#no you're death ain't good enough

[no-entry-access]

absolutely hilarious to me that in both camps and brooklyn house you have to somehow make your way there, whether with the help of a satyr or wolves or following the instructions on a record tape or whatever.... and then you have Valhalla. where you die. and the a bunch of dudes named erik judge your death. while everyone else listens.

#it's been a while since i read magnus chase but i think if your death is unworthy you go to normal death? #idk i don't remember #it's just really funny to me #you die #and then erik goes: #no you're death ain't good enough #you're being evicted #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #the kane chronicles #magnus chase and the gods of asgard

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

#yandere fic #smut fic #ateez fic #yandere ateez #park seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #ateez matz #kim hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #ateez smut #ateez x reader #matz x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yandere ateez x reader #yandere x reader #yandere werewolf

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.7k / 21 / soap soulmate au, part 2

...

Unfortunately, Ghost finds you before Soap does.

Ghost yanks you by the elbow, cuffs around your wrists, dragging you to an unmarked military vehicle, pistol in hand.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask him.

He shoves you into the back seat and slams the door, gets in on the other side and starts the car up. You right yourself, having been shoved hard enough for your ribs to bounce off the leather seats.

He answers without looking at you. "The base." Curt, cold, and pissed. He drops the gun barrel-down into the cup holder.

"We just left the base."

"Huh. So we did." He keeps his eyes on the road. "Ain't that funny."

There’s a chance he’s not 141. As if there’s some other brick shithouse of a man who wears a skull balaclava around.

You shift in your seat. "What do you want from me?"

“Nothin' that'll feel good, I can tell ya that." He rests his elbow on the center console. “We’re gonna have a long talk."

"And then what?"

“Dunno. Maybe a bullet. Depends on how much you piss me off. Got a lot of questions to ask you first.”

Great.

You look around. This isn’t a police vehicle. Barely a military vehicle. There’s no barrier between you and that gun in the front seat cupholder. But you’re not an idiot. He knows you won't go for it, too, but he wants you to try.

You lean back, looking out the window at your side. "You can still turn yourself in. You don’t need to resort to hostages.”

“I made my choice. Not a difficult choice, considering how corrupt Shadow Company is."

“Orders are orders.”

“You always follow orders to arrest your friends, no questions asked?”

“When there’s good reason to.”

"Good reason, my ass. You're just a mindless dog, doing whatever Graves says. You think he'll protect you from the consequences of his actions? He'll toss you to the wolves in a heartbeat if it means saving his own sorry ass."

"That's not true."

"It's the mercenary way, innit. Sell yourself to the highest bidder and tell yourself orders are orders."

You brace one boot on the other, slowly working one foot free from inside. "Military’s the same. Only difference between us is you're salaried."

“I fight for a cause. Can’t say the same for your line of work. All you know how to do is gun targets down for cash and a little approval from your boss. Pathetic.”

Your heel slides loose. “No cause is clean. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen corruption in your line of work. Or a bad call. Or an unnecessary death.”

He grips the wheel, glaring at you in the mirror. “Doesn’t make it right. Sure as hell doesn’t mean you turn a blind eye to goddamn betrayal in your own ranks.”

“Some bureaucrat in a suit fumbling the bag and trying to right wrongs doesn’t make us corrupt. Graves knows what he’s doing—"

"So you knew."

Your jaw snaps closed mid-sentence. Shit.

He's staring right at you in the rearview mirror, eyes so cold they could freeze the breath in your lungs. "You knew about Shepherd. Didn't you?"

You swallow, looking away from the mirror and out the window. Your left foot finally comes free, and you shift subtly to brace your heel on your right boot, beginning to work your right foot loose next. "Doesn't matter."

“You followed orders to turn on your own allies, knowing they came from Shepherd. Knowing all he cares about is covering his own mistakes." He grips and re-grips the wheel slowly, as if he's thinking hard about picking up that handgun and ending your life in a ditch somewhere. "Welcomed us into a slaughterhouse for a fistful of cash. Bet you sleep real easy at night."

You trust Graves. He’s never steered you wrong. You were doing the right thing by following orders. That mantra is stuck in your throat. You want it to be true, but then there’s Johnny.

Ghost hasn't mentioned him by name. The Shadows never found him—he got away—but you don't dare let yourself think about the implications of him being alive and knowing about you. You put it out of your mind as soon as the thought surfaces, even. You made a deal with yourself that you'd never dwell on it again. Much less ask his very hostile squadmate about it. You’re not about to offer your arteries up to a butcher.

"Shepherd is in your chain of command, too."

"Not anymore. You and yours made sure of that."

"You didn't have to defect. Commander Graves asked you to come quietly. You would've been fine. You didn't do anything wrong, right?” You hear an edge in your tone and blunt it back down. "You didn't have anything to hide. But you turned it into a firefight."

"You realize you’re defending the bastard that sold out me and my team. You think I'd lay down, let him put us in some jail cell to rot for the rest of our days? I've seen too many people follow orders, trusting that everyone above them has their best interests at heart. Seen more than a few of them get punished at the hands of men like Shepherd. I'm not giving him another chance to betray me.” You still feel his eyes on you in the mirror, but you don't look. "You never once stopped and questioned what you were told to do? Or did it not matter because your loyalty was to your company, not the right thing?" His voice is flat. "That's the difference between me and you. I don't look for excuses to feel better about my actions. And I damn sure don't turn my gun on my allies.”

Your stomach curls with discomfort. "You had a choice. You knew how this would end for you."

"Rather be a wanted criminal for the right reasons than a gun being pointed at whoever Shepherd wants dead. And wouldn't you know it--I'm in damn good company, too. Turns out sticking to a moral code earns you a little more loyalty than payin’ cash. But you want to know what the best part of being a criminal is?" He taps out an odd little tune on the wheel, but there’s nothing warm or cute about it. The loaded gun would be friendlier to contend with. “I don’t have to follow Shepherd’s orders. I’m free to deal with this little problem as I see fit, and no one can tell me I’m wrong. If I kill some mercenaries who would arrest me on sight, that's just the unfortunate collateral damage that comes with my newfound freedom and your buddies following orders."

You consider that for a long moment. “So when do you plan to kill me?”

"Depends on whether or not I like what I hear in the next couple of hours. Might change my mind in that time. Might not." He takes his hand off the steering wheel to lean back a little. The road is empty, stretching long into the horizon. "The more I hear you talk, the more I feel like shooting you just for the sake of it. But I've got too many questions for that, so..." He lets the implied you live for now hang in the air, then taps the wheel again. "We'll see how the rest of this convo goes."

You manage to slide your right heel free. You glance up to see him looking at you in the mirror again. Your heart skips. You think he's caught you. But he doesn't say anything, and you realize he's just examining you, mulling something over.

“I don’t know what you think I can tell you, but I don’t know anything,” you say.

“Why don’t you just stay quiet and think about all that stuff you don’t know. Maybe we’ll starve you until you talk; maybe we’ll grease your palms. That’s how you operate, hm?”

He’s trying to make you angry, make you take the bait, but you don’t. You know what you are.

You keep both feet carefully lowered into your boots so as not to rouse suspicion. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you and your buddy got hurt.”

That seems to catch him off guard. He frowns. A beat passes where he doesn't say anything, just watches you. Not angry or suspicious, just... calculating. "Not worth much. And his name is Johnny. But you knew that, didn't you?"

You look away. Ghost's cell phone rings.

The sound pulls his attention away from you. He glances down at the display with a frown.

"On with Ghost." A short reply. "Yeah, I got her. About three hours out." He glances at you once as the person on the other line says something else, but after a few more seconds, you can tell he's more concerned with what they're saying than with you.

This is your chance.

With his eyes fixed on the road, you silently pull your cuffed arms under you, lifting your feet deftly through the loop of your arms.

You glance down at the gun one more time. He’s holding the phone with his left hand; driving with his right. Still, even with your hands in front of you, you’re cuffed. You won’t have a chance if you go for that gun and he gets it away from you. It won’t end well.

Plan B, then.

You push your feet back into your boots and slide yourself behind his seat.

"Hey!"

Drill Sergent voice. Busted.

He hits the brakes, drops his phone, and reaches for the pistol.

You slam your feet into the back of his seat, sending him crashing forward and trapping him between the seat and the wheel. The horn blares. The car jerks and runs off the road.

Cuffed hands in front of you, you throw your weight against the driver's side door and grab the handle. He reacts, but not quick enough, his gloved hand snatching at the space where yours were a second after you get the door open.

You dive outside, crash to the ground, roll ungracefully away from the back wheels as they roar past, and use the momentum to get back to your feet. The car keeps rolling, driver's side door still open. It's still moving fast, and you landed hard. That's going to hurt in a minute. Not yet, though.

You run.

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Soap / masterlist tag

#soulmate soap #mine #story #soulmate au #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[ooffmlsorry]

Dancing with One Piece Men

ACE

The only one on this list that can actually dance or at least has a real sense of rhythm I'm so sorry

He's not shy about dancing either

Is shy about slow dancing with you in front of people, that's just for yall

Loves dancing with you during celebrations on the ship!!! HE WILL LITERALLY GRAB YOU FROM YOUR SEAT AND SWING YOU AROUND

His joy is your joy and vice versa and will keep you laughing the whole time

Gets really close to you, especially when he's drunk, like noses almost touching

Did I mention spinning?? He'll spin you around and around until you're both dizzy, flushed and sweating and then wobble over to a seat with you to recover and laugh with everyone

LUFFY

Have you ever seen the OG Disney Jungle Book movie? Remember the orangutan? Yeah? That's how Luffy dances. Lots of arm swinging and shimmying

Doesn't mind dancing but like...food first

Man, all that dancing worked up an appetite! Time for more food!

You might have to see Chopper the next morning because of how much he pulls your arms while dancing your poor shoulder joints lol

So unserious about it so there's no reason to be self concious because Luffy's already acting a fool enough for both of you

You both end up falling asleep wherever you are, completely tuckered out. Zoro will inevitably have to carry you both to bed except Luffy's hand is still holding yours so you're definitely sharing a bed

SANJI

Okay, but the hilarity of trying to grind up on this man? He'd die. Cause of death: blood loss lol. It's okay, he's had a good run

He's such a romantic, I think he'd actually prefer to slow dance with you and is kind of bummed it's a party

Would definitely inspire him to slow dance with you more

Holds you really close

Hands on your waist or lower absolutely lower

Can't actually dance though and looks incredibly goofy, as long as no one says anything zoro it'll be fine

Can dip you though and it's really hot

You probably don't dance for very long because he's a horny gremlin but you love it

ZORO

"Pleeeeaaaassssseeee"

"Over my dead body, y/n"

There ain't no way you're getting this man to dance

Pulling him off the wall or out of his chair is like trying to pull a mountain from it's spot

Will tap his foot though

Really likes watching you because it's hot and because you're happy and let's be honest Zoro wants to see you happy

You're the best view there besides the sake

Make him jealous and dance with another guy? Well, y'all won't be at the party much longer because you're fucking in the bathroom

If hell froze over and you did get him to dance it's so stiff and terrible you burst out laughing immediately

LAW

It's only because he loves you that he shows up at all, dancing is pushing it

Dance on him and he will switch himself with a chair at least he won't let you fall on your ass

You can try pulling him up but you won't get very far either. He might swing his arms with yours lamely but that's it

He will slow dance with you alone in his room or the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning and actually really likes holding you close

Dancing is so foreign to him and it shows lol, you got him to dance once in private because you were insanely curious and Law genuinely has no memories of ever dancing in his 26 years of life and uh...he kind of dances like Wednesday Addams but it's cute to you

He'll dance with you in private now but it has to be a very very special circumstance

#zoro x reader #luffy x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #one piece x reader #one piece

[shomixremix]

HERDING THE CATTLE ♥︎

i saw something about this prompt on here like two years ago and it's been stuck in my head ever since ♡︎

tags: Arataki Itto, afab! reader, cow hybrid! reader, smut, fluff, marking, mating, rough sex, petnames, cowgirl, breeding, creampie

-> you are a small cow hybrid auctioned off to a slaughterhouse since you couldn't produce enough milk and were never calm. the arataki gang saved you, and your new master - the one and oni Arataki Itto - knows just how to keep you in check.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

"Ahh!! Itto! Itto-ooh! Mh! I-Itto!"

You whined as the Oni bounced you on his cock like you were weightless, watching in amusement as you cried in overstimulation. What was this, your ninth, tenth time cumming? You lost count. Itto never let you rest, not even for a second, bouncing you on his lap through every orgasm.

"Aww, you'r' so cute, love bug... Such a cute little cow, ain't ya'? Don't cry now, sweets, this is what ya' wanted, yeah? Only way I can tire you out, baby~"

Your master cooed, teasing you about being so restless. Oh, how you wished you could take everything back! No, you weren't bursting with energy like you said earlier, no, you couldn't go on forever - your legs were practically jelly at this point, your limp body completely at mercy to Itto.

He used you like a cocksleeve, dragged on his dick whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted - and you loved it. Life was good in the Arataki gang: you always had food, a place to sleep and protection provided to you, at all times. You also had a very tall, very strong and very handsome demon filling you up and breeding you almost daily, making sure your cushy womb was never empty.

The space where you connected was a mess. A glorious mess of both your and his juices seeping out of your hole, being fucked back in each time Itto would trust back. Just as every other day, your gummy walls pulsed around his length, making him shoot yet another load inside you.

"Fuck, baby... Makin' me lose my mind and shit..... So good.... Give me a little taste of that milk, will ya'?"

His large palms left your hips, greedily grabbing at the fat flesh of your boobs. As soon as he squeezed down just a tiny bit, a small stream of milk burst out, hitting Itto in the face. You were instantly mortified. Itto was your master, he saved you from certain death, and now you embarass him like this-

"I'm s-sorry Itto-! So sorry! Didn't mean to, I r-really didn't mean to!"

Instead of scolding you like you were sure any other owner would, the Oni burst out laughing. His laugh was like a roar, shaking his entire body - and with him, you as well.

"Hah, those jerks at the farm jus' didn't know how to milk ya', sweets, 'cause you look full of milk to me!"

It was true - even though you were sold to a slaughterhouse for failing to produce milk, you started leaking like crazy the moment Itto took you as his. That vet back at the farm you grow up on always said that you'd start producing milk if they paired you with a bull, and what better bull than a large, demon one?

