? ...maybe not. but i did lay some groundwork and talk about one of my favorite boys. and in the end well roy is one of my other favorite boys so like. stream green arrow, vote worlds finest: teen titans, put your money where your mouth is and support our boy. (i am referring to roy obviously. jason can die in a ditch.)

[thithesandofferings]

Uuuuh Yandere Ryuki Gaoh oneshot? I'm inspired by you're writing and i'm desperate for ryuki lmao, any pronouns that you're most comfortable with, plot is up to you!

Thanks!!

I know you wanted Gaoh, but i...may have gone a little overboard....Anyways here ya go!! Thanks for being so patient with me!

@indoleen

:::Yandere Kengan Crew:::

:::Tags: NSFW 18+ A little nasty, but when is it... not. Yandere themes, Semi-public themes (they really dont gaf). Captivity. Stockholm Syndrome. Overstimming. Edging. Adam being a dick.

Yandere Kengan Crew

Ohma- is the type of person to when he wants something, he gets it. And he wants you. God does he want you. Talking to you does absolutely nothing to help him. Every time you talk, his eyes just wander to your body, to you mouth. Wants to feed you his cock, stuff you full until you pass out. Wake you back up just to do it again. And he knows you'd let him. You have no idea how much he thinks about burying his cock in you. Doesn't really care for the guys you talk to, but wont ever say anything. Will just leave to go wrap his hand around his cock and thrust harshly into his fist. Gritting his teeth and groaning when he thinks about coming over that sweet, pretty face of yours. Imagines how many positions he can twist you in, the best ways to make you cry for him. Ohma has to swallow his desire and rage when someone knocks on the door. Its you, he can smell it. You and your caring words and concerned look on your face. Makes him want to ruin you stand. Physically pushes himself out of your line of sight, because you're alone and you care- it will have to wait until after the match. Grabs you after his win, takes you somewhere quiet- not listening to your stuttered questions. He groans with unfiltered relief when he slides into you. Likes seeing you on top of him, taking his cock like you were made for him. Takes your hand off your mouth when you try to cover your growing sounds. "No" he simply says and fucks into you deeper and harder, wanting to see you scream. Buries his head into your neck when you start to go a little slower, making him feel all of you, all of your gentleness. Yea, this is exactly what he needed.

Gaoh- is less than kind when he aims for something. He sees you hanging around and wants you immediately. Follows you without saying much. But you think he has a pretty nice disposition, so you don't say anything. Honestly, you feel safer with him than anyone around. You shouldn't. But you put your guard down and you talk to him, compliment him, telling him how strong he is. That you bet he has no problems picking you up and carrying you around if you're tired. In his mind, that's his invitation to touch you, devour you. Gaoh is sorry that he went a little berserk on the guys. But he saw blood on you and then there was nothing. Not only did they catch you off guard, but they thought they they could touch what was his. They're unrecognizable now, and you're whimpering in his shoulders as he carries you. He can hear you thanking him and clutching unto him harder and he blanks out again. He doesn't really care that he goes in too fast, his thought processing has been silent ever since he felt how wet you were. How you took a few of his fingers with such ease. He'll bully his cock into you if he has to. But he wont, you’re so delicate. He’ll take care of you. With you under him, grabbing and whining on him to hurry up and you've waited too long- well who is he to deny you. Beware that he is not stopping, doesn't care if your wall are squeezing so tight to hurt; There is no one else. There will never be anyone else after him.

Imai- So maybe you've been in a cage for awhile, you keep running- how is he supposed to watch you when he's at practice or matches? God you look so pretty begging. Begging to be let go off, begging for him to listen, begging…for you to come. That's his favorite one he thinks. When he's 3 fingers deep, holding your hips down as he rubs maliciously against your spot over and over and over again. Only for him to let go entirely right before the orgasm. He likes when you kick and scream in frustration. Eats you out for his pleasure, not yours. Likes to spread you in a mating press to lick every inch of you, humming into your hole when you beg him to let you come. Ruts and comes all over you because of it. He knows you haven't come in a year, but you're his good pet right? You'll hold out until he tells you to. Cosmo is always over the moon when you accept his kisses. So much spit and come, holding your jaw open so just to see him pour a the evidence of your desire back into your mouth. Clinging to him and whining, and when you pull his hair? Makes him so hard so fast. Making sure he angles your hips to bump into him. Kisses your nose and tells you how sweet you are and maybe you will get to come this time.

Adam- Absolutely ruthless to you. So mean, his words are harsh and his bruises are harsher. You always have hickies on your neck and in-between your thighs. Darkened hand marks are basically built in your ass from all of the spanking. He owns you. Keep your head down and don't ask any questions- don't answer them either. He may be a little possessive yea, but you are his toy- no one else's. He's won you fair and square and he prepares to make it worth his while entirely. Yea, you're cute, but you take cock like a champ in his personal opinion. Always ready and open for him like you should be. Clothes are for special occasions, but there is never a special occasion. He's the only one you should be looking forward to. Adam thinks that you should always be ready to take his dick, doesn't matter if you're cooking or not-bend over. Secretly likes when you squeal and protest no, but still open your legs and grab towards him. Likes when you moan and beg for more when he pulls your hair. Fucks you in the back of the locker room after every match, doesn't matter if there is someone in there. Your back digging into the locker as he fucks hard into you, using your body to make him come. No no, you don't deserve to talk. Use your mouth for something better- like swallowing around his dick. Better yet, Cosmo's here, how about you show him what Adam bought you for.

[miyagihawk]

i don’t even know you anymore pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

a/n: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so here it is!! some hawk redemption :)))

warnings: a bit of swearing, mentions of violence maybe

summary: after your bad breakup with hawk, he wants a second chance

word count: 1,547

It’s been months after you and Hawk split, and you could confidently say that you’ve moved on.

It wasn’t easy; his group kept ruthlessly attacking your friends. It was like he wanted to make your life a living hell.

After that horrible fight at Golf N Stuff, watching Demetri’s arm get broken compelled you to join Miyagi Do. You never wanted to feel helpless again when your friends are in trouble.

Karate helped you move on. You became confident with yourself and instead of focusing on your break up, your mind was on self improvement. Seeing Hawk stoop down to his lowest level also helped; you wanted to be better than him.

“What... the hell?” you gasped.

As your friends arrived at your lunch table, they looked like they got trampled by a zoo. They almost looked unrecognizable with the amount of bruises and cuts decorating their faces.

Sitting down painfully, Sam said, “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Well tell me! What happened last night, you guys look insane! Are you okay?” you exclaimed, worried and protective about your friends. They all looked so worn down, not meeting your eyes.

Last night, Miguel and Sam were planning on inviting both Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang over to “combine forces” against Cobra Kai. But you felt sick, so you couldn’t make it.

Your mouth fell slightly open as another person came up to the table.

Him.

What is he doing here?

No one was answering you, but you couldn’t blame them, they probably had the worst night.

Ignoring Hawk’s gaze on you, you got up from your seat and walked around the table to Miguel. You grabbed his arm and he winced. “Sorry,” you apologized, leading him out of the cafeteria into the hallway.

“Miguel can you just tell me what happened last night, who did this to you? And why is he here? I couldn’t make it one time and this happened, god, you couldn’t have texted me or someth-”

“Y/N, Y/N please calm down,” Miguel placed his hands on your shoulders, and it was only then you realized how hard you were breathing.

“Look at you. Look at everyone,” you felt your eyes tearing up. You were angry and frustrated, at yourself for not being there. Maybe you couldn’t have done much, but you still could’ve helped.

“Hey, I’m okay, alright? Everyone’s fine, just relax,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “Cobra Kai came last night.”

“What? To Sam’s house? How did they even-”

Miguel cut you off before you could ramble again, “I don’t know. But they showed up and it was like the school fight part two. Don’t worry though, they look pretty bad too. And we won,” he smiled.

“So why is... he... with us?” You looked over his shoulder through the cafeteria entrance where Hawk sit awkwardly with your friends, looking out of place.

“He helped us Y/N. I know things between you guys didn’t go down so well but I do believe he wants to change,” Miguel explained.

You tried to imagine Hawk fighting alongside Sam and Demetri, but it felt wrong. He’s done too much damage and you don’t think you can forgive him for any of it. How could they forgive him?

“Look, I lost Eli to Hawk too. I was friends with both of them. So I know that he’s being genuine. He wants to be better,” Miguel tried to convince you, leading you back to the cafeteria with him. “He also still cares about you, Y/N. I think you were the main reason he left Cobra Kai.”

You didn’t say anything, you just pondered on his words.

Could that be true? Hawk still cares about you? Then why did he put you through all this? Why now would he leave Cobra Kai for you when you aren’t even together?

You sat back down at the table, head hurting from all the questions you want the answer to.

There he was, sitting across from you. The only one who could really give you the answers. But you acted like he wasn’t there.

-

The first practice with Miyagi Do, Eagle Fang, and a tiny bit of Cobra Kai had just been dismissed. It ended early because it started raining, and you were all outside.

It went well. It definitely felt good to have a full team and that one less rivalry was gone.

But there was still a lot of awkward tension between you and Hawk. You guys had carefully avoided each other; you were never less than 5 feet apart and when you accidentally made eye contact, you both looked away in a millesecond. 

You said goodbye to your friends, putting up your hood over your head to prepare for your wet walk home.

You didn’t mind the rain, you actually loved it. But despite the Valley being known for its good weather, the winters were still harsh and frigid.

You hugged yourself with your arms as shivers shook your body. The sound of a car pulling up made you turn around; your first thought being that someone might kidnap you.

But the red car was familiar and you refrained from running away. The window was rolled down and Hawk’s face was revealed. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m walking home,” you say bluntly, and start continuing your walk. His car follows beside you, matching your pace.

“It’s cold as shit. Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” Hawk offered.

“No thanks,” you said, not even looking at him.

As you quickened your stride, you heard his car engine turn off and his door open then shut.

He caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking. “Get in the car,” he demanded, and you just rolled your eyes.

“Why would I get in the car with you?” You laughed mockingly and he swallowed. Raindrops were falling on his eyelashes and he looked pretty, but you shook away the thought.

“Fuck, why are you so difficult. You’ll get sick, just come on,” he pulled you towards him, then without thinking your karate reflexes kick in and you hit him in the chest.

You almost feel bad, but he steps back, with an almost proud and amused smile. He thought it was cute.

“Why do you care?!” you raised your voice over the rain.

“Y/N I-”

“Why? You didn’t care for all of these months! Why now? You didn’t care when I wanted you to stop hurting people, why do you want to change now?” You bombarded him with all the questions that have been swirling around in your thoughts for days.

“I did care! I do care. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. Just please get in the car and we’ll talk about it,” Hawk pleaded, reaching out for you again, but you pull your arm away. His jaw clenched from your rejection.

“And I still loved you! Through it all! You broke Demetri’s arm, one of my best friends. He was your best friend too! And I still missed you! Do you know how horrible that feels?” you continued letting out your anger. All of the things you’ve wanted to say to him are spilling out of your mouth and you don’t even notice your tears.

His eyes were starting to brim with tears too, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the rain.

“I am sorry Y/N. For everything. I’ve never stopped fucking loving you and I missed you too. Like hell. I can’t take back what I did to Demetri but I’m trying, I’m trying to fix it,” he confessed, moving in closer to you.

“You’re a liar...” you hit him in the chest, but he didn’t budge. “You can’t say that... that you love me, you’re just a huge fucking liar!”

Before you could hit him again, he stopped your hands and put his arms around you. At first you tried to squirm out of his embrace, but eventually you gave in, letting out full sobs of heartbreak.

You missed this. His warmth and his soft skin. The way he rests his chin on the top of your head and how he rubs your back to soothe you. You hated the way you were just giving in, but you didn’t have it in yourself to pull away.

“You were right about all of it. I wasn’t myself,” he murmured into your hair. He missed holding you too, and he wondered how he went so long without doing so.

You looked up at him with your glassy eyes. His hair was drooping down from the mohawk because of the rain and he looked more like Eli.

The rain was still pouring down on both of you, but you had gotten used to it. Still in his arms, you were no longer shivering from the cold.

You lifted a hand up to place on his cheek, and you admire the kind blue eyes you’ve missed looking into.

You pushed your previous anger away and pressed your lips against his, revelling in the feeling of reuniting with your lover. You missed him so much. You got butterflies as you two moved together perfectly and he smiled against your lips.

“I never stopped loving you too, Eli.”

okay here’s a tag list for the people who wanted a part 2 :))) thank you so much for reading and feel free to send in any requests!

@rosiahills22 @sinicalh4wk @lina-lovebug @rudypankow-whore @miyagifang @blvxktvmmx @lulu-yuming @melinda-hargreeves @emmyboo019 @lllyyysss02

[fairlyang]

Gatita🕷️

you get recruited and slowly convince miguel you're on his side

w/c: 12K

pairing: miguel o’hara x blackcat!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of guns, blood, murder, death, grief. teasing, seducing, goes both ways, tension, slight choking, groping, kissing, interrupted, more tension, caves in, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), size difference, more choking

notes: my longest fic up to date which is a bit sad bc I think she flopped bc the hornies hate reading more than 1K sometimes 💀

The notorious Black Cat of New York but also happened to be the city's very own Spider Woman. An incredibly unexpected combination but what can one do when kidnapped by Kingpin and are forcibly meant to be his Guinea pig?

Then almost right after escaping getting bit by a radioactive spider....

On the bright side who else was able to rob banks and also be able to stop other criminals from doing so, before she gets to hit them herself? None other than yourself, of course.

You kept your two different lives separate, to the best of your ability anyway. Obviously no one was able to stop the infamous Black Cat or retrieve all the things she'd steal. Spider Woman on the other hand, stopping every other criminal or asshole on the streets, besides your alter ego.

You were going to hit up a jewelry store, to steal a few brand new diamonds for yourself. In your oh so casual Black Cat attire that consisted of a black spandex suit with the matching mask covering your eyes, along with the realistic long silver wig.

You were somewhat unrecognizable, but it wasn't like anyone from your personal life was gonna be robbing banks or jewelry stores. Or be anywhere near when you would be robbing one. There'd be no reason for anyone in your life to see you when you were doing Black Cat activities.

Or so you thought, before your whole world came crashing down.

I quickly turned off the security system in the jewelry store from the alley right next to it, I grabbed my bag of goodies and I hid my special tablet behind some trash before quickly going inside by the side door. It was vacant, as expected.

I went to the back of the store and look at the cases with the newest necklaces and rings embedded with shiny diamonds. I trail a finger along the glass and look down at the casing filled with only diamond rings.

