#so we couldn't wander away 😂😂

[andy-clutterbuck]

𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐤/𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧-𝐨𝐟𝐟  📸 :𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐳

[antiquitea]

I AM THREE DAYS OUT FROM THESE PHOTOS BEING TAKEN AND I STILL CAN'T QUITE BELIEVE THIS NIGHT HAPPENED.

(please do not repost my photos)

so!! i had the pleasure of seeing atta boy in toronto on october 22 and it was amazing in every conceivable way. they opened for richy mitch & the coal miners.

as i was waiting outside, i was mostly texting mr. megan; his work day had just ended so he was catching me up. i was first in the outside line (the venue is also a bar so there was a small inside line as well), so i was a couple of feet away from the security guard. i saw this guy walk up to them in the peripheral of my vision, but didn't think anything of it. just someone asking if it was the line for the gig or saying that they just wanted to get a beer.

the blue carhartt pants should've given it away.

i was so close to lewis that i could've reached out and touched him. and i definitely stood there for a moment just like 😲 as i watched him go inside the bar. he was wearing a blue cap, a red shirt, and of course those blue carhartt pants.

when i got into the horseshoe tavern i did the usual wandering i do at a gig. grabbed a beer, scoped out the stage, and checked out the merch table. atta boy merch wasn't being sold yet, so i was just having my beer and walking around.

and then ... i saw lewis sitting at the back of the venue in a booth by himself, having a beer and on his phone (like texting or something). there was a part of me that said "megan, don't bother him. he goes on in an hour and probably just wants to chill." but another part of me thought "if he doesn't want to be bothered or if the vibes are off you can just fuck off. no big. no hard feelings."

well!

i wandered over, and was midway through saying, "excuse me, lewis? could i bother you for a moment?" and he was already looking up at me and gesturing to the chair next to him. "yes, of course you can bother me!" he said.

(some paraphrasing is ultimately imminent)

i sat down next to him and said something along the lines of how i really loved and appreciated all of his art - his acting, his music - and thanked him so much for sharing that with us. i told him that i wasn't going to get into the details, but that the last year was really shitty for me and that his art helped me a lot, and brought me a lot of comfort. his face lit up and he said, "oh my god, that's so sweet. that's so kind. that's why i do this! thank you!"

then he asked me my name, and proceeded to keep saying it throughout our conversation (at one point i said "okay, you need to stop saying my name so much because you're giving me butterflies" and he laughed). he then asked if i "lived around here" and i told him that no, i lived in halifax.

"halifax? that's far!"

i told him that yes it was 😂 but that i really wanted to see his band, so i'd flown in earlier in the day, and that it was totally worth the trip! "it means so so much to me that you would travel all that way to come see us! really, that's so sweet! thank you!"

i asked if he would be cool taking a couple of selfies and he was already taking his cap off, and he said that it was absolutely cool! he mentioned that it was kinda dark so we might have to use flash. i told him that flash and i weren't great friends (i blink a lot and get pretty shiny), and he laughed. we got a couple of really good photos! (the first one up above).

i told him about my bestie @wildbornsiren, who wanted to be there so badly and couldn't make it, and asked if he would be cool saying hi to her? lewis said he was down with that, and we recorded a sweet little video for her where he said hi to her.

lewis then said to me, "you know, when i think of halifax i think of stan rogers." rogers was a popular folk artist from the area, and while he's a big name, i was kinda surprised that lewis knew who he was! not to flex, but based on his spotify playlists we have similar tastes in music so i shouldn't have been that shocked.

i said that i "fuckin' love stan rogers!" and we talked about him and his music for a little bit. after gushing over our mutual love of stan rogers, i said, "if you like stan rogers and his type of music, you should really check out joel plaskett. he's from the area too, plays music in a similar style as stan, super prolific - highly recommend!"

i had to spell joel's last name a couple of times for him (the bar was kinda loud), but he may or may not be a joel plaskett fan now, who's to say!

i thanked him again for taking the time to chat with me, and he shook my hand and said, "hey, if the selfies didn't turn out come find me after the show and we can take some more." to which i replied, "i will!"

then lewis added, "i really hope i can see you after the show!"

we parted ways, and i found my place in front of the stage, a little off to the side. the place was packed! i'd actually never heard of richy mitch & the coal miners until atta boy announced that they were touring with them, and i had no idea they were kind of a big name because the place was filling up fast!

atta boy's set was amazing! of course i wish it had been longer, but they played a bunch of my faves so i was absolutely thrilled by that. poor eden was just getting over a cold, so her voice was a little strained at times, but she still did fantastic! the rest of the crowd was absolutely in love with them. if they weren't fans before the gig, i'm pretty sure they left as such.

(i posted some photos of lewis specifically here)

after their set i went to the merch table that dashel was working and bought a hoodie. we chatted for a little bit, i told them that the set was fantastic and thanked them so much. they thanked me for coming and said that they hoped i had a great rest of my night. 😊

during richy mitch & the coal miners' set, i went up to the bar to get another drink, only to see the bartender already heineken for me haha! it's so nice to be seen. lewis was also at the bar, but like three or four people away from me. but he glanced over, saw me, came over, and said "hey megan!"

i am dying from glee. "hey lewis!"

he propped his arm against the bar and leaned against it, and asked, with this big fuckin' grin on his face, "what did you think of the set? was it worth coming out to toronto for?"

i am flabbergasted that a) this was happening, and b) that he genuinely seemed interested. i said, "oh my god it was so good. i enjoyed it so much. it was such an honour to see y'all live."

he told me that i was so sweet, and then asked, "how did the selfies turn out?"

i replied, "pretty good! i have t-rex kinda arms, so sometimes it's difficult for me to get people who are taller than me in frame. but they're great!"

lewis laughed and then looked at his own arms. "i have t-rex arms too."

i laughed and said, "oh, no you don't!" NOT EVEN THINKING i reached out and touched his arm. MEGAN. DO NOT FLIRT WITH LEWIS PULLMAN. YOU ARE IN DANGER, GIRL.

he was laughing and said, "well, i'll take them!" he grabbed my phone, and asked "do we want flash or do we not want flash?"

"no flash. it's kind of my enemy because i get really shiny."

he took a couple of pictures and there was flash, and was like "wait ... we didn't want flash." so together, while he was holding my phone, we were pressing my screen together trying to figure out how to turn it off. our hands kept touching and i was... really trying not to spontaneously combust.

(hiding my face in this one because i'm not a fan of it, but his is darling)

after he handed my phone back to me, he said, "let's see how they turned out!"

i was scrolling through them and he leaned over and said, "oh these are really good!" i landed on the one above and he chuckled and said, "i really like that one!"

i don't like my face in it, but i'm laughing and clearly so so happy, and said, "you know what? i like that one too."

i asked if he would mind signing something for me, and he said that he didn't mind at all, that he'd love to sign something for me. he was putting his ballcap on (because he's such a gentleman who took his hat off for our pictures), and it was a little askew when he asked "do you have a pen?"

gonna need this dude to stop being so darling.

i did, and pulled out some bar napkins i'd stuffed in my purse earlier and asked if this was good. lewis laughed a little and nodded saying that a napkin was great.

i was just expecting a signature, so as he's writing this little novella above it, i'm like "oh my god, you don't have to do this." and he kinda giggled like it was some kind of big secret. "what are you writing, you sweet man?" i asked, and he giggled again!!

lewis handed me the bar napkin and i gave it a quick read and said, "thank you so much. this is so sweet!"

he leaned against the bar again for a moment and said, "it so means the world to me that you travelled all that way to come see us, and that you had a good time."

and then, before i'm truly aware of what's happening, he leaned in (and crouched because i'm a full foot shorter than he is), and wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me so close to him and squeezed, rubbed my back. and again thanked me so much for coming out, meant the world, made his night.

y'all. getting a hug from lewis pullman may have cured my depression. like it was an actual hug.

i, on the verge of flying into space from joy, thanked him again for everything that night, and he said, "you are so welcome! i hope i can see you again!"

LEWIS WHAT ARE WE.

i, very drunk on elation and a little drunk on beer, blew him a kiss, and he smiled and put his hands over his heart. i floated away back into the crowd, and tried to not just scream with happiness.

and that, my friends, is how lewis pullman damn near killed me.

[telomeke]

4 MINUTES – HUNGRY GHOSTS?

OK this is me going out on a limb again...

I'm certain at least some of the characters in 4 Minutes are from the spirit realm. And as the broadcast schedule of 4 Minutes overlaps the seventh lunar month, in which the Thai-Chinese Ghost Festival wan saat jeen takes place, part of me is wondering if there is further significance...

The Ghost Festival is sometimes also called the Festival of the Hungry Ghosts. The belief is that during the seventh lunar month the gates of hell are thrown open, and the previously imprisoned spirits are allowed to wander freely in the world of the living. And as they've been sequestered away for the previous year, they are ravenous as they roam the land (so believers will lay out offerings at shrines and altars in a bid to satisfy their ghostly hunger).

There is a parallel in 4 Minutes, and I don't know if it's intentional (but I want to believe it is).

Part of me (a GREAT part of me, hah 🤣) is leaning into the theory that the white-clad characters in 4 Minutes are actually ghosts. They're back for a spell in the world of the living, and I think we're seeing them (Great especially, but also Korn) re-living episodes of their time on earth, reviewing what they could have done better (I think this probably will play into how long or severe their punishment in the Netherworld has to be, before they are allowed into the next cycle of rebirth/reincarnation perhaps).

And we see all of them morally doing the right thing, while clad in white – it's do-over after do-over. Great's four-minute rewinds allow him to remake his bad decisions (e.g., Manee's hit-and-run, and also saving the lives of Dome and Nan). Korn in his ghostly do-over is the kindly elder brother to Great, gentle with Nan and (somewhat) solicitous with his employees as he oversees the betting operations (whereas in Ep.6 he's curt and literally has blood on his hands). Win continues with the investigation after being ordered not to by the corrupt higher-ups, and he offers to protect Ton Kla in the process.

But the parallel with the Festival of the Hungry Ghosts is this: we are also seeing the white-clad characters display a certain neediness, hungering perhaps, for that which was (I think) denied to them before, in the versions of events that are presented as alternatives to the Ep.6 narrative (that the fandom, me included, appears to believe is the actual reality – although my caveat is that I think a small part of the episode may also be someone else's revisiting of the past as well).

We have Great being sought out and showered with affection from Tyme (whereas Tyme used and discarded him in Ep.6); Korn having Ton Kla always at his disposal, always adoring, while also being entrusted with leading the family business; and Win winning (sorry, couldn't help it 😂) Ton Kla's affections over Korn. I would even add Great's mom, who's risen to a position of respect and prestige as the elegant (and official, no longer common-law) wife of a business mogul.

If they are ghosts, what we're seeing in their do-overs is them satiating certain very primal hungers that seem to motivate their characters.

Hungry ghosts? I'm thinking the 4 Minutes broadcast dates are too much of a coincidence, and I wouldn't put it past Sammon to have worked this in...

But with only two episodes to go, we'll be getting the explanation soon enough! I'm betting on Den to be the key in divulging the answers to the mystery. He mentioned that he's going to help Lukwa (whose appearance in the series is replete with clues to her ghostly state of being) meet another patient/ghost with experience of the Four-Minute Rewind. That patient could be Great. But I'm thinking it could also be Korn (remembering that it was Korn who said – was it in Episode 1 or 2? – that he knew a physician who might be able to help Great with his own four-minute rewinds)...

And when that meet-up happens, we can be sure to expect a whole lot of relevation! 😍

‌

[thescarletnargacuga]

So could you write a poly fic between Caine Jax and Pomni?

Maybe one where Jax and Pomni keep making Caine flustered (in their own ways) during adventures, so Caine decides he is going to be the one to fluster them for once during a private adventure between the three of them.

They all are in a consenting and loving poly relationship (just felt the need to say that with all the other crazy anons going around 😂)

A/N: always good to clarify! And thank you for letting me know that it's a throuple poly ship, because polys can work in a lot of different ways

