#oh and i also fixed his teeth. hes been having teeth problems (i fucked up his textures but its ok now)

[azuredrg]

im up way past my bedtime because soemthing evil came over me (wanted to make raiden dragoner)

[kisakis-boyfriend]

might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️

Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.

“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”

The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.

Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.

“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.

“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”

“But what?”

“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”

—

While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.

“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”

Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.

You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.

“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”

As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.

If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…

“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”

“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.

It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…

“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”

The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.

“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.

A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.

“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”

A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…

For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.

“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.

You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.

It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–

“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.

“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.

You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……

His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…

[rory-multifandom-mess]

My Thad Headcanons

Because I'm so totally autism about him, you have no IDEA

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I took this from a fic I read, but Thad runs warm. By this I mean his cooling system likes to malfunction every now and then and he has to throw himself into a bunch of icepacks until it works again. If he overheats, he’ll shut down so it systems can cool down much like a phone would

He's self conscious about his sharp canines, but not in the sense that he’s constantly thinking about it. It’s more like a “if i look at myself in the mirror and see my smile, I’m going to remember they’re there and be like ‘oh. that’s not right.’” Because of his insecurity with his sharp teeth, he refuses to go to the dentist

The fact Uzi had a crush on him before meeting N absolutely flew over his head (he’s stupid)

He likes girls AND boys

Ever since the fight with J and V in the pilot, he coughs up oil on occasion. Basically; Worker Drones are stupid and don’t know anything about their own anatomy, so instead of trying to fix the internal damage, they just welded his wounds closed, so now he’s just perpetually internally bleeding

He heals pretty quickly and has a high pain tolerance (entirely because he’s a sports player, and also he heals quick because of the fact he runs warm)

Sometimes he’ll get nightmares about the attack with V and J and also when Solver yonk’d his ass in episode 2. These fucked him up for a little while after and he couldn’t sleep very well, but they’re not as big of a problem anymore

His room is usually surprisingly neat and full of trophies and medals and other various sports memorabilia

Gets really competitive during football matches, but has really good sportsmanship <3 like he’ll be screaming shit during the match and then he’ll lose and to the other team he’s like “good job guys you absolutely rocked it out there, but we’ll beat you next time i’m sure of it >:)” he likes a lil friendly competition

Thad and Lizzy are twins but he’s younger than her by like 2 minutes. She teases him for this. In retaliation, he teases her because he’s taller (by 1 inch)

Sometimes they get in trouble for ‘bullying” each other, but every time they do, Lizzy just says “Siblings are fair game!” and Thad nods

I think he says “no problemo” a lot. He also says other silly phrases like "Okie Dokie Artichokie" and calling things "Rad" and ironically saying" tubular." Lizzy says "This isn't the 80's" and then he responds with "Well the 80s were sick as heck dude so I don't care"

He's a morning person

Listens to highly energetic songs without paying attention to the lyrics, so he’ll listen to the most like. Innapropriate songs without even realizing it just because they’re bops

Gets dating advice from Ron (the drone at the door from episode 2 for those who forget the bg characters)

Yk how people will throw food like popcorn into the air and then catch it in their mouths? yeah he’s really good at that

Sometimes when he can’t sleep he goes out and plays basketball by himself. tires him out so he can eep

Has a nice singing voice, but he doesn’t think he does (i’m projecting)

He doesn’t like to swear, but sometimes jokingly says “I will swear word at you” to his friends

If he’s holding something, he’ll start idly just flip it in the air and catch it over and over. subconsciously too, he just does that

He also plays Soccer and Basketball

Sometimes when someone grabs him unexpectedly, he’ll flinch a little (thanks solver). This usually only happens if he’s been spacing out or doesn’t see the person who grabbed him at first

Chill until someone messes with Lizzy. Then he will fight. Though she’s one of the popular girls so it doesn’t happen often

Weak to flirting; he gets flustered easily. Yet he’s a total flirt when he likes someone and is comfortable enough around them

I like to think Thad gets hurt a lot because he’s a fucking football player and usually he doesn’t get it fixed because it’s normal, but Lizzy and/or Uzi will yell at him to get it fixed because it could fuck with the strength of his casing

One time Thad said “Bite me” to Uzi and she just looked at him like a smug cat while he had a moment

Sometimes he’ll try to hide in his collar when he’s flustered (it never works)

He, Lizzy, and Doll were a trio of best friends (Until Doll's Solver infection started getting really bad and began distancing herself from the other two)

[blessedbyapollo]

Nico was certain that a lifetime of prison would be worth it if he could just murder whoever lived above him. Unfortunately, that would mean he wouldn’t graduate on time, so it seemed he was doomed to eternal suffering.

The first month of fall semester, everything had been fine. There was no noise next to or above him. Life was great. Now, however, Nico was stuck hearing the people who lived above him fuck at 3 am, something that he previously did not know could carry through floors. Most of the time, he tackled this by going down the hall to sleep in Jason’s room on his soft rug. It was fluffy and cozy, and Jason regularly vacuumed so he knew there was no freshman flu embedded in the fibers.

It was coming up on months of those assholes’ reign of terror. Nico had come to terms with the fact that slapping the ceiling in hopes that they would hear it was not, in fact, as effective as he thought it would be. 3am be damned: this time he was going to tell them to shut the fuck up once and for all.

Percy was Nico’s in to the third floor. He was technically not allowed to be up there - he didn’t have a key (as far as anyone was concerned) so it was not his place to enter. Truly, he didn’t use the totally-not-key that Percy had given him unless it was an absolute emergency.

It was an absolute emergency.

Based on the positioning of where he knew the bathroom was on each floor, Nico knew exactly which door to knock on. He just hoped that whatever was going on before had started to cool off as he approached the overly-decorated door.

He paused a moment. Did he really want to see what was happening here? Did he really need to talk to them, or could he just go the classic “tell my RA and pretend they solved the problem” route? He observed the name tags stuck to the door that read “Will,” “Leo,” and “Travis.” They were shaped like Amongus characters. Nico hated it deeply. He knocked.

He heard a muffled “What’s up?,”but before he could answer he was stopped with a hand suddenly smacking the doorframe next to him, which totally did not make him jump. When he looked up, what he saw totally did not make him blush.

The guy next to him was, to put it bluntly, hot, but not in a way that Nico believed any sane person should find as attractive as he did. He was wearing a truly atrocious shirt: a Storm Trooper covered in Christmas lights that said “Merry Sithmas.” Underneath that gray shirt was…another gray shirt, yet long sleeved and just close enough to the color of the graphic tee that it looked weird. His shaggy blonde curls were a mess, but were, in what appeared to be his most redeeming physical factor, an absolutely radiant gold color. His blue eyes were fixed on Nico far too calmly for someone who he had clearly never met before.

Nico was a goner. A goner for a nerd in a bad shirt who definitely lived in that sex dungeon he was coming to take down.

Instead of revealing this, he said, suavely: “Are you Will, Leo, or Travis?”

Mystery nerd finally startled at that.

“How did you know my name?” He fervently whispered. Nico raised an eyebrow and pointed to the name tags on the door.

“It’s right there, genius. And that doesn’t answer my question.” The guy seemed to relax a bit at that.

“Oh thank god, for a second I thought you might have been the campus stalker that Travis won’t shut up about.” Ok, so not Travis. “I’m Will.” He finally said, eyes wide. Nico nodded in acknowledgement.

“Hello, Will. Do you happen to know which one of your roommates is currently in there?” Will pulled out his phone and furrowed his brow. He seemed to be checking the time, which Nico found strange considering it was obviously Too Fucking Late.

“I’m not convinced it’s Leo, but I’m also not convinced it ISN’T Leo. He usually stays out late working, but not this late.”

“Well then where were you this late?”

“Working.” Will said, grinning widely. His two front teeth were slightly crooked and his whole face lit up when he smiled. Goner. “Either way, what does it matter to you?”

“Whoever it is in there is getting up to some, uh, stuff that I can hear all the way on the floor below.” Nico said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants. Did they have dinosaurs on them? Yes. Were they any more embarrassing than gray-on-gray Star Wars apparel? Absolutely not.

“Oh, I doubt it’s Leo then.”

“That’s all you have to say? No explanation for how someone, apparently ‘Travis’, can defy all laws and be heard THROUGH the floor?” Nico’s hands were fully out of the pockets then. Will shrugged, then looked down in what appeared to be genuine apology.

“I’m sorry about that, uh-“ He looked up in question.

“Nico.”

“Nico. I’m sorry, then, Nico, truly. It sucks to be up this late, especially in the middle of the week and especially against your will.” Damnit. That was genuine too. “But, hey, if it makes you feel any better, I doubt that Travis is like, actually doing it in there. He’s probably just playing a game.”

“WHAT?” Nico asked incredulously. He had clearly heard something else happening.

“Yeah, no, Travis doesn’t have people over very often, and when he does he at least leaves a sock on the door. Um, anyway,” Will continued quickly at the look on Nico’s face. “He makes way incriminating noises when he plays video games. Look, I can prove it.” Will reached for the door at the exact same time Nico shielded his eyes. When he removed his hands, he saw….

…Nothing. Genuinely nothing. Just some guy sitting on a ratty - was that a dog bed? - playing some kind of game.

“Ugh fuck me!” He screamed, pounding his fists on the floor. Nico wasn’t sure if it relieved him or not to know that he had heard the exact same thing and assumed the worst context. But, this was definitely his culprit, and he was definitely alone.

“Travis!” Will said, in a tone far bossier than he had greeted Nico with. “Dude, shut up! You’re being way too loud!” Travis looked up at Will with a quirked eyebrow.

“Says literally who, William?” Will, who was clearly excited to prove himself right, jumped a bit and pointed directly at Nico. He waved at them both tiredly.

“Wait. Shit. Who is that?”

“Nico.”

“I’m Nico.”

“Hi Nico. Where are you from?” Travis had switched off the TV at that point.

“The second floor of this building.”

“Ah shit are you-“

“Room 220.” They said in unison. Will looked completely lost.

“How did you know what room he was in?” Will said in the same whisper-yell from earlier.

“Dude. We’re room 322. The floors are two rooms off, so he’s right below us.” Travis reclined further on the - yep, it was definitely a dog bed.

“Okay literally how was I supposed to know that. How do YOU know that?” Nico noticed that Will made wild hand gestures when he talked, and they had begun to accelerate. He figured it was time to step in.

“It truly does not matter at all how or why or when you all figured this out, I’m just here to tell you to shut the fuck up.”

“Oh.” Travis said.

“So true.” Will said.

“Sorry man.” Travis again.

“Also, and not that I care, but where is your third roommate at 3am?” They both exchanged suspicious looks.

“Probably with Jason Grace. Do you know him? He lives on the second floor.” Nico gaped at them. HIS Jason? His wonderful soft rug angel?

“I do know Jason, actually. I sleep on his rug whenever you buffoons are too loud, which is literally at least two nights a week at this point.” Nico almost regretted his tone when he saw Will’s shoulders fall again ever so slightly. He clearly felt bad about it, even though, from what Nico gathered, he was not the main perpetrator.

Travis, on the other hand, looked…offended? “You SLEEP on a RUG? Dude, I’m so sorry! Jason’s rug is probably gross as fuck, too!” Will made an “amen” gesture to that, his eyes still slightly downcast.

“Do not diss that rug. That rug is the best thing in my life right now.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s comfy. And you make sex noises when you play video games.” Travis put his hand over his heart.

“He got you, man. We’ve told you this for WEEKS!” Will’s beautiful grin was back. He snapped his fingers on the word “weeks” for absolutely no reason. If anything, it just made the whole situation louder.

Travis, who had just started to look guilty for the first time, reeled again. “Okay, well, in my defense, you said you’d ask Cecil to go into Connor’s room and smack the floor to see if we could hear it and you literally never did. So. That’s on you.”

Will turned to Nico with his mouth open and palms out, like some kind of dehydrated fish. God he was hot.

“Connor is literally YOUR brother, you dillweed! Also, I’m never in this room. Like. Ever. So if anything that’s Leo’s job.”

“My what?” Said a voice behind Nico. It didn’t take much even in his absolutely braindead state for him to deduce that it was Leo.

“Will thinks you’re not pulling your room-weight.” Travis said, now just fully laying across the dog bed.

Will put his head against the wall in exasperation. “I did not even kind of say that.” He told the corner. Leo reached his arm fully around Nico to pat Will’s shoulder. It took more self restraint than Nico cared to admit to not smack his arm out of the way.

“I believe you, comrade.” Leo said in a shitty Russian accent. Then, regularly: “I frankly don’t give a shit what you were talking about as long as I can go to bed right now.”

“Ugh yeah. You and me both.” Will said, turning to Nico. He didn’t break eye contact with him as he said. “Also, Leo, this is Nico.” Leo clapped his hands louder than Nico needed to hear at any given point. He pointed directly at Nico.

“RUG DUDE! JASON’S FRIEND! Why are you here?” Nico felt a bit honored that his rug was finally getting the recognition it deserved.

“Ask them.” He said.

“We’re way too loud.”

“YOU’RE way too loud, Travis.”

“I’ll believe anything that comes out of Will’s mouth. Travis, shut the fuck up.”

“Why him? What has Will ever done to earn so much trust?”

“He made me soup.” And then, simultaneously: “I made him soup.”

“I can respect that.” Nico said. Will opened his mouth to go on what would likely be a Long One, but Nico, to his great surprise, put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, all I needed to do was say that you’re being too loud. I don’t care who, or why, but just please be more conscious. I’m sure you all have finals too, so let me get some goddamn sleep. Cool?”

