#domestic cuties

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Luke Newton and Nicola Coughlan Taste Test Canadian Chips (x)

[meenoosart]

MEENOO's ART.

Somehow, one might have seen this coming… Yin-Yangels! ^_^

[dustyartsywt]

Some AraOu fresh out the oven

[minchanlove]

💗🐺🐰💗

[american-horror-whore]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw —smut, sex, unprotected p in v, slight masturbation (f & m), face sitting (f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, biting, unchecked spelling and grammar

an — sorry if this is a wee bit messy, i’m trying out new layouts. also, surprise surprise: a medium-winded evan smut fic (if this flops, i’m dying)

“Here,” Evan laughed, watching your lips engulf the fork with a bite of cake on it. He smiled watching you chew the bite, your eyes lighting up as you tasted your favorite flavor.

“Good?” He smiled, receiving an enthusiastic nod from you.

Your friends surrounded the table, each one of them trying to take your picture like you were some celebrity. You tugged at the silver ‘Birthday Girl’ sash that hung around your body, fixing your crown as you finished chewing your bite of cake. You couldn’t tell if you felt like a baby or a princess, the way everyone was poking and prodding you.

“Birthday girl should get a photo with her boyfriend!!” One of your friends squealed, yanking you up before pushing you towards Evan. You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making that same, semi-uncomfortable smile as his eyes darted to each camera.

“Which camera are we supposed to look at?!” You cried out, a beaming smile on your face as you practically read his mind. Your eyes shot around as you leaned into Evan. His hand slid to your waist, drawing small circles on your hip bone.

It was a long line of photos, gifts, and racy words of celebration before you and Evan were finally alone again. He was taking down a banner that hung in the kitchen, insisting you should stay at the table and eat your cake. You watching him work at cleaning up the apartment, watching his shirt shift up as he reached and stretched for higher-placed objects. Your eyes rode down his happy trail, stopping at the button of his jeans.

“Can I get one last birthday present..?” You question softly, a smirk playing on those pretty lips that Evan loved.

“What would that be?” Evan said, looking over his shoulder.

His eyes widened, a flash of hunger evident as he saw your hand up under your dress. You were leaned back in your chair, head tilted back as you let out a soft moan. Your fingers danced expertly on top of your clit, dragging the bundle of nerves in a circle as a pregame.

“Oh, okay..I see how it is, Chica,” Evan laughed, dropping the banner to the ground. He walked over to you, picking you up like you weighed nothing. He tossed you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom.

“Put me down-!!” You squealed as a firm slap to your ass was planted to silence you. Evan squeezed the skin beneath your dress before he dropped you down onto the duvet. He crawled overtop of you, peeling off your birthday dress. His lips and teeth nipped at your shoulder, your collarbones, leaving small bruises and imprints of his teeth on your skin as he unclipped your bra. His fingers hooked your lace panties, dragging them down your legs as he felt that soft material he loved so much.

“Get comfortable,” He said with a sly grin, peeling his shirt from his torso. He climbed onto the bed planting his face between your smooth thighs. He flicks your throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue, his soft, entertained chuckles sending vibrations through your body.

Evan slid two fingers into your dripping folds, forcing you to let out a surprised, almost involuntary whine. Evan flicked his tongue faster, his fingers pumping harder into you.

“Agh— Oh, God, Evan,” You moan desperately, your head falling back. You needed more, and he knew that. Evan pulled his fingers away, his hands drawing to your waist as yours drew to the back of his head. he continued to move his tongue in stripes and circles, tasting that vanilla taste that he yearned for. After a bit, pulled away before laying out on his back, the fluffy duvet crumpling under his body weight.

“C’mere..” Evan grunted as he grabbed your hips, attempting to pull you up over him. You settled over his face, seating yourself comfortably as you started to grind over his nose.

Evan once again lets out a chuckle, his tongue darting out to lick the wetness from your folds. Your hands went down to his hair, fingers tangling in his dark curls. You ground your hips harder, broken, satisfied whimpers escaping your mouth. Evan held one hand to your hip, the other one going to down to unzip his jeans. He pushed the denim to his thighs, grabbing and kneading himself through his boxers, which already had a sizeable stain on the fabric.

He took your hips, pulling you off his face. Evan sat you down as he pulled off his boxers, watching your naked body. His eyes traced every shape, every curve. The way your waist was shaped, your breasts, hips, thighs, everything. He thought you were perfect, made by Aphrodite herself, the contours of your body crafted with the holiest clay.

You watched him crawl over you, his hands going to either side of your head. You felt his lips on your skin, kissing your neck, his tongue licking at the soft skin. He always said you tasted of vanilla, for some strange reason. It had grown to become one of his favorite scents and tastes since dating you.

Evan lined himself up, his tip gently prodding at your closed sex. You take in some much needed air, relaxing your body. Your aforementioned relaxation had been cut short by the full feeling of his cock being driven into you. That was the moment that you remembered how big he was, how much he truly stuffed you.

You let out a strained moan, your nails digging into the skin of his back so hard that it almost drew blood. But he didn’t mind. He was a freak, you knew it. Evan pumped his hips back and forth, back and forth at a relentless, almost brain melting pace. He would go from torturously slow, to almost painfully fast, enjoying the way your nails dug deeper into his skin.

You crane your head, planting your face against his bicep. You sink your teeth into his skin, right against his tattoo. You hear him let out a wince, pumping his hips faster. You pull back, looking up at him as you held back probably the loudest moan you’d ever excrete.

“You’re gonna pay for- fuck— for that one, baby,” He panted, his breathing turning sharp as he continued going faster and faster until-..You finally felt it. That sweet release. And so did he.

“Evan-!!” You cried out, pressing your body as taught against his as it could be. He let out a loud moan, and then another as he continued weakly thrusting with jerking-like motions.

“Agh-! Fuck…God..” He breathed, exhaling sharply. He nuzzled himself deeply into you before pulling out with a wet pop. His length bounced up the moment it was released. Evan sighed, laying out next to you.

He held you tightly in his arms, pressing soft kisses to the helix of your ear, or gently to your neck as he whispered gently to you.

“Happy birthday, Birthday Girl..”

— taglist: @fear-is-truth @dangeroustaintedflawed @newwavesylviaplath @coentinim @lacucarachapisser @evansonlylove @dearlizzies @oceanblvd111 @foreverviolets @emmasshitblog @jazz-berry @xrag-dollx @taintandviolent @colinzabelswife @marchsfreakshow @evanpeterspeter @whosbloom @redroses07 @lemoniiiiiii @partypoisxn @evanpetersbf @ultraviolamb @jdnymos

[xialumee]

domestic scaralumi day 3 - afternoon date

[sevscig]

guys…i wanted a little drabble to feed my addiction to sev, and i’m missing my cat rn because he’s currently with my mom till i figure my shit out sooo!!!! cat content with sev :33 hope you guys enjoy!!!

|- just some fluff :33 cutie sevika, because i love her sm!!!

ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ

sevika who didn’t want the cat at all when you walked in with the purring creature . “sweetheart. i love you, and i put up with you ‘cause i love you but i do not want a cat.” sevikas gravily voice rang out from the kitchen, almost as soon as you walked in with the fluffy kitten in your arms. you thought he was cute, a fluffy black cat with green eyes, “but i already named him sevvvvv” you whined as you waddled happily over to sevika with the purring kitty in your arms, “he’s so cute baby, why can’t we keep him..?” you pouted staring at sevika with a frown.

sevikas taller frame towered over your own as she wrapped her arms around you . “because, i don’t want to clean litter boxes, and do whatever else you have to do to take care of a cat. don’t be a brat sweetheart.” she said pressing a kiss to your forehead. you held the kitty out in your arms, “but i found him in the rain, look at how cute he isss sev baby pleaseeee.” you protested, and for a moment it looked like sevikas face seemed to soften for a second while looking at the fur-ball purring in your arms, “i can’t just put him back outside.” yet another excuse came from you. “uhh, yes you can.” she said, though you just shoved the kitty into her arms and she tensed.

“just hang out with him, he already likes youuu!!! i’m gonna make us dinner baby.” you smiled, sevika groaned but didn’t protest knowing not to anymore. her arms outstretched with the cat like it was a bomb or something as she walked to the living room, “don’t hold him like that sevika. hold him normally.” you called from the kitchen though you couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping your lips at the obscene picture, you wouldn’t think you’d ever see sevika holding a cat.

she sat on the couch the cat curling into a ball on her lap, every muscle in her body was tense, “i don’t want this thing, what do i do with it ? it’s not like i can go play fetch or some shit like i can with a dog.” she grumbled, her eyes lingered on the soft rise and fall of the kittens belly as it kneaded it paws into her thigh, “ow! you little fuc-“ she cut herself off when she caught a look at you. “fucker…what’s its name?” she asked; her voice raspy as she turned on the tv, ready to watch her show. “it’s theo.” you murmured, “well. theo. is a little fucker.” she grumbled looking away from the kitten purring on her lap, she earned rolled eyes from you, and soft snores from the fluffy kitten in her lap as she watched her show, mumbling to herself.

sooner or later dinner was done, putting pasta on two plates for both sevika and yourself. making sure you poured yourself a glass of wine and sevika some whiskey. “sev baby? foods done.” you called softy, still shuffling around the kitchen for last minute things, you hadn’t heard anything coming from her in a while. humming to yourself as you put the dishes in the sink to clean later and walked out of the kitchen to find sevika. your sevika, snoring on the couch, the tv remote in her hand as theo purred in his sleep on her chest. “and you said you ‘didn’t want a cat’” you grumbled to yourself despite the giggle escaping your lips as you pulled out your phone to take a picture. sevika looked so calm, her face rested in a calm expression, her jaw wasn’t clenched, the usual wear of the day wasn’t creased into her eyebrow, she looked…at peace for once.

and this picture? oh you were gonna use it against her forever when she found out, but for now it would do as your wallpaper, your two babies. your pride and joys.

ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ .:*·゜♡゜・*:.ღ

anywhoo!!! i hoped you guys liked that, it was just a little something because sevikas been on my mind, i haven’t really written much lately but i’m trying to get back into it. i hope yall enjoyed!!! if yall want me to write something just ask😭😭 im gonna try and write more for sev just because i love her sm, so expect more lol😭😭

[manhwamuneca]

Most of this episode felt like they were so domestic....

[betweenblackberrybranches]

RLGL AU

Game night<3

[critter-creature-or-beast]

Submitted for classification by @livelaughratgirl

"Cocoa rabbit 😰"

[crisiscutie]

the reunion...is nothing to fear.

Pairing: Pregnant Darling/"Fluffy" Sephiroth

Word Count: 680

Content Warning: Psychological/Emotional Abuse.

The grandfather clock ticked away as Sephiroth traced the stretch marks of your swollen belly. He used his other hand to work the tension out of your back as you kept your focus on the clock. Judging by the time, your triplet boys aren't done with school yet. Few more hours. If only you could turn time faster. But it doesn't matter. The man you were trying to escape from has now invaded your new, lovely home, humming his favorite lullaby as you sat on his lap. Your new, lovely home, now corrupted by his presence. Maybe that's why your unborn child is kicking so much now; for you to get away from him.

Yet there was something peculiar about the way his hold on you felt. It's gentle and loving, but also constricting and possessive. You're almost like a poor fly caught in a spider's web. The spider is just waiting for the right moment to feast.

Despite the effort and hard work you put into escaping with your triplet boys, it amounted to nothing. Signs of Sephiroth's presence were always around you; Your precious boys kept asking about those strange dark feathers around your new home, their school, and even in other places, like your favorite grocery store. They wanted to know when their father would stop playing games. But you simply brushed it off, telling them that their father wouldn't be joining you all soon. They were confused, sad even, but they understood the hint to drop the subject. You hated saying that to them yourself, but it was necessary.

The dark feathers you saw were some of the many invitations to the reunion that you ignored. And now, this is fate. Your precious, innocent boys will become like their father. You still loved Sephiroth, but you could never love the path he took. His relentless slaughter of innocents and confining you all in his so-called "tower of love". That's why you had to get away from him. You tried your best, but this is where your "best" landed you.

Your baby's movements grew more forceful as he stopped tracing your stretch marks. He whispered into your ear with that same charming, velvety voice, but you knew it wasn't his old self. He still had that dark look around his slit eyes and a dangerous edge to his voice. You knew that his heart still beats for his family, but it's forever enshrouded in darkness.

"I wonder," he asked, "what name have you chosen for her?" Your dull eyes darted to your covered patio door, watching the rays of the beautiful sunlight slightly retract. You should have opened more windows when you returned from grocery shopping. You're amazed that you could still see in this gloomy and dark setting. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing your voice. But his question weighed heavily on your mind. It's true, you hadn't considered a name for your unborn child, let alone knew that it was going to be a girl. Your unexpected pregnancy with this little one almost deterred you from making your getaway with the triplets, but you pressed on. In the coming weeks, you were so focused on getting away from Sephiroth, you've neglected almost everything else. You didn't even have to turn around to see that his lips curled into a smirk, almost like he knew what you were thinking. His lips pressed against your ear, speaking in a lower, ominous voice.

"...JENOVA... A fine name for her."

Your eyes had widened at both his voice and his declaration. Naming your child after a dead family member wasn't unusual, but something about it had made your heart race. Your baby had ceased her kicking as his hold on you had grown slightly more constricting. Gazing weakly at the grandfather clock, you had realized that not much time had passed. He had begun his delusional ramblings, a dark chuckle echoing in your mind, as a lone tear had trailed down your cheek.

"The reunion at hand may bring joy, it may bring fear, but let us embrace whatever it brings."

This fic is based on one of my favorite prompts I've done so far on this blog. Context: The darling fled with her children to find a better life after Fluffy Sephiroth's corruption in this alternative path of the Domestic AU.

Yandere Domestic AU chronology: Christmas Kids | The Reunion is Nothing to Fear | Wait for me | Homecoming | The Crowning Moment

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

I Am All In Rewatch - Jess & Rory - Episode 3x18

Here he is all of a sudden completely domesticated, right.. Well, you know, he meets her and they what do we what movie watching? I want to watch this?... so they're so they're like this old couple all of a sudden, Like all of a sudden, he's just sort of like there's no edge to him. He's just I guess he's trying to get his act together and settle down and be a responsible guy, work up Wal-mart, get employee of the month. Doesn't need school because he's too bright. So he's really I think he's really focused on his relationship right? And now I think now I think he's like, you know what she's going off, She's going to meet some impressive guys...so I think he's like he realizes he's gonna lose her if he doesn't get his act together, because his act is going to get really old fast. And he's doing that....It's a common move on the East Coast. That's a move. It's a standard thing. It's East coast. Cause It's colder in the winder it's the move you do in the fall. -Scott

[bakutenshi]

Heal me

[luckyoctopus]

This was from me requesting some ZoSan prompts for Twitter 💕

~~

This was supposed to be 1 illustration buuut...oops...╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭

I had too much fun lol!! I hope y'all like it 💚💙

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXIX)

The difference between Abuse and Power

Read part one // Master-post // Continued from here

Sorry it took so long!!! But I made this chapter extra long to make up for it guys!!! I hope you enjoy💛

Merry Christmas and Happy New year!!! I hope you all have a great time and mind yourselves. Thank you all for your words of encouragement during the rough time and making me smile and laugh while I was stuck in the dreaded prison of writer's block, but we are back babyyyyyy.... enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

Kit heard Ambrose walking behind him. He tried his best to ignore him, but it didn’t really work because Ambrose’s stupid socked feet padded close behind as Kit walked the length of the first floor, away from Nathan and Jude. Away from the stairs Jude threw him down. Away from the abomination of healing and power that Nathan possessed.

“Kit,” Ambrose said eventually. Kit continued walking. He went through the next door on his left which opened up into a nice cozy looking library or study, or something, and walked over to the soft, navy plush couch in the far corner. He dropped into it, deflating like a balloon or a marionette with its strings cut. That’s all he was really, wasn’t it? A puppet.

Black eyes appeared in front of him, pleading, dark brows falling over them like a pitiful, sad puppy. “Kit, listen to me, everything I said and did before… I—”

“Don’t want to hear it?” Kit suggested, his shoulders bunched up around his ears. He felt his eyes water as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to stop it from quivering like a child. He raised his blue, bloodshot eyes to meet Ambrose’s stupid fucking demonic black ones.

“I don’t—” Kit said, scoffed, shrugged and ran his hands through his hair until his fingers tightened on the strands and started tugging on them just to show the kind of storm that was roaring in his mind outwardly. Not that Ambrose had to see a physical representation of his desperation. His blue eyes burned and red flashed across them like the glint of moonlight off a blade. Ambrose shrunk away from his crouch. His eyes widened slightly. “I don’t want to fucking hear it! Any of it. Your apologies, your guilt, your fucking excuses!”

Ambrose sat back onto his heels, even his stupid chocolate curls bounced perfectly, and Kit scoffed exasperated, ran a hand down his face, and wiped furiously at his tears with his thumb and index finger.

“I don’t give a fuck if you feel some kind of fucked up bond to me or whatever, Oskar!” Ambrose flinched. Good, Kit thought bitterly. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to fucking affect this bastard somehow. “I don’t care if you feel bad now, because trust me, we both know you didn’t give two shits when you thought I was just some random hero to terrorise!”

“Kit—” Kit lurched forward, getting his face close to Ambrose’s, his nose curled up in disgust.

“What happened to puppet, huh? What happened to a dog that only exists to obey? I would rather you looked at me like… like I was some fucking plaything for you to break and discard, instead of whatever fucking way you’re looking at me now. You’re—” Kit sucked in a breath, struggling not to hyperventilate. “You’re fucking sick, Rosey. You disgust me. And now I’m on house arrest from your crazy ex-boyfriend, who you seem to hate, but let’s face it, Rosey…”

Kit said. He licked his lips as if he had to prepare them for what he was about to say as he leaned in ever so slightly closer, lowering his voice to a whisper as he got close to Ambrose’s curls covered ear. “What kind of sane person would love you anyways?”

The door to the room swung open. Kit slunk back from Ambrose, his eyes dead and lifeless, expecting to be hurt for daring to insult Nathan’s precious toy but he didn’t care. It was worth it to see Ambrose flinch… to see him crestfallen for once.

But then why didn’t it feel good?

Why did he feel worse than before?!

Why has he become this cruel, hard thing? Was he always this way? Did Ambrose just hold up a mirror and reveal that to—

A flash of hands. Kit didn’t flinch, but his gaze snapped up to cold, furious silver eyes and eyes as cool as a lump of coal. “No,” Ambrose said, his voice soft.

“But—”

“No.” Kit’s eyes flickered back to Ambrose because that wasn’t sad, pathetic guilt-ridden Oskar speaking, that was Omen; commanding, controlled, even. A smirk slid its way onto Ambrose’s face, his black eyes turned even darker, glinting like light off a shard of onyx or jet, filled with humour and sardonic knowing and cruelty. A shiver ran down Kit’s spine as Ambrose used his leverage on Nathan’s hand to raise himself to his feet.

He didn’t break eye contact with Kit as he stood to his full height, which Kit only remembered was a good head taller than him, and then there were two sadistic giants looming over him. Kit fought the urge to shrink back and swallow. He wasn’t going to show them he was afraid. What would they do? Kill him? That would give him his first peaceful night’s sleep in weeks. Months?

“Oskar…” Omen tightened his fingers around Nathan’s wrist and brought his hand to his lips. Nathan stilled as Ambrose wrapped a second hand around Nathan’s long fingers, curling them as he lifted and pressed a kiss to Nathan’s knuckles.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, darling,” Ambrose said, his voice roiling like smooth velvet. Black eyes slunk towards Kit’s. “Especially not with the likes of washed-up heroes before their prime.”

Nathan stepped closer to Ambrose, his back to Kit. “I could kill him for you. Make you a scarf out of his entrails.”

Omen chuckled. Kit’s blood ran cold at the sound. He forgot how silently terrifying Omen could be; how terrifying Ambrose could be.

“You’re sweet,” is all Ambrose replied. He leaned up on his toes to kiss Nathan. Soft, sweet, short, before he pulled away. “But no. He’s used up already. I thought he would be fun to play with, but you can see as well as I can…”

Kit swallowed audibly, his fingers tightened into fists on his thighs as he looked away from the statue staring him down, making him feel two inches tall. “He’s got nothing inside worth taking anymore. He’s given up. He’s not worth the effort.”

Kit stared furiously at the bookshelf to his left, eyes skimming colourful titles trying to ignore the stabbing pain of betrayal in his chest. Isn’t that what he wanted? For Ambrose to stop pretending? Isn’t that why he poked and prodded him until—

“Kit,” Kit’s eyes widened as he felt Omen’s ability ghost through his mind like brain freeze. He shot up off the couch, and grabbed Ambrose’s arm, tightened, pleading.

“Rosey, don’t, pl—”

Ambrose grabbed Kit’s cheeks in one hand and squeezed tightly until Kit’s lips were forced to form a small ring. Kit’s hand shot up and grabbed Ambrose’s wrist, about to beg and plead again. Weren’t they past this? Was this all his fault? Was Ambrose really—

“I think you need a nice, long nap, Kit, don’t you?”

“No!” Kit protested.

“Mmmm, your eyes are feeling so heavy though, aren’t they? And your limbs are exhausted, and you need a really good rest to recover and fight again when you wake don’t you?”

Kit let out a small whine in the back of his throat… because yes, he was feeling tired, and a blissful sleep sounded so fucking good right now. At least then he could turn off the blaring voice in his head screaming danger, danger, danger at him.

“What danger, Kit?” Ambrose asked, his voice so soft and so, so far… away, as if it was a distant melody floating through the air in the other side of the house. Kit swayed on his feet and fell into Ambrose’s open arms. What danger was right, what was he thinking about? His thoughts were liquifying quickly in his mind and sliding slowly away from consciousness. “There we go,” Ambrose cooed, putting his fingers through Kit’s hair. “That’s it, just relax. You want to sleep, don’t you, Kit?”

“Yeah,” Kit mumbled. He went boneless against the villain as Ambrose sat the two of them on the couch again. Ambrose sat down where Kit was before and dragged Kit down with him who was too tired to resist. Kit curled up on the couch as Ambrose gently put Kit’s head on his lap which was as comfortable as a luxurious pillow. Maybe shutting his eyes for a few minutes would be okay, wouldn’t it? He needed his strength after all and… he yawned as Ambrose brushed a hand through his wild, uncut hair.

“That’s right, just a few minutes sleep, and you’ll feel amazing when you wake up.” Ambrose said. Kit didn’t really hear him, but he hummed in reply as his eyes shuttered closed, blissfully unaware of the scorching silver eyes glaring down at him.

***

Ambrose continued to stroke Kit’s hair as the hero’s breath evened out. Ambrose felt his weight droop heavier against him, drifting deeper into sleep in a matter of moments. He could feel Nate’s eyes on him, but he didn’t bother to look up at him, keeping his eyes fixed on the boy’s sleeping head and soft breaths. It was easier to ignore the questions in Nathan’s head and eyes and just focus on the sleeping Hero on him.

God, if only Kit would stay this way forever.

Not that Ambrose would want that, but it would be easier. Why did he have to fight him on everything? Even things that were good for him! It was… exhausting. If this is what having children felt like, Ambrose was almost certain he didn’t want any of the vile things… especially not if Kit remained in his life after all this was over.

He was enough of a handful as it was.

“Why Oskar?” Nate asked, his voice suddenly, terribly vulnerable.

Ambrose didn’t look at him. “I don’t know, Nate. I guess… I told you already. I took too much from him already.”

“That’s a cop out. We both know it.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Think what you want.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Ambrose knew it the moment it left his lips in a tired, defeated sigh. He could feel Nathan’s demeanour shift from confused to defensive in a second, his stance tensing, the air changing around them, becoming thick in Ambrose’s throat.

“Well, if you won’t give me any straight answers, how about I wake him, and ask—” Ambrose’s head snapped up, black eyes catching silver in their void stare.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

Nathan scoffed and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re impossible when you’re protective. This is like the Catherine situation all over again.”

Ambrose stiffened. “Don’t talk about her.”

Nathan smirked. He crossed his long arms over his torso, silver eyes gleaming. “It’s true,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder. An attempt to be casual that was anything but. “You always liked to collect strays, Oskar, it’s like a passion project of yours.”

Nathan’s eyes went to Kit in Ambrose’s lap, his fingers wound through the boy’s hair. “Though,” he continued, his voice dipping as his eyes caught Ambrose’s again. “This one you and your father have to share.”

Ambrose’s nostrils flared. “You’re just being cruel for the sake of it now, Nate.”

“So, what if I am?”

“Well, what about you, then?”

Nathan blinked.

“You and all your posturing and grandstanding, how you can absorb so many people’s abilities— mine, Jude’s, my father’s, Kit’s…” Ambrose listed, shrewdness possessing his weighted gaze as he tilted his head at his ex. “How you pretend it doesn’t bother you to hold all that power inside and maintain it there.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

It was Ambrose’s turn to scoff. The edge of his lips quipped up. “You say that, but I saw how weak you were after healing his wounds. You went pale after, dearest. If you think I wouldn’t notice that then you don’t know me at all.”

Nathan stared down his nose at Ambrose and the sleeping Hero. His eyes softened. “No… maybe I don’t anymore.”

Ambrose swallowed as Nate unfolded his arms. He walked a step closer and leaned down. Ambrose barely suppressed the flinch, but it didn’t matter because Nate could feel Ambrose’s stiffness when he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He smiled against the skin and pulled back.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He said, one hand still lingering on Ambrose’s cheek. He froze midway, and his touch turned bruising as he tilted Ambrose’s head to the side and forced him to look into his swirling, silver eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid, darling. You know how much I hate bruises on your pretty face.”

Ambrose stared as Nathan released him, watching as his psychotic ex walked away, grabbed the door and slammed it shut on the way out. Ambrose couldn’t suppress the flinch that time as he stared down at Kit. He didn’t stir. Still sound asleep. Unaware of Ambrose’s tremors of fear at Nathan’s farewell threat.

Oh, he knew how much Nathan hated bruises on his face alright… he knew all too well just how cruel he could truly be.

***

Six years ago…

Oskar and Max stumbled out of the University pub and down the streets back to their apartment in Old Town. God, what a night. What a glorious night, and how long had it been since Oskar could just let loose with Max like that? Get absolutely hammered. He laughed as he threw an arm around Max’s shoulder.

“I love you, Max.”

“That’s really gay,” Max replied, and the pair burst into snorting laughter. Oskar craned his neck down and pressed a wet kiss to Max’s hair as they walked towards Fagan’s lot. They didn’t notice the group of four guys approaching them until one of them shoulder checked Max.

“Woah!” Max said and Oskar turned, about to tell the dicks to watch it when one of them muttered something that chilled him to the core and froze him in place.

“Fucking fags.”

Max grabbed at Oskar’s arm, sensing the shift in his posture. “Oskar come on. They’re small minded—”

“Excuse me,” Oskar hissed. The men stopped and turned. Oskar shrugged Max’s hand off.

“Oskar, just leave it.” Max said.

“No, I won’t just leave it. What did these pricks mutter but not have any fucking balls to say to our faces, huh?”

Oskar went towards the tallest, broadest guy and shoved him back. “Huh? What the fuck did you say?”

“Oskar!”

“You better back off, lamppost and listen to your boyfriend or you’re gonna get hurt.” The tall— well, tallest of the group — broad man stank of beer and had a truly hideous beard. Both of which Oskar personally took offence to.

Oskar straightened to his full height, a good head and shoulders taller than this piece of shit and grinned sadistically down at him.

“You tell him Mitch.” One of the others said.

“Yeah,” another chimed in, “run back to your boyfriend, faggot.”

Oskar’s head snapped to the offender. He was the shortest of the group, blond – obviously he was fucking blond – with tiny pubic hairs tweezed onto his chin in the mock shadow of stubble. He was stick thin and looked like a fucking weasel with a sharp pointed nose and tiny squinting eyes.

“Number one,” Oskar said, holding a bony finger up. “Ew. I wouldn’t date this man if he was the last man on earth,” Oskar said.

Max blinked behind him. “Uh, ouch?!”

Oskar glanced back over his shoulder. “Hush. You know I love you.”

“Fucking queers, I swear to—”

Oskar turned back to glare at the men again. “Two, it’s fucking homophobic to use the words faggot and queer in a derogatory manner towards my friend and I, and I think you should fucking apologise. Right now.”

“Or what?” Mitch challenged stepping forward.

Oskar’s eyes darkened. “Or else. You only get one chance to do the decent thing.” He said, holding his index finger up, his dark eyes searched Mitch’s face, trying to convey how serious he was. “One.”

“Show this fucking princess what real men do.”

Oskar sighed, his head dipped, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I did warn you.”

Mitch went to throw a punch and Oskar stepped back. He caught Mitch’s arm and punched him in the face before shoving him back and kicking him away. Oskar brushed away the curls that fell into his eyes before throwing his arms up in defence of his face from another of the dick’s punches.

“For,” Max began, punctuating his sentence with punches, “fuck’s” punch and the guy went down, “sake, Oskar.”

Oskar grinned. “They’re little bitches, Max, what do—”

Oskar’s head whipped to the side suddenly. He didn’t see his attacker come upon him until he was already hit, fire raging in his cheekbone and someone was cursing as a fist drew back. Another blow came from below, knuckles cracking against his jaw. Oskar stumbled back. His head turned skyward as his bottom teeth snapped against his top and ricocheted through his skull.

He didn’t see the third blow come for his solar plexus. The fist landed and Oskar shot forward as he wheezed a startled sound. A hand caught his cheek and slammed a palm against his nose. Oskar cried out as blood gushed down his face, gasping as he stumbled back again, the world dizzy with tears as his eyes watered reflexively.

Then.

Heat in front of him.

Oranges and yellows licked against the air, standing between Oskar and the homophobes. Warm blood turned cold as it poured from Oskar’s nose and trickled down through his fingers and onto his clothes.

“Yeah, who’s the little bitch now?”

Max scoffed. “Fuck off, asshole.”

“Should’ve known you were freaks too,” one of them said. Oskar’s eyes narrowed, tears spilling over his eyelids as he straightened. He could feel his eyes go the same red as his blood and he put a hand on Max’s shoulder, stepping past him.

“Oskar,” Max said. Caution coloured his voice as Oskar stepped around the human fire ball. “Don’t.”

“Fuck it, why not?”

“Oskar! You can’t—”

“Mitch,” Oskar said. The words sounded as sweet as a melody. Irresistible, and why would you want to resist? He knew the moment it hit Mitch’s ears because he paused as the honeyed words swam into his ears. “Kiss the best looking of your friends.”

Mitch obeyed without question.

He chose the second strongest of the four, grabbed his cheeks and slammed his lips against them. The other two, including the little weasel looked a little annoyed more than angered by the fact that Mitch didn’t find them attractive.

Oskar tilted his head to the side and grinned horribly at them. “Aww, feeling left out, uglies? It’s okay. The two of you kiss too.”

“Itch… off…” the good-looking one said, trying to shove Mitch off of him.

“Oskar! Stop it!”

“Why should I?” Oskar demanded, his little finger twitching as rage consumed him. “Maybe I should make them fuck each other in the street like dogs. Maybe then they’ll learn some fucking manners.”

Heat singed the edges of Oskar’s ear, burning away the stray baby curls. Oskar gasped, jumping to the left and cupping his ear with his hand. He looked over his shoulder to see Max glaring up at him.

“What the fuck?” He hissed.

“What the fuck yourself! Tell them to stop! Tell them to forget!”

Oskar straightened. His pride getting the better of him. “Why should I?”

“You know right well why Mr Law major! You know how unethical this is?! I’m serious. Tell them to stop right now, or else.”

Oskar kept Max’s burning stare for a moment longer before the rage dissipated like smoke in the darkness. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Fine,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned back to the group of dickheads.

He walked over to the group and told them, “okay loverboys. Enough.”

The group pulled away from each other disgusted. The good looking one, the one that had gotten the punches in on Oskar’s face wiped furiously at his mouth. “What the fuck, Mitchell? Why did you do that? What about Diane?”

Mitch stared at his hands, his face a putrid shade of red. “I- I… I don’t know why I did it… I-” He looked up then at Oskar who stood smugly, hands in his tailored trouser pockets, reeking of expensive cologne and tangible satisfaction. All a farce, a fake, a falsehood, the Oskar that Oskar created after his departure from his legacy role as a hero. “You…” Mitch said, raising a shaking hand. “It was you! You told me… and I- I couldn’t…”

Oskar tilted his head to the side, his smirk widening, exposing his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Couldn’t resist? Maybe you just really fancied him.”

A sharp slap to Oskar’s arm and he yelped as Max stepped up beside him, smog rising from his ears and Oskar felt his blood run cold. “Ow!”

“Tell them to forget. Now.”

“Forget?” The weasel one asked, looking just as terror struck as Mitch and the others. “Make us forget?!”

“You’re a monster!” The other one said.

Oskar bent low and said: “boo.”

The weasel actually flinched. Oskar would have laughed if Max wasn’t about to roast him over the grills of hell, so Oskar clapped his hands together. “Okay, idiots, listen up. You will forget you ever met me or Max tonight. You will forget our faces. You will forget you called us faggots. And…” Oskar glanced at Max sideways and grinned. “Whenever you think of calling someone queer or gay, or faggots, you will remember kissing your friends today. And you will also donate your life savings to a charity for LG–”

Oskar flinched when he felt a lick of heat against his face. “Okay. Not your life savings, but you will donate a small donation fee to any LGBT charity in the city and be general allies to the queer community from now on, capiche?”

The four men nodded dumbly. Oskar straightened with a clap. “Good. Wonderful. Later losers.”

Oskar walked off down Fagan’s lot whistling a happy tune. “Happy with yourself, are you?” Max asked behind him.

Oskar laughed. “Yup. Pretty damn satisfied.”

“That was fucked up, Oskar.” Oskar paused, his smile dimming. Max walked around to his front. “You know that was wrong.”

Oskar let out a huff of breath. “They were fucked up, Max! I’m sick of walking around like I don’t have this power! Something I can use to–”

“To ruin people’s lives?”

“You’re being dramatic.” Oskar said, waving away Max’s dramatics.

“No!” Max protested, gathering Oskar’s attention. “I’m not! Did you hear that guy? Mitch had a wife, or a girlfriend, what if he had kids?”

“Poor kids.” Oskar replied coldly.

Max grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him back against the wall. Oskar’s black eyes widened with surprise at Max’s force. “Don’t you see how fucked up that could be? Telling him to donate his life savings to a charity? What about his wife? His bills? His kids?”

“Maybe being a shitty person means you deserve to have your life fall apart!”

“Is that why yours did?” Max demanded, eyes ablaze. Oskar stiffened under Max’s knuckles. Max may as well have slapped him for the reaction his words caused. Max’s grip loosened. “Oskar…” he said softly.

“No,” Oskar replied. He ran a hand through his hair that had fallen over his eyes, casting them in shadow. God, he really needed a haircut. “No, you’re right. I… I was reckless and I was irresponsible and… you’re right. I’m sorry.”

A silence fell between them. After a minute, Max let go of Oskar’s shirt and let him stand up properly. A grin cracked Max’s handsome face then. “But… it was satisfying to see how horrified they were after kissing each other.”

Oskar grinned and let out a little laugh. “Right?” And just like that they were back to normal and walking down to their apartment block, laughing up the stairs and into the dingy apartment, Max struggling to open the door, having to kick it once, twice, three times, but it stayed stubbornly closed.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Max cursed, and shouldered the door open. The door slammed in and Max stumbled and nearly hit the floor if it wasn’t for Oskar grabbing his arm at the last second, laughing as Max cursed.

“Fucking door!”

“About time you got home.”

The two boys straightened at the voice. Oskar helped to steady Max before he went looking for his boyfriend in the apartment. “Nate? What’re you doing here?” Oskar asked with a big smile on his face. When Nate turned his expression immediately darkened and he was in front of Oskar in a second, hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up.

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

Oskar waved him away and went into give Nate a kiss, he missed him he realised. It had only been a few days since they had seen each other, but still. Oskar was drunk and his boyfriend was here, and he was happy.

Nate’s strong hands stopped Oskar from kissing him and Oskar let out a small whine. “What’re you–”

“What. The fuck. Happened to your face?” Nathan asked again and Oskar shrunk under the tightness in his tone. His fingers dug uncomfortably into Oskar’s cheeks and Oskar grabbed Nathan’s wrists and tried to pull them off, but he didn’t budge.

“Nate… Nate,” Oskar said, gasping, eyes pained and pleading. “Nathan, you’re hurting me!”

“What happened to your face?”

“Get off me, Nathan!”

Max appeared between the two and Nathan released Oskar. Oskar took a heavy step back; betrayal pinched his features tight on his face. Oskar shrunk under Nathan’s glare, horribly aware that he had done something wrong and now Nathan was mad, and he hated when Nate got mad.

“Just some douchebags, Nate,” Max said, cutting through the thick tension in the room. “It’s fine. We gave as good as we got.”

“Whoever laid a hand on you…” Nathan said, his voice small, but holding back the ferocity of a storm on the sea. His eyes bright with a cold fury. “Whoever dare hurt you…” he said, his expression softening as he stepped forward and cupped Oskar’s face in his hand again. Oskar flinched when Nathan put his hands on him and wanted to curl up at the look of hurt that passed across his boyfriend’s face. “Your poor face…”

“I’ll live,” Oskar whispered and stepped out of Nathan’s hold.

Max looked between the two. He threw his hands up. “Yeah. I’m also fine, Nate, thanks for asking.”

“Oh shush,” Nathan purred, waving Max away. “You’re like a cockroach, you’ll never die.”

“You could still show some concern. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Oskar excused him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom, his hands shaking violently as he slammed the door shut and locked it. He put his back against the door and gasped when he saw himself in the mirror above the sink. Fuck… fuck… fuck…

Fuck, tears welled up in his black eyes and Oskar felt sick suddenly. A warm feeling climbed his stomach, and he lurched towards the toilet and threw up into the bowl. Not a second later a knock at the door and Oskar froze.

“Osk? Babe, you okay?” Oskar had to tighten his fingers on the toilet to stop his hands from shaking.

It’s fine, he told himself. It’s just a crash from the adrenaline of the fight. It’s fine. He’s fine.

“Oskar?” A rattle of the doorknob and Oskar flinched hard again.

Yeah… the fight, totally what he was afraid of…

The next day when Oskar was walking back to the University, he passed a bloody crime scene that made his skin prickle and crawl, and his blood run cold. “Do we have an ID of the bodies?”

“Good thing we had their IDs, or they’d all be John Doe’s.” One of the investigators said. “I don’t know what did this, but it looks too violent for an animal, too… vicious. Calculated.”

Oskar stopped walking. “Mitchell… Dawkins…” One of the lead detectives said and Oskar turned back, and half ran home and up the stairs to his apartment. He had to throw up again as he stumbled into his apartment, sick to his stomach as nausea climbed thick up his oesophagus. All he could think of was Nathan’s hands on his face, the fury in his eyes… the… oh god… no… there… Nathan couldn’t have done something like that… but somewhere, somewhere deep down, Oskar knew he was lying to himself and that thought made him hurl more than the crime.

***

Ambrose stared down at the sleeping Hero in his lap, his bony fingers gently running through his matted hair, combing out the knots of dirt and blood. “Don’t worry, Kit,” Ambrose whispered. “I won’t let him do that to you. I promise. We’ll get out of here. Together. I promise. Just give me time.”

*~*~*~*~*

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[virgothozul]

Ok. I have listened to the people. I have watched the thing. It is very wholesome.

Kazu comes home. He is hopeless and tipsy. And he swings between excited and wasted.