MY TURN

A FUNNYBUNNYSHOW ONESHOT

WARNING: suggestive, power dynamic

~~~

"That was another great adventure, Ringmaster." Pomni flirtatiously emphasized Caine's title after everyone had received an award for participating in today's adventure.

Caine smiled, a light blush displayed around the sides of his face. "Aw, shucks, Pomni. Thank-woah!"

"We had a lot of fun sneaking off to be alone." Jax pulled Caine down by his foot until he was taller than the floating AI. "Too bad you weren't there to join us." He arched a brow suggestively.

Caine flustered, gripping his cane with both hands and holding it in front of him like he was trying to hide behind it. "Oh! Um, you know I can't. Eheh, The- the adventures are....are just for..." He couldn't focus on what he was saying. Jax and Pomni were closing in on him. He felt cornered, despite that he could teleport away at any time.

"What's the matter, Caine? Humans too hot for you to handle?" Jax chuckled, looming over Caine.

"I think we blue screened him." Pomni smirked.

"More like red-screened. Look how hard he's blushing." Jax slowly moved his hand up Caine's leg.

"Adorable." Pomni traced a finger down Caine's lower jaw.

"Uh!! I'm not-! Oh dear goodness-" Caine shuddered. "You two are being extraordinarily friendly today. I'm glad the adventure was to your.....liking." He was very much enjoying the touches.

"Like Jax said, we had time to ourselves. It's done wonders for our mood, and we wanted to thank you." Pomni kissed Caine's lower jaw while Jax kissed the side of Caine's upper jaw.

Caine's hat flipped off his head and a mushroom cloud of confetti exploded out of it, raining all over the three of them. He hovered low to the ground, eyes blue with white text scrolling across. His hat slowly wandered away from him.

Pomni laughed. "You were right, he did error out."

"Told ya." Jax and Pomni bumped fists. "We should totally leave him like this."

"That's so mean...let's do it." She and Jax bolted while Caine was still rebooting.

Caine came back upside down, confetti everywhere and his hat flying away from him. His code still felt all kinds of tingly to the point of making him lightheaded. "Gadzooks.....wait-" He looked around and quickly uprighted himself. "Where'd they go?" It slowly dawned on him what they just did. "Those two!! They-! Oooohohoho, so that's how it's going to be."

Caine's hat snapped back into place and he adjusted his suit. "It seems some of my cast members need a reminder of their place at the circus, and why I am the Ringmaster." He teleported away.

~

The next adventure, everyone except Jax and Pomni were sent off. The two trouble makers kept glancing at each other, wondering what revenge plot Caine had in store for their teasing the other day. They knew they were in for something.

"What's today's adventure?" Pomni asked innocently.

"You're about to find out." Caine snapped and a second portal promptly appeared. "After you." He gestures for them to go through.

Jax boldly stepped forward first. He went through the portal, only to find himself in a small restaurant. No NPCs, it was very quiet and quaint. Pomni came through a few seconds later and he gestures to the room. "Well, this doesn't look like much."

Caine came through and the portal vanished. "I would just like a little sit down with you two. When was the last time we were on a simple date?" He snapped his fingers and food appeared on the plates, no servers came.

"Okay, what's the catch?" Jax crossed his arms. Pomni wanted to know too, so she looked at Caine questioningly.

Caine smiled warmly, his hands behind his back. "Why would there need to be a catch? I would just like to enjoy a meal with my favorite humans." His voice was smooth as silk, giving nothing away.

Jax and Pomni looked at each other nervously. Caine's oddly calm demeanor put them on edge, but they sat at the table. Caine sat in the air between them. Jax inspected his foods suspiciously. Pomni didn't touch hers at all. Caine sat quietly, lounging back.

"Seriously. What have you done?" Jax pressed.

"Why so suspicious? Have you done something that deserves retaliation?" Caine asked with a smirk in his voice.

"Cut the crap.I know you're up to something." Jax narrowed his eyes at Caine.

Caine shrugged. "If you say so."

"Caine," Pomni spoke up. "We were just teasing yesterday. You're not mad, are you?"

"No, my dear. I'm not upset." Caine answered genuinely. "Yesterday was fun, if a bit ultimately frustrating, but that's the way the game is played."

Reassured, Jax and Pomni ate what was served. It was a very well prepared three course meal. Surprisingly delicious for digital food. They eased into fun conversation, putting aside their worries.

After dessert was devoured and after dinner drinks were served, Caine smiled at each of his partners. "Tell me....do you remember what Ringmaster means?"

"uh... That you're in charge of the Circus?" Pomni answered with a confused lilt.

"Indeed." Caine sat forward, resting his elbows on the table, his chin on his hands. "But do you think that's...it?"

Jax started to feel fuzzy. He slammed his drink down. "I KNEW IT! WHAT WAS IN THAT FOOD!?"

"Nothing. Calm yourself." Caine didn't even look at Jax and the rabbit immediately felt woozy. "I create everything in this world, down to the last pixel. Therefore, it is mine to command. And when you consume what is mine...I have influence over the code that makes up your very being. If only for a time."

Pomni felt it too. A warmth in her core spreading out and making her hot under the collar. "What are you...doing?" Her breathing became heavy.

"Showing you two exactly who you're messing with." Caine smiled to himself, focusing on the codes inside Pomni and Jax.

Jax tried to get up. "You...little..."

"Sit." Caine said firmly.

Jax immediately fell back into his chair and couldn't find the strength to get up again. He felt tingles up his thighs and chest, making him squirm in his seat. "[%$!#]" He moaned.

Pomni covered her mouth and gripped the table cloth. Her legs quivered as she squeezed them together. Muffled gasps and moans escaped her throat. The pleasure she was feeling was indescribable.

There was a subtle glow to Caine's eyes. "Good...very good..."

Jax gripped the table's edge, throwing his head back. "Nnngh! Caine-... you-" He gasped.

"Use your words, Jax." Caine said, relaxed as ever.

"More..." Jax whined.

"Pomni?" Caine looked at her.

She nodded, nearly crossed eyed.

Caine snapped and both his partners fell apart. They cried out in pleasure and fell out of their seats. Caine willed away the table and watched his partners catch their breath on the floor. "What have we learned?"

"To never say no to dinner." Jax laughed, still panting.

Caine snapped again. Jax and Pomni rose to their knees by Caine's telekinesis. He held them both gently by the chin. "I love both of you very, very much....but do that do me again, and I'll have to remind you of who I am, won't I?"

Jax and Pomni nodded, looking up at Caine with hazey eyes.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Cale Snow's Chapter 231

TL;DR - The pope plots while the Dragon Lord is away. Dragon with past attribute and CJG are rumored to be with the white snake beastkin elder. DHB has mixed feelings about his situation. Dragon Lord goes to Central Plains in search of the ring.

The Pope's Revenge First half of the chapter was about the pope of the church, Kesilia. I initially spelt this as "Casillia", but upon further research, Kesilia was the closest English translation to the Korean word used for her name. The author was probably inspired by "Caecilianus", a Roman bishop in the past, but the "cae" in the name could be pronounced as "se" at times, which was different from the "ke" used in the Korean spelling of her word. So Kesilia it is.

Moving on, Kesilia was actually a mixed blood dragon too who was nearing her death. But she greatly hated her "father", the Dragon Lord. Something about how the Dragon Lord trampled her dreams, so she was planning to trample his dreams too.

She hated the fact that the mixed blood dragons were the ones who shed the blood the most during the great upheaval, yet until now, there was no world for them. They were still treated as the minions of dragons.

So she wanted to destroy Aipotu as revenge. She was going to die anyway, so why not drag down everyone with her? The Dragon Lord was away, and if Kendall got killed too, it would cause chaos in the world. She planned to use that chaos to achieve her revenge.

Apparently, she had lied to Kendall about the Dragon Lord giving an order. In fact, the Dragon Lord had gone to another world in search of something, so she couldn't even report to him about the subjugation force's failure. Yet she sent Kendall in hopes that whoever caused the failure of the subjugation force would also kill Kendall.

The White Snake Beastkin She had been mentioned a lot of times in the past chapters, and this time, we got more info about her, or more like, the people heading to her place.

Remember Maxi, the dead dragon with the future attribute, who Cale's group met in Central Plains? She once mentioned about a dragon with a past attribute whom she presumed to have died. But apparently, according to Pope Kesilia's intelligence, that dragon was still alive and pretending to be a fortune teller!

He was rumored to be traveling towards the residence of the white snake beastkin. And one more interesting fact, in the village he was said to be staying in, a crazy guy claiming to be a dragon slayer was there. Pope Kesilia deduced that crazy guy to be the wanderer who had eluded them months ago... Yeah, that's definitely CJG. 😂

The funny thing was, Kesilia thought it was those three who were behind the failure of the subjugation force. 😂 And she sent Kendall there, hoping that those three would kill Kendall.

DHB's Troubles Surprisingly, a quarter of today's chapter focused on the perspective of DHB. Having finished their interrogation of Jenyu, they found out that mbd were more like "living golems" than a chimera like DHB. The gem embedded on an mbd's chest was filled with dragon blood, and the beings who endured that gem were called mixed blood dragons. Thus, DHB thought that this world was horrible for creating those living golems.

This was followed by his confused thoughts and mixed feelings about the people who cared about him. Necromancer Mary patted him and left him because she thought he wanted some alone time. Sheritt brushed off the snow in his eyes, and talked to him kindly. And he felt that he was undeserving to receive a name from Cale.

His thoughts were quite sad, honestly. Whenever he saw Sheritt's smile, he sometimes saw her anger. Sometimes, her pity, sadness, or regret. But the "affection" he felt from her was something he thought to be only his illusion. He doubted that she would be affectionate to him, and that it was only him who wanted that affection.

He was more in pain than when he had a lifespan limit. Poor DHB wanted to live in the black castle forever because it was peaceful here. But at the same time, it was painful for him because it made him clearly remember his past sins.

Hardworking Jungwon Jungwon is back! He messaged Cale, reporting that a dragon had secretly entered Central Plains and was headed towards the Sichuan Province. Cale immediately figured out that it was the Dragon Lord who was searching for the ring of the dragon lord.

And Cale had his scam smile as he thought of taking advantage of the situation where the Dragon Lord was away. But Raon was scared of his smile, and Eruhaben looked at Cale strangely. 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Today was a good chapter as it fleshed out two characters and confirmed the existence of the past dragon and CJG. I wonder if the next chapter would be Cale's return to the black castle. Cale had said that he would give DHB a name at his return, so I'm hoping that we'll get DHB's naming scene soon!

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Hii

Teslen - 💘 for the snippets thing please? :))

Hiii! Thank you!

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

I'm feeling dared to kiss for some reason, so let's go with that one. (All three would probably end up multi-chapter fic length. 😂)

__

The burn of alcohol warmed Helen's throat and chest as she swallowed it, swallowing a snicker along with it.

The candles cast dancing shadows along the walls and ceiling, lending an atmosphere to their game as they sat in a circle, drinking.

Helen wasn't usually one to partake in drinking games, but when she had happened upon the group, which included Nikola and her old friend of all people.

With the power out and no generators running (again, she blamed Nikola wholeheartedly for that one) there wasn't much in the way of work to do and Helen had stepped into the room out of sheer curiosity for what they might be doing.

They had been involved in a drinking game and Helen had been invited to join them, because apparently Chuck had wandered out, calling it a night and they needed someone else.

Helen had accepted the spot between Nikola and Will graciously enough, satisfied that they weren't using her expensive alcohol, instead whatever someone--Henry, probably--had picked up at a shop.

Then the drinking and game had commenced.

It turned out they were a bastardized version of playing truth or dare, a distinctly adolescent game, but Helen had plenty of truths to share that she didn't mind and she usually came out on top in such a game.

Besides, she wasn't usually invited to join the younger--much younger--generations in this sort of thing and it was something of a novelty.

It wasn't long before she discovered that Nikola had pretty much barged his way into the game and she gave him a look.

He grinned at her and took a sip of his wine as he did.

"Wine can be involved, Helen. Did you honestly expect me to stay away?"

"Coupled with the chance to cause chaos, I don't know why I am surprised." she replied.

Nikola smirked and Helen sipped her own drink, letting her gaze linger on him for a few moments before she looked away.

"You guys aren't supposed to be drinking between rounds." Will teased.

"It's not a very high-stakes game." Nikola said, deliberately taking another sip of his drink. "Considering that the drinking part is a cop out if we don't want to do it."

Helen had a feeling that the dare half of the game had taken a backseat now that she had joined. Judging from the guilty look Henry had had, at least one thing had already happened that she was going to find out later.

That was fine.

Helen knew most of what was gotten up to in her house and she didn't mind when the others had their fun.

She also had a feeling that Nikola had been abusing the truth half of the game with an effort to get the others drink, if the hazy look in Henry, Will, Kate, and Abby's eyes were any indication.

"It's not about stakes, dude." Henry protested. "It's about having fun."

"Hmm. Well, I'm winning."

Helen rolled her eyes and lowered her glass to her lap, glancing at her old friend, who rolled his eyes back at her.

She held back a smile, wondering how he had gotten involved in the game, but deciding she rather liked the mystery.

As the game progressed, with much laughter and more drinking, especially when Nikola was the one dolling out the truth or dare, she found her gaze drawn back to the vampire beside her more often than they really should have been.

In the dim, flickering light, Helen thought that she could get away with looking at him more than she usually did or usually allowed herself.

The shadows played his features in interesting ways and Nikola caught her looking at him a time or two, smirking at her each time that he did.

Helen did implement a rule on Nikola having to answer more questions than drinking when he didn't want to, because he couldn't get intoxicated like the others.

"Drinking games are supposed to be fair." he protested.

"Drinking games aren't supposed to be played with people who have an unfair advantage."

Helen patted his knee and squeezed it before letting go, pulling her hand back into her lap quickly as Nikola's eyes dropped to where it had been and then back up to her.

"It's not my fault I'm a vampire. It's yours."

"You were a willing participant."

Helen raised her glass again, eyeing Nikola as she did so.

She realized everyone else was watching them and she arched a brow that made them all quickly look away.

"Okay, my turn." Henry said, rubbing his hands against his jeans. "Tesla."

"Yes, Heinrich?"

"Did you really marry a pigeon?"

Helen nearly choked on her drink as she laughed and Nikola spluttered, expression and facial color going through changes in rapid succession.

"What?"

Henry grinned and Helen bit her lip as Nikola glared.

"Answer the question, Nikola. You aren't allowed to drink with this one."

"You know the answer." he snapped at her.

"Ah, but they don't."

"No. I have no clue who started that rumor, but it is completely untrue."

Henry grinned.

Helen could still feel laughter shaking her chest, despite her efforts. Even when the rumor had started, she had found it incredibly amusing, mostly because she had known what Nikola's reaction to it be.

Nikola knocked back what was left in his glass and Helen handed him the bottle that she had nestled beside her before he could ask for it.

He filled the glass absurdly high, making her shake her head. He couldn't get drunk, but Nikola certainly had a flair for the dramatic.

As the game continued on, Helen noticed that Nikola had shifted closer and closer to her. Subtly, but he had certainly moved closer to her than he had been when she had sat down.

Eventually, it was her old friend's turn.

"Truth or dare?" he asked her.

"Dare."

The alcohol was making her feel warm and a little loose and she might as well see what he could come up with.

"Kiss."

He pointed at her and Nikola.

Helen's breath hitched and her heart seemed to stop for a moment as she looked at Nikola.

She was almost afraid of just how much she wanted to do that. Nikola was watching her intently and the others had all gone quiet to see what she would do.

Helen swallowed and took a breath, though that did nothing to calm how hard her heart was beating at the thought of closing the gap between them and pressing her lips against Nikola's.

Instead of giving into that fantasy, Helen raised her glass and drank.

She didn't lower her eyes in time to miss the look in Nikola's eyes, a mixture of hurt and disappointment.

The game didn't last long after that, much to her relief, and they all scattered to bed, Henry insisting that since he couldn't fix the power, Nikola should be the one to fix it again.

In the hallway, Helen faced Nikola, feeling a little more unsteady than she would have liked from the amount of alcohol she had consumed.

"Nikola...."

She had no idea what she was supposed to say. She hadn't meant to hurt him. She wanted to do it, but she was afraid, especially in front of so many other people, even if those people were her family.

He looked at her and she broke off. She couldn't give excuses.

Instead, she reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips.

It didn't last long and it was so light, Helen supposed it barely counted, but she hoped it conveyed what she needed it to, because she wasn't sure what she wanted it to convey.

She was feeling jittery at her own daring, something that hadn't happened in such a long time it made it feel more exhilarating than it probably should have.

Nikola stared at her in surprise, eyes searching her face.

"You're drunk, Helen."

"No." Helen gave him a small smile. "I'm not."

Nikola's eyebrows drew together for a moment and he searched her face again, this time like he was searching for a lie, not an explanation.

Helen let him, because she knew he would find none.

Then she gently rested her hand on his chest.

"Goodnight, Nikola."

She brushed her lips against his cheek this time, tightened her fingers for a moment, then turned and walked away down the hall, leaving Nikola behind to realize just what that kiss had meant.

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

A different kind of Haunted

Summary: You and your friends visit a haunted house, but what you find is not what you expected.

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!reader (plus-size)

Warnings: 18+content, self-esteem issues/body image issues, stalking, obsessive behaviour, non-consensual sexual acts, mentions of loss (close family members), breeding kink

Word count: 8.6k (I am incapable of writing short things, forgive me)

A/N: This is my submission for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Halloween writing challenge. Bless you for making this challenge open-ended, truly, because I cannot meet deadlines for the life of me. Especially since my inspiration has died in a corner behind my closet and I couldn’t get to its rotting corpse until a few weeks ago. I managed to revive that little shit. It’s... different now but we gotta work with what we got, lol 😂

Anyhow, my prompt was “Your friends dare you to sneak into the old house said to be haunted.” 

I interpreted it in a way that may not be what you expect, but I liked the idea so much and I hope y’all like it too! ☺️

...

You blow out a low sigh, eyes tracking the clowd of your warm breath as it hangs in the cold air around you. Your hands are frozen, cold fingers curling around the edges of the book you're holding.

The end of October came with a harsh drop in temperature and to you it feels like nature decided to skip autumn alltogether to dive headlong into the cold, dark winter months.

If it wasn't for the colourful leaves scattering about the cold ground and floating through the air, driven by freezing winds, you could have sworn it is winter already.

You close the book – a rather lenghty novel you couldn't quite get into – and set it down on the bench next to you. Stretching out your legs in front of you, you supress a ywan and glance at the neatly arranged plants decorating the rectangular grave a few feet away from where you sit.

It had taken a while for you to get the hang of maintaining your parents' grave. Your eyes wander over the small, grey headstone that has their names and the dates of their birth and death etched into it. The latter is the same.

The first couple of months you hadn't done much of anything but sit at the grave and cry your eyes out for hours on end, but as time passed, you slowly gathered the shattered pieces of your being and put them back together in a manner that has you functioning more or less.

You did research on how to maintain graves, took walks around the graveyard to get some inspiration from the numerous other graves and eventually settled into properly taking care of the one that was, and still is, your responsibility.

This is the first time you actually planted some things instead of just putting loose flowers or arrangements on the slightly overgrown grave. It was a tedious task, but you still remember the sense of accomplishment you felt when you looked at the neatly groomed grave, long lasting flowers and greens framing the simple headstone.

The nice lady at the flower shop was really helpful with choosing the correct plants. You got a pretty Christmas Rose, an extraordinary kind with pinkish petals instead of the usual white or green, a pink heather, a plant with little red berries on it – gaultheria, you recall the name the florist told you – and a pretty ivy that had nice white edges instead of being fully green like the normal kind.

It's not overly colourful, but the flowers would survive the winter and make sure the grave doesn't look too bleak during the cold months of the year.

You shake your head, pulling yourself out of the reverie you had fallen into and push to your feet with a grunt, stiff legs wobbly under you. The book is stowed away in your backpack and you walk up to the grave, two fingers sweeping along the headstone.

“See you tomorrow, guys. Love you,” you say quietly, the familiar prick of welling tears promting you to quickly turn away and gaze out at the bench before leaving for the day. You will return tomorrow, as you do every day.

You tredge along the same path you always take, tall trees and bushes lining it on both sides. There's a quiet crack in the underbrush to your left, but you know better than to turn around and check for the source.

The first months you were terrified of walking along the quiet paths alone, jerking at every crack or rustle, but with time you learned that there's many a critter living in the hedges or tall trees growing everywhere on the large graveyard.

Birds, squirrels, bunnies, one or the other stray cat and more than a few moles call the graveyard their home and none of them are very threatening.

You keep walking, feet dragging across the path, fallen leaves crunching under the soles of our thick boots. After about five minutes you near the gate and pass it swiftly, stepping out into the street and leaving the eerie quiet of the graveyard behind.

-

“Guys!” Georgie screeches, wild curls bouncing around her round face as she hops over to the small group of girls standing outside their lecture hall.

The girls turn around to watch their classmate approach. She's holding a piece of paper in one hand, the other is waving at them excitedly. When she stops before them, she's a little out of breath.

“Look what I found! Now we finally have plans for Halloween!” the tall girl exclaims triumphantly and waves the paper in front of their faces. Nika, a short blonde, lets out an irritated huff and snatches the fluttering piece of paper from her friend's hand.

“Gimme that,” she says gruffly, annoyed at Georgie's excitable demeanour. She straightens the slightly crumpled piece of paper out – a flyer – and scans the text printed on the colourful background, obviously Halloween themed.

“A haunted house, really?” Nika snorts and hands the flyer back to Georgie. The tall girl pouts at the other's unenthusiastic response and holds the paper to her chest.

“What? None of you have come up with any good suggestions yet and we're not spending Halloween on Hailee's couch watching horror movies again,” Georgie argues, handing the paper off to Jasmine who is standing next to her.