Their loss, anyway. Now, all your milk belonged to Itto and his warm mouth, and not to some sketchy farmers who were only interested in selling it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his sharp fangs on your nips, greedily sucking at the flesh and gulping down the sweet drink. His dick twitched inside you as he continued feasting, your own arms tightening around his head to pull him closer.

The second he detached himself from your chest he thrust out harshly, in the process accidentally completely pushing you from his lap. Even though Itto was mighty and strong, he wasn't exactly the sharpest. There was a slight possibility that he was so occupied with whatever he was doing that he forgot you were on him.

You watched as he stood up, leaving you sitting on your knees on the ground. The Oni spit a bit of your milk on his palm, then using that same hand to roughly jerk his cock. It was more than obvious that milk was one of his kinks.

Oh, but why would he jerk off with milk as lube when you were right there...? On your knees, right next to him, ready and waiting and... Oh, Archons, were you not enough for him anymore..?

When Itto first saved you, the deal was that you'd stay in the Arataki gang until they found you a new home. However, Itto insisted they keep you, even proclaimed you as his own "pretty girl that no one can touch!" He kept you all to himself, fell asleep with you in his arms at night, brought you any awesome flowers he found, even took you on good, honest dates when he'd get a little Mora! He even acted on his demon urges and sunk his fangs into your neck, mating you!

But what if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a little, useless cow? What if that wasn't even enough for his sexual urges any more..?

"I-Itto..." You cry, big tears pooling up in the corners of even bigger eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

At the mention of his name the Oni turns to you, shocked to see you crying.

"Hey, hey, hey! Baby, what's wrong?!"

"Need you.... P-please..."

Not another word needed to be said. Itto immediately reacted, grabbing your soft, much smaller body and seating it once again on his lap, entering you in one swift trust until his tip was snuggly kissing your cervix.

"Shhh, sweets... Let your Oni take care of ya', hm? No need to cry! I thought you couldn't go on, love bug, that's why I stopped! But you really are a restless one, huh, calfie?"

You smiled warmely at the nickname as your head went fuzzy. You laid your pretty head on Arataki's chest - like always - and let him have complete control of how he fucks you.

Each one of his thrust was faster and more brutal than the last. Your pussy was already crying out, threatening to cum just from the first few thrusts. Itto noticed, pinching your puffy clit between his claws and rolling it around.

"OH, ITTO!" You scream in ecstasy, riding your high.

Your master wasn't going to be able to last much longer. With you bouncing on his cock the way you were and how your sweet little cunt was so tight that it was milking him dry, Itto lasted only a couple more thrusts.

"Hah... Haaah... Fuck, love bug... Really wanna milk me too, don't ya'? Ahh... Mmm.. Gonna breed you.. Hah... Gonna breed ya' so good, sweets.. You'll be all nice and full, and you'll get pregnant with my calfs, yeah? Put all that milk to good use, hm? Yeah, yeah!"

He started cumming as well, shooting rope after rope after rope of his sweet release inside you. You were filled to the rim, juices leaking out of your satisfied hole. Arataki didn't let any of it go to waste, his fingertips catching whatever's left and pushing it in.

As soon as you were filled, your hands reached for him, seeking comfort in his warm arms. Itto obliged instantly, carrying you like you were weightless, to the nearby camp they set up. Your master entered his tent, the biggest of the bunch, wrapping your body in a soft blanket and once again settling you in his arms.

"There ya' go, love bug. Comfy?" You nodded, which made Itto break out in a toothy grin. "Well, of course it is! The great numero uno Itto is at your service, baby, of course everything is awesome!"

You chuckled at the way he tooted his own horn, kissing his cheek and hiding your face in his large neck and shoulder.

"G'night, Itto.. Thank you..."

The Oni found your actions adorable, cooing at you: "Awww, sweets, no need to thank me! You know I always gocha. Thank you for being so good f' me, yeah? You're such a good, pretty little cow... I don't know how I got so lucky!"

He pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, caressing your legs with his large palm.

"G'night, baby.."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin itto #arataki itto #genshin arataki #itto smut #itto x reader #arataki itto smut #arataki itto fluff #itto fluff #smut #fluff #hybrid #hybrid reader

[harunayuuka2060]

༘⋆-ˋˏLyric Prank ༘⋆-ˋˏ

*In NRC's Groupchat*

Leona: @MC Brown guilty eyes and little white lies, yeah

MC: ...

Ace: 🍵

Deuce: ^

Ruggie: Prefect, what did you do?

MC: Nothing?

Leona: Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

MC: Huh?

Leona: That you'd talk to him, maybe did even worse

Leona: I kept quiet so I could keep you

MC: ...

MC: Nah, guys. This isn't Leona. He wouldn't say shit like this.

Ruggie: ROFL 🤣

Leona: And ain't it funny

Leona: How you ran to him

Leona: The second that we called it quits?

Ace: YOU TWO BROKE UP?!!

Deuce: 😲

MC: ...

MC: We're not even in a relationship.

MC: Right?

Ruggie: Shishishi why are you asking us?

Leona: And ain't it funny

Leona: How you said you were friends?

Leona: Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Ace: Yeah. Like I don't believe MC either whenever they said they're only friends with Malleus. 🙄

MC: Wha—

Malleus: Why are you bullying the child of man?

Ace: Here comes the savior.

Malleus: ???

Leona: You betrayed me

Leona: And I know that you'll never feel sorry

Leona: For the way I hurt, yeah

Leona: You'd talk to him

Leona: When we were together

Leona: Loved you at your worst

Leona: But that didn't matter

MC: I'm

MC: In

MC: Confusion 😵‍💫

Ace: 🤥

Malleus: I should be the one feeling that way, Kingscholar.

MC: 😭 What?

Ace: Yeah! You're a manizer!

MC: 🧍

Ruggie: 🤣🤣🤣

Deuce: 😂😂😂

Leona: It took you two weeks

Leona: To go off and date him

Leona: Guess you didn't cheat

Leona: But you're still a traitor

Ace: See? SEE?!!

Ace: THIS IS WHAT I'M TELLING YOU!

Ace: SETTLE

Ace: WITH

Ace: ONE!

MC: You never tell me anything the fuck?

Malleus: It seems like a good advice, child of man.

MC: 😞

Leona: Now you bring him around

Leona: Just to shut me down

Leona: Show him off like he's a new trophy

Ace: @Vil

Vil: Why did you @ me, potato 1?

Malleus: Hello, Schoenheit. Is the child of man showing you off to everyone?

Vil: Hm?

Vil: ...

Vil: They didn't need to.

Vil: I'm the fairest of all.

MC: 👑

Vil: Anyway, what is this drama, Leona?

Leona: And I know if you were true

Leona: There's no damn way that you

Leona: Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

Ace: 🧢

Deuce: 🧢

Ruggie: 🧢

Epel: 🧢

MC: You guys—

Epel: You're playing Mystic Messenger.

Epel: That's enough proof.

Idia: ROFL YOU PLAYING THAT?

MC: ...

Malleus: What does 🧢 mean?

Ace: Lies.

Malleus: Oh. Then. This is for you, child of man.

Malleus: 🧢

MC: ...

MC: 😠

Leona: Ain't it funny

Leona: All the twisted games

Leona: All the questions you used to avoid?

Leona: Ain't it funny?

Leona: Remember I brought him up

Leona: And you told me I was paranoid

Ruggie: @MC you had a death wish?

MC: 🧍

MC: No?

Vil: Potato? You said that to him?

MC: No!

Leona: You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to him

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date him

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

MC: ...

MC: Leona, seriously, what did I do? 🥹

Leona: God, I wish that you had thought this through

Leona: Before I went and fell in love with you

MC: ...

Rook: Le gasp!

Vil: Rook?

Rook: Roi du Leon! What a way to confess your feelings!

Leona: Tch.

Ace: That's a confession?

Deuce: But you're acting like MC already cheated on you

Leona: Don't they?

Leona: They like many guys

MC: I'm in a school full of handsome and precious men

MC: What do you want me to do? 😭

Vil: And there's nothing wrong with that, potato, as long as you're not seducing them

Ruggie: But Leona wants to be seduced

MC: 🧍

MC: ...

MC: You could've said so?

Ace: Yo! Manizer!

Vil: What?

Malleus: ^

Leona: I'm done here.

*Leona went offline.*

MC: I swear @Ace, if someone calls me "manizer", say 👋 to your freedom

Idia: Lololololol

Idia: Manizer.

MC: ...

MC: ACE.

Ace: It's not my fault!

Deuce: 🤣🤣🤣

Ruggie: 🤣🤣🤣

Epel: 🤣🤣🤣

Vil: 😮‍💨

Rook: ☺️

Malleus: Kingscholar should know how to confess properly.

Idia: Breakup thoughts >

MC: 💀

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst ruggie #twst malleus #twst vil #twst rook #twst idia

[astrologydayz]

PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS//ASPECTS - SYNASTRY♤

SUN CONJUNCT/TRINE MOON = Sun being Moon's gatekeeper🗡🦁. Moon feels safe&secure with Sun, because Sun can take one look at Moon persons face &know exactly what they feel at any given moment. Like embarrassment, anger, sadness, happiness etc. People could also question why they don't date - if they're into whatever gender the other one is, ofc. And if you're not family ofc. This is a soulmate aspect!! So they can definitely see each other as platonic soulmates. &they're usually also best friends/or VERY close at least. People they date, can get VERY jealous of their relationship, &VERY insecure about the closeness they share, without it even being anything romantic!! Moon always feels like they can share ANYTHING they want2 with Sun!! They won't "hide" from Sun, ever. They’ll go through fire 4Sun🥺. Sun will guide Moon! & Sun will ALWAYS lead here, not saying they won't let Moon decide anything, But Sun will always be the one 2 take the "final decision". &Moon doesn't have a problem with that - at least not the trine. The conjunction can sometimes go both ways😘. Look at sign/s/house/s 2 c how & where Sun guides Moon🌙/where - how Moon always shows up 4 Sun☀️.

SUN SQUARE/QUINCUNX MOON = Moon doesn't always feel comfortable sharing what they feel, cuz if they do, Sun can react in a way they don't like, so they would rather keep it in at times. Sun can be too dominating, too decided on "leading"/deciding things. Moon will end up with all these feelings of frustrations, bc they keep it in. So at some point = they'll end up starting fights, getting so frustrated that they just CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANYMORE. Sun can be too focused on their own needs/wants, that they can tend 2 not take Moon's feelings into consideration. Sun can think of Moon as 2 emotional, 2 sensitive, that they should grow up. Sun can also be "2much in Moons business", 2probing. They can still be close tho, but there will always be some of the issues, I mentioned above. I call friendships with this aspect FRENEMIES!! Moon can't be 100% open emotionally, & Sun can't be 100% who their ego wants them 2 be. Look at signs/houses 2 c where Sun can get ego trips & why/where Moon feels unheard/misunderstood.

MERCURY CONJUNCT/TRINE NEPTUNE = this aspect can show a telepathic connection between 2 people/"where u meet each other on another plane"/or in dreams. U can listen 2 a lot of music together/make music together/watch a lot movies/be creative af/create art together! Mercury can inspire Neptune 2 go for their dreams, instead of just dreaming of them💫. Mercury is like Neptune's hype man! Neptune knows what the Mercury person thinks about, a lot of the time. They can have MANY conversations about things our mind ain't sure about. Like life after death/if there's a god/karma/aliens etc. Neptune will have the Mercury person thinking about why they're here, 4sure. Spirituality can also be a big thing! Look at house/s/signs 2 c how/why Mercury will inspire Neptune2create, & where/how Neptune will make Mercury rethink their life. The conjunction can go both ways💜.

MERCURY SQUARE/QUINCUNX NEPTUNE = IF u create art together, or something like that = 100% different visions about whatever u create/arguments about it. Mercury can lie 2 Neptune person a lot, even about dumb shit. Like about what they had for dinner😵‍💫 . Neptune can't really communicate with Mercury person about their dreams/hopes. Mercury can't understand/c Neptune's "vision". Mercury can criticize Neptune. Like Mercury telling Neptune person that their dreams are unrealistic/or Neptune ain't good enough 4 what they want 2 achieve. Mercury can feel small/ambitionless, bc Neptune dreams are so big/dreamlike. What Neptune wants2 achieve is something Mercury could feel jealous of. Neptune can have rose coloured glasses on a lot. Like a person with 100% full vision, walking with their own eyes closed. But they do know if Mercury is lying tho, or they just have a feeling about it. They just choose "2 skip it". Look at houses & signs 2c where/how Mercury is deceiving/tearing down Neptune, & how/where Neptune can make Mercury person feel anxious.

VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE SATURN = Venus can depend on Saturn person financially, or on Saturn creating stability for Venus! like Venus living at Saturns house/at Saturns property, or Saturn always being the one “who picks up” Venus/is the one who’s there 4 them etc. Venus always know that they can depend on Saturn. Venus can feel very loved, &cared for by Saturn. Saturn brings a "fatherly" kind of love. They can also be the one who picks Venus up after parties/when Venus goes out & needs 2be picked up. They can be in each others life for a very long time. Venus can feel like there's a lot 2 live up 2/Venus can be afraid of disappointing Saturn. Saturn just wants Venus 2 do the best they can! But the way they go about it can be a little hard sometimes🤔. Venus quickly sees that it'll end up helping them in the end tho! Saturn will always be there to 2 remind Venus that there's another day&another try, if they don't succeed the 1st time. Karma from a past life/or created in this one! Look at house/s & sign/s 2c where your karma is/where Saturn "saves" Venus & where Venus loves&support Saturn, always.

VENUS SQUARE/QUINCUNX SATURN = Venus can get treated like a little kid by the Saturn person. Saturn telling them what they should, or shouldn't do/what they should like, or shouldn't like. Saturn mocking/putting Venus down because of their own insecurities. Saturn can be jealous of Venus, &can try 2 one up them a lot. Saturn feels like Venus ain't dependable, so they're not either. Saturn here teaches Venus how to love themself, &find out what they need/don't need in friendships/family relationships, whatever platonic connection it is. Saturn can't be there 4 Venus, as Venus needs them2. Venus can have internal conflicts with themself about letting Saturn go/Cutting them off. Bad Karma between them from a past life, that they need 2 get done with in this life. Or bad karma being created in this one. One of them owes something to the other one/or will owe something 2 the other. look at houses&signs 2 c where/how karma is being created/where it's getting dealt, &done with. Where/how Saturn treats Venus person like an imbecile, &where/how Venus makes the Saturn person insecure.

MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE MOON = Mars can help Moon with standing up for themselves/teaching them how to fight back/or teaching them how to defend themselves. Mars can be hardcore protective sometimes, bc they feel a need 2 help Moon in any kind of "danger" situation. Moon can feel like Mars is a bit 2 much sometimes, but won't have a problem with it, cuz they're kinda used2 it, &can find it comforting. Moon can help calm Mars down, when mars need someone to vent 2. They can have fights sometimes, & not talk for a little while but they almost always come back together, and agrees to disagree. Mars can think Moon is 2 sweet for their own good, and think they're a little bit naive sometimes. Look at house/s & sign/s 2 c how & where Mars helps/protects Moon, & where&how Moon can guide Mars when it comes 2 their temper/aggressions. The conjunction can go both ways, so also read what I've written down under here.

MARS SQUARE/QUINCUNX MOON = Mars can gaslight Moon a whole fucking lot. Making moon feel cornered, unsure, & uncomfortable. Mars is too aggressive for Moon's liking. Moon can even be kind of scared, not ever knowing what Mars persons next actions will be. Mars can think that Moon needs too much attention/2demanding of Mars, or that they're way 2 emotional/sensitive - a crybaby in their eyes. Moon can become quiet a whole lot, when Mars starts2 become mean/aggressive. They want to yell, &scream but won't. Moon will hold all of it in for a long time. They'll start2 feel some kind of resentment towards Mars at some point, And when they're feeling enough resentment = they'll end up erupting on Mars, &even Mars will be surprised by this. Look at houses & signs 2 c where/how Mars gaslights/is 2 aggressive towards Moon, & how/where Moon is 2 emotional/2needy for Mars.

POF CONJUNCT/TRINE NORTH NODE = North Node person is the one receiving/benefitting from the POF person. Let it be material, or spiritual success/growth. Even higher knowledge. North Node person NEEDS this from POF person! They need it 2 grow and evolve in this life/them getting a step closer towards what they need 2 do here. And it's something that's constant with North Node, like North Node person will always be the one benefitting from POF person, unless they have a double whammy ofc.

BML conjunct DSC = can show that the Lilith person, will ruin house persons relationships with other people. Lilith can also decide, or at least try 2 decide who the DSC person is "supposed" 2 talk 2🐈🐈.

⚡️ Uranus conjunct DSC = causes the DSC person 2 find the Uranus person "unreliable", "not understanding of their needs", "Uranus being eccentric, and not always available 4 house person"❄️. Uranus could come & go a lot. U could like that energy, if u have Uranus aspecting your DSC in your natal chart.

REMEMBER 2 ALWAYS LOOK AT BOTH NATAL CHARTS2!!💋 REALLY EVERYTHING, SO YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW IT PLAYS OUT!! THANKS4READING!!!

I appreciate u❤️

#astro community #venus #synastry #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astrology notes #mars astrology #black moon lilith

[floralcrematorium]

2010s Nostalgia || Hetalia Edition

Hetalia Youtube Nostalgia Playlist | 117 songs | 7hr 5min

• Hey Na Na - Katie Herzig • Viva La Vida - Coldplay • Rasputin - Boney M. • Glad You Came - The Wanted • Hot Mess - Cobra Starship • Counting Stars - OneRepublic • Fireflies - Owl City • Bombshell Blonde - The Jagged Edges • Do Better - Say Anything • Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole • Dance With The Devil - Breaking Benjamin • Survive - Sick Puppies • Life is Beautiful - Sixx:A.M. • Fairytale - Alexander Rybak • Everybody Loves Me - One Republic • Don't Mess With Me - temposhark • Mimimi - SEREBRO • I Like It Loud - Cash Cash • I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction • I'm ALIVE! - Becca • Lovestruck - Breathe Electric • I Like To Dance - Hot Chelle Rae • Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench • Kiss Me Thru The Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie • Hard out Here - Lily Allen • Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars • I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy • Airplanes - B.o.B., Hayley Williams • Rock Star - Prima J • This Is War - Thirty Seconds To Mars • Hey Brother - Avicii • Cinderella - Tata Young • Centuries - Fall Out Boy • Déjà Vu - 3OH!3 • Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me - Lene Alexandra • Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco, LOLO • The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco • Europe's Skies - Alexander Rybak • Bad Apple!! - RichaadEB, Cristina Vee • Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! At The Disco • Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco • Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco • Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco • Never Close Our Eyes - Adam Lambert • Playing With Fire - Ovi, Paula Seling • Angel With A Shotgun - The Cab • Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco • Killer - The Ready Set • How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA • This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy • Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance • Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida • Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester • I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters • One Woman Army - Porcelain Black • How To Start A War - Simon Curtis • Maps - Maroon 5 • Do Better - Say Anything • STARSTRUKK - 3OH!3 • Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch • The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin • Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes • When You're Evil - Aurelio Voltaire • Canadian, Please - Julia Bentley, Gunnarolla • Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco • Take Me to Church - Hozier • Viking Death March - Billy Talent • Headstrong - Trapt • Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind • Don't Believe A Word - Third Eye Blind • Warriors - Imagine Dragons • iNSaNiTY - CircusP • Paralyzer - Finger Eleven • I'm Awesome - Spose • 24 - Jem • Clarity - Zedd, Foxes • Hall of Fame - The Script, will.i.am • The Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco • Immortals - Fall Out Boy • Rather Be - Clean Bandit, Jess Glynne • Wake Me Up - Avicii • a thousand years - Christina Perri • Just Like Fire - P!nk • Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars • Safe And Sound - Capital Cities • Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde • Demons - Imagine Dragons • DNA - Little Mix • Remember The Name - Fort Minor, Styles of Beyond • Victorious - Panic! At The Disco • 右肩の蝶 (Butterfly On Your Right Shoulder) - Kagamine Rin/Len • We Are One (Ole Ole) - Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, Claudia Leitte • Hero - Skillet • Maraca - Mohombi • The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy • DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3 • Teenage Dream - Katy Perry • SING - My Chemical Romance • Good Time - Owl City, Carly Rae Jepsen • White Rabbit - Egypt Central • Not Gonna Die - Skillet • The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars • We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool, DCup • Nobody's Listening - Linkin Park • Disco Pogo - Die Atzen • German Sparkle Party - The Something Experience • Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects • I Could Be The One - Avicii, Nicky Romero • Can't Hold Us - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis • Still Into You - Paramore • Primadonna - MARINA • Pompeii - Bastille • 恋愛サーキュレーション (Renai Circulation) - 物語シリーズ • Awake And Alive - Skillet • Monster - Skillet • Poker Face - Lady Gaga • Falling Inside The Black - Skillet

#i want to personally apologize for the sheer amount of PATD songs there are here #shoutout to the xDayDreamersStudiox “I Don't Care” amv SPECIFICALLY #or the I Don't Care nightcore video with the BFT as the background image #anyway i'm sorry if there are any repeats #this playlist is likely to be updated from time to time as i remember more songs #some of these are really niche and some are personal additions but i hope y'all who were there for the days of imovie AMVs will remember #some of these #aaaaanyway hetalia youtube LOOOOOOOOOVED fob's “Save Rock And Roll” album when it came out #and “American Beauty/American Psycho” #same with panic's “Too Weird To Live/Too Rare To Die” and “Death of a Bachelor” #hetalia #hetalia playlist #hetalia music #hetalia world series #floralcrematorium music #hws #ヘタリア #Spotify

[nkogneatho]

𝐈𝐃𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐘.

—a/n: just a toji thought i can't get off my head. this ain't a fic or anything but i need to tell you this. but tell me if i should write a fic on it tho. major character death, gn!reader, angst, jjk major spoilers.

toji broke up with you on the day he went to fight gojo. despite showing nothing but utter confidence, there was a tiny ration of his heart aware that he might not come home to you tonight. he might not get to eat the meal you prepared. he might not get to wrap his arms around you. the thought of you being alone, waiting for him with a smile on your face...he couldn't bear it. so he did what he always does. masks himself as the villian.

before leaving for the fight, he'd tell you how he's lost feelings for you, escalating the ground beneath your world. what did he mean? all of a sudden? what happened? your brain immediately started replaying memories, desperately hoping to find a reason where did it go wrong. You started crying, begging for him to give you a reason, or did you do something wrong but his face showed not a single shred of remorse. It felt someone stabbed your heart with an object big enough to hurt it, but not strong enough to pierce it, to leave you with an agonizing pain.

so when you leave your shared apartment—don't think you'll ever say that word again—after packing your things, hating his guts with all you've got, he sighs in satisfaction. When you're at the door, gracing him with one last glance of yours, your brows furrowed, all you could witness was him smiling. you hated him even more. Here you were, hurting, and all he did was smile? did he find someone else? but you didn't have the privilege to keep wanting him anymore so you left.

When you were crashing at a friend's place, Shiu gave you call. You tried to ignore it but 10 missed calls back to back means something.

"Toji's dead. The head of the Gojo Clan killed him." Your world shifted once again. This time, swifter than the breakup. You asked a hundred questions, denying, desperately trying to find a loophole out of this pain but Shiu answered them all as if it was the truth. And to your unfortune, it was. You've never cried harder.

But, when you happen to witness him at Shibuya, you convinced yourself that either you were hallucinating or he was doppelganger. When he locked eyes with you, his lips widened in a smile. Tears formed in your eyes. You immediately jumped in his arms.

"missed me that much, huh? i guess you don't hate me anymore" he said, arms wrapped around you.

"shut up and kiss me." when his lips crashed against yours, it felt like heaven. you've been deprived of this for years and now you finally had it. you knew why he broke up with you. toji tried to convince you to leave since he wasn't real. just an incarnation going to leave again for good, but years later your denial stage wasn't over as you tried to make him stop talking with your kisses.

"baby," he whispered. "I have to leave. It's time you go."

"No." Your voice firm but crumbled in seconds when you realized he won't listen to you anyways. "I don't care if you're not real. I need you. You can't just walk away again. You still have to make up for breaking up with me."

"Sweetheart, please." He sighed, trying to keep his composure but tears rolled down his eyes, a sight the world never witnessed but you.

"Toji. . .I know you wanted to protect my feelings so you made up all that breakup thing. . . but baby it still hurt. Nothing in this world can make me stop loving you. I hated you for it but I hated you because I love you so. damn. much"

"I am sorry. I love you and I am sorry I was so bad to you. I never deserved you. I never deserved your light, but thank you for gracing me with it." His hands started pushing you away.

"No. Stay. Toji!"

"I will always be by your side." In a quick second, he grabbled the broken part of the sword and stabbed his head.

"No. . . no. To—Toji? NO, BABY. TOJI!" you sobbed, crying as loud as ever as you held the corpse of a stranger morphed back to it's orginal body.

"Always be by my side? You left me, you motherfucker," you cried.

Ironic how there was a dead body lying on your lap, but you were the one experiencing death. Knowing everything he did in his life after he met you was to keep you safe from others, yet he was the one causing your heart the most pain right now. But how do you hate a criminal who also happens to be your saviour?

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji angst #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #jjk x you #jjk x gn!reader #toji x gn!reader #jjk toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers

[wynsummers]

i've been thinking about the whole "friction in his jeans" thing a lot lately, and while it is certainly one of the more iconic instances of the lyric in the CD booklet being different from the actual song, it is far from the only one. on top of that, there are quite a few lyrics that play with double meanings that only become clear when they're written out.

so, i present a collection of every lyric in the fob CD booklets that differ from the final version, punctuation and double meanings that aren't noticeable unless the song is written out, and any other interesting details i find in the process, or a really long post of me cornplating about fob:

disclaimer that if the difference is small enough/doesn't change the meaning of the line i won't include it because that would take me years (for example, the book says "light that smoke for giving up on me" and patrick says "yeah, one for giving up on me" but literally who cares that changes nothing. everything i include here is relevant, i think)

follow-up disclaimer that there are a bunch of fucking typos in every single one of these books because these boys never proofread anything but unless i think it's significant in some way i probably will skip it

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE:

tell that mick:

"I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle - I confess / now ash yourself out on the insides, when I said I loved you I swear I lied"

grand theft autumn:

"someday i'll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you... but for the meantime i'll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with my clothes on at 4:00 in the afternoon"

saturday:

"pete and i said goodbye to astoria with promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence"

(most of these are just silly but this one fucking hurts)

sending postcards:

"fake it like you matter - cause that's the biggest secret you have to keep"

chicago is so two years ago:

"that means that I believed every single lie you said (and learned from the best)"

"cause every pain of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains i went through to avoid you / and every little pat on the shoulder for attention fails to mention i still hate you" (pain of glass instead of pane of glass - i think this is supposed to be a parallel. that or pete just misspelled pane)

patron saint:

"I'm holding out and I'm holding on to every letter and every grudge"

*flashes forward 20 years to hmlag*

anyway

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE:

our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn't get sued:

"we're good friends only when you're on your knees"

sugar:

the icon, the legend

"don't mind me, i'm watching you two from the closet wishing to be the friction in his jeans" 🎉🏳��‍🌈

dark alley:

"joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of 'just friends'"

"I'm hopelessly hopeful that you're just hopeless enough"

champagne for my real friends, real pain for my shrimp friends:

"you steer away in a rearview mirror, make my head swim"

i slept with someone in fob:

"someone old, no one new / always borrowed, always you"

THIS ONE!! THIS FUCKING ONE [CAR CRASH] [SIRENS]

ahem. anyway

sixteen candles:

"i confess, i'm just messed up / dropping 'i'm sorrys' like you're still around"

XO:

"to hands"

(that's it. no "between legs, and whatever it takes" just hands. just fuckin. to hands)

"to hotel stares/stairs" (wordplay!! to clarify it literally says "stares/stairs" in the book)

"choose awe or sympathy"

also in the last verse it says 'to the "love"' with the quotes which is just kinda funny

INFINITY ON HIGH:

this ain't a scene:

"crashing not like hips or hearts"

i'm like a lawyer:

"i only keep myself this sick in the head cause i know how the words get you (off)"

"collect the bad habits that you couldn't bare to keep" (idk this one might just be a typo)

hum hallelujah:

similarly, this might also be a typo, but "versus" is spelled "verses"

(after) life:

ok. ok. hear me out. this is the cornplatiest i have ever been. but on genius it says "death's in a double bed"

and on the lyric book it says "deaths in a double bed"

that changes everything!!! (not really, i know) it's not death as a concept or figure or whatever it's deaths. as in multiple people dying. aaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaughhhhhhhhhhh

moving on

carpal tunnel:

"we take the sip from life's lush lips"

the line "we might've started singing just a little soon" isn't listed, it's just the goodbye line twice

