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teatoptony · 7 months

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For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

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venomous-qwille · 11 months

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Weekly Magma Session 2

That's a wrap for our first ☆ DCA Artists ☆ Weekly Magma!

Thanks to all the wonderful artists who turned up for our second session- (once again there were so many people we had to start a new canvas early into the event!) check out their work on the boards below:

[ID: The above images are from a Magma canvas with various pieces of Sun and Moon fanart drawn by different artists. End ID]

If you like what you see and you crave more (..I know I do), you can find a bunch of these amazing artists are tagged below!

@alexmilkbucket // @chocolateseeds // @nosleepyguy // @thatmooncake // @flinxypie // @cody-welsh // @reaurelynios // @atr0city

@just-a-drawing-bean // @c00k13s // @xitsensunmoon // @nomsthecat // @icy-gendango // @skizabaa //

@clxckwork-sun-n-moon // @greedyarts-official // @robo-kitty09 // @venomous-qwille // @miss-night // @anonymousmouse556 //

@theblog-with-thestuff // @filez34 // @rabarbarconfiteor // @kibbits // @moonlight-404 // @ohno-the-sun // @cero-sleep // @flooficlay // @pasteldragonstuff // @silliemop //

@chandlelures // @lab-labrava // @the-daycare-assistant // @salamansir //@coughrat // @astral-pigeon // @beeeepis4why // @glitched-overthinker

Someone missing? I try hard to keep track of all the artists who participate! Make sure you add a legible signature (tumblr handle) to future Magmas so I can find and tag you!

If you would like to take part in our future Weekly Magmas please take a moment to join the ☆ DCA Artists ☆ Magma group where we will be hosting all our weekly sessions. Future Magmas will be live on:

Saturday 7pm-4am UTC

I will be posting the Magma link on tumblr when we do go live, so keep an eye out around this time!

See ya next time Superstars ☆

#blown away once again by the talent and community in this fandom #weekly magma #magma #the dca palooza #fnaf security breach #fnaf dca #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #qwilledraws

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alexa-fika · 2 months

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Threats for One (Crocodile x gn!Pigeon!reader)

Pt1, Pt2

Doflamingo Version

A/N Guys I have been COOKING in this series 🫦🫦, I really love this series and writing more for it but I have no idea what I can keep adding, I don’t want it to be repetitive either. Like I said I really love writing this series or this type of content that is darkish? The type that makes your stomach flutter, so if you have any requests or ideas please let me know 👀 🔪

Dividers by @/saradika

Crocodile sat in his office looking through paperwork until the door slammed open and a hand slammed down in said papers

“I finished your delivery, now give me the antidote,” they sneer

Crocodile stares at them as they slam the door. His stoic expression shifts to an expression of amusement as a smirk spreads across his lips. He remains silent for a moment, staring at them before chuckling to himself

“You’re a feisty one, I give you that… But, that is quite all right. I expected a bit of resistance from you; I will be honest; I was prepared for you to be a bit more of a handful.” He says with a mocking grin upon his scarred face

“Sit down.”

“To hell with that; I did your damn delivery, so give me the antidote.”

“I said you would get the antidote if you did the delivery; I never specified that you would get the antidote immediately. Now sit.”

They growl, pulling out a small dagger and swiftly slashing it over the stacks of papers he had been previously working on, effectively cutting the stack in half

“Give me the antidote, Crocodile, im not playing this damn twisted game with you.”

The stacks of paper collapse to the floor, but the smile on Crocodile’s face remains, albeit it has turned into something darker, more twisted. He eyes them, slowly and steadily standing up.

“So you’ve taken to threats to get what you want?” He draws a long puff of smoke from his cigar as he talks

“Hm, a bold and violent pigeon…, a rather unique specimen you are.” Crocodile walks around the desk, keeping a close eye on them.

“You must understand, Reader, you are an asset to me, one I can’t lose, right?

“Quite the way you treat your assets.”

“Do you think I’ve treated you badly so far?” He questions mockingly

“Perhaps, but only because a bit of rough handling was required on your end in order for you to understand your place.” He states, circling around them

“But in my opinion, I’ve been rather fair to you, even giving you a diluted antidote in good faith in order for you to get in line.”

“My place? You still seem to be under the impression that I am a mere employee and can’t seem to grasp the fact that I don’t work for you; I am not one of your underlings.”

“It seems we are at an impasse. I see myself as your employer and the Cross Guild as your job, and you seem to see yourself as a freelance worker,” Crocodile says as he circles around them until they are behind them

“A pigeon whose wings I can hold ransom and use to my advantage. Is that not what you are to me? And is it not fair that I’m asking you to be a simple messenger for me?” He says, letting out another puff of smoke as Reader turns around to face him

“I’d say it is a very fair arrangement, Reader. I just expect you to do what you are told; not that difficult, is it?”