“Where did you find this, Gigi? I don't think I've heard anyone else talking about this event,” the brunette asks, passing the flyer on to Hailee as you watch on, brows raised and growing increasingly curious about what it says on the flyer.

“The flyer looks real enough, there's even a date on it... Is there a prize or something for doing this? Or is that just one of these haunted houses someone decorated that you can walk through to get spooked?” Hailee ponders, turning the paper over, but finding the back blank.

“I don't know, it doesn't say on the flyer. But whatever it is, I'm sure it beats staying at home and doing nothing. We should go out a little, have fun,” the curly-haired girl shrugs.

“It says to brings warm clothes, snacks and something to sit on,” you state, brows pinching in confusion at the instructions.

“Oh, yeah. Read at the bottom. You're only allowed to go in one at a time. The others have to wait outside. I doubt you guys wanna stand in the cold and freeze your but off. Hence the warm clothes, snacks and something to rest on,” Georgie explains.

You skip to the bottom and read the words confirming what Georgie said. You hum and scan the flyer for the address. When you see it, you make a sound at the back of your throat.

“What is it?” Nika asks, leaning forward to look at the flyer again.

“I know where this is. It's next to the graveyard. The property borders on one side of it, I can see it from where I usually sit. Well, the part of it that peeks over the old fence anyway. That place is old as hell though. I don't know if it's safe to walk around there,” you note.

“If it wasn't safe, then I doubt someone would offer a haunted house tour. For free, too! I guess that means it might not be the most high-quality experience, but we can still have fun,” Georgie says.

“Mh, I suppose so,” Jasmine agrees with a shrug. “I don't have anything better to do anyway. Not planning on going to any of the campus parties, they get out of hand way too quickly. I don't like the rowdy atmosphere.”

“True. We could bring food and drinks. I have an insulated picnic blanket and with a few pillows we could set up camp in front of the house,” Hailee pipes up.

“I have a portable space heater! Don't want to freeze my ass off waiting outside,” Nika adds, still a little reluctant. She doesn't seem too convinced, but if the rest of the group is going to join in on this little venture, she won't say no.

“I can bring my portable speaker. Some music can never hurt,” Georgie says, a wide grin spreading on her face as her friends come around to her idea.

You sigh, still not too sure about this endeavour. The porperty was old, falling apart. And now apparently also 'haunted'.

“Come ooon, don't leave us hanging,” Georgie whines you name. She must've seen undecided expression on your face.

With a roll of your eyes you hand the paper back to her and grumble your agreement.

“Yay! Okay, okay, we'll plan this out later in the group chat yeah? I can make a list of things we need and everyone throws in what they can bring,” the tall girls says, stuffing the flyer back into her bag, already fully entering her planning mode.

You agree together with the other girls, the idea slowly sinking in. You suppose hanging out with your friends is better than holing away in your room to study or binge-watch whatever series catches your attention.

Even if the haunted house turns out to be a fluke, you still have music, food, drinks and your friends. That alone is more than enough for a good time. You'd enjoy it. Getting out of the house will be good for you.

-

The sky is already dark when you arrive. The soft glow of the few interspersed street lights do little to brighten the dark, eerie street.

The graveyard is located in a quieter area of the city, most houses in the close vicinity run down and abadnoned. No one wants to live anywhere near where the dead are buried.

You walk along the asphalt of the sidewalk, the old path uneven with many cracks in it where the roots of old trees broke through or an especially persistent weed fought its way to the surface.

You can already see your friends, hear them too, when you near the property. They already set up camp, so to say, a few lanterns and the space heater placed around the big blanket that sits in the middle of the overgrown lawn that sprawls in front of the wooden porch at the front of the house.

Georgie calls out your name when she sees you entering through the iron-wrought gate, the old thing creaking in its hinges when you push it open with a huff.

“Hey! You're the last. We've already got everything set up. Come one,” the curly-haired girl says cheerily, patting the free space on the blanket next to her.

You walk over and greet the others before plopping down on the blanket with a groan. Your thick puffer jacket swishes and bunches out around your middle when you sit down, the collar moving higher with the shift. You tilt your chin up and adjust the jacket so it doesn't cover half your face.

“That jacket really isn't flattering,” Nika points out with a half smile, not necessarily mean-spirited, but rather honest in an unfiltered way.

You roll your eyes and try to smooth down the puffed out front with little success. You instinctively try to suck in your stomach and straighten your back, but it doesn't change your appearance much.

“Don't be mean, Nika,” Jasmine interjects, sending you an apologetic smile while elbowing the blonde next to her. “Everyone looks a little round in these things, not only...”

Jasmine trails off, but you still hear the unspoken words floating in the air.

'Not only fat people'

Well, she probably would've phrased it a little more flowery, saying something along the lines of solidly build, chunky, curvy, soft, chubby or plump. Basically anything to avoid the word 'fat'.

You don't mind much. People need to get over the stigma that is connected to the word and you know very well you have a few extra pounds to you.

Most of the time it doesn't bother you too much, having taken the time to try your best and grow comfortable with your body the way it is instead of trying to conform to the propaganda society throws at you every waking hour.

But in moments like this, when someone points out your extra bits so blatantly, the old self-consciousness and shame come crawling back out of the hole you buried them in.

“It keeps me warm and it's comfortable,” you say, shrugging non-commitedly and hoping to move on from the topic before more old demons are stirred up inside you.

“That's what matters, practicality over looks,” Hailee says and points up at her knitted cap. It's green and has two eyes attached to it so the hat resembles a frog. You recall her telling you her grandma had knitted it for her when she was a child. It may be quirky, but it it's warm and comfortable.

“True, true,” Georgie says dimissively and then continues talking. “Anyway, now that we're all here, I suggest one of us should take the lead and get that haunted house experience.” She giggles gleefully, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she eyes her friends.

“The first is always the most exciting! The rest of us can can get started on the drinks and plating up the snacks. I'm starving,” Hailee adds, her green eyes glancing over to the pile of both home-made and bought snacks.

“Well, I guess that means you're going first,” Nika teases and nods at Hailee.

“What? Why me? I wanna eat first,” the girl whines. Nika snorts.

“You're the one who just said the first is the most exciting,” she retorts and then chuckles when she sees Hailee stick out her tongue.

“I don't wanna go first, I'm a crybaby. I need someone to tell me what's happening first or I'll pee my pants and die from a heartattack,” Jasmine declares dramatically, causing the rest of the girls to let out a mix of groans and laughter.

“It's just an old house, I doubt whoever organised what's inside put a lot of effort in,” you say and look up at the house looming over your group.

The windows are boarded up, a few of the shutters hanging only off of one hinge. The light blue paint once covering the wooden fassade is flaking off and the porch is almost overrun by wild growing weeds.

It is intimidating in a way, the sheer size of the slowly rotting building and the desolate windows that look like black maws giving it the typical horror movie feel.

“I don't even know if we're really allowed to be here. Maybe this belongs to someone. We could get in trouble for tresspassing,” you add, the thought only now popping into your head, rousing a whole new collection of concerns that start swirling in your head.

“I doubt it belongs to anyone. There aren't any signs and there was no indicator that said to stay away. The gate wasn't looked either,” Georgie says. “I mean, look at this place. I'm sure no one is missing it or would mind a couple of girls having a good time.”

She gestures at their surroundings and the other girls look around, mumbling their agreement.

You look around, too, taking in the wooden fence to your right. You know the graveyard is behind it. The rest of the property is surrounded by an old wire fence that has more holes than one could count. There is an old wooden shed towards the back of the garden on the left side of the house. The door is boarded up and the roof has a hole in it.

You let your gaze drift farther. Beyond the wire fence is a beaten path that leads past the property you and your friends reside on. You can barely make out a crumbling brick building on the other side of the path, this neighbouring building not looking any better than the one you are supposed to set foot in.

“I guess,” you agree reluctantly and shrug. Georgie rolls her eyes.

“I think you should go first, spoilsport. You can see for yourself there's nothing bad going on. Just a haunted house,” Georgie says and wiggles her eyebrows at you. You cross your arms.

“Why don't you go first?” you challenge, but Georgie just cackles and wags her finger at you.

“No, no, my friend. You're not getting out of that one. Come up, get your ass up,” she orders, digging her elbow into your side. You hiss and pull away.

“Fine, whatever,” you huff and heave yourself to your feel. Smoothing down your jacket, you make sure your phone is still in the pocket and straighten up fully. “If I die because some rotten floorboards give away under me, you're paying for my funeral.”

The girls laugh and you feel your lips twitch against your will.

“Just step lightly, you klutz. You're not that heavy,” Jasmine jokes and the small smile you wear quickly turns tense.

“Yeah, I guess not.”

There's a short moment of silence before Hailee pipes up.

“Oh! We should all take a selfie when we're inside. An additional challenge of sorts. Whoever gets the best picture in the creepiest setting wins!”

“Great idea, Hailee,” Georgie agrees and then turns to you. “Go on, we'll be waiting for you. You better get a good picture, too. I wanna make a collage with them so we never forget today.”

She shoos you away and you turn on your heel, waving over your shoulder as you walk towards the house. You almost prefer the house over your friends at the moment. They are nice enough, but some remarks are just needlessly rude. They just never seem to see it the way you do, telling you it was a joke or that you're overreacting.

“Get your crap together, this night is supposed to be fun,” you scold yourself and ascend the rickety stairs of the porch. When you approach the door, you see the same flyer Georgie showed the group a couple of days ago pinned to the brittle wood.

Pushing away any further hesitancy, you push down the handle and open the door. You can hear the girls shouting behind you, wishing you good luck.

You don't turn around, just step forward and let the door slowly swing back into place with a disturbing creak that echoes in the old house.

You take a deep breath and slowly walk forward, looking for any kind of clue that might tell you in which direction to go first. But there's nothing, or at least you don't see anything, so you set off towards the closest room.

It turns out to be a living room. The furniture is old, upholstery rotting and wood hollow from time. The floorboards groan under your feet, scattered paper and debris crunching under your boots. A stiff breeze rattles the windows and the entire house groans eerily.

You swallow hardly. There's nothing actually scary going on yet, no jumpscares or mysterious silhouettes in corners. And still, your fear mounts with every passing minute.

You don't like this anymore and you find yourself longing for some company. Going in alone was stupid. You should've just ignored the rule and went in teams.

Because now you are all allone in an old, creepy house, the rotten smell of decaying wood in the air and your mind playing tricks on you by making every shadow or foreign form out to be a creature waiting to bring your demise.

Whirling around, you quickly walk back out of the living room and enter the hallway you came from. Maybe you should just go back outside and pretend to having finsihed the tour.

You shake your head. They wouldn't buy it, you've barely been in here for five minutes.

As you stand and ponder over your options, still wincing at every unexpected sound or moving shadow, a flicker at the edge of your vision catches your attention.

You pivot and face the set of stairs leading to the first floor. There it is. A weak flicker dances across the wall at the end of the stairs. It's warm and unsteady, reminding you of a candle.

Your gaze sweeps along the other doors that lead away from the hallway and into more unknown rooms, then back to the flicker upstairs.

“Let's just get this over with,” you whisper to yourself, the sound of your voice loud and at odds with the symphony of creaks, groans and clattering that echoes through the house.

You head towards the stairs and start climbing them, one hand firmly on the rail should you slip or the wood give away. If you go upstairs now you'll be done quicker. You'll just have a quick look around, try to find a location for the picture and then leave. Easy peasy.

The stairs grown under your weight and you reach up to wipe your damp forehead, the skin wet from fear and worry. This whole haunted house thing is putting you through the ringer in a way you couldn't have antcipated.

Grumbling at your own silliness, you finally reach the top of the stairs. The light is brighter now and you look down both sides of the hallway. The flickering is coming from your left so you head in that direction, your heart pounding in your chest and a cold sweat breaking out along your back and under your pits.

'Maybe it's just some homeless people,' you think, your sweaty hands clutching at the phone you retrieved from your pocket once you reached the top of the stairs.

'Or a trick from the person who arranged this... It's nothing scary, nothing real. Stay calm.'

Tiptoeing towards the source of the light – a slightly ajar door at the end of the corridor – you try to measure your breaths. Every loud creak your steps cause make you wince.

“This is so stupid,” you breathe out. “Get your shit together.”

The door is right in front of you now and you take a few breaths, hyping yourself up and gathering enough courage to push the door open.

The wooden door moves ever so slightly under the gentle push of your fingertips and to your relief this particular door doesn't screech noisily. In fact, it glides open rather smoothly.

You peek around the wood, hands holding your phone to hard you're almost afraid the screen is gonna crack.

What you see is not at all what you expected.

The room, unlike every other part of the house you saw, is clean. There's no debris or paper littering the floor and the furniture looks old, but well kept. Like someone made the effort to patch it up and keep it in shape so it doesn't rot away like the rest of the furniture in the house.

“What the hell,” you mutter, pushing the door all the way open and straightening up.

A bed comes into view. The metal frame is a little rusty, but the mattress and everything on it looks new. This room lookes like someone's been living in it and while the house's dilaptidation couldn't be hidden entirely, it still looks decent.

The next strange thing are the candles lit everwhere, the source of the flickering you saw from downstairs. They are scattered across the floor around the bed, one candle is placed on each bedside table and a few more are placed on the other surfaces in the room.

Your eyes wander over the bizarre scene and you briefly throw a glance over your shoulder before stepping inside the room.

A window comes into view, embedded into the wall to your left. In front of it stands a wooden chair, a thing cushion placed on the seat. It's placed in a way to makes it seem like whoever put it there sat down on it to look outside. On the window sill sits a pair of binoculars.

Curious, but no less scared, you appraoch the chair and stand behind it to see what view would warrant the binoculars. You bend down a little and peer through the window and out into the dark.

It's hard to see outside, what with the candles inside the room reflecting off the window and the darkness of the night. Fortunately, the moon decided to shine in all it's glory that night, chasing away some of the impenetrable darkness.

“What...” you mumble, eyes honing in on the view.

The window faces the graveyard. It takes you a moment to realise it and when you do, you glance away from the view to look at the binoculars sitting on the sill. What on earth would a person be watching on a graveyard?

You carefully reach for the binoculars, another glance over your shoulder ensuring your solitude before you pick them up. As soon as you lift them from their place, you freeze.

Underneath the pair of clunky binoculars sits a sketch pad. The drawing on the first page is dark, drawn with coal by the looks of it. But that isn't what makes you halt your actions. It's the motive that chills you to the bone.

It's you, sitting on the bench by your parents' grave with a book in hand, your backpack sitting by your feet.

Dropping the binoculars, you hastily scurry away from the window. Your heartbeat picks up again, the organ thundering inside your chest, beating against your ribs frantically.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” you whisper, your sweaty fingers losing their grip on your phone. It clatters to the floor.

“Do you like it?”

You choke on a scream and jump. You heave out a cough and clumsily whirl around, feet twisting beneath you and making you stumble.

“Careful, sweetheart. You're gonna hurt yourself.”

A man steps past the threshold, his frame filling out the doorway as he ducks through and comes closer.

You want to scream, but you're still coughing up your spit, one hand pressed to you heaving chest as you back away from the approaching man.

His features are lit by the flickering candles, his huge body throwing an even bigger shadow against the wall. He raises his hands towards you and you finally manage to choke out a croaky screech.

“Hey, hey! That's not the reaction I was expecting, sweetheart,” the man scolds.

You try to make a run for it, your shaky legs compelling you to run, hide, get away from whoever this man, this stalker is.

Your efforts are quickly put to an end. The hulking giant of a man flings a thick arm out and catches you around the middle, yanking you back and cutting off your escape route.

You start to thrash immediately, your mouth opening to let out another scream. But before the sound can leave your lips and alert your waiting friends, the man's big hand clamps over your lips, sucessfully muffling the sound behind his huge palm.

Using his grip on both your face and midsection, he hauls your wriggling body against his, your back pressed to his broad chest. He meanly digs fingers into your face and you whimper, whipping your head side to side to try and dislodge his painful grip.

“I suggest you calm down, sweetheart. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Can't have you ruining it with your hysterics,” the growls lowly, the sound of his voice rumbling against your back.

You shake helplessly in his arms, tears of pure terror welling in your eyes as you keep thrashing in this stranger's hold. Your breath comes in choppy pants your panic threatens to swallow you hole and you kick your legs out uselessly.

In a short moment of clarity, you lift your legs and drop your entire weight down, hoping to dislodge the tight grip the stranger has on you, but he doesn't budge. Not as much as a grunt comes from him as you let your limp body hang from his arms.

He lets out a chuckle, dark and condescending, and squeezes your middle until you wheeze.

“You gotta try a little harder than that if you want to break my hold. Not that you could, but I suppose it is a valiant effort,” he says, a mocking tone to his voice. His hold loosens around you and you suck in a deep breath now that you ribs are no longer constricted by his iron grip.

“It's not a fair fight, you see,” he continues, shifting his grip from your middle to swiftly gather your wrists in one big hand, bending your arms and holding them still against your chest. “I could hold you down with two of my fingers and you wouldn't be able to get away.”

He twists your around, his hand still holding yours captive against your chest, but his other leaves your mouth in favour of framing your vulnerable neck.

You owlishly blink up at him, your muscles trembling with the adrenaline cursing through them, tears gathering along the rim of your eyes. Your jaw is clenched shut, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Such a scared little bunny,” the man coos, his thumb stroking along the soft skin of your throat. “This isn't quite how I imagined this to go, but we'll make the best of it, hm?”

“What do you want from me?” you burst out, your jaw unclenching long enough to let the question snap out. You tug at your hands and try to take a step back, but the hand at your throat tightens to keep you in place and you sputter, quick to stop your movement.

“It's not about what I want from you, but what I can give you, bunny girl,” he says, shifting his stance slightly. The flames of a few candles close to you light up his face for the first time since he stepped foot inside this room and you see the sick smile stretching his lips behind the thick beard covering the lower half of his face.

Your eyes jump over his features, taking in the beard, the shape of his jaw, his nose and his eyes... His eyes, dark with wide-blown pupils that only leave a sliver of his irises visible. You can't make out their colour in the dim light, but you still recognise him.

A whole new kind of terror sweeps through you and you unwittingly start to pull at your wrists, fighting to escape his grip, his surprisingly strong grip. Not so surprising anymore now.

“Oh, the penny has dropped,” the man snickers, flicking his head to the side briefly to shake a strand of his grown out hair away from his eyes. It used to be short. And his face was always shaven clean.

“You see, being on the run is quite the tiresome task, sweetheart. Moving from one location to the other, avoiding the authorities, hiding in the shadows. It gets lonely, you know.”

He yanks on your arms and tightens his grip on your throat. He walks you towards the bed, pushing until you sink down on it, legs dangling over the side.

“I've been hiding out here for a while now. Months, to be more specific. It's bleak, boring. But I found something to entertain me. A little bunny that hops by my window every day and sits pretty just for my eyes to see.”

He's been watching you. America's hero, fallen from grace and now off the deep end too, has been stalking you, eyes following you when you sat unsuspectingly, visiting your passed parents, seeking out their lost affection, their comforting presence.

You feel sick, the terror knotting in your stomach as you struggle to breathe through the tight grip Steve Rogers has on your throat.

It really isn't a fair faight. He could snap your neck without blinking and you can't even get him to let go of your hands. Hands that he is holding with only one of his.

“You're lonely, too. So alone, no family left now that mommy and daddy are gone. But you're a good daughter, still. Visiting them, taking care of their grave. So good with your hands, sweetheart. The grave looks beautiful with those plants you picked out,” the Soldier croons, looking down at you with an adoring expression that makes you heart drop somewhere in the vicinity of your knees. He really is mad.

“Don't- Don't talk about my parents you freak,” you manage to squeak, a wheezing sound what with your limited ability to breathe.

“Mind your manners, bunny. I don't appreciate being cursed at. I made all this for you, as a surprise. To make our first time special,” Steve grits out, giving you a shove that sends you bouncing against the mattress.

His hands are finally off your body and you use the opportunity to crawl away from him, huddling on the other side of the mattress while catching your breath. Your throat throbs from his harsh grip.

Steve walks over to the door and closes it, then he turns around to face the bed.

“You need me, sweetheart. You just don't know it yet. I can give you everything you need, everything you lost. I lost a lot of things too. We can be good for each other,” he explains, his face shockingly genuine.

You can't believe what you're hearing. This man is bonkers. He lost his mind. You don't even know him outside his famous Soldier persona. He's a wanted war criminal. And yet here he stands, claiming to know you, speaking about whatever delusion he's crafted in that sick head of his.

'A wanted war criminal that has set his sights on me. Just my luck.'

“Don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna hurt you,” Steve declares and then strides over towards the bed. As he moves closer, he smoothly strips off the thick sweater he's wearing, then the black tank top underneath.

You just stare, frozen in shock. Your mind is reeling, muscles locked in a cowering position.

His thick, muscular chest comes into view, a layer of dark hair covering the taut muscle. Imaptiently toeing off his boots, Steve leans on the bed. Once they're off, he fully climbs onto the mattress, the soft material dipping beneath his weight and jostling you from your stupor.

