#they’re manic little fuckers

[deathnguts]

Dabi Todoroki is a Barty Crouch Jr variant and I’m tired of pretending he’s not

[via-the-cryptid]

How would frost queen react to seeing a living simon? With magic powers no less

ohoho, I have an idea for this.

so Frost Queen is crazy as hell, right? she’s just better at hiding it. it’s a real Winter King situation here, like… if you’re that sane, you would not have been fine with offloading your manic madness onto some random candy woman who then proceeded to obsess over you for like a hundred years. similarly, the Frost Queen literally made herself a replacement Frost Simon! and she didn’t even give him freedom of choice, she essentially treats Frost Simon like a doll that she just carries around with her everywhere, which Magic Simon is kinda creeped out by. Snow Betty was overprotective, sure, but she still tried to listen to what he wanted, and after he showed her that he wasn’t going to get himself killed and/or abandon her, she pretty much let him do whatever he wanted. Frost Queen is far more like a little girl playing dolls — she puppeteers everything around and doesn’t give her creations the option to disagree with her. I don’t know if they’re conscious enough to actually feel that disagreement, but either way they’re not going to be saying anything, especially not Frost Simon.

but when FQ meets Magic Simon, he’s everything she wants. that’s the real Simon, not a doll made of ice, and she wants him. he’d be crown jewel (ha) of her doll collection, all she has to do is get ahold of him, and she can make him her newest frost doll. he won’t disagree or say no — of course he won’t. None of her dolls ever tell her anything she doesn’t want to hear.

Snow Betty, however, is greatly opposed to this creepy fucker trying to kidnap her husband to make into a marionette, and therefore they have to duke it out again. not the first time she’s tried to shank someone on behalf of Simon’s continued freedom, and it probably won’t be the last! Simon also joins the fight and as do the children, mostly to fight off the marionettes — Snow Betty gets to punch Frost Queen in the nose herself.

[sycamore-brooke]

Greek gods/titans as quotes from me and my friends without context

Zeus: “Colonialism is trending”

Artemis: “(Apollo) I’m taking you back to the department store. I don’t have my receipt but they’ll probably give me store credit”

Ares: “Because they’re fucking divorced”

Hermes: “Don’t mind me I’m just over here, edging hubris”

Apollo: “This isn’t a kink it’s an accommodation”

Also Apollo: “When it comes to Greek… it’s Greek” Athena: “very insightful”

Helios: “well we can’t all have skin cancer so it’s fine.”

Deimos: “I’m the Henry Ford of torture devices. So simple. So efficient. Never before have you been able to torture this many people at once.”

Dionysus: “Y’all know I got that lactose free dick”

Eros and Phobos “A little flair if you will” “I won’t” “you will”

Poseidon: “Everybody gangster till the Cyclopes show up”

Hephaestus: “they look cute and then you get rabies. Like (Ares).”

Hermes: “you know what (Ares), I only have one thing to say to you *starts playing Rasputin*”

Menoitios: “come here you little fucker you’re going in the meat grinder”

Hades as a teenager: “I’m just drawing emo wolves. Don’t read into it.”

Clio: “I want to listen to Hamilton I need to calm myself down. *frantically scrolling on phone* WHERES THE TEN DOLLAR FOUNDING FATHER WHEN I NEED HIM”

Artemis at Apollo “every single god from every single religion is judging you right now. Yes, that includes Cthulhu.”

Dionysus: “I’m blonde, I’m skinny, I’m rich, and my balls really itch”

Artemis at all men “what if we put our Minecraft beds next to each other. In the nether.”

Phobos: “You know what really gets me going in the bedroom? The River Styx.”

Themis: “Ladies and gentlemen I will be your judge, jury and executioner”

Athena at Dionysus/Pan“Well, I’d say you’re incredibly manic if I was diagnosing you”

Hermes: “the president? I’m glad that isn’t a tradition”

Poseidon and Dionysus completely drunk: *singing boats and hoes from step brothers at full volume in a public space* “THE NINA THE PINTA THE SANTA MARIA-“

Ares, constantly, at everyone “You, with no weapons or armor, me with full enchanted netherite and a trident with impaling V and channeling I. /weather set thunder mother fucker.”

And bonus: demigods

Blue is Percy Jackson, green is Grover Underwood, orange is Annabeth Chase

“Plot twist, William Afton is Hephaestus” “I think that’s what we call blasphemy” “that’s a weird way to spell Hephaestus” “ok so-what was his motivation for the child murder-?”

[eye-of-yelough]

Here’s a fragment of an old Gortash/Aeryn wip i abandoned because i didn’t like how i was characterising Gort (too soft) so here’s the best part. which is coincidentally his meanest part >:3

it’s not overtly sexual but it is mature. they’re both very horny.

dubcon/intox warning (both very mild)

Finally meeting Gortash’s eyes makes him feel like a mallet’s been taken to his head, seeing the expression he imagines is on his own face reflected back to him. Wide, already dark eyes consumed by the blackest black of his pupils, taking shallow breaths through his ever so slightly slackjawed lips. He isn’t unaffected by this. Enver Gortash, professional liar, so affected he doesn’t even pretend not to be.

And then the bastard grins.

He watches as he reaches back for the champagne, unwilling to break eye contact. There’s a glint of manic excitement in his eye, and the faintest of wavers in voice as he holds the bottle up to Aeryn’s mouth.

“My friend, you look like you could use a drink.”

The tingle between his thighs turns to a pounding throb as Gortash’s expression turns downright sadistic. He doesn’t have time to react before his head is being tugged back by Gortash’s fist in his hair and the disgusting liquid is forced into his open mouth. He knows it’s not poisoned, it was opened fresh and he’s already had a glass of it, so what’s this fucker’s game?! The bottle is put down, or it must be, because the hand it was in covers his mouth, barring exit.

“Be a dear and swallow it, darling, or do you want to choke?”

He reaches both hands up to seize Gortash’s wrist, but not before his hair is painfully yanked again, bringing a pitiful, muffled cry from him. That, along with the jostling nearly does make him choke.

“Breathe, and obey.” The way he can manipulate his voice to sound simultaneously so comforting and leave no room for disobedience should be studied by aspiring Banites everywhere. He realises the wretched throb between his thighs has only intensified, as well as the pounding of his heart, and the haziness in his skull. He closes his eyes - Father, forgive me, he’s ruined my life - and swallows.

Emotion overwhelms him, arousal, animalistic rage, dizziness, butterflies. He can only stare and shake violently as they war within him, unsure wether he wants to bury into Gortash’s chest cavity out of hatred or to crawl in and let himself be consumed. Hands slide away, taking their warmth with them, as Gortash leans back, shifting his weight, laughing faintly in disbelief and still wearing that shit eating grin, a mischievous look in his eye like he’s just been given the keys to Aeryn’s soul, and has no intention of using it with even the loosest definition of kindness.

“I can’t believe you let me do that. I just wanted to see what would happen but- Ha! My, my, you’ve lost your edge, little Bhaalist.”

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Pumpkins, Mist And Zombrits

Mist curls around their ankles like tentacles and Dean, cursing loudly, stumbles and falls as they run across the pumpkin patch. As usual, monsters are at their heels. Dean rolls onto his back, roughly aims his sawed-off shotgun and blasts a load of rock salt into the spirit-zombie-hybrid that’s already reaching for him. 

“Bite me!” he shouts, watching the monster disintegrate into grey splatter and smoke.

“Come on, Dean!” Sam grabs him and hauls him to his feet. “There’s too many! Run!”

His little brother is right. Clots of muddy soil are dropping off him as Dean finds his feet and starts running again. He quickly turns his head and sees at least a dozen more creatures chasing them, and fast. They may have the undead look of the Walking Dead, but they’re gliding, their bodies not quite solid and flickering in the moonlight. Unearthly, rotten sounds come from their mouths, and the stench… 

Dean grips his shotgun tight and picks up the pace, Sam beside him. They force their way through the layer of mist, skirt around roots and vines, jump over pumpkins. It’s a goddamn parkour, with added jump scares when one of the “Zombrits” (Dean will be proud of this word creation later) suddenly re-materializes before them.

Just like one of them is doing now, six feet in front of Sam.

“Sammy!”

Dean’s warning cry isn’t necessary. Sam is ready, foregoing the handgun in his right hand for the machete in his left. Never slowing down, he swings it at the monster and lops its head straight off, jumping over its crumbling corpse as it drops.

A moan, too close for comfort, has Dean jerk around and, no kidding, those fuckers reek. One eye dangling from its socket, this one is particularly fugly, catching up on Dean’s unguarded left side, already almost upon him. Dean uses his left forearm to steady the shotgun. Its boom echoes through the October night. The creature’s head explodes.

To his right, Dean hears Sam yelp and drop out of his vision. 

Fuck!

Dean stops and pivots.

Sam is on the ground, on his belly, a tattered Zombrit clawing at his back. Fabric tears, possibly skin. Sam cries out.

“Get off him!” Dean slams the butt end of his shotgun into the creature’s face. Its head snaps back, decayed vertebrae pulverizing, skull caved in. 

Home run.

But there’s no time for triumph. And no time to look at Sam’s injuries. There’s blood soaking through the rips in Sam’s shirt, but they’ll have to wait, and they obviously can; Sam’s already struggling upright while Dean covers his back, pumping more rock salt into another set of Zombrits. 

“You okay, Sammy?”

“I’m good, let’s go!”

They make it to the edge of the pumpkin patch, more or less in one piece, not counting the sprained ankle Dean will hobble around with for the next few days or the three deep grooves in Sam’s back they’ll hold together with steri-strips. 

They make it to the edge, breathless, muddy, and with burning lungs, and, to their surprise and relief, the monsters stop short where pumpkin patch meets gravel road. Some spell, some crazy rule keeps them from crossing over and, really, the Winchester brothers are due a little luck.

Safe in the Impala, Dean gives his little brother a quick once-over, pats him on the back (where he's not bleeding) and grins, relief and adrenaline making him slightly manic. He ruffles Sam’s hair.

“Happy Halloween, little brother!”

Leaning forward, away from the seat, Sam grimaces. “Jerk.”

Dean smirks and, rolling down the window, flips the bird at the pouting Zombrits in the pumpkin patch. He revs up the engine of the Impala, and they roll off into the night, Blue Öyster Cult blasting from the radio.

[bee-c-e]

(Re)Vengance

CW: non-detailed violence, potentially OOC

Notes: this is literally my first time writing Hazbin characters, so while i did my best to make them accurate, they’re probably bit out of character. sorry!

♥���•♣️•♦️•♠️• • •🦌•🥩•🎙️•🫀

The Radio Demon lied on the dusty ground, panting heavily, desperately grasping for some sense of being able to breathe. Never would he have thought he’d find himself at the sharp end of this sword, so to speak.

“Husker- my good friend- surely you must understand the… consequences- of your actions?”

“I understand perfectly. Do you?” Husk’s voice was lower than the overlord demon could say he had ever heard it before. His previous pet was barely speaking above a whisper, though the sound resonated in Alastor’s ears. His smile strained.

After several moments of silence, Charlie spoke up, sounding shaky, “Husk… you really shouldn’t do this. I mean- he’s done so much for all of us-“

“What has he done for me except take me prisoner for years?” He was strangely calm, seemingly apathetic about the situation he was in. His speech wasn’t crazed, nor manic. It was almost professional. The Princess of Hell stood behind him, making him look over his shoulder from where he had the Radio Demon pinned by the neck.

Uncomfortable silence echoed in his ears, and he relished in it. “Let’s face it, Charlie, the only person this fucker has helped is you.”

Charlie flinched, averting her gaze to the ground.

“I beg to differ, dear Husker. I’ve helped all of you in several ways. How else would you have fended off the angelic army if not for my knowledge of their weakness?”

Husk looked back at Alastor, “Yeah? Well, here we are. Who’s on whose leash now?” He watched in pure satisfaction as Alastor’s ears went back and the demon was able to do nothing about the rage he so clearly wanted to express. He could never again yank on Husk’s chain until he choked- threaten to tear his soul apart atom by atom. Even more, every year spent under that piece of shit had been beaten back into the demon, save for one. And how satisfying was that, to refer to him as a demon? Not an overlord, not his master- a demon. Like the rest of them (well, most of them. Husk still wasn’t sure what the fuck Niffty was). The reversal of roles was such poetic irony that Husk could wax its stanza for years on end without tiring.

“Angel spared Valentino, despite how much of a piece of shit that fucker is. Who’s to say I won’t do the same?” Husk spoke over his shoulder again to Charlie, and noticed that her expression was the epitome of internal conflict. She didn’t know until today the shit that Alastor had put him through. Didn’t know until today the extent of what Alastor had done to all of the souls under him. But freedom had finally come, and what a magnificent reward it was, to feel the weight of chains lifting from every limb. To hold the vital point of his tormentor in his own hand. Something so crucial, and yet so easy to crush.

Speak of the sinner, Angel watched only a slight distance from Charlie, looking stuck between concern and contentedness. He, more than anyone else here, knew the liberation that came not only with regaining your soul, but with forcing the one who held it for so long to quiver at your feet in fear the same way they forced you to so many times.

“That’s great, Husk! I knew-“

“Didn’t say I would.”

Alastor shuffled in his grip, his ears still back and his eyes narrowed, “Husker-“

Husk chuckled humorlessly, “You’d think you’d know when to shut your fucking mouth.”

Alastor, shockingly, stilled, though his smile grew sharper.

Charlie bit her lip. Took a deep breath, “As Princess of Hell, I demand that you release Alastor without killing him.”

Her voice didn’t quaver as much as it used to; in fact, it hardly did at all. Husk would’ve been lying if he’d said he wasn’t a little bit proud. Sucked that he was on the tail end of it this time.

Husk raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but Angel beat him to it. “Really? Afta’ everythin’ he’s done?”

Charlie sighed, though it almost sounded like a choked-back sob. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Angel remained silent after that, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Charlie.

“Well Princess, hate to break it to ya’,” Husk flared his wings, “but this one’s been given too many.”

With that, Husker summoned a card- the Joker- and slashed across the space of Alastor’s neck while still looking at the Princess of Hell. What would be sickening thud rang in his ears, though Husk could only find it in himself to smirk. Another thud followed it, though he felt the body hit the ground more than he heard it.

The Radio Demon was dead.

[nonbayanary]

ok but guys, consider: autistic hiruma

chewing gum all the time is one of hiruma’s stims.

he also loves pressure stimming, particularly when he’s sleeping in a brotherly puppy pile w/ kurita, cerberus, and musashi.

sometimes, hiruma lays prone on the floor. it’s his silent invitation to cerberus, telling the dog to lie on his back. and cerberus does so, curling up, with his head right between hiruma’s shoulder blades. and gradually, cerberus’ weight lulls hiruma to a peaceful sleep.

when hiruma types on his laptop, it’s loud. bcs he loves the audio stim of the keys clacking.

he likes drumming his fingers on the table as a stim. mostly bcs it’s also an intimidation tactic.

for years, hiruma analyzed how neurotypical ppl behave, which is why he’s so good at masking, and reading ppl’s tells. like he rlly worked hard, and put in so much effort into understanding the neurotypical mind.

which is why hiruma instantly knows when someone is neurodivergent, after interacting with them a few times.

when hiruma was younger, he chose one archetype of person to imitate, and stuck to it. it made masking all the more easier to do when ppl expected him to behave in some sort of way. and he chose the “devilish bad boy” vibes to give off, bcs it meant less ppl would expect him to adhere to social norms and niceties.

hiruma’s hyperfixated on five things: american football, blackmail, gambling, cybercrimes, and how to care for dogs. (the last one is his latest hyperfixation, after he practically adopted cerberus).

one of hiruma’s greatest investments is this: bluetooth earbuds. like, hiruma thinks bluetooth is one of humankind’s best inventions, especially since everything is just so fucking loud

hiruma’s mastered silence, to mask his auditory processing disorder. he’s also gotten used to lip reading, which has come in handy a lotta times. 

when someone says something, and it takes hiruma a little longer to process, he just eerily stares at the person to unsettle them. ppl think it’s an intimidation tactic—which, yes it is. but more importantly, hiruma uses the eeriness of his silence to process what he just heard bcs, “what did this fucker just say, my brain is still loading goddamit—”

hiruma prefers having a few close friends, as opposed to a lot of friends. bcs having a lot of friends is just so taxing, especially w all the social norms he has to adhere to.

most of the time, hiruma is touch-averse. especially to strangers. no one is allowed to fucking touch him, if it isn’t an in-game tackle. the only exceptions are his bros kurita, musashi, and cerberus.

when hiruma gets excited, he has trouble controlling the volume of his voice. especially his manic laughter. 

he fidgets with his guns a lot, bcs he likes the texture of the metal beneath his hands. normal ppl have fidget cubes, but hiruma has fidget guns.

a lot of the time, hiruma prefers poring over his laptop rather than eating with his team. that’s bcs he hates the texture of the food they’re eating. he would rather eat a bullet than feel the uncomfortable texture of that specific type of food on his tongue.

when hiruma’s hyperfocused, he doesn’t notice that hours have flown by, only until after he surfaces from the task at hand. most of the time, this means he stays awake into the ungodly hours of the night with his eyes glued onto his laptop screen.

hiruma usually wears the same outfits bcs he likes the texture of the cloth, and how they feel on his skin. since he usually wears plain, dark colors —mostly black — a lot of people don’t notice.

hiruma loves gum bcs he likes its texture against his tongue, and bcs he can fidget with it. 

hiruma has reduced pain sensitivity. which means he doesn’t feel pain as intensely as others. he’s pretty proud of this, as his high threshold for pain comes in useful when he plays american football.

hiruma’s high tolerance for pain helped him out a lot when he got his eyebrows tattooed. even though it did hurt like hell during the tattoo session, he knows it would have hurt like a motherfucking cuntass bitch if his threshold for pain were any lower.

when hiruma has meltdowns, he fucking goes all out with his artillery. which is what makes ppl all the more afraid to anger him, bcs when hiruma’s truly pissed off, he verges on actual homicide.

hiruma’s space is incredibly messy bcs he likes hoarding things, but he knows where each item is exactly placed. move anything, and he will put a gun to your head.

often, a lot of people think that hiruma seems to have an encyclopedic memory. but nah, hiruma just has an exceptional long term memory. when he zones out sometimes, he may not exactly remember what happened a few minutes ago. but he’s often able to remember events that took place years ago, in vivid detail.

hiruma is constantly monitoring his own voice and body language. but this takes a toll on him, since masking 24/7 is exhausting as fuck. luckily, he doesn’t have to mask around kurita, musashi, and cerberus.

solving puzzles stimulates his mind. and he applies this by seeing people as puzzles to analyze until he can solve the mystery of their behavior.

hiruma has insomnia. he has super loud alarms, and a lot of them, to ensure that he wakes up early. unfortunately, this means he’s usually in a shitty mood during mornings.

hiruma could give less of a shit about gender. so when hiruma’s going undercover to get information, he doesn’t mind wearing skirts, dresses, or wigs. fuck social norms and gender norms!!!

(yes, y’all can definitely use this prompt!!!  /gen)

[suiyuun-archive]

𝐓𝐎𝐏  𝟓  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. share  the  top  songs  in  your  playlist  that  most  inspire / represent  your  muses  the  most.    bonus  points  if  you  include  lyrics  to  go  along  with  it.

01. 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 - 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒

Trouble, blood is in the rocky waters. Hide away your sons and daughters. Eat you alive. Levels. Better put your head on swivels. Dancing with the very devil; butter to knife. You think you're better than them, better than them. You think they're really your friends really your friends - but when it comes to the end (to the end) you're just the same as them (same as them). So let it go, let it go... That's the way that it goes. First you're in, then you're out. Everybody knows. You're hot, then you're cold. You're a light in the dark. Just you wait and you'll see - that you're swimmin' with sharks.

02. 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 - 𝐉𝐀𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍     (𝗯𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼)

Flip the switch, flip the stove, world gone mad, let's start the show. Get your kicks and let's go. If you're sad, don't let it show. Say I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy today - I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy today. They say put on a happy face. 'Cause we're tick-tock, tick-tock - ticking like a timebomb. Hey, put on a happy face, then everything's okay. Put on a happy face. Hey, put on a happy face, then everything's okay. Put on a happy face.

03. 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 - 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

You'll pick somewhere that's private, where you and I can really speak. Go ahead and tell me something - that you learned in therapy. And it's almost convincing (it's almost convincing), but I've been known to go against my instincts. And I know you're performing, but it's working for me (we can talk about it in the morning). Baby, you're a bad idea, but I could do a few more years, I've got a little left in here, funny how you reappear - in the nick of time, I guess it didn't die. Can't say we didn't try, baby, we're a bad idea... fuck it, let's do it again.

04. 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 - 𝐁𝐄𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀

Today went really well, I didn't wake up in a panic spell. It was fine, even though I fell - deeper and deeper into manic hell. Whoa, I'm living and I'm dreaming, trying to stay even, oh. Whoa, I'm draining for no reason - apologize, no feelings, oh. No, I don't need your help... to make me sick, to make me ill. I don't need anybody else, 'cause I can break my heart myself. I don't need your help - getting off of this carousel. I don't need anybody else - 'cause I can break my heart myself.

05. 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐃 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time - and turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach. Another clever word sets off an unsuspecting herd, and as you step back into line, a mob jumps to their feet. Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance... And no one even knew it was really only you. And now you steal away, take him out today. Nice work you did. You're gonna go far, kid. With a thousand lies and a good disguise - hit 'em right between the eyes, hit 'em right between the eyes. When you walk away, nothing more to say - see the lightning in your eyes, see 'em running for their lives.

source: @erabundus​ (i'm a thief) tagging: you, reading this. seriously. do it.

[the-adventures-of-john-and-timmy]

Below is a writing based on this comic

It was a normal day -with no shortness of horror John realized, a day with Timmy’s fingers stuck up his nose was indeed normal to him now- that the call came in.

“Unmarked ship calling,” Razh called out as he put the projection up on the big screen.

The anonymous icon fizzled away a muscular gray figure with pink hair and-

Clock eyes.

Or rather, clock eye. Somehow this klykolian was sporting a rather vicious scar over his right eye.

Silently everyone’s attention turned to the caller. Even Timmy paused his John tormenting to pay attention, a very clear indicator of the severity of the situation.

“Attention Mr. The Dealer and associated crew members,” he read from a piece of paper in a voice drowning in boredom. “By will of his Majesty Geserazichtnacht The Fourth - Which must be respected by intergalactic law under section 413 - you are hereby to surrender Tilimilinikitala Geserazichtnacht into the custody of the klykolian and Royal family. If you should surrender -“

The strangers droning was abruptly cut off by Elns barking and bitter laugh. “If you were looking for a surrender you have the wrong crew! This crazy mother fucker would sooner chop off his own face than let something like surrender taint his reputation!” He gestures to The Dealer who was suddenly standing very close to Razh and not at all listening to Eln

The bored and mildly professional expression of the caller vanished at his words, twisting into manic glee. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Suddenly they were missing a wall.

The caller was now the intruder and Timmy’s hands were very tight on John’s shoulders.

“All this legal shit is so boring! I mean U.G.A. really just had to suck the fun out of everything. Plus you’ve seen their police force, they’re not even GOOD at enforcing their bullshit rules.” He stepped through his impromptu door with the same audacious casualty as a trust fund baby who knew he could do no wrong in his parents eyes. “But Kyle insisted, ‘you have to at least pretend to follow the rules’,” he mocked. “But now that that’s out of the way, who wants to get their ass kicked first? Awe who and I kidding, I can take all of you at once!”

“There’s no need for that,” The Dealers voice sounded through the room with a commanding but conversational tone. For once Monroe was not by his side. “The way I see it we have something you want and you have something we want. So how about a deal?”

The stranger faced The Dealer with a viciously smug look. A yawn overtook him right as Monroe’s shank severed his brain stem.

“Awe that’s cute, you’ve done your homework.” He chidded. In a blink Monroe’s body had been kicked through a different portion of the wall. In the next moment Razh activated the ships self defense and bullets rained down on the intruder. He faked another yawn, his bullet holes closing up as fast as he was getting them. “Really? Bullets? Not even lasers? How old school.”

He lunged faster than anyone could keep up with and punched a hole straight through Razh screen. In the same beat Eln pierced his skin, injecting him with a poison that he immediately vomited up onto Elns eye. The parasite ran away, and the dealer was nowhere to be found.

John stood petrified. Even if he wanted to run, Timmy’s grip on him was too tight.

The formidable stranger turned to them. Well, he turns towards Timmy, at this point John still seemed to be invisible to him. ”TilTil,” he said overly casually. It was a shortening of Timmy‘s name but John‘s translator picked up on it as meaning little little, connotatively associated with familiarity. “I can’t believe you ditched us for these losers. I mean, They’re so fragile it’s not even funny!” He swaggered over and before John even had the chance to think about running away a portal opened up underneath his feet and a flash blue green light he was standing next to The Dealer.

The Dealer stood in front of one of the control panels on the ship, a control panel gave him access to the coupling units of the ship. Next to him was a piece of paper with numbers hastily scratched into it. He was calculating the damage that had been done to the ship thus far. if it got to a certain point he would completely detached that section of the ship and let it resume the rest of its life as space trash. But for now, not wanting to be wasteful, he stood in front of a screen displaying the security footage of the room with the 2 klykolians in it and simply watched.

“Awe don’t want me touching your toy? Come on, you know I wouldn’t give it back!” He laughed viciously at his own joke. It was obvious he’d been close with Timmy before, but how? John thought he’d remembered someone saying Timmy showed up as a child, and no one recognized this new klykolian.

“Hey- hey! Remember that time-“ he continued only to be interrupted by Timmy bursting out laughing “yeeaah, I didn’t finish.” Timmy lobbed a wrench at his head.

Suddenly Timmy lunged at him, driving his shoulder into the other's gut. The stranger managed to hook his knee around Timmy’s leg and jerk him off balance enough to shove them to the ground. Timmy rolled away before he could get pinned, hopping up just enough to fall back down elbow first. Strangers stopped it with a grab and slammed their foreheads together.

Blood spurted from both of them and they laughed.

“I forgot I like to fight you!” Timmy noted.

“First of all, how dare you. Just cause Big-B banned us from throwing hands doesn’t mean you care forget how cool I am! Second of all since when did you get this big and strong? I mean seriously no one would guess I’m the older brother here.”

Oh that explains it.

The two klykolians stood casually in front of each other. The pink one attempted a secret handshake that either Timmy didn’t know or was purposely sabotaging. The whole thing fizzled out rather pathetically.

“So hey man, come back home.”

Timmy grinned ear to ear, like he’d found a long lost best friend, before flipping him off. “Go fuck yourself ♥️”

“… how did you do that with your mouth? Anyway it doesn’t matter, you have to come back. So like either-“

A portal opened up and the scorching flames of a nearby sun came blasting through onto the brother and the ceiling. The Dealer scratched down another number.

“Hey man portals are cheating and you know it! Stop copying me! Ugh I forgot how annoying you are!”

“Hey man portals are cheating and you know it! Stop copying me! Ugh I forgot how annoying you are!”

Timmy spoke in the exact same time and cadence as is brother only switching it up at the end to screech bloody murder and start laughing again.

Through the camera footage John noticed the floating eye balls were back. Truly he didn’t understand why the ship would need both Razh’s cameras and Elns extra eyes to keep track of stuff, but it was a big ship and they did fight a lot.

“Hey I have an idea!” Timmy shouted

“Oh lord have mercy,”

“Stay here. We get to fight stuff all the time here. Go lots of places, see many stuff and also things. Plus every once in a while Elns experiments will go wrong and a toxic gas will leak though the ship causing us to all have a near death experience!”

“Wow hard sell. Now you hear me out,” his brother ripped one of the exposed steal beams out off the wall. “You get on my ship. You stop playing around with these paper dolls, and put your ass back in the palace where it fucking belongs. You’re technically the fucking heir and yet your running around like a pyromaniatic headless chicken, you’re making the rest of us fucking look bad!!” A portal opened up next to him and before anything could pop out of it he gavalined the pipe through Timmy’s eye.

Timmy screamed. The other dashed forward with a roundhouse kick that never landed. Timmy ripped the pipe out of his eye and managed to use it to cut the other leg off. The leg had regenerated by the time he planted his foot for the punch that knocked a hole in Timmy’s chest. Rather than try and dislodge the arm Timmy shoves into it, grabbing his brother's head and biting his face off.

Suddenly there were crabs. A portal above them rains alien crustaceans. The brother ripped his own arm out to try and tear the pinching claws off his freshly regenerated face, while Timmy grabbed a low hanging macro cable and jump kicked both of his feet into the other's chest. A crab was thrown at Timmy, he swallowed it whole.

The stranger kicked a hunk of wall, knocking Timmy’s feet out from underneath him. Another hunk of wall was lobbed at his head as he used a portal to cut the giant cables and send them swinging down on his brother.

The brother burst out of the pile of cables like a raging bull chanting for timmy only to get smacked by a projectile flip flop. Half a second later Timmy jumped over him, slipping someone's shirt over his eyes and sending ocean water pouring down on his head. Even blind the brother still managed to kick timmy into a nearby table.

“AUGH ENOUGH!” The pink haired stranger ripped the stray shirt off his face and clutched his head. “I forgot how Nauseating it is to be around your unpredictable ass!! Only five seconds of future vision and there’s a million possibilities around you!” The table was thrown at him and he effortlessly lobbed it back at Timmy’s head.

“Fight me more!” Timmy shouted.

“Eat glass you psycho!”

“Kids choice awards!”

“What the fuck does that-“ green slime suddenly drenched the intruder. “You know what. I’m done. I’ve been chasing your ass for half a century what’s a couple more days. I’m gonna kick your ass so hard the next time I see you.” And just like that the stranger plodded away like an extremely grumpy bipedal snail.

A few moments of silence passed and Timmy log rolled across the flood and began licking the residual slime.

“Hey Timmy?” Razh’s voice sounded gently from the overhead speakers. “Who was that?”

“Oh that was my brother Mark! We’ve been playing tag for a while now. He's just really slow. I guess that means I’m it now,” he shrugged and picked up a stray crab to rub in the slime.

As per usual Timmy’s answer revealed nothing and left them with more questions than they’d started with.

[erinomeumbriel]

Chapter 1

-

“Blyat, I did it again!” A woman in her early 20s yelped in distress, another mistake was made again within the last 30 minutes, as she accidentally knocked out a pile of paperworks by her office table, this was the fifth time she did comprising the mentioned time, one that kept happening due the way her desk is full of other business that she needed to do. Absolutely, she’s stressed to the boot and yet, she can’t complain when she knows that the job she chose wasn’t that of an easy-going one. There’s a lot to do, and it doesn't help matters when she’s feeling so stressed and annoyed by the unfortunate happenings that seem to be targeted towards her and her only.

Y/n could only scowl and lean down from her seat to collect the papers that fell, did she absolutely want to rip it apart, every time she went through pages and pages her resentment grew and grew more to the point she had to take a deep breath to stop herself from going berserk. She almost slammed the papers back to her desk the moment she was finished, instead she decided to focus on the dossier at hand so she can finally move on to the other ones. However, before she could even lay her eyes on it, someone knocked at her office.

It’s either someone who just wants a chat or another work incoming. Y/n prayed to heavenly deities that it was not the case.

“Who is it?” She slumped in her swivel chair. This time she’s adamant that fate doesn’t want her to finish her work and this time too, she’s given up on trying. Mental health is important, that’s her work’s motto, but fate sure is determined to deplete Y/n’s sanity little by little.

"It's me, Mario." A gruff voice said,muffled by the door that's between him and Y/n. She slumped further but fixed herself to make herself presentable in front of the higher up. Despite knowing that it is indeed another work incoming, she can't exactly sulk. That would cause her superiors to be disappointed, or worse, fire her. Yes, they're indeed petty, like everyone else.

"Ah Sir Mario, the door's open." Y/n answered after mentally and physically preparing herself. Like the professional person she is, she turned on her business smile, one that she mastered for over the years she worked under the Security unit. It was fake but real and polite enough in the eyes of the receiver, one that covers her irritation and shows none other than customer service attitude.

It works every time.

A black-haired, tall man in his 40s entered, wearing the similar white coat Y/n is wearing but instead of wearing formal suits, he has blue medical scrubs on. He must've just finished a job, probably another patient going into a manic state. She has that theory seeing the scary Red liquid staining his coat, must’ve been a violent one. It happens like a cycle and Y/n is thankful that her job doesn't require capturing and tranquilizing poor patients. If she was in the job, she would've been sent to the ground in a minute and cry her eyes out. Sometimes she wonders why she even considered working in a building full of psychos and violent people. Some aren’t that bad as they’re just depressed suffering people but the others, not that saintly. But does she really have a choice considering that there’s not many places that offer such a generous salary?

"Another patient?" Y/n asked, talking about the scratches in his arms and Mario grunted, meaning yes. Of course, he was grumpy. Now Y/n thinks that her misfortune is nothing compared to this man's. Mario had a portfolio in his hand, another delivery from the higher ups. Geez, if they want to give work, why don't they give it to her personally instead of making poor, tired Mario deliver it to her?

"Got set off by another crazy fucker, then boom, he started to go hysterical and throw food trays. When we tried to calm him down, he pulled a fork out of nowhere and stabbed a security guard in his hand." Now that's a lot of mess and now that’s where the blood came from. Yikes. She winced just thinking about how messy the cafeteria was and how chaotic and hard it would be to tranquilize the man. And before Y/n can ask another question, Mario almost placed the folder on the table when his eyes landed on the piles of dossiers. With that, he raised his eyebrows and looked a bit reluctant to even put down the paper in the never-ending pile. Y/n appreciated the action and pity.

“Are you finished with work?” Mario asked reluctantly, eyeing the tiredness in her actions and the way her office table was almost filled to the brim, the stacks threatening to fall with just one flick. One more paper added to the pile and it would fall over. Y/n, ever the typical tired worker she is, didn’t have the courage to raise her eyebrow and say something sarcastic to the man. Obviously she isn’t finished, she hasn’t finished even thirds of it, but she decided that she is for today. It’s late and she would need to go home soon, so even if she fastened her pace it wouldn't be finished either way. She didn’t want to spend the night here either, someone might break in despite the tight security. It’s just her being paranoid but it’s better than nothing.

After much deliberation, she finally answered.

“Well, no but yes.” Mario didn’t bother questioning her vague response, knowing it's just the way she was. He shrugged. If he heard the word yes, then it's a yes. And thus he finally handed the files to Y/n, who slightly slumped at the sight of the portfolio. There goes another, another work added in the pile. Thankfully, there are no patients assigned for today or they would see how much of a stressed shitpile their psychiatrist really is. Y/n took the thick brown folder, already knowing it's a new patient assigned to her and a new problematic patient in the secure unit.

“This is directly from the higher ups. It seems like a high profile one this time.” Mario supplied as Y/n opened the portfolio with much curiosity. If it’s directly from them then she has no choice but to agree, things like this rarely come by. However she can’t help but feel scared as to what kind of person this upcoming patient is.

Immediately, her eyes gravitated towards the 1x1 picture at the top left side corner of the first page. To be frank, he doesn’t seem to be the type of guy to be admitted to such a place as a Secure unit. He just..looks a bit too clean and young, despite the fact Y/n saw some who are far too young and look a bit too innocent for their crimes. Her job doesn’t require prejudice and despite encountering so many unexpected people, she just couldn’t help it. His features weren't that of a man who is capable of the reason for admission written in his papers.

He has a Chocolate colored hair, Y/n feels dumb using that kind of comparison. However when she looked at his eyes properly, she reconsidered the innocent impression she had of him. His eyes can be compared to the color of a Red Tamarillo, empty and extremely flat, just looks lifeless and devoid of emotion. And his entire face, no matter how handsome he is, Y/n takes notes, there’s just no trace of emotion, just stoicness and nothing else. He gives absolutely nothing away with his nonexistent expression.

Y/n continued to read through his file. He’s currently in College and is intelligent as listed in his additional achievements. She's right he doesn’t seem to be the type of person to commit crimes but a lot of narcissists proved her wrong already. She continued reading through and she sucked a heavy breath in, it got her furrowing her eyebrow in confusion.

“Why isn’t he in jail?” Y/n questioned and Mario shrugged, “1st degree murder isn’t something to be taken lightly off.” She continued. Contrary to his appearance, this patient is ruthless, written in his reason for admission, he killed an assistant teacher in the college he attends. She was dismembered and had 100 stab wounds. The reason of death was blood loss and a fatal wound to the throat, there could be a possibility that the victim was alive during the dismemberment, Y/n prayed that the poor soul wasn’t.

“He has Alexithymia.” Mario supplied, Y/n was about to retort when Mario raised his arm to signal her to stop talking as he’s not finished yet, “I know, it’s not a mental illness and not enough to get you admitted here.” Mario spoke and heaved a sigh, taking the file and flipped it to a certain page before giving it back to her.

“But his lawyer pleaded insanity, what’s more crazy was that the judge and juries agreed to this.” Mario said while Y/n read through, immediately she saw the reason for this unfair trial, “His family is very wealthy and paid the entire court. So his appeal was sustained and given a very short sentence of 2 to 4 years of mandatory treatment at a mental hospital.”

“I’m guessing they paid the higher ups too. Considering it’s a direct order from them.” Y/n said and Mario nodded, “Their minds got muddled in the face of money huh.”

“Yes, and you have to accept this guy.” Mario said, waving his hand. Obviously, he was numb already when it comes to justice, most of the prisoners here are the reason. This new guy isn’t spared as an example either. In a place like this, there’s no hope for justice Y/n supposed.

“I’m not planning to, he’s going to be my last patient. Besides, the pay is good.” Y/n answered and Mario smiled and shook his head. That’s true, she’s planning to leave and take on another job that’s less mentally taxing and besides, she needs that money.

“And you said those lawyers and judges are money addicted.” Mario jokingly grumbled,clicking his tongue. But Y/n despite knowing it’s already a joke responded.

“There’s a difference! I’m doing my job while those men are being corrupt, two different shit.” She reasoned, crossing her arm. In her mind, she’s already planning treatments and how to talk with a killer she finds just reading about. It’s going to be hard with his lack of understanding of emotions so immediately making him feel guilty about his crime is going to be hard, but she doubts she needs to do that. She’ll be retired by the time this guy finishes his sentence either way. Though it’s a direct order from the upper ups so she at least needs to make an effort.

“Besides it’s a win-win situation, he has no real mental illness so I don’t have to do much. Just maybe, try to help him through his Alexithymia even if has no real treatment.” Y/n rambled on, considering the whole ordeal as easy money despite her fear. If the patient ever does something, there’s security just outside her door to protect her, no need to feel scared, yes.

“Try talking him out of his murderous thoughts too by the way, we can’t have him going out to kill again.” Mario added and Y/n nodded, this time determined.

“Of course! That’s already a given.”

“Your patient arrives by tomorrow, make sure to read the papers by then.” Mario stood up from his seat, which y/n never noticed he did, probably too preoccupied in thinking. Then he gestured to the piles of papers, making her panic because she needs to clean up first before taking a patient, “Oh also, make sure to clean your office or the guy will think you’re not worthy of a psychiatrist. You might lose the money, early graduate.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Y/n felt flattered everytime hearing that nickname, it was true that she’s an early graduate who was one of the youngest in their city to do so. Psychiatry needed 10 years or so of studying and so the average age of psychiatrists were that of 30, she’s one of the lucky ones to be in their 20s in the age of being licensed. She takes pride in her achievement.

“Goodluck.” Mario bid goodbye and soon Y/n was left in her own office. She leaned on her chair and sighed.

‘Evander Bonavich.’ That was his name. Evander will be her last patient.

“Oh! I still need to fix these!” In the end, she needed to post pawn work to clean her office and be appropriate for the future patient tomorrow.

-

[lostlimerence]

“It’s happened. I’m batshit.”

“No listen…”

“I’m crazy,”

“Stop..”

“Finally lost it..”

“Sunshine, please just wai…”

“Eds please stop pacing for a second.”

“Stop pacing?! I don’t know if you’ve noticed but California’s stopped working Stevie?!”

“I know, I know! I’m trying to think, your manic energy isn’t helping!”

“My manic energy?!” his voice hitches up an octave as he gasps, feigning hurt, he stops pacing and crouches down to gently wave a hand in-front of Billy’s face. The blonde clocks him, gives him a little dopey smile and whispers “ hey Eds, it’s finally happened I’ve gone insane,” Eddie smiles back at him, gives him a little pat on the head before standing back up and turning to Steve “yep, broken.”

Steve frowns, “he’s in shock Eddie, remember how you were when you first came across…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie flaps a hand, as if trying to waft away the memory. Steve walks over, giving Eddie’s arm a little squeeze as he goes to crouch in-front of Billy “hey baby,” he whispers gently “we really need you to get up,” Billy chuckles and reaches out to stroke Steve’s cheek “hey Stevie! Guess what, I’m finally in the madhouse, don’t worry though Munson’s in here with me!”

Eddie gawks “what did he say?!”

Steve laughs a little “you heard him Eds, looks like you’re an inmate too, I’m just a visitor,” he pushes back up and takes in the scene.

Billy cross-legged on the forrest floor, Eddie wide-eyed and restless glancing between their seemingly catatonic boyfriend and the lifeless demodog that lies a few feet away from them.

Eddie chews at the corner of his thumb nail, stares at Billy and says “we probably should’ve told him about this sooner…”

“I mean yeah no shit Eds, it’s not like we haven’t tried, it’s just, you know a little hard to bring up…”Steve trails off on a sigh as he strolls over to the body, looks down at its grotesque meaty flesh and grimaces “we need to get rid of this.”

Eddie hmmms his agreement as he goes to stand next to Billy, placing a protective hand atop of his golden curls. “Ugh we have no spade, no bat, no nothing, arghh we should’ve brought the beamer, it comes equipped with all the monster battling shit we need!” Steve nods, fists his hand in his hair as he thinks.

“Ok, maybe if you wait here, while I….”

“Nope, nuh-uh, not happening baby! What am I supposed to do if another one comes?! How am I supposed to protect our beautiful, but quite frankly currently useless, boy down there if another one comes?! What if they’re like wasps and this dead fucker is like emanating a stink that says avenge me avenge me! Oh gods Stevie what if this thing is….”

“Stop! Yeah, yes I get it, I get it bad idea, bad idea, we can’t just leave it here though…” Steve looks at Eddie, glances down at Billy “we’re gonna have to put it in the Camaro.”

Billy’s head snaps up “No way.”

Eddie gasps hand flying to his mouth like some offended Victorian lady “really sunshine?!! You finally come back to us and it’s for that stupid car?!?”

Billy cocks a brow, rises to his feet dusting off his jeans “it’s my baby,” he says completely serious, Eddie, if it’s possible, looks even more offended “I though WE were your babies,” he shouts frantically waving his arm between himself and Steve.

Steve presses his thumb and fore-finger to the bridge of his nose, inhales, exhales, ignores Eddie’s theatrics and turns to Billy “we’re putting it in the Camaro.”

Billy looks him dead in the eye and squares his stance “not happening pretty boy.”

….

Billy stares at the demowhatevers body in the trunk of his Camaro.

His eye twitches slightly. Eddie pats his shoulder “close her up California, it’s time to hit the road,” he flashes him a steady grin. Billy slams the trunk, climbs into the passenger seat and thinks about how calm Eddie and Steve are.

“So errr, what the fuck?” he says raising his brow glancing between Steve, who is driving and Eddie who’s leaning forwards in the middle of the backseat.

Steve catches Eddie’s eye in the rear view mirror and that’s all the musician needs before he’s off describing demogorgons, spider monsters, mindflayers, and some place called the upside down to a frankly astounded Billy.

He takes it in, tries to place it in his reality, fails to do so repeatedly, but then he remembers the stinking corpse in his trunk and he knows this isn’t Eddie’s wonderful, yet overactive, imagination. It’s real, concrete, they have the body of a demodog in the trunk of the car and they’re going to put it in a fucking freezer until they can bury it, not only that but Steve has done this once before.

He has too many questions, so he asks none of them and instead opts to zone out for the rest of the journey. Tries to let his mind process the immense amount of information he’s been given in peace, mumbles a promise to Eddie that he’s not going to ‘go catatonic’ again when the man starts voicing his concern.

….

Later he lies in bed staring at the ceiling, Eddie mumbles one last sleepy gripe in his ear, something about him loving the Camaro more than them, he just chuckles and presses a kiss to the side of the man’s head as he drifts off to sleep.

On his other side Steve, whose head is settled on his chest, whispers “you ok baby? I know, I know this is a lot to take in…” Billy takes a deep breath and mumbles softly “yeah it is, but don’t worry about it sweetheart, it’s fucked sure, but I’m an expert at fucked up situations, this is just another one, gotta roll with the punches right?” Steve snorts quietly “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“It’s the only way of looking at it pretty boy,” Billy smiles up at the ceiling, feels his eyes drooping with sleep, whispers “goodnight,” hears Steve say it back.

It’s been a long-ass day and they need their sleep, besides they have a demodog to bury in the morning.

[the-archxr]

Could I get HC's for the boys with a s/o who has like, cartoon physics? I've always thought that would be my power if I had powers. If this doesn't make sense think of spiderham from the spider verse movie

I was having a little bit of a hard time writing this, so hopefully I did this to your liking??

STEVEN

so I feel like the first time you use your powers, Steven, the sweetheart, Grant would lose his fucking shit.

and the funny thing is, I know for sure you’d just be pulling on your boys’ leg the whole time by acting as though you don’t have superpowers.

think mary poppins whenever she does something magical, and then the kids ask her about it, and she just sits there, pretending she doesn’t know what they’re taking about.

thats what you do to all three of them.

steven gets the most annoyed by it because obviously he can see all this weird, unexplainable shit happening with you, but you just keep playing dumb.

(He’s definitely trying to record you at all times just in case something weird happens again.)

MARC

with marc, I feel as though he wouldn’t realize you had powers until one night when you’re both fighting this guy in an empty parking lot.

so let’s just say he gets knocked off his feet for a second, and then this random fucker takes the opportunity to just body slam you into a nearby car.

and Marc? obviously Marc just gets so very angry because nobody fucking touches his baby, but he’s also exceptionally worried because good god you might be hurt.

and he can’t cope with the possibility of you being hurt in any way.

but then, as though nothing happened, you just pop back up without so much as a scratch on you.

he confronts you about it later that night, about how you’re seemingly perfectly fine after what happened.

and your response, the only one you offer him, is a small smirk as you say “guess he just didn’t hit me right”.

JAKE

of course though, Jake ends up being the one who actually gets proof.

so with the research I did regarding cartoon physics, I read that having it as a superpower means you can also pull shit out of thin air.

so when Jake says he needs a coffee cup cause the rest are in the dishwasher, you pull one out from behind your back only to find that the entire time he was watching you—and recording you.

over the next hour and a half, you end up explaining everything, and I mean, everything to him.

all while steven laughs manically in the mirror because he knew he was fucking right.

✨the-archxr headcanons✨

[igotathingforvampires]

Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

——

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

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

——

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

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

———

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

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

———

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

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

———

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

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

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

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

[wolviecore]

An AU where Archie's a ruthless villain who hates the Southside and FP, because FP left him, Fred, and Jug behind (let's say Fredsythe was married in this AU, but Gladys somehow convinced FP to leave his family in Riverdale for Toledo or smthg) and not only is his baby brother in love with a tall, beast of a boy southie fucker, but Moose, one of his closest friends, is also in a secret relationship with the tall fucker's best friend.

LIKE. ARCHIE IS A BOY, RIGHT? A bully, sure. It seems harmless (it's not. Reggie being forced into exile, having to give up his jacket and spot on the team, and shunned away to eat by the dumpsters, is not harmless.

Archie breaking into biology class with his posey in tow after the serpents transfer, that too wide, too friendly smile plastered on his cruelly handsome face staring at the three kids sitting tight in their chairs as dead snakes, stabbed, gutted, skinned, get thrown at their dissection trays , isn't harmless. It's a war declaration. One that no one takes seriously enough.)

Archie gains control over the school young; He's bigger than the other kids. Bigger, badder, meaner. Has a sharp mind, too cutting for someone so small, with enough knowledge to disguise it as innocence when he needs to.

"Fear and respect sleep together, you know, " he whispers to Cheryl. Bitchy, icy, insecurity filled Cheryl, on their first day of junior year, no Jason at her side. He must be hand in hand with Polly Cooper somewhere, and he's willing to bet his guitar it bothers the girl to the bone. "Stick with me. We're gonna run this nothing town."

Archie fits just right with the bulldogs; He wants to lead, not follow, thought. And Cheryl grows fangs of her own.

And they do; Unknown to Jughead, the only person besides his father Archie has love for, they do, and their rule is a glorious and brutal one.

Then Cheryl meets the tiny serpent girl with too much nerve to be considered smart. And things... Change.

"What do you mean I didn't make the team?! I was the best one there! "

She was. She was, and that's what makes Cheryl's skin crawl. "Evidently, we possess anonymous viewpoints of what 'best' means."

"... You're afraid of him, aren't you? Cheryl fucking Blossom, scared of one man."

Cheryl tenses, crimson lips tight. "Everyone is scared of Archie. But not me. This is not about fear,- I cried, and begged, and bled for this team. It happens to be the one thing in my life I have a pinch of control over. I won't endanger that just because of pretty Southside trailer trash not realizing she's aiming too her for such a laughable stature."

" ... You think I'm pretty?"

Cheryl doesn't dignify that with a response.

Unsurprisingly, Sweet Pea has a lot to say. "Northsiders are trouble. Falling for them is stupid, and we don't do stupid," the scowl on his face vanishes within minutes, as soon as he smiles and waves back to the dark haired boy following Cooper to the B&G. "What?"

Sweet Pea, who's torch of hatred he carries for Andrews burns so bright it could blind the sky, fell in love with his enemies' younger brother.

SP HAS NO IDEA WHAT TO DO, he envisioned a mini Archie; A spoiled, rotten little north side brat who acts like he owns the room. So he rehearsed, prepared himself to hear Andrews' voice from a different mouth when they first got paired up for a project.

But Jug is nothing like his big brother, from the dark of that fluffy, bouncy bed hair to his lithe stature, the elegant bed of his neck when he wanted to look Sweet Pea in the eye. He didn't have hazel eyes hiding hell in them, or a shark grin that raised hair from everywhere on the body.

No, - the boy is all small but scrappy, soft, dainty, if he dared used that word. He's got bright Bambi eyes, layered with a faint blue that steals the air from SP's lungs, and if given the opportunity, he won't ever shut up about those precious bunny teeth.

The fact that he has to keep the boy in the dark about Archie's cruelties cracks his heart. He doesn't know why. It just does. Maybe its because he understands hero worship. Maybe he's not ready for the other option.

Fangs and Moose, thought. Fangs and Moose break my heart.

They're young, and they're revounous for eachother, more than food or air. Fangs is hungry for the gentle eyed bulldog who towers over Archie but still bends down to get his hair ruffled, the only one there besides Sweet Pea's boy who doesn't sneer or looks with hatred.

Moose represses; Is what he knows. But the drumming in his chest when Fangs brushes hands with him in the crammed hallways refuses to be silenced, and the dryness in his mouth at every stolen glance and secret late night kisses won't be parched.

Its not enough. This is not the kind of love you can walk away from. So Moose doesn't.

The bulldogs have an exile ritual; Public. Ruthless. Stripping you of power, of humanity, of everything that makes you whole. It's a brutal spectacle, one that everyone must attend.

Cheryl makes sure Jughead doesn't. Sweet Pea makes sure FP does.

Moose, actual sunshine baby, with tears of heartache washing over his face, pushing his letterman jacket into Archie's chest. The redhead is stoned face, but his eyes are large, incredulous. Pleading, almost.

"You're either going to kill someone, or kill yourself, Arch. I don't want to be there to see it."

Archie's hand travels from its desperate grip on his friend's, - one of his BEST friend's,- wrist to fist Moose's hair. The strength is vulnerable. There's despair behind it.

"This is about the Southside. You're picking them over us," he whispers, pained. "You're picking that southie over me."

The taller between them gulps, teardrops slipping down his raised chin, proud, defiant. "... Yeah."

Archie framing Moose's face between his hands, steeling himself against the gentle pain in Moose's eyes, exploding at the violent tenderness in his captain's hold. "Your name will dissappear. Your worth will dissappear. And I want you to remember that I gave you a chance to walk away. You're dead at 10 pm."

Moose knows; He knows pain, and fear, and Fangs is worth all of them. That's the mantra echoing, when he arrows through the sea of students, all of them gazing downward.

GOD- ARCHIE. ARCHIE SLOWLY STAUNTERING IN MOOSE'S DIRECTION. LIKE IN THAT BULLDOGS VS SERPENTS FIGHT. "Come back," he's whispering. Hes begging, a quiet plea, a silent curse. "I'll forget about this. Come back to us. Please."

Moose's eyes find Fang's. Even drowned in sorrow, even cracked with raw pain, they're beautiful. His lips mouth 'I love you.'

"Do what you came here to do. It won't change my heart. Or my mind."

holy shit when Archie looks over at a SHATTERED Fangs, held back by Sweet Pea and Toni, his stomach coil in such a dark hatred, such a poisonous anger- he pours it all in the punch to Moose's jaw.

"You're gonna cry, hmm?" Archie growls, animalistic, more hell then boy, dishing thundering slaps to Moose in between his hisses."You gonna cry Moose, huh? Cry a bit. Cry for your fucking snake friend and his southie family."

FP BEING THERE- WATCHING HIS SON, HIS OLDSEST, THE SON HE LOVES SO MUCH, DO... THAT. AS a father, he's destroyed.

As a leader, he just. Watches Fangs, pure, good, strong, RIGHT Fangs, cling to Sweet Pea, fingers hooked so tightly into his best friends' jacket they pale. He yells ' they're killing him, sweet pea let me GO they're killing him, stop, STOP-' and FP realizes. On some degree, a bitter one, Tall Boy's words rang true.

At some point, they will have to hit back.

At the end of the ritual, Archie grips Moose's hair, fingers digging into his loose jaw. His friend is limp in his hands, probably unconscious, probably passed out.

He holds this maimed version of Moose, more corpse than boy, towards Fangs. He's so hateful. He knows, because Sweet Pea's disdain stares right back. " LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! YOU DID THIS," he laughs, a sad, hollow sound, bordering on manic. Half madness, half sob. "YOU DID THIS. NOT ME! NOT ANY OF US. YOU."

"THIS," He whips around, Moose swining in sort, making majority of them cringe in disgust, in unsettlment. They're terrified. Good. " IS WHAT THEY DO! THIS IS WHAT YOU'LL BECOME, IF YOU MIX WITH THEM!"

At the very end, Moose drops, but he's strong. He's so strong. He stays on his knees for it, not down. His face is drenched in blood and brushes and cuts, and he won't stand down.

Someone hesitantly hands the redhead a baseball bat, which he grabs, eager to end this, eager to leave. Archie hates the whole world.

"You can live up here with us," he can't tell if the wetness sliding down his cheek is rain or tears. Can't distinguish the wail of pain from Fangr or Reggie, as the bat leaves a punishing kiss on Moose's right cheek, putting him down for good. "Or die down there, like them."

In conclusion, I'm crying.

[childish-omens]

where: wherever you’d like bb

who: Nik and open (preferably a fellow Order member or Auror)

“Here’s an idea,” Nik set his drink down and leaned forward in his seat. He had a bit of a manic glint in his eyes, and he kept using his hands very expressively as he spoke.

“I’ve been tracking these fuckers’ movements for months. I think I can anticipate their next move.”

There was an abandoned game of Wizards Chess on the table between them. He reached forward to move all the black chess pieces on the board into one little cluster. Then, he moved the white queen towards them.

“I sneak up on the buggers. Yes, I’m the Queen in this scenario - she’s the most powerful chess piece. Shut up.

“Anyway!” he continued, tapping his finger against the board as if to emphasise what he was saying, “They’re all in one place, and then - boom! I blow ‘em up. Easy.”

He leaned back in his seat with a little bit of a smug, self-satisfied look.

“Now, mate, I know what you’re gonna say,” he adopted a nasally, mocking tone, “If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same!

“But if I’m killing, like... several, that little equation doesn’t really work out, does it?” He tapped the side of his head and raised his eyebrows. “Think about it.”

[hummanbirb]

The Final Objective: HCCW AU

TW: SUCIDE AND PANIC ATTACKS.

“It’s over Deku!”

“I know, Katsuki.”

He hasn’t called him Kachan since this began.

 Kirishima was the first to go. He knows that the only reason he was targeted first was because of him.

Kaminari was next. Not to die or be put out of commission, but as a traitor. He took down Iida with him.

Sero was found wrapped in his own tape. Hanging off the edge of the building, a threat hanging from his neck. When did Deku learn how to tie a noose?

Uraraka was still there, her and Todoroki taken hard by the loss of Iida and the betrayal from Deku.

They were out raiding the villain base while he went after Deku, who was hiding on the roof of some empty school. All the buildings were empty. This was a war after all.

Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when Deku blew half the city up.

The thought makes his hand itch, the familiar flex of his arms as he clenched his hands awaiting the satisfaction of the pop and crackles from his sweat soaked palms.

He couldn’t feel it.

“Why can’t I use my quirk!?”

He was still turned away from, but Bakugou could still tell what he was saying. His shoulders were back, strained from being forced back after so many years cowering, but still relaxed. The bastard was looking down on him, mocking him.

Deku laughed before he turned.

“This entire area is built with the same technology as the quirk suppression cuffs. You’re essentially quirkless here.” Deku said, his eyes alight with that unnatural sadistic gleam.

Oh, this fucker.

Bakugou screams as he swings his fist, “I CAN STILL FIGHT YOU!”

The damn nerd dodged before he could land a hit, always just that bit faster than himself, always just out of reach before he could pummel him. Before he could beat it into his skull to give up. It still pisses him off.

“If you want to lose.”

That stops him.

“What?” he snarls teeth clenched in a grimace of hate. He can’t feel the heat from his quirk. The calm rush that comes after using it. Its not there. It’s useless.

But if its not there than why is Deku’s shirt burnt? He’s not wearing his usual get up, but it’s still familiar. Why does it look so…?

He’s wearing their old middle school uniform.

“Right now, the remaining members of your team are raiding the villain’s headquarters, but they won’t find my people there.”

His people. The extras that turned against the rest of the class.

Mina and Kaminari.

“They’ll find a trap.”

No.

“At this moment they’re my hostages.”

He’s shaking. He’s furious and he can’t use his quirk. He lost.

He lost to fucking Deku.

“So, you win…Why isn’t it over!??” his throat is scratched and raw from screaming.

He still can’t use his quirk.

“Because I haven’t said so yet. Because I haven’t given you an ultimatum. Because I still have one objective left.”

Deku smiles, cruel and unforgiving, gone was his teary-eyed smile of determination. That smile of defiance. This was like a different person.

But at the same time, it wasn’t.

This was Deku. The same one he bullied relentlessly. The spark behind his eyes whenever Bakugou knew he went too far. The one that Deku let him see, let him know.

It made him angry, so so angry.

That spark was burning from the inside out. Until now.

  “Bakugou?! Come in!? This is Uraraka, please answer me! We can’t get out… it’s a trap.”

“I know Round-face! Just…SHUT UP.” He barks back into the coms.

His quirk isn’t working. He can’t fight. He’s powerless. He’s useless. Just like last time.

No. He still has control. This is Deku. This isn’t like last time.

This isn’t the League.

This isn’t the sludge villain.

“What’s your ultimatum?”

“In order for you to win…you have to lose.”

What the fuck? What does that even mean?

“Right now, you are quirkless. You’re alone with no one to help you. Your former best friend standing in front of you. Sound familiar?”

He’s so done with these fucking mind games. He’s going to kill him.

“Tell me how the fuck to win and let’s get this over with you damn-!”

“I’M GETTING TO THAT.”

He never yelled like that before. Deku never acted like this.

That spark of malice was raging now. Deku’s face contorted before slipping away, back to the slightly manic calm it was before.

The spark was still in his eyes.

“If you want to win, you need to lose. Think about that Katsuki. You’re angry, hotheaded, violent, and rash, but you’re not stupid.”

If I want to win…I need to lose?

“The only way I lose...is if I- “

“Yup.” The damn nerd says, popping the ‘p’ pleasantly. Fucker.

He can’t mean that. That’s too sadistic even for him.

(Is it though?)

Deku tosses something to his feet. A timer.

Its going. Four minutes left.

“What is this? WHATS YOUR AIM?!”

“You can’t be the hero and win at the same time. You can’t be the villain FOR TEN YEARS AND THEN ACT LIKE A HERO!”

Tears…its always tears, but he’s never cried until now. Not through all of this until now. So why is he bringing it up?

He’s smiling, hyperventilating. Crying as his hands shake, but all the while still feral and manic. He looks insane.

This isn’t really him.

(It is. He knows its him.)

Villain. Be the villain act like a hero?

That’s it.

Act like a hero, be the villain. That’s Deku.

His mind is whirling, trying to put things together, words on the rooftop spoken put together a story.

He can’t fight back. He’s quirkless. He’s alone facing the one person he never thought possible to hurt him, (and he hates to admit it) his once childhood best friend. An ultimatum, an objective.

It wasn’t Sero’s noose.

Act like a hero, be the villain.

…

So that’s the final objective.

It hits him like that time All Might punched him. He feels like puking. His sweat is hot, but doesn’t ignite. It’s not there.

Its crawling up his throat. Down his throat. He’s suffocating and his quirk isn’t working.

The com is alive again. She’s saying something but he can’t hear her.

“Deku?” the voice is quiet. Hesitant in a way he’s never known. He didn’t think anyone else was on the roof.

The roof of a school…

 He can’t mean it. There’s no way he’d bring this up. He can’t save his team unless…

No, he can’t mean it. He can’t mean that.

He didn’t mean it.

“If you want to be a hero so bad, there’s always one way…” Deku looked up, a manic smile scarred across his tear-streaked face.

Bakugou didn’t mean it.

(He did at the time.)

“Just take a swan dive off the roof of the building.”

He’s standing on the ledge, but Deku isn’t the one whose going to jump. He’s just waiting for him. Izuku reaches his hand out for him to grab. Just like when they were little.

The final objective: make the hero the villain.

“It’s over, Kachan.”

  _______________________________________________________________

“Bakugou?! Come in!? This is Uraraka, please answer me! We can’t get out… it’s a trap.” She finishes lamely, just in time for Bakugou to yell at her. Todoroki and her continue to search the room.

Its mostly empty save for a table and the several chairs surrounding it. On the table is a photograph of a class. The text says Aldera Middle School of XXXX. She see’s both Deku and Bakugou among the kids in the photo.

She spends longer than she should looking at them.

‘How did it come to this.’

“Uraraka, look.” Todoroki’s voice is urgent and draws her out of its morbid and depressed reverie.

She looks up to see him staring at the corner.

On the wall is a timer.

 Less than 2 minutes and going down fast.

 “Bakugou, there’s this timer? It’s….it stopped? Bakugou it stopped! We-!”

 “The Leader of the Hero Team is dead. That concludes the end of the exam. Please exit the facility to receive the scores.”

________________________________________________________________

This is for a fanfic I probably won’t ever write, but I loved Hero Class Civil Warfare by RogueDruid you can find it down below. Please be kind because I haven’t written anything for this fandom, this is my first time posting anything of my own on here, and I haven’t really written any fanfic since 2017-ish? Anywho, hope you like it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446512/chapters/33370263