#i'm desperate gang

[nezumithewriter]

guys help i've jumped down a rabbit hole i can't get out of

Does anyone have ANY information on the cancelled, lost film, "The Secret of Zhu?" More specifically, does anyone know why it was cancelled?

(if you somehow also have footage outside of the four minutes on the splash website or trailer I'd like that too)

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[zeus-japonicus]

Hello pirate friends! Those of you who know me through Rusty Quill's Trice Forgotten know that I love to write queer and trans Asian pirates destroying colonies with science and also homoerotic swordfighting.

If you like those things in combination with radical, genre-devouring new science-fiction musicals created as a "fuck you" to the white men who've made millions casting East and Southeast Asians as barbarians and lotus flowers, look no further than ASIAN PIRATE MUSICAL!

APM is created by a group of 6 trans/genderqueer/female artists from across diasporas including Malaysia, the Philippines, Jamaica, Japan, Thailand and New Zealand. We love musical theatre, but we want fun, epic adventure stories written by us, about us and casting us. For tone, think the queer humour of Our Flag Meets Death meets the political world-building of The Expanse, with an experimental, orchestral blend of traditional instruments, 21st century Asian pop and indierock.

Here's a bit of a call-to-arms for us as we need some help giving this project its sea-legs.

If you're in London, UK 21-22nd November 2024, we're having a 2-day CONCERT at the Pleasance Theatre. Tickets are £14 and we need to sell out to break even ( ;; yay theatre) Click here to buy tickets.

We want everyone to be able to access this show for free, online. To do that we're recording a studio cast album (think Hadestown's early demo albums, or the EPIC! musical). We've currently got a crowdfunder going, and any donation - however small - is much appreciated. We're at £1,265/£5,000 and that just covers basic costs. Click here to go to the crowdfunder.

If you don't have the ability to financially contribute at this time, we would super appreciate any kind of social media help -> sending people who might be interested our way, reblogs/retweets and shares on Instagram/Tiktok go an incredibly long way in the development of musicals. We're @ AsianPirateMus in most places.

If you want to learn more about Asian Pirate Musical, including more songs and our social media links, please head over to this linktree and follow us where you can!

If you made it this far, thank you! Here's our asian-pop inspired ballad in which we make a historical old man have homoerotic thoughts and feelings for his Emperor.

[syncrovoid-presents]

Alastor's Deal (Thoughts, Theories, and some Predictions)

This won't answer the who, but aims to dig into the why, and plausibly narrow down the terms of the deal. Long post ahead!

Evidence

First off, the finale was incredible! But what Alastor's song showed was that his ""death"" against Adam wasn't entirely a surprise, but rather planned. Alastor's song revealed that he was looking for a loop in the contract, a way to slip past the deal without having to directly break it. He already made a deal with Charlie for a favour, but that might have been a safety net of sorts, something to guarantee himself a fighting chance if his "dying for the hotel" plan failed.

His surprise was at how fast it happened, not that he nearly died. Alastor craves control, he wears his smile for control, he makes deals for control, his magic highly influenced by controlling others too. His Modus Operandi is control, and he faced the battle it started with him being in control. He was outwitting Adam, he was faster, sneakier, even kept his hands behind his back while dodging just to show how little effort it took. But Adam's weapon sending an angelic beam of power? That wasn't in his plan, that wasn't in his control.

Control is something Alastor seeks over everything, which is why the deal is so brutal for him. The deal takes control from him, and his constant smiling and jokes and contained urges for violence is him trying to have some sort of freedom. It's highly implied that, unless it's for the hotel, he hasn't used his magic for his own reasons. He hasn't eaten or killed anyone unless it is for the hotel, and even that was implied to happen only during the Mimzy incident. He hasn't gotten to make any deals either, at least no real deals, no deals for souls.

I'm far from the first one to say that his deal is forcing him to help the hotel, but it's only now that we see the true extent. Alastor's entire personality, goals, and being has been changed against his will. He is now a tool for the hotel, the sword and shield, the magical provider, bringing them whatever they need to succeed despite the odds. Without him, it would just be Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust. Sir Pentious wouldn't have joined, repairs would've taken far longer, the staff would've been just Charlie and Vaggie, et cetera. Even his deals are just him trying to gain something out of helping the hotel.

Alastor is bound to the hotel and his powers are also bound to the hotel. He cannot be selfish, he cannot do anything unless it's for the hotel no matter how desperately he wants to do otherwise. And yet it seems like his powers are limited too.

Alastor has immense levels of powers, so much that he was taking down a large portion of the angel army single handedly. Had Adam not been there, it's not outlandish to claim that Alastor could have taken down the angel army by himself. This is why he was feared. This is why "no one crosses the radio demon". If these are his powers when their limited, imagine just how powerful he truly is?

The last evidence I'll state before moving on is that Alastor didn't return back to the hotel until it was rebuilt, yet still didn't use his magic to cause chaos.

To simplify, on his end the deal forces him to use his immense power for the benefit of the hotel. He cannot actively do anything to bring harm to it, and he cannot use his magic unless it's for the good of the hotel. And he cannot escape from the deal if the hotel is destroyed, so the deal isn't about the physical hotel, but rather the concept of it. As long as the hazbin hotel exists in the heart of those involved, Alastor is bound to help.

Why?

Now the why? I believe that, whoever he made the deal with him was, they want the hotel to succeed. Not only that, I believe that by forcing Alastor to stay there and help while limiting his capability for violence, they are also trying to rehabilitate Alastor.

Wherever Alastor was before the hotel opened, it was somewhere where he couldn't interact with anyone. He was forced to be gone, only until the hotel opened. If the theories of Alastor making a deal with Lilith is true, then Lilith's character is important to consider. From what we know she is powerful and worked to bring dekonkind together. And that she too disappeared 7 years ago.

It's confirmed that Alastor destroyed many of the worse evils that existed in hell, the only ancient overlords that remain are civil and take part of overlord meetings. They are controlled, contained. There's more structure, and the only truly out of control, dangerous demon to remain would have been Alastor. It's possible that Lilith realized that she could use him to "clean up hell", waiting her time until Alastor was the last remaining biggest threat. That was when she pounced, seven years ago to capture him in a deal. We don't know why he would accept such a limiting deal, but I'd wager that it could have been for his life (either she was threatening him, or he nearly died and made a deal for his life).

Now that the deal is made, Alastor can't bring mindless chaos. If anything he is doing the most to help demons be saved from the extermination either through redemption or protection (we also didn't see him prior to the last, so perhaps he's also bound to protect during the extermination too?).

All while Alastor is handling and ensuring the success of the largest and most helpful demon-centered support system, Lilith is on vacation. Almost like Alastor is acting in her role, a mimicry of a spiritual successor of sorts. He's helping rally the demons together, helping shape Charlie into a better leader, helping prove demons can be redeemed. All while Alastor is either witness, participant, or manager of the strategies used to redeem sinners. Alastor is only a few steps away from taking part of the redemption program himself.

If Alastor's deal was with Lilith, then she's getting everything she could want. All the uncontrollable evils/overlords destroyed, a muzzle on (one of the most) powerful sadistic demons, someone to help guide her daughter, help demons redeem themselves, protection for her citizens from being killed or further tortured, and she finally gets a vacation. She'd be getting everything she could want, with the bonus of possibly rehabilitating Alastor in the process.

It's no wonder Alastor is so desperate to break out of the deal, to find a backdoor in the contract. This goes against everything he stands for. The stories of him broadcasting screams? Of killing overloards and owning soul after soul after soul? That is the real him, and it isn't exaggerated. If Alastor wasn't chained, he'd have the power and strength to destroy large swaths of hell himself. If he decided to do his own extermination with angelic weapons? He could kill as many demons as the angels do and more, because he wouldn't be limited by a single day period.

If his deal is with someone else? We simply don't have enough information yet to name them then. Whoever it is, they would have to believe in demonkind's potential for improvement, and possibly fear what Alastor is able to do.

Predictions

The last thing I want to touch upon is how Alastor might be able to escape the deal. First is what he tried, which is "dying" for the hotel. Or, more precisely, for everyone involved in the hotel, it was as if he died, so why would they still depend on him?

Next would be for the hotel to be destroyed, and considering that we don't know if Alastor was briefly free while he recovered or if he was just hiding out somewhere new because he couldn't stay in the hotel because it didn't exist, this one is still iffy. If part of his deal is staying at the hotel to actively protect it, the he was temporarily freed from that condition. Yet once it was rebuilt Alastor returned, proving that the destruction of the hotel building wouldn't free him.

The next possible way could be the death of the hazbin hotel spirit. If Alastor (or outside forces) were able to destroy Charlie's hope for the hotel just like Lucifer's dreams were crushed, perhaps Alastor would be freed. Considering how the finale went, it would take a lot for this to happen.

My final idea, and the one I predict will happen, is that Alastor outfits the person he made the deal with. He doesn't find a true "out", but rather will manipulate them into giving his power back. And this? I believe that Alastor's deal with Charlie was made for this reason.

If indeed the deal was with Lilith, and part of the deal seems to be ensuring Charlie's dreams come true, then Charlie is a delightful way for Alastor to manipulate the situation. How? Who knows, but I think that this will be a large part of the conflict of season 2.

[waffulaa]

vocaloid 2009 if i went back and moved a chair

[godduh]

i am so normal about them (i'm not)

[the-blossica-fan]

I was thinking. Vertin creates Sharpodonties in the Wilderness. Does this mean it follows the rules of a small nation?

Or is Vertin accidentally committed the crime of what is basically using bad checks due to the money made was in the Suitcase?

Are Sharpodonties the same inside and outside the suitcase? Is Vertin aware of this? Will Jessica and Blonney finally have a 10 minute long unskippable cutscene of them making out?

What's your take, may I ask, hm? c:

I- when I tell you I had a whiplash the moment I read the last thing I am not kidding. Let's start with the possibility of criminal acts in the wilderness regarding money.

I think it's a crime basically, like printing your own money but since sharpodontry is probably like a coin (I haven't used coins in years idk if they're like bills) no one notices.

NO ONE outside of the suitcase can know about this, they make their own money and beat the loving shit out of critters (and some dudes) for some Dust & Sharpodontry.

They'd probably be the same as outside so they can go around buying whatever they want with that, but they do have to work for extra money since the suitcase at this point is a small town. Get to work you dumbass you're not gonna get extra money this way (work is just fighting)

So, yeah, Vertin is a criminal printing money in the town she rules alongside some criminals. Constantine better not know about this shit.

...As for the 10 minute unskippable scene... God do I wish it could happen 😔

I miss my kids I can't keep living off of the crumbs they give to us in their official art. I NEED THEM ON SCREEN 😭

Oh God do I wish they could kiss onscreen even if it's just implied (like Schneider and Vertin), I would unironically be blushing & kicking my feet.

I miss them so much I could bite someone

[moe-broey]

Man. I do love when the character is Scared and fucking MAD ABOUT IT. Going from crying and cowering to snapping and biting the MOMENT a hand is extended to them. Trying to help them or otherwise just work with them somehow and the entire fucking time they're kicking and screaming and complaining and being disparaging and stuck up and just kind of a brat about it. ASSUME HARMFUL INTENT BY DEFAULT, get THEM before they GET YOU‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ And NEVER trust a helping hand ESPECIALLY when it feeds you.

[coolauntlilith]

Every now and then I replay the first episode of VLD and I wonder why I thought it be a good show lol

[papasmistakeria]

They’d really add Boimler and Mariner (two characters from WAY in the future) in SNW and still refuse to have an Enterprise episode

[greedbent]

no listen you guys you have no idea how hard it is to resist also writing wylan here bc

[your-mommy-ems]

Wait.

Wait.

Since you guys all ganged up on me in my last attempt at this (i'm trying so desperately to get out of it)

If this post gets 10,000 (is that big enough for you?) notes before Christmas.

I'll finish:

my enemies to lovers fantasy

my hockey, fake dating romance

AND my YA high school romance

I swear - if you pull the overnight shit again

Edit: stop it.

Edit: Guys seriously stop

Edit: its been one day and you've already got it over 1000?

Edit: I take it back - stop - 2000 in two days? - stop it.

Edit: This isn't funny anymore. stop

Edit: I'm seriously regretting this now. ugh

[fictionalsweethearts]

THE COMMISSION PT. 4 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, epilogue.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw, nsfw, smut, fingering omgg

If you're underage, be responsible and don't consume smut content. I AIN'T YOUR MAMA TO SPANK YOUR ASS.

Word count: 5,384 (yes, things HAPPEN in this chapter)

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Two years earlier

"I'm fine." Sevika murmured, in a tone that could scare anyone away. Except you.

Third day in a row you slept in Zaun's main square, you were cold and your stomach was asking for a more substantial dish than the cookies you could afford. You smelled of street, oil and rain, you were risking everything to get some money and sleep under a roof today.

Many warned you about Sevika, it was better not to mess with her or even show your nose, unless you were proposing a card game, a business or you were a lady-in-waiting. You were none of the three, but you trusted what your hands and your tools were capable of. You held the toolbox, keeping an upright posture even though inside you feared ending up in a dumpster or bleeding to death in the middle of the Last Drop.

"Your arm seems to need a checkup." You insisted. "I know the model, I assume you've had it for about five years, yeah?"

Sevika frowned, putting down the cards and letting out a puff of smoke. She didn't look convinced, more irritated. You insisted.

"I don't charge much."

Sevika flicked her eyes up and down your form, her expression stern. She had seen you before - a street rat, hanging around the less salubrious parts of the city. You were skinny, dirty, and reeked of poverty. You had no business approaching her, let alone with such audacity.

"And what makes you think you can fix it?” she scowled, her voice as harsh as sandpaper. "You some kind of mechanic?”

"Yes." you said, noticing the way Sevika was studying you. You couldn't call her out, you had to swallow your pride in order to swallow a decdent meal later, if everything goes right. "I used to work at Benzo's pawn shop, fixing unused appliances. I brought fine pieces back to life." you said, your eyes flickering to Sevika's mechanic arm. "Like yours."

Certainly Sevika was not pleased with your audacity, she was forced to answer for Silco to idiots, drug addicts, gang members and murderers, so you were just another one to add to the list.

"Used to?" she grunted, her eyes narrowing as she took another drag on her cigarette. "What, you get fired or something?"

"He's dead." you reminded her, knowing damn well Silco's goons were behind that.

Yes, you were bretraying yourself and your past by turning to Sevika to offer your services, but your situation wasn't getting any better. Not with a dead father, an absent mother, and debts to deal with. You should have known better, gambling leads to no good, neither does the air of Zaun. You fell victim to both, the first killed your father, the second probably killed your mother, you weren't sure. And the debt collectors were breathing down your neck.

She eyed you for a moment longer, her gaze weighing your worth. You were desperate, that much was obvious. And she couldn't help but see an opportunity in that. "Alright," she grunted, her voice gruff. "Let's say I let you take a look. What's it gonna cost me?"

You huffed, you were losing dignity there. "A meal." you shrugged. "And a sip of whiskey if you're feeling generous. But I assure you, I do a fine job."

"You'll get your meal and your shot of whiskey," she grumbled, knwoing she would regret giving you a chance. "But if you don't do a damn good job, I'll rip your pretty little head off."

"My head will stay above my shoulders..." you stated. "And your arm, brand new." you added.

Sevika raised her eyebrows, giving the guard a signal to let you come over and take a seat next to her on the couch. You had little time to prove that your offer was not talk but fact. You opened the toolbox, taking out a screwdriver to begin taking apart the arm and separating the pieces. The supply of Shimmer on top seemed novel, but predictable. You knew what to do

As you progressed with your work, Sevika's first impression about you began to crumble. Beneath the hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes was a beautiful girl intent on her task, with attentive eyes, deft fingers, and latent confidence. The woman then began to ask questions, hoping to intimidate you.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-six."

"So young, and already out on the streets?" she grunted, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "What, your parents throw you out or something?"

"They're dead." you mumbled. Sevika was holding her card with her flesh hand, still gambling while you were attending her prosthetic arm.

Your confession did not move her, having parents alive and present in Zaun was a privilege. However, her curiosity only increased. "Orphan?"

"You could say so." you said, glancing at the disassembled parts, studying the system of Sevika’s arm. The thermal paste needed changing, luckily you had some on you, the seals needed oil too, and some of the gears could use replacing.

"So you're just a street rat then," she said bluntly. "No family, no friends, nowhere to call home."

"Rat." you huffed. "I'm prettier than that." you might have been hungry, skinny and dirty, but you were a lot smarter and prettier than a goddamn rat.

"Maybe," she smirked. "But you still smell worse than one."

As Sevika took the time to mock you, your eyes were split between the arm and the opponents' play. You were sure that Sevika was taking a big risk by continuing to allow the cuprier to keep adding cards to the deck. "Stand," you whispered. "You're too close."

Sevika raised her eyebrow, planning to ignore you, however your comment didn't seem to be wrong. She let out a sigh before raising her hand to the cuprier. With that, the man turned over his cards. "Seventeen." The man said, to which you looked with pleased eyes at Sevika's nineteen.

"Agh, for fuck's sake." groaned one of the opponents, losing the bet. Blackjack was quite unpredictable, but you advised Sevika well; she hit the jackpot.

She chuckled, turning to look at you with a mix of surprise and respect. "Well then, not bad," she said, her voice gruff but impressed. "You really know your stuff."

"The rat's useful." you mumbled. "I have a name, though."

"I haven't asked your name." she replied, as she placed her just won chips on the pile.

"I rather you to remember the quality of my work than my name." you stated, assembling the arm back on Sevika. You turned the last screws, applied oil to the parts, and finally inserted the supply of Shimmer into the shoulder compartment, clicking your tongue. "Set and done, miss."

As the arm connected to her system, Sevika immediately noticed the fluidity of the gears and the restored sensitivity of the metal fingers. She flexed her arm and stretched it out, looking at you with a half-smile. It was all she would give you, along with an, "And here I thought I would rip your head off."

Before you could accept the praise wholeheartedly, there was this sudden commotion in the club. Another bastard too immersed in Shimmer to contain himself had entered, knocking out the guards with just the touch of a hand, and actually, knocking down everything in his path.

Fuck.

Sevika tensed, eyes flickering to the situation. She recognized the signs of a Shimmer-induced maniac, and knew damn well the trouble that could follow.

"Gods," she growled under her breath. "Not this bastard again."

Sevika quickly rose from her seat, her eyes watching the Shimmer-fueled maniac with a steely glare. It was only a matter of time before he would turn his attention to the rest of the bar, and Sevika knew she had to act fast. One of the other players had already fled, hiding behind the wall near the bar. The other stood frozen in fear, unable to speak or move. But you remained calm, your eyes on Sevika, awaiting her next move.

Sevika looked more irritated than alert, she moved her mechanical arm and walked towards the purple beast in front of her, her bearing filling the entire place, her confidence latent. You watched the fight unfold with a smile, the arm worked like a charm and there was no denying that you did a great job, especially when Sevika pulled the opponent’s leg against her and her elbow landed on the knee joint, bending the limb at an unnatural angle, followed by a punch capable of sending him flying through the air and landing in front of the bar. You drank from her glass, watching the guards carry the unconscious opponent away and Sevika letting out a sigh. The music began playing again.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, and by then you had realized that it was a habit of hers, and before scolding you for your attitude and your audacity in drinking from her glass, the woman called for the waiter. "Bring the girl dinner, and a glass of whiskey." she mumbled.

"I like it with soda," you added, smiling pleased from the couch.

Sevika rolled her eyes. "With soda," she said.

When you had already filled your stomach and calmed your nerves with a good whiskey, Sevika reappeared through the door. She had disappeared during your dinner, but returned to the room with a small bag of coins between her fingers and a less cold look than before; you could read the ambition on her face.

"For the arm repair," Sevika said, placing the pouch next to you on the table. To it, she added a small card with an address and the Silco symbol on the bottom, known as the "Eye of Zaun."

You knew that card was your golden ticket.

"This..." she said lowly. "Is a way to keep yourself fed and off the streets, if you're interested."

As you nodded, Sevika leaned in to whisper in a tone that made you shudder. Her scent of tobacco wafted into your nose, her closeness overwhelming. "Report to this address tomorrow at 8. Not a single minute later. We'll talk business when the time comes."

"Yes, ma'am." you said, making Sevika grin.

"Sevika." she said. "I am not into formality."

With that, she walked away, leaving you with a job opportunity and a pouch full of coins.

You did it. You fucking did it.

And tomorrow you would prove that your actions weren't just talk but pure merit. You counted the coins, it was enough for a hotel room and half of what you owed Horner. You smiled, he's always been good faking a Shimmer overdose.

As the days went by, you went from rat to girl. You met Silco, you closed a deal for private services to the organization, you took care of the maintenance of machinery, clothing and weapons. You were a full-time worker, you spent your hours within the four walls of the workshop, living off of coffee, bread, fruit and whiskey. Sevika watched you from the beginning, it was the task that Silco had entrusted to her; "Keep an eye on the girl, make her work and keep her mouth shut."

And that's what you did.

When the time came, you went from girl to mechanic. The workshop was not only your workplace, but your temple. Silco allowed you to accept external orders, you began to build a business that not only gave you autonomy, but also colored your cheeks, filled out your muscles and gave you the beauty that poverty had taken from you.

It was then that you went from mechanic to sweetheart. And Sevika forced herself to keep her distance, but the numerous appointments to check her arm, the jokes, the glances and the talks had loosened this armor against you. Now you ate full dinners, steaks, roasted vegetables, drank lemonade and replaced coffee with Shimmer, with Sevika as your only provider.

That was her mistake.

She thought she had done you a favor by providing you the doses. You worked better, your efficiency was through the roof, your performance impeccable. But that night, seeing you unconscious on the floor of her office, surrounded by paramedics and pale as snow, Sevika knew that you ended up like this because of her.

Her fault. Her damn fault.

"You've allowed this." said Silco, dragging from his cigar. He seemed quite unbothered by the situation, considering your incident as another problematic worker that couldn't control herself. All businesses have causalities, however, this wasn't just any. "She wasn't supposed to be at your office."

Your inert eyes, the way your body lay languid, a purple substance coming out of the corner of your mouth as if your insides were melting, the paramedics trying to revive a being whose life was hanging by a thread. It was a nightmare.

"She's dead." The paramedic said.

Dead.

Dead.

You died for her.

Because of her.

"Ah!" Sevika sat up suddenly, a drop of sweat wetting the back of her neck when her eyes landed on the halo of moonlight that was leaking through the window. She had dreamed of the accident again.

She wiped the sweat from her neck with a quick gesture and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Just a dream, she told herself, just a damn dream.

Sevika didn't even stop to put her mechanical arm on, which was resting next to her bed, but left the room at a quick pace and uncovered your sleeping figure on the living room couch.

You were fine.

You were curled up on the couch, your bandaged wrist resting next to your face, serene and calm. Your breathing reminded Sevika that you were still alive, even though you threatened to die on the old wooden floor of her office a month ago. But you were too stubborn to die from an overdose. You shifted in your spot, the breeze biting at your skin in the absence of the blanket over you, and when you opened your eyes you found the immense silhouette of Sevika before you. You screamed.

Sevika winced at your sharp cry, her hand reaching out instinctively to cover your mouth, to silence the sound before it echoed through the apartment.

"Shhh!" she hissed, her eyes darting towards the main door. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she was murdering someone in there.

"Quiet, quiet," she whispered, her hand still firmly over your mouth. "You'll wake the whole damn block with that shrieking."

Your heart skipped a beat before connecting two coherent thoughts and realizing it was Sevika. The woman pulled her hand away. "Fuck, don't stand in front of me like that again," you gasped. "I thought it was the grim reaper."

She took a step back, giving you some breathing room. "Believe me, he must have more important things to attend to," she said, her voice still low. "Just came to check on you. Didn't mean to scare you like that."

You sat up, reaching out to turn the oil lamp on. Sevika was still on her tank top and boxers, it was unusual to see her without the prosthetic arm. "I'm fine." you said. "You could've came to check in the morning, damn... what time it is?" you asked.

It's three," she replied, her tone still hushed. "Go back to sleep, girl. I just... wanted to make sure you were alright."

The lamplight outlined Sevika's silhouette, you could see the sweat on her neck and a certain pallor on her face. You assumed it was another nightmare, you already knew about them, but you avoided bringing them up because every time you did, she would shut you up with an "I'm fine, girl, go to sleep."

You watched her walk towards the balcony, a pack of cigarettes in her hand and a deep sigh leaving her lips. When she had the cigarette between her lips, you were suddenly beside her, lighting it up. “What’s really going on?” you asked.

"Can't a woman just enjoy her smoke in peace?" she grumbled, taking a drag from the cigarette. But there was no real malice in her voice, just a touch of weariness. She leaned against the balcony railing, the metal cool beneath her bare arm.

You sighed, coming up against a wall again. Sevika was impenetrable, so much so that you didn't know what was going through her mind unless she said it, and you could certainly assume it had to do with her nightmares, but you didn't dare to intrude on her fears. Still, you stayed next to her on the balcony, your stomach aching as the first sign of withdrawal.

The first few days were atrocious, you trembled and vomited every hour, you believed that dying was more pleasant than enduring such nausea and fits of anger and pain. However, Sevika stood firm by your side, brought you to her apartment and such a nurse, kept track of your symptoms and silenced them with the medicines the doctor had prescribed you. More than once, she stayed next to you on the couch, talking to you about trivialities or reading a book until the sleeping pill took effect and you could sleep. Only then did Sevika allow herself to stroke your forehead and relive the guilt of the accident.

Sevika had lived long enough to witness the effects of Shimmer on people. It didn't just destroy wills, it destroyed bodies and minds. The mutations from overuse of Shimmer were morbid and grotesque, luckily you didn't experience any, but that didn't make seeing you on the office floor, languid, pale, with your eyes open any less terrifying. Silco saw Sevika lose her temper for the first time in his life.

"I shouldn't have let you take those doses," she finally muttered, the words coming out with a hint of gravel in her voice. "I should've found a different way. This..." she gestured to you, the signs of her failure still lingering in the bags under your eyes and the scars along your arms, "...this is on me. My fault."

So that's what it was all about; guilt. Sevika had learned to take the blame for other people, to take responsibility for other people's mistakes, and this time was no different. Yes, she made a mistake by giving you doses of Shimmer for two years, but you were the one who decided to relapse. And you took all the blame. "Nobody forced me to relapse that day, Sevika." you stated. "And nobody could've stopped me neither, not even you."

For a moment, she was quiet, mulling over your words, the smoke from her cigarette spiraling up into the night air.

“You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, girl,” she said finally, the vulnerability in her tone betraying her gruff exterior. “I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

"We both know that a worker isn't taken care of the way you take care of me," you stated, your words implying more than what they said.

"You've never been a mere worker for me," she stated, letting out a puff of smoke, moving away into the air. Zaun was quiet, as if the city had stopped the day you nearly died. "Sometimes I can't stand you, you don't know when to back off."

You reached for her cigarette, taking a drag. "I never learned to back off."

“Of course, you didn’t,” she said, a note of resignation in her voice. “You’re as stubborn as they come. Should’ve known from the beginning that I’d have my hands full with you.”

And here you were, two years later, sleeping on her couch and making her coffee in the mornings, refusing to die without proving once again that you are many things, but not a street rat.

You had already settled into a routine. Sevika would leave early in the morning, usually returning at noon to check on you. You always waited for her with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, you started adding a touch of whiskey when you realized she liked it. You used to keep the apartment clean, read the books Sevika kept, play with her cards and sometimes take out your tools and make crafts or repair unused items, even though Sevika had forbidden you to work until you had recovered.

"Your recovery comes first, girl. Go easy."

Sometimes you found yourself chatting with her on the balcony, taking drags from her cigarette and oiling her mechanical arm, before daring to ask how her day was, absorbing her worries and whispering a "you always put up with too much, Sev" afterwads, only for her to shrug and light another cigarette. Being her tenant had allowed you to see Sevika in a much more intimate setting, without the need to maintain the impenetrable facade. You watched her sleep, yawn, train, and even cook; your favorite was the mushroom stew with enhacium powder. It was quite the meal, always leaving you with a heavy stomach and a pleasant drowsiness, although your tongue took the brunt of the sting of the powder. Sevika could feel you starting to itch as your cheeks colored, and with a smile, she would hand you the lemonade.

You were embarrassed to admit it, even more so considering that the overdose could have killed you, but you were grateful that circumstances led you to live with Sevika. Sometimes you wished you had done it sooner, but you remembered the way she reacted when you woke up in the hospital and regretted it.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, girl, understood? Never again." she said, agitated, holding your hand in hers.

You could never apologize enough to take the blame off Sevika's chest, so you just limited yourself to being a good roommate.

"Would you mind helping me with the painkiller?" you asked then, placing the cigarette between Sevika's lips. Despite having started the methadone treatment more than a month ago, it still gave you the shivers to handle the syringe.

"Of course," she said simply, her voice a mix of gruffness and understanding. "Let me do it."

You two sat down on the couch, Sevika holding the cigarette between her lips as she wrapped the elastic around your arm and tightened it. You didn’t admit it out loud, but ever since you’d been staying at Sevika’s apartment, your favorite time of day was when she helped you with the methadone. You loved the way her eyes focused on you, her thumb gently searching for your vein, commanding you to close your fist, then after piercing your skin, whispering “there you go,” pulling the needle back out before caressing the mark with her finger and purring “good girl.” She made you feel special, you were pampered by a woman who didn’t pamper anyone, and it was exhilarating in the most unusual way.

You thought you could take a thousand injections if it meant continuing to be Sevika’s good girl.

"Easy as pie," she said, her voice a rough whisper. "No pain, no drama." she added, disposing of the syringe in the trash can.

You watched her put out her cigarette in the ashtray, expecting her to sit next to you and wait for you to fall asleep like she always did. You had gotten used to hearing her voice by now. Just then, the first hit of the drug bathed you. It was always the strongest, however after a few weeks, the dose had decreased and only gave you a pleasant drowsiness.

"You're getting sleepy." she said. "Good."

Sevika watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, your body slumping back against the couch. The drug had done its work, a gentle drowsiness seeping into your limbs and calming your nerves. You felt an arm wrap around your waist, Sevika lifted you over her shoulder and carefully carried you to her bed. "It's too damn cold in the living room," was her excuse, even though you didn't ask for one. The bed was still warm, wide and the sheets smooth. Sevika wasn't lying when she said she prefers her whiskey neat and her bed soft.

She turned off the lamp, snuggling up to you, keeping a prudent distance that at the moment seemed ridiculous to you. "Do I scare you?" you teased her.

"Scare me?" she huffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Come closer then." you said, pushing your luck just enough. And Sevika seemed to give in.

You rested your head on her chest, allowing yourself to inhale her scent and feel the beat of her heart; it was slow, imposing, just like her. Sevika frowned, ignoring the urge to bury her nose in your hair and entwine her legs with yours. You heard her sigh, you were dozing off by then. "Rest, girl, you need it."

Sevika wasn’t the best early riser, but she woke up in a better mood that morning. A hand around your waist, her nose on your neck as if your scent alone had calmed all her nightmares, and it did. You were still asleep, comfortable and serene while she spooned you, unaware that Sevika pulled you close to her, taking in your cleavage from where she was; your shirt had shifted in the night, revealing more of your skin.

Look away, Sevika, get a grip.

Sevika sighed against your neck, knowing she was treading unfamiliar and inappropriate territory, but she couldn't help it. Her hand found the edge of your tank top, pulling it down just to reveal your breasts; smooth, tender and full.

No, she shouldn't, but... she wanted to? Absolutely.

Her lips found the sensitive area of your neck, trailing kisses and nips down to your shoulders and collarbone, daring to squeeze one of your tits between her fingers. You shifted on your place, the air biting on your bare chest managed to draw your attention and Sevika pulled her hands off, as if she was spooked of herself.

What the hell am I doing?

"Mhm..." you uttered, your hand seeking for Sevika's, bringing it back towards your chest. "Don't stop." you whispered, your eyes still closed.

Sevika gulped, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body as she reached out again, catching your breast between her fingers and massaging it gently, peppering kisses down your neck, your cheek, your shoulder. You felt her abdomen press harder against your back, you shifted your ass against her, half asleep but perfectly aware of what was happening, and you wouldn’t let her stop.

She grunted against your neck, her hand squeezing harder your breast. "Don't move," she growled softly, her breath hot against your ear. "Stay just like this."

You moaned, your hand reaching her cheek, urging her to touch you, to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered open as she ran her hand down your stomach, teasing your lower belly, down to your legs, the inner side of your thighs. "Sev..." you purred.

"I'm here," she whispered against your ear. "I've got you."

"Shit." you whimpered, your eyes shutting once she slipped her hand into your shorts, settling between your legs. That's all you needed to fully wake up. "Ah, god." you panted, feeling her fingers against your slick.

"You're so wet for me, aren't you?" she breathed against your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. She pressed kisses along your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "Yes, you are."

As much confidence Sevika showed, the truth was that inside she was shaking with fear. She was crossing a line she had imposed on herself when she met you two years ago, and she had never felt so out of control as she did now. It wasn’t just your moans, it was your scent, your heat, the idea that she was the one who gave you the opportunity that night at the club and now you were lying on her bed, squirming under her hand. She forged this situation from the moment she laid eyes on you, not knowing that you intended to end up in this position ever since she leaned in and her tobacco scent filled your nostrils. You intended to work for Sevika, to be her confidant, her best partner and above all… to become her weak point.

You pulled your head back, moaning as Sevika parted your legs and eased a finger inside you, licking your ear. "Sleeping on my couch, playing with my cards, wearing my clothes while I'm gone; all you've done to end up here." she mumbled, easing a second one, knowing you could take it.

"Yes, I... I did it." you whimpered, gripping the sheets between your fingers.

"You were testing me." she stated, biting on your neck. "Always pushing my buttons to see when I would give in."

You knew Sevika wasn't just playing around with you when she rubbed the heel of her hand against your clit, already swollen and sensitive for her. The room was filled with the obscene sound of your slick, your moans and Sevika's words. "Legs apart." she commanded. "You never learned to follow instructions, learn now." she said.

"Yes, ma'am." you whined, before Sevika chuckled.

"Didn't I tell you I'm not into formality?"

She could never forget the details of the time they met, no. Not when she was the one who saw you enter the club with your toolbox, your tired eyes, your steely confidence. Not when she was the one who asked Silco for a job opportunity for you and paid you with her own coins. Not when she chose you, for herself, from the first moment.

You were hers from the beggining, and somehow you knew it.

Her hand continued to work between your legs, her fingers moving expertly, making pleasurable heat pool in your belly. "You can pretend to be tough all you want, but when you're with me, you're not."

Your legs were locking around her hand, your breathing quick and ragged as Sevika sped up the motion of her fingers. Fuck, you were starting to shake, that tickling sensation settling in your stomach.

"You and your insolent mouth, your smug smile…" she whispered. "I wanted them for myself, I always did." You shifted, knowing that if Sevika had the mechanical arm on, she would already be choking you. However, you felt her move over you, trapping you against the mattress.

"Sevika… I'm…" you mewled, realizing you were on the very edge. "Huh, please..."

"I know." she smiled, as she laid above you, her hand firmly working on your throbbing pussy. "Now kiss me, pretty girl. Earn it."

You cupped her cheeks, kissing her as much as your moans would allow, tasting the tobacco on her tongue, her teeth between your lips. Sevika kissed like she walked, and that was saying a lot. You pulled back, realizing the trembling of your legs was the hint of an orgasm you couldn't contain. "Oh... god...!" you cried against her lips before you dove into the sensation.

And you melted.

Sevika leaned down to kiss your chin, your neck, totally in love with your whimpers and trembling lips, your smell of sweat, your juicy pussy. You barely rode the high when Sevika kissed your belly, a hand tracing fingers on your knee as her mouth hovered over your core. "I could lick it off of you, y'know?" she smirked.

You were in no position to ask or deny anything, but Sevika was in the perfect position to tempt you and play on your desire. “If only I didn’t have that meeting with Silco in…” she glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Ten minutes.”

Oh, no.

"Ten minutes is more than enough." you said, even though it sounded like a plea.

But Sevika chuckled, leaning to place a kiss on your lips. "I don't rush things when I eat a pretty girl out." she stated, leaving the bed.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, staring at Sevika with your lips apart. Unfazed, she took the mechanical arm and connected it to her shoulder, glancing at you with a rose brow.

"Wait for me with the coffee ready," she said, walking to the dresser to get ready. "I'll finish what I started, sugar, don't worry."

To be continued...

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias @sevikashairbrush @lipglosskxsses @chaosfieldflower @kairuvhen @moodient @izzy120 @bonemarrowstew @abbysunderwear @batman-2 @karmalovessimonriley @fandomsinthegalaxies @fudosl @femme-historian @poprostuhybryda-blog @kifuqe @xblinkx2 @tamikahoshiko @lia-winther @https-mika @armeenix @bambishaven @xblinkx2 @luvg1s3l1e @dopemusiccowboy @imheadintothemountains @lilithyys @soullessbody @lavendersgirl @lovesickdreamer @makaylaislovely @demonofpuns @celestialst4r @ilovehotd @emmanetalias @bethany-l87 @marah280 @srtuna @jannesyjane @victoriaanne9 @rottngrl3 @depressedqueersocialists @slut4sevika @fragilsnoopy @stmvivs @sillystarv @vyvvycg

Also, I haven't stopped to thank u all for your reception of this series. It makes me absolutely happy you girls like it so far! Thank u all <3

[dcxdpdabbles]

It's all Fun and Games Kids! Part 2

#HolidayRequests First off absolutely love your work and I'm so happy to show that by sending my support. I am not at all requesting all three just one of them. So dealer's choice. Congratulations! It's Triplets!, It's all Fun and Games Kids, or the Missing Half

Danny was buying some groceries when five armed men rushed in and demanded everyone to get on the ground. He stood by the milk, watching in fascination as the men gathered everyone near the back.

It didn't seem any of them were affiliated with big rouges, which could mean this was either a gang-related power grab or a couple of men looking for a quick buck.

They were likely taking hostages because they had messed up their big getaway and were now trying to make desperate leverage against law enforcement.

"I said get on the ground!" A man shouts behind Danny seconds before he is smacked with the butt of a gun. He hits the ground with a slight oof, but otherwise, he is okay. The same can't be said for his milk carton.

It splats in one large puddle, landing on the side and ripping a hole in the bottom corner. Hmm, that was a cheap carton. He should consider switching over to a different brand. He is then dragged to his feet and led towards a group of cowering people.

They were pushed against the vegetable bins and ordered to sit right under them so their backs were against the wood and the guards could limit their movement. It was brilliant, too, as being under the bins made it harder to see them for anyone attempting to rescue them.

Danny is shoved next to a trembling woman under the tomatoes, holding her hands against her mouth, muttering something low in Spanish. He doesn't know enough to translate what she says, but he figures it must be a prayer.

He offers her a smile. "First time?"

The look she sends him could have curdled dairy. He gives a small laugh, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. She returns to his prayers, and the two don't speak after that. Danny watches the armed men and realizes they're not new to this but aren't good at it.

These are the type of men who joined gangs for glory. The kind that would report violence at the drop of a hat and didn't care who they hurt in the process. Or worse, they enjoyed when they hurt people in the process, even if those people had nothing to do with them.

Danny frowns after a while, realizing that the men haven't looted them or emptied the cash registers. What were they after?

The store employees were all moved from the back of the store, their matching lime green uniforms an eye sore. They all wore the same horrified expressions as the group was forced to sit between the tomatoes and the onions.

The youngest one, a teenager who looked no older than eighteen, was wearing a black shirt with stripped lime lines, and Danny quickly figured out he was the manager. He was sobbing quietly, bruises on his face and around his neck indicating that the armed men had identified him as well.

Danny felt a spark of protective rage.

The manager sat beside Danny, so the Halfa scouted over, eyeing the men with the guns as he carefully slid his hand into the boy's palm. It was a testament to how scared the poor kid was when all he did was curl his fingers around his, tears rolling down his beaten face.

It made him wonder why, seeing as the other shoppers and employees did not have any indications that they had been attacked. It couldn't have been retaliation for trying to be a hero. No offense to the teenager, but he didn't strike Danny as someone brave or stupid enough to try to fight back.

If anyone, he looked more like someone who would hide in situations like these.

That's it. He realizes, watching how the men make head gestures at the manger. This isn't some off-chance hostage situation. This is a revenge plan. The kid's the target and these idiots are too low in command to realize it. No way they would have brought him out here if they did. Someone will come for him soon.

The teen had dark raven hair and the same pale skin as Danny, but his eyes were as black as coal compared to Danny's aqua blue. It might not work, but he was better equipped to handle whatever they threw at him until the bats or the police arrived.

He carefully lets go of the hand in his hold, running his fingers up the arm of the teen, keeping his eyes trained on the gunmen. He's doing it slowly, worried any sudden or fast moves will convince them to pull the triggers on their assault rifles.

The boy's breath hitches but thankfully doesn't blow their cover. The tremble in his limb has increased, and Danny wouldn't have felt bad about it had he not been on a time crunch. Eventually, his fingers brushed against the short sleeve of the manager's uniform.

"Listen carefully. You were just here to buy some groceries. You never worked here." He whispers, curling his fingers around the fabric and turning the polo shirt intangible. He pulls it right off the teenager's body in one quick swipe.

It slides off the boy's skin like water, and the second he slides it through him, Danny returns it to solid, letting it settle on top of his clothes. He quickly covers the teenager's naked chest with his own long-sleeve shirt, using the same method.

The boy's mouth drops, but he doesn't get a chance to respond before the armed men walk over to them. Danny pushes his head down, hoping to hide the bruises while hunting his own, using his hair to curtain his face.

Just in time, too, because the Halfa is yanked to his feet by two of the men, who sneer at him, and he lets the proper amount of whimpers when they backhand him and bang his head on the bin.

Danny is dragged out of the room while the third man threatens the people. He'll come back for them the second he has a chance.

"You thought you could hide in Gotham, Eric?" One of the men hisses, "After what your Daddy did? Half of my boys are rotting in cells for life because of him! "

Eric was likely in witness protection or had wronged a powerful man he shouldn't have. Maybe he was in an organized gang and had ratted someone out. There was no way Danny was letting these men get away.

They drag him towards the back, where a group of similarly dressed men and women are waiting. Glances at everything through his hair, wondering how long he had before someone realized they got the wrong person.

Maybe they wouldn't notice before they shoved him into the ain't oven; they were obviously planning on burning him in. Which would be the perfect place to shift into Phantom out of prying eyes. He had spent months chasing Batman as a regular love-stroke citizen.

He couldn't let all those dramatic swoons and pathetic flirtations go to waste by revealing he was a powerful meta now! Plus, how else would he be rescued by a hero if the man knew he could just do it himself?

He was forced to stand in the room with two guards gripping is his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Danny doesn't raise his gaze away from his shoes, so even though he knows someone is standing near the oven to give him a dramatic monologue, he won't look.

A minute passes before someone clicks their tongue.

"Nothing to say, brat!?" A kick to the back of his knees has Danny falling to his knees, gritting his teeth to stop himself from going ghost immediately. "Do you know what I'm going to-"

Whatever the man was going to say was cut off by a figure launching itself from the ceiling railing and kicking him in the back of the head.

Danny flinches as a body drops right next to him. There is a splash of blood as one of the men wails. Danny offers him a cheeky grin once the man rolls over and looks up into his face.

His wide eyes are stomped on by a dark boot surrounded by a fluttering cape, and the second pair of hands on his shoulder vanishes. Danny listens to the sound of battle, keeping his hair in his face and his eyes on his folded knees. He could get up and hide, but where would the fun be?

His favorite pass time has arrived.

"Are you alright?" The familiar voice growls, but Danny doesn't respond. It was too far away. The man needed to get closer.

Eventually, the boots and the cape returned to his line of vision, a hand slowly reaching for him, and Danny flung himself toward them. He must have caught the vigilante off guard because when Danny wrapped his arms around the legs, he did not dodge in time despite the jerk that indicated he was moving.

Dramatically, Dann wailed, still on his knees, pressing his cheek against a muscular thigh. "Batman! You saved me! I was so scard but you came to rescue me!"

A hand landed in his hair, pushing Danny away. That only made the ghost in him grin as he fought to hug the man closer. It must have been a shock to find that Danny had a lot of strength despite his young appearance.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I was so scared!" He bawls, hiccuping for good measure as he rubs his cheek against the meat of Batman's left vastus laterlis. The man must do insane squats.

"Get. Off." Batman grunts, now using both hands to try and push Danny away. It's too bad for him; Danny has super strength. "Let. Go!"

"Mr. Fenton, everything is alright! You don't have to be afraid. Please let Batman go." Spoiler shouts, appearing in Danny's line of sight. He almost breaks character to pout at her intrusion. He can't, though, as that would ruin the game. So he lets her gently pry off his arms and helps him to his feet.

He shoots Batman with looks of undying devotion, though, which might have actually made the Dark Knight shudder, and that was all he wanted in life.

"You have real bad luck, huh?" Spoiler comments, rubbing his back like a small, scared child.

"I just wanted some milk for my Oreos." He hiccups, wiping at his eye. He then ends a watery smile towards Batman, who is helping Red Robin and Robin secure the gang that had snuck into his city. "But I did get to see Tall, Dark, and Daddy, so today is not a total bust."

"I'm going to be sick," The girl in purple mutters under her breath, and Danny nearly loses it right then.

He is distracted by Eric rushing towards them, a look of hero worship on his face as he slams into Danny with a loud but sincere "Thank you!"

Phantom purrs from inside his protective core. He should shop here more often. This place is a riot.

[nouvxllev]

Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??

(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)

my sister!?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4k

Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au

a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit

masterlist.

An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.

"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."

The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.

Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.

Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?

"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"

She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.

Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.

"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.

Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.

"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"

You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.

Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—

When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.

"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."

A door opened.

"What the fuck."

Sam. Carpenter. Standing.

You. Tara. On. Bed.

Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.

You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.

Sisters. Right-

FUCK.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?

No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.

If it wasn't her damn sister.

Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.

What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.

"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"

"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.

"So—!?"

Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"

"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"

"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!

"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"

"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.

Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"

"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"

"Probably because it felt so good."

You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"

Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.

"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"

"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"

Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?

"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"

"You know the walls are thin?"

"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"

"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"

"We... We are so sorry—"

"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"

"Sam, please, I really am s—"

"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."

"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"

You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.

"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.

"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"

"Oh my god." You whined in the background.

"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"

"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?

"Having sex—!"

"No."

"Intercourse—!"

"No."

"Having... Having coitus—!"

"No, why the hell would you use that!?"

"Making love!"

"Best you could do."

"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"

"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.

The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.

That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.

Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.

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The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.

You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.

But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.

You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.

With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.

Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.

Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?

"Can you come over?"

Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"

"Please?"

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.

You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"

"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"

"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."

There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.

"...Tara?"

"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."

You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)

"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"

"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"

"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."

Oh, how this girl knows you so well.

You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."

The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.

"Damn, you love me."

"Horribly. Say it back?"

"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."

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It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.

When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.

"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.

Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.

You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.

"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"

You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.

Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.

She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.

"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.

You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.

Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.

You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"

Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.

"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.

A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."

"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.

A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.

"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"

Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.

Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.

Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.

You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.

Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.

With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.

But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Fuck, she looked divine.

A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.

It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.

"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.

She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."

You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.

You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."

She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."

You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.

Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"

Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep

The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.

You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.

"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"

All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.

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You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.

Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.

She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.

Oh my fucking, GOD.

She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.

The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.

Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.

"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.

She waits for a second.

Then two.

Three.

Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.

She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.

There doesn't seem to be anything.

Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.

She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.

"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!

A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.

"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.

She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."

"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.

She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"

"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."

Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."

"We are not having another round, Tara."

"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.

"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."

"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.

"After that heart attack? No, Tara."

"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."

"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."

"I'm hoping you will."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."

She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"

You sigh.

"I love you."

Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.

"I love you too."

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a/n: im back!

[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way