Will gave him a sheepish thumbs up, arm slightly stiff under Nico’s hand. He quickly withdrew it. Travis nodded shamefully, and Leo threw a two finger salute his way. “Great. I’ll see at least one of you around Jason’s room apparently.”

As Nico shut the door and shuffled his way down the hallway in his clunky shower shoes, the sounds of muffled arguing following close behind. He couldn’t help but hope he ran into that group some other time. Except maybe without Travis. Or Leo…

Yep. Goner.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

What about me?!

Niko were freaking out.

After 2 decades of working for Asmodeus, sticking close to the man and managing every little detail for the man he could, he knew this had to be a joke.

Surely it was just some elaborate hoax made up by Mammon to get back at Asmodeus right?

Yeah! That was it! No way he'd do something like that, no way! Not after all they've been through.

Not after the countless, sleepless nights he'd worked his ass for fixing some flaw that would ruin Asmodeus' passion projects. Those projects rarely ever turning a profit, but still!

He'd had been doing damage control for the past hour when Asmodeus finally strutted in, in his arms the source of this entire fuck up.

"Ozzie, thank Satan! You won't believe this, people are going off on some shit about you being in love!"

He tried to laugh it off, only to get Ozzie's best fish out of water look.

"Well, uh, Niko, you see, mmmh~ things have changed."

Niko slumped as Ozzie began explaining, man containing a moan as Fizz was attacking his neck with his lips, the Imp staring at the floor as he processed what was happening.

'This was all real?'

As his mind raced, Ozzie and Fizz would be getting all cutesy, fizz nuzzling him as Ozzie giggled, the pair off in their own world.

"O-Ozzie, come on. You can't be serious?"

He asked, Ozzie giggling as Fizz bit his neck.

"L-Look Niko, I get your worried but this is no big deeeeeaaall~"

He turned back to Fizz the the two caught back up in their own little world, Ozzie walking off.

"No big deal?! OZZIE!" Niko called, the Imp rushing after the big man, struggling to keep up. "Ozzie think about this!"

He gasped, finally getting in front of him.

"Ozzie, do you have any idea what this will do to your reputation?" He asked, Ozzie like so many times before had simply snorted, giving him that ole faithful smile, the sort that had once sent shivers down his spine, but now he just saw as him saying 'oh stop worrying' any time he brought an actual problem up with him.

The same he'd had when that initial article about Fizz and Him being more then just simple FBTAWT (Fuck-Buddies-That-Also-Work-Together) but he'd just given him that SAME DAMN LOOK! And as always, Niko had just let it slide.

Well not this time Buster!

With rapidly growing frustration he grit his teeth, the Imp puffing up as he tried to reason with the Sin who he'd dedicated his life to.

"Ozzie, just think about this!!" He vaguely gestured to him and Fizzarolli. "Is this worth everything you've worked for?" He asked, trying to reason with the Sin.

Ozzie just rolled his eyes, telling him shortly. "I hear you Niko and we'll talk later Niko, now I have a relationship to officiate~" He purred, licking up the side of Fizzarollis face before he went to walk past him.

Niko grit his teeth as the sin walked past him, Niko calling out.

"Everything?! Youd give up everything you've built, Ozzie!?" He called out, getting desperate now. "Everything WE'VE built together?! All of it!?!?"

"YES!!!" Ozzie shouted back, the very palace around him shaking, the Sins flames flaring up. "I'd give it all up for Him!"

Niko stood there, peering at the floor, the Imps shoulders slumping.

The Imp stood there, mind rushing with a million thoughts a second.

"Everything. . . ?" He asked softly.

The imp pulled up his phone, his lockscreen probably the best picture he'd ever taken.

It was their first major product launch, Niko still had the bags under his eyes from his almost week long work haul. But he fucking did it, him and Ozzie taking a victory selfie.

He was younger, still green, and giddy as fuck at being so close to Asmodeus.

He can still remember how surreal it had been.

Him, some nobody Imp managed to catch the eye of his Idol, and was working directly for him.

'. . . Everything. . .'

Niko's gaze moved from his phone onto his coat sleeve.

It was a finely made thing, actually being a simpler version of Ozzie's own Lustrous threads, though obviously far smaller.

After a moment he slid it off.

He held that thing like it were unholy.

Asmodeus had gotten it for him when he'd achieved his official 'Number 1 Helper Role' Niko was deathly protective of it, treating the thing like a member of the royal family, never taking it of.

Literally.

Asmodeus actually ended up getting him a second one just so he could interchange them while he washed one.

But now, holding the thing, he felt... Nothing.

"Everything." He spoke, just loud enough to be heard.

Niko, swallowing the lump in his throat, wiped his eyes, perching his lips as he cleared his throat.

"I... I'm sorry sir, but consider this my resignation." He spoke, voice slightly shaken, the Imp placing the coat on the floor.

Looking up at the man he finished, barely keeping his composure.

"Goodbye, O-... Goodbye Sir. And good luck."

With that he walked away, wiping his eyes as he left the building.

"W-Wait! Niko, hold on a second!" Asmodeus called, a sombre realisation crossing the Sins face.

Fizzarolli, seeing Ozzie's reaction, the man freaking out.

The Sin wearing his, 'oh I've really fucked up now' face.

Fizz, not wanting to see his love in such a state sighed.

Leaning in he kissed the Sin on the cheek, telling him simply. "Why dont you go ahead and get the bed ready babe, I'll go talk to him."

He said, zipping out of the man's arms. Ozzie went to argue but Fizz was already at the door before he could say anything.

Fizz didn't really know Niko, like, hed met him, and was something of a second in command to Ozzie, but he'd never really held a conversation with the Imp. Though that's probably more his fault then Niko's.

Stepping outside, Fizz found Niko sat at the bottom of the huge set of stairs that made up the front of the building.

Zipping his way down, he pulled up a seat besides the Imp.

Upon noticing the Former clown pull up besides him Niko quickly wiped his eyes, the man trying to hide the way he was sniffling as he cleared his throat.

There were several seconds of awkward silence before Niko finally spoke.

"What do you want?"

Fizz, a little taken aback by his bluntness, he was usually so calm and friendly, at least when speaking to Ozzie. Damn...

After a moment Fizz chuckled awkwardly.

"I uh, wanted to make sure you were okay?" He more asked then stated.

Niko gave hime a 'WTF' face, looking him up and down.

"Why?" Niko asked bluntly. "Why would you give a shit about me?"

Fizz chuckled, internally asking himself the same question.

"Well honestly, I don't." He hummed, Niko glaring at him. "It's Ozzie that gives a shit."

"HA!" Niko barked, the man laughing to himself. "Yeah, whatever you say."

"Didn't Care?!?!"

Fizz frowned, rolling his eyes, before beginning snidely. "Well, if you'd bother to stick around, you might have seen his reaction. He was pretty torn up by you just up and quitting... Not that you seem to care." He grumbled the last part, looking away from the man.

Fizz froze as a viciously snarl filled the air, the Imp freezing as he looked over to a now very pissed off Niko.

He practically snarled, the Imp standing up, looming over him. "I don't fucking care?!?!?"

"Do you have any idea how hard I've worked for him?!" He growled, standing over Fizzarolli. "Do you have any idea what I fucking do in a day! A single day, just so he can enjoy himself! How many trips I have to make across this accursed Ring to get everything just as he likes it!"

"A job thats only gotten harder sinc YOU came around by the way! Who the fuck need 49 cans of whipped cream at 3 in the Lucifer damned morning!? And I know it's you who ordered it cause Ozzie asks for that shit, in advance!"

He was royally pissed now, Fizzarolli cringing under the Imps scrutiny.

"I've dedicated my life to that fucking man... spent years, Decades! Dedicated to him, helping him! Helping him keep all this!" He gestured to the exorbitant palace that was Asmodeus' main hub, the place Niko had worked at for the past 2 decades. "Up and running, bringing it into the modern age!"

He huffed and puffed for a second before Slumping, the man sitting down again, head in his hands.

"I helped him keep this shit in line. Kept it relevent and up to code, helped him keep his status and influence. All of it..."

Several seconds of awkward silence rang out before Niko piped up with.

"Everything... do you have any idea what it's like to hear someone you dedicated your life too say they'd give up everything you've done for them..." Niko looked at him. "For someone else?"

Fizzarolli stared at him for a minute, really taken aback.

". . . Damn..." he sighed. He had to admit, that really would suck.

Niko actually laughed at that, the Imp wiping his eyes.

"You know, I started in the R&D department, an engineer." He hummed, smiling softly. "I was this scrawny little thing, some self taught nerd that managed to land a job working Asmodeus. I don't know how but, I caught Asmodeus' eye and next thing you know, I'm doing things for him. Working on his special projects, it was incredible."

The Imp spoke warmly, sighing as he rested his head in his hands.

"When he needed something done, he'd come to me. ME! Of all Imps. Trusting me to handle the things nobody else could."

He was smiling now, the Imp shaking his head.

"Ozzie was different back then. More... arrogant." Niko mused, thinking back on those days. "Partying, the man up at all hours. And the fucking 'Spurs of Inspiration' sparking his Brilliant ideas!"

"Next thing I know, I'm his 'Number one Hell-per'." He laughed at that, the sort of laugh that left Fizz feeling like he was missing the joke.

"Sorry, inside joke." Niko chuckled, the Imp glad to see the man annoyed. And admittedly it made Niko feel good.

He had something over the jester.

Niko chuckled, wiping his face. "He was going through one of his fazes... which, admittedly, was what I thought you were in the beginning." Niko finished, giving him the side eye.

Fizz scowled at that, the man glaring right back, the Robo-Imp starting to regret his desicion to come out here.

"But sure enough you stuck around..."

Niko stared at the ground, before sighing.

"And now he loves you."

Fizz stared at the Imp for several moments, neither of them saying anything as Niko sighed, the Imp slumping back and staring into the Lust city smog, lights and the occasional firework filling the sky.

"You know what the worst part is. Really, the worst part of all of this is."

He asked to no one in particular.

". . . I was in Love."

He sounded sombre, the Imp staring calmly into the sky.

"It was a few years into our professional relationship, when i started working directly for him. I fell in love. He was... everything. Everything I could want."

He smiled, a fond little smile as he remembered those days.

"He was sweet and smart, he consumed my thoughts, it took me a long time to realise that it was love. As in, a Loooong time, but sure enough, there I was. In love."

He chuckled, a happy grin crossing his face as he sighed, the man slumping against his knees.

"I told Oz-... Asmodeus. Ya know what he said?"

The man now directing his gaze to the clown, a questioning cock to his brow.

Fizz didn't say anything but Niko continued anyway.

"He told me, 'love is commitment. Dedication. Love is restraint, and the only restraints allowed on Lust are leather'." The Imps smile faded, the Imp pulling his knees to his chest.

But it was a significant he saw the hint of a tear in his eye, that he came to his realisation.

"Holy fuck... You love Ozzie, don't you?"

Biko froze, eyes widening just a hair before he cleared his throat.

"I don't know what your talking about."

It was Fizzarollis turn to laugh, the Clown fiddling with his torn shirt, laying back with a cocktail smile.

"Trust me buddy, I've lived through that bullshit once. You can lie to yourself, but I can see right through that bullshit~"

Niko sat there, tense for several minutes before he sighed, slumping over his knees.

Fizz smiled softly, adjusting his seating, scooting towards the man a little before telling him.

"So what, not like it matters anymore." Niko finished, perhaps a little too salty.

"You should just tell him, you know. You might be surprised."

At that Niko laughed.

He laughed a long, cold laugh, Nikos laugh growing harder and more exhausted.

The Imp slumped back, the man wiping his eyes as he sighed.

". . . You fucking would say that, wouldn't you." He chuckled, the man rubbing his face as he looked at him, Niko giving him a cold stare. "We're not all as lucky as you, ya know.

Fizz drew himself back, shocked, before he scoffed, the Former Clown scoffing.

"Oh, so your one of them, aren't you?"

Niko raised a brow, asking coarsely.

"The fuck does that mean?"

Fizz scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh you know, the 'I paid my life savings to you so you owe me your asshole virginity and your first born!' Kinda asshole!" The Imp practically sneered, having far too much of that for one day.

What he didn't expect was for Niko to disappear, only to suddenly be standing over him, hands gripping his ornate collar, a fire in his eyes as he stared down at him.

"How. Fucking. Dare. you!"

He sneered, scowl growing fierce as he slammed the Imp back, Niko standing over him as he gripped his collar tight.

"I served him for years. YEARS!!! I never asked for any more then he was willing to give! And after Decades! NEARLY 20 FUCKING YEARS!!! HE GIVES IT ALL UP FOR WHAT?!"

He was scowling, breathing heavy as he threw him to the floor, the Imp breathing heavy, his eyes stinging as he rubbed a hand to his eyes.

"I dedicated my fucking life to him and who does he choose... some fucking clown..." he finished dejectedly, the Imp stumbled back as he looked away.

"He couldn't even be honest to me..."

The Imp stumbled back, the Imp falling to his ass a few steps besides the former Clown.

"I never asked for more then he could give. I gave him everything I had and more... I never expected praise, or riches. I was happy with what we had... with the connection we shared... Buy if I'd thought for a second. For a FUCKING SECOND! That confessing to him would mean anything, I would have..."

The man looked up at Fizz, tears in his eyes.

"I never expected anything but the truth... and even that was too much..."

The Imp pulled himself together, the man standing up as he rubbed his face, the man furiously wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I'm done, Fizz!" He gasped, breathe coming in quickly and shuddering. "You win! Your the best man!"

The Imp turned, staring out at the city.

"And I'm... Not enough..."

He sighed, slumping forwards, the man utterly dejected.

