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@versezlesangre
welcome to happy phantoms, an independent rp blog featuring marvel, dead by daylight, OCs and more. Dark themes and questionable content contained herein; selective about writing partners, author’s name is skunk. 21+ only. will do my best to tag. this is a placeholder it’ll look prettier later (this last sentence was a lie).
It's been a really, really long night - a really long, really messy night. Kate, at some point, drifted off to sleep, but Gwen's fought drowsiness the whole night - she's not making class today, that much is sure.
But when the sun starts cracking over the rooftops over Hell's Kitchen she does hazard to stumble sleepily downstairs, and wanders up the street far enough to get a few amenities that Kate needs. Because she seems to thrive on remarkably little.
She gets back, and its like the weight of the whole evening comes crashing down on her all at once - its all she can do to take stuff out of their bags and stash them where they go; some fruit, some sausage, some milk, some eggs.
When that's done, she finds her way to the couch where Kate is laid out and covered up. She doesn't want to wake her, so she sits down next to the pull-out and pulls her knees to her chest before resting her head on them, watching Kate sleep, the rise and fall of her breathing - that proves too entrancing, though, and she's drifting to sleep before long.
=== @pastcourage
Lads is it gay to want to be hunted by Shauna Shipman
She doesn't expect the heady rush of coming just like this - Kate had always thought that this specifically would be hard for her. Something to ease into. Something to put off. Something to fear. But with Gwen, she feels comforted. She feels safe. She'd realized it earlier, but as she feels Gwen thrusting - not stopping even as her entire body tenses and flutters and quivers and - she feels protected.
It as she comes to this realization and starts to come down from it that she feels Gwen's teeth sink deep into the crook of her neck and she can't help herself. "Ah! Fuck - " It's a yelp, born from the unexpected pain that rockets through her body and sends hot, wet heat straight between her thighs. She can tell there's a bit of broken skin, blood pooling in the teeth marks that Gwen's left on her, but god - the sensation compared with her hips moving, feeling her inside. Her thighs tighten again. Just a little more--
Her hands go to Gwen's face, though, seeing the worry on her features - the inky black sclera. "It's okay." She breathes out, chest heaving, rolling her hips upwards with more force. "It's okay. I liked it. Feel me?"
Kate's fingers hold her there, stroking against her cheeks. "I trust you. I trust her." She has no choice right now but to trust Venom, as vulnerable as she is. But she would have said it before now. And she would have said it after. "Please.. fuck - You're gonna make me come again, Gwen."
There's a tightness in between Gwen's legs for a moment and then it's like somebody throws a pressure valve and she groans as she bites down, tastes the hot, red of blood, and between Kate's moans and her own hard breaths she realizes what's she's done. "I'm- I'm sorry, Kate, I'm so sorry, I-"
At first its horror, etched into Gwen's crooked, monstrous face, somewhere farflung and halfway between the plucky sleuth of years prior and the thing she is now. Her blue eyes sunken away into dark hollow pits of shadow, spiderwebs veining out from her sockets, from tthe corners of her mouth. This isn't the Gwen Stacy who fell and died and was, by and large, forgotten by the world outside of her immediate friends and family. This was the Gwen who clawed her self out of death, who struck a bargain to buy more time in exchange for her sense of humanity. But if she's so monstrous, why does she - do they feel so very human now, with wet warmth blossoming between their legs, with the heat of prey on their lap, stroking at their cheek. Gwen stops breathing; the Symbiote can do that for her. "It's okay." Kate says. 'It's okay' they hear. It's a quiet, transition, horrifying in broad light, but Gwen Stacy lunges forward, snapping her lips up against Kates, and its an ungainly, monstrous thing, this kiss - unlike Gwen's timid pecks of loping, tongueful affair. This is brutish and crude - hungry. The Symbiote shows itself, all teeth, all curves as it accentuates Gwen's physique; the sleek, shiny surface of it's symbiote skin looks as though it should stain the sheets like ink but it doesn't, and slender, feminine claws wrap around and lift Kate's thigh as they shift position in the bed. Skin-contact with the symbiote should be lethal, even painful, but symbiosis has changed Venom, reigned in it insatiable hunger to consume. Taught it instead to indulge. Instead its a dozen little sensations for every inch of contact as Venom asserts itself, gratifies itself, and gives Kate what she wants; Gwen Stacy - all of her.
Kate winces at the snap, but doesn't let it deter her. When she found out -- she was horrified, of course she was horrified. But it's still Gwen. And she still cares about her, still more than cares about her. "I don't know how I can. All I know is that I want to."