I walked along the back of the store, looking at everything, the shiniest of rings and earrings until I spotted the most gorgeous necklace.

Filled with diamonds shaped like flower petals all along the neckline with a leaf shape hanging down with more diamonds embedded on its shape, with a red ruby sitting perfectly right in the middle of it. My eyes flicker with admiration and want, I needed it. I take my bag off from my shoulder and place it on the floor quickly opening it to grab something to open the case. Then I stop and stand up walking to the back of the case and scoff. The key.

What kind of dumbasses leave the fucking key out?

I shrug and roll my eyes unlocking the little door and take the necklace out carefully. No alarm.

I close the case and walk back to my bag and stuff it in one of its pockets then zip it up. I pick it up putting the strap back on my shoulder and walk around the store, stopping when something caught my eye.

I walk over to it and chuckle. How ironic... a gold necklace with a spider hanging out and yet another red ruby being held by it's arms and legs.

How could I not?

I grab a small tool with a pointy end and walk to the back of the counter. I kneel down and quickly unlock the little door and in just a few seconds it clicks open. I slide the door open and grab the necklace admiring the pretty ruby.

I stand up and grab a few other pieces then walk around the counter and back to my bag. I put them all in another pocket carefully then close it shut. I wrap my bag around my shoulders and head towards the side door, not really wanting anything else. I open the door and close it quietly before making my way to pick up my tablet from where I left it.

Sure enough it was there and I quickly turned the security system back on before using a web to swing up onto the roof of a building.

I always tried to be careful when using my webs but considering it was past 1am and it was empty out, i didn't have a care.

I walk along the edge of the roof looking at the view, admiring all the buildings and the glowing moon right above them. I jump onto the next roof and continue walking, keeping an eye out just in case. I jumped off roof to roof for about an hour, patrolling around, nothing out of the ordinary happening so i decide to make my way home.

I was a bit far from my apartment so I started swinging in the direction, feeling the cold breeze and going through the dimly light streets when my spidey senses go off when I'm one block away from my place. I swing on top of a roof and look down at an alleyway and widen my eyes to see my best friend, Ben getting mugged.

I curse under my breath and feel my heart start to race. I put my bag on a corner of the roof and look down before carefully climbing down a set of pipes, unbeknownst to the muggers.

I was right above them now and I take a deep breath then jump on top of one, knocking him off Ben and giving him space to catch a breather. I punch his jaw once I tackled him down to the floor then continuously punch him in the face against the hard floor.

I stand up and turn to look at the other guy and he gripped his gun. Ben had taken a few steps back making me feel a tad bit more calm. I sprint towards the bad guy somehow catching him off guard and kick him in the balls instantly making him groan and drop down to his knees.

I punch him on the stomach multiple times as hard I can, not able to control myself, almost like I needed to make sure he wouldn't be able to hurt Ben. Then I hear his voice and I feel his hands on my shoulders. "Hey- hey hey it's fine- I'm good now- it's fine." He says with widened eyes as we both look down to see the man with blood coming out of his mouth, his breathing slow.

I step away from the man and try to control my rapid breathing, before turning to Ben and asking in a softer voice, "are you okay?"

"Yeah- me? Oh yeah I'm fine, I'm good- I- uh-thanks..." He trails on and I take a deep breath.

"Black Cat." I say and look down at my masked hands covered with blood.

"Right! Thanks a lot- I uh just didn't expect 'em-" he savs and I cut him off.

"Of course." I say in my normal voice and I mentally curse myself, he can't know.

Suddenly my spidey senses go off and I turn around withdrawing my talons and claw at the guy behind me but not before hearing a gunshot. I feel my heart drop and I widen my eyes looking down at the gun.

I pull it out of the man, his body instantly dropping and turn around to see Ben covering his stomach then slowly starting to fall. I quickly run to him and was able to catch him, as we dropped to the floor, and my hands immediately going to put pressure on his wound but he was losing blood fast. "Hey look at me- B-Ben- keep your eyes on me- please-" I cry out, already feeling the hot tears streaming down my mask.

"'Wha-" he tries to say but I shake my head and bring a hand up to cover his mouth.

I bite my lip and then take my other hand off his stomach. I carefully take off his jacket and make him press it against his stomach. "I-I"

I bring my hands up to take off my mask and I look down at him with a sad smile. His eyes immediately grew wide and he tried to speak again but I shake my head. "You're gonna be okay- I promise-" I whisper and then move my hands back onto his stomach, the jacket already being soaked by his blood.

I swallow back a sob and wipe my tears, trying so hard to remain optimistic, "Don't waste your energy okay? I promise you'll be okay." I say breathless and he just shakes his head.

I feel my heart break into pieces and more hot tears stream down my face. "It's okay." He whispers and holds onto my hands, slightly gripping them.

"N-no- no B-Ben p-please-" I cry out and he lets out a small smile.

"It's... okay..." He says slowly and I see how slow he's breathing now.

I look down at his eyes, and he lightly squeezed my hands and nods. I curse under my breath and shake my head, "I'm so sorry-"

He coughs, some blood coming out, then shakes his head, "it's.. not your... fault..." he whispers making me want to cry even harder.

"I love you." I whisper and hold his hand softly.

"I love you." He murmurs and then his eyes close. His grip on my hands loosened completely and his breathing stopped.

I'd never felt such heartbreak in my life, I've never dealt with instant grief like this, or anger at myself. I cradled him in my arms, now silently crying unable to move and slowly not able to breathe. I started sobbing uncontrollably after looking down at his face, what was always so happy and lively was now never going to look at me, scold me or roll his eyes at me.

I stayed like that for who knows how long until I heard a noise behind me. I turn and look at the man who murdered my best friend, slowly crawling away, letting out groans for every little inch he moved. I move Ben's body to lay down flat on the floor before standing up and taking a few steps towards the fucker who just took my other half from me. I grab him and turn him around, slamming him against the concrete and make him look at me. With pure anger and malice I withdraw my claws and in an instant slash at his face then withdraw a talon again, lifting it up and stabbing him in the heart repeatedly.

I stopped after my arm started to hurt and I looked down at the mess. My body started shaking and I look down at my talon, hands, legs. All covered in blood. I shake my head and walk back to Ben, moving the hair out of his face and making sure his eyes were closed.

I let the tears fall down as I looked at his face, how much I'd miss his contagious laugh, his smile, the way he'd ramble on about his current interest. God I'm gonna miss him.

I was front row at his funeral, holding hands with his mom and sister, I made sure to tell them that the person who took him away from us was dead. They didn't even ask, not wanting to know the details, but were happy that Ben got his justice. But at what cost?

Nothing broke my heart more than hearing his sister tell me that he was on the way to see me, to have a surprise movie night because he missed us just randomly hanging out.

I let more tears fall, as I saw his casket going down, I'd never have my best friend back. What will I do without him?

I let them go as they went to stand by to watch. I let more tears fall as I grip the matching bracelet we had bought years ago when we were in high school. Mine was purple with a charm of some milk, his was blue with a charm of cookies. What was once such a silly little buy between two friends was now another reminder of all our memories together.

I stand up and drop to my knees in front of the designated spot for his grave and look down. Saying my final goodbyes in my head and look up at the sky knowing he'll always be watching over me.

"Jess you said you found a possible new recruit?" Miguel asked looking down at Jess as his platform was going down.

"Yep. You might want to consider her..." she says and walks onto his platform after it fully stopped, handing him the file.

He quickly skims through it then scoffs, "Jess this is a Black Cat variant-"

"Keep reading!" She exclaims and takes a seat on his chair, leaning back against it.

He rolls his eyes but does so anyway considering he trusts Jess' judgement. He keeps reading and suddenly his eyes widen making Jess laugh. "Considering it huh?"

He doesn't say a word, raises an eyebrow, and looks up at her, "when was the last time she did Black Cat activities?"

"Four years ago, exactly today." She responds and he cocks an eyebrow.

"Just keep reading Miguel." She says letting out a sigh.

He groans but looks back down at the paper, now carefully reading through everything. His eyes soften for a singular second before he has a serious look on his face again.

"Go get her." He says as Jess carefully stands up.

"You got it." She says as she takes a step down his platform.

"Just be careful-"

"Yeah yeah-" she says waving him off making him groan.

"I'm serious Jess- Black Cats are unpredictable-"

"Which would make her a great fit here." She retorts and walks out of his office.

It was four years since Ben was shot, you had struggled a lot especially in the beginning. But with all the support of his family, your family, close friends, and tons of therapy, you were able to grieve, and move on with your life but never forgetting your childhood best friend.

I was sitting down next to Ben's grave eating his favorite food, mac and cheese, along with some chocolate nesquik. God he really had the appetite and taste of a five year old.

I shake my head and smile at his grave, "Ben Parker, beloved son, brother, and friend"

"I sure do miss you." I mumble and look up at the sky.

I sigh and scoop up the last of the mac and cheese putting it into my mouth before taking a long sip of the nesquik. I pull the bottle away from my mouth before spilling the rest of it on the grass in front of the grave. "This one's for you." I say and chuckle.

I sigh and lean my back against his grave, looking at all the new dandelions that grew all around. I thought of it as he was giving us something to show he was with us. I let one hand gently caress one and smile.

Suddenly I feel something coming, I quickly stand up and look around. Nothing. I squint my eyes but there was no one around, no car or anything. Then just as I was about to sit back down some weird portal appeared out of thin air.

I straighten up and widen my eyes. I take a step back unsure of how it got here or who was about to come out. I look down at Ben's grave and sigh, quickly do a cross across my forehead and chest. I get in a fighting position when a woman steps out, a pregnant woman at that. I furrow my brows and watch as she steps in front of me cautiously. "Who are you?"

"Call me Jess..." she says and I put my hands down slowly.

"You're a spi-"

"Yep- sorry to be the one to burst your bubble but you aren't-" she starts to say and I gasp.

"The only one." I finish and widen my eyes.

"Wow...." I murmur taking a close look at her suit, it didn't even look like a suit more like a cool outfit.

"And you're pregnant?" I say and look down at her belly.

She nods and smiles, bringing a hand down to gently rub her stomach, "four months." She says softly and I give her a small smile.

"So not to be rude but why are you here? And how?" I ask and cross my arms against my chest.

"Think of this as... recruitment." She says and eyes me up and down.

"Recruitment?" I mumble and shake my head, "for what exactly?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"You'll find out soon enough." she raises an eyebrow at me, "you have a suit?"

I chuckle and shrug, "haven't really used it in a while...." I say and she smiles.

"Well you're gonna use it now." She says and opens a new portal and motions for me to follow her.

"This might feel a bit weird." She says as she walks in and I slowly follow.

We walk for a bit until another portal opens and it's in... my living room. "Go on, I'll wait." She says and I scoff.

"How the-"

"You don't mind if I get some water do you?" She asks as she walks over to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home....." I mumble as I walk over to my room then look back to notice the portal was gone. What the fuck.

"Y'know when you said you had a suit, I thought you meant-" Jess starts to say and I cut her off. "My spider woman one?" I say and chuckle, as I turn to look at her and she nods.

We walk out of the portal and are in some kind of lobby, my eyes widen and I gasp. I look around and there's hundreds, maybe thousands of spider people. And animals? "Was that a dinosaur?"

"There's all kinds of spider beings here." She says and I nod.

"Clearly- holy shit-" I say and admire all the different suits, designs and colors people had.

"So why did you decide on wearing this suit?" She asks as she leads the way walking past working spiders.

"Uh well let's just say my other one got fucked in my last fight and I was getting too lazy to fix it." I say and laugh.

"Plus this one was the next best thing.... And gives me more strength." I add and shrug. "And I wanted to see if it still fit..." I mutter and smirk.

"At least you didn't put the wig on...." She says playfully rolling her eyes making me laugh.

"Well you didn't give me much time to." I joke and bring a hand up to my ear to fix my earring.

"So, everyone's boss, Miguel O'Hara, is something special.... Long as you don't flip on us then you'll be fine and he might be alright with you sticking around." She says and I raise an eyebrow.

"So this is gonna be like an interview?" I ask and groan.

"Unfortunately."

I roll my eyes and curse under my breath, "mi suerte." (just my luck)

"Oh and he's Mexican so might have to be careful if you curse at him in Spanish." She says and i scoff.

"You're joking-"

"Nope, so watch that mouth." She warns and making me smirk.

"Then this just might be more fun than I thought." I say keeping the smirk on my face as she just shakes her head.

"Be chill." Jess said as we walked the long hallway to Miguel's office.

"I'll try...." I say and shrug.

"No doors?" I mutter and see all the machinery all over the place as we make a turn and yet another long hallway but with a lot of space at the end of it.

She ignores me as we keep walking and I trail a finger along all the tech things. I walk behind her admiring everything, then see a tool I knew all too well and chuckle. I shrug and grab it, unzipping the front of my suit, hiding it on the underside of my bra before quickly catching up to Jess while I zip my suit back up. You never know when you'll need it.

We walk into a room with a high ceiling and we both stopped and looked up as a platform was coming down, with who I assumed was Miguel. Wow he was huge-

I shake my thoughts away and bite my lip, crossing my arms across my chest and watch as it goes down. So slowly.

I blink and turn to Jess, she just sighs and shrugs, "just be patient."

"That isn't really in my blood...." I whisper and she chuckles.

"Well with him it'll have to be." She says making me roll my eyes.

It eventually came down, his back was facing us which I found to be very distracting... he was very wide, broad, and definitely not like the other Mexican men back in my New York. I bite my tongue and push back my thoughts... for now...

"Why are you wearing that?" He suddenly asks now turning around to face us and I raise an eyebrow. Why?

"Just felt like it." I say sarcastically making him narrow his eyes at me.

He turns to look at Jess and gives her a look, I roll my eyes pretending I didn't see it and take it upon myself to walk around as he steps off to talk to her.

I look up at the orange screens on top of the platform. It was showing tons of video clips, of different spiders but also of people out of their suits? Was this dude stalking people? This looked fucking insane.

I look at a specific screen seeing two teenagers talking, both their eyes filled with admiration and love. Cute.

"Oye gatita-" The voice and snap of Miguel fills my ears and I turn my head to look at him, "no es bueno fisgar." (Hey kitty, it's not good to snoop around)

I smirk and shrug, "just curious."

"Don't care that it killed the cat?" He responds quickly and I laugh.

"Did you already have these ready?" I tease and he rolls his eyes letting out a scoff. This was gonna be fun.

I walk back to him and Jess, looking at them, waiting expectantly. He lets out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair and looks at me, "so the last time you've robbed anything was four years ago?"