"but i'm just tired yawns for fawns"

you're crashing:

"the cause, the kid, the charm, and the curse"

ginasfs:

"lips pressed this close to mine"

"but the prince of this failing empire knows" (hhhnnnggggggghhh)

"i've already given up on myself once but the third time is the charm" that's not how numbers work pete <3

"just kind of figured on not figuring myself out"

FOLIE A DEUX:

folie a deux doesn't have a lyric book. just portraits of the boys with empty white pages that have their names written on them. my poor beautiful masterpiece

BELIEVERS NEVER DIE VOL. 1:

fnowae:

not a lyric but for some reason the whole fuckin song is in quotes

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL:

the phoenix:

another punctuation thing but instead of "hope to die" it's "hope-to-dies"

"you're wearing our vintage misery"

alone together:

"my heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in" instead of "broken" (i love double meanings!! i love wordplay!! i love pete wentz!!)

where did the party go:

"i will appear to you if you make yourself shake fast enough"

the mighty fall:

the lyric book straight up doesn't have big sean's part 💔

rat a tat:

at the end there's this "talk less / mean more / let's be electric / like we were before" that i have literally never heard so i'm assuming it's a neat little cut lyric

save rock and roll:

"i will save the songs / the songs we're singing"

AMERICAN BEAUTY / AMERICAN PSYCHO:

irresistible:

"coming in announced" this one. this one's just a typo. come on boys it's been 12 years at this point read the books more than once

"i just dragged my nails on the tile / i just follow your scent" ?? idk

"this will not be a battle"

ab/ap:

for some fucking reason it just says "she's an american beauty" three times at the start of the song 😭

"and as we're drifting off to sleep" isn't in there, it just says "and all those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep"

the kids aren't alright:

indulge me once more, reader. i am cornplating again

instead of "former heroes who quit too late and just wanna fill up their trophy case again" it's "wanted to" do you understand why that makes me insane

also they have it as "will put your curse in reverse" instead of "we" which could be a typo but could also be a neat little change

uma thurman:

"you cut me deep like uma thurman"

jet pack blues:

"i'm the kind that can turn june to september / the last one that you'll ever remember"

"between these two white highway signs"

immortals:

"i try to picture you without me but i can't"

M A N I A:

hold me tight or don't:

the line "i'm pretty sure that this isn't how our story ends" isn't included

wilson:

"i know it's just a number but to me you're the 8th wonder"

sunshine riptide:

they didn't include any of burna boy's lines 😒

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST:

smfs doesn't have any lyric changes that i noticed, just the usual typos.

update: future emma here, upon further contemplation I have decided to add the line "I'd never go, I just want to be invited" since the first verse definitely says "I'll" (thank you sugarweregoinin and foliejpg for inspiring this revelation)

and there we have it! if you're insane patient enough to have made it until the end, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed! if there are any i missed/any in CDs that i don't have please let me know i find these so fascinating (if you couldn't tell). i just love getting glimpses into their writing process and seeing how the songs we know and love evolve before they get to us. i might also do a post about how spotify/genius gets a bunch of their lyrics wrong because it pisses me off but this is all for now, good day/night!

#fall out boy #fob #i can't believe i spent four hours on this #take this to your grave #from under the cork tree #infinity on high #folie a deux #save rock and roll #american beauty/american psycho #mania #so much (for) stardust #patrick stump #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

Ch.26 (Red Dragon)

THEY'RE. SO. DANG. CUTE.

Damn these kids. I also love the fact that Falin has different hair as a child. Kids never changing their hairstyle as they grow into adults is such a storytelling pet peeve of mine.

Also: Laios at his most rambunctious? You mean now? Currently?

This man saw his son and daughter outside for half a second and already somehow knew they were up to shenanigans.

Oh no, he grabbed the wrong hand! How embarrassing. Hate it when that happens.

Bro, he's like 10, you need to find a better person to yell at.

That was solid. A konk on the head that came straight from the heart. The kind only a sibling can give.

.....th-thank you, pokedex junior...?

I would be thrilled if my kid knew how to ward off the undead! Well... I guess maybe thrilled is the wrong word for it.... There are certainly some complications to consider.

He's so cute. He's such a good brother!

HEY, THAT'S ILLEGAL.

Now that you mention it, healing magic stitching entire wounds closed so quickly would probably generate not only a lot of strain, but also heat, and also an insane amount of... well, if not pain, then at least itching on par with pain. That's SO MUCH REGROWTH.

Gotta give it to Marcille, she ain't bitching about things being weird now. Girl's FOCUSED.

Horrifyingly simple. I love it.

He really is just going to CoolAid man his way in there, huh.

But seriously, they're just walking on it! How are they slicing so cleanly? What about bones? They can just... what... cut between the ribs? What about the peritoneum or whatever? If they cut enough of that, wouldn't the innards start spilling out?

So Falin either wasn't eaten or... was already digested......but why would it be COMPLETELY empty?

It's not rested in THAT long... AND it fried up a bunch of Worgs and didn't eat them, now that I think of it. What's the use of killing prey and not consuming it, for a creature that has such a high caloric need?

Laios, mate, you good? Marcille is having an understandably stronger reaction to losing Falin but you're just... coping I guess?

You know, as someone familiar with ttrpgs this line of reasoning is solid. Resurrection spells need materials from the body to be effective. But to anyone else, this MUST be creepy as hell, right? Or am I overthinking?

................how do you even begin to come to terms with a death if there's nothing too big to come back from?

How is it that it's only NOW that I'm thinking of it?

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #chekhov reads dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi liveblog

[untitledmemes]

Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Oh, shit. Did you hear all of that? ”

“ I enjoy your theatrics. ”

“ I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. ”

“ Well hello there, you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? ”

“ Your last attempt at salvation starts here. ”

“ Thank you so much for making this. Seriously. Amazing. ”

“ Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it? ”

“ Sex sells, don't it? ”

“ I really don't want to exploit you in that way. ”

“ This body was made to be exploited. ”

“ I could keep goin' all night, baby. ”

“ Why do you think I'm here? ”

“ I like being forced. ”

“ I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid. ”

“ That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? ”

“ Just because nobody made it out before, doesn't mean it's not possible. ”

“ There's just no way I could blow it, not this once in a lifetime chance. ”

“ It's a happy day in hell. ”

“ Ha! I fucking got you!. ”

“ So, I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. ”

“ I need you to be less horny, if possible. ”

“ I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit! ”

“ So, anyway, we fucked and it was awesome. ”

“ Fucking love putting my name on shit. Shit's the best. ”

“ Alright, um, maybe we can try and fix it in post. ”

“ Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? ”

“ I wouldn't try that, my dear. ”

“ I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you are going to make this work. ”

“ Awesome job, danger tits. Pound it. ”

“ Those are my people. You know that, right? ”

“ They had their chance and they earned damnation. ”

“ How does that feel? To know how little you matter. ”

“ Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time. ”

“ Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? ”

“ It means we're all royally fucked. ”

“ We should just go down there now and destroy them. ”

“ Oh please, you had less than half a chance when you started all this. ”

“ Well, it's not like people are going to show up at our doorstep. ”

“ Now that's good television. ”

“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”

“ Fuck my life. ”

“ I have a fire to put out upstairs. ”

“ Well, looks like you have everything under control here. ”

“ Take care of the piss baby. ”

“ That fucking slut walked out on me. ME. I fucking made him! ”

“ Which of these makes me look sexier? ”

“ What are you doing? You're not going over there. ”

“ Now that's why they pay you the big bucks. ”

“ I think he's had enough. ”

“ Thank you... For letting your guard down! ”

“ Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. ”

“ That fucker is back! ”

“ You still pissed he almost beat you that time? ”

“ Things changed a lot since he left town. ”

“ Welcome home. I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone. ”

“ Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? ”

“ Where's he been? Who gives a shit? ”

“ You old timey prick, I'll show you suffering. ”

“ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. ”

“ How exactly are we supposed to stop it? ”

“ Who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting? ”

“ I didn't come looking for a fight. ”

“ Aren't you supposed to protect this place? ”

“ I give you a week. Tops. ”

“ It's nice to have someone interested for once. ”

“ Never leave me again. ”

“ I definitely remember you now. ”

“ It's great, right? Keep going. ”

“ The only cool thing has is to say no to drugs. ”

“ I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage! ”

“ You like me. You really like me! ”

“ You actually think you can change? ”

“ You slippery little shit! ”

“ I fucking knew there was something shitty about you. ”

“ Get your aggressively average body off of me! ”

“ This little bitch is a traitor! ”

“ Wait, you were caught? It hasn't even been a day! ”

“ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts, but sorry is where it starts. ”

“ Why are you so lame? ”

“ You'll have to try better than that next time, ol' pal. ”

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp prompts #rp starter #rp starters #memes #starters #prompts #roleplay meme #roleplay prompt #roleplay starter #roleplay memes #roleplay prompts #roleplay starters #sentence meme #sentence memes #sentence prompt #sentence prompts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 1

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Abusive relationship, getting *out* of an abusive relationship, alcoholism, alcohol, mention of sleeping in a car. Summary: One of the worst days of your life takes a sharp right turn into the unexpected when you learn of the death of a long-lost relative. Notes: It's heeeere! Spooky season has officially arrived and with it comes our annual spooky-themed soulmate story! Bringing our two canonical vampires together is going to be endless shenanigans. 🧛‍♂️🧡 Since this story is mostly set inside one of the mansions that I work in, we're planning on using photos of the house as chapter headers some of the time. Visual reference fun!

"Hurry up and get your shit." The drunken bellow from downstairs is followed up by a loud crash, another curse and a thump as your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – continues to throw the equivalent of a temper tantrum. It hadn't been the first time you've fought, or that the asshole had threatened to throw you out on your ass, but the fist sized hole in the wall that had only been an inch from your face was new, escalating violence.

"Lazy, good for nothing cunt! I work all goddamn day and you couldn't even fucking do what I asked!"

It's not that you don't work. Or that you didn't work. But after getting fired four days ago following yet another day calling out of work to clean up some mess caused by your boyfriend, your manager had said it was the final straw and sent you packing. Since then you had tried to clean up the house, get the back-log of laundry out of the way, and at least make a nice dinner while you applied for new jobs. It isn't your fault that the neighbor's dog got into your yard and ripped a hole in one of his shirts on the clothesline. There is absolutely no way you could have done anything about it. But it is the thing that sent him over the deep end this time and has him screaming at you yet again.

Running upstairs was the best thing you could do to get away from his fist, and now you're just praying that you have enough trash bags in the house to cram your stuff into before he decides to come after you again. You'll be sleeping in your car tonight, but at least all the locks on the doors work. You can manage a few nights in a securely locked car. It's just...that you're not quite sure where you'll go after that.

The sound of the top to a Natural Light beer being cracked open sounds from the base of the stairwell and he takes several loud gulps. Belching from drinking too fast and hitting the wall with the flat of his hand. "Come on, bitch!" He calls out. "I ain't got all night!"

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pace back to the top of the stairwell and lean down so you can actually see him. Ten goddamn years with this man and this is how it ends. "I'll be gone by the time you get home," you promise him, the resignation obvious in your voice. He'll go to the bar to see his friends like he does after he eats dinner almost every night. You've never been the kind of girlfriend to stop him from seeing his friends, so they have had a routine for almost as many years as you've been together.

"Good." He glares up at you and points a finger. "You better not take any of my shit either." He warns you. "Tired of taking care of your stupid ass. You're in for a rude wake up call. Shit's not easy out there." He burps again and turns around to stumble down the hall. "You are such a disappointment." He yells out before opening the front door and letting it slam behind him, rattling the windows.

"Yeah." You sigh, shaking your head with one of those cheap fleece throw blankets in your hand. It has ballet slippers on it, a relic of a childhood long dream long forgotten. "I know I am." Holding up the blanket to look at it more closely, you debate throwing the damn thing out entirely, but it will keep you warm in the car tonight. It will go into a trash bag along with everything else.

As soon as the blanket is shoved in with your two miniature throw pillows, your phone goes off in your pocket. Expecting it to be Derek, ready to yell at you some more, you're surprised to see Private splashed across the screen instead. If you don't answer it and it is him for any reason, there will be hell to pay. "Hello?"

The smooth, cultured voice on the other end of the line is slightly raspy. As if the person has spent a lifetime swallowing brandy and smoking cigars, or had spent all day talking. In actuality, both of those things are true. Your name is spoken in the form of a question. Asking if he had reached the right person.

"Speaking." The automatic answer doesn't make you feel any less confused, but at least they aren't yelling at you. "Can I ask who's calling, please?"

"Antonio Colette," He tells you quickly. "With Colette and Dupree. I am calling about your late, great aunt, Etienne Brown." He shuffles through the papers to bring up the will that had been laid out, along with the investigators report on you. It was how he had found your current number. "I am executing her estate and quite frankly, it has been a search to find you."

"I'm sorry," you shake your head against the phone as though the man could possibly see you. "I don't know anyone by that name. My, um...I don't know a lot of my family. But that isn't a name I recognize. Maybe you have the wrong person?" There is no reason that any family member you've never heard of would have left you anything in a will, so he must have the wrong number. That's the only explanation you can think of.

"No, ma'am." He tells you. "I don't think I have the wrong person. Is this not a good time to talk?" He can hear something in your voice, and while most were always happy to inherit something, you might have pressing matters to attend to.

Hesitating for a reason you can't quite put your finger on, you glance out the window in the corner of your now former bedroom, the one that overlooks the driveway. Derek's truck is gone, and your shoulders slump a little. You have hours until he comes home now. Usually it's not until after last call. "No...no it's okay. I'm just...not having a great day. What did you want to speak to me about?"

"Ms. Brown was very particular about her will. As executor of the estate, it is my duty to make sure that her last wishes are carried out. As there is no other living relative on your mother's side, she decided that you would be the sole heir of her estate." He explains. "This includes the eight-bedroom mansion and the trust that has been established to pay for the manor. Her private accounts. The total combined monetary worth of twelve point two million dollars."

The crash that he hears from your side of the phone call is you falling over – a product of your legs giving out the second he said the word mansion and then losing your balance all over again at the sum total of the estate. "Wh—what?" You manage to breathe, barely managing not to break down in tears all over again. For an entirely different reason, this time.

"Of course, there is one issue that you must be made aware of." He's used to people being surprised, so he doesn't try to explain. You will soon be holding paperwork that you can read again and again if needed. "There are two tenants in the mansion. Ms. Brown has given them a lifetime estate on the rooms they occupy." He tells you. "Meaning they live there for as long as they wish."