Aside from the first wince, she shows nothing but pure adoration for Gwen - worry for her sure. But otherwise, nothing but love. She lifts her hand to brush some of her hair back, and holds the back of her neck. "Like I said.. I know it's not going to be easy. I'm not looking for easy. I just care about you. If that includes.. eating people and the.. the symbiote, then okay. I'll take that, too."
'I'll take that, too.' The words bounce around inside her skull. Inside their skull. She sees Peter Parker's broken, twisted arm, its costume-gloves shredded and bled through and contorted as it stuck through the rubble of a collapse clocktower. He was going to help her 'get through it' too. And she killed him for his trouble. Hearing somebody repeat her situation back to her is almost too heavy. "You don't know what you're saying. Kate. You think you do but you don't."
Susie will never forget this sight for as long as she might live, and she intends for that to be a long while yet. Julie doesn't fight her, agreeing with her thoughts that they should leave. They exit through the back doors, hand in hand, like two students leaving at the end of a school day, only it's night, and she can still smell the scent of burning hair and flesh as strongly as if they were still in the bathroom. Susie doesn't say a word as they break into a car, and Julie sets to work pulling the wires out from under the dash to try and spark it to life.
Susie can see her eyes reflecting back at her from the window, watching as the smoke begins to curl upwards while the rest of the school is watching the game on the other side of the building. As Julie peels the car out of the lot, Susie rolls down the window and drums paint-flecked fingers along the car's interior. "They can take care of themselves. 'Sides, they're not involved yet and it'll be a lot harder to run with four instead of two." That's only half the reason Susie doesn't want to tell Frank or Joey, even if they are part of their group. There's something thrilling about sharing this kill with just Julie, something that's just theirs.
There's still dried blood crusted on her fingers, and Susie looks down at them in morbid fascination, remembering how easily the knife had slid into their victim's body. "What do you think will happen if the cops catch us?"
She smiles as she touches the wires together and pushes the pedal long enough for the car to turn over. Suze is right. They don't need to worry about the other two.
Julie sits up, pushes her head back onto the headrest, and lets out a deep sigh. The car smells nice. She doesn't know whose it is, but it has a full tank and that will get both of them far enough away for nothing but them to matter. Julie slumps to the side, lets her head fall on Susie's shoulder as she watches smoke backlit with orange poor out of one side of the school. She thinks about cops. She thinks about handcuffs. She smiles. "We'll be fuckin' famous, I bet." she says. "Fuckin' rockstars."
Eleanor's lips turn up into a sneer as she stares at Julie. The 'kiss me' had fallen out from between her lips without so much as a filter - blame it on the anger, blame it on the way she tries to get through her day without thinking of her fucking perfect little family waiting at home. Straightening herself up with a deep breath, she tries to make herself look taller.
The cuts hurt, because she's not an insane person like Julie is. And when she pulls up the mask - Eleanor's lips curl a bit, no longer a sneer but a smile. "Of course." She murmurs, but makes no move to try and run away. The blood smells coppery and she probably should get seen sometime soon - get a tetanus shot at the very least.
"Well? Either get it over with or do what I told you to." It's too bold for the situation, her bleeding like a fucking stuck pig. Honestly - she's not sure which one she wants more, a release or heat.
She moves in closer, like she's doing a pushup against the wall; Julie's knife's edge is slick with red, but it's cleaner than she is; Julie's a rough kid and she looks the part, but there's a pretty girl under the grit and grime; something the football team's mused on endlessly. Jules' lip curls over a pronounced canine; she lets out a huff of laughter, her breath smells like red bull and cheap liquor, all rotten-sweet fruit and alcohol. "You seem to forget which one of us is holding the knife," Julie smirks, crooked teeth flashing in the shade of the dark hallway. "Maybe I think its too good to rush." She lowers her arm, wiping the blade on the leg of her jeans, pushing the tip gently under Eleanor's jaw before she goes in for a kiss, her teeth settling tightly on the other girl's bottom lip after a moment as Julie pulls away.
@versezlesangre / closed starter.
The newly burgeoning friendship with Gwen was a delicate one. The two of them working together while Kate went out to knock heads together was fun, not at all easy. But it meant one less life that she had to hide from her. What Gwen didn't know is that at the end of the day when she cut comms, she used the muggers and the low level goons for sustenance. Just a bite here or there to stave off the worst of the hunger, keep her fed and stable.
But each day it seemed like she needed to take more and more.
She'd cut comms an hour ago and her teeth sank into the second guy's neck, lapping at the blood. Kate only allowed herself a bit from each person and it was that limiting that put her in this mess to begin with.