I nod, not exactly shocked he already knew. He did have screens that were practically cameras.

He narrows his eyes at me and I tilt my head to the side keeping my eyes on his. We stayed like that, few feet away from each other just holding each other's gaze.

I was captivated, I couldn't look away because I simply didn't want to. And to not lose this silent staring competition. His eyes were a gorgeous color of red, and like all men, had pretty long lashes. 

It had me thinking of how he was really handsome, the kind you'd find on a night out but not get the chance to ask for his number and you slump all sad for the rest of the night. Or the kind you and all your girlfriends would be fighting over wanting to go talk to him. The kind you'd grow the balls to ask to dance with you or maybe not even ask and just grind up against him-

Suddenly there's a loud clap making us both blink and groan at the same time. "Sorry just wanted to say I'm leaving." Jess says as I turn my head to look at her with a semi-surprised look on her face.

"But I want the credit for bringing her in considering it seems you already don't mind her presence." She adds and I laugh.

I look at Miguel as he scoffs and shakes his head, interesting reaction. "Who said-"

"Alright I'll leave you to it." She cuts him off and turns to me.

I look at her as she puts her hands on my shoulders and leans into my ear, "maybe use your magic on him, to make him less grumpy." She whispers very quietly making me smirk. Ah so he needs a distraction....

I bite my lip to hold back my laughter and just nod as she pulls away, "don't gotta tell me twice." I whisper back and she grins.

"She's a keeper." Jess says turning back to Miguel and he sighs.

"We'll see about that." He mutters and I grin.

Jess gives me a wave as she walks off and I look at Miguel again, "You definitely blinked first."

He shoots me a glare making me snicker, "you're very easy to tick off huh?"

"Shut up." He snarls making me grin.

"I can tell this is the start of a very beautiful relationship." I say and give him a wink.

He rolls his eyes then throws something at me, I catch it with ease and look down at it, a watch. "Welcome to the spider society." He says and goes back up to his platform without another word.

I admire it for a few seconds before quickly slipping it on and smile, wow.

Jess was kind enough to show me the ropes of how to use the watch, more specifically how to make portals to go to my earth and back here. Then she made another spider give me a tour and the overall breakdown, she was very sweet.

"So, Gwen, is it usually busy here?" I ask and turn to the blonde haired girl as she shrugs.

"Depends on the day, sometimes it's chaotic..." she says as we turn to see some spiders in the middle of an argument and she gives me a smile, "but sometimes it's chill."

I laugh and nod, "sure seems like it'd be a good mix of both."

She nods and smiles, "you'll fit right in! And don't mind the stares, there's already not too many women here so they're just-"

"Yeah... y'know what it's fine, could be way worse..." I say and chuckle, already have felt the stares since I got here.

"Trust me I get it, a lot, it'll calm down after a bit." She ensures making me laugh.

"We'll have to see about that, guess I'm not your ordinary spider woman." I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief.

Have these men never seen a woman before?

"It's whatever, but I really didn't expect this many people-" I say and look all around us casually looking at the amount of suits there were.

So many colors.

"Yeah we're a big bunch..." she jokes as we walk around the halls of HQ.

"And Miguel recruited everyone?" I ask turning to look at her.

"Pretty much." She responds letting out a chuckle.

"What a job huh?" She adds and I nod.

"It's a job of it's own." I mutter under my breath just shocked how one man can find and say yes to a shit ton of people.

"His main focus is his work so it shouldn't be too shocking y'know?" She responds and it had me thinking.

Main focus huh? Very, very interesting.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

It was your second day and after getting a full tour you had gotten your first mission. You caught the anomaly easily and thinking you'd get another one, you went to Miguel's office but he said that was it.

"What do you mean?!?" I ask confused.

"You're still new alright gatita? I'm not going to immediately give you a handful of anomaly's to catch, I'm going to ease you into it." He explains making me groan and roll my eyes to which he sighs.

"If you keep up the momentum of your first mission then maybe I'll give you two per day." He says slowly and I smile.

"So kind of you Miguel." I say and wink at him.

He rolls his eyes making me grin, oooh I love a challenge...

"Entonces Miguel estas soltero o que...." I ask looking up at him, lightly fluttering my lashes at him. (So Miguel are you single or what)

"Get out-"

"Alright alright cálmate- it was just a simple question." I say in an innocent tone biting my lip to not smirk or laugh. (calm down)

He gives me a look and I just ignore it, keeping my eyes on to his pretty crimson ones awaiting an answer. "Why don't you look over some reports for me?" He says and I finally let out a laugh.

"Sure." I respond then chuckle, shaking my head. This might be harder than I thought...

He goes up to his desk and grabs a handful of files, before explaining what I had to keep an eye for and correct or whatever, I wasn't sure, just looking at how huge he was while he rambled and looked at his screens.

I wanted to take another good and close look at him while his back was facing me. I've never seen any of those gym guys back home look like this- I mean he was on a whole other level of jacked and fine...

The muscles on his back extended and became more prominent with every movement and swipe he did on his screens only making me eyes widen and more thoughts coming in to mind.

He would look so fucking good hovering over me- towering over my body looking down at me with those eyes- god those eyes had something in them because I felt like every time I looked I was hooked and couldn't bare looking away for a single second.

The way his biceps were so toned and looked absolutely perfect because of his suit that laid on every curve flawlessly. Every inch of him was just incredible to look at and I might've been drooling a bit from how much I was gawking.

"Gatita pon atención." His voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I slightly jump before quickly gain my composure. Oops. (Pay attention)

"I am-" i retort and he scoffs. I bite my lip looking at the back of his head as he shakes it.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

"So why can't I go on the mission anymore?" I groan looking up at Miguel while he's typing away on a tablet with Lyla by his shoulder.

"I already told you." He mutters and I scoff.

"You didn't! You just told me I wasn't needed-"

"And I think that's good enough-"

"Well it isn't!" I exclaim and cross my arms against my chest, annoyed and confused.

He ignores me and doesn't even look at me, "Lyla tell Peter B to fill in-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!?" I scream and roll my eyes.

The fucking audacity of this man-

They keep talking to each other and I just close my eyes and take a deep breath in, because I unlike others know how to control my anger and annoyance. I hear Lyla's chirpy voice disappear and I open my eyes to immediately glare at him. He shakes his head, sighs then turns to me, "no hagas tus berrinches-" (don't throw your tantrums)

"Como no lo voy hacer si no me dejas ir a ayudar!! Estoy aquí para trabajar o no?!?" I retort and groan. (How am I not going to do it if you don't let me go and help!! Am I here to work or no?!?)

“You are-"

"Then???" I question and groan.

It's been a week since I got here and everyone's been cool and helpful. Except for him.

It was like he was my number one hater and couldn't fathom the fact that I was actually serious about wanting to help people. If he had his doubts why did he even bother let me join the society?

"You still don't trust me? Is that it?" I say and he stays quiet.

I roll my eyes and sigh, "I haven't even given you a reason not to." I mutter and walk out of his office.

"Then prove me wrong." I hear him mutter and just continue walking.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

I was sat on Miguel's desk waiting for him to get back from his mission to hand deliver him my first set of reports. I went over each other making sure everything was correct, slowly growing bored as he was dragging ass.

"Waiting for Miguel hun?" Lyla appears in front of me and I nod.

"He'll be a while more." She says and leans in looking at me intently.

"Jess said they were finishing up so i thought I'd wait." I say looking at her tiny body and she raises an eyebrow.

"You literally see the papers on me right now-" I say and she sticks a finger up shutting me up.

"I didn't accuse you of anything..." she responds making me scoff.

"But all of you are so paranoid for no reason anyway! I stopped my bullshit years ago." I mutter and cross my leg over the other.

"Then what about the flirting?" She asks widening her eyes and moves her face closer.

"That's just in my blood." I retort and shrug trying not to sound smug about it. I mean how could I resist?

She hums and closes an eye, widening the other just staring me down. I roll my eyes and play with a piece of my hair twirling it between my fingers while she's trying to read me, figure me out. I sigh and look at her, "well can you really blame me?"

Suddenly she snickers and shakes her head as I smirk and shrug again, no way she could deny it either....

"Hmm I guess." She says nonchalantly then we both turn to the entrance of Miguel's office to hear his footsteps.

She turns to me and puts her fingers to her lips and pretends to seal them then gives me a wink before turning to look at Miguel again, "kitty is here to see you."

I chuckle and hop off the desk as Miguel walks up to his platform and looks at me expectantly, I hold the reports up to him and he takes them from me quickly reading through them.

"Lyla mute all notifications for the next hour unless it's an absolute emergency." He tells her then looks back at me.

"Sure thing boss." She chirps, giving me a quick wink then disappears.

"You've been doing fairly decent..." he says almost hesitantly.

"Don't be so shocked Miguel, I'm obviously here to get work done." I say and shrug, straightening up.

"I see you are." He mutters and walks towards me then puts my stack of reports on the desk behind me.

I try my hardest to ignore our close proximity, knowing if I pay attention to it I will start having immediate thoughts I shouldn't be having.

"You've surprised me." He says looking down at me as we're merrily a few feet away from each other.

"How so?" I ask and cross my arms against my chest.

He shrugs and takes another step closer, I bite the inside of my cheek lightly and hold my breath looking up at him curiously. "Just thought you'd be a bigger problem for me."

That sounded like a double entendres.... interesting..

"I can behave when I want to." I say taking a step forward, getting closer to him and feeling my heart race.

"I find that hard to believe." He mutters making me smirk.

He didn't have to say another word. He wants a problem, he can get it.

I take the final step forward, our bodies so close to touching, I slowly bring a hand up to his neck then lightly trail along his collarbone. His breath hitches but he quickly regains composure, not moving nor pushing me away. I bring my other hand up and trail along his shoulders slowly.

Our eyes were locked the entire time but his eyes were softly fluttering and his chest was heaving the slightest bit. I smile sweetly at him and then bring my hands up to wrap them around his neck, removing the tiniest bit of space between us. I lean up a bit, lightly breathing against his lips, then lean in as if I was going to kiss him and only pulling away after our lips were millimeters apart. "Maybe I don't want to." I whisper and let our lips touch very lightly for a split second then pull away.

"Or maybe I do." I whisper then let go of him completely and take a step back looking at his very shocked expression.

"Cat got your tongue?" I tease making him groan.

He takes a step forward and wrapping his arm around my waist then turns me around. I gasp in shock then he quickly brings a hand up to my throat, making the back of my head hit his chest. His other arm was wrapped around my stomach as I felt his breath on my nose and a shiver travels down my body when his hand that was on my throat was off for a second to move my hair back. He leans down and leaves a soft kiss on my neck. Oh fuck.

He placed his hand back on my throat, barely squeezing making me wish he'd just apply a bit more pressure.  Sadly he doesn't read my mind but does leave more soft kisses up and down my neck making my heart beat out of my chest.

"Think you're hot shit teasing me like this gatita?" He growls in my ear making me bite my lip.

I squeeze my thighs together subconsciously rubbing my ass against his crotch. He groans and moves his hips, grinding himself against me. I let out a shaky breath and feel my eyes fluttering, he moves his hand from my stomach down to my thigh. He lightly squeezed the right one then moved to squeeze the left. "Tan bonita." He whispers in my ear making me moan. (so pretty)

Suddenly he lets go of me completely and I can no longer feel him on me, at all. I turn around seeing him with the cockiest smirk I've ever had the displeasure of having to look at and groan then roll my eyes. "Two can play at that game gatita." He teases as I clear my throat and give him a sweet smile.

"Then just make sure it's one you know you'll win." I say then walk out of his office feeling so empty and needy...

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

Anytime you had the opportunity to be alone with Miguel you took it, made sure to keep teasing him like he'd tease you.

At first it was innocent "accidental" touches like hands brushing against each other or even catching each others gaze.

Then it swiftly changed from that to you purposefully bending over to get something. As well as grinding yourself on him in crowded rooms to get past him.

He'd repay it back by snaking his arm around your waist then let his hands wander for a few seconds before letting go. At some point he couldn't handle all the teasing and would smack your ass whenever you both were alone.

You were going back and forth for days on end and it really shocked you considering he almost didn't even want you there, based on how Jess told you her conversation with him went.

But you were glad you were able to prove him wrong, and somehow were able to get him to flirt with you back, felt like a miracle considering what the other spiders were telling you about him. But you weren't going to complain.

Definitely won't complain.

I was coming back from my earth after finally deciding on giving my wig a go again, mostly because I loved the feeling of the long ponytail swinging back and forth when fighting. And for everyone's immersion since people were still staring.

Maybe I should fix up my other suit... though it's more fun to be in this one...

I shrugged my thoughts away and walk around, heading towards the training room simply minding my business when I walk past one of the many gyms and take a quick peek because my spidey senses went off.

I peep through the window and smirk, Miguel was in there. Perfect.

Impeccable timing.

I open the door and walk in, walking towards him then lean on the pull up machine Miguel was using and watch as he lifts himself up and down. The sweat glistening off his biceps and shoulders, absolutely perfection for my hungry eyes.

He continues his reps not paying attention to me at all which I didn't really mind, considering he was the perfect eye candy. I take a step back and walk behind him almost moaning at the sight, his back muscles and the way they were stretching and tightening with every movement.

It wasn't the first time I saw him shirtless but something about seeing his bare skin just had my mind and body going wild every time. He was different than any of the men I've ever seen or seduced back home which had me feeling excited because this was like brand new ground, or more so fresh meat. I couldn't help but want him.

I bite my lip and just stand there watching in awe and unable to peel my eyes from him. I take a step to the other end of the machine and lean against it, him still not stopping and letting out occasional grunts.

God he sounded as good as he looks...

He side eyes me and looked away before doing a double take and stopping, hanging off the machine for a second before letting go and standing in front of me with an eyebrow raised, letting out a chuckle then a smirk forming on his lips. "Silver looks good on you, gatita."

"Crees que si Miggy?" I ask and do an exaggerated little twirl then flip my hair back. (Think so?)

"Absolutamente." He breathes out making me smirk. (Absolutely)

"Thought everyone would like it." I say and give him an innocent smile.

I bat my lashes up at him as he grabs a towel from the bench behind us and wipes down the sweat from his forehead. He looks so fucking good.

I kept my eyes on his, fighting my dirty thoughts like wanting to trail down his body but somehow remaining focused on his eyes. "Nomas te encanta la atención huh?" He teased and I chuckle. (You just love the attention huh?)

I shrug them nod, "Tal ves... pero no creo que me puedes culpar..." I say and take a step closer to him, reaching a hand up to trail along his bicep. (Maybe... but I don't think you can blame me...)

