#oh and also that shirt becomes like a fandom staple

[itsangelicasworld]

One of my absolute favorite scenarios in my Teen Titans DR is me wearing an "I ♥︎ Robin" shirt in public. The fandom goes insane. Speculations are off the charts. Everyone thinks this is either a declaration of love or some type of meta commentary. In reality, I saw the shirt at my local mall and thought "lmao this is so funny everyone's gonna get a kick out of this"

[dibbiedabbiedoobie]

Cage

Another voretober prompt! Cage, this time. Do not look at me for the fandom, I also have a Pri/de & Pre/jud/ice fic laying around somewhere. Vore brain never stops, not even for classic literature. I also did try to imitate the style a little but like... i am Bad at That lmao

Word Count: 1882 Fandom: The Gre/at Gat/sby Tags: safe vore, soft vore, unwilling prey, fearplay, fatal vore (implied, past) Summary: Nick is a tiny caught and conditioned to eventually become a pliant meal. Gatsby is the giant who steals him.

Shivering, I curl inwards on myself, trying to burrow deeper into my thin, raggedy shirt. It's terribly cold in Tom's cellar now that winter has set, and the metal flooring of my cage only saps at what little warmth I have left. I crouch on my toes, trying to limit contact, but it helps little. Really, all it does is upset my ribs, which are still bruised from yesterday's "training," as Tom calls it. In actuality, it's more akin to torture. At the slightest fault -- or even lack thereof -- he likes to squeeze me until my bones feel as though they're about to snap. It's most common for him to simply take me around the chest and crack a few ribs, but he's also narrowly avoided breaking my limbs and skull. He likes to drop me, too. Never from too high, lest he lose his toy, but enough to hurt and leave me winded. My body is splattered with bruises of various colors, like a macabre sort of painting. I wish I had someone to gripe with, to share complaints and comforts, but I'm the only one left. There were twelve of us, but Tom gobbled them up as it suited his fancy, forcing me to listen as they were slowly digested alive. Those muffled screams haunt my sleep, sometimes wake me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. I know I'll be next, soon. As much as I seem to be Tom's favorite, I'm still only a snack to him. The thought makes me equal parts terrified and relieved; God knows I don't want to die, but at least I'll be free from the bruises, beatings, and constant anxiety. My heart leaps into my chest as the cellar door creeks open, though my body is too sore to jump. A man appears, tall and broad and clean-shaven, with short-clipped blond hair. He wears a sweater vest over a collared shirt, and neat black slacks; if he weren't about to kill me, I'd call him handsome. As it is, I whimper softly and press as far away from the cage door as I can manage. Though I know my death is inevitable, I still don't wish it to come now. Surprisingly, he falters, almost as if my own shock put him off. His face softens, and he whispers a mournful, "Oh, poor thing..." I remain pressed against the back of my cage, mindful not to ever meet his eyes (a staple of Tom's training). His voice sounds so sad, and it thoroughly confuses me. Perhaps he's upset I clearly can't put up the sort of fight he wants? Or because I don't have enough meat to be as filling a snack as he would like? He bends down to get a better look at me, and I can't help but feel like a mouse under a cat's scrutinizing eye. Trapped, waiting to see if their captor is hungry enough for this particular meal. "Jay! Where'd you go?" Tom's muffled voice calls from above, startling the man. The giant -- Jay -- bites his lip, then flips open the lock to my cage. "Sorry about this, old sport." Immediately, I grab a hold of the bars -- for as much as this place has represented captivity, it's represented safety, too. Here, I wasn't hurt or squeezed or threatened. As awful as it was, cold and uncomfortable and dark, it was safe. More safe than the hands of a giant could ever hope to be. Jay... hesitates before reaching for me. I don't understand that either, though I suppose it doesn't matter much; he's still planning to eat me, and no amount of pity will stop his stomach acids. With terrifying ease, he plucks me away and lifts me aloft. His fingers are almost too hot against my frigid skin, and I can't help a sharp yelp. "You're so cold, old sport," murmurs Jay, yet again mournful. "I'll have that fixed up in a jiffy. Just relax, alright? Trust me." He opens his maw wide, too-sharp teeth gleaming in the dim lights. He starts to lower me inside, and suddenly I find my voice. "S-Stop!" I cry, beginning to wriggle for all I'm worth. "Please! No! Let me go, please!" Of course, it does nothing to stop the giant from pushing my body onto his tongue. My heart feels like it's somehow going even faster, and I keep squirming, though to no avail. Something raw and pained bubbles in my throat, until a scream comes out. What little light there is begins to dim, and I realize he's closing his mouth, Try as I might, though, I can't get the traction on his tongue to wrench myself free, not before I'm locked in the dark behind a wall of teeth. Jay ignores me, instead tossing me about and slathering me in spit. His tongue is probing, thorough with its work, making me squirm and fight against it. He spends far less time than I expect enjoying me, though; too soon, gravity tips, and a thick glk! drags me into the hot and tight of his throat. The powerful muscles squeeze my body, press in on my chest and make it near impossible to breathe, let alone squirm. I can feel myself growing light-headed, though I suppose that's for the best, given that I'm already going to suffocate. Unfortunately, I'm still conscious when I finally squeeze into Jay's stomach. For a long moment, I simply sit, let the dizziness fade. Then, I simply sit, let reality sink in. I'm going to die here. Soon enough, acids will pour from the walls, the air will thin, and I'll die. If I still had tears left, I might cry. Instead, I pull myself into a ball and wait; there's no point squirming, not anymore. The flesh around me groans, briefly squeezing me tighter than my already snug confines before relaxing. It's already trying to digest me, I belatedly realize. And yet, it never manages to get further. The acids never come, and there's little the churning can do to break down something not already acid-softened. The air, stale though it may be, remains breathable, somehow. Frankly, I don't understand it. Why would Jay eat me, but not digest me? Was it even intentional? What is he going to do with me once he realizes I'm not turning into mush like I should be? I can hear him talking to someone, presumably Tom. He seems in a hurry to leave, no doubt because he indulged himself in the last of the other giant's stock. Perhaps in a rush to get home, take whatever medicines he needs to kick his digestion into gear. I relax, just enough to settle. There's no point in remaining stiff; I'm helpless, and we both know it. The least I can hope for is death to be swift when it comes. I find myself looking around, feeling the walls, though I know there's not really much to find. It's as dark and cramped as I'd imagined a stomach to be, though much, much softer, almost like a hammock made of plush pillows. Saliva, or whatever the fluid around me happens to be, covers every inch, including myself. It's warm as well, warm enough that it feels like a blanket rather than just the air. It's... comfortable, I realize. Far more comfortable than I think an organ meant to process food has any right to be. I startle as something presses against my side and someone rumbles, "Are you alright, old sport?" I blink. Surely, he isn't talking to me. "Old sport?" Jay tries again, and the pressure returns, probing (I realize then that it's his hand). "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I only want to make sure that you're alright. Hesitantly, I push my hand against one of the fleshy walls. I'm not certain what he wants from me, but he hasn't killed me yet. It would probably be in my best interests to let him know I'm alive. "Oh! There you are!" His voice brightens, though it remains soft enough that it doesn't hurt my ears. "Are you alright?" It takes a moment to find my voice. "I... I think so..." Jay's acknowledgement comes in the form of a gentle pet against my side. "I'm ever so sorry for scaring you like that, old sport. If I'd had the chance, I would've told you that you'd be safe." "Safe?" I murmur, in spite of the fact that it's long since been clear that I won't be harmed. All the same, it's difficult to believe that was intentional. "Of course, dear boy, perfectly safe. Tom had bragged about catching a few humans, so I popped down to help while he was distracted." Jay's voice goes quieter, solemn. "...Sorry I couldn't have gotten there earlier." I whine softly, mourning the loss of people I never really knew. Distant they might have been, none of them deserved to die, and much less is such an awful, painful way. "I can't let you out quite yet," Jay continues, "but I promise I will as soon as I'm home. It's not safe for you to be outside right now, not with hungry giants with intentions far less pure than mine." "What are your intentions?" I ask before I can stop myself. I still don't know why Jay seems intent on keeping me safe. Am I a pet? A snack of sorts? He went through an awful lot of trouble for me, and it makes no sense. "To give you a home, old sport," answers Jay without missing a beat. "You're just as much a sentient creature as I am, and you deserve more than to be murdered in cold blood." "Oh." Jay chuffs sadly. "I bet you expected to be a pet, didn't you? ...It's not an unfair assumption, I suppose, given your experiences. But I said I'd keep you safe, and part of that is making sure you're healthy, mentally as well as physically. Perhaps it's just me, but the idea of being owned does little to calm my mind, even if by someone benevolent." I bite my lip, hesitant. "...Really?" "I promise." Something in my chest does a little flip. The prospect of somewhere safe to stay, where I don't have to constantly watch for hungry giants or have to struggle to find food and water is so tempting.... and if Jay had meant ill, I wouldn't be alive right now. But still.... "Will I be able to leave?" I ask. "Of course. Like I said, you aren't a pet. And you don't have to stay now if you don't want to. I only ask that you take some time to recover before you leave, for your own safety." I stare into the darkness. Such open, unadulterated generosity is strange to me. Other borrowers were constantly competing; there was no such thing as sharing, there. To have it from a giant is even more unnerving. Yet here I sit, nestled whole, safe, and alive in his stomach. I should be long dead, but Jay has been nothing short of hospitable. If it's a ruse, it's one I can't see through or bring myself to mistrust. "I'll stay with you, if you don't mind." Jay gives my side a stroke. "You won't regret it, old sport. I promise."

[autumnsart22]

A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 2/2

Part 2 of the fanfic my friend wrote! 

Warning: SMUT 🔥

Dabi strode off down the hall and you started to work on putting the rest of the groceries away, and cleaning some dishes in the sink. Shigaraki stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen. He looked around before looking at you, raising the empty beer bottle. You opened the drawer that held the trash and recycling and he threw it in with a loud clunk. He stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a little while before you finally asked,

“Can I help you?” 

“You’re standing in front of the fridge.” he states plainly.  You roll your eyes and move out of the way as he grabs another beer. He makes his way back to the table and sits down.

 You both pass the time in silence as he sips on his beer and you finish cleaning the kitchen. At some point Dabi comes out of the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel wearing nothing but your brother's old pair of black joggers that look slightly too big but the strings in the front were tied tight preventing them from falling any lower. Dear god what have you done to deserve this? He switched with Shigaraki who took his turn in the bathroom while you scoured the apartment for extra blankets and pillows and threw them on the couch. When Shigaraki was done in the shower he came out in a long sleeve white shirt and your ex-boyfriend's old pair of grey sweatpants. He joined Dabi who had heated up one of the soba cups from the store. 