She lathed at the wounds with her tongue, sealing it closed so he'd be none the wiser when he finally awoke. Setting him down gently, she whipped her head at the sound of footsteps behind her.
"You followed me?"
It was supposed to be a fun thing, really. Peter used the little web trackers to follow people when he needed to, and so, Gwen figured, why not work on their own? She could have borrowed some from him, of course, but he'd surely notice them missing, and then he'd surely lecture her, and she'd surely like to avoid that, and so she'd made her own, slyly stuck one inside Kate's quiver, and followed her at a distance all night - always a couple blocks off just to make sure they worked. It'd been the goal to pop out and surprise her and share the commute with her and show off the trackers. But when she lingered one spot too long, Gwen's curiosity got the best of her. "I... I didn't mean..." To what? To sneak up on her? To see her with her mouth smeared with blood? "I'll go... I'll go!" She stammers, like she's bargaining; Gwen's eyes are wide and her arms are dead at her sides for a moment as fear roots her but then she starts to backpeddle back out towards the street.
ofvalor asked: “Do you want me to slow down for you?” - kara danvers to cassie lang
Cassie's sweating through her goddamn tee by the time she catches up to Kara, and its all the more frustrating that as winded as she is, Kara looks like she just stepped out for the day. In between huffing, puffing breaths, and buckled over on her knees, she dismisses the thought. "No. No, I'm so good right now? Never... never ever been better than I am right now. Feel like I could do this all day." Internally, her brains screaming almost as loud as her muscles. How the hell is she supposed to compete here...
=== @ofvalor
silencedrage asked: ❛ do you have another clever idea to get us killed? ❜ - colleen/jen
Taking an unplanned express trip from the top of a building to the bottom of a building is no time to be testing the limits of newfound power, but whatever these baddies were carrying, it was capable of bruising a Hulk, so Jen had to make an quick decision when she'd dragged Colleen off with her. Lucilly, there'd been about six floors of another building to break her fall, and, bonus of bonuses, Colleen'd gotten a super-safe Hulk hug out of the job. Jen, who was much shorter and much slighter just a few moments prior, looks up at the chaos going on overhead back up through the hole the two of them have punched down into the heart of an office building. It is absolutely not the day for jokes, maybe, but it's frankly just in her nature, and as she unfurls Colleen from her protective grasp and sets her on the uneven, broken asphalt that acted as their landing zone, she nods. "I actually do, but you're gonna like that one even less." They had to get back up there, and Jen's rolling her arm in her socket as she stands up on the creaking office floor, shaking drywall and insulation out of the curls of her hair. === @silencedrage
silencedrage asked: "I'll always have your back." - cindy/cassie
Cassie's hand claps into Cindy's and they cinch fingers with a resolute shake as Cassie pulls herself back to her feet. That'd been a near miss - almost curtains on ol' Cassie Lang. She'd thought she was alone too, and had resigned herself to being outnumbered, which isn't as big a deal when you can do what she does. But an extra set of eyes is always invaluable, and she's glad Cindy's showed up, because that special sense of hers is like, at least ten more sets of eyes on top of it all. Stinger's helmet slaps down over her face as she goes back to back with Silk and the minions of whatever the hell is turning this hotel into a death-trap descend upon them. === @silencedrage
[ BANDAGE ] + Reverse: Kate sits down across from Gwen and begins to bandage their wounds (no Venom)
This time when she asks for help, it's not nearly as dire as a stab wound in her thigh. It's a bullet wound on her side, practically a graze - but that would be a lie. It's deeper than she had expected when she was finally able to stop running and fighting and moving, and there's a lot of blood from other various scrapes and cuts - she's not in danger of bleeding out, but she really ought to be more careful.
Gwen's touch is delicate, but it hurts - she still hisses and jerks away without meaning to. "Ah! I would fuckin' kill someone for some anesthesia right now."
She hates that she's gotten so good at this, and even as she's peeling Kate's shirt up her side to look at it, she's feeling her eyebrow creep up her forehead - for Kate, it's minor - its probably the spots around the thing that hurt the most rather than the graze itself. She cocks a grin - something else that strikes her as a level of comfort she never really expected to have at this. "Hold still, you baby." It's tough talk, especially from Gwen 'Girl in the Chair' Stacy. She feels bad about it, so she adds. "You've caught way worse from way better." Hot water first mixed with some peroxide, and she feels Kate clutch the table when the rag catches some scuffed skin. Then it's onto some salve that's equal parts painkiller and antiseptic. "This'll numb it a bit in the meantime - barely even broke the skin."