“Just give me my damn antidote; find yourself some idiot willing to fall for that crap.”

“Is that really how you think this works? That I would just hire some random idiot to take over your deliveries?” He said, shaking his head

“You are rather mistaken; you have a good track record, no issues with deliveries, and I rather like the idea of having such messenger being one of a kind. That is why I need you. Start listening and sit down,” he said, holding the vial at arm’s length

“Or should I show you what would happen otherwise?” he said, bellowing a thick cloud of smoke

“Ne, Reader, are you sure you want to risk it, hmmm?”

They stared at the antidote hanging from his hands, a slip away from falling and, with it all chance of returning their wings to normal

Crocodile looks at them, the smirk and teasing glint in his eyes fading; instead, a serious, stern expression appears in its place.

“If you value those wings of yours at all, you’ll sit down and behave.”

There is a heavy, thick tension in the air as he keeps the antidote just out of their grasp.

“Sit. Down”

They glance desperately at the antidote

“I-I’m the only one of my kind. You destroy that, and you destroy your so-called asset; your deliveries would be canceled or delayed if we’re being hopeful,” they nervously try to reason

Crocodile lets out a chuckle as they talk

“I think you underestimate my influence. I do admire your sense of self-preservation… and the way you just attempted to use it as a bargaining chip, but you have to understand, Reader, what makes you think you are so irreplaceable?” he says as he continues to keep the antidote juts out of their grasp, dangling it in his fingers

“Losing you would delay deliveries, and some bounties and payments would be likely lost, but I would be able to find a replacement, less efficient and slower, but a replacement nonetheless,” he grumbles, lifting one finger of the vial

“Sit… down…”

“Okay! Okay!” They said, slumping down in the chair

“Please, just don’t destroy it; I need my wings back.”

“Finally, a bit of reason…” a slight smirk on his face slowly growing as he sees them comply.

“Now relax; a bit of trust and compliance can take us a long way,” he says taking a seat in his chair once again, staring at the fuming pigeon in front of him

“But this time, you are on a short leash. There will be none of that nonsense again; you are to do as you are told, is that clear, Reader?” he said gingerly, placing the vial on the table next to him, enough to be tauntingly close to them but far enough to be out of their reach

They glance at the vial, not taking their eyes off it as they speak

“Short leash?” They scoff

“You have me on a short leash already, you damn asshole; you gave me a diluted antidote and a time limit to come back.”

“There is a reason for that, little pigeon,” he responds to their scoff, a sadistic grin on his face

“It’s to ensure you come back in a manner that doesn’t involve me ripping your wings off and handing them to you; after all, you could decide to run off as soon as you get your antidote.”

“Besides, it’s only a few hours. Surely an experienced messenger such as yourself is capable of delivering such a simple package in that time frame?”

“You know what im also capable of doing?”

Crocodile’s expression remains unchanged as they continue to talk

“Enlighten me pigeon. What else are you capable of? Do you think you’ll be able to threaten me?”

“Im capable of using that timeframe to fly myself to a navy base; better yet, I could make one final stretch to make it to Marineford, maybe call for a buster call, im sure they will agree, seeing as three former warlords reside in it sending bounties for them”

Crocodile’s smile grows, growing dangerous as the second tick by

He leans back in his chair, taking a long drag from his cigar

“Hm, you are truly unpredictable, and that is very concerning. It seems, that you are going to be a lot more annoying than I already anticipated,” he mutters, letting slip a rather annoyed sigh.

“Try me.”

Crocodile stares at them with a smug, almost mocking grin, his cold eyes looking them up and down.

“Go ahead, go on ahead and try pigeon. I dare you to run off.”

A malicious smirk begins to spread across his face at the thought of them trying to run off

“We both know I’ll just catch up to you in a heartbeat and tear your wings off and string them to my belt before the Marines could even finish blinking.

Do you really not trust me not to have a contingency plan for any attempt to run off? Are you so confident in your ability to outrun me that you would wager your very wings?”

“You can’t be over me 24/7, Crocodile; perhaps I'll just take a detour in one of your deliveries to visit the good ol marines,” they taunt

“Hm, you sure have gained a rather large ego from a minimal amount of independence, Reader; such a shame…” he sighs, shaking his head like a disappointed parent

“You can try to make a detour at the marine base; I’d even welcome it; it gives me more of a reason to teach you your place.” Crocodile’s grimace darkens as he continues

In the blink of an eye, Crocodile had removed the hook and revealed the sharp knife that lay underneath, the blunt weapon now resting in Reader’s neck, tilting up the weapon and forcing them to move along with the knife to avoid getting nicked by the blade

“Or perhaps I should show you another lesson to help with your compliance?”

