#really prefer using the knife and orb

[dollfat]

really glad i decided to save lucanis' home because his healing abilities are way better.

next time I'll take neve with me during the prologue and help her save minrathous. its my fave city so far simply because it reminds me of dunwall. but every location has a unique look and feel.

[korraofthereef]

SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE AN EDIT OF TIMEBOMB TO “Not a lot, just forever” by Adrianne Lenker AND ILL LITERALLY GIVE YOU THE EXACT WAY TO EDIT IT I DON’F EVEN NEED CREDITS I JUST WANNA SEE IT

Not a lot, just forever

honestly this part is optional but I feel like the audio is too much of a kickstart to start with the line below

And your dearest fantasy

stick with me on this. So it’ll be Ekko heaving and conflicted in this scene:

For the entire duration of the lyrics until it’ll transition into the next set of lyrics where… (continue reading under the next lyric)

Is to grow a baby in me

it’ll tradition to Jinx’s face in that scene also for the entire duration of this set of lyrics:

Then slowly fading into the next scene of… (continue reading under the next lyric)

I could be // a good mother

(For the “I could be” part)

Isha running towards Jinx when Vi is abt to kill her (!)

(Now for the “a good mother” part)

Jinx holding onto/trying to push away Isha when held under Vi’s fist.

So the faces are like a parallel of scenes. I would have really liked for the clip shown directly above of Jinx holding Isha to come right after the scene of Jinx on the ground after fight Ekko because then the parallels would’ve matched better but the edit needed more clip transitions and more clarification so it’s kind of a must with this order. So if y’all could maybe make it very clear it’s supposed to be referencing a parallel that would be amazing (!)

And I wanna be your wife

For every syllable we’re gonna transition to a different scene with young Powder and Ekko specifically with these scenes in this order:

I tried my best to explain the syllables=scenes lmao

So I // hold you // to // my knife

(For the “so I // hold you” part)

We’ll start with the quick panning from one scene to another because the lyrics go by quick in this part of the song—so we’ll start with the scene of Jinx holding her gun during “So I” before cutting to Ekko standing there all angry during “Hold you”

(Now for the “to // my knife” part)

The reason I separated the lyric is because “to” drags on for about the same amount of time “my knife” is sang for. So it’ll be the part where Ekko is charging at Jinx with his board and stealing the hex orb thing, then quickly panning to the part where Ekko is getting the upper hand in the fight as he leaps towards Jinx.

Kind of like the first part of the entire lyric block where thy change scenes in between the double slash mark (//)

…also I know all of the clips in this part are very out of order from the actually scene in the show but it needs to be like this in order for a complete poetic masterpiece…

And I steal // your letter

(For the “and I steal” part)

Nowwwww is where Ekko will be looking up at the mural of Powder in the Firelight Base because it’s supposed to be sort of suggesting that he stole one last memory of Powder:

(Now for the “your letter” part)

This is just the second half of the explanation above. It’s just the mural y’all. And honestly, use whatever clip of the mural you want like you could use the one where it’s zoomed in on Powder’s face, or you could use the one where it’s a wide shot that captures Ekko and Vi in the frame.

This is obviously the close up on Powder on the mural,(which is preferred) but honestly if you guys are going through the trouble of making this edit then choose whatever clip for this part bc I’m eternally grateful.

Not a lot // just forever

Because I’m running out of the amount of photos I can add to a post, I’ll merge both side of the double slash lyric scene separation (//) into one photo for explanation

The top clip of young Powder and Ekko will be running for the duration of “Not a lot” and then after that lyric has passed, then the bottom scene of them fighting it out as their older selves in real time will play for the duration of the lyrics “Just forever”

Intertwine // some together

I couldn’t really choose one parallel scene from the finale fight because there’s so many so you guys just take your pick from the groups.

P.S. the scene on the top with the the one playing during “Intertwine” and the scene connected on the bottom half with be the one playing during “Some together”

(I’ll repost with the final photo bc I’m at my photo limit 😭)

ANYWHOOOOO

I was thinking that all the clips should start with high velocity and then quickly move into slow motion for the clips especially because they’re short clips and they’ll go quickly… yeah if you don’t understand what I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is make it twixtor and then speed it up at the beginning so it’s like smoothing transitioning Ykwim??

Feel fully entitled to transition the clips however you want, you can fade into other clips for more drama idk. Just suggesting slo-mo clips because the scene are short 👍

[forbiddenfrvt]

D E C A Y

de·cay [verb] : fall into disrepair; deteriorate.

re4r!leon kennedy x former umbrella assassin!reader, enemies-rivals x lovers?

warnings: sparring violence, usage of blades, | mentions of getting cut | blood | suggestive jokes | m x afab reader | explicit language | word count: 3259 words. ps: This is part one of this specific project/series. Decay will be uploaded into three to maybe four? parts as this goes on? NOT YET PROOFREAD author's notes: Basically a fuzzbrain moment, I was like- I feel like the workplace romance trope for leon is going on around, why not write one that jiggles my brain further, this is practically word vomit atp so sorry for errors. i imagined how conflicted leon would be to have a partner who used to be the top mercenary for umbrella corp n needing to trust her; esp after what transpired at raccoon city. poor bby will always be haunted by umbrella, one way or another. THERE will be smut at some point obvi heh. but id like to build up their relationship first before so nothing dirty for chapter one here.

Life has consistently made itself clear about not wanting to be fair; regardless if you're a saint, or a sinner. And funnily enough, life had placed you in the depths of hell, eager to see you crawl out of it like the devil aching to wear its' wings once more. Needless to say, you weren't God's favorite, not that you still thought there was one. Constantly being denied the privileges of believing. Especially now after the affairs with Raccoon City; affairs that never really ended.

Affairs that had just begun.

It had been six years since your arrival within the USSTRATCOM force, six whole years of rigorous training along half-assed assessments, and none of those days had passed by smoothly.

Six years of pure torture under the guise of justice.

You made your way inside the DSO training grounds, the click-clacking of your stilettoes echoed throughout the hall, announcing your arrival. It had been noted to you by others how 'impractical' your heels were during training and missions yet all you could ever say in response was a flat; "So?" proceeding to head onto fights victorious and fashionably. But in all honesty, you just preferred how you can use the tip of your heels like a knife.

Oceanic blue orbs observed your entrance, standing in the middle of the ring, just how he did the day you've first met, his rigid posture evident. Glaring at you was none other than your assigned partner—; Leon Scott Kennedy.

“You.” He jeers, as if your presence alone was an insult to him. And no matter how long it had been, no matter what you did to appease your colleague, Leon never bothered to, at the very least, be decent with you.

Of course you weren't no martyr, his habitual hatred for you eventually rubbed off on yourself— reciprocating his negative disposition. “Awe, I take it you don't miss me, Kennedy?” You spoke with a copy smile etched in your lips; eager to annoy him further than your presence alone did.

Tch. Leon clicks on his tongue, focusing his eyes over his bandaged hands, tightening it as you hopped over the ring— tiresome eyes never abandoned yours.

"Just so you know," He paused, taking a step forward. "I won't go easy on you."

Hah, how cocky. His words rang in your mind, a mixture of excitement and irritation conjoining. You were practically rivals within the field at this point, with everyone letting out a harsh breath whenever the two of you would bicker or spar, feeling the tension for themselves. Eyes squinting in annoyance upon hearing his remark, “You'd be forced not to, Kennedy.” You turn to the side, fixing your bandaged hands, making sure the fabric were tight enough not to fall apart mid-spar.

"Forced?" Leon asks with a grin, raising a brow. He cracks his neck, loosening muscles before taking a defensive stance with a relaxed demeanor. "I don't know how you'd manage that." This by far had been the longest you two conversed since you've met. Further proving just how estranged the both of you are despite being partners. “Oh, trust me Ken Doll.” You flash a sly smirk, a single strand of your hair framing the left side of your face. “I know my way around you.” You add with a wink. After all these years together, how could you not? Leon raised an eyebrow at your cockiness. “How so?” he asked, giving you an amused smile.

You shook your head, placing one foot behind her and the other to the front for support; already gauging his moves for the spar. He took a forward stance, one foot forward and one foot back, raising his fists in a ready position. He had a smile on his face, but a competitive gleam in his eyes. “Show me what you can do.”

Without a word of warning, you pushed yourself forward, kicking the foot you placed to your back upward— aiming towards Leon's head. Fist at the ready for his defense.

Leon ducked to the side almost instantly, leaning back to avoid the unexpected attack. His face showed a look of surprise at your speed, but he quickly regained his composure. “Not bad,” he said with an impressed look on his face. “I thought you would have taken it easy on the first shot.” He readied himself for your retaliation, getting ready to dodge.

Your voice was laced with amusement and mockery at the same time. “Aw, you know I love you too much to do that.” Dropping the same foot to the ground, you wasted no time to spin yourself around and throw another roundhouse kick at Leon starting with the other leg, one arm supporting your leap. While yes, they both already acknowledge the fact that they were rivals, and maybe even the others had to— you did hold respect to his prowess in that regard. It simply was his attitude towards you that pushed you away from actually befriending the guy. That and, you simply couldn't bring yourself to lower your pride. 'Just for Leon Kennedy? Nah, you wouldn't. Not in a million years. Right?'

He subconsciously allows her to be herself during fights. He excites her, more than she wants him to. More than he'll ever know.

Leon jumps to the side, narrowly avoiding the vicious attack yet again. His eyes were wide with surprise at the speed and power contained within your attack. “You’re certainly packing quite the punch,” he said, getting ready to respond with his own attack. “You must be more determined than I anticipated.”

You could only chuckle— “C'mon Kennedy, it's me.” enjoying this spar session. You caved to relax your stance, preparing to avoid his attacks. Your eyes intent on not leaving his body. "You know I'm capable of anything."

“We’ll see if you can keep up with my pace,” he says with a smirk as he begins to rush in. He swings a wild left punch to catch you off guard, and then sends a hard right kick towards your head. “Let’s see what you got, dollface!” he taunts. It seems Leon wasn’t holding back anymore, but that was a given with the two of them.

Your eyes slants in focus, ducking down to avoid the kick while simultaneously dodging his punch, your leg swiftly sliding down across his legs in an attempt to trip him down. Adamant to avoid his hits. You were indeed faster than Leon, but he obviously packs more force in his punches than you could. Duh, he's a muscle man.

You manage to avoid both of his strikes, moving much faster than he anticipated. Still, he catches himself, recovering from the attack with surprising skill. He seems even more impressed and cautious than before, but ever more determined to land a hit. “Very impressive,” he says, taking a second to catch his breath. “Maybe I underestimated you a lil’ bit.”

He sounds genuinely impressed this time. And you hadn’t expected him to actually compliment you, especially since you’ve been rivals for as long as you can remember. “You're just rusty now, Kennedy.” You grin— cartwheeling away from him, before crouching down preparing your body for his next blows. “Fun. But rusty for me.”

“Rusty or not, you sure are something else, [Y/L/N],” he says with a small, almost amused smile. He starts circling you, readying himself to continue the fight. It seems he’s determined to land one of his attacks. “What’s your next move, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, I don’t have all day!”

Her legs swiftly launched towards him, landing behind him before kicking his knees to push him on the ground— giggling mockingly as she does so. “Awe?" a fake hurt, "You can't even spend an entire day playing with me now, Ken Doll?”

Leon stumbles, clearly surprised from your sneak attack. He recovers quickly, standing back up, but not before letting out a small grunt of pain. “Alright, now you’re asking for it,” he says, with a playful grin. He lunges forward in an attempt to land a punch but quickly backs up. “I hope you’re ready.” He seems more determined than ever, throwing his jabs and kicks with an increased level of power. It seems you’d really made him angry with your previous kick.

You eventually got hit with his punches on your cheek along with both of your forearms from blocking them, yet your smile never faltered, nor the glint in your eyes as you stared directly at his blue orbs. “Am I? Maybe I am demanding more from you.” You threw your arms sideways blocking his while simultaneously hitting his side with your elbow, using your agility to land blows back in retaliation for his harsh punches. Laughing as his brows furrow in agitation, “Don't stress about me, Handsome.”

“I’ll admit, you’re better than I expected,” Leon says as he lands several solid blows on your arms, his punches growing stronger and stronger as the fight continued.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, trying to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into a tight head lock. He squeezes his arm in an attempt to knock you down. If he can pull off his attack, he’ll gain the upper hand in this fight. You had better come up with a plan, and fast.

With a quick turn, you did let him feel up your waist; but only before sliding down to escape his grasp, crouching and gliding in and back out between his legs to avoid his lock, coming up from behind. “Never did I think a day would come where I'm in between your lap, Kennedy.” You whispered teasingly on one side of his ear, before going over on the other, blowing cold air on his earlobes— “But here we are.”

His face reddens at your teasingly mocking words, but all you get from him is an irritated frown. He’s not going to let that get to him, no matter how much you tease him during this spar. Seizing the opportunity to, you hit his sides from the back to push him aside.

Leon jumps back, narrowly avoiding your blow to his ribs. He glares at you over his shoulder. “You’ll regret that, [Y/N],” he growls., spinning his heel around and points an accusing finger towards you. “You better watch yourself with that kind of talk, princess.”

“Hmm? What kinda talk?” You inquired, voice— vixen-like.

Leon scowls, annoyed at your words, but you certainly caught him off guard. "You know what I meant," he says through gritted teeth. “And don’t get any ideas.”

Obviously, his reactions piqued your interests further more, taking slow strides circling him as he did to you earlier. Your hips sway from left to right as if you couldn't be bothered to be on guard. “I wish you were half this funny all the time, Mr. Policeman.” You looked at him, a blank face with a seemingly disappointed tone, “Maybe I would've liked you better.”

Even so, a small smirk finds its way onto his face. “Oh yeah? Is that so?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His tone is a little bit teasing with a hint of arrogance. "Having you like me sounds disgusting, [Y/N]." He seems a bit more relaxed than before, but you can tell he’s still determined to win this sparring session. "I don't blame you though."

“What makes you think I even see you as a member of the opposite sex?” You snarked, "Much less a member of the same species..." cocking your head to the side, before ushering him to come at you. “If I had a knife I would've already had it sitting on your throat— Kennedy.” You add menacingly, yet— it was obvious in your tone that it was more so you simply expressing your blatant annoyance. You rarely could ever feel the urge to actually hurt such Leon, but man would it feel so good to.

“Oh, you think that’ll save you?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow. He seems confident, but he’s hiding a flicker of uncertainty. He’s never fought against a knife before, and he’s not sure if he’d be able to avoid serious damage if you attacked him. But he can’t back down now, he’s come too far.

“Let’s see it, dollface,” he taunts. “Let’s see how you do against a real weapon.”

The officials probably wouldn't care as long as they didn't actively go and try to kill one another so you smiled in agreement. Clearly reminding yourself why you liked his spontaneity; he mirrored you, in ways you both liked and disliked.

“You're asking a fish to breathe underwater at this point Leon.” Your smug smile matches his, taunting him back with confidence. You swiftly grab one of your daggers stashed on the table, letting Leon pick his weapon of choice out, fairly showing what you picked off.

Leon looks surprised for a second, then takes out a combat knife from his pocket. He seems eager to finally bring a real weapon into the fight. “What do ya say, doll face?” he asks with a wink. “You ready to get serious?” He smiles and stands in a defensive stance, gripping his blade tightly. Even if it was just a training exercise, he didn’t seem to be taking any chances, as if he was actually fighting for his life. That’s just the type of person he is.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that sort of commitment with you yet, Kennedy.” You remarked, jokingly.

With each swish of the daggers around your fingers— you lowers your stance, making it easy for you to jab the weapon around.

You were a weapons expert like Carlos is, that's for sure. A friend whom she might never disclose around the space. “A criminal versus a cop.” She mumbles to herself, laughing inwardly.

“Try and catch me, Officer~.”

Your playful words only make him smirk again as he advances on you with a determined look in his eye. “I’d rather take you by force,” he says, his voice filled with confidence and authority. He doesn’t waste any time before lunging forward with his knife, swinging it in a wide arc to test your reflexes and ability to dodge. His eyes are cold and focused, as if he’d been fighting real killers his whole life. “Let’s see how you handle this, doll face,” he says, with a faint smile. “I can’t wait.”

The girl ducks down in opposite directions that Leon swung at, letting him be at the offensive this time around. You linked your arm around his before kicking him from the back, still not actively swinging your daggers. , You were used to this, of course, in every sparring session they had together; it became clear to you what Leon is good at, and where his blind spots were.

Hell, one would think this is how their usual dates would go; if they actually were a couple. But no, course not. “Best you could do? I'm falling sleepy here, Kenny.”

Leon stumbles back from your kick to his back, barely managing to keep his balance. He’s surprised to see how well you’re dodging his attacks, but he’s not about to back down yet. He growls as he charges forward, sending a wide slash towards the center of your body. This time he’s putting all of his strength behind his attack, taking no chances. “You won’t be sleepy for long, dollface,” he says with an amused grin. “I’m going all out this time.”

The former rookie cop manages to graze your stomach, a medium length gash forming at your skin, contrasting beautifully against your [Y/S/C] complexion. With so much as a hiss of pain, the girl sprang forth like a snake.

Hence her nickname at the battlefront.

In retaliation to his slice, you grab hold of him from the side, wrapping your legs around his hips before stabbing the tips of your daggers in his arm, creating two holes on his bicep.

Leon looks surprised by how quickly you react to his attack as he grunts in pain. In the blink of an eye, you plunge your daggers into his arm, leaving him bleeding.

“Damn! Fine, fine, ya got me,” he says, smiling in spite of his wounded arm. He grits his teeth, clearly in pain, but he does have to admire your skills. You really are impressive to be able to take him down so quickly.

“Alright yeah, I’d say you won,” he admits with a chuckle. “Really? When we're both injured in the same capacity?”

You could only roll your eyes in disbelief, lifting your shirt up to showcase the long wound Leon carved onto you. “Did you want to be a surgeon or something?” Your eyes darting to your stomach and back at his arm. “Be glad I cleaned my knives earlier, I almost panicked that I left paralyzers on the blades.” “You got me there,” he admits with a laugh. “Your skills are certainly something else.”

With so, your arms clearly bruised, you turned around. “Can you untie my hair for me? It's pulling too roughly now— you messed it up after all.” Your voice sounding a lot more meek now than earlier, clearly a different person outside of combat.

Leon raises an eyebrow at your request, but he nods nonetheless. He seems surprised to see you ask something like that of him. It’s a gentle gesture, but it clearly catches him off guard. “Sure, no problem.” He reaches around and unties your hair, doing his best to be gentle.