"Menos porque agarre tu atención." I whisper and smile. (Especially because I got your attention)

"Siempre tienes mi atención gatita." He murmurs as he snakes his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him. (You always have my attention)

I felt my heart race as well as a familiar heat arose in my core, I needed him. Badly.

I wrap my arms behind his neck and look deeply into his eyes, he wants this just as much as I do. I can feel it.

I feel myself leaning in and watch as he does the same, our lips now millimeters apart from each other, craving for just a small taste. My stomach was fluttering as I felt him softly breathing on my nose, my face getting warm and I didn't even mind.

We both lean in at the same time, our lips finally meeting in a slow dance together. I couldn't help the small smile that popped up when he kissed me back softly, it felt so right.

Suddenly my spidey senses went off and I pulled away, taking my hands off him. I turn to look at the entrance of the gym and sure enough was Peter B Parker walking in mumbling to himself with Mayday chilling on his shoulder. I let out a disappointed sigh, shaking my head as I hear Miguel groan and see him gritting his teeth out of the corner of my eye.

I clear my throat and turn to him, "I guess I'll catch you soon."

I walk past Peter and lightly ruffing Mayday's hair then turn my head to look at Miguel giving him a wink before turning back and walk out.

So close.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

You were assigned on a mission to capture a Kingpin who wasn't where he was meant to be, along with Peter B Parker who had accompanied you because he didn't have Mayday with him that day and apparently wanted some thrill on the random Wednesday night.

You were prepared and ready to do whatever it took to get him, and already mentally prepared to possibly use some charm if needed...

And you'd already escaped him once so surely you could capture just as easily as he did you.

"Peter what kind of surprise attack is that?!?" I yell and groan, swinging away from the hidden position I was in at the bank Kingpin was at. Peter just had to announce we were here...

"I couldn't help myself! The big guy was rambling on and on to himself-" Peter starts to defend himself but gets cut off by said big guy going in for a punch to his face but he quickly backs up and gasps.

"That was not cool-" Peter tells Kingpin, pointing a finger in his face then shoots balls of webs at his face making him growl.

"Y'know he's not the only one who rambles to himself..." i mutter and snort thinking of the events from yesterday.

"Oh yeah! Y'know I wanted to ask you about that, what's going on between you and Miguel?" He asks looking up to face me as I look down with an unamused look on my face.

Normally I would've told him, but after yesterday no fucking way!! How could a man be a cockblock like that and expect to still get gossip??

"Nothing..." I say casually and jump down from the railing and onto Kingpin's back.

He starts moving back and I climb up his long back and shoot out ropes of webs and wrap them around his throat. "Then why do his eyes light up every time you enter a room?" He says and folds his arms against his chest in front of us.

My eyes widen and I almost stop webbing when I snap myself out of it and shake my head, "do they now?"

"Maybe... maybe not but now curiosity's gonna kill the cat huh?" He teases and I roll my eyes. Devious little fucker.

"Well...." I start but Peter immediately opens his mouth. "Ha! I knew you wanted to spill-"

"Who the fuck is Miguel-" Kingpin breaths out and tries to pull on the webs which just makes me tug on them harder.

"Shut up!"

"Cállate pendejo!!" (Shut up asshole)

Peter then webs his entire body, swinging around all the empty space of the bank and making sure it was extra tight so he couldn't get away. I jumped off and stood in front of Kingpin who looked only slightly different than the one from my earth. Still had a huge ass body and annoying but he looked much younger.

"Easy!" Peter exclaims and pretends to wipe off dirt from his suit.

"So...." Hs says and wiggle his eyebrows at me.

I burst out laughing, shaking my head in disbelief that he wanted to know so badly. I mean surely he talked to Miguel after I left?

"So what Peter?" I ask and look down at my watch, pressing a few buttons and watch a portal spawn in front of us.

He grabs the ends of the rope and begins tugging Kingpin towards the portal. "Well obviously there's tension... there's something there." He says and I merrily smile.

"It's complicated but it makes perfect sense for us i guess." I respond and shrug walking into the portal with Peter following right behind me.

A portal opens at HQ, luckily right where we drop the anomalies to the go home machine. Some spiders jog over to us and put Kingpin in a force field cage before taking him away.

I sigh and turn around only to have Peter looking at me with narrowed eyes and his hands on his hips. "Peter-"

"I wanna know how bad I should feel for interrupting the moment yesterday." He says making me shake my head laughing.

"Peter it's fine-"

"Tell me."

I sigh and shrug, "I don't even know myself. I mean I guess we're both flirty?"

"So it's mutual?" He asks and I shrug again.

"Very interesting..." he says and brings a hand up to exaggeratedly pretend to rub his invisible beard.

"Yeah people keep saying that...." I say raising an eyebrow at him and he finally looks at me normally.

"Well I'd say give it a shot, grumpy men need some lovin' too y'know?" He replies with the most serious tone ever.

I chuckle and nod, "yeah I guess we'll see..."

"Just have patience with him." He says and I sigh.

"I will."

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

You had a mission then another straight after, the first being a breeze but the second being much harder than expected.

A Doc Ock, much stronger than you had anticipated, and you thought you had it under control. You had to think fast to save yourself.

I widened my eyes when I felt a tentacle quickly grab me from behind, thinking I had maneuvered fast enough him to not catch me. I was wrong.

I groan as it slams me against a wall then makes another go to my throat and repeatedly punches me with a third. The tentacle around my body had a very tight grip on me, and i didn't have any choice but just to take it.

With every punch from the metal tentacle I felt more and more pain on my cheek and jaw, my skin felt hot, it was starting to sting and I could taste the blood in my mouth.

Thinking quickly and before losing consciousness, I have in mind of giving good ole Doc some bad luck. It usually took a while but right now I didn't have time so I just closed my eyes and thought of all the possible bad luck that could happen to this man right now.

My spider senses go off making my eyes shoot open as I look up to see a billboard above us falling down towards us. He raised an eyebrow at me and look up as well, his grip loosened for a singular second which was enough for me to slip out of his grasp before harshly pushing him out of the way.

We both fell a couple feet away as the billboard fell where we just were within seconds. I let out a deep breath before standing up and quickly use my webs to tie him up. I walk behind him as he groans and press a little button behind his neck and see as the tentacles detach from him.

I sigh and gather them before webbing them up together then press the buttons on my watch to spawn the portal. I grab him by his collar and make him stand up as I drag the tentacles by the end of my web.

I walk us through the portal and it opens up to where we put anomalies after capturing. A few spiders come up to me and quickly take him and putting him and his tentacles in a force field like cage.

I sigh and wipe my forehead, suddenly feeling the pain on my face. Shit.

I bring a hand up to my cheek and am instantly met with blood, i sniffle, slowly feeling some blood drip down onto my lip. I groan and quickly swing away heading to the medical center to put on some bandaids.

I drop down and walk in, looking for an available room to go in quick then leave. I make a turn and accidentally bump into someone. "My bad." I mumble not looking up and went around whoever I bumped into until I'm yanked back.

I yelp then look up to see Miguel and sigh, "Oh sorry Miguel-"

He looks at me for a millisecond before interrupting, "Come with me." He grabs my hand leading me towards a room.

I groan but follow anyway, not really having a choice since he was practically dragging me with him. He peeps through a door then walks in with me right behind him. He lets go of my hand and motions for me to sit down, which I oblige not really in a mood to argue or protest.

He quickly collects stuff from a cabinet then walks back to me. He puts the alcohol, bandages and gauze down next to me before bringing a hand up to my face slowly. His fingers grab my mask gently, and he peels it off making me groan as I bring a hand to the bridge of my nose. I feel his hand gently on my chin, moving it up, "it's not that bad..." I mutter, mostly trying to convince myself that the pain could be worse.

I lightly bite my lip, tasting the blood as I look up at his eyes, trying so hard to not look worried. He looks away and grabs the bottle of rubbing alcohol and putting some on a gauze pad. I sigh and place my hands on my lap as he brings the pad up to my forehead hesitantly. "I can handle it Miguel." I say looking into his eyes again.

He nods and places it on the wide wound I had along my forehead, remembering how many other bruises and slashes I had was the only thing distracting me from the stinging of the alcohol. Soon enough the pad was off and he had opened a bandage and placed it over the wound before gently placing a hand along my jaw and looking at my cheek.

He pulls away and gets another pad, adding alcohol to it then looks into my eyes. I nod slowly and he puts the pad against my cheek, it instantly burning making me fight back tears and a groan. He bit his lip fully concentrated as he wiped along the wound carefully and I couldn't help but think of how gorgeous he was. At a time like this?

Well to be honest I couldn't think of a better scenario for us.

He places the bloody pad down and opens another bandage, it being slightly bigger this time and gently placed it on my cheek. He sighs and rubs his finger against the bandage softly, making me melt into his touch. "The rest are just little scratches, but take a rest day tomorrow, I'm not giving you any missions and it's not up for debate." He says sternly and I just sigh.

"I guess..." I mumble and he pulls his hand away making me frown.

It felt nice.

A silence filled the room as we looked at each other, my mind going straight to our short lived kiss from the other day. His lips were so soft and warm, I had still felt their touch lingering after I pulled away and there's nothing I've wanted more than to feel them again. It's all I've been thinking about even on missions, it's always in the back part of my mind.

I couldn't help it, out of all the men I've flirted with in the past he was just different than all of them combined. He was attentive, and stern but sweet when he wanted to be. I've grown closer to him in the past few weeks and even if it's unexpected for everyone, for me it feels great. It feels right and I couldn't get him out of my head if i wanted to.

With the way he was looking at me I felt like he was thinking about it as well. Lips parted staring down at my own while I looked at his eyes then down at his lips. I lightly bit mine and feel a sense of nervousness in my stomach. This effect he has on me was intense. Now more than ever.

He cleared his throat making me look back up to his eyes, his pretty crimson eyes that I could stare into forever if I could. "How are you feeling?"

I shrug and clear my throat as well trying to hide my thoughts, "I'm fine, just hurts a little." I say making him nod.

Another silence.

He coughed and took a step back, his eyes seemed almost worried which had me a tad bit confused, my wounds weren't too bad and I know he has had worse. Unless.... he was starting to care?

"I'm serious about no missions tomorrow-"

"I know."

He sighs and folds his arms across his chest, this almost feels like it's going to turn into a lecture. Or something along those lines...

"What's bothering you Miguel?" I ask and he shakes his head.

Right as he opens his mouth I interrupt him knowing he'll try to lie, "No digas que nada porque ya te conozco mejor." I say and point a finger at him. (Don't say nothing because now I know you better)

He shakes his head again and sighs, I raise an eyebrow and feel my heart beat faster as he takes a step closer to me. "I just-"

He sighs and faces me, looking me directly in the eye, "I can't get you out of my mind and I hate it."

I bite my lip and nod, "I haven't stopped thinking of that kiss," I say and reach out to grab his arm, pulling him towards me, "but I don't hate it." I whisper and spread my legs so he can stand right between.

"Gatita..." he murmurs and I just hum, innocently wrapping my legs around his waist and pull him in as closely as I could.

"We shouldn't...." He whispers looking away, but I took notice of the redness in his cheeks and the way he wasn't shoving me away as a good sign.

"But you want to.." I whisper back and he sighs.

I bring my hands up and wrap them behind his neck, making him visibly breathe harder, "estas bien Miguel... just let me..." I whisper inches away from his lips. (You're okay)

I then lean in and peck his lips, testing the waters out, when I felt him kiss back I started kissing him with no worries. I felt his hands go down to my thighs, lightly squeezing as I brought mine up to his chest.

He squeezed my inner thigh and with the other hand brought it up to cup my cheek, kissing me so gently. I trace around his chest and trail up to his collarbone when he pulls away making me pout but he moved my head back and to the side. His lips then latched on to my neck making me gasp at the quickness he was moving but it was perfect.

He leaves kisses all over my skin while one hand continued squeezing my thigh and the other was now by my lower back, sneaking it's way down to my ass. I let out a sigh and bring my hands up to grip his curls as he chooses a spot for him to mark.

"Am I a problem for you now?" I ask out of breath and bite my lip to fight off the laughter.

He groans and pulls away to look at me, i fight back the urge to laugh as he rolls his eyes then sheepishly smiles. I grin and pull him in for another kiss which he doesn't complain about.

Until he pulls away and grabs me carefully, making me step off the bed, bringing me down to my knees. I fight back a moan and look up at him, batting my lashes at him.

Suddenly the lower half of his suit disappears and with that revealing his cock. Long and thick, already dripping precum as it sprung up and hit his stomach. My eyes were wide and I may as well have been drooling. Wow.

I quickly get to work, grabbing the base of it and licking off the precum that was falling off to the side and down a vein. I lick it off slowly while looking him directly in the eyes, making him moan and tilt his head back.

I smile, going back up to the tip I give it a few kisses before sticking my tongue out and lightly slap it on my tongue. "No juegues conmigo gatita-" he says and I pout. (Don't play with me)

"De verdad ya estas tan desesperado?" I tease and he groans. (Are you really already so desperate?)

"Me vas a matar-" he mutters but I cut him off by taking him on my mouth, slowly taking him in. (You're gonna kill me)

He moans and shakes his head then groans, "Tómalo- tómalo todo gatita-" (Take it, take it all)

I take more of him, feeling my mouth already be filled and I was barely getting halfway. I controlled my breathing as best as I could and took another inch, now feeling his tip nearing my throat.

I move my head back and forth, trying to keep up a decent pace but considering how thick he was, I was struggling. But he didn't seem to mind.

Suddenly he thrusts his hips making me gag on it and I quickly pull back then move my head forward taking as much of him as I could take down my throat. He moans and I feel his hands on my head, making me stay in place.

He groans then lets me go as I pull it out of my mouth and showcase all the drool that was dribbling down my mouth and on to my suit. I slap it on my tongue again then give him a wide smile as I wipe the drool from my chin.

Then back to business I take his cock in my mouth and start deep throating him again, feeling more comfortable now. I look up at him and see him with his mouth open, letting out groans then biting his lip. He is fucking incredible.

"God I can't believe this is finally happening- you have no idea how many times I've thought about this- just s-stroking myself thinking of y-you on your k-knees like this." He confesses and grabs my hair, pushing me deeper. "Just for me." He breathes out and groans.

I moan against him and squeeze my thighs feeling the arousal between my legs swirl around in my panties. He's stroked himself thinking of me on my knees? I couldn't believe what he just said, am I dreaming? How is this real? How'd I get so lucky?

