#finally I can peg that white ghost

[dollya-robinprotector]

Words can't describe how proud I feel to finally get revenge on that floating Lovecraftian horror

[five-rivers]

Bring Your Ghost To School Day

AO3

For @phantomphangphucker

Valerie felt pleased with herself.  Sure she would have preferred to catch the ghost dog, or Phantom (take him down a few pegs), but if she was being honest with herself, showing up to the Paranormal Self Defense class practicum with Phantom in tow would have raised way too many questions.  Most of her classmates would probably come in with blob ghosts.  

Although she has heard a few scheming to get the Box Ghost…

Whatever.  Finally catching that slimy, scaly, slippery giant ghost worm nicely straddled the line between what was feasible for her from an outside perspective and what she, personally, considered an accomplishment.  

She walked into the classroom with her head held high and set her Fenton Thermos mk. 10 (the only containment device approved for the class) squarely in the center of her desk.  

Star twisted in her seat to face her.  "Hey, Val, what didya get?"

"Giant ghost worm."

"Nice.  That'll be pretty unique.  Pauli and I tried to tag-team some ectopuses over the weekend but we were only able to get one.  Good thing I had a backup blob ghost, right?"  She sighed.  "They're so fat and cute.  I wonder if they can be domesticated."

Valerie doubted it, but she shrugged noncommittally.  The rest of the class dribbled in over the next fifteen minutes, with Danny sliding through the door just before the bell rang, as usual.

"Alright class," said Mr. Lancer, wheeling forward the class's Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™.  "As you all should know, today, your practicum is due.  You will be coming up one by one and releasing your ghost into the-" he sighed, then inhaled deeply, "-Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™, whereupon you will explain to the class how you located and captured the ghost in question.  When you are finished, you will recapture the ghost and place your thermoses on that shelf, to be picked up by the Fentons for, yes, Miss Manson, ethical release into the Ghost Zone.  Any questions?"

Dash raised his hand.  "Can I get an extension?"

Mr. Lancer turned his gaze briefly towards the ceiling.  "See me after class, Mr. Baxter.  Any other questions?  No?  Then, do we have any volunteers?"

All hands stayed down.  Hey, Valerie was proud, but not volunteering to present first proud.  That was crazy.

"That's fine, I'll just pick randomly, then.  Mr. Gregor, you're first."

Elliot stood up and made his way to the front of the classroom like a man made to walk the plank.  He stuck his thermos into the socket on top of the Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™ and hit the release button.  Blue-white light briefly filled the space.  When it cleared there was…

Nothing.

"Hey!" shouted Dash.  "It's empty!"

"No, it's not!  It's Youngblood!"

"I must confess," said Mr. Lancer, "it does look empty."

"You just can't see him because all of you are adults already, and I don't turn eighteen until July!"

Danny raised his hand.  "Neither do I."

Elliot looked like he wanted to argue for a moment, but then his shoulders slumped forward.  "Aw, man.  You couldn't let me have this?"

Mr. Lancer tapped a dial on the front of the Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™ with his pen.  "The ecto-detector would have outed you–" 

There were a number of snickers from the jocks' side of the room.  

"--in any case, Mr. Gregor.  You can return to your seat, now."  He made a note on his clip board.  "My homework is invisible to adults is a new excuse for the books, though.  Mr. Fenton, you're next."

"'Kay," said Danny, passing Elliot on his way up.  "Prepare yourselves to be amazed!"  He slotted his thermos into place and hit the release button.  

Valerie shielded her eyes from the light and suppressed a laugh.  She was glad Danny had actually gotten something, considering how skittish he was about ghosts, but that intro was–

"Daniel!  Release me this instant!"

Wait, what the heck?

Valerie looked up to see Vlad Plasmius glaring at Danny through the walls of the Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™.  Vlad Plasmius.  Better known as Vlad Masters.  Mayor of Amity Park.  Richest man in the world.  Scarily powerful ghost with a great disguise.

She felt her jaw drop.

"May I introduce to you, the Wisconsin Ghost!"

"It's Plasmius, you insufferable brat!"

Mr. Lancer cleared his throat.  "Mr. Fenton, did your parents help you catch this… Plasmius?"

"I borrowed some equipment from them, but that's within the rules, right?"

"Let me out!"

"Hey, you heard Mr. Lancer.  You'll be released into the Ghost Zone after school with everyone else."

"Speaking of which, you should start your presentation."

"Oh, right.  So, what happened was that I snuck up on him while he was monologuing in his evil lair and hit him over the head with–"

"You did not!  And I don't have an evil lair!"

"That's debatable, but you know what?  Fine," groaned Danny.  "Spoilsport.  Anyway, I started by baiting my trap with cheese–"

"Daniel!"

"I pretended to be the mayor of Green Bay and called–"

Plasmius hissed at him.  

"Okay, okay, what I really did was tell Mr. Lonely Cat Guy that I'd tell him my mom's number if he helped me with a school project."

"Mr. Fenton," started Mr. Lancer, obviously concerned.

"It was a lie, of course!  Guys and girls, the only ghost you should give digits to is Phantom."

"That is not what happened!"

"My man, I'm trying to make this less embarrassing for you.  Work with me here."

"Mr. Fenton, must I remind you that this practicum is a graduation requirement?"

"No, no, I've got it.  But it is, like, super embarrassing for him."

Honestly, Valerie didn't know why she was surprised at this point.  Danny never had normal presentations.  Not since the gorilla thing.  

“What are you talking about?” snarled Vlad.  

“Aw, it sounds like it was so traumatizing he doesn’t even remember it…”

“Mr. Fenton, please.”

Danny shrugged.  “I told him I’d be more likely to consider letting him adopt me if he could win a fight with Fright Knight, because, like, that’s something I could do in Freshman year, and he’s never beaten him, and when he showed up afterward to gloat I snuck up behind him and souped him.”

“Backstabber!”

“The worst part is that I didn’t even think he’d do it.  Like, I’ve made exactly zero attempt to hide the utter disdain I feel for this man.  It was a joke.  I said I didn’t expect him to do it, but apparently he took that as a taunt or challenge or whatever.  I was just going to bring Wade, but then he showed up this morning, so I was like, why not?”

“Wade?” asked Mr. Lancer.  

Danny reached into his hoodie’s front pocket and pulled out the teeniest tiniest blue-green blob ghost.  “This is Wade.  I call him that because I found him in a pool.”

Wade squirmed out of Danny’s grip and flew up to chew on his hair.  

“You know you aren’t supposed to bring uncaptured ghosts into the school,” said Mr. Lancer tiredly.  

“That’s what your focus on?” ranted Vlad.  “And you call yourself a teacher–” 

“And that’s enough.”  Mr. Lancer reached over to hit the capture button and disengaged the thermos.  “You can go back to your seat now, Mr. Fenton.  Mr. Ishiyama?”

Kwan bounded up to the Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™ and gleefully slammed his thermos down into the socket.  “I caught the Box Ghost!”

“Oh, no,” muttered Danny.  

“BEWARE!  I AM THE BOX GHOST AND– Oh, my, this is a lovely box.  Is it for me?  I ACCEPT THIS TRIBUTE!  FEAR ME!”

The Fentonworks™ Ghost Glass™ Containment Cube™ began to levitate.  Valerie pulled her class-approved ecto-pistol from her bag.  Honestly, in retrospect, something like this was bound to happen.  At least, she noted, seeing all of her classmates pull out their approved ecto-pistols, she wouldn’t be the only one stuck fixing it this time.

[justcreatingthings]

I finally fished that test short fic that I got the idea for after making this art. Let me know if these grammatical error or what I can improve on when writing the characters! Haven’t written in ages… Anyways,

✨ENJOY!✨

*drops this at y’all’s feet and skitters off*

Cuddles and Worries

In a well known manor, chatting and laughter can be heard from behind a set of giant white doors. Those doors lead into a room that might be considered “living-quarters” to some, but the being who resides in this room is not exactly part of the “living” realm… He just tends to rest here most times when he desires privacy from prying eyes! Specifically his fans that know nothing about personal space! Though, as of late, this room has occasionally also been shared with someone else…

“-and that tree had a wasp nest living in it even though no one has ever seen a wasp anywhere near that area! Oh, how horrific it was to witness her swell… ‘Twere as if her head became that of a…ginormous, maggot infested tomato! Turned out that the poor lady was terribly allergic!!”, ranted a hunchbacked Rabbid named T.S Woodrow. He is currently wearing a matching pajama set with a nightcap on his head.

“Oh mon Dieu, ça épouvantable! Did any of those horrid creatures decide to instead go after you?!”, exclaims Phantom, a rotund ghost rabbid laying underneath Woodrow, with concern written all over this face. Woodrow finds Phantom’s ghost half to be softer than a giant cloud so he chooses to lay upon it when they cuddle, just like how they are right now. Phantom is laying with his back on the bed, and Woodrow’s belly touching his own. They have taken this cuddle position so often that Phantom has even joked about how he’s now become Woodrow’s personal bed! Woodrow continues his tale of the day as he kicks one of his hind paws in the air as if he were a school girl talking on the phone with a close friend.

“They did not, for the wasps seemed dedicated to stinging every last inch of her! She was quickly taken into urgent care, but only once the wasps had worn themselves out. At that point, the bugs stayed down upon the ground and did not move even an inch more! The little bugs had worn themselves out in their rage… Luckily the lady lived in the end, but now she refuses to go near any trees on the off chance it might happen again. I, of course, do not blame her in the slightest.”

“I am very glad no harm came to you directly after you recited that poem, but I hope you do try to be safer in the future… I trust you will, but you know I worry about your safety when I cannot be at your side at all times outside this home…”

“We have spoken on this a multitude of times, and I promised to you that I would stay safe. I survived on my own with this curse in the past, and I shall continue to do so in the present and future. Just look around at the destruction surrounding us! Even now, as I’ve spoken to you a myriad of poems during this conversation, neither of us have been harmed nor injured!,” Woodrow exclaims as he directs Phantom to look upon the room and take in the disrepair it is in. There are shards of broken glass laying upon the ground from fallen vases and picture frames, and there seems to be water leaking out from underneath the bathroom door. Woodrow feels a hand touch his cheek and he lets it gently move his face to once again stare back at Phantom, whom only looks back with pure love and adoration.

“Mon poète bien-aimé… I promise I was not speaking of the beautiful chaos cause by your hypnotic poems… I am just worried some ruffian will try to harm you do to your affiliation with me. You have only been here for all but a week, and I know in the past you rarely left Palette Prime… I have a very long list of people whom always try to knock me down a peg or two every day, even if it’s at the cost of someone else’s safety’ …I just want you to put your safety first and foremost when you leave without me… Without you, my life would still be lost in a cycle of loneliness!”

Phantom smiles slightly and his thumb rubs against Woodrow’s cheek in a soothing manor. Woodrow leans into the soft touch and smiles back at him before replying.

“ You really are an Angel, Phantom… I promise I shall be safer when I go out alone. I shall be aware of my own surrounding at every turn. If I must do something to help you worry less, I would not be supposed to a costume of sorts..?”

“Oh, c'est une MERVEILLEUSE idée, mon amour! We can turn it anti a makeover of sorts tomorrow! I’ve always wanted to see you in a suit~ Of course, I’ll let you give me a makeover of sorts as well! Only fair that both of us get to pick out the other’s wardrobe rather than just one of us!” Phantom looks at Woodrow with excitement over the fashion possibilities and he can better understand Woodrow’s chosen sense of fashion.

Both of them share a little laugh, and then continue to cuddle and talk late into the night about different topics. Eventually Woodrow passes out and Phantom holds him close to him, being careful not to jostle him too much. Once settled, Phantom closes his eyes do the ghost equivocal to sleeping, closing his eyes and day dreaming about what tomorrow holds. Anything is possible so long as he has his lover right by his side, and the same vise versa.

[jurisffiction]

okay i've been listening to Ghost Quartet the live album specifically Subway and The Photograph on repeat. and I Don't Know and The Astronomer and Four Friends and Prayer and Hero and The Wind & Rain. but let's focus on subway and the photograph.

join me in a space of trying to make a square peg fit a round hole in merging this with iwtv. ideally when i do this the outcome final aim is always "fully injective/surjective mapped amv" but i am already concurrently editing 21 iwtv amvs so that doesnt necessarily need to occur here and also i dont think it can. for reasons which i am about to explicate

also obviously just on top this is like. a song cycle that came of four white friends drinking whiskey and telling each other tales and categorically does not relate to the racial dimensions of the literal Trial. it's that and the sense of blame and responsibility for an accident versus a crime that makes this really not work at heart. But it's a shortways off, not completely orthogonal, which makes the diffraction patterns so nice to watch on the walls...

so where do you start. and obviously this is just taking the incident at the heart of Subway and not. any of the other stories. though my god i'd love to edit the entire song cycle to visuals. like I want to do with Aim & Ignite and Supernatural. Anyway. putting that aside. First instincts obviously Louis is The Photographer. he's. well. evidently. And it kind of feels like it works, except he doesn't have any of the usual archetypical thematics of photographers. being one myself i do very much resonate with the trope as threaded into the song cycle: the photographer is wracked by her inaction, her selfishness to capture others for personal benefit, but also is part driven by the want to capture the wonder of life and loved ones and see stories everywhere. Louis . well i mean very much to the point he is not so good at photography.

However, the beating heart of the song The Photograph would align very well if it is about Louis's self-hating cycles of regret. I'll table that thought for now because we'll come back to The Photograph in sequence.

Subway is a bit easier to work with, even if it produces less clear answers. Subway lays out for us a dramatis personae more close to the surface than elsewhere:

There's a driver

there's a victim

there's a pusher

there's a photographer

and,

the driver zones out

the victim plays a game

the pusher screams out

the photographer doesn't help

and,

the driver can't stop

the victim can't climb

the pusher can't stop

the photographer doesn't help.

Claudia is the victim. The driver and the pusher would be slots filled by Santiago and Armand but perhaps also the audience as jury. This also sets a frame where we're believing Armand's (and broader, the kind of post-1800s statistical/sociological storytelling) view of this all as inevitable at an individual level; events set in unstoppable motion (by Louis, The Photographer, and his arrival? His turning of Claudia?).

Santiago would be my first thought for Pusher because, well, but he also kind of works quite well as Driver (though this doesn't align outside of this particular track in the cycle). Similar conclusions for the audience as Driver or Pusher.

Of course, then, Armand works as Pusher or Driver in the shallow sense that he's in one of the blame roles; what does not work is that he holds far more of the active blame by any kind of ethical checkover of events. By the songs' arc, this places him as The Photographer. But you follow that line of thinking into The Photograph, and he is most certainly not haunted by a ghostly Claudia.

Taking that thought forward, you could make Lestat The Photographer: every time he closes his eyes, he sees her eyes, haunting. It works, but something prevents me from ascribing that specific kind of cyclic introspection of inaction in the song to Lestat by its so much more obvious fitting with Louis — who, to be clear, doesn't fit it by any external view of events we have, but simply by his own reflections on events at various points in the story.

But there's the kind of wavering issue of agency, where Louis obviously even by the stretchiest of views of the show canon can't just "help" and save Claudia from Armand. Or, by another way in, he does choose and try to help multiple times over and it doesn't actually save her. Much of a muchness either way, it grates a bit having the story told as Armand/Santiago/the Audience being roles that simply couldn't stop, Claudia merely pushed, and Louis the one who could have gotten her out but didn't. I suppose this is the foundational flaw here: that Subway is an accident (the taking of the photograph specifically being the motivated crime), while the Trial is not. (You could have Lestat and Louis as The Photographer both, but this gets muddy, I think.)

That's sort of the pause moment I reach in the thinking. I keep going back and forth; no particular setting seems to settle for long.

I really also like the list of mirror roles they read for would-be Claudia for would-be Louis (this version coming from Midnight): his sister, his lover, his child, his best friend, his little girl.

Oh, the other thought: who is the Man on the Platform — screaming about the apocalypse? In the versions I switch to and from— wait. Interlude.

As mentioned before, if you make Santiago or the Audience a role in Subway, it can't quite carry through the cycle as well as making them one of four core repeating roles (or, I suppose, alternatively making one of the core roles also play Santiago or the Audience, but the others...are there anyway, as themselves). So you instead, perhaps, have Armand and Lestat as either Driver or Pusher.

Jumping back to the Man on the Platform, then, if you leave either of them out, Armand or Lestat could, somehow, play him. Most irritatingly, this works slightly better for Lestat (re: Akasha, and being out of his own mind in the Trial), but he also works much better for the narratively-coerced roles of Driver or Pusher more than Armand. Especially Pusher, given the Pusher screams in the moment. You could, I suppose, have Armand's "I could not prevent it," sideline posturing behind the scythe as his screaming about the apocalypse, as in, a performance for distraction. Hm.

You could have Daniel as the Man simply because of his role in watching it all and knowing how it goes from his vantage in the future. I don't love it, but it's something. Or you could double and have the Man be the Ghost of Claudia, screaming that she'll come back and haunt them all (revelation).

Ah well!

If you're reading this and you're not me, good god.

Postscript note: I also thought last night that you could do essentially a Ten/Rose edit for The Photograph (though the sort of soap opera tonal aesthetic of 2006 era Doctor Who may seem a touch melodramatically ill-fitting with the song overlaid), with the beautiful coda touch of Rose is the same as everyone else., i.e., The Doctor loses so many people in this same way. And then I thought, that's indulgent, and also, I had misremembered the entire song, and Rose is The Photographer, so it's all moot. But also:

so that's lovely.

Postscript note 2: Claudia as Starchild (who reflects on being blessed — and abducted — by a stranger and the impact it had on her life)... it doesn't really work beat-by-beat. But...

Postscript note 3: Good god, everything about them having lived so many lives and forgotten all they are. If Armand was even a jot more of — well, I suppose, a human. So that's pointless to fantasise. But if he was, the lines of Scheherazade in Tango Dancer: I have a lot of memories, and I have a lot of sadness, but the two don't line up, the two don't line up / and I'm haunted by that memory of who I used to be / I was empty then, and I'm empty now, but it's not the same at all. would be beautiful. It works, somewhat, for Louis as well. And the opening: I've got a thousand one stories, every single one of them's a lie.

Of course, moreso than specific racial themes, or the apportioning of blame, the real difficulty in match-cutting the song cycle and the show is Ghost Quartet is so much about the human sense of wonder, and clinging to it, overall much more optimistic than Vampire, which even with its sense of forgiveness must remain more cruel-hearted and cold much of the time.

One blossoms at the thought of regrowing your sense of creative wonder with you the audience, the other sort of carries the same ideological imperative but via the tragedy that is the fact the vampires cannot recapture that wonder reserved for humans. The concluding Prayer: I will try to forgive myself, for living in the dark, for my loss of wonder, for forgetting how to play. I will try to forgive myself, for being absent in public, and bored before stars; for not remembering, for not being in my body, for not starting right now. I will try to see myself as I am. just does not seem like something an eternal being could ever sing with sincere believing commitment.

[thesernotthedroidsurlooking4]

Final Ahsoka thoughts

I… okay. That was okay. But it was kind of just okay. I… hoo boy this might be unpopular. But.

… Live action Ahsoka never started being Ahsoka to me. She just isn’t it. The low voice, the stony delivery. While perhaps it wasn’t a total miss—sometimes a mannerism hit, like a smirk, or a flicker of body language—those glimpses of true Ahsoka only made me realize how excited/invested I would be if that was her consistent, constant portrayal. And, thus, how disengaged I really feel without seeing Ahsoka through the screen. It’s like a split-second glimpse of color in a black-and-white world—it only makes you thirst more for that world of color you can’t have. And I long for animated Ahsoka and Ashley Eckstein so, so, badly it hurts. I tried to get into Rosario Dawson, I really did. I just… can’t do it. The spark is missing. And without that spark of excitement, the show just couldn’t hit for me.

I don’t think it’s even just the actor’s portrayal, though—this might be controversial, but I don’t see where the arc or development is. Sure, there was an attempt at one, that I can vaguely pick out: Ahsoka is angsty and sad over Anakin. She’s chasing Thrawn. Ahsoka tries to take on her own padawan and finds it difficult, digging up her own fraught feelings over her apprenticeship. Ahsoka goes through a Force vision, reckons with her past, gains peace, and ends up, according to her, where she needs to be.

Except… all of this falls apart upon further probing. It’s all so vague, so blurry, and lacking proper framing. Unless you’ve really done your Star Wars homework and are willing to do the analytic heavy lifting through the force of your own sheer nerd-dom… is the audience really shown her motivations? Her deeper feelings?

Why is Ahsoka shown that intense Force vision at that moment, in episode 5? What induced it? She didn’t seem to stumble across a powerful Force artifact that caused it, did she? Then the only answer is for her to be at such an intense crossroads, such a deep internal conflict, that she had to work it out via the Force. Except… what crisis, what turning point? All we’ve seen at that point is some general my-master-went-darkside angst, and a momentary defeat (but considering the sheer amount of fights Ahsoka has been in, that isn’t special.) So why? Why then? What was the driving need or purpose of the Force vision sequence?

…why, to introduce the casual fans to her backstory and Skywalker connection, and to appeal to nostalgia for the Clone Wars fans. That’s it. For all the meta we can write about the light side/dark side struggle, about her relationship to Anakin, to the order, to the war, et cetera—it’s nothing new. It’s all been done before, and when Ahsoka comes out in the white cloak Gandalf/style, as if she’s been enlightened… I couldn’t buy it, because what enlightenment? Where was the epiphany? What did she truly face that she hasn’t already? What meaning did she really make out of all that jumble? Heck, we aren’t even shown if that vision’s Anakin had anything of real, Force Ghost Anakin in him or not, and it seems like we’ll never know. It’s all so vague. And sure, maybe vague and light-handed is the more delicate way to handle some stories, but there needs to be more framing in order to make the subtlety work. I just didn’t see it.

And why, exactly, does barely-Force-sensitive Sabine want to be a Jedi? We aren’t told. Why did Ahsoka agree to train her in the first place? Since when is Sabine Force-sensitive to any degree at all? Or did she develop the sensitivity through rigorous training? What is Ahsoka’s interest in training such a non-traditional Jedi? This could be fascinating to explore, if we were shown it. A lot of us could get excited about an Ashoka-style non-traditional Jedi order, about her pioneering a different way of how to go about using the Force. But all we can do is extrapolate. Forcing Sabine, the Mandalorian square peg into a Jedi-shaped round hole, just ended up as it started: a dubiously plausible retcon meant only for some cheap Master-Apprentice parallels.

The ending, too… why is that galaxy where Ahsoka needs to be? What does she mean by telling Sabine to let it go (implying she’s letting go, too)? Is she letting go from fighting, because she’s used violence for too long? Some of that theme was there, sure—but to what end? How are the two of them supposed to do anything on that planet? Why is Ezra supposed to have just left them behind?

anyways, less eloquently, because I’m getting tired of typing: Ezra is the best, I love him, best damn part of this show by a kriffing mile, and Sabine was great when she wasn’t being forced to be a Jedi. I loved seeing Anakin soooo much, but honestly, it’s probably just the nostalgia talking. that’s it that’s what I got out of this show

[noxspost]

a violin dreams and nightmares

A Violin the color of black night with golden roses painted on. Oh, a violin how can such a simple tool make so many tears and days of melancholy. But Philza was back in the room where his brother would play for him and Lily the room was big since his mother loved to flaunt her wealth but the room was a ghost of what it once was, but the siren song continued to call so he ran after the sound and finally pushing back a curtain to reveal a young ghost maybe in his 20s and was holding a violin black a night with the pegs being skulls.

              The clothing was trousers, white formal with a black-grey vest with rose details. His hair was a milky brown hair with curls that bounce as he played the violin, he wore glasses the frames being thin, eyes now open staring blankly at the room, then at Philza. Tears pricked his eyes he had the strong urge to run to the man and hugged him for all of time, but his feet were frozen in place and the melody change to a powerful sad and tears flowed down the man face.

With that illusions of creatures from piglings to endermen and this cause so much pain as Philza remembers the stories that his brother would talk about women with pig or boar features in the nether that could tear through the strongest of man and men with wings that would hunt with hunters in the new world when it wasn’t turned into a country or own by the brits. He heard the music pick up in pace and emotions and then he stops the music echoing in the empty room and he turned to where Philza walked to sit to watched and listen better “what do you want?” he spoke in a soft firm tone “hello I Philza.” Phil shot back kindly as he got up to shake hand with the man

“I am William Riceshrie.” Both starred at each other, and William put down his violin and picks up Philza and spinning and crying with tears of joy. Phil’s wings puff out as he is also crying tears of relief “you have your wing little brother.” Was all he said with Philza not speaking but weeping in his late brother arms which were tinted black like frost bite had touch him.

The violin safe on the table as both brothers embrace each other once again “William I did I got my wings and kept your stories alive.” Philza said with tears rounding down his face like rivers and his wings were wrapped around the older brother “I can see you have so many feathers.”

 He just cried more as they felt the room break around them leaving a old burn down house ruins of what once stood the snow falling on the ground didn’t feel cold but was here “how did you get the wings?” William asked voice sounded like a worried father “I got them by messing with fate tapestries and wax and feathers.” William just held his brother’s face as he just looked at Philza’s wings and nodded not speaking “hey you got them I hope learn not mess with fate.” He nodded and both went back to just holding on to each other out of fear of losing one another “now what happened with you because I haven’t since you since you recover from the plague you had?” Philza began to ramble off about his life after he almost died to tuberculosis. He had 3 sons, married to lady death or Kristen, he named his first-born Wilbur soot after his late brother and how he had the curse of empathy and immortally. William looked so proud and happy “my little brother has a family.”

Philza smiled holding the earing of a crow skull “yeah I am the right-hand man of lady death the sister to black feather and Soleks.”  As he notices the signs that it was almost time to wake up “see you later brother….”

He woke up jolting up with a cold sweat as he lay in bed, he looked at his windows and sighed “why must memories haunt me so much?” he got up and went to the box holding the violin and grab a letter and removing the wax seal and putting into a jar that hold wax seal for reuse. Finally reading what was in the letter after so many years of fear and grief  

                                         Dear brother,

If you are reading this letter, I am surely dead. I have written some things down for you and lily. One I love you dearly and thanks for listening to our history. Philip, I wish you the best of luck and if you read this go to the cave with red vines and lava if you want to know where my stuff is that I want to save from mother’s hands.

                        I will miss you two greatly but with a heavy heart I will be in limbo and maybe more when suntail cut the silk for me. But Phillip you will get some of my things like my papers, earrings and rings and hat but also my violin since I trust you with it and my favorite pocket watch.

I am deep sorry I couldn’t see you take your first steps to the door after you got better if you got better and if you are dead Phil, I will wait at the gates till I can see you.

                                                  Sincerely, William  

The cold wet tears come back his skin around his eyes becoming wet and tight from the tears that fall on the paper knowing his brother is forever waiting for him maybe even with Lilly. He couldn’t let out all the screams of pain and sorrow out of fear of technoblade knowing.    

[ebonyheartnet]

Jazz looked at her little brother, looked at his coworkers, then bust out laughing.

“I’m gonna tell them,” she managed to gasp.

“Don’t you dare ruin this for me!” Danny yelled. “It’s been three months of bullshit; I deserve to emotionally wax this asshole’s back on my own!”

Jazz fell to her knees laughing and managed to smudge the summoning circle underneath. With a final wheeze, she disappeared back into the green rift that spat her out.

“Explain,” said (the actual) Batman.

“Ask Constantine,” Danny said casually, looking at his gloves like he was inspecting his nails. “It’s his summoning, and he’s already proven that he’s a better source on my people than, ya know, me.”

Superman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while J’onn just smiled.

“Would the saying, “you made your bed, now sleep in it,” apply here, Phantom?” The Martian asked.

“Nice one, though I’m gonna go with, “You kept digging up graves, so the bodies shouldn’t be surprising.”” Phantom kicked back midair and smiled at the fuming Brit.

“Kid, literally any other time I would pay you to knock him down a peg, but Raven is barely holding back Trigon,” John Stewart reminded him. “We need backup now, so we need to know what’s going on.”

Danny pouted, sighed, then stood up.

“Nightwing, do you have that ghost proof camera I gave you?” Danny pointed at Constantine. “I need my payback on film.”

“Ready to record,” Dick promised.

“So thanks to my job, I was able to get my GED and apply for online classes in a few weeks,” Danny said casually. “My sister helped with that, getting me emancipated, and all of the other fun things that have to happen when you have a shitty home life. Since she’s always been taking care of me, and I’m technically still a kid by human standards, she has to sign my summoning permission slips.”

“You have an Amazon for a sister?“ Redhood blurted out, eyes still fixed on the summoning circle.

“What? No, she’s—“ Danny squinted, “Actually, I know where you live, so remind me to give you her number.”

“Focus,” snapped Bruce.

“Ancients, fine!” Danny said as he threw his hands up.

Icy gauntlets and pauldrons took shape as an aurora formed over Danny’s head. Mist trailed down his back in a cape, and he made sure to flip off Constantine as a white lantern ring took its place on his left middle finger.

“First off, don’t mansplain just because you’re bitter, and secondly, don’t piss off the person who owns 80% of your soul,” Danny said smugly. “Don’t get pissy about it, I’m giving it back once I get the rest and draw up a contract stating you can’t just sell it again five minutes later.”

“So you’re the ghost king. Can you help Raven contain Trigon?” Batman asked, not even acknowledging Constantine having an existential crisis.

“Ghost King, not-so-Ancient of space, hell’s pest control service, and undead IRS at your service,” Danny said with a grin. “If someone actually tells me where Raven is, I’ll probably have this wrapped up in under an hour.”

“Oh man, let me show you Titan’s tower,” said Dick. “If you want, you could even stay there while you’re in school.”

“I have to babysit the dimensional rift my parents made between both my worlds, but I’ll definitely visit,” Danny promised as the two ran off, Redhood close behind.

Mansplain Yourself (DC x DP)

Danny decides that attending college and defending the entirety of Earth from ghosts is too hard to maintain alongside a job. He should just get paid to do his hero work!

He shows up on the watchtower with a PowerPoint and printed portfolio proving he's been doing hero work for years. He fought a king from another dimension. He wants some of their money.

"We don't really have a budget? We can't really pay you." Says Superman.

"I am standing in space right now. That guy has a bat-themed submarine, private jet and fleet of automobiles. If you guys aren't rolling in that sweet, sweet USA defence budget cash, how are you affording all of this?"

"Uh, okay, we'll pay you." Says Batman (It's Nightwing subbing in for Bruce tonight and he panics!)

Constantine is cranky. This is a ghost. Ghosts are dead. Why the fuck would he need human money?

Danny's first paycheck clears. He moves out of his parents house and it's all good!

And this is when the trouble begins. Real Batman has noticed the money moving, and questions about the paperwork for the Justice League's 'new employee'.

Constantine is still crank though, and when Danny comes in for a skills assessment he steamrolls the poor guy. Talking over him, correcting him etc.

Danny is tired, he has a paper due before midnight and he doesn't even know what this guy's problem is. So, Danny lets him mansplain his own powers to the Justice League.

The Justice League paperwork for Phantom the Infinite Realms Ghost reads like this:

Senses others of his kind (see appendix 5a)

Intangibility

Self-sustained flight

Knowledge about Infinite Realms (see general database - dimensions, subsection 52), and it's inhabitants.

Danny figures he'll get payback for all his colleges listening to this cigarette-smoking hack over him the first time any of them see him actually fight. But the first fight he's in with them is an easy one, he only really needs to fly and lift some heavy-ish stuff. Then the next one is a false alarm. Then they keep giving the hard jobs to Superman.

Then, about 6 months in - Danny's file now has Super Strength (see appendix 12f) - added. Kal-el goes down. Hard. A single, brutal hit.

…And Wonder Woman takes his place in the plan with ease.

How long is it going to take before Danny gets to (legitimately) show off for once?! He can't wait.

[camels-pen]

Holy Feathers, Phantom!

Summary: Danny gets wings and the town becomes a lot more culty than usual. Somehow, this becomes the GIW's problem.

based on @seaglass-skies' prompt "Danny's gotten into a mess he knows his friends and family can't get him out of. He doesn't think he'll be rescued at all, but he ESPECIALLY doesn't expect it to be the Guys in White who rescue him." and @kiinotasha's prompt "Wing AU: It started with an itch that never seemed to go away. ( He can have them in both forms or just one )"

edit: forgot to add another note that this was also inspired by @impyssadobsessions' fanatastic wing au danny art

Ao3 Link

~

A large BOOM shook the building, causing dust to sprinkle down from the ceiling tiles. 

The cultists exchanged glances before turning back to Danny.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re looking at me for.” He flexed as much as he could in the restraints. “Clearly, I can’t move a muscle.”

A few of them grumbled to one another before one of them—the one Danny pegged as the Idiot In Charge—instructed the others to barricade the door. A truly genius choice when they weren’t sure if the building was crumbling around them. 

An explosion blew out the door and a good chunk of the surrounding wall, sending the cultists’ meagre attempt at a barricade flying everywhere. A large cloud of dust billowed into the room, covering practically everything. 

Curse these commercial anti-ghost restraints. Why did his parents have to sell this stuff? Why couldn’t they have just sold ghost shields instead? At least he could use his enhanced vision in a ghost shield. 

With his luck, his parents just busted in, armed and ready to replace this set of restraints for the ones at home to dissect him. Vivisect him? Eh, he could debate semantics later.

“What the—? Why are you—?!” The Idiot In Charge was cut off with a pained gasp followed by a loud thud and a familiar sort of wheezing sound. Danny winced in sympathy. That guy definitely just got a nut shot from a steel toed boot. He’d seen Sam do it enough times to know the initial reaction by ear. 

While it was great that his friends came for him, he didn’t exactly know how they managed to search for him with all the ecto-signature dampeners the cultists set up. Also, despite the intense strain on his shoulders, he can’t worry them any more than he already had.

He breathed through the pain and spoke in as steady a voice as he could manage. “Guys, you really didn’t have to come, I had it cov—” The dust cleared and Danny paused. “You’re not Sam and Tucker.”

“No, but we are trained federal agents,” said Agent K as he aimed his blaster at the surrounding cultists. Agent J took out a fancy looking letter opener and hovered near Danny’s wrist.

“Federal agents that kick people in the balls apparently,” he muttered to himself, trying to keep his breathing steady and watching the letter opener with unblinking eyes. Agent J said nothing, cutting through the first restraint and continuing to the next. They both remained silent until Danny was completely free and sitting up on the table. 

Danny rubbed his wrist and chanced a glance at each of them. “What happened to ‘painful painful experiments’?”

“Don’t get it twisted,” K snapped. “We can’t perform experiments if you ascend to godly status.”

Danny grimaced.

---

“Look! Up there!”

“What is that?!”

Loud squealing. “It’s the ghost boy!”

“But he’s got wings? Why in the world would he have—?”

“Clearly he’s been rewarded for his heroism!” Someone yelled. “The Lord must’ve blessed him!”

“He’s an angel!” 

“No, a saint!” 

“Maybe a prophet?”

“Hey!” Danny yelled. “I’m kinda in the middle of something here!” He quickly threw up a shield to cover the crowded street, protecting everyone when Skulker shot a missile at him. He grit his teeth as the shield began to crack. “It’d be really helpful if you all got out of the way!”

Finally, he heard screams below him. He wished they would’ve started running earlier, but better late than never. When the blast subsided, he shot a blast at Skulker, launching him away and allowing Danny a moment to turn back and point out the nearest fortified building.

But instead of a panicked crowd running around aimlessly to duck behind whatever they could, they all swelled around one guy holding one of Danny’s feathers clutched tightly in his fists.

“It’s mine! I caught the feather, so I get its magical properties! It’s common sense- OW that’s my ear!” the man yelled.

Danny was filled with the urge to scream. 

---

“So… you guys believe all that angel stuff too?” Danny asked, shoulders slumping as they headed down the hallway.

“Keep floating ecto-scum.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “C’mon K, don’t tell me you haven’t heard the stupid rumours. Everybody’s got some theory about me. I mean, why else would I be kidnapped by a literal cult.”

“Because you’re a ghost and they’re delusional.”

“Well yeah, but other than that.” Danny hummed, putting a hand to his chin. “Maybe I am some kind of angel. Like that Dean guy from Supernatural. Or was that the name of their car?”

K grit his teeth and breathed deeply through his nose. He stayed silent.

“Not gonna answer me because you know I’m right, huh?” Danny said, turning with an understanding expression and twitching lips. He patted K on the shoulder. “There’s no shame in that.”

“You’re not—!” 

“K.” J turned his head just slightly to K. “The more you engage, the more it’ll blabber.”

K ground his teeth. “Affirmative. Engaging stealth protocols.”

“Oh, you guys are gonna stay stealthy for a while? Smart. We’ve gotta be on the lookout for any other cultists roaming around.” Danny sat with his legs crossed while he floated backwards. “And while you do that, I can rant to you about all the stuff I’ve had to put up with since I got these.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and the pair of white fluffy wings lifted just slightly before folding back. “It all started last week, when I went to visit this half-dove half-vampire ghost—”

The group continued down the hall at a slower pace at first, one that started getting faster as time went on almost in sync with the growing irritation on both agents' faces. They stopped at a pair of elevator doors at one point, the two agents slumping slightly in what Danny could only describe as relief. The moment he noticed the out of order sign stuck on the door, he gleefully informed the agents before jumping right back into his ranting.

Honestly, it felt kinda good to let out all his frustrations with the events of the past week. With his friends, he might’ve felt a little bad for complaining about something that’s not super terrible and would be awesome on literally anybody else. But with these guys? Danny would take absolute pleasure in annoying the hell out of them with all of the smallest, most insignificant details and every single entitled thought he could come up with. It’s not everyday he has a captive audience consisting of two people who’ve tried to strap him to a table and cut him open. 

(He tried not to think of another two people who’ve tried to do the same.)

“—and don’t even get me started on all the Saint shit. I haven’t even been dead that long!”

“Hey,” K whispered to J. “If you manage to get him to shut up, I’ll cover your next shift.”

“Done.” J cleared his throat. Phantom turned back to him. J pulled out a small metal container and handed Phantom a jawbreaker. Phantom lit up and immediately popped it in his mouth. He stayed silent as he ate.

K furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you just keep those on you all the time?”

J nodded. “In theory, it should entice teens and kids into conversation where I can mention the intern program.”

“Oh yes, you’re one of the recruiters aren’t you?” J gave an affirmative hum. 

K paused. “What did you mean by ‘in theory’?”

J frowned. “In practice, it hasn’t had a single success. Initially, I had shown a bit more initiative, asking any young people who passed by me if they’d like some candy. When that didn’t work, I tried operating on the go and within one of the organization’s vans so I could—”

“Wait. Hold on. You tried asking kids if they wanted candy? You do realize what that seems like, right?” K said. “And which van did you use? Specifically, what colour?”

“I don’t really see how either of my methods have been a problem, but I was using one of the white vans, of course.”

K tried to imagine a picture of it in his head. He sighed. “I think you gave people the wrong impression about us.”

“What impression could I have possibly given them other than a hard working agent looking to recruit brilliant youth to keep the people safe from ecto-scum?” 

K grimaced and averted his gaze, causing him to look directly at Phantom. The ghost was smiling widely, mouth puffed out with the large candy in its mouth. Well, at least that was still working to keep it silent. 

“I’ll explain it later, when we’re out of here,” K said, focusing ahead once more. 

All too soon, the jawbreaker was gone and Phantom started flapping its ecto-gums again. K rubbed his temples. “I’m gonna need some Tylenol when we get back to base.”

J sighed. “I admit, maybe staying silent won’t help our blabber mouth problem.”

“Wanna seal its mouth shut with the anti-ecto tape?”

“We can’t. ‘No harm to the entity’ remember?” At this Phantom perked up.

“Oh? Is that why you guys haven’t been shooting at me the entire time?” It pretended to pout. “And here I thought we were finally getting along like friends.”

J swiftly pulled out another jawbreaker. “Oh dope, thanks.” It popped the candy in its mouth and finally, they had blessed silence again. K could only hope J had enough to last until they got outside.

---

Agent Alpha tapped a finger to the papers spread on her desk. “Agents, do you know what this is?”

J raised an eyebrow. “Our quarterly performance reports?”

“A… raise?” K asked, struggling to keep the hope from his voice.

Alpha ignored them and held up one paper. “A petition with 90,000 signatures.” She set it down and picked up another. “A list of complaints from fellow reputable ghost hunters.” She picked up another. “A formal cease and desist letter from the chief of police.” 

“This, agents, is the beginning of our demise as a peacekeeping organization.” She glared at them. “All because you two buffoons couldn’t catch the ghost boy sooner.”

“With all due respect, it’s not as easy as it seems, Agent Alpha,” J said. 

“With all due respect, I. Don’t. Care.” She stood from her chair and turned to the window. “Do you know what our role is as a secret government agency?”

“To… stay secret?”

“Wasn’t sure you knew the answer to that one, but yes.” She turned her head towards them. “You’ve already failed spectacularly on the secrecy front, but we’ve always managed to cover it up somehow. This time though…” She sighed, her head tilting down as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. K shifted his feet and J pulled at his collar.

Abruptly, she turned around. “You’ve managed to draw too much attention for us to cover with our own resources and we still don’t have full government backing yet, so, for the time being, the GIW is going to act on its best behaviour.” She placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward. “This means that, at least while the town is convinced that the ghost boy is some sort of heavenly saviour, we will act as if this were true and treat it- him with the same courtesy as a member of congress. Theoretically, this should give us enough good publicity to be seen as having good intentions with a few bad eggs sullying our name.” Both J and K winced, but quickly started up with protests.

“But ma’am, we can’t in good conscience treat that thing like-”

“That thing is a specimen that needs to be studied to better hum-”

She glared at them and they instantly cut themselves off. “Keep in mind, this is all the result of your failures. You have no right to complain.” She sat down heavily in her chair, rubbing her temples. “Now go rescue the ghost boy before it- he gets killed.”

--- 

The agents ran out of jawbreakers like, four floors ago, but with how exhausted he felt, he thought he might as well give them a brief reprieve before getting back to it. The singular It’s Not Unusual in the sea of What’s New Pussycats, if you will. And just when they think that they’re free of his charming wit, he’ll knock them out with the perfect one liner.

Yeah, Danny’s gonna have fun with this.

In the meantime though, it’d probably be a good idea to get a better sense of his surroundings.

…or he could be immediately distracted by his wings for the fifteenth time in a row.

The large fluffy white wings stretched outwards as he flexed his back muscles. He watched, almost entranced as each feather moved through the air. He tugged lightly on the end of his right wing, rubbing a few feathers between his gloves. Ancients what he wouldn’t do to just take off his glove right now and run his fingers through it for hours. Or, better yet, get Sam or Tucker to do that.

Without noticing, he nearly floated headfirst into a wall. He jerked back at the sudden obstacle, his wing slipping from his grasp and the joint at the top bumping into his cheek. 

And Danny practically purred.

He knew the feathers were soft, had felt them himself, but to have them brushing against his cheek like that? It was so soft and soothing. Like a hug from his parents when he was a little kid. Like a hug from Jazz on a bad day.

“Don’t stop moving. We’re nearly outside.”

The sound of J’s voice was like ice water down his back. He tensed up, folding his wings tightly behind him and turned the corner, continuing to float down the hall. “Yeah yeah,” he mumbled. 

There was a set of heavy blue emergency doors embedded in the wall, a broken lock and chains littering the ground. It was a push door, so it was strange the chains were broken on the inside, but the agents might’ve scouted out this exit before they came for him. Ancients know they love to be prepared before failing miserably. 

The sound of the agents’ footsteps paused behind him. Danny rolled his eyes and turned back to glance at them. “What’s up? Did you break some stupid rule breaking a lock the wrong way or-?” He tensed as he noticed J and K holding up their blasters and keeping their backs to each other as they slowly scanned the hall. Danny floated closer towards them and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“We didn’t open those doors,” K hissed. “Someone or something got here before us.”

Danny furrowed his brows. “How do you know it wasn’t one of the cultists panicking and thinking the building was about to go down?” He was pretty sure they all carried some kind of blunt instrument, the throbbing at the back of his head was proof of that. 

Reaching back to rub at the offending spot, he knocked into his wings, raised and puffed up. He sighed and began the process of purposefully loosening his muscles while subtly petting down the feathers. He didn’t want to know what would happen if J and K noticed a new trait connected to his wings being more bird-like than angel-like. 

Who was he kidding? They’d probably just start shooting at him again. Though they might have a few more painful experiments to conduct than before. Danny grimaced at the thought of someone picking apart his wings, imaging something far worse than the initial splitting pain in his back when they first emerged.

“We don’t, but section 4, subsection 25 states-”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re probably just gonna make up something about never underestimating the enemy or something.” He flew ahead of them, past the fire alarm, extinguisher, and a vent near the ceiling. “Speaking of enemies, you never did explain why you were helping me escape. Wanna fill me in or-?”

In an instant, Danny was tackled to the ground and a shrieking voice was asking him to kiss someone’s forehead and give them his blessing. They were spouting how they crawled through the vents and prepared the exit for him when J and K both yelled and Danny was abruptly free to move again.

“That’s our good publicity ticket, you scoundrel!”

“Stay clear of the ghost scum or you’re under arrest!”

Danny sat up and blinked, watching as J spouted off some kind of abbreviated version of the Miranda rights and K none too gently put the vent guy in handcuffs before realization hit. 

“You guys have to protect me because you’ve been fucking up so bad lately.” J and K stilled, becoming silent. A wide grin spread across Danny’s face. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

K cleared his throat, but didn’t meet Danny’s eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just in the middle of a carefully crafted plan to capture and experiment on you. Obviously, we need you intact for that.”

“Oh no, you called me your ‘good publicity ticket’. I have to be more than just ‘intact’ for that.” Danny laughed. “I can’t believe you guys fucked up so bad you have to be my bodyguards now!”

“We are not your-!”

“Oops,”-Danny waved his phone, his Twitter pulled up with a new post that just showed a screenshot of his location on Google Maps-“looks like we’re about to have company.” 

“How did you do that so fast?!” K said, grabbing the front of his jumpsuit.

“Ah ah ah.” Danny smirked, his fangs peeking out from his lips. “Can’t damage the merchandise, remember?”

K growled at him, but J pulled him away. “I… apologize for my partner’s behaviour, but we should leave before the crowds get here,” J said through gritted teeth.

Danny sighed, resting the back of his hand on his forehead and dropping his flight to stand on the floor. “You know, I’m not feeling too well. Might not even be able to use my powers or my wings to get away.” He fought to keep down a laugh as he saw K getting more and more red in the face. “If only there were someone to carry me back to the Ghost Zone. Sigh.”

Danny could hear the sound of stampeding footsteps in the distance as well as cars that were definitely going over the speed limit. This was going to suck spectacularly.

But more importantly, he thought as he phased through J and K’s arms whenever they tried to drag him away and watched them get increasingly more desperate while the crowd approached, I can finally get revenge on these two chucklefucks without worrying about retaliation.

Just the thought of how he’d get to torment them for the next couple months until the dovepire ghost bite wore off had his core vibrating with glee.

[maytey]

pegging them

| ft. kazutora, ran, sanzu

| cw: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, pegging, spanking (ran), slight asphyxiation (sanzu)

| a/n: wrote this all in one night because i was having many thoughts

{ kazutora }

he looks so cute splayed out on the bed, hands white-knuckled as he fists the sheets. tears bead on the lashes of his closed eyes. he ruts his hips down toward you, begging for more. just more. you aren't touching him. the only contact is your strap thrusting a painfully slow pace in his ass. you don't want to give him more yet, but he begs so nicely. so you run feather-light fingers down the inside of his thigh, stopping only a breath away from his balls. his cock twitches at the teasing touch. he begs you again, this time adding a "please" and that name you cave to at the end. and all restraint leaves you. you grab onto his hips, picking up to a harsh pace that has kazutora dissolving into a moaning mess. one of your hands drifts to his aching cock and wraps around him. you don't have to tell him to cum as you stroke him, because with a slurred moan of your name he’s cumming. the look he gives you as he pants is one you can never get tired of. it makes you want to fuck him again.

{ ran }

you have him on all fours on the bed. he's doing everything to make this a challenging experience. and he was the one who suggested you peg him. you run a hand gently over his ass, grinning at him as he looks back at you with those teasing, playful eyes. without warning, your hand lands heavily on his ass. again and again. all while your thrusts get harder and deeper. ran drops onto his forearms, burying his face in the mattress, struggling to hold in his moans. one of his hands goes to touch his cock, the last bit of friction he needs to cum, but you're quick to grab his wrist and lay his arm across his back. you scold him for trying to do something without your permission. he dissolves into a mess of apologies, begging you to touch him because he needs to cum. he needs it. but he can't have it so easily. you ghost your fingers just near the base of his cock, inching close and then pulling away. he whines into the sheets when the tips of your fingers graze the base of his cock before pulling away again. he moves his hips back to meet with yours in time with your thrusts. the way he's trying so desperately to get off on your strap is adorable. that's when you finally take pity on him, wrapping your hand around his cock and letting him cum. he lets out a string of "thank you"s as his body goes blissfully limp. it's so satisfying to watch him break under you.

{ sanzu }

he's always been a wildcard, you never know what's going to come out of his mouth. the only reason you showed up to his office was to have lunch with him. that turned into you bending him over his desk to fuck with the strap he kept in his desk drawer for a moment like this. it had been on his mind for a while, and the opportunity finally arose. you couldn't say that you were opposed, either, because the idea really had you clenching your thighs in your seat. sanzu isn't even trying to keep quiet, it's like he wants to get caught by the people outside his office. your hands are gripping his hips, guiding him in tandem with your thrusts. he moans loudly when you finally reach that spot inside him. you reach a hand for his loosened tie, pulling on it to lean his head back, telling him to keep quiet if he wants to cum. he grins and tells you to pull harder. so you do. and it's not long until he's cumming, low groans escaping from him as he fucks himself on your strap. everyone beyond the door, knew exactly what was happening, but will never say anything because they're afraid of him.

[lilacte]

#PegHawks2020

Pairings: Hawks x Reader

Summary: You peg Hawks. That's it. That's the plot.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: smut (18+), dom!reader, sub!hawks, pegging, sex toys, anal fingering, dirty talk, light bondage(?), edging, overstimulation, plot i guess (if you squint)

A/N: My first submission for @bnhabookclub's Bingo Event! Thank you to @honeytama and @dragonhrte for beta-reading my fic! Also huge thanks to my wife @royal-after-dark for helping me so much with my fic.

Taglist: @royal-after-dark @mrs-takami-keigo @keigod @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @honeytama​

The first time Hawks met you, his heart hammered so loudly that it felt like it was going to burst in his chest. Your eyes gazed at him with such cold sharpness that he can't help but swallow the lump forming in his throat. You were (Y/N)(L/N), a Pro-Hero just like him. You regarded him with cold disposition and barely spared him a glance, not even a word spoken to him. 

Maybe that's what sparked his interest in you. 

The next time he saw you was at a high-end bar. You were in the V.I.P section, surrounded by what he assumed were your friends, sitting on the plush sofa while sipping on your drink as your eyes dragged around the dancefloor in boredom. And then your eyes met his, and Hawks felt his blood rushing to his groin when you eyed him up and down erotically. A few hours later, Hawks was pinned harshly against the wall as both of you reached your hotel room. Your lips against his neck, causing frenzy to seize his veins, your bright red lipstick staining his skin. The next day Hawks woke up in your hotel room without you beside him anymore.

You left your phone number on the nightstand, though.

Three months later, you started dating. It's been six months into the relationship when you brought up the idea of pegging. Hawks humored the idea, confident that he could do it.

He really, really wants to impress you.

That was why he was in his apartment right now, on all fours and naked, facing the mirror as you prod two lubed fingers in his hole. At first, it stung a bit, still unsure about the odd sensation he was feeling. Your fingers slide in, your movements slow at first to help him relax. 

"Do you feel alright, Hawks?" You ask, tone soft yet reserved.

"I can barely feel anything, babe. This is nothing I can't handle. Ah-"

Hawks jolts when he feels you push your fingers deep inside of him, hitting the right spot. A traitorous moan escapes his lips as your fingers teased his prostate.

"Oh? Are you sure? It sounded like you enjoyed that one, Hawks." Glancing at the mirror in front of him, Hawks meets your heated gaze, cheeks coloring with embarrassment as your lips twist in a smug grin.

"I-Is that the best you can do, babe?" Hawks exhales, voice starting to tremble as your fingers move faster inside of him. 

"You're taking my fingers so well, baby bird. Such a dirty little slut for me, hmm?" you taunt as you add in a third lubed finger in his hole, and Hawks involuntarily clenches around your fingers as you continue to pump inside of him, teasing his insides.

"So tight just for me. I can't wait to fuck you, Hawks." You murmur. Your free hand travels to the underside of his dick, knuckles ghosting his skin, and he melts at the feeling. His cock becomes uncomfortably hard between his thighs, and he whines, aching for you to give it attention.

"Ngh. Fuck-" Hawks shudders, arms gripping the carpet as your fingers spread inside of him, scissoring up and down, stretching him so much and sending jolts of tension throughout his body. 

"Do you think you're ready for my cock, pretty bird?" 

Hawks nods eagerly, and you gently withdraw your fingers from his hole, satisfied, and Hawks whines at the loss of your fingers. 

Hawks sits down properly on his knees, and you undress in front of him, unbuttoning your white blouse. Hawks admires your naked body, and you give him a small smirk as you go behind him.

"I'll tie you up now. Tell me if it hurts." You whisper in his ear, so softly that it sends tremors of pleasure tickling down his spine.

"That's easy stuff. I can handle it." 

Grabbing both his wrists, you place them behind him, tying them firmly with your white blouse. You stand up, putting the harness around your hips, and Hawks stares at your bright red, huge cock that hangs in front of it. 

Smiling sweetly at him, you say, "Come on, now. This cock isn't going to suck itself." 

He snickers, golden eyes staring back at you arrogantly.  

"Don't make me laugh, chickadee. This will be a piece of cake." 

Hawks tongue glides over your cock, from base to tip. He stares up into your eyes as he finally wraps his lips around your dick, cheeks hollowing as he sinks to take in your length, saliva pooling against his tongue and coating it. His head bobs up and down your cock, taking his time with it.

"Look at you, such a whore for mommy's cock, getting it nice and ready for that tight little hole of yours." You grab onto his blond strands harshly, and with a small smirk, you force him down deeper until he's gagging on your cock. 

"Keep your eyes on me, my pretty bird." His golden eyes stare up to you, and you can't help but purr in delight as unshed tears start to form in his eyes. His moans are muffled as you continue to guide him by the hair, soft choking sounds like music to your ears. 

"You look so good on your knees like that." You murmur, bucking your hips faster. Hawks can barely breathe, throat constricted around your dick, cheeks reddening as he chokes on your strap-on. With his hands tied behind him, he can't do anything but let you have your way with him. Strings of saliva spill from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down to his chest. 

After a few more minutes, you stop your thrusts, pulling him away from your cock, and Hawks can finally breathe, jaw burning as he sucks in as much air as possible. Your fingers cup his cheeks, tracing his wet lips with your thumb, admiring his reddened state.

"What an undignified look you have." You mock.

"Stand up and lay on the bed on your stomach." Hawks does what you tell him to eagerly, his face buried into the pillow. You kneel behind him, hands finding their way to his hips, and position him with his ass up in the air, adding a pillow to support his body. You position the tip of your large red dildo onto his already drenched hole and add more lube before you slowly slide your silicone cock into him.

"F-Fuck, that feels good." Hawks hisses, tugging at his restraints as you stretch his walls. 

You set a slow, steady pace as you fill him up.

"Look at you, pretty bird. Taking it so well already." You hum appreciatively, fingers digging deep into his skin as your hips rock against him, and his vermillion wings flutter excitedly at the comment.

Hawks bites into the pillow as your dick slides in and out of him, stirring his gummy walls and friction building up inside of him. You hover above Hawks, hand settling on either side of his head. His back arches as your cock prods at his prostate.

"You like me fucking you like this, Hawks? Tell mommy how much you like it." You inch close to him, your hot breath fanning his ear.

"Ngh! V-Very much. Give me more, mommy~" Hawks desperately pushes back against your cock, face flushed so red in arousal. You adjust your position, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, driving Hawks insanely.

"Fuck! P-Please, m-mommy. I'm going to come!" Anticipation builds in his lower belly, euphoria surging red hot in his veins—a few more thrusts into him, and his orgasm tears through him. Hawks pants harshly, face twisting with absolute bliss. 

You smack his ass harshly and Hawks yelps in response, lifting his head up to eye you through the mirror.

"W-what?" Hawks asks, eyes still hazy as his orgasm settles in his body. You let out a displeased sigh, running a hand through your hair as you eye Hawks' reflection.

"I never said you could come, Hawks," Your lips curl up in a wicked grin, eyes glinting maliciously before your hands grab onto his wings.

"Now, you need to be punished." Using his wings as support, you rock your hips into him, this time, at a much rougher pace.

You don't let Hawks cum.

Every time Hawks was close, you always pulled out, not giving him the sweet release he desperately wanted. By now, he was just a jumbled mess. The words spilling out of his mouth are a disarray of incoherencies. His choked sobs were like aphrodisiac to your ears and that you can't help but want to torture him more.

"Hnn… ah! Too… hng! Ah!! Deep, hnn. Ah!" Hawks gasps at the overwhelming sensation, ragged breaths leaving his lips as you slam into him mercilessly. His body feels achingly sore, yet the pleasure is so overwhelmingly powerful that he can't help but beg for more.

"You were all talk, baby. Now you can't even say a word. Who knew you liked to be fucked like this? What would others think about you when they found out, hmm?" You snicker condescendingly.

It was all too much. It was so good it hurt.

"Too much! I want to cum, mommy! Please let me cum! I'll be your good little fuck hole from now on!" Hawks cries out, tears streaming down his cheeks and saliva dribbling down his chin. His hands pull at the makeshift restraints, itching to grab onto something as his body jerks from your relentless thrusts.

"Beg for it like the whore you are then." You purr, burying yourself into him as deep as you can, your pace unrelenting. Hawks jaw slacks open, breathless moans escaping his mouth, tongue lolling out of his face, mind going haywire as you hit the right spots inside him. His neglected cock aches between his legs, loads of his pre-cum leaking out. With all of his might, Hawks breaks free from the makeshift handcuffs, the fabric ripping away, his hands immediately flying in front of him to grasp the sheets.

Your arms leave their hold on his wings, one hand snaking around his waist and the other wrapping around the base of his cock. His cock twitches in your grasp, and he gasps, eyes rolling the back of his head as you pump him up and down, circling his tip, and fucking him from behind.

Everything was so overwhelmingly good and Hawks can barely breathe.

"Let me hear your scream, my pretty bird." 

"Ah, ngh! So… good! I'm a whore for your cock! Mommy's cock is so good! Mommy!" Hawks cries out breathlessly, his mind is blank from the numbing pleasure, all rational thoughts leaving his head.

You let out a chuckle, deciding that you've tortured Hawks long enough. Your hips rut into him at a faster pace, your hand wrapped around his shaft, doing the same.

"Come for me then, pretty bird." 

A pleased guttural moan escapes Hawks' lips as he finally comes, body trembling as rivulets of his seed drips down his cock and in your hands and on the bedsheets. Hawks lifts his head, meeting your heated stare through the mirror, and he gives you a dazed grin. Face so flushed with the trails of tears running down his face and viscous strings of saliva running down his chin.

His body trembles from his orgasm, wings twitching with delight, and before long, his body goes limp in your arms. 

"Hawks?" you question, shaking him slightly in your arms. When he doesn't move, you release your hold on Hawks, setting him down onto the mattress face first. You grip onto his hips softly as you pull your cock out from his used hole. You remove the harness, placing it down on the floor. You leave the room and come back moments later with a damp cloth and new clothes. You let out a sigh as you survey Hawks' worn-out features. 

"I think I was too rough on you. Sorry." You whisper as you clean him up.

Before you leave Hawks' apartment, you give him a chaste kiss on the cheeks and cover his body with a blanket.

.

The next day Hawks arrived at a Hero meeting, limping so badly and so very achingly sore. When he entered the room, everyone saw how the winged-hero staggered, intrigued at what happened to him.

"What… happened to you, Hawks?" Endeavor asks, tone cold with a hint of curiosity.

"Had a... nasty fight… with a villain." Hawks lamely replies to which Endeavour simply nods, believing it before changing the subject to the meeting. Hawks looks around the room and spots you talking to Miruko.

Feeling his eyes linger on you, you turn to look at him, a sly smirk graces your lips as you eyed him up and down before flashing him a wink.

Hawks legs gave in at that moment.

[4dtk]

more than a bet (cont. from a sweet bet)

anon: “ohmygod i loved that sub!jae work sm😭😭 would you be able to do more?? maybe with a soft femdom and whiny jae? its truly heartbreaking seeing the lack of sub!jae on here 😔” i’m glad you liked it!!!!! hope u like this one too <3 i might have made reader a bit of a mean dom i’m sorry ;;

ps was gonna make jae orgasm untouched but…. aha / you don't have to read the previous part to understand but anon is talking about this fic!

warnings/tags: pegging, bit of dacryphilia, handjob, sub!jaehyun, soft femdom!reader, brief face-sitting, brief cunnilingus

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!

“back for more already?” you laughed, eyeing the timid boy standing in front of you with fists clenched onto the straps of his book bag. his knuckles turn white from how tight he’s holding it and you don’t miss the nervous shifting he does with his feet.

all jaehyun lets out is a dreamy sigh, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he ignores the calls of his friends a metre from him.

he’s tall, although all the male wants to do right now is turn to mush with the uncomfortable rub of his thighs against each other and the gaze you’re looking down at him with.

it’s no different when you have him in your bed later and in the palm of your hand, literally, as the other clutches onto the sheets with the same intensity earlier, the skin of his neck exposed from how far he’s dropped his head back in pleasure.

jaehyun’s dick leaks pre-cum like no other while his tip throbs red, begging to be touched impatiently by your rather patient hand. it stays at the base of his cock, squeezing and unsqueezing as the other’s whines reach your ears.

“(y-y/n)… hurts s’bad!” jaehyun groans, eyes which were scrunched tight opening as they plead with you. it was shameless in the way his legs were spread to accommodate you in between, with the occasional buck of his hips that made the rustling of sheets ever resonant in the room. he was at your mercy, from day one in the quiet classroom, and he was at your mercy, now, with mouth parted as delicious moans spilled from his lips.

“what does, baby?” you ask, knowing full well what he was hinting at before leaning down to place a harmless kiss on his tip. you relish in the way you make him feel, the gesture making his thighs almost close, something that he does out of habit if not for your hands holding them open.

“t-that! that hurts, (y/n)-ssi!” he chokes on the moan he lets out, twitching with sensitivity when you finally move your hand along his shaft, giving him what he wants. your hand moves easily with how much he’s leaking, the lewd noises increasing in volume as you increase your pace. you make sure to pump his full length, up, down, up, down, with his arousal providing for sufficient lube.

jaehyun lets out a sob, slapping a hand over his mouth as the knot in his stomach tightens and tightens, threatening to release at any moment with how good you’re making him feel. your lips feel dry with the desperation in his movements, sounds and noises alike bringing much wetness to your underwear. it’s not the priority on your mind for now, rather more fixated on helping jaehyun to his high.

“you wanna cum, hm?” you mocked with a grin, speeding up your hand while the other goes up to tweak at his nipples, rolling them in between your thumb and index as his moans become more prominent and frequent. there’s multiple affirmations spilling from his lips, yes, yes, yes, i wanna c-cum!

“go on, then, cum,” you prompt with a pant and it hits. it hits like truck as a sultry groan rips from his throat while you observe how his veins pop out in frustration and quads flex when the string snaps. jaehyun’s eager to get more pleasure as he jerks into your already moving hand.

there’s endless profanities mixed in with mewls as he spills all over your hand, white hot spurts of cum dripping from his tip and down the back of his hand. you so skillfully lick it up while it’s still wrapped around his cock, deliberately avoiding the shaft.

as jaehyun catches his breath, there’s a whispered question of do you think you’re ready? you don’t push it when he shakes his head, but you realise that you’re thankful. so so thankful he’s come back a second time for you to be able to see this again.

and again.

and again.

the next time, you’re lapping at his hole, prodding and teasing with your tongue while his face stays buried in his sheets. he’s struggling to keep a quiet front even when you slip a finger in, both from embarrassment and the family movie going on outside and sticks his ass up into your face achingly.

“that’s it, baby boy, relax for me. gotta prepare you for my cock, now, yeah?” you moan at how easy his hole is sucking in your finger, no doubt doing the same to your strap later on.

jaehyun watches in awe as you remove your outfit, eyes lingering on the obvious bulge sticking out of your underwear. his mouth hangs open, both in fear and excitement with you having worn the strap-on for the whole day of university, lips turning up at the mere thought of you ruining him in the next few minutes.

“whatcha smiling about?” you grinned, guiding his chest down onto the bed again as he mumbles with a whine, something that makes you freeze up in the midst of lubing your cock.

“just thinking of how dumb you’d fuck me, (y/n)-ssi.” you’re sure it’s the innocence laced within the voice, so pure, so needy, yet so dirty.

your breath is shaky as you ease the strap-on into him. every inch that disappears into him only make you groan in the sight, while the male bites down on a finger to prevent any noise. by then, you’re unable to keep a cap on your lust, snapping your hips to deliver a hard thrust that has jaehyun’s moans hitting the walls.

“you doing okay, honey?”

jaehyun only hums, a pleased smile spreading across his lips as he turns back to you with eyes that take your breath away. they’re dilated, tinted with something you never knew you could bring out of jaehyun.

as his back arches to get more of your cock, you have to swallow. it’s the only way to take your mind off the sweat glistening off his back and the tight grip his hand has on your thigh.

“’s so good, (y/n), ’s so so good- mmh!” he drawls out his speech while you continue to thrust in and out at his confirmation, losing just a bit of control with how smoothly your name rolls of his tongue.

your hips meet his ass continuously, feeling the burn of your thighs and the roughness of the sheets below you. there’s distant chatter outside the door, fortunate enough for jaehyun’s room to be at the end of a passageway and away from the living room.

“h-harder! faster, p..pleeease-!” he almost screams when your cock meets his prostate, mouth dropped at the immense pleasure and tongue lolling out.

tears lingered at the corners of jaehyun’s eyes, making you want to cum on the spot with the expression on his face. beautiful, beautiful, all spread out for me. it repeated like a mantra in your head.

jaehyun cries out when your hand wraps around his cock and he swears he sees heaven for a second with eyes rolling back. you’re stroking with fervour, matching the pace of your satisfying thrusts and the squelching sounds only contribute to the atmosphere, room smelling like sex and musk and desperation.

“c’mon, baby boy, cum on my cock. do your worst.”

and he really does.

“hhhn- cumming, cumming, so good- so full!” jaehyun whimpers into the sheets, just loud enough for you to hear when you’re hovering over his body. it’s the most the male’s cummed since the last time, white staining both the sheets below you and your hand while his body jerks at the intense orgasm.

you hum, easing out the strap that jaehyun moans at the emptiness. nevertheless, he relaxes when you place a kiss on his shoulder, still recovering from the hypnotising high.

“what about.. you… (y/n)-ssi?” he slurs, turning his head on the pillow so his eyes could see you in your glory.

“you’re tired, aren’t you? come, let’s rest up-“

“no…” jaehyun whines, and you’re so close to edge him again, “wanna eat you out, (y/n)…”

your lips can taste his cum when you bite a finger out of nervousness, hands fumbling to remove your strap almost immediately. you’re positively soaked when you touch yourself after, caving in to your desire when jaehyun drags you closer.

“just relax, (y/n). take your seat,” he’s still delirious, giggling when your surprise shows. and when you eventually do? it’s the best fucking seat that he offers, his mouth sucking on your clit as your legs tremble around his ears.

“you’re delicious, (y/n).”

it’s the best fucking seat and jaehyun’s glad to clean up after you, worshipping you at the foot of your throne adorned with gold and velvet that he always comes back to. it’s addicting, but how could he resist when you’re a queen that never stops giving?

[allegra-writes]

“The Devil all the time”

Hunter!Tom x Demon!Reader

Supernatural AU

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Break the silence, damn the dark

Damn the light..."

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Forget everything you thought you knew, you had every reason to be afraid of the dark when you were a kid. In this world where monsters are real, the Holland brothers hunt them so normal people can continue to live in the bliss of ignorance.

But when something goes terribly wrong, Tom will do anything to save his brother's life, including selling his soul to the devil. Well... Not exactly the devil, but close enough.

You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this AU

MY MASTERLIST

He knew it was you, even before turning. He knew it as soon as he heard your deceptively delicate footsteps break the supernatural silence that had fallen over the forest the moment he had buried the little metal box in the old crossroad. Tom didn't want to think about what it meant, having such an intimate knowledge of you to be able to recognize you by the cadence of your steps, being so in sync with you that he could tell whenever you were in the vicinity. 

So he used his favorite deflection technique whenever it came to you.

"Y/n? What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Sorry, did I say nice girl? I meant evil skank"

The insult didn't phase you. None ever did. It was hard to take them seriously when you knew how many nights he fell asleep with your name on his lips, after pathetically releasing himself into his own hand, or fucking his boring girl-next-door girlfriend, chasing orgasm over unsatisfactory orgasm that would never completely satiate him. Because it wasn't your face the one contorted in pleasure looking up at him from the mattress.

"You called. I came" You batted your lashes, sweetly. "I always come when you call…" 

He gulped, the innuendo not lost to his ears. It threw him off guard, like it always did. 

"I would have thought this would be… beneath you" Tom cleared his throat, looking away, trying to regain his footing, "collecting a deal, like a vulgar crossroad demon"

There was nothing vulgar about the soul of a Holland. But he didn't need to know that, so you just shrugged,

"Queen Rowena has an interest in you boys. She finds you entertaining. I'm just being a good subdit" 

He scoffed,

"Funny. I would have never peg you for a sub"

You took a step closer to him.

"You don't have what it takes to make me submit, Holland" Your hot breath fanned over his skin, setting his skin on fire. Making his blood boil. You had a way of doing that, of bringing out the worst in him. Of making him lose control. And you thoroughly enjoyed it, poking at the bear until the claws came out, laughing at the carnage.

Another step, and you could physically feel it: The hate, radiating from his every pore, his mind screaming with it. He hated you. He hated your kind. He hated your beauty. He hated the pretty white dress you were wearing, so pure and innocent, glowing like a beacon in the dark. A lure, guiding uncountable men before him into perdition. 

But above all else, he hated that, even then, he couldn't help but to want you. Fervently. Desperately. Irreversibly. 

"I came here to make a deal" He croaked, cursing himself internally for showing weakness. 

"Let's negotiate, then," you replied, stepping away, mercifully letting him breath. 

"My brother-"

"I know" You interrupted, sounding bored already, "Reapers everywhere are going berserk. Who, oh who, will get to reap the soul of a Holland?" 

The wind picked up, making your long dress billow around your legs. You twirled a little, admiring the way it moved. Tom's eyes were glued to you, almost hypnotized. Partly because you were too dangerous to be left unsupervised even for a second, partly because you looked beautiful like that. It had never been more obvious to him that you were an unearthly creature, you didn't belong to this world. There, surrounded by greenery, barefoot, swaying softly under the twilight light, he wondered how could anybody ever mistake you for a human.

"Of course" your apathetic voice took him out of his revery, "being reapers, watching them go wild is rather boring. I swear they are the most uninteresting beings of all creation" 

That made him see red.

"Boring? Boring?!" He knew his voice was rising with every word but he just couldn't help it, "They're waiting for my little brother to die!!"

"Which could happen any minute now," You reminded him, all playfulness gone from your demeanor, "so if you wanna strike a deal, I suggest you start making me an offer worth my time"  

He was taken aback by that.

"I- My soul in exchange of a wish, and you collect it in ten years" He tried and failed not to think about what that implied: vicious, invisible hounds of hell tearing apart his body and dragging his soul to hell, "Isn't that the usual deal?"

You scoffed,

"After all the things you did in your life, what makes you think your soul doesn't belong in hell already? And if your brother dies, that is one less Holland on earth to worry about. You and your brothers have managed to become a big pain in the ass for us…"

He pulled out a knife, a strange one, with runes in the blade. You arched a brow in recognition

"The Winchesters' knife. Are you threatening me, little hunter?" 

Your lack of reaction was another blow. He had hoped you'd be more impressed than that. Nonetheless he turned it in his hands, offering you the handle.

"I'm throwing it into the deal" 

To his surprise, you didn't immediately take it from his hands, choosing instead to pace the clearing, deep in thought. 

The truth was you couldn't care less about the knife, it wasn't more dangerous to you than a toothpick. And while it was true it could certainly damage your queen, she had a far better weapon to protect herself: You.

But it did confirm your suspicions about the Hollands having access to the old Winchester arsenal, which meant they had access to something way more dangerous than that rustic weapon made of steel and bone. A book, made of ancient dark magic and human skin, written in blood. A book that was precious to queen Rowena and by extension to you: the Book of the Damned. 

The Hollands were a family of extremely talented, yes, but old fashioned hunters. The stab first, ask questions later kind. They probably had no idea what they had in their hands… but you did. 

"Very well then," you finally declared, "this is my offer: Your soul and that knife in exchange for sweet Harry's life and one year for you to get all your businesses in order" 

Tom felt all the blood drain from his face. One year. Just 365 more days to live, before an eternity of torture in hell. 

"O-one year?" He breathed.

"One year" You confirmed, "More than enough time to go see the Grand Canyon, eat the world's spiciest burger or whatever you have on your bucket list" 

The disdain in your words only made him hate you harder.

"Not nearly enough to live" He replied through clenched teeth. You rolled your eyes, 

"You're a hunter. You lead short, violent existences, charging head first towards what most humans run away from. Things faster, stronger, more powerful than you, surviving each encounter out of sheer luck. Killing one monster after another, until that luck runs out. Because the monsters? Unlike you who rely on it everyday, they just need. One. Single. Lucky. Strike." You punctuated every word with one step in his direction, until you were face to face again. Until, for the first time ever, you could see the fear, the desperating hopelessness he kept hidden inside, reflected on the warm coffee of his eyes. You knew a lesser man would be already crying and begging for Mercy.

Tom wasn't like other men though, that was the whole point. 

"Or…" You soften your tone and your stance, letting your fingers ghost over the back of his hand, his whole skin erupting in goosebumps. That was the very first time you touched him. Ever. 

And it was as if nobody had ever touched him before, the light caress enough to set every nerve ending, every single one of his cells, alight.

He was so distracted by the sensation and his body's response to it, he almost didn't hear your next words over the sound of his own pounding heart. 

"Or you could keep your little pocket knife, and even have your ten years if…"

"If?" He struggled to focus.

"You let me borrow a book"

His brows furrowed in confusion,

"A book? What book?"

"Any book of my liking, for as long as I want" You shrugged it off, "Do we have a deal?"

There was a catch there, it was obvious. He knew he was going to regret it but, what choice did he have? 

"Deal"

Your smile was blinding, luminous. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it angelical. Now, that was one ridiculous thought.

"What now? We seal it with a kiss?" His eyes fell to your lips, so soft looking and inviting. He wasn't eager to put his mouth on a filthy demon and doom himself. He wasn't. 

You chuckled, but there was no humor behind it.

"Oh no, darling. This is big. This is special" You're special, "A simple kiss just won't cut it…"

No. You couldn't mean… could you? Was there no limits to your hatred for him? Did you really want him so defeated, so humiliated? 

"What do you want?" He spat through gritted teeth.

"The same thing you want" You put your hands on his chest, rising to your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "The same thing you have wanted ever since we first met . The thing that's obsessing you..."

"I don't know what you're talking about"

You smirked,

"You can lie to your family, you can even lie to yourself, little hunter... But you can't lie to me." 

He couldn't hide, you could see every fantasy, hear every single one of his thoughts of you on repeat, like a prayer in your direction. Just like he couldn't hide the way his skin was burning now for you, the way his blood rushed south, the way all logical thought left his brain, his iron grip on his emotions finally breaking as he snapped. 

Lightning fast, in just a blink, he twirled you around, your back hitting the rough bark of a tree, as he towered over you, demon blade to your throat, every inch of his body pressed against yours. His eyes were ablazed with rage, and passion, as he surged forward, striking you with his best hit.

He kissed you. 

Lips vicious against yours, teeth biting and scraping only to soothe the offense seconds later with his tongue, until he was dizzy, light headed with the lack of oxygen and the taste of you. The hand not holding the knife to your neck fell to your breast, squeezing the pliant flesh with enough force to cause pain on a human woman, merely making you moan. He swallowed the sound, letting his fingers trace your waist, your hips, clawing at your dress until he finally, finally, felt skin under his fingertips. 

It was better than anything his mind had conjured in his feverish fantasies in the dead of the night. The skin of your inner thighs velvety soft, as they parted under his touch, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as his fingers found your naked core. You weren't wearing any underwear, probably never had. The realization that, in all your past encounters and fights you had been standing there, just feet away from him with nothing under that damn dress hit him like a truck, making his head swim. 

He searched between your folds, and suddenly his fingers were inside you. He was inside you, a part of him was buried deep within you, within your silky heat, claiming you as his, if only for the night. 

And you were so wet for him, and only getting wetter as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them, opening you up until he was able to slip a third one in, fucking you with his hand in earnest. You were sobbing, clutching at his biceps, head thrown back in pleasure. He took advantage of that to suck bruises on your neck, only to see them fade before his eyes. Your skin tasted clean, smelled like wild flowers and rain. Ozone. Lightning. Like those coursing through his veins with every cry, every delicious gasp you made. 

He found the perfect spot inside you, the one that sent sparks through your nerves with every stroke of his calloused fingers. 

"This what you wanted?" To make him lose it? Lose his mind, himself, in you? "For me to make you come on just my fingers, like the little slut you are?"

The floor disappeared from under his feet as you sent him flying away from you, a searing pain exploding at the back of his head as he landed, sprawled at the feet of an old, dying oak. With blurry eyes, he saw you stalk towards him, all power and cold, controlled fury. 

"Let's get one thing straight, Holland. I'm not one of your sluts" You sneered, "and I'm definitely not your basic bitch of a girlfriend. So you better start showing me a little respect, are we clear?"

He gulped, sitting up. He had to be seriously fucked up in the head, for his cock to be twitching inside his pants at your threatening tone.

"Crystal" 

"Good" You declared, coming to a stop right in front of him, standing between his parted legs, "Now, let's put that mouth of yours to a better use"

He knew that image was going to be forever tattooed on his brain: You standing in front of him, holding the skirt of your dress up, waiting for him to put his mouth on you. Tom took a moment to admire you, before delving in, flattening his tongue over your slit, before drawing tight, precise circles on your clit with the tip. God, you tasted so divine it was messing with his head; something as dark and corrupted and twisted as you, feeling so exquisite, so perfect, so heavenly to his every sense. 

He helped you hook your knee over his shoulder, his other arm snaking around your leg, pulling you even closer. You could feel his smirk against your cunt the moment he realized your legs were shaking, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not with his wicked talented mouth devouring you like a last meal, rocking your whole world, making you see stars behind your closed eyelids.

You always knew that man would make the stars fall. 

Tom kept on, penetrating you with his tongue as far as it would go, his whole face moving against you. The slight burn of his scruff felt delicious against your delicate labia, as he used his fingers to open you up like a flower, separating your petals to get to the delectable nectar inside. You were close, he could feel it, the obscene sounds you were making, the waves of sweetness falling on his lips feeding his ego, filling him up with pride. By the time the night was over, you'd be unable to forget him. He would make sure of that. He would make you come, over and over, until the only thoughts left in your brain were of him, the only word your lips knew how to speak was his name. He would mark you, like a bloodstain, like you had done to him. 

Almost there, he almost had you. Your muscles were locking, your walls starting to tremble, when a loud crack resonated over his head, and you stepped away on unstable legs, breathing hard. You didn't even need to breathe, it was just his effect on you. He made you feel human. And it was both exhilarating, and terrifying. 

You took another step back, but he took hold of your ankle, tugging hard enough to make you fall on his lap, white skirt covering the place where his hands were fumbling with his zip, with his boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

"Fuck!" He cursed, as you sank on his rock hard cock, not giving him any time to get used to the feeling of you around him, before starting to move. 

"How does it feel" You taunted, "fucking a monster? Is it as good as you dreamed of?"

Better. You felt even better. Tom hadn't thought it was possible, but he loathed you even more for it. 

"Shut up" He growled. 

You leaned forwards, breath hot against his ear,

"Cause you feel amazing, Tom. Your cock feels like heaven" 

His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he crashed his mouth to yours again, the other fumbling for the buttons at the back of your dress, tugging and pulling, tearing at the fabric, in his haste to feel more. More of your skin against his, more of the body that had been his hyper fixation for far too long. 

You sat up, still grinding on his cock, letting the tattered dress fall to your waist, watching in satisfaction as his eyes went wide, zeroing on the way your breasts bounced in sync with your hips. 

Reaching up, for a glorious second Tom could feel one perfect pebbled nipple against his palm, the roundness, the weight of your soft flesh on his fingers; before an invisible force pinned his hands to his sides. 

You tsked.

"Still don't get it, do you little hunter? This?" You let yourself fall all the way down his thick cock, hard, tearing twin moans from his mouth and yours, "This isn't about you. This is about me." 

Leaning back, you braced yourself on his strong thighs, changing the angle, changing your movements to a slower rocking against his pelvis. The friction against your clit was perfect, the feeling of his big, throbbing dick so deep inside you, stretching you like no one before, sending electrical pulses through your spine. It was decadent. It was ecstasy.

It was torture. Underneath you, Tom was sobbing, eyes bright with unshed tears, fighting in vain against his bonds. He needed it faster, harder, anything to help tilt him over the edge you were keeping him on, your sweet cunt too tight, too good around him to allow his cock to soften, your rhythm too leisured to let the tensed, strained coil inside him to snap. You were uncaring, using him remorselessly to get yourself off, your little moans getting higher in pitch the closer you came to your climax. Tom felt himself getting higher just by looking at your beautiful pleasure ridden face. You cried out, and suddenly it was happening, you were coming, pulsating around his cock, falling apart on top of him.

And the ground beneath him quaked. The sky above his head bled, the blue twilight torn open by lightning, and thunder, despite the fact that there wasn't a single cloud marring its diaphaneity. You fell forwards, hand braced on the tree, next to his face, ridding the aftershocks of your orgasm until the end. 

"No!" Tom cried when, after a few seconds of catching your breath, you dismounted him, letting his dick slip out of you. 

You arched a brow,

"Something you want, Tommy?" 

He locked his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. You smiled, amused, knuckles stroking his still iron hard cock.

"Do you need more, little hunter?" You enveloped him in your hand, moving it up and down his member, watching the head disappear under his foreskin, "Do you need to come?"

He banged the back of his head against the bark.

"Yes!" He finally admitted, "So badly…"

"Then beg" You commanded, stilling your hand. He snapped open the eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. Oh, if looks could kill…

"Never" He hissed, livid.

"Very well, then" You picked up your pace, pumping him fast, your grip almost too rough. He gasped for air, feeling the telltale tightening of his balls, the coil inside just about to break under the tension. But you must have felt it too, cause your hand let go of him altogether. Too late, he understood what you were doing.

One beat. And then another, and he was coming all over his t-shirt, orgasm completely ruined. 

He cursed, tears escaping through the corner of his eyes, fingers digging into the moist ground under his hands. You chuckled, cruelly, standing up and stepping out of your shredded dress. He could have ganked you with the demon blade in that moment, he really could have, except his hands were still pinned by an invisible force at his sides. 

"Let me go, you bitch," Tom growled, tossing, fighting against his restraints to no avail, "aren't you done?!"

"Not quite." You smiled, mockingly sweet, "Just one more thing before I leave. Don't worry, it will only hurt for a minute…"

He renewed his efforts to escape, as you bended over, reaching for his chest, white hot pain burning through his ribs. He almost cried out, but what he saw stole the voice from his throat, turned his blood into ice inside his veins, leaving him shaking, jaw slack and mouth open in a soundless scream: 

You, naked and gorgeous and terrible. Transfixed, eyes glowing with a supernatural indigo light, the shadow of two massive, bended, broken wings projected on the trees behind you.

Not a demon, he thought. You're not a demon.

You smiled, and it was terrifying.

"No. I'm the thing demons have nightmares about" You replied out loud to the words he had only said in his mind, "And now, little hunter, you belong to me. Mind, body and soul"

[modx-reborn]

Modx can you just immmmagine pegging Ghostbur and finding out he has such a mommy kink ? 👀👀👀

Lmao can you imaginnnnnnne

But seriously thank you x

-🍄

🍄 I can, I really can.

It was a slow process to get here, day after day of sweet words and gentle touches to get Ghostbur to let you close enough to do this, to have him trust you like you trust him. To have him so pretty and pliable beneath you right now, legs spread and resting over your thighs with his hands holding the hem of his sweater up to let you see all of him.

Grey skin flushing as you coo at him, praising his obedience and running your fingers up his length, smearing the small bead of pre-cum that sat there across his shaft.

"Look at you pretty boy, all spread out and waiting for me. You ready for this pretty thing? Or do you want more touch?"

His voice warbles when he answers asking for more then just the touch he had received in the past, whispering just loud enough that he wanted what you offered to him. Having let him choose which you he would be taking and prepping it before you had even laid him down, lets you chuckle before leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek, telling him you will give him what he wants.

Cooing when he shudders at the feeling of cold lube on his skin, shushing his little cries when your fingers brush against his sweet spot, just enjoying how the ghost beneath you crumbles at just your fingers in him.

Pressing your lips to his to quiet the whines that follow you slipping your fingers out of him, and swallowing the moan that follows the press of your peg into him. Only pulling away from the kiss to watch his eyes open and watch as you skin the toy further and further into him, lidded white eyes unable to look away when you finally come to a stop.

The first small rocking thrust has him gasping, lips falling open and mind slipping when you wrap a hand around his cock using the other to hold his hips still. Enjoying the weight of him in your hand and how the buck of you hips has him fucking himself as you finally get to fuck him, but soon the moans of your name that stream from Ghostbur turn to something else, another name, a title that brings you to a stop.

"Mommy!"

Who would have known a single word would send such shivers down your spine.

"Oh pretty boy, you should have told me you wanted that... But now I know, and I won't keep a thing from my pretty baby, no no no I won't. After all, would be a good Mommy for you if I did, now would I?"

[queerdraws]

Cleaning Out the Rooms - a Harry Du Bois playlist Alcoholism, getting better?, memory loss, being a superstar, The Final Dream, forming political opinions, bad breakups, past transgressions, being a strange and inconsistent being, and persisting despite it all 26 songs (r-slur warning for Turnin’ on the Screw - QotSA)

including: David Bazan, They Might be Giants, The Mountain Goats, British Sea Power (of course), Queens of the Stone Age, and more.  Full track listing and lyric excerpts under the cut

---- Turnin' on the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age (This is the opening track on Era Vulgaris, seemed like an appropriate opening song / introduction to Harry's general essence) ----

... They say those who can't just instruct others And act like victims or jilted lovers You can't lose it if you never had it Disappear, man, do some magic

Want a reason? How's about because You ain't a has been if you never was

I sound like this

Scared to say what is your passion So slag it all, bitter's in fashion Fear of failure's all you've started The jury is in, verdict: r******d

I'm so tired, and I'm wired too I'm a mess; I guess I'm turning on the screw

---- Bless this Mess - David Bazan (Harry being a drunk and a general mess, things going in cycles) ----

God bless the man who stumbles God bless the man who falls God bless the man who yields to temptation God bless the woman who suffers God bless the woman who weeps God bless the children trying her patience Trouble getting over it Is what you're in for So pour yourself another 'Cause it'll take a steady pair of hands Holy or unholy ghost Well now I can't tell, but either way you cut it You should get some distance if you plan to take a stand God bless the house divided God bless the weeds in the wheat God bless the lamp hid under a bushel I discovered hell to be the poison in the well So I tried to warn the others of the curse But then my body turned on me I dreamt that for eternity My family would burn Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

---- Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair - Arctic Monkeys (general Harry vibe.  off-kilter) ----

Break a mirror, roll the dice

...

Find a well-known hard man and start a fight Wear your shell suit on bonfire night Fill in a circular hole with a peg that's square

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

...

Bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes Kung fu fighting on your roller skates Do the Macarena in the devil's lair

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

---- I've Been Seeing Things - They Might be Giants (feels very Harry's detecting style, surreal happenstance) ----

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things Don't have answers but I've got lots of questions

Carpool's up, someone gets out Hand someone else a violin case I'm trying not to let them see me looking at them But I'm pretty sure there was a dollar sign

Keep your eyes peeled and you'll see stuff Which at first seems like unimportant irrelevant things

Can't just ask some perfect stranger "What are you hiding in your violin case?" Shadow them at a distance instead Try to get inside their head

Where'd they go now (Where'd they go now) I got distracted (I got distracted) Begging me to stay (Begging me to stay) Wearing a disguise (Wearing a disguise) That lady (That lady) Must have ditched the kid (Must have ditched the kid) Hidge the down (Hidge the down) [???] What's she up to now? (What's she up to now?) Trembling cold by the airport road Watching them stack containers in rows Seagulls, helicopter, windblown trash Something doesn't add up

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things No one asks but I'm packing all kinds of attention

Later I'm watching a news report Camera pans across a crime scene Unremarked upon detail Empty violin case Okay maybe not the same case Different material, different color Still you have to wonder Am I the only one who knows

I've been seeing things

---- Music is the Victim - Scissor Sisters (breakup Harry.  drug-addled disco Harry) ----

I left my heart in San Fransisco It's at some motherfucking disco The people there where dancin' on it And that's including Ms. Matronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

Of your bad fun Money's all gone but you need some Lover's on the phone but they got none Daddy ain't home from the dog run And you're riding through the city with a shotgun

I left my bag in Pasadena Where all them girls was doin' Tina Them bitches sure were crunked up on it I said I'd rather smoke some chronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

---- Down to Your Soul - Right Away, Great Captain! (about the Final Dream and pre-game Harry) ----

And I see things I actually don't see. I knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach. I looked into your eyes and I began to lose my teeth, And I felt you were dreaming the same thing.

And I know you don't know what I'm capable of But if you give me just one more minute I'm sure That you would be shaking right down to your soul And I'd hope that the fear of the lord brings me home. I'm a man in a body of water so tall Could swallow you whole and forget where he's going But I carved a map in the back of my arm Don't worry I'm coming home I said don't worry cause I'm coming home

---- No Surprises - Radiohead (suicidal harry, pre-game.  Maybe immediately before the game.  A little Big Communism Builder) ----

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us I'll take a quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

…

This is my final fit My final bellyache

…

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)

---- Cleaning Out the Rooms - British Sea Power (The instrumental part seems to have been used / referenced for a background music track.  And also the name of that one thought project. as expected, it fits beautifully.  Wake up in a new life, down by the seaside.  Cleaning out the rooms.  She’ll be coming soon.) ----

Where life is good in a way Swept away upon our hearts, in cold coal ceremonial On a rainy day, hang it up Get the vacuum and suck it in Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up Dark cloud, drifting out of view I'll never know, she'll be coming soon, that is all I'll wake up in a new life, ship shape and shoe shine Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up She'll be coming soon Drifting into view, way in the west, white cloud If everybody knew, I never knew, she'll be coming soon I'll wake up in a new life, down by the seaside In a new life, down by the seaside Cleaning out the room, I'll clean it up Dark clouds, she'll be coming soon Down the chimney, out the window, that is all

---- In the Morning of the Magicians - The Flaming Lips (waking up with no memory, but bad vibes) ----

In the morning I awake

And I couldn't remember What is love and what is hate

The calculations error

Oh, what is love and what is hate? And why does it matter? Is to love just a waste? And how can it matter?

Oh...

As the dawn began to break I had to surrender The universe will have its way Too powerful to master

---- Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads (Huh??  What's happening??  same as it ever was, same as it ever was) ----

And you may ask yourself, "How do I work this?" And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large automobile?" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful house" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful wife"

...

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

...

And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?" And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?" And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?" And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"

---- Don't Change - David Bazan (alcoholism, cycles of wanting to get better, depression, slipping in to old coping mechanisms, plus a little bit in here about dreams.  This is a song for if Harry continues partying after the memory wipe, I suppose) ----

He seems nice You met him once or twice But you wonder what he's like When he's sober

Then again You hear he has no friends Just people that he spins To do him favors

When he wakes up in the morning he tells himself Today I'll make a change But falling into his bed at night he thinks Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

I'm so deep That only in my sleep Do the secrets that I keep Float to the surface

So I hold them down Till they don't make a sound Like they accidentally drowned Except on purpose

And when I wake up in the morning I tell myself Today I'll make a change But falling into my bed at night I think Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

---- Airbag - Radiohead (born again, back to save the universe) ----

In the next world war In a jackknifed juggernaut I am born again In the neon sign scrolling up and down I am born again

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

In a deep, deep sleep of the innocent I am born again In a fast German car I'm amazed that I survived An airbag saved my life

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

---- A Comet Appears - The Shins (puppeting a man-body around pretending to be a living thing. drinking, depression) ----

One hand on this wily comet Take a drink just to give me some weight Some uber-man I'd make I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on A host of individual sins Let's carve my aging face off Fetch us a knife Start with my eyes Down so the lines Form a grimacing smile

Close your eyes to corral a virtue Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard To cement a failure

---- The Communists Have the Music - They Might be Giants (Big Communism Builder, but especially Harry's shallow understanding of Communism.  Party-boy communist) ----

I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich Straight from the can, it tasted so bland I asked a lass to pass me a glass Of Engels' Conditions of the Working Class

Right away they dragged me to the committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

I'm not partial to the martial Or the plutocrats, in their beaver hats And the fascists have the outfits But I don't care for the outfits What I care about is music And the communists have the music

---- Harlem Roulette - The Mountain Goats (Harry thinking about Guillame le Million?  Generally: that vibe of secret, maybe supranatural machinations happening just outside your field of view.  A kinda lonely, pensive vibe, sprinkled with past drug use, driving...memory) ----

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968. Just a pair of tunes to hammer out. Everybody's off the clock by 10:00. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. Feels so free when I hit the avenue. Nothing like a New York summer night. Every dream's a good dream, Even awful dreams are good dreams, If you're doing it right. Remember soaring higher than a cloud. Get pretty sentimental now and then. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on. And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone. Armies massing in the dusky distance. Ghosted in the ribbon microphone. Leave a little mark on something, maybe, Take the secret circuit home. Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands. Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again.

---- Suture up Your Future - Queens of the Stone Age (Harry's gonna fix his mess) ----

I'm gon' suture up my future I ain't jaded, I just hate it See, I been down too long It's kinda hard to explain Burned and buried, all I carried

...

Tried explaining unexplained Got caught in the plan All this talking at once I've been giving my love away To the things that tear it apart I'm gonna suture up my future

---- Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse (Harry trashing his body / having already trashed his body, just kinda a Harry-vibe song) ----

...

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out This is what I really call a party now Well, fear makes us really, really run around A-this one's done so where to now? Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all Well, you all know what I'm talking about The room lights up, but we're still dancing around We're having fun, having some fun now

Pack up again, head to the next place Where we'll make the same mistakes Open one up and let it fall to the ground Pile out the door when it all runs out

...

As our feelings are getting hurt Oh, we want you to do the work Our ass looks great inside these jeans Well, we want just our water clean

Well, this is how it's always been And this is how it's going to be So you just move on

---- Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes (Harry "can-opener" du Bois.  Talking to the skills, solving things, detecting, generally being a terrifying force of nature / the pale) ----

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it Every single one's got a story to tell Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell

And if I catch it coming back my way I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says, "Find a home"

---- Body of Years - Mother Mother (Harry's past that follows him, Harry's half-decomposed body that marks the years of abuse it's been through) ----

All the remains of a cadaver of days I keep hidden away, keep them there just in case I wanna visit that place Blow the dust from the bones Off a body of years that I leave all alone Just a body of years

See the skin disappears And the blood turns to stone In a body of years now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul It's a body of years that I leave all alone

It's Just a body of years, now a pile of bones You know Old soul who falls down Can't stop trippin' on these Old roads I go down Get back up and get my foot in the door And my face on the page Make my mark in the world With a bat and a blade It's a body of work that you can't ever change Like a body of years that you take to your grave It's just a body of years that I leave all alone It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul

---- The Cap-m - They Might be Giants (just a Harry vibe song) ----

When I talk you keep looking away from me 'Cause you probably think that I'm high on pot But I'm not, I'm not

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You say it's such a joke But I don't see you laughing

People seem to think you can't be called the Cap'm Unless you drive a boat Well, I don't I don't

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm Go ahead and mess with me You'll find out what will happ'm

...

Did you say what I think you just said My hat looks good on me? I agree, I agree

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You act like it's a joke But I don't see you laughing

---- Broke - Modest Mouse (oops!  all mistakes.  Broke it all.  Want to forget it but can't) ----

Broke account, so I broke a sweat I've bought some things that I sort of regret about now Broke my pace and ran out of time Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise 'cause my car broke down Such a classic excuse it should be bronze by now Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice You said that I was an asshole and I paid the price

Broken hearts want broken necks I've done some things that I'd love to forget, but I can't

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow It's the end of the discussions that just go 'round and 'round And 'round, and 'round, and 'round ... It was like everything was evidence of broken time

You're living on fancy wine You'll drink that turpentine You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

---- Spent Gladiator 2 - The Mountain Goats (Defiantly alive) ----

Like a spent gladiator, Crawling in the coliseum dust. Who can count on his remaining limbs, All the people he can trust. Like the one who stands behind him, Cheering him on. Ecstatic when he stands defiant, Wild with abandon when he's gone. Just stay alive. Keep your eyes on the pay line. Like a village on the step, About to get collectivized. When the men emerge with rifles from the haystack, Everybody looks surprised. Like the mice in the forgotten grain, Way up on the top shelf. Like someone who's found a small town to escape to, Keeps one eye on his abandoned, former self. Stay in the game. Just try to play through the pain. Like a fighter who's been told its finally time for him to quit. Show up in shining colors, And then stand there and get hit. Like the clock that ticks in Dresden, When the whole town's been destroyed. Like the nagging flash of insight, You're always desperate to avoid. Like the bloody-knuckled gunman, Still stationed at the breach. Like that board game with the sliders, And the children on the beach. Stay alive. Maybe spit some blood at the camera. Just stay alive. Stay forever alive.

---- You Only Live Once - The Strokes (just general Harry, talking about the skills, choices you can make, what kind of cop you can be) ----

Twenty-nine different attributes Only seven that you like, oh-oh Twenty ways to see the world, oh And twenty ways to start a fight, oh

...

And countless odd religions too It doesn't matter which you choose, oh, no One stubborn way to turn your back, oh This I've tried and now refuse, oh

Oh don't, don't, don't get up I can't see the sunshine Oh, I'll be waiting for you, baby 'Cause I'm through Sit me down Shut me up I'll calm down And I'll get along with you

---- Pork and Beans - Weezer (Superstar Cop) ----

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear Oakley makes the shades to transform a tool You'd hate for the kids to think that you've lost your cool

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

No, I don't care I don't care

---- Freaks - Surf Curse (head filled with skills, The Final Dream) ----

Don't kill me just help me run away From everyone I need a place to stay Where I can cover up my face Don't cry, I am just a freak

I am just a freak(x3)

My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time

I won't wake up this time(x3)

---- The Smallest Church in Sussex - British Sea Power (oh yeah this is mandatory) ----

[xuxishortcake]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend kyungsoo starts to get a little handsy with you while you’re out with friends . you take advantage of his sudden neediness & have some fun with him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : dom!reader sub!kyungsoo smut , cursing, pegging , femdom, cunninglus, spanking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.3k

ok, so as a kyungsoo bias, I feel like there's a lack in ffs about him at times, especially him being subby. so um, here's my secret fantasy of pegging a needy kyungsoo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) lol enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅* ❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

you & kyungsoo were out at a nearby cafe with a few of his members. you were all sat around the biggest table in there. you could tell kyungsoo was incredibly needy today by the way he kept looking at you, clinging to your arm as you joked around with baekhyun & xiumin. you rubbed his hand, continuing on with the conversation, but kyungsoo wanted more than just that. his legs were bouncing, feet tapping, waiting in anticipation for you to notice the forming hard-on between his thighs. he let go of your arm after a bit & sneakily moved his hand down to caress your thigh, squeezing it here & there. you looked down briefly but didn't say anything to him, which made him pout in frustration. he just wanted to leave so bad & have you finally take care of him. getting bolder, he snaked his hand under the skirt you were wearing & gently tugged onto the lace of your underwear. he moved downwards, his fingers ghosted over your clit. you gave a side eyed glance over to him, with eyes that said 'you're gonna get it tonight. ' he quickly removed his hands off of you, a little bit in fear, a little bit more turned on & tried to distract himself by talking to jongin. twenty minutes later, everyone was saying goodbye to one another & kyungsoo was finally excited to get some sort of relief, pants pressed way too tightly against his painful boner. he hurried onwards to where your apartment was at; you were taking all the time you liked, maybe walking even a little slower on purpose just to tease him. once you finally made it to the entrance of your apartment(which felt like an eternity to kyungsoo), you pulled out your keys very, very slowly & turned them into the key hole. once you were inside, you pushed him against the wall.

"what did you think you were doing?" you said in a bit of an angry tone. "you know any of them could have seen that, right?"

"I don't care. I needed your help. " he replied trying to grind his hips up into you for some sort of friction. you stopped him though.

"oh? don't care? well, I hope you don't care about the punishment you will be receiving now because you were being so damn handsy." you said as you walked into your bedroom, kyungsoo trailing behind you excitedly like a puppy.

"I want you fully stripped. now." you commanded. he wasted no time in shimmying out of his clothes. you could see how hard he was, cock swollen at the tip in a beautiful shade of crimson with precum dripping out of it. it made you lick your lips at the sight.

"sit" you pointed towards the floor & kyungsoo immediately sat down, eyes looking up at you with anticipation. it wasn't everyday that you were able to dom him, with him being primarily dom himself, so you wanted to take this rare opportunity & have the most with it. you started to strip yourself until you were only in your underwear. you slowly unclapsed your bra, letting it fall to the floor. you turned around & bent over, ass in perfect view with only the thin & lacy semi transparent underwear you had on just barely covering anything.

"you like what you see?" you asked seductively,smiling. you put both hands on your ass, slapping your cheeks. he gulped & nodded his head quickly.

you hooked your fingers around the waist band & started to slowly peel off your underwear, kyungsoo not taking his eyes off you, not even for a second. you turned around, shimmying out of your underwear & walked closer to his face.

"if you want less of a severe punishment, eat me out like a good boy." you said as you placed a foot onto the bed behind him so he could get to you.

he didn't waste any time in eating you out. his hands wrapped around your thighs, so he was able to keep you in position. he ate you out as if he was a starved man, drinking in every single bit of you. his tongue lapped over your wet folds & then delve into your pussy. his nose was rubbing against your clit as his tongue dove deeper & deeper into you. you held onto his hair & he groaned against you, sending out a lovely vibration. you could feel yourself reaching your climax, legs starting to tremble. this only motivated kyungsoo to go faster, putting all his attention to your clit. you finally came, squirting all over his mouth.he lapped up all of you, not letting any go to waste. he was trying to push his limits & continue going. you pulled him away from your pussy, tilting his head up to stare into his lust filled eyes & look at his mouth, glistening with your juices.

"on the bed." you panted out, still slightly shaken from that astounding orgasm. a little cocky smile was forming on his lips as he laid onto the bed.

"get on all fours." you said walking over to your dresser to rummage around for your double strapon & lube. you returned to him, inserting the dildo inside of you & climbing on top of him. you spread out his cheeks, squirting lube onto his hole. you rubbed the tip of your pseudo dick against his ass, barely dipping it in before pulling back out.

"ugh, d-dont tease me." he whined out, precum leaking out of his cock & onto the bed.

"what do you say then?"

"pl-please miss."

you finally went inside of him. he let out a deep, guttural groan. you gave him a little time to adjust before starting to thrust into him. you lay a spank on his ass. he letout a squeak, which turned into a soft low moan. you lay another, & another, drawing out a wonderful mixture of high & low sounds. his right cheek was turning into a pretty shade of scarlet; you could see the imprint of your hand on him. you pressed your chest against his back & pounded deeper into him. you moved your hand to his underside & started to pump his cock, thrusting & pumping in a rhythm. he was really a moaning mess now, his knuckles were white,clutching desperately at the bed sheets. probably all of your neighbors knew what was going on between the sounds of skin slapping & the way he kept repeating your name followed by a lewd sound coming from his mouth.

"oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm so close." he panted out, trembling beneath you.

"don't come yet." you said sweating, pounding into him harder than ever.

you could feel a second orgasm coming over you, kyungsoo was shaking profusely beneath you, voice starting to crack & eyes brimmed with tears.

"oh shit, " you moaned out. "I'm about to come again baby."

"c-can I too miss? AH pl-please?" he begged out.

"yes, you may. "

kyungsoo whined loudly, shooting ropes. you came right after, moaning against him. you rode it out together, now thrusting & pumping sloppier with cum overflowing from your hand. you pulled out, took out your strap & flopped right down next to him. he turned over, he was trying to recover his breath.

"holy fuck, that was amazing." he let out, smiling over at you." we need to do this wayyy more. "

"well I'm down for it if you're down baby." you said, pressing a gentle kiss onto his damp forehead. “ I hope I didn’t go too hard on you..”

"no , you didn’t. it’d be worth it anyway if you had. “ he paused. “you're goddamn beautiful." he said as he kissed you.

"you are too love." you replied, pulling him in for another kiss & wrapping your arms around his torso. the two of you stayed like that for the rest of the day.

[utterlyinevitable]

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1  |  Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.  

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.  

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them. 

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is. 

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance. 

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding. 

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will. 

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension... 

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness. 

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look. 

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her. 

For her. 

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke; 

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.      

______________________

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