Welcome to my blog! My name’s Eagle, but y’all can also call me Bird or Glider. My pronouns are he/they, I’m autistic, and I’m very silly. Keep that in mind when interacting.
If I ever get anything wrong or say anything wrong, feel free to correct me, I like growing and changing as a person. You can also ask me to tag things, but there’s some things that I won’t tag because they relate to my interests, such as bugs and blood. Severe gore and flashing lights and eyestrain will be tagged.
Warning: I reblog some risqué Deltarune fanart (mainly of Tenna). Block #wireplay and #deltaruined if you don’t wanna see that stuff. Block #suggestive too, just to be safe.
Art Blog: @eagle-actually-draws
Hollow Knight OC Ask Blog: @ebony-the-ant-askblog
Shark Plush Blog: @eagles-shark-sanctuary
DNI list:
- Hazbin/Helluva/Vivziepop stans and proshippers stay away forever. I hate those shows so much and I’m not wasting my breath on people who think it’s ok to ship siblings together or adults and children together.
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Hello, random person who found my channel! My name is Eagle, but I also go by Bird and Glider. This channel just sorta exists for not much o
(Content warnings: drunk characters, suggestive but nothing too crazy. Still intended to be PG-13!)
Artist: @rowan-ravenwood-art
(a.n: these are not any specific versions of Harvey and Oswald, rather me and Rowan’s versions. If they seem out of character, that’s because they’ve been changed around. Canon is ours!)
Calm Friday night in Gotham. Or as calm as it usually is. The normal smog and demeanors were present in the city, but one place stands out among the rest of the buildings.
The notable Iceberg Lounge.
Harvey Dent, the popular rogue Two-Face, was spending his night here, drinking away. Oswald had invited him after a successful chain of heists, and after way too many drinks, it formed into a party.
There were some small rogues, some regulars, various people with both good and bad reputations around. But the only big-time rogues were Harvey and the owner of the lounge, Oswald Cobblepot. The one and only Penguin.
A little bit of Harvey’s drink splashed onto him when he drank, being a bit too tipsy but not enough to completely lose his senses. He still heard Oswald on stage, of course.
“Thank you, thank you.” It was clear from Oswald’s speech and behavior that he was drunk as well. His tie was loosened and he had a few kiss marks on his cheeks.
Damn bird knows how to charm everyone in Gotham.
“You’ve all been great tonight, everyone, really. Tips are very appreciated, ‘course. But I’d like to bring y’all to the main event.”
Harvey was barely listening, but he definitely did when he heard his name called.
“Harvey! Harvey Dent, darling, sweetheart. Get over here.”
There was some applause and chatter amongst the crowd as Harvey stumbled up on stage. He wasn’t drunk enough to be stupid, but he did climb the stage instead of using the stairs. After a few more grunts and pulling, he got up and stood next to Oswald.
Looking around the crowd, Harvey could see some curiosity in their eyes and behavior. Oswald rarely does this during parties. He always wanted to be the center of attention, Harvey thought.
So why would he be called onstage? Before Harvey can say anything, Oswald puts a hand on his shoulder, dragging him down slightly.
“This sweet sunshine right here, Dent my friend, you’ve done wonders for the Lounge. How’ve you been enjoying yourself, dearie?”
The mic is shoved to Harvey’s face. He can hear himself breathe.
“Uh-uhh—” Harvey’s not sure what to say. He never does when he’s drunk.
“W-Well, we’ve been drinking, chatting, enjoying ourself. Nice lounge.”
He’s stumbling over his words, just saying whatever comes to mind that’s appropriate. Oswald’s just been nodding along, with that ever so smug smile. His rambling faltered when he felt Oswald’s hand go down his side, pausing when reaching his backside.
A classic move by Penguin. His flirtations quickly become physical, depending on the person. And Harvey was absolutely the person.
But Oswald didn’t do anything other than slide his hand to Harvey’s waist, holding it closely. Harvey couldn’t help but feel himself heat up.
“That’s wonderful, darling. Love hearing you speak, sunshine.”
There’s a cheekiness to Oswald’s tone.
“But what you’ve said isn’t what the people came here for. I’m showing ‘em what you’re really here for.”