I move my head faster and kept my hands to my sides as i made sure to take every inch of him. How could I disappoint him after he's had wet dreams about me? I couldn't do that...

I close my eyes, feeling them brink with tears as he now started to fuck my throat slowly. The little hairs at the end of his happy trail tickling my nose every time he thrusted all the way and stayed there a few seconds.

He groaned and continued thrusting into my mouth still holding onto my hair like it were helping him. I just let him and felt myself growing more and more wet as this continued on.

I open my eyes and feel a few tears slip but then notice Miguel's legs were shaking and he was slowing down. I felt giddy that was I able to take him and make him cum when he suddenly pulls away, slipping himself out of my mouth making me whine. "Miguel you were about to-"

"I don't care-" he growls and reaches down, grabbing my arms pulling me up with him.

He then turns me around and bends me over the bed making me yelp. He moves my hair to the side and starts undoing my suit. He zips it down as fast but carefully as he could and when it got down to the bottom which was by my lower back, his hands quickly came up to start taking it off.

His hands went straight to my shoulders peeling the spandex off as i was taking it off my fingers, god this suit was so frustrating.

He groans as I fumble with the spandex on my right hand and I bite my lip, "How mad would you be if I ripped your suit?" He asks and I scoff.

"You mean my only suit?" I say and finally manage to slip it off every finger.

He groans again and takes the sleeves off my arms then brings it down my body slowly as I lift myself up a bit. He's taking it off my stomach, then down to my hips when I head him take a deep breath when he finally brings it up and over my ass revealing my red thong.

I then feel a hard smack against it making me jump and moan,  fuck.

"Te gusta eh?" He teases and I feel myself melt into the bed, speechless and in awe. (You like that)

He's so perfect-

"Contéstame." He demands then gives me another smack, this one stinging more than the first, leaving my legs shaking a bit. (Answer me)

"Si- si me gusta..." I whine and lay my face into the bed. (Yes- yes I like it...)

"No fallas de sorprenderme gatita." He murmurs and gently rubs my ass. (You don't fail to surprise me)

I move my head to the side and chuckle, "Es bueno verdad?" I ask quietly and he hums. (That's good right?)

"Ni te imaginas..." he responds and blows a bit of air against my aching cunt. (you can't even imagine...)

I take a deep breath in, not at all prepared for whatever he has in mind. I didn't think we'd ever actually get anywhere near this...

But I couldn't deny how happy I felt that it was happening...

Definitely worth the wait.

"Estas tan hermosa gatita." He whispers and I felt a kiss against the back of my thigh. (You're so gorgeous)

My cheeks immediately grow warm and I just sigh, feeling his fingers slip onto my folds. I feel my eyes flutter as he continues his slow movements, tormenting me. "Miguel por favor." I whine and move my hips up, needing more. (please)

"Paciencia nena." He coos softly and teases my entrance with the tip of his finger. (Patience baby girl)

"Please-" I whine, earning myself a hard smack against my ass.

A whimper escapes my lips when he suddenly slips a finger inside, excruciatingly slow. But how the hell could a singular finger feel so fulfilling? Even if he wasn't moving it yet...

I close my eyes and bring my ass up, making sure to arch my back with my head still against the bed. "Good girl." He whispers softly and adds a second finger.

I couldn't help the moans that came out as he slowly starts to finger fuck me, my arousal enveloping his fingers as he starts to pump them faster. I didn't think his fingers would feel this fucking good otherwise I would've tried harder to get him to fuck me. I feel myself clench against his fingers with my thighs shaking to top it off.

"Miguel~"

He hums and pushes them deeper then curling them up to hit that spot that has me practically seeing stars. I let out some whimpers and let myself be fully indulged in the moment.

I lazily lay down, ass still somewhat in the air with him still fucking me but now my stomach was now directly on the bed. His fingers continued going deep but he was going faster now and it was getting hard to control the noises that left my mouth.

Deep down I didn't care if we were caught, i don't think either of us would want to stop, but still I knew I should keep my volume somewhat quiet. Especially considering we were in the medical area where there's likely to be tons of spiders getting fixed up.

And the fact that we definitely shouldn't be doing this here specifically...

My thoughts are cut short when I don't feel his fingers inside me anymore, giving Miguel my full undivided attention I turn my head around to look at him, "What the fuck-"

My breath hitches in my throat when I feel the tip of his cock rubbing against my wet folds. I feel my pussy clench onto absolutely nothing as he continues swirling his tip with my arousal. "Miguel-" I breathe out, letting out a shaky moan.

"So fucking soaked." He mutters under his throat and moves his tip down to my aching clit.

He rubs circles against it instantly earning himself whimpers slip out from me. I move my head back facing forward again, covering my mouth and biting my lip as an extra precaution but it was so hard being quiet when he was teasing me like that. "Fuck-" he moans as he positions himself, now feeling his tip by my entrance.

He pushed into me slowly making me bite my hand, really trying my hardest to stay quiet. After the past weeks we've been tormenting each other and all the possible sexual tension that's been building, he was finally fucking me. I finally had him where I wanted him all along and it was so fucking good. Perfect even.

I was able to feel myself stretch around him and he just felt better than I'd have ever imagined. He stretched me out but fit oh so perfectly and it was as if he was a missing puzzle I so desperately needed.

He grunted as he buttomed out and brought his hands down to my hips, helping me bounce against him. I lifted my lower half up, now no longer lazily laying down. He digs his fingers into my skin as he pulls back then slams right back into me.

I let out a whimper as he moaned and finally started moving, at first slowly fucking into me before he suddenly started pounding into me. I cried against my hand and bit my lip again, it's like he wanted me to make noise, or to let us get caught.

Not this time.

He let out strings of groans and moans as he continued his fast pace, not having a care in the world if we're heard. "Me estás tomando tan bien gatita." He moaned out and left a hard smack against my ass. (You're taking me so well)

I whimpered and felt myself clench against him, making the both of us moan at the same time. I was already noticing my vision get blurry and my legs feeling like jelly all while he thrusted his hips into me not ever stopping or slowing down but instead going harder.

"Shit! Miguel- se siente tan rico-" I whine and press my cheek against my hands now freely letting out moans. Fuck it. (feels so good)

"Ya se mami, ya se." He groans and I feel one of his hands grasp onto my ponytail. (I know, I know)

He pulls my hair tugging it a bit so I move my head back making him moan and completely stop, but buried deep inside me. I whimper at the loss of his pounding but then gasp as he brings me up carefully with his other hand and letting go of my hair.

I was now sitting up right on my knees with him still inside me, I felt a shiver run through my body as he brought his arms up and wrapped them around my waist. "You're so beautiful." He whispers in my ear, leaving a small kiss against my neck.

He brings a hand down to my stomach, right where the bulge of him was. He presses lightly making me sigh and lay my head against his hard chest. "You feel so perfect baby." He murmurs and I bite my lip then bring my hands to wrap them around his arms for stability.

"Y te ves tan perfecta." He purrs making me melt into him. (And you look so perfect)

"Miguel-"

"Shh..." he hushes and moved the hand from my stomach and brings it up, grazing my skin softly.

His hands lands on to my left breast, he squeezed it gently then moved his hips back. I sigh and grip onto his arms as he slams back into me making me moan in surprise. "Mi-"

Finally deciding where to leave his hands over my body he starts moving again, thrusting his hips into me as he holds a steady grip on my body. My tits bounced in the same rhythm he was fucking me and it already felt so overstimulating. He pinched my left nipple and moaned out sweet little nothings into my ear as he kept his pace and making sure I wouldn't just drop onto the bed.

His body towered over me even though I was on top of the bed, taking notice of his size compared to mine was starting to make my head spin. He was just so tall and wide, buff even, I was much smaller compared to him and it made me shake in pure excitement. I've never had a man of his stature just ravage me like he was doing right now and that thought alone was pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Just like that Miguel-" I breathe out but then feel a hand against my throat cutting me off.

"Fuck baby you're taking me so well." He groans and lightly squeezes my throat.

What sounded like a muffled whimper slipped from my lips making his hand around my waist grip me tighter. He rammed into me as if there was no tomorrow and I gladly let him. In what world would I tell him to stop?

"This is what you wanted isn't it gatita? Hmm?" He grunts and I nod.

"Just needed me to manhandle you and take you how I want." He mutters and another combination of a cry and moan leaves my lips. Holy fuck-

The mixed sounds of our joint moans of pleasure and him senselessly pounding into me filled my ears and I couldn't think of better things I could possibly listen to.

His hold on me made it seem as if he thinks I'd disappear out of thin air if he let me go, it wasn't a complaint more of an observation that had me squeezing his arms, needing him as close to me as possible.

He finally let go of my throat which made me breathe in then pant followed by whines as he snaked that hand down to my clit, rubbing slow circles against it. My back arches against him and I subconsciously tilt my head to the side which he quickly took advantage of and latched his lips onto my neck.

He sucked feverishly and I felt my eyes flutter at the overstimulation. He moans against my skin before licking the new branded mark. I bring a hand up to his face and look up at him, as if reading my mind he smashed his lips onto mine in a needing passionate kiss.

I kissed back as best as I could, feeling my legs slowly give up on me but his grip on me never loosened and his pace now slowing down. I felt him twitch inside me and i quickly felt my orgasm approaching, that all too familiar feeling in my tummy that has made my legs become a shaking mess and my sex leaving a creamy ring against Miguel's base with every thrust.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth and I tried to match his energy but that knot in my stomach was ready to explode. And it did.

My walls pulsating against him as my orgasm washed over my entire body, leaving me a shaking mess on him. I let out cries in his mouth as he gently held on to me and moaned into my mouth as well, feeling him shoot ropes of his warm cum deep inside me. He pulled away and gently pecked my lips which i happily reciprocated.

We pulled away, he leaned his forehead against my head as we both caught our breath. I felt my heartbeat calm down as he held me now gently. I didn't even notice when his hand moved from my clit to properly hold me but I just ignored it and melted into his arms.

He then slips out of me making me whimper at the empty feeling but look down to see his cum oozing out of me and onto the poor medical bed. I stifle a laugh and look into Miguel's eyes, he was already looking at me. I feel my cheeks burn up and I can't help but sheepishly grin, him returning it back.

He lets me go and sets me down on the edge of the bed then sits down next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I instantly snuggle up to his chest making him move his arms to wrap them around my body.

"You did so good gatita." He whispers and I nod, my breathing now completely normal but now feeling butterflies all over my skin.

"It was about time, don't ya think?" I joke quietly and he laughs.

I sigh and just listen to the thumps of his heartbeat as he caresses my hair gently and leaves kisses on the top of my head. He really was perfect.

[orange-coloredsky-archive]

my lovely follower i do not mean to put you on blast because genuienly i think your tags/thoughts on my elden ring posts are great and i appreciate them. they just also spur my thoughts on why i think godwyn is Kinda Meant To Look Like That For a Reason And Im Very Glad He Does. and why i think to have him look essentially like himself sleeping with some roots would defeat one of the many points his presence as a character brings to the story

having godwyn be a bloated fish corpse thing seems very symbolic and deliberate. to have him remain a incorruptible body would serve to prove the golden order's power over the world as righteous. the wrongness of his current condition in relation to what is deemed a "true death" by society at large as well as the fact that he died at all is meant to put into question the inherent truth of the order. this is kinda fia & TWLID's whole deal! there's also the connection to the japanese myth of the ningyo, which is brought up in a pretty popular zullie the witch video on godwyn's appearance so i wont rehash it here.

elden ring touches heavily on how legend and crafted cultural narratives form and are dismantled. we dont see much of godwyn's original form outside of the scene where he's actively being murdered with his back is turned to the viewer; him face-down after dying; a close up of his eye as he's overcome by deathblight; and the one statue in the haligtree that is unconfirmed to be of him holding a young miquella and malenia. everything else about him is written or spoken descriptions of him from items or people who either bought into the legends of the golden lineage for the sake of simplicity/assimilation or for the purpose of continuing to uphold the faith. or because (in miquella's case) they're simply grieving the loss of their beloved older brother. he's spoken of as a beautiful hero, as kind and diplomatic as he is powerful etc etc. you are given a mental Image of godwyn from tales and statues, and to "meet" him is meant to make that image collapse. and what better way to do so than to find his body at the bottom of the erdtree's roots -- swollen and festering with flies and just looking crooked and Wrong. godwyn, despite doing everything "right" in the eyes of the Order, is no more incorruptible than his siblings who graft dismembered body parts to themselves, or feed themselves to snakes, or suffer from curses. to have him not be so drastically changed simply would not have made as much of an impact in that matter.

also with his relationship to ranni as the soul who died so her body could die, is that both of them are rendered completely unrecognizable. what they once were is unimportant. this connects to the above paragraph about legends being crafted as well as him being a symbol for fia & TWLID. in becoming a grotesque remnant from his golden form, hes become another legend -- another symbol for a people to craft narrative around. how the once noble demigod was killed and became one of them.

of course people can draw whatever the hell they want. i love seeing art and headcanons of godwyn being alive & having a fish tail or other aquatic features -- i think its fun and interesting. but from a storytelling perspective i think to have him be in his normal body with only little changes to him in his state of undeath kinda misses the purpose of why godwyn is... godwyn.

looooove when i rb art of godwyn elden ring and one of my friends is like "is there. a merman in elden ring" out of intrigue and the answer is yes!!! but also. look out !!!!

[cryinginthebackseat]

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part iii

part i  part ii  AO3

Fandom: Call Of Duty

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 6.572

Warnings: here’s where the smut tag comes into play, boy with a copious amount of power play and yeah, it’s messy af

Author’s note: after three months, a couple of brainstorming in the bathtub, delays, revisions and self-doubt, chapter 3 is finally done. i hope you'll enjoy it. also, i don't think i have to warn you what will go down in this chapter.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fast forward to twenty-four hours since he discovers that Bell is fucking someone, Lazar drops about half a dozen of dusty manilas on his desk. Adler’s eyes sweep over them. He recognizes Bell’s handwriting etched across the memo attached to one of the folders right away.

He picks it up. It’s becoming second nature to him lately; drawing himself to her, an ineradicable magnetic force pulling his end of the pole.

A muscle on his jaw twitches.

For a moment, Adler despises her. He allows himself to really despise her. She’s started something in his head- a war; an intangible, unmanageable riot and if he lets her, she’ll rearrange him until he’s insane.

And he can’t let that happen. He’s the one holding the leash here, not vice versa.

“This is what we have on Dragovich’s activities in Yamantau,” Lazar informs him, pulling him back down to earth.

Adler stands, keeping his face easy, neutral. “Is this everything?”

“So far, yeah. Bell says she’ll let us know if she digs up something more from the archives though.”

Bell- the Bell in question- can be heard sighing, like she turns the corner and finds herself at a cul-de-sac; hunching over her desk, reading, her fingers keep buttoning and unbuttoning the top of her shirt, madly distracting (him).

She remains in her seat, for pretty much the remainder of the day. Eyes glued to the pages before her, factory-like dedication. She hardly looks up when Sims borrows her pen or when Park stands over her, sipping her coffee, inquiring about her progress behind a plume of smoke.

The only- truly time Bell ever lifts her head from her work is when Mason approaches her desk. She gazes up at him, notes forgotten, a kittenish smile etched across her face, come-hither eyes that could have time hung in motion, or held at ransom, perhaps. Mason’s own smile is full-blown, too wide, too genial, as he stalks closer and closer to her table, her whirlpool.

Adler does a double-take, like his eyeballs only functioning for the first time. He might as well be hallucinating it because no... this can’t be right, can it?

But then Mason is touching her hand, a blink-and-you-miss-it movement that was not lost on Adler and oh, she’s looking at him hopefully now.

The knots in Adler's stomach are vertiginous. Realization rings in his head like a gunshot, nearly leaving him in a daze. There’s no denying it. Not when the exchange unfurls before his eyes like a broken, warped film reel and there’s nothing to stop him from seeing it.

The thought of her and him haunts the rest of his waking hours, until there’s absolutely no telling how far he’s fallen into his own pit. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ( Alex Mason fucked her that night.

Mason was in her bed; beside her, above her, under her. Inside her. He imagines her fingers digging into the mattress as Mason rolled her onto her stomach, mouth trailing down the ladder of her spine. Their breaths intermingled in the seraphic glow of her hotel room.

Alex Mason fucked her. It shouldn't leave an acrid taste in his mouth, but it does.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ She haphazardly reaches for the mug and takes a hearty gulp of its content. It’s not hers.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bell says, mortified and places the mug down noisily on the desk. “I’m sorry, I thought it was mine.”

The rim of his mug is now stained with her lipstick. Adler bites down on a careful retort.

He thinks he knows now. Why he lets it happen, why he thinks of her in metaphors, why she gives him that vertigo. The answer is at the tip of his tongue- he can almost taste it, like spoiled milk or rancid gardenia. But it’s much easier to ignore it until the words grow diminuendo and disappear, that he thinks he imagined it all along.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You can’t obsess without turning around and getting lost in the middle.

Or losing a part of yourself in the process.

The idea of obsession, to obsess, perhaps is a far riskier thing for a person to have than playing the knife game, blindfolded with absolutely no telling where to start.

Yet we all do it, despite knowing the very dark flipside it possesses.

Perhaps it’s the very nature of humans, tucked deep within the pigeonhole of our minds, suffused by the very promise of bogus achievements that usually leads most of us insane, thinking that obsession is essential to living. But without it, artists are corporate slaves, slack-jawed know-it-alls moving stiffly in the middle of the hullabaloo that is our world; Paris would be just as unrecognizable today without Napoleon’s artistic legacy.

Obsession is good.

Obsession is dangerous.

The very dichotomy should have us all warded off of it.

Yet, again, we all do it. Again, and again, and again until it taints our veins. And it’s always far too late until you realize, that yes, now all you see is her, the air has been poisoned by her perfume, that her name is now forevermore engraved in your skin, like an overgild tattoo.

That you end up in downtown Berlin, out of sight, out of mind.

He finds them there, in a shoebox-sized cafe. Ill-lit, low-ceiling, coffee-stained floor that shows the wear of three decades worth of boots, pantoffels and high heels and Adler is sitting in his car, nursing a beer with but one all-consuming, perplexing thought:

Bell and Mason.

Someone told him they arrived together, about an hour ago. The cafe has become their usual haunts, his source said, ever since they’ve returned from Ukraine and Adler just can’t wrap his head around this- them. In his head, they’re wholly different entities. Two proper nouns separated by a conjunction, or a comma if mentioned in a list.

They’re the kind of opposites that he thought don’t attract, yet here they are.

Perhaps it's inevitable, both are products of brainwashing. Maybe they sensed one another, speaking in code, like detecting an RF signal from a nuclear bunker.

Then the doors to the cafe swing open. They step outside, cheeks flushed, his arm wrapped around her waist, her lips glueing on the slope of his neck. Shaded eyes watch them from the opposite street, his disgust obvious.

Now, Adler wonders how this all began. Someone must have made the first move.

He wonders if it was her. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanted to see me?"

Adler looks up from his desk and nods. "Lock the door behind you."

And Alex Mason, the root of all this trouble, obeys. Looking somewhat uncertain under the scrutiny of the harsh lights, and shuts the blinds. Unlike Woods, he takes a seat at the chair Adler sets up before the desk.

"What is it?" Mason asks, after a long, almost unending silence. His curiosity seeps through the room.

There is very little control when the first domino falls. Oftentimes, once it starts, it’s like crossing the Rubico n and the next thing you know, you are lying flat on the ground in some theater, 23 fresh stab wounds decorating your body and the beat of your pulse seems dim and distant, everything feels cold except your blood; warm, bright and thick like gasoline, crawling into every space until it goes into your throat and strangles you, kills you. Fini, kaput.

But then again, he's not Caesar and this isn't Rome.

Adler pushes the first tile.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks without fanfare, tight and composed as ever. Never mind the way his eyes ignite like cold blue fire behind his glasses.

"How long has what been going on?"

“You and Bell." And Mason blinks at him in surprise. Bingo. "I saw the two of you leaving for her hotel from a cafe in Downtown Berlin last night. So don't bother skirting your way around this.” Adler leans forward across his desk. He’s a man on a mission- there’s no stopping him now.

“Now, let me rephrase the question, how long have you been fucking her?"

"Hold on, hold on, you were stalking us?" Mason asks, waspish.

Adler winces inwardly. "I was keeping an eye out for my asset.”

“Asset?” Mason hisses, like Adler just blasphemed. “Jesus Christ, Russ, is that all she ever is to you? An asset? She’s your protégé, for god’s sake- a person! What is wrong with you?"

"Plenty. Or apparently, so I've been told.”

"I don't find you amusing.”

“I'm hardly ever,” Adler parries. Mason remains silent, yet the tilt of his lips translate exactly what words can't. "And you haven't answered my question."

“Bullshit. I don’t owe you anything."

"Listen, Al-"

"No, you listen to me. You may be calling the shots around here, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. Whatever- or whoever - we're doing in our spare time is none of your business, do you understand? So you can just drop it," Mason seethes, bitter, and, much to Adler’s surprise, rises to leave. “We’re done here.”

"That's where you're wrong."

Mason has only managed to put a few paces between them before he turns around, once again stepping inside this metaphorical boxing ring.

"What?"

"This has everything to do with me," Adler says coolly. "You said it yourself, I'm the one who calls the shots here. Meaning, anything that could potentially fuck up my operation is my concern and I have the right to intervene should it needed. This, being a case in point."

Mason looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “What the hell does fucking her have to do with this whole operation?”

“Everything.” He says it like quiet resignation. It’s time to acknowledge the truth, he thinks, to that unusual idea that has been swirling in the deep recesses of his mind, that everyone’s weakness is varied.

Achilles had his heel, and Adler has her.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to, Al. You don't even know her."

Mason gives him a level stare. "And you do?"

Adler is so hard-pressed to say 'I made her' but even he wouldn't stoop that low.

"That is beside the point,” Adler tells him instead as he turns to his vice- one of them, at least- and lights it.

“There is literally no point to this conversation.”

“The point is, stay the hell away from Bell. I'm saying this for your own good."

"My own good or yours?"

Adler does not flinch, but his hand does ball into a fist under the table, how the fingers curl and then flex.

"Don't be ridiculous. I gain nothing from this except assurance." It's a lie, it's the truth. There's no in between. He doesn’t know which is which anymore. "You, on the other hand, I'm sure the old ball and chain wouldn't be near as thrilled about hearing this if word ever gets out."

Mason is quiet for a beat.

"Is that a threat?"

"Only once I pulled the pin," Adler replies, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.

But the thing with Mason, he'll come to realize later, is how much, like with Bell, weaving through his mind is like trying to grasp for purchase in the dark as he, once again, does the unpredicted and smile- a venomous grin warps his face, like he’s mocking him, challenging him to move his piece on the board and make this mistake.

Adler stares back, surprised despite himself.

He shocks him further by saying, "Go ahead, then. Pull the pin, throw the grenade, tell her. See if she cares."

Adler’s eyes narrow at his askance. He then drags his attention to Mason’s left hand, and something grave and familiar rises in his chest.

The absence of the metal band around his ring finger tells him why.

“You know where to reach her. If anything, I’m sure she’d trust your words better than anyone else’s. So please, do it.” And Mason’s so goddamn sanctimonious about it. He’s clearly expecting this particular reaction out of Adler. It only leaves Adler angrier.

Another long pause stretches, heavy and unkind.

"Fine. Maybe she won't mind, but I'm sure the Agency wouldn’t be as tolerant.” Adler takes one last drag of his cigarette. He has that ‘Having nothing, nothing can he lose’ look on his face that makes Mason frowns. “Not when you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy.”

"What?”

"Bell. She’s not who you think she is, Al. Tell me, who do you think is the sorry bastard we saved in Trabzon?”

Mason blinks. His face is blank with shock, then he shakes his head. And he keeps shaking it, almost manic. If he laughs, which one would come first, he wonders, the gun or his fist pummeling the side of his face?

“You’re lying.”

“And why would I lie to you about this?”

"No, no, no, Woods- he told me the guy’s dead,” Mason says, his words are shaky.

“He’s not. And he wasn’t a he."

A crease forms between Mason's eyebrows, the starting of another frown.

“Hold on, if she’s helping us get Perseus then why is she the enemy?”

"Because she doesn't know that."

"Doesn't know what?"

"That she's the enemy."

Mason holds his gaze for a moment, his expression tense, like a slingshot.

And that cold elastic band finally snaps.

“What did you do to her?” He’s openly glaring at him now, mouth tight, an icy fury that is no longer dormant and for the first time since Adler has known him, he finds the man dangerous.

Adler takes a steadying breath. “We did what had to be done.”

"You sick son of a bitch. You brainwa- You-” Mason clamps his mouth shut, trembling hands finding his head. “Shit. How could you?"

Adler ignores his colorful outburst.

“She resisted every form of interrogations we threw at her, Al. We had no choice but to implement MK-Ultra as a last resort. We needed what’s in her head.” Mason is silent in reply. Adler continues, “Look, it’s nasty business, I know, but some of us have to cross a line just to make sure that line's still there in the morning. And as much as I hate agreeing with Hudson, he’s right. We need to preserve our way of life.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to play God,” his voice is resentful and crisp. “Do you have any idea what you are doing? You could jeopardize everything, and for what? You’ve seen what this- this experiment did to me, this won’t end the way you think!”

“Lightning never strikes the same place twice.”

"You’re really willing to gamble on that?”

Adler scowls. “I don’t gamble, Mason. I calculate. And if by some chance I was given a second chance, I’d do it all over again. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Mason doesn’t say anything at first, his loaded gun stare never falters. Then, “The flag may be different, but the methods are the same.”

"What was that?”

“Someone warned me, a long time ago, about how people like you will use people like me or Bell as pawns in your own game. You’d do whatever it takes to get what you want- and my, how you get results, don’t you? But you’re actually no different than the rest of the assholes you're fighting against,” Mason tells him, like he’s spitting out acid in Adler’s face.

“Bell may be the enemy- heck, she could be the architect behind all the chaos Perseus has done, but what you’re doing to her is vile and unethical. There are many ways to make her spill the beans, yet you chose the most immoral method there is out there. I sincerely hope you rot in hell for this."

Before Adler could formulate a response to his tirade, Mason stands to his feet.

“You want me to stay away from her? Fine. Consider this as my formal resignation. After Yamatau, I’m done. I’m out of the team. And if you know what’s good for you, you stay the fuck away from me because I don't ever want to see your face again, do you hear me?” he snarls. “If you think Woods is dangerous, Adler, just remember I nearly could have killed my own president."

Then Mason turns on his heel and walks out of the room, once and for all. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The fist is very much expected, and so does the pain that follows.

"You're out of your fucking depth, shithead," Woods spits, venom lacing his words.

Adler doesn't even bother to retaliate.

He doesn’t see the point. He didn’t think it would get this far. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The garage grows quiet and stodgy with now Mason and Woods are out of the picture. Everyone settles back into their own normal rhythm, the same routine before both men set their feet here almost a week ago.

Hudson doesn’t take the news of their departure kindly, naturally. He stands in Adler’s office, pacing, fuming. Adler ignores him, trying to nurse the skull-splitting migraine he's having at his desk instead. The nasty black eye hidden underneath his glasses. A secret locked, the key thrown away.

His headache, thankfully, has subsided when Sims takes a seat on the other side of the desk, hours later after Hudson left.

"I'm not trying to cause an alarm here, but you'd better watch your back."

Adler's brows furrow but doesn’t look up from the papers before him. "And why's that?"

"'Cause I think you just pissed off the wrong beast," Sims tells him. Adler pauses, then lifts his head to look at his cohort. There's genuine worry flashing over his face.

“Are you talking about Bell?”

“Who else?”

If she's a beast, then what am I? What he wants to ask, but there's a knock at the door and he swallows the words down his throat.

"Come in," Adler says, pretending to be reading again.

The door opens and Bell, fucking Bell, enters his office. It's like watching a tiger pass by your hiding spot in near dark. Neither he nor Sims breathes a word.

Bell's gaze immediately swings to him, like a cosmic pull. She's watching him as she wanders over to the desk and the weight of her stare burns him like Greek fire.

He pushes the documents close, all the while returning her stare. He is never the one who backs out of a challenge, and at this point, he knows that she probably knows that. Maybe that’s why she initiated it in the first place.

"Bell, what is it?" Adler asks firmly, in possession of his full power in this place.

Bell produces three diskettes from her pocket. Something odd definitely shining in her eyes.

"These have been lying on Lazar's desk for hours, but he's busy, so I thought I'd deliver them to you myself," Bell says. And he's trying to work out on her angle but she is unreadable. As always.

Adler nods, frustrated and indignant. "You can leave them here. Thank you."

It is only once the woman leaves that the two agents share a dark, significant look. That was too close.

And it goes without saying, something needs to be done about this. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

March 7th. A's insistence on raising the dosage is illogical. Recent behavioural analysis indicates depression. Will monitor for the next few days. Considering lowering the dosage instead. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The elevator reeks of smoke, cheap Soviet air freshener and something far more poisonous than the devil’s spider, silky hands.