It takes them a bit to find the rhythm that feels the best, and even the awkward moving and shifting feels good to her - but it's the biting kiss against her neck that makes her loud. There are no words in her encouraging, but soft whines and gasping moans. Her eyes screw closed and she tightens her grip around Gwen, holding on like she might fall off of a cliff's edge - her fingernails dig into her back, and she can feel the marks she makes.
They heal too fast to leave a lasting mark, but she tries all the same.
When Gwen shifts and finally finds it, Kate gasps once more and lets out a string of words that don't form a full sentence. Lots of 'yes' and 'god' and 'fuck' woven together with hitches of breath and short inhales and exhaling sighs of pleasure. All the while her stomach tightens, and her thighs start to tremble with the effort of moving against her and not coming apart so quickly.
She doesn't last much longer before she finally cries out, burying her own face into whatever skin of Gwen's she can reach - her own kisses turning into bites as well, unable to express her pleasure and affection while she flutters around Gwen.
And like a fawn that suddenly finds its legs, she finds the rhythm and the beat, something synched in the pulsing that's coming from her core and running through her blood and it seems to synch up with the rhythm of Kate, too. And suddenly, just like that, they're fucking. It's a bit transcendental for Gwen, who'd so fully abandoned boyhood and found so often little more than shame when confronted in the mirror with the last lingering vestiges of an old self she never really could bring herself to call home, but in the moment, she's reclaiming it for herself, turning it into something for her rather than against her, and Kate certainly isn't complaining. At all. They're making music together for a moment, sing-songing ecstatic moans and groans as they hit a straightaway and engage in jolly coital co-operation. The sting of Kate's fingers in her back followed by the static itch of her skin mending itself almost instantly. And inside Gwen, Venom is feeling something as well, a creature that feeds off of empathic hormones has never felt such a rush of sustenance. Gwen's eyes are closed as her face is buried in Kate's shoulders, nipping at her collarbone and the crook of her neck, and it's just as well, her eyes under those lids blacked over and given into something feral and hungry. Maybe she bites a little too deeply, too greedily. There's a sudden recoil as she realizes she thinks tastes more than Kate's soft skin on the tip of her tongue and Gwen pulls back, breathless, looking at the print of her teeth.
❛ your fascination with me will be your death. ❜ - Gwen/Kate
Her answer probably shouldn't be a defiant 'so be it', but she can tell something is different - off - about Gwen. There's an air about her that seems dangerous, but Kate doesn't really care about danger most times anyways. Instead she moves forward, finger tips grazing along Gwen's forearm in an attempt to close the distance between them. "I can't tell if you're trying to scare me away or warn me - but Gwen, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I want to be right here, no matter what happens."
"You say that, but you don't even know what it means."
The expression that the words pull from her face is doubtful, incredulous, and almost borders on contempt, as if she's heard it before.
It's because she has.
"I'm not just damaged goods, I'm-..." Gwen's voice goes quiet and her spine ices up in the moment. What appelation should be applied there? A monster? Murderer? Both are appropriate and true. Toxic is the most apt thing her mind settles in. "I'm not worth the risk, Kate. I'm not meant for..." She motions between them searching for the resolution to spit out the painful truth. "This... whatver this is? That's happening between us? It's gonna end badly - it always does."
“ i’m not strong. or brave. i survive ‘cause there’s not really any other choice. ” Clint to Kate
It would be so damn easy to argue with him. She'd watched him run into places no normal person could survive. She'd watched him jump off of buildings with only a bow and a prayer. She been rescued by him more times than she could count. What is that but not strength? Bravery? She'd always wanted to be just like him, reckless and without fear.
But she gets it, too. There is no other choice. They could let all this shit happen and be done with it, hang up the bow and walk away, but it's not in their blood. They keep going forward because the world demands it of them. She straightens her shoulders, and presses the rag to his forehead, wiping away some of the soot but being careful not to rub against the wounds he'd acquired. "Yeah, well. I'd argue that is bravery, asshole." She murmurs it, and goes to get the rest of the first aid kit that's just across the table.
"Besides, not many people can take out a whole buncha mob guys and live to talk about it. Broken bones or not."
Clint twists in the chair so the back of it is up against his chest, and he takes a big swill of whatever cheap vodka is on the counter because for all the times he's had somebody have to stitch him up, it never really doesn't hurt, and an ounce of liquid courage goes a long way - Clint doesn't drink, but he does see the value in a bit of medication. And then she goes in with the praise; Kate reminds him a lot of Nat, and that's kind of the problem sometimes - a perfect blend of deprecation and gassing him up. He doesn't protest immediately, because he knows she'll just push back anyways.