Once your hair is untied, he steps back. “Anything else you have in mind, dollface?” he asks with a teasing wink. To which you could only stare at him blankly, throwing a cloth and gauze pad at his face, harshly, before walking away to leave. Silently urging him to get his wound patched up already.

“Alright, alright!” Leon calls after you, laughing slightly as he holds the cloth up to his arm. He looks annoyed, but deep down he’s happy that you care. He takes a quick look at his wounded arm in the mirror, then heads toward the medical bay to get himself patched up.

Despite the competition and rivalry, there is a mutual respect between the two of you. And deep down, he knows he can’t help but care about you, even if he doesn’t admit it out loud. Nor does he want to admit it to himself.

You couldn't help but glare at the staff surrounding the area who clearly thought something was between you two. You long knew how much you used to idolize Leon, but now that everything was said and done, it dawned on you that you both simply respect one another, but didn't think too fondly of the other.

It was hard for you to explain it, even to yourself, but all you know is that they're colleagues who dislike both, yet still cared. Maybe just professionally. A secret loyalty, if you may. “Bye, Kennedy.” You waved off to leave the training grounds— walking a bit slowly as you approached the door. Leaving it to close on its own as you left. Leon could only roll his shoulders once you disappeared eyeing her trail in conflicted interest, caressing the skin of his arm that met yours as if to recall the sensation. Shutting his eyes with his head hung back as a guttural groan escapes his lips, displeased by his thoughts that began to shroud with images of you.

"Till next time, Dollface."

[mikasas-biggestwhore]

Pls write aot character kinks(Armin oiled up submissive and getting dominated)

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔸𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

a/n: I’ve actually thought about this before and I’m so happy to have someone ask about it 🤭

Characters: Armin, Mikasa, Reiner, and Annie

Warnings for the following content: NSFW, fem bodied reader, female body parts are described, mentions of sub and dom reader, mentions of being dominant and submissive, overstimulation, bondage, hair pulling, praise kink, mommy kink, mentions of sex toys, strap ons, facesitting, pegging, knife play, mirror sex, and edging

‼️Obviously all characters are written with the idea that they are all currently adults ‼️

Enjoy my loves 🧡

Armin Arlert

— The beautiful blue eyed blonde is here to start us off <3

— Now most people see Armin being fully submissive but he definitely gives off more of switch energy. Like Armin could play either roles if you needed him to. However, Armin does prefer to be submissive over being dominant.

— He’s more of a receiver then really a giver

— Obviously if you ask he has no issue fucking you into your sheets until your seeing stars in your vision and crying out about how good he feels. But he will also happily bend himself over and take your strap like a champ.

— A huge kink for Armin is overstimulation. Giving or receiving, either way is fine for him.

— Armin loves being overstimulated. It feels like everything is too much and too little at the same time. He feels like his body is going to snap in half but it all just feels too good and he can’t bring himself to try and pull away from you. He loves the way you ring him dry and always claim all you want is one more orgasm from him to only ask him for another.

— Now if Armin is giving, Karma’s a bitch. He loves the way your eyes well up with tears. The way that you grab his hand to stop him but instead of pulling his hand away you just hang on to his wrist because you feel so good and you don’t wanna stop. The way you chant his name like it’s a magic word and it’s his name you yell for the nth time you cum.

— A big no for Armin are blindfolds. He loves eye contact. Eye contact makes everything feel so much more intimate and blindfolds take that away. If he can see that your into it as much as he is it turns him on to the absolute max. He could probably cum from making eye contact with you during sex.

— Another kink Armin has is bondage. He likes to watch as you focus trying to loop the ropes properly over one another and make sure they aren’t too tight. When you tell him to test the hold of the rope and he can’t move. He gets a rush from putting himself completely at your mercy.

“Come on Armin. Just one more time. You can do it.” you pushed as you stroked his member wiping your thumb carefully over the head. The blonde let out a shaky whimper as he fought against the restraints he was in. He was tied to a chair, his hands behind his back with the ropes tied into a pretty knot. He was so overstimulated it was insane.

It all just felt too good and tears began to fall from his eyes, “It’s okay baby. Your doing so good. You can do it.” You praise him as you wipe his tears away. With your other hand you speed up your movements and can see the start of his orgasm. His chest begins to rapidly rise and fall and he goes cross eyed.

“I’m close.” he pants out trying to warn you. Everything is perfect exactly as you want it to be. You know exactly how to send him over the edge. With a smirk you grab his hair. Your fingers are interlaced with the blonde strains in a death grip.

You pull his face up towards yours. “I wanna see your eyes when you cum.”

Its a struggle but Armin focuses his eyes on your pretty face. His ocean blue orbs met your lust filled eyes and his eyes immediately roll to back of his head and he comes with a shout of your name. He becomes limp in the chair that bound his limbs. He slowly comes down from his orgasm.

“Such a good boy.” you praise as you give him a heated kiss on the lips.

— Did I forget to mention he has a praise and hair pulling kink?

Mikasa Ackerman

— Mikasa is dominant which is expected. She’s strong, intimidating, and confident. She is excellent when she’s in charge and likes to be aware of everything. She’s a very caring and attentive dom and she gets pleasure in knowing that your getting pleasure.

— She absolutely loves giving. She isn’t against the idea of receiving but really doesn’t like it at all. Obviously if you ask her and give her time she’ll receive but that’s only because it’s still technically bringing you pleasure. It’s like a “if your happy I’m happy” situation.

— If you allow her to give, your in one hell of a ride. Mikasa genuinely gets off on giving. She gets extremely turned on at the fact that she’s the reason your in complete bliss. That her fingers are the ones pumping into you and the reason why your moaning like a whore or why you can only babble and can’t complete a full sentence.

— PLEASE WEAR LINGERIE 

— Mikasa goes absolutely crazy for it. It’s like your a present and she gets the honor of unwrapping you. She thinks you look cute in whatever you wear. It amazes her how the designs and colors on the thin pieces of clothing compliment you so well.

— Mikasa also has a raging mommy kink, it’s ridiculous. C’mon guys look at her and tell me I’m lying.

— If you called Mikasa ‘mommy’ in bed your ass is actually doomed. She will throw your ass on the bed and fuck you until that’s the only word you know. On top of that she will praise you like no tomorrow and will be so quick to hit you with, “Your being so good for mommy” in a sickly sweet voice.

— Mikasa also loves using toys on you. It gives her a way to give you more pleasure while keeping you all to her self. She’s a actual menace if she has the correct arsenal. She is the type to pump into you with her strap while she puts a vibrator to your clit. She loves using vibrators on you.

— A big thing for Mikasa is aftercare. She basically rearranged your guts and she needs to make sure that you have no pain left over from that.

— She’ll run you a nice hot bath and get in with you. Not for any funny business, no. She wants to help wash and massage your tired limbs. She’ll give light kisses as she moves around your body and tell you about how good you did for her and how pretty you looked during it all.

You could barely think with the amount of pleasure that coursed through your body. Mikasa had a steady pace as she pumped a dildo in and out of your wet entrance. The base was slick with your fluids that dripped down the dildo. You could feel it start to drip down your ass but you weren’t going to complain because it was reaching all the places that had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling.

Mikasa looked up at you between your shaking thighs. Her dark eyes filled with lust, “How’s my baby doing?” She asks sweetly as she snapped the toy forward making you arch off the bed.

“It feels so good Mommy!” you cried out. She gave you a sweet smile and shifted slightly to reach for something. You couldn’t figure out what she was getting because if possible she moved the toy faster inside of you. Making you disregard the curious train of thought.

A couple more seconds passed until there was the unmistakable buzz that met your ears. It was a vibrator. You knew it was only a matter of time before she brought it out.

You sobbed as the vibrator met your clit. Mikasa hadn’t been giving it attention and now you understood why. She had been plotting. Everything just became ten times more intense.

“Don’t worry baby I’ll run a nice bath for us after we’re done.” she kisses your forehead as she makes the vibrator do circles around your clit.

Reiner Bruan

— As big as Reiner is he’s definitely a sub. This man has been through far too much and genuinely just wants to be taken care of. He has had to fight all his life and he’s so tired. He wants to hand the reigns over and relax.

— Reiner loves your pussy.

— He’ll eat you out likes he’s on death row and it’s his last meal. When he lifts his head from between your thighs all of your juices cover his beard, dripping from the fine hairs and all he does is lick his lips and go back in for another taste. He also loves it when you sit on his face. Reiner couldn’t give two fucks of how big you are. He just wants to be up and personal with your pussy.

— He wants to be able to smell and taste you without any interruption. If you are on the thicker side Reiner is all the more pleased. He loves the weight of you being on top of him. The way your thighs squeeze around his head has him reeling. Or how you rock against his face chasing your own orgasm.

— He absolutely loves to get pegged. It’s a way for him to lose himself and all he needs to think about is being your good boy. After all he lives to please you. Shit, him being the receiver in general is fine with Reiner. He will take it like a champion.

— NUMBER ONE RULE WHEN PEGGING REINER IS YOU HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM.

— Reiner just wants to be out of his head. Fuck him absolutely dumb. To the point all he can do is babble and say your name over and over. He wants to just feel not think and it’s your job to help him with that. He’s happy to become your slut <3

— He’ll take it in any position also. I mean any position.

— He could be folded in half or on all fours. As long as your fucking him real good, he doesn’t care.

— He lives for giving you fauxjobs. Obviously it doesn’t do much for you but it’s impossible for you to look away when he’s downing your 6 inch plastic dick. The sound of him gagging and the way he can take it all the way down to the base. All you know is if you did have a dick Reiner would have you cumming in seconds.

— Something about Reiner that might surprise people is that he’s loud. I mean loud to the point where you literally can’t have sex anywhere else besides your bedroom. He feels too good and he’s just really vocal about it. Which is fine we love vocal men.

— Reiner has a breeding kink. Both ways are fine for him. He likes the thought of getting you pregnant (consensually of course) and if you fuck him dumb enough you might have him yelling out about how he wants you to breed him.

Reiner cried out as your crotch met his ass. His face was smushed into the bed sheets, his hair was stuck to his forehead, and he was ass up and taking your strap like his life depended on it

“F-fuck.” His face was screwed into pleasure. He clawed at the bed sheets and let out several loud moans as you pounded his ass.

“You look so good taking my strap.” You compliment. You get a weak whine in response. You just smirk and look at where Reiner and your strap are connected. You can see the way the dildo slide in and out of Reiner’s hole, making a squelch sound when you would thrust forward.

Reiner was a absolute mess. His head was laid to the side and drool was pooling from his mouth, his face was scrunched from feeling the pull of the toy against his inner walls, and all he did was speak gibberish. He was in heaven and seeing stars.

You shift your hips a certain way managing to hit his prostrate. Reiner let out a girlish moan that time. He felt embarrassed from the sound but he really didn’t care. It felt too good for him to give a fuck.

“Please. I need you to cum in me.” He groaned out. That had your hips stutter for a second. What did he just say? You really have fucked him dumb.

— Another with a praise kink!

Annie Leonheart

— Okay so Annie. Oh Annie. She’s a switch but she leans heavily on the more dominant side. She’s more of a rougher dom and wouldn’t be afraid in the slightest of being rough with you.

— This woman loves being rough with you. Without a second thought she would grab you and throw you around. Annie is so quick also. You literally have no time to even defend yourself before your being grabbed and tossed on the couch or bed like a rag doll.

— She gets a kick out of how easy you are to toss around and manhandle.

— Now Annie is definitely on the freakier side of BDSM. Her kinks aren’t crazy or weird, just out of the ordinary for most people. She’s into things that have a edge to them. A slight danger even. Obviously she’s extremely consensual and won’t do something unless your completely okay with it.

— Starting off she has a thing for knives. She doesn’t do anything with them though. She just likes to use them to caress your skin and make you get goosebumps all over your skin. She loves to have a little danger in the air.

— Annie also loves mirror sex. She’ll hold your head in place to make you watch yourself the whole time. She wants you to watch as she makes you fall apart in her arms. She likes to make eye contact with you through the mirror as she fucks you with her strap. She’ll give a smirk as you look away in embarrassment.

— Annie will absolutely mark you up. She needs for people to know that your hers. It’s her name you moan out when you finish, her name you say when your begging to cum, or it’s her that gave you all of those hickies and bruises around your body.

— She leaves big ass marks all over your body but especially your thighs, ass, and tits. The thing that you don’t understand is how she does it without you noticing. You have a wild and passionate night with her and you wake up to being covered to the point you have to wear turtlenecks and long pants.

— While Annie does seem intimidating she would never actually hurt you. If she did she genuinely wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She knows she can be rough and will only go as far as her partner likes.

— Annie will edge you to the point your begging to cum. She will work you up to the point your on the verge of a orgasm and just stops everything. She always come up with a excuse on the spot on why she stopped. “My hips hurt give me a second” she’ll claim.

— Don’t you dare try and get off while she’s busy. She will threaten to leave you the way you are and she knows that you can’t get off without her. The worse part is that she’ll degrade you for it.

— “Your such a fucking slut” To be fr she’s hella mean but she does do it for your pleasure at the end of the day.

— Now the twist with Annie is she never wants anything in return but she’s willing to let you do what you want to her. When she does let you be the dominant one in bed she’s a fucking mess. She becomes so pathetic is actually insane.

You could feel the burn in your stomach. The build up that was going to soon release. Annie had her fingers deep inside of you, working them at a steady pace. You were so close you just needed a little more. Then Annie stopped her movements. You could feel the drag of her fingers putting out. Oh no.

“Look at how wet you are” Annie pulled out of you fully and showed you her shiny fingers. Your slick covered them. The whitish fluids dripped down her middle and ring finger. She spreaded them apart with a thin line of cum between them. She began examining her fingers, playing with your slick longer then necessary and you could feel the orgasm you were so close to having slowly dissipate.

“Annie please I need you” You whined, “I need you to help me cum. Please” you begged. Annie ignored you busy looking at her wet fingers still.

“Please Annie! Please! I wanna cum!” This seemed to gain her attention. She looked you up and down. You looked so pretty like this. Desperate and wet.

She grabbed one of your legs and placed it on her shoulder. She shoved her fingers back in making you let out loud moan, “Ugh your such a whore” she stated and began pumping her fingers again. “Can’t last 5 minutes without my fingers inside you”

I didn’t add too many characters because the original request was more focused on Armin but I hope everyone likes it. Please tell me if I’ve missed any tags.

Like I said I’m happy to do requests, Happy new years <3

[ravenempress101]

He Knows Who I Am M | Hoseok *Requested*

Pairing : Yandere!Jung Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Horror!Yandere Stalker

Rating 18+ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Warnings: knife play *if you squint*, blood, stabbing, cream pie, NON CON, cameras, heavy drug play, stalker vibes, a very fudged up Hoseok, sneaking into her personal belongings, using force, HARDCORE YANDERE THEME, Choking, blindfold, passing out, body fluids ,moans, screams, Hardcore oral receiving, smut

Authors note: this is a request i hope i did justice with this one hun thank you for requesting if you love what you see definitely fill my inbox with anything and everything and if you love the weeknd go listen to his FM album

“Ahhhh there she is, my love, oh how i missed your begin”

Y/n stepped into the frame of Hoseok's eyes in the sky. She strutted to her lotion bottle of Japanese cherry blossom and shook it upon her palm. Hoseok smirks at yourself on his computer screen, that was his favorite scent.Her fingers smooth circles on her soft shoulder and trailed down to her thighs a hiss fell from her lips from the massages that soaked up her ebony skin.

As an awe escape from the chestnut haired man, the towel collided with the floor.His eyelashes connected over your breasts, to your thick stomach and laced with your love handles, his darkened brown orbs trailed up your legs, your mahogany skin illuminated his world. A finger ran over the computer screen longing for him to touch your presence. Hoseok pants tighten under him the thought of you taking all of him has aroused his frame.

“I need your touch my doll, I want all of you, just the thought of me inside you fuck”

He boomed curses as soft moans filled his car. He scanned down at his jeans as a wet spot of white covered his length. y/n’s breasts perked from her shower and her love handles swayed to the kitchen.

“What are you doing sweetheart, bending down so nicely, i’ll fuck you everywhere in that house’

Hoseok fantasy clouded his mind. Only a few miles away from you, he wanted for you to submit all to him and he’s going to get you to. It’s not like he doesn’t know his place around. He would time when you step foot out of the house to your busy domestic work life. y/n’s car would shuffle out of the driveway, he would pick the lock and make his home in your living room. He wanted to be loved by such an ancient soul. While you're gone each room his hands will lay on the things that captivated your smell so perfectly.

Your scent flourished on your lingerie, most prized possession was your panties that laid in your top drawer, a color that filled his tenderness. His palm buried his nose with your silky fabric, his nostrils overwhelmed with your insides of frosted vanilla. He sighed at the site of his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was crazy but crazy for your love. His lips brushed against your lingerie, the eyelashes were black as a demon rolling to the back of his head.

“Oh my darling you smell so sweet, I can't wait to devour you”

The panties colliding with the floor as he rummage through your things. Hoseok only knew you took birth control.it’s like you didn’t really need it cause he would love for you to bear his seed for him. Dances happen in your room to the songs of your favorite band. Brown orbs landed on the poster, his blood boiled staring at the one you go crazy for, his fingers appeared with a middle digit and nose crunched up, he would make sure you scream his name once he has you trapped under him.

The kitchen is where his footprints led him. A leftover cheese pizza that your lips retrieved from the belly of hunger. The Colombian espresso in your preferred mug. His face laced with a smirk capturing a plastic bag and placing the pizza slice in the bag and then your mug in his palm as he turned it up to sip from where you stopped. It’s like he wanted to be you so he could force you to feel all the feelings he had for you.

The clink of the door erupted in the house as the mysterious psycho heard your footsteps in the hall he snuck out the back door before y/n could know about his obsession.

Clouds luminous across the sky. Changing from a pure white to a gloomy grey. The clouds grew bigger. As a crack came over the grey sky. A flash of light struck the clouds.hoseok in the car. The rain drops decorated his car. He scanned around at his tools he was going to use on yourself. His boxy smile appeared from your virtual figure climbing into your california king bed and your pink duvet covers flooded your thick frame. Y/n’s body shivered calmly and her orbs closed, her mouth hung open with snores and soft whimpers. Her chest rapidly rising and falling.hoseok orbs scanning your sleeping figure. He grabbed his black hood and placed it on his head as it hugged its frame. He slid out of his car and his sneakers tapped over to y/n’s bedroom window. He lifts it up and he steps into the frame of the window, his whole body in her bedroom and he closes the window.