“Okay I’m gonna go shower, you can just...yea” you spoke out loud trailing off as neither of them paid you any attention, and you left to go to the bathroom. You peeled off your work clothes, just some black jeans and a black blouse, throwing them into the same pile of clothes as Dabi and Shigaraki’s. You took your time washing your hair and and shaving your legs feeling like you deserved to pamper yourself a little given your night. You weren’t that tired given that you basically turned nocturnal since working at the bar. When you felt fresh and clean you dried off and wrapped yourself up in a towel to head to your room. Once you changed into some sweats and a tank top you made your way back out to the living room to find Dabi, now wearing a black t-shirt, and Shigaraki on the couch both nursing another beer while talking in hushed tones which again halted the moment they saw you. They both looked at you. 

“What?” You said confused on why they were both staring at you. 

“I have more questions,” Shigaraki stated, finally averting his gaze away from you, although it seemed reluctant. 

“Okay...shoot” you said walking into the kitchen for a glass of water then plopping onto the middle section of the couch in between them. If there was one piece of furniture you splurged on it was this couch. It was a huge ‘U’ shape and could fit up to 10 people if they squished side by side. Shigaraki and Dabi were both sprawled on the two sides of the couch with you sitting in the bottom of the U. 

“What sort of art or shit do people create about us?” 

You almost choke on your water. That was not the sort of question you were expecting. 

“Why?” you said suspiciously.

“You mentioned it earlier and I’m curious,” Shigaraki said, making large hand gestures swinging his beer bottle around. He must be getting kinda tipsy. 

“Fine but if I’m answering these questions. I’m gonna need a stronger drink” 

“All out here princess” Shigaraki says, taking the last gulp of his beer and waving it towards you. 

“Same here.” Dabi says holding his beer bottle up, as though expecting you to take it. You stand up and grab both bottles and chuck them into the recycling, then grabbing a bottle of rum from the back of your cabinet. You make your way back to the couch and take a large swig shuddering as it goes down. Shigaraki motions for the bottle and you hand it over passing it to Dabi afterwards. 

“Okay so back to my question” 

“Well people write and draw all kinds of shit. Everything from just realistic art or funny art to overtly sexual” Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this. 

“What you don’t believe me?” You ask laughing slightly cause if only they knew. 

“People think of crusty in that way?” Dabi laughs. 

“Hey like you’re any better staples. Y/N who do people like more?” Shigaraki shoots. 

“That’s gotta be Dabi. He’s pretty well known as being attractive” 

“Fuck you” Shigaraki pouts and Dabi smirks to himself. 

“Hey it’s not my fault, and trust me there’s still a ton of shit about you. And some of both of you” You said this last part quickly while taking another large swallow of rum. You couldn’t help yourself. 

“What do you mean the both of us?” Dabi and Shigaraki looked at you hesitantly.

“Well people like to put you two together. It’s called shipping, or they just pair you together as like a duo in fanfiction” 

Both of their reactions looked like they were about to gag and murder the other at just the thought of what people had had them do to eachother. 

“Okay that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life” Dabi says reaching for the bottle which you hand over willingly. 

“Moving on from that,” Shigaraki says, shaking his head as though to physically erase his mind. “So Y/N you’re obviously a fan. Who are your favorites?”  

“I don’t know. I have a lot of people I like and don’t like. It depends.” At this point your brain was becoming warm and fuzzy but you didn’t want to let anything slip out that could be potentially embarrassing or would make the two men turn against you. 

“Bullshit. Spill” 

“I told you it depends” 

“On what?”  he said this with a sneer. 

“I don’t know” You said exasperatedly.  “my mood, who’s been most present in the media. It just depends on what I’m looking for.”

“What you’re looking for?” Dabi repeated confusedly. 

“Next question” You state simply. 

The two villains raise their eyebrows at you, curious at your evasion of the question, but your lips stay shut. 

“Fine we’ll come back to that one Princess.” Shigaraki complies.“What do we look like in the show? I mean do we look different in real life?” 

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get you guys back?” you ask. 

“Not much we can do about it. I’m sure the rest of the league and Kurogiri are tracking down those thugs right now, so answer my question” 

“I don’t know. I guess you look kinda different, but I can still recognize you. I can show you if you want?” Shigaraki looks at you with affirmation. You get up to get your computer which you hook up to the tv screen in front of the couch. Dabi and Shigaraki turn so they can see the television, both laying down on their backs. You open your laptop (sorry I am basing it off my computer) and type in your password. 

“Is that Shoto?” Dabi says disgustedly. There was in fact a fanart picture of Todoroki amongst the collage that was your background screen. 

“Oh yeah. He would be in the it depends list” you say timidly quickly opening up the browser to cover up the background. 

“Why the fuck did he look like some 20 year old model?” 

“I told you, it’s fanart. People draw characters the way they see them or want to see them. Shoto is also really popular amongst fans if not the most I would say” 

Dabi makes a noise of revulsion. You turn back to start typing in Shigaraki’s name into the browser and instantly images pop up as well as the fandom wiki and regular wiki articles. You click on images and start to scroll through. 

“This is weird” Shigaraki says slightly in awe but disturbed at seeing this world's visions of his life. “Here give me that” he says gesturing towards your computer. You hand it over reluctantly. 

“Seriously?!” he says grabbing the laptop. 

“What?” you say hesitantly. Did you forget to close out of something?

He lifts the computer for Dabi to also see the two stickers on the sides of your trackpad. 

“The anger explosion boy and pro eraserhead?” Dabi said, judgement was obvious in his tone. 

“What?” you said defensively. 

“Nothing I just thought you’d be a villain girl and all” 

WTF, you think. What was that supposed to mean?

“Why do you think that? And who says I’m not?” 

Dabi raised an eyebrow in interest but didn't answer your taunts, instead turning back to the screen. Shigaraki has been scrolling through and tapping on pictures of himself making little noises and reactions. 

“This is fucking weird” He states again, the screen was stopped on a very sultry piece of fanart of Shigaraki. 

“Take that down you freak. No one needs to see your crusty dusty body like that. Hand it over.” Dabi tells Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki passes the computer over and Dabi searches his own name seeing all the pictures of him, although significantly more fanart pops up for him. He scrolls for a little bit but becomes weirded out or downright just bored at the photos of him. He then goes back to the wikipedia page and starts to read. While the two men continue to look at the screen and read information about their show, you stand up and head to the kitchen feeling peckish. You wander through the kitchen opening and closing all the cabinets waiting for something to catch your eye. You open the fridge and close it moving onto the freezer. Your eyes scan the contents when you spot the pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. You take it out and grab a spoon making your way back to the couch. When you get to the couch both Shigaraki and Dabi are staring at you again with intensity and amusement. 

“What?” you say, plopping back into your spot, struggling to tear open the plastic and resorting to using your teeth. With both of them still staring at you as though waiting for something, you look at the screen and see that your messages are open. You take a second to read the new text from your friend. 

‘Dude have you read this Shiggy Dabs fanfic? It made me 🤤🥵’

‘This ones similar to the last one you sent me, so be prepared⛓️😂’ 

Your heart sank as you saw the familiar logo of Ao3 underneath those texts. 

“What were you saying about being a villain girl?” Dabi said, smirking. 

“I––” You had no idea what to say. 

“Aww is the Princess embarrassed” Shigaraki says teasingly. 

You try to get up to leave but a hand roughly pulls you back down and you hide behind your hands refusing to look at the two villains. This was so embarrassing. What were you going to do? Now they knew that you liked them. That you were like the other people in this world that they had been disgusted by all night. They weren’t likely to just let this go. If only you could get to your room and lock the door maybe they would just leave. 

“Come on don’t be shy. Are we on your depends list?” 

They take your silence and continued evasion as an affirmation. 

“Hmm…” You hear Dabi hum lowly. “What exactly are we dependent on? What are you looking for when you search for us?” Dabi asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Come on tell us” Shigaraki coos. You shake your head. You could feel both of the boys drawing closer to you like school bullies cornering you in the bathroom,  but you didn’t dare look up at them, too embarrassed. That’s when you heard typing. Your head whips up to see Dabi replying to your friend. 

‘What exactly do you mean by similar?’

By the time you read what he wrote they were already responding. 

‘You know 😂  the usual non-con threesome with you and dabs and shigs. Kidnapping, ropes, degradation, similar to all the other fanfics 😋 tho in this one you cum four times and each a dif way😳 ’

If your stomach dropped even more. It would have touched the ground. 

“So not only are you a villain’s girl but you’re a kinky little slut too?” Dabi says chuckling. He was practically next to you staring at your frozen figure as you looked at the screen. 

“I should have known when you walked out here with these cute little things poking out” He reached over and pinched your nipple tugging on the metal barbell through it. You squealed instinctually pulling away but he caught the top of your tank top effectively pulling it down revealing your breasts, each decorated with a metal piercing. 

You motion to cover them, but your hands are once again forced behind your back, however this time Shigaraki had the pleasure of restraining you. 

“Let go of me!” you yelped at the humiliating assault. 

“I thought you liked this?” Dabi said in mock sympathy. “Just how many times have you gotten off to us?” 

You were squirming trying to remove yourself from Shigaraki’s grip. 

“Answer the question” Dabi said, pinching your nipple again. You yelped in pain but you could feel the slick starting to build between your legs. 

“A lot okay. Now let go!” 

Dabi and Shigaraki complied surprisingly. You regained your breath and pulled your tank top back up. The next few minutes passed in silence as Shigaraki took another swig of rum and Dabi continued to scroll through the different My Hero wikipedia pages. You got up still in shock taking your forgotten ice cream back to the freezer. You had lost your appetite. 

What were you supposed to do now? You were still slightly scared of them after what just happened but you couldn’t ignore the arousal that had been sparked deep within you. You had dreamt of this many times. This wasn’t much different than the different fanfiction you had read, and honestly this would be on the tamer end, but that was just fiction. But were you really going to pass up this chance? How could you? Yet why’d they stop? You were surprised and honestly kinda disappointed they had now that you were standing in the kitchen. And with that you had made up your mind. You are not going to pass up this chance you could never forgive yourself. 

You made your way back over to the couch but didn’t sit down. You stood in front of them silent staring at your feet, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. 

“What?” Dabi said as though nothing had happened. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked timidly. 

“Hmm? Because you said so.” Dabi said as though this was an obvious answer to a stupid question. 

You looked at him surprised.

“Don’t believe me?” He said with a small chuckle. 

When you didn’t seem to get any less anxious he continued with a sigh.

“Look Princess, I may be a bastard and sadistic villain but I don’t go wishing pain on everyone, especially ones with cute tits. Of course if they’re into that then I’m down” He said this so casually it seemed almost wrong, all while he continued to watch your computer screen. You assumed it was in part due to the alcohol, but still. 

“you’re blocking the screen,” Shigaraki said annoyed. 

“Was that all princess?” Dabi said mockingly

 “Well….” 