"You weren't a slouch either; how's that cut on your head?"
The truth? He hesitates because the truth is so much deeper than what @versezlesangre suspects. The two of them are no strangers to the way the world treats people like them, and Gwen is one of the only people who understands how grating that life can be. But this is something entirely different, and he doesn't know how to explain that the bruises and cuts are from robbers and thugs and masked villains trying to tip the scales in their favor. He's been privy to more than one dinner table rant by Captain Stacy, talking about the vigilantes that have risen to protect the streets of New York where the police could not, and he refuses to be the wedge between Gwen and her father.
But something has to give, because she is looking at him with those enormous blue eyes, a quiet desperation locked inside them because she thinks that someone is hurting him. He doesn't deserve someone like Gwen Stacy in his life, and her knowing that he is Spider-Man would only ruin the bright future she has ahead of her. At least, that's what he tries to tell himself while he stands silently in her bedroom, fresh blood from his latest squabble still slowly making its way down from the cut on his forehead. "I'm-"
The moment is here but his tongue is dry, and his fingers fidget with the string on his hoodie. Weirdly, he never manages to shut up but right now, there are no words to help him. Instead, he looks behind him to make sure that the curtains to the window are closed before jumping up to cling to the ceiling of Gwen's bedroom. The fingertips of one hand stick impossibly to the plaster, and he just dangles eight feet off the ground as he waits for her response. He hates that it also puts him slightly more out of her reach... just in case.
"I'm uh... you know, Spider-Man?"
What she'd thought she'd hear, what she expected to hear, isn't at all what she gets, and when Peter Parker, this shy, quiet dork she met at science camp is upside down on her ceiling, she isn't quite sure how she's supposed to react, much less how she's going to. She's standing, craning her neck, and she sort of just falls back to sit on her bed.
"Wow." is about all she can muster a for a moment - it's a tiny, breathy word that is overly concerned with whether it should be whispered or shouted. She's suddenly overly concerned with if her dad can hear them - wait, is her dad home? What were they just doing.
Maybe this is a panic attack. Is this what a panic attack feels like? "Peter..." She says. "You're him?" She's suddenly incredibly embarassed as her mind reminds her of every time she's gushed about how cool and how important and how meaningful this boy is to his own face. Her face is a shocked smile but her eyes are slowly losing it as she remembers the impetus of this conversation - all the cuts and scrapes and bruises have new gravity about them.
She falters a little when @versezlesangre moves way, towards the janitor cart stacked with cleaning supplies, and then to the stall where the corpse is still dripping blood onto the linoleum. The acrid smell of bleach makes her nose wrinkle a little but Susie immediately catches on to her plan. When Julie takes her hand again, she follows her best friend to the door of the stall, where the homecoming queen's makeup seems to be melting off her face from the impromptu bath of antiseptics that Julie had given her.
Neither of them speak for a moment, and the only sound is the match striking against the sandpaper, before the stall goes up in an inferno. Susie stumbles back a little in surprise, but her eyes are round and fixated on the way the flames lick up the sides of the stall, devouring everything in its path. She knows they should run, they should put as much distance between them and this shitty backwater town as they can, but she's pinned to the ground, unable to tear her eyes away from the masterpiece they've created.
Soon however, she hears the sounds of the fire alarm going off, and she tugs on Julie's hand. "C'mon, we should go," she urges, trying to pull her away, even as her gaze keeps flickering back to where the flames are dancing. She pulls on Julie's hand once more, a little more urgently this time. Susie doesn't care about what will happen to her if they get caught. Her parents have enough money to make even the worst problems go away, but it's not the same for Julie. This is what she can do to protect her.
There's something ritualistic in standing around a fire. It's rendered even moreso considering the fuel. Julie's head tilts in quiet consideration, her half green-brown eyes connecting the dots between a dozen red cuts in her evening gown.
Julie's never seen a dead body - and she's surely never seen what fire does to one. There's an academic tilt in her brow as she studies something that, by rights, should make her want to throw up. Do you think she's pretty? Julie almost asks before Susie squeezes her hand and brings her out of the twisted reverie before she can do so. "Yea -" She agrees By the time they're out in the parking lot, you can see smoke coming out of the windows on the other side of the school. Julie scoffs in a bit of quiet private laughter as she finds a car and does this trick her dad taught her to get the door open, letting Susie in the other side and getting about a hot-wire. It's not easy with her hands this shakey. "What about Frank?" She asks as the car jumps to life. "What about Joey?"