His soft steps around your room. His dark chocolate eyelashes sneaked glimpses of your free from stress structure. Hoseok footsteps to yourself, he couldn’t believe this is going to happen to him making it a reality to have you for one night. The black blindfold from his pocket and tied it over your vision. Waving his palm over your incognito site, y/n paralyzed with slumber. A tune he hummed by your ear.

Y/n shifted her shape, breathing accelerated her deep sleep. A boom of his hand colliding with your table echoed and jolted yourself out of deep sleep. Y/n eyelashes open, from there her vision is absent of light. Her muzzle went dry from her head jerking from side to side. She panicked under the situation she woke from. Fear rushed in on her bones, trembling from the sound her throat closed up.

“W-wwhoo I-I-is there”

“I saw you last night….. you looked breathtaking sweetheart”

His stern voice made her structure break into a cold blooded sweat. She didn’t know the person in her room or the voice. The aroma he carried was familiar to her from around the house after she came home.

“Please whoesever t-t-there why can’t I-I-I see”

Hoseok devilish smirk from ear to ear from your innocent being. Like a lion hunting its prey he was satisfied seeing you sprawled out in fear at just him being in the room he pinched his forearm and a gasp from his lips at his reality that he created. Footsteps echoed the man closing the distance in on you. Hoseok ringed fingers in your sweaty hair, absorbing the crown into a fist and he guided your head to his rosey cheek. His lips seeped of nectar and onto your soft cheeks.y/n hissed at the icy saliva from his lips, her nervousness got the best of her as her forehead dripped with wetness.

“I can’t believe i have you in my arms touching you, feeling every part of your body”

The rogue of him shook y/n to her core. If y/n saw the devil it would be him that has her in for his special torture and pleasure. y/n synthesized her legs gaining confidence from his hold, her palm on his has she tries to break free. His hands release as your head collides with the pillow, hoseok captures her waist and squeezes tightly. He seized the syringe from his pocket, his teeth bit the top and he blew the top and collided with the floor exposing an enormous metal needle. Plunging it into your neck, y/n screamed from the pinch as his thumb releases the substance into your bloodstream. Hoseok releases your begin, y/n starts her heels to the floor to run, her bottom half numb as she stumbled on the floor. y/n’s claws into the floorboards crawling away from hoseok. The drugs seeped through her body as she moved, burning sensations flared up and her yells filled the room.

Y/n’s heartbeat sped up was the only thing that was harken. Hoseok stepped near her dazed body, his tattooed palm around her neck. Your breath hitched from the pressure enclosing on the shaft of your throat. He lifted her by her throat and smashed yourself on the wall. y/n and hoseok eye to blindfold contact. y/n trembling fingers on his wrist hoseok strained all his body weight on your petite cervix. Short breaths performed on her frame, your lungs collapsing with every suffocating breath that hits you. hoseok trailed his gaze over your fragile begin.He could snap you in Half if he wanted to but he wanted to do more before he broke you.

“I’ll clip those pretty little wings if it’ll mean you wont try to fly away from me, ah my love your so sweet”

“N-n-no please leave me alone, i promise if you leave I won’t tell no one please i’ll give you money please”

“Gosh I don’t want your money, i want to be in your skin but your body underneath me would have to do”

Clenching his jaw, he lifts you up by your neck and chucks your body on the bedspread. Her legs guide her to the headboard. His hand extended to your ankle tightening. Yanking your body down to him his enormous built towered over you. His fingers grazing over the bump in his pocket. The coldness of the metal shook your confidence as a tear slipped from the rim of your eye and soaked into the blindfold. Her nipples manifest through her sleep shirt. Has his tongue graze over his bottom lip licking of excitement at the arousal of the piercing blade on your flesh. The blade penetrating over the outline of the nipple. A strangled moan manifested in the atmosphere from her betraying begin.

“The sounds you make I want to hear it forever and always”

Hoseok blade slipped underneath your shirt. He craved tiny cuts in your outfit and your shirt in half. Y/n’s bra manifest from the cutting he did. His chocolate doe orbs grew with his lust that fulfilled his thoughts. Your body shape was like a harp that his fingers strung perfectly. He knew he loved who he picked from being outside of your job all those tired days.

Then his calloused fingers in your locks of hair the blade in his other hand. He sliced the end of your hair and yanked it from your root. He bought your strands to his nostrils and his inhale of vanilla bean overtook his appearance. His eyes close as your scent washed over him. Goosebumps decorated his skin. He loved how your scent made him high. Winces made him knock out of his fantasy. Her sweat seeped through her blindfold, her jaw clenched from the headache he gave her. The blindfold wet her broken orbs uncovering from the shield. Seeing the porcelain man above her and his deranged look spreaded fear through her veins. His eyebrows furrowed in satisfaction. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Ahhh look at those eyes so full of life, if you don’t do as I say I will make them lifeless and had them to my collection”

“Oh god p-p-please don’t k-kill me”

“I won’t if you behave”

The knife trails down to your imprint. The point of the knife penetrates the hem of your pantie as he lifts the fabric breaks and pieces of your clothing his mouth quivered at your bud being exposed. Y/n hyperventilate from the cold air hitting her forbidden flower. His orbs glimpses to your drenched entrance, your betrayed arousal like a siren for his mouth. His face inches away from your pussy. Hoseok's strawberry lips parts from his shaky breath from your bud. Y/n’s breath hitch in the back of her throat, his eyes on your fidgety frame. As his palm raises it comes back down on your stomach with a slap echoes off of you. Y/n shrieks in pain.

“ stop moving, I want to make you feel good with every inch”

“No please I don’t want this please sir”

Hoseok heart shapes on your sensitive clit stroking with airy kisses. Y/n felt the warmth sensation of his mouth. A feeling she didn’t want to come to terms with. Her stomach churned from his kissing building rougher and sloppier.Than his tongue passed his bottom lip and he parted your drenched folds as he kitten licks inside you.Y/n groaned from his dominance performing on her.y/n arched her back at his heated tongue refreshing your sensitive spot.Then he dives his tongue inside yourself as he wiggled sending for your high.Y/n’s refusals danced as moans that he love like a symphony.Once y/n was slurring her no’s he knew you were close and he ejected his tongue an placed a soft peck on your clit.

Y/n’s breath steady from his tongue out of her. She sighed in relief.He licked your juices from his plump lips and then y/n heard a soft buzz in the distance.Hoseok had a rose bud in his hand and y/n’s legs closed shut from the buzzing sound her head shook everywhere in protest.

“No please don’t do this to me stop your hurting me”

“You look so ethereal when you beg for mercy, babygirl you should know I give no one mercy”

The vibrating got closer to y/n as his palms on your knee forcing your legs apart, the vibrations on your inner thigh. Y/n clenched her bottom jaw from the vibrating toy. Your mind wondering to what you ate to fill the focus on your high spilling out of yourself from the monster above you. He loved when you clenched your eyes close in terror his excitment at the darkening horror taking over.

The waves of vibrations to your clit and the toy inside yourself as the rose bud attached itself inside. The vibrations from her core washed over her thighs and to her whole frame. Y/n moans and short circuits of her body made his eyes smile with anticipation for her. He loved playing with his toys and getting to use them on you made it worth wild. He watched the rose bud penetrate the innocence out of you. Robes of her arousal leaked from her filled entrance and droplets from her thigh were overstimulated.

“Mhmmm such a pretty toy for a pretty doll herself the tears that spill from your eyes I want to frame it with the picture I take of you in my room”

“Ahhhh nooahh pleasmmhm I can’t take anymore”

Hoseok apprends his phone out of his pocket and pressed the red button to record. When the light flashes on her being ruined. Y/n cries his name, her saliva on the side of her mouth her pupils dilated from her euphoria mixed with high laced drugs. His rough skinned on your cheeks and hoseok enclosed on your face. Your plump lips puckered as his strawberry ones on your ebonies. His camera covers all the angles of your overstimulation. Your body displayed his sick pleasure. Your pain on camera. It would always be added to his collection with your naked shower pictures and your private masterbations.

“Please stop recording me, I don’t deserve this leave me a-a-lone”

Y/n stuttering out the last of her words. Hoseok held his cutting tool. He trailed the shiney point along your bottom lip. Your mouth met the cold blade. He pushed it in and punctured your tongue with a small womb manifesting. The metallic taste of your blood as the womb bleeds more and into your bottom lip. Y/n screamed,her womb opened and her blood spilled out onto her chin. He erupted in laughter at the red substance from your body.

“Awee hun you know the red of your blood makes it so inviting it compliments the fear you show me”

Hoseok intertwined his heart shapes on yours and his lips kissed the side of your mouth as a bloody print was left. the metallic of your blood became so welcoming for him. He loved how sweet it became on his bottom lip. He licked the remaining off his lips and then his fingers on his way to his belt.

The clink of his belt filled the air and y/n’s ears perked up from his pants sliding down.

W-w-what are you about to do”

“Ahh darling, you’ll see you’ll love the surprise from me”

When his boxers collided with the floor his length sprung free. Precum dripped down his shaft. Hoseok's fingers ran along him as he was covered in his own wetness. lining himself at your forbidden entrance. Hoseok shoving his member and splitting your folds open in the process. Y/n half muttered curses from her ebony lips.the pain of his enormous size in and out of her. The bottom half shot of pain with every jab picking up pace. Hoseok's swollen member inside you penetrates every inch of you. Y/n’s high pitch screams from his abuse.

Mhmm ah ah ahh oh my god w-w-hy Mhmm”

“Don’t speak baby I know I know you can’t talk properly it’s just a side effect of the drug”

Y/n’s legs on each side of his torso from the overwhelming thrusting he did on her. His thrusts are beastly and sharp. The drugs that flowed through your system clenched around him in a sluggish manner. Hoseok lifted up and tossed you around and then he slammed back into your hole. your back on his chest he kissed your neck leaving red and blue flesh wombs. y/n’s moans becoming whispers from the overwhelming screaming.Her voice gives out from the struggle of a ruthless man.

Awweee you can’t scream no more good you’re only seconds away from passing out thank you for giving me what's mine princess”

Y/n bounced up and down from the sharpness he held. Her hands in front of her gripping for dear life and her body shaking fast his digging furious y/n contracted as her orgasm was being pulled out of her. Her ears clouded with the wet sounds of his pounding. Your body quaked at his hits, your orbs to the back of your head, the white pupils appearing through, your body heated up at the temperature of your sweat filled body. The drugs gave themselves out and from your breath being slowed and lightheadedness took over. Your eyes dotted with spots of darkness as hoseok kept digging in yourself as y/n fell from lack of firmness on to him her mouth hung open as her body froze from him. He was still jolting in y/n his robes of his sticky substance in yourself.

“Aweee she stopped breathing what a wonderful site”

He tossed you back on the bed, your body paralyzed from the abuse that he calls love. the ruthless entercourse of him. He captures your necklace “y/n” and yanks it as it strikes his claw, his heinous orbs run over the necklace. A wink appeared on his eyelash from what he wanted and got.

smirking at the piece of his work he conjured, whispering to himself

“Sweet dreams i’ll be back for you my y/n”

His boot prints over to your bloody worn out figure, his lips on your forehead with a peck and y/n shivered from his wintery kiss.The night from him and the torment from your new sanity.

[prvtocol]

@badtrigger ( Vaas + Santiago in the driver’s seat ) : ❝ try anything and you’ll lose limbs. ❞ // vaas for bri, first week | wednesday starters ( accepting )

“T-try anything?” Breathy voice trembles like her hands which don’t know whether to keep lifted in surrender or fall and fold on her lap. The latter would be preferable, but even she knows not to make any sudden movements. Attempt to open the door whilst apologizing to strangers for hopping into the wrong cab was quickly diverted with the cold blade of a knife pressed under her chin, lifting and turning it with it. This heist is no mistake, nor is the scrambling of her comm by some external netrunner. Kidnapping a corporate representative, kidnapping her; is this really happening? Mind fears thinking of anything worse but there certainly is worse.

“I’m not even...armed for that and even if I was, I mean,” narrow shoulders give a pathetic scrunch in a half-lived shrug, a self-deprecating smile in tow. Sleeveless black evening gown leaves bare her skinny arms and décolletage (sans the diamond statement necklace), presenting no cyberware in sight. And even if she packed a weapon under the trim of her dress’s long skirt, she’d hardly be one to know how to use it. No, her only protection was a member of her security team who never made it into the car. Where is the event’s extra security? “I think you well and truly have the upper hand here.” Accented voice fumbles out, the positive spin attempted is strained, but at least she’s managing to form words.

Fright-widened eyes can’t help but shift back and forth from the larger man in front (who is not her driver) to the one giving orders with the blade. He stares her down with eyes glowing red like some sort of street demon. Sans those orbs, the car is dark; evening in a parking garage makes it even darker. Not until the car starts to move, overhead lights shifting, does she get a better glimpse of the mohawk, the leather jacket, the grunge; definitely not a competitor corps’ agents.

“Whoever sent you to do whatever you intend to do, I can pay much much more for you not to do it. Any price, you name it. Much better than entangle yourselves unnecessarily with Arasaka.”

[a-dusty-emerald]

Till it sinks in: Draco x Reader / Hurt-Comfort, Fluff Fic

A hurt-comfort fluff fic, with a slytherin Y/n being the girlfriend of the softie-who-hates-to-be-called-softie-so-he-bitches-all-day Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Where Umbridge uses her quill on you.

_____________________________________________

Dolores Umbridge, maybe the most hated teacher to set foot at Hogwarts, had a special dislike against anyone who disobeyed. And while that may be all teachers, not all teachers dismissed sobbing students from their detention. Every single student that got detention with Umbridge looked broken afterwards, but no one knew what she said to them; it was a mystery.

Professor McGonagall, for instance, made sure the students that misbehaved researched a wide topic for a few hours during the week, with the intimidating presence of her self. Professor Snape, on the other hand, locked students in the Potions classroom and let them out after the successfull brewing of a potion of his liking. Hence, it must be something similar.

Y/n strolled into class, her curls bouncing around the embroided slytherin crest of her robe. Defence against the dark arts was her worst subject, she only thought it was interesting when Professor Lupin taught it, and had done surprisingly well. Then, it was a hands-on, useful and fascinating module, while now, Umbridge followed the Ministry's policy to teach the students in a "risk free" way, by only reading through the theory. Not only were the lessons incredibly boring, the whole book was utterly useless.

"As if Voldemort will ask you the theory of Merlin's rule of categorisation of spells when he Avada-Kedavra's your ass", Y/n had scoffed when she saw the chapters. Draco had laughed, but told her that his father had owled him that Umbridge was a family ally, and hence he could not be out of line in her class.

"When did you become such a nerd?"

"Oh shut it Y/n", Y/n recalled.

She had also implemented some stupid rules, like "no touching between boys and girls, and a six feet distance at all times", and reduced the hours that students could go out of their dorms. While Dumbledore wanted the students to be at their dorms by 10pm, Umbridge thought that 6pm was acceptable.

As if.

Y/n entered the class, the only class she did not sit with Draco. Apparently, boys and girls could also not sit with one another, since they would eventually touch. And in a doomed world controlled by Umbridge, that was a sin.

Draco spotted his girlfriend entering the room, wearing a bored look on her face. He was not excited about DADA either. His parents might have told him that Umbridge was the best thing that could happen in this school, but he was not blind or stupid. The stuff being taught were useless and her teaching method was more boring than 5 hours of Divination with no breaks in his eyes. At least then, he could laugh at Trelawney. Now he just was supposed to stay silent and listen Umbridge reading the most basic book ever again and again.

He realised he got lost in his thoughts and was staring at Y/n longer than intended. She seemed bored as hell, but her eyes always intimidated him - yet, he would never admit out loud. Even the plainest of her looks had such passion beneath it, her deep dark orbs had a fire in them, surrounded by thick eyelashes, making her look coy and mischevious even when she was not planning to.

Y/n noticed him looking and smirked back at him.

"Stop staring, people might think that you like me" she mouthed silently to him. He grinned and shook his head. 'She is something else', he thought.

An unpleasantly familiar trotting of heels approached the creaking floor at the centre of the classroom, making students focus on the short, evil woman that was tormenting the school; Umbridge.

"Hello, my dear students" she smiled in a sickly manner. "Today we are learning about the theory of protection spells."

Y/n groaned, thinking other students would join her, however, it was this uncomfortable and awkward moment that everyone had decided to stay deadly silent, making her disapproving groan loud and clear to be heard.

"Is there an issue, miss Y/l/n?" Umbridge smiled in the evilest way she could.

"No, no, of course not. I always wanted to listen about the theory of protection spells." Y/n smiled in the fakest way possible.

"Is that irony I am sensing, Y/l/n?" Umbridge had a more serious look now, her smile not decieving anyone.

"Nope." She said, emphasising the "p" sound in her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she quickly glanced to Draco, who had a warning glare. "Don't aggravate her!" He mouthed. Y/n rolled her eyes, and unfortunately for her, Umbridge saw that, taking it as it was directed at her.

She scrunched up her nose and stomped her heel lightly on the floor, when she exclaimed: "Detention after class, miss y/l/n! That attitude of yours is no match for a young witch!"

Draco did not know why everyone was saying Umbridge's detention was horrible, he had heard she only requested some lines. Even so, her detention had gained a horrible reputation, and he didn't like it one bit that his girlfriend would be the one going there.

Even so, he was angry at her, he had warned her so many times. She was such a brat every time she spoke to Umbridge, when he had told her that every student that was leaving her detention was crying.

The DADA lesson had finished, when Y/n saw Draco stomping towards her, stopping around the 6 feet limit, keeping his distance.

"Why do you never listen?!" His angry hissing voice aggravated her even more.

"I rolled my freaking eyes, Draco, chill."

"You were sarcastic. You know you were. Are you happy now?" His glare was piercing her soul.

"I am not, actually. I would prefer no stupid rules, but I guess my boyfriend is too much of a wuss to think for himself and see how ridiculous Umbridge is."

"She just wants order. Besides, its temporary!" He half whispered, half yelled.

"Sure. Tell that to yourself to feel better, darling." Now she was mad at him. "Now excuse me, I have a detention to go to." She closed the gap between them - breaking the rule- just to bump on his shoulder angrily, and stomped past him, going to detention.

"Fine! I don't give a fuck, then!" She heard her boyfriend's voice. She knew he didn't mean it at all, but she silently prayed he changed his mind after her detention, he had an hour to think by himself after all. She was hoping for an apology.