It embodies the woman standing next to him right now- this special animal, emotionless, a constant mystery wrapped with a warning sign.

Adler is tempted to shut his eyes.

Or get out of here. He doesn’t dwell well in this atmosphere, this limited space shared with her alone. He probably should have listened to Hudson about taking Bell for this mission, but she’s the only one he trusts who won’t fuck this up. Not to mention her spotless Russian has proven to help them blend in with the crowd seamlessly.

He needs her, whether he would admit it aloud or not.

But she puts his head in such a spin.

She’s been near-mute since they departed from Germany. She barely acknowledges his questions and orders, barely looks at him. She’s been treating him as if he’s another shadow on the wall.

He rubs the side of his jaw. Something does need to be done about this.

“Are you going to stay quiet forever?” Adler asks. He’s bad at this, but he can’t stand her silence for much longer. Not to mention, they’re at the Lubysnka- the fucking lion's den. If she wants to wallow over Mason’s absence or sinks into whatever melancholic feeling she’s in, she can do it later.

Bell hums, her mouth curls up like serpentine. Adler sketches a confused frown.  And she says, “I don’t know. Should I?”

And then, sudden and swift, Bell undoes the cuffs of her uniform. Beady eyes never leave his.

The sight catches him off guard. Somewhere in his mind, he curses something like ‘you’re a beast’ and ‘what the hell are you?’ at her, all in negative connotations. The effects she inflicts on him is maddening.

“What are you doing?” Adler doesn’t bother to hide his surprise.

Bell shrugs and gestures to the duffle bag at their feet. “Gearing up.”

Oh. Embarrassment wells up in him. Fucking hell, this woman will be the death of him.

Her fingers quickly move on to the buttons, still indifferent, nearly tearing them from the seams. The first glimpse of her skin and Adler can’t help but give in, openly stares at her in a way he has never imagined before. Her clavicles like daggers glinting in the lamplight.

Curiosity is a dangerous and heavy load.

He should have closed his eyes.

“Enjoying the show?” Her voice pulls him back from his musings. Her eyes still zero in on him, cutting him to pieces.

Her cleavage comes into view.

The lines on Adler’s face grow taut.

“What do you want, Bell?” He asks, intending for a bark but it ends somewhere like a plea.

“I want many things. As of right now, I want Alex’s cock inside me.” And Adler nearly chokes on his own breath. Bell, eagle-eyed as ever, caught the movement. “But it seems someone insists on being in control of everything, isn’t he?” she snaps.

Adler’s back goes rigid. Trepidation bubbles up in his chest.

Of course, she knows.

“It's not about control.” Adler turns around. He doesn’t quite know what he’s avoiding at this point, her flesh or the truth. “It’s about what’s right.”

He hears her uniform touches her floor as she laughs, mirthless, like broken chandeliers. “I didn’t know whose cock I’m riding is any concern of yours.”

“It is when he’s a member of the team,” he seethes. “What you’re doing with Alex will only lead to complications. And I can’t have tha-”

“Because this is all about you, isn’t it? It’s about upholding your precious reputation in the Agency, controlling the narrative the way you want it no matter how many characters you kill off in the process. It’s always about what you want.” Bell interrupts, not missing a beat. “You selfish motherfucker.”

"This has nothing to do with my reputation in the CIA."

She scoffs. "Spare me the crap, Adler."

Adler turns to fully face her again and holds his arms open, the way someone is facing the firing squad. “Fine. Fine, yes, I’m a selfish motherfucker. I did it because I thought it could ruin the operation. Is that what you wanted to hear? Now, what are you going to do about it?”

She says nothing at first. He silently catalogues her movements as she steps towards him now, half-naked and furious. He feels pinned.

Then, “What do you want me to do about it?”

His mouth dries at the implication. She is temptation, benediction, the coarse ice block before the carver.

How terrible it is to lose control, even just once.

A knowing, vicious smirk flashes over her face. Adler feels like he’s just shown his hand.

“You are one selfish bastard and a coward to boot, aren’t you?” Bell sneers before he has a chance to respond. “At least, Alex was brave enough to make the first move, but you…” her gaze raking up and down his figure coldly, a jeweller presented with second-grade imitations. Wind her up and this honey bee stings.

“You’ll always be the man who hides behind his shades,” she says, dry as dust, and steps back and snatches her clothes from the bag.

This is, without a single doubt, the longest elevator ride he’s ever experienced in his life. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler arrived back in Berlin breathing a little harder. Worry wrapped around his neck like a noose, placed by Bell herself; the judge, jury and executioner.

The knot tightens every time his mind refers to her.

The agency trained him, specifically, to keep calm under pressure. He didn’t coin the title “America’s Monster” from his colleagues for nothing. They don’t fear him because he’s hot-headed or thinks in large-scale violence— guns blazing, napalm-induced flames over the hill in the morning, bloodied knuckles and fractured jaw, blood-soaked soles tarnishing the white marble floor. Someone can point a fucking shotgun to his face and he’ll barely flinch. Only monsters remain impassive to direct threats of violence.

But there’s something about Bell that elicits this visceral, primal reaction out of him. Something strange and new; lightning about to be uncapped from its chains.

It chokes him, frightens him to the core.

How gauche is it, don’t you think, that his own mind is conspiring against him?

Now, in the garage, where it dawns on Adler that she’s probably the only person who can make him walk around the city, feeling like a fool, he decides he’s had enough. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’ll drive you back.”

Adler apprehends Bell outside the garage. He kind of assumed she’d have a pistol aimed at his head right now, but she spins around, hands shoved deep inside her pockets and clayey mouth curls in distaste.

“Get in the car, Bell,” Adler says tightly, almost adding please.

But he would not beg.

The brunette remains rooted in her place. For a moment, a calculating look crossed her face. Always, always that sharp mind of hers turning and he wonders where it would take her this time.

“Try asking nicely,” she demands.

Adler’s eyes flash. She really is testing him. But fine, he'll play her game.

“Bell, would you kindly get in the car?” He is all but snarls, teeth gritting. Bell hardly wavers- he wishes she would waver for a change.

She does what he asked of her, finally, the shadow of a smirk on her face mocking him. Adler follows suit, teeth still clenched together, and starts the car and drives away.

It's sort of like a deja-vu, he supposes; him and her in this very same car, except that stupid krautrock music is absent this time. Neither says anything for the first twenty minutes. Everything feels heavily still.

Until he realizes she’s probably waiting for his move.

This might gloriously blow up in his face, yes, he knows this. Especially remembering the last time he was alone in a tight space with her, it had cost him his pride.

And his mind.

But he’s been here before, in the eye of the storm. He was at his calmest here. He has his cards prepared now.

Adler inhales deeply.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he utters resolutely. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t want to. “I was out of line, I admit it. Your affair with Mason should be no concern of mine but I really am just trying to look out for you.”

It’s weak, he knows. The words feel more like an anchor than an actual apology in his tongue anyway, but Adler didn’t expect that Bell would give him nothing. Not even an acknowledging hum, a scathing retort, a scoff. Nothing.

A twinge of irritation brews in his stomach. Why does she insist on playing games?

The car comes to a stop. They’ve arrived. Adler wrests his hands from the steering wheel to say something harsh to her, but Bell is already stepping out of the car.

She stands on the sidewalk; an enigma in royal red, and her lethal, all-seeing eyes gravitate to him in the night.

There is a long paralyzing beat where they just stare at each other- which seems to be a running theme between them lately. Adler is fuming, as he is confused.

It feels like hours, centuries, eons, but, like all magic, the spell is broken. Courtesy of a stranger hailing a cab behind his car.

Bell turns and walks inside the building. She doesn’t bother sparing him the final glance or extend her appreciation for the ride back and Adler thinks to himself, this universe, god fucking damnit, nothing makes sense here.

But it is also in moments like this that the world spins, when he notices a singular, significant detail that makes his stomach roll, nearly throwing him off balance:

Bell left the passenger door open.

And he’s insane- he has to be, right? He’s looking too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything. His mind conjures an image, like a graphic guideline or something, step one: get out of the car, two: make your way around and close the passenger door, and third: zoom out of the neighborhood while your sanity is still intact, all in that order. Easy to comprehend, to follow.

Adler only does the first two steps. He’s ass-backwards doesn’t even bother to digest the third step.

He enters the hotel instead and takes in the surroundings. The lobby is pointedly bare, but warm and smoky. The concierge is reading behind the counter- a young, wiry boy with shocking bleached hair- with headphones on. It’s late, he probably doesn’t expect anyone to check in at this hour.

A movement by the staircase catches his interest. He sees Bell climbing up the steps slowly, leisurely. Adler makes his way there.

Halfway reaching her floor, Adler has the inkling that she knows that he’s following her. Also, because the next she does is glancing back at him over her shoulder. He waits for her to push him down the stairs or wrap those delicate hands around his neck. She does neither. She doesn’t want him gone.

Yet, his mind betrays him. Only because she doesn’t know what other atrocities he’s committed to her.

She stops by her door, opens it and goes in first. Adler, without waiting for a formal fucking invitation, slips in behind her.

Her room is much smaller than his. The TV is still on- a German dubbed of All the President’s Men is playing- a stack of books and meds lying haphazardly on the desk table.

The door clicks shut behind him. Bell wanders over to the table and turns off the TV. Her back to him.

She doesn’t bother turning the light switch on. The green neon of the hotel sign outside illuminates the room, bathes her in it, making her look even stranger and faraway.

He doesn’t take off his sunglasses.

“What do you want, Bell?” Adler is all but snarling. His anger comes in a bottle with a twist-off cap. “I’m fucking sick of playing your games. I apologized, I admitted I was wrong- I fucked up, but what more could you want?”

Jesus, and now he’s losing his temper over a brainwashed Russian who rarely talks. How did it come to this?

She tugs off her gloves. Once again, barely acknowledging him. Apparently, if ignoring him is an art form, she is the fucking Monet.

Until:

“Take them off.”

Adler blinks hard behind his glasses. Like he’s just stepped into a whole different earth.

His mouth moves.

“What?”

“Your sunglasses. Take them off.”

He stares at her back. Trying really, really hard to make sure he’s not hallucinating this, but then Bell turns around, a finger tapping against her arm, waiting.

Realization hits him like an uppercut in the face and nearly leaves him in a daze. He’s walked into a trap. That much is clear as day. She wants him to suffer as she does. An eye for an eye.

Adler holds no modicum of control in her domain, not unless she gives the reins. Once again, she plays the judge, jury and executioner at her own court.

But, like before, he’ll play her game.

There, the glasses are off. His eyes, bare, blue like fractured ice, meeting hers. In the dark, he feels her eyes shift to assess his bruise.  

His heart booms against his ribs.

"Kneel,” she says glibly.

He obeys, again. His legs and hands don’t shake, but his mind is much less governable than his limbs. No, the CIA didn’t prepare a manual for situations like this and he doesn’t trust his instincts to help him dance his way around this.

Nor does he want to.

The thought fucks him up to a degree.

Adler should have known that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees, no, no. That would have been too easy, anyway. Although history has dictated and taught him that women are never to be underestimated, Adler hasn’t expected that one woman would be able to do the deed and succeed.

But then again, when that woman is Bell, he supposes anything is possible.

When Bell approaches him, he’s unable to take his gaze from her. Her eyes spangle with determination, an avenging soul in the neon lights. Her fingers work on the sash of her coat. The line of her mouth is flat and inscrutable. The air crackles with electricity and a promise of the unsayable, the unattainable.

She stands over him now, gloveless and coatless. She’s powerful like this and he can only crane his head up at her, ceding his fate in her hands, against his better judgement. She catches that.

Suddenly, something unpleasant breaks on her face, like when one’s smelling something foul or pungent.

Bell reaches down and grips his jaw painfully in one hand, her nails digging into his skin, and tilts his head sideways. Strange that his stomach leaps at that.

“Say you’re sorry,” she spits furiously. “And say it like you fucking mean it.”

He feels, suddenly, triumphant and chuckles darkly. Eight fucking long weeks and the beast finally shows her claws.

“Try asking nicely,” Adler parrots her words from before, not a beat missed. Two can play that game, he thinks. "Or are you above niceness, Bell?”

Her grip tightens.

"You’re one to talk,” Bell says. Then, rubs the pad of her thumb over his scarred cheek and it feels like forgiveness, or the beginning of it, at least.

His confusion spikes.

Her nose skims down his jawline.

A better, sensible man would apologize. He'd squander it until his tongue burns acid, he'd beg for her forgiveness like a man asking for repentance before his god.

“Why did you do it, Russell?” Bell whispers against his skin now, baleful and raspy. Her chest rising and falling too rapidly.

But he’s a sick bastard, a selfish motherfucker, a heartless monster. All he does is hurt the people around him. He doesn’t get to take from her, not after what he's done.

Still, Adler catches her wrist. Relishing the way her wrist bone grinds under his hold. He pulls his face back to look at her.

“You know why.”  

Her eyes flick dangerously to his lips.

Desperation really can make the most vulgar things tolerable.

“Then prove it.”

So he does. As his hand reaches up to her neck, past the delicious column of her throat and with a precise swift, Adler grabs a fistful of her hair, the feminine gasp escaping her mouth is like a jolt to his groin, and kisses her.

Bell responds in kind. That little beast. She grasps his collar and drags him up to his feet, impatient with want. She laps at him, bites and sucks. His free hand snakes around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

She pulls away, catching her breath, and his teeth skim down her jaw, her neck. He bites her there in retaliation, on the delicious junction of her neck and shoulder, into the fabric of her shirt, making his intentions clear. Bell chokes in surprise and scrapes her nails over his scalp.

It hurts. But with pain, along comes pleasure and it’s good. It’s so good, Adler melts with a shaky breath.

His gloves come off first. Next, she pulls him free off his jacket, his sweater and snakes a hand between his legs, stroking him. He bites off a strangled ‘fuck’ into her throat. He’s worked up real fast already. Adler manages to make a short work of her shirt, unclasping her bra before he’s all but pushes her onto the bed.

Adler settles above her, capturing her lips in another feverish, hot-blooded kiss. He tugs her zipper down and slips his hand inside her pants. Her cunt’s everything he’s come to expect: wet, warm and oh-so wrong. She sucks in a breath. Her hips move against his hand. His blood sings. She throws her head back against the pillow, while his finds her earlobe.

“Has this proven my point, Bell?” he asks. His answer starts on a moan and ends with a breathless ‘yes’.