Fizz took a minute to recover, but fixing his attire, the Imp stood up, reaching out he placed a hand on Nikos shoulder, telling him softly.

"Come inside... We can talk about this." He bagan almost pleading. "Ozzie... he'll understand."

Niko shrugged him off, the man releasing a heavy sigh.

"Maybe... maybe he would."

Niko hummed, before sighing, the Imp rubbing his face, before turned looking at the Imp over his shoulder.

Niko stared at him for several mioment before he wiped eyes, the Imp turning to him, his face stone.

"Maybe he would, but I... I just can't.... I'd rather work a dead end, no lifer jobs then spend another minute working for the man I love..." Niko paused, realising this was the first time he'd ever actually said the words aloud.

"I'd rather work a dead end job with no future then continue working for someone I love, knowing full well I'll never be able to be with them. Knowing I... I lost."

Niko fixed his shirt, the man checking his cufflinks, the small metal pieces another gift from Asmodeus, the man's crest emblazoned on his cufflinks.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up straight, the man peering out at the glistening light lights of the city.

"I'm done Fizzarolli... I concede, not like i have any right too. Tell Ozzie, I'm... Sorry. But I'm done. I... can't take it anymore..."

The man slid the cufflinks from his wrists, the Imp looking up before he sighed, the Imp dropping the pieces of metal to the floor, each hitting the floor with a metallic ting.

"Goodbye. Tell him goodbye for me, won't you?"

He asked softly, glancing at him once more before he turned back, the Imp walking off, the man stepping off of the buildings steps, the man disappearing in the cities glitter and glam.

Fizzarolli sat there for a minute, unsure what to say... what to think.

Catching the glint off of something, the Imp shot his arm out and grabbed the glittering spot.

Bringing it back, he found your cufflink,the gentle insignia of Asmodeus glittering back at him.

Fizzarolli sat there for a long time, staring at that cufflink.

He reflected on how similar the two were.

And in a sad sort of way, he was right.

He did win. And while he felt a pang of sadness for the man, seeing him lose. Even if he wasn't in the running, the man should have at least had an honest chance to tell Ozzie how he felt.

He didn't regret it. He had the man he loved and nothing would change that.

"Good luck Niko..."

He spoke softly, the Imp getting and heading back inside, the man determined not to leave his love alone for a minute longer.

Hey Hey Y'all, sorry for not posting lately.

With this piece I kinda wanted to make an inverse of the creepy dude who stalked Fizzarolli in thr latest episode, with the man's feelings more genuine, yet it kinda being muddled, but hey, let me know what ya think. Was Niko an asshole? Was Ozzie the ass? Is Fizz a damn good character? (Spoiler: He is.)

But yeah, hope you enjoy it, and I'll try and put more content out there. Bye Bye.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 1

Pairing: Osha Aniseya/Qimir "The Stranger" Themes of note: Modern AU, coffee shop AU, boxing/fighting AU, slow burn romance, personal identity exploration, sports injury & recovery, angst yada yada. First few chapters are rated T, but bumps to M eventually. Summary: One cold winter night, Osha meets a stranger while she's working late at the cafe. Like the spark that lights a very long fuse, there's no way this doesn't end in fire and upheaval.

A/N: Mehmehmehmeh I ain't back on tumblr this is just another horn of mine to toot lol it's also on my AO3 is why. This is also written for da bestie and is held hostage by them (affectionate). Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 1: round one

Somehow, the mysterious problems with the espresso machine returned.

Not that anyone asked her, but Osha didn’t believe it was pure coincidence that this was the fifth time she’d been called in to fix the machine immediately after Yord was on the schedule. It couldn’t wait for her next shift because most people who needed espresso needed it in the mornings, and Mae worked the morning shift.

Regardless, it wasn’t a coincidence. Osha just wanted to get quietly pissed at a fixable problem so that by the time it was fixed, she’d forget what she was pissed about. With just the lights on behind the bar and the small flashlight in her mouth, she tried not to think about how eerie the cafe looked at night. The snow swirling in the windowsill outside served as an unhelpful reminder that her car was still in the shop, and the walk back to the apartments would be very, very cold.

But the hot water tap had priority over that. This was the most temperamental part of the whole unit, a half dozen little fastenings keeping it pinned to the machine wall to prevent it from lashing out all over the place every time anyone pressed a button. Each gentle click of her spanner sounded like a clap of thunder in the deserted shop, and a sensation of deep, deep dread she hadn’t felt in years rose in her chest. “Shit,” she whispered, forgetting about the flashlight in her teeth and spitting it out onto the floor. “Damnit.”

When she stood, a man was standing behind the machine.

“Fuck!”

The man was lucky; Osha might not have had the left hook her sister did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have one hell of a swing. She almost threw the flashlight at him but held on, wielding it like a four-inch baseball bat.

The man’s face went from neutral and stony to overly expressive in a heartbeat. “Oh! I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you!” he said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head. Osha took him in, the baggy hoodie and jeans, the glasses, the toothy smile, the black bag slung over his shoulder. All in all, he didn’t look harmless, but he didn’t look like he meant her harm either.

“We’re closed.”

“The door was, uh, unlocked.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door, giving her a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

“Even so, we’re still closed. You have to go.” For a moment, she considered grabbing the portafilter as a potential weapon. It’d certainly work better than the flashlight.

He put both his hands up. “Alright, alright. Can’t I just… step out of the cold for a minute or two? I’ll stay over here by the door.”

She shouldn’t. This man was undoubtedly a stranger, and a strange stranger, at that. But she knew the biting cold wasn’t pleasant, and her kind streak had never entirely been snuffed out.

“Fine. Sit there.” She pointed to a table where she could get a complete look at him while she continued working. He went willingly but faced her when he took his seat.

“Thank you,” he said, head tilting slightly to the side. “Not many people would be so kind.”

She didn’t look over at him, only answered him with a grunt as she tore into the hot water line with more ferocity than necessary. How in the hell did Yord mess this up? Nobody even touches this but me!

“I thought this place was open 24 hours,” the stranger said conversationally. When he realized Osha wouldn’t answer him, he continued. “Didn’t it used to be? It was always packed, classes at midnight and sunrise and sunset.”

That piqued her interest. Osha paused her crusade against the tap and frowned at him. “Are you a member at the gym?”

Even from here, she could see his jaw clench a little, one muscle feathering so quickly it might have been a trick of the light. “Oh, a long time ago. A lot must have changed if you’re the only one on staff right now.”

It sounded threatening. It should have been threatening. A strange man had come in, told her he had some measure of fight training, and pointed out she was alone. Yet, Osha couldn’t put her finger on why she saw it as bluster. The dread in her chest had entirely dissipated, and her heartbeat had returned to normal following the stranger’s sudden appearance.

“How long ago? I’ve been here a long time, too. Know everyone here.” She kept one eye on him as she worked, uncoupling the wall fastenings for the line to the group head. 

“It was a long, long time ago. But hey—there might be a few days of overlap if you’ll answer a question for me.”

She frowned and kept her focus on the machine. “Go ahead.”

“You’re Osha, right?”

Her hand slipped, and she dropped the spanner deep into the machine’s body. Biting back a curse, her attention warred between the stranger knowing her name and grabbing her tools.

“H-how do you know that?” C’mon, where is it?

In the seconds she’d been looking away, he had stood up to prop his hip against the table he’d been sitting at. “I remember two little girls coming in for one of the children’s sunrise classes I was in. Twins, and I swear they looked just like you and your sister.”

For an instant, she tried picturing this strange man as a child, but she hardly remembered anything from her first few weeks at the gym when their dad had taken them to train. Her imagination wouldn’t be of any help here.

“You know my sister?”

“Mae? Oh, I’ve met her a few times in passing. It’s a small city if you get out enough. I only knew your names as a child, though.” He gave a breathy, goofy laugh, pulling at something like interest in Osha’s belly.

She supposed he was near her age. He looked young, but some people’s genes aged more gracefully than others. “It—yeah. I’m Osha. What’s—what are you doing?”

Slowly, he walked toward the counter beside the machine. The conversation had thawed the ice of their meeting a little, which could have permitted a closer boundary, but it was still a little alarming. “My hearing isn’t the best. Get your bell rung enough times, and it never stops singing, does it?”

He tilted his head in the light to show her the slightly blue shell of his ear—it’d been likely drained from a hematoma to prevent cauliflower ear. You didn’t have ears like that without being in the ring for a while. She also saw a pair of charming little twists in his hair to keep it off his ears, which shouldn’t have been so… cute. This guy was a lot of things, but cute didn’t seem like one of them. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, leaning on the counter with his forearms. The hoodie covered his body shape well, but from where it dropped off at the shoulders, he must have been incredibly broad. “It’s incredible, actually.”

“What is?” She shook off her single-bed shoulder musings.

“You look… exactly like her.”

His voice had dropped, along with the convivial squint to his eyes. His voice sounded dark and rich as his near-black irises and every part of her perked up in response. “Um.” Osha racked her head for an intelligent comeback, settling on, “Well, that’s not uncommon for twins.”

The playful lilt to his voice returned. “Yeah,” he grinned. “But really, down to how you frown at me, you two look so alike. It’s impressive.”

Osha frowned at him, then tried not to and failed. The stranger only smiled, a flash of that darker look shining through. Now thoroughly flustered, Osha turned back to the machine. “How’d you know I wasn’t Mae when you walked in?”

“I just knew.” She saw him shrug again in her periphery and continued wrenching back the hot water tap. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn’t wrong with it, more like.” She grunted and released another fastening. Now that there was an open entrance for her to stick her hand in, she felt around for the spanner she’d dropped. “This thing has to be like 25,000 years old.”

“That may be truer than you think.”

She met the stranger’s eyes, charmed by his easy smile and laughter. She’d never been one to make fast friends; that was more Mae’s speed, but whatever this conversation was, she wanted more of it.

She found the spanner and made a slight noise of victory, carefully maneuvering her hand back through—

The tap line went taut quite suddenly, and without any fittings keeping it in place, the hot water line suddenly contracted, snagging a jagged edge into her wrist and pinning it to the inner wall of the machine. She could feel the water getting hotter around her wrist, and she tried letting go of the spanner to yank her hand out, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit!”

Suddenly, two huge hands were there, one wrapping around her forearm to still her and the other reaching into the machine without hesitation. The line loosened around her wrist, and she was pulled free immediately. After that, the stranger hit a sequence of buttons to shut down the machine but still didn’t let go of her forearm.

In the fading whine of the machine, Osha’s heartbeat sounded like a stampede in her ears. She could feel the body heat radiating off the man this close. The callouses on his palms spoke of hard work and discipline. His knuckles bore the permanent blush of a fighter’s hands. Carefully, he pulled back her sleeve and hissed softly, revealing the minor burn over the top of her wrist.

“Poor thing.”

Heat flared up Osha’s neck as if she’d swallowed the hot water line instead of basically wearing it. The stranger leads her to the sink and runs the cool tap before parking her wrist beneath the faucet.

Burns weren’t uncommon in the cafe, and little cuts and swollen bruises weren’t uncommon in the attached boxing gym. As such, the first aid kits for both were well-stocked for each common injury. The stranger moved with confident grace to the red box on the wall, leafing through the contents before finding what he wanted: an antiseptic wipe, burn cream, gauze, and medical tape.

“Let me see.”

He took her wrist back in his hands, gentle but firm, just as he’d held her before. On the spots where his skin touched hers, it burned differently.

He kept his head down as he dressed her wound, using his teeth to tear off pieces of tape. He had a serious aura; the goofy guy he’d been now shifted into an intensely focused man. When satisfied with his work, he didn’t let go, using the last few seconds of soft quietude to draw his thumb across the top of the bandage.

“How’s that?” he said, bouncing back to the playful person he wanted her to see.

But Osha had seen that other side, the rock-steady intensity that had come over him the moment she’d been in danger. That version of himself hadn’t left until he knew she was out of harm.

Osha had hardly been able to blink, let alone breathe, during his treatment of her. Something about his light touch made her wonder how he fought. No soft-handed, theatrical fighter would have been capable of aching gentleness like this.

“It’s—good.” She cleared her throat and fought to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. Anyway, it should be less dangerous when it’s off.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t do that,” she muttered, embarrassment taking over from flustered.

“It’s late, and we’re all prone to mistakes in the dark.”

Her eyes snapped to his at the statement. It sounded so familiar that she could have sworn she had heard it before, but the stranger was already moving, pushing his sleeve past his elbow. Time stood still for a fraction of a second, and Osha could see his forearm, all corded muscle, and scars. And then he reached into the espresso machine, carefully pulling out the spanner.

“There. That what you were looking for?”

Osha blinked owlishly before taking the tool from him. It was impossible to avoid brushing her fingers against his, and the spark of his touch ignited something deeper inside her than skin could reach.

“Thank you, uh…”

“Of course!” Dutifully, the stranger returned to his post, and the counter was put back between them as it should have been. But Osha couldn’t understand why she’d been so adamant about it before. Maybe he was right; it’s late, after all. 

The rest of the work was fast, ticking away minutes as she found the culprit: an overenthusiastic portafilter had shifted the group head an inch out of place, which made every piece of fussy machinery within the casing rebel. “Yord, I swear to god…” Osha grumbled, taking a second to write a warning on scrap paper once everything was packed up.

“Ah, a consistent problem, then?” The Stranger had stayed quiet the whole time Osha worked, and only when he spoke up again did she notice he hadn’t pushed his sleeve down. Her eyes snagged on the sight the way her wrist had snagged on the jagged metal inside the machine.

“You could say that. Hey, um, I have to run it a few times to make sure it’s operational. And… thank you for helping me out. Can I make you something?”