"O—okay..." As fast as your mind can possibly turn, you still feel like you can't quite keep up with it, and you end up curled up at the foot of your bed hugging the throw blanket that was still in your hands when your phone rang. "So...I just...get a mansion? And twe—twelve million dollars? And the only caveat is that I have two tenants?" None of it makes any sense, but you'll be damned if it doesn't sound like the perfect way out of the hell that you've found yourself in.

“Pretty much.” Antonio agrees. “When would you be available to tour the property and sign some paperwork?” He asks, flipping over to his calendar to pencil you in.

"I—" Stumbling again, your forehead drops onto the pillow clutched against your chest before you tip your head back and stare up at the mottled ceiling. "I guess...as soon as I can get there?" It's not as though you have anything else to do at the moment. Or even anyone to tell where you're going. "But, can I ask? Um...where exactly is this house?"

“Newport, Rhode Island.” He supplies. “I must confess that I could not find a current address for you, just this phone number, so I am not quite sure where you are traveling from.

"Dandridge, Tennessee." Six years you've lived in this town and it never felt like home, but maybe now that's for the best. With a sigh, you try to think if you've ever even heard of Newport, Rhode Island and come up entirely blank other than knowing that Rhode Island is in New England. Which is a pretty decent drive away. "It might take me a few days to drive up there. Maybe two days? Depending on how late into the night I drive."

“That’s fine.” Colette agrees. “I will give you my number. If you find yourself here quicker than you anticipate, give me a call and I can meet you with the keys.”

"Okay." For a second the brief fear that your car might not even last a two-day drive flashes through your mind but you push it aside and let out a sigh in favor of sitting up to grab the pen off your nearby desk so you can take down the lawyer's phone number. "I...um...thank you, Mr. Colette. This is..." It's insane. It's completely insane and you can't even wrap your head around it. "It's life changing."

“I will see you in two days.” Mr. Colette responds and then ends the call before he sighs. Dropping his head into his hand, he rubs his temple. Whoever you are, he feels sorry for you. No way you know what the hell you are getting into.

******

The first night you're honestly exhausted, and you end up sleeping in your packed-full car behind the twenty-four-hour diner with the really nice waitresses that don't get upset that you need a safe place to park for one night. Telling them that you're moving had done the trick, and the extremely kind pair of women had gotten their line cook to whip you up a sandwich for dinner and one more to take with you when you left town in the morning.

The gps on your phone – thank god the bill is in your name – says that it will take thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes of driving. Deciding to go, go, go as best you can, you leave town at sunrise and end up crossing the border into Rhode Island at almost eleven that same night. Stopping for bathroom breaks and to gas up the car – plus traffic, of course – has cost some time, but you made it. Now all you had to do was make the last leg of the journey out to Newport. Surprised to find that Newport is actually on an island (didn't you learn at one point that Rhode Island isn't an island?) you pull into a truck stop to finally sleep for the night. You'll do the last forty-five minutes of the drive in the morning.

******

Feeling and probably looking like shit the next morning is the price you pay for getting here quickly, but you call the lawyer at nine in the morning when his office's website says it opens and arrange to meet him at the address he gives you. Bellevue Avenue just sounds fancy, and when you get to the island you realize why. This entire town seems filled to the brim with mansions, expensive shops, and swanky restaurants.

Antonio had been surprised that you had driven through the night, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. He gives you the address to his offices and tells his secretary to make sure that there is a good selection of bagels and muffins out this morning in case you would like something while you go over the paperwork. You are a very important client, and he would like to keep you if possible.

Tired and more than a little ragged, you pull your car up to the office on Thames Street and cut the engine with a sigh. There’s a lot of touristy stuff around, especially on this part of the island, and that means you haven’t seen a single dingy diner or fast food drive-up since you got here. Everything is expensive cafes and fancy restaurants. The thought that you might have to skip breakfast is discouraging until you walk into the lawyer’s office tentatively and smell coffee.

"Good morning." Raquel stands from behind her desk and smooths her pencil skirt down before she walks around the desk. Antonio and his partner prefer that she personally greet each client and she doesn't let her facial expression change from one of welcome when she sees the tired, beaten down appearance of the woman who walked into the door. Her heart clenches at the sight and even if you are not the client that he had been expecting, she will invite you to have some coffee and pastries while she waits for someone to work you into their calendar. "May I help you?" She asks as she offers her manicured hand to shake.

“I—I’m here to see Mr. Colette.” You give her your name along with the handshake she obviously expects, and try to shake the feeling that that smile of hers is probably plastered on. Of course it is. It’s first thing in the morning and she works in a law office.

"Of course." You are the important client, so she immediately waves you to the glass doors. "Please follow me." She tells you. "Mr. Colette is getting all the necessary documents together, but we have tea, coffee, bagels, and some delicious pastries available while you wait?" She wants you to feel comfortable as she walks you down the short hall to the smaller conference room where she had set everything up for the meeting.

“Thank you.” It doesn’t make one single bit of sense to you that they’ve gone through all this trouble, but this long-lost great aunt of yours must have been an important client. Maybe they think you’re important too? Well – they’ll be disabused of that idea pretty soon.

"Please let me know if there is anything I can get you." She senses that you aren't comfortable and she doesn't want to crowd you or do anything to upset you. "I'll let Mr. Colette know you are here."

There are a few minutes to wait, sitting in that conference room surrounded by food that you don’t dare touch, and you end up staring blankly at a photograph on the wall of a yacht on the ocean. It’s almost trance-like, how you sit there and stare, and you end up nearly jumping out of your seat when the heavy wooden doors open again and an elegant looking, well-dressed man walks through flanked by the woman who greeted you.

“Good morning.” Antonio smiles as he assesses the woman who had inherited a fortune and more. He is aware of the details of the will and the history behind it, so he feels like this is personal. “We will have quite a few things to go through, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to make myself a plate.” He chuckles. “No breakfast yet and I’m hungry.”

“Of course.” It’s a little bit like permission, and you feel comfortable enough pouring a cup of black coffee and putting a croissant on a plate for yourself when Mr. Colette motions for you to join him. In a few mere moments the three of you are sitting down at the conference table and Raquel presents her boss with a thick folder of paperwork in a leather sleeve and takes out her own notebook in turn.

“Now.” Antonio looks down at the paperwork and then back up at you. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” He starts off with. “Hopefully this transition will be seamless for you and perhaps after this I can show you around your new home?”

“It still doesn’t feel very real,” you admit, carefully sipping your hot coffee and looking down at the papers in front of him. “And you said there’s two other people…already living there?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Family friends of Ms. Brown.” He tells you vaguely.

“Alright.” Already you’ve made up your mind not to bother them, these people who live in a house that you’re inheriting out of nowhere. Who are you to intrude in their lives? “I assume there’s a lot of paperwork? I’ve never owned a house before so this is all new to me.”

“The taxes and the maintenance for the home are paid out of the trust. So you do not need to worry about that. If anything happens, call and we will take care of getting the bill paid.” He explains. “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering you debit cards and credit cards.” He pulls out an envelope and slides it over to you. “All of them are active and ready to use.”

So people really live like this, huh? is all you can think to yourself as the lawyer’s secretary also sets a card down in front of you that has a man’s name and phone number with the title of caretaker listed on it. That along with the cards already has your head spinning, but then a set of keys is set down on the table as well. Front door. Kitchen door. Terrace doors. Each antique key is labeled carefully with a tag in elegant handwriting. Closets. Attic storage. Utility closet. It’s so much to take in — too much, arguably — and then a set of car keys is added to the pile. “What’s this?” You ask, already starting to feel your head spin a little.

“This is the car.” Antonio tells you. “The 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that Ms. Brown also willed to you.” He hums. “I have all the maintenance records for the car here as well. Her other cars were sold or given away before she died, but this one conveyed with her other belongings to you. I believe she said, ‘it goes with the house’.”

“I—um—wow…” Not that you know much about cars, but it sounds impressive and you’re momentarily thankful that you’ve been driving stick for the last few years, since your broken-down third-hand Volvo came into your life. “Are there any more surprises I should be aware of?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you will consider surprises.” The lawyer chuckles and slides a scrap of paper towards you. “The combination to the safe. It’s where the collection of Ms. Brown’s jewelry is.”

A safe full of jewels, a presumably fancy vintage car, a mansion, and a literal fortune? Frankly, it’s all a surprise. “If this house comes with servants I might black out,” you warn jokingly, staring at the slip of paper with the safe combination like it’s a foreign language.

“Well, the staff is paid from the trust.” He tells you seriously. “If you wish to make changes, please let me know. Right now….” He shuffles some papers. “There is the housekeeper and her assistant, the gardener, the pool company, and the window washer.” He looks up. “The pool company and window washer come by once a week. The gardener, the housekeeper and her assistant are all full time employees.”

The dead pan stare you have for the man is completely slack, and it takes far longer than you’re proud of to shake off the embarrassment of staring at him like an imbecile. “You’re serious?” You ask in equal parts confusion and awe. “I was kidding.”

“I assure you, the help is needed.” He tells you seriously. “A house of this size could not possibly be managed by one person alone.”

“Right.” The best you can do is nod vaguely and try not to have a panic attack over the responsibility landing in your lap, and you look between the lawyer and his clerk again. “You said it’s…eight bedrooms?” That place must be a palace…

“That is…the main bedrooms.” Antonio admits. “That doesn’t include the old servants’ quarters, although they are not occupied now.”

“Fuuuuck…” Even mumbling under your breath is obvious, and the paper that is slid in front of you is a clearly labeled blueprint of the house. Four floors, distinctly marked 38,000 square feet, and with more doorways, closets, and stairwells than you can shake a stick at.

“I can understand that it is overwhelming, but the staff is prepared for your arrival.” You look panicked and he doesn’t think that’s a good thing. It’s almost as if you feel…guilty.

“Can I ask…?” Swallowing down the dear at how daunting all of this feels, you abandon your small breakfast and sit back in the uncomfortable padded chair you’re seated in. “Anything about Ms. Brown? What did she do? How did she pass?” Where did all her money come from? The fact is, you had never even heard of her, but she left you an entire life.

“Ms. Brown died at 91.” He’s a little surprised that you are curious, but you don’t seem to be the type of person that is overly greedy. “Complications of old age.”

“I see.” Jittery fingers curl the edge of one page and you bite your lip, trying to see if anything doesn’t fit. But it all seems to knit together properly, in a way that just accidentally benefits you in the craziest way possible. “And she was just…independently wealthy?” It seems unlikely considering your family has so little, but who knows? Anything is possible.

“Some of it was leftover from her wealthy soulmate.” He admits. “They never had children. Some of it was from investments. She was a smart lady.”

“She must have been.” It’s easy to just waste money, you’ve seen that firsthand too many times. “Well…I assume I need to sign things? Make the ownership…official?”

“Absolutely.” He cracks a small smile. “Sign your life away, is the saying.”

Raquel slides a stack of papers over towards you. “All the places for you to sigh are indicated with a tab.”

A dozen different signatures and initials go by like lightning and before you know it, Raquel is excusing herself with the stack of papers to make copies and file things away. “Is there…anything else?” You ask, tentative about what else there could even be.

“Nothing that I can think of.” Mr. Colette hums. “I had the housekeeper stock the pantry and kitchen with basic items.” He tells you.

“That was very kind of you.” Since you aren’t really sure what else to say, you take a determined look at the pile of keys in front of you and muster a smile. “Would you mind showing me the house? The drive was long and it would be nice to settle in.” The further you get from Derek and his reach, the better off you know you will be. Even if you had loved him as best as you could — it had never been enough. Maybe these next people won’t be too disappointed in you. Not the way he was, at least.

“Of course.” He would make sure that you are comfortable before he turns you loose on the house. Or perhaps abandoning you to it would be a more apt phrasing. “Whenever you wish to leave here. I’ve cleared my schedule for the morning.”

“There’s no time like the present, I guess? I can follow you in my car.” You have half a mind to ask if the other occupants will be there, but you can’t see how he would possibly know that so you put the question aside in your mind.

“Of course.” He can’t think of anything else that needs to be address. “We will file all of the paperwork with the probate court and you will be receiving new registration for the car and a title to the house in four to six weeks. Sometimes it does take a few months.” He warns.

“I can’t imagine I’ll need them with any kind of speed.” After all, you have no plans to do anything of importance. In fact, if you never do anything besides sit in your little corner of this town for the rest of your life and remain unnoticed by everyone, you’ll be happier for it.

“Well.” He hands off the papers to the assistant and stands. “Shall we?” He asks, motioning towards the door.

******

Even with the heavy traffic of downtown Newport, the drive from the Law Offices of Colette & Dupree over to Bellevue Avenue takes under ten minutes. You drive by a grocery store and a drug store on the way – both good things to know the location of – as well as numerous high end shops, restaurants, and cafes. There is a bustling town here and it looks like students, too. Young adults with stuffed-full backpacks wearing all manner of paraphernalia that reads Salve Regina University seem to dominate certain areas.

After what seems like dozens of affluent homes, Mr. Colette’s blinker turns on before one of many stone walls and turns left into a driveway. When you follow suit and drive through the front gate, you’re glad to be alone because the gasp you let out is audible. Chateau-sur-Mer rises up and peeks out from behind trees like a monument. More massive than you ever would have dreamed of, the stone-faced house points north with a beautiful, multifaceted landscape surrounding it in every direction. Three stories, with a beautiful back porch, and spires and a tower to boot, the house is offset by a gigantic weeping tree that you don’t recognize and an otherwise reasonably sized house in one corner of the property that seems utterly dwarfed by the mansion it otherwise guards. Caretaker, you remember after a second. There is a caretaker…and presumably that is where he lives? It’s just…you had already had trouble wrapping your head around it. But now that you see it? It’s just…beautiful.

The sleek Jaguar comes to a stop and Antonio steps out and turns towards the older, slightly perilous looking Volvo. He hopes that you will get rid of it, or replace it now that you have the means. He had watched it seemingly buck several times while stopped at traffic lights.

“This is it?” If your question sounds dubious, it isn’t meant to. Honestly you’re almost too flabbergasted to really wrap your head around everything. There are a few cars parked under a structure to the left of the house that you assume used to be stables, from the look of it. Now the small windows that show you inside give a peak at bumpers and break lights instead of manes and carriages. There are a half dozen cars inside that you assume must belong to the other occupants and the staff, with more empty spaces standing open before the gorgeous black and chrome sports car that you now hold the keys to. “I mean it’s…it’s so much room. I’m almost glad there’s other people who will be around a lot.”