They glanced down at the knife pointed at them, attempting to back away from it, only to be stopped by a pillar of sand behind them, preventing any escape from the current threat

“There appears to be a slight misunderstanding here, little pigeon…

“You seem to believe you have the ability and the choice to escape? No, no, no, I’m in no mood to let that happen right now. he said as he pressed the sharp blade just a bit harder into their throat, causing a small red drop of blood to fall and roll down to the table

“I’ve entertained this game of yours…, but I fear it has gone on long enough little pigeon.”

“Then give me the antidote, and I’ll be off,” they mutter, wincing at the feeling of the dagger piercing their skin

A look of annoyance, mixed with boredom, fills his eyes as he looks over them

“I do Applaud your attempt, but do you really believe I’d make it that easy for you to gain the item you desire and run away in hopes of never having to serve me again?

Unfortunately, that is simply not how it works, little pigeon; you are a prized possession and asset of mine now. I’m afraid we will have to spend time with this arrangement for a while longer,” he said, grinning once again as he continued leaning closer to Reader as they tried to back away from him, stopped by the pillar of sand

“Truth of the matter is, I don’t trust you, little pigeon. And I don’t plan on letting you get too far off into our game.”

They glare at him, quickly running out of ways to defend their case and obtain their antidote, and both of them were highly aware of who had the winning hand

“Not so eager, are we, little pigeon? What happened to that bravery of yours? That defiance of running away to the Marines.” he smirked

“Let me give you a little tip: sometimes compliance just ends up being the simpler solution to a complex problem… and the easier path is almost always the preferable one,” he said, leaning back against his chair once again, putting their hook back over their dagger the sand pillar behind Reader slowly crumbling to the ground, he swiftly threw a vial and a pack of posters in their direction

They grunted as they easily caught the items

“That’s what I like to see, little pigeon, compliance.” Crocodile’s eyes narrowed once again, the smirk on his face growing wide

“That dilution should be enough to lift the poison for a few hours so that you can deliver those new bounties to the civilians in the neighboring islands.”

They grit their teeth, standing and heading for the door, only to be stopped as Crocodile calls for them once again

“What.” They growl

“Next time you try to pull off something like this again, I will be taking that tongue of yours, so be smart and keep it in your mouth rather than spouting nonsense that will only bring you more punishments.”

They tighten their fists but continue walking, only to once again be stopped by a pillar of sand; they glance back at the perpetrator of their blocked exit

“Am I being Clear?”

“Yes,” they hiss

“Now let me do my job.”

“Seems my ears are failing me. Would you repeat that? Am I being clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

I was thinking of maybe Mihawk appearing on the next part bur idk cause my head is empty so if y’all have any ideas or suggestions on what could happened then maybe I can write another part with mihawk??

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #cross guild x reader #cross guild #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #crocodile #op crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile

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coreofmyfruits · 1 month

Text

HEAD CANNONS !

★ Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu Macher ↓

Physical traits

Pigeon toed

6'4

Has to usually duck down through door ways

Slouchy posture

Has immense upper back pain

Prone to head aches

Left handed

Large hands (Billy calls them monkey paws)

Warm hands

Has a bunch of scars on his knuckles

Has a lot of scars in general but they accumulate in the same general areas

Personality

ADHD

ASD (autism spectrum disorder)

NPD (narcissistic personality disorder)

Stu got diagnosed with ADHD at a young age due to always being an interruption in class and especially silent reading, always having to get up and be doing something. Not too long after he got diagnosed with ASD because of his lack of awareness and his parents concerns about him being behind in class work (he just wasn't doing it). Stu never got properly diagnosed with NPD he never even thought of himself being a narcissist.

Likes and interests

Horror movies (mainly psychological thrillers)

His favorite movie is Eraserhead

Favorite color is black (because when he first met Billy he thought Billy's eyes looked black)

Loves to read

likes to read to Billy in silly voices (especially when it gets to a 'serious scary' part of the book)

Likes Edgar Allan Poe and Oscar Wilde

He likes hip hop and rap but really likes ska punk and surfer punk (queercore is also a must)

Likes low riders

Unironicaly loves the show Pimp my Ride

Actively ghost rides the whip

Wants a jacuzzi in his car because of Pimp my Ride

Likes to compare hand sizes with Billy because it pisses Billy off

Uses Billy's head as an arm rest

Steals Billy's clothes specifically his pants because they're baggy enough to fit but he can wear them as low-rise and he loves when Billy tells him to take off HIS pants because Stu looks 'stupid'

Stu just likes it when Billy turns red and tells him to take off his clothes

Always an opportunity to carry Billy anywhere bridal style never an opportunity not to

The scent of Billy's shampoo and how he naturally smells like pinecones and rain

Antique surgical tools

Dislikes

Bitches, cunts, liars oh my!

Sydney, not because he's jealous of her and Billy but because he used to have a crush on her

Betrayal

Abandonment

Being ignored

Talked over

Fish he fucking hates fish

The beach after it rains

Tooth pain

Unneeded laugh tracks

Sitcoms

YA romance novels

White women audacity

Starbucks

Lines

Victim mentality and complexes

Billy's stubborness

Love languages

Acts of service

Words of affirmation

Physical touch

Sexuality

Bisexual

Billy Loomis ↓

Physical traits

Slightly bow legged

5'9

Overly Straight posture

General neck pain

Tense shoulder muscles

Has Hyperacusis

Prone to migraines

Left handed

Shorter fingers wide palms and strong grip strength

Always has cold as fuck hands

Has a lot of scars mainly on his middle to lower back

Half Mexican

Easily tans

Frizzy hair

(slightly) Allergic to red food dye

Personality

ASD (autism spectrum disorder)

ASPD (anti social personality disorder)

Billy has not been diagnosed with either ASD or ASPD he's not even aware of the possibility of him having one especially not both at once. Billy's father was never around enough to notice Billy's acute behaviors or to even think of getting a specialist to diagnose him also Mr.Loomis is a lawyer it wouldn't look good for his job if his son was 'crazy'.

Likes and interests

Horror movies (slashers)

Favorite movie is before sunrise

Favorite color is teal (he would never admit it but it's because Stu looks good in teal)

Mainly listens to the same three bands (pixies, Radiohead, my bloody Valentine)

Loves the song pink triangle by weezer

Has a guilty pleasure for 40s and 50s love songs

Likes to draw

Favorite artist are Keith Haring, Andy Worhal and Francis Bacon

Draws like Franz Kafka (he doesn't know who Franz Kafka is this is just a reference to what I think his drawings would look like)

Really likes playing in the mud and jumping in puddles

Loves worms

Eats the shit out of some Oreos

Plain hotdogs

Likes how large Stu's hands are

How Stu smells like warm wool and fire

When Stu picks him up

Biting Stu (mainly his shoulders)

Stu in HIS pants

Tea

When Stu reads to him

Blood

Phantom skulls

Dislikes

Sydney, he's never even liked Sydney not before he found out about her mom and his dad and especially not after... He just always had this feeling

Tatum Riley (he looks better on Stu)

Cops pigs and donuts

Healthcare system in America

Abandonment

Betrayal

Being cut off

Being hung up on

Noise in general

Phone bills

Lawyers

Ableist(ism)

Ableist infrastructure

Gender pay gap

Misogynists

Hamburgers

Poppyseed buns

Layering clothes (he would rather freeze than put more than over shirt on)

Socks

Shoes in the house

Hot weather

Sweating

Baths

Coffee

Reading

Love languages

Words of affirmation

Acts of service

Gift giving

Sexuality

Asexual (non sex repulsed) and queer

★

Tags !

@ghostfacemp3

#scream 1996 #scream movies #billy loomis scream #stu macher scream #stu macher x billy loomis #billy loomis x stu matcher #stu x billy #billy x stu #billy loomis #billy loomis headcanon #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #headcanon

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delopsia · 1 month

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEL!!!🥳🥳🥳 You deserve a wonderful birthday and you are such an amazing writer 💕

Here are some hydrangeas and can I request a pigeon post with Rhett with the title of "If you dare"

Thank you! :D I hope this was in the ballpark of what you were looking for 💕

The late-summer breeze catches in the skirt of your dress, tickling at the inside of your thighs as it passes by. Chilly enough to have your skin prickling but not so much that you begin to shiver; a pleasant middle ground, considering Wabang's propensity to cold nights. Even the beating overhead lights are not enough to ward off the drop in the temperature.

But the blaze in Rhett's eyes might set you on fire at any given moment.

The gap between your bodies decreases by the mili second. Him and his jingling spurs, heaving chest and sweaty hands, on a one-way track to get you in his arms. His chest bumps into yours, forcing you backward until your heels bump into the wall—some out-of-order concession stand or something that you can't care to recall.

"How 'm I supposed to focus when you're out here lookin' like that?" His hands are roaming up your sides, unashamed of who may look over and see. You can't tell if his hungry gaze is peeking down your shirt or fixated on the necklace around your neck, a dainty little 'R' hanging from it. Innocent as can be.

What you do know is that he's onto you.

"Don't you dare," he's muttering that warning as if he's not the one who has put you up against this wall. Touching you like he's about to tear this little sundress from your body at any given moment.

You dare.

You've come too far to stop yourself, palm dipping down to press against the growing bulge in his jeans. A simple touch with such a big reward; Rhett's eyes roll, lips parting with an audible inhale.

In the distance, a voice calls out. "Hey, Abbott, you're up next!"