His head tilted in such a way that she could finally see the look on his face was a smile. It felt like looking into one of those dichroic prisms, finding a flash of blue here, a flash of red there, but only at one specific angle inside the glass. “Whatever you want to give me, I’d be happy with.”

Ignoring that, she fell into another set of muscle memory. Even tired and irritated from the burn on her wrist, her hands never faltered as she made up a shot on each group. When the machine shouted itself awake, she watched as two twin porcelain espresso cups filled with darkness, noting the flow, the steam output, and the lack of grit in the pour. “Perfect,” she murmured to herself, satisfied with her work.

Osha assembled a drink to-go for him, sliding it over the bar. Unfortunately, muscle memory took over again, and she shouted, “I have a two-shot Americano at the bar for—oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so loud.”

He threw his head back and laughed almost as loud as her barista voice had been. That toothy grin was back, and his hair fell into his eyes when he sat back again. “Thank you, I’m oh my god I’m sorry that was so loud, yes.” Their hands brushed again when she realized she hadn’t let go of the cup yet.

“I know it’s pretty late for caffeine, but it’s the least I could do,” she said, a little bashful. His laugh was nice. His smile was nice. He was nice.

He didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to his lips and take a sip, eyes locked with hers. All at once, her mouth went dry, and her blood sang. The smile evolved into a smirk when he set the coffee down again. “Never too late for me. I hardly sleep.”

“I know what that’s like,” Osha sighed, cleaning and shutting the machine down for the night. “I hope that drink’s okay.”

“It’s my usual.”

“No wonder you can’t sleep if your usual is twice the amount of caffeine normal people have.”

“The power of two is a potent high.” He shrugged.

“That’s a slippery slope to tread, stranger. It took me a while to quit.”

“Are you saying I’m an addict?”

Osha almost blanched at his words until she saw the playful tilt of his head. “I’m saying indulgence is a dangerous path.”

He shrugged. “Semantics.”

With the machine shut down for the night, she started flicking off the lights. The stranger took the hint, edging toward the front door.

When the main lights were off, he stood silhouetted against the storefront, snow swirling darkly around him like a smoky aura. He’d pulled up his hood; it gave him a more menacing outline than she’d thought him capable of. Like this, she couldn’t see the goofy smile or the glasses, the glittering dark eyes. He’d shed all of the attributes that made him approachable and safe.

And still, she was not afraid.

She walked to him, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder by the time he turned. “Thank you, Osha,” he said. The soft light from outside cast his features in sharp planes of shadow, concealing most of his features save his nose, lips, and chin.

“Don’t mention it,” she said softly, feeling trapped in a bubbled moment she didn’t want to leave. She’d reflect on this later; she wouldn’t scorn herself for doing what felt right in the moment.

His lips quirked in a half-smile she couldn’t resist returning. “I’ll see you around.”

And then he left in a blast of swirling snow and cold.

CHAPTER 2

[astranix]

slytherin sirius black × gryffindor james potter

the most non-angsty sirius and regulus running away fic ever coz we don't have enough of those

"This was, without a doubt," Regulus pants, glancing over his shoulder, "the stupidest thing you've ever done! And that's really saying something."

"This was also, without a doubt," Sirius says, glaring, "the best decision of my whole miserable life."

"We're gonna starve, you fucking idiot—!" Regulus says, smacking him on the back of his head. "We have nowhere to go."

Sirius freezes in his steps.

"Uncle Alphard?" he asks. Regulus smacks him again, and Sirius smacks him back.

"We can't go there, Sirius," Regulus says, wincing and rubbing his head. "Mother would know. She must already know, because it's the only place we could possibly go!"

There's silence for a second.

"Right. Lestrange isn't an option, neither is Dolohov," Sirius says, grimly. "Mulciber is a bitch, Avery's too thick to understand. Snape's probably homeless himself. What about you?"

"Barty's parents never leave him alone," Regulus clenches his jaw. "And Rosier would probably not be home. He's been sending me postcards from France."

"Fuck," Sirius scans where they're standing. "Andromeda hasn't talked to you since she ran, has she?"

"You think she'll talk to me before you?" Regulus scoffs. "She hasn't. And we can't live on the fucking streets, you know that."

"We have money," Sirius says.

"Yeah, but we would have to get it exchanged into muggle money, which, one, we don't know shit about. And two, we would have to walk straight into Gringotts. Anybody could see us."

Regulus tugs at his hair, always the one who worries more, always the one who gives up earlier.

"Well," Sirius, hedges, "if we could find an owl, we wouldn't need to go to Diagon Alley."

"Oh yes, of course," Regulus says, snidely. "All our problems are now completely solved! We just need a goddamn owl!"

The muggles walking past them give them strange looks, and Regulus lowers his tone.

"Look, Sirius," he says, fixing him with a determined expression. Sirius already hates where this is going. "You're sixteen, you're going to be out of Grimmauld in a year or two, anyway. And if you move out, I'll move with you. But we—we can't do anything except go back. It's cold. It's going to rain soon. We haven't eaten in a day."

Sirius stares at him, incredulous.

"If this is about your ego," Regulus starts, angrily, "then—"

"No!" Sirius interrupts, hotly. "Are you insane?! This is about our continued existence. She would kill us, if we went back! She's a fucking psycho! She was just about to curse the shit out of you, for no reason, which is literally why we ran—"

"I can take it," Regulus dismisses. "Besides, you ran out, and dragged me along."

Sirius gapes at him, unable to speak more.

"No," Sirius says, firmly, and looks straight at Regulus, because what he says now is what they do, this is final. "We're not going back."

Regulus's shoulders drop, defeated.

"Right," he mutters, and the sudden resignation that settles on his face, bitter and tired, makes Sirius think that sometimes, he's no better than his mother.

They stand silently, for a tense, uncomfortable moment.

Then, "I have an idea," Sirius says, because he does.

And it's a bad, bad one.

Of course, it's also the only one they have.

That, right then, that's when it starts raining.

Regulus scrambles for shade under the shed of the muggle shop closest to them.

Sirius braces himself, and raises his wand.

It's only a moment before the Knight Bus pops, loud and purple and sharply at contrast with the grey evening.

"Godric's Hollow," he says to the conductor, and hands him a handful of sickles. "And two hot chocolates."

They take a seat, and Regulus looks at him with a dubious expression.

"Godric's Hollow?" he pronounces, slowly. Sirius ignores him, grabbing the two mugs that the conductor gives them.

"Why are we going to Godric's Hollow?" Regulus insists, his teeth chattering in the cold. "Sirius? What the hell? We don't know anyone there."

He's right.

Sort of.

Sirius just hands Regulus the hot chocolate, refusing to answer.

"We're going to die," Regulus mumbles, gloomily. "We're really going to die."

"Shut it," Sirius says, and gives the conductor two sickles more for blankets. "You're not."

(-)

Sirius knows which house they have to go to, the moment he sees it.

It's big, bright, there's green grass surrounding it. It looks like one of those pictures in childrens' books, flowers and fences and whatnot.

It's barely drizzling by the time they reach.

Regulus had settled to just watching Sirius do whatever he wants to, but as soon as he starts walking towards the house, Regulus freezes in his tracks.

"I really need some information, right now," he says, quietly, wary eyes on the house. There's something beautiful about the whole scene, brick-red and cosy, and that's even more suspicious, isn't it.

They don't know anybody so warm.

"It's Potter's house," Sirius admits, finally. Regulus startles, whipping around to stare at him, absolutely shocked.

Anybody would be.

"Potter?" he hisses, like he's never heard the name before. "Potter?! What—! Sirius, he hates you! You hate him back! You hate each other!"

"I know," Sirius says, and rings the doorbell.

"Oh my god," Regulus breathes out, disbelieving. "You're mad. You're actually mad. We spent so much of our money to come here, Sirius. And when Potter, for obvious fucking reasons, turns us away, we won't even—"

The front door opens.

Regulus tugs at Sirius's sleeve.

"We can still run, come on, it won't be as embarrassing then," he says, frantic, "Even Alphard would be better than this. We could hide in his dungeon."

"Alphard has a dungeon?" Sirius asks, curiously, just as James Potter steps out.

He looks at them for a second, blankly, blinking behind thin-wired round frames. His hair is a mess, as usual, he's wearing actual pyjamas. And then, a moment later, his brain seems to catch up with him.

"What," James Potter says, bewildered. "What are you doing here—?"

"We need a place to stay," Sirius says, demands. Do the Potters rent out rooms to guests? That would make so much more sense. "For some days."

"Huh?" Potter's expression says that they do not, in fact, own a guest service. "Wha—?"

Sirius sighs, and pulls Regulus with him, again, not away from the house, like they should be going, but towards, and then he—then he just—

He walks inside Potter's house.

Just. Pushes past him, and walks in.

Like he owns it.

Regulus and Potter stare at each other, Regulus is horrified, Potter is confused.

"Thanks," Sirius's voice comes from inside.

"You're welcome," Potter mutters, automatically, before blinking dumbly, again, and going inside.

Regulus, reluctantly, ridiculously, follows him.

(-)

So.

Sirius has now, in a span of 24 hours, cussed out his mother, thrown cutlery at their father's head, forced his way into someone’s home, and clearly, he has no plans to leave.

James Potter is apparently, and bizarrely, completely okay with this.

"My parents won't be home until late evening," he says, uncertainly, in his own home, while Sirius sits on the couch, comfortable as all hell, reading the last edition of Witch Weekly. "We should eat something."

Yes! Regulus's stomach says.

"We can't cook," he says, aloud, apologetically. "We had elves."

"Well, we don't. And I can cook," Potter says, shrugging. "What would you like?"

What the fuck is even going on, Regulus thinks.

"I'll help," he says, instead. Potter just shrugs again.

(-)

"Why?" Regulus asks, as soon as they reach the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. It's not like the kitchen at Grimmauld. It has a muggle stove, and what Regulus is guessing, other muggle... devices.

"Why what?" Potter says, and the slight grin on his face tells Regulus that he knows exactly what he's talking about.

"Why—" Regulus huffs, "why're you doing all this?"

"I'm hungry," Potter says, with an infuriating smirk, as he opens the shelves, takes out a pan and some plates. "And my mum taught me well."

"You know that's not what I'm asking," Regulus says. "Why did you let us in? Why're you letting us—" stay.

If he is, that is.

"Actually you'll find that I did not, in fact, let you in," he replies, setting the pan on the flame and dropping a unnecessary amount of butter. It sizzles and melts, and Regulus can't bring himself to meet Potter's eyes. "That would imply you asked."

"Okay," Regulus huffs. "Why didn't you kick Sirius and me out then?"

Potter's expression flickers a little, and he looks away, absent-mindedly cutting the tomato he's got on the counter.

Regulus waits.

Chop chop chop.

"Well," James says, finally, quietly, eyes on the thin slices of tomato, "you can't quite say no to Sirius Black, can you?"

"You... could have," Regulus narrows his eyes.

Potter just shakes his head. "He's...he's—"

"Oh, god no," Regulus exhales, because no way. "Not you too."

"'Too?'" Potter repeats.

"You like Sirius, don't you?" Regulus asks, scoffing when Potter gives him a wide-eyed expression.

He's so painfully obvious.

Regulus doesn't want to interpret any of this. He goes on, anyway.

"You know he's using you, right?" he asks, quietly.

Chop chop chop chop.

"He doesn't know anything about that, Black," Potter says, eyes firmly on the pan, as he slides the onion and tomato slices off the board.

"Sirius," Regulus says, slowly, "always knows when someone likes him. He always, always knows what anybody feels about him. My brother's a lot of things, but oblivious or delusional he's not."

"Maybe I just don't mind the company, alright?" Potter replies, curt, and Regulus is just about to reply, when a sudden noise comes from outside, the thud of the door.

"James, honey?" says a woman's voice, sounding mildly confused.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BATMAN | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

—

“Long Overdue” (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on an ambush when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action, cursing, past death of a child, Reader & Bruce are divorced, cursing? -angry!reader

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 1k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Okay correction. That “Red Hood guy” actually is a problem. A very big problem - or no - it’s not that Hood is the problem, it's that the situation surrounding him is problematic.

Your voice comes out so faint it’s almost melodic. “Run that by me one more time?”

“Jason’s alive,” Bruce confirms, voice barely above a whisper floating across the recycled air of the Batmobile and to your ears.

You want to grab that whisper and force it back into his mouth with everything you have. How can he even speak when you feel like the air has been sucked from your body? Your mask comes off on your next inhale.

Jason. Your Jason was alive? A fully grown adult even. Jason was alive and he was the Red Hood and Bruce had neglected to tell you until this very moment. Their last big confrontation had happened almost a whole month ago!

“So you mean to tell me that you had almost going on five weeks from the second you found out to tell me my son was alive,” you wave your hands in defeated astonishment before flowing into a shrug, “and just didn’t?”

“It was still ‘need to know’ information. The situation wasn’t yet stable enough to tell you about.”

Slowly, your head bobs up and down.

“Oh okay, yeah sure. I guess I didn’t ‘need to know’ my son was chilling back from the dead less than an hour away from me.” The laugh you let out has too much edge to be truly reassuring. “Course not. Why didn’t I think of that?”

You pose the question at a low volume, running the situation back in your mind. There was no fucking way this man was serious.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Oh really? When? In another month? Or maybe a year from now?”

“If I had to,” his voice is tight.

If he had to?

“Mhm,” your lips purse. “Stop the car-”

“Running away won’t fix anything. If you would just listen-”

Bruce’s voice gets just that much louder so he can talk over you and you respond in kind.

“Oh that’s real rich coming from you-”

“Please don’t do this right now-”

“Do what? Be mad that you lied to me-?”

“I didn’t lie to you. You didn’t even know,” you can hear the way his teeth grind. “Weren’t supposed to know today, but I was forced-”

“Is that supposed to make it better? You’re supposed to be my husband-!”

“You forfeited that a long time ago when you divorced me and issued the papers in public-!”

“Are you really still caught up on that shit? That’s what happens when you keep ignoring the family law attorney-!”

“You barely even gave me a chance after his death-” he grounds out.

“You wanna talk about chances-?”

“Y/n-”

“Stop this goddamn car, Bruce!”

Thunk

The Batmobile is forced to a stop less than half a mile from the Cave entrance.

The emergency brakes are hit hard and work instantly and you’re out of the Batmobile in the next blink, walking around to where Bruce is jumping out the driver’s side. You feel shaky, your whole foundation falling apart. Bruce wasn’t incompetent enough for this to have been a mistake, but there was no way he would be this cruel. Not to you.

You don’t give him room after his feet touch the ground, in his space in an instant. When he doesn’t move to stop you you push him into the side of the vehicle. He skids backward, back making an impact with a decisive thud. The shove sends a horrible zing of pain up your arm that just fuels you more.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your scream echoes in the still night air on such a vacant road, and your throat feels rubbed raw, so you know he heard you, but all he does is frown. It’s tempting to punch that frown, to dig your fist into his solar plexus until he fucking answers you, but with the suit on you know hitting him wouldn’t make him feel half as bad as you do right now.

You couldn’t - you could not - stand arguing with Bruce when he sunk himself into the Bat. It was about as useful as pounding your fists bloody on a brick wall hoping for it to magically turn into a door.

The silence continues to stretch and you can feel your resolve stretching thin.

“Usually you got an answer for everything, but not now?” Your voice comes out low and to your absolute shame your eyes start to burn. You shake your head and step away from him. “What could I possibly have done to deserve this, Bruce?”

Bruce takes in a breath and when he speaks it half sounds like he’s drowning.

“This isn’t about whether you deserved it, it was for your own good. Why can’t you just take my word for it? I needed more confirmation before you could be brought in.”

“You know I can’t accept that,” you let out a sigh. “I’m not one of your lil League friends, Bruce, I don’t think you’re fucking infallible. I know when you're not being one hundred percent with me. And you know what else? I was married to you for seven years, I can tell when you're not being honest with yourself either, so do us both a favor and rip your own head out of your ass.”

You hold your hand up when his mouth opens next, vision blurring.

“Do you know that I ask myself everyday if I was a bad mother, having two of my kids run away from me? I work to re-strengthen my relationship with Dick all the time, but I couldn’t do that with Jay. Couldn’t tell him how sorry I was for letting him die with a continent between us; that it’s the biggest regret of my life.”

Bruce shakes his head and speaks with so much conviction you want to believe him. You always do.

“You were a great mother. The boys were running away from me.”

The chuckle you give is without humor, voice getting thicker with the force of speaking past the lump in your throat.

“As much as I want that to be true, no I wasn’t. Our parenting was a two person job, Bruce, and I was almost never home. So when they had problems with you they didn’t come to me they went in search of new families. I should have been there, but you know as well as I do how this life locks its jaws and doesn’t let go till you die. But this time around it gave back what it took and you chose to keep that to yourself to -what?- to spite me?”

“You can’t believe I would keep him from you for such a trivial reason…”

A few minutes ago you wouldn’t have believed it either.

“No?” You scoff. “So why didn’t you take your briss ass and tell me then? Was I that horrible of a mother that you didn’t think I deserved a second chance too? Is that it, Bruce?”

A strangled choked out noise falls past his lips.

“Never, Y/n. I would never make a decision like this to hurt you. I didn’t tell you because you didn’t deserve to have your heart broken all over again.” He rubs his hands down the exposed half of his face. “I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”

“How much surer can the boy being right fucking in front of you be?”

“I saw Jason before this month.”

You jerk back.

“What?”

Bruce takes off the cowl and for a brief aching second you wish the two of you had been better. He looks as carved open as you feel; nerves and jagged reopened wounds that had never healed right in the first place rotted and exposed to Gotham’s starless sky.

“I saw him, but at the end of the fight when Hush was washed away, do you know who they made me think it was?”

The brimming tears finally overflow when you shake your head, heart pounding in your ears as the two of you's heavy breathing fills the vacant street.

“I was watching my son come back from the dead and then Clayface was in his place. As far as I was concerned Jason was still dead and everything was only a part of the sick game they were playing,” he blinks and his eyes are suddenly glossy, an admittance of defeat all their own. “I know you too. You can’t tell me that if I had brought you in the second I saw Jason that first time that you would’ve been alright after I had to take it back, Y/n. After I told you it was just a trick.”

“That’s not fair,” you shake your head. You glare at him, voice wet, and sniffle as you snap your hand up to rub your tears away. “You had no right to make that decision for me.”

“And yet I wanted to spare you that pain anyway.”

You stare at each other. A defeated slump to Bruce’s shoulders and his usual shuddered eyes so so open for you. If only that was enough.

Your breath stutters as you inhale. Mouth pressed into a wonky frown and throat tight and raw, you speak.

“You make it so hard to love you, you know that?”

He closes his eyes, painregretremorse flashing across his face, before going stock still. A brace for a hit that you will give no quarter to him by making physical.

You think of Jason, of him insisting on helping you with your hair during wash days, reading in the library together and conveniently leaving a pocket knife on the counter so he’d stop hoarding the ones from the kitchen, of arguing with Bruce over putting him in that damn costume, and your heart riots.

“I’m done, Bruce. I…cannot keep doing this after tonight. I thought I could trust you, but now I don’t know what to make of you after this.”

He nods at your proclamation, eyes locked onto yours. You let him have it for a few beats, watching him back. A man flayed open so many times it was inevitable he’d drag you down with him. You’d signed up for it the first time you’d said your vows, but you could never have predicted the ways it would shake you apart.

“I’m walking the rest of the way,” your hushed voice informs. He makes a sound in the affirmative, you turn and leave.

Nearly fifteen years of your life you have known, loved, and let yourself be consumed by Bruce. Five of those years you haven’t even been together; had as minimal contact as possible. Still he’s always done this to you and you to him.

Cracked yourselves open on one another.

It’s anticlimactic almost, how all you have to show for all this strife is a pounding arm and sore throat.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! Comments would be appreciated if you wanted to leave one! I read all of them, I only don’t respond cause this is a side blog.

Also somewhere deep down Bruce knows that the even realer reason he didn’t tell Reader is because he was hoping to have fixed things with Jason (make him see “sense”) before giving her the happy news so they could be a family again. But you didn’t hear that from me. Additionally, I tried to make this seem like a decision Bruce would actually convince himself to make but I have no clue if I succeeded. I know I was excited when I came up with it though.

—

Caribbean word of the day(i.e.,the glossary): “Briss” - to be nosey or intrusive.

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the word in this glossary is not used by every caribbean*

[shadowcatzone]

(the au in which only the high elder of the vidyadhara can get one child in each reincarnation)

-imbibitor lunae being too good to have kids (kids are for losers and distract you from your job uwu) until dan feng who in the beginning thought thought the same before meeting yingxing

Dan feng: fertilize my eggs please.

Yingxing: what

Dan feng: what

-xingyue child having a long list of health concerns from birth. Bc they're born a little early. Some aren't actually health concerns but dan feng overreacting

Dan feng: they squeeze their eyes shut when i feed them a lemon! That's not supposed to happen!!

Yingxing: ...why are you giving them lemons??

Dan feng: for their vitamin c deficiency?? Why else would they be so pale???

Yingxing: ...they were born two days ago. Of course they're pale, just take them outside twice.

Dan feng: but they'll die from the light exposure and also whatever the xianzhou put into their air to keep it clean!!!

Yingxing: ...love.

-I need the cut higher bc tumblr is a slut again-

-this means in modern times, xingyue child has a long list with things that aren't actually an issue anymore. Still in dan fengs handwriting.

Bailu: oh you're allergic to lemons?

Xingyue child: not really, no

Bailu: okay... but, you easily get sunburned?

Xingyue child: no, not that either.

Bailu: so... do you have breathing problems?

Xingyue child: yes actually i do have those.

-xingyue child not forgetting prior lives (which will eventually become an issue.) (There are also vidyadhara that forget MORE often, so there should be some that forget LESS often, right?) Meaning they spend 100 years at most in the egg as their body regenerates. They remember everything down to 'melting' in the egg.

Xingyue child: do you know what melting feels like?

Dan heng: no...? ...Do you?

Xingyue child: yeah. It's pretty fucked up and very painful, pray you never remember.

Dan heng: ??????

-it's getting a little dark past this point-

-xingyue child having been forced into a war/conflict (the idea is that there was a non-canon small scuffle between the zhuming and another party. No longer than one or two weeks.) In this life which gave them ptsd as a child (child soldier??) They were supposed to learn, lets just say craftsmanship as a broader term. Ardens regia was the one to throw them into said conflict.

-ardens regia also being the one to tell one or more of their kid/s to watch over xingyue child. But xingyue child still almost dies on multiple occasions.

-xingyue child returning from battle with multiple wounds, fractures and the like. They're getting heavy painkillers and none of the bones properly get fixed. They end up smoking something for the pains, can't feel anything.

-they also have glass jars with their bones, from their ribs, their arms and their teeth. Takes them out as a "party highlight" (they don't like or have parties) literally threw the glasses into yanqings lap when he visited them once. It was a traumatic experience for yanqing, then for jing yuan who yanqing told it to, then for renheng and bailu, who heard it from the general.

Xingyue child: wanna see my bones?

Yanqing: ...your what?

Xingyue child, throwing a glass jar into his lap: MA BOOONES, those are rib bones, oh, these are from my left hand, these are from my right- oh look, the field doctor even gave me the small piece of my lung back!

-they're dead afraid of jingliu (a post i made a while back) and will not be normal about it, even if jingliu doesn't remember OR didn't mean it

Jingliu: *trying to grab them as they try to walk away from the seat of divine foresight* aren't you-

Xingyue child, jumping back, hiding behind jing yuan: DO NOT! TOUCH! THE BLACKSMITH!! DON'T TOUCH! DON'T FIGHT! DON'T BOTHER!

Jing yuan:

Jingliu:

-the artisanship commission being very loyal to their blacksmiths. You fight one of them? Now the order of you and anyone who has any kind of contact to you will be delayed, indefinitely.

Master blacksmith (that one guy, i think): oh they fought and hurt xingyue child, one of our blacksmiths? That's it guys! Put down everything connected to the cloud knights!

-the blacksmiths can and will close down the forges. And the senior cloud knights know better than to pick a fight with a blacksmith.

-xingyue childs muscles being anything but torn and they're basically doing everything with bone strength alone. They don't realise bc too many painkillers. They. Dont. Feel. A. Thing.

-also meaning the first time they're off painkillers after anyone decided to fix their bones, they can't work. For months. They insist. Doctor says try it, be my guest. They try to pick up blades sword- their thumb hurts in this position, but its fine - try to lift it and their arm feels like. Searing pain. Nothing ripped (luckily) but yeah. Not gonna work for a while.

[cartoon-buffoon]

(Uh just in case) TW: Suicide & Guns

Problem with drawing this was HET's posing since it's supposed to be him reaching over Oswald to grab the gun, now this would be fine if not for both characters obviously having black bodies so you can see I kinda went crazy with the white outlines. Also for the hole on the side of Euthenasia's head: it annoys me how in WI the gun misfires and it blows out his eye, the problem is at that angle it has NO SHOT (heh, shot) of hitting his eye so I always imagined it just went in through his skull and ricocheted out his socket

Oh and here's a short little story/exchange between the two that's related to this drawing for my AU of HET & Euthenasia if you care and wanna read it that is ↓ (warning: lots of vulgarity & of course suicide being the main focus)

Euthenasia trembled and stared down the skull faced feline who had a firm grip on his gun "let it go Felix, I can't miss again" he exclaimed, finger still on the trigger "there's only one bullet left in the chamber"

Het ignored the buck's commands and spoke calmly in his raspy voice "Oz, put the gun down before you hurt yourself"

"haha! No shit Sherlock! That's the FUCKING point!" Euthenasia grit his teeth and clicked the hammer back "GET LOST AND LET ME DO THIS!"

Het tightened his grasp on the gun, ready to divert the barrel elsewhere if Euthenasia tried anything "listen, you unloaded 5 bullets into my skull!" He tapped the side of his head and pointed at the cracks the rabbit gave him "now I don't care really, I've been hurt far worse than some silly little bullets, but if you miss your shot you're gonna blow out your other eye, now put it down because I really don't wanna wear a vest reading 'seeing eye cat' for the rest of my fucking life"

"I won't miss if you just let go!"

"If I gotta live in this shit hole so do you! I know life ain't fair yet you just can't fuck off and die because of it!" Het hissed.

"oh you're a comedian now! Ain'tcha!? A real funny man! Because I find it so funny you constantly say I would be better off dead, but here you are! The one trying to stop me!" Euthenasia used his other hand to wave it in Het's face "the walking contradiction! Which is it now? Huh? Should I pull the trigger or not!?"

"...." Het stayed silent, his skull showing no emotion other than a permanent smile plastered onto it.

"oh! Does the kitty cat not have a smartass remark this time around!?" Euthenasia took a step closer to the cat his hand holding the gun making the entire thing shake like a blender "what's next from the hypocrite? Why don't you start to babble on your psychopathic bullshit hmm? See if that'll convince me not to do it! Heck maybe if you're lucky instead of dying I'll start seeing things from your fucked up point of view! I bet you'd like that, huh?"

If Het could scowl, this would be the moment he would of "Alright prick, stop attacking me and focus on yourself" Het spun Euthanasia around and made him gaze at his own reflection "Look in the mirror for a second...do you think Ortensia would wanna see you like this?"

Oswald glared up at the cat who was still holding the barrel of his gun and being the one thing stopping him. Slowly lowering his gaze his eyes fell onto the mirror in front of him. The dim light in the room obscured most of the surroundings yet he could still see his clear as day his broken visage. Gun pressed to his head, mouth stuck in a crooked smirk, eye spasming out and twitching, even his empty socket was leaking a trail of bloody tears that stained his white fur. Instead of his own appearance being the thing that snapped him out of it, it wasn't—rather the image of Het's face. Several cracks running across the feline's skull caused by bullets bouncing off it was what made Euthenasia snap out of his rage induced haze and finally come to his senses.

Euthenasia's grip slowly faltered on the gun as his eye was fixed on the mirror "oh god..."

"well looks like me being a pain your ass actually helped for once, ain't that neat?" Once Euthenasia let go, Het released the firearm and let it clatter to the ground "heh, you know it's bad when I'm the voice of reason here"

Euthenasia turned around and faced Het, seeing what he did even more clearly "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry"

"what for?" Het noticed the buck staring at the cracks across his skull "oh yeah, well that's what bullets do after all, I'm just thankful I'm such a hardhead otherwise they would of probably done a lot worse" Het knocked on his dome trying to lighten the mood

Euthenasia didn't say a word and wrapped his arms around Het and brought him into a hug. Het tensed up at the touch although after hearing some quiet sobs come from the rabbit he slowly leaned into it. The cat was unsure on what to do with his hands, apart of him wanted to hug back yet everything else told him otherwise, eventually he just rested his arms to the side and let out a sigh.

"a thank you would of worked just as fine"

Oswald remained quiet and tightened the hug, still choking down sobs.

"... Your welcome, Ozzie... you're welcome"

[quicktosimp]

I'll Give You the World

Kinktober Day 28 Lyle Wainfleet

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Praise, P in V Sex, Fingering, Cunnilingus

A/N: This is for you bby @loaksxhoe 😘

Dividers are by @plutism

Thank you @pandoraslxna for this event

It started off innocently enough. I was working in an abandoned file room back from the previous war, shifting through records with Corporal Wainfleet, trying to make sense of the war-torn chaos.

“What did they do here? Throw every piece of paper in the building like confetti?” I groan, grinding my teeth.

“I think they also had a party, would explain the footprints,” Waving a rumpled and dirty footprint on the stark white paper. 

Finishing with the current box I was organizing, I took it to the proper shelf to file it away, but even in an 8-foot-tall body, I still could not reach the top shelf where it was meant to go. Previously, machines would grab the box and file it properly, everything in perfect order, but those machines haven’t worked in 15 years. I struggle, trying to put the box on the top shelf before warmth covers my back. Corporal Wainfleet grabs the box, his chest resting in mine, caging me against the tall shelves.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you,” His 9’3 tall ass places the box without problem.

“Oh-um-yeah, th-thank you,” I stutter out.

“Anytime,” with that, he backs off back to our workstation.

The second time it happened, it was somber.

“I still don’t know why we’re still stuck here,” Corporal Wainfleet grumbled.

Two months later, we were still being punished, forced to work in this tiny office whenever we weren't in the field.

“I lost a kid, and you tried to kill one,” I muttered, organizing paper tower number 3.

“I didn’t know or was a damn kid!” He shouted.

I rolled my eyes at him, “It was Sully’s kid. He would have been 16 at most, more likely 14 or 15. You nearly killed the kid,” I place this paper in box number 32.

“He’s fine, ain’t he?” Wainfleet retorted.

“If you count taken hostage and in a medical-induced coma because I couldn’t stop the bleeding enough, then sure, he’s fine,” I grumble, placing this paper in box number 65.

He hisses as his ears pin back and tail swishes aggravatedly, the guilt eating at him, “You fucked up too. That's why we're both here,”

I raised my eyebrow at him, “I fucked up because I lost Spider while giving medical attention to the Sully boy. I fucked up fixing your fuck up.” I stood up, grabbed a box to put away, done with the conversation.

“Do you think it would have been better if he died?” His voice was somber.

Facing him, I see the sadness in his eyes. I lean back against the shelf, “I ask myself that every day because I made him a prisoner of the RDA.” tears slip out of my eyes. “I don’t regret fighting, making a home for humans, but that’s a child,” 

The corporal’s arms wrapped around me, his tail inching towards mine.

“I know he’s a kid, but he still had that gun and was aiming to kill,” He tried to console.

“No, he wasn’t. He was covering the others. That’s how they escaped.” I lean in closer to him, accepting his warmth.

He sighs sadly, “It's war, Darling. Things happen in war,” he tucks my head under his chin.

“I don’t give a shit about war, not when kids are forced to fight it,” my body shakes with sobs, not letting the sound leave my mouth.

“Shh, it’ll be alright, baby girl. Please don’t cry; your pretty face wasn’t made for tears,” his large hand cradled my head, helping me feel secure.

The third time was the most noticeable.

“Alright, when are you two gonna start fucking?” Lopez teased.

“Oh please, they’ve already been fucking for months now, all huddled up in the office alone,” Fike mocked, making kissing noises.

“Damn! (Y/N), you better be using protection,” ZDog chimed in, nudging my ribs.

“I wished I could say that you all came back wrong, but none of you were right in the head to begin with,” I snarked, rolling my eyes.

“Awe, don’t be like that. Lyle, come deal with your girl. You gotta help deal with her tension.” Fike commented, perching on a table away from me.

“Not her fault, you’re all idiots,” He remarks, not looking away from his coffee, “It’s too early for this shit.” With that, he shuffled away, stopping next to me, “You’re very pretty this morning,” he kissed the top of my head before returning to his room.

The lot of us all stood there shocked. You could hear a pin drop. The rest processed what they saw, and the room erupted in noise.

“Fuck, you taste so good for me,” Lyle moans as he breaks away from my slit, slick dripping down his face.

“Fuck Lyle, more! “ I demand, grinding myself onto his mouth. 

“Easy, sweetheart, you gotta learn some patience.” Lyle chuckles as he digs his tongue back into my slit.

“Yes! Just like that, feels so fucking good,” I moan.

Lyle’s fingers had been playing with my slit, easing me open, as his tongue licked inside. The tendrils inside me came out to play with his tongue, attempting to peek out of my slit, wrapping around his large tongue. Slowly, he pushes two of his fingers deep into me, stretching me deeper. 

“Fuck baby, you always take my fingers so well.” He hisses before slurping the slick that leaked out of me. 

“Shit, yes.” I pull his head closer to my slit.

Instead of his tongue, I felt Lyle nip at the edges of my slit. I gasp at stinging pain, causing my slit to tighten around his fingers as my core fills with heat. He used his tongue to soothe the affected area as he continued to kiss around my navel. 

Finally, he curled his fingers inside, bringing me intense pleasure. The tendrils inside me are as sensitive as my clit was on my previous body. And Lyle knew how to play them, how to curl his fingers, the perfect way to twist and wiggle them, fucking my slit perfectly.

“This what you like, pretty girl?” Lyle asks as he adds another finger, “My baby girl is always so good and ready for me. I didn’t even have to ask you to come here; I just walked in, and you were ready. My princess, so eager to be a good girl and cum around me. You ready for me to fuck you?” He whispers into my slit.

“Please! Please, Lyle! I want you,” I beg, the heat in my core becoming unbearable.

Lyle removes his fingers, causing me to whine, “I know, Princess, you gotta let me give you the best part.” He chuckles, lining himself up with my slit. 

Slowly he pushed in, my slit eagerly spreading for him. His spines played with my tendrils, grinding against each other in a sensual dance.

“Oh fuck, baby girl, so fucking tight on my cock, wrapping around me like a sleeve. So fucking perfect for me,” Lyle moans as he slips more of his length inside me. 

“You so fucking deep! The spines feel so good; they’re rubbing me. They feel so good, please, Lyle!” I ramble on, not sure what I am asking for. 

Next thing I know, Lyle’s lips are on mine, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. I play with his tongue, tasting myself on his tongue as he explores each other's mouths. I feel our bodies wrap meld together, the spine son his cock melding with my tendrils as we lock together, grinding out hips to bring more pleasure as we have less room to move. My cervix was creeping closer to his tapered cock, my own body begging for a full lock.

“Good girl.” Lyle rolls his hips harshly, “Your gonna cum on my cock aren’t you, baby?” We can no longer separate, as he drags my body wherever he goes, locked by our sexes. 

The pull in my slit as he moves is intoxicating. It leaves a bruising feel as our intertwined bodies refuse to let go. The burning in my loins grew with each grind. 

“Such a good fucking girl from me. Can’t wait to fill you with my cum.” Lyle exclaims breathlessly. 

I mewl in response, wanting his cum inside me as his tip bumps against my cervix. Our slits meld together, leaving no space between us as his cock pierced my cervix. I scream as he slides in deeper, his own tendrils wrapping around my own, sealing our bodies together wholly. Not a space left between us as we came. Every wave of pleasure was in sync as I felt Lyle fill me with his cum.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Lyle!” I whine as pleasure rolls through me.

“Oh fuck, I’m right here, baby girl. You’re doing so good for me. I feel so fucking good filling you with my cum. You never waste a drop.” Lyle groans, rocking us. 

“Love your cum,” I moan as I come down from my high.

“I know you do, baby,” He chuckles, moving us to lay comfortably. 

I look up at him wide-eyed, “Will you give me more after?” I ask sweetly.

I see his eyes dilate as Lyle licks his lips, “Of course, baby, I’ll give you everything you want.”

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @winterandwords to uh... talk about a WIP I guess? :D

I'll pass on this tag toooo... @starlit-hopes-and-dreams (as always <3) but I'm not sure who else, so if you feel like talking about a WIP, consider this an open tag.

Oh boy, which to pick. There are currently only 2 projects where the P in WIP actually stands for "progress" (for the others it stands for "procrastination".)

I think I'm gonna pick Till Death. It is the one I am currently obsessed with, and the only one I am writing, not editing.

Here's the blurb:

Finnian is a wandering healer down on his luck. When one of his patients dies, the village turns against him, beating him half to death and leaving him for thirst and scavengers to finish what they started.

Eilis lives deep in the forest, hiding from the world. When she finds him, impaled on a tree and barely alive, she can‘t leave him to his fate, even if it means upending the peaceful life she has built for herself.

As Finnian slowly recovers, days filled with quiet companionship make the prospect of him staying less daunting than either of them had expected. But he carries too many scars, and Eilis too many secrets, threatening to destroy their fragile relationship as the shadows of the past draw closer. When everything falls apart, will they save each other, or will the price be too high?

You see, in April I finished the last chapter of all my ongoing stories, which left me in a very weird mood. For 1,5 years I always had something to work on, and suddenly, there was nothing started. Sure, I had a few outlines, but nothing really called to me, with the added problem that for those, I have to figure out bullshit like politics. I needed something new. New chars I didn't know yet, a fresh story - and 🌟violence🌟 :)

I've been talking about wanting more gore with happy end, but sadly, existing OCs are so fragile, I can't even break all their bones without them dying 🙄 So it was time to fuck up another healer.

For a few weeks, I threw concepts against a wall like cooked spaghetti, grabbed whatever stuck, and then I just started. It's the first time in a year that I actually write a story without posting as I go. I can leave a little note "this sounds weird, fix later" or remember "shit, I forgot this injury" or change a name halfway in. I know. That's how a draft is supposed to work 😅

I'm at over 60k words, and it's looking good. There's a few 'first times' for me, a lot of things I love and a lot of things I am excited about. I have a rough outline of events still to happen that leaves me enough freedom to go wild. And wild I go; half of the scenes are gratuitous pain and suffering, and there will be more - but it's also a story of love and finding a place to belong. Which brings me to the next point:

I'm tired. Tired of feeling like I don't belong anywhere. Of having no genre and being "just whump" because it fits nowhere else. Of being "not enough whump" while still finding myself on every squick list.

So this one's written for a target audience of some very close friends - a target audience for which I don't have to write CWs at the top of each chapter, a target audience who doesn't grow bored at the first calm moment, a target audience who will call me a bitch while asking for more pain.

I love you, pocket friends 💜

Here's the start of the book (unedited, rip):

Finnian hated dealing with sick people.

Considering the fact that he earned his money with healing, that was rather unfortunate. If he didn’t want to starve to death, he had to grit his teeth and ignore the stench of sweat and blood while taking care of coughs and aches and fever.

Sometimes, he wished he had learned something else after it had become clear that this wasn’t the right profession for him. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, explaining to a grown ass woman that when he had told her to keep the wound clean, that included keeping the bandages away from dirty water. And that yes, it fucking hurt, because now it was infected, and if she didn’t plan on losing a finger or two, she’d better keep her hand dry and clean this time. And that perhaps, just perhaps, that was a bit more important than cleaning the windows.

Unfortunately, he had not learned anything else, so he left the house half an hour later with barely enough coins in his pocket to make up for the supplies he had used. Most roots and herbs he could gather himself, but bandages and tinctures didn’t grow on trees.

[oldfangirl81]

Brightside, Chapter 1

Fandom: Teen Wolf, 9-1-1: Lone Star

Rating: Mature but don't go beyond canon violence

Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Summary: One week before Iris goes missing Carlos is assigned a new partner that is a transfer from California. He is a bit of an odd one.

(this will also become a fix it for S4 finale)

Notes: Spoilers for S4 of Lone Star and Teen Wolf Movie in only that Eli Hale exists. I decided Carlos should have some different back-up. And another character to vent my annoyance about Detective Grier through. Derek and Stiles are pre-slash for a while, it is complicated. Stiles knows Eli exists but hasn’t met him, only talked on the phone. And I like magical overpowered Stiles so keep that in mind. Gabriel Reyes was a human born into a pack, he gets tapped by the Texas Rangers when there are supernatural cases. In my world pink wolfsbane is a bit like poison ivy to wolves, irritation and rash causing.

Inspiration: Brightside by Halestorm

Fake a smile, And self-destruct, Count it down, Four, three, two, one, I'm over it, All the bullshit, And this fucked up world, I'm living in, Where everything, I'm choking on, Is supposed to help, And keep me hanging on, Yeah, ain't it fun, So enjoy the ride, 'Cause life's a bitch and then you die

So I keep looking, On the bright side of life, 'Cause it only gets darker, We all need something to keep believing, So I keep looking, On the bright side of life

~

Stiles frowned as he was about to brush his teeth for bed. The protection spell on his new partner Officer Reyes was triggered, it indicated a head injury that could have been fatal without him having tipped the balance. What in the world was the other man up to. He should be at home snuggled up with that hot paramedic fiance of his. Then Stiles sighed realizing that maybe Carlos Reyes was a little less by the book than he’d originally thought. If someone thought a person he cared about was lying Stiles would be investigating in his off time. Stiles was just glad he hadn’t got in pjs yet as he grabbed his keys to go rescue Carlos.

It didn’t take Stiles long for him to arrive at the neighborhood they’d found Iris earlier. Closing his eyes focusing on narrowing down Carlos location. Stiles shouldn’t have been surprised it was the house that looked pretty and perfect. Those houses always did seem to hide the worst sins inside. Knocking on the door Stiles could sense two life signs in the house currently. After a moment he heard steps towards the door and an older woman opened the door. Her eyes widened upon spotting the man’s police uniform.

“Hello, Officer. It is very late. What seems to be the problem? I was just about to go to bed.” The woman was trying to appear calm but Stiles could clearly see signs of anxiety.

“You have two choices, hard or easy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure you do. Easy means you quietly let me arrest you and allow me to give aide to my partner. Then we all three wait patiently for the rest of APD to come arrest you and…” Stiles paused for a moment glancing at a picture on the wall behind her. “your son for all your dirty deeds, finally get some justice for his many victims. Or I can do it hard way. You won’t like that.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t have a warrant.” She swallowed hard not letting this young officer trick her into harming her son.

“See, I don’t need one when an officer is in distress. You took my partner. Both his fiance and I would like him back without further harm. NOW.” Stiles channeled a bit of Sourwolf’s attitude as he stepped into her physical space cause her to back up. Slamming the door behind Stiles threw up perimeter wards so that the killer couldn’t sneak up on him.

“Get out of my house! You are going to upset Darryl.” She tried to open the door to push Stiles back out.

“Oh? That would make my day. I love upsetting killers who target weaker members of society for their prey.”

She tried to physical attack Stiles head on in desperation. It didn’t take him long to slap restraints that had been made with mountain ash just in case.

“That was very dumb.” Stiles pushed her to walk into the kitchen where he felt Carlos showing signs of coming back to consciousness. “What is your name?”

“Trudie. You are very rude.”

“Oh no, a serial killer’s mother thinks I’m rude. My fragile self-esteem will never recover.” Stiles pushed her into a chair and used a bit of magic to keep her stuck there until he released it. Now he felt more comfortable focusing on Carlos who was starting to groan in pain. “Oh good the dumbass who didn’t think to get back up in the form of his partner is alive.”

“Stilinski?” Carlos tried to figure out what was happening. Last he remembered was discovering the tunnel that the person who abducted Iris could have escaped through. “My head is killing me.”

“That is to be expected since Old Mrs Bateman hit you in the head with a shovel at least once before dragging you into the kitchen. I’m not sure how many times she probably knocked your head into the wall too.” Stiles looked over at the woman who didn’t say anything but she was crying silently. Stiles touched Carlos using a bit of magic to heal Carlos enough so that his pain would be less but not enough to raise suspicion of not being injured enough. “I really don’t want to get assigned a new partner. I might not like them as much as you. So in the future...CALL ME FOR BACK UP BEFORE GOING INTO A POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS SITUATION!”

“Uh, sorry?” Carlos was unsure how to react. He didn’t think his new partner liked him much. Stilinski talked a lot but rarely actually said something. And Stilinski was either extremely professional or a sarcastic shit to everyone. Almost everyone. Carlos did over hear a phone call on their first shift where Stiles was genuinely nice to who ever was on the other end.

“Yeah, not good enough. But I’ll let your fiance really lecture you on not risking your life when there is help available.” Stiles grabbed his knife slicing the restraints from Carlos hands and feet. “Stay put because I don’t know what other damage she did.”

“Is she the one who abducted Iris?” Carlos now remembered why he acted so brashly in the first place.

“No, she is just mommy dearest to the killer. And like a good mom she was cleaning up his mess by doing away with you.” Stiles sighed. “I’m calling it in because we’ll need both locations searched because we don’t know how long he has been active. And we know there is at least one body in this house.”

“W-what?” Trudie gasped. She was certain the pantry door was closed at the moment. But that was exactly where the other cop walked over too and opened it. Darryl’s latest victim fell out with a soft thud.

“It is over, lady. I’d stay quiet until you talk to a lawyer at this point if you are just going to keep denying reality. You shouldn’t have fucked with my partner.”

“How rude!”

“Fuck off. You covered up numerous murders and attacked my partner. I don’t give a flying fuck about how my language upsets you.” Stiles glared at her before calling Ranger Reyes directly. “Gabriel, we have a problem.”

Carlos eyebrows climbed up as heard his father’s voice over the phone. How the hell did his new partner know his dad enough to have number programmed into the phone.

“Dad and you can now complain next time about your kids not getting back up and getting abducted.” Stiles held the phone away from his ear as Gabriel yelled.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY SON WAS ABDUCTED!?! HE WASN’T EVEN ON SHIFT TONIGHT!”

“Dude, would I be calling you so casual if he was still in danger? He has a bit of a head injury that might need stitches but I got here before worse happened. On the positive side he did break a serial killer case that APD was dismissing because of the victims. If you can notify the officials channels and send paramedics too. The killer is Darryl Jones. His mother Trudie Jones is the one who abducted Carlos because he was dumb enough to explore a crime scene after hours without backup.”

Carlos cringed at Stiles glared at him while tattling to his dad. It was a good thing he was to old to be grounded.

“Yeah, I’ll call his man. I haven’t yelled much. Figured TK deserves that privilege.” Stiles nodded at something Carlos couldn’t hear before hanging up.

“You know my Dad?” Carlos wonders if he woke up in another reality. Stilinski hadn’t mentioned at all this week knowing Gabriel Reyes.

“Long story I can tell you later when we don’t have an audience. Now what is TK’s number?”

“Who is TK?” asked Trudie sniffling.

“His paramedic fiance.”

“Oh weddings are lovely. I’m sure she is beautiful.”

“TK is a guy. But is hot.” Stiles shrugged at the glare Carlos gave him.

“Oh I do love The Gays.”

Stiles blinked before just shaking his head staring at Carlos who rattled off the number.

“Hello?” The phone had only rang twice before TK picked up.

“TK? This is Officer Stilinski.”

“Oh god. What happened to Carlos? He was supposed to be off already.” It was clearly TK was going through worst case scenarios. It made Stiles want to kick Carlos in the shin hearing the worry but the man was injured enough.

“Deep breath, TK. Your fiance is a certified dumbass but he’ll be okay. I’m just not sure what time he’ll be getting home. It depends how long it takes the Rangers and APD to clear us from the scene. He is injured but not to serious, he might need some stitches.”

“WHAT?! Can I talk to him?” TK was throwing on shoes and grabbing keys planning to head out once he knew where to go.

“He was hit in the head with a shovel at least once. Officer Reyes decided it would be a good idea to investigate where Iris Blake was found without backup.” Stiles handed over the phone to Carlos.

“Babe?”

“Hey TK, look I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Carlos, I was upset but I also shouldn’t have gone to see Iris without talking to you first. But Babe, how did you get hurt? And I’m coming to you.”

“TK, no, you don’t need too. I’m not that hurt. And Officer Stilinski is watching me closely until everyone else arrives. He called my Dad.”

“He knows your Dad?”

“I know Owen too.” Stiles commented looking up from examining a cupboard that was making Trudie very anxious. He frowned sensing something with his magic before turning to the older woman. “Seriously? You seriously let your son store his serial killing trophies in your kitchen? Gross.”

“Carlos, did he just say serial killer? YOU WERE ATTACKED BY A SERIAL KILLER?”

“No, I was attacked by a serial killer’s mother. I guess. I’m not fully sure where a serial killer came into this honestly. I was unconscious for a bit. But I’m serious TK, you don’t need to come all the way over here. Just wait until I know which hospital I’m getting dragged too.”

“Too late, I’m already in the car on my way to you. Are you really okay at the moment?”

“Yeah, I promise. I guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Alright, I love you.”

“Love you too.” Carlos handed the phone back to Stiles. “Do you know everyone in Austin?”

“Nah, I met Owen a long time ago in New York. I haven’t talked to him since I arrived.” Just then Stiles felt someone cross his wards. “Did you call your son earlier?”

Trudie pressed her lips together without saying anything.

“Stilinski, talk to me, what is wrong?” Carlos started trying to move but his balance was slightly off.

“Stay. I have this handled.” Then Stiles eyes got even wider. “Wait. Well fuck. So Carlos what do you know anything about your Dad’s family?”

“Is now really the time to ask me ice breaking questions?”

“I mentioned it for a specific reason. I need to know how freaked out you are going to be if I start throwing magic around.”

“Are you sure that you weren’t the one hit with a shovel?”

“Cute. No. But we have a werewolf attempting to sneak past my wards.”

“Werewolves aren’t real. I don’t see you having any silver weapons.”

“Silver comes from a mistranslated text a long time ago. There was a family who became notorious for killing werewolves, their last name meant silver. However I am going to hand you the gun with wolfsbane bullets. Shoot if he gets to close to you.” Stiles could tell Carlos still thought he was delusional.

Trudie gasped when this cop seemed to know what her son was already. He also seemed more than ready to kill or injure her baby. Trudie tried to make a sound to warn her son but found her voice wouldn’t work. She glared at the cop she had heard called Stilinski.

“Oh fuck you, like I thought for a second you wouldn’t warn your demon spawn the moment you had the chance.” Stiles shifted again sensing the man coming in a back window.

“Stilinski, this is crazy. Werewolves and magic aren’t re-”

A roar was heard as the door flew open there stood a man. But he was a bit more than just a normal human man. He had claws, fangs and glowing blue eyes. Carlos had the safety off the gun before he registered what he was doing.

“Hey, Reyes, this is a positive. He isn’t an alpha werewolf, just a pathetic beta.” Stiles knew those words would cause Darryl to snap further.

With a roar the man launched himself at Stiles who had picked up a cast iron skillet. Even Carlos had to wince at the sound it made connecting to the werewolf’s skull.

“Bad doggy, no treats for you.” Stiles brought the frying pan down two more times for good measure knowing how tough wolves could be.

“What the hell,” Carlos couldn’t but whisper.

“As I said our killer was a werewolf.”

“You killed my boy!” Trudie started sobbing able to speak again now that her son was unconscious.

“He isn’t dead. Just unconscious. He’ll recover unless he attacks again. Then he goes down for good.” Stiles growled, his flashing red briefly.

“Are you a werewolf too?” Carlos couldn’t believe he was seriously concede ring that werewolves were real.

“Nope. I’m a Spark.”

Trudie gasped in horror. Oh no, what had she done. Her father always taught her to avoid Sparks but especially avoid angering Sparks.

“What’s a spark?” Carlos asked glancing over at the woman and then Stilinski.

“I am.” Stiles smirked but then his phone rang. Cursing softly he answered the call. “Hey Derek, what’s up?”

“Really?” Derek’s sigh was loud. “Are you okay? I felt you tap into the pack bond a minute ago but it felt more annoyance than fear or anger.”

“I’m fine, Derek. I guess I just wanted a little reassurance when I took down a beta with a frying pan.”

“Are you turning into Flynn Ryder?”

“Derek, serious question but when did you watch Tangled? And why didn’t you watch it with me?”

“Eli made me watch it a couple of years ago. And I didn’t know I was supposed to not watch any movies without you.”

Stiles pouted for a moment before hearing sirens coming closer. “Look, I gotta go. The situation isn’t a code red any longer. I’ll call you later to fill you in, okay?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“No, you can wait to fill us in when we get to Austin.”

Stiles paled looking more than a bit panicked at that. “What do you mean when ‘we’ get to Austin? Why are you coming to Austin and who is ‘we’?”

“I’ll talk with you in the morning, Stiles. Goodnight.”

“Don’t you. Goddammit he hung up on me. I am sprinkling pink wolfsbane in his underwear drawer.” Stiles made a note in his phone.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Carlos asked waiting for the sirens to finally reach them. “He sounded worried.”

“Not my boyfriend.” Stiles sighs frowning trying to figure out why Derek would come to Austin and who would he bring with him. “It is a very complicated thing.”

“Carlos? Stiles?” Gabriel came running in through the open door with his gun drawn.

“Hey Gabe, you are going to need to take charge of the scene right away. We have a serial killing wolf whose human mother helped cover up his decades long crimes. She is the one who abducted Carlos.”

Gabe paused glancing down at the unconscious killer before giving his son a once over for any serious injuries. He had never really wanted Carlos to become involved in the violent side of the supernatural world. Carlos only ever really had interacted with the mystical side of the Reyes family. Granted Carlos didn’t know they were actual mystical and not just strangely superstitious.

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey Carlitos, I am sure you have questions. I’m sorry this is how you found out about the full spectrum of my job. I never wanted this for you.” Gabriel secured Darryl with werewolf proof cuffs.

“THAT IS MY FIANCE IN THERE AND I AM A PARAMEDIC. I KNOW HE IS INJURED NOW LET ME PAST!” An impressive growl from a human could be heard.

Stiles stuck his out to where the patrol officer was trying to get TK to leave. “Let him in. I don’t know where the ambulance is but he can examine Officer Reyes while we wait. The scene is safe currently.”

TK rushed into the kitchen falling to his knees by Carlos seeing the blood still flowing from the cut on his forehead. “Babe?”

“Hey TK, it really isn’t that bad. You know head injuries look worse than it is.”

Stiles snorted knowing how much worse it could have been without his added protection. He stepped back to fill Gabriel in on what he had discovered since the initial phone call. Now earlier in the day Stiles had not had the pleasure of meeting Detective Grier by a quirk of chance. But her luck had just ended as she walked into the room.

“Oh hell no.” Stiles hauled off and punched her, the nose breaking satisfyingly under his fist.

“WHAT THE HELL OFFICER STILINSKI?” yelled both Carlos and TK.

Trying to stop her nose from bleeding. “Lovely to see you again, Stiles. How is your pup these days?”

“Fuck you. What are you doing working in Austin? The Calveras are not friendly with other hunting families.”

“Stiles?” Gabriel frowned trying to figure out what he missed.

“Her married name is Argent. She is Stefano Argent’s widow and former partner.”

“Detective Grier, is this true?” Gabriel was livid that there was an Argent in Austin that nobody knew about.

“What does it matter to you?” The Detective was frustrated that someone knew her past. She had ignored protocols for entering the terriotory for a reason.

“Maybe because he also thinks a murderous witch like you shouldn’t be on APD?”

“I was protecting people. I followed the code.” She glared at Stiles like he was a cockroach she wished to smash.

“Bullshit. The only Argents that ever followed the code was Alison and Chris. And even that is arguable.”

“We will be talking later, Detective Grier but for now get the hell out of my crime scene and case. I’ll be talking over the serial killer case that you had dismissed.” Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if Grier had taken Iris seriously if his son wouldn’t have to had to pull such a risky move to prove Iris was telling the truth.

“I take it that it would be pointless to try to press charges for assault?” She glared at Stiles.

“Be my guest. I can always go back to bounty hunting.” He crossed his arms not amused. He would call Danny later and have him do a deep dive because why was she in Austin too.

She let out a huff of annoyance and stormed out of the house.

“Did you really have to punch her?” asked Carlos while TK was trying to clean his head wound with the kit he brought with him.

“Oh trust me, she deserves a hell of a lot more. I know of at least one orphan because of her hand.” Stiles looked at cast iron skillet with longing.

“What in the hell is going on?” TK could tell there was a lot going on that he didn’t have enough of the pieces to make a picture with.

“Focus on taking care of Carlos right now, TK. Then later Stiles and I will come over to your house to explain everything.”

“You should ask Owen to come too. He knows some of it.” Stiles said reluctantly. The problem was once Owen knew then Stile’s Dad would also know which department he is attached to now. They hadn’t talked in over a year after their last fight. Any further discussion was put on hold as paramedics had arrived. So had Gabriel’s special team for the forensics and to take the suspects into custody. It was a busy next couple of hours for everyone. Especially since several couldn’t stop their minds from being focus on other things.

TBC

[scaryscarecrows]

“So, Mark, what do you know about deadly poisons?”

Mark sucks his teeth and says, oh-so-sweetly, “Why.”

Antoine knows Mark is in another country–on another continent, even, he’s in South Africa or something–and can’t get to him. He also knows that he’s not the idiot that got poisoned in the first place. That doesn’t stop the thrill of panic, and it inspires him to fix the situation as quickly as possible.

“You’d never guess who’s trying to die on my couch.”

The Knight hisses, maybe in pain or maybe in protest, and grumbles, “M’not trying to die.”

“Don’t distract me, I suck at stitches.”

“You are on the phone–mm–”

“What the fuck is going on?” Mark barks.

“It’s nothing, Jones.”

Mark goes very quiet for about thirty seconds. Antoine takes advantage of this to tie off the thread without everyone yelling at him about something.

“The fuck you’d get into, sir?” he asks softly. The boss just huffs.

“I have pissed off so many people.”

“Copperhead has been involved,” Antoine adds helpfully.

“Snitch–”

“Copperhead?” They both shut up. “What’d she hit you with?”

“I don’t know.”

There’s silence on the other end for two, three minutes.

“Trent would know more than me, about what she uses,” he says at last. “Keep. Keep me posted, okay? I gotta get back to work, I’ll call you when I’m done here.”

Oh, that won’t be a problem. 

“Sure.”

Mark hangs up and Antoine frowns. He has no idea where Trent is right now…but the boss probably does.

“You wouldn’t know where Trent is, would you?”

“Kolkata,” comes the tired reply. “Last I heard he was out in Kolkata…”

Neat. He’s…probably awake, but honestly, he’ll live if he’s not. Antoine will call him in a minute, when he’s done with the worst of the stitches.

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 5, page 34

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[image description: an sac webcomic page. “Anyway, come here,I cant read that far away.” says parker, staring back at lewis and making a ‘come here’ gesture with his finger. “um, okay” lewis responds” “So, your vigilante friend already filled me in, i'm sorry for your loss.” he says now that lewis is sitting next to him on the couch. he’s reaching over with a sly smile, leaning towards lewid with a hand on lewis’s shoulder. lewis is leaning slightly away, his arms wrapped around himself and glaring back at parker. the two of them are at the side of the panel, a large amount of empty space to their right, covered up by some black smoke-looking shadow. “They're not dead- not if I can help it!“ lewis looks up at parker, sneering and baring his fanged teeth, a bit of sadness amongst the anger in his expression. “Oh, and you're going to take on actual murderers with just two kids?” parker says, the panel looking slightly upwards at him, as he’s looking kinda smug. the panel is moodier than the rest. end id]

todays page is brought to you a day late due to dentists. i had a root canal and it didnt take that much out of my physically but i was already tired, in pain, and hungry but couldnt eat because even when i stopped being numb, i was still sensitive to temperature and didnt have any room temperature food to eat, so all that kinda made my productivity bad.

while im on that note, why the fuck is dental stuff not with the rest of the nhs? like yeah, there is nhs dentists but good fucking luck getting in there! why the fuck are teeth not included in the rest of health?? especially because bad teeth can lead to other health problems, and dont fucking get me started on how expensive private dentists are (i have the cheapest one i could find and yet still that appointment cost more than my rent ffs)- and even when you find them good fucking luck actually getting an appointment! you dont want to know how long ive been trying to get my fucked up front tooth fixed! which it is now, nice, so i can smile without worrying, so thats cool.

however i also did get a roll of 500 stickers that say "for rectal use only" and i am not planning on using this power for good >:)

anyway thats enough of me using my comic description for a personal diary

[themculibrary]

Sexual Content Masterlist

After Hours (ao3) - OhCaptainMyCaptain steve/bucky E, 310k

Summary: Steve wishes Bucky wouldn’t look at him the way he does – a deliberate gaze, subtly digging his top teeth into that pouty bottom lip; following his every move like a lion watches a gazelle. It’s been going on for months, perhaps longer... Steve talks, and Bucky listens. Well, that’s the point – Bucky’s supposed to be listening. Steve’s just doing his job, after all… No harm in that.

The problem is that it’s no innocent gesture, the way Bucky will have the top of his pen tracing the outline of his mouth... It’s also not innocent at all when Steve turns to look out at the sea of heads while he’s speaking and catches the quickest glimpse of the brunet sneaking a peek at his ass. And Bucky doesn’t even pretend to be bashful about it. He just meets Steve’s eyes and smirks – just the tiniest hint of a thing.

Even bigger a problem than all that is how absolutely wrong it is. There are a million and one reasons why Bucky’s behavior is inappropriate, and why the way it makes Steve feel is even more inappropriate.

For starters, Steve is Bucky’s teacher.

Secondly, he’s only seventeen.

And If You're Watching, I'll Make it Good for You (ao3) - OhCaptainMyCaptain steve/bucky, bucky/steve/tony E, 5k

Summary: Tony’s almost at the door of his lab when he hears it. It’s low, throaty; just a split second of a thing.

But it’s undoubtedly the sound of Barnes moaning.

Bend Around the Wind (ao3) - Scyllaya loki/tony E, 403k

Summary: A few months after the battle of New York the God Loki appears back on Stark Tower under chaotic circumstances. This time however he is on the run. Tony Stark gets caught up in the crossfire and is taken along with the Aesir. Can the two of them ever make truce in order to get away? And even if they do, how does one escape from such a dark corner of the universe, when they are so very far away from the Nine Realms, that not even Loki knows the way back home. But first, they need to survive.

Deep in the Heart of Me (ao3) - Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar) steve/tony, bucky/clint E, 244k

Summary: Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but love requires real courage. Steve struggles with letting someone into his life. Tony tries to keep his heart intact while Steve works on his issues.

Craving a realistic depiction of a romantic relationship featuring PTSD, mental health issues, and characters who discuss their problems? This might be for you. No magic fixes here but a happy ending is guaranteed!

Dishonor On Your Cow (ao3) -mandarou E, 111k

Summary: “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

Don't Look Down (ao3) - NamelesslyNightlock loki/tony M, 256k

Summary: When forced to decide between the lives of Tony Stark and Iron Man, Steve Rogers chose wrong.

Tony is left to deal with the consequences, but it’s not like he’s helpless, and he certainly isn’t alone.

From You I Cannot Hide (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony, bucky/natasha, clint/phil M, 66k

Summary: Being a sub isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being a sub who doesn’t like pain, well. That’s just weird. A sub’s sole responsibility in life is to be anything and everything a dom wants, an open canvas for a dom’s brush, malleable and sweet. Obie taught him that, and that fear ultimately tears him and Pepper apart. So Tony hides his dirty secret and doesn’t sub for anyone now. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

Good Boy (ao3) - triedunture steve/bucky E, 13k

Summary: Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

Have you no idea that you're in deep? (ao3) - theladyingrey42 steve/bucky E, 3k

Summary: Bucky wanted Steve to understand. The future could feel fucking awesome.

At least when it was vibrating in your ass.

Heart of Fools (ao3) - Claudia_flies steve/bucky E, 55k

Summary: Bucky spots the leaflet under some old magazines as he eats. It’s crumpled and worn. He’s looked at it several times in the past seven months since he found it in the Omega center. It has pictures of smiling couples holding hands, sitting on picnic blankets under willow trees. They’re outlined by slogans like “Serve Your Country” and “Your Contribution is Needed”.

Never is a Promise (ao3) - manic_intent steve/tony E, 9k

Summary: Steve had to admit that he had some reservations about how the New Century handled the social balance between alphas and omegas.

Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts (ao3) - Kellyscams steve/bucky, peggy/gabe, clint/natasha, pepper/tony M, 354k

Summary: When the House of Barnes is left in massive debt after the death of George Barnes, their oldest son and heir, Bucky, is forced to sacrifice his own hopes and dreams by entering an arranged married to Steve Rogers. Steve seems kind enough, has a prominent job in the government, and was even voted Society's Best Catch. But the House Rogers is significantly higher in status than Bucky's family, which means Bucky is marrying up in Society, and marrying up doesn't only come with rewards, it also comes with certain...expectations and losses--some of which Bucky might be willing to do anything to avoid. And those opportunities might come his way.

Unless, of course, he actually starts falling in love with his new husband...

Soul Searching (The Hop, Skip, Jump Remix) (ao3) - navaan steve/tony M, 5k

Summary: Tony lives a peaceful life in Irondale and then Steve Rogers drifts into town. It's the beginning of a romance — and not all is what it seems.

spit your tongue out (ao3) - deathsweetqueen tony/sam E, 5k

Summary: Sam is the last to come out of the Quinjet when it lands, and he looks just as handsome as he was the last time Tony saw him, a little thinner, a little wearier, more lines in his face that comes from exile.

His lungs are in his throat the entire time, and when Sam finally looks at him, his face hollowed out, he’s absolutely terrified of what he might say.

Sam doesn’t say anything.

Such Sweet Revenge (ao3) - ali_aliska bucky/tony M, 167k

Summary: When the Rogues are back in the States after being pardoned, the New Avengers want nothing to do with them and as far as Tony is concerned, if he never speaks to them again, it'll be too soon. After all, he didn't spend the last year putting himself (and his family) back together only for his former co-workers to ruin all of his hard work.

But then he gets a hand-written letter from the Winter Soldier himself, apologizing for the events that transpired and an off-handed comment from Rhodey about Rogers failing to take care of an obviously miserable Bucky Barnes sets in motion Tony's new, oh-so-evil plan to get some payback.

After all, what better revenge than to steal the Winter Soldier away from his best friend?

The only problem: Tony sucks at being vengeful, but apparently he's an expert at inadvertently falling in love.

Third Wheel or 20 Dates (ao3) - cakeisnotpie clint/steve E, 9k

Summary: Steve and Clint are the third wheels around the tower. Basketball, classic movies, plays, and late night workouts ensue. Turns out, they may have been dating the whole time.