The grip on his waist tightened, and the anxiety in Harvey rose. There’s no way Oswald could—
The doors burst open, crashing to the ground. The patrons of the Lounge scream and drop their drinks, starting to flee. Harvey can hear sirens outside, and Oswald lets go of him and takes his hand.
“Come on, Dent. This way. Now!”
Harvey felt woozy from everything. The stimulation from the loud sirens and screaming to Oswald grabbing him and forcing him to run while drunk…how did he not just puke on the spot?
Everything felt weird. Harvey didn’t know where he was running, but he just knew to run. Run, don’t lose Oswald, run run, that’s a patron, run run, that’s a door—
He slams face first into the door, the pain making him dizzy.
“Oo, sorry there, princess.” Oswald unlocks the door and drags Harvey out, locking it in the process. They ended up in a dark alleyway, and just continued to run until their legs just couldn’t anymore.
They panted and sighed from their running. God, the running was so much. Harvey could feel sweat seep into his clothes. His hair was frazzled, his long white hair stained from the dirtiness of the ground and others stepping on it.
He looked over at Oswald and…was he always this incredibly attractive?
His tie was now lost completely, and his shirt underneath his coat stuck out slightly. His hair was no longer tied up, and it was messy over his face and head. Harvey’s seen Oswald disheveled before, but to this level? It was almost…intoxicating. Or maybe he was just too drunk.
“Huh-Os-Oswald, I-I think we lost them.” Harvey could barely get his words out, but then something new happened.
Oswald pressed him against the wall and grabbed his face. He went in for a deep, long kiss.
Harvey squeaked in surprise, shocked by the kiss. He nearly wanted to pull away but…god, Oswald hits all the right spots. It was euphoric, in a way.
When Oswald broke away, Harvey was slightly out of breath. “…Was that ok, sweetheart?”
Harvey just nodded, panting even more.
This caused Oswald to retain his smug smile. “Then why don’t I treat you right?”
He went back in for a kiss, this time yanking Harvey’s tie to pull him in with one hand, the other grabbing Harvey’s hair. His lips were surprisingly soft, his teeth feeling heavenly against Harvey’s lips. That’s how Harvey found out that the Penguin bites.
After Oswald got bored with Harvey’s mouth, he started to trail down Harvey’s neck. He snuck in little bites, causing Harvey to whine and let out small little sounds.
“Ah, god Oswald, god. You’re so wonderful.”
As Oswald was trailing down, Harvey started unbuttoning his suit blazer. He had no idea what he was thinking, he couldn’t focus for a goddamn second. All he can think about is Oswald’s mouth on him, and how heavenly he feels.
Of course, Oswald sees this and grabs Harvey’s blazer once it’s off. He drops it on the ground, chuckling.
“Oh, this is what you wanted, sunshine?” He leaned in closer, nibbling Harvey’s ear. “Well, who am I to deny you, sweetie? You’ve done so well.”
Harvey whimpers quietly as Oswald unbuttons his shirt, trailing kisses down his collarbone as he does so. He feels Oswald’s hands on his hips, one moving down to squeeze his backside.
“And you have the finest body I’ve ever seen.”
Harvey squeaks and whines from every touch and kiss. He wanted so much. This was blissful. He’s missed this feeling of being loved. Ever since Gilda’s death, he thought he could never be loved again. But that wasn’t true anymore. He was Oswald’s toy now. And he was enjoying every second.
Oswald began loosening Harvey’s belt too, but before he could get it off, the two of them heard sirens.
“Penguin and Two-Face. You’re completely surrounded. Comply and nobody needs to open fire.”
Six officers ran in as the alert went off, and they all froze at the sight.
The sight of Harvey pinned to the wall, kiss and bite marks left all over him, and nearly shirtless. Harvey knew his face and body must’ve been pure red. He could feel the burning of shame and humiliation.
Oswald, meanwhile, didn’t seem too affected. “Would you mind? We’re kinda busy.” He deeply makes out with Harvey, albeit sloppily.
Before he could do much, though, the officers pulled them both away. They made several snide remarks that Harvey couldn’t hear exactly, but it didn’t matter as they were handcuffed and driven away.
“Let’s go somewhere, you and me” with Shocksterio?
Ask and ye shall receive!
It’d been a while since they had a night like this: Quentin Beck and Montana not having to worry about the bug, just them joking and playing pool in Montana’s bar after hours.
“And so I said, ‘Oh but Spider-Man, you are in a pickle!’ And then I dropped a pickle prop on him!”
Montana let out a hearty laugh, messing up his shot, but it wasn’t like he cared. Quentin laughed along with him.
“Darling, I can’t tell whether you’re the funniest guy I’ve met or the stupidest.” He smiled at Quentin, his gold tooth shining in the light hanging over them.
“It could never be the latter, Mysterio is no idiot!” Quentin did a dramatic hand motion as if he were still in his Mysterio get up.
“There’s some people out there who could beg to differ.” Montana chuckled.
Quentin rolled his eyes. “Well, even though the spider got away again, at least I still got what I needed.”
Montana stood up from his position over the pool table. “Is that so? What was the job this time?”
He shrugged. “Otto just had me steal some machinery. It wasn’t easy but it’s better than that time he wanted me to get some money. Can you believe how difficult it is to open a vault while also juggling multiple illusions to throw at Spider-Man?”
Montana smirked, going back to lining up his shot. “Can only imagine, sugar.”
Quentin glanced away, grinning. As he paused, he began to think. Could this maybe be the night he would…but Montana wouldn’t…well, gotta find out.
“Hey, Montana?”
Montana stood up, facing him. “Yes?”
Before Quentin could open his mouth, he felt his stomach turning. He would always be in awe of the Enforcer, how his long russet hair flowed perfectly behind him. How his scars, while could be seen as unnerving, brought attention to his strength and resilience. His one scarred eye still managed to see so much in Quentin. He was the perfect man for him.
He shook his head. “Montana, let’s go somewhere, you and me.”
The Enforcer blinked. “Alright, sugar. Where’re we going?”
Quentin grabbed his hand. “I wanna show you something, something I’ve wanted to bring you to for a while.”
Montana smiled. “Sure then.”
***
It took a while of sneaking around, they were criminals after all, trying to avoid places where Spider-Man often swung around, and a lot of “Your place must be far, hun,” but eventually, the two got to just outside their destination.
Before the two went in, Quentin covered Montana’s eyes with his hands. “Now, now, no peeking just yet. It’s a surprise.”
Montana chuckled. “Alright then, I promise.”
Doing his best to navigate Montana around, Quentin led him to the surprise, trying to not cause Montana to trip.
Quentin stopped walking and removed his hands from Montana’s eyes. “So, what do you think?”
Montana stood in front of Quentin’s surprise, and what did he see?
A room, with a giant hole in the wall, or where there should be a wall, as a sort of window to all of Queens. The walls had paintings and stolen art hanging on them, with a rug in front of the hole. There were cabinets to the sides as well, with a rouge couch with two pillows on them. The hustle of the city sounded so distant, and the night sky above sparkled with stars.
Quentin Beck’s special abode, for his nights of peace.
“Not even Mason knows of this place. It’s not too much but—”
“Wow.” Montana walked a little bit around, observing the room. “How long did it take you to set this all up?”
“Oh, not much.” Quentin went and sat down on the rug, looking out towards the city. “I obviously had to steal some stuff, like the couch and art, and had to install the cabinets myself for just-in-case situations, it took a while.”
Montana looked back at Quentin and sat down next to him. “Y’know, despite the giant hole here, this place looks pretty well kept.”
“I actually like this view.” Quentin glanced over at Montana and then glanced back out. “It reminds me of how the world’s a stage, and someone out there is watching us perform. And us, the characters, set on a stage that, despite its troubles and flaws, can actually be beautiful. The stars are our stage lights, and the traffic below is our orchestra.”
Montana chuckled. “You’ve been rehearsing that one for a while, huh?”
Quentin rammed his head into Montana’s shoulder playfully. “Knock it off!”
“I’m kidding!” Montana laughed again.
The two looked back out up to the stars, observing how they shone and twinkled, clouds not being able to hide their beauty.
“I’ve wanted to take you up here for so long, ever since we started dating,” Quentin said, not taking his gaze off of the stars.
“Oh really?”
“Yes, well, it’s because…” Quentin turned over to Montana, placing his hands on the other’s hand. “I’ve just wanted to say that—”
Montana turned over to Quentin, meeting his gaze. “Enough.”
Montana grabbed Quentin’s chin and kissed him. Quentin’s eyes widened, but returned the kiss by grabbing Montana’s head and pushing further into the kiss.
