#aelirium

[umbysial]

❓❓❓❓❓

@aelirium

[fowlfelon]

@aelirium || 💜 for the S1 based starter that is five days late sorry, ilyyy

The club, opening night, it had felt triumphant, his first real win in the game of Gotham ━ right up until now, that is. It's been two hours since opening, people have come, perhaps not as many as he would have liked, but they had come, though the truth was none of them mattered, the one who did, the sole person in Gotham he'd wanted to see, sitting at a table or within one of the booths was Detective James Gordon.

Oswald had imagined it so many times in the privacy of his mind: The shine of neon light across polished tables and his name above the door, his chosen music wafting through the air, his staff moving briskly through a room full of Gotham's hungry little moths drawn to the newest flame, the one with his name above the door. Oswald's.

The very thought of it had made something warm and pleasent flutter in his chest, but now, as he stands at its centre, before the stage that he'd redecorated in blues, purple and silver, in contrast to the gold, red and maroon that had once belonged to Fish Mooney, that feeling dulls to a throb of withered disappointment.

There was no Jim Gordon. That was irritating, disappointing beyond words, but he shouldn't have been surprised, no. Jim Gordon was picking up a talent for making Oswald feel foolish precisely when he had made the mistake of hoping he might not, even though he was the man Oswald really had to thank for all of it.

What part of that did the detective not get? The absence needled at him — the space where that familiar face ought to have been. But then Oswald saw someone else sitting in one of his booths, another face, recently familiar to him. When the recognition struck, his expression sharpened.... The strange man from the GCPD. The one with the question about emperor penguins — a comment Oswald hadn't believed had been innocent, no matter how wide-eyed and awkwardly sincere the man had looked while saying it. It was an encounter strange even for Oswald's standards.

People had mocked him too often for him to think it was nothing but some harmless bird fact offered as a token of friendship. And yet… There he was. He wore a smile that felt oddly genuine — rather than something mocking or cruel, he was alone, not with anyone, not whispering behind his hands with friends he'd brought to observe Oswald's.... Individuality, and not skulking in some dark corner like an enemy sent to observe him, he was simply sitting there, as though he had every right to be here.

It struck Oswald then that this man must have overheard his invitation to Jim and decided — impossibly, bizarrely — that it extended to him.

Oswald's gaze flared, his hand tightening on the expensive bottle of liquor he hadn't yet ferried back to the bar, now with every intention of breaking it against the head of the bespectacled man before him as he moved, limping forward with a sort of sharp menace that betrayed the very movement itself.

Fortunately for Edward, Oswald's enraged suspicion sat juxtapositioned to his morbid curiosity and with a smile that showed just enough teeth to be both pleasent and threatening in one he stopped at the booth Ed sat at, noting the man had watched him with that same oddly pleasant grin on his face as he did. ❝ Hello again! ❞ he announced, beaming with sunhine and venom both at once. ❝ You are the man from the GCPD earlier, aren't you ? ❞ he doesn't let Ed answer, instead he places himself down in the seat across from Ed, with alarming speed as he snaps another question. ❝ What do you want?! ❞

[umbysial]

@aelirium : ( claim ) - my muse puts a collar on your muse // For Dabi ... From Shig.. Because I'm sure you remember the convo we had.... || NSFW MEMES. Accepting. 🩵

"My dick has led me to places I wouldn't even go with a gun". Not really the kind of phrase Dabi would have ever thought applied to himself, and yet what other excuse did he really have? Here he was, knees pressed against the absurdly plush carpet of the Meta Liberation Army's guest suite ━ the kind of opulent, impersonal luxury that felt like a stage set for someone else's obscene fantasy ━ definitely not his and not Tomura's, yet here they both were, and this had indeed, awkwardly, been their idea.

Some kind of... Weird, mutual curiosity, the kind that had, apparently, produced a collar ━ a thin strip of black leather which Dabi imagined must have been lifted from some kink shop or liberated from a dead pervert's closet, or maybe it really did belong to some loser's dog? Whatever the case may have been, he'd let Tomura put it around his neck as he knelt here, his shirt and coat discarded over the chair off to the side. He realised this made him the new loser's dog, but whatever, he's decided he'd allow it out of that same twisted curiosity that brought him here in the first place.

Still, a smirk tugged at his burned lips, sharp and a little defensive as Tomura finishes fastening the leather piece around his neck and takes a step back, looking almost like he was admiring his work. The boy king, with the newly acquired army he barely knew what to do with and Dabi? Well, Dabi liked to consider himself more his dragon than his dog. After all, he was the one breathing fire.

❝ You must be into some real kinky shit to get this idea, huh? Gotta warn ya, though, 'm not a very good dog. 'M not housebroken. I'll piss on your carpet, bite your hand,❞ his head tilts slightly to the side as he gives Tomura pointed look up and down, something devious simmering in his sharp blue eyes. ❝ Hump your leg- but, you're probably into all that, huh? That it? You want me to start humpin' your leg, boss? ❞

The question came with that lopsided, tightly stapled grin, something smug and teasing, but under the sarcasm and the taunting vulgarity of it, his heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs, and he's not completely sure why. It could have been the kneeling, or the awkward, suffocating newness of it all, or the worst part... The fact that he wanted to see what exactly Shigaraki would do with him now that he had him collared.

[umbysial]

@aelirium || Sorry Hawks, he's just like this.

The city still smouldered from the earlier battle between Tomura and that big-nosed CEO weirdo. Dabi managed to miss the whole thing, much to his disappointment, given Spinner hadn't shut up about it, and according to the Lizard, it was quite the spectacle. The boss had been awesome, and Dabi HAD to believe it, given how Gigantomachia had folded.

He doesn't look up at first when Hawks opens his mouth, something teasing about him being stuck on the ground while Hawks himself perched himself up on the skeleton of a building that had crumpled down to its knees in the wake of the battle. Dabi stares up at him, eyes narrowing slightly. His father used flames to propel himself into the air, to navigate weightlessly through the sky as if he had the ability to fly... It was really damn cool.

But Toya was never one to let his father's lack of interest in teaching him any of his awesome hero moves get in the way of learning them. He'd seen it done countless times, and that was, in his mind, all he needed. ❝ Tch… Y'think I need wings to get up there? Guess again, number two.❞

A step back. Then another, and before he can think about it anymore, Dabi charges forward, using a ruined slab of concrete as a ramp; flames bloom at his feet, detonating the heat beneath him and launching him skyward. It's a reckless, unpractised thing, but he twists mid-air, the flames turning him to land those same boots against the concrete to Hawks' left.

He wobbles slightly, arms out to balance himself, eyes wide with a manic grin on his face that screams disbelief at his own feat ━ if the little laugh that managed to escape him, sudden and ragged, wasn't enough. A quick recovery, and he pushes himself to lean against the tower of mangled concrete, hoping to look as cool as he feels right now.

❝ See. ❞

[run-muse-dot-exe]

It's covered in blood, but with Chizome, that's relatively normal. He's quite proud of himself.

are you fuyumi's type - open

"Was this even in question, Chizochan...?"

Even so, she is still blushing.