“What?” Shigaraki spat. 

“Hurry up,” Dabi said flatly. 

“What if I wanted to continue?” You said finally looking up at them. They both looked at you intently, then gave each other a look and were smiling when their eyes fell back to you. 

“Our little Princess wants to live out her dirty villainous fantasies...huh?”

You nod. Wait did they just say our?

“Come on tell us what you’ve dreamt about?” Dabi says beckoning you over to him with one finger.

Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you down onto his lap so you're facing him. You look at him hesitantly biting your lip.

“You’re the expert of these little situations, Princess” he says holding his hands up for you to guide them. You take his hands slowly, unsure of your actions and guide them back to your breasts. He gives you a smirk and gives you a good squeeze, causing a small moan to escape your throat. You instinctually grind down into his lap feeling his member start to harden beneath you. You lean your head back as Dabi pulls your tank top over your head. You look over at Shigaraki who’s staring at you starting to palm himself through the sweats. 

“Him too princess?” Dabi asks you, giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan all the while still staring at Shigaraki “Mmmhmmm” 

This was enough for Shigaraki to slide down the couch to where the two of you were. 

“Tell him where you want him, otherwise he won’t know what to do, I can’t imagine he’s done this before” Dabi encourages.

“Oh shut up” Shigaraki hisses, but he focuses back on you when you grab his hand and bring it to your neck. He insticutally keeps one finger raised, but you push that finger down with the rest deep into the side of your neck limiting the oxygen flowing to your brain, enough to give you that high. Flooded with pleasure you grind down again into Dabi feeling your underwear starting to become uncomfortably wet. 

Looking into Shigaraki’s crimson eyes, you could feel them boring into you just as hungry as you felt. He leans in close, lips barely ghosting over your own. You could feel both of your breaths mixing in the millimeters between you two when Dabi gives a harsh tug to both your nipples causing you to gasp. Shigaraki seized this opportunity to violently smash your lips together. Your hand reaches into his hair, gripping for support as the initial ferver and clash of teeth dies down into long passionate tangling of tongues as you explore each other's mouth. His rough lips scratching into your’s was a sensation you’ve imagined many times but none of it lived up to reality. He nipped lightly on your bottom lip making you lean into him more. 

Dabi’s hands continued their exploration of your torso, moving down your sides to your hips and around to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded them with his strong fingers. Shigaraki squeezed your neck again sending another rush of euphoria to your head making you moan into his mouth before he pulled away to attack your neck and take over teasing your breasts. You look back at Dabi with hunger in your eyes.

“What now princess? What do you want?” He says with a devilish grin. 

You grind down into his cock again which is now hard as ever. 

“Uh-uh. Use your words.” he says giving your ass a squeeze. 

Shigaraki rolls your nipples in between his harsh fingers sending waves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, causing you to roll your head again and let out a short moan. When you look back at Dabi, you speak in a low breathy tone, almost a whisper. 

“Abuse me” 

With those few words, Dabi smirks and slips his hands underneath the waistband of your sweats. “As you wish” 

Shigaraki continues his attack to your neck sucking and biting, leaving red and darkened patches curving down your shoulder and back. Dabi continued his groping, and you could feel the rough staples scratching at your flesh and his nails digging in harsher than before. His hands slide down the curve of your ass tugging your soiled underwear to the side. 

“Hmmm you’re so wet.” Dabi said, ghosting his fingers over your dripping entrance.

“You little whore. Getting so wet for a couple of villains” You shiver at the sensitive touch and degrading words. Gripping to Shigaraki’s shirt and grinding down trying to gain friction, you notice Shigaraki palming himself again. You replace his hand with your own, wrapping your fingers around his clothed cock, squeezing lightly. Shigaraki groaned deeply in your ear, sending vibrations straight to your core while Dabi’s fingers dip slightly into your needy hole but only enough to tease more juices and whimpers out of you. You try to push down onto them only for him to retreat. 

“Please...stop teasing” you whine.

“So needy Princess huh? You want my fingers in that little cunt of yours?” 

“Yes. Dabi. Please” you didn't care at this point how pathetic you sounded. The pressure in your core was building and you needed to be pushed over the edge. 

“Go on...make yourself cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it,” Dabi said sneering at how desperate you looked. He finally allowed two fingers to sink into you as you lowered your hips again. You were always amazed at how much deeper fingers other than your own could reach, and Dabi’s in particular could reach places you could never dream of finding on your own. 

The effect was immediate. You started to roll your hips, bouncing slightly on Dabi’s fingers. You’re grip on Shigarak’s member stalls as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. Shigaraki, displeased by this fact, guides you inside his sweats, pumping himself with your hand. You could feel the precum leaking from his slit as your fingers smear it up and down his shaft. Shigaraki continued his abuse of your flesh, moving down biting and sucking till his teeth latched onto your sensitive nipple. You whine as Dabi’s other hand had found your clit. He twirled it between his fingers letting his nail drag over it. This added stimulation drove you closer sending shivers up your spine. 

“Mm close” you whimper as your movements on Dabi’s fingers become sloppy. 

“Come on princess. Make yourself cum, make a pretty little mess all over my fingers” 

Dabi presses into your clit and you grind down hard again. Dabi wickedly curls his fingers pressing into that soft spot inside you releasing the knot of pressure that had been building in your core.Your legs shake and you clamp down hard onto his fingers which are still moving in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm. 

You weakly fall forward onto Dabi’s chest as Shigaraki releases your hand from his dick. You can feel Dabi’s fingers pull out of you and when you open your eyes you see him playing with your sticky release coating his fingers. You watch as Dabi brings his fingers to his mouth, smearing some on his lip and licking it before taking them into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him. 

“Princess you’re delicious” He says smiling down at you making you blush at the crude compliment. 

“My turn to taste'' Shigaraki said, pulling you off Dabi’s lap. He positioned you on your back, your head resting on Dabi’s thigh. As Shigaraki did away with your sweats and underwear, you pulled Dabi’s mismatched lips to yours. The feeling was heavenly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. You tugged needily at Dabi’s shirt and he pulled it off only breaking the kiss for a brief moment. 

You savored the wet and slow pace opposite to Shigaraki’s fast and rough, both pleasure in their own ways. You’re breath hitched and you moaned deeply when you felt Shigaraki’s wet tongue lick the length of your core, swiping up the sticky left overs from your previous release. 

You look down at Shigaraki. He had positioned himself between your thighs, knees slumped over his shoulders. He was staring up at you licking his lips before attaching himself to your clit sucking at it harshly. You could feel that ball of pressure tighten again in your stomach and you let your head fall back to Dabi’s thigh, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of the hot wet mouth working at your sex. You’re hand threaded its way into Shigaraki’s silky blue hair, tugging lightly, only making him suck harder. 

You felt Dabi’s hand on your cheek and you opened your eyes looking up into his sapphire eyes before he turned your head. You were met with Dabi’s unclothed cock. Your eyes followed the Jacobs ladder of staples up his shaft to the head where you could see a bead of precum sitting at the slit. You smile thinking how in the hell fanfic got this detail right. 

“What’re you smiling at? Impressed?”

“Hmm...No piercing, huh? Guess they got that part wrong” 

“You people are sick” he says chuckling before directing his dick into your mouth. 

You take it gladly bobbing your head down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks before sliding back up, letting your tongue catch on each of the staples. Dabi let out a low groan, putting his hand in your hair to keep it away from your face. 

You continue to work your mouth on Dabi’s cock while Shigaraki continues to swipe his tongue through your sensitive folds. You moan around Dabi’s length when Shigaraki slips a finger inside, causing you to buck your hips, pushing his tongue deeper into you. 

The vibrations from your tight throat had Dabi pushing your head down taking his entire length. You gagged around his cock, choking for air but that only drove you further into your pleasure. Shigaraki added another finger and started pistoning into you violently while sucking at your clit once again. You moaned, tugging at Shigaraki’s hair, signaling you were close. You could tell Dabi was close too as he took control and started face fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. 

Shigaraki added a third finger stretching you wider and driving you over the edge for the second time as you gasped around Dabi’s cock, legs squeezing around Shigaraki. Your orgasm drove Dabi to the edge as he thrust into you again and kept your head down as your throat tightened around his length. Thick ropes of cum shot from the tip and slid down the back of your throat. You took it all swallowing until you couldn’t breathe anymore pushing Dabi away. You’re head lolled on Dabi’s lap as you recovered from your high. 

Dabi was leaning back breathing deeply with his eyes closed. Your brain was still foggy but it wasn’t long until you felt something back against your sex. Looking down you see Shigaraki lining himself up with your entrance, coating his cock in your juices. Your eyes widen at seeing his length out in the open. It was not as decorated as Dabi’s but it held the same presence, being about an inch longer although not as thick as Dabi’s. Shigaraki looks up at you when he lines himself up, the tip merely resting against you, and sees your nervous expression. 

“Huh didn’t think I was getting you this wet for nothing. I ain’t wasting a drop of this pussy” 

He stared into your eyes as he steadily pushed into you. The stretch was almost unbearable. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make it through the burning stretch. 

“Shit you’re tight. Feels like my dick is in a vice... fuuuuuck… relax” Shigaraki hissed. 

You could barely register his voice let alone his request. You could barely breath focusing only on the pain as Shigaraki continued to push against your walls. 

“Hey patchwork stop sleeping and get her to breathe” 

Dabi shifts underneath you and you feel his hands run down your sides outlining your torso. Even though he didn’t have his quirk, his hands were hot and soothing as they rubbed against your skin. 

“Come on Princess.” You open your eyes slightly to see Dabi looking down at you patronizingly. 

“You’ve been doing so well,” He said brushing your jaw with the back of his hand. “And you wanna feel good right?” 

You nod meekly. 

Dabi leans down so his lips are hovering centimeters over yours. The smell of alcohol on his breath tantalizing and his minty scent making your head spin. 

“Breathe Princess. Just focus on me” He whispers before putting his lips on yours. You melt into the kiss doing exactly what Dabi says, exhaling through your nose and focusing on the way his cold staples scratch against your skin while his soft tongue dances with your own.  

When you break the kiss for air it’s only because Shigaraki has managed to bury himself to the hilt. You can feel him pressing against your cervix deep inside you. You look  at him again and find him head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in the feeling of you pulsing around him. Even though you know it’s not out of consideration but pure self indulgence, you're glad that he hasn’t started moving yet as you adjust to his length. Eventually it seems the lust of needing to rearrange your insides trumped being his own personal cockwarmer. His eyes fell on you again as you pulled out till only the tip was inside before bottoming out once again. Each time slowly pulling out only to thrust back in at full force.