He doesn’t let her come that easily. No, he wants to drag this out for as long as he can until it drives her mad. So, Adler peels the rest of her clothes away, pulls her shoulder and turns her onto her stomach. He pins her down, hard. She gasps loudly against the white pillowcase, her hand fists into the sheets.

Adler slots himself behind her. His hand tracing along her spine, followed by his mouth, just how he fantasized once upon a time. His other hand quickly undoes the snap of his pants. Everything has been poisoned by her and her only; she is in his tongue, his veins, his mind, his lungs. She takes the centrefold of his mind and it's ridiculous.

He presses himself against her ass. His mouth falls open. Her body trembles. She’s all sin and racing hearts and sweaty flesh. She’s perfect. His now free hand slides up to the nape of Bell’s neck, reaching her throat, pressing down. She makes this high-pitched, demanding noise as she moves her hips back against him, leaving him wanting, helpless at the thought of having her right here, right now, in the warm neon glow of her hotel room.

“Please,” Bell begs. He groans in response and he gives it to her. Fuck, he’d give her anything if she begs just exactly like that.

When Adler is finally inside her, he thinks his world drops dead. He sets a merciless pace. He is not a gentle man and there is nothing gentle in the supple arch of her back, a rose bent backwards in the wind, as he pants along her neck before he pulls out, twists her onto her back again and pushes deeper into her until she comes apart underneath him (he’s made sure she begs for it- please, Russell. Oh god, Russell)

(He didn’t have to. Russell Adler is never the kind of man to fall for his dark side, but Christ knows he is only one man)

[thesillylittlesnek]

The Things That Waited

That’s right, i wrote some more! this was a writing project for school, but it turned out pretty well so here you are!

There was a forest beyond the gate. The trees were tall – tall enough to be seen over the top of the towering stones. They said if you could climb to their top, you could see the edge of the world. I never put much stock in that.

I had never seen the outside. None of us had. Outside there were cursed things, monsters that roamed the grassy woods. Monsters with fangs long enough to tear through steel. Strong enough to fell one of the tallest trees.

Or so they said. Those stories? Those I could believe. Because one of us had seen Outside. His name was James. He was my best friend, but he never told me what he saw out there. But I knew it was bad. No natural creature could have done that. Not to him.

He had stumbled through the gate, and for a moment there was light in his eyes. Excitement – the glory of his discovery, the adrenaline of doing what cannot be done.

But then there was the blood dripping down his cheek. Following the curve of his face, turning his pale lips red. Spreading, shockingly bright against the gray of his shirt. His torn shirt, half of it shredded, the skin beneath unrecognizable.

He had fallen to his knees, his own blood pooling around him. His knife was in his hand, stained with crimson. His eyes – his beautiful green eyes – they'd searched frantically, almost blindly. And they’d settled on me, kneeling beside him, pressing gloved hands to the worst of his wounds.

There was so much blood. I couldn’t understand how there could be so much. It pooled beneath us. It dripped, thick and heavy from our clothes. I remembered him pulling something from his pocket. It was a small marble, shadows swirling within. It hung on a silver chain.

I tried to tell him not to move, that he was only making things worse, but he reached up. The cold glass hung heavily against my heart. It seemed to throb – a steady heartbeat, contrasting with my own.

Pounding in my chest, frantic to save my James.

But I watched. He smiled once, fleeting and bright. The last burn of a star as it burns out and finally dies. I couldn’t remember crying, but my tears mixed with his blood all the same. And his green eyes faded, dulling. Losing their spark. Their life that had led him. Gone.

I could feel his blood soaking my shoes.

The marble hung around my neck, tucked neatly into the collar of my shirt. I protected it, made sure it never broke. I didn’t know why, but it was the last thing I had of James left. And that made it invaluable.

I grew distant. My emotions seemed to have no spectrum, only mindless rage and useless apathy. One day the rage won, an overreaction to a starving boy’s attempt to pickpocket. I fought with him, and it felt good. He fought back despite his size – and he wasn’t strong. But it was enough to hurt when he punched me.

It was only later, after I’d already won, when I saw the cracks spiderwebbing across the glass. The shadows’ heartbeat increasing – faster – faster – for the first time since I'd first seen it.

I felt tears threatening to spill. My last memento of James, broken as everything else. I closed my eyes against the burn, the marble slipping to the ground, shattering entirely.

“Hello, child. I must thank you for relieving me of that prison.” It was as though many voices spoke at once yet heard from a great distance.

I glanced up. The shadows seemed to have taken a form – now, this should have surprised me more, but at this point the world could have ended and I would have simply stood by and watched. It hesitated, its mouth, the only feature it had, quirking in what seemed to be a toothily grin of confusion. “Do you have a... name? Or something I can call you by?”

“Yeah, sure. Call me Lyss. What about you?”

It shifted away slightly, wide grin faltering. “I have no name to speak of, Lady... Lyss.”

I peered at it. “There’s a character in a book I read once – it was often just a smile, alone without a body. They called it the Cheshire Cat. Does Chessie fit? And you can drop the ‘lady,’ I'm just a schoolgirl.”

“That seems acceptable,” it said, and its smile widened toothily. “In return, perhaps wishes may be in order? For my kind are known as Jinn.”

“Wishes?” I asked, stepping a bit closer.

“Wishes,” it confirmed. “Three, though I warn you of the consequences should you take them.”

Hesitating, I tried to brush away the thoughts of lifeless green eyes. “I wish... no. I wish to see outside without threat of death.”

It didn’t respond, only reached for my hand. I followed it, the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips. It led me through alleys and cobbled streets led me to the eastern wall. Smiling almost like a human – almost - Chessie ran a shadowed hand across the bricks. They slid away, forming a smooth gateway. I stepped through, watching the Things That Waited – iridescent white monsters the size of lions, with the fangs of a viperfish - as they turned to stare, snarling curiously.

“Can I make a second wish, Chessie?” It nodded, its smile knowing and almost sad. It knew what I was going to do, knew what impulses I was running with.

“I wish James alive again – alive and well.”

I didn’t notice the way the Things sniffed at the opening in the gate, how one tentatively tested the edge. I was too focused on Chessie, watching as it sighed. Watching as smiling shadows enveloped us in darkness.

I did notice when out of the fog, guided by Chessie’s long-fingered hands, came James. Stumbling and skeletal but alive.

That was when I heard the screams. Chessie watched me – or I think he did. “You have one wish left, Lyss. You can wish your city safe, but once you enter again, your protection in the wild wanes. And your beloved James has no protection.”

Already I could see some smaller Things eyeing him curiously. “I wish...” I wish for the city to be safe. I should have wished that. But I was scared and reckless and hopeful all at once. “I wish for James and me to be immortal.”

I felt different immediately, and a good thing too, for a beast leaped at James. But it was unable to hurt him, claws glancing off harmlessly.

But I knew it was the wrong choice as screams echoed within the city, innocent blood spilling onto the cobbled streets and splattering the walls. And I knew if I could go back I would. But Chessie smiled one last time, shadows dissipating into light.

And the screaming stopped.

and there you have it: here’s the tag list, lmk if you want removed/added

@confused-as-all-hell @thebonecarver @matthias-is-alive @simping-for-solangelo @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @saltyfortunes @fuckinhotsauce @nightshade3465

[thechangeling]

Say my name or I won't survive

This is an extension of my headcannon for non binary Kit. He uses he/they pronouns. Kit comes out to Jessa as nonbinary.

Tw: mentions of transphobia/enbyphobia

A lot had happened since that conversation with Magnus. Kit usually didn't like to make a habit out of breaking down in people's arms. But it had become clear in that moment that they needed to talk to someone. That they needed to face the things they had been pushing down, trying to avoid.

Kit was currently standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Magnus had let them take some clothes that had been magically altered to fit Kit. Just so he could experiment with wearing them.

So far he hadn't made it out of his room wearing a dress or a skirt, but Kit was trying to take baby steps. Well mostly they were just scared. Scared of what Jem and Tessa would say.

Scared of what everyone would say. Like what if he was just making everything up? Or maybe he was just confused? Shadowhunters were big on tradition. Asking people to use different pronouns for Kit and stop using his full name might be a challenge for some people.

Like Jace, their brain supplied.

Kit stared at their reflection on the mirror. Magnus had started teaching them how to apply makeup and experiment with it. Kit confessed that when they were younger they used to steal eyeliner and lipstick from drug stores and put it on when Johnny was otherwise occupied. Kit was still no where near Magnus's level of talent but they were pretty good.

Kit had done simple makeup today, not looking for anything too crazy, just a little mascara to make his eyes pop and concealer to cover his light bruising from training. He hadn't wanted to look too girly during this conversation, he figured it was better to ease Tessa and Jem into this whole thing.

Also Kit didn't always feel like looking too girly, even though as Magnus constantly reminded them, clothes and makeup didnt have a gender. They liked playing around with different concepts, different styles. The societal ideas of femininity and masculinity were just that, ideas. There were no real rules, not when Kit stopped playing the game.

They stared at themself in the vanity mirror, trying to think of exactly what Kit was going to say to Jem and Tessa. Just saying the words, "I'm nonbinary" didn't seem good enough. They felt like they needed to give a proper explanation of their feelings and experiences or else they would be accused of faking it.

The urge to prove ones validly, the need to make sure people knew he was real and he wasnt crazy, it was more importent then anything. It was infuriating. Knowing that his experiences could be so easily dismissed as delusional feelings.

Not trans enough. Not cis enough. Not gay enough. Not straight enough. Kit's mere existence was a controversy on it's own. It was exhausting enough to make Kit want to abandon the whole idea of coming out again all together. Maybe it was easier just to smile and nod everytime someone misgendered them. Ignore the clenching of their stomach and the punch to the chest that came with it.

Smile and nod and be the man he was meant to be. But he had been doing that for 18 years and he couldn't survive it much longer. Kit needed to come out. People needed to acknowledge his reality and use the proper pronouns for him.

Or else Kit was going to wither away, shrivel up into something unrecognizable. A shell of their former self. They were going to die if they had to hear "Christopher" one more time.

The only time it was tolerable was when Ty said it. Kit could almost pretend that he could be the person Ty thought he was, if it would make Ty happy. He used to think that he could let himself wither away and die as long as Ty was ok. As long as Ty was safe and happy.

But that wasnt ok. That wasnt fair. Kit deserved to be safe and happy as well. One of the things they had learned with Jem and Tessa was that Kit deserved to put themself first sometimes. Kit deserved good things despite what Johnny Rook had made them believe. Kit wanted Ty to be ok. They wanted Ty in general.

But Kit needed this.

He took a deep breath and exited his room, heading downstairs to the kitchen where Jem was cooking breakfast and Tessa was trying to get Mina to settle down. Everyone looked up as soon as Kit entered the room.

"Kitty!!!" Mina screamed excitedly, waving her arms around. Tessa shushed her fondly, scolding her for yelling.

"Good morning Christopher," Jem said with kind a smile. "How did you sleep?"

Kit tried to ignore the way their stomach clenched at the sound of their birth name. Dead name, their brain supplied. They needed to tell Tessa and Jem. Kit slid into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I need to talk to you guys about something," he muttered, trying not to sound too nervous or dejected. Tessa and Jem shared a worried glance.

"Is everything alright Kit?" Tessa asked sparing Mina a glance, probably wondering if she should be removing her from this conversation. Kit shut his eyes briefly and took a breath.

"Yeah I hope so. I just need to tell you something," Kit ran their fingers through their curls. Jem and Tessa watched them, waiting patiently. Kit tried to ignore the shakiness of their breath and the way their palms.

"Here's the thing," Kit began. "You might not get it but I need to ask you to respect it ok?

He didn't wait for their responses. "I'm nonbinary. Which basically means that I'm neither male nor female. I'm something else, something seperate. I don't know I guess I just think of myself as a person who doesn't really have much of a gender," he was staring at the tabletop refusing to make eye contact. "It's just sort of like, if you think of the colour spectrum as gender, I would be a blurry watercolour. A mixture if all kinds of different things and sometimes some colours are more vibrant then others. And then sometimes it's just gray."

Kit wasnt sure if any of this was really making any sense but they knew they had to try. Jem and Tessa were both still silent. Mina was happily chomping down on her breakfast and ignoring all of them. Kit took this as a sign to continue.

"I don't exactly know why I'm like this or how I know. But maybe there are some things that you just can't explain. You just know. Like I know that the sun will set and then rise again tommorow and I know that I love you guys," Kit voice faltered at the last part. He looked up at Tessa and Jem, panicked over seeing their reactions.

But they were both just staring at Kit with huge, loving smiles on their faces. Kit's breathing slowly began to return to normal but their hands were still shaking. Tessa csne towards them slowly, grasping Kit's hand in hers.

"Baby it's ok," she cooed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's just like we told you when you first came out as bisexual, we will always love you no matter what." Jem nodded.

"I have admit this whole thing is rather fascinating," Jem chimed in with a smile. "I've never heard the term before." Kit fought the urge to remind him that two weeks ago he had never heard of playstation, but decided against it.

Mina was paying attention to them now and she was smiling at Kit. "No bany!" She cried excitedly. Kit couldn't help it, he through his head back and laughed. Mina scowled at him slightly. "Not quite Min-Min," Kit told her playfully.

"Do you have different pronouns that you would like us to use?" Tessa asked. Kit's heart fluttered at the question. They didn't actually think either Tessa or Jem would think to ask.

Kit cleared their throat. "Yeah do you think you guys could use alternating he/they pronouns for me? Like use he in one sentence and then use they?" Kit instantly felt kind of guilty for complicating things further. "I'm sorry I know that's kind of confusing."

Jem shook his head, "no it's fine! We just want you to feel comfortable." Tessa nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else?" Kit pulled Mina's hands off of their shirt. She had begun to tug and pull out of boredom.

Kit nodded. "Yeah do you think you could stop calling me Christopher please?" He hoped he didn't sound to harsh. There was something so guilt inducing about having to ask for these things. It felt like Kit was making unneccessary demands. But he wasn't. He had every right to.

Jem instantly looked sheepish. "I'm so sorry Kit," he said softly. Tessa looked guilty too. Kit shook their head.

"Its ok. You didn't know. Just don't do it anymore ok?" Kit felt significantly lighter, like a giant weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. They slid out of their stool to walk around to the other side of the kitchen island and hug both Jem and Tessa.

Kit knew it wouldn't always be this easy. He knew that this life would be complicated and difficult, but it would also be full of exploration and freedom.

Kit would always have a place he belonged.

"I am also a we."

- Sense 8

Tag list you know the drill, let me know if you want on or off: @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam