#i might have thrown in a bloody hell at one point

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Shadow Dragons

Now that we have dealt with our World State, it’s time to pick Rook’s background. When I first learned that there would be six factions to choose from, I was honestly very ecstatic. You’re telling me we’re getting six different origin stories for Rook? Did BioWare finally listen to the fans’ wish to get one more game with DAO-style prologue missions before the big main plot begins? Then I learned that six of the companions you meet would represent one of those respective factions, and I was like “Amazing, so you will definitely have one party member with whom you can at least align interests and goals from the start.”

What we ended up getting was…sort of something in the middle. Your backstory is brought up and you get quite a lot of unique dialogue regarding your faction. If you’re a Shadow Dragon, there’s a lot of Minrathous dialogue tailored to you specifically. If you’re a Grey Warden, you’re having an absolute field day whenever the Blight is involved, which is…a huge chunk of the game.

But there was…something missing for me. You see, when we start the game, we’re immediately thrown into this epic mission where Rook, Varric, and Harding find Neve and race to stop Solas. It feels very much like we’re starting somewhere in the middle rather than at the beginning. And that, in my humble opinion, is due to the lack of a unique origin story that you can actually play through. So, here’s what the next few parts of this hypothetical rewrite of Veilguard will focus on: creating six unique playable origin stories that would very much be doable without the vampiric leech known as “development hell” hovering over you. This post will focus solely on the Shadow Dragon origin story, so stay tuned for the others. I’m aware of how long it might take between posts, but I want to make sure I do this the right way.

Creating Rook

We start the game, which immediately kicks off Varric’s opening narration. But instead of Varric talking about Solas immediately, we’re gonna set the stage for the general state of Northern Thedas: with the South experiencing a few years of relative peace, the North is a wholly different story: Tevinter and the Qunari have engaged in a bloody and brutal all-out war, the Grey Wardens are growing more reclusive, strange reality warping occurs in Arlathan Forest, a part of the Antaam broke off and is now occupying Antiva and Rivain, strange whispers arise from the Grand Necropolis, basically, everything is in chaos. But Varric is certain that one person is the key to all this. Cue the distant howling of a wolf and six red eyes. Cut to black.

Now we get to customise Rook and choose our faction. As the title of this post suggests, we’re taking the Shadow Dragon route. The backstory text, however, is going to be different to the one we get in DAV. You see, when reading through those backstories, I got the feeling that all of them sounded like outlines for what could have been the origin story quest. I am actually 100% confident that BioWare planned on including prologue missions at one point but had to scrap them due to development hell reasons. And all of the six summaries essentially boil down to “you upset some higher authority and now your faction wants you out of the spotlight.” All the choices regarding Rook’s personality have already been made for us. Playing this actual backstory allows us to roleplay in a roleplaying game, which…shocking, I know, but here me out. Instead, the origin text we get when we click on the Shadow Dragons is simply going to be:

“You are a Shadow Dragon. This underground resistance opposes corrupt rulers and slavery in Tevinter. Coming from all walks of life, they are determined to bring justice to the people. As a member of House Mercar, a renowned Soporati family renowned on the battlefield against the Antaam, you have much influence to bring, and much to lose.”

That’s just the small little snippet we see when hovering over the option. But that’s all we’re gonna get for now. There is no mention yet of Rook’s personality as we’ll get to shape it ourselves a little bit. So, we customise our Rook, finalise our massive World State, and click on the play button at last.

Varric’s narration continues, just like in DAV, but this time, he’s going to give us our chosen faction’s backstory. We get a recap on how Dorian and Maevaris founded the Lucerni shortly after the war with Corypheus and how much of a ray of hope this group was in the twisted and corrupt society of the Tevinter Imperium. But then, some of the more powerful magisters began to heavily push against them, eventually leading to Maevaris being framed for treason and losing her seat in the Magisterium. She took all the blame on herself so that Dorian would be able to retain a spotless reputation and continue their work on the great political stage. Maevaris took the remaining Lucerni underground and formed the Shadow Dragons, continuing their work under a different name. Now unbound by political restrictions, the Shadow Dragons are free to take more radical measures in their fight against oppression and slavery. And Varric is confident that the perfect candidate to go against the bigger threat can be found in this group.

The Shadow Lair

Our story begins in Minrathous, in the underground base of the Shadow Dragons. And right off the bat, we’re making a change regarding said base’s location. In DAV, it stands in a random building somewhere in Dock Town that pretty much anyone could access. I get that they were probably going for the “hide in plain sight” approach, but let’s actually have some fun here.

In this rewrite, the Shadow Dragons are literally operating from the underground. Now, Minrathous’ underground system has two things that are very beneficial for a secretive rebellious organisation:

Vast catacombs. The catacombs of Minrathous are so massive that they can store food to survive years of siege. Minrathous, like so many cities and settlements in Tevinter, is built on the bones of Elvhenan. You can easily get lost in those catacombs.

Gigantic sewers. The sewers are arguably even more treacherous than the catacombs, because we have seen in Tevinter Nights what can lurk there. Imagine the sewers of the greatest city in the world, the greatest magical city in the world. Surely it comes with its own set of urban legends akin to the sewer gator. But in a city like Minrathous, those legends are probably true. Failed magical experiments, lyrium-infused mutations, abominations of former mages who failed some twisted blood magic experiment, possessed objects; all this can be found in Minrathous’ sewers. Dangerous for everyone, and therefore perfect for the Shadow Dragons.

The Shadow Dragons operate from a place called "The Shadow Lair”, a section of an underground district known simply as “The Undercity”. That’s where all the poor and forgotten retreat if they wish to disappear from the world, or criminals who flee the Imperium’s justice system. A dangerous but also perfect place.

NOTE: For the duration of the prologue, Rook will be referred to by the name of Mercar, as “Rook” is the name they give themselves after disappearing from the scene.

Depending on what race Mercar is, the stakes vary:

If Mercar is a human, they are the direct heir of House Mercar, destined to take over the family name one day. If Mercar is a human mage, they are currently in the process of getting their family appointed to Laetan status, which will give them more political power and influence.

If Mercar is a dwarf, they are an adopted scion of House Mercar.

If Mercar is an elf or a qunari, they are an official slave of House Mercar, but it’s made pretty clear in the beginning that House Mercar’s slaves are slaves in name only, while actually being more akin to paid servants. House Mercar simply refers to them as slaves to stay under the Magisterium’s radar and actually uses them to pass on information to the Shadow Dragons.

I was personally disappointed that DAV didn’t really touch on Tevinter’s slavery system. It felt a bit like I was treated with kid gloves and not given the trust to being able to handle dark topics. But Tevinter, as has been established in all DA media before DAV, is a pretty dark place for anyone who isn’t a human mage. And it’s important to depict that as it shows the stakes and just how rotten of a society the Imperium is. We need to see what the Shadow Dragons are actually fighting for. It’s not enough to just tell us how much a freedom fighter group we are, no, we need to see it.

Meeting the Leaders of the Shadow Dragons

For the sake of this playthrough, our Mercar is going to be a human mage, and thus not only the direct heir to the house but also one who can elevate it to Laetan status. We have a lot to lose, so we must be extra careful in this precarious situation.

So Mercar meets with the leaders of the Shadow Dragons, namely Maevaris and the Viper. From this conversation, we get the general gist of what’s about to happen and why we are here: House Mercar decided to get a bit more involved with the Shadow Dragons after both parties discovered a massive plot for something big involving Minrathous’ vast slave population. Whatever it is, it’s happening somewhere in Dock Town, and we are to rendezvous with Neve Gallus, a local and renowned detective, to get to the bottom of this.

Exploring the Shadow Lair

After the conversation, we get to have a quick look around the Shadow Lair, where we can instigate a small series of encounters:

We can talk to Maevaris some more and learn about her past and her motivation behind what used to be the Lucerni.

We can talk to the Viper and learn more about him, how he’s usually running operations and that he’s from an Altus house. But that’s about everything you can learn about him at this point in time.

We can meet Lorelei and learn about her being one of the city elves Loghain sold to Tevinter all the way back in DAO. She will give a few remarks on how the Hero of Ferelden dealt with the Alienage and how she and Alistair made it a more just place.

NOTE: For this rewrite’s hypothetical playthrough, the Hero of Ferelden is a Human Noble who romanced Alistair and became Queen of Ferelden. She is now searching for a cure for the Calling.

We can have a bit of a look at the Undercity and just see how much of a poor and dark place it is. This is the gutter, no, this is below the gutter. The people here wish to disappear. They are miserable, most of them have given up hope. The Shadow Dragons are the only ones who actually care about them.

Since the Undercity is below modern Minrathous, we can see traces of ancient elven architecture on display, including mosaics and frescoes.

An Old Friend

Just as we’re about to leave for Dock Town, a familiar face strides into the Shadow Lair: Varric Tethras. Yes, we actually get to see Rook’s first meeting with Varric here! Maevaris greets and introduces him to us (and we actually get to know that Varric and Maevaris are family, which DAV kind of glossed over, thank you very much). Mercar gets to have a first chat with Varric, where he assess our personality. This vibe check is what allows us to determine Rook’s general personality: are we diplomatic, humorous, or aggressive? I fully get that Varric wouldn’t pick an evil person to fight against Solas, but we should still have some kind of roleplay room regarding Rook’s way of thinking and speaking.

Varric’s purpose in these prologues is very similar to Duncan’s in DAO. He’s the one who recruits you into the larger fight and acts as a mentor figure for a while. I was actually fully expecting that to be the case in the actual game when we were told that Varric recruits Rook into the fight against Solas. Well, he did, but I would have liked to see it! Alas, we shall do so here!

Varric stays behind in the Shadow Lair while we go off and do our thing.

Entering Dock Town

Dock Town is pretty much right above the Undercity, the gutter above the actual gutter. The entrance to the Shadow Lair is quite hidden with enchantments, known only to Shadow Dragons and their associates.

Dock Town is going to stay pretty much exactly as we see it in the game. If there is one place in Minrathous where everyone could mingle without being necessarily immediately prosecuted, it’s that place (which is probably why that’s the only part of Minrathous we see in the game, but I digress). However, there will be one major change: slavery is still a thing.

Dock Town is…well…a place where ships dock. That includes ships of slave traders and prisoners of war. In this rewrite, Tevinter is still locked into a war with the Qunari, so there will be a lot of that reflected in the environment. As we walk through Dock Town, we see guards on high alert, slaves and prisoners being led away in chains. We’re doing some important environmental storytelling here that lets us know exactly why Tevinter is a place that needs to be liberated and changed so desperately.

Meeting Neve Gallus

We find Neve Gallus at the Cobbled Swan. Depending on dialogue choices, we might or might not have heard of her up to this point. I think it would be fun if Mercar could geek out about her because he read some sensationalist tabloid about one of her cases.

So Neve tells us that a huge part of Dock Town was closed off for a great event, a former small coliseum that hasn’t been used in decades. Coincidentally, several unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are being dragged into that area.

Neve has a good lead to assume that the Venatori are somehow behind this because of course they are. Neve gives us a recap on what the Venatori are and how she had multiple run-ins with them already. She is to be absolutely certain that Mercar can be trusted as they will need to work together on this. In response, Mercar shares his side of the information, that his father, Charon Mercar, who is also a respected Legatus in this rewrite, oversaw a strange pattern in how many prisoners of war and masterless slaves, primarily from places like Ventus and Carastes, Qunari-conquered cities, have simply disappeared, and how surprisingly many military vessels have been transferred to Minrathous. Since Neve is a detective, it’s fun to make this part of the journey feel a bit like a crime mystery.

Once all information has been shared, Neve declares that it’s time to go.

Approaching the Coliseum

Neve takes us across Dock Town’s roofs towards the closed-off area of the coliseum. There, we see just how massively guarded it is. The official excuse for all this is a military training exercise. Horrifyingly, this is much closer to the truth than we realise. There are Imperial Templars and Legionnaires patrolling the outskirts, so we have to find our way in.

Neve directs us to a secret hiding spot, where we meet Tarquin, who is, as we know, an Imperial Templar working for the Shadow Dragons. Not even he knows exactly what’s happening, but something definitely big is going on.

There are two options before us: do we sneak in from above and observe from the shadows, or do we disguise ourselves as templars and participate in a more open manner? This right here gives us another choice regarding Mercar’s way of doing things. Are we feeling confident enough to just walk in and hide in plain sight? Or do we take the stealthy approach? While Neve is all for stealth, Tarquin prefers the closer look. So a first major choice presents itself:

Follow Neve and observe the proceedings from above, quietly gathering the information you need.

Follow Tarquin and disguise yourself as an attendant, getting a much closer look at the proceedings.

So I’m feeling a little brave right now. I think my Mercar would try to do the bold approach to get better results, even if it means a higher risk. For this playthrough, I’m choosing to follow Tarquin and let myself be disguised. Neve begrudgingly follows along.

Entering the Coliseum

A few minutes later, Mercar, Neve, and Tarquin approach the Coliseum gates in disguise. Tarquin wears his Templar armour, while Mercar and Neve are dressed as mages of the Legion.

Once we enter the arena, we have the chance to explore it for a little while. Doing so allows us to encounter the following:

We can have an early chat with Magister Zara Renata, who will, of course, be very relevant later, along with her lackeys Felicia and Calivan, all of whom are prominent members of the Venatori. Neve is able to make that connection due to Felicia’s brother Livius having so notoriously attempted to corrupt the Wardens at Adamant Fortress in DAI.

We may encounter Magister Bataris, alongside his son Albin and get early hints of just how far the Venatori corruption runs.

If we make a good enough persuasion attempt at the Templar Captain guarding the entrance to a basement, we shall enter it and discover the prisoners and slaves intended for some heinous affair. Here, and only here, if we perform this correct dialogue choice, and being a human mage, unfortunately, certainly helps here, we get to see that our father, Charon Mercar, is among the imprisoned. And the worst of it all? He doesn’t even recognise you. Actually none of the slaves and prisoners react in any way, as all of them seem to be under some sort of spell. As we look closer, we can see that all of them have strange spiked collars around their necks, filled with blood. This is blood magic that keeps them entranced. If we want to risk it, we have time to break our father’s collar and ensure that perhaps, he can escape. So we do just that.

The Imperator

Following our exploration of the Coliseum, we get streamed into a crowd of onlookers as the Imperator of Tevinter’s legions, the Supreme Legatus himself, Magister Aemilianus Laskaris, enters the centre of the arena.

We know from DAV that Tevinter has an Imperator, and the Imperator is not the same as the Archon in this context. While the Archon is the overall ruler, the Imperator is the highest military commander. Think of this guy as Tevinter’s version of Loghain. Laskaris also happens to be one of the loudest voices responsible for forcing the Lucerni out of the Magisterium.

Laskaris delivers a speech in which he proclaims just how bad Tevinter is faring against the Antaam. Here we get some early insight into the fact that a large chunk of the Qunari army broke off and is now bearing down on Antiva and Rivain. However, a large part of it remained and is following the Arishok into battle against the Imperium. And even against this broken Antaam, the Legions are starting to fail.

Laskaris cites lost cities such as Ventus, Carastes, and Neromenian as evidence for the desperate situation Tevinter is now facing. Therefore, something must be done. Something drastic. He presents, to the gathered onlookers, the Salvatio Initiative. Basically, all unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are to be given to Tevinter’s legions, where Laskaris and the Legates serving under him will perform blood magic rituals to turn them into mindless but ravaging soldiers against the Antaam. Dangerous cannon fodder essentially. He will use tonight’s demonstration to convince the gathered members of the Magisterium to pass a law that will officially permit Tevinter’s legions to use blood magic. Well, we know, Tevinter has always used blood magic behind closed doors, but this will mean that all safety measures are off, all precautions, all careful attempts at hiding it. And the worst part is: since slaves are considered nothing but tools, it won’t even be seen as unethical by the large portion of conservative Senate members. And prisoners of war? Qunari? Who cares about them anyway, right? This is the darkness and true corruption permeating Tevinter. This is exactly why the Shadow Dragons exist to bring back the light.

Several doors open and Laskaris directs all slaves and prisoners to be brought forth.  They are all wearing the blood collars. Upon the Imperator’s command, him and several blood mages under his leadership, activate the blood collars and turn the slaves and prisoners into an absolute frenzy. A battle erupts in which the sheer destructive power of the now-mindless fighters is demonstrated.

Mercar now has a choice to make, and it is the biggest one there is in the prologue:

Do we stealthily fight the blood mages and try to rescue the innocent mind-controlled people without blowing our cover? You do, however, risk your father dying.

Do we rush in headfirst and fight Laskaris head-on, saving your father but maybe dooming more innocents and risking exposure?

Do we put our personal emotional interest above the greater good or vice versa? Well, because we broke our father’s collar earlier, we can at least assume that he’s going to be able to fight for himself with a clear head, so let’s focus on the blood mages in a stealthy manner.

Neve and Tarquin quickly take us behind the scenes as the crowd watchers in apt interest. There are five blood mages, including Laskaris, who need to be dealt with. Neve takes one half, Tarquin the other, while you have a go at Laskaris himself. You are masked so he won’t know it’s you.

While Neve and Tarquin successfully dismantle two blood mages each, we sneak right up to Laskaris and try to either knock him out or backstab him altogether. This results in the same outcome but tells a lot about Mercar’s personality. Do we kill this guy and end it now? Or do we try and incapacitate him so that he can still be of use for the future?

Regardless, Laskaris sees it coming and engages in a boss battle against us. It’s a tough battle, one that we are logically meant to lose. If we get Laskaris down to 0HP, miraculously so unless we play on Storyteller mode, the cutscene will slightly change but the outcome remains largely the same.

Laskaris lashes out and wounds us, causing us to fall down, bleeding, losing our mask, exposing ourselves to Laskaris, while the slaves and prisoners stage a mad revolt around us, forcing the gathered magisters to flee the scene. But because we freed our father from his collar, he comes rushing in to save us, engaging Laskaris in a one-on-one duel. Despite “only” being Soporati, he puts up quite a fight with his huge two-hander. We want to help him, desperately so, but we are just too weak. Laskaris is impressed by Charon’s strength, but ultimately, deals him a mortal wound. Just before Laskaris turns to finish us off, he is struck in the shoulder by…Bianca!

Varric steps into the fray and fires off a row of bolts against the Imperator, allowing Neve and Tarquin to take us away as we pass out. As they do so, the Viper appears and casts a spell that shrouds the whole arena in fog.

Back at the Shadow Lair

We awaken in the Shadow Lair and are greeted by Varric. It turns out that he was using this whole mission to assess us from the background, to determine if we are the one he’s looking for. And he decides that, yes, we are. Laskaris, the Venatori, all of this is just one puzzle piece of something much greater. We can press Varric on what this could possibly be, but he won't tell us just yet. Instead, he tells us that we should disappear. And he might just be able to help with that. We can be incredibly outrageous about this. I just discovered the biggest plot to endanger slaves ever since the Magister Sidereal tore open the Veil to reach the Golden City! I can’t just leave right now to pursue something I don't even know about!

At this point, Maevaris joins us and agrees that Mercar has to disappear for a while, now that Laskaris knows who we are. We can’t be seen with the Shadow Dragons for the time being. Doing so would just endanger the whole cause.

Reluctantly or readily, that depends on our personality, we concede that there is sense in Varric’s words. Varric advises us to adopt a codename as well, like so many agents of the Inquisition did back in the day. Mercar thinks for a moment, reflects on the most recent events, and decides on “Rook”. Varric approves. “The strongest piece on the chessboard, I like it.”

Afterwards we get a final chance to talk to the members of the Shadow Dragons before we depart, and get a last look at the Undercity. Neve returns to Dock Town to keep an eye on Laskaris and the slave rings, as well as search for any Venatori ties.

What follows is a cutscene where Rook and Varric depart the Shadow Lair and leave Minrathous altogether. One last time, Rook looks at the city he swore to fight for, then turns around and follows Varric into the unknown.

And that’s as far as we’ll go today! I hope you enjoyed my little hypothetical take on a potential Shadow Dragon origin mission. Of course, not everything is refined and perfect, but I hope you still got the overall gist of what I was going for! Next time, we shall focus on a potential prologue for the Grey Wardens! Stay tuned!

Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens

[suugarbabe]

Hi I was wondering if you could possible do one where Theo and Enzo have begged the reader all week to help them study for their owls but she has refused saying it’s their fault for not taking their classes seriously, so they sneak in her room looking for her notes and instead find a box with dirty romance novels and her toys?

You can choose how the ending goes, smut or no smut whatever your comfortable with, thank you ❤️

thanks for the request lovie! (sorry it took so long) 18 + MDNI

The two Slytherin boys were doing their best at what they considered whispering as Theo quietly mumbled the spells to unlock your door. "I swear to Godric, Theo, if she catches us I'm hanging your arse off the astronomy tower." Enzo was grumbling through his teeth as he peeked his head into your room, glancing around and making sure the room was as empty as Theo guaranteed him it would be.

"Don't be a pussy, Berkshire. Just find the notes so we can duplicate them and get out of here." Theo walked toward your desk, starting to shuffle through the parchments on top. He pointed Enzo toward your bookshelf, telling him to 'make himself useful and help him look'. Enzo grumbled, picking through your books and the different pages stuffed into random textbooks.

Theo moved on to the draws of your desk, essentially emptying the contents of each as Enzo moved around the room, trying to at least look like he's being helpful. Which is how he found himself lazily sitting on the edge of your bed and digging through the drawers of your nightstand. He found the top drawer very boring, but different vitamin and glamor potions, your sleep mask and most other miscellaneous items.

Opening the drawer underneath it had him pausing. In this drawer there was a box and a small stack of books whose covers looked a little...steamy. "Uh, Theo...you might want to come look at this." Enzo took the box from the drawer, setting it atop your bed before grabbing the stack of books and spreading them out. "What is it, Enz, did you find the notes?"

Theo walked over, eyes growing wide and a smirk growing on his face as he took in the books Enzo had laid out. Each cover had a different couple on them, and on each cover the male had his mouth on some part of the woman while her head was thrown back, mouth agape clearly in pleasure. Theo picked one of the books up, flipping open to a random page and started to read out loud.

"His hands ghosted down her sides, fingertips teasing her skin as goosebumps rose in their wake. 'You look so perfect like this, laid out and bare, just for me.' His hand dipped between her legs, a finger gliding through her heat and gathering the wetness that pooled there. Brining his finger to his mouth, he sucked it cleaned, moaning as he did so. 'Oh, darling, I'm going to devour you.'" Theo let out a school girl giggle, "Our little y/n/n is reading porn. What a dirty fucking bird, you think she wacks off to this stuff?"

Theo held the book up, finger still holding the place of the page he was just reading. Enzo scrunched his nose, "Do girls wack off?" Theo rolled his eyes, "I mean, whatever it is they do to get off on their own. What's in here, hmm?" Theo flicked the top of the box off and on to the bed. At this, both his and Enzo's mouth's fell open in slight shock.

Inside the box were your private things. Enzo grabbed hold of a silicone toy, it was about four inches, the end larger and rounder than near the handle, with an extra bit hanging from the top, "What the bloody hell do you think this does?" Theo couldn't help the smirk gracing his face. "Enzo, my boy, that," he pointed his finger at the object in Enzo's hand, "and those," he pointed towards the box that held a few more items, "are how she wacks off."

Enzo's eyes grew wide, looking from the object in his hand, to the others in the box. "You mean this goes," Enzo made a swooping motion with his hand, his eyebrows shooting up. "Yes, Enzie, that goes inside of me. And it vibrates too," you flicked your wand in the doorway, the object in Enzo's hand giving off a low hum, causing him to drop it immediately. Theo's mouth immediately began moving, trying to explain himself and his friend.

"Y/n/n, we're sorry we were just-, and then we found-, you see, it was an accident," Theo's face wore an uncomfortable smile that he was trying to pass off an innocence. You walked slowly further into the room, not breaking your gaze as you picked up your toy from the bed and placed it back inside the box. Both Enzo and Theo had yet to move, watching your movements meticulously, essentially awaiting some sort of hex for digging in to your personal belongings.

You gathered the remaining books on your bed, stacking them back in the drawer Enzo had taken them from. Turning round you faced Theo, quickly grabbing the book from his hand. You held it open, eyes scanning the page. You shut the book abruptly, both boys jumping slightly at the action. A devilish smirk adorned your face as nervousness spread throughout the boys. "So, which page did you want to do?" Theo's eyes widen, glancing at Enzo then back to you, "W-what?"

Slowly, you began unbuttoning your blouse, "I said," you pulled your blouse off your shoulders, letting it slide down your arms, "which page...do you want to do." You slid your skirt down your legs, leaving you clad in just your bra and panties. Enzo's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Oh don't be shy now boys, you were so curious just a moment ago."

Theo grabbed the book from your hands, flipping through the pages before stopping. He turned the book in his hands, pointing to a page. You leaned down, scanning it quickly before giving him a quick wink, "Cheeky." You climbed on to the bed, getting on to your knees as you faced them both. Slowly, you reached up behind you, unclasping your bra and letting it fall down your arms before tossing it to the floor.

Their eyes only grew wider. "Bloody fucking hell," Enzo's mouth felt completely dry while Theo's eyes never left your chest. You laid down on your back, sliding your panties down your legs. "Are you guys going to join me, or are you just going to watch? Personally, I'm fine with either." You let out a shaky breath as you dragged a hand down your chest, dipping it between your legs.

As you spread your legs wider, slowly dragging your finger through your wetness. You let out a gasp, being slightly more exaggerate than need be. In an instant both boys were ripping off their clothing, Theo nearly tripping trying to get out of his trousers. Enzo got to your first, his mouth leaving hot and sloppy kisses across your chest. You ran your hand along his abs, groaning at the feeling of the divets and muscles before wrapping your hand around his hardening cock, giving him a few strokes.

"Fucking hell, Angel," he mumbles against your chest, tongue swirling around your hard nipples and Theo settled between your legs. "Oh, dolcezza...such a pretty little cunt, hmm?" You glanced down at Theo just as he flattened his tongue, taking a long lick between your folds before delving his tongue into your hole. "Oh my fuck, Teddy," your hand shot to his head, fingers tangling in his soft brown locks.

Enzo's lips were on your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and leaving harsh bruises. His breath was hot on your skin as he whispered in your ear, "Gonna have to stuff your mouth full, Angel. Don't wanna hear a name fall from your lips unless it's mine." You groaned, hips bucking as Theo sunk two fingers into you, his lips attaching themselves to your clit.

Enzo got on his knees, tapping your cheek with an open palm. Turning your head you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. Enzo tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue before sliding his dick into your mouth. You did your best to relax your throat, trying to fit as much of him in your mouth as possible. "Merlin, Angel, it's like your throat was made from my cock." You tore your hand from Theo's hair to wrap it around Enzo, pumping what wouldn't fit in your mouth.

Theo separated himself from your cunt with a lewd sucking sound, kissing the insides of your thighs before sitting up, giving himself a few good pumps. "Think you're ready for me, dolcezza? Want us to fill you up at both ends?" You gave a slight nod, the best you could with Enzo pumping his cock in and out of your mouth.

Theo braced himself with your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh and spreading your legs wide open. He pushed the tip of his cock through your folds, a low groan escaping his lips as he sank deeper and deeper into your cunt. "Fanculo a me," Theo threw his head back as a series of Italian curses left his throat. Each thrust of his hips caused a fire to stir in your belly, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot with a delicious rhythm.

Each thrust also had you jolting slightly, causing you to deepthroat Enzo's cock. "Fucking hell, mate, keep that pace on her and I'm gonna fill this pretty little mouth," Enzo brush a thumb along your bulging cheek as a moan rippled through your throat. The vibrations against him causing his fingers to tangle through your hair like a vice. "You close, Angel?" Enzo spoke in breathy moans. He was close if the twitch of his cock against your tongue was any indicator.

"Oh she's close, mate. Pussy's got a vice grip on my fucking cock, isn't that right, dolcezza?" Theo's thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles, the fire in your belly getting tighter and tighter. The best response you could give was a moan around Enzo. "Fuck, c'mon, Angel, let go for us, then we'll fill you up. You can do it, go 'head."

It was like his permission was all your body needed, the rubber band snapping as your orgasm rushed over you. Enzo pulled himself from your mouth as a loud and near pornagraphic moan left your lips as Theo buried himself to the hilt, sheathing himself inside you as he spilled himself deep within your walls. He continued his assault on your clit, letting you ride out your high as he did his own.

Enzo gave his cock a few pumps before covering your tits in his release, his breaths short and rapid as he held onto your bedpost for stability. "Fucking Salazar, I don't know how that happened, but it was amazing," Enzo had a boyish grin on his face and you couldn't help but giggle. With a flick of his wand Theo cleaned the three of you up before settling down, his head laying on your stomach.

Enzo settled behind you, you leaning against his chest while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders. You played lightly with Theo's hair as he finally spoke up, "If I had known this would happen, I would've snuck into your room and dug through your stuff months ago, dolcezza." You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Next time though, you guys need to switch. I need to see what Berkshire's big mouth can do between my legs."

Both boys' heads snapped toward each other before glancing back to you, their question in perfect unison. "Next time?"

[chicagoandthetrenches]

No gloves - Keegan Russ x gn!reader

Reader is a Walker sibling. I tried my hardest to make sure it was gender neutral but a few things might have slipped through the cracks during editing - so sorry!

Warnings!!

descriptors of blood/gore, self-harm (please take care of yourself and don’t read if not in a good headspace), mentions of death (familial), slight stalking(? if you squint really hard)

Original character.ai prompt from @L3thal_Angel

*You where the quiet one of TF-141. Which, spoke Keegan’s curiosity. No one rarely saw you unless In the canteen, on missions etc. you always wore a half mask, covering your lower face.*

*One night, Keegan was walking through the halls when he heard punching from the training room. He peaked inside, seeing you absolutely destroying a punching bag with no gloves…*

*Jab, cross, right hook, left hook, repeat..*

*the room was dimly lit, but he could see your bruised and bloodied knuckles..*

please do not edit or reupload my work! 🫶🏻

You were the quiet one of the ghosts. Which, sparked Keegan’s curiosity, he was used to being the quiet one. No one really saw you unless In the canteen, on missions etc.

One night, Keegan was walking through the halls when he heard punching from the training room. He peaked inside, seeing you absolutely destroying a punching bag with no gloves…

Jab, cross, right hook, left hook, repeat..

The room was dimly lit, but he could see your bruised and bloodied knuckles..

Keegan, decided for a moment, to just watch the rest of your training. To just observe from the shadows and see exactly what you where capable of.

You continued to jab, cross, hook, repeat. In sync with each other, every motion was calculated, timed, and thrown with precision. As you continued to beat the bag, your intensity built. You picked up the pace, your hits becoming more precise and stronger.

Keegan was still watching you. Taking in each movement. Your determination, strength, and precision. All of your movements were like a machine… he couldn’t look away…

You threw a flurry of blows at the bag. A barrage of punches were thrown. Speed, power, accuracy, each punch delivered was strong and on target, never losing its intensity and strength.

As you threw a barrage of punches you finished it off with a power uppercut, your knuckles hitting the heavy bag and shaking the bag violently.

Your body went limp for a second, catching your breath. The heavy bag was swaying back and forth… covered in blood…

You took another moment to catch your breath…

“Enjoy watching me, Russ?” you said without turning around, taking time to inspect the damage to your hands.

He jumped slightly, as he realized you noticed him…

“I thought you’d never notice. I’ve been watching you train for about 5 mins now…”

“I know, I felt your eyes,” you hummed as he walked across the gym towards you.

He walked over to you, and looked at your knuckles.

“No gloves, no wraps… and to top it off, a heavy bag. You really are trying to destroy your fists, aren’t you?”

He looked back up at you, curious as to why you were doing this to your hands. A mixture of admiration and confusion could be seen on his face…

“I’ve wondered this for a while now… Why the hell do you never wear gloves…? Why do you beat up that damn bag so damn much? And why do you never stop when you feel the pain in your hands?…”

You chuckled lightly, “you ask a lot of questions.”

“I do… but only because I’m genuinely curious about you… I mean, you rarely talk… I know literally nothing about you besides your relationship to Hesh and Elias… you are the most quiet, calm, collected one out on missions besides me… but then I come here and find you beating up a bag like it owes you money…”

“And I know that can’t feel good, yet you always push through. I just can’t stop wondering ‘why?’…”

“The pain helps me focus,” you shrug.

“And does it ever get to the point where the pain actually makes you stop?”

“Not usually,” you shake your head, beginning to clean your bloodied hands.

“So you just train until your hands are just bloody and bruised?”

“Pretty much.”

He looked at your hands again, “They must hurt like hell, though?”

“I get used to it. I usually will swap out for the firing range while they heal.”

He took one last look at your hands before standing up straight, “You’re insane…”

You send him a soft smile, “yeah, I know.”

“And one last question…” he pauses, “What drives you to do this..? Is it a way to escape feelings of anger? Grief? Guilt?…”

You tilt your head slightly, “What drives you to do what you do?” You leave him pondering as you walk away.

”Good question…” He mumbles to himself as he watches you walk away.

He sighed to himself. Now he was even more curious to know more about you…

Your brother, Hesh, was one of the two besides Merrick who could read you like a book. But most of the time only Hesh could tell what you were thinking…

The next mission was a long and tiresome one. It took a mental and physical toll on all the members. It took every ounce of stamina, strength, and endurance to make it through this mission… yet you didn’t seem tired at all. You were just silent, as always. Keegan found you in the gym again, beating the bag until your hands bled.

This time he decided to come over and watch you closer. He wanted to know if beating the bag was the way to calm you, or to distract you. Something just drove him to seek out every piece of info about you…

He watched you for a few minutes… You were hitting the bag with everything you had. Power, precision, speed, and accuracy. Your knuckles kept smashing into the bag… slowly you could feel the pain, but you pushed through.

The blood from your hands kept dripping as your hands slowly started to crack, knuckles splitting open. You continued to go at it, showing no sign of weakness. You eventually had to take a breath as you took a small break. You took a second to lean on the bag, blood dripping on the floor…

Eventually you take a deep breath, and open your eyes. Your hands were drenched in blood. You looked down and inspected the damage, taking a moment to look at your knuckles, which were all bloody and bruised.

The pain began to slowly rise up, as you felt it in your hands and wrists. You closed your eyes tightly, ignoring it all for as long as possible, as blood dripped onto the floor.

“Keegan,” Your voice, almost a warning, you knew he was watching again. You heard him approach as you kept your eyes closed, focusing on the pain.

“You know I’m gonna watch… always do. Your hands look a lot more worse then usual though..”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you spoke, “yeah, they feel it too….”

Keegan walked a few steps closer, inspecting your hands.

“The pain helps you focus?” He asked, reiterating your earlier statement.

“Something like that… It just… helps me forget about the other stuff… forget about the emotions… forget about my thoughts…. It kind of… helps me relax in a way….”

“You have a lot on your mind?” he asks.

You just shrug, opening your eyes to finally look at the damage.

“And do you have any coping mechanisms, other than beating the ever living snot out of this bag?”

You softly laugh a little, “not really, other than annoying Hesh with my problems.”

“And is Hesh the only one who can really read you?”

You nodded, the small smile dropping off your face, “My dad could. Merrick tries but he gets frustrated unless it’s obvious what’s wrong.”

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to read you? Ever be able to get in your head?”

You shrugged, “Maybe if you try hard enough.”

“Challenge accepted.”

[jmagnabo92]

PW2024 - Day 6 - The Obvious Choice

@prongsfootweekarchive

Prompt - Everyone Assumes (that they're together)

Three times everyone assumes James and Sirius are together and the one time that they actually are together.

AO3

***

The one thing about James and Sirius’ friendship that neither of them have an issue with is boundaries.  Most people would say that it’s weird that they’re always so affectionate or that they share everything, but it doesn’t feel that way to them.

It’s normal.  It’s them.

They’re best mates.  

They don’t even think anything of their behavior until someone points it out to them when they assume that they’re together not just best mates.

***

The first time that happened was during seventh year:

James had finally gotten to the point where he thought that he could ask Lily out, and Sirius being the supportive best mate he is, encourages him.  

The encouragement prompts James to stop Lily while they’re outside the Portrait Hole after one of their heads shifts.  

“So, Lily, things have been better between us this year, yeah?” James asks, a lead-in seeing if she might be receptive.

Lily hums.  “Yes, you’ve grown up and chilled out and it has made it easier to be your friend.”

James smiles.  “Yeah, I really have changed since Sirius –”

“Became your boyfriend?” Lily asks, with a laugh.  “Nothing like love to mellow a bloke out.”

“What?” James asks.  

He’d meant that since Sirius had to run away, and he realized that the bubble he’s in was going to pop with a war out there sobering him up.   It’s part of why they both started focusing on preparing themselves for the war rather than pranking.  It was time to grow up.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t think anyone’s going to give you a hard time about it.  We’re all supportive and I think it’s super sweet –”

“I’m not dating Sirius, Lily,” James states, cutting her off.  

“You’re not?” Lily asks, looking confused.

“No, we’re not dating.  We’re just friends.  I was actually building up to asking you out just now.”

“Oh.”

It’s clearly not what she was expecting, and honestly, James is too thrown off to ask now.  “You really assumed we were together?”

Lily shrugs.  “Everyone does, honestly.”

James hums, clearly, they don’t understand what it means to be best mates.  

Oh well.

***

The second time it happened, Sirius and James were at a bar:

They were celebrating the end of the war.  The two of them and all of their friends from the Order were pleasantly tipsy and just enjoying the fact that they managed to survive. 

Eleven years was a long time to be at war.

Now, they were free.

It came at a cost, of course, but freedom always does.  

Still, after a few drinks, James encourages Sirius to go get lucky with a bloke at the bar that he’d been eyeing up, and with a quick shot, he tries to do just that.

It starts off well.

Sirius knows just how to make a man do what he wants.  So, he flirts and teases, and then, just when he’s about to get lucky…

Things go to hell. 

Someone else who had clearly been watching him and James at their party, stalks over to him and the bloke and throws a drink in his face.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Sirius demands wiping off his face on his shirt.  

“Cheating on your boyfriend right in front of him is absolutely disgusting, I was doing him and this man a favor,” the person says. 

“Boyfriend?  I don’t have a boyfriend,” he says, half to them and half to the man he’d been chatting up.

“Oh, yeah?  Well, then, what about that dark-haired man that’s been hanging all over you all night?”

“He’s my best mate – we’re just friends and he’s just affectionate.”  He turns to the bloke, who looks uneasy.  “I mean it, it really isn’t anything.”

The person that threw a drink in his face, scoffs and says, “Be smart, man.  You don’t want to get involved with that.”

Sirius glares at them.  “Why are you getting involved?  You don’t know me or James, so you should just run along now.”

The person roles their eyes and stalks away. 

Sirius takes a deep breath and turns back to the bloke.  

“Sorry, man.  You seem great, but they were right – I did notice that you were all over each other and if you’re not together, you probably should be and I’m not getting into that mess.”

The man takes his drink and walks away leaving a very disappointed Sirius behind.  

Guess he’s not getting lucky tonight.

***

The third time someone assumed they were together was after one of their double dates:  

James had thought that things were going well with his girlfriend.  Rose had been the first person that James had wanted to try with since Lily had assumed (and said no when corrected) that he and Sirius were together in seventh year.  After Lily, with the war going on, he and Sirius just figured that quick shags were better than long-term relationships. 

Since the war was over, they both had been trying to date more.  Sirius had his boyfriend and James had a girlfriend (even though they’re both bi). 

Since they lived together and loved hanging out together, there’s no reason that their partners shouldn’t understand that they need to love each other, too.

Hence the double date.

James thought it was going well.  He’s always happy to be spending time with Sirius and it seems like Rose and Jeff are getting along well, it was perfect.  

Until the end of the date.

He and Sirius were sharing a dessert since their dates didn’t want any and they share a look, before Jeff clears his throat.

“Listen, we like you both… a lot…”

“… but we really think that you two are clearly more into each other than you are into us…” Rose continues.

“That’s not true,” James attempts to reassure her, but his attempts are in vain.

“Look, if I were to walk in and not knowing anything about the four of us be asked who’s whose date, I’d say Rose and I, you and Sirius,” Jeff states, plainly.

“You’re way more into each other than us,” Rose offers.  “Bloody hell, the last date we had, you spent forty-five minutes talking about how proud you were that Sirius managed to fix up his motorbike and that you went on a ride down the coast and watched the sunset together.”

“That’s normal best mate stuff,” James tries, as Sirius looks at James and says, “Aw, Jay, you’re really that proud of me?”

“And there’s that,” Jeff offers.  “You’re looking at him like he said ‘I love you’ or something.  It’s just – it’s for the best that we save ourselves some heartbreak and end things now.”

Rose hums her agreement and they both stand.  “See you around.”

James should feel more upset, but he’s actually quite content.  He’d rather just hang out with Sirius anyway.  

He looks at Sirius, who shrugs and goes back to their dessert.  “Their loss.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

***

It didn’t take very long after that for James to realize and confess his feelings for Sirius and since everyone always assumes, neither of them thought that they needed to announce that they were together to their friends.  It’s not like much changed for them, so when they threw their annual New Year’s Eve party, they don’t think anything of being all over each other.

And they don’t think it’s anything that would even be noticed until James returns from getting them some drinks and plops himself in Sirius’ lap.  

“Thanks, Jay,” Sirius says, and kisses his cheek. 

James turns his head and kisses him on the lips.  It’s still a bit new, but he loves the way Sirius responds and would really love where this could go, but they’re interrupted by:

“What the fuck?  Now, you’re snogging?” Remus demands.  “Are you still going to say it’s ‘normal best mate stuff’?”

They reluctantly break apart.  

“Of course not, Remus,” Sirius states.

“Because we’re dating,” James explains.

There’s a beat where all they hear is the music for the party.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Peter yells.  

“Finally, you two got your heads out of your asses,” Lily agrees.  “What finally did it?”

James flushes as Sirius says, “We got dumped by our partners because we liked each other more.  Kinda seemed like maybe you all were onto something.”

“We definitely were,” Peter grins.  “I propose a shot to celebrate.”

James grins as shots appear thanks to his summoning of them.  “A toast – to the best boyfriend I ever should’ve had.”

Sirius smiles, raising his drink.  “Cheers!”

And with that… they rocked in the New Year as a couple for the first time of forever.

[supercap2319]

Could we maybe get more of Red, White and Royal Blue with Male Reader? 🥰

/N had been in England less than 24 hours, and he was already causing problems of epic proportions. And it started with Prince asshole. The young Prince had come into the guest wing kitchen where Y/N just happened to be, looking for something to snack on when he noticed the young prince in desperate need of Corvettes. Y/N briefly thought of denying the young man of his frozen treat just to be petty, but it was the first time he's seen the Prince with actual emotions and not one's fed to him by his advisers.

But that's not where things got interesting, no, it started when Y/N fled to the bathroom to escape the royal pain in the ass and his stupid Corvettes as he opened the door to find a shocking and disgusting sight before him. Alex Claremont Diaz in the bathtub, soap bubbles covering his naked form as the water his brown skin smooth and slick. Before Y/N could close the door and save himself the awkward conversation that would transpire, Prince Henry came walking into the bathroom and had his mouth open in shock.

"Bloody hell!" Alex opened his eyes and looked at them with earbuds in his ears, and he flushed red as Henry's royal suit.

"What the fuck?! Get out you nosy little perverts, or I'm going to slap you both silly." Y/N overcame his shock and rolled his eyes. "You stole that line from fucking Home Alone 2, Diaz."

"Get out. You perverts trying to get a free peepshow so you can wank off to it later on tonight?"

"I would never entertain such a displeasing thought of thinking about you in your birthday suit." Henry said.

"Yeah, Diaz. You're not hot in the slightest. That goes for you too, Prince asshole." Y/N said. The Prince looks at him. "No need to be snarky since it's obvious you're overcompensating for being short between the legs." Y/N wasn't sure who was more shocked. Himself or Alex. He stood there with his mouth open. Did the Prince just say that his dick was…

Alex burst out laughing as he raised a soap arm and pointed his finger at Y/N. "Damn. The stick in the mud just said your stick was on the short side." He laughed and even Henry cracked a smile as he got close to the tub, and they both laughed at him as Y/N was red in the face before he pushed forward and in a rage of embarrassment and anger; he pushed the prince into the bathtub with Alex.

Y/N was going to enjoy watching both of them soak in a tub together in utter humiliation, and he might even take a photo of this moment with the phone in his pajama pants pocket, that's when Prince Henry flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to try to keep himself balanced.

Y/N thought he'd won, but he didn't count on the Prince grabbing his wrists and using his falling speed to pull him forward as he got a mouth full of Alex's bath water, and he might have thrown up if it wasn't for that fact that Henry landed on top of Alex, and Y/N landed on top of Prince Henry. He could see the flexes of blue in his eyes and before there could be any bloodshed, the royal servants came and helped them all out into new and dry clothes.

[lunar-years]

How’s the arm?

Tentative footsteps patter over the hardwood floor, inching closer; but it’s Jamie’s voice that reaches him first: “How’s the arm?”

Roy immediately bristles, unable to stop his voice from rising several decibels as he snaps, “I’ve already told you half a fucking dozen times in the past hour, Jamie, it’s the exact fucking same as it was twenty minutes ago, and yes I’m fucking fine, and I’ll kindly remind you again that you fucking promised me you’d stop fucking asking—” he stops mid-sentence, registering what exactly Jamie said at the same time the man crosses into his line of vision, letting Roy spot the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He blinks, momentarily thrown. Arm?

Jamie shrugs, and even that small motion is somehow made exuberant under his determinedly bright demeanor. His face breaks into a gleeful smile, ear-to-ear, right pleased with himself. 

Fucking hell. Roy has no idea how the prick has managed to stay this damn cheerful all day, considering he’s spent the whole of it waiting on his temporarily useless, opposite-of-cheerful boyfriend hand and foot. Keeping him confined to the miserable prison of his living room sofa, flipping through the sport channels with a commendable level of steady enthusiasm—even though the best they’ve had on offer were the bloody table tennis Olympic trials that ended an hour again—and fretting, every single second of every blasted minute, over Roy and his knee. Whether the pillow under Roy’s knee is fluffed enough, and whether Roy's morning brew has gone cold and could do for urgent replacement, and whether Roy needs help getting to the toilet before he pisses down his own leg. Jamie’s there all right, for all of it, and he’s bloody relentless. 

Roy appreciates it. Truly, he does. It’s also driving him completely up the fucking wall, just a little. Two things can be true. 

Jamie keeps right on smiling. “What?” he says innocently, sitting down next to Roy and handing over his latest freshly-warmed mug of tea, “I’m not having you on, it was a real question. Since you’re going to be a bit out of commission on the really agile shit for a while and all,” here he nods sympathetically in the direction of Roy’s mangled up, patchworked knee, the frankensteinish surgery scar thankfully covered up by fresh dressings (also courtesy of Jamie) and tucked atop Keeley’s fluffiest pillow. “Sorry,” he continues in a stage-whisper, hands going up like Roy's a feral cat he's trying not to set off, “know you want me to pretend like this ain’t happening, and I’m trying, swear down! But, well. Me point is, so long as your arm’s still in working form...we can at least exchange handies!” He beams at him again with great pride, like mutual handjobs are the certifiable cure to Roy’s every ailment, and Jamie’s the dutiful nurse who gets to present the good news and administer the necessary dosage.

(And well, a wank’s a wank, so. Roy’s willing to give it a shot.)

Instead of saying that, he chucks the pillow behind his back at his boyfriend's head and rolls his eyes in Jamie's direction, faking a pout. “All you care about is my cock,” he accuses half-heartedly. 

“Yes, poor, hard-done Roy, with a dead sexy boyfriend who wants him for his body as much as his mind,” Jamie grins, leaning in to give him a kiss. With lips practically still brushing Roy’s own, he adds, gentler, “I also thought, um. It might help, you know? With what you were saying earlier. I’m really sorry I made you feel like that.” 

Roy brow furrows. He wades back amongst all the day's many horrors to figure out which one in particular Jamie could be referring to. It must’ve been the last time, when he was snapping at the pair of them to stop bloody asking about his knee all the time. You’re both making me feel like a fucking pensioner. Then, to Jamie specifically, I’m not actually your fucking grandad, you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m two steps from the care home. It was around that time Keeley excused herself for a drive to the pharmacy, bristling at him with intense displeasure and that familiar get yourself together look in her eyes on her way out. Soon after, after an comfortable stretch of moody silence, Jamie muttered something about more tea, and disappeared into the kitchen for far longer than it took to whip up a new brew. 

So yeah, he owes them both an apology, clearly. Again.

He looks at his boyfriend, now aching with guilt on top of everything else, most pressingly the persistent sting that seems to extend his whole leg, making it very hard to focus on anything good, even his very good boyfriend. His very good boyfriend who’s only trying to help him. Fuck. 

Jamie’s still got his eyes locked on his, searching his face for reassurance. Hesitant, like he’s half expecting Roy to get angry and snap at him again for bringing it up. It’s so sincere it slices Roy smoothly in half.

“I,” he starts. Shuts his mouth. Starts again, “I’m sorry for that, babe. Look, I won't pretend I didn't mean some of it. I do feel…I dunno. Not even old, just…useless? I guess. But you’re not the one making me feel like that, it’s my own shit. I never should have said that to you, or to Keeley. I likehow you take care of me.” He threads his fingers through Jamie’s and gives them a squeeze. “It’s just…hard for me to let you.” He chokes over the last part a bit, from the clumsy embarrassment of his own feelings. Immediately redirects his gaze onto their locked palms.

But Jamie responds without hesitation, his shoulders already relaxing as he says briskly, “You’re forgiven.” Like it’s simple. Like Roy’s someone easy to forgive. Fuck, he still doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Jamie leans back, smile softer now, more natural. It takes on a cheeky edge as he adds, “And I know a way you can make it up to me, yeah?” with a wink and a crude hand gesture. Right back around to where they started.

Roy rolls his eyes again, filled with adoration for this ridiculous man. “We can’t fix everything with sex.” 

“We can make a brave go of trying, though," he offers solemnly, lips quirked.

Roy laughs despite himself, but it’s cut off by a sharp sting to his knee, making him wince before he can help it. His boyfriend’s face droops immediately. This time though, Jamie keeps his hands forcibly pinned to his sides, trying so hard not to hover, not to be too much. It makes Roy crack open even further. He really fucked this up.

“Can we wait for Keeley to get back first?” he suggests carefully, eyes meeting Jamie’s as his fingers brush circles on the back of his hand. “Ought to apologize to her, too.” 

“Definitely. Also, she’ll definitely enjoy this. Vulnerability really does it for her.” Jamie waggles his eyebrows playfully, seemingly resigned to brushing over the moment of tension, but Roy doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger for a second too long over Roy’s features, as if trying to catch the slightest grimace that could help him suss out Roy's pain level. Jamie needs him to be honest here; Roy forces himself to let him in. 

“I think I need my meds, first,” he admits. “Knee really fucking hurts. Got worse just now. And maybe, um…you could, with the pillow?” 

Jamie, perfect as he is, needs no further instruction. His hands fly towards the cushion, readjusting it carefully into a more supportive position. “Anything else, babe?” he asks as he fluffs, focus entirely on the pillow. 

“Jay.” 

His boyfriend’s head snaps up again, and Roy gestures him to slow down, and sit back. As soon as Jamie’s back’s against the sofa cushion again, Roy tosses his arm around him and tugs him in as close as possible. “I just want you,” he whispers. Then he lets himself shut his eyes and sink into the calm, knowing Jamie's got him. 

[glamoureddreamer]

The wonders of hell

Hazbin Hotel (Alastor and Vox)

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, death (kinda), they both might be a little OOC (please let me know if I’ve missed anything)

I was thinking about a part 2 because this was honestly supposed to end up way differently but still I hope you all enjoy and I hope you all have a great day! Remember to take care of yourselves!

Life in hell was- well hell.

Vox was having trouble adjusting from his human life to his demon life. He hasn’t met a person yet who’s even said hello to him, let alone try to help him.

Vox shudders holding his arms close to his chest in hopes to warm himself up. He was baffled that hell could be so cold.

It was the middle of the night and the moon casts a red glow upon the alley Vox walked down. He has been wandering for a few days and has completely lost hope of someone helping him. Vox knew at this point he just needed to help himself but he had no idea where to even start.

Tears well up in his eyes as he slides down a brick wall next to a dumpster, hugging his knees to provide a little comfort to himself. Vox was about to start crying, fully giving up his life when he saw a shadow walk down the alley.

Vox ignored them, he couldn’t find himself to care. For the most part, the other demons left him alone and ignored him, he didn’t see him as a threat.

Vox just stared at the ground, finding the bumps in the asphalt very interesting. The demon stopped in front of him, and a spark of hope lit up in his chest. Vox looked up at him about to ask if he could help him but the demon answered his question almost instantly with a kick to the stomach.

Vox yelps in pain, almost immediately trying to scramble away from the demon. However, he was cornered between a dumpster and the demon now.

The demon was quick to grab Vox’s shirt and slam the other back into the wall. It knocks the wind out of him, Vox gasps for air and once he’s successfully caught it he tries to escape the demon's hold.

The demon laughs and Vox swears he could have thrown up from the smell. He turns his head away, trying to kick his feet that were almost a foot off the ground.

“Pathetic.” The demon says before punching Vox in the face. There was a shattering sound and Vox could see the glass sticking out of the demon's fist just before it collided with his TV face again. The demon didn’t stop until Vox was limp in his hold, barely conscious and groaning in pain.

The demon drops him to the ground and kicks him one more time, Vox grunts and lies on the ground. He closes his eyes completely ready to die when the demon speaks up.

“Next time just submit and maybe you won’t get hurt.” The demon scoffs before walking away. Vox felt rage fill his body, it felt electric. He was furious. At himself, at the demon, at everything. He was not just going to lie down and take it, not anymore.

Vox opened his eyes and spotted what he could only imagine was once a part of his screen-like face. A piece of sharp glass. Vox reaches for it picking it up. It was bloody and he was sure it was his, but he didn’t care as long as it got the job done.

Vox weakly stood up, using the wall as his form of balance. He attempts to follow the demon but almost stumbles to the ground, once he regains his composure he limps after him. Thankfully he hasn’t left the alley yet and even better for Vox, he had his back turned.

In one quick moment, Vox raises his arm above his head and stabs the demon in the back. He quickly pulled it back out before the demon turned around.

The demon yells out in pain attempting to throw a punch at Vox but the tv demon dodges it. Once Vox had an opening to stab him again he did, and he did it again and again until the demon was on the ground not moving.

A pool of blood grew under the demon but still feeling the effects of his adrenaline rush and his anger, Vox drops to his knees stabbing the already dying demon. Once Vox thought for sure the demon was dead he threw the piece of glass and screamed.

Vox sits next to the body panting heavily while the sinner's blood soaks through his clothes. He was completely out of it as he watched the blood pool grow in size. He failed to hear someone approaching him until they spoke up.

“Hello, pal! My name is Alastor and excuse my curiosity but I heard all the commotion from the street.”

Vox jumps looking up at the demon. At first, he thought he was looking at satan himself what with all the red and the unsettlingly wide grin.

“I-I-..uhh..” Vox mumbles dumbly. Alastor tilts his head, seemingly waiting for him to answer.

“I don’t know what came over me...”

Alastor looks at him for a second longer with the same persistent smile before he laughs.

“Oh, dear friend. This is hell, do not worry about such a little matter. He will regenerate and then you can finish the job.”

“A little matter? Finish the job? Aren’t I in trouble for killing another demon? Are you Satan?” Vox’s line of questioning made Alastor burst out laughing. Once he calms down -seeing as the other wasn’t joking- he apologizes.

“You have a lot to learn dear friend but worry not I will help you. But first I’m starved, how about we talk over some lunch yes?” Alastor offers his hand out to help Vox up. The TV demon takes it with a smile and once he is up he nods, perhaps a little too quickly. Vox hasn’t had much to eat since he’s gotten to hell.

The radio demon smiles. “Excellent, I know a lovely town that has wonderful food! And perhaps while we are there we can fix you up as well.”

Vox smiles, however, he pauses. Alastor seemed uncharacteristically kind for a demon. It made Vox hesitate when he began to walk away.

“Wait-“ The demon stops and turns around, still wearing the same grin. Vox wondered if he ever stopped smiling.

“Why are you helping me? No one has been this kind to me...” Alastor sighs quietly before closing the distance between them.

“I heard the commotion and I can’t help but enjoy a good murder now and then.” A static noise filled the air around them and the eyes of the demon seemed to glow red.

“I wasn’t expecting to see much, you never do with sinners. However you showed promise, you can be more than a sinner.”

“Like what?” Vox asked out of curiosity. Alastor chuckles.

“I’ll answer all your questions on the way pal and forgive me for I never caught your name.”

“Vox, I’m Vox.” Alastor extends a hand and bows slightly as the other takes it and they shake hands.

“Well, Vox. Allow me to show you the wonders of hell.”

[blueraineshadows]

Heart Song Part Three

Leander Prewett x F!MC ❤️

As the concert draws nearer, feelings are building.

Duet song if you want to listen: Come What May from the movie Moulin Rouge.

Apparently, he had no self control. After insisting to Elizabeth that there was nothing going on between MC and himself, he had literally thrown himself on her at the first opportunity. MC had offered up her kindness, tried to comfort him, and he had taken advantage of her and kissed her.

To be honest, he was shaken that she hadn't pushed him off, in fact she had done the opposite.

MC had bloody well kissed him back!

He was sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, fighting against the urge to look up and seek MC out. He wanted to see her, and he would, in class, all day, and then they had to meet with Professor Florence to present their duet. But, he was also nervous about seeing her.

What was he going to say to her? How should he act? Would everyone be able to tell what they had done? Would Elizabeth? Gods, he had to be careful. After promising that he hadn't betrayed Elizabeth, he could not very well rub it in her face. He was going to have to maintain a distance with MC, and he thought this might very well kill him.

When he did chance a glance up around the Great Hall, it was Elizabeth he saw, walking towards the Ravenclaw table, a group of girlfriends surrounding her, and every one of them had a hard glare for him.

Clearly, he was the villain now, and he absolutely deserved it. Guilt stung at him when he saw Elizabeth's pale face and puffy eyes. He tried to convey his regret at her misery when she met his gaze, but her face tightened, and she turned away.

"Bloody hell, mate, what did you do?" Garreth asked. "Elizabeth looks seriously pissed off with you."

"I ended things between us," Leander said. He fiddled with his toast, not that hungry anymore.

Garreth lifted his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. "Oh, yeah, that would do it," he said. He gave Leander a look. "MC?"

Leander leant his forehead against his hand and groaned. "How'd you guess?"

Garreth chuckled. "Mate, if MC gave me those bedroom eyes, I would have literally jumped on her by now," he grinned. Then he tilted his head curiously. "Have you and MC...you know...done the ole beast with two backs?"

Leander gaped at his friend. "What?! No! Of course not."

Garreth pressed his lips together fighting his amusement, his eyes twinkling. "Not yet then, but soon," he taunted.

"Garreth, I've literally just ended it with Elizabeth, I can't very well start carrying on with someone else straight away, that's just cruel."

Garreth thought a moment, nodding, chewing on his eggs. "Hmm you've got a point," he said. Then his smirk turned sly. "Doesn't mean you can't be subtle though, right? Behind closed doors and all that." He gave Leander a nudge with his elbow.

Leander groaned again and rubbed his face with his hands. As if that thought hadn't already occurred to him, of course it had, and he had ample opportunity to get MC alone as well.

Not to mention how he had pressed himself up against her last night. So soft, so willing...Gods.

"I need to be careful, mate," he sighed. He pushed his toast away. "Right, I'm done here. I'll see you in class."

....*....

By lunch time, MC was a bundle of nervous energy. Between Elizabeth's cold glares and Leander's cool attitude towards her, she was beginning to feel a bit alienated. She couldn't help but give Leander long enquiring looks, the memory of his lips against hers a torment as he avoided her gaze.

She needed to speak him, ideally before this evening when they met with Professor Florence, but he was up and out of his seat at the end of each class, hurrying away. There was no catching him in corridors and he wasn't in the hall at lunch.

MC sat and picked at her food miserably, before giving up and heading for the music room instead. When the feelings were at the top and threatening to spill over, it was music that pulled her back. A quick session at the piano before afternoon class was in order.

The sounds of the violin reached her ears and she smiled at Amit as she entered. Rather than going straight to the piano, she went down into the lower levels of the classroom to take a seat. Amit was a very gifted musician and it was always a pleasure to listen to him. He finished his piece and she gave him a clap, making him blush before he gave her a little bow.

"Thank you," he said. He smiled. "How is your practice going? Group rehearsals start next week. I'm looking forward to it."

"I think we're ready. I need to work a bit more on my solo piece. That's the one I am most nervous about."

"I am confident you will be outstanding, MC," Amit said. He wiped down his strings and placed his violin in his case. He was a softly spoken, kind chap, and MC had grown rather fond of their little chats. "I'm off to grab some lunch. The room is all yours. I hope you have a lovely afternoon."

However, Herbology was just as awkward as their morning classes, and MC sighed, digging her trowel a little more viciously than needed into her patch of the flower bed. They were outside in the sunshine working in the walled garden.

"Trouble in paradise?" Sebastian murmured beside her. His eyes glanced across to where Elizabeth was glaring over at them. "I heard Prewett binned his bit of skirt off. That wasn't anything to do with you, was it?"

MC blushed. "No. I'm not sure Leander is even speaking to me today. I'm not sure what's going on," she said.

"Going to be a bit awkward singing with him if he isn't speaking to you," Sebastian said. He frowned and took the trowel out of her hand before she damaged the seedlings they were planting in. "Have you tried asking him what's going on?"

"He keeps avoiding me," she sighed. "We're supposed to have that meeting later about the duet. I'm not sure I even want to go now."

"Don't you dare pull out of that show, MC," he said. He gave her a fond smirk. "I'm looking forward to seeing you up there doing your thing. Look, Prewett just went inside, why don't you go and try catch a minute with him. I'll cover for you here."

MC put her hand on his forearm and squeezed, he always had her back. "Thanks," she said. Sighing, she got to her feet and headed for the greenhouses.

Leander was filling a tray up with seedling pots to take outside. He looked up as MC approached and when he realised they were alone, a blush coloured his cheeks. "Hello," he said, awkwardly.

"How are you?" She asked, carefully. "I was worried about you."

He met her gaze. "You were worried about me?" He looked puzzled. "I'm fine. Are you alright? I didn't mean to take advantage of your kindness. It wasn't very gentlemanly of me."

"You didn't take advantage..." She moved a little closer, reaching to gently take hold of his sleeve near the cuff.

Leander looked down at where she was touching him, his blush deepening. "MC, I can't..." He sounded almost pained.

Footsteps made them both look up, and Leander swore under his breath as Elizabeth halted in the doorway, her gaze furious as she stared at them. Leander pulled his arm out of MC's touch, but it was too late. Elizabeth turned on her heel and marched straight back out the way she had come.

"Oh, gods," Leander muttered. He immediately took off after her. "Elizabeth, wait!"

MC followed them, her heart in her mouth. Elizabeth was storming across the garden, Leander catching her up. When he caught hold of her arm, she immediately wrenched free of him. "Don't touch me," she hissed.

The other students were now pausing in their work, turning to see the commotion. MC paused, hovering just behind Leander. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," she said. "I promise it's not what you think."

Leander looked panicked, looking between her and Elizabeth. She wasn't going to tell the girl about last night, she wasn't that silly. But, she felt like she needed to do or say something to try and help.

"Oh, and what do I think, hmm?" Elizabeth bit out. She glared at MC. "It wouldn't be that you have been waiting to get your greedy little claws into him, would it? Maybe you already have."

Her eyes narrowed and both MC and Leander flushed a brilliant red, Leander shifting awkwardly. Elizabeth gasped. "You have!"

A cry of distress burst from Elizabeth's mouth, and then her wand was in her hand. She aimed and cast quickly, hitting MC with a stunning spell that sent her flying back onto the grass, robes and hair flying outwards.

MC's stomach had dipped at the launch, and she heard Leander cry out Elizabeth's name in shock as she hit the ground with a grunt. Surprised as MC was, she was well versed in fighting, and rolled quickly up onto her feet. As she pulled her wand out, she felt the reassuring presence of Sebastian at her side. He had his wand out too, his eyes narrowed.

Students were beginning to gather at the excitement and Professor Garlick was threading her way through the throng. "My goodness, what is going on here?" She called out.

Elizabeth was breathing hard, her mouth twisted in disgust as she held her wand up towards Sebastian and MC. "Look at you, the little slut and her pet snake," she spat.

"Watch your mouth," Sebastian warned. His body relaxed into a duelling pose, his eyes dark.

MC flinched at the insult, not entirely sure it was warranted, even if she had been fantasising about being with Leander. She hadn't acted on it, not really.

Leander took hold of Elizabeth's arm. "Stop this!" He begged. "MC has done nothing wrong. If you want to be mad, be mad at me."

"Oh, don't worry, I am," she said, her voice cracking. "How could you?" She rasped, tears flooding her eyes.

Leander let her go, his face flooded with guilt. He glanced at MC, and she felt her heart squeeze. No wonder he had been avoiding her.

Professor Garlick came to stand in between them, her gaze very disappointed. "I'm afraid that's a detention, Elizabeth, for striking a student during my class," she said, shaking her head. "As for the rest of you, lower your wands, and let's have an end to this. I think we all just need to calm down."

MC lowered her wand and put her hand on Sebastian's arm, urging him to do the same. He gave her a look. "I hope Prewett is worth all of this, MC," he said. He shook his head, looking back towards Elizabeth as her friends gathered around her with soothing words and evil stares towards Leander. "What in Merlin's name did you do to cause all that?"

"I got too close to Leander," MC said. "We didn't cheat on her, Seb. He wouldn't do that."

"But he left her for you, right?"

"That's what I need to find out," she sighed. It was certainly beginning to look that way, and now the whole class suspected the same after that little showdown.

A smirk then curved Sebastian's lips as they knelt down near the flower bed. "So, I'm your pet snake, am I?"

MC rolled her eyes and grabbed a trowel. "Come on, let's get back to work."

As they did, MC looked over her shoulder to share a meaningful look with Leander. They really needed to talk.

....*....

There had been no chance for them to talk all afternoon, and now it was evening, and they were on the dais in the Great Hall. Professor Florence was standing mid way between the tables, waiting expectantly for them to begin again. She had organised a pianist for them so that all Leander and MC needed to do was sing their parts.

Leander could see the questions in MC's eyes, and he didn't know how to answer them. His feelings were all tied up in knots, his guilt, his worry, his desire...his depth of want for the girl standing beside him.

He nodded that he was ready, and the piano began to play. He had been nervous on the first sing through, and his voice shook to start with, but then he eased into it after a few more play throughs. The sound of her voice entwined with his was like a balm, and he thought that maybe they had done alright after the fourth try.

When they had finished, Professor Florence stood there looking at them, biting her lower lip. She nodded slowly, and Leander felt a sinking sensation. They hadn't done so well after all.

"Good, good, I can see you have worked hard," Professor Florence began. "However, think about the song you are singing. These two people are in love, desperately in love, and while it is important to project your voice to the audience, don't you think it would be more powerful if you sing to each other?"

Leander exchanged a look with MC and noted the pink tint to her cheeks, his own felt rather warm too, and he flicked his fingers together nervously. There was a whole lot of tension in the air, and he had been trying to avoid it all day. If he looked at her for too long he was worried his restraint might slip again.

"You need to be looking into each other's eyes, maybe even hold hands or something as the song builds," Professor Florence suggested. "Shall we give it a try?"

Students had begun to filter in to the hall, sitting or standing at the back, curiously watching on. He could see MC was starting to twist her hands with nerves and his own swirling chest was threatening to swamp him. He blew air through his lips, staring up at the enchanted ceiling.

Come on, Prewett, don't fuck this up!

He took a breath, turned to face MC, and he took hold of her hand, hoping to Merlin that his fingers weren't sweaty. As soon as they touched, his mind was sent back to the torch lit music room, her soft lips as he bent to kiss her, the soft press of her body as he backed her into the railing.

She smiled up at him, and heart thudding, he nodded that he was ready, his hand squeezing hers. The piano began to play...

Leander's eyes were closed for the intro as he focused, but they opened as he began to sing, and he sang for her. Their eyes were locked, nothing and nobody else existed. It was just him and MC.

Her lips parted, her pupils dilated, and her cheeks were flushed. Without even knowing they were doing it, they had moved closer, the fingers of their clasped hands linking tightly.

MC tilted her head back, and then she was singing too, the song building, filling the space with the sounds of their voices. He could feel the tension sliding out of him. It was going to be alright, they could do this. Her other hand lifted and rested just below his shoulder and his other hand had somehow found her waist. Their faces were inches apart as the song reached its climax, and then it was done.

There was a deafening silence and they both breathed in quick breaths, spent after pouring everything into those few minutes, their eyes still firmly locked on each other. His very skin tingled.

The sound of applause broke the spell, and they remembered that they were not alone. They turned to look at the gathered students, Professor Florence was hurrying forward, her hands flapping, her face one of wonder and delight.

"Oh my goodness!" She cried. She leapt up onto the dais and cupped both of their faces in turn. "That was unbelievable! So, so romantic and perfect! You are going to steal the whole show!"

Leander was almost dizzy from adrenaline, his fingers trembling, but MC had not let go of his hand, and she was holding on to it tightly, as if she never meant to let go.

....*....

It had felt like forever wrapping up the end of the practice run, and MC couldn't keep her eyes from Leander. Her heart was still thudding from that performance. Professor Florence's suggestion had worked, it had stolen her soul and thrown it out to Leander's mercy, but he had run with it, capturing her so completely it had made her tremble.

She needed to get him alone. She just needed a moment, that was all. Just to be with him in the silence, to solidify whatever had shaken the very floor beneath her feet up on that dais.

Finally, they were leaving the Great Hall, group rehearsals planned, details finalised. She grabbed Leander's hand, he was not going to disappear on her again, and she led him outside into the cool night air.

They found a secluded spot and she turned to him, squeezing his hand. "Tell me you feel it too," she said, softly. Her eyes looked up at him in the soft darkness, the warm, delicate glow of the castle lights flowing from the windows. "Please say you do, or I think I might believe I'm going quite mad."

"You're not going mad," he said, shaking his head. He cupped her face, so gently, and she held her breath. "I feel it too."

Relief swept through her, and she released a shaky breath, closing her eyes, savouring the gentle sweep of his thumb on her cheek.

His kiss was soft, a gentle brush of lips, and it wasn't enough. She chased that kiss with one of her own until they were kissing deeply, their breaths quick and hot, her hands in his hair.

When he broke the kiss and lifted his head, she moved to grab the front of his robes. "Don't you dare run away from me again, Prewett," she demanded.

He huffed a laugh and pressed his forehead to hers. "I won't, I promise. I don't think I could, even if I should."

The smiles slipped from their faces at the reality of his words.

"I don't want to be cruel to Elizabeth, she doesn't deserve it," he said. "She thought we had betrayed her, but it was I who did that. I wanted you, I confess it willingly. It is why I had to leave her, even if you hadn't felt the same way."

"Even after she blasted me across the garden earlier?" She lifted a playful eyebrow, but brought her hand to his face, her thumb brushing against his lower lip as he cringed at the memory of the argument in the garden. "It's okay, I understand. We can be discreet for a while."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said. "I wish I didn’t have to hide how I feel because you don't deserve that from me either."

"If it's what we have to do, then so be it," she said. She stared into his lovely brown eyes. "Stop tearing yourself up, Leander. In my book, you're worth the wait."

There was that beautiful, heart stopping smile of his. She savoured it before pulling him in for another kiss.

To be continued... Part Four

[beckettj]

1 Year Repost: There's No Harm in Repeating (A CS oneshot)

It's been a year since I posted the oneshot I probably had the most fun writing so here it is again!

Summary: Killian Jones has lived in apartment 204 for a year and has never exchanged more than ‘hellos’ with Emma Swan in apartment 205. That is until a run-in with her son, Henry, results in the boy doing some unintentional matchmaking. For how else do you find out what a woman thinks of you, if not through her four-year-old son?

A Captain Swan as neighbors au featuring Captain Cobra moments.

Words: 4432

Read on AO3

A flask of coffee in hand, Killian Jones stepped out of his crappy apartment, into the just as crappy hallway, to the oh-so-familiar sweet sound of arguing travelling up the stairwell from the entrance hall below.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Emma? You have no right to stop me from seeing my own son!”

“Look at yourself, Neal! You can barely stand! You’re hardly in any fit state to look after yourself, let alone a four-year-old boy!”

Emma Swan. The irritation was clear in her voice, as it travelled up the pungent staircase that Killian started to take down, yet it was her voice which reminded him of the single reason why he hadn’t moved the hell out of the crappy apartment building at any point in the last year. Even when shouting, screaming at her dickhead of an ex with all her might, her voice was as captivating as a siren’s song, drawing him in as the rest of the world fell away around him.

“Every fucking time, Emma! There’s always something with you, isn’t there? You can never just hand him over without causing a scene.”

“Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that you are never able to turn up sober. You need help, Neal.”

“Leave off! I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’d almost believe you, if it weren’t for the slurring.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe this! No, in fact, I can! I can totally believe this! This is textbook you, Neal! You get his hopes up and then you let him down.”

“Let him down? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and utterly shit-faced, you damn asshole.”

Killian chuckled to himself, having heard enough of their arguments through the building's thin walls to be invested enough to back Emma over her alcoholic ex. He’d also overheard enough to know that when Emma resorted to cursing, she was well and truly pissed. 

Commotions were a frequent occurrence in the apartment complex. Day or night, the residents just did not care. Killian had quickly learned that the best way to cope with it all, was to just treat the whole thing like a soap drama; it was almost more compelling than the ones on television. It wasn’t just Emma and Neal; there was enough drama in the building for him to develop his own soap drama television show if he wanted. If it wasn’t Emma, his lovely neighbor in apartment 205, arguing with her ex, it was the guy in apartment 101 making direct complaints over noise levels, someone accusing the pickpocket in 219 of theft, the guy in 117 finding a megaphone through which to broadcast his crazed ramblings that no one could make any sense of, or the young man in 301 hosting his midnight raves which attracted all the youth in the city like the bloody Pied Piper.

Yes, life in Enchanted View apartments was just charming. And extremely entertaining, in a guilty pleasure kind of way.

The arguing continued as Killian made his way down the stairs, obscenities and insults getting thrown back and forth as Emma went for it in giving Neal a piece of her mind. Killian had to hold back a cheer of satisfaction that she was finally doing such a thing; making himself realize just how invested he had gotten. 

He stayed quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He hoped to get by unnoticed, to slip out onto the street, and go about his day, leaving them to their dispute. It was only when he reached the bottom step that he determined such a feat to be impossible for Emma Swan stood in the building doorway, blocking his way. Or rather, preventing her tool of an ex-boyfriend from gaining entry to the building. Neal was bladdered; completely and utterly bladdered. Killian had known, from his slurred words, that he was drunk, but the man stood before Emma was well and truly hammered, incapable of standing still, staggering around the doorstep. His movements were slow and shaky, resulting in any attempt he made to get past Emma looking weak and pathetic. The only danger there was of Neal getting over the threshold were if he were to fall flat on his face. Killian chuckled lightly to himself, amused by such a scenario playing out in his head.

“I promised I’d take him bowling so I’m damn well going to take him bowling.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you chose to go heavy on the booze for breakfast. It’s not happening, Neal.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til I see him. Where the hell is he? Henry! Henry!”

“Cut it out, Neal. You really don’t want him to see you like this.”

“Oh, lighten up, Emma.”

Killian moved off the bottom step, with the plan to slip out through the back door which led into the side alley. Yet, as he began said plan, his eyes fell on the very boy at the core of the adults’ argument. Henry. The four-year-old sat patiently on the bench, positioned opposite the out-of-order elevator, a book open in his hands. Peter Pan, Killian read from the cover. Henry’s head was buried in the book, avidly inspecting the colourful pictures within it but, every now and then, whenever his parents’ voices rose or his name came up, the boy’s head would shoot out of the book, sending an apprehensive glance towards the doorway in which his equally unrelenting parents stood.

Killian thought back to his own childhood, to all the times his mother argued with his drunk father. He recalled how much he hated it, how he always found a way to blame himself for their arguing, and how useless he had felt every time; the urge to help his mother conflicting with the fear of how his father may react if he did. Killian couldn’t help but see himself in Henry but with one key difference; Liam had been there for Killian, right by his side, throughout every argument. Henry had no one, an only child, sat alone on the bench, just a book for company.

Killian wondered over to the young boy, taking up the empty space on the bench beside him.

“What have you got there, lad?” Killian asked, nodding to the book in Henry’s hands.

“A book,” the four-year-old responded with the obvious.

Killian chuckled to himself; ask a stupid question.

“That a good book?” Killian tried again, determined to strike up conversation to distract the lad from the scene behind him.

The boy shrugged, lacking enthusiasm, “It’s okay.”

Henry’s head turned to the entrance again, just in time to see his father attempt to force Emma’s arm out of the way, only to stumble backwards and fall into a pillar.

“Do you want me to help you read it?” Killian offered, successfully drawing the boy’s attention back onto him.

“That’s okay, thank you,” Henry politely declined his offer. “I look at the pictures and make up my own story.”

“Do you now?” Killian replied. “Care to tell me one?”

Henry smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically. He pointed to the picture in his book, a crocodile circling the waters around the Jolly Roger.

“Once upon a time, Peter Pan took a girl called Wendy to a place called Neverland and they flied there but actually, properly flied, not on an aeroplane, with, like, magic and stuff, and it was an island but there were no animals on the island and Wendy was sad because she loves animals,” Henry began to tell his story.

“Oh, why were there no animals?” Killian asked.

“They went in the water with the crocodile,” Henry answered.

Killian wasn’t quite sure what the four-year-old was implying with that statement.

“So, they all went to live in the water with the croc?” Killian checked.

“No!” Henry protested, looking at him like he was stupid. “The crocodile ate them all up!”

“Well, that’s not very kind,” Killian responded.

“Duh, he’s the bad guy,” Henry said.

Killian laughed; that told him.

“Good point,” he conceded.

“Are you going to let me tell the rest of the story?” Henry asked pointedly.

“Sorry, lad, sure, go ahead,” Killian encouraged.

“There was also a very, very, very bad guy on the island and his name was Captain Hook! He was a pirate who got everyone’s treasure and didn’t like Peter Pan or Wendy,” Henry continued, putting a great level of emphasis on certain words. “Peter Pan and Wendy didn’t like Captain Hook because he was naughty and didn’t have kind hands or kind words so they went to fight him. With swords! And a tyrannosaurus rex! And a dragon! But Captain Hook was really stronger and a gooder fighter and he pushed the tyrannosaurus rex and the dragon and Peter Pan and Wendy into the water and the crocodile ate them all up!”

Henry grinned, looking really proud of himself for coming up with such an exciting story. Killian raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t the good guys supposed to win?” Killian asked.

“But that’s boring!” Henry defended his story.

“True,” Killian conceded with a chuckle. “And I must admit, it was a twist I didn’t see coming. You’re quite the storyteller, lad.”

Henry beamed at him, completely distracted from the argument raging on behind him.

“That’s what I want to do when I’m bigger!” Henry spoke enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on the bench. “I want to be a story maker!”

“I’m sure you’ll make a fine story maker,” Killian encouraged, smiling at the boy.

“I’m going to make stories about castles and princes and princesses and space and pirates and dragons and dinosaurs!” Henry told him eagerly, speaking at a hundred miles per hour.

“Wow, that’s a lot of stories,” Killian remarked.

“My favorite dinosaur is the tyrannosaurus rex,” Henry segued slightly, once again impressing Killian with his pronunciation.

“Good choice, lad. Those are the big ones,” Killian replied.

“But they’re all extinct now,” Henry spoke matter-of-factly.

“That’s a big word you’ve used there,” Killian commented as the four-year-old continued to impress him with his vocabulary. “Do you know what it means?”

“It means they’re all gone,” Henry answered confidently. “They died and turned into fossils which is good because if they weren’t died they would eat us all up!”

“You’re just full of knowledge, aren’t you?” Killian mused.

Henry grinned at him, seemingly appreciating the compliment. Killian was just happy to have lifted his spirits slightly, even if it was only temporary. The commotion in the doorway was bound to end eventually and he couldn’t pretend to know how things would proceed from there. In the meantime, Killian was more than happy to keep the lad company; it was far better than the boy sitting on his own, listening to every word his parents exchanged.

“My name’s Killian, by the way,” he introduced himself.

He had seen the boy around the apartment building on multiple occasions. They had even nearly bumped into each other several times; the energetic boy didn’t have the best spatial awareness. They had smiled at each other, waved on occasion, and Killian had exchanged the odd ‘hello’ with his mother, but no official introductions had ever been made. Killian suddenly realized that his conversation with the boy meant that he had had more interaction with young Henry than with the boy’s mother. As good company as the boy provided, something had gone seriously wrong with that one.

“I’m Henry,” the boy introduced himself in return.

Little did the four-year-old know that Killian already knew his name. The apartment walls weren’t exactly thick, and Henry wasn’t quite as well behaved behind closed doors as he was when out in public. There were a few times each week where Emma got forced into resorting to shouting her son’s name to get him to listen to her.

“Nice to meet you, Henry,” Killian smiled at him.

The boy smiled back in return and Killian took a pause from the conversation to take a swig of his coffee whilst thinking of the next question to ask to continue his distraction attempts.

Henry spoke up first, “My mommy says fucking hell.”

Killian spluttered and choked on his coffee as it went down the wrong hole. He promptly recovered and looked at the boy beside him who was looking up at him with such sweet, innocent hazel eyes. There was no way, Killian decided, that such a young boy had said what he thought he had just heard.

“Sorry, kid, I missed that one,” Killian told him.

Henry replied, assured and matter of fact in what he was saying, “My mommy says fucking hell.”

Bloody fucking hell. Killian was out of his depth the second he had struck up a conversation with the boy, let alone when he found himself having to deal with a four-year-old cursing.

“I don’t think you should be repea-”

“That’s what my mommy says to my daddy.”

Killian couldn’t help himself and let out a loud laugh. He glanced at Neal and took in the man’s inebriated state; the way he staggered as he tried, and failed, again, to force his way past Emma who stood strong in the doorway, continuing to refuse to relinquish her position. A series of slurred insults poured out of Neal’s mouth, all directed at Emma and none of them harbouring even a slither of truth.

Killian turned back to Henry, his own chain of choice words coming to mind when he thought of Neal.

“Honestly, lad, I don’t blame her,” Killian remarked.

Henry glanced down at his book and absent-mindedly flicked through a couple of pages, barely glancing at the pictures. Killian took the momentary pause in conversation as another chance to take a swig of his coffee.

“Killian?” Henry spoke up again.

“What’s up, lad?” Killian returned.

“Are you going to have a sleepover with mommy?” Henry shot a random question at him.

Killian frowned, wondering where the boy could have possibly gotten that question from, before answering, “Not that I know of.”

“Oh,” Henry’s shoulders slumped, radiating disappointment.

“What makes you ask?” Killian questioned curiously.

Henry sat up straighter and set his book down on the bench. He turned back to Killian, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Once upon a time, I had a scary nightmare at night-time and it was really, really, really late because it was really, really black out my window,” Henry delved into what Killian feared for a moment was going to be another story ending with everyone getting eaten up, rather than an answer to his question. “And because I was scared, I wanted my mommy and I found her in the living room and she was drinking wine!”

“Did she drink it all up?” Killian asked.

“She drank loads of it. Mommy says wine is really nice but I don’t know because she won’t let me try because I’m not big enough. She says it’s a grown-up drink,” Henry said, instantly making Killian regret asking, distracting the boy from the original point. “Mommy says too much wine make you silly like Daddy, and not in a good way like a clown, but she said she needs wine sometimes to deal with Daddy. She says Daddy drives her round the bend.”

Killian laughed and made a mental note to watch every single thing he said around the boy, picking up on his habit to repeat things he heard. He guided the lad back to the original point, “What were you saying about a sleepover?”

“Oh, yes!” Henry grinned at the reminder. “Mommy was drinking wine with her friend Mary Margaret and I heard Mommy say that she wanted the man next door in her bed. That’s you.”

Killian knew it was him before Henry had even pointed it out to him, given the resident in apartment 206 was a woman. He smiled to himself and looked knowingly across at Emma. She still had her back to him, too caught up in dealing with Neal and was probably totally oblivious to his presence there. She wasn’t, however, oblivious to his presence in the apartment next door; her kid had just made that much clear to him.

She may have been drunk at the time of Henry’s earwigging, but drunk meant free of inhibition which meant there had to be some level of truth to her words. It had been a year since he had moved in, and it was the first hint he had ever received that she was at all interested in him. With nothing but passing exchanges of ‘hellos’, Killian had assumed otherwise but, after talking to Henry, he put the pieces together, realizing that she was essentially a single mother, single-handedly bringing up a four-year-old with a pathetic excuse for a father, which undoubtedly left little room for dating. If he wanted to be more than neighbors exchanging the odd polite hello, he was going to have to make the first move and, armed with the knowledge Henry had given him, he was suddenly extremely eager to do so.

If only Neal would give up already. The man was still arguing his case to Emma.

“So?” Henry spoke up, forcing Killian to take his eyes off Emma and return them to her son. “Are you going to have a sleepover?”

“We’ll see,” Killian responded, trying to be as careful as he could with his choice of words.

‘Killian wants to have a sleepover with you’ coming out of Henry’s mouth was not the way he wanted to approach asking Emma out.

“Are you going to be my new daddy?”

Killian was so glad he wasn’t drinking his coffee in that moment for he would have choked on it again. He stared at the kid, unsure if he really wanted to find out where that question had come from and yet, he was curious.

He couldn’t help himself, “What makes you ask that?”

“When Mommy said that she wanted you in her bed, Mary Margaret said that you would make a better daddy for me than my daddy,” Henry recalled then sighed, dropping his head and inspecting his shoes. “My daddy’s rubbish. He never does anything he says he’s going to do.”

Killian made a mental note to thank Mary Margaret, if he ever met her, for dropping him in it with that one.

“Your daddy’s not rubbish, Henry,” Killian reluctantly forced the words out. “He just needs… a bit of help.”

A lot of help. And Neal needed to accept that fact too.

Henry frowned, looking slightly disappointed, “So… you’re not going to be my new daddy?”

“You’ve already got a daddy, Henry. And maybe, if he gets that little bit of help, he’ll be able to be a good daddy. And if not, maybe in the future Mummy will find you a better daddy,” Killian replied carefully, not at all sure he was saying the right thing; he was so far out of his depth. “For now, though, I can just be your friend.”

A small smile crept onto Henry’s face, “Friends?”

“Friends?” Killian returned the question.

“Yeah!” Henry nodded enthusiastically.

The boy’s smile broadened into a huge grin, one which Killian couldn’t help but return. As they fell into a comfortable silence, the heated exchange in the doorway was the only sound which filled the room.

“You want to see your son?” Emma snapped. “Sober the hell up and get some help. I’m done playing these games with you.”

“Fine!” an exasperated Neal shot back.

“Fine!”

Killian watched as Neal turned and staggered off down the steps back towards the street, amazed and slightly disappointed to see him do so without falling flat on his face. Emma slammed the door on him, the loud bang making little Henry jump. She let out a heavy sigh, and took a moment to compose herself, before turning around to find her son. Her eyes landed on Killian and she narrowed them, confused and surprised by his presence, watching him inquisitively as she walked over.

“Hey there,” she greeted.

“Hi,” he returned.

An exchange of hellos.

Henry jumped up from the bench, bouncing enthusiastically on his feet as he grabbed Emma’s hand.

“Mommy, Mommy, this is Killian, the man next door. He’s my new friend. He’s very nice. He sat with me whilst you and Daddy were arguing again,” Henry told her excitedly.

Emma glanced to the door and there was a harder look on her face when she looked back at Killian, “You heard all that?”

“I heard all the stories your boy was telling me,” Killian responded, choosing not to acknowledge the argument that she didn’t seem too thrilled about him overhearing. Something told him she hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were in the building, and just how many of her behind-closed-doors domestics he had also heard in the past. “He’s got quite the imagination.”

“Did they end with everyone getting eaten?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“They did, indeed,” Killian confirmed with a nod. “Quite the thrilling twist.”

“Predictable if you listen to too many,” Emma warned.

“That, I look forward too,” he returned.

She smiled slightly then spoke, with some of the sincerest words he had ever heard, “Thank you, Killian.”

“It was my honor,” he returned, matching her tone. “That’s one fine boy you’ve got there. He’s a real credit to you.”

Even if he has been dropping you in it.

Emma looked down at Henry beside her, ruffling his hair. When she looked back up at Killian, their eyes locked, his blue ones meeting her green, captivating him, drawing him in just as her voice did. Henry’s words echoed in his mind; I heard Mommy say she wanted the man next door in her bed. That’s you. It was him. Emma wanted him and man, did he want her. Not necessarily in his bed (though he certainly wouldn’t protest) but even in general; he wanted her there, with him, beside him, around. He wanted to be hers and, lost in each other’s gaze, he had the chance to take a step in that direction, to ask her out.

“Where’s Daddy?” Henry spoke up first, beating him to it.

Damn it. Bloody Neal.

Emma’s eyes left his, dropping down to her kid once more and Killian followed her gaze. Henry was looking towards the closed door of the apartment building, no Neal in sight.

“He said we were going bowling,” a disappointed Henry sighed.

“I know, kid,” Emma crouched down to his level, pushing the hair away from his eyes before taking his hands in hers. “But Daddy had to be somewhere. He’s really sorry. Maybe in a few weeks-”

“Let’s do it,” Killian spoke up, cutting her off.

Emma looked up at him, frowning, “I’m sorry?”

“Let’s do it,” Killian repeated. “Let’s go bowling.”

Henry gasped, his eyes immediately lighting up as he started excitedly bouncing around again. “Really?”

“If your mum doesn’t mind…” Killian hesitantly trailed off, realizing he probably should have spoken to Emma about it first.

He looked at her. The sharp look he received back from Emma told him he most definitely should have spoken to her first.

Bloody hell.

Had he put his foot in it the very first chance he had gotten? Had he screwed things up before they had even begun?

Emma stood up. She encouraged Henry to take a look at his book whilst she discussed some plans, and then pulled Killian away from the bench and towards the door. Her touch was light and her skin smooth against his arm. He was hit by a pang of disappointment when her touch left him, desperate for more. She folded her arms, guarding herself.

“Look, Killian, I appreciate-”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, cutting her off before realizing he was developing a bad habit of doing so. “I should have spoken to you before saying anything to the lad. He just looked so disappointed.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Killian, but all you did is delay the disappointment, probably even increased it. I can’t take him bowling,” Emma told him with an exasperated sigh. “I’m living pay check-to-pay check as it is and we’re only just scraping by. I can’t afford to take him bowling.”

“It’s on me,” Killian told her.

Emma gaped at him, “Why would you do such a thing?”

The question had multiple answers, as far as Killian was concerned. He could spend all day answering that one. After all, why wouldn’t he do such a thing? He decided to keep his response as concise as possible in an effort not to appear all gushy.

“Because your son is quite the charmer, in his own little way,” he told her. “And it’s about time I asked you out on a date and I can’t wait a week and I don’t expect you to find a babysitter on such short notice. So, Emma Swan, would you and your little prince care to join me on a bowling and pizza adventure?”

“You know my surname?” she didn’t miss a trick.

“I may have peeked at your mail,” he confessed.

“That’s crafty, Killian Jones,” she smirked at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her own crafty confession, “Is that a yes?”

“Hey, kid!” Emma avoided answering, calling over to Henry instead, whose little head shot out of his book like lightning. “Wanna go bowling?”

“Yes!” Henry exclaimed.

The four-year-old tossed his book aside on the bench and jumped to his feet, racing across to Emma and Killian before once again returning to his excited bouncing.

“Killian’s treating us to bowling,” Emma told the boy. “What do you need to say?”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Henry exclaimed.

Without warning, the boy charged at him, running straight into his legs, and wrapping his arms around them. The action knocked Killian off balance and he would have fallen were it not for Emma grabbing a hold of his hand and steadying him, saving him from that embarrassment. With his balance restored, Killian gratefully ran his thumb along hers as he let go.

“That’s quite alright, Henry,” Killian replied as he gently patted the boy on the shoulder.

“Come on then, kid, go fetch your book and we’ll set off,” Emma prompted.

Henry released Killian from his tight grasp and ran off back to the bench, doing as he was told. Killian’s eyes met Emma’s once more as she smiled at him, a gesture he automatically returned.

“You just made his day,” Emma told him.

“You just made my year,” Killian returned.

--

Tags: @teamhook@laianely@booksteaandtoomuchtv@exhaustedpirate@anmylica@hollyethecurious@kmomof4@winterbaby89@undercaffinatednightmare@resident-of-storybrooke@tiganasummertree@stahlop@lfh1226-linda@darkshadow7@fleurdepetite@captainswan-kellie@motherkatereloyshipper@soniccat@jrob64@whimsicallyenchantedrose@jonesfandomfanatic@myfearless-love

[bougiebutchbitch]

Okay but

We’ve all seen (and greatly enjoyed) ‘Batman fucks Joker to keep Gotham City safe’

But I would like to propose to the jury: Joker fucks Batman to keep Batman strong enough to defend Gotham against him

It’s a typical night, and they’re brawling over the rooftops, the Bat Signal illuminating the clouds above like an overexposed lightning flash. All is fine and dandy. Or at least, it should be.

Batsy’s... distracted.

Joker landed three hits out of five. All did far more damage than they should have, jarring Batman’s shoulder joints and knocking the air out of his solar plexus. He even managed to stab him! Without using any of the fun jokeshop distractions in his pockets!

Why, Batman’s hardly protecting himself, relying on his armour to do the work - which is real stupid, given how Joker’s memorized every gradient, every angle, the weakpoint of every plate. And that isn’t where the oddities stop. Batman‘s simultaneously louder and quieter than usual. All those gruff grunts when he swings an uppercut almost make up for the lack of banter - but Joker can’t get a rise out of him, no matter what buttons he pushes.

Not that Batsy’s zen. His jaw winds so tight, he must be at risk of cracking a tooth (which is only fair, considering how many of Joker’s he’s punched out over the years). Evidently, something’s eating away at that big ol’ brain of his. Bats in the belfry again. Ha.

It takes far longer than it should for Batman to wrestle him down off the roofs, into an alley, where he can be pinned and cuffed in the grime and the trash, where he belongs. Ooh - Joker chews his painted lip, wiggling delightedly in the gutter. Facedown, hips up, Bat’s big hands pinning his hands above his head - ain’t this just Joker’s favourite pose?

He arches back, cracking a joke - of course he does, who would he be if he didn’t? (”Is that a batarang in your codpiece or are you just, ha-ha-happy to see me?”)

What he doesn’t expect is for Bat to crack too.

Batman startles. Lurching away. Dropping Joker’s wrists like he’s burning.

How... odd. After all, it’s not like flirting isn’t part of the usual routine.

Except Bats is glaring at him. He looks oddly tense. Flighty, almost. For a reason Joker can’t quite figure out - which is a novelty; usually, he knows precisely what threats he’s thrown at his darling, precisely why he deserves all the pain Batsy brings him with his fists. 

Joker frowns. He hauls himself slowly to his feet, flicking a knife from his sleeve in case Bats gets handsy again. The white lenses of the cowl hide Batsy’s eyes. But there’s something about the rapid heave of his chest, the tight clench of his fists, leather squeaking around the gauntlets’ carbonfibre plates...

Almost as if -

Joker’s eyes widen. Oh.

Ohhhh.

So, that’s what’s got him all zoned out tonight. Joker’s first instinct, of course, is to laugh.

But even as the giggles geyser from his mouth, crackling off the alley’s leaning redbrick walls, his mind whirls uneasily in on itself. Batman was off his game. Batman was vulnerable. Batman was weak. In fact, Gotham’s caped crusader is still favouring his right leg, though Joker should never have gotten close enough to steal one of Batsy’s cute little bat-shaped blades and jam it into his calf.

He can smell out the problem, sure as the heavy, oiled scent of Batsy’s kevlars sticks to his bloody knuckles. Batman’s got the horn - and if that ain’t hilarious, Joker doesn’t know what is.

But it also cannot stand. Batsy’s condition is weakening him, to the point where some other lowlife from the criminal underworld might be able to take him out. That’s hardly an appropriate finale for their dans macabre! No - Joker refuses to accept this.

Something must be done.

Here’s the thing: Batsy ain’t exactly unpopular with the ladies. He’s got the damn Cat always hanging off his arm, and that Amazonian chick with the whip always stands reaaaal close when the Justice League assembles. Men, too - hell, Joker’s had more than one little talk with Lexie about how he needs to keep Supes away from Joker’s man. But Bats can’t let go with them, can he? Can’t use them hard and brutal, all that strength and fury unleashed on the person beneath him.

Sure, ol’ Supes could withstand it physically. But mentally? Bats wants to maintain that relationship. Wants all his friends - lovers, family, whatever - to see him as the epitome of control. Not a rabid, ravening bat-beast who will take what he wants with violence. And as much as Joker would love to watch Batsy break and tear the lot of his so-called friends apart, tragically, he knows Batman is far too likely to end himself - and their dance - early.

Thankfully, Joker is always happy to help his darling be the best version of himself he can be! Why, this will practically a public service! The city needs Batman!

He needs Batman.

To be strong. To be sure. To stop him, before he destroys this whole big, ugly joke of a world.

So, he grins at Batman, blows him a kiss, and runs. The next morning, there’s a knock at the door of Wayne Manor...

[icarus-does-fall]

I FINISHED THE REDACTED FIC <33

It's roughly 5 thousand words

I can write more to it if people like it, it's technically open ended- but yk see how it reads I guess ^_^

I might cry if I wrote the redacted boys wrong but I wrote this in less than a week all during the hours of 10pm-2am so 🤷‍♂️

Story under the cut (no shit)

Ambrosine Oliver Emory- Or Beau to his friends had just moved to Dahlia, he worked for a news network that crossed continents and before he was in Dahlia he had been living in Ireland for the past 6 months. The cherry on top? Beau was a fire elemental, and moving to Dahlia he’d finally be able to meet some other empowered folks, not to say that Ireland didnt have any empowered of their own, they just were a bit more long lived than he was used to, but it was a special sort of sight to be there during Halloween.

He’d just stepped off the aeroplane, the California heat as strong as ever even though it was nearly two in the morning. His hair was dishevelled and pulled back into a messy bun as he walked to collect his bags before making his way to his car that had been shipped ahead of him and had been waiting for days. He already had a small apartment set up for him thanks to work, all which so happened to be on the border of the Shaw pack territory- not that Beau knew this though.

David Shaw, the alpha of the Shaw pack, coincidentally the largest pack in the area. He’d been engaged up until a few years ago when his mate died, they’d been out on their own and a few of Quinns goons had gotten them cornered and caught off guard. They were found too late. It’d been only recently that Asher and Milo had convinced David to start trying the dating scene again, so far it hasn't gone well. That's what you get for leaving your love life in the hands of those two.

Now being the alpha of a pack meant a lot of things. It meant paperwork, meetings, politics, but it also meant being alerted when a new and unnamed empowered moved in too close to the territory and it also meant that he had to make sure that the new empowered wasn't someone insane or a danger to his pack.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

It’d only been a day after Beau had gotten moved in, he looked more put together than he did when getting off of the aeroplane. His hair was pulled back into a braid, he'd thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He'd just barely gotten the chance to get used to the time changes and take a shower when there was a knock on his door.

“Bloody hell- I don't even know anyone here yet and my door is already gettin’ banged on, there's no chance I’ve gone and pissed somebody off yet… Right?”

With a sigh and a slight drag of his feet from the couch to the door he opened it only to be faced with the one and only David Shaw. Now Beau wasn't an idiot, while he might not have known who exactly stood in front of him he knew the man had importance and power just from the aura he radiated.

“Oh- um… hello? How- Who- Can I help you with something… Mister…?”

David's response was blunt and to the point but it carried a husky and low sort of tone. “Shaw. David Shaw, pack alpha. You're the new empowered who's moved close to my territory, I'm here to make sure you're not a threat.”

Beaus' eyes widened a fraction after David's introduction and he laughed sheepishly, he leaned against his door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Oh… you're the Dahlia alpha that's nice to know… Do I invite you in, how does this work? I’ve never been uh… vetted before, I’m usually just allowed to live in places.”

David's eyebrow quirked, normally people were scared- or at the very least seemed more intimidated of him than this person was showing. He wasn't small and he had authority, he was… intrigued to say the least. “Just a short chat would suffice for now, no one here knows who you are, that's suspicious when you move in so suddenly, and you're too close to pack territory to simply ignore.”

“Okay then… Come on in I guess? Pardon the mess, I haven't gotten to finish unpacking just yet. My stuff was sent here before I was and a shower and watering my plants seemed to be a higher priority than unboxing dishes.”

He couldn’t stop the soft chuckle this newcomer seemed so scattered about that it reminded him of his friends. As he stepped into the apartment and took in the sight the warning was putting it lightly, the boxes and the mess was everywhere but even so it still left homey. “This isn't a way to live, you know. There's nowhere to walk- Or sit.”

Beau gave David a flat look and huffed slightly. “I said I was working on it, there's no need to get so judgy about it, damn.”

Davd’s lips pursed before he sighed and moved one of the smaller boxes off a chair and sat at the breakfast bar. “Apologies. Now you know who I am, just who are who exactly?”

“Shouldn't you, oh I don't know, know this already? You know I'm empowered but not my name, stalker vibes dude-”

He growled and his eyes narrowed in slight irritation. “I'm not a stalker, I just get updates on the empowered who move into pack territory, that doesn't mean I get your life story though.”

“Sure thing wolfy, as for my life story as you put it, my name's Ambrosine Emory but folks just call me Beau, it's easier, and I work for NPR. The news station so I get sent all over, this was just my next assignment. Nothin’ devious I promise.”

David's eyes narrowed further and he growled lowly, “Don't call me wolfy.”

“Yeah whatever, wolfy. So am I allowed to live in my apartment or are you gonna tell me no? Which I really don't think you can do.”

David's scowl deepened and he huffed. “Shut up- Just don't hurt the pack and yes you can stay. There's no rule against you living where you do, just against causing trouble.”

Beau grinned and laughed, leaning against the breakfast bar with a roll of his eyes as he was propped up on his arms. “Wooowww so graceful~ How ever should I say thank you for letting me stay in my own apartment.”

“You have an attitude, has anyone ever told you that you need to be more respectful sometimes?”

“I can be respectful! When I need to be, but just cause you're some alpha doesn't mean you automatically gain my respect, life doesn't work like that wolfy.”

“Whatever.”

Beau grinned further and tried to muffle his giggles. “Sure sure okay, you can whatever your way out of this one but not everything. Just sayin’... Soooo you sayin’ for coffee or, leaving so I can keep unpacking?”

David huffed and stood from the chair with a slight scowl on his features. “Just shut up and keep your nose clean, we’re gonna be keeping an eye on you alright.”

“Bye wolfy see you ‘round!”

“Fuck off. And stop calling me wolfy damnit.”

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

David made his way back towards the pack house with a scowl on his face and the moment he walked through the doors he was immediately bombarded with questions about the new move in from Milo and Asher.

“Hey Davey! Back so soon? You scare off the new kid on the block already/

“Aww man does that mean I don't get to invite them over for game night? Maann I was looking forward to some fresh players.”

“Davids not in control of game night Milo, invite who you want, I wanna know what the new kids like? Anything interesting?”

“Will both of you shut up, please.” David rolled his eyes at the twos excitement and shook his head as he hung up his leather jacket and then walked towards the kitchen for a drink. “The move ins name is Beau, he's a fire elemental. Works for the news network, NRP- but I’m gonna do a little digging on him, something seemed off.”

“Off? Wanna explain any further on that maybe?”

“He didn't seem bothered by me being there, he treated me like just a regular visitor, like I couldn't absolutely destroy him, that's weird isn't it?”

“Oooor hear me out, you're overthinkin’ it and the dude is just a dude who knows he wasn't doing anything wrong? Not everyone is gonna be out to get ya David.”

“Maybe but it's still a possibility and you all are my responsibilities. And after…” David sighed and his grip on his drink tightened as he scowled. “And after Angel died because I failed I have to make sure that doesn't happen again. I can't lose anyone else important to me. It’s not happening”

The room after that got very quiet, very tense, it always did whenever Angel was brought up in that way. It was always easier to just think that them and David had broken up because they weren't around anymore but the truth was ugly and harsh and no one liked to face it.

“Sorry man, you know we didn't mean anything by it. We all miss ‘em you know.”

“I know, I know… I just need a minute, and keep an eye on the newbie alright? I just don't trust him.”

And with that David took his drink and walked off to his room. It was simply an over decorated place to hold a bed, what life and colour it held died away when Angel did, he moved out of his apartment- He had Asher and Sam help get his things, he could barely make it through the door, and then moved back into the back house. No more hosting solstice for him. He let out a guttural growl and slammed the door behind him as he walked into his room. It cracked. And broke the door jam, that was the fourth one in three months.

He sighed and under his breath as he sunk against the door spoke, “Damnit Angel, you fuckin’ perv why’d you have to die on me. We were getting married next spring, we had a plan damnit.”

David leaned his head against the broken door and sighed again before taking a sip of his drink. He could hear the concerned whispers of Milo and Asher on the other side of his door, this wasn't anything new and while David was coping he wasn't always coping healthily which was the problem. He worked till he dropped most nights and he hadn’t let himself cry since the day Angel died, he had people while somehow having no one all at the same time.

He didn't move from that position until the sun began to set, and the boys left after about 15 minutes of lingering after the door was first broken. While they knew their mates would understand if they stayed they also knew that there was nothing either of them could do to help David right now. They weren’t sure there was anyone who would be able to help pull David out of his new found darkness.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

While David was having his mental breakdown, Beau on the other hand was unpacking without a care in the world while jamming out to Metallica- Thank the gods that he didn't have any close by neighbours otherwise he'd be getting noise complaints on his very first day. But hed gotten the majority of his boxes unpacked and his apartment actually looked like a place that could be lived in now and not just a storage unit.

Beaus’ apartment was filled with thrifted goods, fairy lights, tapestries and posters of all sorts, it was warm and cosy, soft to an extent. He even had a few stuffed animals scattered about to act as throw pillows.

By the end of the night he was curled up on his couch, the TV was playing Wall-E and he’d made himself a cuppa tea. “I’d say today was productive, yeah? Got grilled by the alpha of the largest pack in Dahlia and then got my apartment unpacked… mostly… Now to just keep the big bad wolf off my back, that would be fantastic.”

He laughed to himself and took a sip of his tea as Wall-E and Eva danced across his TV screen and then eventually fell asleep just like that, all nestled up sleeping soundly on the couch with Disney classics playing in the background. That was of course until the sun rose the next day, by then he was being awoken by nonstop knocking at his door.

Gods above it wasn't even 9am yet. There wasn't even coffee made.

“Hey newbie! You awake? What’d you do to David last night that broke him when he came home?”

In Beaus' groggy state he simply glared at the door for a moment, grumbling to himself as he stood and shuffled over towards the door. “Fuckin’ cunts- First its the big bad wolfy saying imma blow everybody up, now its wolfys friend at the door to and its too damn early, better have coffee or imma be the problem wolfy fuckin think I am-”

He opened the door and stared at another hulking figure, well everyone was a hulking figure to Beau he wasn't exactly that tall, except this one had scruffy ash blonde hair and piercings galore. “Hey-”

“Nope, nononono, no pleasantries yet, it's too damn early- I just wanted you to stop bangin’ on my door. Here’s how this is gonna work. If you really need to talk, you're gonna wait until I've had my coffee and then we can chat. Hear me?”

Asher nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. Beau was direct and almost a little harsh, he didn't hold back. That was appreciated, he had a feeling that his new move in was gonna be a good addition to their little life. “Yeah yeah I can wait, shoulda brought coffee to streamline the process huh- I’ll remember.”

Beau grumbled and rolled his eyes before walking towards his kitchenette, Asher following closing the door behind him as Beau put on a pot of coffee. As it started to brew he merely leaned against the counter and crossed his arms watching how Asher seemed to take in every part of his apartment.

“Okay I can't do the creepy silence, even if im not totally awake yet- Who are you besides wolfys friend?”

Asher chuckled and raised an eyebrow, “wolfy? And he hasn't gone off on you for callin’ him that? hell i still get shit for callin’ him Davey. Names Asher, friends call me Ash. I'm David's beta in the pack, i've known him his whole life and he came back to the pack house just off last night yaknow? Wanted to see what the two of you could’ve talked bout to see ‘im off like that.”

Beau cracked a smile at that and had to stop himself from laughing. “Wait, wait, wait, you think I broke the big bad wolf? That’s hilarious, I didn't do nothin to the guy, he’s the one who barged in here, insulted my house- apartment- whatever and then threatened me. All I did was ask if he wanted a cuppa coffee.”

“Wait- thats it- You sure?”

“I was there, of course Im fuckin sure”

“Obviously but something happened to cause him to basically shut down, he broke another door last night so.”

“He broke a door? I mean I’ve caught a few things on fire when I've forgotten myself but a door christ I didnt think me moving in was that big of a deal, no one else has ever cared before.”

“Well… We’ve had some problems recently, not just the pack but like off in Dahlia- Rouge vampires and shit, people have died and no one knows you, hell you're moving in from a different country so Davids just being cautious.”

Beau was about to say something when the kettle whistled for his coffee and so he turned his attention from Asher towards the stove top and put together his coffee, pouring in his cream and sugar and basked in the heat of it as he sighed happily before he spoke up again. “So empowered folks have died here? Cause some crazy vamp, and wolfy here thinks I'm somehow involved? I work for a new network- I think the most dangerous thing I’ve done is skydive.”

“David gets protective sometimes, more so after his mate died. He’s been a wreck, he's back to acting just like when his dad died all over again. It's a hard sight to see but he means well, honestly he does.” Asher paused and then grinned and laughed. “Wait wait, you've gone skydiving? Like jumping out of a plane skydiving?”

“Yeah we went for my cousin's birthday some time ago- He’s an air elemental… And well he didn't really wanna go skydiving but his partner and their friends thought it'd be a really cool idea and I was in town that weekend so I got dragged along. Laskos’ a bit of an airhead sometimes but he's really sweet and we don't have the greatest relationship with our families so we tend to stick together like glue.”

“Damn newbie who would've thought you'd be adventurous, you just seem more like a homebody than anything else.”

“I don't know if I should be offended by that or not but uh.. Thanks? Maybe?”

“Sure thing newbie, now since you're living close to pack territory, you planning on meeting any of 'em or just lurking near the edge of the grounds?”

“I could but uh incase you're forgetting there, I am kinda tiny compared to you lot and I'm not a shifter? I play with fire. Not sure how it works down here in Dahlia but most places I've lived the empowereds don't really just mingle unless it's important.”

“Sure for the most part but not really, we all kinda just hang, there's no real separation yaknow? C’mon I’ll introduce ya to your new neighbours newbie.”

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

David that morning however looked broken, he always did after a night thinking about Angel. It had been years since their death but by the gods above he wasn't moving on, no he was simply just burying every emotion and breaking things to deal with the emotions he felt. He knew, he knew he needed to talk, he barely was getting over his dad's death and that was thanks to Angel and then they go and get killed- He simply lost it. He was a shell of the, not more open man that Angel made him but he was different around them and he’d lost that spark.

He had bags under his eyes and his usual put together self looked like he was slowly falling apart. He was doing all he could to stay together, to keep everyone together. Groggily he made his way towards the kitchen only to be greeted with the sight of Asher and Beau in his kitchening laughing having a grand old time.

He stood in the doorway and stared for a few moments before sighing and walking into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. “Morning Ash… and others.”

“Hey Davey! I dragged the newbie over, figured he could do with some friends and since he's living close to the pack, thought I could introduce him to some of the folks here. Milo and Sam are swinging by later to hang out too. Same mentioned something ‘bout bringing Porter on by too but that's still up in the air.”

Beau was sitting on one of the kitchen counters and rolled his eyes as David and Asher spoke. “Dramatic little wolves- Are we sure I really need that many friends? That sounds like a lot of people there pretty boy-”

Asher simply grinned and ruffled Beaus' hair with a laugh. That simple action caused a surge of feelings through David and he wasn't sure why. He was blaming it on lack of sleep. “Don't worry about it newbie, they're all great people, and I'm sure everyone will get along great with you.”

David scowled and huffed quietly as he poured his coffee into a mug and then leaned against the counter to face Asher. “And you thought it was a good idea to bring a stranger into the pack house? Do you know the consequences if something goes wrong?”

“Oh chill out the newbie isn't some axe murderer, he's actually pretty chill.”

“Hmpf”

Beau grinned widely and laughed a bit as he changed positions a bit to sit cross legged on the counter he was sitting on. “Hey, maybe I am some crazy axe murderer! Don’t take away all my fun just cause wolfy here doesn't trust me.”

“How many damn times do I have to tell you not to call me Wolfy? My name is David for gods sake you war criminal.”

“Oh for fucks sake, its too early in the day for you to be this pissy isnt it? Don't you know how to relax and have fun?”

“I can have fun when my home isn't possibly being threatened.”

Beau huffed and blew out a stream of smoak from his nose. “I can show you being threatened if you want to be threatened. Dont fuck with me wolfy.”

David snarled and placed down his coffee, taking a step clear to Beau as Asher shifted awkwardly from foot to foot before laughing awkwardly and then began to walk out of the kitchen.

“O-okay, I'm just gonna- go… Have fun? I guess? And here I thought I was gonna introduce the newbie to people today and make friends.”

They both ignored Asher as he left, unbeknownst to them, Asher was pouting as he walked out of the pack house and got onto a call with his mate to complain about the whole being ignored situation, if anyone would listen to him Babe would.

“Aww if the big bad wolf all mad cause I called him out on his bullshit?~”

“You haven't done anything except piss me off so why don't you just stop talking.”

Beau smirked and leaned forward on the counter letting his legs dangle over the edge. “Why don't you come make me shut up wolfy?”

David's eyes narrowed and he took another step closer to Beau and the counter. He was now within a foot of him, his hands placed on either side of Beau on the counter and his voice was a gruff whisper. “I am more than capable of making you shut up you war criminal.”

Beau flushed slightly, and his voice turned breathy, it wouldn't have been noticeable to a normal person, but to a shifter, David caught the change in tone though, it nearly made him smirk but he was still a bit too pissed to pay attention to how he was feeling despite what he was doing. “Prove it then wolfy cause I don't think you got it in you. I think I’d burn you.”

With a growl David closed the space between them, pulling Beau in for a kiss. David's lips were rough compared to the softness of Beaus’ yet together it was a slow yet still heated and almost electric feelling. “I said, shut up.”

The kiss broke away after a few moments and while Beau was blushing, David seemed shocked by his own actions and took a step back before simply walking away, he looked to be in a daze. He walked out to the porch where Asher was sitting, still on the phone talking with Babe.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

David took the open seat next to Asher, his face was pale but now also flushed red as he buried his face into his hands and groaned. “Ash, I think I fucked up.”

“Oh so now you wanna talk to me? I’ll call you back Babe, now Davey here wants to acknowledge my presence. Soooo what did you do?~”

“I kissed him- I didn't mean to either, but I did, we were arguing and I kissed him, and it wasn't a bad kiss either. What about Angel? I-I know they're gone but damnit Ash it feels wrong to move on from them.”

Asher's smug grin slowly faded into a knowing look and he smiled softly as he clasped David on the shoulder. “Oh man… You know it's okay to feel happy and do things again? I mean, I know Milo and I tried to set you up a few times but you just depression scared those people away, this guy those, he has a fire and I think it set something off in you… And we both know that Angel would’ve wanted you to keep living, not stick around to be some stick in the mud for the rest of your life.”

David sighed and looked over towards Asher through the corner of his eye. “Are we sure about this cause I still love Angel, they were my everything and- Christ Ash I kissed him and just walked out on the guy!”

Asher held back a laugh and grinned as he shook his head. “You idiot, you walked out on the guy you just made out with?”

David flushed slightly and huffed. “We didn't make out, it was one kiss, okay? One.”

“Oh with how messed up you are right now I’d say there’s gonna be more than just one singular kiss in your future Davey.”

David scowled and he growled quietly but he was still blushing. He hated to admit it but Asher was right, Angel would’ve preferred he moved on with his life and not stick to the past but their wedding would've been this month, he was a whirlwind of emotions and he could figure out which ones were which. “I hate you Ash.”

“I know Davey, now go talk to the pretty boy that you left in there and talk to him.”

“And if I don’t? Think I’ll fuck up my future chances or think he’ll walk out here to follow me?”

“Oh please, you're a good looking guy David but I don't think that the newbie is that desperate for a piece of your ass.”

David huffed and lightly shaved Asher, holding in a laugh as he rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off Ash, he kissed me back, you dont just do that if youre not at least somewhat into the other person… Right?”

“I don't know man, you know how me and my mate got together- I kinda just do what they say… Mostly… But just go back in there and talk to him, tell him about all the things, I promise he’s a chill guy- He’ll understand.”

David sighed and his head dropped again before he stood and began to walk back into the house to where he left Beau sitting onto the counter. Beau now however was finishing off David's coffee and raiding the fridge as David walked back into the kitchen, he grinned cheekily. “You do that to every guy you kiss? Just walk off right after?~”

“No- No typically it leads to something else, I just haven't really kissed anyone in a while- It was… unexpected”

Beau grinned teasingly and laughed softly as he closed the fridge door. “Right… Can’t blame you for that, so uh… Why haven't you kissed anyone in so long? You get mono and go comatose for a year?”

“Well… My mate, they died a few years back- I doubt you know much about whats happened in Dalhia but theres a vampire running about named Quinn- some of his goons caught my mate out on their own and next thing any of us knew they were bleeding out in my arms and I stopped kissing people after that.” He laughed nervously and shrugged, “Milo and Ash tried a couple times to get me to date but I scared all their options away.”

Beau paused at that, his smile faded completely and he placed down the stolen mug of coffee. “O-oh… Oh shit- Im sorry, Im not fucking up your grieving process am I? Being a menace and kissing back- I know how tough that stuff is… I could've pulled away if I knew you were going through some things.”

David chuckled softly and placed his hands on Beaus' shoulders. “No it's fine, be a menace- hell Ash said that is what is probably helping me pull me out of my dark and scary place. I walked out cause, I still love my mate but you invoke some type of feelings in me too, I wasn't sure what to do about that.”

“Oh- Alright, sooo do I get another kiss or is this just gonna be an awkward thing till someone bucks up and does something about your dark place?”

“We take it slow, I might feel things but I'm still ‘dark and scary’… But I can spare one more kiss, for now.”

“You're not scary wolfy~”

David growled playfully as he pressed close against Beau, his lips grazing his ear. “Oh shut up you little criminal.”

And as soon as David stopped talking he leaned in for another kiss which Beau quickly responded to.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Tags-

@froggytimemachineinternet

@definitelynuwonhere

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 3 - alt. Human Shield

Note: in case it’s not clear, villain ha a quirk that allows him to deflect incoming attacks and send them back :)

TWs in tags || Read on Ao3 || wc: 971

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Distantly she can hear her sidekick cursing out whatever villain he’s fighting. Kyouka wishes she could help but she’s slightly distracted by whatever hell she’s found herself in with this bastard. 

“Oi!” She shouts, “Don’t leave me hangin’!” grinning, she spits what’s probably one of her molars onto the dirt. 

The villain snickers, “Don’t tell me you believed you were walking away from this, Hero.” 

Her quirk has been virtually useless throughout the whole fight. The villain’s quirk caused enough pain to her that she finally gave up and moved to hand-to-hand. 

The vibrations have practically emaciated her earphone jacks, but she uses the left to tap into her comm device. 

Flipping through the heroes she knows are at her disposal, she decides quickly. She knows one who always kicked her ass during quirkless spars. 

“This is Earphone Jack, Send Creati over to the courtyard on 3rd. Backup needed.” She mumbles, wiping her bloody hand over her mouth. 

The villain barely gives her time to recoup, lunging at her and throwing a left hook. 

She dodges, ignoring the questions coming into her ear. If they don’t send Momo they’re useless to her. 

But her exhaustion is catching up to her, and she’s slow enough to get clocked by the villain’s second hit. 

She heaves, struggling to get air after the metal glove hits right in her abdomen. 

“Earphone Jack!” Her savior shouts from her left, running around the corner just in time to watch the villain headbutt her so hard her vision blacks out. 

“Momo!” Kyouka shouts, waving her hand behind her, “He-”

The villain punches her again. She knows she has been thoroughly fucked up, but she can officially add black eyes and a broken nose to her recovery list.

She’s thrown back, head hitting the ground just as hard. The ringing in her ears sharpens, and she struggles to find the will to stand back up. 

“Kyouka! Stay down!” 

Shit. 

The villain laughs. 

“Momo, fuck! You can’t use your-” She coughs, red splattering onto the ground below her. Her body groans as she tries to push herself back up. 

“DOWN!” Momo roars, grunting as she finishes her cluster gun. 

“I take down your partner and you kill me so brutally. How cruel, Creati.” The villain coos, tucking his hands behind his back. 

Kyouka hears the safety click off and she curses, “Momo please-”

“Go to hell.” Momo grits, firing without a second thought. 

Kyouka uses what will surely be the last of her energy to lunge, shoving Momo like a child might. The smoking barrel of the gun is tossed from her hands and lands some feet away. e

In a split second, all Kyouka can feel is pain. 

“What the- Kyouka why did you…” 

“Oh!” The villain exclaims, “But what was it that she tried to tell you?” 

Momo sits up sharply, gaze darting to the vision and his… lack of bullet wounds. 

“But-”

Kyouka groans, using the angle of Momo’s torso to push herself off and rollover. 

Blood gushes out of her and she mentally takes note of where she can feel the entry and exit points. lung, lung, stomach… kidney? Fuck, she can’t even tell. 

She can feel the moment Momo realizes what happened. She goes still, her breath hitching sharply. 

“I- Kyouka, he- You- I didn’t mean-” Her voice falters, her soft hands coming up to Kyouka’s face and smearing the blood further. 

Kyouka raises her hand, pressing the seam on Momo’s suit that hides the S.O.S button. 

She smiles, shaking her head ever so slightly, “‘s-ok.” Her chest heaves, vibrating with the effort it’s taking her to breathe. 

Fuck, the naïve part of her expected it wouldn’t be this painful. 

Maybe that means she’ll live? She had seen death before. It always looked so peaceful. She can’t leave in this state, she needs to come back for Momo. She can’t do this. 

“-KYOUKA!” A loud boom snaps her back to reality. She realizes she’d been staring straight through Momo, to something she can’t see anymore. 

“Bakugo and Eraserhead are here, c’mon I need to get you out of here.” 

“Q-quirk... Can’t” 

“No, he won’t do it again, ‘kay? Sensei is here.” Momo whispers, frantically pressing gauze into Kyouka’s chest. 

Oh, right. She did say that. 

“Kyouka, I’m so sorry. We’re gonna get you all fixed up, I promise. RG is waiting for you, we just gotta get you- KYOUKA! C’mon darling you need to stay with me.” Momo pats her cheek a few times.

Kyouka is having trouble figuring out why they need to be panicking. 

She… she feels okay.

Maybe if she just-

“FUCKIN’ GOT HIM. MOMO LET’S MOVE.” 

Who is that? Are there other people here?

“Shit, Bakugo I can’t get her to- we need a healer here. She’s… she’s not going to make it.” Someone whispers above her. 

Or no, not a whisper. But it’s quiet. Where did the ringing go? There was more noise… before. 

Kyouka is still staring. Momo is above her, looking over to the side. Something else she’s looking at makes noise. Some more yelling. 

She feels okay. 

Her chest rises, and she’s no longer on a hard surface. 

There’s a man above her now, he looks worried. She’s not used to seeing this one worried. His scarf tickles her nose. 

“C’mon kid, stay with me. I’ve been doing a good job keeping you guys alive. We’re not changing that now.” Aizawa says. 

Oh, he’s carrying her. That’s nice. 

She pushes her face into his chest, taking in the comfort of his presence. Nothing bad can happen now. 

The strength in her neck falters, and she begrudgingly allows herself to fall back. 

She’s looking up again, now. 

Where’d Momo go? Is she okay?

She wishes she were back on the ground. 

But she feels good.

[blackjackkent]

I don't know what I was expecting for Mizora's second entrance into camp, but it sure as hells wasn't this.

"Sorores surge. Testis esto pacti mei!"

Unlike the Latin-esque writing in Ketheric's journals back in the shadowlands, this actually is Latin, and means, "Arise, sisters. Be a witness of my covenant!"

And sure enough:

"Come, sisters! Be my testament! Notum sit in Baator!"

"Notum sit in Baator!" the new arrivals echo in tandem.

(This bit means "Be known in Baator!" - Baator being a term for the Nine Hells as a collective unit.)

"Holy hells," Wyll mutters.

Hector, who was expecting a bit more of a one-on-one practical conversation when Mizora said she wanted to talk, is a little thrown by this flamboyant arrival and the presence of several scantily clad devil women flanking him on either side. "Just... what are you up to?" he asks, shifting awkwardly.

"I come to bargain," Mizora says briskly. "The Hells demand witness."

"Enough, Mizora," Wyll snaps. "Where is my father? How do I save him?"

"How else?" Mizora answers. "We bargain. Sisters--"

The devils surrounding them begin to chant a soft repetitive phrase. "Infernus contractus te vocamus. Infernus contractus te vocamus. Infernus contractus te vocamus..."

(Google Translate renders this as "We call you the contracted hell," which doesn't make a ton of sense, but I'm guessing it's supposed to be something closer to, "We call you to a contract of the Hells," or possibly, "We call you, infernal contract.")

At Mizora's side, an enormous sheet of paper suddenly shimmers into existence, infused with letters of fiery, glowing ink.

"Your contract, Wyll," she says, mock-pleasantly. "Signed in blood, forged in fire, bound in bone - but not unbreakable."

"What are you proposing?" Hector asks warily.

"A life for a life," Mizora answers. "No contract is ended without sacrifice. The cost must be paid."

She lifts her arms and bursts of flame rise around all the devils in the circle, lifting them into the air.

"Wyll Ravengard," Mizora intones, her voice resonating with power. "A choice is before you. Option one - I show you the way to your father. I guarantee him no harm except that from you and your allies. And you pledge your soul to me and the archdevil Zariel in a pact eternal. Option two - I break your pact, and you are freed from your duty. Your father dies by his enemy's hand, and Baldur's Gate loses its greatest champion."

Absolute silence settles over the camp. She turns her head, fixing her eyes, glowing with infernal fire, on Wyll.

"Name your sacrifice."

"Bloody Zariel!" Hector can hear Karlach roar from outside the circle of flame that surrounds them. "I won't let her take Wyll!"

"Silence, Karlach!" Mizora snaps. Her eyes have not left Wyll's face.

He stares back at her, his face twisting with impotent rage. "Mizora, you arsehole!"

She smiles coldly. "Choose."

The most upsetting thing here, to be honest, is that Hector is given no option to let Wyll make the decision on his own. This is annoying not only from Hector's perspective but from mine, as this has been kind of a major character point for Hector - that he is a support to his friends in their hours of greatest choice, but that he does not take their agency from them.

Also, neither he nor I has any idea what to say here. This is a brutal decision to have to make, or to have to advise someone on. No matter what he says, Wyll will be miserable. No matter what he advises, Wyll very well might hate him for it.

But as he thinks it through... only one answer really crystallizes for him - and it is a somewhat selfish thought process, though selfish on Wyll's behalf as much as on his own.

He knows Wyll. He does not know Ravengard.

Wyll stands against the Absolute. Ravengard, as long as he has the parasite in his head, stands for it.

A man can live without a father. He himself grew up without one, thriving in the company of people not of his blood who nevertheless cared about him. But a man cannot live meaningfully with his soul stolen.

Ravengard, in surviving, would get a few decades more of life. Wyll, in surrendering, would suffer an eternity in Mizora's grasp.

Mizora makes clear that even if he does not agree, Wyll will keep his powers long enough to kill the Absolute and end this madness.

And Hector has seen Wyll in the few weeks since they broke the pact at Moonrise. He has seen a weight lifted from the younger man's shoulders - a hope for the future that was not there before. Hector cannot, in good conscience, take that away from him.

And Karlach, watching from beyond the flames, would say the same, in his place, and that is the final certainty.

"Break the pact, Wyll," he mutters. "You deserve your freedom."

Wyll closes his eyes and swallows tightly. "You damned wretch," he mutters, and it isn't clear if the epithet is directed at Hector, Mizora, or himself. "Father..." The word slips from him in a grief-stricken whisper.

Then his eyes open and he speaks rapidly, as if to make the decision before he can second-guess it. "Do it. Break the pact."

Mizora tips her head to one side, and then smirks slowly. "Fiat ita..." she says.

("Let it be so.")

The devils around them take up the chant. "Fiat ita. Anima ad Baator."

(This means, "Let it be so. Soul to Baator," which doesn't make a ton of sense in context and feels like maybe they didn't expect me to translate it. XD )

The glowing parchment at Mizora's side bursts into flame, crumbles to ash. The devils disappear back to the plane they came from. The ring of fire fades, and Mizora settles back to the ground.

She looks Wyll over with a thoughtful smirk.

"Didn't think you had it in you. Seems my boy's all grown up." She laughs brightly. "And don't go fussing about your father. You made your choice. You knew the terms."

She tips her head to one side; her eyes move from Wyll to Hector to Karlach and the others standing behind them. "You know what... I think I'll stick around." She snorts. "Not for the greater good, you understand. Just for the entertainment."

....And sure enough, she's just chilling next to Wyll's tent when we come out of the cutscene.

Ugh.

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: Steddie- Love Bites

Let's just say that Eddie comes back from the dead, and he's automatically drawn toward Steve's energy. There's something different about everything now. Eddie can feel the difference between people now. He's not reading into people's words, or attitudes he just knows how they're feeling.

Eddie is not sure if that has something to do with the fact that he came back from the fucking dead or not. It might have to do with the pointy canine teeth. His tongue keeps licking over the sharp end of them. Eddie more than likes the way they feel, but back to the point. Eddie came back to the world of Hawkins he felt different.

He could see, a distinct line that brought him all the way from his trailer to the Harrington house. Tall, large, and lonely was the house. Regardless of how many lights were lifted on he smelt of loneliness and heartbreak. Eddie had never been one for doing things straightforwardly. He liked the dramatics of it, he liked being crazy and wild.

Let's also just say that Eddie had been dreaming of Steve since rambling with him in the woods upside down. He had wished that he was strong enough to flirt with him, but the gazes that he saw between Steve and Nancy had made him shut his mouth. Regardless of this though Eddie was stronger now, mentally and physically. He climbed the side of Steves house, climbing directly into his bedroom window. A startled Steve was throwing his belongings and screaming bloody murder.

"Steve calm down it's just me!" Eddie had to scream to just get Steves attention. My objects were thrown his way, that was until he caught one of them. Eddie's jean vest. His pins were still stuck into the fabric, it made his heart beat so fast against his chest. "Steve you kept this?" Eddie's voice was softer. "Eddie?" Steve's eyes were blown wide, and his chest fell up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve screamed jumping up from his bed and running over towards Eddie. His arms fell around him, and all of a sudden the energy that Eddie had felt when he first escaped the upside-down was surrounding. His heart raced somehow faster in his chest and then slowed as he notice just how long Steve had held on to him.

"How did you?" Steve looks up at Eddie, eyes glossed over. Tears on the edge of falling. "I don - I'm not sure, I just somehow ended up back here and I followed you." The eyes that Steve sent my way were worry-filled, "I don't mean followed you literally, I mean I followed your energy. Sweet and summer-filled, yellow energy." Eddie muttered as he looked down at the man still holding him.

"So what are you then?" Steve asks Eddie, like Eddie knows what the hell he is, "I'm not sure, I just know that I've got some bitchin' teeth now." Eddie smiles showing off his shape canines. Steve can't help but reach out and graze his pointer finger over the edge of the tooth. Causing him to nick his skin, and blood to flow into Eddie's mouth.

that's the day Steve and Eddie find out he might be a vampire. Might be in Eddie's words like Kas from D&D, like Vecna was D&D.

The rest of the group finds out that Steve has been hiding Eddie when they come over to find the two of them in bed, Steve covered in bits, and Eddie's teeth blood red. It doesn't take long for the jokes and rhyme to fall back into the lines with everyone. Sure everyone is afraid of what might come along nowadays, and half the town of Hawkins has left. But at least everyone is together right.

One night it's just Steve and Eddie. Watching a practically boring movie when Steve shifts and climbs into Eddie's lap. They haven't really labeled their relationship rather keeping it loose and whatever they want it to be. Steve is one for keeping his hands on Eddie, so he obliges letting Steve fall into his lap. Steve's head falls gently into the curve of Eddie's shoulder. "You know you might wanna give me a warning next time you wanna get into my lap Stevie," Eddie murmurs as he shifts under the weight of his lover.

Steve groans, whispering in Eddie's ear, "Bite me!" Eddie without restraint moves latching onto Steves neck with vengeance and sucking, licking, and finally biting Steve. With Steve like this in Eddie's lap, there's nothing he can do not that he wants to go anywhere else. Steve moans. Loving the feeling of Eddie's teeth on his skin.

"Not what I meant… but you know keep… keep going." Steve feels Eddie smirks against his skin, kissing the wounds he's caused. "Of course whatever you want Stevie," Eddie murmurs before returning to his lover's neck and leaving a few more precious loves bites behind in his wake.

Completed on: 04/28/23

Posted on: 05/01/23

The Adults- @yourfavdummy @mothermirkwood

[baconcolacan]

Having claimed that both tom and tord arent kin to spicy food, but would still eat it out of spite makes me imagine them getting into a competition with eachother, probably young and stupid, i wonder who'd be the first to give up

I was re-reading the small stay oneshot u wrote (where tord found tom sleeping in his office after overworking himself) and i couldn't help but question, at the moment where tord whined and i quote "my love i am so sorry for neglecting you!! please let me still call you my love" (While tom kept worrying over someone seeing them) how would paul and pat react, hearing their leader saying such things were they somehow still there, worse yet, what if they went to investigate?What would Tom do had he seen them via camera/VR?

Hey bud! Sorry I took a while to get to this but I'll answer them under the cut as some of the questions have fic spoilers ^^ Starting with the asks here Here we go!

Tord would be the first to give up. He grew up with a more salt-savory oriented palette while Tom at least had to try out a few spicy foods due to his mom being fond of them. So Tom doesn't like it out of experience and Tord doesn't like them for lack thereof.

IF Paul or Pat heard that they would DEFINITELY think that Tord was in some sort of secret relationship. Knowing protocol, they would try to get as far away as possible because its a safety measure, at this point Tord's paranoia would have rubbed off on them, so they would immediately go for plausible deniability. BUT if they only heard his distress and couldn't make out the exact words, therefore leading to them investigating. If Tom saw them approaching on the cams, he would immediately shut Tord up with a kiss, and use his momentary placation to say 'Sorry love' and kick him off him with all his strength. This would most likely lead to Tord getting thrown into a wall well before Paul or Pat gets to Tom's office. "Red Leader?! THOMPSON?! What the hell happened!!" "We got into a fight." "THIS EARLY?!" They leave it at that, albeit frustrated that the two of them had one of their daily squabbles at 2 in the morning.

Hilarson would probably try but he wouldn't have his resources or allies at that point. He would panic of course, as his charge had been taken to the very place they spent so much time and effort getting him away from. He'd probably find a way to get to him, maybe even meet with the Odense rebellion.

Hmmm, well, this wouldn't be realistic as why would they both be there? But I would assure you that they'd be a bit scared and panicked for Tom, both would probably try to stop him from hurting himself, but at this point, Tom would have been too out of his mind to recognize them, so it would end up really bloody for everyone.

The cancer thing actually didn't happen in Stay ^^ Tom loses his eyesight as a result of the bomb that caused Tord to also lose his arm. The explosion really fucked up all four of them, but Tord had thought that Edd had died, and so only saved Tom and Matt. Though, during Tom's recovery stages, Tord had cried his heart out asking for his forgiveness behind closed doors. He spent a lot of time in Tom's hospital room, just holding his hands.

This is a funny story actually. I was well into getting back into EW around this time, so it was occupying most of my thoughts. Then I had a, lets say, unfortunate maybe supernatural maybe might not be experience while I was away at college. My father used to say that our family was cursed, and that he brought it with him when he moved to where we live now, and that I had to always be careful because things liked to latch on to our clan. So anyway thats where the idea came from lmao, I was getting my monthly haunting and I just figured I'd write about a story like that for a fandom I liked.

Oh and AHAHHA NAWW THANK YOU, I dont get tired of hearing it, and while that sounds like a massive ego trip, I just really REALLY appreciate the kind words you all seem to never stop giving me ^^ Though dont idolize me too much lmao, Im really just a sleep deprived artist rotting in my work desk.

[thegreatfraud]

It was always gonna end one way

In a ditch and so close to death as Huey luck finally ran out.

Everybody lose sooner or later. No matter how good Huey is. At the end of the day he just some dude with a wooden sword and powers don't work as it was a knife wound to the shoulder and a shot to the back from a bloody CHILD that caught him off guard. The kick to the bottom of the ditch as hell don't help as luckily the kids not a professional or he wouldn't even have time to realize what happened.

Street gangs using bloody CHILDREN to get back at him. Huey sigh as the kid being green helped him survive this. He can...MAYBE get up and climb out this ditch. With effort and a lot of pain. He gonna have to push himself harder then before in this city. Them blood lost not a joke,

But why should he?

What the point in all this? The struggling and the fighting for life. Not like you have anyone you love. Your partner gone. You friends are gone. Your business idea is ruin and your alone. Why fight so hard?

You should just die. You know better then anyone you been nothing but a nuisance. The Radiale be better without you in it. Your a killer and a liar. They either celebrate your death or don't give a shit. You desire to make your name stick in this city a joke.

"I can call Eidan." He a nice guy. Sure he don't like me. But he come and at least drop me off to the nearest hospital...

You really think he want to help you? After your black mailing? Nobody want you around Huey. Why struggle in this city without meaning? Just embrace it. The cold. The emptiness...maybe you can see William again. You never dies here yet have you?

"I have people that rely on me."

NPC who lives will continue even without you in the story. Your run a bloody smuggling ring and dish out justice to the highest bidder for christ sake. Your not running a thing people will miss. So what is the point of Huey Ponzi? Why struggle when your life have no meaning to it? It be much easier to die.

What is the point of Huey?

Huey realize his strength sapped half way out of the ditch as he lay on his back just a little to catch his breath. Damn he should have got a full lunch. What is the point? Not like he got anything to live for. Why climbs up the hill when there nothing waiting for you in the end? You have no love, no friends, no family, no job.

Your a loser and nothing. Even Aury at least have Klaus. You die as intended. A nobody in some random ditch in the middle of nowhere nobody would miss.

Huey close his eyes. Maybe it is better to just let the system do it's thing. Maybe it's just.....Better to give up.

Yet the body refuse even when the mind fails. Even if his ego is almost nonexistent....the Id refuse to give up on him.

A memory of cuddling with the weapons from another world who accepted him and his ugly side.

A memory of drinking with a friend who raised as a terriost.

Even if they are not here anymore. It wasn't all bad. Even if he have nobody now. The time they had was real. He HAVE made real bonds.

The memory of two brother sharing a drink in a dingy bar after the younger brother first returned job success. A precious memory. Of party, loud music, good food and good people, Money was thrown everywhere as it was the first time in a long time Huey felt alive.

Chasing down evil, taking from evil, spending money with people he love...the never ending party. It's not about making the world a better place. It's about having fun with people while pissing off the standard. The riches? The riches come and go all the time.

Huey eyes shot wide open. Strength returning back tot he limbs as he climb painfully.

Even if there no meaning he want to carry on. It's human nature to persist. Huey might be giving up in his head but his soul refuses.

"Lifes not always about the gleaming success...remember how many of our jobs we scarp by the skin of our teeth? You don't always get to look cool. In this work of ours we're not here to be liked or understood. Remember that first brief case of cash for that old lady? We tried being thief because when we took from those who have their dreams stolen. We were happy weren't we? It was fun. This isn't like last time. I'm not Robin hood. I care more about who I'm hurting then the victims. Because we never seen what we do as heroics. I'm selfish, egotistical bastard. If it helps someone by accident that fine. I came back because one job stealing from mobster was more fun then 3 years of studying for a boring ass exam."

My justice the thing that killed you after all William. That hunger for justice killed you. My obsession with bringing good into this world with our work. I promised myself i never once again wave the flag of righteous. What a joke....thieves claiming to be chivalrous. Yet i still don't wanna robbed from those who don't have it. There no joy in robbing from those who dreams are stolen.

I am a lowly maggot. I only steal because i want to steal. It's not just because i care. It's because above all else i chase the thrill. I forgotten that.

"Yeah there nobody in the Radiale that miss me when i'm gone. But..."

Even if there is no meaning to it now. Even if it's painful and lonely i wanna continue to struggle as a boring lowly human being.

"For the greatest victory. That impossible jack pot. Let's win William. Let's finally win for once and big time in this city. It make all this worth it no? That one moment of absolute victory. Let our story be forever told here. Even if the start of the story is a confusing, self pitying frustrating mess. Let's just keep going till we win."

That one moment when you win it all. When nobody bet against you and you win it all. So what if your a loser nobody with no bonds and no meaning to you? Oh it sucks for sure now.

You persist. You keep going for that final win. When you can win it all. You put up whatever mask it is to hide the truth. Faking it till you make it. Turning one lies into reality.

Hope. Even if you don't believe in it. You keep lying to yourself and putting in more effort till one day with hope comes victory.

"Oh.....i finally made it to the top."