#it is why they were only attacked when alone.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Beyond the Grave

Danny Fenton gets the surprise of his life when the Justice League accepts a mission in Amity Park.

No, they were there for ghost issues. lt turns out that if people aren't exposed to shock waves of Ectoplasm radiation, they don't get fun side effects like seeing the dead. That's why the town people had called his parents loons up until the portal was open.

There hadn't been enough death energy to make them visible, let alone corporeal enough to touch the human world. Even Danny had thought his parents were chasing an unrealistic dream until that fateful day when Sam convinced him to walk through the portal.

What the Justice League was there to do was stop this company that had been kidnapping meta children all over the country. They had hidden them a little outside Amity Park, where people rarely drove by. Danny had only gone through those back roads twice, and he's lived in Amity Park all his life.

No one had the slightest idea that a secret lab was operating underground, forcing experimentation on children. Danny felt horrible he had missed this, as the self-proclaimed hero of the area, but his expertise was in ghosts. They were pretty straightforward and loud in their evil plots.

Something like this required resources, training, and detective skills that Danny didn't have. What made him feel a little bit better about all this was that Danny had found the children before the Justice League.

He just won't tell them that because it made his own kidnapping rather embarrassing. Somehow, the scientists- if that can even be called that- had detected Danny's hidden powers. While he was busy crawling out of a dumpster- Dash had thrown him in there- a van had pulled up and thrown a collar onto his neck.

Danny was so stunned by the action that he could not stop a taser to the neck in time. His entire body had cramped up, but not before he had sent a burst of energy to the broken security camera, tuning it on and broadcasting the video to Tucker's laptop.

He got a bit better at controlling technology using ectoplasm, especially after the many fights with Technus, and his friend had set up a laptop in a close circuit that could tap into Danny's frequency.

The kidnappers probably thought that they were in the clear when making grabs at meta children since most came from areas that didn't have surveillance. Tucker had gotten home to a three-hour-long video from Danny, clicking it open and spitting out the ramen he was eating when the first few minutes of it was Danny getting educated.

He panicked and called Jazz to ask if his friend had gotten home. When she denied seeing her brother, Tucker contacted Sam and informed her what was happening.

The pair had immediately mobilized, tearing through the city on the hunt for the van. Jazz had joined them after letting her parents know Danny was missing. They had gone straight to the police station to report that their son was gone.

Tucker had sent them the video, claiming it was from a Panic App. The pair had been in the beta stages, which was why no one had such a helpful app, but it was enough for the Fentons to make their case. The police had placed an Amber Alert and had practically locked down the city.

In a small town like Amity Park, getting the people to band together to help each other was relatively easy. Even Flash, the last person to have seen Danny, had called his football friends to get in a car and help them find the youngest Fenton.

Sadly, by then, the scientists had taken Danny well out of the city, even with multiple people calling to place tips on the black van. Four days passed, and with each passing hour, the likelihood of Danny returning home alive grew dimmer.

No one thinks they have ever seen Jazz Fenton cry that much before. Jack and Maddie were on a rampage, tearing through the city for hints of their son. They had even ignored a ghost attacking the mall, too busy stopping every black Sprinter van they could find for clues of their son.

The video was somehow leaked to the public - Tucker and Sam had allowed it to slip into public domains with a scrambled VPN, hoping to get someone to report anything- and this video had made its way to a certain billionaire in Gotham.

Batman had been working the case for months, looking for a pair of twins that had vanished from Daminan's class. They had gotten the boys back, now able to see in the dark as their meta genes had been forcefully unlocked, and realized they were rescued before they were able to get to the primary base.

The only clue the Bats had was a symbol of a two-headed snack on the collars found around the twin's necks. The same collar that had been forced upon Danny Fenton when he was taken in the video.

Bruce had called his co-workers the second he noticed the mark. They had geared up and gone to Amity Park to investigate. Clark, Diana, Billy, and Bruce had arrived at Amity Park in their civilian personas. They came separately to avoid suspicion, hoping to use Billy as bait.

The Justice League was still coming to terms with Captain Marvel being a fourteen-year-old kid, but none could call into question the good work Billy did.

The three had different stories about why they were in the middle of nowhere in Amity Park.

Bruce had been in town to set up a new outreach for the Wayne Foundation. Clark, a news reporter investigating the missing child case of Danny and Diana, had chosen to tour the most haunted cities in the United States for her museum curator.

Like a charm, Billy had gotten the attention of the kidnappers, and only three days after arriving in Amity as a homeless kid, he had been taken. The moment Billy pressed the button on his bracelet, the three were notified that he had been kidnapped.

Clark kept an ear of the van, listening to the bracelet's beeping that no human could pick up. Just in case, the Leauge had embedded a tracker into Billy's left arm, and Bruce had followed it to the secret Lab.

A message to the Watch Tower had backup zapping down in seconds. They waited until nightfall before springing a rescue mission. Flash, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and Vigilanete had been sent in to find and bring the children home while Bruce, Clack, and Diana worked on taking out the guards.

Danny had woken in a test tube with multiple needles and wires digging into his skin, facing a group of superheroes that stared back at him in horror. The last thing he remembered had been the passing cells of meta children before he was taken to a room with a glass tube.

After being shoved into it, Danny was put to sleep with a gas. He had not been conscious for the entire time he was taken. That means he was not awake when the scientists had accidentally caused his heart to flatline.

They had thrown his body into an unmarked grave, intending to bury him with the three other nameless victims. Danny had not been awake when his survival instincts had triggered his shift to Phantom and floated out of the grave.

Like a balloon with helium, Danny had drifted far from the grave, flouting in the wind unconscious due to the gas.

He had awakened for only a few seconds, floating above the road that led to Amity, confused about how he got there. Sadly, the very same van that had just finished burying him had driven down the street, spotting him in the air and choosing to capture the famous Phantom.

They had stolen some Fenton Tech on a stakeout while waiting to take the Fenton Boy and were happy to see it had knocked out the ghost. The men had taken Phantom back to the lab, setting him up in a tube so their scientist could pull out his green blood for tests.

The Justice League had broken in that night. After the raid, Bruce hacked the computers, looking for clues about the missing children. His heart fell to his feet when he read the reports.

The children had died in the experiments. Danny Fenton was on the list of failed experiments, his time of death marked in the conclusion section of a report like he wasn't a young boy who had just finished his first year of high school.

Bruce had only been able to pull himself together long enough to find information about Phantom being held in a deeper part of the lab. Clark, Barry, and Bruce had gone to the lower levels, intending to set the ghost free.

What they found was Phantom in his most basic form. A young ghost with his jumpsuit cut open, showing the same markings the other rescued children bore.

Lichtenberg scars around the neck, torso, and arms.

Phantom had been a new ghost. Bruce and Clark had verified that in their investigations. They had never thought to question what had created him, only that he had appeared a few months ago wearing a hazmat jumpsuit and seemingly unable to leave Amity Park.

The same jumpsuit the other meta children were forced to wear to contain their experiments.

Phantom had been a meta child that had been killed by these people. He was recaptured and placed in a strange ghost coma, leaving the Justice League baffled about how to help him.

Besides blinking, his eyes opened for only a few seconds when he was rescued; he had remained unconscious after muttering, "There are more. Fifty-seven kids....help them, please."

The League had taken him back to their headquarters while working through the labs and digging up the bodies of the other victims. The people involved with this heinous crime had all taken their lives, having snuck a cyanide tablet into their teeth.

None of them faced justice properly, not for the deaths they caused or the angst that Phantom had been dragged into. The ghost had been unable to move on, sticking around even after everything they had done to him.

He had likely been attempting to get help for the remaining prisoners because every place he had attacked had been involved with this lab.

The Justice League would later reveal this information to the horrified townspeople.

Valerie Gray would be throwing up in the bathroom after watching the news. Her father's previous employers had been half on staff with the people who had killed Phantom.

They made a list of potential children to test for the meta gene. She had been on there, and had Phantom not gotten her dad fired when he did, she would have been kidnapped. He saved her life, and she had shot at him in return.

Dash Baxter would be found drinking and sobbing in the school parking lot. He had been drowning in guilt for dragging Fenton behind the mall, where he had thrown him in the dumpster. He had nothing to do with the kidnapping, but he blamed himself nonetheless.

Those people had been attempting to take Fenton for weeks, and he created the perfect opening. Now Danny Fenton was dead by the same people who made his hero. Dash vowed never to bully anyone again, even as Kawn took him home and helped nurse him through his hangover.

Sam Madison and Tucker Foley moved about like zombies. They kept sending messages to someone who would never answer, searching the sky for Phantom's glow, or had their phones on just in case they found Danny. With each uncovered grave, the pair grew hopeful as Danny had not been among the recovered bodies.

People were slightly heartbroken for them. They would wait on a best friend that was never coming home.

Not to mention the Fenton's reaction to Danny's fate. The funeral had been one of the hardest ones any of them had ever attended. The cries of the three remaining Fentons had echoed in their nightmares.

Worse, they had closed their portal. The Fentons had sealed everything to do with ghosts away, no longer able to stand the research now that they knew Phantom had been attempting to prevent Danny's death.

Maybe if they had stopped to try and communicate with him, they might have been able to save their son.

Jack and Maddie were still certified geniuses and were able to fall back on working for Wayne Enterprises as engineers. They moved away, with Jazz looking lifeless without her brother.

People in Amity Park passed by the old Fenton Works sign, never to see it glow again. They also realized that Phantom had vanished, many assuming that now he was at rest due to his murder being solved.

They were unaware he was floating above them in the Watch Tower's medical wing, locked away in slumber.

John Constantine had noticed his ectoplasm levels had not moved since his rescue. For some reason, Phantom's body was not producing it properly like other ghosts- most likely due to experiments they had forced him through.

This caused a coma, with every Justice League Dark member scratching their heads. In every way, Phantom seemed fine, but his core did not react correctly.

It was almost as if it had never been adequately formed, as if Phantom was still alive somehow.

After months of trying to figure out how to stabilize the ghost's core, John contacted a ghost doctor from the Infinite Realms. It took calling in a few favors to get the information, let alone the actual communication with the ghost doctor, but he could do it.

He was a magic expert, not a medic. This was the only chance Phantom had to ever wake.

Thankfully, Frostbite seemed to know exactly what to do when his large eyes landed on the floating figure in the medical incubator the League had placed him in.

He had assured them he could help Phantom but needed to take him back to his hospital to properly treat the ghost. After the Yeti agreed to an Oath Vow stating he would not allow any harm to fall upon Phantom while under his care.

Another agreement of having John present for Phantom's treatment had solidified Justice League into letting the being move Phantom into the Far Frozen.

A year after Danny Fenton's death, Phantom's eyes snapped open to the relieved Frostbite and the beaming trench coat man.

He had never been so confused when the first thing his doctor said was, "Great One, I am sorry to say the humans believed Daniel Fenton has passed while you were in a coma."

Well.

How was he going to bring himself back to life?

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 WHY CAN'T I FIND NO ONE LIKE YOU?

IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG , STREETS. DOJA CAT

WARNINGS. SMUT, cheating, fuckgirl!billie, innocent!reader, cunnilingus, bathroom sex, boyfriend!oc, fingering, hickeys, praise, language, slight manipulative!billie, and drinking.

SUMMARY. you broke up with billie a few months back, yet you can't seem to get her out of your head. it doesn't help your situation when she shows up at a party you and your boyfriend were hosting.

WORDS. 4.5k

LETTERS. AAAAA MERRY CHRISTMAS(IF YOU CELEBRATE)!!! HERE'S FUCKGIRL!BILLIE AS A LITTLE PRESENTTT

"it's just one drink, babe," your boyfriend urges with a playful nudge to your shoulder, his own alcoholic beverage in his right hand.

his left hand is occupied around your waist, fingertips running along the smooth skin that you crop-top revealed, "live a little! don't be a scaredy cat." vincent yells over the music, a grin coming across his face.

you shake your head with a smile, his words flipping a switch in the competitive side of your mind, "i'm not a 'scaredy cat,'" you scoff, and without a second thought, you reach for the large bottle of vodka pushed far back on the counter.

"think i won't?" you challenge him, your nerves coming back to bite as you watch him shake his head.

"pass me one of those cups," you say, quickly grabbing it from your boyfriends hand as he gives it to you. your eyes dart along the counter, catching sight of a half-full cup of (what seems to be) sprite. keeping that in mind, you fill the empty cup with the vodka in your hand before setting it back down.

with a deep breath, and one final look at vincent, you shout, "vince, watch ou—!"

his entire body turns in an attempt to shield both you and himself, and when he does, you swiftly switch the places of the two cups, gripping the cup of sprite in your hand and bringing it to your lips. you flick his shoulder, catching his attention once again, "yeah, let's go, y/n!" he calls, hyping you up with words of encouragement.

you finish the cup with one last gulp before setting it down onto the marble counter again, fighting the urge not to throw up due to the carbonation. you get hit with an attack of coughs, and vincent is quick to laugh it off while rubbing at your back.

"holy shit. i didn't think your ass would actually do it." he chuckles, tone full of amusement and almost no concern.

"whatever," you roll your eyes, straightening yourself and watching as your boyfriend pours himself another cup. his, what, third one? but, of course, in his defense, 'it wasn't vodka, so what harm could it do?' a lot, to his surprise. you, however, wouldn't even bat an eye if you found him passed out on the edge of the pool or in the bathroom over the toilet.

with no words and a kiss to your cheek, he snuck off into the sea of drunk teenagers and sweaty bodies, leaving you alone with the many horny couples that all decided to make out in the kitchen of all places. so, instead of staying, you fill up your empty cup with water and begin to carefully manuever yourself around the crowd, apologizing left and right each time you even grazed someone with your arms or body.

you only make it to the hallway of your boyfriends bedroom whenever you notice that all of the rooms are occupied because of either a. the moans, or b. the doors are locked.

you let a sigh out, leaning back against the wall and closing your eyes to maybe escape reality for even just a second if that was possible. and you were successful until one of vincents friends showed up to bother you.

"'ay, you're vinny's girl, right?" he asks, voice deep yet somehow heard over the obnoxiously loud music.

you nod hesitantly, unsure of why that would be the first question he asked because vincent's friends had to have known your name by now, "right, right, well—okay, are you down to light one up with me and the guys?" he inquires, his lips curving into a dopey smile to showcase his perfectly white teeth.

you never understood why boys like this threw away their futures on stupid things like drugs and alcohol.

"i don't smoke," you answer, shrugging with a soft, apologetic smile(although you weren't sorry at all).

"hey, can you tell vince i'm gonna be heading out soon and that i'll be somewhere around the front, please?" but, even with your clear dismissal, he doesn't budge, rolling his eyes with an amused scoff.

"come on, girl, you can either come and tell 'em or you'll leave without a goodbye kiss."

he pushes his lips out in a kissing motion, imitating a kiss as he moans suggestively. the action makes you cringe, your fingers gripping tighter around the red solo cup in your hand, "lets go, yeah, baby?" the nickname only pushes you further, your comfort getting more and more destroyed by the second, "no, i think i'll stay here..."

his facial expression switches to one of pure anger and annoyance at your resistance, groaning before finally reaching out to tug on your wrist, "vinny never told me you were so god damn stubborn," he grumbles, his strength overpowering your own attempt to stay put.

"hey, i said no!" you yell, but your call is a mere whisper in the crowd of loud shouts and booming music.

the tall guy drags you to the back patio before you make an effort to defend yourself, splashing the leftover water you had in your cup in his face the moment he turns back to see if you were still there. his grip loosens for a moment from the shock, but when you try to wiggle free, he's quick to tug you forward and make you stumble back, "i—you fucking bitch!" he roars.

his loud yell catches all eyes in the backyard, and some partygoers standing by the backdoor even stop and stare. there's still the slightest look of bewilderment on his face, but it's soon masked with anger as he feels the droplets of water slide down his face and neck. he swipes his eyes with his hands, clearing his vision so that he can see you again.

"who the fuck do you think you are, huh?" he asks, voice deeper than before to show his anger.

he steps closer to you, his tall figure towering over your own as he practically barks curses into your face. what you don't expect, however, are his next words, "you're lucky you're a woman 'cause i would'a beat your fuckin' a—!"

"so what? just because she's a woman doesn't mean she couldn't rock your shit."

as fast as the attention was on you and the boy, it's passed to some random girl twice as fast. some 'random' girl you know all too well, "this doesn't concern you, billie," the furious boy scoffs with a shake of his head, trying to shrug her off. but billie won't shake, of course she won't.

"nah, i think it does." she pushes, stepping closer.

she didn't look nearly as intimidating as he did due to her height, but you knew exactly how much of an effect billie's gaze had on people, "don't think i didn't see that shit, that stunt you pulled? i see everything, so don't fuck around." billie warns, tone strong and never shaking, "leave the girl alone, dude. she doesn't wanna buy whatever fuckass thing you're selling."

"can you shut the—?" he begins to speak, but billie is quick to butt in again, "hey, wait... didn't you get called out on your shit last year for selling fakes?" she makes an uneasy face, whistling quietly before catching the look on his face. billie just laughs in the poor boys face because now, he just looked pathetic.

he grabs billie by the collar of her shirt, her chains getting caught between his fingers and bringing their bodies closer. you just stand there and watch, confused and still angry as the boy whispers something into billie's ear that is either a bunch of curses or an apology. with one final glance back at you, he stomps off further into the backyard, shaking his head.

now that all the attention is gone and the chatter starts up again, billie finally gets the chance to properly greet you with her signature smile, the silver gems on her teeth on full display for you and any other person who dared to pay close enough attention. when she takes a step closer, you grip your cup again.

"woah, okay, don't splash me now." billie chuckles, putting her hands up in surrender as she takes a few more cautious steps closer.

despite your nerves, you still join in on the playfulness, "you're lucky there's none left in here." billie smiles wider at your words, taking it as a sign that she can come closer. you don't even realize that she's pulling you into a hug until her perfume reaches your nose. the perfume you were just about to forget about until billie came in like a knight in shining armor.

unlike you, billie had yet to even forget your body language—a language she was far too familiar with. she breathed in, getting the faintest smell of your shampoo and the sweet, floral perfume you always wore. it only changed when billie came out with her own perfume and you wouldn't wear anything but it. then, multiple accidents happened, and...

here you were. two exes reconnecting at a party you really thought you wouldn't see her at.

"you're not supposed to be here," you mutter, hesitantly pulling away from her embrace. your eyes seem more sad than angry now, and you're sure that billie's the only one who would ever notice. not even vincent knew when you were angry. he was just so careless at times, but he treated you well, "why are you here?"

billie's smile becomes smaller, but it never goes away, "not even a 'thank you' for saving you from that douchebag?" she laughs, cocking an eyebrow and letting her hands rest at her hips. her eyes pick up on the way your lips twitch up, but you never give her the satisfaction of your smile—the smile that she longed to see after all these years.

"i know." she sighs, eyes never leaving yours. you hated how good she was at maintaining eye contact, "just wanted to reconnect with you, ma."

your gaze flickers down to the chains that hung around her neck, noticing the way she toys with them to calm her nerves. you completely drown out her words along with the inaudible chatter around you as you notice the old fairy tattoo on her hand, complimented by the silver rings on her fingers, "you listenin'?" her hand drops back to her hip, and her voice catches you attention again.

a nod of your head is all she needs to know that you, in fact, were not listening. she repeats herself nonetheless, staying silent about the fact, "i saw that you got with vincent a while back," she mutters, biting her lip as if she can't stand even thinking about it, "hope you know what you're in for, y/n." she shrugs the sentence off purposely, trailing off onto some other topic that was completely irrelevant.

"billie, what?—what do you mean?" you ask, voice quiet and a little weary. you had no idea what she was on about.

she pauses, trying to fight the smirk that threatens to take over her face once again. the worried look across your features is all she needs to know that you've walked right into her trap. she had a love-hate relationship with the gullible side of you, "just that... vincent is kind of known for bein', uh—untrustworthy?" she whispers, eyes locked on yours.

your heart rate picks up, the cup in your hand almost completely crushed, "what?" you mutter, voice barely audible.

"he cheats." she states boldly. she almost feels bad for doing this to you, but... she needed her girl back, "no wonder he's not with you right now," billie accuses, "probably off with some chick in—" you're quick to cut her off with a shake of your head and quickly spat words, "billie, stop!" you whine.

and she does, but it doesn't last long, "i know the truth hurts, y/n." her voice is filled with fake sympathy, but you don't know that. you're too focused on the implications that she made just seconds earlier, "i'm sorry." she frowns, tilting her head and opening her arms for you to fall into. but you don't. you stand your ground, tears threatening to build because her words actually sounded believable.

"i'm here, y'know." she speaks, voice soft as she beckons you into her arms. when you glance into her beautiful blue eyes, you break immediately, dropping the cup from your hands and falling into her arms. her warmth envelopes you, and suddenly, it feels like you're right back to square one with the girl—like you're falling right back in love all over again, "it's okay,"

her words are sweet, but her face is the exact opposite. if you saw the twisted smile on her face, you would've known that this was all a trap, but your thoughts were all over the place, and you really needed her right now.

she nuzzles her face into your hair, breathing you in, "you can do better than him, any way." she knows exactly what she's doing, but she won't admit it, "and, y'know... i'm available." billie shrugs, tone still soft, "if you need a friend, of course."

you pull away, but not fully, keeping your arms around her waist so that she wouldn't leave. your faces are inches away, and you can feel the way her breath fans over your lips, plump and pink just how you remembered. her eyes flick down to your own pretty lips, finding it quite hard to keep herself under control at the close proximity you had her at.

this was wrong. you didn't even know if vincent was cheating, and you were still in the arms of your ex-girlfriend. but, then, why did it feel like it was meant to be? like you shouldn't have broken up with her all those years ago?

then again, she was also guilty of cheating on you with not one, not two, not three, and not even four—but five girls. all of which she'd been sneaking between every other day. but that hadn't crossed your mind even once tonight because... she could've changed. no—she did change.

you hoped.

you hoped she changed because you just kissed her. you really hoped she changed because now you were exchanging saliva in the middle of the backyard. you really, really hoped she changed because now she was guiding you through the rowdy crowd of teens and dragging you upstairs.

you really, really, really fucking hoped she changed because she was pushing you in the bathroom of your boyfriends house and locking the door behind her. you couldn't believe you got this far with her. with billie. your ex-girlfriend.

she's quick with her mouth and hands, multitasking as her ringed fingers slip under your skirt and massage your thighs, all while her tongue leaves a trail of fire from your lips to your neck. her plump lips suction onto your neck, and you squirm. just as sensitive as she remembered. your own hands are busy tugging at her beanie that you're growing to hate due to it restricting you access to her soft hair.

you yank it off her head out of frustration, throwing it aside on the bathroom counter that was filled with your makeup products and some of your boyfriends hair gel and whatever the hell else he used. billie's quick to rid the counter of all of it in less than a minute, though, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up onto the cool marble.

the way she looks up at you through her lashes, blue eyes so soft yet so dangerous. this was dangerous. it was so dangerous that you were falling right back into her, lips pressing hungrily against her own. her tongue easily slipped between your lips, groaning eagerly as your muscles clashed, fighting for dominance. billie won easily, her triumphant laugh muffled against your mouth.

"billie," you whisper, words slurred due to the exchange of saliva with your ex, "bill—" she just huffs with a shake of her head, head lowering back down to the crook of your neck, continuing her slow torture on your skin. her teeth sunk into your skin, smile growing wider at the way you whined. so needy for her.

her tongue soothed the bite before moving on to the next spot, creating an array of hickeys along your neck that definitely wouldn't be able to be covered with any amount of makeup.

your hands were still in her hair, tugging painfully hard. billie didn't care. she just wanted to make you feel good again—make you hers again. her eyes flickered all across your neck as she pulled away, smiling proudly at her work before her eyes moved back to you. her own hands snaked further up your thighs, ringed fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, all while keeping eye contact.

maybe you didn't hate it as much as you thought.

"really?" billie gasps, an amused look plastered on her stupid, sexy face. hanging from her index and middle fingers were the lacy black panties she bought you the day before yoi broke her heart, "still wearin' them even while you're with that little boyfriend of yours, huh?" she muses, stuffing them in her back pocket for everyone to see once you and her left the confined space.

your face flushes pink, biting your lip and tugging her closer by her hair, "just touch me already..." you whine, not being able to look her in the eyes anymore. not that you were doing very well at that in the first place, "please." you add. you knew how much she hated whenever you had no manners, "bills, please."

she chuckles at your needy tone, hands coming back down to part your thighs, granting her access to your dripping core. you held your skirt up upon hearing her mumbled request, your other hand still tangled tightly in her dark brown strands. her fingers ran through your wet folds, biting her lip at how soaked you were.

she cursed under her breath, inhaling deeply to ground herself before she quickly discarded her rings and let them drop onto the counter with quiet thuds. her fingers were back on your cunt in seconds, parting your lips and teasing you just because she wanted to. your little gasps and whimpers were anything but quiet, and they were music to her ears.

her index and middle fingers slowly pushed into your hole, exhaling shakily at the wet sound that echoed in the rather large bathroom. your walls were so tight around her digits, but they fit so perfectly inside. almost like you were meant to be together.

in her head, you two belonged together.

"wasn't ever able to find someone as perfect as you," she mutters, eyes glued to the way your pussy swallowed her fingers so willingly, so easily without any resistance.

she shakes her head at all the memories, some of which were so scattered she couldn't even remember the girls' names. but that's not what she was focused on right now. she was only focused on you. only you could satiate her needs, her hunger, "found it hard to find someone like you," she whispers, leaning closer to kiss your cheek.

"'cause nobody could ever compare." billie breathes, listening carefully to your strained moans and soft whines of her name, "nobody." she makes her point clear with a curl of her fingers, the pads of them rubbing against the special spot inside of you that she had no trouble finding.

your own fingers curl around the fabric of your skirt and the dark strands of her hair. the way she was speaking made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, and the way she was touching you... it made you crazy, absolutely feral for more and more of her.

babbles of her name fall from between your lips repeatedly, the plump skin swollen from how hard you were biting down. she was gonna kill you if she kept this up.

a knock on the door did nothing to stop billie's movements or her mouth from working you up. nothing would ever hold her back from making you feel good. not even if it meant somebody finding out what you two were doing because, frankly, she didn't care.

all she cared about right now was getting you off and getting you back.

"doin' so good for me. such a perfect, obedient girl." billie praises, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, making you look into her deep blue eyes. the smile paired with it only further pushed you toward that edge, "y'missed me?" she teases, biting her lip as she pumps her fingers in and out of your pussy at a quicker pace.

you nod mindlessly, head blank of all things except for billie. when her lips met yours again, you melted into her touch, crying quietly against her mouth from the pleasure. you loved it when she was like this—so soft and so nice to you, so caring of your needs even though you two were broken up.

"tongue—'m'want your tongue," you murmur between moans, panting harshly from how close you were getting. you held it back, although it seemed impossible, because you wanted—you needed to cum on her tongue.

fuck your boyfriend, he wasn't even a thought in your mind anymore, and billie was quick to notice as soon as you began—or attempted—to push her head down.

billie raised an eyebrow in amusement, her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she gave you a bashful smile. she didn't know why she was getting all nervous so suddenly, but it definitely had some connection to the way you pleaded with your eyes—the eyes that she was always getting lost in.

so, without having to hear another word, she dropped to her knees on the hard tiled floors of the bathroom. her jeans did nothing to break her fall, but she wasn't worried about the bruises that would form on her knees the next morning or the scuffs that the tiles would leave on her pants. she was only worried about not having enough time with you, worried that you might come to your senses and leave her again.

not that she wouldn't be able to get you back, but the thought was still scary.

her fingers caressed your walls so gently, moving at a pace that wasn't too slow or too fast, a pace that was perfect for the both of you. when her lips wrapped around you clit, though, it felt too little and also too much all at the same time. billie was making you lose it completely.

you let your skirt fall atop of her head, too fucked-out of your mind to hold it anymore. now both of your hands were pulling her closer by her hair, nails scratching her scalp both soothingly and painfully, but she loved it. gosh, she couldn't think of anything that felt better.

"fuck 'em." billie murmured, the words not getting to your ears but the vibrations going straight to your throbbing cunt. she shook her head back and forth lightly, her tongue moving along with it, flicking over your clit perfectly. your thighs were shaking, threatening to close because you were almost off that edge.

the wet, squelching sounds of her fingers slamming into your pussy echoed in the large bathroom, filling both yours and billies ears. it only added to the sounds of your moans, and it was driving billie insane—she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself even after you came, "bab—billie, billie, billie!"

"'m'cumming—gonna cum all over your face, bills!" you warn, voice shaky and high-pitched.

she barely heard what you said, but by your tone, she was told all she needed to hear. the speed of her fingers picked up, and she sucked on your clit even harsher than before, eyes fluttering shut and just listening to you.

she would listen to your moans every day if she could.

her hands squeezed your thighs comfortingly, urging you to cum. she needed it, maybe even more than you. when your breaths came out in short gasps and your body shook furiously momentarily, she smiled proudly.

as you came down from your high, she continued to lap at your pussy, fingers slowing to help ride it out for a few seconds. a whine sounded from her throat whenever your hands began to push her away, but she pulled back with a disappointed groan. your eyes widened in adoration when you finally got a look at her face.

your slick was dripping down her chin, her lips swollen eyes pouty from having to stop so soon. nonetheless, she gave you a dopey smile, her blue eyes so pretty and blue you were scared that you'd drown in them. not that you'd mind, anyway.

her fingers slid out you slowly, her eyes trained on yours to see every little reaction you made. billie's smile only grew when she showed off her fingers, slick with your sticky cum. when she spread her fingers, it made a web between them. a quiet curse fell from her pretty lips as she brought them closer to her lips, her free hand squeezing your thigh again.

now it was your turn to be utterly mesmerized. billie's lips parted as she pushed her own fingers inside her mouth, sucking on them in such a lewd manner. you pulled at your skirt, wrinkled from how hard you were gripping it earlier—something your boyfriend was definitely gonna comment on later—but it didn't matter. you couldn't continue to lead him on after getting fucked and falling back in love with your ex.

billie's plan worked, and you knew nothing about it.

"just as sweet as i remember." she states, drying her hands on one of the many towels your boyfriend had hanging behind the door. you almost felt bad, but when billie turned back to you with the sweetest smile on her face, you forgot all about it.

before doing anything else, she grabbed her beanie from the floor, putting it on her head and not even bothering to fix it before turning to you again.

she took your hand in hers, helping you hop off the counter and onto your feet again. when you stumbled, billie caught you instantly, hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling you closer to her, "woah, okay, maybe you're not in the best condition for walking." she jokes with a laugh, eyes scanning over your half-annoyed-half-happy face.

"good thing i'm here, right?" in one swift movement, she's carrying you bridal style, a smug smirk playing on her face.

you roll your eyes at her teasing words, but as she begins to move, your face drops. your hands are gripping at her neck in an instant, scared that she might drop you or something. but, her grip is tight, and she's holding you with more care than your boyfriend could even express, "relax, ma."

the nickname makes your heart flutter, eyes snapping to billie's only to find yourself falling even deeper in love—if that was even possible.

yeah. now you were sure you'd never find anyone like her.

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[ultramaga]

", a pew research center study found that 60% identify as moderate or liberal" Not linked, no definition supplied, Leftists call anyone not a Leftist a Nazi - or if they feel generous, they might, as you did, say Nazi-adjacent. "Liberal" is an empty noise where a word used to be, with contradictory definitions. Meanwhile, even Leftist propaganda outlets are conceding the tide is changing.

"parties such as Emmanuel Macron centrist party have taken more progressive views" Progress towards what, exactly? Because Progress used to mean the inevitable spread of America across the globe. Then the Marxists said Progress meant the West would fall to communism before the East. Then Progress suddenly became the castration of children. Progress is a buzzword, a space where ideas used to be. It is undefined, like "woman". "In Spain's socialist party(PSOE) which has once been considered center left" By WHO? You keep making claims with no substantiation. It is a socialist party. For it to do socialist things, like declaring that socialism means everyone can sit about and the work will somehow do itself, is par for the course. Socialists promise whatever it takes to get into power, because the foundational statement is "Reality is a Social Construct". That is, control people's minds and you control reality. Consensus is all. Which is why you get absurdities like arguing that 2+2 might equal five and that humans have an infinite number of sexes. Socialism has no interest in what humanity regards as truth, it only cares about power, and sees everything as involved in power only. The personal is political because EVERYTHING is political. Which is why all Leftist art devolved to dull propaganda.

Imagine there is a gif from the game Concord here. Tumblr doesn't have one. BECAUSE EVEN SOCIALISTS DON'T PLAY SOCIALIST GAMES. SOCIALISM MAKES FOR STUPID AND BORING ENTERTAINMENT, BECAUSE IT DEMANDS EVERYTHING BE A BORING SERMON.

But the numbers don't lie. Overwhelmingly, the numbers can be seen on Steam etc. Socialist games fail, capitalist games succeed.

Socialism inevitably fails - the only achievement it ever has is in destruction, and that only succeeds up to the point where it alienates people so successfully that they shoot socialists on sight.

Frankly, I don't think that is far off.

In fact, a quick look at the Leftism tag finds post after post inciting terrorist attacks. Leftists want, they demand, blood. Because they can't win without violence, without killing all those people who use logic and evidence.

Leftists declared they would punch "Nazis", despite the NSDAP being dead long before any of them were born. They just assaulted or killed anyone they deemed an opponent - and mostly, only if they could catch them alone and unarmed. The rioters steered far clear of the States where citizens could defend themselves. Leftists NEED the citizens to be helpless before they can succeed. Antifa is already a terrorist organisation in many countries. How long until they are shot on sight in America?

Donald J. Trump

@realDonaldTrump

"The United States of America will be designating ANTIFA as a Terrorist Organization."

I think people's patience is running dry. The declaration by Leftists that they will be sexually targetting children was a step too far, and their inability to talk to anyone outside their bubble means that they can no longer stay in contact with mainstream humanity.

When Leftists insisted that children attend their sex shows, it became clear that this had nothing to do with gay rights and everything to do with perverts seizing power.

Perverts in charge of nuclear arsenals. Thanks to Leftism.

https://www.houstonchronicle.com/lifestyle/article/houston-designer-says-ex-biden-staffer-stole-17803723.php

Now, don't get me wrong, Biden's Pardon Party means many Leftists will never be charged for their crimes against humanity, but the People aren't going to forgive the folks who raped their kids that easily, nor will they forgive the ones who covered for them. Remember when mentioning Hunter Biden's laptop would get your account closed on social media, because it was official policy that only a Nazi would claim that Hunter Biden did drugs? And now Daddy Biden pardons him for year after year of crimes. After years of saying he wouldn't do it. I understand that the corruption and decadence of Leftism will take years to sweep away, but you know what? The brooms are being readied. Pronouns are already disappearing from bios in the Democrats. OAC was just ahead of the curve.

The Young Turks suddenly abandoned Leftism, although Ana had clearly been unhappy with it for years, and had clearly cheered on Trump as the votes began to tally.

Go back and watch Ana the first time Trump won, and compare that to the second time.

Across the globe, the tide is turning.

I have said it before - I think Leftism is escalating, and it will inevitably become just another terrorist organisation, like The Weathermen. What's that? You've never heard of them? Because they escalated to violence, and then were shot? Yes. Nobody cares about The Weathermen, and soon, nobody will give a damn about the Leftists. Their day is done.

I understand - there will always be evil in the world. It will revive in some new form. But the castration cultists always had a timer ticking. There's no future in a movement that tries to stop the birth of children. Humanity will not agree with its own destruction.

if you voted for trump, block me. you're a horrible fucking person.

[marscardigan]

to the moon and back

remus lupin x reader

summary: your son is just like his father. remus hates that.

warnings: angst, mentions of self-hatred and anxiety, panic attack, cursing, not proofread!!

When you gave birth to Teddy, the marauders delight, you noticed he looked just like his father. The same lopsided smile, the little frown, how he looked at you with pure adoration and joy... everything reminded you of Remus. You adored that. It was like you just made him a twin. And it wasn't only you who noticed it, oh no, everyone did.

From Sirius' jokes to Lily's compliments, everyone knew he looked just like Remus. It was only the named one who seemed to dislike it. So when everyone left the hospital the night teddy came, you confronted him about it. "What is it?"

Remus looked up at you, looking confused. "Come on, don't lie to me" He laughed, failing at making you calmer. "I just don't know what you're talking about, dove"

"You've been weird and quiet all day"

"I am weird and quiet always" you scoffed, frowning as if you were just insulted. "Answer me, please. I am worried over here"

He moved his gaze to the window, avoiding your eyes. "You aren't going to like it"

"Don't care, just want to know why you look sad and why you haven't looked at your son in all evening" Remus grimaced at your voice. "So you noticed" Still, his eyes didn't meet yours. "Of course I noticed" You answered, offended.

"I just... don't like... that everyone says he looks just like me" He tried explaining, but you didn't get it, you couldn't bear to get it, after how proud you were your child looked just like his father. "I just wished he looked like you, that's all"

You pouted, looking at Teddy's sleepy face. Remus kept spiraling on his own thoughts. "I don't know why I feel this way, i should be proud of it" The postpartum hormones started to hit you harder, and some tears escaped your eyes. "If it helps, I couldn't be prouder that my kid looks exactly like you"

"Oh baby, please don't cry" Remus got up from his seat, and with his warm sweater dried every single tear left on your cheeks. "Let's just hope he gets your personality"

"We better hope he doesn't get your sense of humor, because we're screwed then" You laughed, and Remus joined too. He then started to believe in the possibility of loving his own son, even if he looked just like him, and made him sick inside.

When things started to get better, and your kid was almost two years old, you received a letter from the Potter's. Teddy was staying with them for the weekend, so you two could get some time alone. But all of your plans got screwed when Remus got a letter from James. He came to you, hand shaking while grabbing the piece of paper, tears threatening to escape from his beatific chocolate eyes. You got up from the bed and swiftly went to his side, grabbing softly his cheeks, which were burning. Before he could explain himself, he started crying, panic running through his veins. You asked what was wrong multiple times, but the only thing that left Remus' lips were "I told you", repeating it until he couldn't breathe. You tried to do everything you could to stop him from the anxiety, but every time something like this happened, you never knew what to do, so you hugged him and make his head hide in your chest, tears falling from your eyes as horrid shouts left Remus' mouth.

Once he got calmer, he just gave you the letter, too tired to even open his eyes. You didn-t have to read it to know what it said. So before he could do anything, you were going to the Potter-s and taking Teddy back home.

You left your son's room after putting him to sleep, and tiredly, you searched for your husband, only to find him smoking outside the porch. Remus didn't turn around, only lightened another cigarette. "I-m going to bed" You said, hoping to get some reaction from him. After a minute without any sign of him hearing you, you sighed, going to your shared dorm. Before you could close the door, you heard him mumble something under his breath. After asking to repeat it, he finally turned around, cigarette between his lips. "I said how bad is it."

You looked at his eyes, ignored the big eye bags those carried for almost two days now. "It could-ve been wor-"

"No. Tell me how bad is it" He cut you off, voice monotone.

You started to lose patience. "Well, if you're so interested about it, why don't you just try to look at your son's face? Then you could see how fucked up it actually is". You spitted at him, angry about his behavior. "But I told you, the scar on his cheek will fade eventually"

"That's what the doctor told me with mine" He almost laughed. You crossed your arms. "Thank god we have a better doctor then." Remus' tries to look guilty were hidden behind a weird smile, "So this is funny to you now? The safety of our child?"

"Of course it's not fucking funny, for god’s sake!" He almost shouted, throwing the cigar out. "I tried to warn you, ya know. About it before we had... him. But as always, you didn't listen"

"I did listen, you dumbass" You answered back, your words sounded almost venomous. "But as I told you back then, I couldn't give a shit, not before and not now, about it."

"You do seem mad about it" He shrugged.

"I am mad about it because our son needs his father, and his fucking father can't even look him in the eye" You pointed out at him, getting closer. "He needs you, and you seem to be gone." Your voice cracked, and Remus gaze softened just a little bit. He called out your name, but you ignored him. "I swear that every day that passes I have more clear that you are going to leave us, leave him, and I, I can't stand it."

"No, listen, it's not-"

"You listen to me" His eyes looked worried at your face, almost noticing now how pale and unhealthy you look, or have been looking for the past week. "I am scared every time I wake up and not finding you in bed, because you're gone" Your throat suddenly feels dry, as if your thoughts somehow would become reality once spilled. "Teddy needs you, I need you..."

Remus grabbed your hips, caressing your skin with his thumbs. "I know, I... I have been on my mind too long" He looked down, almost ashamed. "I was so scared of passing my... condition to him that once it happened I didn't know what to do after" He finally whispered. "I had no one when it happened to me, and I would've loved to have someone" "Let's give Teddy that support he needs, especially from you." You took advantage of the closeness of your bodies to rest your head in the crook of his neck. "He really misses you"

"I miss him too..." He sighed. "God I'm such an awful father" You shushed him, not daring to open your eyes. "Don’t say that. You are wonderful, you just need someone to remind you that"

Without being aware of his smile, Remus looked down at you, hiding the biggest smirk that now rested on his lips. "I love you, dovie. Love you to the moon and back"

"And just so you know" You looked up at him, copying his smile. "I couldn't be prouder that he is just like you"

And Remus started to believe it. He started to believe the blessing he had with Teddy, but mostly he started to believe how lucky he was to found you, and how his son would found just another angel like you in a future.

[leighsartworks216]

The Calm After The Storm

Sylus x gn!Reader

I know it isn't Christmas anymore but the vibes persist in my notes app

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, Christmas, alcohol, drinking, kissing, cuddling, some family drama

Word Count: 834

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You scrub a hand down your face, as if it could wipe away all the stress and overwhelm from the last few days. Booking flights, packing bags, wrapping gifts, dealing with your parents' nagging and your extended family's... whole deal. You can't wait to go back home.

Sylus sighs as he settles down beside you. His arm immediately wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side where you belong.

He's been your rock through all of this. When you start to lose your head to the holiday season, he's there to reel you back in. It was a real catch 22, though. He could be there to block your family's questions and interrogations, but that only brought more questions to the surface.

How did you two meet? How long have you been together? When is he going to propose? Will we finally have some grandkids? Why isn't he with his family? How big is he? (Asked by your great grandmother, utterly shamelessly.) And on, and on, and on.

For all the headache it brought you, he didn't seem too phased by the excitement. With all the grace of a businessman, he deflects, redirects, and obfuscates just enough to satisfy their questions without giving them too much of a rope to tug on.

Now that you've finally got a moment to yourself - all your relatives gone, your parents off to bed - all you want to do is sit on the couch and come down from it all.

Sylus is quiet. You know it's for your sake, to give you all the (metaphorical) space you need. All the power is in your hands to start a conversation. All he does is hold you close, rub circles into your arm, and offer you the wine glass in his other hand.

You grin wryly as you accept it. It's fruity, sweet - definitely not to his tastes. "Is this the one my nana got you?"

"Mhm," he hums. "It's a nice gesture."

You chuckle. "She had no idea what to get you. I mentioned that you like to drink, but she's... Well, she tends to gift other people things she likes."

You settle deeper against him, cradling the glass to yourself as you lean your head against his shoulder. He presses a tender kiss to your head.

"Is it always that chaotic?"

"No." You tilt your head up to look at him. "It's usually a lot worse."

He chuckles lowly. "I'm glad they were on their best behavior for me, then." He brushes his nose against yours, drawing out the peace of the moment just a while longer. He's had to severely cut back on how affectionate he gets to be with you to avoid encouraging even more marriage and children questions; he really wants to savor this for as long as possible.

The lights of the Christmas tree in the living room dance across the planes of his face. Every now and then, the red catches on his iris. Or the gold does, and gives him a draconic look. He's beautiful. Ethereal. Your cousin took one look at him, at his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, and gaped in awe at you. The only reason she couldn't get a chance to get Sylus alone and try to steal him is because he was too insistent on staying by your side through it all, whispering teasing remarks in your ear and making sure you weren't about to have a panic attack.

It felt really good being able to put her in her place at dinner, when she purposefully vied for the seat beside Sylus's. He'd ignored her the whole time, save for a politely dismissive phrase or two. After she stole your boyfriend from you in 9th grade pulling the same stunts that she tried tonight, you had no sympathy for the teary-eyed pout she pulled on her way out the door.

You lean up that last little bit. He ducks his head down to ease the strain on your neck, meeting you in a honeyed kiss. Sweet, warm and unhurried. You taste like the wine, hints of the bitter alcoholic sting softened by the fruity sweetness clinging to your lips. This may be his new favorite wine, if only for the way it tastes on you.

You pull away slowly. He leaves a few chaste kisses on your lips, chasing after the lingering sweetness, before finally humming his satisfaction. As soon as you both get home, he's going to make up for all the lost time. For now, he tucks your head under his chin, holds you in front of the tree, and basks in his first Christmas spent with you.

"Merry Christmas, Sy."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." He can't wait to celebrate with you again next year, crazy family and all.

You take a slow sip of the wine, basking in the silence for all of one minute. “Sy?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re taking the jet back home. I can’t be sat sandwiched between two screaming babies again.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[gemissleeping]

Angel of Small Death | Part Two

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.

Read Part One here.

Length: 1.4k

Warnings: Haha... heyyyyyy (I feel really awkward rn, I feel I should beg forgiveness) so I might've been away for like... the whole year. But Merry Christmas?? I missed you guys and I missed writing sm. I heard you in the replies and I heard you in my inbox... so here it is!! I loved writing this as I'm easing back in. I love that so many of you loved it! Working on another part :) anyway drug use mentioned!! Toxic relationships!! Mature audiences! I love you all <3

“Where were you?” Mattheo asked as he threw his bag to the sun bleached grass beside you. It was the turn of Autumn, and the last thing you wanted was to be stuck inside doing arithmancy. The endless flood of numbers and charts made your head spin. 

“Here.” You answered simply, giving him a lazed smile from where you laid back in the grass. Matt sat down with a weighted sigh beside you, the skeletons of old leaves crunching beneath him. You looked to him for a moment, zoning in on the harsh set of his brow; the uncharacteristic tension he seemed to be carrying. 

“Well you shouldn’t be.” He wouldn’t look at you, perhaps just couldn’t. He was turned instead to the Black Lake, sprawling before you both like a mirror. The illusion only broken by the thin freckling of light rain upon its surface. It was all so easily disturbed. 

“It’s one class,” you sighed, feeling a creeping sense of guilt. “I don’t understand why you’ve got your knickers so twisted. As though you haven’t done worse.” You gave him an airy smile, which of course he didn’t return, still falsely captivated by the lake.

“I haven’t seen you since second. I just left Potions.” He looked at you then, the edge in his tone doing little to conceal the worry in his eyes. For the first time since you’d gotten to the lake, the dread you’d been so desperately trying to bury began to scratch at your chest again. The acute awareness that you had no concept of how long you had actually been down here setting in. Time was running past you like water, but you didn’t seem to be moving with it. 

“You’re high.”

Too late you remembered the remnants of the joint beside you, amongst the dead grass and weeds. The rough skin of Mattheo’s fingers now tainted with soil and ash. The betrayal in his voice made your stomach churn, now it was you who couldn’t look to him. 

“Only when we’re together, that was the deal.” He was upset with you, and somehow it felt unexpected. Your fingertips found the edge of your skirt, toying with it like a chastised child. He’d never been disappointed with you before, or perhaps you just hadn’t cared. You weren’t too sure which was the truth. 

“One class you might’ve gotten away with, but three?” His hands met his face mercilessly, the brunt of his frustration meeting there as he ran them across it. “Fuck, I mean what were you thinking?” Eyes on the ground, you continued attacking your skirt’s hem with a frown. The gentleness had returned, seeping into his tone. This was the part of him you needed. Whatever it was that was inside of you, this supposed grief, couldn’t be consumed. But at least he made it feel like something you could navigate; somewhere where you could find someone close to who you had been.

“Are you trying to torture me?” His words cut through the stillness of the water, the absence of a leaf adorned breeze.

“What?” The words tumbled out of you, feeble - flat. 

“Are you,” he repeated gently, your eyes locking as you turned to him, “trying to torture me?” His eyes held, earnest. The kind of vulnerability you’d only seen from him when you were alone at the end of the night and a bottle. “I just want to help. It’s the least I could-” Something within him cracked, made its way up his throat. Matt held his breath, looking away for a moment as though for privacy. You waited, not daring to do so much as move. His palms had returned to shield his eyes, but they would do nothing for his thoughts. After a sharp breath he rested an arm atop a bent knee. Head still hung low as the other moved to the ground, fingers sinking into the sharp needles of dry grass. “And you just- you keep throwing yourself into it. How am I supposed to keep you out of detention if you keep doing this shit?”

Of course. Of course he had been. You felt a fool for taking his admission to realise. Unlike you, the Carrows were not fools. It had not been your attempts at slipping away unseen or making yourself unnoticed that had saved you this past month. It had been him. What he had done in order to save your skin, you did not want to know. Your cheeks burned.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that you… I’m sorry.” You had been foolish, and you had hurt him. Cost him God knows what. Your cheeks felt wet when you looked to him again, the cold air drying the salt of tears against the skin. There was nothing harsh about him, not the way people seemed to believe. He was so unlike the life that had been passed to him. Gentle, and kind, and somehow whole. Patched together with all of the pieces of himself still accounted for. It shouldn’t have been possible, yet he sat before you.

He reached out, his palms covering your cheeks, thumbs running beneath your eyes to wipe the salt away. He didn’t blame you, or anyone. He should have, but he didn’t. He tucked you into his side, wrapping his green tartan scarf snug around you as you both leant back against the large oak. 

“Do you at least have any left?” Mattheo whispered against your ear with a grin. Looking down to you, eyes alight with his usual mischief once more. You couldn’t help but grin back as you nodded, his lips moving to capture yours. He lingered against you, gentle and unassuming. There was nothing he wanted from you, no longer anything he wanted you to fix. You’d known it for a while now. Everything else; the drinks and powder and pills - their rush held no light to him. What had once been intertwined was starting to untangle. It would take time, but you would become whole again, and then you could be with him - without the rest of it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Theo’s eyes were on Mattheo as soon as he had entered the dorm. As though he had purposely left dinner early so that he might get Matt in private. Theo didn’t have to speak, it all lay there; he’d been looking at Matt that same way all evening. And in fairness, Mattheo supposed, they hadn’t done much to cover the smell. But that wasn’t what this was about, not exactly.

“I didn’t give it to her.” Matt spoke plainly, throwing his potions textbook down on his bedside table without a care “She gave it to me this time, actually.” He didn’t know why he had said it. He knew it would only anger Theo, more than he already was.

“Bullshit.” Theo glowered from where he leaned upon his desk, “It’s always you.” Matt would have been more hurt if it hadn’t have been true.

“That’s not fucking fair man.” Mattheo sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed to face his friend. He began lazily untying his laces, having heard these sentiments from Theo before. Quite frankly he was growing tired of it; the constant overstepping. “Things aren’t good right now-”

“You made them that way.” There was a weight to Theo’s words; an implication. One that held Matt implicit in beliefs that he had buried; that chained him to his Father. Theo didn’t notice the set of his jaw change, didn’t notice him stop untying his laces - only decided to cut deeper. “You got her hooked when you should have helped her.”

“I am helping her.” Matt stiffened, eyes alight as the words left him. He knew where the lines rested; what was his fault and what wasn’t. He spent half his life trying to figure them out. He had a plan, to fix this. 

“She looks like shit.” Theo spat, coming to stand before him. The air in the room seemed to drop in temperature, a chill slicing through Mattheo as he met Theo’s gaze, unwavering. 

“We’re getting through this together.” He tried not to doubt it as he said it. They would clean up, together. They just needed time, he was sure they were close. They had to be.

“No. You’re driving each other into the ground.” Theo stated plainly, his voice low. “And when she gets too far down, it will be your fault.” Theo stepped back, eyes burning into Mattheo. He took a few steps back, before turning away. “Clean your shit up,” Theo mused as a bag of powder landed before Mattheo’s feet, “it’s getting all over everything.”

Taglist: @theodorenottswifeyy @obsessedwithceleste @lenoraslament @mayamonroem @simp-for-fantasy @bruisedbbby

Thank you for your love and patience, getting back to inboxes now. You are all incredible <3

[tonalwhiplash]

PROJECT EDEN'S GARDEN SPOILERS!

Chapter 1 spoilers

Theory concerning wolfgang's whole deal

Okay so like. His mom's mega dead, right?

"Whoa! Back up! Where the fuck did you get that from?"

Alright sit down, lemme show you something.

Remember the prolouge?

I sure didn't! So I rewatched it!

Take a look.

Wolfgang freaked out over Wenona claiming that Cara was the aggressor, implying her murder was justifiable.

At the time, Damon along with all of us just assumed he was being a lawyer about it and had put himself on the side of the injured party. But I don't think it was that simple.

I think he was having an episode. The only evidence for this in the prologue itself is the in-game acknowledgment that Wolfgang's arguments had shifted to being based on emotion alone. It's literally used for a tutorial!

And he says himself in his FTEs that he doesn't normally conduct himself that way in an actual courtroom. So his freak out wasn't his standard, but he doesn't give a straight answer for why he acted how he did.

But chapter 1 as a whole gave us what was necessary to start connecting some dots.

Have a look.

The blackmail Damon got. The photo of Wolfgang's parents.

Look at his mom.

Now look at Cara.

By no means are they identical, wolfgang's mother has a mole on her face, which Cara lacks, but I want you to note the hair and eye color specifically. Keep it in mind.

Now let's look at the back of the card.

"Like father, like son"

"Beneath a sheep's skin hides a wolfish mind"

The game sorta hands you a part of this. Wolfgang's father did something bad. Something that, allegedly, Wolfgang either has repeated or simply had the capacity to do himself eventually.

So what did Wolfgang's father do?

That much isn't told to us, but from Wolfgang's hallucination induced meltdown, I have an idea.

I think wolfgang's father killed his mother.

Let's get into it.

Starting with his hallucinatory episode.

When Wolfgang initially sees Diana, I think he sees his mother. The way he talks. The way he apologizes to her and calls himself a failure for not being like her. We learn in his FTEs that his mother is the only other lawyer in the family and his sole reason for becoming one himself.

However, when Diana walks over and takes his hand, he switches and becomes angry and violent. Going as far as to attack her with a knife.

I think, when Diana grabbed his hand, either something she said or something she did caused the hallucination to switch from a vision of his mother to the vision of his father.

Suddenly he's no longer sad when he says he's not like the person he thinks he's speaking to. Suddenly he's smiling at the fact he's "not like them." Because he's talking to his father now.

He wants to be like his mother and never wants to be like his father.

The line "bring her back" implies that his father, the person he was hallucinating in Diana's place, took his mother away from him.

And the reason I think that's it, relates back to his smaller scale meltdown during the test trial.

Wolfgang started talking about how it was inexcusable to kill a woman.

Though that could be chalked up to chivalry or what have you, I think there's a much more personal reason as to why he felt so strongly about it.

Because his father's actions were inexcusable.

They weren't self defense.

And witnessing a dead woman who bares resemblance to his late mother be accused of deserving it may have struck a nerve.

The killer for the mock trial had no identity given, making it all the easier for Wolfgang to project his father, or a man like him, onto that blank stand in.

I can paint a scene

Wolfgang in the courtroom as a child, maybe even a witness to the murder, watching as the defense lawyer for his father makes every excuse in the book for him. Claiming that his mother was the aggressor, that she had a weapon, that his father had no choice but to "defend himself" from her attacks.

While, in reality, Wolfgang had seen a very different situation play out. Whether he spoke up and was dismissed for being "too young" or was unable to properly testify due to the traumatic experience that is simply being in a courtroom at all, he was unable to bring his father to justice.

He was unable to do right by his mother.

I think that'd be a pretty good motivator to practically race into law school as a teenager. To become the ultimate lawyer at 22 years old. So he could make up for his previous failures.

I think Wolfgang has been carrying a heavy burden from a very young age. And to return to the "like father like son" comment, I'm willing to call that a misdirection. I think when Wolfgang is implied to have "a wolfish mind beneath sheep's skin" or " being a wolf in sheep's clothing," the actual truth is that he's a deeply emotionally scarred person who has no choice but to force a facade of stability and confidence to push though it all for the sake of those around him and his goals. Basically, he's masking.

So, technically, just like his father, Wolfgang is a mentally troubled man pretending to be okay. And the kidnappers used that misdirection to imply he had sinister intention for pretending just like his father had pretended to be a man his mother could trust. When in reality, their motivations could not be any more different.

Or maybe I'm just being silly. Teehee! 🧡

And a small side note. The word "wolfish" implies intentions other than violence.

Lust, hunger, and greed mostly. Though, I'm willing to sidestep those options cuz Tozu is absolutely the kind of bitch to reword a common phrase to make it sound more flowery only to unintentionally imply some nasty shit.

Wolfgang gives no tells towards being a creep. Not a single Freudian slip left that man's mouth. Not even in FTEs. Grace would have been the killer for chapter 1 if he was like that. They literally shared a bed. And, despite their cute dynamic, if the two had actually done anything canonically, we'd get more obvious tells in the game. Those walls were shown to be pretty damn thin...

There's a bit more under the hood of this theory, but this post is big enough, and all other supporting information requires enough explanation and red string to justify their own posts.

So stay tuned for:

• Further theorizing about wolfgang

• And the possible parallels between wolfgang's hallucinatory episode and Eva's execution

[kaleidoscopecth]

Why Won’t You Love Me?

MDNI

paring: calum hood x reader

summary: your life is falling apart, and in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort in your chaotic world, you end up at the doorstep of one of your best friends.

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship with luke, mentions of substance abuse, mentions of rehab, weed usage, safe sex teehee, oral (f receiving), fluffy desperate sex, whimpery calum, slight body worship, angst for days, unrequited love

word count: 5.7k

a/n: this story is really nothing like the ones i have up before truthfully, it’s because it wasn’t meant to be published. i wrote this based on some of my own struggles, but i kinda love how it turned out. quick disclaimer, although i use peoples names in this fic, it’s not a reflection of who i think they are as people. this is all in good fun, not meant to be a serious attack on anybody’s character. anyways, enjoy.

as always, thank u to north for editing this ur the best 🫶

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You weren’t entirely sure why you had ended up at Calum’s doorstep. Your cheeks burned, chest tight with emotion as you hesitated, then rang the doorbell.

You had run circles around the idea in your head, knowing how complicated it would be to show up here. Calum was Luke’s best friend, his bandmate, and the last person you should’ve turned to. But the weight of everything—the withdrawal, the breakup, the utter mess your life had become—pushed you forward, even as doubt clawed at your resolve.

Would he even want to see you? Would he resent you for the way you ended things with Luke? You had wrestled with those questions all day, replaying every bitter moment of the breakup. You hadn’t meant to be so cruel. It wasn’t your intention to cut so deeply, but the withdrawal had stripped you of any semblance of patience or clarity.

And then, as soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you had gone running back to Luke. Desperate, aching, hoping to salvage what was left.

But then you saw them.

The door opened before you could spiral any further. Calum stood there, his brown eyes scanning you with a mixture of concern and surprise. “Y/N?” he asked, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips. “You’re still here?”

His smile brought you a fleeting sense of relief, though you had braced herself for rejection. After all, if Luke could hate you, why wouldn’t Calum? Your mind replayed the raw memory of Luke’s anger when you begged for his forgiveness. The sting of seeing him move on so quickly still lingered in your chest.

It had only been two weeks since your overdose, yet he was already in bed with someone else—Sierra, of all people. You had known from the moment her name flashed on his notifications that her intentions weren’t pure. And you’d been right.

“I’m leaving for rehab soon,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “And I don’t want to be alone on my last night.”

Calum’s expression darkened, his sadness unmistakable. Without hesitation, he reached out, taking your hand and pulling you inside.

You had managed to keep things normal between you after you had drunkenly hooked up last year, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the subtle shift. Calum’s gaze lingered too long whenever you were with Luke, his quiet, intense eyes studying you two with something unspoken and unreadable.

“Wanna go out to the terrace?” Calum asked, his voice soft, a faint smile on his lips.

You nodded, taking his hand as you stepped outside into the cool night air. The breeze was crisp, refreshing, and you relished it as a small reprieve from everything weighing you down.

You curled up on one of the couches, pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. Calum slipped back inside for a moment, returning with a rolling tray and a grinder in hand. You laughed lightly.

“I’m supposed to be sober, you know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“From oxy,” he countered, smirking as he sat down across from you. “Isn’t there a thing called ‘California sober’ or whatever?”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Shut up and roll the joint.”

Calum grinned and got to work, expertly grinding the weed and rolling a joint with practiced ease. He lit the end, taking a long, slow drag before passing it to you. You mirrored his action, inhaling deeply—too deeply—until you erupted into a coughing fit.

“At least I’ll get a decent high,” you wheezed, shaking your head with a small, rueful grin.

“So, rehab,” Calum said, his tone light but tinged with something else—sadness, maybe, or hesitation. His eyes followed yours, searching, as if trying to grasp what wasn’t being said.

You exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissolve into the night. “God, don’t remind me,” you muttered, taking another hit before leaning back against the cushions. “Some facility in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Nebraska. Flight leaves tomorrow.”

The air grew heavy between you, filled with the distant sounds of the city below. You glanced over to find Calum watching you, his brows slightly furrowed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally, his voice quiet, a casual shrug betraying the weight of his words. “But I guess I’ll see you after?”

Your chest tightened, the lump in your throat rising before you could stop it. You turned to look at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Cal,” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I’m moving to London when I get out.”

The words hung heavy in the cool air, their weight settling between you. Calum’s faint smile faded entirely, his expression faltering as your statement sank in.

There was enough space between you that no part of you touched, and for some reason, you hated that.

“You’re leaving?” he asked quietly, his gaze dropping to his shoes. “For good?”

You shook your head, your voice soft. “I’ll be back for filming and work stuff, but I won’t be living in L.A. anymore. I can’t.”

“Because of Luke and Sierra?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You flinched at the name, your stomach twisting with shame and anger. Every mention of Sierra made you feel small, like a fool for ever trusting Luke.

Luke had lied about everything—about seeing Arzaylea before coming to your apartment and claiming to be in love with you, about Sierra, about all of it. If you hadn’t stumbled into his apartment and seen the truth for yourself, you might have still been in the dark.

“Sure,” you sighed, brushing the thought aside. “And my family will be closer. They want to help me stay sober.”

“I could help you.” Calum’s voice was firm, his gaze locked on yours, determined.

Your heart skipped at his words, and unbidden memories of your moments together flashed in your mind—the way you’d gone from indifference to friendship, to that one night that had blurred every line. He’d insisted it remain a one-time thing, but that never stopped him from touching your shoulder softly, or smiling at you like you were the only thing that made the world spin right.

“Cal… no,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t expect that of you.”

A beat of silence passed, heavy and fraught. Then, barely audible, he said, “I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t flinch. You weren't surprised, not really. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you exhaled. “I know,” you murmured. “But this—” you gestured between the two of you, your voice faltering. “How could this ever work?”

He shrugged, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Luke started screwing Sierra despite the fact that she and Ashton had a thing before. It’s not like this would be new territory for us.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “But it’s new for me.”

“So this is it, then? Our goodbye?” Calum’s voice cracked, anger and defeat mingling as his broad shoulders slumped.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him, but your hands stayed firmly at your sides. A fleeting, reckless thought bloomed in the back of your mind—a glimpse of a life where you could stay, where you could fall asleep next to the boy with warm brown eyes and wake up to him every morning, never feeling the ache of leaving again.

Your throat tightened, the words heavy on your tongue. “I can’t say I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of your truth. “But, God, I wish I could.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken longing, a current of electricity passing between your gazes. Calum’s brows furrowed as he took a hesitant step closer, his eyes glimmering with equal parts hurt and hope. “Why not?” he asked softly, his voice trembling.

“Because it’s Luke,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice cracked under the weight of your confession. “You have no idea how badly I wish it could be you. That I could have you in my head every second of every day instead of him. You’ve never hurt me. You love me wholly. You’d never put that love at risk.”

“Then let me be the one in your head,” he pleaded, his voice low and desperate. “Just for tonight.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled in your chest. You looked at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was leaning toward you now, his eyes searching yours, desperate.

“Is that really what you want?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Let me say goodbye the way I want to.”

Your mouth went dry, and you weren't sure if it was from the weed or the way Calum was looking at you. The idea—the possibility—was strangely appealing.

“Okay,” you breathed.

Slowly, you moved toward him, swinging one leg over his lap to straddle him. You stared at each other for a heartbeat, your hands gently cupping his cold cheeks.

He leaned in first, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed yours, soft and tentative.

The second you registered the kiss, all of your composure unraveled. You sighed against his lips, threading your fingers into his curly hair as the kiss deepened with a fervor that surprised you. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Calum stood, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you as though you were the only thing grounding him.

He carried you inside with steady determination, the world around you blurring into insignificance. When you finally reached his room, Calum kicked the door shut behind you. The soft rattle set off Duke, who began barking incessantly from somewhere down the hall.

You couldn't help but laugh against his lips, the sound breaking the tension for a moment. Calum pulled back slightly after setting you down in the bed, chuckling as well.

“Duke, calm down,” he called out, his voice amused but firm. Then, turning back to you, a playful smile tugged at his lips. “He always acts up when he knows there's something I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing as your hands slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers trailing along the hard ridges of his stomach.

Calum's response came in the form of another kiss, deeper and more urgent this time. “You,” he murmured against your lips.

The kiss intensified, your lips moving with a quiet desperation that made your heart race and your stomach flutter. Calum's hands roamed your sides with deliberate care, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.

You matched his fervor, your hands trembling as you tugged at his shirt. This felt different—more intense, more intimate—than the last time. There hadn’t been much hesitation then, just two people driven by pure need, but now, you could feel a semblance of giddy awkwardness in the air.

Calum pulled back just enough to shrug off his shirt, the fabric falling carelessly to the floor. His hands immediately found your face, cupping your cheeks as he brought your lips back to his.

Your hands moved across his bare skin, tracing the curve of his muscles, the lines of his tattoos— a detail you had committed to memory. You tugged him down with you, but he stopped, pulling away slightly with a small smirk.

“Nuh-uh,” he teased, his lips brushing yours. “Your shirt's coming off too, Y/N.”

“Then take it off,” you challenged, your voice breathless and filled with need. “Take everything off. I need you.”

Calum's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and with one swift motion, he pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. One hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close as his lips claimed yours again.

The other hand moved skillfully to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare beneath his touch. Calum's lips moved to your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin, his hands sliding down your back and pulling you closer.

His mouth trailed down to your collarbone, grazing the delicate skin with soft nips that made you gasp. Slowly, his lips descended to your chest, capturing your nipple in his mouth with a deliberate tenderness. You let out a quiet moan, your hands tangling in Calum's hair as your eyelids fluttered shut, your breath hitching at the sensation.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Calum groaned against your skin, his voice filled with awe and desire. His eyes lifted to meet yours, darkened with longing, his pupils blown wide. Slowly, he kissed his way back up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss there before nudging his nose against yours in an intimate gesture that made your chest ache.

But then it hit you—a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you, sharp and cold. What were you doing? Were you just using him? Using his kindness, his patience, and the way he cared about you, all because you didn't want to feel alone? Your body tensed, and you froze, pushing him away slightly.

Calum immediately pulled back, concern flooding his features as his hands cupped your face. “What is it?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes darting across his face, searching for something—anything—that might tell you he wasn't as sure about this as he claimed. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean, I can't—I can't give you what you want, Cal. I won't even be here most of the time, and—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “Stop. I want this. I want you.”

Your heart clenched, but you still hesitated, guilt and uncertainty gnawing at you. “Cal, I—”

“Please,” he whispered, his voice dropping to something raw and vulnerable. “Let me have this. Let me have tonight. Just... just let me. Let me give you a proper goodbye. Let me give us a proper goodbye.”

His words hung between you, heavy with longing and unspoken emotion. Your breath hitched, your resolve faltering as you looked into his eyes. There was no hesitation there, no doubt—only a fierce, aching need for you. “Would you let me?” His lips brushed against yours ever so carefully. “Please let me.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, swallowing down your fears, worries, and the ache in your chest.

Calum's smile was soft yet radiant, a quiet reassurance that melted some of your hesitation. You could feel him smiling against your lips as he kissed you again, and before you realized it, your own lips curved into a matching smile. His hands roamed your body with reverence, each touch gentle and deliberate, as if you were something sacred.

With practiced care, he began unbuttoning your jeans, his lips trailing away from your mouth to press heated kisses down your jawline. He lingered near your earlobe, nipping it lightly, and you let out a small, contented sigh. Your hips rose instinctively, allowing him to tug the denim down your legs in one smooth motion.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this.” His mouth found yours again, urgent and insistent, his hips pressing down against your thigh while his fingers trailed lightly down your chest, making you shiver. His lips wandered back to your breasts, lingering there with soft kisses and teasing bites that made you gasp.

“What do you want, Calum?” you gasped, your hips bucking upward, seeking friction with an urgency that made your voice crack. “Tell me.”

When he lifted his gaze to meet yours, the intensity in his eyes stole your breath. They were dark, glazed over, and filled with raw need. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, as though the world could crumble around you and he wouldn't care. “I want to touch you,” he murmured, his voice rough, the words muffled by the kisses he pressed down your sternum.

“Then touch me, baby,” you urged, your fingers threading through the damp curls on his forehead, pushing them back. Your tone was soft, but your words were charged, dripping with encouragement. “Make me feel so good.”

The soft groan that escaped his lips felt almost involuntary, a raw reaction to your words. It sent a shiver through you, straight to your core. His hand slipped beneath your underwear, his fingers finding your clit with precision. He moved in slow, deliberate circles, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

When his fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, he froze for a moment, as though savoring the sensation. Feeling how ready you were for him, he let out a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice heavy with awe, every word tinged with disbelief. “You're already so wet. Fuck, Y/N... you're perfect.”

His words sent heat rushing through you, your back arching as your body responded to his touch. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill, but the way he touched you, slow and deliberate yet filled with need, made it impossible.

He didn't wait, slipping a finger inside you with ease, watching your reaction with rapt attention.

You let out a sharp cry, your back arching instinctively as pleasure shot through you. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your fingers threading tighter through Calum's hair, holding him close. “Just like that, baby.”

Calum moved with deliberate care, curling his finger inside you, his steady rhythm coaxing soft, breathless moans from your lips.

Every movement seemed calculated to draw you closer to the edge, yet it was laced with tenderness that left you dizzy. The way your body responded to his touch had his lips parting, his breath hitching in admiration as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

“That feels so good,” you sighed, your voice trembling as your nails lightly scraped the nape of his neck. “You're doing so good.”

Your praise sent a shiver through him, and his eyes darkened further, his pupils blown wide with desire. His breath came faster, his hips rutting against you involuntarily as though he needed you even more than you needed him. “You sound so pretty,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with reverence, though there was an edge of desperation to it, almost a whine. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You pulled at his hair, your eyes falling shut in bliss. Calum was working his fingers at a steady pace, moaning as if he too was the one getting off. The fact that he was so worked up by the mere fact that he’d been touching you made a wave of heat rush down your body.

His lips kissed down your torso, leaving no mark of your skin unkissed. “I need to taste you,” he gasped, continuing to inch down your body. He was shaking with anticipation, fingers never faltering. “You’re so wet and so pretty, and it’s all for me. I did that to you.”

You nodded rapidly, another moan falling from your lips. “Need your mouth on me,” Calum’s breath hitched at your words, his kisses down your body growing more sloppy by the second. He didn’t waste any time in pushing your legs open, taking deliberate care to suck at the skin of your hipbone.

You propped yourself on your elbows, watching through half lidded eyes as Calum finally pressed a small kiss to your inner thigh. Already fed up, you let out a frustrated mewl. “Cal, please.”

Calum’s entire body shuddered, and you saw the way his eyes widened momentarily before his mouth latched on to your clit. He let out a moan against you when the taste of you overwhelmed his senses, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes essentially rolled back into his head.

“You’re so dreamy like this,” you gasped, his lips sucking at your sensitive bud enough to make your legs shake around his head. “You make me feel so good— oh, fuck, just like that.”

Calum let out a shaky whine, his hips grinding involuntarily against the mattress as he looked up at you, his wide, awe-filled eyes glistening with unspoken devotion. His movements were uncoordinated, almost frantic, as though he was utterly consumed by you, his tongue lapping and sucking at your clit with an intensity so raw it sent shockwaves through your trembling legs.

“You taste so good,” he panted, his voice unsteady and reverent between his breathless licks. “Your thighs are shaking— fuck, I did that to you. I made you feel like this.”

You bit your lip hard, your eyes squeezing shut as the tidal wave of sensation crashed through you. Every nerve in your body felt alive, strung out on the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Calum's hands wandered your torso with a desperation that bordered on worship, gripping your skin tightly, as if grounding himself in the reality of you.

Stars burst behind your eyelids as your body arched into his touch, the sensation cresting to an unbearable peak. The sight of him—his flushed cheeks, his lips glistening with you, his pupils blown wide with adoration—was almost too much. You needed more, needed him closer, needed all of him.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers gently in his curls, tugging him away from your overstimulated clit. Calum let out a soft, almost pitiful moan of protest, his lips brushing against your skin as though he couldn't bear to let go. Still, he obeyed, letting you guide him back up your body, his warm breath fanning over your skin with each ragged inhale.

Your lips met in a kiss so heated it left you dizzy, your mouths colliding with a fervent need that neither could deny. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of how completely Calum had given himself to you. The realization sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Calum let out a broken whimper against your lips, his whole body trembling as though he was barely holding himself together. “Y/N,” he choked out, his voice laced with desperation, his breath coming in shallow pants. “I need you. I need all of you. Please. I don't know how much longer I can wait.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest as you looked into his wide, awe-stricken eyes. His pupils were blown with need, his lips slightly parted as he hovered over you, waiting for permission like his entire world depended on your answer.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, pulling him down into another kiss that was all heat and urgency. “Don't wait anymore. Just fuck me.”

Calum let out a soft, broken sound, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he nodded, his curls tickling your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips trailing down your neck with a desperation that made your body ache for him even more.

When he sucked hard enough to leave a mark, you arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair, too far gone to care about anything else.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw and shaking as his hands roamed your body, both frantic and reverent, like he couldn't touch enough of you at once. “You don't understand. I'd do anything for you. Anything. Just say the word.”

Your breath hitched at the sheer devotion in his voice, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. You swallowed hard, your hands moving to cradle his face as you met his gaze. “I just need you inside me right now,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you.

You watched as Calum reached over to his bedside table, pulling out a condom and hardly ripping the packet open with his teeth. Your eyes followed his movements as he rolled the rubber down in his length. Calum let out a shuddering breath, his hands trembling as he positioned himself between your thighs. He hesitated, his gaze flickering up to yours as if silently asking for reassurance. You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek with a tenderness that made his breath hitch.

“C’mon baby,” you gasped.

With a shaky nod, he sank into you slowly as though he never wanted the moment to end. A whimper escaped Calum’s lips, a sound so deep and guttural that it made you moan. Your nails sank into his back, and Calum’s head fell forward against your shoulder.

Calum was trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice tight with strain, barely holding himself together. “I never want this to end.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, the intensity of the moment washing over you as you felt him stretch you in ways that made you gasp.

When he began to move, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, and Calum froze instantly, his entire body going rigid. His head snapped up, wide eyes filled with concern as they searched your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent, laced with worry.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly as you forced yourself to take a steadying breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice airy, cheeks flushed. “It's just... it's been a while, and... you're kinda big.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then Calum let out a soft, startled laugh. The sound was rich and genuine, shaking his entire body as the tension melted from his face. His amusement was contagious, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing with him, the shared moment easing the intensity between you.

Still smiling, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging him closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. Your laughter softened into quiet breaths, your noses brushing as you lingered in the intimacy of the moment.

“You can move,” you whispered, your voice steady now, laced with trust and anticipation.

Calum exhaled deeply, his eyes darkening with emotion as he nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before he began to move again. This time, his movements were slow and deliberate, his focus entirely on you, his body attuned to yours as you fell into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.

You cried out his name again, your nails digging into his back as your legs tightened around his waist. Calum's movements grew more purposeful, his hips snapping against yours with a need that was almost overwhelming. His eyes never left your face, drinking in every gasp and moan as if they were the only sounds in the world.

“You're so perfect,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. He leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a tender kiss that contrasted sharply with the intensity of his thrusts. “I don't know how I can-fuck, you feel so good. So perfect, Y/N.”

Your body arched beneath him when he shifted slightly, thrusting deeper and hitting the spot that made your toes curl. A sharp cry tore from your throat, your body trembling from the intensity. “You're doing so good,” you gasped, your praise deliberate as you ran your hands down his sweat-slicked back. “You fuck me so good, Calum. Just like that, baby.”

Calum let out a broken moan, his head dropping against your shoulder as your words seemed to ignite something in him. His hips moved faster now, each thrust harder than the last, as if he was trying to lose himself entirely in you. His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing against it, rubbing fast, precise circles that made your breath hitch.

“You're amazing,” he panted, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. His voice was wrecked, thick with desperation and adoration. “I just want to make you feel good. Tell me I'm doing it right. Please.”

You let out a whimper, your body seemingly on fire with the intensity of the pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his curls, muttering unintelligible encouragement under your breath. You looked at him, the way his cheeks were flushed with the exertion and desire, and you gave him a breathless smile. “You’re going so good, Cal,” you moaned. “I’m so close.”

Calum’s movements were erratic and eager, desperate to feel you come undone beneath him. His hips stuttered as he tried to maintain the rhythm that had you falling apart beneath him. He was panting hard, moaning your name in breathless pleas. Your nails raked down his back, only spurring Calum on.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their assault on your clit that made your legs shake uncontrollably. “Please, I need you to come for me. God, I need to feel you clench around me— please baby, fuck. Come on my cock, I can’t hold on much longer.”

Your breath hitched, eyelids fluttering close as you felt the familiar coil begin to tighten in your belly. Sweat was building up on your skin, but you didn’t mind. “Calum— oh my God, please don’t stop.” The combination of his desperation, his eagerness to make you feel good, and the relentless pace of his hips and fingers sent you over the edge.

You came with a loud cry, your lips shaping Calum’s name, your thighs shaking as another shattered moan escaped you. Your vision blurred, your nails digging into Calum’s back as you clung to him, peppering his shoulder with kisses.

“Oh fuck,” Calum groaned, his voice strained with desperation. “You look so pretty falling apart for me, making all my dreams come true.” His thrusts became erratic and messy as he chased his release, his hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

“Y/N, I'm gonna—” His sentence broke off into a loud whimper, his face burying into the crook of your neck as he feverishly kissed your damp skin.

“Come for me, baby,” you panted, your voice thick with pleasure as your fingers trailed up and down his back before gripping his biceps for support. “You did so good, made me feel so good. Let go for me.”

His body shuddered violently, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he spilled into the condom with a raw, guttural cry. He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice trembling as aftershocks wracked his body.

Shallow, instinctive thrusts carried him through his orgasm, his movements slowly stilling as the tension drained from him.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing. Your bodies were pressed together, skin slick with sweat, and the weight of him above you was grounding, comforting in a way neither of you could fully explain.

Calum finally pulled away with a soft sigh, rolling off you carefully. His hands were gentle as he removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash can by the bed. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your gaze tracing the sharp contours of his body, the way the moonlight filtered through the window and illuminated his tattoos in a soft, ethereal glow.

You knew Calum was beautiful—you always had, even when he’d been less than kind to you. But now, there was something different about him, something raw and desperate. You wondered how they had gone from mutual animosity to Calum being so deeply in love with you that he would settle for just one night of your pretending.

But were you pretending?

The thought lingered in your mind, heavy and uncertain.

“You're beautiful, you know that?” you murmured, your voice quiet but full of admiration as your eyes lingered on him.

Calum turned to face you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispered against your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone and then the outline of your lips as though memorizing every detail. Your eyes stayed locked on his, searching for something you couldn’t quite name.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion and something softer—hope. “Your flight leaves tomorrow. Just stay the night. I’ll take you there.”

You frowned, your hand instinctively coming to cover his. You didn’t answer immediately, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. This night had been one of the best you’d had in a long time, a reprieve from the chaos in your mind. And yet, that knowledge brought an ache you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Calum…” you hesitated, your voice softer now, almost unsure. “I don’t know if I should.”

His hand tightened gently against yours as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it stole the air from your lungs. His palm moved to the back of your neck, his touch reverent, urging you closer. Your bare chests pressed together, his other hand settling at the small of your back, anchoring you to him.

When he pulled away, the weight of reality sank between you. You were leaving—leaving this moment, leaving him—and as terrifying as the thought was, it also carried a bittersweet freedom. Leaving Calum meant leaving behind the pain Luke had caused, a fresh start that felt both liberating and heartbreaking.

“Please,” he whispered against your lips, his voice fragile, each word carrying the weight of his longing. He held his breath, his eyes searching yours for even the smallest trace of hope.

You bit your lip, the turmoil in your chest almost too much to bear. You knew what you should do, but you also knew what you wanted—at least for now.

“I’ll stay,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “Just for tonight.”

Calum exhaled softly, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as relief washed over his features. For now, it was enough. Just tonight, it could be enough.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

i hope you guys enjoyed, and if you sent in a request just know that i saw it and i’m working on it! there are many writing projects that i’ve been juggling so i’m sorry in advance if it takes a little long for it to be posted <33

[suprababka]

How you first met & how they asked you out on a first date (part 3)

Featuring:

• Flashy Flash • Zombieman • King

[Saitama & Genos & Speed-o'-Sound Sonic: part 1] [Garou & Metal Bat & Amai Mask: part 2]

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thank you everyone for reading what I do and supporting me, it means a lot. I always do my best to make you guys happy because I really appreciate all of you. As some of you can remember, I've already mentioned a few times my first post with headcanons, and here it is! Finally, after all this time, I can present it to you as a gift for Christmas!🎄💫🎊🎉

(I hope I didn't mess anything up, and I'm sorry for being a bit late! I really wanted to publish this post sooner but couldn't. We don't celebrate Christmas in my country btw) Unfortunately, I had to split up post into 3 parts :((( Alright, let's see if you guys like my headcanons! :) (I low-key cringe at them tbh)

And dear anons, who requested headcanons, do not worry! I remember about you and will post everything, I just wanted to have a logical "begining" for hcs, you know?

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

You live in a world where a monster attack can happen anywhere and at any time

It sounds terrifying, but that's a part of your and everyone else's life

The government with the Hero Association did a pretty good job at keeping civilians safe and sound

For example, you've never seen a real monster before, only on TV

And it's not like you have a goal of witnessing one in real life, but still

You always feel safe

Even now, when you're walking back home from watching a movie with your friends all pretty and preppy

Suddenly, you hear a woman's cry, "A-a-ah! Somebody, help! There is a monster, a-a-h!!"

Your heartbeat unimaginably increases

You freeze, not knowing what to do due to fear

Where is this woman? Why is there no alarm of a monster attack? Where are heroes? What do you do??

It feels like the woman is screaming right next to your ear, but you're all alone on the street – everyone else has already run away

You peek around the corner and see a woman at the end of the alley trapped between the monster and a wall

She has nowhere to run

And the monster? It's the same size as a regular human, looks like a normal man besides its leather, dark green skin, and huge claws

Wolf level threat, no more

But still terrifying

The monster doesn't know you're here, so you can use a chance to run past it unnoticed and leave the poor lady behind

Or you can help her somehow

Try to call the Hero Association? The monster will hear and kill you

Run away out and only then call them? It might be too late for that, the monster will kill this woman, and who knows when heroes will arrive

But on the other hand, it's not your fault she got into the trouble in the first place, right? And you don't owe anything to her

In fact, you actually are not obliged to help her

There is no shame in trying to save your own life

So yeah, it's better to just run

As you run past them, you suddenly stop yourself

No, you're not like this, you were raised differently

You'll help this woman, it's settled

It should take a good smack at the monster's head to knock it out

After that, you just have to run

You got this

Feeling determined and giving into an adrenaline rush, you take a metallic trash can lid and start quietly approaching the monster

It's focused on the woman, and the lady herself doesn't see you

You manage to quietly approach the monster and hit its head with all your strength, making the disgusting creature stumble and wince in pain

"Run! RUN!" you command the woman who doesn't waste a second and immediately starts running away with you

But as you're about to turn around the corner to get back on the street, you suddenly fall, feeling pain in the shin of your right leg

You try to stand up but fail

You look back and notice that monster somehow injured your leg

How? It wasn't even close to you

You look at the creature and see that not only did it get even bigger, but its eyes literally burned with anger, and a few sharp tentacles came out of his back

The monster approaches you, growling loudly

You scan the area to find something that can help you fight with monster

And for the first time in your life, you're grateful for drunk heads who leave their empty beer bottles on the streets

You grab the glass bottle and throw it directly at the monster's face

While the creature winces in pain, you try to make a run for it

But the only thing you can do is just pathetically crawl away

Meanwhile, the monster extends its arm to grab or attack you

You instinctively close your eyes

That's it

That's how you die

What a sad death

At least you saved that woman

...

Nothing happens

It's peaceful, quiet...

... or not

Suddenly you hear water splashing, something heavy falling... and heels clicking?

You open your eyes and find yourself in the same alley, lying on the ground

And the monster is gone?

What is left of it are big pieces and splashes of its blood

No way, you were saved!

But by whom?

"It's alright, you're safe now," you hear a man's voice next to you

You glance up and see S-class hero, Flashy Flash!

(the hero you worship so much)

"I... Thank you! You saved my life!!!"

He just nods and points to your injured leg, "Let me see it."

"Huh? Ah, yeah, sure..." you let your saver examine your wound

You're quite surprised to see this side of Flash

(and the hero himself too, of course)

As far as you're concerned, Flashy Flash is known for his stoic demeanor and immediate disappearing after defeating monsters

Quite the contrary of what you're witnessing now, to be exact

But maybe these are just rumors?

"It got near your nerve. Just a little bit more, and you'd practically lose your foot. You're lucky."

"And lucky enough to be saved by you, huh?"

He chuckles, "Yeah, lucky you."

Ah, his small smile... what a rare and adorable sight

He looks more humane with it

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more," you comment, without thinking

Flash gives you a strict look, his smile drops

"I don't smile. I should take you to the hospital so they could treat your leg there."

With these words, he scoops you in his arms and starts carrying you to the hospital

(he doesn’t even look at you, his eyes are fixed on the road ahead of you)

As he steps out of the alley onto the street, his grip on you tightens

"Hold tight, it's gonna be a fast ride, but not a pleasant one for you."

"Huh, wha-"

Suddenly you feel a strong force pressing you into Flash

And the world around you spins in a strange way

A few moments later you find yourself in the hospital

Yeah, they didn't lie in media that Flashy Flash had inhuman speed!

"Oh…"

"You alright?"

"Y-yes, a bit nauseous, but overall, I'm okay."

"Yeah, others said that my speed was a bit overwhelming for them too."

Others? Ouch

Of course he saved many people before you

Why did you think you were special in the first place?

A gush of surprised whispers fills the hospital hall: "Oh my god, is that Flashy Flash?!", "Who is that girl?", "A-ah, he is even hotter in person!", "I wish it was me…"

To avoid further gossip, you address the S-class hero, "Um, you can put me down. There is no need to carry me anymore…"

"Your leg is injured badly. It's better for you not to put pressure on it."

With these words, he finally takes you to the receptionist

As they register you, you realize that soon enough Flashy Flash will go

(and you probably will never see him again)

"Thank you," you begin. "I'm really grateful that you saved my life and took me to the hospital. Most heroes would just go straight away."

Flash doesn't answer you immediately, staring into the distance as if he's considering something

"Usually I'd walk away too," he finally says, his gaze falling on you. "But… Something made me not to. ..I guess it's your bravery. Not everyone has the guts to fight back a monster. You handled it rather well."

"Uh, thanks, but… You watched me instead of saving?"

"…"

"It doesn't matter. What I wanted to say is... you're a fighter, and I respect that."

You can't really follow what he's trying to say

"Thank you, it means a lot."

"Do you know what else means a lot?"

"…No?"

"You made me smile. That's what."

"But you said you don't smile?.."

He chuckles, "That I did. However, it'd be stupid of me to ignore the fact that I act differently towards you. I'm not known for my altruism towards other people, you know. So you can count yourself special."

???

"And I'd like to talk to you more… but under different circumstances next time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Why would I say that if I didn't mean it?"

"I just didn't expect that."

"Neither did I. But here we are."

"And to answer your question, I'd like to spend time with you too."

He smirks, "Correct answer."

Meanwhile, the receptionist finishes registering you and calls nurses

"It looks like you're about to get treated."

"Yes, thank you again for helping me."

The S-class hero chuckles again, "I'm not going anywhere now. And I can't just leave my date, can I?"

"Huh?" you only manage to raise your eyebrows before nurses lay you on the hospital bed and start carrying you to a doctor

Fortunately, your injury isn't serious

You just need to bandage your leg, put some ointment on it, and try to walk less in the next three days

After that, you're free to go (literally)

Turns out that Flashy Flash was awaiting you the whole time, like he promised

Moreover, he takes you to your place

(to make sure that you'll be safe and won't strain your leg)

But due to another monster attack somewhere else, all you manage to do is exchange your contacts before S-class hero speeds away to do his job

Damn, what an evening, right?

Bonus:

Flashy Flash accidentally runs into you and the monster

For some strange reason, there is no alarm nor no alert from HA, telling there is an attack

Maybe because you're a hero who is here to save the day (evening, actually)?

But judging by your appearance and your desperate attempts to defeat the monster, you’re a regular citizen

But he'll be damned, you have a strong will

Flashy Flash doesn't really know what amazes him in you more: the way you stand up for yourself or your beauty

Wait, what? Amazes?

Flashy Flash doesn't feel amazed by someone. He is the amazing one

He examines the wound on your leg

That's strange, Flashy Flash usually doesn't check victims of monster attacks

And moreover, he doesn't get all "buddy" with them

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more."

What?

He smiled???

…

No, he doesn't smile

…

…

…

But why do you feel so good, so right in his arms?

No way, does he really... like you?

But Flashy Flash doesn't get attached to anyone, he is all by himself

Or he thought so

As much as the S-class hero wants to stick to his bachelor image, he realizes he actually can't

"…Most heroes would just go straight away."

He would too

And yet, he didn't

Maybe it's time for Flash to stop being so prideful and accept the fact that he has a soft spot for you?

That he hates seeing you in pain

That he doesn't want you to be scared ever again

That he wants to hold you more, to spend more time with you, to protect you

But how exactly?

… Maybe it's time after all

Ah, it doesn't matter, does it?

He's a straightforward man, so he'll just tell you how it is

Besides, it'll be your loss if you reject him

As he starts explaining his feelings to you, he notices that it's kind of hard for him to do this

Ah-oh, Flashy Flash isn't used to talking about this stuff

And why is he a bit nervous all of a sudden?

All his confidence comes back when you return his feelings

Of course you feel the same, how did he even doubt that?

When Flash sees you home, both of you think that it's a great opportunity to get closer to each other at your place

Buuuuut, unfortunately, S-class hero has to come back to his work

So for now you settle for exchanging your numbers and promising each other to talk later

And off he goes

Maybe it's a good thing that you have to postpone your date

It means Flashy Flash can take you out to a nice place when it'd be convenient for both of you

(and when your leg will be healed)

Yeah, sounds like a plan

What is one of the best ways to treat yourself after having a bad day or, vice versa, keep up your good mood?

Correct, going to your favourite cafe and ordering a drink with dessert that you like so much!

Today is your lucky day since there are only a few costumers

Soon enough, you take your order and get ready to go on with the day

Maybe it's just a wrong moment and wrong time, or you just turned too suddenly

But you bump into someone and spill all of your drink other them

How embarrassing

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!!"

"Don't worry, it happens..."

Your hands automatically take tissues and start trying to dry the liquid off their clothes

As you press the cloth against their stomach, you feel their rather pumped-up abs

And their body is rather cold too, comparing to human standards

Suddenly you realise what you're doing and stop

You feel like you're burning from embarrassment

"Sorry! I..."

You look up and see...

S-class hero Zombieman!

As if it couldn't get any worse

"Uh... It's alright", he takes your hands in his and gently pulls them away

Silence falls as he lets go of your hands

You notice that not only his shirt is stained, but there is also a huge wet spot across his white coat

Uh-oh...

"I'm really sorry... How can I make up for that?"

Zombieman scratches his neck and shrugs

"Hey, accidents happen, I understand that. It's kind of my fault too, I should have been more careful as well."

"I'm really embarrassed. So at least let me wash your clothes, please?"

"There is no need to. The Hero Association provides me with– On the second thought, you know what? If it helps you to feel better, you can wash my clothes."

"I... Thanks, I will!"

"Great. Then, if you don't mind, I'll give you my clothes later because I don't have spare ones. Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Nope, I'm gonna be at home."

Both of you make plans to meet each other in this cafe and exchange your contacts

And after that, you go your separate ways

As you're doing your stuff at home, you still can't really believe your encouter with your favourite S-class hero, Zombieman

You always felt like there was a wall between heroes and civilians

But in reality, "protectors" are regular people too

Just like you, your family and friends

Yeah, it's an evident thought, but still...

Suddenly you get a message

It's Zombieman telling you that he's ready to give you his clothes

Your meeting with hero goes rather... simple?

Both of you just greet each other and then go your separate ways

Kinda disappointing

On the other hand, you'll meet with him again

You spend rest of the evening cleaning and drying hero's clothes off

When the next day comes, you text Zombieman and both of you agree to meet each other at the cafe

As you pack his things, a certain idea comes to your mind

You take a small piece of paper and write down your number with the text "I'd happy to talk to you again ;)"

You fold the note and put it in the pocket of the hero's coat

Then you realise something: he already has your phone number, so there is no necessity in it, right?

Or maybe there is in case he deletes it?

And maybe you should also write your name?

Maybe it'd be better to rewrite your text?

And to redrew the smiley face just to make sure it doesn't look creepy?

Argh, why is it so hard???

And it's already time for you to head out...

You finally make the decision to just write the phrase without your phone number

After folding a new piece of paper into Zombieman's coat, you finally head out to the cafe

Much to your disappointment, your meeting with the hero goes just like the previous one

However, the man gives you a small gift: a pack of your favourite small cakes

Now that's a pleasant surprise

You thank him and after that, an awkward silence stands between you

Zombieman clears his throat first and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out

Finally, he says good-bye to you and goes back to his hero work

As for you, you go back to your home

You're not quite sure what you're feeling

On one hand, you're worried that your favourite hero is not interested in you and you'll look stupid with your note

On the other hand, he did give you a gift

It must mean something, right?

You make tea for yourself and unpack cakes

As you start enjoying your treats, you notice a piece of paper

You take and unfold it

The text on the note says: "Hey, I'd really like to get to know you better. You already have my phone number, so text me if you feel the same :)"

You can't believe it

Zombieman IS interested in YOU

Oh my goooood

You immediately open your chat with Zombieman and start composing a message

Suddenly you get a new text from him, saying: "Hey, I read your note. I guess great minds think alike, huh? ;)"

A smile appears on your face and you type him back

Just like that, you spend the rest of the day texting with Zombieman

He asks you out

And of course you agree to go on a date with him on the next day in the cafe that you both like so much

Bonus:

Zombieman has a particular cafe where he likes to drink his coffee

And sometimes he spends time with Child Emperor there

He also notices a beautiful girl who visits this place regularly and takes her favourite pack of cakes and drink

Some time later, Zombieman realises that he subconsciously starts searching for you and wants to talk to you

He's attracted to you

Every time he runs into you and wants to start a conversation, he suddenly gets nervous

Now Zombieman is a calm man and he doesn't get nervous easily

So yeah, it means he likes you

One day he finally gets courage to talk to you and walks up to you

As he is about to say something

(he doesn't really know what to say in the first place)

You suddenly turn, bumping into him and spilling all your drink on him

Well, this is awkward

But the hero doesn't get mad because he understands that it's his fault too

When you start apologising and offering your help, he doesn't accept it in the begining

But then a thought that he could meet you again comes to his mind

And in the end, he agrees to your help

While you were washing his clothes, he was thinking about ways to ask you out

Zombieman wants to do it personally when you'll give him back his clothes

But he knows that he'll get nervous again

(that's why your meetings weren't full of small talks and conversations)

So he decides to settle for a backup plan: write a note and put it into the box with your favourite cakes

When you give him back his clothes, he feels like he finally has courage to ask you out

But Zombieman feels like something stuck in his throat and can't say anything

Well, it's a good thing he left a note, isn't it?

After meeting you, he puts on his cleaned coat and puts hands in the pockets

Suddenly he feels something in his pockets

It's a small note from you

A smile forms on his face as he reads it

Zombieman has nothing to worry about now

... Or so he thought

Asking you out was one thing, but spending time with you was another

The funny thing is that you didn't even know about hero's nervousness because he seemed calm as never before on your date

You love playing different viedogames

Online-shooters, horrors, RPG, life simulators, graphic novels, and even otome games...

Anyway, you weren't a person who had a lot of online- friends, despite the fact that you spend a lot of time in games

But one day you actually met a dude with the nickname "King"

Rather simple and rather "loud"

You first thought it was some guy who highly thought of himself

But while playing with him in the same team, you realised that he was cool

Moreover, you started playing together and even talking to each other

Soon enough, you were practically inseparable best friends, as you'd chat 24/7 about everything

You started feeling like you were soulmates

He's like your other other half

However, you two never thought spoke of meeting each other in real life

Today is the day you both were waiting for

A new awesome online game is out!

Both of you agreed to buy it today and play together in the evening

You step into the shop and start searching for the game among the showcases and shelves

But it's not here

You walk up to assistant and ask him about this game

Turns out, a package of game discs is still not in the shop, but it'll arrive soon enough (10-15 minutes)

Assistants suggest waiting and sitting down

You sit down near a tall man who is wearing a cap, face mask and sunglasses and is doing something in his phone

Weird, but okay

You suddenly get a text from "King"

"Loool, they still don't have the game in the shop"

"Bruh, really? I was about to text you the same. They say that package should arrive in 10-15 minutes. What about you?"

"Same here🤝"

"It'd be funny if we're talking about the same shop😆"

"I know, right?😁"

Suddenly you hear how the man chuckles

Both of you glance at each other quickly and then awkwardly get back to your phones

"Haha, I was texting you when suddenly a man laughed. It was unexpected, but funny😄"

As you send your text, you get a message from "King" in instant

"I've just chuckled at ur message and a girl, sitting near me, looked at me like I did something unacceptable💀"

What a coincidence

"Looool"

"Dude is also wearing a cap and sunglasses with a cap🌚"

"Hey, don't judge him, I'm wearing the same🥲"

"The same..?👀"

You glance up from your phone and look at the man who is looking right back at you

3... 2... 1...

"King?"

"Y-y/n, is that you?"

You excitedly chuckle

"It's really you, bro! Damn, you didn't lie about being tall!"

Both of you start eagerly talking to each other

"Damn, you're S-class hero King as well. Yeah, you're definitely a catch!"

You always feel comfort while talking to King and even dare to flirt with him

You've already accepted the fact that you have feelings for him

And you're almost sure he feels the same by the way he talks to you and flirts with you as well

(though most of his pick-up lines suspiciously sound like they were taken from some omance games or manga)

You don't notice how the time passes and the game package arrives

Despite your protests, King buys the game not only for himself but also for you

In order to make up for that, you suggest going to some cafe

King agrees to eat out but still ends up paying as he wants to be a gentleman

You pout as you feel awkward about this and start nagging King about making up for all of this

"Please, King! I'm embarrassed that you paid for everything! How can I make up for that?"

"You can make up by going out with me."

He smirks pleased, but then his eyes widen and his mouth is agape

"I-I..."

"King, were you serious right now?"

A glimmer of hope fills your chest

"I mean... Yes. I did."

You exhale with relief

"Really? I'd love to!"

Now it's King's turn to let out sigh of relief

Both of you can't believe that this day is real

As for the date, King said that he'd take care of it and tell you when and where you'll go

(yeah, your trip to the cafe today didn't count as a date)

Bonus:

King is just like you: spends a lot of time in games but doesn't have many friends there

And when you appear in his life, he actually gets happier and wants to play and chat with you more

The gamer also develops feelings for you rather fast but is scared to even hint on them

(not to mention, to see you in person)

What if you don't like him and he'll ruin your friendship? What if you won't like his looks if you meet in real life?

But when you start flirting with him, he gets more confident and flirts with you as well

(thanks to the manga he read and games he played, he had some pick-up lines in his sleeve)

When it turns out that you and King are in the same shop, he feels excited and terrified at the same time

Excited to see you

You're so gorgeous

And afraid that you won't like him and stop your communication with him

Thankfully, you eagerly spend time with him and even suggest eating out together

It means something, right?

He also insists on paying for everything because he really wants you to enjoy his company

Both of you have a great time together, telling different stories, laughing and flirting

So when you ask him how can you make up for spending money on you, he doesn't really know what to answer

Because every cent spent on you is worth it

(not that he minds paying for you in the first place)

Damn, he has fallen for you hard

He remembers how he'd rehearse how he's ask you out on a date

And the phrase "You can make up by going out with me" leaves his mouth smothly as if he's at home and says it to the mirror

But then the reality hits him

Should he take his words back? Or is it too late?

No, he decides that it's time to ask you out

Fortunately, you agree

Wow, he's never been happier before

[rainydayathogwarts]

Unregistered vehicle - Jim Hopper

summary: When Hopper interrupts a sleepover because of your unregistered vehicle, he is forced to take you to the station to complete some paperwork. wc: 2.3k+

Loud giggles on the other side of the front door have Hopper glancing down at his watch with a tired sigh. He could absolutely not deal with excited teenagers at this ungodly hour. The door swings open and you stand there with a wide smile. Clad in your tiny pyjama shorts and revealing tank top that allows everyone a view of your nipples, waving money in the air, you're clearly not expecting the Chief of Police to be standing at your door. Your hand drops down to your side and Hopper hears your disappointed mumble of "You're not the pizza guy." There's a long silence before your eyes widen and a quiet gasp leaves you. Quickly realising what you look like, you scramble to find a blanket or a jumper to cover yourself in, nearly slipping from the fluffy socks you're wearing before returning to the front door, with a hoodie halfway down your chest. It almost manages a smile out of Hopper. Almost.

"Chief!" You breathed out, smiling nervously. Hopper doesn’t know why you’re being so formal, the two of you were more than well acquainted with each other. "How can I help?" Hopper glances behind you into the unfamiliar house, where Nancy and Robin have paused their conversation to observe your interaction. He thought you lived on the other side of town, with your rich parents who leave the city every other week for business trips. Not here. Smiling ineptly at the two girls in the house, he turns his attention back to you. Nancy and Robin are frozen in place, and Hopper realises they are similarly styled to you. He's definitely more interested in your outfit than their's, taking a quick glance at what's exposed of your legs. He must have interrupted a sleepover. He sighs again. "Are your parents home?" You smile proudly, stating "There are no parents in this household, Chief." The man's eyebrows furrow. Tonight could not get more confusing. "What do you mean?"

You give him a moment to look around the inside of the small house. He's not surprised that there are no parents in the household, especially not yours. They'd probably have a heard attack if they saw this place. There's one couch in the living room, and your friends are sitting on a mattress that should probably be in the bedroom. The living room and open kitchen are completely bare, with the only other piece of furniture in the house being a television sat on the floor, connected to a single plug. Oh, and three glasses of wine and a half empty bottle. There's an open door leading to another room, where he can spot a few boxes strewn on the floor. "I've moved out. Want to join the housewarming party?" Hopper's face twists into one of confusion, and he asks "Isn't it dangerous for a young woman to be living all alone out here?" You shake your head with a 'nuh-uh' "Not all alone. It's me and Robin." You grin at the unfazed look on his face "Roomies!" Hopper reaches into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, lighting it up instantly. Your energy always makes him require a smoke, whether it be on a regular Tuesday night, or fighting demodogs with him in the woods.

"Well, there's a car outside that needs to be registered. I'm assuming that's you?" You nod sheepishly at the Chief's words. "I was going to do that first thing tomorrow morning, I swear... Jesus, it's warm in here." Hopper steps back as you quickly undo the covering up you had worried about so much, eyes widening when he finally gets to take a proper look at you. You look back to the girls in the room, pulling an annoyed face at them, and shut the door so that you're stood outside with Hopper. You cross your arms over your chest, looking up hopefully at the cop. "Well?" "I could fine you for this." You feel the blood drain from your face, and quickly throw your hands up, begging "No, come on Hopper! Do you know how expensive moving is? And having to- to get furniture!?"

The man in front of you laughs, nodding his head. "Look, if we go get it registered now, everything will be fine." He sees the way your face drops, an unimpressed look gracing your features. “Hop, come on. You know me! Can’t you just let it slide?” You whine, and for a second, the cop considers letting it go. But he’s already been too lenient with you in the past. "Won't even take thirty minutes and I won't fine you!" You make a show of throwing your head back with a groan before mumbling "Fine" and turning around to step into the house, sliding your feet into slippers, grabbing your jumper and following the Chief out your house without a single word to the girls in your living room.

The drive to the station is quick, the car filled with a comfortable silence. Hopper parks carelessly and you follow him outside, where he stomps his cigarette on the floor, and into the station. You're reaching to pull your jumper over your head when you notice how empty it is inside. You don't bother with your hoodie, holding it limply at your side, walking into the near empty station and into the Chief's office. Sitting down on a chair in front of Hopper's desk, you slip your feet out of your slippers, pulling your feet up on the chair and hugging your legs close to your chest. Hopper sits at his desk, opening and closing random drawers. You hear the shuffle of papers and rest your chin on your hand, watching lazily as he finally pulls out some very official looking paperwork.

Hopper begins scrawling things down on the paper and you stand up, rounding his desk to watch what he’s writing over his shoulder. One of your hands rests on Hopper’s big shoulder, the other one laid flat on the desk. You squint, unable to read his messy hand writing. “Okay!” Hopper announces, turning his chair to look up at you when he freezes. His eyes widen, and he takes his time looking over your revealing attire. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna freeze.” You shake your head, mumbling an “It’s fine.” and gesturing to your hoodie, but Hopper has already stood up, removing his sheriff’s jacket to sling it over your shoulder. He guides your arms into the big sleeves, ensuring your warmth before turning back towards the paperwork.

“Ooh, stylish.” You giggle, catching your reflection in the office window. You spin around, hands sunken in the pockets, and Hopper huffs at the sight, trying to hide his amusement. “Jesus, come… y/n, come sit down!” You mumble something under your breath, and begin approaching him again. Hopper raises an eyebrow at you when you stand next to him, gesturing for him to move his chair back. He listens, and is about to stand up, making a comment about ‘young audacity’, but instead, you plant yourself straight on his lap. Hopper’s eyes go wide, and his hands fly up as he tries to make sense of the situation.

You hum, leaning forward to read through the papers in front of you and your ass pushes back just right against Hopper’s cock. The older man nearly groans, but he holds himself back, listening closely as you ask “So what do I need to fill out?” Hopper gulps loudly, leaning forward to point specific slots out on the sheets of paper in front of you. You don’t hold back the grin on your face, hearing the shake in the man’s voice. “Here, license plate. Fuck, please tell me you know your license plate.” Hopper begs, both hands coming down to grip your hips. You make sure to ground them down in his lap, feeling the way his cock impossibly hardens underneath you. Hopper doesn’t bother trying to hide his grunt this time, his hips bucking up into you.

The unexpected movement had a surprised moan leaving your lips, and you feel Hopper’s chest vibrate with a deep laugh. “How’d you like that when it’s done to you?” He asks teasingly, but is brought to silence when you reply with an almost pornographic moan of “Oh god, so much.”

“Fuck, I knew these pyjamas were doing something to me.” ”That why you’re so desperate to cover me up, huh?”

You shoot back, grinding your hips down even harder on Hopper’s cock. “Shit, okay, that’s enough.” He finally exclaims, gripping both your hips and lifting you up slightly, a sign for you to get up. You squeak, spinning around to face the solemn faced officer. Shit, what if you had crossed a line? But those thoughts are immediately put to rest when Hopper stands up, pushing you back so you stumble against his desk, his big hand coming to cradle the back of your head as he brings you into a kiss.

Your reaction is immediate — melting against his chest as a loud moan rips out of yours. You grip his tie, desperately trying to bring him closer to you. Hopper breaks the kiss, mumbling against your skin “Your friends are going to get suspicious if you’re gone for long.” But you only throw your arms over his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours as you respond with “My friends are drunk Hop.” The man laughs, accepting the kiss you bring him into. One of his feet kicks your legs open and you gasp, mouth opening just enough to let Hopper slide his tongue into your mouth. Hopper’s hand moves from the back of your head and down your front, snaking into your pyjama shorts to feel around for your wetness. “Shit. We haven’t even done anything yet.” He teases, and you scoff, saying “I can say the same for you, soldier.”

Hopper huffs, watching as you cackle in front of him at your stupid comeback. He doesn’t ask before pulling your short down, making you gasp, eyes worriedly shooting straight to the glass windows and doors of the Chief’s office. “Lay back.” Hopper orders you, nodding towards his desk. You swallow thickly, hopping on his desk before laying down, your legs hanging over the edge of the table. Hopper carefully places the newly signed paperwork in one of his drawers before mindfully folding your legs up so your feet can rest on the edge of his desk. He quickly makes work of his belt, pushing his trousers and boxers down just enough for him to take his cock out.

Hopper grips your hips, experimentally thrusting his hips forward so that his dick brushes against your sensitive cunt. You gasp, watching the older man’s every move. He grins, meeting your gaze to wink at you, finally gripping his cock and lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper when he thrusts into you slowly, eyes glued on where his hips are pushing into you. Similarly, Hopper’s gaze is fixed on his cock stretching your pussy out, watching as your arousal engulfs his cock before dribbling out of your hole. “Oh yeah” Hopper whispers, more so to himself as he begins setting a pace that immediately has you moaning. “Oh god!” You cry, hands looking for anything to grip. Not finding anything to hold, they start trailing down your body until one of them lands on your clit, rubbing tight circles, the other one pinching at your nipples. Hopper curses loudly at the sight, increasing the power of each and every thrust into you.

Objects on the desk rattle with the power of each thrust, and a pen holder falls off the desk, causing a dozen of pens and pencils to go rolling on the floor. You moan loudly, thighs beginning to shake as pleasure shoots up your abdomen. “Yeah, that’s good.” Hopper praises as your pussy clamps down on his cock. He embraces the sight of you in his police jacket, and just the mere thought that it’s going to smell like you afterwards is enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. Hopper bottoms out with each thrust, his balls smacking against the skin of your ass. He pulls out all the way until just the tip is in before slamming all the way back in as hard as he can, which has you crying out due to his generous size, back arching against the cold wood of the desk.

Hopper’s hands move from your hips to your knees, which he uses to push your legs closer to your chest, leaning his body weight on your legs as he continues thrusting into you. The new angle has your head reeling, and one of your hands eagerly comes up to grip his wrist, as though that will bring you closer to your orgasm. You begin squirming at the stimulation, but Hopper only drills into you harder — it’s the least he can do with his pace slowing down. “Fuck you’re so needy. Pussy fucking swallowing my cock.” He grunts, watching as your pussy squeezes him in. It seems his words have a positive effect on you because you’re suddenly seeing white, back arching as your soul is brought to a different dimension.

You pussy flutters around Hopper’s cock, and he’s immediately halting inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. You gasp, back arching, and Hopper exhales deeply, gently releasing pressure off your legs, which flop tiredly on his desk, your entire body feeling exhausted. Hopper pulls out, and you hear the rattle of his belt as he makes himself modest again. You jump at the feeling of wet tissues on your cunt, looking up to find Hopper staring down at you worriedly. “Sorry kiddo. You okay down there?” You hum, nodding lazily and putting your hands up so that he can help you sit up. You tuck yourself deeper into Hopper’s jacket, hoping he’ll let you take it home, and it seems he reads your mind because when he pulls your shorts back up, he stands there for a moment smiling at you before finally saying:

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

[orangedodge]

I like what Eve Ewing and Gail Simone have going on between their books. Having the two more earnest, more extroverted, friends try to fix things for their more transactional, introverted, friend, and accidentally blow up her entire life along the way, makes for a much more interesting, more authentic, inter-cast conflict than just having yet another misunderstanding superhero fight. It works because it's completely understandable and within Rogue's existing character that she would take this approach, that it would not occur to her that sending Bobby to Chicago would read, to Kate, as an invasive attack against her privacy and peace of mind.

When Rogue was in a similar place, years ago, having Ororo and Bishop just crash back into her life, bulldoze over all of her half-hearted protests, and drag her back onto the team anyway, was actually exactly what she wanted, but was unable to admit. The heavy handed approach worked for her. It's working for her again right now as well--dragged back into the X-Men by Scott, and bringing Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Jubilee along for the ride, and everyone already feels much better than they did before. It makes sense that in her mind, what helped her, and helped her other friends, will help yet again, and that Kate will feel better once she lets them in.

Rogue's really just being a good friend, in the best way she can. Her only error is in not realizing that not everyone processes grief in the exact same way that she does, or in ways she finds personally palatable (which is a lapse you don't see from an Ororo Munroe or a Dani Moonstar, who have more experience with personalities that really do want to be alone to sort their own misery).

You have to feel for Bobby, who plainly thought he was appearing in a completely different story than where he actually was. From his perspective, he's just returned from the dead amidst a harrowing time for mutants, discovered their home destroyed, and most of their people exiled, and that one of his closest friends has abruptly abandoned him, cut off all contact with everyone, and is being distant and abrasive when he only tries to make sure she's okay.

(It goes unsaid that Bobby has stood a suicide watch for her in the past, but that's a history I'm sure Ewing is familiar with. I don't think his sense of urgency and worry should be read as anything but honest).

Judging by how his reactions are drawn, in both the dinner scene and the closing pages, I don't think Bobby had any idea what the actual underlying issue was. I expect he thought he would just show up, shame Kitty a bit over her lack of friendliness, share some embaressing stories with her girlfriend, and they'd both laugh it off and bond over their shared trauma. He doesn't realize yet that the source of her grief is completely at odds with his own, or with Rogue's. Bobby is mourning the loss of home, and of safety, while Kate's grief is the fear that all of her most toxic beliefs about herself were right.

I don't think anyone has told him, for example, that Synch and Talon had her off murdering people in the hundreds, while Rogue's team was doing the resistance stuff. I don't think he has any way to put it all together until the end, when he realizes he's triggered a flashback.

Issue #4 would read very differently from Bobby's perspective, framed as being duplicitous and manipulative while he is, in actuality, doing nothing wrong. He's arguably being a little too pushy, but Kate hadn't actually articulated a sense of boundaries to him until days after his arrival, and he does seem to dial it back and give her space once that happens

The real issue is that Kitty doesn't believe that anyone would ever visit her out of a place of genuine care, without wanting something from her in return. It's why she's more tolerant of Emma's intrusion, despite the tension between them. That relationship is one founded on mutual use with clearly defined terms and no possibility for surprise or disappointment. Bobby is a friend that she fears being disappointed by. And so she assumes nefarious intent when he isn't overtly after anything: either that Bobby is trying to acquire her for some undetermined x-plot, or that he's actually a dangerous villain in disguise and a threat to the kids.

I think it works overall, successfully misleading the reader into thinking there really is something going on, while not having Bobby do anything to actually earn the distrust he's being shown. It's natural that Trista would pick up on Kitty's hostility and not know any better, and that Emma--who has the same people issues as Kitty--would echo the paranoia.

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - Mansion Invasion

The drabble idea i have been wanting to write :3

There is some stuff that hapepend in between. But it is a few weeks after Ngihtmare joined the group :3

No edit's or beta we going.

*----------------------------*

"I still do not see the purpose of getting distracted from your mission of getting my relic." Nightmare sounds unamused from where he sits in the front seat.

Dust does not look up from the road "And I like to eat something other than dry rice once in a while." and the stupid cult activity ruined most ghost hunting jobs so he needs to branch out.

Sure he hasn't hunted other supernatural stuff in a while but this shouldn't be that hard.

It are only like sex demons. And those never managed to affect him before so all things considered it is a very save job to do for Dust.

Killer whines as he uses Cross's body to lean over the back of the chair "Why is Nightmare allowed in thr front seat?!"

Ash huffs "Because you try to distract Dust while he is driving like now! Back off!"

Cross pouts as he hangs in the air with his arms crossed. Waiting for his body to finish kicking Killer out.

They figured out that once Cross's reinhabites his body he has two full days before his spirit and body become weak to possession again. Which means Killer will force his way in. Then it is a matter of who is stronger at the moment and kick the other out. If Cross remains he gets two more uninterrupted days. If Killer wins it takes the body a bit over a day to kick him out himself.

THere was this day once where both somehow managed to stay in the body and that was weird. Killer cooed about them sharing and maybe that would make for a dope threesome. Cross had turned to Horror and asked the other ghost to hit Killer which Horror happily did.

This morning Killer had won and seems to be Killer's turn to drive the body.

Dust had once asked Cross why he didn't just go back to the church to be safe. but Cross had looked embarressed as he shot him looks before muttering about how it seemed ungrateful to just let Dust fix his mess and than not even help with repaying the deal Dust had been forced to make for Cross.

Dust appreciates his assistance. Even if Cross also tends to wake in his bed now. At least he apologises. Soemthing about weird body sharing shenigans and habits. Dust didn't pay enough attention.

Etiher way!!

Work.

They drive for a moment in blissful silence.

Nightmare sighs as he looks out of the window "And what exactly does this work include?"

Dust keeps staring ahead "We are going to a mansion. Where I will search the area and find the source of an incubus and succubus infection. Once cleared I will get paid." and he will finally be able to buy some coffee and sigs. He hasn't had either in so long and he is craving both so badly.

Also maybe some medicine for his migraines and headaches. Those are starting to really bother him. Painkillers for his aching body from all his magic would also be nice. It may even finally stop the constant shakign of his right hand and arm.

Nightmare frowns "We are going to clean out a demon infestation?"

Dsut shakes his skull "No. I am. You all i just don't trust to leave in my appartment alone so you are coming along."

Ngihtmare looks insulted "I do not need a babysitter."

Dust doesn't even bother to answer that "We are almost there."

Cross frowns as he leans closer "How will you fix this anyway?"

Dust doens't look away from the road "Incubus and sucubus spread the same way. Having sex and letting the victim drink some of the blood of the demon. It makes the victim into one of them."

Killer gasps "No! If you want sex I can show you an amazing time!" and he grins.

Dust shoots him a glare before quickly looking ahead of them "I am not going to have sex with any of them you idiot! That is the exact opposite of what i am trying to do!"

Horror looks interested "So how would you fix it?"

Dust sighs "You remove the demon energy of the one who started the chain. You end the source it cleans all the ones following it. so all i need to do is find the original demon that infiltrated the place. cleanse them. and all the others will be fixed too!"

Cross hums "That sounds relatively easily..."

Ngihtmare chuckles "sounds much too easy. How will you make sure they don't trick you or infect you?"

Dust huffs "please i have dealt with them before and they never could do shit against me because i don't find anyone attractive. Hard to transform and look like someone you like when you don't have anyone." it did mke it very easy for him to spot the demons and cleanse them.

Dsut just hopes he can find the original one and doesn't have to fix each victim one by one as that would just take a lot of magic and energy that he does not have. which means he needs to focus on finding the source.

They stop before a long driveway which leads to a big mansion. It looks beautiful as it stands proud between large fields grass.

Killer snorts "Well someone is compansating for something." and he chuckles.

Ngihtmare looks unimpressed at the mansion "Honestly it looks unsightly. It isn't even that large. They clal that a mansion nowadays?"

Dust has the feeling this will be a long day. He turns his chair around and kicks killer out of the way as he walks to his equipment. He looks for a moment before just bringing his notebook with exorsice rituals. He grabs an amulet as well. Dust checks and is happy to note that the crystal powering it is fully chargest. Hopefully with this he can easily deal with this. He tugs the amulet away in his scarf.

All ready.

He leaves his van and waits for the two bodies to actually leave it as the three spirits just float around.

Dust leads the way and speaks "Now. Remember. We will be in a nest filled with these demons. Don't do anything that could get you infected." he shoots Killer a glare specifically "You especially."

Killer puts ahand on his chest "You wound me Dusty. As if i would ever cheat on you with someone else. You know you are my one true love."

Dust shakes his skull as he glances at Nightmare.

Nightmare looks amused "As if i would desire mortals or lowly demons like them."

Dsut raises a brow "Then why are you also in my bed in the morning?"

Nightmare grins "your mortification is delicious. Almost as tasty as Killer's jealousy." Killer glares and Dsut just shakes his skull.

He knocks on the door.

A butler opens and looks at him disapproving "Oh. Can I help you?"

Dust nods as he takes out his phone and searches for the email wiht directions "Yes. I am Dust. Master Erised and I had contact about a small... infestation? that needed clearing?"

The butler frowns as he looks them all over. His sight remaining on the three in actual bodies and not once glancing at the ghosts. "I see. please. come in." they walk into the large hall with many fancy paintings and some vases around. The butler mentions for them to wait there as he goes to get the master of the house.

They wait as Ash does his job and inspects everything around the hall quickly wihtout leaving any traces. he returns and says he doesn't see cameras or any symbols or magical markers. Meaning the demons are fully concentrate on just expending forces. maybe even trying to make a new nest.

That is when a man in a large coat with a fur lining walks down the stairs. his grin wide and arms open "Ah! The exterminator! Dust was it?" he smiles charming as he stops before them. Looking all three of them over.

Dust nods "Mister Erised I assume?" he holds out a hand.

The man nods as he takes his hand and kisses it. Killer postures and glares and Dust mentally takes note that the master had already been taken over by the infection. Shit. okay. Timelimit is very short in that case.

The man lets Dust take his hand back and looks amused when Dust rubs the back of his hand on his hoody.

The man speaks a bit about how he thought there was an infection but it seems to have sorted itself out already. But he hadn't thought to email him quite yet. He apologises and encourages them all to spend the night to rest up. assuring him that they will obviosuly still be paid as he hadn't cancelled.

Dust nods along and they are shown around the mansion before ending up in a visitors wing where the man shows three different bedrooms for them to use. All a bit apart from one another and not one wall shared between the different rooms. He encourages them to get comfortable and wash up before meeting him in the hall when he will show them around the property more.

He leaves them be.

Dust just waves Nightmare nad Killer along to his room where he drops off most of their things and starts searching it.

Killer stretches "So... waste of time? at least you will still get paid."

Nightmare answers before he can "Oh no. the demons are still very much here. they just infected the mansions owner."

Dust nods "They are making this place a nest." he gets some tools prepared before hiding those on his person. "We will all work in groups. Ash will obviously wiht me. Cross? horror? who will stay with Killer and who will stay wiht Nightmare in their own rooms?"

Cross glares a tKiller "as if i am leaving Killer alone with my body. especially with it being at risk of being infected." Horror looks fine with it and floats to be more by Ngihtmare's side.

They all clean up in the bathroom by taken turns before leaving some token clothes in the other rooms. after which they move downstairs to meet with their host who shows them across the property and introduces them to many, many, servants and maids that all tend to his needs. He grins and winks as he says they will tend to any need they may have.

Dust thinks the demon lays it on a little thick. which honestly? not the smartest move as they are here specifically to get rid of the sex demons. why try and play with fire by flirting with them?

Then again.

Dust glances at Ngihtmare who has about five different servants eeying him. Nightmare seems to fall in favour. May be because the others see the more mortal form over the black goop and tentacle form that Dust and the others can see. Dust only managed to see glimps of that form in mirrors but that one looks like a very pretty skeleton with soft purple eyelights.

Killer, or better said Cross, also seems to fall in favour. Which Dust also gets. Cross works out and it shows. Dust knows that is generally well liked and appreciated by others.

Ngihtmare looks amused "As lovely as the pool looks. we did not bring swimwear. I am afraid we will have to decline."

One of the humans talking to him. Maybe one of the daughters of the lord? Grins and mentions how they don't mind skinny dipping. And she and her sisters are more than happy to join in if it makes them more comfortable.

Nightmare just smiles and shakes his skull "It seems rather rude." he gives a partial bow "Thank you for the offer." the demon infected humans look annoyed and sad but accept it.

Dust does notice a few making eyes at him. But as soon as they do Killer is by his side and glaring challenging at the ones looking. Dust doesn't see why Killer is so worried. Dust isn't attractive and so he doubts he will actually become a target. Not to forget Dust doens't have any interest himself. Meaning it is fine.

One very large meal later they split up to go to their own rooms.

Dust is only in there for a moment. Enough to give the others time to go to their rooms before grabbing what he needs and leaving his room again. He has the first incubus or succubus to find.

--

Nightmare stretches as he checks his appearance in the mirror. He does not like that the look in the mirror shows his old form. Even if he is lacking the wings he used to have.

At least there aren't any clear angel marks on him anymore. As much as the fall was painful adn horrible he does appreciate that the fall burned away all marks he had as angel.

He touches his back where his wings used to be. He can almost see his full old form as he stares at himself. the markings of the moon on his skull. the stars as a crown over him. The six wings all snow white aside from the purple tips of the feathers.

At least he is outside of that locked realm now.

In truth Nightmare does not care that Dust is working on something other than getting the relic Ngihtmare asked for. It had been the quickest thing he could think about that would ahve sounded reasonable while Ngihtmare searched for what he actually wanted.

His soul.

His soul is somewhere locked on this earth. Hidden away from him and with him suposedly stuck in hell he would never have been reunited with it and regain all of his powers.

Onc ehe has those. He won't have to worry about being banished again. He will be truly free to go wherever he wants.

but for him to be able to find his soul he needs some of his powers and energy back. Which is why he is staying witht he mortal and his spiritual guests. They are all wells of emotions and so easy sources of power for Nightmare.

Ngihtmare sighs as he turns abck to the room "Just have patiences." he is already one step closer to being free than before. At least Dsut had managed to actually figure out how to summon him instead of fucking up the ritual circle and leaving it useless for him to actually cross over.

Now.

Is it late enough to join the sleeping other? trigger some of those emotions he can eat and absorb as he relaxes back in the company of the warm body-

knocks on his door.

Nightmare frowns as he looks up "Who is there?"

a moment of silence before the door creaks open. It is Dust?

Nightmare frowns as he tilts hsi skull at him "Dust? Is something the matter?"

Dust shrugs as he sidesteps into the room.

Horror frowns "Dust? Are you okay? Did something happen?" he looks around "Where is Ash?"

Dust however ignores horror and walks to his side and leans against him. Nightmare freezes before one tendril pulls Dust a bit closer. He is freezing "Dust?"

Dust mumbles as he pushes clsoer to his side "Cold..."

Ngihtmare frowns. That con't be right. Mortals shouldn't be this cold. Is he getting sick? He hadn't noticed something in the food he ate that could ahve been dangerous. And the demons here shouldn't be able to stela his life force from a distance- unless!

Ngihtamre frowns and rubs his arm "Did one of them get to you?"

Dust shakes his skull and pushes clsoer "Wnat to be close... can i stay?"

Horror frowns "somethign is off... Dust?"

nightmare nods "of course." they will hunt the demons in the morning. He leads Dust back and helps him in first before joining the other. He is still so cold. He rubs the other's arms and back to hopefully get abit of warmth back into the other "I will go grab another blanket."

Dust keeps a tight hold on him "No... we can..." he mutters before looking away "nevermind."

Nightmare can't help but smile. Dust isn't often shy about anything. He just holds the other "What would bring you comfort?" maybe he wants more food? Nightmare had noticed he eats very little and Dust gets defensive when they point it out. Maybe he feels awkward for wanting more?

Dust looks at him and pulls back a bit as he slowly starts to undo his hoody as he mutters "quick way is to share bodyheat..."

Horror hold sup his hands before covering his own sockets "Wait! Dust! I am still here! also not the time?!"

Ngihtmare realises right away were this is going. wait is there an aura at work? to get them more worked up or-

Dust undoes his scarf and drops it to the side.

Ngihtmare doesn't think and throws the fake off his bed and against the wall.

The face goes from shy to hurt for a moment before a knowing grin appears "What is wrong?" the demon stands up striahgt and taps down the dirt of them "You can't be shy now."

Ngihtmare glares as he is off the bed himself and on the other side of the room "you are not dust." why hadn't his tentacle impaled the weaker demon for daring to do that? For invading his space and imply those things?!

The demon grins as they walk over. swinging the hips nad Nightmare raises his tendrils at the ready. The demon does not see his warning as they get right into his personal space with a purr "You know you want to. You can't stop looking at him. Watching him. Anytime anyone makes a comment he is all you see. I can be him. I can act how he would act. You can have him right now."

Nightmare can't believe it but it sounds tempting. His tentacles just hang there. unwilling to attack the image of Dust. The idea of seeing Dust impaled on his tentacles? Dying on them? Even if it isn't really him?

Oh...

Oh no.

This is not the time for this.

The demon grins as they put their arms around his neck "See?" they pull back and Ngihtamre is treated to the image of Dust licking his teeth with a sly grin. Nightmare can feel his magic spark with interest even as he knows it is fake.

It looks so real.

It feels real.

The demon even smells like Dust-

Horror flies through the demona nd the image flickers.

Dust is gone and one of those needy daughters is in view.

The demon is impaled with a tentacle within moments and the human dies.

The body drops and Ngihtmare pants as he and horror are left in the room.

Horror shoots him a glance "so... about those desires for mortals you don't have-"

Ngihtamre glares "shut. up." he grabs his jacket "lets just look for the others." and leaves the room.

--

Killer pouts as he lays in the room alone. He lays on his back dramatically and sighs loudly.

Cross looks at him annoyed "Can you stop that and just go to sleep already?"

Killer glares at him "It is unfair! I finally got control and now I can't even enjoy my nightly cuddle and groping with Dusty? It is rude!" he pouts.

Cross huffs "You shouldn't even do those!"

Killer raises a brow at him "Says the one who also does it."

Cross sputters "That isnt!" he glares as he blushes, heh Cross is rather cute when he blushes, "it isn't my fault you got my body used to sleeping with dust!"

Killer grins "man i wish it was that. I would kill to be allowed to fuck him."

Cross sputters again and hides his face "You know i didn't mean that!"

Killer laughs but stops when the door creaks. He sits up but grins when he spots dust "Dust bunny!" he makes grabby hands "come lay in bed with me!" he wants to hold him. and kiss him. and grope him a little!

Dust looks at him before smilign a bit and walking closer. Fuck dust looks pretty when he smiles. Dust needs to smile more often! Killer will happily be silly if it means dusty smiles more and- huh?

Killer stares for a moment before pouting "Why did you take edge-lord wiht you?" he pouts but gets out of bed. If Dust and Nightmare are here it is most likely to do with the actual job thing so fine.

Dust however just pushes him back on the bed and joins him. Huh!?

Cross makes a very curious highpitched noise "Dust?! Dust! That is my body still!" he is blushing madly.

Killer is ready to tell Cross to shut it when Dust hums "hey cross... mind us joining you?"

Killer immediantly pushes the demon off of him and jumps back to the other side of the bed. Dust frowns at him as Killer takes out a knife "Not a step closer demon. Where is my dusty?" he glances at ngihtmare but nightmare just stands there like a statue and doens't move to attack dust "Nightmare! that isn't dust!"

Nightmare just tilts his skull at him and speaks calmly in that smooth deep voice "Of course it is dust." he is so still. his tendrils are all not even moving.

Killer blinks and cross curses "oh shit." cross flies over and waves his hand in front of nightmare's face but there is no reaction. Cross floats backwards "holy shit. They are both demons! Killer!"

Killer glances at them... and rushes towards the door. He kicks it open and runs outside. Cross close behind.

Killer pants as he rushes to dusts room and kicks in the door again. The room is empty thank fucking god. He checks the last room only to find a dead human on the ground.

Killer pants "okay. okay. the others are fine. no idea where but shit." the demons leave his room and killer starts running again "deos explain why those tendrils were not idling or anything!"

Cross flies by his side and shoots him a look "... wait so you find nightmare hot? since when?"

Killer turns a corner "Not the time!"

--

Dust looks around the corner and frowns. Everythign is way too quiet.

Ash looks around as well and huffs "okay. So. We checked the bedrooms. Nothing that looks like a base or nest... wait did these demons actually nest like monsters or is it more of a metaphor?"

Dust walks down the empty halls as he checks corner after corner "I think it is both. The mansion is the metaphorical nest. but the first in the chain will remain inside the actual nest nest as its underlings do the work to make underlings nad collect like the sex energy?" he probably should have read up on them before this job.

Ash nods "Right! You got the amulet ready?"

Dust nods "Just need to get close enough. Which should be easy enough."

Ash snorts and nods "Just act interested." he looks amsued "I am sure your boyfriends will love to know you flirted with another demon."

Dust glares at his brother "stop calling them my boyfriends."

Ash laughs and Dust rolls his eye lights only to yelp as he almost runs into someone.

Dust glances up and glares "Killer!" well he assumes it is still killer and not cross as killer had had body dips "What are you doing out of bed?!" he hisses as he glances around nervously.

Killer grins at him and smiles "I wanted to be with you!" and he hugs him as the hands wander. Dust doesn't even think as he just hits him on the top of his skull. hard.

Killer yelps and pulls back with a pout.

Dust glares "Where is Cross?" Killer has the nerve to look confused around him but Dust just shakes his skull at him "Nevermind. Stay quiet and don't mess this up or so help me!" he turns and continues on his path.

Ash huffs as Killer "way to lose your buddy in a buddy system. You lot had one job."

Killer just ignores Ash and Ash huffs angerly "Dsut! your boyfriend is ignoring me again!"

Dust hfufs "No my boyfriend."

Killer blinks "wha-"

Dust glares a thim "hush. I am working." and he checks another corner. He feels a hand trail his hip and he just kicks backwards.

A loud groan and Dust shoots Killer an unamused look "No need to be so dramatic. You are a skeleton. you don't even have a dick out at the moment." if killer has summoned his ecto in a place that is infested with sex demons dust would have actually marshed him outside and locked him in the van. Dust will apologise to cross later if he actualyl hurt his body.

Dust takes afew more steps and looks back annoyed "Either keep up or get to a safe space i am not in the mood to drag you along." Killer just groans and Dust rolls his eye lights as he walks away. seems like killer jsut wants to be dramatic.

Ash looks insulted "can't beleive that asshole ignored me the whole time."

Dust shrugs "Killer just is like that sometimes. Any demons?"

Ash shrugs "Not that i noticed wandering."

and they walk deeper into the building. Dust quickly finds the kitchena dn looks around "There should be a wine cellar we can still check." the only places they hadn't checked in the tour and originally sweep fo the place are the cellar, attic and the shed in the garden. But Dust doubts it will be the shed as that would be too far away from the mansion stuff for the demons to easily enjoy.

He searches and grins when he finally finds it. he crouches down and tugs on the panel.

"How is that going?"

Dust jumps and looks back just to glare "Ngihtmare i keep telling you to not sneak up on me!" he glances around but no one is nearby. Dust turns back to open the door to the cellar "You better not have been followed."

Ash huffs "YOu saw the idiot in the hallway on your way or did Killer go back to the room?"

Nightmare hums as he leans closer "I did not see anyone along the way." he looks down into the cellar before looking at Dsut with a grin "Getting some wine?" he looks amused.

Dust just looks unamused at him as he starts climbing down "You know very well what i am doing. stop playing dumb." and he climbs down. He looks around the cellar but just sees rows and rows of bottles. mmh. He walks forwards as he ignores Ngihtmare joining him.

He makes sure to check for anymore trapdoors and pathways downwards but it seems there is only one level to this place. which is gigantic btw.

Dust glares "Honestly who needs this much wine?"

Ash snorts "Maybe they are alcoholics?"

Dust freezes and laughs as he shakes his skull "maybe!" and he snorts.

Nightmare joins his side and puts a hand behind him on the small of his back. euh?

Dust shoots him an unamused look "Ngihtmare."

Ngihtmare smiles back "Dust." and he leans closer "We are all alone."

Ash coughes loudly "excuse you?!"

Nightmare acts as if he didn't hear Ash "No one to interrupt us having a moment. We can get comfortable. Open a wine bottle or two and well." he smiles "just enjoy each other's company."

Dustjust stares at him. Ngihtmare keeps smiling. Dust keeps staring. His smile slwoly drops as Ngihtmare glances to the side before looking back at him with a new smile.

Dust speaks slwoly "You are going. to remove your hand. from my hip. Or lose it." and he smiles back.

Nightmare slowly removes the hand.

Dust huffs and turns towards the exit "You two are acting worse than normal tonight. Honestly. here of all places!"

Ash floats after him "you need to train your not-boyfriends better."

Dust huffs "working on it." and he climbs the ladder.

Dust leaves the cellar and makes his way towards the attic. He meet skiller along the way but killer is still being his annoying self as he tries to grope him and rub against him from behind. Dust obviously hits him in the area of the kidneys and that makes him stop.

Weirdest part is that Dust ahsn't seen either Horror or Cross yet however. maybe those two are actually sticking together? In that case Dust wishes Nightmare nad Killer would stay together and watch each other's backs.

He meets Ngihtmare just as he gets to the cellar and Nightmare smiles a thim but Dust just points behind him "No. You either go meet up wiht Killer and watch each other's backs. Or you are going to look for Horror and stay with the original buddy system."

Ngihtamr elooks confused "Horror?"

Dust sighs "Yes. Horror. YOu know? the person who you were suposed to stick together with?!" Dust just sighs annoyed as Nightmare keeps looking confused. Dust just points down the hallway and glares "Go meet up with either of them. I am fine and hoenstly it is a lot easier without either of you distracting me. Leave." and he climbs the ladder towards the attic before closing the door behind him.

THERE!

Ash sighs "They are so rude tongiht. They keep ignoring me!" he pouts.

Dust shrugs as he inches around the attic. He feels a warm air around them and smells many different scented candles around.

Dust moves slowly as he glances around a corner. There is a whole group od maids and servants all cuddled together. all having this hazed look about them as they cuddle together. Dust searches the group and tries to find who the leader is.

Ash mutters "it is a whole harem. at elast we found the nest. Let me search the area." and he flies off as Dust studies those here.

He slowly takes the amulet out of his scarf and pushes it up one of his sleeves. Now it is just a matter of finding the right target and-

A tap on his shoulder and Dust glares before freezing. ah shit that is the butler.

the butler tilts his head at him "Hello. Is there soemthing we can help you with?"

Dust thinks as he tries to think of an excuse "I... thought i heard something... and got curious... I apologise." he mutters as he tugs deeper into the hood. He can smell the demon's scent now. His mind is starting to ache of all the different energies and magics trying to pull him under a trance.

The butler nods "I do apologise that we bothered you." a hand is slowly nudging him towards the nest. Dust lets it happen.

Dust glances back and sees Ash fly near one of teh nobels. the son it seems. Ash is pointing at him and points to his neck. Dust glances and spots the mark and tiny cut. seems like that is where the original demon shared their blood through. and the son brought it back here and got to work.

Dust lets the butler lead him right into the nest as a very people push themselves against him. smiling at him and rubing his sides.

Dust mutters about feleing flattered but not really being into this thing. making a show of scooting away from the maids offering this while making sure the movement brings him clsoer to the nobel's son.

The butler just bows and leaves to get food and refreshments around as Dust keeps moving strategically until he is right by his target.

The son chuckles and smiles at him. his eyes a pure pink as the demonic energy has taken him over completely "Is there someone you have in mind? We can make your wildest dreams come true?" his form shimmers and Dust blinks in shock as he for a moment looks like Killer. Not jsut killer in cross's body but actual killer. The spirit he met. a moment later he looks like acutal cross. then nightmare, the nightmare he knows not the version they know. and a moment later like horror.

Then the nobel looks like himsefl again as he frowns "I can't seem to be able to settle... your interest seems... divided." he grins "but we are with many... you just need to let us and we will happily bring you bliss and whatever you desire-"

Dust cuts him up by showing the amulet right in his face. The amulet works right away and the pink light leaves his eyes and the people around him all shudder and seem to drop like flies.

Dust is left surrounded by unconcious bodies all in different levels of undressed.

Dust and Ash are quiet.

Ash shoots him a disapproving look "Serioously?! You find them attractive?!" he sounds insulted.

Dust sputters "No?! Maybe? I don't know?! Maybe it is just... I only had contact wiht them?! So that is all the magic could pick up?!" he dind't find them attractive! Right? Like. He never thought any of those kind of things about them!

Sure he found it more annoying than insulting when killer or cross climbed in his bed but that was just because he is used to it! and nightmare. well. nightmare made it obvious he is just in it for the negative emotions! And horror is just a pleasant guy!

Dust crosses his arms "there is nothing there. they are just guys i actually hang out with aside form you. Stupid demons must think because those are the only relationships i have going that it are those type of things."

Ash looks unconvinced but nods "lets just look for the lord and tell him you found the source. get actual payment for this dumpster fire."

Dust couldn't agree more.

--

The lord of the house was horrified to realise what had happened. as those influenced did keep some of their memories from the whole ordeal. He ended up paying them extra for the work and assaults they had to suffer.

Dust was unamused to find otu that SOMEONE had killed the lord's duaghter.

Luckily it was rather easy to blame someone else aside form them on that and wiht the demonic energy having gone around the lord wasn't that interested in a full blown investigation.

The nobel son had almost no memories or the whole thing. in his mind he wasn't even suposed to be home yet but still on a skiing trip with his friends.

Yeah.

It was a fucking disaster.

But Dust got a nice payout and even a large bonus for not giving up on them and still fixing their issue and also some apology money. and hush money to not sure that the family had gotten infected.

The drive back was awkward as Dust shoots the others a look "You guys are more quiet than usual..." he glances forwards again. He hadn't been worried before but maybe something happened after all? "did... are you guys okay? None of them got to you?"

Killer is quick to hug and nuzzle him "of course not! I would never cheat on you love! You are the one i love and the only one i TRULY desire!"

Dust frowns at him "I wasn't.. I didn't mena that! I just... you guys weren't hurt right?" he hadn't... he figured it would have been fine but he hadn't thought there would ahve been that many...

Killer shakes his skull and muttered "a few tried but none of them got to me! I figured it out quickly and just ran around the whole night!" he looks proud of himself. Cross nods his agreement and confirmed that is all that happened.

Horror speaks calmly "a few tried wiht nightmare as well. but none succeed. we got out of the area of them and hid." he glances at nightmare. waiting.

Ngihtmare waves it off "More insulting than anything. them thinking i would even want them." he hasn't looked at them yet.

huh...

Dust files that information away. Seems like they had stuck to the buddy system after all...

Maybe this whole trip had beena bad idea after all...

He shakes his skull.

No. There is nothing there. THe demons must have just confused the casual relationships they have for interested. That must be it. There is no way Dust is actually interested.

No way at all.

[thatdemiboymess]

Trying to explain the symptoms of your mental illness to the person responsible for that particular mental illness (it is C-PTSD) without straight up saying or even implicating "yeah, I can't do dishes when other people are around without having a panic attack because of how you used to come up behind me while I was doing dishes and would hit me" is...so fucking difficult. And it is additionally vexing to be told afterwards "maybe you just had low blood sugar." I want to maul.

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

Tags in the comments! ❤️

[autistichalsin]

In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.

Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?

Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.

More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.

But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.

A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.

Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.

So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.

Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.

It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.

There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:

The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”

A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.

It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.

And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.

Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.

Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.

So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.

Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.

So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.

And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.

And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.

And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.

Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.

Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).

It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.