Y/n lightly knocked on her door, listening to Draco's advice for once. She should be polite, calm and collected no matter what she said to her. She couldn't risk an expulsion. Umbridge's sickly laugh was heard. "Come in, y/l/n."

Y/n opened the door, fighting back her urge to laugh or roll her eyes. Her least favourite colour, fuchsia pink, was plastered everywhere, cats trapped on the walls, and a heavy, sickly, sugary aroma filled her nostrils, she did her best to keep her pokerface.

"Sit", the teacher ordered. "You will do some lines today, Y/n."

Relief passed through her. That wasn't that bad. She grabbed a piece of paper and moved to grab her quill, when the fuchsia toad in front of her stopped her. "Oh no, dear. I'm afraid you wont need that." She smiled, and handed her a large black feathered quill from her own collection. "Use this, please. It is one of my favourites."

Y/n grabbed the quill and moved again to reach for her ink. "Oh, silly me, I forgot." She heard the professor giggle. "You won't need any ink, dear."

She looked at Umbridge confused, her tamed eyebrows furrowing to her words. Still, she went with it. She grabbed the quill and before she started, Umbridge directed her "you shall write the line: I must not be arrogant." Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"How many times, Professor?" She said.

"Hm... let's just say... till it sinks in." Umbridge giggled once again, sipping her tea.

Y/n scoffed silently and started writing the lines, red ink magically appearing on paper. Her left hand was uncomfortable the whole time, but she ignored it. As soon as she finished the first line, though, the discomfort became a burning sensation, and hurt so much, like someone was creating small cuts in her skin. She looked at her hand to see what was going on, only to see the line she wrote engraved in her hand.

'You evil bitch' Y/n thought.

Every time she would rewrite the sentence, it was like the invisible knife digged deeper and deeper in her skin, twisting at each twist of the quill. She looked at Umbridge with teary eyes, a silent plea to stop this torture. Blood was seeping out of her wound uncontrollably now, staining her robe. Umbridge just glanced at her and said "one more page."

Through silent tears, a wrecked bloodied hand, trembles and gritted teeth, she finished her torture without making a sound. She excused her self, said goodbye to the professor, and closed the heavy door behind her, exhaling with a trembled sob escaping her lips. An exhale that she was holding for an hour.

She contained her tears and hid her hand from plain sight. She did not want to worry anyone, and she sprinted with all the energy she could muster to the dungeons. She just wanted to wash it off, wrap it in a clean cloth, and have a good cry.

As she was approaching the dungeons, it dawned on her: she could run up to Draco there. What should she do? On one hand, the thought of making him feel bad enticed her, she was still mad about his behaviour. On the other hand, she knew he meant no harm, and that he would make her start a legal war with Umbridge. She really didn't want to do anything right now, as much as she hated her guts.

She hid her hand better, wiped her eyes, took a few deep breaths and prayed that her boyfriend was not in the common room, as she opened the door.

Unbeknownst to her, Draco was waiting restlessly at the common room all this time. He didn't like the fact they fought before, he hated not being on good terms with Y/n. He didn't think he was entirely on the wrong though. 'Maybe if she listened to me once in a whi-'

His thoughts came to a halt when he saw a trembling Y/n enter the common room. Her eyes were red and glassy, and she was crouched in a weird position. He instantly forgot everything he was thinking of and sprinted towards her. When her eyes fell on him, she inhaled sharply, sttaightening her posture. He was terribly worried and she could feel it.

"Darling?" His soft voice was music to her ears.

Her eyes avoided his, refilling with tears just from his worried voice.

"I-I need to go to my room." She said with a lowered gaze.

"Tell me what's wrong please-"

"I thought you didn't give a fuck." Her voice was low when she said it, her teary eyes finally meeting his. She did not mean to snap at him, but everything was too much.

He finally locked eyes with her now, the emotion he saw in her overtaking him. He pursed his lips and looked down.

"I'm sorry. You know - baby you know thats not true. I want to know what happened. What did she say to you that made you cry? You don't cry easily, I know that. If you want I'll report her!" He was frantically searching for her gaze again, his grey irises full of concern.

"She said nothing bad to me. She instructed me through my lines." She avoided his gaze once again.

He lowered his gaze as well, and broke the -for once- uncomfortable silence, his voice slightly broken.

"Do you not trust me?"

His words echoed in her head. She did. She did with her life. She could not stay mad at him, no matter her anger. "I do. I'm sorry, I'm a-a bit of a m-mess, i'll tell you, j-just give me a few m-minutes..."

His hand grabbed hers to pull her into an embrace, to hold her close, to calm her. As soon as his hand grasped her own, though, a strong wave of stinging pain shot through her, a hissing sound escaping her lips as she yanked her hand away. She was holding it close to her heart, a few hot tears escaping her eyes. There was no escape now.

Draco looked at her wide eyed, a blank expression of confusion mixed with worry resting on his features. "What-"

He looked down on his hand. Blood.

He inhaled sharply. Blood? His heart was pounding in his chest now, his fury for Umbridge boiling. What exactly happened in her detentions?

"Darling." He spoke. His voice was low and steady, and Y/n could swear she could hear her own heartbeat. "Your hand. Please." He extended his own to signal her to give her hers. Slowly, she put her bloodied palm on his own.

"Did she do this?", he hissed angrily. Y/n nodded but winced at his tone, not ready for facing an angry Draco. He saw that, and his features calmed down.

He grasped her shoulders carefully, gently pulling her in a hug, lightly kissing her forehead and letting his lips linger there. He tilted her chin up, pressing a quick peck on her lips.

"Im not mad at you". He said steadily, to show he meant every word. "I'll kill her, honestly" he mumbled, as his eyes examined the wounds.

"I must not be arrogant?!?"

He felt his anger rise again, as he managed to read the cuts that were filled with blood.

"She h-had a black quill. I would write on paper and it would transfer the letters in m-my hand. Must be c-cursed." Y/n said between small sobs.

His one arm cradled her head and she felt him moving the other one on her waist, urging her to move. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up. I'll send a letter to my father. She will be out of her position tomorrow."

Y/n's eyes widened "No n-no I-"

Draco didn't let her finish "Y/n, I love you but please shut up."

For the first time in a while, Y/n giggled, music to Draco's ears.

He took his time being extra gentle on her wound, making sure it is clean, before putting a few healing spells on it, muttering apologies whenever Y/n would wince.

"Tomorrow your hand will be good as new. Trust me."

"I trust you Draco. Thank you."

His eyes looked up from her wound, and Y/n was sure she could melt. He had the softest gaze ever. They fell asleep in each other's embrace, soft kisses taking away the pain.

The next morning, Y/n could hardly stiffle a laugh at the annoucement of Umbridge being suddently fired. She turned at her boyfriend, who looked smug as ever.

His eyes glimmered and his eyebrows wiggled with smugness, as he said:

"She should not have been that arrogant. Guess karma is a bitch." He shrugged.

That Malfoy boy was your everything and you knew it.

FEEL FREE TO LIKE AND SHARE!! Feedback is always welcome, love you all!

[hereliesanotherfic]

MtP: Little Tease

Ship: Albert James Moriarty x Reader Show: Yuukoku No Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot) Rating: Pg 13?? Warnings: Teasing, flirting, suggestions Prompt: “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

______________________________________

You let out a soft yawn as you headed towards your living quarters in the manor, the Moriarty Manor to be exact. It was a long day of basic duties, but it never bothered you, quite the opposite- it was a pleasure working for the Moriarty men. William, Louis, and Albert were all incredibly generous, especially Albert. Over the couple years you have worked for them, he grew incredibly sweet towards you. He’d allow you lifts home in the carriage when out in the town, he’s aided you in the kitchen while you cooked or did the dishes, he allowed you some days off here and there just to rest. Not to say him or his brothers didn’t do this with other servants, but you and the other help noticed Albert did it most often for you.

But when he’s been alone with you, it’s been a bit more.

Moment One:

“Master Albert!” You exclaimed stepping out of the tailor shop, his carriage parked in front with him standing outside it.

“Hello (y/n),” he smiled softly. “I noticed you about town and wondered if you were finished? We could go home together,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as velvet. You choked down the frog in your throat, his choice of words made you sound more intimate with him in public which made your pulse race in embarrassment…or…excitement? Nevertheless, you nodded.

“That’d be nice! Thank you, kindly Master Albert!” You smiled, following his wave to come towards the carriage. The driver took your tailored dress and stowed it away and you stepped into the vehicle. Your heart bumped as you felt a light graze on your lower back as you hopped up. He was spotting you while you stepped inside, he probably didn’t mean to touch you. Albert stepped in after and took a seat besides you. It was a bit odd to sit next to him, but his presence was oddly comforting too.

“You know you do not have to call me Master, (y/n)” Albert spoke, his emerald eyes turning to contact yours.

“…I know you’ve said it before…though it feels too strange to say it while in town…”

“Do you think I have not noticed you still do not call me Albert at the manor as well?” You broke eye contact and bit your bottom lip, but he knew he got you before that. “I’d like to hear it.”

You slowly looked back up to him, confused by his request. “Wh-what?”

“ ‘Albert’,” he grinned slyly at you, closing the distance between you two a little bit. You heart started banging against your chest and you felt your cheeks flush a bit. The space in the carriage was small, the distance between you both was now small, and there was no way out from his eye contact. Albert tilted his head slightly. “Please?” Oh, he was absolutely trying to kill you with kindness (and your internal crush on him). You swallowed a bit heavy.

“…A-…Al..bert…” You said his name slowly, the foreign feeling of no honorifics was strange, but it also left a good tingly feeling on your tongue and in your heart. You saw his smile grow large and pure as he sat back into his seat properly.

“That made me happy, (y/n), thank you,” he said, staring out the window now. It took a moment for you to take your eyes off him. You didn’t think that’d make him so happy.

Moment Two:

“Preparing for our guests tonight (y/n?),” You glanced up from your cutting board to see Albert standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in his clean white button-up and blue slacks. For a moment, you wondered where his jacket was, but the way his shirt hugged his figure, you were glad it was missing. You looked back down to the pepper you were cutting before you mind and eyes began to wander too far.

“Yes sir, there’s a lot to do before they arrive.”

“Ah, then I am sure I can be of assistance!” He stepped to the closet and pulled on a fresh apron.

“Master Albert, you don’t have to worry yourself with that, I have plenty of time.” He stepped over next to you on your left side as he finished tying the apron, pulling over another cutting board that was on the table.

“It’s no worry, if anything I am sure this will be enjoyable to cook with you.” Albert picked a clean knife from the rack, so thankfully he missed your light blush. “What else do we need to chop?”

“Uh, some onions are next, they are on the right side of me under the counter,” you stated, motioning your head to the side. Albert nodded as he stepped behind you and leaned down to reach for the onions. Suddenly, you felt his large, left hand placed firmly on your waist, which caused you to feel his balance shimmy. To catch himself and pull himself straight up again, he pulled up directly into you, his chest flush against your back, hand still on your waist, the bag of onions in this other hand. You could feel his breath just ghosting over your neck and ear, it was so light but it was there. “A-Albert?!” You quietly exclaimed in the moment, staring in random spots on the table to try to gain some sanity.

“I’m sorry (y/n),” Your body tensed as his breathy words breezed over your ear—when did his face get that close?! “I slipped, I’ll be more careful,” he finished. With that, he stood besides you again and began chopping onions like nothing happened.

--

It was small events like that, but your heart was about to explode every time. So at this late hour, the last person you expected to see outside your living quarter was Albert Moriarty, standing beside your door.

“M-master Albert?” You questioned, gaining his attention, he looked up from his thoughts and smiled to you softly.

“(Y/n)…” He hummed. Albert’s eyes glanced you from head to toe, and very subtly licked his bottom lip. You missed both of those. “I’d like to have a word with you, but I figured you’d be tired from the long day, so it’s best to speak inside.”

“Oh…okay, yah, sure,” You nodded quickly and stepped over to the door to unlock it. You didn’t think there was anything else to do, but the idea of Albert in your room sent you down a roller coaster of emotions. He requested to speak with you privately in your room, you were a person of no place to say no, even with the Moriarty generosity. You pushed the door open and stepped aside for him to walk in. Albert looked around your room, simply decorated, the queen bed was nicely made, curtains open and a soft lilac candle burning on a small desk you had. Closing the door, you slowly walked up to him while he was observing. “What can I do for you Master Albert?”

“ ‘Al-bert’,” he looked down to you, an amused smile on his lips. You eyes widened for a moment before glancing away again.

“I..I can’t get use to it sir, you’re of a nobility family, I’m just here to serve you no matter the generosity you share. I still have to respect you.”

“Respect isn’t solely based on a title, I know well that you hold my brothers and I in high regards,” the brunette confirmed, turning to fully face you. “However, I really want you to call me by my name (y/n).” Your cheeks flushed a light pink, hoping that the light of the candle in the room and low moonlight weren’t enough for him to see. He was only two feet away though…

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” Your voice was hesitant, and he caught that. He let out a little chuckle.

“No, I understand how it will take some time to get use to that. I came for another reason.” You stared up at him, Albert was thriving on your full, undivided attention. He wanted your (e/c) to stare at him all the time, your voice to play its tune all the time, he had fallen for you a while ago, but you never seemed to notice the small attempts he made. Or, what he truly believes, was that the social hierarchy made you believe he couldn’t be attracted to someone ‘like you’. And the more he observed you, the more he knew he was right, and you were just afraid to openly fall for him. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Your heart immediately smashed against your chest at that request, and now you couldn’t stop your face from turning as red as a tomato. Did he really, I mean REALLY, just request to sleep in your room tonight? His green orbs continued to stare warmly at you, waiting for an answer. In truth, Albert was loving how red your cheeks were, how flustered such a simple request got you. He knew you liked him, but he wanted you to admit it for yourself and not be afraid of others stupid opinions.

“(Y/n?)?” Albert spoke, stepping slightly forward and tilting his head closer to you. The proximity snapped you out of it and you jumped back slightly.

“Ahh-hh,…um…isn’t there-..I mean…b-but there are…” Your brain tried to think of multiple reasons at once why he shouldn’t and scrambled them all out at the same time. Albert let out a small laugh.

“(Y/n), please relax. The guestrooms are taken by Moran and Fred right now, and I could never ask such a favor of another servant.” He stepped close to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and guide you to look at him. “You and I know each other well, you’ve worked here long. We trust each other. I’d prefer to share a room with someone like you.” His free hand reached up and brushed the hair away from your face as you stared at him in awe and disbelief. That hand joined in cupping you free cheek as the distance between you two grew smaller.

“Please?” Albert spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes half lidded as he stared into yours. You could feel his breath on your face as the gap got smaller. You internally panicked. Wherever this was going it couldn’t be good. It just couldn’t—he was a noble, the head of the Moriarty family! Sharing a room, no honorifics, aiding you, it couldn’t mean anything good for you. You had to cut it off…move…MOVE DAMMIT!

The voices screaming in your head all stopped the moment you felt his lips press to yours. Albert’s lips were incredibly soft, his fingers grazing your cheeks as he held you gently. It was light against you, his lips nicely encasing your top lip. He barely separated your lips as he turned his head slightly to the other side and kissed your bottom lip with a bit more firmness. The cologne he was wearing was aiding your high, it let out scents of soft sandalwood, some amber and something in it gave it a bit of a musky scent. For a kiss that only lasted under a minute, it felt like 10 years just went by before he pulled his lips off, hovering from your face at only two inches. It was then you realized you closed your eyes, because opening them to see Albert smiling softly sent you to heaven.

“Albert…” you barely whispered, staring at him in awe. The fact that he kissed you and broke so many social standings (again). Albert’s smile changed into this larger grin.

“You said it,” he gleamed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb, glancing at your lips thinking when to go back in for more. But he wanted to give you time to understand he was sincere.

“S-said what?”

“My name…” He rested his forehead against yours, staring lovingly into your (e/c) orbs. “I care too much about you to let something as trivial as social status stop me from telling you. And I am happy I was able to show you too.” You noticed Albert’s cheeks were dusty pink which made you smile a bit and giggle. “What?” He chuckled lowly.

“Nothing…” You muttered, glancing down at your feet. You would have never believed it if anyone else told you Albert cared for you. You still weren’t one hundred percent sure to believe it. But because of your strong love for him, you couldn’t fake the happiness you felt from his words. He was scaring away your insecurities and fears one action at a time. One word at time.

“Cute,” he hummed and kissed your forehead. “You can go change and prepare for bed, I’ll wait for you.” You felt one of his hands hold your own, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand.

“Okay...but this stays between us for now and you leave before the others wake,” you stated, your cheeks still a bit pink from the kiss and confession. If he was truly to stay with you the night, you were worried about the rumors that could spread, but so long as he left before other servants woke, you figured it’d be fine.

“Of course, my darling,” Albert nodded and watched you turn to head towards the ladies room. He had been in his robe and prepared to sleep well before he arrived at your room, so all he had to was wait. When you returned out of your bathroom, Albert had already made himself comfortable in your bed, the sheets covering half of him and pulled open ready for you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, you never thought you’d be sleeping with Albert, literally. You took a quiet, deep breath and walked over to the bed and set yourself into it, pulling the covers over you, blowing out the night candle right after. He began to lower into the bed and sheets and you followed in motion. Before you got too comfortable he spoke to you. “Good night, (y/n),” Albert’s voice hummed right next to you, causing a tingly feeling in your body.

“..Good night...Albert,” you replied softly, cheeks flushing and quickly turned on your side, your back facing him. You heard him chuckle and felt the bed shift as he got comfortable too. And when you woke up, you found his arms wrapped around your waist, your back to his chest and his soft breathing in your messy bed head hair. It was so comfortable...it was worth the risk of getting caught.

__________________________________ A/N: I had fun writing this, these gentlemen are adorable to write for! I’m just getting random inspiration off prompts right now, but if you have any ideas I may certainly write them too!

[hopeamarsu]

Close Shave #1 - Frankie Morales

Frankie Morales x reader 

Word count: just shy of 2k

Warnings: Straight razor shaving. I guess it could technically be counted as knifeplay, so just to be on the safe side I’ve marked it down. Some James Bond quotes are lifted from the movie Skyfall.

And yes, there’ll be another piece with Clyde later on. Because these two men have my heart and I will not be able to choose. Lol.

Ever since your visit to the antique store with Frankie on a sunny Sunday afternoon, you hadn’t been able to get the set out of your mind. First off, the wood case was beautifully crafted; despite the time passed it still looked shiny and all the metal parts worked well, despite aging and darkening. It had called you from the corner, sung like the sweetest canary, and you had been unable to resist. You marveled the feel of the smooth wood as your hand caressed the corners, admiring the craftsmanship. 

Once you had opened the case, you had been sold. The beautiful straight razor with gold and copper caps, the fluffy brush with a casing for cream, the leather strop and paste box all looked pristine. Well, the strop had obviously been used before, but it still looked in wonderful condition. You could still smell a hint of the musky beard oil that was once kept in its own place within the box, the woodsy and earthy tones hitting your nostrils as you peered in for a closer look.

It had only been the steep price that had made you leave the shaving kit there. But you still had thought about it until long after dinner and as you got ready for bed that you knew you had to get something like that for Frankie. 

After some intense browsing and comparing later, you had finally placed an order for a straight razor kit, some additional oils and moisturizers and they had arrived neatly packaged this afternoon. You had taken the day off work in order to prepare. Preparing meant countless Youtube videos on the subject, practicing the use of the straight razor on air and on balloons you had slabbed some shaving cream on. 

You had also transformed your master bathroom into an oasis, with dimmed lights and one of the dining chairs sitting in the middle of it all. There were lit candles, sheets and towels in the dryer to keep them warm and a small pillow sacrificed for the occasion was sitting beside the sink, ready for use. 

You had a selection of bottles next to the pillow; a small moisturizer, a bottle of beard oil that carried a sandalwood, vanilla and bergamot scent (something you thought he would appreciate) and a little bowl with shaving cream already ready. The piece de la resistance had a prized place on a small side table you’d dragged into the bathroom.

Now you just needed the man of the hour, one Francisco Morales.

You knew he had no flights today so he should be home shortly. Maybe you’d roped Will and Benny into making sure there wouldn’t be any Friday happy hour gatherings but you would never tell. And neither would they if they wanted you to cook for them the next time boys night was at your house. 

Right on cue, you heard the truck pull up and you took the moment to gather one of the sheets and two towels from the dryer, while you waited for him to enter. 

“Hermosa? You home?”

“I’m in the bathroom, babe! Would you come and help me for a moment?”

Was it sneaky to lure him in under false pretenses? Maybe, but getting him in here would be a challenge otherwise. And you didn’t want him wandering around the house and picking up on the missing items. 

Two loud thumps followed your question and you knew Frankie’s boots were off and socketed feet carried him towards your bedroom. Some shuffling around the bed and a question rang out.

“What’s this, hermosa?”

“Please put them on and come in. I have a surprise for you. Oh! And leave the cap behind too, thank you.”  You had laid out a pair of sweatpants and his softest possible T-shirt on the bed, wanting to extend the comfort as far as you could. You pressed play on your phone and smooth classical music began to play from the bluetooth speakers. It was set on top of the toilet, far away from any water sprays. 

You heard him shuffle in the bedroom, no doubt obeying your wishes and you started to swirl the shaving cream in the bowl with the brush, making it as fluffy and airy as you could. 

The door to the bathroom opened and you were greeted by your boyfriend in his grey sweatpants, his white t-shirt and dark curls framing his face. The hair was mussed up, no doubt because of his tendency to keep the hat on at all times and this must’ve been his attempt at ridding himself of hat hair. He looked adorable as the curls hung around his forehead and over his ears all messy. His dark brown eyes were open and curious as they took in the scene and you smoothed down your own t-shirt anxiously.

“Sweetheart… What is all this?” He whispered, the awe clear in his voice. 

“Come, sit down,” You took his hand, placing the bowl back on the counter as you pulled him closer. A small kiss was placed on him by your lips and you pushed him gently towards the chair. As he sat down, you placed the small pillow under his neck, urging him to relax into it. The pillow would certainly help his position in the long run. 

“Remember that antique store a couple of weeks back?” You spoke as you draped the sheet on top of his chest once he was settled. With Frankie’s affirmative hum, you opened the tap and let water run, trying to find the perfect temperature. 

“I didn’t tell you this at the time, but there was this gorgeous antique shaving kit in the back, strops and brushes and all in tip top shape. It got me thinking that I wanted to do a little something to pamper you and I bought a modern-slash-antique-looking set. I want to give you a shave.”

As you spoke, you lathered your hands under the water, ridding them of their coldness before wetting two small makeup towels to run across his face. The surprised gasp that left his lips betrayed he hadn’t been expecting that. 

You got into the rhythm of things, wetting his face with long strokes, allowing the warm towels to soothe his skin and soften it. Frankie’s eyes fell closed as the up and down strokes lulled him. After that, you squirted some cleanser into your hands, rubbing them together.

“I’m going to clean your face real quick, before we get into the shaving part. Do you want me to leave something or would you prefer clean-shaven?” You murmured, keeping your tone low to make sure he wasn't disturbed. 

“Whatever you like hermosa,” came his reply, a sleepy mumble that made you smile. Frankie worked so hard sometimes, taking care of his baby girl on the weekend she was with you, you and your relationship, his sobriety and the copters back in the hangar. 

After Colombia, he and the Miller brothers had joined forces, opening up a business together. They combined self-defence classes and survival training and business was good. Once Frankie had gotten his licence back, they often took their students training in the mountains, testing the limits and allowing for them to train first-aid skills on the wilderness too. 

It was honest and hard work. You knew how much all of them loved it and they were hopeful that Santi would join them as well once he was able, bringing the boys together once more. But the physical aspect of the job, including the maintenance of the planes, did take a lot out of your man, so to offer him this after a long week felt really good. And judging by his blissed-out state in the chair as you swept the lather into his skin and beard, he was enjoying it too. 

Round and round the brush went, all along his jaw and cheeks. You made sure he was well covered in the cream before you stepped back a little, taking the small steel knife into your hand. 

“Cut-throat razor. How very traditional.” 

The quote slipped your mouth quietly as you admired the blade in your hand. Frankie’s eyebrow lifted but a hand on his shoulder eased it down again. Taking a deep breath, you let the blade touch his skin and waited for a beat. When there was no resistance on his part, apart from his hand finding its way to your hip as a grounding place, you let it slide across the lathered skin and stopped about an inch from his jawline. After all, there was something in a man with facial hair, especially if that man was Frankie.   

“Sometimes the old ways are the best,” You couldn’t help yourself, letting the next line fall down as the blade lifted from his skin. The motions repeated themselves, both of you getting lost in the moment. The music faded in the background, Ludovico Einaudi’s calming notes becoming only a memory as you watched the blade move and turn the cream around, revealing smooth skin beneath. Each motion was followed by a swipe on the towel to make sure the blade didn’t dull in the middle of the session. It felt almost like a dance, your breaths the only sound left.

You moved, he stayed still. He moved, you stayed still. Back and forth, like the steps of a complicated dance. 

You didn’t know how long it took, shaving his face, but when there was only the small part left in the middle of his throat, you felt him gulp. 

“Keep still,” You admonished him slightly, tipping his face backwards, his skull digging a little deeper into the pillow that separated it from the cold marble of the sink. “This is the tricky part.” The final swipe was almost tantalizingly slow as you dragged it upwards to meet his chin. The trust he placed in you that moment made you feel powerful. It felt like something settled upon both of you as you lifted the blade from his skin for the last time.  

“Now that’s better,” You breathed out, as you watched him tip his head forward and open his eyes. The dark pools drilled into yours, the arousal and relaxation dancing a tango within, battling for dominance. How you wanted to keep watching it, enjoy how the candlelight reflected from the dark orbs but there were still steps to take before you could. You held his gaze for a moment, before lifting a towel from the counter to wipe off any excess cream left behind. 

“Did you…”

“Shh, I’m not done with you yet, mi amor.” Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly to him. Frankie nodded, the movement barely there but still visible. He relaxed back, allowing you to rub some oil into his beard and some moisturizer into his skin. Frankie’s eyes slipped close once more and you took the moment to really admire him and the neatly trimmed beard in full. 

“All done,” A whisper in the air as you trailed his regal nose with your fingertip. His eyes remained closed but his hands grabbed your waist to tuck you into his lap. Slowly, the eyelids opened and lashes fluttered as Frankie peered into your eyes. The relaxation had won out, but there was still a small fire simmering behind that. 

“Did you quote James Bond to me?” He muttered, letting his left hand trail up your spine. 

“You know how I like that scene.” You shrugged. 

“Mhmm… Will you allow me to recreate some other scenes from those movies?” There was a playful edge to his voice as Frankie’s hand rested on the back of your neck. You leaned closer, breaths mingling, as you let a sliver of air between your lips. 

“Go right ahead, mister.” 

Tagging @clydesducktape​ @wayward-rose​ @themuseic​ @miraclesabound​ @clydesfavoritegirl​ @a-true-janian-reply​  @10blurredsmoke10​  @caillea​ @mind-p0llution​ ​

[zodiyack]

Good Intentions with Bad Outcomes

Requested by anon: Could you write for shelby sis who fights with tommy and in his anger he says something really hurtful to her and she leaves. Tommy doesn't take it seriously cause he thinks she'll be back soon anyways but she stays way a couple weeks because she had to hide from someone? and when she comes back everyone is angry at first till they realize that something's off with her and she tells them later on? With a fluffy family end? Sorry if it's too specific:)

Pairing: Tommy + Shelby!Female!Reader, Shelby & Gray family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Swearing, angst, reader being best friends with Esme that’s a warning and we all know it, fluff, smol sexual reference, mention of homophobia + abuse, mention of blinding; Peaky Edition™, slight straying from request(?)

Taglist:  @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain​

Tags just for this fic: @mzcrazy2​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

He snapped.

It was just a small argument, at first, but Y/n wouldn’t stop digging. She fought first, he tried to reason with himself, but he knew it was his fault. He was going to apologize, as soon as she dropped the act and came home.

He waited in a chair by the door.

Any moment now. Just a couple seconds and she’d come bursting through the door, admitting her defeat and accepting her brother’s apology, perhaps even apologizing herself.

He checked his pocket watch.

If not now, maybe, and preferably, before 4 am. Tommy grew tired with each passing moment. He knew Pol would kill him if anything happened to Y/n, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself either, so he told himself to sit by the front door and wait for her, but sleep just seemed far too important. It was something he didn’t get much, and it wasn’t like he could stop himself.

So he slept on the couch. Like a baby, might he add.

However, his awakening was not as peaceful as his sleep. Polly slapped his leg rather harshly with her glove. Her eyes were beat red and her heart was racing faster than the horses her and her family bet on. “Wake up, you bastard!”

“Whatever seems to be the matter, Pol?” He rubbed his eye sleepily and sat upright, but yet again was attacked by his aunt’s gloves.

“You know damn well what’s the matter!” Tommy gave her a look of confusion. “Your sister is missing, goddammit!”

He chuckled, loudly. His amusement earned him more attacks from the gloves as Polly glared down at him, “What the bloody hell do you think is so funny about Y/n being missing?”

“She’s not missing Pol, she’s too fucking chicken to run. Just, relax, alright Pol? She’ll be back in what, five hours?” Thomas smirked at his aunt before grabbing his coat and walking out the front door. He went on his way, walking back to his own home.

“Tommy! Like I’ve said, he’s just a friend!”

“Yeah? Just a friend? Look at him, he just wants to get in your knickers, Y/n/n!” He laughed with his older and younger brother, watching the boy, their sister’s age, flush red with eyes the size of saucers. He noticed his sister look away, equally embarrassed as her guest. “Is that what you are, huh Y/n? A whore? Look at that brothers, our baby sister’s become a whore!”

Y/n grunted and pushed past them, trying to get out of the room, but Tommy grabbed her arm. His teasing smile was long gone. “Y/n/n. Send. Him. Home.”

“You lost the right to call me that when you called me a whore.”

Weeks had passed. Still no sign of Y/n.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too! Whoring around with some kid-”

“Thomas! I’m not a fucking whore! You may keep your sanity by sneaking around with those women, but I can assure you, brother,” she spat the word with a certain venom to her tone, “none of the whores in the whole bloody fucking world could show you how much of a worthless, sad, piece of shit excuse for a brother you are. Lucky for me,” she leaned in, speaking through clenched teeth, “I’m no whore.”

Y/n grabbed her coat and ran out the door, flipping Tommy off in the process of her exit mission. The shocked expression lazily covered with a horrible attempt of a blank look on Tommy’s face was priceless. He never expected nor meant for it go this far.

That’s when she left. That’s when he laughed to himself and waited by the door, telling himself over and over that she was only kidding around. That she was going to come home.

It had almost been a whole fucking month.

He finally saw the truth.

She was either missing, serious about leaving, or had, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, died. And he was the one who had to break the news to his family. When he did, many different reactions were shared.

Esme, who held a close bond with Y/n, slapped Tommy with small “cat-fight” hits to his arm until John pulled her back. John refused to look at Tommy, full of his own guilt for not stopping the joke before it got too far. Arthur drank his sorrows away, but not before bowing his head in shame as well.

And as for Polly, she gave Thomas a disappointed, disapproving glare and hit his arm, similar to Esme, but with full force, figurative steam coming from her ears accompanied by the tears flowing from her brown orbs. The action spelled it out better than words could’ve. Not that she would’ve said anything about it anyways, as she currently wished to be on something, anything, worse than “not on speaking-terms” with her nephew.

They knew Y/n was at fault as well, but she wasn’t there at that moment, so Tommy was facing his punishment while they had their free time. Esme baked Y/n’s favorite Romani treats, the reasoning quite obvious when Pol and Ada had pointed it out,

“You’re going through a grieving process. She may not have died, for all we know, but you feel that you lost her, and it’s hurting you intensely.”

Some days, Ada joined in, baked her share, and brought them back to her house. Today, however, it was just Esme.

Or so she thought.

The feeling of unease washed over her. A chilly wind blew into the room. She’d had her fair share of the supernatural, but this presence felt alive. Esme’s hand reached for the knife before she spun around, dropping the blade at the sight in front of her.

“Y/n- what the bloody hell...?” Y/n tried to walk over for a hug, but only managed to get half way before Esme snapped back to her senses and hit her friend over and over again with one of her aprons. “Where” hit “Have” hit “You” hit “Been!?”

“Oh you know...exploring.”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you grew up in Birmingham, in fact, you’re still growing up, here, in Birmingham. So tell me. What’s wrong? If you decide not to tell me, just know that John’s sleeping upstairs, and don’t, for one second, think I won’t go wake his lazy arse up.”

“Oh yeah, sure, Esme, maybe get him to tell Tommy to get that stick out his ass, would you? I mean, it’s got to be painful with how far up there he makes it out to be.”

Esme frowned, remembering what Thomas told them all. “Oh hun... you should’ve told me and came over here! I’m sure John wouldn’t have minded, and if he would’ve... well that’s too bad for him, innit?” Y/n giggled softly and began to smile, causing Esme to cheer with joy. “See! Come, I’ll make you some tea!”

“Well? Where the fuck were you!?” Polly inspected Y/n for injuries, finding bruises along wrists. 

“Nowhere, I’m fine. I just fell into some trouble and, like Arthur taught me, won.”

Arthur chuckled proudly, “Attagir-”

“No. Tell us the truth, Y/n.”

“I am.”

Polly leaned closer to her niece. They held eye contact, Y/n could see the tears threatening to spill over her Aunt’s lower eye lids. She inhaled, preparing to speak, hesitated, to up the dramatic effect, and finally let a word free. “Liar.”

“To be fair Pol, she had been at my home for the past week-”

A gasp and a cough, both from Pol, sounded in the room from shock. “She what?” she drawled.

“My point is, Aunt Pol, my small home, all the little ones, there would be some points where she’d trip, ya know? Even Esme gets some bruises like that-”

“Mhm. It’s totally from the small house.” Arthur chuckled into his cup, snorting when Pol flicked him on the back of his head. “Anyways, she said it Pol, she’s fine. No broken bones, no bloody noses, John gave an explanation for any bruises, she’s fine.”

“I’m with Polly on this one. She didn’t seem all that well at our home, John, and she didn’t run around enough to get bruises. Sorry, love.” She winced apologetically at her sister-in-law.

Y/n shrugged and walked from the room, trying hard to keep the emotions inside. If she didn’t cry, they couldn’t know that she had lied. Not that it was any use, Pol was already onto her and her siblings were giving her suspicious looks.

Tommy followed his younger sister and closed the door behind himself. “Y/n/n. Are you alrig-”

She hugged him, tightly. Thomas could feel his shirt dampening from his sister’s tears. Y/n broke, despite her plan not to, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her sobs were painful for Tommy to hear. His protective and brotherly instincts kicked in as he processed the muffled cries of the voice belonging to the girl he watched grow up, the girl cared ever so deeply about, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tightly.

“Tommy... I couldn’t help him.”

“Who?” She looked up at him with sad expression. He remembered the night. He called his sister a whore for joking purposes and with the intent of preventing her from ending her night with a broken heart, it didn’t help that he was slightly drunk, and he didn’t realize she’d take it to heart. “I-”

“It’s alright, Tom, you had good intentions, they just didn’t have the best of outcomes.”

“Y/n/n, I shouldn’t have called you that, no matter my intentions.”

She hugged her brother again, both Shelby siblings unaware of the door opening and their audience that stood on the other side of it. “Tommy, you wanna know what happened? I was like you, had good intentions, but a bad outcome.”

“What’s this of bad outcomes?” Pol stepped forward, tears spilling over the brims of her eyes and a small smile upon her lips. Y/n began to cry harder, and Polly wrapped her arms around her after Tommy moved out of the way. She rested her head on Y/n’s and mumbled soft affirmations as her hand moved up and down her back soothingly.

“Tells us what happened, dear, from the start, okay?” Y/n nodded, separating from her aunt and sitting in the middle of her clan, who sat on either the sofa or a chair.

“The boy Tommy assumed was into me, was being abused. I was trying to help, prevent him from being hurt anymore than he already was. His father hated him because he... he likes boys. I figured, if I hung around, his father would think the opposite and leave him alone. But one day he slapped him, right in front of me. I got so mad, I- I- it was like I- like all I could see was red-”

“Deep breath, there’s no rush, little sister.” Arthur rested a hand on Y/n’s shoulder reassuringly, earning a kind and appreciative smile from the girl.

“Thank you, Arthur. I hurt his father, so I wasn’t lying about that part, but he got back up. Illia, the boy, helped me out of his house and ran with me. We got pretty far and ended up staying at a small abandoned cabin, a good place for us while we were in hiding. He managed to find a place with his grandmother out of the UK, who could care less about his romantic or sexual preferences in gender, and that’s when I started for home. We went our separate ways and our hiding was no longer necessary.”