“The property is safe.” He assures you. “There’s a surveillance system that you can access and a security system that nothing in the world can rival.” He chuckles at his own joke and motions towards the house. “Shall we go inside?”

“Sure.” Not that you understand why one little old lady would need such a hardcore security system, but you nod anyway and let the lawyer – your lawyer? – lead the way. The house looms, almost daring you to come inside, but you are faced with an ordinary carved wooden door when you actually get close.

"It was built in 1852. Or completed in that year." Mr. Colette tells you as he takes the large keyring from you to unlock the front door and hands the keys back to you with a small grin. "It was once considered a ‘cottage’." He scoffs. "Although I tend to think of something a little smaller as a cottage."

“This is about four cottages all stacked on top of each other.” Walking through the front door cloaks you in near-darkness immediately. When your eyes adjust you stumble up a half-dozen wide marble steps into a front hall that grows up and up and up into an atrium taller than any you’ve ever seen before. The staircase behind you looks like it belongs to the set of a BBC drama and the thick red velvet curtains hanging in the entryway feel more like an old proscenium theater than a house. But the warm carved wood everywhere and colorfully painted forest scenes on the walls are immediately cozy in their own right. “Oh wow…” Your eyes are wide as you look around. It’s…it’s stunning.”

“Any changes you want to make, you are perfectly able to.” The lawyer reminds you, although he couldn’t imagine wanting to change anything about this estate. The mixture of Victorian and Gilded age architecture is a perfect combination to make a gorgeous house.

“I really don’t think that will be necessary.” After all, people already live here. The last thing you want to do is intrude on other people’s lives. “So this is the Great Hall, I guess?” The floor plan that Raquel gave you at the lawyer’s office is going to end up being invaluable, you think, as you pull it out and inspect the drawing of the first floor.

“Yes.” While he’s happy you don’t want to change anything, your tone makes it sound like it would be rude to do so. “The kitchens have been completely remodeled, modern appliances, but they still kept the charm of the rest of the house.”

“And that’s…” You consult the floor plan when there isn’t an obvious appliance anywhere in sight. “In the basement?”

“It is on the lower level.” Guiding you into the house, he explains. “Heat caused by the kitchens was unwanted so after the kitchens being in a different building fell out of fashion, they decided to make sure the kitchen was in the basement to keep the rest of the house cooler during the summer months. There’s the elevator over here, if you wish to use that instead of taking the stairs?”

Mr. Colette motions to the left of the main stairwell, to a portion of the first floor with red and black patterned flooring, and down a hallway. Curious enough to be led around by the suggestion and also noting that the floor plan in your hands says Servants’ Hall for this portion of the house, you follow him tentatively and watch him open what appeared to be a regular closet door. Instead there is a metal grating behind it, which is also opened, and a carved dark wood elevator car stands waiting for you. The kind of thing that would absolutely get you killed in a horror movie, it’s surprisingly sturdy when you step into it and Colette closes the door and gate easily. He presses the ‘B’ button before you can even ask about stairs and the antique elevator jolts to life, headed downstairs.

“Don’t worry,” he sends you a reassuring smile. “The elevator is safe.” He listens to the clanking and feels the carriage start to slow down.

The basement of this house is not like any basement you’ve ever been in before. The enormously long hallway with red and black flooring identical to the hall upstairs seems to stretch and stretch, and there are more doors down here than you could ever fathom needing. But there are voices coming from a room just a few yards away and that is both comforting and nerve-wracking at once. Other people means you won’t be lonely, but it also means new needs, new demands, and potentially new people to disappoint.

“Mr. Colette?” A woman’s voice sounds, loud and clear with a thick Rhode Island accent, from the room and only half a second later a tall, slim woman with gray and silver peppered through her brown hair and glasses attached to a beaded chain appears in the hall. “We weren’t sure when to expect you,” she says with a thin smile. “And this must be the new owner.”

“Yes.” The lawyer who has spent many hours in this house smiles at the housekeeper and waves your forward. Introducing you by your first and last name. “This is Marjorie Taylor and Renee Green. They are the ones who keep the house sparkling and the linens fresh.” He explains. “Mrs. Taylor would also cook for you if you would like.”

“I insist on it,” Mrs. Taylor informs you, smiling in a sort of polite-but-curious way and she shakes your hand when you offer it. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” When you falter and repeat your first name, thinking that maybe she had forgotten it or something, she shakes her head and gives you that same amused, thin-lipped smile. “There are a couple of things we stay old fashioned about here,” she tells you. But leaves out that the contract she signed with the rather suave gentleman who hired her specified it. “I’m Mrs. Taylor. This is Renee. The caretaker is Mr. Taylor, and the gardener is Mr. Finchley. The whole staff live in the caretaker’s cottage on the grounds and we are always reachable except for our day off each week. The schedule is written out for you. I left it on the desk in the library along with the necessary phone numbers and other important information.

“You’re very thorough, Mrs. Taylor.” It comes out with a note of surprise and you drop your eyes to the floor, embarrassed. “I mean — thank you. It is very much appreciated.”

“It is my pleasure.” She assures you with a soft smile. “It will be good to have people in the home again.” The others that were here kept to themselves and were often not around.

“I’m just one person,” you assure her, as if to say that you won’t cause trouble or get in the way. Those were things that Derek accused you of far too often. Even if it is the job that these people have taken on — the job not cleaning and cooking and taking care — you would never want to be a burden or a strain on them. “And…I tend to be fairly low key.”

“Well, I hope that you will let us take care of you.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “We have been delighted to hear that you had been located and were coming. I am sure that we will find a way to rub along together.”

“I’m sure.” You say, trying to smile and be reassuring. These people seem to be expecting a boss, not a wallflower, and that isn’t what you are. “I’m very glad to have gotten the call.” That, at least, is true.

“Would you like breakfast after the tour?” She asks. “I can have a tray brought up to whatever room you choose, and Mr. Taylor would be happy to bring up any luggage and boxes you have.”

Renee nods. “I would be happy to help you unpack.” She offers.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” You protest immediately, but both women give you such placid, polite smiles that you swallow your anxiety about butting into the house and replace it with fear of being rude. “I—I mean…thank you. That actually sounds very nice.”

“Our pleasure.” The elder woman assures you. “Perhaps later on, once you have settled in, we can go over your preferences.” She tilts her head. “For now, do you have any food allergies I should make note of?”

“None.” Just as soon as you shake your head though, something in your gut churns and the smell of Derek’s cheap beer somehow overtakes you out of nowhere. It’s like a sense memory you never needed, and you stammer inelegantly. “But I—I, um…I don’t drink. Alcohol, I mean.” You did before. A long time ago. But seeing what it did to the man you thought you were going to spend your life with has ruined it for you. Soulmate or not, you had really thought Derek was the one. But his one comes in a can.

“Yes ma’am.” If it sounds odd to her, she doesn’t make it visible, just nodding politely. “I will make sure you have a nice tray sent up, I know you will be tired from travel.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” “I’ll show our new resident The call buttons after she chooses a bedroom, so you’ll know where to bring her tray.” Colette assures the housekeeper with a smile. “We’ll just head back upstairs.”

“Perfect.” She smiles at the lawyer. “Oh, Max and Eddie aren’t here right now, so if you show her their rooms, just go right in.”

You thank both women again and follow Mr. Colette back upstairs, where he motions to the left of the hallway where the elevator is hidden and you end up in a room that is wall-to-wall cabinets. There are beautiful serving pieces and sets of China in those cases, as well as stunning crystal and glassware. If you ever throw a Victorian themed dinner party, it looks like you’ll be all set for dishes.

“The preservation society on the island has been itching to get their hands on this estate.” Antonio muses as he slows down to let you take in the vastness of the collection. “Ms. Brown always enjoyed thumbing her nose at them.” He chuckles quietly. “I believe that you would have liked her. She was a firecracker.”

“She had great taste.” There is a set of China in the cases that you keep coming back to — the intricate gilding and beautifully painted flowers utterly mesmerizing you for a few moments. There seem to be three different full sets of China here and two full sets of glassware. Every different size dish or glass you can think of is here.

“Now it is yours to keep and use however you wish.” He reminds you as he moves towards the display of real silverware.

“I think it’s actually harder to wrap my head around that now that I’m in the house,” you admit, trying for a laugh and just sort of letting out a huffed breath instead. On the floor plan, the door to the left of you is marked Butler’s Pantry and that seems like someplace you shouldn’t go. To the right, though, the plan says Dining Room. “This way next?” You guess? The door looks innocuous enough — it’s just a dining room. It can’t be that crazy.

“Wherever you would like to go.” Antonio insists as he pushes open the swinging double doors silently. The large dining room table with the massive set of three chandeliers dominates the room.

The gasp from your lips has you pretty sure that you’re going to be saying “Wow” a hell of a lot in this house, and every room just makes the feeling grow. From the forest green walls of the dining room outfitted with ornate carvings in dark wood – to the silver painted walls of the ballroom with its six foot high mirrors and gilt relief work on every wall panel. A parlor room off one end of the ballroom is all decorated in green silk fabric – even the walls – with clean white accents. Beyond that is a hallway with a stained-glass ceiling and a white marble floor that is decked in red leather sofas and contains huge white marble statues and paintings on the walls that are nearly life sized. The library is the most ornate yet, with carvings on every single wooden surface, lush carpeting and sitting space, and even a hidden door built into one bookcase. “Where does that go?” You ask immediately, too tentative to open it yourself.

“This, I believe, goes to the morning room.” He tells you, cocking his head as he thinks. “It has been some time since I have completely gone through the house.” He admits.

“Is it okay to go through? I mean the house is old but it’s not so old that it’s unsafe, right?” The idea of a door in a book axe is too good for anyone to pass up, especially you.

“Absolutely.” Antonio pulls the leaver to open the door. “Ms. Brown and her soulmate would spend quite I bit of time in this room. I believe it was her favorite.”

The middle section of the bookcase pulls toward you smoothly, allowing you and Mr. Colette to pass into a large corner room with enormous picture windows on two sides and built in bookcases on every other wall. Like an extension of the library there are books everywhere, a red leather windows seat that matches the sofas in the marble hall, and even intricate wooden shutters that close over the windows in sections to regulate how much light is let in. One side of the room is dominated by a large fireplace with yet one more large mirror set in the wall above it, and there are small statues all along the mantle. A billiard table takes up most of the space in the middle of the room, but a table and chairs and a desk also fit neatly with plenty of room to move.

“This house goes on forever,” you observe with a laugh of disbelief.

“It is one of the larger cottages.” He agrees. “In fact, it was the largest house until the Vanderbilts built the Breakers.” He imparts that little fact with a smirk as he looks around the room. “But I’ve always been fond of this estate.”

“It’s beautiful.” Having seen it up close and personal, you can imagine that photos don’t do it justice. It must seem crowded or busy in pictures. But in person? It’s like the house is hugging you. After another minute looking around the morning room, you follow Colette back out to the entryway and head upstairs. There is fabric, not wallpaper, hanging on the walls around the master staircase and it is painted with a forest scene that seems reminiscent of folk tales. Like magic could be lurking behind any corner or a satyr just might come out from behind a bush. There is a tree painted on the underside of the enormous staircase, trunk and branches extending upward to sprout leaves and welcome birds, and it crawls all the way up the stairwell to extend out to the ceiling of the second-floor landing and atrium. Dozens of little painted songbirds light on branches everywhere to make you feel like you have climbed into the forest that is painted on the walls.

“Every room has its own theme.” He explains at the top of the stairwell looking down the hallway at the doors. “If you don’t mind. I will step away to make a call.”

"Of course." Far be it from you to stop him from attending to his business, and you follow along the railing in the hallway to make your way into a different hall. This one is just a rectangular room with the now familiar built-in cases along the walls, paintings and intricate light fixtures above the cases, and six doors to choose from. To open them one by one seems like a massive intrusion, but you can't figure out any other way to see what else is up here. The floor plan marks four bedrooms on this floor as well as a sitting room and a nursery, though you can't understand why there is a nursery if there were never any children living here. Maybe your great-aunt and her soulmate wanted children but just could never have them? That's a far sadder thought than you can muster at the moment.

Hoping that you're facing the right direction, you open the door on the opposite wall from where you are standing and – yes, you had it right – the sitting room is full of plush chairs and love seats with a petite fireplace that has a huge flatscreen television over it where you assume a mirror once stood. The fireplace has a small stand inside it that obviously prevents fires from ever being laid, but more importantly seems to be the storage rack for multiple video game systems. Whoever Max and Eddie are, these other occupants of the house seem to thoroughly enjoy video games.

To the right of that room is a beautifully laid bedroom with honey colored furniture and homey gray and white pinstripe wallpaper. A writing desk stands at the ready between a window trimmed in lace curtains and a white marble fireplace, and it feels like exactly the kind of room that you would love to be brought to if you were a guest in someone's house. As much as it is sweet, inviting, and unexpectedly friendly, it feels…spoken for somehow. It’s nothing you can describe fully, but it makes you think that you shouldn’t disturb the room. Like whoever had claimed it originally might still come back one day to curl up in that bed or sit down at that desk.

There are two more bedrooms – one with furniture made of a wood that is somehow remarkably the same shade as roasted butternut squash and the other with a luxurious, if slightly gothic, yellow velvet and dark walnut loveseat and red upholstered chairs in it that all beg to be read in – but both rooms very obviously are occupied. These must be the rooms that Max and Eddie claimed whenever it was that they arrived. The next door to the left of Max's room yields a large, airy bedroom decorated in all sorts of shades and textures of blue with dark wood furniture and soft pink silk and lace curtains over the windows. A painting of a smiling young woman hangs above the fireplace with two lamps in the shapes of cherubs holding the light source aloft. Two cream-colored chairs sit by a small table and two more blue velvet chairs flank another. You could have a whole party in this spick-and-span room without any effort whatsoever.

“This is the one, I see.” Antonio has returned. Lingering in the doorway as he watches you move from Knick knack to knick knack with an almost dreamy expression on your face. “Let me show you the call system.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that I am needed in court.”

A set of buttons by the door to what you very accidentally have apparently selected as your room will summon a member of the house's small staff, Mr. Colette tells you, and there is a similar button on a handle by your bed, almost like the call button for a nurse in the hospital. "Don't let me keep you," you murmur, waving off another apology from the man who has literally swept into your life and changed everything about it. The last thing you want is to stand in the way of anything he has to do. "I'll, um...I guess I'll unpack."