“No!” you shout and launch off the bed, but not fast enough. A strong hand latches around your ankle, dragging your upper body back up on the back and towards him.

“No, no, no! Let me go, HE-”

A harsh slap whips your head to the side. Your ears ring with the force of it, the ceiling swimming before your eyes for a solid thirty seconds before you can focus enough to work through what just happened.

Steve is straddling your thighs, his teeth bared when he reaches the collar of your puffer jacket and rents the fabric down the middle, busting the zipper and tearing the dark material.

You cry out again. The side of your face throbs and Steve's rough handling hurts your arms, but you can't do much to deter him as he rips the jacket down your arms and then pulls it out from under you to discard it on the floor. Your pullover suffers the same fate, your bra swiftly following suit.

You start to cry, the severity of the situation finally dawning on you. Shaky arms try to cover your exposed chest, but the blonde man above you growls, slapping the weak limbs to the side and reaching out to cup the soft flesh in his calloused hands.

“So pretty, bunny,” he groans, kneading your chest and stroking your nipples. The sensitive peaks pebble in the cold air and from his incessant ministrations.

“Stop, stop, please,” you exclaim tearily, hands hitting at his arms and shoulders, your legs kicking aimlessly behind him.

“You'll be crying for me to touch you soon enough,” Steve says gruffly and rises from his perch on your thighs to flip you onto your stomach. He turns around, settling his weight on your lower back until you squeal in pain.

His hands reach for your jeans and he begins to roughly pull them down, taking your panties with them as he shoves them over the curve of your ass, the fabric scratching you roughly in the process. He wrestles your shoes off and in a matter of seconds you're left completely bare beneath his strong body.

Steve's hands crawl across the backs of your thighs, easily dodging you swinging calves, and then moves up to slap your ass, a delighted grunt coming from him when he watches your flesh jiggle.

“What a nice piece of ass. Love me a girl with some extra on her,” he says, greedily squeezing you bum and thighs.

You grimace at his words, a sob lodging in your throat. Your tears overflow as you're groped and prodded like a piece of meat.

“Please, please, let me go,” you quaver, but your pleas fall on deaf ears. Steve is intent on getting from you what he wants and there's no stopping him.

You let out a weak shout when he finally lifts himself off you back and turns you back around to face him. He's swift to push you further onto the bed and away from the edge of the mattress.

Your limbs start to flail, but he wrestles his way between your legs before you have a real chance to get away.

“Not going anywhere, sweet girl. You're mine,” the former hero rasps. He rests a hand next to your head, partially leaning his weight on you as his other reaches down to pull off his own pants and underwear. He kicks both off the bed, all the while pinning you down with just his torso.

You can feel the hot length of him touching your chilled skin. Every inch of his bare body touching yours sends a wretched shiver through you. You want to throw up, scream, cry. And most of all do you want him off of you. You don't want any part of him touching you, you don't want him looking at you, breathing in your face and cooing false promises. You want none of it.

In a last valaint effort you gather all your strength and start to thrash underneath him. You pull your legs up to your chest and kick out, hitting him on the shoulder before he can duck out of the way.

He raises one arm to shield his face and you take the opening, rolling to the side where his arm is no longer caging you in.

A feral growl rips through the burly man's chest as you slip off the bed. He lifts himself to his knees and lauches forward, just catching you elbow in his grip and yanking harshly.

You exclaim and stumble backwards, thrown off-kilter by the sudden pull. Steve doesn't hesitate to use your unsteady stance and brings you back towards the bed, his long arms wrapping securely around your body and dragging you onto the mattress.

“You'll learn to love it, you'll see. This is what you need!” the blond man barks, frustration bleeding into his features at your ongoing struggle.

Discarding any caution or gentleness, Steve wrestles you onto your side and spoons you from behind. His hard body molds against you back, one of his strong legs shoving between yours. He claps one hand over your mouth, muffling your protests. His other arm wraps around your middle, leaving you completely immobilised.

The only sounds audible in the candle-lit room are your heavy breaths and muffled whimpers. Tears still leak out of your eyes, drawing wet paths over your hot face.

“Hush, bunny. You'll enjoy this just as much as I will,” Steve promises gravelly. The arm around your middle shifts, calloused fingers finding your breasts. He pinches and strokes, giving the flesh the occasional squeeze as he explores you to his hearts content.

“You're perfect,” he grumbles, his lips seeking out your bared throat and pressing a chain of wet, prickly kisses to the sensitive skin.

You can do nothing but endure his touch, muscles still trembling but not fighting. You know it's no use. He's too strong, too big and fast. You'll never get away. If you let him, maybe he won't hurt you.

A tingle stirs deep in your belly when Steve gropes down your body, appreciatively squeezing every soft roll and dip along your side before slipping close to your core.

You tense, a loud whimper vibrating against the palm across you mouth. Steve just shushes you and shifts the leg he has lodged between yours, lifting it to open you up to him. Your soft thigh tenses against his firm, sinewy one, trying to force it back down to hide your most intimate parts from him, but it is no use. He's stronger than you.

“No hiding, bunny,” the Soldier grumbles, nipping your throat and making you squeak at the pain.

His hand reaches the curls on your mound, fingers continuing to dip lower until he reaches the petals of your sex. His middle finger seeks out your bundle of nerves with expert precision, lightly pressing on it and chuckling when you twitch against him.

He toys with the botton for a few moments before sliding lower, using his fingers to part your sticky lips and circle your entrance.

You're ashamed at the wetness gathered between your legs. It's not much, but it's there and you cringe at the feeling of the man's fingers dipping into it teasingly. A sad croak fights its way past your lips and Steve pats your pussy playfully, telling you not to be embarassed. It only heightens your shame.

“Your body knows what it needs, sweetheart. Getting slick for me, what a sweet pussy,” he sighs, the earlier tension gone from his voice.

You groan when Steve plunges a finger past your entrance without a warning, wriggling the thick digit around and pulling it out just to add a second one. He fucks you with his fingers, his thumb teasing your clit as he draws out your unwanted pleasure.

The tingle in your belly sparks into a flame and you helplessly wriggle in Steve's arms as the pleasure forced upon you mounts with every stroke of his fingers against you walls.

Small, unwanted sounds spill from you, little pants and whines sounding past the barrier of Steve's hand.

When the man crooks his fingers, shifting your legs further apart before plunging the digits back into your increasingly wet cunt, your back arches with a  squeal. Steve laughs gravelly and does it again, keeping up the motion of his hand.

You moan, tears squeezing past your tightly shut eyes as the wicked man massages your g-spot with unrelenting fingers. The action has you senseless. No one but you has ever managed to find this little place, much less work it with such precision.

Your body tenses, legs thrashing and arms aimlessly waving around while the pleasure mounts dangerously fast, winding your muscles tighter and tighter until you're ready to snap.

Steve rescinds the hand from your mouth, damp palm touching your hand when he gathers the flapping limb in his and intertwines your fingers in a sick gesture of intimacy. But the mounting pleasure inside you has you too distracted to fight it, so you let him hold your hand, your other one clinging to the duvet that is crumpled beneath your bodies.

“Come on, cum for me. I know you want to, your little pussy is squeezing my fingers,” Steve husks, chuckling at your senseless whines and gasps.

His thumb presses against your throbbing clit and with a few more strokes of his fingers, you fall apart.

“Yes! That's it, good girl, keep going,” Steve praises throatily, his hips bucking slightly against you lower back as you tremble in his arms, overcome by the most intense orgasm of your life.

It washes over you in waves and you're left boneless by the time the last of them passes over you. Your chest heaves, sweat dotting your brow.

Your mind is still reeling from the sensations you just experienced at the hands of this madman and you can do nothing but lie there limply when Steve shuffles away from you. You flop onto your back, your trembling thighs pressing together.

They don't stay like that for long, the blond's big hands prying them apart effortlessly. Not that you put up much of a fight.

He kneels between your legs and his hand reaches down to stroke his flushed and angry looking length, a few drops of precum bubbling from the tip.

He groans needily and adjusts his position, lining himself up to your glistening, puffy pussy.

You mewl pathetically, legs kicking weakly at either side of his hips when you feel the head of his cock nudging your folds apart.

“No...” you beg quietly, hands coming up to push at him. Steve wordlessly gathers your wrists in one hand and holds them against his chest. Your palm rests flat against his firm muscle and he leans over you just a bit, his free hand grabbing your thigh just above your knee and opening you up to his view.

He looks at your face when he tilts his hips and slides inside just a bit, marvelling at the scrunched up expression you wear.

He's big and the stretch burns despite his slow pace.

You whine low in your throat, the fingers resting against Steve's chest pushing at him, nails digging into his skin. He hisses at the sting but keeps pressing on.

“It hurts, please. You won't fit,” you cry out at last, hips twisting from side to side to dislodge him. Steve only tsks at your squirming and pulls back a little just to press forward again, inserting another inch into your spasming pussy.

“I'll fit, bunny. Don't you worry,” he grunts, letting go of your thigh to wipe away the tears rolling down your temples.

You grimace when he slides in even deeper, carving out a space for himself in your body, molding you to his shape. When Steve turns his hand to cup your face, you find yourself leaning into it, seeking comfort from the pain, the fear. Too bad that he's the source of it.

With a last jerk of his hips, Steve's entire length disappears into your straining pussy and you exclaim when you feel his hips resting against yours. He lets go of your hands and moves to grab both your legs, pressing them apart and up.

You feel horribly exposed to his hungry gaze, cringing at the way he stares between your legs when he pulls back and pushes back into you.

Every move of his hips forces a strangled sound from you, your chest bouncing with his still rather tame thrusts. He's savouring it, every push and pull through your quivering flesh.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve grunts, his groans and pants mingling with your squeaks and wheezes. His face is flushed, plump bottom lip caught between his white teeth.

He lets go of your legs after a few minutes of measured thrusting, dropping his upper body over yours. His cock slides out of you when he shifts and you whimper, your thighs immediately moving to close. But Steve's thick waist is in the way, so you endure the throbbing that pulses between your legs.

Steve settles above you, his hips cradled between your legs, strong arms to either side of your head. He briefly shifts his weight to reach down and line himself up again before pushing back inside with a throaty groan.

“Yes... what a good bunny you are, taking me so well,” he moans, his hot breath washing over your face. His hips move, finding a new rhythm and a new angle, one that has you seeing starts.

“Oh, oh... hngh,” you squeal out, hands reaching up to clutch at Steve's shoulders. “Fuck, oh.”

The man above you grunts his approval, keeping up his motion to hit your spot again and again, the tip of his erection sliding across with with every retreat and advance.

“There you go, doesn't that feel good? I told you I would make you feel good,” he growls, speeding up his thrusts and giving you no respite.

You babble, hands slipping along the Soldier's arms, unable to hold on to anything for long while he fucks you senseless with his sharp, angled thrusts. The fire in your belly ignites again, burning brighter with every stroke.

“Mh, fuck you're gonna make me cum,” Steve pants. His face is scrunched up, mouth hanging open as he revels in the feel of your wet, hot pussy clenching around him.

He leans to the side and reaches down, pressing his fingers along your slipper cunt, seeking out your clit and rubbing it earnestly.

You keen, back arching off the bed. It doesn't take more than a few rubs to make you come, your clit pulsing under his fingerpads as he keeps hammering away at your g-spot.

You let out a loud, gravelly moan, the sound quickly breaking off into a high-pitched whine when your pleasure peaks, a pressure unlike any you've felt before building in your belly and releasing with one last well-placed thrust.

You squirt all over Steve's cock, his pelvis and yours drenched in your cum as you shake pathetically underneath him, you hands slapping the mattress.

“Good fucking girl,” Steve growls, his eyes rolling back in his head when he feels you squirt over him, your walls bearing down on him as you tremble through your orgasm. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

He rescinds his hand from your overstimulated clit and drops down to his underarms above you, his hips bucking desperately against you.

You vaguely feel Steve's cock throb and twitch inside, followed by a primal groan above you.

The big man shakes with the force of his orgasm, unfiltered sounds rumbling from him as he paints your insides with his seed, pulse after pulse of it surging into you.

You moan weakly at the warm sensation of his spend, too tired and fucked out to listen to the alarm bells going off in the back your head at his actions.

Once Steve stops shaking, he lifts his sweaty face and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You may have lost your family, but we can make a new one together. You will never be alone again, sweetheart. Neither of us will be.”

Your eyes snap open, your sluggish thoughts clearing in seconds as you stare up at the former hero, pinned beneath his thick body after he took you against your will and came inside you without any form of protection.

“You'll make a good mother.”

His eyes meet your wide ones, a wicked smirk curling his mouth.

“No,” you breathe out, hands lifting and pushing at his chest, body squirming desperately to dislodge his cock still nestled inside you.

“Yes,” Steve hisses, snapping his hips against yours and wriggling them from left to right, letting you feel every inch of his rapidly hardening length. He does it again, cutting off the sob rattling in your chest and replacing it with a choked moan.

His hands wipe at your tears and he coos at you, shushing your sad, terrified sobs as he keeps working his hips against yours.

“You'll love it, trust me. I will take such good care of you.”

...

Ooooop, that was quite the wild ride 😆 I wrote this monster in one sitting and I did not proofread a single sentence. I cannot bring myself to care. Y’all are supposed to enjoy the story, not my immaculate spelling, lol 😳 (it’s not immaculate, it really isnt. And don’t get me started on punctuation...)

Anyhow, let me know what you think! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! 🖤

[kmp78]

"Nope, from Dec 2019 to March 2020 life was completely normal. VK traveled around the world on shoots, she and JL had cozy vacays on Kauai and in JT... And by May she was fully living at Casa Craphole as we saw in her birthday pics. 🎉🎁"

Shit didn't fully hit the fan and shut the whole world down until March, but it was very much a concern already by winter of '19. I was working in a retail store back then and we were already having trouble keeping in toilet paper, sanitizer, and Clorox wipes around Christmas. Word was out. Cases were popping up. And fear was growing.

Of course, she still went to shoots and on posh vacays. Why would the elite waste any time concerning themselves with anyone or anything else 🙄 Just like JL wandering into the desert without a fucking clue what was already very much happening around him. Literally everywhere.

When quarantine DID hit, I suppose they had a decision to make. Him being a giant germaphobe, it wouldn't surprise me if he told her she couldn't come and go. And her being such a googly eyed bimbo obviously chose to stay than to have to stay away for an unknown amount of time.

I still don't understand the her posting backgrounds and similar style pics vs his panic when she walked by, though. If they were finally a "solid couple" supposedly for months already and had been cozying up places, why the back and forth games still?

And wtf went down while they were stuuuck under the same roof that things ended so abruptly afterward?

Him finally agreeing to be a "proper boyfriend" to VK versus him being man enough to admit that publicly and especially to his Walking Wallets? 🤔

Yeah gee wonder why there were still theatrics... 🤷🏼‍♀️

Not to even mention the fact that he STILL keeps yapping about how he "SPENT LOCKDOWN AAAAAALL ALOOOOONE..." 🙃😂

Is his house haunted?

I mean... we all saw that eerie white figure floating across his garage right...? 😵👻

Very Ghostbustery! 🫣

[theintrovertbean]

you might've just nailed down why I cannot for the life of me feel involved into Nadia's romance. The way she talks about her family and sometimes treats MC is baffling and almost upsetting to me at times. I don't dislike her mind you, I think she's a great character, but when she starts complaining about the audacity of her family worrying about her running off as a small child… I end up liking her in other routes more than her own. Doesn't happen with any other LI. feels bad man

I see your point. She does have a unique and quite unjustified way of talking about her family that I just couldn't understand at first. I expected her siblings to be horrible people, but then Nasmira showed up, and she was possibly one of the nicest characters in the entire game. Made me look at Nadi and think, "Girl, what the hell is your problem? There's no way you are serious."

But, well, Nadia is royalty, the youngest person in her family, and she is definitely spoiled. I think those three things together ensured that baby Nadia had very little contact with children of her age. Most people in her family are much older than her, and she never really got to witness how kids are being treated outside of Prakran palaces. My point is that everyone else got treated like an adult while Nadia was babied. Only Nadia. I think she felt excluded and outlandish, like she didn't belong, not even in her family, which is not nice. Every child wants to be normal, and Nadia was the only person getting the baby treatment. She was already feeling very lonely, but that made her think she was completely alone in the world. We do know that Nadia has always yearned for companionship, and this is something that made her dream feel even farther away.

She really needs someone to bring a 9-year-old child to her and ask her if it's really okay for that tiny little thing to wander off alone in a forest. I bet that hesitantly, but Nadia would say no 😂 That is why dating an MC with younger siblings would do her good. She would finally understand the struggles of being an older sibling.

As for MC. Again, Nadia is a princess from a great nation, and whether we like it or not, even if she treats them like an equal, in theory, the canon MC is always going to be beneath her (not a bad thing if someone is into that wink wonk.) Initially, this shows in Nadia's attitude too, but I think she learns that titles aside, she and MC are both just people and nothing else in the world matters. She also realizes that despite their different titles and finances, she could learn so much from MC about being a person. That's it, just a person. Sure, countesses and princesses are people too, but their lives are so much different from a commoner's.

Nadia lives in an untouchable world where even the slightest bit of physical affection seems like the biggest crime. Would the maids dare to put a reassuring hand on the Countess' shoulder or, gayness forbid, give her a hug? Hell no, because they are fucking terrified of her and the consequences of forgetting their place. Would Nadia actually like someone to put a hand on her shoulder or give her a hug? Hell yes, but she, too, is bound to these kinds of rules and probably wouldn't even think about letting a staff member embrace her.

I'm not sure if it's still in the game, but I remember MC thinking something like they always accidentally touch with Asra because the shop is so small. MC notices that Nadia can't have it and that it makes her feel alone, but she also deserves to have physical affection in her life (this was right before their first kiss.) And this is what MC taught Nadia: that these shitty rules can get fucked, and it is okay to let (nice) people in.

I don't think she ever really looked down on MC (she pitied them at most), but she is pretty much used to bossing people around. I can understand that this was unusual for her and needed some time to adjust. Treating people like her equals is another lesson she had to learn, but I think she did succeed with that. We're gonna ignore the reversed ending because Nadia is undoubtedly superior to MC in that one.

However, in the upright ending, we have a cute, sweet, loving person looking at us like we are the most precious thing in the world, and she would do anything for us. Upright Nadia gives zero fucks about titles, riches, upbringings, or anything because she does not need any of those to love MC. At the same time, she can be herself. She no longer has to hide behind the Princess/Countess mask, she can let her walls down, just be Nadia, and love MC like there's no tomorrow.

The outer layers of her character get stripped down to reveal the kind of person that she is and she can be. She was very, very far from perfect. She was not necessarily bad at first either, but her past is questionable af. However, inside those layers, there's a woman who has been starving for love and companionship her entire life. Did she cause that starvation to herself? That's very possible. She certainly didn't make it easier for herself and the people around her. But MC must stand with Nadia at her lowest (which is the beginning of her route) to see the best version of herself she can be.

And did Nadia learn from her mistakes? Yes, she did. That is unquestionable. She did waste half of her life, but maybe that was the path she needed to take in order to open her eyes (literally.)

In the end, Nadia is a wonderful person and an amazing lover who has managed to leave the past behind for the better. Upright Nadia is baby. She went through a lot of character growth, and that's very beautiful. In the beginning, she is Countess, but in the end, she is just Nadia.

Good job, Nadi. We are proud of you.

[marinerainbow]

AH YES, Greasy ask time.

Alright, so since our talk yesterday (Or the day after if you're seeing this in the morning!!) about Shiny, mentioning Poppy as well AND Lottie... I've got this funny scenario in my head XD

Imagine versions of all these women from alternative universes in which they are each with 'their own' Greasy (Who have been left behind) somehow ending up all together in the universe where Greasy hurt Poppy!!

Grease thinks he's gonna get triple teamed, or that they're gonna fight over him 😂😂 welll...

... he is going to be very disappointed XD Like:

Greasy: 👀 Hola, mi hermo-

Shiny: Oh no don't you even look at me. Remember I still got those sheers, and they haven't been sharpened in a long time.

Greasy: -eugh, oh no... uh, well you? Little Charlotte? Will you be nicer to m-

Lottie, rifling through her bag: Uhh, I think I still have one of those cyanide pills from service in here...

Shiny: Hey, don't do-

Lottie: Oh no!, its not for me. For him.

Shiny: Ah. Fair enough. Y'know, I have a drink we can put it in?

Lottie: Great!-

Greasy: *Jumps back* You are your fathers daughter!! Fine! Poppy, surely, it will be you, then?...

Poppy: Um no?? I dont think so?? Don't touch me??-

Greasy: *reaches over anyway as Poppy inches away*

Psycho: *CHOMP*

(I'm so sorry if I got Shiny or Poppy wrong!!)

Ohhh my lord. Greasy, you done did it now XDD

First off, you got Poppy and Shiny absolutely right!!! I'm honestly so excited that you wrote Shiny and Lottie interacting in this! Even if it's only exchanging a few words. If she knew Lottie, Shiny would absolutely take on the role of cool but crazy aunt who helps prepare her for boy troubles.

(Did he really think he was gonna get triple action?? That he was gonna get hurt!Poppy again???? The audacity of this bitch-)

(Also, if this version of Greasy hit on Lottie, Shiny's ditching the sheers and grabbing a spoon for that operation. She couldn't save her best friend in time, but she for damn sure ain't gonna let Lottie get taken advantage of)

Meanwhile Poppy is looking at them like "You.. How... You guys could kill him!" "... Uh, yeah! That's the idea, honey!" "But-" "He hurt you! You should have the most incentive to get back at him!"

Also, I absolutely love the fact that Psycho popped up out of nowhere XD either he followed them, probably to make sure Pops is ok, or he got to be the exception to girls night because Poppy doesn't have any weapons with her if some guy harasses her. Psycho is her defense! Next to Shiny XD

Though imagine that conversation playing out XD

Lottie: Uh... Poppy? Watcha got there?

Poppy, holding Psycho's hand so he doesn't wander off: Psycho. He wanted to know if he could come with us?

Lottie and Shiny: *share a look, knowing that Poppy more than likely doesn't even have pepper spray on her in case things go south* ...

Shiny: Eh. Fine by me. But he better keep his paws away from my nachos. He still owes me a burger from the last time we hung out!

(She was originally going to be Smartass' sister, yet Shiny and Psycho have developed more sibling energy than I was prepared for XD)

Oooh imagine the Greasy Shiny is with being there though?? Like, in that timeline, he and Poppy didn't 'date' before. They're friends! How do you think he'd respond to the fact that another version of himself hurt her? Would he be in Shiny's corner or would he hesitate because that is, technically, still him?

This was fun to read in the morning! Thank you for sending it in! ^^

[shrinkthisviolet]

Sending you some of my favourite songs for the oc ask thing:

Where's My Love by SYML

To Build a Home by the Cinematic Orchestra

Day One by Twelve Titans Music

NDA by Billie Eilish

Love these choices!! And thanks for the new rec with Day One, I’m obsessed 🥰

(and I highly recommend Mars by Nick Ingman and Terry Devine-King to anyone who loves Day One 👀)

Where's My Love by SYML

Did she run away? Did she run away? I don't know

If she ran away, if she ran away, come back home

Just come home

This is so Lucy 😭 mostly everyone @ her when she's wandering the galaxy post-ROTJ! Plans on that are still a bit fuzzy, but Lucy has a wanderer's heart. Much in contrast to Leia's...and even to Luke's sometimes (he has a wanderer's heart too, but he's dedicated to rebuilding the Jedi). And her family misses her so much ���

This is also so Barry @ Morgan, he worries about her so much when she's not there with him 🥺 especially after all she goes through in s1 and s2 alone

To Build a Home by the Cinematic Orchestra

This is a place where I don't feel alone

This is a place where I feel at home

Majorly Original Quartet (Lucy, Leia, Luke, Han) coded!! But Skywalker family coded too (even extending as far as Rey), with:

Out in the garden where we planted the seeds

There is a tree as old as me

Branches were sewn by the color of green

Ground had arose and passed its knees

This song is also majorly Team Flash coded (especially everyone @ Barry because of Crisis and all). And Westallen family coded, but we knew that already 😂

Day One by Twelve Titans Music

I could see this playing in one of two scenes for Morgan: when she finally figures out how to catch herself in a forcefield, or when she escapes from a cell by blowing it up with one of her forcefields

NDA by Billie Eilish

Hmm this gives me Morgan vibes. I can't even explain why, it just does 😅 though "did I take it too far? Now I know what you are!" is Morgan @ Thawne in particular

Maybe a little Amelia @ Peter with "you couldn't save me, but you can't let me go...did I take it too far? Now I know what you are!"

send me a song, and I’ll say which OC it makes me think of!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed!):

@ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @vexic929 @raith-way @thechaoticfanartist @ironverseocs

[hungrydolphin91]

[Insert some kind of Xillia 2 catchy tagline here about how my sister and I are playing this game]. I don't even remember what chapter we're on at this point, but we did all the fun Victor stuff

Victor only took as three tries: we got very close the first time, the second one doesn't count because he confused the whole party and we all murdered each other, but by the third we had grinded a little and bought some better weapons and armor

Since we had to rewatch the cutscenes she picked different dialogue choices just to see what changed, except for the one about Ludger's cooking vs. Victor's. Sis: "I won't concede, mine's still better."

Sorry I don't have much to report about the reactions, since my sister pretty much already knew what was about to happen. She wasn't thrilled about being Elle's father, but she did feel bad for Elle finding out her father was using her, and watching him get killed, too. It's a lot for a kid to go through 😭

There's a bonus scene with Jude helping Ludger make a new pot of soup after Elle spills the first, but he mostly just stands there. Me: "YOU SHOULD BE HELPING, NOT HURTING."

My sister slapped a pair of goofy glasses on Alvin right before his character chapter so we got to enjoy all the emotional close ups with his 😏 expression. I'm surprised Presa didn't return the ring just from that 😂

Leia: "Agria, watch over me." Me: "Agria is probably flipping you off from Hell."

Why is it that Alvin's chapters are much more interesting to me than the others. I mean I'm probably super biased cause I like him but still I like how they explore more of his struggles at improving himself and what could have been based on his past, compared to, I don't know, buying a bunny doll or reading Muzet's thoughts. Maybe I'm just an angst fan.

We started prime Milla's chapter in a new session, and the second the cutscene started my sister left to go get snacks. We have a fundamentally different way of playing these games 😅

Hilariously, the cutscene was halted so Ludger can make a dialogue choice, one of them being "Sounds like I missed something." 😂

I forgot this was a Milla chapter and not a Jude one, with the iconic gay bird spirit that's acting like a clingy ex 😂

While hunting elite monsters, Milla died right at the end of a battle and didn't get the exp, but characters who weren't in the party still did. Sis: "Alvin's probably waking up from a nap like 'Guess who just got stronger?'"

We made paid the bank 150,000 with Ludger's reward money, and all we got was kitty krisps and a skill for Alvin, who again, wasn't there. Cue both of us saying "Guess who just got stronger?" and laughing.

I forgot proceeding with the plot in Marksburg triggers a boss battle with Chronos. Oops, we weren't fully healed.

Julius shows up and defends Ludger, aww. Sis: "When do we tell him he's technically an uncle now?"

I couldn't remember how many times the Chronos fight looped but it wasn't too bad really, the game's going easy on you at this point since it's scripted.

Bisley shows up to interrupt the fight. Sis: "Who are you?" Me, with utter exasperation: "...Do you seriously not know who he is?" 😩 (She did, she just didn't know why he was helping)

My sister was a lot more worried about Julius taking Ludger's place to fight Chronos one on one over the appearance of Bisley or the disappearance of Elle. I can't blame her, Julius's love for his brother is so sweet and he's frankly more compelling than most of the other original characters

Elle runs away because she suddenly doesn't want to go to Canaan anymore (it IS pretty creepy I'll give her that), and the rest of the party is somehow fine with letting this child run around unsupervised except by Spirius agents?? Even my sister who hates Elle pointed out that Ludger is kinda her closest living relative in this dimension so he should probably not let her wander off??

The SECOND that cutscene ended, Nova called. "Ludger, I know you just fought the god of time, but he gave you money, didn't he? You can't pull a fast one over the bank!"

Next time is... whatever happens next. My memories are a little fuzzy but I think we're gonna do that stuff in Spirius's basement soon, and then... oof. Hoping for a bad end, ngl 😅

[Masterpost link here, eventually.]

[synamartia]

First day of a stay-cation and I am in a GOOD FUCKING MOOD. NOTHING CAN STOP ME HAHAHA god i gotta chill tf out

Part 2, here we go~! ❤

♡ For all his efforts, he hadn't actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.

Baby's gettin' better at tailinggg~ 🎵

♡ Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His "Shhh." You couldn't replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.

GIRL SAME.

♡ Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, "Touch me again without my permission," you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, "And the next time you see this tacky tie, you'll be shitting it out." You patted his chest. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

♡ "Hands off, move along." The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. "Miss you need to be careful out here. There's been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home."

Okay FIRST OFF-- *points up* We can look after ourselves. Second-- the FOREBODING FEELING I WAS JUST HIT WITH-- oooofffff 😭 Should I be scared? Worried?? aroused???

♡ I don't want this.

The fucking snort I let out at this line 😂

♡ "I don't care for liars." Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.

okay look, the fight part of my fight or flight instincts would've kicked in so hard right here like i would have decked him the second "I" left his mouth

♡ A waxed canvas was lining the inside, "Clever." You hadn't meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open.

You know what, I've always preferred the receiving end of the praise kink, but this line here got me wondering what the give feels like. 🤔 I'mma save this for when I get back to writing, try to explore it a bit~

♡ "Perhaps I should eat you?" He leaned close.

♡ His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man's blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you'd call them.

yeeeEEAAAHHH BUDDY let's go! I. Am. Ready.

♡ "That's why I like you," a wink. "Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow." He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.

EUGH. WHY. *collapses in defeat* I have such a love-hate relationship with the slow burn. 😭

♡ He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn't afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you'd not be disappointed in him now.

CALLED IT not really

♡ Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.

I keep forgetting this is taking place around the time of the Great Depression and women wearing pants was considered SCANDELOUS back then. Love that you peppered small bits like this in there to remind readers of the timeline~ 👌❤

♡ "You," he leaned against the bar, "owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance."

Oh, we owe you more than just a drink, dear.

♡ "Then talk to me like a man." Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor's eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.

Do. It. do it do it do it--

♡ Alastor smirked, "Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name."

Wait did I miss something? I'm stupid, what's the pun here--

♡ Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, "It's a good one though, you have to admit." His brow cocked, not understanding. "Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?" Your own brows rose suggestively.

Oh. OH-- okay okay i get it now 🙃

♡ He looked down now, eyes meeting yours gain, "That was before I knew how entertaining you could be."

Give us the chance and we'll show you just how entertaining we can be *eyebrow wiggle*

♡ His grin widened. "And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable." The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, "I can appreciate the way you carry yourself." Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, "I wish I could see more."

Oh. Oh no. Hazel, what have you done. You've awakened something DASTARDLY in me. HAZEL WHAT DID YOU DO--

♡ Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor's eyes meeting yours in the mirror, "I'm happy to do many things for you... just not exactly what you're asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom."

asdfkjwlkjwf-- I'm banging my head against the wall rn but I love the slow burn, the chase so much AHHHHHH--

♡ "Okay, okay, affection received." You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. "Don't need to end the night in a paddy wagon."

oh Hazel you TEASE!! D':

♡ You turned around, partly acting like you didn't know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn't want to create hassle for either of you. Alastor laughed, "The very same! Alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you." With your back turned you couldn't see the woman's face, but she made a barely audible squeak.

I've never been the jealous type, especially when it comes to fictional characters. But the combination of your little tease just now, the caffeine from 4 monsters, and the heavy metal I got going on in the background right now has me ready to throw hands at words. WORDS, HAZEL. i love it give me more

*sprints to part 3* I SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS AGES AGO.

A Doe in Fall (part 2)

I have a terrible case of the big bad sads so enjoy part 2 earlier than I planned

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 2 Liar

You not-stalk Alastor for weeks but don’t find anything blackmail worthy to grab ahold of. But luckily (?) for you, a chance encounter pulls you deeper into his hobbies and therefore his scope of fascination. Most importantly, do murderers go on dates?

「Warnings/Promises: Smut, HumanAlastor x FemBurlesquerReader, Alastor eats pussy like beignets (MESSY), dancing, shoe stress, murder, dead body, food metaphors, stalking, masturbation, Tommy is a bad dude, allusion to coerced prostitution, praise kink?, public sex acts, stage name is a fucking pun GOTCHU BITCHES, Gluttony」

minors dni please

The nights you didn’t work were spent casually looking for Alastor. Not stalking, just …. pursuing. 

You found over the course of several weeks what places he never attended, and a few that he did like clockwork. As much as you wanted to approach him, you knew you’d end up checkmated again. You just wanted to observe the man, surely you’d see something you could use against him, something tangible.

What was he doing? Knife carrying smooth talker who fingers ladies in the park? There was more to him than you anticipated. That addictive adrenaline rush was calling you to chase him. You’d catch him in the act of whatever men like him did, and—- well, you’d figure it out then. Was he a mugger, maybe? The knife would make sense. But he disposed of bodies so well, a month and no mention of a corpse anywhere. You didn’t want to even touch the thought bubbling up in the back of your skull. It was getting louder and louder, heavier than the other thoughts.

A repeat killer.

You decided, somewhat foolishly, if he was a killer it would be best to know that information. So you needed to continue even if the cards all read death. Right? 

Right.

For all his efforts, he hadn’t actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.

Many nights you found yourself alone in wooded areas. Well, “alone”. 

During your casual stalking you found him to be quite pretty, in a sense. He walked smoothly, always had pressed and tailored suits. Slender fingers, wide shoulders, small waist. Fingers.

Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His “Shhh.” You couldn’t replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.

If all else failed, no juicy blackmail available, maybe just endear yourself to him. Bed him. Get the conquest done and let him go on with his little crime spree or whatever it was he was doing when you weren’t watching. Because so far all you’ve seen is a man who loves to dance and enjoys whiskey. 

After another show done, body sore, you did your tour of the theatre. Tommy was snapping his fingers at you from the bar, his attempt to tell you to come over. Every day he seemed to become more and more brutish.

“What can I do for ya?” You tried to keep a bounce in your step, arches aching. 

“I want you to meet someone.” Tommy turned to a small man at the bar, hair thinning and combed forward. You guessed in his sixties. “Give Mr. Wilson a warm welcome. He’s one of your most generous benefactors.”

You nodded, smile slipping as you mind started to consider what was happening. You had heard some girls were taking dates, offering private shows, but you had been under the impression that was entirely of their own free will and desire. Had Tommy turned pimp? Your gaze flashed to Tommy, his stare cold, and then back to the man. “Well, thank you very much doll! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wilson.” Tommy saw someone walk by and followed, leaving you with the older man. 

“Your dance was something else, sweetheart.” You nodded, his hand coming to rest on your hip. “I bet those hips do more than dancing.”

Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, “Touch me again without my permission,” you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, “And the next time you see this tacky tie, you’ll be shitting it out.” You patted his chest. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

You pushed through the crowd and out of the front doors of the theatre. The air chillier tonight than past weeks. Looking around, you balled your fists. You wanted to hit something, break something.

Without any destination you tore off down the street, angrily huffing to yourself. You looked both ways to cross the intersection when you saw a familiar silhouette. A car honked, your hands coming up in apology as you finished crossing the street to follow Alastor.

Was your luck miraculous? Or malignant? You made it several blocks before a man stepped in front of you. You weren’t listening, trying to look past him to see where Smiles was headed.

“Will you fuck off?!” You pushed him out the way only to have him pull you back by the arm. Before you could let out your frustration, a stranger walked up to you both. 

“Hands off, move along.” The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. “Miss you need to be careful out here. There’s been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home.” 

Your mouth formed various shapes, no words fitting.

“Detective Brady.” He handed you a card.

I don’t want this.

“Sure, thanks.” You snatched it with two fingers and practically jogged away. No sign of him, no indication where Alastor went. Were there any forested areas? He often took strolls in shady parks but you couldn’t remember any nearby. Turning around you realized how far you’d wandered from the fanfare and lights. The area was dark and deserted, not just Alastor but no one was around anymore. You stashed the card in your bra and rushed past an alley, giving up and deciding to just go home, when your ears caught the sound of dragging fabric on pavement.

Ice. Your blood chilled. Taking a few steps backwards, you turned to look into the darkened side street. You saw nothing, but heard a familiar wet sound.

Would it matter? Death?

You lifted your heels, walking on the balls of your feet to not make any sound as you approached the black shadow blanketing the majority of the side street.

A glimpse of brown leather shoes peeked into the light, soon your eyes adjusted as you too entered the inky darkness.

“I don’t care for liars.” Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.

“Is there a problem?” His eyes scanned your face, his usual smile no longer so inviting but instead manic and wide. You don’t know what possessed you, the adrenaline was flowing again and drowning out your more sensible thoughts. 

Your eyes were locked on his golden brown stare, “Only… if you’re quite attached to his wallet.”

He burst into laughter, wiping tears with the back of his bloodied glove. A small smear of blood was left behind on his cheek.

“I have no need for it.” He reached down and fished it out of the man’s pocket, “And neither does he!”

You caught it with both hands, “Well doesn’t that make me the lucky lady of the evening.”

“Don’t speak too soon. I’m quite cross with you.” He gestured at you with the knife, “We had a deal.”

In what could best be described as an out of body experience you watched yourself rush to his side and lift the man’s legs, “In the trunk?”

Alastor stared at you, teeth showing as his smile grew, “I’ve seen films less entertaining than you.” A stifled laugh as he lifted the man from under his arms and you both carried him to the car. You dropped the legs with a loud thud, Alastor gently setting the man down and opening the trunk.

A waxed canvas was lining the inside, “Clever.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open. 

After he tossed the man, the knife, and the gloves into the back, you reached for his hand. “Your wife is going to be miffed. Blood is so difficult to get out of cotton.” You scratched at the bit of blood that had stained his cuff. “Spit works really well. But lemon juice and baking soda before any store bought cleaners will help.”

Alastor took his hand back, adjusting his sleeve to hide the red spot, “Oh she has much bigger issues to deal with.”

Your mind raced. A chauvinist? Abuser? A weight settled into your stomach; disappointment. “Is that so?”

Giggling, he leaned against the bumper, one leg crossing in front of the other, “Considering she doesn’t exist, she’s quite terrible at laundry. And I haven’t eaten a meal in years.” A giggle devolving into a full chest laugh. 

A terrible joke, you smacked his chest, “Cruel! Unfunny!” 

“Perhaps I should eat you?” He leaned close. 

“I hear I’m quite sweet.” You smirked, heart pounding in your chest with such force you were rocking slightly with each pulse.

Alastor felt his blood pressure rising. He should kill you. Just to be safe. But—- oh, this was so fun. You hid any fear you were feeling perfectly. He could be forgiven to think he was staring into a mirror. If he met himself in an alley, well, he would feel quite safe. Perhaps you we’re of a similar inclination?

He watched your throat as you gulped. You licked your thumb and wiped at his cheek, “You always make a mess, hun.”

Alastor felt the world spin as you then dragged your blood stained thumb over your lips, red lipstick smearing with it. “Sweet eno-,” he swallowed your words, hand coming to your neck and pulling you into the kiss. No patience, his tongue swiped over your mouth and plunged in at the smallest parting. 

Your mind was screaming, finally, yes. 

His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man’s blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you’d call them.

No time. He pulled away, “Against the wall.”

You practically threw yourself into the bricks. Alastor pulled a gas tin from the trunk and began dousing the street. You frowned, body relaxing.

“You’re taking the food metaphor too far. Fire? Really?” You took a second to realize there was no odor.

A laugh in threes, “Water, dear.” You watched the blood thin and begin snaking down to the gutter. He set the can in the trunk and closed the hatch. After opening the drivers door he turned to you, “Do you trust me to drive you home?”

“Honestly, no.”

“That’s why I like you,” a wink. “Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow.” He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he  hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.

Alastor found himself singing a little louder as he drove home. A thrilling evening becoming somehow more exciting. He realized that always seemed to happen when you stumbled into his plans. Still annoyed you had followed him, his thoughts shifted to possibilities. A kindred spirit could make things easier. More fun. Safer. But who were you? Much like himself you wore a mask. He could see it clearly as it always began to slip in his presence. 

He pulled his car behind his home, backed up against a large greenhouse. Still in the idling vehicle, his fingers came to his lips. What a peculiar creature you were. Killing the lights and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he considered what to do. The possibilities kept coming in waves. But he stopped himself, never one to live in fantasy. Helping toss a dead man into a car wasn’t the same as killing. Yes, you showed no outward concerns, but he couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn tail the second things got more intense. 

He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn’t afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you’d not be disappointed in him now. 

A deeper sigh. But you didn’t. Which was wise. He thought better of you for it. Opening his eyes and leaving the car, he went to the trunk to begin his work.

You couldn’t sleep. Not because of the dead man, you were getting used to that. It was the lack of information. Comfortable shoes? For what? He didn’t give you a time or place to meet.

Tomorrow was Sunday, you realized. Ah, the bar. That was the only place that would make sense. 

Sundays were big nights for your theatre, but you weren’t needed unless a girl was sick. You simply weren’t at that level of fame for your little company and this was fine for you suddenly. You spent your Sunday pacing your small one room apartment and changing shoes.

What did Alastor have planned? With the little you knew about him it a could be a capital crime or a walk in the park. You genuinely couldn’t imagine and it was exciting. A normal man asking you—- was this a date? Was it presumptive to call it a date? You couldn’t quite see Alastor dating. You let the question go. Most men would take you for a movie and perhaps a chaste kiss at the door of a cab. With Alastor it could be literally anything. How do you dress for anything? 

Your friend teased you, arriving early to her bar and chewing on your lip. 

“So, either you suddenly wanna look nice for my dive, or you’re expecting someone.” She was wiping down the counter.

“I adore your customers, Betty.” You hopped from the seat, needing to reapply your lipstick.

Your singing voice was strained, nerves keeping you tense. Looking into the modest crowd you couldn’t find him. A cornflower yellow dress, a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t let that stop you. The collar a loose and folding slit from shoulder to shoulder, you were positively cute, he decided. Leaning at the bar he couldn’t see your face, but under the small lights you were glowing nonetheless. A little ball of pride rose in his gut, noticing you clearly had put more care into your appearance tonight than most Sundays. 

Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.

When your set was done, you tried to be gracious as you left the piano’s side. Alastor watched you from his seat, letting your face light up once again when you recognized him. He gave a noticeable look to your shoes. 

“Those will do.” 

“Do what?” 

“You,” he leaned against the bar, “owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance.”

Maybe a date, you thought. You offered him your arm, “Lead the way.”

As you walked, arm in arm, you found yourself not needing to speak much. His arm was so solid in yours. You felt like everyone was looking, the handsome man and the pretty young thing. Did you two look sweet? Like the cleanest cut kids in the neighborhood? Did you look like the kind of people who sat in pews once a week and clasped hands over dinner?

Did you look like the sort to toss bodies in cars? No, decidedly not. And it made you feel powerful. What a perfect act. The feeling of looking nothing like what you were was akin to the addicting rush of your cat and mouse game with most men. 

“Do you like those group dances? Like the Big Apple?” Alastor asked as he opened the doors for you. 

“Not particularly…”

“Perfect, neither do I.” He laughed. 

A small table in a small nook of a booth lining the small dance floor. You clinked your glasses together, no toast necessary, and watched the couples swing around the room. As the 20’s were fading from the rear view, you all hoped dance would be less stigmatized. But part of the fun was how scandalous it was. 

“How was your day? Made it home safe and sound?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned into the plush booth seat. 

Oh, this was going to be… normal? You choked a little on your drink, surprised. “Honestly?”

“Always.”

“I sat in my apartment changing my shoes repeatedly.”

Alastor’s laugh was loud and sharp, but you didn’t find it obnoxious. You liked it.

“That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to risk you being unable to dance.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a slow sip with your gaze on the dancers, “Ya know how to avoid that? Tell me to wear shoes for dancing.”

A snicker, “Perhaps I’m not quite as skilled with talking to women as I like to think.”

“Then talk to me like a man.” Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor’s eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.

“Hmm, I don’t talk much to men.” He thought, “Not for long conversations, that is.” Your mind conjured up the two dead men. “I never asked your name. Is it too late now?”

“You saw it on the posters. Autumn.”

Alastor smirked, “Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name.”

Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, “It’s a good one though, you have to admit.” His brow cocked, not understanding. “Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?” Your own brows rose suggestively. 

Alastor hit the table, “A deer pun?! Oh darling, we’re going to be fast friends.” He offered you his glass for another wordless toast.

“I thought it was pretty funny, for a burlesque dancer no less. A horny little deer prancing on stage. Better than Allie Way and Frosti Winters.” You grinned into the glass, proud of yourself.

You could see Alastor physically relax beside you, dancers moving about in front of you both. 

“And yours? Your day, that is.”

He hummed, “I slept late, stayed up late. Took care of our newly penniless friend.” 

You wanted to ask more, what did you do with him? Can I come next time? Is there a pool of gators somewhere eating well today?

He leaned in to you, “May I have this dance?”

Your smile was uncontained, all desire to control your outward appearance was lost in the fun of dancing with your newest partner. Was there anyone else in the room with you anymore? Who knows. The music kept playing and that was all you needed. 

Alastor was a marvelous dancer,  you noticed other women glancing his way, eye lashes fluttering but ignored as he focused on the movements. This was how you managed to not-stalk him so well, he was completely unaware of the interested gazes of those around him.

While he didn’t notice the individual stares, Alastor could feel the attention on him and it made his chest puff. He loved it, how he could feed an image to the masses and be seen as he saw fit. It was something you both had in common, even if neither of you had strong enough egos to vocalize it yet.

When the music wound down, a slow number for the lovers, you hadn’t expected Alastor to stay on the dance floor. A slow dance, one arm on your hip, hand in hand. 

Now close, you felt you could speak without risk of others eavesdropping. 

“Why did you invite me out? I have a distinct memory of you saying you had very little affection or time.” You were shorter than him, your shoes not very tall, so you had to speak up and at his neck.

“A man who says he has no time is a man unwilling to make any.” Alastor led you in a small sway along the floor.

“Oh so you just didn’t see me worth the effort before.” You said it half teasingly, half seriously.

He looked down now, eyes meeting yours again, “That was before I knew how entertaining you could be.”

You pouted, entertaining was not the word you wanted to hear. Enthralling, Enchanting, Endearing. 

“There’s that face again. What ever could it mean.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side.

“I’m entertaining at work. You don’t need to take me out to enjoy my entertainment value.” 

He laughed again, making you glare, “Darling, being entertaining is high praise. And you’re not entertaining at work. You’re bewitching.” He pulled you a little closer, “The way you make those men act a fool. Truly a sight. You wield a power many women just dabble in.”

You shimmied a little against his chest, “Well if we’re giving out compliments…” you remembered the satisfying hum from last night, “The canvas was clever, but the water in the cans was brilliant. Nothing suspicious about a little petrol in the trunk.”

His grin widened. “And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable.” The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, “I can appreciate the way you carry yourself.” Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, “I wish I could see more.”

Your chest pressed against his, trapping your hand. “Ooh, you are observant, little one. Why did you agree to come out? Still chasing my,” his hips pressed against yours, hand sliding down slightly to hold you close, “affection?”

Fingers playing with his buttons, “Hmm, debilitating fascination and your affection. Do you have any to spare?” You smiled sweetly up at him.

Your mouths were on each other before the bathroom door closed behind you. Alastor locking it without looking, one hand staying on your neck. The small room was just a single toilet and a bathroom cabinet with a built in sink. Little tulip shaped light sconces above the mirror made the room brighter than the dance hall. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, him humming in return. His body was pressing yours against the wall, despite his thin frame he had a power to him. Hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place. Your hips tried to roll against his anyway.

“Is it praise? I’ll sing your song until I’m blue in the face, until my lungs give out just tell me what you need.” You whined. 

His head shook softly, thumb pulling down on your chin to open your mouth. “It isn’t that simple. It’s not something you can say.” 

His tongue swiped over your own, neither in your mouths. He tasted like whiskey, bitter and fragrant. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his body against yours. You were vibrating; the way you always did when he was near you.

Kissing, tongues, body presses.  You were tangled together.

“This isn't… doing anything?” You asked, his lips coming to your neck. Sighing, your hand gripped his hair weakly. “That feels good.”

He shook his head into your skin, “I don’t see any desire to carry it further. But I enjoy it for what it is. And you seem to enjoy it. Is that enough for you?”

You wanted to scream, to argue, but as he pulled away and you stared up into his sharp honey brown eyes, you felt helpless to deny him anything. Did you need sex? Really? It’d been three months now without it and you were only recently clawing at the sheets with thoughts of Alastor. Being in his mouth was better than being strangers. Sliding fingers back into his hair and drawing him closer, your leg came up and hooked on his hip.

Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I’m happy to do many things for you… just not exactly what you’re asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom.” 

His hand snaked up your chest and lightly held your neck, you fought back a moan.

“Well, if it’s good enough for your wife….” 

He laughed into your skin, other hand slipping down the front of your dress and cupping your crotch. “I’ve heard no complaints.” The way he anchored you, arms twisted and firm around such vital parts of you, made your whole body relax into his arms. A parachute safely secured around you as you fell. Mouth to your ear, hot and warm breath, “Turn around.”

Head spinning, you turned in his arms. Alastor lifted you up and onto the countertop of the sink, lips crashing back into yours.

The sound of music shook the thin walls of the room, heart erratic in your chest. His fingers slid up both thighs slowly, a familiar feeling for you now. His hands your favorite dance partner. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he dropped to his knees, your legs closing in embarrassment before he slid his hands between them. 

“Did you ask for more affection, dear?” He pushed your dress up around your waist, two fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side. You wanted to rip them off, damning your garters. You felt feverish as you watched him bury his face into your pussy. Your wetness was evident by how easily he glided through your folds. One hand gripped the counter, the other combing through his chestnut hair. Alastor kept his eyes on you, reading your face as he moved his tongue over your heat.

Mind racing for something clever to say, you opened your mouth but just gasped out his name as he sucked gently at your clit. One of your short heeled shoes you stressed over fell off as your knees came up around his head.

You were confident you made the right answer. With the music thumping along you didn’t feel any need to keep yourself quiet.

Your breathy moans and little hip rolls into his mouth made Alastor smile against your skin. He had learned many ways to keep people satiated. 

With a struggle, you opened your legs again allowing his tongue to drop down and into you. Nose rutting against your sensitive clit with every movement of his tongue in and out. 

A pounding on the door made you jump. 

“People are waiting!” Someone yelled.

Alastor pushed his tongue deeper, wriggling up and down against your twitching walls. Your head fell forward, “Alastor-,” you choked.

He buried his nose into your muff, eyes closing.

The door knob rattled, “Hello!”

“Alastor.”

So warm. Your body was so warm on his face. Your smell was making him feel feral. Gluttony. The way you were twitching and heaving under his tongue, groaning his name. Had he ever felt so powerful while on his knees? Had he ever enjoyed someone else’s body in such a bloodless way? No. Decidedly not.

“We’re gonna get the key!” The man at the door said.

“Okay, okay, affection received.” You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. “Don’t need to end the night in a paddy wagon.”

Alastor’s tongue was still out, eyes glossy as he looked up at you.

For the briefest second you considered wrapping your thighs back around his head and waiting for the key.

You hopped off, grabbing your shoe and leaning to get it back on. Crouching down you kissed Alastor’s nose and wiped his chin clean with your handkerchief before pushing it into his shirt pocket. “Up, up!” Hand in hand you barreled out of the door before the staff could see you and rushed to the furthest corner of the hall.

When you stopped and looked back you saw a staff member looking around annoyed, a man putting his hands up and entering the bathroom with a huff.

Before you could say anything, compliment or scolding, a woman was in front of Alastor. Your hand slid from his naturally. 

“I am so sorry. Are you the host of that jazz show?” The woman had her hands in front of her, nervously twisting the handle of her purse, “Sorry if you’re not! You just look like the description, tall… handsome… cute glasses.”

You turned around, partly acting like you didn’t know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn’t want to create hassle for either of you.  Alastor laughed, “The very same! Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your back turned you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she made a barely audible squeak. 

While you were eavesdropping, a man offered you his arm. Your hand slipped to Alastor’s back, giving him a touch as you slid into the strangers arms for a dance.

He turned around to see you hit the floor and smiled, returning to the fan before him. After a few more compliments about his voice and his appearance, the woman shrunk a little, “Are you free tonight? I don’t have an escort home…”

A hum, soft smile, “Ah, I would love to see a fan safely home. But, alas, I am here with someone.”

What an easy excuse. It was nice to not need to lie.

“I see…. Oh, uh, your glasses… here, they’re a little smudged,” she offered him her handkerchief but he declined, pulling yours from his pocket.

“Danced too hard?” She chuckled, trying to elongate the conversation.

Alastor hummed, fogging the glasses before wiping them clear. “Eating, actually.”

“Oh you’re a messy eater, huh?”

“So I’ve been told.” He folded the square into a triangle and returned it to his pocket.

“What a… delicate handkerchief.” She looked at the soft yellow fabric and saw your yellow dress twirling behind him. “Ah. Well….It was a pleasure to meet you.” The woman sheepishly excused herself, letting him watch you dance around the floor with the stranger.

He’d never so explicitly told anyone his proclivities as he had done with you. Growing up he learned quickly his interests misaligned with other young men, but he didn’t really understand it well enough until he entered his early 20s and had to learn skills his peers didn’t. A man can only turn down so many offers for sex before people begin to question him. Certain rumors could be downright dangerous. 

Your eyes kept returning to him, your smile meeting you eyes as you twirled. 

While he had bed a number of partners, it was more often than not the result of physical reactions and what felt like necessity. The few times he genuinely felt he could enjoy in indulging in carnal pleasures he found himself utterly alone. He enjoyed dating, necking, kissing, but he could only keep some people so happy for so long. Quite a few women assumed marriage would solve the issue, and pushed him. Which made the inevitable break up easier. 

His reputation was that of a rake now. The popular host who rarely dates but often canoodles.

He laughed to himself, if rumors spread of his recent antics with you he’d be practically blacklisted from certain clubs. Alastor watched you graciously leave your dance partner and hop up to him. If he were any other man, you’d throw your arms around him and make him swoon for you. But he was Alastor. Your confusingly respectful killer. So you stopped yourself, instead offering him a smile.

“I wasn’t aware you were a radio host.”

“You never did ask my job.” You both walked back to the table where his jacket was lying in the booth seat.

“Honestly did not care. Which is unusual for me. Normally my first question to men is what they do for work.” You tried to avoid looking at the bathroom before settling back into your seat beside him.

He lifted his hand and gestured for another round, “Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“Oh definitely flattered. There were much more interesting aspects to you.” There was a little space between you, a foot or so of emptiness. 

You scooted closer, Alastor glancing to you before shifting his legs and closing the last few inches of distance. Thigh touching thigh, you sat silently while your drinks were poured and brought to your table. 

“To sinning,” you offered a real toast, Alastor laughing his signature laugh and raising his glass.

“To sinning!”

His hand came to rest on yours, both settled on your lap under the table. Your cheeks were hurting, desperately trying to keep your smile looking demure and not stupid-school-girl-in-love. His fingers folded into yours, and you entirely lost the plot, face melting into a lovesick grin.

Alastor leaned into you, “Are you alright? Liquor already gone to your head?”

You squeezed his hand, “Different kind of intoxication, doll.”

The evening was, in a word, divine. You danced with reckless abandon and enjoyed various degrees of affection. You were surprised to see Alastor so open, you had pegged him as less wanting to draw attention to himself. But no, he clearly relished in making heads turn.

He offered you a ride, and this time you took it. You didn’t live far, you just wanted a little more time. When he stopped the car, you jokingly turned around and looked into the trunk. 

“We’re very alone.” You mused. He hummed an agreement, getting out of the car and opening your door.  “Wow and a gentleman.”

“A testament to my mother. If you’re comfortable, give me a wave from the window when you get in.” He closed your door behind you. 

“I don’t mind if you know where I live, you’ll have easier opportunities to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Placing two hands on his chest, you leaned up, “Is a good night kiss too forward?”

Alastor stifled a laugh, “Quite! My image of you is shattered.” before leaning down to meet your lips.

When in the apartment you turned on a light and went straight to the window. Leaning against his car with both hands in his pockets, Alastor was smiling up at you. With a wave from you, he got back into his car and left.

To say you were on cloud nine would be an understatement. Clouds couldn’t carry the weight of your joy. You’d fall to the ground like lead, regardless of the cloud classification. And with that feeling you went to bed smiling, unaware of the dark catalyst barreling towards you.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

ADIF @multifandomfanatic02 ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[j0kers-light]

How do you think Joker would deal with menstruation? Or if reader had a long delay and they both thought she was pregnant 😂 (but then it turned out to be a false alarm)

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

I couldn't help myself and jumped out of line of ask requests! I woke up from a nap with the perfect idea for this so here we go! I hope you enjoy anon!

It is common knowledge that Joker does not use condoms. The tried and true saying, 'wrap it before you tap is' does not apply to him, mkay?

This man does not care. Its risky, its dangerous, and its incredibly hot to slide into you with nothing in the way.

That friction of skin between skin just scratches an itch of intimacy that Joker never knew he needed. Now he knows why condoms are so expensive. Its a clear indicator not to use them!

Joker knows you secretly enjoy it too or you would have put an end to raw sex from the beginning.

Joker does not take into consideration if you're taking any birth contraceptive measures [thats your choice as the reader] he's got bigger things to worry about, but there was always a twinge of hesitation in his mind.

What if you get pregnant?

Joker is NOT father material despite the countless nannies and other random people from your apartment building that compliment his DILF status and skills every time you babysit your neighbor's kid.

Joker is not one for children, but he sorta kinda likes Gio. The little tyke's got spunk and he's so well mannered and you look ethereal whenever you hold Gio and the sunlight hits you a certain—

Okay. Fine! So Joker has toyed with the idea!

He let his mind wander once or twice but it doesn't mean he's actively tryna knock you up! He is not about that life. Gotham City has to burn first and there's too much fun to cause to be weighted down with a child.

Nothing is for certain but Joker knows. He knows you can and will be a great mother just... not with his kid.

Joker is fully aware of your 'time of the month.' You're more moodier than usual and you always desert him in the guest bedroom for the comfort of your private room.

You don't come out except to eat and you take said meals in your sanctuary. He hates the one week of the month where his Light is not around.

He does not like when you shut him out and hide in your shell but you grumble 'hormones' or 'leave me lone, J' and waddle back to safety.

Joker wants nothing more to cuddle up with you and rub your cramps away or hand feed you all the weird snacks you crave while your buried under the blankets, but you won't let him near you!

Why won't you let him spoil you?

Contrary to popular belief, Joker is smart and very detail driven. He keeps up with your mensural cycle because he needs to know when his Light will be out of commission.

He needs to know when to stay out of your way and when to keep your favorite snacks stocked in the penthouse. Since you won't let him near you, he'll keep you satisfied with acts of service.

A happy Bunny, is a happy Joker.

So..... he's a lit-tle confused when your expected start date rolls around and you're still well, normal.

You haven't snapped at him once or asked for some ridiculous food pairing that should not go together.

You're still the bunny that he fell ten times over for. And when nothing happens for three days in a row.. Joker silently panics.

Its day five without any bleeding and Joker is a nervous wreck. You noticed a slight change in his behavior recently but with your upset stomach, you haven't given him any more attention.

You've been nauseous since the beginning of the week and no ginger ale, saltine crackers, or other home remedies that Sarai texted you to try have worked. If you don't feel any better in the morning, you're going to the ER and she better be on-call.

You were at your wits end trying to treat this weird stomach bug when she sends another message that makes your heart drop to the floor.

When's ur last period ever think bout that?

You drop your phone and spiral down a rabbit hole. When was your last period? Shouldn’t you be due for one soon? You snap out of your thoughts and open your period tracker and groan aloud when you notice you're five days late.

"Oh no. Oh nope nope nopeity nope." You look around the room like it miraculously held the answers to your dilemna. You've never been late a day in your life and right on time, your imaginary angel appeared on your shoulder.

"You and J do go at like rabbits..." She grimaced.

On your other shoulder your brash devil appeared. She was in rare form with a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear.

"And we be taking them loads straight to the womb! I bet you’re regretting not wrapping that sausage every time huh you cum whore? Haha! Pregnant with a psychopath's baby! That's wild! Couldn’t be me tho!”

She doubled over laughing and your angel shot her a glare. "It isn’t funny. This affects you too! Y/n, ignore her. CVS is on the corner babe. Aisle nine, lets go."

You nodded to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys, headed to the door but Joker came out of nowhere and blocked your way.

He took in your frazzled appearance. Your hands were shaking and you failed to care that you were only wearing yoga pants and one of his hoodies.

"Where ya going, pretty girl?"

His hands touched yours and discreetly took your keys from you. And you're so out of it, you hardly noticed.

"I uh, there's um.."

"Use your words, Y/n." Joker urged you.

You breathed in and out before meeting his curious eyes.

He's ever your rock; calm and ready to tackle any situation you throw at him. Would he handle this one if you told him the truth?

This would ruin all of his plans. You were supposed to be a temporary stop in his jorney called life. You would be a liability if you came out and said, 'oh hey Joker! I'm late!'

"LaTe for what?"

You blinked rapidly. Did you say that aloud?!! Joker arched an eyebrow and waited for you to answer him. Your mouth flopped like a fish.

Thank the heavens that Joker is so patient with you. He rolled his eyes and guided you into the powder room off of the foyer.

From there, he picked you up and sat you down on the counter. He stood between your legs, gently rubbing your legs.

"Talk to me, bunny. What's stuck in that uhh.. pretty lit-tle head of yours, hmm? You can tell meeeeeee."

You burst into tears and Joker froze like a statue. Those tears of yours were his kryptonite.

"I'm late! I haven't had my period yet!"

Joker clicked his tongue and set to work wiping your tears away. He was a little rough while doing it but the motion helped calm you down. Joker was still rusty with being affectionate and you smiled at his sweet gesture.

"I know."

You glanced up at him, "Whah?"

Joker repeated himself and leaned forward on his palms near your hips. "You're uhh, five, days late, doll. I need ya to do me a favor. Can ya do that?" He waited until you stopped sniffing.

Your nod was his clue to continue.

He pushed three bottles of water next to you. You stared down at them and the ominous brown paper bag on the counter. You just now noticed it.

"I need you to drink these and then... take these."

Joker knew you would freak out when he dumped the bag over to reveal the pregnancy tests he made Mac buy this morning. Joker was tired of waiting. If this was happening, he'd be the first to know before getting Sarai involved with a final medical confirmation.

You started hyperventailing until Joker grabbed your face with his hands. "Bunny... bunny... hey. Look at me. There she is. Breathe. Drink n' we'll take them to-get-ther."

"Y-You promise?" You hiccuped.