“I have a question.” Ada raised her hand, in attempt of getting her family to notice her. Y/n nodded and awaited her older sister’s question. “If you were free from hiding...why didn’t you come home right away? Why’d you stay with John and Esme for an extra week?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too. We all thought you’d died, Y/n.”

“Oh...” She looked down, wiping away some of her tears, “I didn’t want you to get mad at me. Or have Illia hurt due to certain lovely trios attacking before thinking. He didn’t kidnap me, but if I came back after news of him fleeing Britain spread, you’d probably assume such.”

Polly sat beside her niece with a soft smile and pulled her into yet another hug. “It’s good to have you back. You’ve missed so much, and we’ve missed you. What do you say we eat dinner as a family today, celebrate your return?”

Ada walked over and joined the two women, wrapping her arm around Y/n as well.

“Get over here, all of yous. I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to hug all of us, right now it’s about Y/n-”

“Pol,” Arthur chuckled heartily, “We’re not gonna argue, we missed her too.”

Tommy was first to step up, stopping in front of Y/n. He pulled her into him, welcoming her into a warm hug, then Polly wrapped her other arm around Tommy, Ada mirroring her Aunt. Arthur found a spot, as did Esme and Finn. John muttered something along the lines of “to hell with it” and finally joined in on the family hug.

That night, they celebrated, just as Polly said. The girls exchanged gossip with Y/n about what she had missed, the boys teased her, with lighter jokes this time, and shared the news the girls failed to inform Y/n of. By the end of the night, everyone had passed out in the living room with smiles on their face, adults with alcohol in their stomachs, all apart from Y/n and Tommy.

“Tommy?” He grunted in response to his sister, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Tom paused, inhaling slowly. The entire time, he thought she was the own who owed him an apology, at least a small one. But he was the one who said the words. He was the one who watched her leave without chasing after her. “Don’t be. If anyone here should be sorry, it’s me.” He looked over to her, the siblings holding eye contact, “You’re not a whore, okay? I never should’ve said that, even if it was true or not, it wasn’t kind of me. I hurt you because I misread your friend’s intentions and-”

“Good intentions, bad outcome.”

“Y-yeah. But my intentions were not needed, Y/n/n. They were something I should’ve kept to myself, but I did it with Ada too, and now she and I have... well a relationship that’s not as strong as ours.”

“Tommy,” she knew what he was trying to say, “you could never ruin our relationship. We may fight, but at the end of the day, your my big brother.” She moved closer to him. “I look up to you, admire you, shit, I wish I was you sometimes.”

“You don’t want to be me, trust me.”

Y/n laughed. “You’re right, I don’t want to be you. I don’t think having a stick up my ass sounds the most comforting-”

“Oi, watch what you say, Miss Blinder, you’re messing with the rest of the world now.”

He tickled her, but stopped when she held up a hand and made a face. “Wait- Peaky Blinders..?” He nodded. “No- you aren’t- Tommy!” Thomas shushed his sister with a chuckle that matched hers, pure happiness in the Shelby home.

“Yep. You’re a Blinder now, sister.” He raised a shot glass, “May all your good intentions have greater outcomes.”

“No, actually.”

“What?” He stopped his hand before the glass could reach his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

She smiled at her brother, raising her own glass, “I prefer the good intentions with bad outcomes, after all, if this is the aftermath of a good intention and it’s bad outcome, I’d be more than happy to make sure all my good deeds had bad endings.”

“Careful there sister, one should be wise about how they phrase such a promise.” 

He didn’t believe in bad luck, nor God, or really anything, for all Y/n knew. That’s what he led others to believe- yet it was like he was warning her about the possibility of bad luck. Beliefs aside, his words were showing a hidden genuine concern to his sister’s.

“I suppose a few good outcomes are acceptable.” They clinked their glasses together and drank their drinks with matching smiles. 

It felt amazing to be back, even better to be back and offered with an opportunity to initiate revenge for Illia. Being a Peaky Blinder had many perks, like the infamous line that was known for being the first thing one hears after losing their sight.

The line that brought motivation to her good intention that could end with a very bad outcome for herself instead of the person she planned it for, had she gone through with it before being presented with the razor dawning cap. The line she’d finally be able to say. The line that could, should, and would be the last thing the evil bastard heard.

Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.

[sunflowersseemhappy]

Since Halloween is coming up, how about main 6 reacting to a werewolf! Mc?

Gods I’m a sucker for werewolves, I was torn between which kind of werewolf to use, I went with werewolves that just went from human to looking like a larger than normal wolf (under the full moon and during stressful situations). Highly intelligent but still quite wild and animalistic, a heritage earned through bloodlines the werewolf in question does not remember what happens that evening unless they have trained themselves to.

I had a bit of a block but I might come back to this over my Halloween holiday. But for now I hope you enjoy!

 Masterlist!

Asra

The type of magic affecting a werewolf is old and powerful, and is magic that Asra had never come across until he met you.

At first Asra believed it to be some extension of your usual magic, it was all he ever saw those first few months of getting to know you.

Slowly his curiosity faded, but...

Every full moon you would give half an explanation about closing the shop, and every full moon that primal magic would be assault his senses.

He grew to worry every full moon and the times you became so stressed you ran off and he didn’t see you for days.

The third full moon that passed Asra came to the shop, feeling that same primal magic raging inside, he couldn’t bear not knowing anymore.

He forces the magic seals on the door open and it slams shut and locked behind Asra, he can’t see anything for the darkness except...

Large unblinking eyes, level with his own and laser focused on his face, what lurked in the dark approaches slowly.

Growling as Asra’s magic produces an orb of light in his hand the creature strides toward him all the same.

Into the light of the spell Asra casts stands the wolf, twice as tall as any normal wolf and bathed in magic.

The same primal magic you exude. Your magic...

Asra can see it in your eyes, it’s you, you’re there.

You are the primal, wild thing of myth, a hushed whisper. A werewolf.

Asra reaches to caress your fur, and you let him, even keening into his touch as he scratches your chin with a wry laugh.

You’re unsure of what this means but Asra’s not afraid and that's the start.

Nadia

Truth be told you didn’t look like you belonged in the shop let alone the palace when Nadia first met you, in fact you seemed uncomfortable.

The only place Nadia saw you belong was the woodlands of the palace grounds, comfortable and in your element, belonging in that moment.

She preferred it like that.

One night, a full moon, you are caught out by time, realising too late your mistake and excusing yourself to the room Nadia gave you.

An hour later Nadia comes to check on you, for what reason there is none but a niggling at the back of her mind and the sound of a smash.

She’s in the room within a moment and in the dim light of the lanterns she sees the large shape struggling to pull it’s head from a top, your top.

All thought leaves Nadia and she dashes to grab the sword hanging from the wall, her hand encircling the hilt.

Just then she’s knocked down and to the side.

Large paws pin her shoulders and press her down, snarl ripping from the giant wolf’s throat as it towers over her.

Recognition flashes between the both of you and in an instant your paws are off her chest, propelling you toward the balcony where you glance back at Nadia staring at you from the floor.

She cries out for you to wait and like its a command to a obedient dog you pause, ears flicked back and whining.

Part of you wants to run from Nadia, ashamed but as she shakily approaches and calls your name you can’t bear to leave her like this.

Nadia’s hand breezes over your snout as she kneels and looks at you with silent promise.

You start to feel more comfortable in the palace after that.

Julian

Something about you made Julian extremely nervous, he liked you, maybe that was what made him nervous, but there’s something else to it.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, he had had plenty of people size him up the way you were doing so, or maybe it was because you complained about his alcohol breath when he had only had one drink.

Maybe its a magician thing, Asra always gives him those funny looks too.

Though that didn’t explain the breath thing...

The two of you are walking back to the shop that evening when you are cornered by men in the alley flashing knifes to your chests.

Julian doesn’t really think before he leaps to your defence, putting himself in harms way as the stranger leaps for you.

Blood rushes in your ears and you loose sense of the world, then it comes tumbling back behind new eyes and a wolf is leaping to Julian’s defence.

Julian watches the wolf knock one man into the canal, and for some reason he shouts a warning as the other stabs at the wolf. In a flash of teeth the wolf sinks its jaw onto the man’s arm and hurls him away.

Gone is the threat but when Julian moves the wolf lets out a startled snarl, halting abruptly at the warning Julian stares at the wolf. It stares back.

When it doesn’t move, Julian dares to glance behind him, you’re not there.

Despite the wolf Julian scrabbles to his feet and shout’s your name, the wolf’s ears prick up in response. Just like his own dog used to do when he called her name.

With more confidence Julian says your name again the wolf advances snuffling his face and sneezing when it smells the alcohol on his breath.

That is too familiar to be anyone else.

Muriel

When you first met Muriel he was struck by how comforting you felt, like Inanna and the forest, one and the same with both those things.

But you were still a person, not matter how comforting you are scars of the past take longer to heal.

But maybe that is how he came to trust you so quickly.

Its the first evening you haven’t bothered... come to visit Muriel in a while.

He’s trying not to care but you’ve always been so keen to spend time in the forest with him and Inanna and missing an evening must mean something has happened.

He tries not to think of it as he collects firewood under the full moon, Inanna snuffling at his heels as he does so.

The howl of a wolf has been calling across the valley, long and alone, each time Inanna has keenly listened whining under her breath.

A flicker of movement and there stands the biggest wolf Muriel has seen, standing silhouetted on a rock and looking straight at him.

Corse fur and sinewy limbs, a giant creature that stands almost to his shoulder. Inanna barks in greeting, her tail wagging as she trots over unafraid.

Muriel tenses as their noses meet, but there is no aggression or fight in the large wolf as if greets Inanna and then looks questioningly at him.

The gaze beckons him forth and Muriel approaches as the wolf leans to snuff at his face and nuzzles his jaw where his scar sits.

Like a kiss, your kiss, the one you use when you say hello or goodbye.

That means... things seem to make sense now, that comfort has been a part of his whole life because you are exactly the same.

You’re the forest, a wolf, a person. Everything he trusts.

Portia

Upon you meeting Portia she suddenly felt much smaller than usual, and for once she didn’t feel like making a snarky comment which was uncomfortable... but more so she was curious.

But she never found a reason to not trust you, or a reason for how uncomfortable you could make her feel sometimes.

Soon enough she accepted it.

Its early evening as you help Portia tend the garden, grabby little plants who underestimate the strength of humans pulling them up flail around.

You’re pulling at a particularly strong unmoving plant as you work but you could have sworn this one had had some vines protecting it earlier...

Portia turns at the sound of a yelp of pain to see you wrapped up in thorny vines, you wriggle as they pinch into your skin and let out a snarl.

So guttural and animalistic Portia halts from grabbing her shovel to help you and watches as your body changes in the grasp of the vines.

As your eyes change you look startled at Portia as she witnesses the arrival of the wolf inside, body growing so large the vines can no longer contain the wolf and its free.

Despite the thorns on the vines the wolf rips into them and digs up the plant in such fury that it flies from the soil.

When the wolf turns panting and bloody, Portia takes a step back, but seeing the blood and dirt and the exhaustion on the wolf... no your face she slowly approaches.

Her hand buries itself in your fur and you let out a low grumble, glancing to the trees as if looking for an escape.

It seems you both make each other feel small and for once its a good thing.

Lucio

To Lucio you exuded power and authority, more with your stance than anything else but he found it wildly attractive and intimating.

That’s enough to make Lucio feel like he has a type, but who knows you could work out unlike his former marriage.

But there’s more to it than that; you seemed not unlike the demons he had met and in the beginning there seemed to be some power to have.

A full moon sits bright in the sky that evening, your reminder of the clock ticking down and that you need to escape Lucio’s chatter.

But he keeps pulling you back to hang out in the garden, he’s engrossed in story upon story as you quickly excuse yourself, bolting into the forest.

Lucio thinks its some kind of game, but either way it can’t hurt to follow.

So he does racing after the sounds of your movement blindly and calling teasingly as he whips his head around to look for you.

And all of a sudden he walks into a glade and smashes into the body of something, he thinks it you and laughs before it dies in his throat.

A wolf glowers down at him, taller than him with a maw of sharp teeth and glinting eyes. Lucio stutters as it shakes out its fur and looks almost expectantly down at him.

Lucio stands and goes to unsheathe his sword but the wolf lets out a whine, pinning its ears and looking shockingly guilty.

But there’s something different about this beast, even Lucio knows that and... a glint of gold around the wolf’s paw.

It lifts it up as Lucio looks at it, a bangle of gold sits there. A gift he had given to only one person.

All of a sudden Lucio realised what made you so intimidating. 

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 86

Pepito has an awkward family get-together.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

Rebirth of the Antichrist

           Pepito hurries around the house, straightening things up, making sure everything looks clean. When that’s all done, he sits on the couch, constantly checking the time as his leg bounces impatiently.

           This is the first time in weeks he and Squee will be alone together. Just the two of them. Alone. In his house.

           He giggles like a schoolgirl. He’s so excited.

           There’s a knock on the door. Pepito leaps to his feet and throws it open. His big smile quickly falls into a look of disappointment.

           Standing on the front step is an unfamiliar teenage girl. She’s wearing a black and pink striped beanie over her long black hair, a spiked leather jacket over a punk band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and knee-high black boots. She’s also wearing black lipstick and eyeshadow. She smiles brightly at Pepito.

           “Um…can I…help you…?” he questions.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Pepito,” she says, “I’m Olivia; your sister.”            “My…what?” he exclaims, “I don’t have a sister!”

           “Well, half-sister, if you wanna be technical,” she clarifies, “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”

           “I’ve never heard of a half-sister before,” Pepito mutters in confusion.

         “I didn’t know about you either until not long ago,” Olivia says, “our dad is pretty secretive.”            “Our…dad…?” he questions and looks at her fearfully. “So…so that means-!”

           For a brief second, Pepito sees Olivia’s right eye light up red. Then a knife swings at her from behind. She lifts her hand and blocks the blade with ease.          

           “Squee!” Pepito gasps.

           Olivia looks over her shoulder, still holding the knife, and grins darkly at Squee, who glares back.

           “How rude of you to attack an innocent girl on the street,” she remarks.

           “No ‘innocent girl’ would be able to block my knife with their bare hand,” Squee retorts, “besides, I could sense your blood lust a block away.”      

           Olivia grunts with amusement and lets go of the blade. Squee points it at her threateningly. “Who are you?”

           “Olivia Diablo,” she states, “I already know you, Squee C. Or as you used to be known, Todd Casil.”

           Squee flinches like he had been slapped.

           Olivia smiles warmly and looks back at Pepito. “It was nice meeting you, big brother. I’ll see you around.”

           With that, she slips past Squee and skips down the road. Pepito and Squee glare after her, irked and nonplussed.

           “My…half-sister?” Pepito questions, “is she for real?”

           “I don’t know,” Squee replies, “but I know how we can find out.”

           He lifts his knife, the blade lightly covered in blood.

           A little while later, the Battalion is gathered in Zim’s lab. The Computer scans the blood on Squee’s knife and a bunch of information pops up on the big screen, including a school picture of the girl.

           “Amazing what you can learn from just a little bit of DNA,” Dib remarks.

           “DNA matches Pepito,” Zim reads.

           “How do you have my DNA?” Pepito questions suspiciously.

           “Questions!” Zim scoffs dismissively, “what’s more important is we learn who this girl is.”

           “Her legal name really is Olivia Diablo,” Squee reads off the screen. “She goes to school at Burnwood High in the South End. She’s fifteen, three years younger than us.”

           “Other than the fact that she’s the daughter of Satan, she seems like a normal girl,” Gaz comments.

           “So should we be worried?” Tak asks.

           “Definitely,” Squee replies, “I sensed nothing good from her.”

           “Okay, but, she is like…related to Satan,” Dib points out.

           “So is Pepito.”

           “But wouldn’t your senses toward him be kind of...biased?” Gaz questions.

           “That’s not…I mean…I’m not…he’s…” Squee stammers before huffing. “Look, she’s evil okay!”

           “Well, you know I’m not one to question your instincts, Squee,” Dib says, “but we really have no proof yet.”

           “But we have no proof she isn’t evil either,” Zim points out, “so everyone, keep your guard up. She knew Squee’s old name. Who knows what else she knows.”            The others nod affirmatively.

           Later, Dib drops everyone off at their homes with the Epic. Pepito walks up to his house and opens the door, sighing exhaustedly.

           “Hi, sweetie,” his mom, Rose, says.

           “Hi, Mo-AH!” Pepito exclaims with surprise when he sees Senor Diablo and Olivia sitting with her in the living room.

           “Hello, son,” Senor Diablo greets.

           “Hey, big brother,” Olivia grins.

           “Wha-you’re-why,” Pepito stammers with bewilderment. Then he awkwardly clears his throat and points to the kitchen. “Mom, can I talk to you?”

          Rose stands up and follows him out of the room. He faces her and points accusingly at Olivia. “Why!”

           “You’ve met her already?” Rose asks with surprise.

           “She showed up earlier,” he pouts, “ruined my date with Squee…”            “Your father just brought her over about an hour ago so we could meet her,” she clarifies.

           “You’re seriously okay with this?” Pepito asks, “look at her! She’s only like three years younger than me. That means she was born when you and Dad were still together.”

           “Whatever happened before doesn’t matter now; we’re already divorced,” Rose replies, “and I can’t be angry at her for having been born.”            “I guess,” he grunts, “but I don’t trust her.”

           “Now, now,” he tuts, “you just met her. So let’s be friendly and polite and have a nice visit, okay?”

           Pepito groans but follows her back into the living room. They sit on the couch with Olivia while Senor Diablo is in the easy chair.

           “So, Pepito, it’s been a while since we’ve talked,” Diablo says, “how are your powers developing?”

           “I haven’t seen anything new,” Pepito replies.

           “Have you been practicing?”

           “Not really. I’m quite happy with where they are right now.”

           “He’d prefer to practice his guitar than his unique powers,” Olivia remarks.

           Pepito side-eyes her with annoyance. “And what about you, Olivia? Do you have powers?”

           “I do,” she beams proudly, “Dad has been helping me develop them the last couple of years. Do you wanna compare?”

           “No thanks,” he replies curtly.

           “So the two of you are living together then?” Rose asks.

           “Yes,” Diablo replies, “I recently took Olivia under my wing. She was meant as a back-up plan after all, and since Pepito doesn’t wanna to fulfil his destiny, than perhaps Olivia shall.”

           “Yeah, that’s a great way to think of your children,” Pepito murmurs and stands up. “Um, will you please excuse me?”

           He exits the room and goes upstairs to his bedroom. As he closes the door, he grabs his cellphone and calls Squee.

           “Hello?” Squee answers.

           “I am literally in Hell,” Pepito says, “no, actually, I wish was in Hell. That would be more bearable than whatever is going on in my living room right now.”            “What’s wrong?” Squee asks wearily.

           “Dad brought over Olivia and now we’re all having some kind of family get-together,” he explains, “I think I am actually suffocating on the awkwardness. You gotta help me.”

           “What do you want me to do?”

           “Give me a reason to leave.”

           “What do you want me to say? Can’t you come up with something?”

           “Uuuuhhhhh,” Pepito groans as he strains his brain. “Oh, I know! I never did finish that science essay.”

           “What, are you serious?” Squee scoffs, “that’s due tomorrow.”

           “Perfect,” Pepito chimes, “I’ll tell Mom I need your help to finish it and get the hell out of here.”            “Aw, jeez,” he groans, “alright, come over.”

           “Yes! Be there soon.” Pepito hangs up and grabs his school bag before hurrying back downstairs. “Uh, Mom? I just remembered I have an assignment due tomorrow and Squee’s gotta help me, so I need to go.”

           “Oh, Pepito,” she sighs disappointedly, “alright, go ahead.”

           “Thanks, sorry, bye!” he waves happily as he rushes out the door. Olivia stares after him, unimpressed.

           Pepito hurries through the streets to Squee’s house. When he gets there, he sees him and Colton sitting on the curb. Pepito sits on the other side of Squee, grinning happily. “Sup, boys.”

           “Hey. Squee says you have sister now?” Colton questions.

           “Yeah, apparently I’ve had one for like fifteen years,” Pepito shrugs.

           “Ain’t that just the way,” he remarks.

           “Already, enough chatter,” Squee orders and points out at Pepito. “Seriously, finish your essay.”

         “Yeah, yeah,” Pepito nods as he takes out his notebook. “I mean, I have to start it to finish…”

           “God dammit, Pepito.”

           “Yes, god dammit, Pepito.”

           The boys look down the street at the voice, to see Olivia standing there.

           “What are you doing here?” Squee asks accusingly.

           “Is that her?” Colton questions, “she’s cute.”

           Pepito smacks his arm. “What?” Colton whines.

           “That’s still my sister,” Pepito snaps.

           “How sweet,” Olivia comments, “but I wanna make one thing clear. I haven’t decided to enter your life so we can have a loving sibling relationship. I only have one goal in mind. Your destruction.”

           “I mean, that’s just siblings,” Colton remarks.

           Olivia points her hand at them and it begins to glow black. Squee and Pepito grab Colton and dive out of the way just as she blasts an orb of energy at them.

           “Whoa!” Colton squeaks.

           “Colton, go inside,” Pepito demands.

           “Yup,” he nods and scurries into his house.

           “I wanna go inside too,” Squee groans exhaustedly.

           “Pepito, you have squandered the gift from our father,” Olivia states, “you have given up your destiny and chosen to become a rock star. You’re a disgrace to the name ‘Antichrist’.”

           “Destiny’s bullshit!” Pepito snaps, “I don’t know what Dad has said to you, but he’s brainwashed you! My life is my own and so is yours!”

           “You wanna know what Dad said?” she barks, “he told me to leave you alone!”

           “He said that?” he questions with disbelief.

           “Yes, but I disagreed,” she continues, “because unlike you, I view our powers as a gift and the fact that you barely use a fraction of yours to ‘protect the world’ is insulting. That’s why I decided to destroy you and your Battalion and then drench this world in darkness, as is my destiny!”      

           Olivia pulls off her beanie, revealing two small, black horns. They quickly grow in length to about two feet long as she throws off her jacket and black and red demon wings sprout from her back. She takes to the sky and points dramatically at Pepito and Squee.

           “Prepare yourselves and your friends!” she shouts, “for the true power of the Antichrist!”

           As she points her hands at the ground, the road splits open into a burning red chasm. She flies into it and it seals back up behind her, leaving Pepito and Squee staring at the road in bewilderment.

           “I told you she was evil,” Squee says.

           “It’s not like I didn’t believe you,” Pepito replies.

---

           Olivia strolls through the corridors of Senor Diablo’s mansion in Hell, to her bedroom. Inside is her computer displaying all of her surveillance footage and information on the Battalion and sitting in the corner is Carcas. He looks up at her as she sits at her desk.

           “So you revealed yourself to the Battalion,” he says, “now do we strike?”

           “That was just to stoke the flames a little,” Olivia explains, “we still need that artifact.”

           “So why can’t you get it?”

           “The Battalion is easy enough to handle. The problem is these three.” She displays a picture on screen of Johnny, Devi, and Tenna.

           “I know him,” Carcas growls.

           “They’re real wild cards,” Olivia comments, “if I wanna be sure to get that artifact without issue, I need to thoroughly distract the Battalion and these three.”            “I assume you have a plan?” he questions.

           Olivia grins as she faces him. “Carcas, are you familiar with the Multiverse Theory?”

[monaluxstrashblog]

#3 - Dearest Wish

This relates to my first prompt as it’s the same characters. Check out @raltiamod for more about the Elksni breifly mentioned - he’s a guardian too!

A man Wishes for the return of his dead niece

Duncan was certain the Ahamkara were, in fact, faeries. All the evidence was there. They were beautiful but terrible to behold in their true form. They fed on desire, twisting it to their own whims until their target was but a shell. If they did grant your wish, they took something from you - your luck, your grace, your happiness, or if you were very unlucky, your life. They loved riddles and word games, and were most often playful in their malignance. 

There were some differences. He’d never gotten one to count salt, they didn’t care about iron, and the little bastards could lie, and did so with abandon, which felt like some cosmic bullshit to him. They fey couldn’t lie because if they could lie then they could just do whatever they wanted, and no clever hero could out-smart them. But he was sure that long ago the wish dragons had visited Earth, and these were the fair folk the old tales talked about.

Not that many remembered the old tales anymore. Such was the way of time, he supposed. The Awoken were sort of fey-ish too, he supposed. Those born after the distributary, those born here, those born who had never seen the Exodus Green; they didn’t consider themselves human. They were their own people, isolationist and xenophobic as hell. Which seemed very human to Duncan but, well, he wasn’t the one making the rules. They were incredibly long lived, and many had some minor psychic or psionic power. Duncan had a way with animals. 

His niece had loved the Ahamkara. She hand-raised a hatchling once, after finding it deep in the forests. She fed it scraps of meat and little desires, harmless things, and would stub her toe for a week afterwards and say it was worth it. It grew up to be mild in temperament, preferring to bask in the sun and catch birds than trick people off the cliff. 

She’d been livid when it was slain. Sounded like the Prince for a week or two, the way she carried on about the Risen. He didn’t exactly disagree with them, for slaying all the beasts. They were, objectively, dangerous as hell. They were also unlike the Fey in that there was really no safe way too deal with them. No wording or contract that could spare you from their trickery. The Little Beast she’d raised had said something once that stuck in his mind like a thorn - “All reality is like the sea, and a warm wind where it shouldn’t be, summons ill for sailors.” It saddened him somewhat though, that they were all gone now. Like the cosmos were less for it.

She was gone too now. And to add insult to injury they’d laid her to rest where she fell in the Tangled Shore, fighting the Scorn, where he couldn’t get to her. That’s what he told himself anyways - he couldn’t leave his duties in the Dreaming City. Once, he’d gone to see the prince, and curse him for dragging his family into this mess. She’d always been fond of him, and he’d told her it was foolish to be fond of a Sov. Both twins were selfish and cruel, and he trusted neither. The Prince had joked that was what made him such a good Crow. 

It was on the worst cycle of the second repeat that he went to see the brothers. The Dreaming City was now caught, forever repeating itself, thanks to Riven, and honestly Duncan almost didn’t blame her given that she’d been locked away for who knows how long. Maybe the Awoken did deserve her fate. It weighed on him though, to be caught in the repetition. Like a maddening nightmare. 

Huginn and Muninn had been laid to rest in the Harbinger’s seclude, all that was recovered of them being their skulls. He remembered when they would bask here, in the spray of the waterfall, and tell stories to whoever passed by. They’d been fond of Sjur, and had been found not far from her when she’d been recovered. Cheeky bastards calling themselves after Odin’s ravens. These days if you were still, and listened with your mind, you could still hear Huginn’s storytelling, if he was in the mood. Or probably would be able to hear him if the entire Seclude wasn’t crawling with Taken.

Duncan swore and dove behind a rock as bolts from a Taken Vandal’s line rifle embedded themselves in the wall where he had been. He notched an arrow to his bow, Beast’s Talon -- because the little bastard was amused to now be his weapon -- and fired into the eye of the Vandal, dispersing it into mist. He wished he could do the trick where the Risen summoned grenades out of thin air, but instead planted one of his own limited supply in a cluster of Psions. Another hail of arrows followed, as he dove from one point of cover to another. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the Knight. Fire bloomed around his feet and he swore again, diving backwards. Too busy to use both hands he sent a throwing knife into the eye of a phalanx and bolted across the platform, swerving into Muninn’s niche. The skull was completely surrounded by a blight, and Duncan furiously slashed into it until he could see one of the tusks. The Knight was getting closer, reinforcements blooming out of the blight. He gripped the tusk, “Alright ye squirrely bastard - if this is how it’s gonna be, do your worst. I just want her to live, I dunnae have to see it.” He felt a chuckle deep at the base of his skull.

He drew his sword, refusing to die cowering with the dragon’s head, and rolled out of the way of another solar barrage. Cutting down three Psions in a single swing, he turned to dual with the knight. Just in time to watch a solar orb, the size of a basketball, appear at the things feet. It shrieked, stumbling away as it burned up. A hail of gunfire was coming from the corridor, where the portal was. Two Guardians and an Elkisni. “S’not what I asked for Munnin,” He grumbled, drawing his bow and taking down another sniper before they could get a shot off. 

The Guardian’s made quick work of the Taken, embarrassingly efficient, but he supposed they could wholesale pull explosives out of their ass. The one who was in less armor and more of a robe could throw a fireball twenty paces. 

“Are you ok sir,” The robed one bounded over to him, sweeping her hands and one of her feet to summon a glowing pool of light, that soothed the burns on his legs. Not that he noticed much, because he knew that voice. She popped her helmet off when he didn’t respond, and he felt his bow fall numbly from his hand. “Sir?”

His little girl. Alive. Reborn. She didn’t remember him. 

Munnin chuckled in his mind again, as he tried to wrap his brain around what, exactly, he was supposed to do now. 

[crashdevlin]

Crashing 1- Drowning

Crashing Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Four of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: When Loki pulls Cassandra Campbell out of cryo and uses her trigger words against her, the memories that have been hiding from her since she was ten years old finally crash down on her completely.

Word Count: 3686

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, past Loki x OFC, past Bucky Barnes x OFC, past Steve Rogers x OFC

Chapter Warnings: mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, violence and anger, mentions of cheating

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Loki asked, setting his hand against the glass of the tank. The terrified Wakandan scientist nodded nervously. “Gives off an air of regality, even asleep.” He scoffed. “Especially asleep. There’s no fear on her here. No contempt. No attempt to run from her king,” he mused before turning to the scientist. “You can speak German, yes?”

“Y-yes.”

Loki produced a red notebook from his breast pocket and handed it backward to the man without looking away from the frozen woman. “Halfway through. Labeled ‘Kind’. Open this and recite those words.”

The man hit several buttons on the console attached to the tank and it filled with a chemical. Cassie blinked her eyes open, green orbs filling with confusion. The blur of confusion cleared out of her eyes and it was replaced with fear. “Loki?” she squeaked, struggling against the binds as the tank opened.

“Junior. Vierhundert.”

“No! Don’t read that!” Cassie struggled harder, but she didn’t move. “Please!”

“Keep going,” Loki ordered, smiling at her as she fought against the binds.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “Rot. Tochter. Vermächtnis. Fünfzig. Messer. Schädel."

“No! God, please, no! Please! Please, stop!” she begged over the trigger words.

“Johann. Zwei,” the scientist said, shaking as the woman blinked slowly...as if everything were suddenly clear.

“Undo her restraints,” Loki demanded, and the man rushed to release her. Cassie stepped down from the tank and looked around like she had new eyes. “How do you feel, Joanna? What’s different?”

“Shut up, Loki,” she bit out quietly before turning to the Wakandan man. “Run. Now. Go.”

The Asgardian watched in amusement as the man ran from the lab. “Now. How do you feel, my queen?”

“Not as different as you would want,” she snapped, leaning against the tank and looking up at Loki with disdain. “You really thought I’d come out on the other side of this ready to be your bride or something?”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d come out of it, Joanna. I was actually hoping you’d be ready to take directions as the other one does.”

Cassie scoffed and shook her head, scornfully. “Someone’s feeling a little flaccid without his scepter.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. “How dare you talk to-” he started, indignantly.

“Don’t start, Loki. Let’s just go. We don’t wanna be here when the king and the Doras get here,” she said, grabbing his coat and pulling him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Challa sent word to Steve as he was mounting his offensive on the Raft that Cassie was kidnapped out of the cryo lab by Loki, so when they were safely away from the prison and sitting in the cargo hold of a ship on its way to America, Steve sat next to Clint. “You know, Cassie was the one who gave me the information I needed to get you out.”

Clint nodded. “Yeah? When did she talk-”

“She didn’t go home after she got out. She found me and Bucky and she helped us get to Wakanda. She was instrumental.”

“Wait, but she was--what about the…” Steve looked down and Clint’s whole body slumped. “No. What happened?”

Steve shook his head. “She said she lost it, but...she also said she had some interaction with Loki after she left the Raft so...he may have...I’m not sure.”

“She must be devastated,” Clint whispered.

“Um...there’s...more.” Steve pulled the letter out of his inside pocket, but he didn’t hand it to the archer.

“Wh-”

“And before you read this, you need to know...Loki found her in Wakanda.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “What?! What do you mean? Why did she stay in Wakanda?”

“She had them freeze her. She said that the letter would explain.” Steve set the envelope on Clint’s lap and stood.

Clint’s stomach was in knots as he slid his finger across the envelope and pulled out the letter. A weight in the envelope had him shaking out a white gold ring that he recognized. He cleared his throat to deal with the sudden dryness.

My Dearest Clint,

I’m so sorry that I cannot do this in person, but you’re in prison and I’ll be frozen by the time Steve gets you out. Loki is looking for the red book, the one that Zemo used to activate Bucky as the Winter Soldier. I’m 90% certain that my words are on those pages too. What I’m not sure of is who I will become when those words are said. Since it means I’ll be who Hydra wanted, I can’t imagine anyone would enjoy finding out. That’s why I’m going into cryo, because I can’t hurt anyone if I’m frozen. I decided it was the best course of action...and I know you’re thinking that I would never hurt anyone, but you have never been more wrong. I’ve been remembering things and I know that I have killed. I killed two SHIELD agents when I was a child and I killed a man just a few days ago. Who knows what else is hiding in my head?

I’m sorry to send the ring back like this, but it’s what you deserve. I never should have said ‘yes’. It was selfish of me. I wanted my happy ending so much that I lied...to myself and to you. But I’ve been pretending for so long and I can’t anymore. I can’t keep putting up this facade for you. I kissed Sgt. Barnes. He saw the real me, those parts that I’ve been hiding from you and something about that drove me to break your trust. You deserve better. You deserve the woman you thought I was.

Despite it all, I love you. Be well.

Cassandra Campbell (R.Q)

Clint crushed the letter in his hand, anger almost palpable in the small space. “Let me get this straight,” he snapped as he stood, stomping up to Steve as the others stared on in confusion. “While I was in prison for helping you, your buddy made out with my fiancée and then one of you convinced her to freeze herself, leaving her completely defenseless when Loki showed up to get her in the supposedly impenetrable fortress that is Wakanda?”

Steve looked up at the ceiling. “It was Bucky’s idea to go into cryo...and he isn’t the only one that she kissed,” he finished quietly.

Clint’s fist smashed into Steve’s left cheekbone, groaning as he pulled away cradling his hand. “Worth it!”

“You kissed her back?” Sam asked, as Scott tried to not look impressed and Wanda made no effort to hide her judgment of Cap.

“I…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “She...I didn’t know she kissed Bucky first and...she did say she was breaking up with you, Clint, and...I didn’t know if I was ever going to see her again. I’m sorry, Clint.”

“I know what you are thinking and she is not,” Wanda practically growled at Scott. “I could feel your judgment. You don’t know her like I do, like we do. She isn’t promiscuous.”

“Oh, really? ‘Cause, I mean...evidence to the contrary, Wanda. How many other guys does a woman have to kiss before she gets labeled a slut?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lang,” Clint growled.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Get angry with me.”

“So what are we gonna do about Loki taking her?” Sam asked.

“We’re going to go to the U.S. and we’ll go from there. Coulson gave me the location of an old SHIELD black site where we can hang our hats. We’ll search for them from there,” Steve responded.

“Screw that,” Clint snapped. “I’m going home. You can find me on the farm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint stood in the barn, launching arrows into a target made of hay. He was furious. He was dismayed. He was taking it out on the wall behind his target.

“What’d that wall ever do to you?”

Clint turned to the voice, immediately dropping the bow and bounding for the small blonde woman. “How’d you get away from Loki?!” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

“I fought back,” she answered. “Did you expect anything less of me?”

He pulled back, eyeing her warily as a feeling of unease settled in his chest. “You...you wrote me a letter. You said Loki was looking for your trigger words. It’s the whole reason you let yourself be frozen. You didn’t want him to let out the sleeper-”

“You think Loki’s controlling me?” she asked, incredulously. She scoffed. “He’s just an alien without his fancy scepter. I’m a super soldier.”

Clint drove his fist into her jaw and stepped back into a fighting stance. “You might be, but Cassie hates being called that. You’re Joanna again,” he accused.

She smirked as she straightened, her tongue darting out to lick at her busted lip. “Actually, Clint, I prefer ‘Cassie’. Joanna Schmidt is an obvious Nick Fury construct. It evokes uncomfortable feelings and images of the noseless abomination my father became.” She wiped at the blood leaking from her lip. “Cassie, though, that gives off a feeling of hope and love. It evokes images of a young woman crying over a holiday dinner because she finally has a family to share Christmas dinner with.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I was afraid you were going to be a problem. That you were going to see the change, recognize.” She hummed sadly. “Sad. I was praying to fool you.”

“You could never fool me,” Clint spat out.

“Because you love me,” she finished for him. “You, the man who watched through a scope as I tried to piece together some semblance of a normal life. But I couldn’t, could I?” She chuckled ruefully. “Not with Phil’s help. Not even with your help. It’s like I was trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces gone. Joanna...she was a completely different puzzle, but she was missing the same number of pieces.”

“And you, what, you’re the missing jigsaw pieces?” Clint asked as his hand went to the tactical blade clipped to his belt.

Cassie lurched forward, grabbing the knife from his hand and punching him in the mouth with the handle. “The words are the pieces, you idiot. I’m the big picture, Clint. Pay attention,” she snapped. “I’m the image we’ve been trying to get to but haven’t been able to because we didn’t have the words to trigger the memories. The memories that Hydra and SHIELD decided I’d be better off without!” She kicked Clint in the chest, sending him backward into the barn door. She let out a satisfied sigh as the sound of cracked bones hit her ears.

“Because what good could come from me knowing that I killed my first enemy agents at nine years old?” she asked, with a bitter laugh. “Fury said he was afraid I’d look in the mirror and hate myself but he was terrified that I’d like it...and you know what, Hawk? I don’t.” Her smile faltered for a moment as a nauseated look took her face. “I don’t like it...but it feels right to be me. The ‘me’ I was bred to be.”

Clint coughed painfully and moved to sit up against the barn door. “This isn’t you. This is Loki.”

“Loki has nothing to do with this! I sent him packing a week ago! He wanted nothing to do with Hydra and since I am the future of Hydra, I sent his ass back to Asgard.” She squatted down in front of him, a sincere sadness gracing her pale features. “I knew this was going to be difficult for you to understand, Clint. Even before Loki made me...complete, I knew you’d hate this. I knew you’d hate me if I became this.”

Clint glared at her. “We won’t let you-”

“I know,” she interrupted softly. She nodded as she stood. “All of you would fight tooth and nail to get me back to being the person you think I should be. You’d send me off to SHIELD to be erased again. So, I guess I’ll just have to kill you all.”

Clint’s lip twitched into a sneer. “Harder villains have tried.”

“You’re right, they have...and we’ve overcome them all, but...see, Zemo had the right idea and he did half of the work for me.” She ran her hand through her hair and licked her lips. “The Avengers are strong because we work well to balance each other’s faults. The powered and the nonpowered, tacticians and geniuses and just plain strong heroes...but right now, we’re fractured. Those of that signed can come and go as we please and the rest of you, fugitives, you’re scattered. I heard Scott is even on house arrest. Are the rest of you even in contact with each other?” She shook her head. “I’ll have marched through the hidden Avengers before you all realize the rest of your team is gone...and then I’ll take the Compound.”

“You’ll never make it through all of us,” he groaned. “Even separately.”

“See, you forget, Clint, that I’ve known you all for quite a while now, so...I know your pressure points. I know your buttons, Clint. Like I know that just mentioning Bucky makes Steve stop in his tracks.” She smiled cruelly as Clint swallowed heavily. “I wish I could have been there to see his face when the Winter Soldier showed up at Fury’s old black site.”

“You didn’t,” Clint whispered.

She chuckled. “Of course I did. Why would I leave such a powerful Hydra asset on ice?”

“Why would you send him after Steve?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s Steve’s weak spot. I would be a fool to not use him. Especially since I know Soldat’s trigger phases. It’s the only Russian I know. Strucker taught me a long time ago. Did you know that Winter Soldier was supposed to be my right hand man when I came of age? When they put me at the head of Hydra, Bucky was going to be standing next to me.” Cassie examined the knife in her hand and smiled sadly. “I remember that now. I’m finally the person I was created to be, Hawk. I know you can’t be happy for me about that and...if it’s any consolation, killing you is really gonna hurt my feelings.”

A shock went through her as something hit her back but it didn’t put Cassie down. She turned to the redheaded intruder with rage in her eyes, then forced a tight smile. “Natasha! How unexpected. I didn’t think you’d be here. Did you know she was coming, babe?” she asked, stomping her booted heel down onto Clint’s hand.

“Steve sent me,” Natasha said, hand resting on the stingers on her wrist.

“Really?” Cassie growled.

“Bucky showed up at Steve’s new base and tried to kill him. Luckily, Sam was there. They were able to subdue him. When he came back to himself, he told them you sent him. He was adamant it wasn’t your fault though, so Steve called in to get you some help.”

“And you’re just here to stall until the help gets here, right?” Cassie rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek and scoffed. “Let me guess...my help comes in the form of Phil’s Zephyr 1, which will take me to Fury to be erased again.” She shook her head as she twisted her heel until she heard the crunch of Clint’s bones. Her lips twitched, attempting a smile as Clint screamed. “Someone’s not drawing a bowstring anytime soon. Something to remember me by, Hawk, since I won’t be able to.”

“It’s better this way,” Natasha said, matter-of-factly.

Cassie took her foot off of the archer’s hand and squared herself off with the Russian. “Says you. You’re not the one who has to walk around with a giant hole in your personality. You aren’t the one who gets to feel wrong every day and not know why.”

Clint cradled his broken left hand in his right and stood with a wince. “You don’t even like yourself like this!” he argued.

“I hit a wall, Clint,” she growled through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t deal with fighting myself anymore. Since Sokovia I’ve been trying to convince myself that this isn’t who I am, that remembering wouldn’t change me, but it did. I changed...and when I woke up, when Loki said those words, everything clicked. Who I really am flooded into me...so I let myself finally drown.”

“What, you’re tired so you just stop fighting? What happened to the strong woman I wanted to marry?” Clint snapped.

“She died in Africa,” Cassie snapped, looking from Natasha to Clint to the barn door to the hayloft. “About the time she killed a warlord and threatened to drown a little boy in the blood of his friends.” She bent her knees and vaulted herself over Natasha, landing on the ladder before jumping to the loft. “I can’t let you take me back, sorry.” She started toward the hayloft door but stopped in her tracks when an arrow hit her right thigh.

“Barney! What the fuck? You shot my-” Clint yelled as Cassie pulled the arrow from the soft flesh of her leg.

She turned and flung the arrow at the tall ginger man, who grabbed the arrow from the air. “What? You can’t shoot her so I did.”

“Barney Barton! Nice to finally meet you!” she said with sarcastic enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I can’t stick around. You understand, I’m sure,” she said before jumping out the loft door.

Barney handed the arrow shaft to Clint’s good hand. “Great taste in women, bro.”

“That wasn’t Cassie,” Clint defended as Barney walked out the door. He threw the tracer-arrow shaft to the ground and followed.

“Yes, it was,” Natasha said, pulling up a map on her tablet and watching the retreating dot.

“How can you say that, Nat? You know Cass. You know she’s not-”

“Clint, I know what you wanna hear, but I can’t say it.” Natasha shrugged. “She was one person with those memories gone, but she is someone different when she has them.”

“Yeah, okay, but...you remember your-”

“And I fought to become someone better than what they made me in the Red Room,” she interrupted, following the Bartons across the field to the farmhouse. “Cassie doesn’t wanna fight so unless we can get her to Coulson to get those memories erased, your fiancee is gone.”

“Do you even want her back, Clint? Bitch just broke your hand.” Barney threw the bow on the porch swing as he walked through the door. “I mean, even if you got her back to being...what’s her name? ‘Red Queen’. Even if you get rid of the homicidal tendencies the Nazis gave her, she tried to kill you. It’s gonna change how you see her, how all of you treat her.”

“And we won’t be able to tell her why,” Natasha added.

“What does that matter? How many times have you tried to kill me, Barn? Nat was trying to kill me when we met!” Clint exploded.

“Different,” Barney said, pulling a beer out of the fridge with one hand and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer with the other. “This is the chick you said hadn’t ever killed anyone, right? That actively avoided doing more than incapacitating the bad guys, ‘cause her dad was a huge dick?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Now we all know that’s not true, don’t we?”

“You don’t seem too surprised by that, Natasha,” Clint said suspiciously as he put the ice pack over the back of his hand.

“I read the file. The Projekt Kind file. I knew she killed the agents in ‘99 before she did,” Natasha said, sighing as the signal on the tracer dulled. “She’s blocking the transmitter.”

“She’s a scientist,” Clint growled. “I coulda told you a tracker wasn’t going to work.”

“Shut up, man. I had to try something.” Barney popped open his beer and took a drink. “At least you know which direction was heading and she’ll have to pull whatever’s dampening it eventually to cut out the chip.”

“If we even want to find her,” Natasha reiterated.

“Of course we do! What kind of-”

“Exactly what memories do we take, Clint?” Nat asked, calmly. “Just her childhood or do we take her memories of the things that made her start remembering? Do we take away Loki’s second attack? Do we take Austria? What about Wanda? Where do we stop?”

“Wherever we need to to get her back!” Clint’s hand reflexively started to clench, causing him to hiss in pain.

“But if we take everything, she’ll barely know you. She’ll still be terrified of Steve. She will be drowning in a bottle of whiskey and pining for Phil, who kinda still loves her and is currently very unattached.”

“Coulson wouldn’t.”

Natasha shrugged. “Man’s lonely. His last girlfriend was shot and bled out in his arms. He might.”

“And she’d have no memory of playing Avenger with you,” Barney said from behind his beer can.

“Why don’t you just turn the new Cassie?” Laura suggested as she entered the kitchen and all eyes fell on her. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to listen in, but Cassie’s a friend.”

“It’s not that simple, Lore. She’s gone over to Hydra. It’s not like we can just convince her to come be an Avenger again.”

“Also, Avengers are less a thing now,” Natasha finished.

“She loves you, Clint. You know she does.”

“She woulda been really sad about killing you, right?” Barney set the can on the counter and turned to his wife. “She may not be fixable.”

“But...you just bring her in, help her,” Laura argued. “She doesn’t have to be bad just because she was made to do some things when she was Hydra...right?”

Clint looked between Barney and Natasha. He sighed loudly as he heard the sound of a Quinjet landing in the yard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​​​ @flamencodiva​​​ @wasabiwitteks​​​ @rainbowkisses31​​​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​​​ @officiallyunofficialperson​​​ @dolphincliffs​​​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​​​ @gayspacenerd​​​ @foxyjwls007​​​ @ilovefanfic86​​​ @marvelfansworld​​​ @f-yeahfandoms​​​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​​​ @hhiggs​​​ @sev3nruby​​​  @hobby27​​​ @paintballkid711​​​ @divadinag​​​ @thewhiterabbit42​​​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​​ @superfanficnatural​​​ @letsby​​​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​​ @swinchester27​​​ @chalicia​​​ @sunnyroadtrips​​​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​​ @dayasvalkyrie​​​ Hero Tags - @atc74​​​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​​​ @holylulusworld​​​

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Hello there friend! May I request Sabos' NSFW alphabet A-Z, please? Thank you for your time. Stay awesome!

Ahhh thank you both! Sorry this took me so long (I stared at most of these letters with a blank stare, making the same noise SpongeBob does when holding the Orb of Confusion...it was a dark time) but I finally got it done! I hope you enjoy!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Sabo’s not a big cuddler (he can be persuaded to cuddle on occasion though), but he’ll at least make sure you’re good and settled before either going to sleep or returning to work

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself: His arms; they’re very toned, and he can do a lot with them. He really loves the way you fit within his arms when he wraps you up in them

On his partner: Necks, that’s where he likes to pay the most attention to, and he’s constantly rubbing his nose in that spot where neck meets shoulder (both in and outside of the bedroom)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He really doesn’t like having cum on him, so he’ll prefer to cum inside (the mouth also works!)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The first time he had sex, he was so nervous he couldn’t even look at his partner even when they asked. It was actually kinda sweet, in an adorable kinda way, but he still prefers for it not to be known by other people

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not inexperienced, but he doesn’t have sex very often either. It’s mostly been one-night stands when visiting various islands, and usually he only did it because the others he was with sorta pushed him to go talk to the cute person eyeing him up. He’s a fast learner, though, and he’s learned quite a bit from his few experiences

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Cowgirl, or reverse cowgirl, or anything that puts him on his back letting the other person top. He likes the view.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s goofy about it, but he definitely teases a lot (verbally in this case). He’s not afraid to laugh in the moment, though

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s a bit cleaned up, hair-wise, mostly for his own comfort than anything else

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

With one-night stands he’s not romantic at all. He keeps it very impersonal, especially since he’s not gonna see that person again. When it’s with someone he cares about, he almost doesn’t know how to switch on the romance, but you can tell in his actions that there’s more feeling behind what he’s doing

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates pretty often; if anyone found out he’d be super embarrassed about it

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He may like to be on bottom, but he’s definitely a dom. He’s also pretty into impact play, but he won’t go overboard unless his partner is ok with it. He’s also kinda into hardcore bondage (tying his partner up, gagging, blindfolding, the works), but he hasn’t had much chance to explore that yet

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the bedroom, mostly because it’s private, but he doesn’t confine sex to just the bed *wink wonk*

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly? He gets turned on by “arguing” with his partner. Not about anything serious, of course, but angry sex? That’s that good shit

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Things like knife play and stuff that actually causes real bodily harm aren’t for him; he likes to cause pain to some extent but he doesn’t like to leave actual marks, and he doesn’t want to actually hurt his SO

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Definitely prefers receiving, but he’s still extremely skilled with his tongue. The best way to get him to go down on you is to honestly just sit on his face; he loves the powerplay of his sub demanding something from him like that

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s actually on the slower side, but almost agonizingly slow to the point that it’s a tease in and of itself. He speeds up the closer he gets to finishing, though

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s down for quickies! He doesn’t have a preference between quickies and proper sex, it all just depends on his mood and how badly he needs to get off

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Sabo needs a little convincing to try something new, but he’ll still usually go for whatever his partner suggests; he’s also very risky, as he prefers to go bareback

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Sabo tends to put his all into sex, especially kinky sex, and so can usually only last for one round, but it’s a decently long round to make up for it

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He started out with a basic bondage set, something he picked out after a one-night stand where his partner at the time showed him what bondage was; eventually as he tries new things, and explores more, I think he’d definitely invest in a better kit, plus a few vibrators and anal toys. Nothing over the top, but enough to (eventually) satisfy his partner

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s such a rude little shit, that’s all I got

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s super quiet, mostly just low grunts and gasps, but he’s very vocal in his teasing, and engages in dirty talk while dominating his partner

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Sabo likes to have sex in front of a mirror every so often, he thinks it’s super erotic

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He thicc

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s surprisingly not that high; other than masturbation he doesn’t really seek out other people for sex, he doesn’t see a need, but once he has a partner his libido increases a bit

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sabo’s perfectly capable of going right back to work after sex, but if it’s bedtime he’ll just lay next to his partner, relaxed and listening to their even breaths, until eventually he finally falls asleep

[thegreenfairy13]

"Do you even care anymore?" for gobblepot

The Penguin can’t help but look forward to his appointment. With Jim, he always likes to take his time, to take that little extra care. He chooses his garments deliberately, pays attention to the smallest details, such as the stickpin, his cufflinks, the way his curls accentuate his face. The cologne he chooses will mirror his mood. 

Nothing about his outfit is left to chance. Not even the tiniest button. 

The Penguin, he’s a facade. His appearance, the appearance he puts on in public, it’s all a finely crafted piece of art, and he’ll be damned if that facade crumbles. 

Unless, it does. More often than he likes to admit. At times, a tightly fitted coat serves no other purpose but to hold a volcano together. The Penguin is aware of his temper-tantrums, has become quite an expert in controlling them, though. 

But then James Gordon is an excellent sparring-partner, knows exactly how to rile him up, what buttons to push, what words to say. He knows him, profoundly. 

After all these years, there’s no one left who’d remember Oswald, the former umbrella-boy, but one cop. They all perished, one way or another. They had seen them all, the Batmen, the Riddlers, the Scarecrows, the various Jokers. Some from this universe, some from another. 

In the end, they all vanished into oblivion, leaving Gotham’s First Knight and her King behind. 

He can’t count the times the two of them had died and been resurrected. Unlike the others, they had never been replaced, had never died for good. Probably never will. 

He should probably kill him, slowly. Solely for the crime of knowing him, remembering he once had been anything else but himself. 

It would be glorious, he thinks, wiping out that last remnant of the boy he used to be. He sneers as he pockets his knife. Oswald tests the edge, lets it glide along his skin. He’s pleased once he sees the tiny droplets of red, almost obscene against the white of his skin. 

Oswald always preferred his knives. It’s such an intimate thing, standing so close you can smell another person’s last breath, hot against your neck. He loves the feeling of blood dribbling down and musky sweat engulfing him. Maybe he needs a feral contrast to the facade. Maybe he just likes the power. Besides, it’s something else, being so close when taking a life. 

Only this special intimacy will cause Oswald to feel as if he’d really own that life now. 

And oh! Come to think of it, he really wants to own Jim. Pretty, pretty Jim Gordon with all those morals and principles and those big doe eyes that always seem to look at him a tad bit accusingly. And even when he snarls and growls, when he’s all rough and tough, there’s always this innocence hidden behind those orbs, this little glimmer that tells Oswald he does not truly believe what he sees, can’t quite grasp - despite all the damning evidence - how rotten this city indeed is. 

He has to admit, it’s an absolutely endearing quality. Quite laughable, yet still endearing. 

Oswald adjusts his outfit one last time before entering his limousine, polishes his nails on his way to the precinct, already looking forward to some nice bickering. He has to admit it has become hard to find someone capable of keeping him on his toes. 

So to find Jim more or less slumped over his desk, barely awake after being up for days, he’s disappointed. To say the least. 

Oswald curls his lips but takes the offered seat. He taps his cane impatiently against the wooden floor, hoping to leave soon. 

Jim looks up from his folders, eyes wrinkled and blood-shot. His eyes seem to be drained from color, dulled, but his voice still booms through the room, low and intimidating as ever. 

He throws the pictures in his folder across the table and Oswald doesn’t even flinch. Another one might as mauled as the corpses they show are. 

The Penguin merely shrugs. Cheap tricks are even more disappointing. But he’ll be benevolent, allow Jim this moment of weakness. 

“Do you even care anymore what you’re doing to this city?” he barks and Oswald has to bite his inner cheek least he’d roll his eyes. 

It’s endearing, it really is. Even after all those years, that righteousness still shines through. 

He picks up one of the pictures, looks at it closely, and feels absolutely nothing. The man in the picture is certainly no one would miss. To be honest, there are only very few people this city would really miss, who make a difference. Two of these people are sitting in this very room. 

The rest is just a faceless flock. Expandable. Disposable. 

Oswald’s fingers clench around his cane. “I don’t know,” he tells him, honest for once, or as honest as he can be.  “Why do you care so much?” 

The light is back in Jim’s eyes as he readies himself to answer, and this time, Oswald smiles. Endearing, really.