As if on a secret cue, the door to the elevator opens on the other side of the hall and an ornate rolling cart, much like the ones at the posh hotels, rolls out. Your trash bags are all neatly stacked with the few boxes and the one bag you had managed to take from your ex's house. The older, stately looking man pushing it does not judge, his sharp eyes looking for the room where the new owner has decided to take up residence so he can help in any way possible. Renee is behind him, a fully ladened tray on another rolling cart.

You can hear them rolling down the hallway before you see them, and Mr. Colette smiles in satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, looking toward the doorway as the source of the noise comes into view. “If you need anything, you have your staff here, and my number. Please don’t hesitate.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Colette.” As soon as you say his name he disappears from view, and you’re left face-to-face with the embarrassing sight of your trash bags in this gorgeous home.

“I took the liberty of moving your car into the carriage house.” Mr. Taylor tells you. In addition to being the caretaker, he also maintains all the vehicles here. Your car is in sore need of some TLC and he is already itching to get to it.

“That’s very kind of you. You really don’t have to go through any extra trouble.” The sight of garbage bags just feels wrong in a house this old and grand, and it just makes you feel like apologizing for that, too. “As you can see it…it really shouldn’t take me too long to get settled in.”

“It just means you can rest.” Renee offers with a smile as she rolls the tray over to the couches and table. “Here, ma’am?” She asks politely.

"Hopefully it won't take too long to find a new job." The offhanded and automatic thought doesn't even phase you, although you don't enjoy the fact that you'll have to explain why your last place let you go. At least you can assure them that it won't happen anymore – since Derek isn't in your life there won't be any erratic or unexpected phone calls to have to respond to immediately. "Thank you, Renee. It...it all looks wonderful." Laden with a steaming silver coffeepot and fresh pastries with butter, jam, and fruit, the delicate China on the tray looks like it has been laid for a queen.

“My pleasure, ma’am.” Mr. Taylor quietly excuses himself, and Renee turns towards the cart with an eagerness to begin. “Do you have some specific organization for your things?” She asks, hoping to know how you would like things. “Or shall I organize them for you?”

Even if you had specific organization, it would no longer apply to this house. The feeling that everything should be in a specific place and that rooms have specific functions is very different from how you were living before. "I'm sure you'll know just where things are supposed to go," you tell her, with a definite air of 'because I don't have any clue'.

“Yes ma’am.” She nods and immediately whirls around to start wheeling the cart into the dressing room just off to the side of the bathroom.

"Renee?" Following her just a few steps and sticking your head into the dressing room, you have to swallow yet another sigh over how beautiful this house is and how grand everything seems at first blush. You shake it away, though, when her head pops up expectantly. "I don't suppose I could ask any of you to call me by my name, could I? Mrs. Taylor seemed rather set on using a title..."

“It— it’s not done.” Renee admits with a bashful smile. “Although Mrs. Taylor did call Ms. Brown by her nickname at Ms. Brown’s insistence.”

"She had a nickname?" For some reason that intrigues you, even though she had an unusual name to begin with. You've never heard of a woman named Etienne before.

“Cookie.” Renee smiles fondly. “She went by Cookie for as long as she could remember.”

"That's very sweet." And actually makes you smile too, though you can't quite figure out why it warms you through the way it does.

“Do you have a nickname, ma’am?” She asks curiously. “I am sure that Mrs. Taylor would have no issue using a nickname for you.”

"I—" About to protest that you really don't, or at least that you can't think of one, a long-lost memory gets dredged up from the bottom of your mind that you haven't given any thought to in a long time. "I used to like being called Dolly. Quite a lot."

“Yes Ms. Dolly.” The nickname is no more unusual than ‘Cookie’ and the smile that thinking of your nickname is soft and real as it makes you light up.

"Thank you, Renee." It actually relaxes you measurably just to have a little bit less formality, and you offer the girl another genuine, if small, smile.

"My pleasure." She turns back to the bag that is opened and starts to carefully remove all of the clothes to sort and organize into piles before she can fold or hang them. "I should have all of this sorted in just an hour or so."

"Please don't feel like you need to rush. It isn't like I have anywhere to go." The fact that someone else is doing your laundry makes you more than a little embarrassed but you try to remember that it's literally her job. "But...again...thank you."

She doesn't bother to remind you that it's her job, just humming quietly as she continues to make note of what you have that needs pressing.

"Renee?" Even after you've walked away, you double back to look into the dressing room where she is sorting through the things you brought from Tennessee. "Was, this...um...was this Ms. Brown's room?"

"It was, Dolly." She stands up and moves towards the door. "Does that upset you?"

"I...don't really know," you admit after a moment of thinking about it. "I think it's more that...I don't want to disturb it? Like if she had a favourite chair, or painting, or lamp or something, then I wouldn't ever want to move it." Saying it out loud makes you sigh, and you huff a laugh at yourself. "That probably sounds silly."

Her own laugh is slightly ironic. "Please don't worry about that." She assures you. "Ms. Brown loved to rearrange her furniture based off of how she was feeling that week." She tells you. "It drove Mrs. Taylor up the wall, but she would almost insist on moving most of it herself. Even up until a few years ago."

"Wasn't she in her 90s?" You ask, surprised to hear anything so active about the old woman who had lived here.

"She was spry." Renee can sense that you are eager for information about the older lady that had lived in this house. "She did love to pull the chaise in front of the windows and read." She tells you. "Especially on rainy days where the storm raged outside. She would sit with a pot of tea or hot chocolate for hours."

"God, that sounds so relaxing." And in a house full of books, who could blame her? You can't even imagine actually having the time to read every book you saw in the house while you were walking around. " I might have to follow suit for a little while. Just...until I find a new job."

Renee frowns slightly and tilts her head. "A job?" She asks. "Are you someone who likes to keep busy?"

"I guess—" It hadn't occurred to you that you could just not have a job, and that makes you frown far deeper than Renee is at the moment. "I guess so? I didn't really think...I've just always had a job. I didn't really think I'd ever be able to not have one..."

"Perhaps you have something you enjoy doing?" She asks. "Forgive me for being so forward, but you have the means to do whatever you wish now, Dolly."

"I guess I haven't really given it a lot of thought." That makes you frown again, this one considerably more confused, and you shrug your shoulders. "I won't bother you anymore. Thank you, Renee." It's a heady thought to chew over while you eat your breakfast, but it's something that you're going to have to think about. What did you dream about when you used to dream of growing up? You can barely remember anymore.

She doesn't want to pry, so she nods again and turns back towards the dressing room again. It's obvious that you are kind of lost and her heart goes out to you. Hopefully being here will make the sadness in your eyes disappear.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #a mysterious inheritance

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER SIX

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 10TH 2016 NORWAY, 2100 HOURS

"You watch yourself, Riley.  Because the next bastard you work under ain't gonna be as forgiving of your attitude."

Was Walker's final biting comment as Simon stood in his office, towering over the other's desk with barely restrained frustration as his hands clench into fists.  He was being dismissed—a simple wave of the hand shooing off Simon's entire argument.  While normally, he was used to it, but when he knew that he was right—well—it was a different story.

He knew there was only so much he could do to defend you on your behalf.  He still had people to answer to, people whose opinions mattered more than his, and he knew that.  He could snap at every soldier who sent an unprofessional remark your way but, at the end of the day, if the captain did nothing about them—there was nothing Simon could do, either.

Your situation becomes much clearer over the course of the week as he starts to oversee drills and training.  You're struggling, that much is clear.  Your strength is lacking despite your rigid commitment to the job and although the torment from your peers spurs you on—your anger is explosive.  Fragile.  Prone to snapping, as the prick Captain who laughed when some Private tripped you would say.  Some humbling from the others would do you some good.

It's clear something happened before you went on leave; something that couldn't be so easily forgotten.  He swears he could recognize the signs trauma on anyone, nowadays, and perhaps the reason Simon was suddenly so hellbent on helping was because he saw himself in you.  

It took him ages to get back on his feet, after Roba—to fully dig himself out of the metaphorical and physical grave.  It took months to convince his handlers that he was fit to re-enlist to begin with, he couldn't imagine how it felt to be back on the field mere months after whatever happened to you—not that he knew what happened at all.  And yeah, maybe he was playing favorites.  Sue him.

He storms out of Walker's office without another word, and a few days later he's sitting at the bar; checking the time on his watch for what feels like the fifteenth time in twenty minutes.  

There's only one pub on the whole base.  It's relatively small compared to the ones he grew up with in Manchester; but the energy is the same.  Neon signs, grimy countertops, overpriced drinks and Slavic rock on the speakers—it feels almost adjacent to home.

Simon can't remember the last time he was stationed anywhere that was stable enough to have a bar, and he's sure the other soldiers around him probably think the same thing.  Still, it's early in the night, early enough that it's still relatively quiet so that you and him could speak in private. 

If you show up, that is.

He sits at the very end of the bar, away from other people as his eyes sweep the small, dark building.  He swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand, barely touched since he's sat down.  It isn't until the very second his watch ticks 2100 hours that the door opens again, and you step in.

It's different seeing you in civvies.  It gives Simon a glimpse of what you may be like outside the world of uniform camo and clipped professionalism—winter jacket swishing over a dark, fitted sweater and jeans as you shrug it off upon entering.  The bruises on your exposed collar have pretty much fully healed, Simon notes, as your gaze meets his from across the dimly lit room.  Your eyes flicker with an emotion he can't quite pinpoint before you cross the area to meet him, and Simon adjusts the jacket on his shoulders.

You slide in beside him with your brow furrowed before you talk in a low voice.  "What do you want?"

He smirks a little under his balaclava, smug with the fact that his little idea had worked—without the uniform, you were more open to talk without rank getting in the way.  "A conversation."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, you couldn't have done that out on the shooting range?"

He raises an eyebrow.  "Would you have talked?"

Your mouth opens and then shuts again, left without a response.  You seem to realize, in that moment, his intentions; getting you somewhere you felt safe speaking.  Without the watchful eye of your superiors looming over your shoulder and without the difference in rank to shut you down.

"Thought so," he says, leaning an arm on the bar as he studies your indignant expression.  "Legend has it you got into a fight here."

You huff, rolling your eyes as you sit back in your seat.  "Walker's been running his mouth, huh?"

"Affirmative," he replies.  "But somethin' tells me there's more to you than just insubordination."

A moment passes where you just look at him.  Then, your eyes narrow, "you've read my record."

The edge of his lip ticks up in a slight smile, "fantastic observation, Angel."

You scowl at the nickname, and he realizes he likes this—getting a rise out of you.  Picking your brain to see what makes you tick.  Seeing what buttons he can press to slowly break down your thick wall of discipline, revealing the person underneath.

"Just cut to the chase, will you?"  You lean in a little, impatient.  "Why am I here?  You do realize what this looks like, right?"

That gets a low chuckle out of him.  "It looks like a concerned Lieutenant and his rowdy subordinate havin' a discussion, love.  That's all."

You raise an eyebrow at him.  "Over drinks?" 

He hums.  "Over drinks."

"People are gonna talk, sir."

"People wouldn't dare to," he reasons.  "Not about me, and not about you—if you hear me out."

Your tone hardens, stubborn.  "I don't need your tutoring."

"'Course you don't," he lifts his mask up to sit on the bridge of his twisted nose.  “I’m just curious…”

Not once do your eyes wander to his exposed jaw as he raises his glass to his lips.  With his off hand, he gestures to other soldiers across the bar—part of your regiment and just a couple of the many giving you trouble.  Your eyes flicker to them as he talks over your shoulder. 

"Today; that cunt tripped you," he says quietly, gesturing to the drunk Private at the very end.  "Why'd you let 'em?"

He watches your eyes darken on the group of soldiers at the other side of the bar as he drinks, and your hand on the table tightens.  You don’t answer, not verbally, and he doesn’t press—watching each small shift in your expression.  You swallow thickly.

"I don't know," you answer.

He raises an eyebrow, curious.  You're strong—strong enough to win against someone in a fist fight, obviously—so why did you do it?

He wants to ask, wants to pry and figure you out just like another problem that needs solving, but he knows better.  So he doesn't. 

“They can torment you all they want but as long as they don’t throw the first punch; the fight’s always gonna be your fault.”  he tells you lowly, eyes narrowing at you as you chew on the inside of your cheek in thought.  He places a hand on your shoulder and you tense, eyes shifting back to him.

“So let them throw the first punch, Angel," he tells you, gaze darkening.  "But don't let it land."

His words hang in the air for a moment, your expression resolute.  He watches the gears turn in your head; watches you mull over his advice.  Watches you study him as deep as you can through the mask and the leather and the cocky bravado.

Then, finally, you ask: "why?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you so interested in my progress?"  You press, brushing his hand away.  "I'm a complete stranger to you.  Never mind a lousy-ass soldier."

"You are far from lousy, Sergeant."

"But I'm not half of what I was, right now."

He hums in agreement.  Your question stirs something in him he can't quite explain.  He sees himself in you, obviously; sees the potential hidden behind anger and frustration.  Looking at your record tainted with bar fights and psych evaluations felt like looking in a mirror, in a lot of ways, and it struck something in him.  Something that drew him to you.

But, like most things, he shoves that feeling deep into the back of his mind, tacking his sudden interest in you to the simple fact that he knew you could be better with just a bit of encouragement.  Directing that anger of yours into work rather than a feud with your colleagues.  His mind wonders, for a moment, what you could've been like before whatever happened to you.  Were you just as fiery?  Less so?  More so?

"'Cause I've been there."

You raise an eyebrow at his answer, "been where?"

"Rock fuckin' bottom," he answers.  "There's nothin' else to do but dig your way back up, but it's damn hard to do so on your own…hm?"

For a moment, it looks as if you're about to argue—to deny his accusations.  He watches as you realize it's no use, that he's read your file and he watches you chew on your cheek as you glance away; ashamed, maybe.

Then, after a moment, you nod.

"Maybe…"  you sigh, rubbing the side of your neck sheepishly.  "Maybe I could use the extra help, yeah."

He hums.  Satisfied, he sits back again, dropping the subject for now now that you've agreed.  Instead, he picks up his glass and downs the rest of it before turning back to you.

"Good," he says.  "Now what can I get you to drink?"

@crazy-phan-girl13

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley

[masturbucky]

The Intruder

DARK!Winter Soldier x fem!reader

Summary: You had issues with sleeping for the past two weeks. You wake up every night and you swear you can feel someone's staring from the shadows, but there's no one, and you know it's your imagination. Sometimes you feel touches. When you're tired of your mind tricks, you start taking those sleeping pills. It's good for you, and for the man who watches your sleep every night, too. But you dont need to know that. You need to sleep.

