#me now: hey please remove the knife from my sternum

[kinder-writes-surprises]

To Your Throat

hey y’all with knife kinks and shit, come get y’all juice. Reader’s a gal in this ‘cause uh... girls are hot idk. 

-Mod Pasta 🍜 🍝

Word Count: 2675

Warnings: Knife play, blood play, blood, dominance, rough sex

Loving someone with so much pent up pain, hatred, and regret was difficult: You weren’t going to act like it was an easy task. It was admittedly probably your most toxic, abusive, and satisfying relationship. For every harsh word was covered with a kiss, the heat of his flames could never match his passion, and his lust was beyond even that.

For one of the most wanted murderers, he was quite the lovebug. He actually enjoyed being around you, evidenced by your relationship that has lasted many years. Now that he joined the Villains on the Run club, however, alone time has come sparingly; Therefor, whenever he visited, sex came first. His pent up frustrations were gladly (on both ends) taken out fucking you senseless. However, sometimes you felt like you wanted more. Doggy style could only get so rough, you wanted something dangerous...

And after a bit of research, you knew what you wanted: However, convincing Touya to get a knife anywhere near you would be a tight bargain. He once filleted a man who grabbed your arm at a rave, and he made a point to keep you as far from danger as possible. That being said, he’s a walking danger, so your lips curled into a smile. Tomorrow might just be more fun than usual.

Upon the knock at your door, you felt butterflies in your stomach that you thought had been squashed a while ago. You rushed to it, a flushed smile upon your face as streetlamp light flooded in around a hooded figure. You grabbed his wrist, pulling the white haired man inside: How courteous, he showered before coming to see you.

“Someone’s happy to see - Woah-” His eyes widened as you pulled him in, closing the door behind him. He smiled with a short chuckle as you bolted past him to your kitchen. He followed, interested in your shenanigan's, “(F/N), what’re you up t - Oh shit-!”

You had grabbed a fairly dull kitchen knife and placed it on your counter in preparation of his arrival. You put it into your hands, carefully holding it out and walking back to him. Upon seeing you holding it out like a gift, he stood with wide, confused eyes, “I had an idea-”

“I see that,” He whistled lowly, grabbing the hilt and taking the knife from you with raised eyebrows. As if you didn’t already know he was an expert, he twirled it once in his hands before shoving it into his pocket, “Did you need me to cut some vegetables?”

“I-Uh-” It was now that you stuttered, turning a bit red and grinning, abashed. You put your hands down, awkwardly drawing your words out, “Well, you see, I kinda like... I had this idea-”

“I heard the first time,” You huffed at his interruption, and he just grinned like a bitch and crossed his arms, pushing past you to find what he could scarf down in the kitchen.

“Well, we’re always so uh... rough, in bed, right?” He nodding with a hum, grabbing an apple and opening your fridge while taking a bite from it, “Knives are rough, right?”

The apple hit the floor, and the blue eyes of a slightly flustered, slightly worried, and now fairly horny man met your own slowly. He held a block of cheese in one hand, and upon making eye contact, he quickly grabbed the apple, rubbing it off on his shirt and taking another very large bite from it, “Yeah, they are, but I’m not stabbing you (F/N).”

“No no no! Like, just hold it to my neck or something!” You exclaimed with a small laugh, and he bared his teeth in the most confused, awkward smile you’ve seen on him in a long time.

“I didn’t take you for the knife-play type,” He clicked his tongue, placing the cheese on your counter and cutting a couple slices off, popping them into his mouth for an apple-cheese combo.

“Well, uh, I just want um, more roughness, and you’re already great at that, so-” Your cheeks continued to darken, and you knew he was playing some game by not taking you right then and there. This walking sack of horny shit would be on you in a second usually, but now? He was up to something.

“Thanks,” He nodded, giving you a cheeky eyebrow raise.

“Does this mean you’ve done this before?” You became more intrigued: he was never that open about his past, never told you his last name, and it took you two years to learn that Dabi wasn’t even his first name.

“Of course I have, I’ve done a lot worse,” He then grabbed the blade of the knife aiming the hilt at you, “To understand what you’re getting into, try and hold it onto me. Go on,” He shoved it toward you, and you scrambled forward, grabbing the knife and looking down at it.

“Right, uh,” You swallowed hard as he casually ate apples and cheese. You looked up at him, and he didn’t even give you the pleasure of his mental presence. You scoffed, stomping around the island and holding the knife to his throat, “Hey, at least p-”

“Too slow,” He immediately knocked the knife out of your hand, grabbed it, and switched positions. He shoved you forward into the fridge, knocking the wind out of you. The knife was pressed firmly against your upper throat, and you shouted, hands flying to his chest.

“T-Touya!” You exclaimed, subconsciously pressing your legs tightly together. Yes, this is what you wanted. As if a light switch went off in his head, he pulled away from you, turning the blade of the knife away and pressing his lips together with a sigh.

“I won’t hurt you,” His mouth twitched, “I’m sorry for scaring-” Upon seeing your wide pupils and obviously flushed, aroused body, he paused, and his own cheeks darkened.

“No, that’s what I want, but only uh... if you want it,” Your arms dropped next to your sides, and you rubbed your neck where the knife had been, feeling the indentation and looking at the cheese behind him, “If you want dinner, let me-”

“Dinner after sex,” He stated, grabbing the cheese and nodding as you got out of his way. He put it away, then grabbed your wrist not unlike you had done to him, “Now.”

“Now? Oh, now, yeah!” You nodded, happily letting him guide you to the bedroom. Upon entering, he turned the light on, unlike his usual affinity for the darkness that hid his scars. You imagined he needed to see what he was doing with the knife, of course.

He placed the knife on the night stand, then paused, a smile growing on his lips. You recognized that look as the one he gave right before roasting a man alive, or when he was about to turn and throw you onto the bed. You received the latter, your back against the sheets in less than a second. He was on top of you, his usual cape that covered you both like a tent was replaced by a hoodie that he was removing now. You quickly did the same with your shirt, and he began undoing his belt. You felt a rush of excitement, pulling your pyjama pants down. Before you could get any undergarments off, however, he grabbed them and seared them off.

“Touya!” You gasped in offense, grabbing his arm. He slapped your hand away, grabbing your jaw with little care and pulling you up into a heated kiss.

“I’ll buy you new ones, shut up,” He growled, and you felt the cold metal of his stitches contrast with the heat of his body. His hands went to your hips, and he lowered himself down to your heat, “Fuck, now you got me riled up.”

“As if you weren’t already,” You teased with a laugh, then a small whimper when his long tongue dragged up your vagina.

“I was before you wanted the knife,” He brought your clit between his teeth, his hot, long fingers finding their way inside of you. His usually disgusted other people, but the joints in his fingers always pressed against the right places to drive you mad. He sucked, pulling a shout from you, “Now you’ve really got me high on you.”

“Oh shut up Shakespeare,” You couldn’t bring yourself to laugh, however: his poetic way with words always made your heart flutter.

He did shut up, however, diving into you and bringing more screams of pleasure that you had to muffle with your hand, gripping the bedsheets under you as he pulled sweet moans from you. Soon enough you were falling around his tongue and fingers, the man knowing all the stops to pull you apart like taffy. You whimpered, panting and huffing. He wasn’t satisfied enough, however, and you started to get up as he pulled his boxers off.

“L-Let me make that up t-t-oh-!” You exclaimed when you suddenly felt sharp, cold metal against your sternum. You looked down to see the tip of your kitchen knife pressed in between your breasts, and you looked back up to Touya with wide eyes, “Oh-”

“Down, now,” He snapped, and you fell back, eyes wider than the full moon. He fell back with you, climbing back on top as you parted your legs for him. He slowly lowered his face to you, bringing the knife up to your chin, “Get a condom.”

“Yes,” You couldn’t nod, so you reached without looking to your bedside dresser and opened it, pulling the box out and then one packet out, throwing the box on the ground.

“Take it out,” He continued, a spark in his eyes that you could tell was turning into a raging fire. You did as you were told, that same fire catching within you, “Put it on.”

“Yes,” You whispered, reaching down to his erection. He was hard as stone at this point, turned on by the situation at hand.

“Yes what?” He growled, his smile turning into a devious, evil grin that sent pleasant shivers down your back.

“Yes sir,” You took a sharp breath, and with his free hand, he aligned at your entrance, pushing in. You breathed out in relief, closing your eyes.

“Don’t relax,” The knife was suddenly at your throat, pressing in as he pressed deeper, “This might be dull, but I don’t need a knife to end your life,” He started a rhythm that quickly picked up speed. You gasped, your whines growing louder into moans.

“Please,” You begged, “Touya,” He grit his teeth, and you were confused for a second before you felt his hand on your throat. You yelped in surprise, but having handed your safety to this man many times, you trusted him. He pressed against your jugular vein, cutting blood off to your head. You could feel the hilt of the knife in his hand, and your whimpering gasps could barley express how much pleasure surged through you.

He was fucking you at a rough pace, and once you started to see black spots, you grabbed his arm. He loosened his grip, and you gasped for breath, endorphins surging through you, “Fuck, Touya,” You moaned his name at a pitch you hadn’t expected, and he grunted, lowered himself down as his nails dug into your hips so he could get deeper.

“Say my name again,” He groaned, breathing heavily. You did as you were told, and you felt his teeth in your skin, biting deep, deeper than usual. He was finally starting to catch on that you enjoyed the thrill, the danger, and possibly even a bit of pain. You gasped, grabbing his shoulders and sinking your own nails in.

“Please,” Slipped out again, and he pulled back, licking his lips. His eyes, burning the same colour as his flames, bore into your own in a silent question. What do you want me to do to you?

Your eyes went to the knife in his hand, and he cocked an eyebrow, then swallowed hard. His pace slowed down, and you start to think you might have crossed a line. Before you could ask, however, a focused look dawned his face, and you felt his thrusts become methodical and deep as he brought the tip of the knife to your chest. When it first grazed your skin, you were surprised by how much a little cut could hurt.

However, with every thrust came a rush of pleasure that lapped the pain away, leaving it seared with pleasure instead. You felt overwhelmed and overstimulated, barely having the energy to twitch and grip the pillow under your head. He bit his lower lip, obviously paying attention to his work on your chest and breasts, but also fucking you in almost a primal, needy way. He wanted to work, but he needed you.

Eventually you came, warning him with a short shout, then long moan as your legs tightened around him. He paused his work of light scratches and nicks, then once you quieted down, continued as if it was a mere distraction. As his thrusts started to get sloppier and he was grunting with even the minimal effort he was exerting, you knew he was close to done: Your own body was fried, and the only reminder of the real world was the barely bleeding marks upon your chest. You doubted they would even permanently scar: that’s how delicate he was.

Finally, once he finished however, he tossed the knife onto your other pillow, grabbing your hips with both hands and suddenly increasing the pace, thrusting into you. You yelped, gasping and grabbing onto the sheets once again as reality flushed back in. You felt a single trickle of blood fall off your side, but the pain from the marks he made merely stung a little: Too much pleasure was coursing through you to care. He finished quickly, and you felt sufficiently used as he flopped next to you, grabbing the knife before and tossing it off the bed, “Fuck.”

“Fuck ind-wait, did you write something?” You looked down at your chest to see what he had been doing. The man snickered, then began to laugh, pulling the condom off.

“I’ll be right back,” He got up, and you heard the bathroom door open once he left the room. You waited patiently, and when he came back with gauze, medical tape, and isopropyl alcohol, you whined with less of a sexy undertone, “Ah ah ah, it’s gotta be cleaned or it’ll get infected.”

“What if I wanna be infected,” You mumbled, and he raised a single eyebrow, pulling his boxers on before sitting next to you and going to work cleaning the marks. It stung so much worse than when he made them, and you hissed in pain.

“Fuck, did I cut too deep? I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no, I liked it, really. I liked all of it,” You nodded quickly, waving your hands around. He pressed his lips together with a small sigh, and you assumed it was more self-disappointment.

“I might have gone a little sadistic, I’m sorry you had to see that side of me,” He muttered, and you felt his personal shame creeping into him, evident in the tone of his voice. You gently put a hand on his own, pausing him for a second to look into his eyes.

“I love all parts of you, Touya,” You smiled, bringing a hesitant one from the usually snarky boy. He could let his guard down with you, he could be himself with you, “Even the ones you might not like.”

“Even my uneven balls?” The laugh that erupted from the both of you was loud enough to rival a train, and the rest of the evening consisted of similar laughter, and banter to follow.

The next couple weeks, however, you had to spend knowing someone’s name was engraved upon your chest. You were marked, owned, and carved in by the symbols for Touya,  燈 矢.

#touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi #bnha #mha #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #knife play #blood play #blood #bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #my hero academia imagines #mod pasta

[i-may-be-stupit]

Shigaraki x Silly!Reader

As usual, this is rather gender-neutral and the horny got me because I fukn love Shiggy 🥵😍 but yeah, enjoy!

You typed up a report of the latest incident between Endeavor and the league of Villains. Well, actually, you were just editing your boss's writing. She was a journalist and you were her assistant. You rolled your eyes, reading through it and fixing any grammar mistakes or typos you came across. Why the hell is she making Endeavor seem so god damn perfect? I mean, when you first met him, you told the guy a joke and he hasn't stopped glaring at you ever since. You rolled your eyes at just the thought of that fuck-faced jackass.

Not only were you the editor, but you were also the secretary in the news office building which is a whole different job as it is. You blew a bubble from your gum and turned your music in your earbuds up a bit more, since the day was going slow. Yeah, there'd be a scoop here and there but not a lot.

You looked up to see a guy with red eyes and a black hoodie grinning evily while saying stuff to you. You just stared at him until he finished talking. He looked at you and you looked at him. You spat your gum in a tissue then took out your earbuds. You smiled softly at the man. "I'm sorry, you said you wanted a visitors' pass?"

The man looked at you with a blank stare at first. "You didn't hear anything I just said?" You shook your head. He frowned and tilted his head in annoyance, "I was talking for like 3 minutes straight." You just blinked. "I just explained my whole reasoning for kidnapping you for information on Endeavor."

You smiled at him, "Im sorry sir, I'm just the secretary, but the information desk is on floor three, just take that elevator to the right and-"

"What the fuck, bitch?!" He opened his arms wide in anger, "Do you not recognize me from the news?!"

You put a finger on your chin and tapped it in thought for a moment, before clicking your tongue and snapping your finger, "Ah, you must be a pro hero or something!" His jaw dropped. "Wow, no wonder youre so handsome!" You took the bottle of lotion out of your desk's drawer and offered him some. "If you're going on an interview you could use some of this though!" He glared at you before snapping his fingers, and thats when you found out who he is.

The entire League of villains showed up and your eyes widened in fear. The man known as Shigaraki Tomura laughed harshly with a gleam in his eyes, "Recognize me yet, (Y/N) (L/N)?!"

You stared at him again in fear. You then snorted, "Hank the handy man?" And thats when he lunged at you, only for Shigaraki to fall into one of Kurogiri's portals. You laughed with tears in your eyes as the burnt up goth boy snickered. Kurogiri elbowed Dabi and Dabi wiped away a bloody tear in his own eye as he held your arms behind your back.

Dabi chuckled quietly in your ear a small, "You gotta teach me some insults if you live." And you snorted as you consentualy walked into a portal, not even mad at being kidnapped.

You were in what seemed to be a lounge area, seated on a chair with your arms handcuffed to the back of you. You looked around, innocently smiling, "Wowie, nice place you guys got here!" Spinner looked at Dabi confused as you started humming. "So, uh, whatcha need me for?"

Mange spoke up, "Wait, how are you so calm about this?"

You chuckled, "Hey, this chair is comfy, I'm off from work now, and I got to see a cute guy up-close and personal!"

Dabi looked at you with a straight face. "No thank you."

You rose an eyebrow at him, "Dont flatter yourself, Rat, I'm talking about the one that tried to kill me." Shigaraki walked into the room, slightly pissed off as Kurogiri rubbed his back. "There he is! The handsome one!"

Shigaraki glared at you. "Don't patronize me." You were about to speak, but he cut you off before even getting the chance, "You're working with Yuki Ino, the Journalist who's been interviewing pro heros, including Endeavor." You nodded, not understanding if that was supposed to be taken as a question or not. "Tell me everything about what's happened to All Might, why he retired, and how to end Endeavor, including the Pro-heros' plans to take down my organization."

You stared at him for a good minute before sneezing, "Sorry, what did you say? I disasociated."

Shigaraki twitched before scratching his neck violently. "What do you know about the number 1 pro hero?!"

"What?!" You looked at him in utter confusion. "I cant even remember what I had for breakfast, how the fuck do you expect me to remember anything about Enslaver?"

The red eyed male scratched his neck faster. "Endeavor."

You looked in even more confusion, "What the fuck is that?"

Shigaraki pulled you by your shirt closer to him in pure anger, "His hero name! Its Endeavor, not Enslaver!"

You blushed and fluttered your lashes, "Wow, the way your crimson gems glisten even in such dim lighting is so mesmerizing..." You puckered your lips and moved forward, but Shigaraki just let go of your shirt in utter disgust.

"I dont speak Wattpad."

You smiled at him happily, "I mean, I know that I should be scared because you're hella intimidating, but geez louis, your eyes are pretty! If you don't end up killing me can I be your boo thang?" You grinned and thats when he lunged at wwnnaqqa again, only for Kurogiri to put himself in front of you, again, so Shigaraki just fell into his portal, again.

Kurogiri just quietly mumbled out a small, "Lets take a break." Before going to the bar and throwing back a shot of some alcohol.

Later:

Shigaraki crossed his arms in front of the League with you in another room. "She was trying to seduce me like a slut to get out of death! Playing with my emotions?! Like I'm an ,idiot?! How dare she?!"

rtserrr

Dabi sat back, watching as Toga practiced her knife throwing on Twice. The burt man shrugged nonchalauntly, "She seemed legit to me."

Toga and Twice both nodded with a little, "Mhm," as Toga threw a knife at an apple on Twice's head.

Shigaraki just frowned. "Have you people seen me?" They all stopped what they were doing, looked at their boss and then put their hands up to their faces while cringing.

Kurogiri walked in, dragging you in a chair behind him. He placed you right in front of Shigaraki and you smiled awkwardly at him, "Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, Mister Shigaraki, I just can't help myself when I see a cute guy like you, though!" You giggled and shrugged as Twice awed at the nonexistent budding romance.

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust and concern. "You seriously think that I'm cute?"

You tilted your head cutely with a small smile"That's why I asked you out, what the hell?" You chuckled softly and Shigaraki blushed with a frown as he stared at you.

He scratched at his neck, took a shot of alcohol and sighed. "Just tell me everything you know about Endavor, okay?"

You frowned deeply with a small groan, "Ugh! He's kinda a asshole! I told him "Good morning, Teletubby Sun" and he just glarred really hard at me!" You frowned and pouted before mumbling out a small, "I mean, it was just a joke..."

Shigaraki pinched the bridge of his nose in utter frustration while Dabi fucking died of laughter in the background, "Anything actually important?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Hey! That's totally important!"

A weak, hourse, "it is!" came from Dabi and you grinned.

"See, he gets it!"

He glared daggers into you and got closer to your face. "Do you not understand the danger you're in?" He snarled. "I can kill you right now if you dont submit."

You poked your lips out jokingly before giggling out, "I get it, but who's to say I don't wanna die?" You winked at him.

Shigaraki stared at you calmly, not leaving your goofy grin. "Everyone out of the room. Now." And everyone did as they were told and left, all praying for you.

Shigaraki silently cut your restraints and you started rubbing your wrists while smiling, "Thank you! You know, that was starting to hurt-"

He grabbed you by your hair and flung you onto the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and to make matters worse, he placed a foot on your chest, glarring down at you. "This isn't a game, you stupid fucking cunt." Shigaraki laughed darkly, seeing your jokester smile twist into a horrified grit as you struggled to breath. "I mean, are you dumb or something?! Your worthless life is on the line and you really couldn't care less?! "His hands covered his mouth, holding back another laugh, though you could hear it in his voice, "You're so fucking pathetic, I don't even feel like wasting my time killing you~!" He pushed his foot down harder.

You gasped for air, clawing at his foot to pry it off. "S-Shigaraki, sir-" A crack was echoed as he pushed his foot down harder on your now broken sternum. You scream out as tears fell from your face from the pain, "Please, p-please remove your f-foot..."

Shigaraki only laughed harder, cupping a hand over his cheek, ring finger raised, "Oh all of a sudden you care about your life, huh?" He straddled you, pinning you down with your wrists in one hand, and your neck in his other. "You think you can just flirt with me like the little slut you are and get off Scott free, huh?" You choked and Shigaraki drew closer to your ear, "Where's that attitude gone now, huh? Oh, can you not speak anymore? Tell me, please, how many dicks have you taken already. How the hell did you get a job," his face scrunched up in fury, "at a god damn Hero News agency without knowing shit about any heros, huh?! You probably slept with everyone there. Didnt you? Flirting with them to get what you want just like with me?"

Your face was hot and you were crying and choking at his words and actions, "N-No! That's not-" you gasped hard, unable to breath properly, "not me at all!"

Shigaraki loosened his grip on your neck. He glarred deep into your soul. "Then why the hell were you flirting with me back there? I'm not dumb, (Y/N), I'm a very fucking capable man!"

You smiled awkwardly, thankful that you could breath a little better. "I just think you're HANDsome!" Shigaraki's cheeks tinted pink as he glared at you. He let his grip go completely as you choked and coughed before looking up with a smile, "And this position... w-with you on top of me is really lewd, so can you maybe..." You trailed off as he just stared harder at you.

Shigaraki blinked, expressionless. "I'm pinning you down on the verge of killing you and the only think you can think of is getting fucked by me?" You looked away, struggling a bit with the feeling of awkwardness and arousal. He smirked, feeling your neck get hotter. "You really are a little fucking whore aren't you?" And with that, he softly kissed your lips.

Your face went hot as you looked up at him. "What was that for?" He kissed you again, this time longer. "S-shigaraki..." You pouted and looked away. "Theres something I should tell you..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head with a smirk, waiting for you to tell him that you're still a virgin.

"You shouldve taken my lotion earlier." You laughed out and he started choking you again. "Joking- J- Joking!" Shigaraki glarred down at you before tongue kissing you much more rough. You moaned as it thrashed against your tongue, saliva dripping out the side of your mouth. Shigaraki bit your lip softly before dragging his tongue down your chin and onto your neck. He licked and sucked on it as you bit your bottom lip. Tomura came back up and tongue kissed you for only a second before grabbing your shirt with all five fingers. You gasped and covered up your bra. "H-Hey! Gentlemen ask for permission first!" You frowned and he just grabbed you by your jaw.

He mocked you with a fake pouty voice, "Oh, that's my bad for not being a fucking gentleman. Can I pwease fuck you??" Tomura rolled his eyes, "Now shut the fuck up and let me suck on your nipples." Shigaraki's mouth immediately locked with your left nipple as his fingers played with your right. He laughed, hearing you softly mumble his name. His mouth left your chest with a small pop and he looked down at you with a smirk, "Dont be shy saying my name, (Y/N); I'm gonna need you to get used to screaming it anyways." And with that, he licked his lips then placed his tongue on your torso, dragging it all the way down to your work pants.

He decenigrated your pants and underwear happily. Shigaraki brought his face to your slit and took a hard lick, a finger shoving itself inside of your tight hole. You moaned loudly, confused. "Tomura, a warning next time!?" He just pumped his finger inside of you slowly as his tongue played with your privates. You moaned while holding his head down on you, your fingers twisted in his hair, as he sucked you off like a cherry. You panted heavily and he stuck another finger in you. Shigaraki then lifted his head off you.

"I'd warn you that time, but you're kind of suffocating me, so maybe, don't fucking push down so hard!" You frowned and just pushed his head back in between your thighs. He kissed and licked more, groaning whenever you'd thrust into his mouth deeper. Shigaraki chuckled at how you'd only get quiet when hes making you moan.

You shivered and groaned, coming closer and closer to your climax. Shigaraki noticed and immediately pulled off of you. He wipped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed you by the hair. "Alright, slut, you've had your fun." He pulled you towards him and you fell on the floor, right in front of his groin. Tomura sat, grinned down at you with one leg up, "You gonna just stare or are you sucking me off?"

You rolled your eyes before pulling his pants and boxers down. Oh wow, you were not expecting this... You put a hand over your mouth and blushed hard. He was only semi hard and already a good 8 inches, what the hell?? It was thin, but long, kind of like the rest of him.

Shigaraki frowned down at you, blushing hard, "What? Is something wrong with it?? I-I've never done this before, asshole, so stop making me feel bad!"

You felt a smile rise onto your lips. Is he... getting flustered? You chuckled and looked up at him, pumping slowly, "It's just intimidating." You licked the tip and gulped, feeling a bit nervous, "But, I'll try to take it all in, okay?"

You placed your lips on his tip and suck it as your hands jerked him off. He groaned, grabbing your head with 4 fingers. You gradually took more and more into your mouth, using your hands for whatever didn't fit. You bobbed your head up and down on him, speeding up. Shigaraki groaned your name.

"F-Fuck, Y/N, you really know what you're doing!" He pressed his hand on the back of your head harder, forcing more of him into you. You gagged and choked as Tomura just laughed, "God, you're taking it all in like a good little sex slave, aren't you?" You moaned at the name and shigaraki shuttered, "Mm, your moans feel so fucking good on my cock!" He breathed harder, "Fuck, Y/N, I need you to touch yourself while sucking me." You brought your hand to your slit and rubbed at it, moaning. Shigaraki groaned, "Fuck, Just like that!"

You gagged and moaned on his dick, feeling it twitch in your mouth. A lewd little 'pop' echoed in the room as you let off. Shigaraki frowned and you gave him a cheeky grin, "No sticky icky for you!" He groaned in annoyance.

"God, why are you like this?!?" He grabbed your arm and threw you roughly on the bed. Before you knew it, Shigaraki was already inside of you. Your face went hot as he fucked you doggy style.

You screamed, "A warning!!! We've been over this!!!" He responded with a slap on your ass.

Tomura rode your ass, grinding into you and groaning while doing it. "Fuck off, Y/N, you're a horny mess just like me, dumbass!" You screamed his name as his thrusts became faster and deeper. Shigaraki pulled both of your wrists back and down, making you kneel, your back pressed against his chest as he fucked into you. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight..." Shigaraki sloppily kissed your neck. You breathed harder as his dick hit the spot over and over. Shigaraki flipped you over onto your back. You laid underneath him as he paused. Tomura blushed harder and looked away, "I-I wanna really savor this..." he smirked, glaring in your eyes, "Plus I wanna know what you look like, full of my cum!"

You were flustered and giggling, "Its the ✨mood switch✨ for me-"

Tomura placed a hand over your mouth, "No. You just lost your speaking privileges."

Shigaraki grinded into you slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool seeped from your lips. Shigaraki held your waist, pulling you whenever he's press himself deep inside of you. You were speechless from the pleasure. You moaned and whined as his body slowly moved with yours.

You pressed the back of your hand to your face, feeling a bit embarrassed at the change of atmosphere. It was so easy to just enjoy him fucking you silly and laughing and everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel any other emotion rather than pleasure muxed in with something new.

Shigaraki placed his forehead against yours and breathed harder, "I-I'm getting there, Y/N..." He let out a breathy moan and your legs shaked. Tomura kissed you softly as well. "A-Ah, you're almost there t-too, right?"

You nodded, feeling a knot in your stomach. You moaned and Shigaraki pulled out, cumming all over you. You moaned, climaxing too.

You were covered in cum and panting. You couldn't even find words to say. It just felt so good. Shigaraki cuddled up to you. He smiled and kissed your cheek. "I'm giving you your speaking privileges back now." You stayed silent, your face hot. It was hard for you to be serious, but God damn. Tomura looked at you a bit concerned, "You okay-"

"That was amazing."

He looked surprised before laughing hard. "Did I really leave you speechless?" You nodded, silently. Shigaraki kissed your lips, "That sucks because, even though you're annoying, I kinda like you."

Your eyes widened. He liked your jokes and stupid comments?! Your mouth became ajar. "I-I..." You just closed your mouth, staring at him.

Shigaraki placed his arm over you. He smiled, "Lets hang out tomorrow."

You smiled back.

[theleftovertaco]

Ratel

Someone sent me this amazingly specific ask about a Afro- Caribbean girl at Hogwarts and I loved the idea so this is the result. I would like to preface this by saying that I am not afro-Caribbean. While I did spend a few hours researching Trinidadian, Kenyan and Nigerian culture, food and customs, I am extremely sorry if anything here looks stereotypical or if i get something wrong. Please correct me if I mess up because I would never want to dishonor a person’s culture or country.

ONTO THE STORY

Y/N’s arrival had been a bit of an event. Transfer students were rare, and when they occurred, they were treated as a big deal, since often they only happened for some political reason of the students parents. This was exactly the case with Y/N

Dumbledore had stepped to the front of the Great Hall at the beginning of the year after the first years had been sorted and called everyone’s attention.

“This year, we have a new 4th year transfer student joining us,” excited chatter erupted around the room, “I trust you will make her feel welcome and show her what Hogwarts School is all about. Please welcome Mrs. Y/N  Y/L/N from Uagadou School of Magic in Uganda!” The doors opened and you walked through, head high and looking straight ahead despite the stares that followed you.

Professor McGonagall gave you a smile and instructed you to the stool for your sorting. 

The hat barely touched your head before “HUFFLEPUFF” was exclaimed and rapturous applause came from the yellow and black table. 

As you sat down for the feast, a tall boy with fluffy brown hair reached out to shake your hand, “I’m Cedric Diggory, sixth year. That was quite an entrance. Welcome to Hufflepuff.” 

“Thank you.”

“Are you surprised to be in our house? Honestly with the way you carried yourself I would have guessed Slytherin.”

“Not really. Hufflepuff is the house of the loyal, kind, and hardworking. Just because I’m sharp or harsh looking doesn’t mean I can’t have those traits.”

He looked at you in shock

“You’ve done your research. Yeah, I guess you’re right, a person can be more than one thing. So what’s Uganda like?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I went to school at Uagadou but my family is mostly Nigerian, Kenyan, and Trinidadian and most of my life we’ve spent moving around those areas and the Americas. My parents have some sort of business here for the next year or so, and I decided that I might as well try a new school, so they let me come here.” 

“Oh that sounds fun!” A younger blonde girl jumped into the conversation, “Sorry to interrupt. Hannah Abbot, third year.” You nodded her way and shook her hand as well as other Hufflepuff’s began to introduce themselves and listen into the conversation. 

“So,” Susan Bones asked, “Do you speak any other languages?” 

You nodded and listed them off, “Yes. Officially, English is the main language in Nigeria but in Kenya and Uganda, Swahili is also common. I also speak Spanish, Portugese, and I’m familiar with French and the Trinidadian dialects of French as well as French Creole.” A chorus of wows surrounded you. 

“What’s Uagadou like?”

“It’s nice, just very different from what I can tell. They are a lot more loose about how they teach things there. It’s strange, everyone here is dependent on wands.”

“You don’t use wands?”

“We do, but before that we’re taught to use magic with our hands and nonverbally. Helps avoid detection and makes it easy to still use magic if we’re disarmed. Dependence on a wand is pretty strictly European. Almost every other country learns without them first.”

“So you can just do magic, like with your hands?”

“Yup.” You flicked your fingers and the fork and knife in front of your plate did a little dance before picking up a piece of chicken and bringing it too your mouth.”

You looked around and your cutlery show had attracted the attention of a few of the surrounding houses students as well as professor Flitwick’s attention.

“That was marvelous, Mrs. Y/L/N! Would you mind demonstrating some of that again in my class tomorrow?” 

“Sure, I have charms tomorrow at 2 pm so it should work.” He nodded and walked back to his table with the other professors.

The conversation deviated and eventually with dinner over, you were ushered to the coziness of the Hufflepuff common room and dorms. Plants and comfy blankets were all about the rooms. This was exactly the house you belonged to.

-----------------------------------

Breakfast the next day saw a new set of questions and some repeats from other houses students who hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Word had made it’s rounds by then, and people realized you were exceptionally gifted. 

During your free period after lunch, you were practically assaulted by a set of identical red headed string beans.

“You’re the transfer student right?”

“Yes, I-”

“We heard you’re gifted.”

“I mean I suppose-”

“What else can you do?”

“Can you show us?”

“Someone said you’re already an animagus?”

“OK SHUSH! One. I am not a goddamn zoo animal for you to just ask to do tricks at your whim. Two. One question at a time, for fuck’s sake.” 

Shocked identical looks were followed by sheepish remorse.

“And three. Yes I am and animagus.”

One of them stepped forward.

“Sorry, that was kind of rude of us. We didn’t mean to come off so pushy. I’m George. He’s Fred.”

Fred also apologized and once you accepted, they asked again, albeit a little more gently.

“So, what animal can you turn into?” Fred asked slowly, like he thought he might annoy you again if he asked. 

“You don’t have to talk that slowly, I won’t bite.” Fred laughed some and motioned for you to continue.

“I’m a Ratel.”

“A wot?”

“Also known as a honey badger.”

“Ohhhh.” Fred gasped

“I actually like that better than honeybadger. Sounds nicer.”

“Can we call you that? Ratel?” You shrugged and from there on out Ratel was more your name than your actual one. The teachers, staff, students. Even Dumbledore called you that. 

---------------------------

The one group of people you refused to tolerate was Malfoy and his goon-squad. 

It’s the superiority complex for me. 

And everyone. 

“How dare you look at me, filthy little-”

“Malfoy I know you weren’t just trying to beat up another first year.” You marched over to him with Neville, Luna, and the twins behind you. Crabbe and Goyle immediately dropped the Ravenclaw they had hoisted over their shoulders, and the small boy raced behind you and clutched onto your side. Crabbe and Goyle knew not to mess with you. Not after the thrashing you had given them before winter break. 

Apparently Draco hadn’t learned the same lesson.

“Technically, I wasn’t.”

“Not you trying to use that smart shit with me. Why don’t you pick on someone your own size.”

“And if I don’t? What are you gonna do Princess?”

Princess. Absolutely not. 

You stormed over to him, grabbed his pressed collar (fucking prick) and slammed him against a tree. 

“If you even look in the direction of any of the younger kids. If you even look my way, or my friends way, or anyone’s way really. I will shove your own wand so far up your ass your can taste it, throw you to the forbidden forest, chuck whatever is left of you at the Whomping Willow, and then throw the remains in a disintegrating solution. Don’t try me. You know I’ll do it.”

You leaned back, and then punched him in the sternum. He crumpled to the ground before stumbling back up and running off. 

You checked over the first year and then sent him on his way. As you walked off with the others, Neville spoke up. 

“I’ve never heard of a disintegrating solution. Did you just make that up?”

“No, my mother and her twin have this old family book of spells and potions. It’s been passed down through the past few generations and people add to it often.”

“Wicked! Is that how you managed to remove Parkinson’s nose the other day?” Fred asked.

“Yup. She still in the infirmary?” 

George laughed before responding, “Yeah, Pomphrey still can’t figure out how to reattach it and Parkinson refuses to say who did it.”

Everyone laughed as you headed to the library. 

----------------------

“What are you doing in here?” Dean and Seamus stepped behind the portrait in the kitchens. 

“Jesus CHRIST! You scared me.”

Seamus smiled and kissed your cheek, “Sorry, love. So, whatcha making?” He leaned over the pot you were stirring. 

“Trinidadian curry. I missed home, and no offense, but British food has little to no flavor.”

“None taken- Mm! Thasth really goof!” His mouth was full but you picked up the gist. Dean laughed as he also stole a bite.

“Quit it you two. It’s not quite done yet.” 

“Fine.”

“Sorry, Ratel.”

-------------------

“Harry James Potter!” Harry jumped as you stormed into the Gryffindor common room.

“How did you even get in here, you’re a hufflepuff?”

“Don’t change the subject. Why didn’t you tell me you were getting headaches? I just had to find out from Hermione!” 

“Ratel, it’s not a big deal calm dow-”

“Kid. If you’re getting headaches everyday you need to get some help for it.”

“I’m not a kid, and it’s none of your concern!”

“You’re my friend. Of course it’s my concern. And don’t pull all that ‘Oh I’m the Chosen One, I need to do shit by myself’ because it’s dumb, ok Harry.”

He paused, “Fine… I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you are, now sit your ass down and I’ll grab you a headache potion.”

“Ok… Hey, Ratel?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

--------------------------

“The mandrake leaf has been in your mouth all month, you’ll all be fine.” Fred, George, Seamus, Dean, Luna, Neville, Cedric, Ron, Harry and Hermione all stood surrounding you in a circle as you held a glass phial. A flask of a potion was passed around and then each of them chanted the needed incantation.

All around you, each of them shrunk or grew as their form took place. 

Fred and George transformed into identical hyenas who turned towards each other and erupted into a high pitched cacophony of screeching and laughing. Seamus turned into a phoenix with bright orange and yellow plumage, while Dean turned into a rather large fluffy golden retriever. Luna turned into a white hare and proceeded to dart around the hill you were on. Neville was now a meerkat. Cedric was a Lynx. Ron was now a roaring lion, Hermione now a river otter, and Harry a similar Stag to his father’s. 

You shrunk down to your badger form and the lot of you rushed around for the next few hours until the sun came up. Racing, messing with each other, 

Hogwarts had turned into home.

--------------------

If you saw something incorrect or inconsistent with any culture PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT. There is such a lack of POC representation in the fandom and as someone who is latina, I love when I see even a scrap of representation so after this I will probably start doing more like this (likely more mexican/ salvadoran cause thats where a lot of my family is from).

Also I’m sorry if this is too long or I wasn't able to get every detail in I hope this was what anon wanted! 

#fred weasley #george weasley #seamus finnigan x reader #cedric diggory #ron weasley #neville longbottom #draco malfoy #dean thomas #luna lovegood #hermione granger

[lolabean1998]

This Better Work Part 6

Sweet Pea X OC

Summery; Hey guys, not sure how well this is going to go but I originally put it on Wattpad so its way long, but hopefully its not horrendous. Let me know what you think! So, it follows the story line kind of, it’s not exact but I have tried and it follows my OC Ali as she navigates through the hell that is Riverdale. Whilst struggling with financial, social and romantic difficulties, she has the added pressure of keeping up with school work and bonus of being thrown into the frightening world of the criminal underground.

Side Note; None of the gifs or pictures I use are mine, I’m not talented or smart enough to even begin an attempt at making my own. Thank you to those who have such abilities and if you don’t want me using them then please let me know so I can remove them for you. 

Word Count; 5,407 (Give or Take)

Ali hid her bike half a mile from the tattoo parlour where Penny Peabody had set up shop. Sticking to the shadows as she crept silently towards the door. Picking the lock in seconds. Her father had taught her to pick car locks as her mum was always locking her keys inside. Ali tip toed in checking for an alarm system. But this was Southside and Serpent territory, so it was very unlikely. 

Thank god for honour amongst thieves, I guess. Who'd be dumb enough to break into the snake pit? Ali thought to herself and she headed cautiously to the office at the back. 

On second thought Ali, don't answer that! She chuckled when she remembered that she was probably the only person in the whole of Riverdale dumb enough to do so. She was quick to upload the virus. Making sure to infect all aspects of the computer writing the last of the code to focus on the set files. Once she was satisfied with her work, she quickly crept back to the comfort of the night air. Heaving a sigh of relief when she made it in and out without a hitch.

"OI WHAT ARE YOU DOING." A deep terrifying voice bellowed from a small huddle of bikes across the road that Ali had failed to spot. 

"Premature sigh. PREMATURE SIGH!" Ali muttered to herself as her heart rate met speeds that would put her bike to shame. She didn't have much time to plan her escape as 3 ominous figures raced furiously towards her. 

Well that’s just fucking great, Of COURSE it's them. Ali hissed internally to herself as the light of a street lamp hit the faces of her attackers. Revealing none other than Sweet Pea and Fangs charging head on towards her. 

"Wait why am I still here!" Ali thought aloud leaping into action. Just in time to avoid a large heavy fist swinging mere millimetres from her face. She didn't have time to run from the fight. She had hesitated too long. Leaving her only one option. She was going to have to fight her way out. 

She didn’t have any time to thinking before ducking from a second swing. Upper cutting Fangs before he could get another hit in. Landing a perfect jab to his diaphragm winding him instantly. Ali couldn't help but give him a sharp boot to the ribs for good measure. He had tried to hit her twice. It was only fair. One of the two Serpent boys Ali wasn't familiar with grabbed her outstretched wrist pulling her towards him. 

Dumbass took the bait! Ali smirked using the momentum of his pull to heave herself up wrapping her legs under his arm and over his shoulder hurtling him head first to the concrete. Swinging herself out the way at the last moment. 1 winded, 1 knocked out. 

Keep it up Ali-Cat! She thought. Dodging a fist to the jaw only to be caught in the ribs by a surprise attack from Sweet Pea. Jackass! Ali quickly gave the second Serpent boy a hard kick to the sternum sending him flying back. 

However, Fangs was now recovered enough to be back on his feet. Grabbing her leg before she could bring it back to the ground. Ali felt bad for Fangs. But he left her no other choice. She was just about to push herself up to kick him with her free leg. But a large pair of hands landed heavy on her shoulders gripping them tightly. She was defenceless. 

Come ON! I don't want to stab you, but I will if I must! Ali gasped exasperatedly in her head. 

Ali, determined not to seriously harm her friends, quickly twisted wrapping her hands around Sweet Peas arms kicking up with all the strength she had. Kicking Fangs square in the jaw as her legs cut swiftly through the air. Making their way up over her head and landing heavily on Sweet Peas shoulders forcing him to release the hold he had on her shoulders. Fangs staggered back. His eyes rolling in their sockets before his body dropped to the ground unconscious. Ali wasted no time in throwing her upper body backwards to the ground. Her legs gripping tightly around Sweet Pea. Slamming his back hard against the concrete. 

But he was a stubborn boy and could take a hit. His hands gripping Ali's arm as she scrambled to her feet, heaving her back down rolling her to her back before she had a chance to break free. But he slipped up. Missing Ali's free arm giving her just enough time to grab a knife from her holster. Moving the blade to press threateningly against his crotch as the giant straddled her. She had only recently fixed his jacket. She didn't want to be the first one to slice it again.

"You've got some explaining to do!" He snarled, his voice cracked and gravelly. He had just been smashed against the floor. 

Ali lay there silently. Pushing the blade harder against the inside of his thigh in response. His eye's searching her masked face. Like he was looking for something. Waiting for the ball to drop. One hand pinning Ali's hand to the ground above her head whilst the other subtly searched her pockets. Ali was so focused on planning her escape she didn't notice him pull her lock picking kit from her breast pocket. Ali could see the realization gradually begin to surface in his eyes. She had to get out of there before he recognized her. Pulling her blade swiftly from his crotch and thrusting the handle full force into the side of his ribs. Angling the blade so the handle wedged smoothly between the ribs as she struck, winding him. Giving her the opening she needed to pull her arm from his death grip punching him hard on the side of his face.

That should be a lovely shiner you fucking tosser. You're lucky I fixed up that jacket otherwise I'd have used the other side of the knife. Bean Pole! Ali huffed leaping to her feet and launching into the race of her life. If she could make it to her bike before Sweet Pea came too, she'd be in the clear! Her feet pounded hard against the ground. Legs blazing and lungs close to bursting as she whipped around the corner. Frog leaping onto her bike throwing on her helmet and taking off in one clean swoop. She tore down the street not wanting to look back. Afraid of what she might see. Her heart was still racing when she crossed the border. Only settling when her bike was safely snuggled in its little shed, with her back in the confines of her home.

"You've got a split lip Ali. Did you walk into something or were you spotted?" Rosie asked the next morning when Ali made her way groggily over to the kitchen island. Her body sore and stiff from all the galivanting of the night.

"Car part dropped as I was fitting it. But yes there was a minor hitch in an otherwise smooth mission." Ali groaned, already practicing her excuse so she wouldn't raise suspicions if she was asked about it. "Poor Fangs. He didn't deserve that last night. We should make cookies or something for him."

"Because nothing says innocent like a guilt basket!" Rosie retorted sarcastically handing her worn out daughter a large mug of steaming hot tea and a full English breakfast.

"You're right. We need a Trojan horse." Ali pondered. The two girls faces lit up into a wickedly innocent smile as Izzy skipped into the kitchen. Freezing when she spotted the concerning glares her mother and big sister were giving her.

"Whatever it is I want no part of it. That look never brings anything good!" Izzy declared edging cautiously to her seat beside her sister.

"Isabelle. My darling dearest little sister." Ali started, her voice sweeter than sugar. 

"How would you feel about a sparring session with Sami? We could bring cookies and train this afternoon. I'll teach you any move you like!" Ali offered batting her eyelashes pleadingly. Izzy had to fight the urge to leap in the air in celebration. Instead opting to play it cool even if it went against every fibre of her being.

"Since you asked so nicely. I guess it wouldn't hurt to fit in some extra practice." Izzy agreed calmly. Play it cool Izz. Play it cool. She thought fighting the grin that was tugging ferociously at her lips. It was no use. Less than a second after she had spoken her face was set alight by the happiest grin ever seen. Way to play it cool Isabelle! 

"Hey Mamma Fogarty. We were just wondering if Sami was up for a sparring session? Ali promised to teach us some of her moves since we did so well with our science project!" Izzy asked politely. Handing the tall, dark skinned woman a large box of cookies. 

"You my dear, have perfect timing. They're just round the back sparring now." Mamma Fogarty smiled pointing the girls in the direction of their friends. "He does this every time he gets into a scuffle."

"Thank you Mamma Fogarty. Enjoy the cookies!" The girls called jogging around the corner to find Sami trapped in a headlock with Fangs ruffling up her already frizzy hair.

"SWEEP HIS KNEE AND SLAM INTO HIS SIDE TO KNOCK HIM OVER!" Ali instructed. Laughing at the panicked expression that flicked over Fangs' face as he crashed into the long grass beneath him. 

"Nice job kiddo. That'll teach him for messing with the hair!" Ali grinned coming to a halt beside Fangs. Looking down and waving sarcastically down at him.

"You're such an ass sometimes Ali. Did you know that?" Fangs mocked grabbing the back of her knees and heaving them towards him sending Ali toppling over. Pulling a nervous squeak from her as she landed heavily beside him.

"Ali said she's going to teach us some of her special moves. Want to join?" Izzy grinned re-plaiting Sam's wild, untameable hair. 

"Oh cool! Can you teach us the arm swing thing? The one where you grab their arm and pull yourself to wrap around their shoulder? Can we learn that one?" Sam asked eagerly, an enthusiastic beaming glow flooding her face.

"If Fangs is up for helping then hell yes. It's one of my favourites!" Ali winked helping Fangs to his feet. The boy sighed heavily but nodded in agreement. A dark bruise already making its presence on his face known from the spot Ali had kicked him the night before. Sorry Fangs! Ali thought getting a clear view of the full extent of his injuries. 

"You sure you're up for it, you look like shit!" Ali remarked as they got into position.

"Shut up Ali. I look like shit 'cos I got in a fight last night. You just look like shit!" He quipped with a cheeky grin. "At least I have an excuse!"

"Fuck you Fangs. I was going to go easy on you. But now you're just asking to get your ass whooped!" Ali defended playfully. Unaware of the extra pair of eyes observing from the cover of the surrounding trees.

Izzy and Sam watched eagerly as Ali took them step by step through the move. Allowing them to practice on her first so she could give them the necessary pointers before they practiced on Fangs. For someone who'd had recently had his ass kicked he showed no signs of weakness. If anything, it looked like he was enjoying the extra practice. Even getting to practice the move and try out a few counter-moves on Ali. 

The girls had just finished perfecting their third new move when the figure that had been watching from the shadows decided to come forwards into the light.

"This looks like fun. Mind if I join in?" The voice called gruffly.

"SWEET PEA!" Izzy cheered running over to throw her arms around his waist in a hug. 

"Of course you can! The more the merrier!" She beamed skipping back alongside him, making his face crack into the smallest of smiles. 

"Can I try out the new moves Ali taught me on you?"

"Sure kid. Let's see what you've got!" Sweet Pea agreed. Bracing himself ready to be thrown, pushed and pulled to the ground. Grunting and groaning with each landing and giving the little girl pointers where possible.

"Hey, now that Sweet Pea's here you can show us how to defend against two opponents." Sam piped up, looking hopefully up at the older trio stood in front of her. Fangs shrugged, nodding in agreement turning to Sweet Pea awaiting his answer.

"I'm up for it if Ali is. We're all friends here." Sweet Pea paused turning to Ali, a knowing look in his eye. 

"Aren't we Ali?" He finished, twitching an eyebrow at her daringly.

"Yeah sure, why not?" Ali smiled nodding in agreement. 

"What could possibly go wrong!" She muttered sarcastically under her breath moving into position, ready to be attacked by the two boys for the second time in less than 24 hours. This time it was Sweet Pea to make the first move. Lunging forward to sweep her leg. Ali jumped out the way just in time. Grabbing his arm and using it to pull herself up to wrap around his chest trapping his arm between her powerful legs. Twisting herself to the side using her body weight to hurl the giant into his friend knocking the pair down like a set of bowling pins.

"That was awesome!" The two girls cheered giving the boys and Ali a round of applause as they got to their feet. 

"Could've done with this yesterday huh Sweet Pea." Fangs joked helping Sam perfect her stance and hold on Ali.

"Took the words right out my mouth." Sweet Pea muttered scowling suspiciously at Ali. 

This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea! Ali cringed.

"What happened yesterday?" Sam asked curiously, helping Ali back to her feet ready for Izzy's turn. Ali felt the question slam into her like a bus. This couldn't get any worse.

"Caught someone breaking into serpent territory late last night and got our ass kicked by crazy Ninja moves like these." Fangs sighed defeatedly, the disgust of his defeat evident in his voice.

"Reckon they just got lucky." Sweet Pea baited glancing slyly over at Ali, registering the eye roll she gave his comment.

"I don't know Bean Pole. They certainly managed to give you a rather nasty black eye." She replied flicking her eyes over the deep purple bruise spreading over his eye. Her gaze breaking as she hurtled towards Fangs by Izzy's forceful swing. Ali coughed a little as she sat up feeling slightly winded, accepting the hand being offered to her. Regretting it almost immediately when Sweet Pea heaved her up pulling her uncomfortably close to him as he leant to whisper in her ear. Placing something in her hand.

"You've got some explaining to do!" He whispered glancing down to the silver writing embossed on the pale blue lock picking kit in her hand that read 'H.M'. Ali swallowed hard in a desperate attempt to drown the panic that had risen in her throat. It just got worse.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ali replied casually. Stepping back smiling her signature smile and moving ready to teach the girls another move. The group spent the next few hours practicing moves and counter moves. With Sweet Pea keeping a very close eye on Ali.

"Ok, if you boys don't say it I will." Ali panted lying on her back in the long grass. Her cheeks flushed and head sweaty. "I'm absolutely shattered. Everything hurts and if I don't eat something soon, I'm afraid I'll eat Fangs." Ali half joked as her stomach gave a low grumble, making the team chuckle.

"Hey why me? Why not Sweet Pea? He's much bigger than me!" Fangs questioned sounding rather hurt by her suggestion, turning on his side to face his exhausted friend.

"Sweet Peas are poisonous. I'm starving not stupid. Sorry Fangs." Ali replied sympathetically before looking him over and licking her lips mockingly.

"Right Pop's it is. We can take the truck. Ali you can catch a lift with the poisonous plant. I don't feel safe being in a confined space with you right now." Fangs laughed rising to his feet and fetching his jacket and keys from the pile by the trailer.

"Come on Ali, the sooner you eat the better. You look like hell." Sweet Pea teased offering her a hand up. Scowling when she slapped his hand away.

"Last time you did that it was a trap!" Ali scorned struggling to pull her lifeless limbs into action.

"Just take the help Ali. It's becoming painful to watch." Sweet Pea coaxed smirking at her repeated failed attempts of standing. Ali huffed but took his hand only to heave him to the ground. Smiling smugly at his unamused expression.

"There, now you don't have to watch!" Ali chirped happily, rolling onto her hands and knees so she could scramble up leaving Sweet Pea in the grass. "I'll leave you here if you want."

"Oh yeah and how are you going to leave when I have your keys?" Sweet Pea asked smugly. Jingling a set of keys with a bright blue letter A hanging from them. Ali’s eyes squinting irritably for a second. Quickly returning to its previous proudly smug expression, throwing Sweet Pea completely.

"Simple," Ali chimed smugly. "I'll take yours!" She grinned waving his own set of keys back at him. 

"You're dead!" He growled playfully, leaping to his feet and grabbing Ali's waist before she could make a run for it. Throwing her over his shoulder and swiping the keys from her hand. 

"Did you just squeak like a mouse? Ali-Cat, more like Field Mouse!" Sweet Pea scoffed carrying her over to his trailer where his bike was parked.

"I'll dig my claws in if you carry on insulting me like that!" Ali threatened playfully. Trying to wiggle her way out of his grip.

"Oh no you don't. Not after that comment. You can stay there and think about what you've said!" Sweet Pea scolded slapping her ass hard as he spoke. Smirking when she squeaked at the contact.

"That's fine I've got something to keep me occupied anyway." Ali teased resting her head in her hands to stare at his ass.

"Harley Masters, are you staring at my ass?" Sweet Pea inquired playfully. Waving to Jughead who was watching in confusion as they passed his trailer. Ali's eyes flew wide open and her heart rate increased tenfold at her full name. How did he know. She immediately began trying to swing out of his hold. But he had her in a firm, unbreakable grip.

"How the-? What in the Hell did you just say?!" Ali demanded. Her brows knitted into a furious blend of panic and confusion.

"You heard!" Sweet Pea replied smugly placing her on the back of his bike and handing her his spare helmet. 

"Izzy told me all about your nickname. About how it took you ages before you could pronounce your R's properly. How you used to say Haly instead of Harley." Sweet Pea teased putting his helmet on.

"That's what you meant earlier." Ali exclaimed. "You seriously confused me!" 

"Ali what are you talking about?" Sweet Pea asked frowning.

"When you said I had some explaining to do..." Ali trailed off, avoiding Sweet Pea's leg as he swung himself on in front of her.

"Oh that. I already know what the H.M stands for. What I don't know is why you broke into Peabody's place. Hold on tight!" He called not giving Ali a chance to reply. Speeding off just as she wrapped her arms around his waist. The feeling of her hands clinging to his shirt made it very hard to concentrate as he whipped and weaved his way to Pops. Ali's mind to busy racing with an endless list of possibilities to notice what she was doing to him. What does this mean? Are Mum and Izzy going to get beaten up? Killed? Did he tell her? How did he know? What have I done? Why am I still on his bike? She felt like her mind was about to explode. 

By the time they arrived at Pops she was in full panic mode. Pulling off her helmet to reveal her bloodless face. Panic overwhelming her eyes. Sweet Peas eyes widened when he saw the fear coursing through her body sending her into small scale convulsions. Making her very uneasy on her feet when she climbed gingerly off his bike. Her centre of balance was so uneasy, he had to catch her before she fell over. Helping her back over to lean on his bike for support. 

"Ali relax I'm not going to say anything. I just want to know why. Nothings going to happen. Hell, I'm even willing to look past the fact that you pulled a knife on me." He comforted rubbing her back and pulling her into a gentle hug.

"You sure you're not going to tell Penny?" Ali asked tentatively. She wasn't so worried for herself they could do what they wanted with her. As long as they left her family out of it. 

"And you're not mad about the knife?" She looked up hesitantly up feeling ridiculously pathetic.

"The knife? No that was just self defence. The black eye however... that, I'm going to be coming back too." He joked stroking her hair, looking deep into her puppy eye's. Feeling his heart melt with every second she was with him. Ali scowled giving him a playful shove and standing up straight again.

"I found out what she was making my Uncle do and we can't afford to get caught up in anything. So I figured if she didn't have anything on him then she couldn't black mail him anymore." Ali explained, technically she hadn't lied. Just not told the whole truth.

"And you thought that was the night to do it?" He asked as they made their way into Pops. Smiling at the familiar ring of the bell as they entered.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Fangs called dramatically as the pair joined the group at the booth in the far corner. 

"I've been stuck listening to reruns of how I got my ass kicked yesterday. And this morning!" Fangs scowled crossing his arms and turning his nose away like a drama queen.

"Man up Fangs! You're turning into a Northsider. Got your ass kicked twice in less than 24 hours and now your acting like a spoilt brat. Carry on like this and you'll be joining Ali for cheerleading practice!" Sweet Pea sassed slumping down beside his best friend.

"Ouch Sweet Pea. Even I felt the sting on that." Ali exclaimed smiling at Pops when he handed the group their milkshakes.

"You were supposed to. Cheerleaders are just preppy little bitches. It's pathetic really. All you do is bounce around grinning all the time." Sweet Pea mocked with a smirk.

"Oh yeah. I'd like to see you throw a human being in the air and catch them without damaging them, yourself and looking amazing whilst doing all that." Ali defended raising a daring eyebrow at the Serpent. 

"Thank you, Izzy, for ordering for us. It was very nice of you." She smiled turning to her little sister who was watching intently whilst she slurped her chocolate milkshake.

"No worries, but how did you know it was me?" She questioned.

"You're the only one crazy enough to tolerate spending enough time with these clowns to know their order." Sam and Fangs elaborated in chorus before bursting into hysterics at their perfect sync.

"What can I say?" Izzy shrugged nonchalantly. A playful twinkle beaming in her eyes. 

"I've got clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right. Here I am. Stuck in the middle of you!" She sang motioning either side of her to the rest of the group making everyone laugh and Ali choke on her drink. The group watched in frozen horror for moment as Ali battled against the desperate force trying to spit her drink. But after a moment struggle, she swallowed the drink with ease.

"At least now we know Ali doesn’t spit she swallows." Fangs commented nonchalantly sending everyone into another fit of giggles. 

Pops placed their order on the table once they had all calmed down. Giving Ali and Sweet Pea a knowing glance before handing Izzy a 10-dollar bill. 

"What was that?" Ali asked suspiciously before taking a large bite of her burger. Her gaze fixed on her little sister as she tucked the money into the arm pocket of her jacket.

"Nothing just tip money." She shrugged innocently. But Ali knew there was something else going on. She was her sister after all. 

"Uh huh sure it is." Ali nodded sarcastically before several waving hands caught her eye distracting her. Sweet Pea saw the focus completely disappear from her face the second the waving hands caught her attention and couldn't help but laugh.

"Is she always like this?" He asked watching as she ushered the group over to the table.

"Like what?" Izzy questioned through a mouthful of cheese burger.

"Easily distracted." He elaborated before scowling at Ali as she shuffled him over to the wall so Jughead, Betty and Cheryl could join. 

"Only when she’s trying to ignore something at the back of her mind." Izzy replied truthfully. She knew exactly what was playing on Ali's mind. The only problem? Ali didn't. 

The group spent the rest of the evening debating over the black hood and enjoying milkshakes, cheesy bites and fries. Ignoring the lingering unanswered questions and looming cloud of doom making its way closer and closer to their side of town.

"You'll never guess what's happened!" Cheryl exclaimed the second Ali took her seat in Chemistry making her jump a little.

"Oh god! What happened? Did Archie do another stupid thing again?" Ali moaned with a heavy sigh, unaware of the person sat behind them.

"Hey! What did I do to you?!" Archie gasped throwing a ball of paper at her head in mock offense. 

"OUCH!" Ali cried sarcastically. A smirk spreading across her red lips as she threw it back. 

"Sorry Arch but you have been a dumb ass lately." Ali replied before turning back to Cheryl who looked as if she was about to burst.

"Southside High got shut down so now the scumbag Snakes are being sent here!" She raged making several students jump at her sudden outburst. The thought of the serpents coming to Riverdale High sent butterflies to her stomach and she couldn't figure out why. Some of them were her friends sure but that wouldn't cause this surely? Cheryl's continuous bitching pulled Ali from her daze.

"Chill Cheryl, they aren't that bad. You got along with Fangs and Sweet Pea sort of. Ali grimaced a little at her words and the memory of Cheryl hanging out with her and the Serpents at Pops. Everything is going to be fine." Ali reassured her but she knew that come the next day, it would all go sideways. Chaos would rain down on them all. 

Cheryl spent the rest of the day whining about the Serpents and how they were going to ruin the school. It was after all, a sanctuary from her home life.

"Oh God. Why do you like the cat that ate the canary?" Ali groaned when she walked into the girls changing room. Only to discover the Vixens already in gear and rallied with Cheryl who was looking very pleased with herself. 

"Because my dear Ali-Cat, me and Reggie have come up with a solution to our little dilemma." Cheryl chirped before heading out with the rest of the cheerleading squad in quick procession.

"Oh, dear god! Of all people why Reggie?" Ali whined as she quickly threw on her cheerleading uniform. Chasing after the team of preppy teens about to pick a fight with the biggest gang in town as soon as she was dressed. 

"Too late." Ali huffed as she darted down the corridor to where Cheryl and Toni were standing toe to toe. She was just about to jump in to defend the Southsiders. To at least give them a chance but Principle Wetherbee beat her too it. Cheryl and Reggie lead their crowd of puppets away whilst Jughead led the Southsiders down the corridor to the common room, passing Ali as they went. 

"I told you when it came down to it, she was a Northsider." Sweet Pea muttered to Fangs as they passed her. His eyes scanning her uniform as they passed. 

That rat bastard! The little git thinks I'm siding with Cheryl! Ali gasped internally, watching as they disappeared around the corner.

It didn't take long for Ali to find an opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of the Serpents. She was sat in the cafeteria talking to Varchie and Bughead about the happenings over the holidays. Laughing at the awful puns Jughead kept adding in. He seemed to be happy for the first time in a while and Ali hoped this would last forever. Queue Reggie and his team of meat heads.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He snarled as the Bulldogs slowly surrounded the leather bound, snake tatted table. 

"This can't be anything good." Ali grumbled before standing up and strolling casually over to the table. Watching as Sweet Pea's jaw clenched, his fists balled up to the point where his knuckles were turning white. 

"Back off mutt. We don't want your fleas." Sweet Pea snarled squaring up to Reggie. His gaze stone cold as he stared down the preppy jock.

"Really Reginald? This is what you do with your spare time? Pick fights with poisonous flowers?" Ali sighed looking very unamused as she pushed herself between the two testosterone fuelled boys. 

"Stand down Mantle the Magnificent before you become Mantle the Mauled to death." She warned feeling rather annoyed at his arrogance. 

"And you can wipe the smug grin off your face too Sweet Pea. Picking a fight on the first day isn't a very clever start is it?" Ali called him out without even needing to turn around to see his smug expression. His heart was racing faster than he thought possible and he couldn't believe his eyes. 

"Sorry Princess did we disrupt your fine dining?" Sweet Pea quipped giving her a smirk and a wink as he sat back down in his chair. He could never pass up the opportunity to tease her. Ali rolled her eyes at his silly little remark and turned to leave. But just as she was about to, a large warm hand wrapped around her wrist pulling her backwards. 

"You look good in that uniform you should wear it more often." Sweet Pea whispered, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke flooding her body with butterflies. His hand was warm against her skin and she could feel the heat radiating off his muscular body. He released her hand allowing her to stand up straight. Only to grab her hands and pull her closer again. 

"Ali you're freezing." He claimed his voice filled with genuine concern as he searched her eyes. She smiled her usual bright smile shaking her head with a light chuckle.

"Pea I'm always like this. You're just freakishly warm." Ali smiled pulling her hands away and turning to walk back to her table. As for the uniform My eyes are up here, so keep them there. She warned playfully pointing to her smoky eye shadow and bright blue eyes.

"Wait!" Sweet Pea instructed stopping her in her tracks. She turned around slowly to see why he had stopped her from going back to her friends again. 

"You're going to freeze to death, and I need you to do a paint job on my bike later. This should keep you warm." Sweet Pea stated pulling a large black hoodie from his bag and handing it to Ali. Who only put it on after a stern raise of his eyebrow. 

With a reluctant huff she made her way back to her table. Who does this kid think he is? I don't need his charity.

#riverdale #riverdaleedit #riverdale serpents #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fic #riverdale imagine #southside serpents #sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #bad boy sweet pea #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea imagine #toni topaz #cheryl x toni #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie andrews #archie x veronica #cheryl bombshell

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Love

Chapter 7 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! Find the previous chapters here on Tumblr. 

In which Fenris and Rynne deal with the aftermath of their impromptu night together. Beware le texting and le angst... 😞

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8:52am - hey so 8:52am - you just went to get coffee right? 8:52am - bc you should know i dont like it lol 8:52am - chai for me plz~

10:11am - seriously though are you coming back?

1:08pm - honestly what the fuck 1:08pm - i didn't take YOU for a fuckboy 1:09pm - i mean i’m an idiot but i didn’t think i was that stupid

1:35pm - i take that back 1:35pm - i just realized you might have gotten hit by a car or sth 1:36pm - which i RELLY hope didn’t happen 1:36pm - really*** 1:36pm - just let me know if you need blood bc i’m a universal donor lol

2:46pm - Fenris. please. just talk to me

Rynne tossed her phone on the coffee table and dragged her hands through her hair, then nervously patted it back into place. She picked up the half-eaten piece of toast she’d made this morning and took a bite, then listlessly rose from the couch and carried the cold toast back to the kitchen to throw it out.

She just couldn’t understand it. Fenris was so wonderful last night, sexy and slow and attentive, holding her close until she fell asleep. And the words he’d said, those gorgeous tender words that he’d poured in her ear…

Rynne couldn’t reconcile that man with the one who had left her alone at some unspecified hour of the morning and who was now ghosting her so brutally.

She flicked the kettle on and toyed idly with her earrings as she waited for it to boil. Then, unable to resist the horrible temptation, she went back to the living room and picked up her phone.

She tapped into her messages and stared at the increasingly desperate string of unanswered texts she’d sent to him, then closed the app and slumped onto the couch. She really wished someone else was home right now. Rynne had never been particularly good at sitting alone with her feelings, and the feelings she was having now… Maker’s balls, they were fucking painful. It felt like a cold, heavy rock had been shoved right behind her sternum, and she could really use a friendly distraction.

Maybe he really did just get held up, she thought. Ran into someone he knew in Lowtown, or… or got arrested for being too sexy, or… Shit, she was really grasping at straws here to find an excuse for him. Any complicated excuse would do, because any excuse was better than the simple and likely truth.

It was a one-night stand. He doesn’t really want you.

She tugged at her ear until it started to hurt. Then she heard the click of the kettle turning off. She rose to her feet and went to pour herself some tea, but before she could do more than pick out a teabag, the intercom chimed.

Rynne dropped the teabag and ran to the intercom, then slammed her finger on the button. “Hello?”

There was a brief moment of silence, then his voice grumbled through the speaker. “Hawke? It’s… it’s me.”

“Come on up,” she replied, and she hit the buzzer. “Thank fuck,” she exclaimed out loud to the empty condo, then she ran to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t look as much of a wreck as she felt.

A minute later, the doorbell rang, and Rynne pulled open the door.

Fenris was frowning.

Her stomach instantly plummeted. Fuck, she thought. She laughed nervously as she let him in. “You’re just in time!” she said. “I was making tea. I’m glad you’re not dead, by the way. I was about to call the emergency room at Andraste General and see if the most handsome man in Thedas happened to have been admitted-”

“Hawke,” he said quietly.

She froze for a moment at the gravity of his tone, then breezed into the kitchen. “Do you want tea?” she asked. “Or maybe coffee instead? You take it black with a little sugar, right?”

“That’s - yes, that’s right. But no thank you. Hawke-”

She looked up at him with an empty mug in her hands. “You sure? It’s no trouble. I can make approximately five things in the kitchen and coffee is one of-”

He placed one tattooed palm on the kitchen counter. “Hawke, I… I cannot do this. It should never have happened in the first place. Forgive me.”

She stared at him dumbly, unable to breathe around the foolish hopes that were clogging her lungs and her throat.

Finally she drew a painful breath peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You came back here just to tell me that? That this is over?”

He tucked his hand back into his pocket and took a small step back. “Yes. I’m sorry-”

“Bullshit,” she exclaimed. “I don’t believe you.” She put the mug down and made her way around the kitchen counter to approach him.

He backed away from her with his hands in his pockets, and Rynne tried hard to ignore the fresh lance of hurt that speared her in the chest. She took another deep breath and folded her arms. “Come on, Fenris, what’s really going on here?”

“Nothing is going on,” he said. “I was drunk. We both were. It was a mistake, and it cannot happen again.”

A painful lump appeared in her throat, but she swallowed it down. His words were classic brush-off fuckboy fodder, and if Piper were here, she would have cheerfully told him to fuck off and take his tiny prick with him.

But Pipes wasn’t here. And somehow, for some reason, Rynne didn’t believe that Fenris was just using her for sex. She might be an overly optimistic idiot, but the things he’d said last night were still ringing in her ears.

I didn’t think I needed anyone or wanted anyone. Until now. Fenris didn’t speak idle words, and he wasn’t the kind of man who would say such things lightly. Rynne would never forget it, and she was absolutely certain he hadn’t forgotten it either.

“Alcohol is no excuse,” she said, as matter-of-factly as she could. “By the time you had me naked, you weren’t drunk anymore. And I wasn’t either.” She peered at him. “You can talk to me without blowing me off, you know. Listening and fucking aren’t mutually exclusive.”

His expression crumpled with discomfort as she spoke. He scratched the back of his neck and darted a glance at the door, and Rynne held her breath as she waited for him to respond. Maybe she’d come on too strong. Was this going to drive him away for good?

Finally he blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his snowy hair. “Are we alone?” he asked.

She relaxed slightly. That was a good sign. “Yes, it’s just us,” she said. “What’s going on?”

He gripped his hair for a moment longer, then lifted his gaze to her face. “I have not been entirely honest with you,” he said. “I… I have not left the world of Tevinter crime behind.”

A jolt of horror made her widen her eyes. “Y-you mean… you’re still working as a-?”

“No,” Fenris said hastily. “No, it is not that. I…” He sighed and seated himself gingerly on the arm of the couch. “I didn’t come to Kirkwall to start a new life. I came here to bide my time.”

She took a tentative step closer to him. “What does that mean?”

“I was... well-known, shall we say, in the more disreputable circles in Tevinter,” he said slowly. “My departure was not as tidy as I made it sound. Danarius has not stopped hunting me. And I will not be hounded by him any longer.”

His expression was cold and fierce. Rynne took a deep breath. Her chest was jangling with anxiety at what he was implying, but she needed him to spell it out.

She rubbed her chilly arms. “What exactly does that mean?” she whispered.

Fenris continued to gaze steadily at her. “It means that I will kill him,” he said baldly. “When the time is right, I will lure Danarius out of Tevinter, and I will kill him, and any men he brings along with him.”

Rynne gaped at him, speechless and dumb with shock at the starkness of his words. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so shocked; he had told her he’d worked as an enforcer, after all. But somehow, Rynne hadn’t really seen it.

This wasn’t to say she didn’t believe him. She absolutely believed he was capable of incapacitating someone who deserved it. She would never forget the sight of him holding his knife to the throat of that guy who’s attacked her behind the Hanged Man. But somehow, in her naive little mind, she’d managed to separate that cold, brutal fighter from the smart, smirking, sympathetic man who worked with her at the pub.

Multifaceted indeed, she thought numbly. He was intelligent, well-spoken, polite… and a self-proclaimed killer who was planning to kill more people still.

She realized her silence had stretched on too long when Fenris nodded sharply and rose from the couch. “You understand the problem,” he said. “This… liaison can go no further. There is no future for you in all of this.”

He took a purposeful step toward the door. Before she could stop to think, Rynne darted in front of him. “Why don’t you just not kill Danarius?” she blurted.

He stared at her as though she’d said something absurd. “What?”

“Don’t kill him,” Rynne said urgently. “Just go on with your life. You know what they say: the best revenge is a life well lived.”

Fenris scowled. “Spoken like a person who has never been truly wronged,” he said acidly. “I will not wait passively to be found. There always comes a time when you must stop running - when you turn and face the tiger.”

“And there are times when you have to reconsider your plans so you don’t go to jail!” Rynne exclaimed. “What in the Void are you thinking will happen after you kill Danarius?”

Fenris shrugged and glanced at the door. “It doesn’t matter. I will be gone by then.”

Rynne raised her eyebrows. “So after you… after you carry out this plan of yours, you’re just going to leave. That’s it?”

Fenris finally seemed to lose his patience: he glared at her so fiercely that she took an instinctive step away from him. “Yes,” he snapped. “When this is done, I will leave this place and I will be satisfied that I’ve removed at least a scrap of miserable darkness from this world.”

Rynne’s heart was beating an anxious rhythm in her throat. She’d never seen him look so angry. She reached tremulously for his hand. “Fenris-”

He jerked his hand away from her touch. “You don’t understand,” he hissed. “You don’t know what they’ve done to me. The duplicity and the tattoos, the - the lyrium and the fucking lies-”

Rynne took a step forward and boldly grabbed his hand. He tried to pull away, but she squeezed his hand firmly in both of hers. “Fenris,” she said breathlessly, “I want to understand. Just - help me understa-”

“They set me up, all right?” he shouted. “I attempted to leave when they tried to bring Varania into the business. Danarius said one last job, and I would be free. But they set me up. Beat me to within an inch of my life, killed my mother and my sister, and told me it was a rival gang who did the job. I couldn’t remember what had happened, so I believed them.”

His fingers were cold and clenched, and Rynne’s chest felt just as clenched, tight with an aching and horrified sympathy. “And the tattoos?” she whispered.

He bowed his head and ran his free hand through his hair. “When I healed from my wounds, they… encouraged me to get the tattoos. Show my fealty to Danarius. And I agreed. I thought I had nothing left to live for, with my family dead and gone. And…” He swallowed hard, then lifted his face once more, and Rynne’s throat swelled at the distress in his face.

“I asked for lyrium,” he rasped. “While the tattoos were healing. I requested it. I… I demanded it.”

“Oh, Fenris,” Rynne breathed. She squeezed his forearm, then reached up and cradled his neck. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this-”

He reached up and pulled her hands away. “Are you not listening?” he demanded. “I asked for lyrium. I begged them to rub that filthy salve on my skin while the tattoos were healing. Then the salve became the shots, and…” He rubbed his face tiredly. “I was addicted to it for years, Hawke. That was a curse of my own making.”

Rynne frowned. He’d become an addict via lyrium salve? That didn’t seem right. Rynne wasn’t a doctor by any means, but she knew quite a bit about how lyrium was absorbed, and lyrium salve was the least potent form. It could even be used on children in small doses.

But this didn’t seem the time to point it out. And Fenris wasn’t finished talking. “You are right about one thing,” he said. “This is not entirely my fault. It’s Danarius’s fault: Danarius and his entire snivelling, power-hungry clan of criminals. And I won’t find a moment’s peace until he is dead.”

Rynne forced herself to breathe calmly. All this talk of death, of Fenris killing someone, and the thought of him getting caught and locked away for something that could so easily be avoided… It was almost enough to make her panic.

She forced another careful inhale. “How long has it been since you were in Tevinter?” she asked.

His scowl lessened somewhat. “Two years and nine months, give or take. Why do you ask?”

“And you’ve been running from Danarius ever since?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Why else do you think I only just arrived in Kirkwall?”

Rynne took a deep breath. This next question was crucial. “Did you ever… did you kill any of his people in that time?”

“No,” he said tersely. “I avoided them. I have been trying to keep a low profile, as you well know.”

His response was accusatory, but Rynne didn’t mind; she released a little sigh of relief. “So let’s go to the police,” she said. “The Kirkwall police are very fair. Aveline Vallen, the police captain, she’s a friend - not that that would make her go easy on anyone or anything, she’s so scrupulous it’s nearly annoying, but - and Cullen! Cullen would absolutely be willing to help. We can just-”

“No,” Fenris said loudly. “No police, and no lawyers. I will - this is not your problem.” He edged around her and moved toward the door. “I have already told you far more than you should know. I will deal with this on my own.”

Rynne planted herself firmly in front of the door. “Fenris, you can’t do this,” she said desperately. “It’s too dangerous, and if you get caught-”

He took an angry step closer to her. “And what would you have me do?” he snarled. “Hawke, I have never had the option to simply walk away. They chased me every step of the way. I’ve settled nowhere for longer than five months. Am I supposed to forgive, no matter how many times they hunt me down? Am I supposed to forget all the things they’ve done to me?”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” Rynne retorted. She tried hard to keep the tremor from her voice. “I’m just saying you don’t have to kill him! There has to be another way to make them get what they-”

“Stop trying to change my mind!” he shouted suddenly. “You don’t know what it is to live under the weight of such ghosts!”

Rynne snapped her mouth shut and raised her eyebrows. After what she’d told him, what he knew about her life, he was going to tell her she knew nothing about living with ghosts?

Fenris glared at her for a moment, but his expression seemed to melt as he stared at her face. He scraped his hands through his hair. “I do not mean that,” he said quietly. “I… that was thoughtless of me. It was not my intention to minimize-”

“There has to be something else we can do,” Rynne interrupted. Her throat was aching from his verbal onslaught, but that wasn’t important now. Stopping him from committing murder was more important than her hurt feelings. “You talk like you don’t have a choice, but you do. You don’t have to be the guy who - who kills people to solve problems,” she insisted. She reached out and gently squeezed his bicep. “You’re more than just the most handsome enforcer the Tevinter mob ever had,” she said, with a tiny hopeful smile. “You aren’t that person anymore. I know that can’t be what you want.”

He gazed at her in silence, and the softness in his eyes made her heart beat with hope.

Then his words dashed it all away. “You’re wrong,” he said softly. “There is nothing I want more than to see Danarius dead.”

His gently spoken words were like a punch to her gut. Rynne stared at him with rising misery, at his savage and beautiful face with those brilliant green eyes of his, and the way they seemed to shine more brightly than usual.

He dropped his gaze and peeled her fingers from his arm, then carefully pushed her away from the door.

“Don’t go,” she blurted. She impatiently wiped a stupid, desperate tear from her cheek. “Please don’t go.”

He opened the door, then turned back to face her once more. “If you decide to go to the police-”

“I’m not going to the fucking police behind your back,” Rynne interrupted. She reached for him again. “Fenris, please…”

He pulled away and put his hands in his pockets. “If you do, I would not blame you. You did not ask to get involved in this. I would ask only that you tell me when you do. Give me a head start, at the very least.”

She shook her head and wiped her face. She could feel her face getting puffy and swollen already. “I’m not going to the police,” she repeated fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? When you come to your fucking senses, I’m going to be right here.”

Fenris stared at her for a moment longer. Then he pulled up his hood and left.

Rynne stepped into the doorway and watched as he strode toward the elevator with his shoulders hunched and his hands hidden in his pockets. He stepped into the elevator without looking back.

Once he was gone, Rynne went back inside. She closed the door quietly behind her, then went to the kitchen and turned the kettle on. She stood frozen in the kitchen while the kettle boiled, and when the switch flicked off, she picked up her abandoned teabag and her abandoned mug and poured the water over the tea.

She leaned woodenly against the counter and waited dumbly for the tea to steep. Then she heard the click of the front door lock.

“Hey bitches! Anybody home?” Piper’s chipper voice drifted into the condo, followed a moment later by Piper herself. Her tattooed face was wreathed in a smile, but it disappeared instantly when she stepped into the kitchen.

Piper dropped her phone and her purse on the kitchen counter and grabbed Rynne’s arm. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

Rynne looked at her. “Do you want to watch The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo with me?”

Piper’s face fell even more. “Oh fuck. What did he do?” She glared toward the living room as though Fenris might be hiding there. “Where is he? I’ll shank him. I’ll cut him a new asshole if you want.”

Rynne laughed. The sentiment would have made her laugh no matter what, but the irony of it - the idea of anyone trying to cut Fenris, knowing now what Rynne knew of his past…

She snorted with amusement, and a hot tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away and burst out another hysterical snicker, and all of a sudden she was crying, crying like a fucking baby, and all she could hope was that her face wouldn’t be all ugly and swollen by the time they had to go to work tonight.

Piper’s wiry little arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and Rynne sobbed grossly into Piper’s wild mass of hair. Within minutes, Piper had her ensconced on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands and a warm throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was playing while Piper cheerfully suggested fast-forwarding to the bit where Lisbeth got her revenge on the vile corrupt caseworker.

Rynne leaned her head on Piper’s shoulder as Piper offered her a bag of popcorn and chattered happily about doing a David Fincher movie marathon tomorrow. I love you, Rynne thought fondly to her friend.

If only love was always so easy.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern au #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

[rosesisupposes]

“i’m with you to the end” for royality?? (eyes emoji)

The quote is just so close to Winter Soldier, so may I present: the Captain America Royality AU

Protective/Loyal Prompts

word count: 1,342pairing: Royalitywarnings: fighting, blood, brainwashing,reader tags: @residentanchor @royally-anxious@bewarethegrammarpolice  @jemthebookworm@arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @notveryglittery [it’s royality

read on ao3

The streets of 1930s Brooklyn weren’t kind to many - only the richest, most upper-crust were able to weather the Depression without their cheeks becoming a bit more gaunt and their belts tightening a notch or two. Desperation, or maybe resignation that times might never improve, drove many to a level of cruelty they would have never considered in more prosperous circumstances.

But not everyone felt that way.

“No need for trouble, miss. Just hand over the bag and we all go about our days, nice and easy.”

“Please, just let me go, my family needs this-”

“Yeah, join the club. Or the breadline, I don’t care which. Just hand it over before I need to do something I might regret.”

The knife in the man’s hand had seen better days before it was sharpened so thin, just as his coat had been high-quality once before overuse had worn it threadbare. The woman he threatened was in no better condition, with matching holes in her gloves and hose. She clutched the small grocery bag to her chest as she trembled, eyes huge with fear.

“My boy, he’s sick,” she said, voice choking up. “He’s so fragile, he can’t wait in the breadline, and they won’t let me take extra to him…”

“Cry me a river,” snapped her attacker. “You think you’re the only one with a sob story?”

“The lady asked you to step back,” a new voice rang out. “I suggest you listen to her.”

The man with the knife turned and started to laugh. A smaller man stood at the entrance to the alley, glaring fiercely as he held up his fists. He was skinny, but in the way that said he’d always been so, not just since food became more scarce. He was also almost a foot shorter than the man he was challenging.

“What’re you gonna do, pipsqueak?” he said with a snort. “Bite my ankles? Tickle my knees? Get out of here, before I make you.”

The smaller man said nothing, but edged closer, fists at the ready. The armed man rolled his eyes and turned fully, brandishing his knife. Sandy blonde hair fell into the short man’s eyes as he feinted a swing at the big man’s head, prompting a retaliatory swing of the knife in his general direction. But he’d anticipated it, and grabbed the arm as it whooshed past him. He managed to knock the knife away as the unencumbered arm landed a punch on his cheek.

He reeled back, bringing his fists up to guard his face again. He tried to hit back, but his swing was knocked away easily as the bigger man landed another blow with his dominant hand, knocking him to the ground. He scrambled back up, grabbing a trash can lid as a shield. Curling his lip in derision, the mugger pulled it out of his hands and used his lack of balance to hit him down again.

“Had enough yet?”

“I could do this all day,” the smaller man gasped, lip bleeding. He glanced behind him and saw with pleasure that the lady had made her escape. He swung and missed again.

“Hey, pick on someone your own size!” a new voice called out. The mugger spun, only to receive a punch to the face by a new man, one who outstripped him in height and build. Intimidated by his size, the mugger fled.

The small man braced his arms on his knees as he caught his breath. “Thanks,” he gasped. “But I had it under control.”

“Of course you did, kiddo. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like getting punched. What was it this time?”

“He was mugging a woman for her food.”

The big man hugged the smaller man, enveloping him in his muscular arms. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself in harm’s way, but you’ve got a good heart, Ro.”

Roman leaned into the hug. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Now let’s get you home, and cleaned up.”

The two men walked back through dingy streets and narrow alleys before arriving at a brownstone. “You know,” Pat started.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Roman grumbled, searching for his apartment key.

“You could come upstairs, we could put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were little. It could be fun!”

“Thank you, Pat,” the short man said, looking up at his oldest friend. “But I can get by on my own.”

“I know you can, Ro. You’re the toughest guy I know. The thing is, you don’t have to. I’m with you to the end, kiddo.”

Roman swallowed back the threat of tears. “Thanks, Patton.”

The grating of metal and harsh thump of explosions rattled around them as the helicarrier slowly fell out of the sky. Scraping through office buildings, tilting from failed engines, heavy steel beams fell around the two men locked in combat.

The Winter Soldier refused to yield. His metal arm shown in the surrounding fires as he threw another punch, hitting Roman in the face once more. Roman’s mouth was bleeding, but he still had a grip on his vibranium shield. His huge frame, granted to him by a brilliant scientist’s serum, was tough, tough enough to withstand the violence of the highly trained assassin who was his opponent. Had he tried, the New Yorker now known as Captain America could have defeated the Russian asset, neutralizing him the way he’d taken down so many enemies before. But this was not just any enemy. This one, Roman knew better than any of his new, 21st century companions. He remembered him better than he remembered either of his parents.

The Winter Soldier was none other than Patton, the man he’d mourned ever since that terrible moment above the Danube, when he’d watched Pat fall into the icy river 500 feet below them. Since he’d tried and failed to save him. His last glimpse of his face had been a mask of terror as his grip slipped. The last words he’d heard were “Ro, I’m fa-” and then nothing but the ripping wind around them and the rumble of the train they’d been clinging to.

He had been changed, brainwashed, and morphed into a weapon. But from the minute his face mask had been ripped off, Roman knew him. It was his Patton. Far more than 50 years would have to pass for him to not recognize him in an instant. And there was no way Roman would willingly hurt him again.

He staggered back as Patton punched him in the face again, his face a grim mask of concentration. “You know me,” he said, refusing to retaliate.

“No I don’t,” his opponent spat out, kicking him in the stomach.

Double over in pain, Roman kept talking. “Pat, you’ve known me your whole life.” Another punch, this time caught on his shield. “Your name is Patton Buchanan Barnes, you’re from Brooklyn-”

“Shut UP!” the assassin yelled. He punched Roman right in the sternum, knocking him back into a fallen steel beam. His face contorted in confusion as he stared at the opponent who wouldn’t punch back.

Roman removed his helmet. “I’m not gonna fight you, Patton.” He let his shield fall in a clatter until it bounced out a whole in the floor and fell out of sight. “You’re my love.”

“You’re my mission,” the Winter Soldier growled, and tackled the larger man to the ground. Holding him down with his knees, he punched him in the face, over and over, metal fist against bone, again and again.

“Then finish it, Pat,” Roman gasped, spitting out blood. His faces was a tapestry of bruises and cuts as he stared at the scowling man above him. “‘Cause I’m with you to the end.”

The assassin paused, eyes wide. His arm was still poised to land the final blow, but he was just staring, breathing heavily. Emotions played over his face: confusion, sorrow, regret.

“…kiddo?” he breathed.

Roman smiled through his injuries, eyes lighting up as he spoke. “Welcome back, Pat. I missed you.”

#Roses Writes Fanfic #prompt fic #prompt fill #captain america au #ts patton #ts roman #royality #sunshine gays #my smol soft son #my smol drama son #i just love roman as the lil shrimp who doesn't know when to back down

[silvahscientiah]

In-Progress/ Abandoned/ Finished FFXV Prompts / Stories

These are all mine. If you want to use one, PLEASE ASK FIRST, so that I can know who’s doing what, and CREDIT ME at @silvahscientiah on tumblr or Silverhaunter on AO3. Each UNDERLINED title is a link to a story, abandoned work, or prompt of mine. Each italic long piece is an excerpt.

ALSO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH IS YOUR FAVOURITE IF YOU DO READ THEM SO I CAN MAKE MORE CONTENT LIKE IT

I was dead this morning.

“I was dead this morning.” Noctis says, and Ignis pipes up, “And I blind.”

    “And you know, thirty years old!” Prompto gasps, and Gladiolus nods, crossing his arms.

    “So, what the hell?” Gladiolus snaps, his temper from his youth returning in full swing.

Niflheim! Ignis:

“There’s a man that’s been running with the Empire, he deals in multiple kinds of magic, we’re not sure what his stance is yet.” Cor says, carefully, and Noctis raises an eyebrow, “He appears unassuming, but he was, according to the few survivors, there when Insomnia fell, fighting alongside the Empire.”

    “He appears not to be dangerous. He,” Cor grimaces, like he’s remembering something unpleasant, “Is most certainly one of our biggest threats.

A Stop in Tenebrae.

“I’ve been having visions of the future.” Ignis sighs, “of people dying. Aside from that, I know for a fact there will be ten or more years of darkness before the Chosen returns,” he stays distinctly distant from the matter,  “I am not leaving forever. Just for now. I cannot prevent what’s about to happen to Noct, but I can prevent what’s about to happen to” he stops.

    Prompto’s brain clicks, “Ravus.”

    Ignis nods solemnly, “Ravus.”

“I owe him my life and Noctis’, and I will not just let him die.” Ignis’ eyes close to the darkness, “not like that.”

    “I will be getting off the train at Tenebrae.” He says, “It’s been decided.”

Niflheim! Ignis II

The man barely seems to move, but his wrist is at Prompto’s throat, a blade sliding from a hidden gauntlet. The daggers are a distraction, it seems, and his form crackles with electricity, likely how he moved so quickly. The blade ignites with flame, and Prompto squeaks.

    “That is quite enough.” The man says, his eyes barely visible behind the dark lense.

    “Goodness.” Ardyn’s voice cuts the tension, and Ignis immediately steps away, and waves at Ravus and pushes past him, shoulders brushing, and Ravus sheathes his sword.

    The man stands beside Ardyn and removes his visor, unseeing eyes opening just long enough for Noctis to see the silver cloudiness.

    He mouths something, and his eyes skitter over to where Noctis is.

    ‘Walk tall, my friends.’

Him. (Ignoct)

“I- I can’t let this go on any longer, majesty. I apologize.” Ignis gently extracts himself, and moves away, “I’m dead. I know I am dead, I gave my life so that I might save my King and his Oracle. You died, Noctis, on the altar. You and Lunafreya were dead when Ravus and I arrived, she traded her life for yours, and I traded mine for hers. The only way we interact is,” Ignis seems to hesitate, “if I project myself using the ring. The Kings were not pleased with me, Noct,”

    UNFINISHED AND ABANDONED: Castlevania FFXV AU (Ignoct)

“I can save your child, but I cannot save you.” Ardyn says to Auela, “Your life for theirs, I can gift them with your humanity, and save them with the curse of vampirism. Your child will be born a dhampir. Half of it your husband, half of it the curse I will gift to you. You will not survive the birthing.”

Auela nods. “Do it.”

Noctis Lucis Caelum  is born later that night, and Auela passes on silently, half-son breathing quietly in her arms.

Noctis’ heartbeat is so loud in Ardyn’s ears, and he hates him for it. For the noisy beat of his heart and the fact that he is still alive and Regis is not.    

    Ardyn raises his scythe, as Noctis turns around, and the blade sinks into his vertebrae. His mouth opens, but no sound leaves him, as he falls onto the castle floor,  his blood hot and red and pooling onto the floor a his body shakes with shock, and his heartbeat loud and stunted and his face all too much like Regis’.

    Blood sprays across the wall, and a jet of flame burns Ardyn’s hand as Ignis, wild and cat-eyed raises his polearm, he does not speak, but the flame of his dagger sinking into his flesh and ripping open his body is more excruciating than even the pain of seeing Noctis bleed out with wide eyes on the tile floor.

    He has never hated anything more than he hates Noctis at that very moment.

“Fine. I’m Prompto Argentum, by the way? You’re Gladilous, Amicitia, right?”     “I don’t c- Argentum? Not Leonis?”

    “I’m adopted.”

    “Of course you are. Not like I’d actually get to save Cor fucking Leonis’ real fucking son.”

    “Hey!”

Good and Tasty Vampire Ignoct.

Ardyn Izunia approaches, puts his hand to Noctis’ throat, and Ignis can’t help but eye him wearily. His hands are cold when he pushes Ignis’ aside, almost like-

    “You’re a-” Ardyn backhands him, and he’s sent reeling, his head hitting the stone. His vision swims, and he tries to focus on Ardyn’s bored expression as he tries to lift himself to his feet, but a boot lands on his chest. Ravus stands to fight, and is blown back by a blast of dark energy and flame.

    Ignis’ vision swims, and like a light bulb going dark, he blacks out.

Mermaid Ignoct

The wheelchair hits his back and his breath leaves his lungs as he collides with the water.

    A figure darts out to reach him, and he’s soon deposited on the bank, a young boy, only a little older than him gentle cradling him as his back inches onto the sand. The boy- no, creaute- is making whistling and clicking noises, followed by chortling.

    The sound becomes more and more human, and suddenly the boy is crying, “Help! Please, someone, help!” a clicking punctuating his words, “King Regis, please!”

    A tail shifts to sit him up, pressed against the creature’s chest, at an angle good for his back. The creature lays him on his back oh so gently and presses their lips together, “Breathe, please, highness.”

    Noctis’ lungs filter through the sea water and he coughs while the young siren rubs his back.

    Suddenly the boy has legs, and is moving to pick up and carry him. He sways a bit on new legs, and is dressed in a simple suit. “Stay alive, please. Your back has been injured by the wheelchair when it hit.”

The Ring’s Flash

    The only warning they receive is the brightest flash of light they’ve ever seen. Ignis pitches the car to the side and slams on the breaks, with a yell of, “Is everyone alright?”

Gladiolus and Prompto both respond with varying shades of cursing, but Noctis does not respond at all, and when Ignis turns around, he is slumped forward, with what looks to be Regis’ sword embedded deeply into his chest.

    Prompto screams, and Gladiolus pulls away Noctis’ shirt as quickly as he can to assess if the blade can be pulled free.

    Ignis goes still, but not purely because of the blade lodged in his charge’s sternum. Noctis is taller, his legs tucked behind Ignis’ seat, and he’s wearing what looks to be a Royal Raiment. His hair is longer, too, styled differently, if at all, stray locks falling into his face. Beautiful in death, he reminds Ignis of the Kings of olde. He’s got a beard, which is most definitely a change from the clean shaven he’s used to, and the planes of his face are more angular with signs of adulthood. He’s paler, too, if that’s possible. Like he’s stopped going out in sunlight altogether.

Noctis would not cope well with Ignis dying.

Ardyn sits down opposite him on the train, “Should’ve killed the Oracle, I suppose.” He muses, and Noctis just looks out the window.

    “Noctis, you’re disappointing me.” he bites his lip, “Stick a knife in me. Do something.”

    Noctis whispers, “I just. Don’t feel like it.”

    Ardyn bites his tongue and disappears.

What you wanted.

    It’s immediately afterwards that Noctis plunges a blade into Regis’ stomach, his eyes glittering fire-orange, irises glassy, he pulls the blade from Regis, and looks at it cautiously. Regis falls to the ground, and presses his wound closed as quickly as possible, with his fingers, sloppy with gore, he’s too shocked to call out, his son had just called upon his armiger, there’s no way it isn’t him.

    The worst part, in Regis’ mind, is not that his son just stabbed him, but is that he is now gripping the blade with both hands, and has it pointed directly at his own body, just under his ribs, angled up toward his heart.

Reverse Au? Sort of.

Ardyn sinks his blade into Noctis’ stomach, angling it high up into his ribs, and letting it sit until he violently yanks it free. Noctis lurches with the icy pull of the wound, and claws at Ardyn, pressing his fingers to the knife, gasping, his hands clambering for purchase, trying to seal his skin together. Ardyn yanks the knife from his body, cutting open the sides of Noctis’ hands, and blood gushes from the wound.

“Noct! Get away from him!” Ignis rises to his feet, summoning his daggers from the rings on his middle fingers, calling them to him from where they rest just out of sight.  

    “Strange world, this.” Ardyn muses, “Oracle turned King, King turned Oracle, Advisor turned messenger. Ifrit was always the most powerful.”

Noctis trembles silently on the wet stone, “Ardyn, you don’t have to keep doing this, if I can just heal you in this world-”

“You can’t.” He hisses,

“We wouldn’t have to keep-!” and Ignis presses his hands to Noctis wound, murming the familiar line of, ‘forgive me’ and calling his magic to him, and burning Noctis’ wound closed as he screams and blacks out.

“Rest now, majesty.” Ignis murmurs, and cradles his head, lying him down.

“Once again, you change his destiny.” Ardyn hums, “Powerful indeed.”

Ignis clasps his hands around Noctis’ and awaken the astrals and kings and queens of Lucis to protect Lunafreya.

#Angst #Regis Lucis Caelum #Final Fantasy XV #Final Fantasy 15 #FFXV #noctis lucis caelum #ignoct #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ravus nox fleuret #briefly #lunafreya nox fleuret #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #heavy angst #violence tw #Fic rec #ignoct fic #cor leonis #for like two seconds in the dead this morning one

[sandersstudies]

I Do(n’t) Understand - Part I

Hey, friend-os! I was so flattered and blown away by the response to my first short Sanders Sides fic that I decided to try my hand at a longer piece. Please let me know what you think, I really do go through tags and comments regularly, and input makes my heart happy! 

Warnings: (SPOILERS) Some arguing/crying, minor panic attack, a minor physical injury. There is NO sexual content, swearing, or blood - it’s important to me to keep my Sanders Sides fics accessible, especially considering that so many Fanders are <18. If more warnings are needed, let me know. 

Pairings: Not romantic (but could be interpreted that way); expect platonic moxiety; platonic analogical. (More platonic pairings in later chapters.) 

Words: 2987

A healthy mix of fluff and angst this chapter, please enjoy! Feel free to message me and let me know if you want to be added to a tag list. (Also, just message me about whatever - I like getting to know Fanders!)

I Do(n’t) Understand - Part  2  3  4  5  6  7  8

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

Roman was ready to conjure a samurai sword and take Logan’s whole face off. “Get on with it, Bitter Holmes and Gardens.”

Logan was leaning against the door to his room, listening for noise from the hallway. “Keep your volume low.”

“Gan,” Roman said.

“This is no time for paronomasia, and Patton has already made that joke.” Logan pulled away from the door.  

“And why isn’t Patton here to make it again, might I ask?”

“Roman, it is my intention to keep the mindspace as undisrupted as possible, and that means ensuring that neither Thomas’ heart nor anxiety feels too distressed.”

“But Thomas knows about Deceit now! Keeping things from those two isn’t going to help anything.”

“I am confident in my ability to remove Deceit or, at the very least, to reduce his influence.” Logan paced the room with his hands held at the small of his back. His knuckles were white, but his palms were pink where they clasped. Roman couldn’t tell if they shook or not.

“So what do you need me for if you’re so all-powerful?” Roman asked.

Logan’s hands were definitely shaking now. He looked at Roman, pink in the face.

“In the… absence of reason, sometimes another approach is needed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In light of recent events, I think it is only appropriate to consider utilization of a Plan B, should it become necessary.” Logan’s eyes were bright behind his glasses. He took a deep breath which shuddered around his sternum. “If Deceit were to try to deceive us again, it’s not improbable that he would try to do so through me, especially considering my current confidence that I can overcome his attempts with logic.”

Roman couldn’t look at Logan’s eyes. Logan had never asked for help like this before; it seemed like he had never needed it. Roman felt an uncomfortable twinge in his stomach.

“So what do you want me to do?” Roman asked.

“I won’t pretend I believe that the sword will ever conquer the pen,” Logan said. “But in some cases, the sword is necessary.” He sat on his bed and took off his glasses. They dangled from one hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. He screwed his eyes up, and the twinge in Roman’s stomach elongated and coiled around his intestines.

“Do you really think it’ll work?” Roman asked.

“My deductions are inconclusive,” Logan said. “Evidence is scarce, but it’s there. If nothing else, you should be able to intimidate Deceit enough to drop his act.” Logan chuckled one syllable. “You’re quite intimidating when you want to be.”

“What’s this evidence you have?” Roman asked. He’d never asked Logan that before.

“They’re just fragments,” Logan said. He stood up by pushing off his knees with his palms. He shoved his glasses up his nose as he shuffled a few pieces of scrap paper. “Short notice, and all that.” He tried to block the scraps with his body. “It’s usually not this disorderly in here, really,” he whispered.

“It’s okay.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I wish I had more knowledge a priori, but-”

“English, Doc,” Roman interrupted. “Or Spanish.”

“I have a predilection for theoretically established knowledge derivable from universal principle deduction, rather than exiguous empirical data,” Logan said. He turned around and held up a scrap of paper. “Here: remember Thomas’ imperfect audition?”

“Of course, I was sore for days.” Roman decided to not bother asking for English a second time. “Predilection” was as far as he’d followed, and that sounded like a medical procedure.

“Bruised? In pain?”

“Yes.”

“And wasn’t Virgil lightheaded when we rose out of Patton’s room? And then, what did Deceit say right before Patton reappeared?” Logan’s words tumbled out.

“That…that it didn’t hurt him at all?”

“Correct!” Logan said. “He was lying, which means that he was in pain.”

“So sides can get hurt. Physically.”

“In a way,” Logan said. “Which means…”

“I can take Deceit’s whole face off.”

***

Virgil slid his headphones around his neck. “Everything okay, Pat?”

“Hmm?” Patton broke out of his reverie and blinked at Virgil several times.

“You’ve been staring at the stairs for ten minutes now.”

“Just thinking, kiddo,” Patton said, looking at his hands in his lap. “Roman and Logan sure have been up there for a while.”

“I’m sure everything’s okay,” Virgil said. Patton didn’t respond. “You want me to go check on them, or -”

“It’s okay.” Patton stood. “I think I’ll make dinner.”

Virgil glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty. He leaned against the couch, eyes closed, and listened to Patton moving things in the kitchen.

Virgil’s heart wasn’t pounding; his body wasn’t shaking. He could hear the faint crackle of music playing in his headphones. Nothing serious could be wrong with Thomas when Virgil felt so calm. The only thing bothering him was Patton’s behavior.

He opened his eyes. Patton was walking back and forth in the kitchen, picking things up and putting them back just where he’d found them.

***

“We have to tell the others,” Roman insisted. “You said yourself that knowledge is power.”

“It is my intention to preserve peace in the mindspace, Roman,” Logan insisted. “I’m hesitant to involve emotions in such a sensitive topic.”

“You’ll only be hurting the both of them if you keep things from them,” Roman said. “You’re so attached to your knowledge that you can’t bear to share it.”

“And you’re so determined to show off your ideas that you won’t keep them to yourself even for the safety of others,” Logan snapped. “Aren’t you always trying to be the protective one?” He took a step closer. Roman could hear a heart pounding, and wasn’t sure if it was his own or Logan’s. “I’m trying to keep the two of them safe.”

“And aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” Roman asked. “What happened to seeking knowledge if you’re afraid of getting hurt?”

“There are many factors at stake that you fail to understand, and I can’t expect myself to dumb them down to your level-”

“Others have feelings, Logan. But I guess you don’t know what those are!”

Logan took a step back. His lips were parted; his eyebrows arched, then narrowed. He pressed his fists against his sides.

Roman whirled and pulled Logan’s door open. He stopped just short of barrelling over Patton, who stood with one hand raised as if about to knock.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton whispered. The twinge that had been snoozing in Roman’s abdomen reared up to clamp around his esophagus. Roman felt his shoulders shaking, and he braced himself against Logan’s door frame.

“What do you want?” The words came out harsher than he had meant.

Patton’s brows furrowed, and Roman felt pinned like a bug between two sets of bespectacled eyes. The twinge was in his throat, and his ribcage was shivering as his heart convulsed inside. He bit his lip. Was this how Virgil felt during a panic attack?  

“Was just making dinner, and-”

“We’ll be down later, Pat, it’s really not a good time.” Roman shoved past Patton and slammed Logan’s door behind him. He ducked into his own room before he had a chance to see Patton’s face sink.

***

Virgil had started cutting up carrots for Patton, humming along to his music as he did so. A door slammed somewhere in the mindspace, and he took his headphones off again. A second door slammed. He looked around. Patton wasn’t in the kitchen anymore.

Virgil heard slow feet on the stairs.

“Hey, I didn’t notice you leave, Pat,” Virgil said, moving the sliced carrots from the cutting board to a bowl. “Guess my volume’s turned up too high again, huh?” Patton had been getting after him about that for weeks, and even Logan had added something about safe decibel levels.

Patton didn’t respond. Virgil turned around, but Patton’s back was to him. Patton pulled onions out of the fridge and put them on another cutting board.

“What’re we making, soup?” Virgil asked. How strange to be the one starting conversation, for once. Patton made a small sound of assent.

Virgil’s stomach shifted. Something wasn’t right.

Deceit again? Virgil thought. No, this wasn’t like that.

Patton sniffed over the crisp crunching of the onion he was chopping.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Virgil asked, moving to stand next to Patton.

“Onions,” Patton muttered, dropping the knife and fumbling with his wrist under his glasses to rub his eyes. His shoulders started to heave, and a sob broke free from his throat. He slapped one hand over his mouth. The deceitful motion made Virgil’s stomach churn again.

“Onions don’t do that, Pat.” Virgil rested his hand on Patton’s shoulder. It was warm. Virgil moved his hand to the other arm and pulled Patton into an embrace. He couldn’t tell which of them was shaking but heard his own voice whispering. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He felt dampness on his shoulder as Patton’s face reddened and sweated. Tears and snot smeared into Virgil’s hoodie, and Patton’s glasses dug into Virgil’s neck as they were knocked askew. Patton’s fingers grasped the cloth of Virgil’s hoodie, and Virgil placed his hand on the back of Patton’s head.

***

Virgil played his music low as he sat on the coffee table to think. He had finally convinced Patton to drink two glasses of water and go to bed. He had listened at the door until Patton’s even breathing convinced him that all was well. He considered confronting Roman or Logan; they would apologize to Patton if they realized how upset they’d made him. 

Patton had told Virgil he’d heard arguing in Logan’s room. Virgil cupped his own face in his hoodie-paws. What would creativity and logic be arguing about? Granted, the two of them were both opinionated and often at odds, but their tiffs never escalated into anything serious. Sure, Roman overreacted over anything: the other sides all remembered the Mrs. Fluffybottom incident. But Logan was much calmer. Anybody could push his buttons with a falsehood, but a full-on argument was rare. Virgil was proud at the way Logan had struck down Deceit with his level-headed reasoning.

Deceit. Could he be the reason that Roman and Logan were fighting? Virgil hadn’t felt uneasy all day, so he was confident Deceit hadn’t entered the mindspace.

Virgil watched the stars come out through the window, but he didn’t turn on any lights. He’d have to be more aware the next time, so Deceit couldn’t lead them along. He still felt he had to protect Patton, but suspected that Deceit was too smart to try the same stunt twice. The one he worried about the most was Roman; Princey was more easily manipulated with compliments than Patton, and more emotionally charged than Logan; a bad combination.

Virgil heard footsteps on the stairs. Logan walked into the kitchen, his hands held behind him. He didn’t look up from his feet.

“Hey,” Virgil said.

Logan started. He clasped one hand over his heart and flicked the light switch with the other. He relaxed when the obscure dark figure in the living room was illuminated; Virgil perched like a cat on top of the coffee table. The shadow of his bangs turned him into little more than a mouth and hair, framed by a hood pulled over bulky headphones.

“Virgil,” Logan said in a strangled tone. He cleared his throat. “Virgil. I apologize for my overreaction. I assumed everyone would be asleep considering the late hour. What are you doing awake at this time?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Virgil pulled off his hood, and the headphones tumbled to rest around his neck like jewelry.

Logan “hmm”ed. His eyebrows wagged and he nodded like he was unsure what to do with his face. He turned and went into the kitchen.

“I’ve been pondering some ideas.” Logan started filling the teakettle with water from the tap. “Some ideas more complex than I’ve considered in some time.”

“I probably wouldn’t understand, then,” Virgil joked, hoping his tone would cheer Logan up. Logan fumbled the teakettle as it overflowed. He turned off the tap and put the kettle on the stove.

“Yes, well…” Logan rubbed his hands together as if drying them off. “You shouldn’t give yourself too little credit, Virgil.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Logan stood suspended in the kitchen facing Virgil for a few long seconds.

“There’s plenty of couch. If you want,” Virgil said.

“No, no thank you.” Logan jerked his hand into a cabinet, searching for tea bags. “I’ll just be making my tea and going back to my room.”

“You might want to turn the stove on first,” Virgil suggested.

Logan paused with one hand still groping inside the cabinet. He blinked at Virgil, and then at the stove. “Ah, yes, well.” He walked to the stove and turned it on. “A foolish oversight on my part.”

“Everything okay, Professor?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, certainly,” Logan responded, almost cutting Virgil off. “I don’t know why you would infer otherwise.”

“You seem a little off,” Virgil said.

“I suppose I’ve been thinking about other things,” Logan admitted. “But I’m…Gucci, Virgil.” He bared his teeth with pride at his use of a modern slang term.

“You’re more Ralph-Lauren to me,” Virgil said. Logan blinked, and Virgil didn’t try to revive the joke. The teakettle steamed.

“Listen, Patton’s pretty upset,” Virgil said. He watched Logan’s stiff grin fall. Logan turned around to stare at the tea kettle; faint bubbling was audible inside.

“I would like to confer with him,” Logan said after a few seconds. He took his favorite mug from the counter. “Is he also awake?”

“He’s asleep.”

“I see. I don’t wish to disturb his circadian rhythms.”

Virgil didn’t respond. He couldn’t tell from Logan’s tone whether he was concerned about sleep cycles or if he was abashed to face Patton.

“I regret that he is upset, but I believe that Roman is the one who ought to make an apology,” Logan went on as he took the teakettle off of the stove. “He was terse with Patton, and I believe it may have been that which led to Patton’s distress.” The teakettle was heavy with water, and Logan strained to pour it.

“Listen, Logan-” Virgil said. The sound of Logan’s mug shattering against the floor cut him off.

Logan clasped his hand into a fist. He ought to have known better than to try and pour boiling liquid from such a heavy container. He felt his body responding to the shocking feeling and noise by shaking. His hand throbbed where the boiling water had spilled, and he could feel his heart pounding both in his chest and in his hand. Logan was surprised; he’d expected a burn of this kind to cause pain on the surface, but the scald dug deep into his hand, stabbing from the inside. This was further evidence for his research, and now he’d experienced the sensation for himself.

Virgil was at his side. He towed Logan by the arm around the broken mug to yank his hand under the tap. The cool water ran, and Logan felt immediate relief. The shaking subsided.

“What’s wrong with you?” Virgil asked, suppressing the shaking in his own voice. “Lost your sense of feeling?” He continued to hold Logan’s hand under the running water, even though Logan would have held it there himself if permitted.

Logan touched the red place where the water had scalded him. It stung.

“Stay there,” Virgil said, turning around to grab a handcloth.

“Be cautious,” Logan said. “There is glass on the floor.”

“Obviously,” Virgil said. He covered his hand with a towel and started to pick up the pieces. He reached under the stove and fridge to capture shards which had been flung out by the force of impact. He deposited them in the trash can and wiped the floor dry. “How’s your hand?”

“Improving, I believe,” Logan said. He tried to remember reading about how to treat burns.

“Let me see,” Virgil said. He turned the tap off. “Can I?” He was holding another towel.

“Certainly. The area should be cleaned.” Logan remembered that from an article he’d read.

Virgil touched Logan’s hand with the cloth and felt him flinch.

“Does that hurt?” Virgil’s eyes gazed through his bangs, but Logan wasn’t making eye contact.

“Only a little.”

“Don’t lie to me, Teach.”

“It does hurt quite a bit.”

“Put it back under the water,” Virgil said. “I’ll be back.”

Logan watched the water run over his hand as Virgil’s steps faded. The epidermis was flushed, but not blistering. From his preliminary observations, there was no damage to the subcutaneous tissue, despite the deep tingling sensation he felt. He opened and closed his fingers, considering which movements caused pain and which did not. How frustrating that it was his writing hand.

Virgil appeared back at his side. He was so light-footed that Logan hadn’t heard a thing.

“Keep it there another minute,” Virgil said. He unloaded the contents of a first-aid kit on the counter.

“You seem to know a lot about burns,” Logan said. He felt a slight flutter of pride in his chest.

“Only because Princey burns me every day,” Virgil said.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll make you a vocab card later,” Virgil said. “Okay, give me your hand.”

Logan flexed once Virgil taped the gauze in place. He’d retained most of his range of motion despite the inflammation of the epidermis and the bulk of the bandage.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Virgil looked at the ground. “Sorry you never got your tea. Want me to make you some?”

“No thank you, I think I’d better get to sleep.” Logan started for the stairs, still flexing his hand. “Oh, and Virgil?” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “For an optimal sleep cycle, you should do the same.”

“Okay, Teach.”

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

I Do(n’t) Understand - Part  2  3  4  5  6  7  8

Let me know if you want to be tagged, please! I expect to post chapters ~weekly if not more often. (Should it be more often? Less? Give me your thoughts).

Y’all are fam(ily) :)

#fanfiction #sanders sides #my writing #moxiety #analogical #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #logince #sanders sides fic #platonic #angst #fluff #fanfic #fic #what else do I tag idk #halp #also if you are still reading these tags #please know that you are fam #ily #studywritesstuff

[uncomfortablefandoms]

Azure Chapter One

Bridget Adams is my Marvel Universe OC. I’m obviously in a bit of a creative flow at the moment so am making the most of it. Based in the current Marvel Universe after Spider-Man Homecoming.

Minor warnings for some bad language and fighting.

Bridget hated the dark.

Not in the way that some people hate to eat their greens, or hate a particular song. Bridget truly hated the dark.

She found that darkness was claustrophobic and cloying against her skin.

However, on an almost equal level of hatred was the cold. Put the two together and Bridget was downright miserable. She hoped, at least, that it would be worth it.

With a sigh and a roll of her shoulders the teenage girl continued to walk along the sidewalk, pulling her coat a little tighter around her for warmth. The trees around the park rustled noisily as a sharp breeze served as something of a slap in the face making her frown unhappily. Perhaps the tip had been wrong. They weren’t usually but perhaps this time…

She froze, hearing footfalls step out behind her. Before she could turn a hand was clamped over her mouth and nose, the other grabbing her right shoulder. Her body tensed as she felt breath tickle her ear.

“Don’t make a sound. Make a sound and you’ll regret it. Got it?”

The voice was somewhat muffled but masculine. Something covering their face perhaps?

Bridget’s heart thumped in her chest so hard she thought it might burst out as the adrenaline surged through her system. She managed a small nod before being dragged backwards away from the dimly lit sidewalk. Her feet stumbled a little as she brought a hand up to her eyes, passing it off as wiping tears. The attacker did not seem to care, his grip tightening across her face slightly and pinching at her shoulder.

A very faint shimmer from her hand left an eye mask of dark purple. Bridget’s eyes glowed a faint green just as the sidewalk and dim light of the park lamps disappeared in a mass of bushes and branches.

“We’re gonna have some fu-“

The attacker’s statement was cut off as Bridget slammed her left elbow into his gut and twisted down and away, out of his grip.

“Fuck. You dumb bitch!”

He took in a gasp and stood up, reaching for the knife he had stashed in his boot.

A boot knife. Really?

Bridget raised one eye brow and shook her head, shrugging off her coat to reveal a tight and form fitting combat suit underneath. Thick soled boots adorned her feet and her hair had now been drawn back out of her face. The assailant looked a little taken aback for a second.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bridget cracked her neck, fists raised and feet spread into a ready stance, “The names Azure. And you’re the piece of shit that’s been attacking people in this neighbourhood right?”

“Azure? What, you some stupid little girl playing at hero? This isn’t a game sweetheart. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.”

“Don’t you worry yourself about little old me. Why don’t you come here and see just how well I can play ‘superheroes?”

“Be a shame to cut up that pretty little face of yours. I’ll put that smart mouth to good use when I’m done though!”

Lunging forwards the thug darted towards her with his knife aiming a strike at her upper chest. Azure dodged to the side, swinging her right hand down towards his wrist. Out of the dark evening air a rod of light materialised in her hand, cracking down hard against his wrist bone causing him to drop the knife. He grunted in pain and Azure slammed her left fist into the right side of his face. This sent him off balance and gave her the opening she needed to slam her open palms into his chest sending him flying backwards to land on the ground with a satisfying thud. The light rod disappeared into a shower of sparks, illuminating the area briefly before darkness returned.

“Tch.”

Azure moved to kick the knife away into the bushes before sauntering over to the brute that was laid on the floor wheezing. She rolled her eyes and used her boot to push him onto his back, pushing the heel of her boot down hard on his sternum.

“Did you really think you’d just get away with it?!” Fury engulfed the young teen as she stood defiantly before the crumpled body in front of her. “You honestly thought you could just carry on?!”

He let out a pain filled grunt as his hands flew to her ankle, desperately trying to release the tension and pain in his chest from her boot. He seemed surprised to find her impossible to shift.

“P-Please…” he gasped painfully.

She glared down at him with nothing but disdain in her marbled green eyes. They darted over his features, taking in the swelling of his right eye. Her own knuckles still stung from the blow she had inflicted upon him.

“Please?!” she echoed back at him, mockingly, “Please?! How many times did the people you hurt beg you? How many times did they say please?!” She ground the heel of her boot harder into his breast bone, “Did you listen?!” she bellowed venomously.

“Who are you?” he whimpered.

“I told you. I’m Azure. Not that it matters.” She replied through gritted teeth.

She clapped her hands together and as she drew them apart a glowing light emanated from them, illuminating her hardened features and causing the man to panic and squirm beneath her.

“Don’t kill me! I’m sorry! Don’t kill me!” he pleaded.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m not a murderer,” her boot remained planted firmly on his chest, pinning him in place, “You’re going to the police station. They have a warrant for your arrest.”

The light brightened, causing the defeated assailant to squint their eyes, turning their head to the side. A feeling of pins and needles coursed through his body and he felt nauseous. Soon the light dimmed and as his vision cleared he felt the damp earth beneath his back change to cold concrete. The blackness background noise of the park was gone, replaced by the cool artificial lights and sounds of the New York police department. The girl was gone and instead three police officers stood with guns drawn pointed at his face. Gingerly he raised his hands above his head.

“I’m… here to turn myself in?”

Back at the park Azure sighed, wiping her hand over her face to remove the mask and let her hair down. The boots and combat suit faded away in a dim shower of sparks, replaced by jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. She slowly picked her coat up off the ground, dusted it off and put it back on before digging her phone out of her pocket. Silently she traipsed back to the sidewalk, stepping carefully over the tree roots and pushing the bushes out of her way. Dialling a familiar number Bridget held the phone to her ear, scuffing her feet a little as she headed towards the park entrance.

“Hey, I’m done. You ready to pick me up?” she smiled as she heard the reply, “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Hanging up Bridget put the phone carefully back in her pocket before disappearing in a burst of sparks.

True to her word, a minute later Bridget reappeared at the entrance of the park and let herself into the waiting car.

“Hey sweetie,” the woman driving greeted her warmly. They had the same curly dark hair and nose shape, “Everything go okay?” She was an older woman but her face was gentle when she spoke to Bridget, obviously having been expecting her. In her outstretched hand she held a steaming take away cup of hot chocolate.

Bridget took the drink gratefully and held it with both hands, letting her fingers warm back through, “Thanks mom. Yeah. Same old same old.”

“You did good sweetie, were you hurt?” the woman put the car into drive and pulled away from the park and onto the main road.

“No mom, I’m good.”

“Let’s get you home.”

“That sounds amazing,” Bridget took a sip of the hot drink, hunkering down into the seat.

The drive home did not take long and Bridget entered the apartment after her mother, still swigging the hot chocolate.

“Marcus?” her mother called as she shut and locked the apartment door behind them, “We’re back!”

“Hi Eleanor, hi Bridget!” he called back, “Everything go alright?”

“Smooth as butter!”

Bridget walked into the lounge where her father was sat watching the TV. He muted his show and turned to grin at his daughter, offering her a high five. She clapped hands with him, wearing the same grin that wrinkled her nose as her father before finishing off her hot chocolate and throwing the empty cup into the trash can. She glanced over as her mother entered the room and sat on the couch with her father.

“I’m going to have a shower and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure sweetie,” Marcus smiled as he put his arm round his wife’s shoulder, “Sleep sweet brightness.”

“See you in the morning darling,” Eleanor said softly.

Eleanor nodded at them both before walking down the hallway and into the bathroom. She turned the shower on, perhaps a little hotter than she normally would, and stripped out of her clothes. Pausing briefly at the mirror Bridget’s fingers traced over the fine gold chain that hung from her neck down to the crystal pendant that hung from it before stepping into the bathtub and drawing the shower curtain. She let the hot water run over her, closing her eyes and leaning forwards to press her forehead against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. Inhaling threw her nose Bridget took a moment to calm herself before picking up the shower gel and scrubber. The young teen scrubbed every inch of her skin till it was red and the same with her face; a scalding hot flannel to scrub away at where he had touched her mouth. Then she washed her hair and turned the shower off.

Stepping carefully out of the tub she felt the soft rug between her toes and pulled a towel off the rail to dry herself with before wrapping another around her wet black hair. Standing up straight she wiped the fogged up mirror down with her hand and blinked at the blurry reflection staring back at her. She did not linger long in the bathroom, choosing instead to pick her clothes up and deposit them in the washing hamper. Satisfied Bridget walked out and back down the hall way to her bedroom.

Passing the lounge Bridget glimpsed in briefly to see her parents sat together on the couch. Eleanor’s legs were drawn up under her and her head was resting on Marcus’ shoulder. His arm was still wrapped around her shoulder as he played with her hair. As she headed into her room she caught snippets of their whispered conversation.

“…sure she’s alright?”

“…young but strong. She’s done so well…”

“…should’ve been me…”

“…can’t change it…”

Closing her door quietly Bridget leant against the door frame for a minute. Her bedroom was softly lit through various lights dotted around the room, though none had any visible power source. Flexing her left hand a few times she looked down at the knuckles. They were a little swollen but that would go down over night. She dropped both towels to the floor and got dressed for bed, climbing under the soft duvet and shifting slightly to get comfortable. One by one all the lights around her room dimmed to darkness save for the orb by her bed which faded to a very gentle glow. Curling tightly into herself not Bridget rolled over to stare at this orb as her eyes began to grow heavy. As her weariness finally overtook her Bridget drifted to sleep, her damp curls spread about her face and pillow, cheeks and lips still pink from the scrubbing she had given her. The soft orb remained throughout the night and into the early hours of the morning.

Bridget really did hate the dark.

#marvel oc #Marvel Universe #Bridget Adams #Azure #fanfiction

[ataraxicalex]

So this is a thing I wrote for my English class and I’m really proud of it so I thought I’d post it here! (Also I’m pretty sure the physics in this are inaccurate but shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I’m a lazyass who didn’t feel like doing research)

~

I gazed at my bloody hands. The pool of candy apple liquid had stained the pristine white tile by now, but I didn’t care. I put my hands on my knees and admired the gory, yet beautiful, scene I had created. He was broken. Bleeding slashes everywhere. Blisters littered his skin from the flames that had kissed it mere moments before. A knock on the door startled me, and I stood and opened it to find my exasperated girlfriend.

“You did it again.” I nodded, gazing at the crimson dots with pride. “We’ve talked about this, you can’t just go and kill someone!”

“But I can. If you aren’t caught, no one can stop you from being powerful. And look! I have proof of that right here!” I chuckled. “Along with the others in the basement. Which reminds me….”

I went to the kitchen, finding supplies. I found a glass jar before I grabbed an axe. With an eerie smile, I carried them back to the once clean bathroom and knelt by the corpse. I cut a long incision down his chest, splitting it to reveal the fading golden orb imprisoned in his ribcage.

“Shush now, my love, I will rescue you in due time.” The light pulsed almost in response and I smiled.

Shrapnel of white bone flung away from the body as I stabbed, littering the bloody ground as if with snow. I repeated the action, smashing the sternum over and over again until it broke. I grabbed the shining ball, placing it in the jar where it floated in a golden cloud. I screwed the cap on and cradled it with care.

I paused where my girlfriend was standing, waiting for her to move so I could take the essence of life downstairs. After a couple of seconds passed and she hadn’t budged, I scowled and just pushed past, bumping her.

“Hey!” she shouted at me, making me turn. I noticed the long blade in her hand, the point centered on me.

“My love, what are you doing?”

“Saving everyone. You’re a danger to the world. I cannot keep excusing this,” she replied shakily.

“Oh please. You won’t be able to do that. I know how--” I gasped as the knife plunged into my chest. I dropped the jar and chunks of glass flew, the lid went rolling down the hall, and the golden orb inside disappeared.

I grabbed at my chest and pulled at the knife, removing the sharp blade from inside my lung. I held the wound, attempting to hold in blood as I started to cough. I stumbled toward her; she turned and ran in panic toward the front door. I paused against a wall to clear my throat from blood temporarily--before I was turned and sliced open like a pig. I fell against the wall and slid to the floor as organs started falling out: intestines, kidneys, everything. I pushed it all back as my hands shook. I coughed, choking on the blood that was replacing all air in my body. I stared up at my girlfriend as she walked up to me with the jars of lives.

“You know what? This was always my plan. I was jealous of those--” she motioned towards the jars, “--and I wanted them. I thought we were sharing because we always shared everything. I hope you realize that I am never going to return these. And your life is just going to join them too.”

I coughed once more, splattering her nice blue jeans with fluids, and the last sensation I remembered was her mouth on mine. It tasted like candy apples.

#the art of words

[sanctus-artopodus]

1500odd words of super self-indulgent, unproofread, unbeta’d OC shipping

The night was cool enough to push uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Coupled with the lack of light from the sky, the guards huddled closer to their fire. They spoke quietly to each other about nothing in particular and shifted their weapons and weight to be more comfortable. They lived in a time of peace. They weren’t particularly worried about anything happening to the palace. Besides, they couldn’t see past the small ring of light their small fire afforded them.

Due to all of these factors, they didn’t notice the dark shadow slinking along the tree line. They also didn’t notice the light reflecting off its red eyes as it watched them, waiting.

And when the guards decided to head back five minutes before shirt change, they certainly didn’t notice how the shadow took a running leap at the wall to begin its climb up with single-minded determination.

The king—and how strange it was to finally be addressed as such—could have been considered odd by some. His ascension to the throne had been long anticipated and celebrated joyously, but there was still something strange about a man who had removed all but the outermost doors to his chambers. Himself. He had instead put curtains of various thicknesses up and kept them tied open most of the time.

The curtains at his balcony, the one in his bedroom, were not tied open. Instead, they shifted lazily in the cool night air. The young king had moved his desk to be on the same wall as the balcony. He liked being able to look up and see the sky without having to turn around. And at that same desk he sat, rereading a letter deemed more personal than political when he heard someone climbing up onto his balcony.

He waited, listening. Whoever was on his balcony did the same.

On the chance that it was one of his brothers sneaking home exceptionally past curfew, the king made quite a noisy show at his desk as if he were absorbed in looking for something that had fallen under the desk.

On the more likely chance that it was not one of his brothers, he held his letter opener in the most functionally correct way to stab someone.

The person on the balcony did nothing until the king was settled back in his chair. His ears strained to catch any sound he could, eyes trained on the papers on his desk. The intruder moved quietly through the shuffling curtains, stopping behind the king’s back.

The king sent his chair toppling over as he whipped around, knife already heading toward the stranger’s throat.

He stopped abruptly when he realized he was eye level with a flower.

Teo laughed, his mask already around his neck.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you that badly.” Teo did not sound sorry.

Triton’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and tossed the letter opener back onto his desk.

“Why didn’t you come in through the main gates? The staff knows to let you in.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in just being let it? If I’d come in through the main gates, I would have been announced and then everyone in the kingdom would watch me walk right to you bedroom.”

“And if you’d been caught climbing up to my bedroom instead?”

“Then you’d bail be out in the morning and we’d probably be having this same conversation. Except you would have already won.”

Triton fought back a smile. He still wanted to be a little angry. “I could have really hurt you just now you know.”

“We both know it will take a lot more than office supplies to do me in.” Teo winked with his scarred eye, offering the king his flower again.

He finally looked at the flower and frowned.

“Did you pick this from our gardens?”

“Well, technically yes,” Teo’s smile faltered slightly, “The thing is, I was bringing you home some seeds from some interesting plants I saw down south, but um.”

“Um?”

“Myko ate them. And I didn’t want to come here empty handed so I may have picked one of your flowers. But! It matches your eyes. So…”

Triton laughed. He laughed and took the flower that did indeed match his eyes and set it on his desk. He laughed as he finally moved in to Teo’s embrace.

They kissed once, twice. A few more times.

“I got your letter a few days ago. I thought it said you wouldn’t be home for two weeks.”

“Yeah? I sent it two weeks ago.”

Triton stopped his gentle caresses of Teo’s face.

“This is why you’re supposed to date you letters.”

“Why would I do that? I’d rather date you.”

They both laughed again, tripping as Triton went to move away from his lover’s jokes while Teo tried to pull him closer. They kissed where they fell.

~*~

They lay tangled together in the aftermath. The sky was still dark, with dawn many hours away. The lovers had closed the canopy around their bed instead of forcing themselves to part long enough to fasten the curtains at the balcony shut.

“Hey,” Teo said into the darkness, “did I ever tell you about the time I—“

“—leapt across a river with a goblin? Yes.” Triton answered while tracing patterns into Teo’s sternum. “Tell me again.”

~*~

In the morning, they helped each other get ready for the day. Or, to be more accurate, Triton brushed Teo’s hair, and Teo made as much of a nuisance of himself as he could manage while he did Triton’s hair, makeup, and clothes, sneaking kisses as often as he could. One of them was still a king and had to look like it.

With one final kiss, the king left to begin his day of ruling his people and all the tedium therein.

Teo went back to bed.

~*~

Triton was much too responsible to play hooky. He did, however, decide to make it a half day. After a quick trip into the kitchen, he took a lunch for two back to his chambers. The staff was too responsible to say anything, but the chef made a mental note to prepare a plate for one more at dinner.

Teo was still in bed when Triton came up with lunch. He happily tossed the book he was reading aside to greet him at the door. They ate in the floor, laughing and chatting and enjoying each other’s company again.

They pulled more pillows and cushions into the floor after they cleared the dishes from lunch away to continue their cuddling.

They dozed contentedly for a time. Triton became restless before too long. Teo teased him sleepily, but Triton eventually detangled himself.

“Wait here.” He said.

There was literally nowhere else Teo would rather be.

He came back with a small box in his hands. They were shaking. Teo sat up, fully awake.

“I, uh, asked the twins for help with this so, hopefully I don’t do anything wrong. They didn’t say if there was a specific style I was supposed to use. I just tried for something nice.”

He managed to open the box. It was a pair of earrings, made from precious white gold and a reddish-pink gemstone set into the bottom of the teardrop shape. Teo was pretty sure he had stopped breathing. Or was dreaming. Or both.

“The, the gem matches your eyes,” Triton continued on. “I saw them and thought of you. They’re probably too flashy for you to wear all the time so maybe we can pick something else out later. Together. I mean, if you want to. I don’t, um, I don’t know what else to say. So, um, will you do me the honor of joining my family?”

Teo definitely wasn’t breathing now. He could think of 10,001 reasons why he should say no. He was no good for Triton and he knew it. They both knew it. The whole kingdom, the whole world knew it. He forced himself to take a breath.

“Triton, I,” his voice cracked, “I’d really like that. Yes. Please, yes.”

“Really!? Yes!?” Triton’s face was going to be sore later from the size of his smile.

“Really, yes.”

They kissed again, laughing as tears dripped down Teo’s face, Triton half vibrating with excitement. Their hands shook as Teo told his fiancé about the proper engagement rites and rituals of his people. The weight of their new bond settled comfortably, neither one being able to keep himself from touching it for long.

~*~

They managed to break apart long enough to make themselves presentable for dinner. Teo was well received by excited royal siblings. Although there were more than a few curious and pointed glances at their new matching accessories, no one was quite brave enough to ask.

They retired at a respectable time, knowing they would have to make an announcement soon. But soon was not now, and they had their whole lives ahead of them.

~*~

“Hey, wait. Is this just your way of keeping me from climbing in through the window anymore?”

#words are art too #they go on the art blog