With a devilish squeeze, your hand draws away, instead rising to brace against his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. "Ride well, cowboy."

Nobody knows why he's not around to celebrate his big win that night.

But you do.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's asks #delopsia's birthday bouquet

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ahappyphjl · 4 months

Note

can you rec some of your fave dnp from your playlist? :) currently going through some of their older content and always up for recommendations since there’s a lot out there

yess of course, happy to!! my "faves" playlist has over 100 videos and i love all of them, so i'll list the ones i rewatch most often, and ones that just mean a lot to me. i didn't include many of their newer videos or any of the pinofs though, cause they're all so great. hope u find some that u really like :)

both:

a festive day in the life of dan and phil

dan and phil play undertale (the series)

halloween baking - pumpkin spice pumpkin cookies

halloween baking - monster pops (just all the baking videos lol)

14 year old phil's game - dan and phil play: the mark of oxin

dan and phil play cards against humanity

dan vs phil: yasuhati

making a phandwich - dan and phil play: overcooked #2

amazingdan

the tree

a day in the life of dan and phil in london

the photo booth challenge

dan and phil play just dance

dan and phil play the impossible quiz #2

will dan and phil be millionaires

the wardrobe

blindfolded cat face game

something we want to tell you

dan and phil play golf with friends (the series)

what dan and phil text each other 2022

dan and phil play incohearent

phil:

viewers pick my outfits

a static lullaby - toxic (britney spears cover)

meet my mum

reacting to my baby videos

draw my life

draw my life: part 2

i got attacked by a squirrel

the hand - a dan and phil fanfiction by phil lester

coming out to you

trying to see without my glasses

trying to catch and rescue an injured wild pigeon

dan:

trying to live my truth

i nearly blinded myself

our awkward fancy meal

dan reacts to his childhood videos

the urge - a dan and phil fanfiction by dan howell

basically i'm gay

butterfingers (first solo dan vid i watched & which made me sub to him lmao)

dan's diss track - roast yourself challenge

my bahamas travel disaster

we are in a relationship

#i couldn't choose just a few so this is a lot oof but hopefully helpful!#sorry it took me a while to compile this lol it was so hard to decide which ones to include #answers #anon #favs #dan and phil

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afterartist · 1 year

Text

Little known fact about me

I really love birds!!

And I love Winged AUs, so I thought, why not make my own version

So here’s my take on some of the well known AUs as what wings they would have (plus some dumb little notes lmao)

Classic: Pigeon

(Come on- its perfect- I don’t need to explain this-)

Fell: Bearded Vulture

(They coat themselves in blood and red mud- that’s totally edgy mc edge lords kinda thing)

Swap: Parrot

(Super smart, bright and dexterous- He deserves this- best boy)

Dream: Barn Owl

(Very silent fliers but don’t have water proof feathers so can’t fly well in rain (dream has a fear of storms- it’s all coming together))

Ink: Pelican

(Idk why- it just fits in my mind (he’s not a parrot shut up-))

Error: Secretary Bird

(Long distance and usually one shot attacks- like- these guys are so badass but also rly super dumb- they’re perfect)

Nightmare: Raven

(Only the edgiest bird for the lord of angsty teens (but also a super smart king of negativity ig)

Killer: Magpie

(Smart, dangerous and easily distracted by shiny things)

Dust: Herron

(Very precise, well timed, attacks in multiple different terrains via super sharp beak)

Horror: Wedged Tailed Eagle

(These things take out paragliders- you can’t tell me a tank like horror wouldn’t be one of these)

Cross: Woodpecker

(It was either this or a chicken and I don’t want the cross fangirls after me-)

Fresh: Cuckoo

(Parasites.)

—-

(Plus My AUs (for funnies))

Barrier: Swan

(Anger issues go brrrrr- also he’s pretty but an asshole <3<3)

Idle: Osprey

(They can sometimes track their prey for miles and have versatile talons(technically this is spoilers but y’all don’t have context yet lol))

Spoke: Lovebird

(Very smart but usually underestimated and thought of as ‘weak’)

Rivper: Arctic Tern

(Who better to be a multiverse taxi then someone who literally won’t stop migrating)

Helical: Burrowing Owl

(Lives in the desert, attracted to shiny things and hides from the sun- it’s literally him- what more can I say)

Climate: Red Winged Fairy-Wren

(his colour palette, loves storms and doesn’t have a neck)

Idk, I may draw some of these if y’all are interested but this is just a dumb little idea that’s probably rly badly thought out

But I like birbs and I like this so u have to deal with it (:

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merklins · 1 month

Text

BEHOLD! THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

Various hlvrv characters as ponys (: A full list does indeed exist, BUT! These are the silly guys I've drawn for you today. Under the cut, as I! Have now gone into WAY more detail than I thought I would haha.

Player- A Pegasus, inspired by the European Turtle Dove and Komorner Tumbler Pigeon! (He is not pictured here BUT. I also have a Saxon Fairy Swallow assignment set aside for Power Trip) I'd probably give him more armor in the future for the HEV suit, BUT! Little leg guards is what he's got for now. And also a little band on one leg like you see on pigeons for tracking and scientific purposes. Because SCIENCE and BLACK MESA! And honestly I thought it'd just look cool for him to have the little lambda band on his leg after all's over with and he isn't carrying around an entire HEV suit anymore. The other front leg is where he would put anything else, like friendship bracelets or "hey hold onto this for a minute" or what have you.

Doc- A Pegasus, BUT BETTER! After an accident in the Green Department of the rainbow factory, he now glows... GREEN! Surprising! And also she has various bat pony traits Which she now uses her epic and cool inventions to help with. Like the robot arms! He's inspired by a Rufous hummingbird, mostly. Actual flight is finicky because of the hummingbird and bat pony wing combination, BUT! They can indeed hover and zip a little! As they deserve. (This drawing was done before I picked hummingbird specifcially, but now she's got much tinier wings like a hummingbird, that are feathery at the base but extend out into more bat-like wings!)

Loverboy- As Gordon B he would be an Earth Pony, BUT! There's this wonderful wonderful Generation 3 episode where- [I am sent to the abyss for referencing this single episode for the third time on blog] WHERE THE EARTH PONYS GET HUGE MAGIC GIANT BUTTERFLY WINGS THAT LOOK SO AWESOME AND COOL. Loverboy is that (:

(THE EPISODE IS CALLED TWO FOR THE SKY)

Sleepless- A Griffon! Violet-Backed Starling is the main inspiration, but I DID take a little bit from the White-Breasted Ground Dove as well. The other half that isn't a bird I used a Clouded Leopard because. cloud... fog... the purple stuff... it was a REACH, but it looks cool so I win either way. I didn't draw it in this one, but I imagine his regular sleeping mask is a little more like a cowl you'd see in Falconing. One of the masks that slide on and cover the entire upper face. Also I know Griffons are basically pony sized, but also I write the canon here and Sleepless gets to be taller than ponies by a large margin. Just for fun, a little treat for me.

Valentine- A Unicorn! But as opposed to other unicorns I have slotted in the hlvrv roster, they take a lot of inspiration from that classic unicorn look. You know the one, probably. A lot of MLP redesigns change the unicorns to look like it and its SO cool. But Spork and Valentine are the only ones I really did that with this time around, other then a couple guys who got the little unicorn beard. You also probably know the one. I think I stole their cutie mark from somewhere by mistake, so apologies for that, BUT!! In other news, Valentine and the Love Letters all very VERY specifically have the little heart-shaped hoof thing going on. For the Aesthetic, y'know?

CLOWN NEO FUNNY GUY CLOWN NEO!! Neo himself is an Earth Pony, BUT! In Nightmare Circus? He has all that cool dressage that carousel horses and circus ponies wear SUCH AS! One of those cool decorative head pieces that are meant to make them look like a unicorn. EXCEPT. Because this is a dream and you can do whatever you want, It ACTUALLY works as a functional magic horn and he can pull all KINDS of magic tricks and shenanigans with it!

AAAAAND PING FOR FRIEND WHO RAMBLED WITH ME FOR HOURS ON THE MATTER TO HELP ME ASSIGN THEM ALL! YES, ALL OF THEM! @bbeeohazardd

#m scribbles #hlvrv #hlvrv roster

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taffydragonart · 6 months

Text

Sonic OC Showdown Q&A!

Logo by @bunnymajo ! Thanks! :D @sonic-oc-showdown runs this show.

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

My dad says "smidgeon" a lot, as well as "sukoshi" which means roughly the same thing. In my brain, only one word comes after "smidgeon", which is "pigeon", and one day I was actually in the right place and time and with the right energy levels to start doodling a pigeon OC named Smidgeon.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

12 years old.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

He's not particularly interested in anyone, though he does keep a photo or two of Wave the Swallow on hand. He'll tell you he just likes her aesthetic.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

If you're the type who loves pizza but hates the crust, you may soon find yourself with a new feathery best friend. He loves bread of all kinds.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Too young to have a steady job. He's rather earn his rings from winning kart race competitions.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Kart racing! You can often find him down at the go-cart track in the park in Central City, rocking his custom build, the Smidge Special.

🎯 -What do they do best?

Besides kart racing, he's also quite adept at pre-race trash-talking.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Smidgeon loves making and breaking his personal speed records. They hate having to stand and wait for any reason.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Witnessing the Babylon Rogues winning their big Extreme Gear race. He was one of the spectators for the event.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

He was once stranded alone on a high rooftop for several hours when he tried to fly in bad weather, having gotten hurt when he was caught in a strong gust and crashed. He hasn't flown higher than street level since.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

A few changes were made within the past couple of days, but his current design is roughly the same as his first, just a bit shorter and stockier.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Just hearing "smidgeon pigeon" in my head and wanting to design a Sonic OC around that.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Smidgeon is a Sonic gameverse character.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

He identifies as male and is heteroromantic demisexual.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

None, he's an only child.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

He still maintains a relationship with his parents, though he is very independent. He writes them on occasion.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

He's a silly little bird with a silly name.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Not as often as I should.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No!

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Getting stranded on a rooftop during a bad storm has left him with a fear of falling from high places.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Everyone's his rival in a kart race!

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I really just created him last Tuesday or so.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

40.

#socs 2 poll #socs 2 propaganda #socs 2: smidgeon

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i-did-not-mean-to · 10 months

Text

Obedience

@cilil - demon-spawn from Hell - has pitched two of my best boys. Of course, I could not resist! LOL 😁

Please be advised, this is a spicy fic, containing the prompt "Cockwarming" from the summerofcum prompt list.

All credit for the composition and elements goes to @cilil too. We have long conversations on discord that nobody must ever read 🙈

So...here we go...Week 2 ("Summer Festival" is still waiting for a claimer! )

Words: 1538

Characters: Eönwë x Gothmog

Prompt: Campfire - Cockwarming

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rimming, anal penetration

Eönwë looked around, scanning his surroundings frantically, as one awoken from a fever dream.

How long had he been walking aimlessly into the wilderness in his attempt to flee the busily milling crowds that he perpetually needed to inform of some Vala's new decree or prohibition?

Dutiful and sober, he did not object to the crushing workload resting on his broad shoulders but—at times—he yearned to spread his wings and feel nought but his Lord’s merciful wind against his unguarded face.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine—even after all the time that had passed since the death of the two trees, Eönwë still struggled to remember that the silver moon gave much less warmth than the golden sun.

Sighing, he made to turn back; it was outright undignified and shameful how far he had run without noticing and now, he had been surprised by the faltering heat seeping out of the ground underfoot to dissolve in the misty night air.

Just as he took heart at the thought that he would simply hasten back to his post without wasting a single look or thought on this wild, abandoned land outside of the dwelling places of Valar and Eldar, a flicker of red caught his eye.

"It is forbidden to kindle a fire," he started to remonstrate with the delinquent who had apparently thought to counteract the creeping chill by starting a campfire to warm themselves by.

"In the name of Eru and the big bird, yes, yes," a gravelly, raucous voice drawled. "I want to draw your attention to the fact that I did not indeed set ablaze any of the hallowed creations of the high and mighty Valar you seem to serve so diligently."

Drawing closer, Eönwë stopped dead in his tracks.

What he had mistaken for a merrily burning fire was—he could now discern this with humbling clarity—the naked body of a Balrog.

"Detestable foe!" he thundered, lifting his arm as if to strike before he remembered that he had set out woefully unarmed, not expecting to meet an ancient enemy this far from the hubs of civilisation.

The Balrog turned slowly, his eyes gleaming like gems backlit by the fire of Aulë’s forge, and gave a delighted chuckle.

"If it is not the messenger bird, sweet carrier pigeon of the Valar," he purred, sitting up on his haunches without any noticeable consideration or shame concerning his shocking nudity. "You may call me 'foe' if that is your pleasure, but I'd much rather you use my name."

"Which would be?" Eönwë asked with feigned distaste and ignorance.

Of course, it was rather simple for him to recognise Gothmog—Lord of Balrogs—who had been amongst the last to have been returned to this plane of existence and granted a physical body once more.

"Have you come then to demand further penance?" Gothmog asked, a wry smile stretching his lips into something sharp and vaguely threatening. "Or is it a re-enactment of your greatest triumphs that you seek?"

Glowing eyes observed every twitch rippling across Eönwë's face with undisguised curiosity.

"Oh," Gothmog hummed, "it is a defeat you're looking for. Do you want me to take this weight off your shoulders—throw you down and hold you still? I can do that; I am good at it."

It was a bold claim that made Gothmog's tail lash about in an involuntary admission of nervousness.

To his own astonishment, Eönwë paused and considered that offer. He had not expected to find the idea so alluring, but now that he allowed himself to drink in the bulging muscles and iridescent skin of the creature eyeing him speculatively, he had to admit that his body tensed in joyous anticipation.

The thought of handing over the reins to someone else for a while sounded too delicious to be fully fathomed.

Momentarily, he hesitated but the insidious chill that was swirling up from the now damp ground was so wonderfully chased by a burning hot hand setting on his shoulder that he let out a shuddering sigh.

He was well aware of the peril he was in, but the tension between his worst apprehensions and his most depraved hopes only exacerbated his desire to lean into the yet innocent, casual caress.

"Ready to get your feathers singed, little bird?" Gothmog murmured, leaning towards Eönwë in a cloud of soothing warmth and smoky fragrance.

Elegant and elemental as a volcano bursting with veins of liquid fire, he towered over the herald in a way that made Eönwë feel almost delicate and frail in comparison.

Despite the erroneous accounts coursing through the tales of the Children, Gothmog was merely wreathed in flame rather than having actual, functional wings.

Thus, he plucked playfully at the long, white feathers covering the impressive appendages that adorned Eönwë's strong back.

"Beautiful," he whispered and started circling the radiant, immaculate hero of wars long past like a huge, hungry lizard cornering a guileless dove.

"What heinous crimes will you do unto a servant of Manwë?" Eönwë gasped as the seemingly innocuous touch thrummed along his every nerve to set his core aflame.

"Worry not," Gothmog promised, "your defilement will be wrought of pleasure and obedience."

This was a game they both knew only too well and Eönwë knees buckled automatically—he had kneeled countless times in the name of duty, and he felt no humiliation at performing this old-familiar gesture of reverence.

Already, his acute awareness of the despicable identity of the presence looming over him like a nefarious shadow was fading fast, supplanted by a shameful neediness that knew neither morality nor bounds.

"No whips," Gothmog laughed in a muted voice, "just delicious pain."

With a quick flick of his wrist—an undeniable testament to his skills—he wrapped the long, silken strands of Eönwë's hair around his palm and tugged none too gently.

Eönwë's back arched and his wings trembled, but he did not shift from his position.

Heat was flooding back into his limbs, hitherto stiff with cold, and he gave another throaty moan of relief.

"I've not even started," Gothmog jeered and, with a single swipe of his deadly claws, tore his invaluable garments, fashioned by the deathless hands of the most exalted of the Valar, right off Eönwë's pliable body.

Even though his torturer had sworn that his trusty and universally dreaded whip would not be used, Eönwë felt a lash of searing heat against his buttocks and yelped.

Still, he did not pull away as that torturous thread of magma pushed its way into his body, swirling lazily against the innermost walls of his integrity and lapping teasingly at hidden pressure points that made him see his Lady's most cherished creations dance wildly behind his closed lids.

His bones seemed to melt and, when he felt Gothmog shift behind him, he braced for the unleashing of furious violence that would burn him clean of his doubts and misgivings.

Vowing that he would not give Gothmog the satisfaction of quailing and squirming in terror, Eönwë lifted his chin proudly and fixed his eyes upon the horizon.

It was as he braced as inconspicuously as possible, that he noticed how both the cold and the pervasive boredom that had plagued him had dissolved under the ministrations of that hot tongue, opening and stretching him with the diligent, purposeful determination of one who could but obey his natural inclination to do things properly.

Pressure. Heat. Bliss.

Eönwë let out a garbled cry as a pillar of flame seemed to shoot up through his spine—part of him now almost welcomed and craved the anticipated and dreaded pain that was surely to follow.

As soon as he was fully seated within the hallowed herald though, Gothmog stilled.

Staring at the back of Eönwë's head, in a secluded, deserted clearing, he realised that he was free to do whatever he wanted to Manwë's servant.

Recollections of the exquisite works of blood and bone he had wrought in the past flashed through his mind—Gothmog knew that the storm of carnage and devastation he could unleash upon this docile pet bird would be glorious to behold indeed.

His blood sang with covetousness at the thought of hurting Eönwë in ways that would make him beg for the utter dissolution of his own flesh. Yes, Gothmog thought, the choice was his and the power flowing through his veins was intoxicating and corrupting.

To their shared astonishment, it turned out that what he truly desired was to curl around that strong, winged back and shield it from the cutting, cold air biting into their skin.

"Aren't you a pretty bird?" he cooed, carefully dislodging small fragments of twigs from between the shiny, soft feathers vacillating in front of his blurry eyes.

"What..." Eönwë gasped, pressing back into that arousing heat piercing him to the core. "Why won't you move?"

"Penance," Gothmog replied calmly and went on smoothing and petting the shivering wings with tender care while soaking in Eönwë's intimate, sweet heat with self-indulgent abandon.

"Standing still, you know," he added wisely as he pressed a searing kiss onto the nape of that slender, pale neck beckoning to him, "is not always a bad thing."

@fellowshipofthefics Here's the second one for the second week then :)

Thank you @cilil for progressively poisoning my mind! LOL This was a pleasure to write <3

Lots of love <3

#og post #fotfics july event #Eönwë #Gothmog #Eönwë x Gothmog #Gotty best boy #Campfire #fotfics summer stories #Week 2 #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #summerofcum2023

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