He hated seeing the fear clouding your coloured eyes. You clung to his wrist, looking up at him as if he had all the answers.

It was obvious that your were overwhelmed and scared. Joker would have to push aside his own jitters and be the stronger person here. He exhaled with a marred smile.

"I prooomise Sweetheart. Now! Drink up for me."

Joker offered you the first water bottle and you took it with the hopes this would all be false alarm.

You were pacing in the foyer with Joker seated nearby. Even with every sharp turn you made, his eyes never strayed from you.

You were a ball of nerves and he hated that you were biting your poor nails to the quick.

He was about to tell you to stop when the timer in the bathroom went off. You stared at the doorway as if it were radioactive. One of your favorite songs continued to play as the timer yet you resumed your pacing.

Joker called out your name to no reply. You were looping back around to past by him and he grabbed your arm. "Light, its time to check."

You shook your head. "I-I-I can't... you're gonna hate me and... and leave.. I just!" You yelped when Joker jerked you into his arms. He sighed into your untamed curls and squeezed you close.

He was too calm during all of this. How was he so calm?!

It was really bothering you until your head rested on his chest and you got to feel his heart beating erratically. Joker was nervous too but he didn't show it and that made you tear up even more.

He was bottling his emotions to be a shoulder for you to lean on.

It made no sense just how caring Joker was to you. He was a changed man indeed.

Joker tipped your head up with his finger. "You want me to check for ya?" He chuckled at your furious nod. Of course you did, why did he even ask? "M'aright, lemme go, doll. Them nails are killin' me."

You mumbled out an apology and let J go. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He sighed and glanced at the four pregnancy test lined up on the counter. Leave it to his doll to be neat even while under duress.

He didn't want to do this but you didn't have the courage to. So Joker was left to face one of his worst fears all alone.

There wasn't a proper procedure to these things so he just snagged the first one he could get ahold of and eyed the screen.

A bucket of ice was dumped over his head.

Positive.

Two blue lines held so much power. His ears were ringing and he barely heard your frantic knocking on the door.

"Um Joker? Y-You're too quiet. I-I’m coming in." You opened the door and took one look at a frozen Joker holding a pregnancy test and feared the worst.

Judging by his schooled features, you already knew the results but you had to see for yourself. You picked up the other three tests on the counter but did a double take.

"What? They’re negative. Oh my God. They’re negative! J, I'm not--" You turned to show Joker but he had already shook himself out of his daze and snatched the tests from your hands.

Joker's warped mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be. Because these tests were negative. He conferred with the one in his hand but it remained that life altering, positive.

Joker was conflicted and his green eyes darted up at you. Your smile faded seeing his intense emeralds, "J, what's wrong?"

"Thisssss one is positive. I'm calling the doc." He threw them all into the wastebin and was about to leave when you stepped in his path.

"Joker, wait! Three out of four, I think its safe to agree with the majority here." You were feeling back to normal now your pregnacy scare was past you but Joker was still fighting his delusions.

"I wanna be sure, Light. I'm not trusting a uhh drugstore test with somethin' like this." He rested his forehead against yours and you could feel his hands shaking as they cupped your face.

This was really getting to him. You peered through your lashes at J. He wouldn't let this go until he knew for sure from a professional. You covered his hands with your own. It was your turn to be strong and be there for Joker.

You kissed him softy and he chased after you when you broke away. "Okay, J, you can call Sarai."

He sighed and tugged you closer for the time being. You didn't know who needed this hug the most; you or Joker.

Your eyes naturally fell to the wastebin where the tests lay, mocking you and J.

There was a palpable change in the air. This interaction changed the future for you and J. In the heat of the moment, neither of you considered protection. It was scary to think this could have ended very differently. You were sighing in relief but Joker was at odds with the outcome. Even with his fears put to rest, a small part of him wanted all four tests to be positive.

Simply because it would be a journey to experience with you.

[recklesslycaffeinated]

Okay so-! I had an idea and now I need answers! 😂 What if, somehow, the boys were released from prison at the present moment in the fiction? What is the first thing they do? How would they now pursue the MC?

Oooh interesting question... so defining our situation, let's assume that Reader has confronted all three about the riot, then maybe taken some time to herself to deal with what's just happened.

Sans is reprieved as it's discovered he was convicted on bad evidence (sorry Don). Edge manages to bribe/blackmail a judge into commuting Red's sentence. Skull... well, I can't think of any rational reason Skull would be let out, but this is our make-believe world god damn it.

Now, this is actually a really complicated question as it's going to massively depend on whether are they all released at the same time? Staggered? Or is only one being released and you want to know what that one would do? Below is my best thoughts on a couple of those scenarios.

This is a bloody long post... enjoy, I suppose!

Skull

Starting with Skull released on his own. He's frankly not delighted with being removed from the East Wing. From his cell to the corridor is fine. But the further he gets away, the angrier and more scared he becomes. After all, how will Reader find him if he's not there?

We can assume that Skull being released would be MASSIVE news. There would be protests outside of the prison and Reader would almost definitely hear about it.

So, when Skull is released, Reader is there waiting for him. Assuming he manages to leave his cell incident and gets through the press and protestors without attacking anyone, Reader would be there to keep him safe. Or let's credit Spratt with some brain cells and say that he asked Reader to be there on his release day.

Reader would immediately want to get Skull as far away from potential unhappy meals as quickly as possible. Don is frankly horrified at the situation, but knows his cousin too well to argue. He offers his beach house if Reader swears she won't ever be alone with Skull. Between himself and Angus, and maybe some professional help, the two of them always have a babysitter.

What would follow would be diabetes-inducing domestic sweetness as Reader puts all her time and attention into getting Skull well. Lots of cuddles and reading and walks. It would take a while, but the relative isolation of the beach house would be exactly what Skull needed to start feeling safe again. Maybe in time, they'd start wandering into town and back.

Skull would be pretty much the puppy dog, happy just to be around Reader. The problems would come when Reader would want to do anything alone, or Angus/Don tried to step in during one of Skull's 'moments'. This would not be the safest situation for anyone as Angus, while impressively built, isn't a match magic-wise for Skull and Don bruises like a peach.

But I think with enough time and energy, Skull and Reader would be happy with this setup. It would be a long road, but worth it.

Sans and Red

The fun situation is if Sans and Red are released at the same time. Now we've got a competition.

Both of them know where the Reader lives. Both can teleport. Red has a massive gang behind him, Sans has the brains and contacts Red couldn't hope to have. Both are on a similar footing money and resources wise, though Sans's resources lean legitimate and Red's don't.

Let's say in this scenario, the prison has kept Sans and Red's release quiet and away from the press due to the court's embarrassment.

Sans

So, straight out of the gate, I think Sans gets to Reader's apartment first. This is mostly because there's no way in hell Edge would let Red disappear off immediately, chasing after a pet when all of New Ebbott's law enforcement is watching.

Reader is pretty shocked to find Sans outside her door. First up, damage control. Sans had hoped to have more time to get back into the Reader's good graces. She's still pretty pissed with him after the riot. So he 'shyly' asks her out to Grillby's. After all, he's been in prison for a while and the idea of doing anything normal again is intimidating. Reader immediately softens and agrees.

This has two massive advantages. First, it gets her away from the apartment where Red is likely going to show up anytime now. Second, it brings her into his world. At Grillby's, she sees everyone overjoyed to see Sans out of prison. Reader sees Sans in a new light - after all, he can't be that bad if so many people are happy to see him back. Lunch and puns ensue and Sans uses every inch of his charm to keep Reader there as long as possible.

After that, I can see Sans returning to his stalker ways, watching over Reader. Sans's ability to see Souls can penetrate walls to some extent (not far, but enough to see Reader in her apartment if he's hanging about on the fire escape). The moment Red appears, there's going to be trouble.

Red

Red gets to the Reader before Sans. I think in this what-if, one of the Dreemurrs is waiting for Sans when he's released so it slows him down.

Red shakes Edge and against all good sense, teleports over to Reader's apartment. Reader cares for Red immensely but is still alarmed to find the gangster outside her door. After all, it's only been days since the riot.

Red has to work really hard to get her to relax and trust him. He's also on the clock - he knows Sans won't be dragging his heels. At first, he wants to get into her apartment but quickly realizes that's an absolute no-go. So instead, he offers to take her out. He's making things up as he goes along.

When Reader finally agrees, he teleports her to the Western Monster District. And now Red had to deal with a scared, confused, angry and also slightly nauseous Reader. A warning might have been nice?! So Reader discovers Red can teleport.

She's also introduced to his world. Again, he's surrounded by people who are delighted he's out. Amongst the Monster and Human communities of the Western District, Red is generally admired and respected. She gets to meet Edge and quickly sees the love the brothers have and that's important to her.

Afterwards - Red

From that point on it becomes a game of 'keep away' between Red and Sans. Each tries to persuade Reader that the other Skeleton is dangerous and not worthy of her. It's difficult to know who she would eventually settle on if she didn't go mad first.

Reader would gravitate toward Red because of how much he cares about his brother and his gang. Red also doesn't try to separate her from Don and Angus, knowing how, in the past, he's quickly dropped partners for trying to get between him and Edge. Red is understandable and doesn't lie as often as other people (cough Sans). He's protective, but also understands her need to have some independence and encourages it. As long as he's her only and she comes home at the end of the day, he's not overbearing.

But, he's a gleeful killer and mob boss. He doesn't hide his criminal life from her. And after someone tries to assault her in a bar, she gets a glimpse of just how deep Red's anger goes. Being with him means being involved in the criminal underworld and any hope of a normal life is out the window. Reader just isn't ready to do that. There are plenty of reasons to run from Red.

Afterwards - Sans

Reader pities Sans. She knows how empty his life is, how even his closest friends are kept at a distance. So to begin with, she's just focused on helping him reconnect with the world. Sans keeps his Judge persona away from her and doesn't talk about it unless she directly asks. Even then, he fudges the truth.

But she gets to meet Undyne, Alphys and the Dreemurrs, all of whom still love and care for Sans. And importantly, they tell her all about Papyrus. From that point, Reader starts to see Sans in a whole new light.

Sans is emotionally more mature than Red. He's funny and intelligent. He shares far more of Reader's interests than Red does. He's closer to what Reader imagined in a boyfriend than Red is (or Skull!). So she could find herself tempted towards him. On the surface, he's still the safest option.

However... Sans is far more overbearing and protective. He'd rather she stayed home and let him look after her. He has the time, the money, the resources. And the people he loves have a habit of dying the minute he lets his guard down. Reader would get stifled very quickly.

Sans would also gently, but definitely, try and separate her from Don. Reader is smart enough to know what a massive warning sign that is.

The fact is, Sans - as he is in the story right now - is a terrible choice for the Reader. Sans has a butt ton of growing to do before he can really be a suitable contender here.

Afterwards - Skull

If Skull is released alongside Red and Sans, Red wouldn't care. Red is operating on confidence - why would Reader pick that freak over him?

Sans, on the other hand - if he couldn't kill Skull outright without getting caught, it would be easy enough to trigger him into a rage and have him sent back to prison. If Skull is released at any point while Sans is free, Skull would not have any chance of getting near Reader for any length of time.

[dabisqueen]

Always Yours

art credit: @/3-aem, original image here

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

⇢ rating: 18+

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: you dump Dabi and Hawks comforts you through the break-up. Yet, your thoughts always go back to the dark-haired man with the tantalizing blue eyes

⇢ warnings: 18+, a little blood, smoking, drinking, hurt, a bit of angst, kissing, slight dubcon, vaginal sex, orgasm, cream pie, cum, Hawks using his ways to seduce/drug reader (?), typos, fluff and a lot of personal experience put into this

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

personal note: another fic inspired by a prompt from my 400 Followers Event. totally blew out of proportion 😂

Special thanks to the extremely talented @/3-aem. her depiction of Dabi is among my most favorites. I love the mood and the lighting. thank you again for letting me use your artwork as a banner for this fic 💙

also many thanks to @/scruffymctee and the nonny for inspiring me. nonny, if you want to come out of your hiding, pls DM me so I can thank you

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

Dabi and you had met just by accident. You were going for a walk at night time, your shift had ended late, wanting to catch some fresh air in this exceptionally chill and crisp autumn night.

Walking through your favorite park, you noticed how isolated and quiet it was here at night. Wandering down the gravel path you spotted a young man hunched over, smoke billowing from his body, blue flames licking on him. He looked distressed, panting heavily, squirming as if in pain. You could have walked away, just kept on walking - but you couldn't.

So you approached him carefully.

Your gaze took in his unique appearance, his mesmerizing turquoise eyes against the backdrop of his raven hair, long dark lashes and bruise-colored scars below. His nose piercings and staples glinted in the soft light of the park lamps as he tilted his head, pain contorting his beautiful features.

"Don't come closer," he hissed at you.

But ignoring him, you reached out to touch his shoulder. His eyes widened with surprise as you weren't flinching at contact with the flames even though you burned yourself. You covered each flaming area with your palm, straightening over it, extinguishing the flames. You could feel your palms stinging as they got blistered, yet you didn't care. It would heal with time.

He seemed in a disheveled state, delirious, still shaking, his body almost searing hot to the touch. Helping him up, you led him the short distance back to your apartment to attend to his wounds.

As you walked back from your kitchen with a glass of water, he took it from you and placed it on the coffee table. Taking your hands into his, he turned them palms up, inspecting the burns and blisters on them.

"Why," he rasped in a low voice, not looking up.

You shrugged, "You seemed like you needed help. And this–" looking down at your palms, "Will heal."

After he drank the water, he introduced himself as Dabi and after having rested enough, he left.

The next evening, he stood in front of your door again, asking if he could come in.

You had been together since.

He was the first man you had really been with. In the beginning, you dated him purely because he fascinated you. And it was never a challenge for you to cope with his occasional erratic moods and behavior. But it quickly grew into love for him. For a man who was obviously so strong, determined, yet also so painfully vulnerable, his grief laying so bare.

But it hadn't been easy and you that hurt. Even though we were seeing each other, you were not even close to being in an official relationship. The feelings were deep-rooted on each side, yet his behavior was inconsistent. Leaving without saying goodbye, often staying away for days on end. You were dependant on him showing up in front of your door, pulling you towards him, stroking your hair, and apologizing. It was always the same. No matter how many times you swore it was over, you’d always find yourself back in his arms.

But the damage had been done. Half a year later, standing in front of the door to your apartment complex, ready to turn the key, the truth forced itself upon you, when you heard a low husky voice call out your name.

You instantly froze, feeling your heart ripped out of your chest by his voice.

"Didya miss me?" Dabi chuckled and stepped out of the shadows towards you.

You couldn't move, lips trembling, tears shooting in your eyes.

Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes, gipping your trembling hands, carefully choosing the next words, an unmistakably hurt tone in your voice "Missed you?"

He stopped abruptly, alerted by your unusual tone. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

"You seriously ask me If I missed you," this time I was louder, as you couldn't hold back the tears anymore, now freely running down your cheeks.

You wanted to scream at him that you loved him, adored him, wanted to be with him, forever... But you couldn't.

You spun towards him and screamed into his face, "Fuck yeah, I missed you, you goddamn fuckin bastard! For the whole fucking two weeks you were gone! Again, without fucking saying anything!"

The words were so heartbreakingly true. Dabi’s face was expressionless as he took in your rage.

“Dabi, I- I can't do this anymore." Your shoulders dropped as you gave up, "I just can't take it anymore. I didn't even know if you were still alive–"

"Whatya saying, doll?" his body tensed, head tilting.

You inhaled deeply, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the next words, "I– I don't want to see you again."

He froze, but regained his composure just as fast, a bored expression washing over his beautiful face. Still, you could see the hurt in his eyes.

He was silent for a few seconds before his lips curled up into a grim smile, “No, you don’t.”

He was always doing that - disguising his fear and hurt with bitterness. Hiding any part of himself that might be perceived as weak, as soft, as vulnerable, under the guise of coldness.

"Yes, I do. I can't go on like this anymore," your voice empty, just like your heart.

Dabi was standing there, scarred hands in his pockets, locking eyes with you. Taking in your determination. His beautiful cerulean eyes, capable of showing so much love and compassion, were cold and icy.

"Okay, suit yourself," his voice was full of venom, and with that he turned on his heel, sauntering off into the nightly street.

You stood there and watched him disappear down the road. He didn't even look back once, didn't say goodbye. An ache rose in your heart, unlike anything you have ever felt before. It was burning you up from the inside and you turned, violent sobs shaking your chest. Back in your apartment, you slammed the door shut, sagged down the door, and cried until you couldn't anymore. Until all tears had dried up for him. For the love of your life.

After you had calmed your rattled heart and nerves a bit, you stood up and wiped the remnants of your grief off your cheeks. Grabbing a bottle of wine from the kitchen pantry, you stuffed an opener in your pocket and made your way to the attic of the building. You unlocked it and opened a small window in the ceiling leading outside onto the rooftop.

No one living in the apartment complex knew about this. You had discovered it a few years back and once in a while, when you felt like it, you went on the top of the apartment complex. Stepping on the door handle of one of the doors leading to storage rooms, you hoisted yourself up. Placing the bottle outside, you followed through the window onto the rooftop.

Taking in the vast skyline, the dark skies, and stars scattered across it, you inhaled deeply and walked towards the ledge. Sitting down on it, you let your feet dangle over the void and opened the bottle to take a sip.

The chill wind blew a bit harder up here and you were glad that you still wore your thick coat and scarf. Pulling the scarf a bit higher, you continued to drink, gazing off into the distance. As the wind picked up from behind and a rustling sound was heard followed by a low thump, you were still immersed in your own world, not noticing the winged man suddenly standing behind you.

"Whatcha doin' out here, birdie?" A low voice cut through your thoughts and your head spun around to see Hawks only a few feet away, head cocked, a charming smile on his face.

"Shit," you mumbled, totally perplexed.

"Oh, that's not exactly what I expected as a response, but hey!" He grinned, his tan jacket pulled up to his nose to keep in the warmth.

Waving with the bottle you gazed back off into the distance again before answering, "Just enjoying the beautiful view."

And trying to forget a certain someone.

"The only beautiful thing I see out here is you." He cooed, making your cheeks heat up and you could feel him grin, "Mind if I join?"

“Aren't you on patrol? " you wondered, peering at him over your shoulders.

"My shift ends in ten, so as long as you don't tell, I won’t get into trouble," he winked and settled down next to you, his gracious carmine wings folding up behind him. They were so immense, they almost stroked your back. You handed him the bottle and he took a sip.

"Hm, good. I like red wine." He purred approvingly.

"So, what's up baby bird? Your eyes are all puffy and I can tell you've been crying. Wanna tell?" he looked at me with concern.

You shook your head, "Just dumped an ass who kept disappearing on me."

"Oh…" Were his only words. You continued drinking in silence, viewing the stars above and the lights of the city below you.

You felt exhausted and leaned back onto the roof, arms crossed behind your head.

Hawks shifted to gaze at you from above, his wings blocking off the chilly wind for you both. There was an intensity in his amber eyes, you weren't used to looking into such a warm gaze. A genuine smile spread across his handsome features as he extended his hand to stroke your cheek, "You're pretty, chicks."

You flushed and averted your gaze, not wanting to give him the chance to continue, "I– I think I need to go now, it's getting cold."

"Ok." He kept smiling, cocking his head, his golden eyes gleaming, "Gonna be here tomorrow as well?"

"Don't know yet," you slowly got up, "But my apartment is just below."

He gazed down over the rim of the roof, "Mind if I drop by tomorrow? Wine will be on me," he snickered.

"Yeah, ok," a little bit of comfort couldn't hurt right, you thought, especially not from the second hero in ranking.

Ever since night, Hawks had been dropping by your apartment repeatedly. It had been a couple of weeks now, and he would always come in from the balcony, landing with a soft thump. He’d stay for the evening, watch a movie and drink wine with you, or share take-out he brought with him. You spend hours on end talking with the blonde, he was funny, relaxing in his ease. There was never any bitterness and it was a welcoming change.

Tonight had been a typical evening with him, sitting on the couch, drinking some red wine he had brought with him. Just relaxing. There hadn't been a moment of silence between you, the air filled with deep conversations or genuine laughter. Hawks had a gentle smile spread across his face as he leaned into the couch to get a better look at you. Feeling his gaze intensify, your body started to tingle and a familiar heat built up inside your core.

You pushed the reaction on the alcohol and got up, wandering over to the kitchen to pour yourself some water.

After you took the first sip, the water wettening your lips, you felt a feather-light touch on you, large gentle hands stroking your side and coming to rest on your hips. Hawks leaned in against you, his breath warm on your neck.

You closed your eyes. You had dreaded and dreamed of this situation. Your body reacted eagerly to his touch and you thought maybe, just maybe it would help mend your broken heart. Yet, the entire situation also felt foreign to you, your mind still screaming betrayal.

His warm soft lips touched your skin, peppering your neck with soft kisses. A small involuntary moan slipped from your lips and Hawks' feathers fluffed at the sound. His fingers brushed against yours as he pulled the glass of water out of your hand, placing it on the counter and gently turning you around.

You felt your heart hammering against your rib cage, the energy he radiated drugging your senses, making you feel shy all over again.

Something hardened and intensified in his light gold gaze as his arm wrapped around your back and pulled you in, his mouth hovering over yours. You could feel his breath on your wet lips, his golden eyes burning into yours with desire. And then he closed the gap and your mouths met, his tongue swiping against your lower lip.

He eagerly parted them as you felt him dive inside, deepening the kiss. He tasted and smelt so completely different from Dabi, like warm down feathers and honey, and even though it was foreign to you, it felt relieving - and you couldn't say no, couldn't push him away.

He pulled back for only a moment, to whisper “I knew you’d kiss like an angel,” before he was kissing you again.

He picked you up and helped your legs around his waist, carrying you off to your bedroom. He never stopped kissing you, longing tongue exploring your mouth. Your hands weaved through his windstrewn hair for some semblance of reality, everything about this felt so different to intimacy with Dabi. It was something so foreign - another man's hands all over your body,

Carefully placing you on the bedsheets, he asked, "Ready for me, my dove?"

He wedged his knee between your legs and hovered over you, his large wings spread wide, blocking out the light. Leaning in, he kissed you again, his warm hands slowly sliding beneath your shirt, down towards your back. You arched to help him undo our bra, while he tugged on your lips, sending little forbidden jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your moans were swallowed by Hawks' lips as his hands found your breasts, sliding under the loosened cups to circling them. As he suddenly pinched your nubs you jolted and he chuckled into your mouth.

He leaned back, breaking the kiss to pull your shirt off, the bra following promptly, allowing your breasts to spill free. He took a second to appreciate your bareness.

"You are so beautiful," you heard him whisper while he gazed at you, pupils contracting into slim vertical lines.

His hands moving to tug your pants down, your panties following them in one swift move. You closed your eyes for a second. It felt awkward and treacherous being naked in front of a new man, a different set of eyes staring at your naked body.

Feeling his palms run gently circles onto your thighs you slowly relaxed though and he bent forward.

“You’re so good, so perfect.” He continued to coo as he pressed soft kisses against your cheek, trailing down the pulse of your neck.

“Do you like that, birdie?” He continued to palm your breasts, soft moans leaving your lips. You didn't know what to feel. Your body reacted on its own account while your mind was torn. Somehow it didn't feel right.

His hands slipped towards his pants to unzip them, tugging them down. His shirt followed right after. His cock was beautiful, even though not as girthy and long as Dabi's. It curved up a bit and the blond tuft at its bottom was nicely trimmed. Under any other circumstances you would have shivered with excitement, but now you weren't sure what to feel.

He parted your thighs and scooted in between them. Taking his cock in his hand he gave himself a few languid strokes, gliding its tip up your folds to collect some of the slick there. A forbidden moan left your throat, spurring him on even more. His wings spread out, creating a feathered cage around you both.

Towering over you, he pressed forward, his sharpened pupils not leaving your sight and you gasped, feeling the stretch of his cock forcing its way inside your walls.

This didn’t feel right.

“Hawks-“ You dug your hands into his shoulders as he didn't give you a moment to adjust. You clenched your eyes shut, a bitter feeling of betrayal washing over you as you squirmed against him.

He cooed “Almost there dove, it's ok-“ pupils slithered as he watched the way you writhed beneath him. Finally, he bottomed out, golden eyes piercing down at you, his cock buried deep inside. You gasped as he began to move, his warm palms pushing your thighs towards your chest, yellow eyes watching his thick cock slipping in and out of you.

“Such a good chick for me,” He cooed, as you tried to grasp the situation you found yourself in. You fought the increasing pleasure inside as your heart hurt with the betrayal you felt, “Hawks, please, I- I don't–“

This wasn’t supposed to be.

“Look at how pretty you are,” Hawks didn’t even notice that your mind was elsewhere, a palm coming up to your breast, squeezing it.

A fire raged in his gleaming eyes as he continued his pace, his cock kissing your cervix with every rut.

Again, you pleaded, "Hawks–“

Stop it, please.

And then you heard it. It started off low but increased in its intensity with each of his ruts. It was hypnotizing, the sound reverberating through your body, drugging your senses. You gasped as you realized it emanating from his feathers. They were vibrating, creating a rustling hum that filled the air, almost deafening in its intensity. Everything around you was reduced to this low buzz and the feeling of Hawks moving inside you.

"That's it, baby bird," he cooed, seeing your eyes dilate and glaze over, feeling your body go limb below him, "Just listen and relax."

He increased the pace, his golden eyes staring down at you, pupils thin like splinters, while he gave your weakened body more thrusts, each time his cock dragging along the spongy spot inside you.

"Such a good birdie." his deep, guttural coos perfectly in sync with the low hypnotizing hum of his feathers, vibrating through you, having your pupils grow even wider. You felt like drowning in the sounds, your breathing becoming heavy and you started panting involuntarily, forbidden loud moans mixing with his mating sounds.

Hawks kept increasing his pace, rutting his hips into you now, chasing his high. Your own climax quickly approached as well and you couldn't do anything against it, you were helplessly immobilized below him, the rustling hum seeping through everything you, making you his.

Hawks kept up his pace and your walls clamped shut, a couple more thrusts sent you over the edge, your high making the world around you explode. Your whole body painfully shook as wave after wave of delirious warped pleasure washed over you.

Hawks was groaning loudly now before his movement became erratic and he gripped your hips, burying himself to the hilt inside you. Feeling your walls convulse around him, he came, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, spilling white, hot spurts of cum inside your tight walls.

He collapsed on top of you, his hot lips pressing soft kisses against your neck as you felt his chest continue to heave, trying to catch his breath. His feathers had grown quiet, leaving you with an empty feeling in your head and body. His hands trailed down your sides as he pulled back to look into your eyes, you slowly coming to, like waking from a deep dream, suddenly feeling completely exposed in front of him.

All you could think of was Dabi. And your heart started aching with longing, with hurt. Tears spilled from your eyes, cascading down your temples and Hawks looked down at you, stroking your cheek.

"You ok, dove?" He asked softly.

You couldn't talk, too choked up to bring out any words.

"Was I that good?" He teased, laughing softly, and, wrapping his arms around you, rolled over, taking you with him. His wings folded around you, keeping you warm, while you shook in his hold. You couldn't stop the tears from falling, being in the wrong man's arms, not being able to forget those cerulean eyes.

Eventually, your sobs subsided and exhaustion took over. Wrapped up in Hawks wings, feeling his warm chest below you, his gentle kisses on your head, a warmth spread through your body, making your mind fuzzy and it didn't take long for you to fall asleep in his arms.

One fine autumn evening you decided to have a walk at the park, not realizing... you walked to that very same spot you both first met. The autumn moon gave a faint light around the area. The chilly breeze cools your skin... the nocturnal creatures whispered together with the trees.. the owls hooting softly... you missed him … you sigh... the beautiful colors of autumn made you miss him even more. You nearly cried when you felt a pair of hands pull you in... “Dollface…” a familiar husky voice said, his lips brushing against your ears…

You woke up, cheeks wet from tears, panting heavily, sweat-drenched. Hawks next to you stirred awake, his warm golden eyes heavy with sleep took you in.

"What's up, baby bird - bad dream?" He wiped the tears off your face, while you were still shaking.

"Yes," you sobbed and he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Awh, c’mon dove, come here," he extended his arm and pulled you close to him, nestling you on his chest. His wings wrapped around you, warmth calming your rattled nerves.

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't all that bad. Maybe you could make this work. Those were the last thought before a dreamless sleep overtook your mind again.

When you awoke in the morning, you heard clattering sounds from the kitchen. You propped yourself up and saw Hawks in the kitchen, dressed in his underwear, humming satisfied to himself, brewing some coffee.

He looked at you over his shoulders, "Good morning baby bird. How are you feeling?"

"Good, thank you," you stretched and yawned, forcing the sleep slowly from your sore limbs.

Hawks approached and sat down next to you. He handed you a coffee, "Here ya go, sweet chick," and leaned in to kiss you.

You mumbled a thank you and started sipping, still pondering the events from last night.

Hawks took you in, cocking his head, and tipped you on your forehead, "You're way too pretty to wreck your cute brain with worry."

"Oh, oh sorry," you stuttered, blushing a bit.

"I know what kind of reputation I have." He added, "But I want you to know that what I did last night came from my heart."

"Yes, it's ok, thank you. It's just…" you paused and sighed, "I am having a hard time coming to terms with the old stuff."

"Hm, I see. Well," his warm lips met yours again, the taste of sweet coffee lingering on them as his tongue slid in to deepen the kiss, "Maybe we can work it out together?"

Pulling back, his amber eyes gleamed at you, there was a consistency in them that had your heart longing. Suddenly a future with him played off right in front of your eyes. Being with him, having him come home every night to you, your kids, to a regular home. Noo hiding, going out into public, holding hands, living a normal life.

You felt like crying again and Hawks placed his mug on the nightstand. With his warm hands, he cupped your face and his golden eyes glowed when he said " Look birdie, I meant what I said. You think about that ok?“

He kissed you, "I'm gonna leave now, sure you gonna be ok?"

You nodded, “Hawks, i- it's not you. It's just too much at the moment. Everything."

He kissed you again and stood up, his palm caressing your cheek, "Take your time, birdie."

Turning around, he got dressed and pulled out a paper. He took a pen from the kitchen counter, scribbled something on it, and placed it into your open palms.

"My number. Call me any time," he winked, a handsome smile adorning his face, then left out the door.

Alone again, you threw yourself back onto the bed, pulled the sheets over your head, and started crying.

A couple of days had passed. Hawks and you had been writing back and forth. Coming back from work as usual, you saw him waiting at the entrance to your apartment complex, jacket pulled up into his face. He had called you an hour before, asking to see you.

As you stepped up to him, you were greeted by a happy smile, “Hey there, dove, missed ya!"

You lowered your gaze abashedly, not knowing what to answer. You had thought about the situation for the last few days and still couldn't come to a conclusion. You really liked being with Hawks, but your heart couldn't stop beating for the dark-haired man with tantalizing blue eyes.

Hawks seemed to notice your indecisiveness and stepped closer, “I wanted to tell you something," he paused, his amber eyes glowing with longing in the dim light of the street lamps.

"Baby bird, I want you. Just- just be with me and you can have anything in this world,” he hummed, closing in on you.

"Hawks–“ you bit my lower lip to stop it from shaking, “I'm just not sure–"

You took a few steps backward, away from him closing in on you, and felt your back hitting the cold stone wall.

"C'mon dove," he purred as he leaned in, placing his hands to each side of you, caging you in. The scent of warm down feathers enclosed you, making your head dizzy. You couldn't move, just getting lost in his hypnotizing glowing eyes. His pupils contracted to slithers again and you felt like being sucked into them, your breathing became heavy, not being able to move at all.

He leaned in but before his lips met yours, a low husky voice rumbled through to you "Hey birdbrain, get your fucking self away from my girl.”

Hearing that familiar voice instantly ripped you out of your stupor and you arched, gasping for air. Suddenly the noises came back, the light, the smells.

Hawks stopped in his tracks, sighed in annoyance, and closed his eyes.

Your heart dropped and tears soared to your eyes as Dabi stepped out of the shadows, hoodie pulled over his head. You could still make out his prominent skin patches, the glints of his piercings in the dark light. But his mesmerizing eyes caught your breath, glowing bright and a brilliant blue in the dark.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise," you could feel Hawks tense up, turning as he was face to face with one of the most notorious villains sought after. He stood in front of you, blocking your view, as his feathers tensed and let out a low threatening sound.

Dabi stepped up to you both and repeated, "I said to leave my girl alone!"

Hawks looked at you over his shoulders, face unusual tense as he cocked a brow "Tell me, is it true? His girl?"

You nodded softly, lowering your gaze.

Hawks sighed heavily and closed his eyes, "Oh dove, what have you done–"

Turning back to Dabi, he was met by a cold turquoise stare. There was a heavy silence as they stood opposite from each other, glaring into each other's eyes. You could feel the tension in the air and decided to step up. Slowly sliding in the space between them, you faced Hawks, Dabi behind you shifting so that you felt him brush your back. Heat radiated from him, seeping from his body enough to make you cringe.

"Hawks please…" you peered up at him, pleading. He looked towards Dabi, ignoring you completely, hate billowing in his golden eyes.

Dabi stepped closer to you until you were flush with him and you didn’t budge, you both staring at Hawks, waiting. It felt like an eternity, but the blonde was the first one to back down, averting his eyes with a sigh. The gesture was small but there was submission to it.

Hawks looked at you, his eyes becoming gentle again, as sadness in them as he stroked your cheek with his thumb, "Baby bird, if you ever change your mind, you know how to reach me." And with that, he turned around, took a few steps, spread his wings, and took off into the air.

Violent sobs erupted from inside you as Dabi turned you around to pull your shaking body into his embrace.

"You came back," you hiccuped, lashes thick with tears, pressing your face into his warm chest.

He cupped your face, gently kissing your cheeks and his forehead came to a rest against yours.

"I came back. For you." His voice was an octave lower and husky in your ear than usual.

You bit your bottom lip and your gazes met, his brilliant azure eyes burning into yours.

He let out a low growl. "Come on, It's about time we head home."

He took your hand and strolled down the street.

"Where are we heading? That's not the direction to my apartment." You raised your head and questioningly looked up to him.

"We're going to my place," his beautiful lips curled up into a smirky grin as he saw your reaction.

You made a punch-out sound, "You're taking me to your place?" And stopped dead in your tracks.

"M’gonna do things differently now." He gently pulled you in for another sultry kiss, “Had a lot of time thinking about what you said to me,” you hum in delight as you sink into his kiss, having waited for this so long.

As you kept strolled down the streets, hands intertwined, he pulled you in close as it had gotten cold and draped his arm around your shoulders. His body was warm, almost hot and you snuggled up to him, enjoying the moment of casual intimacy.

After hopping on a late-night bus, and getting off in some industrial part of town, he stopped in front of an old brick storage building, pulling out the key. As you entered through the door, you took in his place. It was loft-like, with high ceilings, air ducts littering the wall. A small kitchenette, couch, and coffee table. It was sparsely decorated but clean. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his hoodie off, carelessly throwing it on the couch.

Without warning he turned towards you and pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms. His breath heavy, cerulean eyes wide. You had never seen him like that before.

“I’ve missed ya,” he whispered, grazing your lips with his.

You got lost in his azure gaze, sparks setting off into your brain and throughout your body, as he gently captured your lips with his and pried them open. His tongue found yours with slow passionate swirls as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. You let off a sigh as you gave in, letting waves of pleasure run throughout you. Your mind went blank as you felt lust cloud your thoughts and goosebumps rippled all over your skin.

It felt so good to taste him again, have his scent surrounding you. The intoxicating mixture of deep musk, hot skin, and ashes mixed with cold cigarette smoke. You moaned into the kiss, your yearning for him growing by the second. You could feel the heat built up between your thighs as he caged you in with his body.

The room started to feel hot and muggy and before you knew it, he hoisted you on his shoulders ignoring your meek complaints, and carried you off to his bedroom. He gently laid you down on the sheets, helping you pull your shirt off. His hand snaked behind your back, trailing up to undo the clasp of your bra with a skillful snap of his fingers. He removed it and your pants and underwear followed soon after.

Hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt, he pulled it off, revealing his lean, muscular torso. The white hair trailing down his abs to his pants made you shiver in anticipation.

You leaned forward and grabbed for his belt, fingers fumbling to get it unbuckled. He chuckled at your eagerness but let you continue on. When you finally had his belt and pants undone you pulled them down and let his thick long cock spring forth, hanging heavy under its own weight. Its tip was soft and red, small beads of precum glistening on the top. Its incredible girth made your mouth water and you let out a slight mewl as he closed in on you.

You squirmed beneath him, rubbing your thighs against each other as your inner walls started fluttering with excitement.

You scooted back, laying down on your back. Dabi sucked in a long breath through his teeth as you willingly parted your legs and he positioned himself between them. Resting his hands on either side of you, he towered over you, his gaze never leaving yours. Dipping in for another kkis, you could feel his hot tip prodding your entrance. Slowly lowering himself down on you, the kiss intensified as his tip slipped past the first ring of tightness. You panted into his mouth, overwhelmed by the feeling of his tip sliding in, hitting every single nerve on its way in.

“Shit,” Dabi groaned and it took forever for him to sink fully into you. He marveled at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in deeper as he bottomed out inside you, the messy white hairs at the base of his cock tickling your clit.

He gave you time to adjust to his size, his eyes drifting across your face, almost glowing in the dark, consuming you with unrestrained desire.

As he slowly started moving, his large cock dragged against your inner walls, making you feel every single inch of him sliding in and out. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, desperately wanting him to fill you up. Spurred on by the sweet sounds spilling from your mouth he picked up the pace, pushing in and out of you with strong languid strokes. Each roll of his hips had him rubbing just the right spot in your sensitive wall.

Dabi started panting, sweat dripping down his face, resting his head in the crook of your neck as each rock of his hips caused you both to teeter closer to the edge.

Your whole body began to tingle with pleasure, it was such an intense feeling, it had you feverently call out his name.

Dabi's breathing was ragged, chest heaving as his hips relentlessly slammed against yours, “It's Touya, call me Touya.”

“Touya-” you panted.

“Fuck…” he groaned as your gooey walls clenched around his length at his name.

You arched your back and gripped the sheets tighter, as you felt the orgasm inside you near at incredible speed.

“Touya–gonna cum–” you choked out as he snapped his hips against yours, feeling the way your walls pulsed around him, his eyes holding nothing but lust at this point.

When your climax hit you, all control over your body was lost as your head fell back. It had you spiraling, falling through an explosion of color behind your eyelids as you shook in his hold.

Dabi did not leave you a moment to wind down and you keened, pressing a trembling palm against his abdomen, feeling the firm of his muscles under your fingers as you tried to slow his speed.

Feeling his thick ridge stroking against your overstimulated walls was too much. Each rock of his hips pushed you towards yet another orgasm. This time though, it felt like an impending storm, severe and ferocious.

"Oh my god," you cried out, slamming your eyes shut, trying to squirm away from him. But his grip kept you anchored to his hips as you bucked and writhed.

"Touya—," you choked out, the feeling of the dangerous edge approaching fast, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Look at me” he groaned, and you obeyed, lust-blown pupils under wet lashes centered in on him.

Still holding you by your hips, Dabi pushed you into yet another earth-shattering orgasm as your cries climaxed and the coil inside of you snapped. Totally helpless, each fiber of your body exploded with searing pleasure, your body a total mess of squirms and cries.

“I love you, I love you–“ Touya kept panting with each of his deep thrusts, his breath hot on your face. You felt nothing but him, filling your every existence with his presence.

The way you squeezed around him had him follow shortly after, bottoming out inside you a final time as he came, painting your quivering walls with his warm white seeds.

Totally spent, he dropped down on top of you, his hips still shaking as he sought your mouth with his and greedily stole your desperate moans from your lips. Your name slipped from his mouth as you muttered his.

He slowly lifted his head, his eyes enchanting you with their intensity. You had never seen this expression on his face before, so deep, filled with passion. He suddenly pulled you in for a tight embrace, sinking into you, head buried deep into your neck.

“I love you,” he muttered, and his voice almost broke.

It was the first time you saw his composure crumbling. And you reached up to run your hands through his messy hair. He hummed at your actions and dove in for another kiss, this time more passionate, open-mouthed.

“I love you so much,” Dabi panted again, locking your lips with his before you could answer, “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won't-” you breathed into the kiss, aching for him so badly, it almost hurt.

You inhaled each other's breaths as you both slowly came to. After a while, he rolled off and reached over to the small nightstand next to the bed, grabbing a cigarette package. Taking a one out, he lit it with a small flame on his fingertip, took a drag, and relaxed back into the sheets. Letting out the smoke, it twirled up in thick white ropes, winding it's way up to the ceiling.

He went silent, his mesmerizing turquoise eyes locked with yours as he raised his dexterous fingers to his mouth and took another drag off his cigarette.

After a few more, he put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand and moved to gently lay on top of you, "Move in with me."

"Mo- what?" you stared at him in disbelief.

"You heard me, doll," he rested his forehead against yours, his voice almost desperate, "M'not gonna ask again."

His eyes met yours and you studied each other for a moment.

"Ok," you breathed, almost trembling.

He grinned, “That's my girl!”

Your hands cupped his marred face, a seriousness in your next words, "Touya, but I– I want a kid, your kid. And a family. Not now, but–." your voice trailed off with uncertainty, tears pricking your eyes.

There was a softness washing over his face, his eyes lightening up ever so slightly. They were full of something inexplicable and affectionate. A rosy hint spread across his cheeks and his face dropped, burrowed into your neck.

It took a few ragged breaths of his to whispering softly, "We'll figure that out as well– together. I promise."

Heavy sobs erupted at his words, "You really mean it?"

"Did I ever lie to you?" he purred against your bare skin as he peppered soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. His perfect nose ran circles along your neck as he whispered “I love you.”

"I love you too-" you breathed, barely able to suppress more tears of joy.

His hand found yours, intertwining as you both stayed like this waiting for your hearts to stop racing. He stroked your face gently, his turquoise eyes never leaving yours, enjoying the moments of perfect harmony.

Eventually, he rolled off to the side, taking you with him and you eagerly slid into his embrace, burying your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him. He pulled the sheets over you and sleep finally took mercy on you as you both remained in each other’s arms, legs intertwined.

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