You were still adjusting to his length, but soon the burning sensation of being stretched and pounded turned into addicting pleasure. You resumed your kiss with Dabi whose hands had found their way to your breast as Shigaraki increased his pace. Soon you were being knocked senseless by Shigaraki’s ruthless pace. He always has been fast on screen, so why did you think he’d be any different here. Moans and gasps escaped your mouth as the tip of Shigaraki’s cock hit your cervix. Once again the pressure began to build in your core. You began to whimper as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuckkk I’m close. It’s like you're pulling me deeper. So fucking good” Shigaraki panted out falling to his hands on either side of your hips for support. You whimper again and claw at the couch cushions as you could feel yourself just on the brink when Dabi’s hand slides down your stomach and begins rubbing at your clit. You cry out and clamp down hard on Shigaraki legs shaking and eyes rolling back as Dabi’s ministrations send you through your third orgasm of the night.

You feel Shigaraki thrust once more hard and then hot thick jets of white paint your walls. You shudder at the feeling of being pumped full, your sex still milking him of everylast drop. Shigaraki finally pulls out of you and lays back on the couch catching his breath savoring the last waves of his high falling down. 

You too were recuperating and limp, unable to move. Your mind was hazy from the alcohol and the relentless stimulation.  You were so tired that you didn’t even care about cleaning up but rather drifting off to sleep right there. However you were jostled from these thoughts as Dabi had rolled you off his lap and onto your stomach. You could hardly keep up with his movements as he stood and walked around you. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of hands lifting your hips that you looked back to see Dabi fisting is dick that looked painfully hard. You couldn’t fathom another round right now but you were still so weak from your last high that you didn’t have time to prepare before Dabi thrusted into your already abused hole. 

He sighed once he was buried inside you. He leaned down so his chest was hovering above your back the heat making your skin prickle. He leaned down till his breath could be felt on the back of your neck. 

“Mhmm… ’m so close already and you’re gonna let me pump you full, aren’t you princess”

You couldn’t respond because your overly sensitive body was already reacting to Dabi's hard cock pressing into you, stretching you wider around his girth. Even though your mind was fading in and out, you involuntarily pressed your hips back to make him go deeper, seeking out the friction your body needed to overdose on. 

Dabi was the exact opposite of Shigaraki. He took his time, thrusting in and out, making sure you felt every staple and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls savoring the way they pulled him in. Overstimulation caused tears to form in the corners of your eyes only soft whimpers escaping your mouth. Dabi continued slow and deliberate, letting out low breathy grunts with every thrust. On the edge once more, never fully recovering from before, you were longing to be undone one last time.

“Please Dabi” you mewl.

Dabi snickered in your ear before snaking his hand under you and pressing his fingers to your clit which was all the stimulation you needed to moan out and squeeze around Dabi who came at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around his pulsing length. You felt his seed fill you up and mix with Shigaraki’s inside you. Dabi dropped down next to you, rolling you onto your side so you were effectively spooning with his cock still inside you. You could hear movement apart from you and Dabi, and in opening your eyes you saw Shigaraki standing pulling up the sweats that were bunched at his thighs. He noticed you staring at him. 

“Tch. I don’t cuddle Princess and I gotta piss” His tone was crude but laced with content from having a good fuck. “Don’t let a single drop out Dabi” Shigaraki stated before walking down the hall. 

Dabi didn’t respond but seemed to have no intent on moving as you felt his member begin to soften inside you. You couldn’t be more concerned about the implications behind Shigaraki’s comment or the fact that you still had a dick inside you. You were just tired and groggy from the night's events and thankful that you were finally able to be comfortable and close your eyes. You didn’t think Dabi was really a cuddle after sex with a stranger kinda guy but you weren’t complaining. He was warm and made you feel safe despite knowing he would most likely kill you in any other context. You let your eyes close again, head falling onto Dabi’s arm, giving into the waves of exhaustion coming over you. 

When Shigaraki came back from the bathroom he found you and Dabi still in the exact same position he left you in. Dabi opened his eyes when he heard Shigaraki come back into the room. 

“Is she out?” Shigaraki asked. 

“Think so,” Dabi said, finally pulling out of you and tugging the joggers back up to his hips. He slides out from behind you, but you don’t even realize, body only curling inwards at the loss of heat. Dabi stands and looks down at you with Shigaraki. You look so worn out and peaceful. Your body exposed for them, hickeys and bruises forming where Shigaraki ravaged your neck. Your ass is still red from the pounding, and welts forming where Dabi’s strong fingers dug into you. However the best part was probably the shine of slick spread on the inside of your thighs as a stream white cum dribbled from your used hole. 

Shigaraki notices this and sits down by your feet.

“What’re you doing?” 

“I told you I don’t want any of it out. Got a problem with that?” 

“Nope.” Dabi said rolling his eyes and walking away. “I’ve learned to not try and figure out your sick mind”  

Shigaraki looked back down at you. 

“Good. I have plans for her.” Dabi rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shigaraki ran a hand up your thigh and you flexed at his touch, still unconscious. Shigaraki ran his fingers down the length of your core smearing the juices there before scooping up the stream of cum still leaking out of you and pushing it back inside you. His two fingers easily slipped into your stretched whole, but that didn’t stop a small whine from slipping from your throat. Shigaraki moved his fingers lazily in and out of you pushing the cum deeper. His eyes shot to your face when your hips bucked instinctively against him, your face was scrunched and staggered breaths and sniffs escaping your slightly parted lips, but you were still out, lost in whatever continued fantasy your fatigued brain was conjuring. 

Shigaraki pushed into you a few more times selfishly pressing into the soft spot inside you that had you clamp down onto his fingers one last time. You gasped and curled further into a ball. When Shigaraki pulled his fingers out you hummed, face still scrunched, but he got up and left to the kitchen to wash off his hands. 

When Dabi came back he met Shigaraki in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter. 

“What do we do now?” Dabi asked casually.

“Well I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m fucking exhausted” 

“Do you really think the rest of the league will be able to figure this out?” 

“Kurogiri is smart enough, even if the rest of the league is useless with this sort of thing. However I am curious what this sick twisted universe has to offer us” 

“Whatever you say” Dabi says walking back to the couch, and lifting you bridal style. You lean into his warmth as he carries you to your bedroom plopping you down on your bed and closing the door. 

When you open your eyes the next morning, you feel your head throbbing against your skull. The bright light streaming in through your window was enough to make you want to stab the sun till it was nothing more than an ember. You closed your eyes again trying to remember the dream you were having but as you searched your brain, pieces of your dream seemed to turn into memories. You shot your eyes open and sat up. It was just a dream right? Realizing you were naked and that your skin felt sticky and dirty was enough to make your head pound harder than before. Wasn’t the fact you were hungover proof enough that last night events had taken place? No, there was still a chance you had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but you had to be sure. You sprang out of bed and pulled on some loose shorts and a shirt, impatiently throwing open the door and speeding down the hall to where the proof you needed would be.

The living room was lit by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The golden rays illuminated messy blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, an empty rum bottle, a pair of your sweats and tank top buried on the floor, but no one was there. You felt nauseous trying to piece everything together along with the aftermath of the alcohol. You rush to the sink in the kitchen and puke up the contents of your stomach. You grip the counter and close your eyes until you felt more confident in your body's ability to keep everything inside. You slowly open your eyes and look around, mind going back to what happened last night. However you get sidetracked by a bright blue sticky note sticking up from your countertop. Walking over to it you read. 

“Kurogiri is a smart man. We’ll be back Princess.  PS I want the blood out of my pants.” 

[written-prose-things]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Laura Hale, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Miscommunication, lil bit of angst Summary:

Laura Hale has been the alpha of a teenaged pack who's seen everything from draculas to faeries. How is she going to deal with Stiles getting her brother's name as his soul mark? Especially when said brother already has someone else's name.

(the fic’s under the cut as well)

Even if the pack’s a bit more grown-up now, they still act like the kids they were when she first met them. So as she’s sitting down on the couch with her noodle soup, to enjoy some reality tv, that one pack member or another is going to bust through the door and start clamouring for her attention. But she’s nothing if not headstrong.

The staple fight between the Kardashians is barely in its first act when Stiles rushes through the door, his sneakers squeaking and plaid shirt and jacket flapping around. He smells of anxiety and nervousness, exactly like he did the first day they met.

He whispers urgently, “Laura??!”.

She yells back from the den, “Here!!”

He walks towards her quickly, muttering, “Oh my god, be quiet!!”

When he finally turns the corner and enters the den, Laura puts her bowl aside and pats the seat next to her, “What’s wrong pup?”

He takes a deep breath, and she already expects a long-winded rant, “So, you know about soul marks, right? Obviously, you got yours, you’re still looking for the person with that name, so you know about this thing. Everyone gets it, right? But does everyone get that of the person that reciprocates? Not always. Sometimes people have different names.”

Laura frowns. Why’s he talking about soul marks suddenly? God knows it’s been a sour topic for him since his 17th birthday passed and he didn’t get-

“Oh my god!!! You got your mark??!! Stiles! You-” Stiles muffles her mouth quickly.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He whispers urgently, “Someone might hear!”    

Laura batted his hand away from her mouth, “No one else is here.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow, “Derek?”

Laura shrugs, “He said there was some work that needed to be done on the roof so he went to get supplies from the hardware store.”

Stiles smirks, “Wow, I always thought that nothing short of an apocalypse would make that homebody move from the mansion. But hey, in miracles we must believe.”

Laura smacks his thigh, “Shut up about Derek already, tell me about your mark, where is it?”

Stiles’ smirk becomes a little stilted as he replies, “I can’t really stop talking about Derek, he’s related to this whole mark thing that’s happened to me.”

Laura stutters, “You- Derek? You got Derek?”

Stiles’ smirk is now a full frown, “Yup.”

Laura knows she shouldn’t point it out, and that Stiles knows it already, “But he already has a-”

Stiles doesn’t let her complete, “Yup.”

Laura sighs. Everyone knows that Derek has a mark, he’s had one since they moved back to Beacon Hills, but he doesn’t like showing it or even talking about it, other than the one time he told her that he’d finally gotten his mark.

Laura sighs, “I’m so sorry, Stiles.”

He shrugs, “Yeah well, it is what it is. But that’s not why I came here.”

Laura barely stops her jaw from snapping open, one of the worst things on this planets happened to him and the boy wants to talk about something else. He’s either finally lost his mind or it’s a whack plan to set things straight.

“Oh? What did you want to talk about?”

Stiles shrugs, “I read this thing yesterday. when I got the mark, I couldn’t just wring my hands and cry about it right? So an older version of your uncle’s bestiary has mentions of a ritual that only werewolves can do to exchange marks.”

So whack plan it is. Laura interjects, “Stiles what the hell are you talking about? How can someone tempt fate like that? Also, why would I take my brother’s mark on my self? That’s so many levels of gross and weird.”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, I-”

The thing about the Hale mansion is that after years of use and the god awful fire, the house creaks and rattles with even the smallest wind. So Laura has trained herself to file little noises inside the house away. But she should know better by now. In giving Stiles her full attention, she didn’t keep an ear out for Derek.

And now her younger brother is standing at the door in front of them.

Stiles lets out a faint choking sound, “H-hey Derek, fancy seeing you here.”

Derek growls, “This is my house.”

Stiles laughs like he’s at a polite office party, “Just uh- How much of that did you here?”

Derek grits his jaw, “You don’t want my mark.”

Stiles bobbles his head, “Well, no- but. I- Look Derek, it’s been 3 years since my 20th birthday. I’ve made my peace with being alone and I don’t want to come in the way of you and whoever it is that you have. So it’s a spell that I’ve read. Any werewolf can do it and I then we can exchange names. So I was thinking that I could get the person with your soul mark to switch with me and the both of you can-”

Derek growls again, “No.”

Stiles stutter, “-get togethe- or no. right. Sure. Uh, What exactly, does that mean? No? Like I can’t give your name to your mark, or…?”

Derek sighs, “Give me my mark.”

“Huh?”, Laura knows better to get in the way of, what ever the hell this is, but Derek’s response is entirely unexpected.

 Stiles holds up a finger, “I’m sorry, but what now? You want your own name… as your mark? Isn’t that a bit vain?”

Derek growls and Stiles quickly amends, with his hands tucked inside the collar of his shirt, “Not that there’s anything wrong with being vain. Late-stage capitalism ya’ know, everyone’s on their own...”

Stiles’ voice peters out under Derek’s stern gaze.

Derek grumbles, “There’s nothing wrong with taking my name back. I’ll finally be able to do my own thing and you’ll be fine, the person with my name is some old polish dude. You’ll be rid of him sooner or later.”

Stiles nods jerkily, “Yeah, right. That- It makes sense.”

Laura gets up. She doesn’t want to do this at all. She trusts Stiles with her life and seeing Derek give that up, it breaks her heart. But it’s his life and his choice, she doesn’t want to come in his way.

“Right so what am I supposed to do?”

Stiles startles like he’d forgotten that she was even there, “You don’t need to be here for this lulu, we can manage on our own.”

She sighs and walks out of the den, she’s too tired to nag Stiles about the nickname.

oOo

Stiles holds his arm out to Derek, his sleeves fall back and Derek sees his name written in a neat freshly-dried inky script.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Stiles replies in a whisper and the gravity of the situation dawns on Derek, “Where do you have your mark?"

“On my leg.”

“Okay.” Stiles slides a chair towards him, “put your leg here and roll your pant up.”

Derek does as he’s told while the younger man busies himself with pulling out the photocopy of the tome his uncle had compiled.

“Now what?”

Stiles nods and looks up from his book, “It’s a little awkward, but we have to make our marks touch and-”

Stiles stops short of touching Derek’s leg with his forearm and Derek growls out, “What?”

He knows that the name is funny. He’s spent years on the internet looking for someone with that name and trying to understand the meaning of the name.

“I- That’s mine.”

Derek huffs, “Yes, that’s going to be yours when we switch. You seem to care much more about this then you let on.”

Derek can’t help but get irritated. Stiles wanted nothing more than to get rid of Derek’s name, he was willing to pawn it off to some stranger, but this god-awful key smash of a name is making his sappy?

Stiles looks up at him, “No, I- That’s me. I’m Mieczyslaw Stilinski.”

Derek huffs, “Oh.”

[buns-with-a-book]

Fortuna Food Festival

For Day Four of DMCWeek2020, the prompt chosen was food! And Fortuna is an island nation, recently opened to the world, with probably pristine beaches. It’s perfect for a nice food festival!

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: OC/Vergil Tags: @furyeclipse @nimnox @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate @queenmuzz @harlot-of-oblivion @astral-space-dragon

Summary: While visiting Fortuna, Cassandra and Vergil attend a local food festival celebrating Fortuna-Mainland fusion cuisine.

Today was, effectively, a date.

The warm summer sun shone brightly on an open square of Fortuna, stalls full of food and drink. It was Fortuna’s first ever food festival, a cultural import from the mainland. Not only was this food festival becoming a tourist draw for a newly revitalized Fortuna, it also showed off new mainland fashions. Stars were drawn to Fortuna’s warmth and came not only to show off the latest fashions to the Fortunan populace (and their own online following) but the traditional modesty (or what remained of it, after the Fortuna Incident) was thrown out the window with thousands of small cameras in people’s pockets, which meant more revealing sundresses were free game for people to wear.

“Vergil, you look lovely.” Cassandra gently soothed, brushing out the wrinkles in his white button-up shirt. Vergil frowned, glancing up and down at Cassandra in her green sundress, decorated in a floral pattern. The two were in an alleyway, a little shortcut from the street to the plaza where the festival was taking place. “And don’t complain about the lack of coat and Yamato. It’s a food festival, there’s no need to bring it, and it’s too hot for your coat.” She added, stepping back. She adjusted her sunhat.

“I would’ve been fine-”

“Until you leave it behind on some table and we spend the rest of the festival finding it.” She took his hands and gave them a squeeze. “Just...relax, ok? It’s just gonna be a nice date where we eat good food. I’m not gonna let you languish in Devil May Cry knowing nothing but pizza and sundaes.” She gave him a knowing smirk over the rim of her sunglasses.

“Did you...languish with my brother with nothing but pizza and sundaes?” Vergil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not! I made sure to eat whatever caught my attention. Burgers, pasta, and everything else in between.” She gently led Vergil out of the alleyway into the plaza, where the scent of warm cooked fish, vegetables, and toasted bread met them. She glanced at Vergil, the man glancing around, ever attentive for threats. It was an instinct that she knew could not be restrained by any such assurances from her.

Cassandra reached into her bag, decorated with imprints of limes (it was a gift from Dante and Cordelia and she was impressed at the fact that they made it together). She pulled out the brochure and opened it. “Hmm...how about something light? This fish-tomato bruschetta sounds easy to start off.”

“It looks messy-”

“Bruschetta is messy by nature. It’s just tomatoes on toasted bread usually.” Cassandra pointed out. “Are you afraid your bad luck with burgers is gonna ruin finger food?” She glanced back, seeing him glare at the brochure.

“Is this festival all food?” He asked, the glare in his eyes not reaching his voice.

“Yep. That’s the point of a food festival, to try different kinds of food. It’s even more so for the populace of Fortuna, since their food staples are fish and bread. Mitis Forest doesn’t really give much room for farmable land, for crops or for animals aside from chickens. These new ingredients from the mainland are gonna shake things up.” Cassandra explained as she led Vergil to the booth where the fish-tomato bruschetta was sold. “Kyrie told me all about it.”

“I see.” Vergil nodded. Cassandra quickly bought two plates of bruschetta and handed one to Vergil.

“Here you go!” Vergil stared at the plate handed to him before he took one of the pieces of bruschetta, taking a bite. “Well?”

“...it’s different. I like it.” Cassandra beamed at his words and took a bite herself.

“It is different. But it’s a good different!” She looked at the fish. “I think these are locally fished sardines. That’s the big food trend, apparently: locally sourced ingredients.” She took another bite of bruschetta. “Good thing Dante isn’t here. For one, today is all about us. For another, he’d be eating the pizza stand out of food.” She pointed to the aforementioned pizza stand. “Except the olives. Not sure what they’d do with the olives but” She shrugged. “I bet they’d have something planned.” She looked to Vergil, noticing he had finished the plate.

“Is something the matter?”

“Not really. I guess you really liked it.” She smiled, presenting the last piece of bruschetta on her plate to him. He took the piece and ate it.

‘So much for feeding it to him.’ Cassandra thought, taking his plate and throwing them in the trash. ‘I should’ve expected as much.’

“Cassandra?” Vergil asked. She perked up, noticing his gaze was on a booth across the plaza. “What is shakshuka? It sounds like a demon’s name.”

“Oh! I don’t know what that is either. Wanna try it?” She asked, taking his hand. He seemed to jolt, just a little, at the sudden grab before nodding. With that, she led the way.

---

“And then I had to throw Dante into a salt bath because his dumbass got cursed to be a dog! He was miserable for weeks but that was his fault for pissing off a witch.” Cassandra finished her story, earning an amused chuckle from Vergil. The two were relaxing on the beaches of Fortuna, sitting on a blanket Cassandra had the foresight of grabbing. Between them was a sliced up cinnamon walnut apple cake. Behind the cake was Cassandra’s phone, playing the local radio softly.

“Dante always had a habit of getting himself in trouble.” Vergil pointed out, a soft smile on his face. “But he was just as good of getting himself out of trouble.”

“Sounds like Dante. But that stops with Nero. Nero doesn’t have time to deal with Dante being evasive.” Cassandra pointed out, popping a bit of cake into her mouth. “So...did you enjoy the festival?”

“...there were more people than I would have liked but...yes.” Cassandra smiled at that.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself regardless.” She said, moving over to rest her head on his shoulder. Vergil was still for a few minutes before, slowly, he wrapped a hand around her side. She smiled, relaxing against him and enjoying the sound of the waves and the radio.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Gotham 4x05: A Liveblog

Phew... long, long day, super delayed liveblog, but here it is, in all its glory. And frankly, after last time, I am not hoping for much : |

TL;DR - So there was a footrub and- HEY LET’S TALK ABOUT SOLOMON GRUNDY!

You know I’m disappointed in Gotham when I have not been chomping at the bit to see the next episode. If they get ANYTHING right today, I'll be pleased

Buuuutch :c my baby, my angel :cccc

...there’s literally location called “Slaughter Swamp” there’s literally... *throws book on floor* *walks out*

And yeah, I'm sure dumping a mostly dead body in... this swamp is Very Safe and will not lead to Anything Weird Ever. After all, it’s not like the waters in this town have literally resurrected people...

HARVEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. HARVEYYYYY *sobs* Oh god and you look so good and your boyfriend has been AN ALL TIME LOW recently and... HARVEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY *cries into 50 pillows*

This season was supposed to be about you two getting married. And instead what do I get? The divorce. I fucking hate how this show writes Jim. HATE.

Is lil Bruce contemplating murder??? Daaaamn boy. Is this show finally actually going to become ABOUT Batman??? Am I actually going to start giving a fuck about Bruce? Jesus, how the turn tables.

Side note: David was younger here, they shot this episode earlier, not later

MMMM, all them good funeral feels for Bruce, MMMMMM. This is fine. I’m sure he’s... fine.

Jim what the fuck, fuck off. None of your shit now.

Oh my GOD Jim, you’re going to lecture ALFRED about PARENTING??? JIM. JIM. REMEMBER WHAT YOUR USELESS ASS WAS DOING FOR LITERALLY ALL OF LAST SEASON? IT WASN’T FUCKING HELPING BRUCE. FUCK YOU.

Why this show is choosing to make me hate Jim is beyond me. Holy fuck.

Bruce, I know you’re not Batman yet but... Batman is No Killing for a reason buddy. *pets* You gotta learn that lesson.

Babs hair this season continues to be... I don’t even know what her style is this season

HOLY FUCK WHY IS RA’S IN A HANNIBAL CAGE. HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD.

How Hannibal is this show going to get??? HOly SHIT.

Don’t tell me they gave Babs the fucking “soft paper, no clips, no staples, do not accept anything he hands you” rules (that BY THE BY we used on Frank too and that will NEVER stop being hysterical, although most of you are probably not in that fandom) too??/ HOLY FUCK WHAT THE SHIT

RA’S IS NOT A SERIAL KILLER, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU JUSTIFY THIS... WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD

I want to be paid a dollar every time Gotham borrows from Hannibal because... WOW. wow.

Jesus Fucking Christ What Even Just Happened

Oh thank GOD we’re back in Slaughter Swamp, I’m so sorry for what I said about you earlier, NEVER MIND, you are MUCH better than that, VERY welcoming, bless you Slaughter Swamp

...is that Oswald’s murder trailer? Welp, for the purposes of amusing myself, I’m just going to say that it is. Just come full circle on it. That trailer stays in the family.

Apparently none of you have seen Frankenstein or you would know not to wave fire at the recently returned from the dead : ||||

That... I guess that’s as good a way to get a name as any

*groaning about Sofia’s existence*

Is it an f or a ph? does anyone know? Meh

Mmmm... Oswald’s twitchy, he makes bad decisions when he’s twitchy. Of course, why Oswald should be twitchy now is a mystery. I can only hope the decision to abandon Ed isn’t sitting well with him. BUT that might make Too Much Sense because Fuck This Show

Hi Ed. I see your pill addiction is... still a thing. I’m not sure how i feel about the fact that you turn to drugs when you can’t handle shit.

...okay, I kinda love that Ed is now bad at everything in a new and entirely understandable way, as opposed to when he was bad at everything but we were SUPPOSED to think he was oh so smart (personally I think there are WAY better writing angles in that in regards to hubris and you know... actual fucking development but, WHATEVER writers, you do you). I have no idea where this will eventually lead, probably nowhere, because this show sucks and is determined not to make any progress of any kind but rather run us round and round in the same circles for all eternity, but this gets props for being entertaining if nothing else

“Butch, I have never had an issue with you” ...Ed. Edddddd. I’m. I’m just going to sit here silently.

Butch, I love you to death, you are everything, please drag Ed, both figuratively and literally, back to your cave and fix him. I love you so so much, please take care of him and then the two of you can be bros for life

Niiiiice, Alfred in his casual Night on the Town clothes, mmhmmmmmm

JIM SHUT YOUR FUCKING USELESS WHORE MOUTH YOU SELF-ABSORBED PRICK, YOU ARE NOTHING BUT DEAD WEIGHT TO EVERYONE HERE, DON’T YOU DARE PRESUME TO TELL ALFRED HOW TO PARENT YOU UNWANTED CODPIECE

NANANANANANANANA BATHOOK!

...you’re kidding me, I’m supposed to believe Bruce has memorized the changing of the guard at Blackgate? *siiiiiigh*

...yes, I also keep my ceremonial murder weapons stuffed down my shirt. It’s almost like you need a utility belt or something

I hope to god Sean flubbed that line and everyone just went with it

“Under crackers” is now the only way I am going to refer to my under garments and/or genitals

...OKAY SO GRUNDYGMA IS THE NEW NYGMOBBLEPOT WE ALL KNOW THAT RIGHT?

Holy shit, I thought y’all were just being crack but THIS IS SUDDENLY THE BEST THING ABOUT THIS SHOW I AM IN LOVE THIS IS PERFECT PLEASE GOD MAY THEY NOT RUIN IT IMMEDIATELY

Holy shit, ONE good scene, ONE good fucking scene in A MILLION years, oh... sweet jesus THANK YOU, I’ve waited SO LONG for literally ANYTHING to be good again and HERE IT IS

Uhhh... is Sofia gonna murder Oswald over lunch? Because if so: No.

Oh boy, back to overplot

...okay, I have no idea what to make of Ra’s al Ghul, if he’s lying or not, not a clue

Ed... Ed you REALLY need friends right now, would you please just TRY to human being for a second. Jesus. You’re stupid and you’re still SO BAD at EVERYTHING.

Awww, see, there you go! There you go sweetie, you can be friends!You can do it, good job not letting your only friend burn to death, that’s a good step forward!

Uhhhhhh oh, Oswald’s having mom feels. Oh boy.

Alfred, confirmed 300% more useful than Jim ever was

Poor Oswald... damn, without an Ed as a clutch for balance, Oswald’s spinning his wheels. This is 100% what I expected when the season started, but I”m a little upset at the pacing. This should have been obvious and building from day 1 and AGAIN, LAST episode should have had a VERY different emotional tenor. His limp is also atrocious right now, he’s very stressed and jumpy and there are obvious reasons why, but they haven’t PLAYED any of them, which is annoying.

...

...

. . .

The List Of Things I Could Say Right Now. I’m Just.

.

.

.

do you know who fucking else has seen Oswald’s fe-EDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

ALL OF THE ANGRY GIFS IN THE WORLD CANNOT EXPRESS MY RAGE

So uh... are you a mummified corpse in all reflective surfaces and you’ve just been avoiding mirrors, or does this trick only work in puddles?

...really milking that death there Alexander. Which is fair, this is a comic book show after all.

GREAT acting on David’s part tho, mad props

Yes, yes, cute jaw drop, very hammy, good job

Jim, I’m pretty sure this is the first time you two have spoken in like... 2 seasons. Just saying. you don’t know each other that well... or at all really.

Also, I‘m not positive killing someone who was immortal and who wanted to die is really murder either. Especially considering he was The Worst. Like... you shouldn’t feel bad, at all, that he’s dead, you’ve actively saved lives by killing him. Even if this is murder, I”m just saying... probably the best murder you could have done. Good job Bruce? Meh, I really don’t have any investment in this storyline, I'll be real.

Ed, why must you lie to your own and only friend? Why Ed? *siiiigh* Baby steps of friendship I guess, baby steps

...annnnnnnnnnnd there it is.

Knew it was too good to be true, couldn’t have ANYTHING nice this season could we. No, no of course not. Ooof course not.

May the all-consuming void swallow me up whole so I don’t have to deal with This.

[comicsbeat]

§ Nice Art: Francesco Francavilla gave us the Thing vs Thing team-up we’ve all dreamed of on Twitter.

§ Nice art supplemental! Takashi Miike has made a movie based on the manga JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure and it looks insane!

This is the guy who was somehow able to make us laugh at a scene depicting a hitman slicing off his own tongue in Ichi the Killer, after all. The JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure manga by Hirohiko Araki debuted in 1987 and chronicles the adventures of the Joestar family across several generations as they use their unusual powers to tackle a variety of supernatural threats. With around 100 million copies in print, it’s the bestelling horror manga of all time and also one of the bestselling manga series overall. Judging from the trailer, Miike’s adaptation will feature highly stylized visuals and colors, so we should be in for an incredible cinematic experience when Toho and Warner Bros. co-distribute the film in Japan on 4 August 2017. It stars Jun Kunimura, Nana Komatsu, Mackenyu, and Takayuki Yamada.

Bestselling horror manga? Whoa. Here’s the teaser trailer:

And the character posters! So manga!

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  § Alison Bechdel has drawn a few new Dykes to Watch Out For comic strips, and it might be about a certain orange toned president.

§ Tom Spurgeon interviewed Ron Wimberly about Prince of Cats and the rest:

It’s such a shit show, the human brain. We think the way we remember things, that’s how it truly happened. Photoshop has been great because we’re now even more aware how fake everything is. [laughter] It’s just perception. Now that it doesn’t require someone that’s great at gouging, or working on something with a knife, now that a teenager can put Hillary Clinton’s face on Snoop Dogg’s body, we know everything’s fake. Karen Green asked me something. She had read the book. When I’m thinking of names, I always give myself a game or a problem to solve to come up with answers. So the tape at the beginning, at first they were listening to the Stooges or something. Then I was like, “No that contextually doesn’t make any sense.” What would they be listening to? How is this tape a microcosm of the entire world? What if Milton, a contemporary of Shakespeare: he had written this poem about Shakespeare when he died. So Rammellzee and Milton, I mashed them together, and that’s what in the tape in the tape deck. But I totally forget about that! I had come up with a name pulled from one of the prior authors of a Romeo & Juliet. Karen, being the genius she is, is like, “Oh, that’s such a great thing you put in there. I can’t believe you did that.” And I was like, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” [laughter] I totally forgot I had done that!

§ Someone PLEASE MUZZLE FINN JONES. The Iron Fist star just keeps digging a deeper and deeper grave with every interview where he attempts to explain why Iron Fist reviews are so awful and people don’t like the whitewashing. First it was “it’s for the fans” then he blamed Trump. Here’s his take in Vulture below. A couple of things: Jones is British and they have a slightly different approach to racial issues than we do in the US. No excuse, but probably why he keeps blabbing. Second, he’s an actor. A young actor. And not everyone can be Cole Sprouse. So please, someone…teach him how to listen and acknowledge. It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.

There’s so much outrage in the internet these days, right? Why don’t people just — look, the issue is that people are judging before they’ve even seen the show. And that’s problematic. C’mon. Don’t get angry and start a mob when you don’t even — you haven’t even seen the show! You don’t even know what we’re doing with it. It’s unjust. It’s unfair. Whatever issues they have may be true of the comic books; it was written in the ’70s. It was a very different time to where we’re at now. Very, very different. I get it. There needs to be more diversity in film and television, in all fucking aspects of life. There needs to be more diversity, period. Unfortunately, this show was picked, for whatever reason. I don’t fully understand, really, but what I say is, Watch the show. Watch the show, then make your opinions.

  § Paste magazine has the picks for comics on sale tomorrow and it’s a good week!

§ Vanity Fair chatted with 96-year-old Al Jaffee who is still cartooning and still amazing.

§ Image is holding a Homecoming Dance at Rose City Comic Con again. Details below:

Back by popular demand, Image Comics is pleased to host a very special formal Fall Homecoming dance for the comics community during the Rose City Comic Con festivities. The dance will be held on Saturday, September 9th from 8:30 p.m. – 12:30 a.m. at The Evergreen. This event will be 21+ only. IDs will be checked at the door.

Tickets to the Image Comics Fall Homecoming Dance are on sale now.

Image Comics’ Fall Homecoming will be in the style and spirit of a traditional high school dance and all comics fans and industry members are encouraged to come mix, mingle, and dance the night away.

Image Comics Fall Homecoming ticket tiers: $20: Entry ticket $45: Add-on pack, including an Image t-shirt, variant cover comic, commemorative pint glass, and enamel pin $79: VIP pack—ticket to the party, add-on pack items, and access to special VIP area at the venue (limited quantity, only 100 VIP tickets available)

§ Britt Hayes reviewed Atomic Blonde, the new comic book movie and liked it:

In one of the most striking cinematic introductions in recent memory, we meet Theron’s Lorraine Broughton, covered in bruises and soaking in an ice bath. She sits on the edge of the tub and plunks ice cubes from her bath into a glass, filling it with Stoli and gulping it down without the slightest wince. If you’ve been waiting for a female 007, she’s here — and she might be even cooler than Bond with all his ridiculous gadgets.

§ But Valerie Complex of Nerd of Color saw a preview for Ghost in the Shell and it was Worse Than We Thought:

On February 28, I saw a 15-minute sneak peek of the Hollywood adaptation of Ghost in the Shell. From the announcement of the project, this has always been a bad idea. But the announcement of the cast and story has made things much worse. Most noticeably, Hollywood adaptations of Japanese anime have yet to be successful. Either their stories veer too far from the source material, the director isn’t a good fit or the casting makes no sense. You would think Hollywood would learn, yet here we are, on the precipice of another anime-adapted flop.

§ Good news for Valiant! The Russo Brothers (Civil War) have signed on to make a Quantum and Woody TV show .

The team behind “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” and “Captain America: Civil War” will develop “Quantum and Woody,” about the world’s worst super-duo, with Valiant Entertainment. Anthony and Joe Russo will be executive producers alongside Mike Larocca and Valiant’s Dinesh Shamdasani.

§ Another graphic novel is coming to the screen! Days of the Bagnold Summer was a hilarious and sad graphic novel about a 15 year old heavy metal music fan forced to spend the summer with him mum. Created by Joff Winterhart, it was shortlisted for the prestigious COsta Award in the UK, and now it’s going to be a movie, directed by Simon Bird, a well known Brit comic known for The Inbetweeners. Some good comic fodder there.

§ Vox runs down why people are so upset about Marvel, Magneto, and Nazis, explained:

For people who aren’t comic book readers or casual fans, the vocal fight over the origins of fictional characters can seem confusing, or even trivial, considering real life white supremacists have become fixtures in the current national political conversation, and bad fiction happens all the time. But the fight goes beyond the comic book history of Captain America and Magneto and deeper into the significance of art’s connection to morality. It’s an embodiment of how powerful fandom can be, and the ever-challenging question of who owns art: the artists creating it or the fans purchasing it.

I know Marvel got locked into this storyline long ago, thinking that the old good guy turns bad switcheroo was a comics book staple, but those days are over now.

§ Also over maybe, line wide events? This article at CBR suggests so.

We’ve come to expect that every year the seeds for an event will be planted to culminate in a crossover that summer. Now, it seems like the only thing that makes these stories different from one another are the principle cast members. It doesn’t help that Marvel touts each crossover as a universe-altering incident that will have repercussions for years to come. How can this be true if the following year’s incident will change the status quo that had been established just a year prior?

§ Finally, this photo from the set of Logan got punked on the internet and now Snopes had to explain that, no it isn’t a photo of a man who got mugged on his way to buy comics for his daughter. Fake news. It’s everywhere.

Kibbles ‘n’ Bits 3/15/17: Please muzzle Finn Jones § Nice Art: Francesco Francavilla gave us the Thing vs Thing team-up we've all dreamed of…

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

Here is my first attempt at writing for the Supergirl fandom. I don’t know if it’s any good but I’m pretty proud of it.

This story does contain a minor character’s death but is mostly just 2500 words of Winn-centric angst with the tiniest bit of Monwinn thrown in because I’m weak and literally can’t help myself.

leaving these broken pieces behind you

“Winslow Schott Sr., aka the Toyman, was found guilty today for his acts of terror on the city last year. Previously serving a life sentence, Schott has now received the death penalty and is scheduled to be executed by way of lethal injection later this month. Family members of his original victims declined to comment and….”

Winn didn’t hear any more as he quickly made his way out of the cafe, forgetting all about his coffee and the donuts he’d promised to bring Kara. He doubted that anyone there even knew who he was, but it still felt like all eyes were on him.

Had he known what was happening in a courtroom on the other side of the city, he would have never left his apartment this morning.

He’d wanted nothing to do with the trial. Agent Chase had promised him that he wouldn’t have to testify, and so he’d pushed it all from his mind. He’d tried to anyway.

Numbly walking into the DEO he knows he’s not imagining the stares any longer. People here know his name and oh how he wishes he could go back to the days of being the invisible tech guy. Before he can reach his desk he hears someone calling his name and the attention it draws makes his skin itch and his throat tighten.

“Winn! Are you alright? We heard–”

“I’m fine Kara, honestly.” His smile is too wide, his cheerfulness is too fake. He doesn’t care.

“But Winn–”

“I said I’m fine,” he shouts.

Kara’s eyes widen briefly before a look of hurt passes over her features. Again, he can’t really bring himself to care.

“Sorry,” he offers halfheartedly, “but I really need you to drop it.”

Kara goes to speak again, but Alex stops her with a hand on her arm as she walks up to them.

“Winn, why don’t you go home for today. That wasn’t a suggestion,” she adds before he can argue. “We’ll call you in if anything major comes up, but otherwise we don’t need you here being distracted.” Her voice carries all the authority of an Assistant Director, but her eyes hold that same soft Danvers concern he’s used to only seeing from Kara.

Grabbing his bag he walks back out without a word.

“Whiskey and make it a double.”

“Sure thing buddy!” On some level Winn can see that Mon-El has gotten better at his job; he doesn’t even need to check the labels before grabbing the right bottle anymore. Normally Winn would feel proud of his sort-of friend but today he feels nothing. Or he feels too much, he’s not sure. The numb feeling had begun to subside on his walk over. He’s hoping the alcohol will help fix that.

Mon-El sets the shot glass in front of him and Winn knocks it back quickly before motioning for the Daxamite to pour him another. The bar is practically empty at this time of day and the other man stands back and watches with his usual charming smirk as Winn downs the second drink just as fast. Mon-El asks what brings him in this early, but he ignores him and the alien begins to ramble about his morning and the other patrons he’s served.

Winn’s not sure if he hasn’t heard the news or if he just doesn’t care. It could go either way with Mon-El. He grunts in response to the alien’s continued gossip and motions for him to pour a third shot.

Mon-El does so, but he watches him down it with a furrowed brow that on a normal day Winn would find cute. He asks for a beer and Mon-El sets it down before walking off to busy himself with something else, and Winn cares about his disappearance more that he’d like to.

He’s been at the bar for several hours and Mon-El has given him several more drinks without a word. Winn doesn’t notice when the alien slips out to make a phone call or when someone sits down on the bar stool next to him until they put a hand on his shoulder.

“Winn?”

He turns to stare at Kara for a moment before falling clumsily forward to rest his forehead on her shoulder. “I’m not fine,” he whispers brokenly.

“I know,” she replies. She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug and he both loves and hates that he can feel it.

When he wakes up in the morning there is a blissful few seconds where he doesn’t remember the events of the day before. Then, with the pain of his hangover it all comes rushing back.

He’s not in his bed but sprawled face down on Kara’s couch. The ridiculous amount of natural light that falls into her loft is blinding him and he gropes around for something to cover his head.

“Good morning.” Her voice is softer than the harsh knock of a mug against the table next to him and he’s grateful to have a best friend who knows how to control her volume.

He sits up slowly and grabs the mug, inhaling the scent deeply before taking a sip. Kara sits next to him on the couch and nervously adjusts her glasses.

“What can I do?” she eventually asks. The crinkle in her forehead is out in full force and he focuses on it as he thinks.

“Just be here, I guess?” It comes out as a question because he doesn’t know what he needs right now. He does know that he doesn’t want to push her away again though.

“Always,” she answers, although it wasn’t necessary. He already knows she’s not going anywhere.

“Winn are we not even going to discuss this?”

“There isn’t anything to discuss. It’s my decision and I’m not going,” he sighs. “I’m not going to the execution, and I’m sure as hell not going to see him beforehand.” He turns back to the monitors at his desk with an air of finality, but of course she doesn’t let it go.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye?” Kara leans against the desk, crosses her arms across her chest, and tilts her head to the side like she’s trying to read him.

He attempts to ignore her and focus on the schematics he’d been studying before she’d ambushed him, but her words ring in his ears.

He’d never gotten to say goodbye to his father; he’d never even really noticed when he disappeared. One morning his dad was there and the next thing he knew there was an unrecognizable monster in his place being dragged into jail. He’d never seen his father again and after last year he knew that he didn’t even exist anymore.

Winn angles his chair so he’s facing her head on. He tries to find the words to explain it to her and finally comes up with a pathetically simple, “No.”

“Why did you keep your name?” Mon-El asks. He’s at the bar again, but this time he’s sticking to club soda.

“Huh?” is his eloquent response.

The other man motions vaguely towards where Kara is standing watching Alex and Maggie play pool. “Kara told me you have the same name as your father and that it draws tension to you.”

“Attention,” Winn corrects.

The Daxamite nods before continuing, “She also said that your mother left you and you were given a new family. So why did you keep your name?”

Winn makes a mental note to talk to Kara about private information. Specifically that it is not to be shared with the hot alien frat boy he barely knows.

He can feel Mon-El’s eyes on him as he stares down into his glass and decides he needs something stronger for this conversation. Mon-El looks hesitant, but Winn promises to limit himself to one beer.

“I stayed with a lot of different families after my mom left,” he begins once he’s had a few sips of the alcohol, “but none of them really wanted to keep me so I wasn’t given a chance to change my name while I was in the system.”

Mon-El’s brow furrows and Winn definitely finds it cute this time.

“Why don’t you change it now?” The alien leans his forearms against the bar and his face is suddenly a lot closer. Winn’s not sure if it’s that or the beer taking quick effect that is making him feel lightheaded.

He sits back and drinks nearly half the bottle at once. “Why did you decide to go by Mon-El instead of using the name Kara gave you?” he eventually asks after a few moments of intense staring.

“Because it’s who I am, it’s the name I was given by my people and it’s a way for me to remember them by,” Mon-El says passionately.

Winn tips the bottle in the alien’s direction and raises an eyebrow smugly. “Well, there you go.”

“Hello Winn,” the cheerful voice startles him. He spins around in his chair and sees Mon-El approaching his desk.

“Hey dude, what,” he pauses and scratches the back of his head, turning back to his monitors, “what are you doing here?”

Mon-El leans casually against his desk and picks up a stapler, fiddling with it and wasting staples. “I’m here to train with Kara,” he says.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s been replaced in this aspect; it makes more sense for Kara to work with him since she can spar against him safely. It’s not like he misses watching the Daxamite show off his abilities. Definitely not.

Winn grabs the stapler as the constant clicking becomes annoying and sets it back on his desk. He brushes the small piles of staples into his waste basket and glances at the alien out of the corner of his eye. He barely notices the way the other man’s muscles flex and strain against his shirt sleeves when he crosses his arms.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Joi-join, join you?” Winn clears his throat. “Join you where?”

“For training!” Mon-El grins widely and rocks back on his heels. “I know your wig is out because of your dad and I thought a good work out might help you.”

“Wigging out, I’m wigging out because of my dad,” Winn corrects, and he realizes that it’s true. Even nearly three weeks later he’s still a mess of feelings, mostly anger. Maybe a round or two against the punching bag wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Unless, you think you can’t keep up with us?” Mon-El’s smirk is so smug Winn is tempted to exchange the punching bag for his face, if he didn’t have to worry about breaking his hand. Instead he settles for rolling his eyes.

“I’m still human dude, by definition I can’t keep up with you.” He turns back to the monitors and locks his computer before standing. “But I’m in, let’s go.”

“Sweetness!”

“Winn, Winn stop! Stop it!” Kara’s voice breaks through the haze of adrenaline he’s fallen under as she pulls him back, stopping his wild punches with her arms wrapped like a vice around his own. His breath is harsh and ragged, and his vision clears slowly, the red tint that had shadowed everything now receding.

A visibly concerned Mon-El is standing behind the punching bag to steady it. The fabric is marred with bright red streaks and Winn looks down at his shaking hands, the knuckles cracked and blood seeping through the tape he’d wrapped around them. He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Kara’s hold on him shifts into a comforting embrace. His tears soak through her cape as he lets out all of the emotions he’s bottled up these last few weeks. He cries for his father who died a long time ago, for his mother who’d been too weak to stay and live in her new reality, and for the little eleven year old boy who’d lost them both.

“I’ll go, but,” he looks up at Kara and Mon-El, who’d come to stand beside them, “will you come with me? Both of you,” he adds looking straight at Mon-El who looks surprised but nods right along with Kara.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Winn whispers as he glances around the small room. A curtain was drawn on the other side of the large window facing the rows of seats as if they were waiting for a play to start.

“Well then let’s go. This place is a bum,” Mon-El says loudly earning him some annoyed glances from the families of the Toyman’s victims.

Kara throws the Daxamite an exasperated look before turning to her best friend. “Winn, we’ll do whatever you want. Do you want to leave?”

Before he can answer, the curtain is pulled back and the room goes silent as the prisoner is led into the room by two guards. His face is passive and he looks more like his father than when Winn last saw him; older and grayer than in his childhood memories, but with the same stoic look that he would get when he was lost in thought.

Winn sits frozen in his seat and barely reacts when Kara grabs his hand and Mon-El puts an arm around his shoulders, subtly pulling him a little closer. His eyes trace his father’s face imagining the man he could have been, committing him to memory. That’s what he was here for after all; to say goodbye, to get closure. For the first time in a long time he allows himself to wonder what kind of life he would have had if none of this had ever happened.

While he’s being strapped down and his arm is prepped for the needle, the Toyman takes his time glancing at the crowd. His eyes meet Winn’s and his emotionless features are twisted up into a sinister smile. Winn looks down at his lap, not missing the wink the monster sends him or the way the aliens on either side of him each tighten their hold protectively.

The needle is inserted. Each plunger drops. One. Two. Three. And in just a few minutes the last piece of his father is gone. Everyone stands and starts to shuffle out of the room, and he practically has to be dragged out by his friends.

Winn doesn’t get to say goodbye and he doesn’t get closure.

Once again those have been stolen from him by the same evil that stole his family nearly fifteen years ago. Once again Winn is left to deal with the mess. Walking out of the prison, one hand still in Kara’s and the other claimed by Mon-El, he knows this time he won’t have to do it alone.

[4yourexcitement]

The earth has circled the sun 365 days and it is once again Darren Criss’ birthday. As has become tradition here at 4YE, we cannot pass February 5 without honouring one of our favourite humans. We’ve had our favourite original songs, the best things about entering your 30s, our hopes and dreams for his coming year, and songs we’d like to see him cover, just to name a few.

As well as being up there at the top of his singing, acting and songwriting game, Darren is also known for his iconic looks. Be it on screen or off, Darren has gifted us with his numerous looks that show off his own sense of style and confidence that fans cannot help but think of Darren when seeing. For his 32nd birthday, 4YE wants to take you on a journey of just a few of these looks.

His You-Tube Days

Before you could tune in each week to hear him cover songs on Glee, Darren was taking full advantage of a new video-sharing platform and uploading songs he had recorded in his bedroom. This is raw, bushy haired Darren and so much fun to look back on. Check out his Glee audition below.

I’m Harry-freaking-Potter

Darren’s work in Starkid’s A Very Potter Musical and its two subsequent sequels is where Darren got his first break and was introduced to an international audience after the videos were uploaded to YouTube and went viral among millions of Harry Potter fans. The songs, the humour, the camaraderie between the cast and the catchy, pop songs made these musicals fan favourites.  It’s no wonder that the first part of the first musical having currently amassed more than 15 million views. It also didn’t hurt that Darren looked an awfully like Harry Potter himself and so provided us really with the first iconic Darren look.

Credit: Team Starkid

Our Teenage Dream – Blaine “Warbler” Anderson

It’s hard to believe that it was only just over eight years ago that Blaine Anderson burst onto our screens and into both Kurt Hummel and our hearts. With his preppy Dalton Academy uniform, his oh-so-smooth and flirty vocals on his hit cover of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” and his wise and put-together bravado, it’s no surprise that his small guest spot turned into a series regular position and a coveted spot as one half of the iconic Klaine. You can’t think of early Blaine Anderson without the Dalton uniform, though there was some momentous occasions when we did see him out of the suit and tie.

1950s Dreamboat Blaine Anderson

We are not exactly sure what started it as it certainly wasn’t that evident in season 2, but from Blaine’s transfer to McKinley High, we were presented with 1950s Dreamboat, Dapper Darren. The ever-present bowtie, the polo shirts, a cardigan or sweater vest depending on the season, these aren’t exactly elements that would bring guys and girls to their knees. Yet somehow Darren rocked it and we were ever so grateful.

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Taking The Dapper Look To Broadway In How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying

Channeling Blaine Anderson’s dapperness, Darren lit up Broadway’s stage in his debut playing the ambitious J. Pierrepont Finch in a three week run of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.

  Credit: Bruce Glikas/Broadway.com

Putting On Some Make-Up And Pulling The Wig Down From The Shelf For Hedwig

Over the years a number of people have put on Hedwig’s wig taking to the stage as the eponymous character in the musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Over its 18 month Broadway run in 2014-15, Darren was just one of the draw-crowd stars to bring her to life. And he was the youngest actor to tackle the part. A hit with fans and dream-come-true character to play for Darren, he reprised the role for the San Francisco and LA legs of the tour production in 2016.

Credit: Joan Marcus

Killing Versace In American Crime Story

While there were definitely some notable looks from his award-winning turn as Andrew Cunanan in the latest season of American Crime Story – The Assassination of Gianni Versace, there were two in particular that have had a lasting impression on viewers and regularly pop up on the socials. That is of course THAT speedo and the red pantsuit. Both of these images will no doubt be doing the rounds for many years to come.

Darren Criss Dancing GIF from Darrencriss GIFs

Darren Criss Andrew Cunanan GIF from Darrencriss GIFs

The Photo Shoot That Broke The Internet

For those in the fandom for a while, you know exactly what photo shoot I’m referring to here. It started out like any other weekend and then suddenly manna from Heaven was dropped to us all with the release of approximately 100 photos from People magazine recent beach photo shoot with Darren to celebrate his Sexiest Man award. Did anyone get anything done at all for the next few days?

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The Pink Sunnies

A staple since his early days, Darren is known for his love of bright, bold colours and incorporating this into his look. This is none-so-evident as in his choice of sunglasses. While he has been known to rock shades with yellow, blue, white and the traditional black elements, it’s his signature pink sunnies that have left a lasting impression. Not to mention their way into many a fan’s collection.

Painted Nails

While Darren has been called upon to paint his nails for roles from time to time (such as Hedwig), Darren has been known to add more colour to his life by painting his nails. Be it  all one colour to perfectly accessorise an outfit/award ceremony, or a mixture of colours because… well why not, Darren always looks good with a touch of colour.

Credit: Darren Criss/Twitter

Credit: aol

Credit: Bruce Glikas/FilmMagic

Socks

Darren loves his accessories as we’ve seen and the quirkier/more fun the better. Life is never boring for Darren so why should his clothes be any different. Over the years we’ve seen glimpses of his fun style with socks… and who doesn’t love interesting socks?

Credit: Cinderella Broadway/Twitter

Credit: Fashion of Glee

Credit: Fashion of Glee

Credit: Fashion of Glee

Credit: Fashion of Glee

Or you know… go without

Another common footwear choice by both Darren and Blaine is to go sockless. Those Victorians were right about the appeal in showing a little ankle.

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University of Michigan Pride

It’s pretty hard to miss that Darren is an alum from UMich. If his tweets and pics don’t give it away, his shout out to his alma mater at the end of his Emmy’s acceptance speech last year kinda sealed the deal. But it’s not only the “Go Blue” shoutouts and hashtags, Darren can regularly be seen sporting UMich apparel.

Credit: Darren Criss/Twitter

Sweaty Darren Performance Mode

Anyone that has ever seen Darren perform live knows that the man gives it his all for every show. That means he rarely leave the stage not dripping… a look that becomes him well.

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Wear A Suit And Tie And Make It Your Own

Over the past decade, Darren has graced a number of red carpets. From premieres to award shows, to galas and special events, Darren knows how to work a red carpet. He’s also never afraid to play around with what he wears… and hardly ever makes a wrong step. He takes the traditional tux/suit and tie and makes it his own.

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Darren Criss Award Winner

This is the most recent look he has been rocking, and this is certainly one of our favourites. He has swept the field for his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan, taking home the Emmy, the Golden Globe, the Critics’ Choice and the Screen Actors Guild awards. While hardly an overnight success (we’ve been following him for almost a decade now), this role and the recognition it has garnered him has elevated him in the public’s notice and no doubt many in Hollywood and beyond are taking notice. We can’t wait for what’s next and many more examples of this look.

Credit: Ruben V. Nepales

Credit: Jordan Strauss / Invision / AP

Credit: Kevin Winter/Getty Images North America

Credit: Getty

Happy 32nd birthday Darren. We hope you have a totally awesome day!

4YE Celebrates Darren Criss’ 32nd Birthday With A Look At Some Of His Iconic looks On And Off Screen The earth has circled the sun 365 days and it is once again Darren Criss' birthday. As has become tradition here at…