WARNINGS: DARK REALLY DARK PLEASE BE AWARE(!!!), Smut, Somnophilia, NON-CONSENSUAL EVERYTHING, AGAIN IT'S A FUCKING RAPE, Obsessive behavior, unprotected p in v, WS basically romanticizes from his sick point what he does to you, no y/n, literally NO comfort, creampie, marking, a bit of knife play(he tears your shirt off and touches you with a knife a bit), a lot of mentions of death by WS, choke kink if you squint, dacryphilia if you squint, what else? ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE! Also I kinda forgot to post it when I finished it and so i remembered only like an hour ago, changed some stuff a bit, but grammar errors are still on the table yk. Also, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. I'M NOT YOUR DADDY I CAN'T TELL YOU SHIT, I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MINOR, IT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

You sigh, dropping your bag on the couch while slipping out of your shoes on the way to the kitchen. It's a living hell, you think.

Two fucking weeks you can't sleep. You wake up every night, a several times at least, with a fucking panic attack, or in a sleep paralysis, or whatever the fuck it is — you don't know, you don't care, you just want it to stop.

The thing is, you're going insane.

Every night the reason you wake up is this feeling of someone's eyes on you. Someone's staring at you, from the shadowed corner of your room, every night and it doesn't stop. At first you weren't brave enough to look. On the thrid night you said fuck it and turned the light on, looking around. No one, nothing, no trace of anyone's presence. The fuck you expected to see? The windows were closed, same goes to the door — you checked, three times and one more to be sure — and you were honestly confused and tired enough to get back to sleep. Only for the same thing to happen the following night. And the next one. And again, and again, and again.

You changed locks. Better safe than sorry, you know?

It didn't helped. You still feel watched every night.

Sometimes YOU SWEAR you could feel lingering touches on your body. Cold or warm.

Again, you're going insane.

You bought a fucking camera and installed it in your bedroom under the ceiling just to find your sleepy self and your scared to hell awake self, walking around and searching for the fucking intruder, on it in the morning.

You tried to invite your friends over for the night, but — what am I, a fucking joke? — they all laughed at you, when you told your story. Fuck them, really, you should consider searching for new friends.

You decided to go to the therapist your friend (the only one who, thankfully, didn't laughed with the rest, but still brushed you off) recommended you. The point is, you'll have to wait a month to get an appointment in their busy schedule. You ain't gonna wait so long, you need to sleep for fuck's sake.

That's being said, here you are. Reading an instruction list to Flurazepam, which is like a fucking blanket itself, and grinning like an idiot, excited. Fuck your brain really, fuck it's dumb imagination, fuck the imaginary intruder! You need your sleep and you'll get your sleep, thanks to medicine!

Tonight you eat, shower, read your evening book and get to bed happily, excited to finally get some sleep. Maybe you take a bit more Flurazepam than needed. Just in case, you know?

***

He entered your apartment the same way as always - it wasn't hard to steal your keys and make a copy. He's used to be unnoticed, they would've been disappointed if he was careless enough to let you know about his mere existence. So far, you're stupid enough not to look into details. Smart enough to try and change locks and install a camera, smart enough to show him that you're safe from everyone, but him.

He stops the recording of this damn camera before walking into your room. He solved this problem the first night you installed it. It's a nice kind of change, he must admit. Seeing you from different angle other than from cameras he installed before is nice, truly. Beautiful, clever and caring about his... needs, even without knowing about him. That's what makes you so divine.

Tonight... To be honest, he was waiting for this just as much as you. He was excited, even. For your sleep and his next move in your relationship, if he could call it that.

He takes his mask and glasses off, walking closer to your bed, to your sleeping, relaxed. Asleep, more calm than usual. Just like the first night. Your breath is soft, heartrate is slow, the pills you took obviously worked. You probably took a bit more than you should have, his dumb little thing you are.

He doesn't know how it all happened, to be honest.

What he knows is, he needs you. Badly. All the time, day and night, needs to see your beauty and he needs to be close to something as perfect as you. He thought they wiped everything that could've been even close to what he feels towards you, but apparently they only made it worse.

More likely they know where he disappears every night to. They know everything, and he noticed how much easier it became to sneak out. And if they know and let it be, then he's allowed to have this. Which probably gives them even more power over him.

But he doesn't care. As long as he can see his angel, as long as he can touch something as perfect as you are, he doesn't give a fuck about what else Hydra would make him do. Consider it done. Consider it dead.

He takes his gloves off, kneeling down beside your bed. Slides your blanket off your body, and takes a deep breath. You're in your usual clothes of choice — this tempting shirt, which he often can see your nipples through, which he allows himself to touch sometimes even, and a comfy pair of underwear. He doesn't know what other men usually consider sexy, but for him it is whatever you wear. Especially this pair of panties.

Brings his hand to your thigh, more confidently than usual strokes the smooth skin up, touching the soft material of your underwear and sliding under the warmth of your shirt, to your belly. He doesn't need to be careful now. You won't wake up anyway, you're too deep in your slumber, thanks to those pills.

He almost groans only at the feeling of your soft, warm skin under his fingertips. It's not often when he touches you UNDER your clothes. Too much of a risk, he never intended to wake you up. It would mean a too big step, he doesn't need you to put up a fight and resist too much. If so, he would have to hurt you. And take you away. He's not ready to do that just yet.

But now? Now he can at least do that much without rushing things into it's natural ending. He could have you now, he could taste you now, and then he would prepare to take you somewhere where he would do that as often as possible. He just has to be patient.

For now he could just leave you a message of who you belong to. A promise, of sorts.

The bed cracked under his weight loudly, thanks god you're so deep in your sleep, and the blade shines in the moonlight, so does the hand, the whole arm. Soldier knows that what he's about to do will break you. But a broken angel is still an angel, a fallen one is not.

However, he's very clear with his messages.

Your shirt goes first. The material breaks easily on a sharp knife, he uses it to kill after all, and he's devouring every second of it. He prays that it wont be possible to erase from his mind, just like it was with you, with his angel.

"Beautiful," He breathes out, his voice hoarse and his throat hurts. He hasn't talked in quite some time.

Your shirt is no longer on his way. And oh god, seeing your chest again makes him believe in heaven, whatever this is. When you'll be his, you won't be wearing any clothes at all. It will be his personal heaven.

"So beautiful..." He lowers the knife to your chest, tracing soft skin, nipples with the backside of it. He could so easily switch the side, he could leave a permanent mark on you, a reminder of your first night as his, but he wont. Not now, at least.

Then he lowers the blade to your underwear. Two simple cuts on either sides - and it's just as dysfunctional as the shirt. But he doesn't think you'll need them anyway, now. He might as well just... Take them, as a little reminder for himself? A promise.

He lifts your pretty legs up, resting them on his shoulders when he settles in between, and slides the thorn material from under you with his flesh arm. He wants to feel this. He wants to savor every touch.

Your panties are left in the pocket of his pants, and he returns his full attention to you. Only if you knew how beautiful you are right now, naked for him, ready for him. He would show you, one day. When you would be conscious and used to him, his presence, his touches. For now, this will do.

The knife is back in it's holder, and he lowers to your warm body. Hands slide up your waist to your tits, and the left one to your neck. Metal fingers trace the warm, delicate skin, pressing ever so slightly. The only time he really focuses on how much pressure he adds. Looks just perfect on you.

He can't wait anymore.

Right hand slides off your body to lower his pants, just enough to free his almost uncomfortable erection. He was so mesmerized by your beauty that he completely forgot about himself.

Leans back slightly, once again admiring the view. His angel, so perfect and peaceful, in her sleep. Your calm face, delicate neck, chest, your belly, legs and, a fucking paradise, your pussy. He can't see much, but he knows its perfect. He had seen it, many times, on the cameras. He also knows what you play with, and where you hide it. Lower drawer of your nightstand.

Soldat leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck, tasting your skin. It's his time to enjoy, his moment to savor, so he slides his hand down to your exposed to him — only him — heat. You're wet, just a bit. Enough for him, at least. Touching you is a privilege already.

Your legs are pushed up, over his thighs. He doesn't know if he wants to hurry up or take his time, it feels like he needs both. Contradictions became natural to him since he found you.

A deep breath. He lined himself up with your entrance, stroking himself slowly, just a bit. Smearing his precum over your clit and soft folds, enjoying the moment. It's so strange to be so overwhelmed. So excited. You make him feel things he didn't knew he was able to feel, and you have no clue. You will, eventually.

He pushes in slowly, groaning and almost cumming right away, holding himself back and biting on your neck. He takes a second to remind himself about how to breathe. Unbelievable. You feel like death. The best feeling ever, the only good feeling.

When he's fully in, he thinks that calling it a heaven would've been an understatement. Your insides around him are so much more.

When he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, that's where he could've die happily.

You're so warm. So tight, squeezing his manhood just right. It's where he belonged, it's where he feels complete and forgiven. Your walls hug his dick perfectly, and he want's to stay in there until he fades away. And he wants more.

He's greedy when he starts moving. In and out, slowly at first, but getting faster — yes, he's greedy. He's guilty in more than greed, he doesn't care. With your pussy taking him so well, with your warm body under his hands, his lips, just under him — he doesn't care. It's all his, you're his.

Oh how he wants to hear more than those sweet whimpers from you.

He can imagine. His angel, you, under him, hands gripping on his arms, you'll be begging him for more and crying for him, clamping down on him so deliciously and needy. You'll be screaming — screaming the name he can't quite imagine, he can't remember, but he knows you'll be screaming it. One day.

He will take his time to praise you, to tell you how good you are for him, angel, taking all he can give, giving all you have. He will make sure you're shaking and breaking all over again on his cock, tears smeared all over your face and you're drooling with this fucked out look on your divine face-

Oh god, more. He needs more of you, he takes all he can take.

He will leave so much marks on your body, just like now, over your chest and your neck, while you'll be squeezing him inside and begging, begging for his seed-

He cums with a groan, slurred fuck left his lips, headboard of your bed cracks under his metal hand. Aftershock hit the Soldat hard. Right hand gripping on your hip, his breath is ragged and he barely remembers how to breath correctly — he knows this feeling well, but from the bad side. Now? It's euphoric. He doesn't want it to end, he wants to die right here and there, buried deep inside of your heat, with you taking his cum so well, his beautiful angel.

He opens his eyes after what feels like a blissful eternity, his gaze slowly focuses on you under him. He can hear your breath, hard and ragged, he can see a layer of sweat over your body. Small smile cracks on his face. Even in your sleep, you accepted him. You enjoyed it.

He doesn't want to pull out, but he does so anyway. He reminds himself that it's not the last time. He'll have enough chances to do it again with you, after all. He knows what to do. He knows how. He just needs to prepare it.

Soldat looks down, mesmerized by how his seed leaks out of you. There's so much, he has to resist the urge to push it back in. Or to lick it out.

You're so perfect, his beautiful angel. But he has to go.

On a second thought...

He reaches out to your nightstand, barely even looking up from your pretty cunt, still leaking with his cum. Grabs his mask and glasses. Puts both on quickly, then grabs the remote control of your camera from his pocket, and presses on.

After all, he should be very clear with his messages.

#x reader #dark fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut #dark!bucky x reader #non con #dark!winter soldier #dark!bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

[i-cant-sing]

Dabi would punch a kid who was rude to his kid on the playground

Of course 10000% Just because you refuse to be a menace to society like him and will literally be nice to every stranger that comes your way even if they tried to hurt you (because let's be honest, baby reader ain't getting hurt as long as Dabi is around), doesn't mean he's going to shy away from violence, because that is the only language most people understand.

Let's say a kid has been bullying you, and you're such a sweet thing that you didn't even know what "bullying" was, or why that kid was being mean to you, so you never bothered to complain to your father. But then the day you return from school with a small but slightly deep gash on your forehead, Dabi is CONCERNED.

"Baby? Are you okay? What happened?" Dabi asks, picking you up to inspect the gash.

You gave him a toothy grin as he lifted you up, before pecking his nose when he pulled you closer. "Yeah! I fell off the swing!"

"Fell of the swing?"

You nodded, playing with the loose staple on his cheek. "Mmmhmm. I was on the swing and then my friend came and he pushed me too hard and I went flying!"

"And then you hit your head?"

You shook your head. "No, no! I landed on my feet the first time. But then I got back on the swing and he pushed me hard again but I didn't fly this time, I just fell! Then he laughed, and I laughed. Silly me, daddy!"

Pushed two times? Dabi never really believed in coincidences but he didn't wanna beef with some kid until he's sure.

So the next time you go to school/park, Dabi comes along. And when he spots the boy who "pushed you accidentally", he knew instantly the kid was a bully who had no good intentions for you. The moment the kid tried to push you off, Dabi immeadiately caught the swing (and you along with it).

"Y/n? Sweetie, will you go and get the water bottle from bench over there? Good girl." He watched you skip along and just when you were out of earshot, Dabi gave the meanest glare to the bully as he crouched down to his level, holding his arms so he couldn't run away.

"Now, listen here you little shit. That girl is my daughter, and I know what you've been trying to do. Now since I have never introduced myself before, I'm going to be lenient with you." Dabi's hands began to warm up, not enough to burn but enough to cause severe discomfort and make the threat clear. "If you ever hurt Y/n again, if you even think about it, I will know. If you hurt her, I will hurt you more. If she cries, I will make sure you cry harder. If she even has a pebble in her shoe, I will stone you to death. If she's in pain, I promise you- you will fucking regret it. I don't give a single shit if you tell on me- I will hurt everyone you care about too. Do you understand?" The boy with tears in his eyes nodded shakily.

Dabi looked over his shoulder to where you were and saw you struggling to hold the 1L water bottle. Honestly, you looked so cute with your little face puffed up as you used all your might to carry the bottle that was almost your size.

So cute.

He looked back at the kid who was trying to escape Dabi's death grip, but he only patted him on the shoulders before a manic grin appeared on his face.

"Now, its good that we've made things clear. However, you still pushed my daughter and she's got a scar on her forehead. Will it heal? I don't know, but I do know that I need to return the favour. So, hold still. This won't hurt... much? I don't know I've never done this before."

And with that, Dabi singed off the bully's eyebrows, the boy yelping in fear more than in pain.

"An eye for an eye, kid. Remember what I said." Dabi said before turning around and walking to help you.

Natsuo is both in shock and also laughing his ass off once he heard about Dabi burning off a kid's eyebrows off.

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines