#;;musing: the man in black (william)

[blueberryarchive]

The One Were Jungkook;

more slasher!jk

𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨; slasher, 80s, psychological horror

𝙩𝙬; heavy non-con, somnophilia, horror, violence, blood

(thank you to @hoseokshobagi for helping me with this big mess, I love u, shut up)

NY, 1985

The little ol' Brew House wasn't like the bar you went to with Jimin. It was so small that you could feel the sweat running down your back, the ghost of a hand or a glance behind you with every step. There was a sour smell of old, dried beer on the rustic green furniture and freshly disinfected vomit in the corner where Jungkook motioned for you to sit.

"Sit down, don't move."

You climbed onto the cracked brown leather stool, your bare thighs sticking to it like Velcro. A band was playing Iron Man on the other side and it was so uncoordinated that it matched the people sitting there: middle-aged men in blue-collar jobs, women in black leather skirts and foreign students with little money, underworld poets and their upper class girlfriends living the fantasy of muses sitting one their boyfriend's thighs while they discussed Bob Dylan and Williams Burroughs. A green and brown amalgam of sweaty skin drinking warm beer and watered down whiskey.

You couldn't help but compare both places.

Sweaty Joe's was a bar just two corners from the university, it was bathed in colored lights and posters as old as the owners of the place themselves. Red leather sofas were distributed in the corners and those, for years, have belonged to the Maroon Knights players.

This is where you met Jimin, it was your first week and you and Bobby Joe decided to have a beer, you two were new, smiled candidly at each gentleman who offered you another drink. You had never done that in the small town where you came from.

Jimin was celebrating his first winter tournament, his crimson cheekbones and his elegant smile conquered your heart, he let you sleep in his room in the trailer where he lived with his four brothers. His hands never took yours without first asking you, never looked away. You fell asleep so quickly in that bed while the little snores of the quaterback kept you stable, safe.

At dawn, you couldn't even see his face, you spent a week avoiding the hallways where he frequented until you did what your mother did to apologize to people: you baked some cookies. Unfortunately, he was on a diet but he still accepted them, his younger brother would eat them all with pleasure, you offered him a kiss and he let himself go.

That afternoon you lost your virginity behind his secong-hand orange Pontiac, white cotton panties crumpled and drooled between your teeth as Jimin held your calves. You cried so much that he forgot to moan, but your boyfriend wiped away each tear with his wet tongue and his thumbs until his cum fell thickly onto your skirt and his uniform.

The second time was different. What you don't know is that you cooking for him lit a spark, a simple breeze in a dry forest and you were the summer sun. You were going to be his wife, he promised you, with drooping eyelids and your pelvis on top of a pillow, his hands guiding your ass until they collided with his waist.

“I'm going to make you mine, I'm going to buy you a house and a huge ring. Fuck—you’re going to have to stop me at some point because I’m going to get you pregnant every time you smile at me, love. Doesn't Ms. Park have a ring to it?" He growled grabbing your hair to pull you closer to his sweaty chest.

“What is that pretty head of yours thinking about, huh?” Jungkook snapped his fingers at you, placing a long mug of beer in front of you. The second cigarette of the afternoon dangled between his fingers as he waited for you to take a drink, his eyes darting from your chest to your hair. “I saw you look at the ring on your finger.”

“My boyfriend gave it to me a month ago.” You said fixing the thin silver ring, a promise desperate to be fulfilled.

“How very” The boy laughed, choking on the smoke, you held the beer and took a long drink.

You realized that men when they exist in a cloud of promises and anonymity are more fuckable, because now seeing the metalhead in front of you, you just wanted to hit him.

“I don't understand why you keep yapping when you're not here to hear me speak.”

“I didn't want us to move on to fucking so quickly, but if you can't wait, then we'll make a little something in the alley.” Seeing your face blush he laughed again. “I'm kidding, doll. Don’t be so rigid.”

With a whistle, Jeon effortlessly caught the eye of a man nearby. His muscles were noticeably defined, and he sported a pair of square glasses that added a touch of charm. Dressed in a casual plaid shirt, his hair styled like a military man. Spotting Jeon, his face lit up with recognition, and he quickly closed the distance between you.

“Kim, I thought you weren't coming to the meeting.” Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the man's slight tensing as his friend spoke, but without skipping a beat, his hand gently landed on his friend's shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"You literally said-"

"No, I didn't. Gosh, give me a break."

Hoseok looked in your direction with a hint of distrust, the creases on his face sharpening with each step you took. You walked closer, his eyes traced your body from head to toe, his initial skepticism fading away the moment he reached your side. Your little shorts and Wham! t-shirt hugged your curves tightly, clinging to your tits like a sculpture of marble.

"What's this?" Hoseok pointed at you and moved his fingers up and down.

"Come, I want to introduce you to my friend. We met in…" Jungkook's smile widened as he tilted his hand. “Well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you have to make a place for her in the club, wouldn't you gladly have one of the sweetest pieces of meat of the whole faculty on the team, eh?”

Jungkook looked in your direction again, he knew that the way he spoke caused tremendous disgust in you and he enjoyed it. “This is Hoseok, the president of the archery club. Greet him before he hates you for some reason.”

"Shut up." Hoseok's voice cut through the air as he extended his arm to shake yours, his calloused hand brushing against your skin. His sharp eyes studied your hands intently, examining every detail. "You got weird fingers."

"Is that how you give compliments to pretty girls?"

Hoseok let out a sigh, nonchalantly plucking the cigarette from Jungkook's mouth. With a subtle gesture, he motioned for his friend to approach while bringing the cigarette to his own lips.

“If you want to fuck one of the cheerleaders, find another way, I'm not going to put her in the club, dude.” His failed attempt at whispering, which was clearly intentional, didn't escape your ears.

“Do you think I have to fuck one of you to be part of your Disney Heroe theatre team?”

Hoseok's eyebrow arched, while leaning back against the bar stool. With a confident yet subtle sway, he adjusted his posture, his pelvis shifting ever so slightly, but still managing to catch your eye. A mischievous grin formed on one side of his lips, knowing full well of the effect he had on you. “And why the hell are you looking for me if you don't need me, Barbie?"

"I'm here to let you know that I'll be waiting for you in the green area on Monday at 3, expecting you to hand me a bow and arrow," You declared, a sweet smile playing on your lips like a precious jewel shimmering beneath a cloak of innocence as you deftly snatched the cigarette from between his parted lips. "And I hope you show up with a smile that could outshine the sun and a more decent cologne."

Hoseok scoffed with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by your little rebel talk as you took a drag from his stolen cigarette.

"You do realize you'll be the only woman in the group, right? The guys ain't going to like you, they tend to be very…"

"Terrified of women," Jeon chimed in, leaning against your shoulder.

"Exclusive," Hoseok added.

"They'll probably do a jerk-off circle if they see me in a skirt." You quipped, a sly smile playing on your lips.

The three of you looked at the cubicle where the a few memebers sat, all upper class kids who couldn't get into anything in their lives without Mommy opening the door for them first.

“Whatever, you're not even that hot, they'll live.”

You smiled, turning around on your stool to continue drinking your beer. “See you on Monday, four eyes.”

“Bye, Hobi-Bobby.” Jungkook rested his arm on the bar, his eyes positioned on your profile.

“Do you want to fuck now? I love women who know how to silence men, i'm already hard.”

"Why are you so fucking disgusting?"

"You're the one sitting next to me, you can go now." And he waited. You stayed there, speechless and waiting, too.

"Kim?"

"Who?"

“The dickhead called you Kim.”

“I don't know who that is, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You nodded. You weren't too sure now. “Are you sure you're the one I talked to that night?”

"I promise you." Jungkook dragged his stool closer to your ear, the smell of nicotine and shaving cream was pleasant, manly. "Are those sugar tits as sweet as that voice of yours?"

“What time did I call you?” You ignored his nutty breath.

“Are you questioning me now?”

"Yeah."

His jaw tensed, biting the inside of his cheeks.

“I'm going to give you some advice, doll. If you want things to go well today, don't question me.”

You felt a rush cover your back, the beer felt colder on your fingers and you were more aware of his proximity. You were in his territory, you didn't know anyone there, you were screwed.

“Can you answer me just one thing and that's it?”

Jungkook moved closer and nodded, his pupils stabbing at your lips waiting for you to say something out of line so he would have an excuse to destroy you with.

“Why do people think you are weird?”

His sigh collided with your neck, a smile woven little by little; you could see stars in his eyes when he moved back. The raw desire to show you why.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered slowly, the urge to laugh drowned out by his words. Both his hands hiding his lips like a child. You swallowed as you finished listening, a long drink to finish the remaining beer.

He pulled out a new cigarette before your eyes met his again.

“So, in your room or mine?” He mumbled before lightning the tip.

“I'm- I think I'm going home.”

"Isn't your home in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, you silly little bun'?"

The man in front of you pouted, nodding with a dejected face when he saw you stand up, the large mug of beer hitting your trembling anatomy. You wanted to vomit, to shed your own skin to pieces, to vanish, to crawl along the road back home like a mass of nerves and to sleep in your bed until you forgot what this psychopath had just hummed in your ear in the middle of the crowd.

But what did you expect? Wasn't this what you were looking for?

That's why curiosity ends up being the cruelest animal feeling. It takes you to the cheese on top of the trap, it makes you look at the sun and go blind, it makes you run through the grass until you fall at the bottom of nowhere. Voices like Jungkook's end up taking you to a seedy bar, at the mercy of God if he is even allowed in these parts.

“Come on, I'll take the bike down for you, then.”

You grabbed your backpack and walked in front of Jeon, stares like needles digging into your shorts.

Outside, his arms stretched out to take the bicycle, as light as a feather.

“I would've take you to college but-”

“I think this is where our journey ends, Jungkook.” Your voice was firm, elegant. You knew when to say goodbye.

He remained silent, one last smile as a gift. "If you say so." His hands opened dramatically to show you the road.

You raised your leg until you sat down and accelerated down the street, the sun hiding on the horizon. You didn't know if it was the wind hitting your cheeks and eyes, but you felt the cold stream go down to your neck. You wanted the road to get shorter in front of you and suddenly you were crying like a lost child, the sharp exhale stinging your lungs, you took all the alleys you recognized and the ones you didn't and you looked around at the desolate sides of New York.

Hiding from the sun your skin grew cold and the sobs turned to murmurs praying that you would return alive to the arms of Steph or Bobby Joe.

But oh, how angelic you looked with the halo of Jungkook's car headlights on your back. A honk chilled your blood until you couldn't do anything but grip the handlebars until your knuckles turned white.

“I changed my mind, I'll take you.” His breathing was jagged, he was sweating deeply, swallowing hard to hide the psychosis.

“It won't be long now and my boyfriend is waiting for me.”

“Don't worry, just load the bike and I'll drop you off at his house.”

'No' was not an answer and you knew that, no one ever said no to him. And if they did no woman managed to keep her tongue to say it.

"Roger that. Thank you, Jungkook, you are a gentleman.”

“Of course, get off the bike now.” He muttered as he snatched the iron from your hands and threw it behind his vehicle.

The trip was lethargic, the music faltered in the car with each curve until you reached a neighborhood of white houses and yellowish lights, the crickets chirped in the safe silence of a suburb. You thought about getting out when the car stopped and screaming until your lungs vomited.

But of course, when you arrived the garage door was open, the car slid across the smooth concrete without a sound.

“Do you mind if I look for a few things before I take you home?” His voice sounded so carefree that you almost believed you were going back to your dorm room. You shook your head as he went down to close the garage door, the darkness consuming your hope.

Your heart began to beat blood so fast that your hands began to try to open your door, Jungkook tilted his head at the noise until he saw your reflection in the side mirror.

"Why you do that? God, you’re so stupid.” Jungkook took your hair in his hands and without much effort dragged you out of the vehicle and onto the garage floor. His hand covered your mouth, his calloused and sweaty fingers undoing the button on your Levi's until they stuck to your ankles.

“It's only once, you have to reward me for the beer you had, you know?” His voice burned in your ear along with the beating of your heart, a light hum of your soul trying to get away from your dirty body.

“Mm-” You groaned as you felt the fabric of his jeans mold between your ass. Moving was in vain, fighting a mere fantasy.

“Just a quickie and then I'll drop you off, don't be so rigid.”

Your body was puppeteered to the living room with dim lights, curved and modern furniture that someone paid great attention to match with the upholstery and the carpet that decorated the floor.

And your body was thrown to the edge of the pink couch, the metal underneath the cloth digging into your stomach, your ass in the air as you felt cold hands remove your underwear. Why weren't you moving? Why did you let this happen to you? What was your mom doing right now? You thought of her chubby body moving around her room while organizing her dresses, folding the flowery pieces and tucking in it away in her closet. Peacefully humming gospel songs.

Warm spit fell onto your pussy and you closed your eyes, the last tear creating a shadow on the corrugated carpet as Jungkook slid his cock around the entrance to wet the entire area. The phone rang five, six, ten times next to you. Beep.

Hello, you are calling the sweet home of Bee, Dr. Kim and Taehyung. We are on vacation in Florida, but when we arrive we will take your message. Bye bye!

Who were the animated voices humming on the phone and why was Jungkook's voice there? You looked at the stranger loosening his grip on the sudden crackling laughter coming from the small speaker on the phone.

"Fuck." The now stranger mumbled, holding your neck with his forearm.

"You got the wrong kid, callgirl." And your eyes opened like a full moon, you looked at the closed windows of the room. “Taehyung, you have ten to hide.”

"Shit." Taehyung whimpered behind you pushing your body to the ground, instinctively you grabbed his leg causing his body to fall to the ground next to yours.

If you were going to die today, you wouldn't do it alone.

"Five, six…"

“What the fuck are you doing, you fucking whore?! I will die if he finds me.” His reddened face dragged trying to take your sudden weight and strength off of him. It was useless. Black Sabbath began to play above the house, reverberating, like thousands of wasps between the walls. “I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please. Let me go."

Taehyung's head reached the kitchen when a worn military boot stopped his movements. The muddy sole of the boot collided with Taehyung's head, making it bounce again and again and again against the wood of the kitchen. It was a hollow, wet sound, more forceful with each blow.

You leaned your body back until you collided with the sofa, your nails anchored in the carpet.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, ple-” Taehyung tried to speak until the boot took the last hit and his jaw hung from his mouth like a toy. His eyes looked back with mercy. Run, he shouted to you with his bleeding eyes, run until you die but run. A broomstick passed through his mouth until his body bounced once more. And then...

So still.

Drool was falling from the corners from having your mouth open for so long. Why didn't you run? Is it that the boot you were looking for so long? Was the cruelty of being curious true?

An excessively tall figure passed through the kitchen frame, avoiding Taehyung's lifeless body. Black was the first thing you saw: the dirty jeans, the leather jacket tied around his waist, the Motley Crue tank top pressing against his chest and shoulders. Sweat dripped from his mullet to his tattoos.

His face, soft and covered in red. His oval nose and thin lips, eyes like a dead deer. Metal surrounding the room like the choir of fallen angels.

It was him, it was Jungkook.

“Poor little thing.” He licked his lips as he held your chin so you were looking at him. “Look at you, so afraid of that fucking-” he growled under his breath, getting down to your level.

"Please don't kill me." You cried, the air was thick, like sulfur around him.

“I didn't promise you that in the call, baby. Did you forget already?"

His hands were delicate under your armpits until he lifted you up and took your body to the furniture sitting you on top of his wide thighs. Your body looking at the turned off television, the curved reflection showed the difference in size. You were a doll on top of that beast.

“Put your foot up.” He ordered as he grabbed your knee to help you put on your Levi's with the softness of a creature in feather hands. "Stop crying."

“I can't, I'm too scared, I want to go home.”

"Pity." Jungkook sighed, taking your underwear from his jeans, wet with some chemical. His tattooed fingers took the flimsy cotton to your nose. Bitter at first and then it burned in your lungs. “Don't try to fight it, it'll be worse for you, baby. Atta girl, just let go, inhale.” His voice was serious, unharmed, like an anesthetic just like the clorophorm. There was no harm in closing your eyes if you were in the great hands of a beast, a mammoth.

"I like you girls manageable, stupid." Was the last thing you heard, a smile grazing your neck.

Your body rose without permission, abrupt. The pain was immeasurable.

“Jimin, she's up!” You heard a small voice in the corner of a familiar room, the sheets rough and thick.

The silhouette of Jimin's younger brother ran to the kitchen. The other two brothers approached the door, their blond heads peeking out. Jimin pushed them until he reached you.

“Hyung-”

“Shut the door, JP. I’m sick of you, just eat your fucking breakfast and get out of the house.” Jimin shouted, looking at his brothers out of the corner of his eye.

The slow footsteps receded and Jimin turned his attention to you.

“Love, no, don't cry. I'm here.”

His name fell from your lips desperately as you squeezed his face, consuming every detail so your body knew it was real and wouldn't squirm like a worm.

“Breathe with me, come on.”

You closed your eyes hugging your boyfriend's neck.

“Come on, I've prepared a hot bath for you in the twins' room.” You shook your head frantically without breaking away. “It's just to get the mud off your body, then we'll go back to bed.”

"Mud?"

“Minjun found you outside this morning, do you know where you were last night, who did this to you?”

You grabbed the sheets and uncovered your body, bruises covering your legs and stomach. The dried mud covering the sheets of Jimin's bed. A scream choked in your throat.

“Its okay, I can change the sheets. Don’t worry about that. Let's go champ, up.” Jimin patted your injured thigh so you would chain your legs around his abdomen. With a grunt, Jimin lifted you up and carried you to a makeshift tub of hot water.

The little beds were together on one side of the small room, a metal tub emanating sweet steam covering the walls of the room in a thin web of drops.

“Raise your arms.” Jimin kissed your neck gently, the nausea returning little by little but you just let your body melt in the arms of the only person who mattered. His eyes shone with the concern of a father, he undressed you as quickly as possible so that the bruises didn't have time to hurt. Reaching your shorts, he knelt in front of you and stared at your tired face.

“I shouldn't have gone to the bar last night.” He wavered his speech for a second as he slowly lowered the zipper.

“Shh.” Your hand fell into his messy hair, he was still wearing his pajamas, what time did Jungkook throw you in front of Jimin's trailer?

The silence became strange, different. You didn't understand Jimin's sudden furrowed eyebrows when he took off your Levi's.

“Minnie?”

“Motherf-” Jimin stood up and hit the wall hard. His body turned around until he was looking at the jeans on the floor again. “That's it, I'm calling Yoongi.”

"What? Yoongi, what for? Minnie, don't leave, please."

"Don't move!"

Your boyfriend disappeared from the room before you asked him what was happening. You sighed with a heavy heart as you walked in pain to the mirror on the wall: a wide, slimy stain extended from front to back of your panties, hickies covered your stomach. The pants fell to the floor and you went to the mirror on the wall.

Your trembling finger curved until you felt the hole between your legs, the whitish and salty cum thread stretched from your entrance to your shocked face.

You don't remember Taehyung penetrating you. Was Jungkook such an animal that he came inside while you were passed out? How could he?

Tears gathered in your eyes as you laughed silently, the pain was unbearable around your waist and legs, pussy still numb and you could only remember the patterns on the carpet.

Cruel curiosity.

[sadesluvr]

Black Christmas - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

Mike’s job as a park ranger becomes interesting when a mysterious couple stay five nights in a winter lodge.

A/N: HOLY FUCK. This is my longest and most tiring fic in a while (for all the right reasons) and I’m really excited to share it with you! It was loosely inspired by the req and work by @dilfbabie (HERE) but this has a festive, darker spin. This is for the people who voted for a Steve/William aligned reader, and is porn with plot. Further details in the tags, but this is reminiscent of a Jordan Peele film (aka the best kind of film), so dark themes lie ahead. I really hope you all enjoy it, consider it a Christmas gift ;)

Word count: 5.3K

Tags: SMUT (Porn with plot) / Slow burn / Fem! Reader / Threesome / Brief mentions of abuse / Alcohol usage / Oral sex, male receiving / Fingering / Blowjobs / Voyeurism / Cowgirl (position) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Psychological manipulation / Deception / Dub-Con (if you squint) / Cheating --- MINORS DNI

MONDAY

Mike had grown to find that being a park ranger was far more amusing than working as mall security. He loved being surrounded by the natural world, and the relatively isolated nature of the job - outside of being with his colleagues - meant that he had time alone. Time to think.

It was even more enjoyable in the winter, specifically the Christmas period, where he revelled in the contrast of the bustle of the shopping district with the tranquil sightings of caribou and squirrels.

It was standard procedure for the rangers to meet the guests of the lodges they inhabited, simply as an act of trust building. Today was no different, except for the fact that he was standing at the door of one of the largest and lavish buildings in the resort, which only meant one thing…Snobby, rich inhabitants.

When you answered the door, your lips parted in a brief moment of shock, adjusting your relaxed posture so that you were upright. 

“Hi…” you said, an unplaced smile appearing on the corner of your lips. “Can I help you Officer…?”

“Mike,” he quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in the pamphlet, but I’m your designated ranger for this district. I’m here for your safety,”

You seemed somewhat confused at this, but also rather appreciative.

“Thanks…” you replied, absentmindedly fiddling with your necklace. “We— Uh, we haven’t looked at that much yet, actually…”

Mike nodded. You’d probably just moved in, likely more desperate for a shower and a nap than read pages of menial information. 

“My pager codes should be taped to the wall in the kitchen. Outside of patrols and emergencies — weather, rabid animals, that sort of thing — I’ll shouldn’t be in your hair,”

You cocked your head, seemingly interested in something about him. He was cute; boyish in contrast to his position that was usually reserved for those with blatant machismo. You wondered how he got it in the first place.

You nodded back, fingers lingering on the door as you swung it. “Oh, well that’s great, thank —“

“Babe? Who is that? You’re taking an awful while to — Oh, hello Officer…?”

Your interaction was interrupted by an older, taller man who emerged from the stairs behind you. He was dressed in an off-yellow utility suit - likely for skiing - in which a purple sweater peeked out from underneath. His hair was groomed and he wore large, slightly out of fashion glasses. He rested an arm above you, leaning it on the doorframe, and Mike squinted as he noticed that you’d shifted uncomfortably at the movement before trying to compose yourself.

He was lost in his thoughts, temporarily oblivious to the fact that the man was staring at him expectedly. 

“ — Mike, “ he stammered, giving the man his name.

“Your badge says Michael,” he replied, matter of factly.

“I prefer Mike,”

“Hm,” the man mused, the grumble seemingly coming from the depths of his chest. “That’s odd. Usually you guys are referred to by your last name…”

Mike wasn’t sure about you, but this mysterious man was definitely a rich asshole. They always assumed they knew everything. 

“It’s Schimdt — Michael Schmidt…but please, Mike is fine,” he replied, shifting his weight and pursing his lips. Strangely, the man’s blue eyes widened, and he cocked his head, softening his demeanour. Your gaze was fixed to the floor uncomfortably, and Mike could only decipher that you were embarrassed by the man’s insistence. The entire thing was borderline uncomfortable.

Yet, at that moment, he smiled.

“The name’s Steve,” he perked up, extending his hand for the smaller man to shake. He took it, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring, leading Mike to believe that he was some kind of businessman.

“Thank you, Mike,” continued sincerely, his voice noticeably soft. “Hopefully we’ll see you around then,”

Mike blinked and glanced at you. You were still, almost motionless, with Steve protectively hovering over you. He could tell he’d interrupted something.

“You too,” he replied, beginning to back away as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Happy holidays.”

TUESDAY 

During the ins and outs of his job, Mike had been trying to rack his brain, wondering if he’d ever come across this ‘Steve’ before, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just gotten the wrong person. Michael was a very common name, after all.

He wondered about you, though. You were certainly younger than him, and although he’d come across his share of problematic couples, there was something far more striking about you than the rest. Steve’s authoritarian presence, coupled with your seemingly shy, introverted own, was usually a cocktail that led to disaster. He wasn’t a cop, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on you, would it?

It seemed that the time would come quicker than expected. The next morning he’d received a ‘111’ message from your residence, and hadn’t wasted time in making his way up to see you.

Upon being let in, he quickly found out that you were alone, with Steve having run out for groceries. Apparently, you’d been hearing ‘rattling and shaking’ in the vents, and simply feared being home alone with the threat of a robbery looming over your head. He’d checked the vents, scoping the interior out for signs of damage or entry, quickly finding out that badger had made a home inside the walls, earning a good chuckle from the pair of you.

“I’m so embarrassed!” you’d gushed, and Mike had smiled slightly at your flustered demeanour. You were dressed rather nicely for an early morning, in a chic turtleneck, pants and a pair of Moon Boots. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that you either came from, or was in contact with a lot of money.

“No problem…” he chuckled, feeling the quiet instinct to pry. “So, Steve just left you here, even with the threat of an intruder?”

Your shoulders visibly dropped at the fact. 

“Pretty much…” you sighed, masking your nervous energy by removing a mug from the coffee machine, pouring some fixings into the liquid before taking a sip, exhaling deeply.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you sighed, and Mike stiffened at the way you were so sincere, eyes locked on his own as you seemingly read his mind. “You have a point, but I like that he doesn’t baby me. But it does scare the shit out of me, knowing that we’re basically in the wilderness. Anything could happen…!”

He nodded.

“Well, you’re more likely to be attacked by kids at Santa’s Grotto than a bear,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t worry…”

You smiled, gaze unwavering as you sipped the drink, admiring the rich taste on your tongue. It was as if you were a siren, beckoning him towards you with an indescribable aura. There was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say it.

Biting the bullet, he cleared his throat. 

“Hey — This may not be my place, but is everything okay? When he came down the other day I saw you tense up,” Mike finished, and you let out a low hum as you contemplated the implications of his statement.

“We’re having a few issues,” you said, rolling your eyes, apparently brushing the situation off. “We’d been arguing a lot back home, and he booked this trip so we could regroup and stuff. I’m grateful, and I might even love him – but it doesn’t make me any less paranoid. I never know how he’s feeling, y’know? He’s a bit off sometimes…”

‘Off’. 

That was certainly one way to put it, Mike thought.

“...Does he hurt you?”

“God no,” you insisted. “He’s just — Well, let’s just say that he’s not all that open about his past,”

Silence. 

Mike let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, musing on what you could’ve meant. He averted his gaze to glance around the cabin. It was rather lush, with floor to ceiling windows, marble countertops and rich oak accents; perhaps you were living beyond your means? Every item in his sight seemed relatively normal, blankets, keys, even a small Christmas tree with a few presents underneath. Still, it meant nothing. After all, nobody kept their secrets on display - no, those kinds of things were reserved for a bedroom…Or basement. Or the trunk of a car. Or in the psychological prison of the mind.

“…I should finish getting ready,” your voice interjected. “Thanks for the help, Mike,” you said sweetly, and he nodded before turning around and making his way to let himself out. As he placed a foot down the first step, something turned him around, and he was shocked to see that you weren’t far behind him. He hadn’t heard you follow him.

“By the way —“ he said, clearing his throat again. “I’m doing a patrol on Thursday, so I’ll be around…Just if you need to talk…”

He hoped he wasn’t being too forward.

You smiled, and this time Mike could see the emotion in your eyes.

“Good to know,”

WEDNESDAY 

One of the best things about the job were the treetop viewing platforms. It gave a 360 view of the resort, and Mike was able to see near and far with his pair of binoculars. It was certainly a task that Abby would’ve loved, if she were ever allowed to see him work.

On this particular morning, he was scoping out the usuals - people on the slopes, those taking photos, and the general assortment of vehicles that came in and out of the building. Still, he found himself looking westward toward the lodging you were living in. Call it paranoia, or call it doing his duty, he couldn’t pry himself from the familiar outline of the building.

All seemed normal, until he’d focused on the top window, the largest one of the house that sat behind a balcony. There was no sign of you on the outside, other than the table and chairs, but it was what was enclosed behind that glass that worried him.

Sure enough, you and Steve were there. He couldn’t make out from the resolution, but your face was pressed to the glass, with Steve behind you, clearly leaving little room for you to move. Mike felt his chest constrict, tongue swiping over his lips as he zoomed in, silently praying that you weren’t being hurt.

It turned out that hurt was the complete opposite of what you were undergoing. There you were; totally nude with Steve’s large arms around your throat, kissing your neck as he jerked, your body writhing about as he did. Mike knew all too well what you were doing, and it didn’t take long for the blood to rush from his cheeks to his cock, praying that his growing bulge wouldn’t be visible to anyone. 

Your eyes were half lidded as you scrambled to hold onto something, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what your moans sounded like. Were you a screamer or a whimperer? Judging by the way the older man was ravishing you, it seemed to be somewhere in between the two.

Swallowing, he lowered the binoculars, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what he’d just done. There was no ridding the image from his mind, certainly not when he’d taken in every crevice of your body. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets to try to suppress his base urges, storing the image securely for later.

THURSDAY 

Mike rubbed his eyes as he slid into the company car, ready to do his rounds. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. 

His grip remained firm on the steering wheel, carefully navigating the elevated roads. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the past day, and the last thing he needed was to skid off into the trees. It was funny that the winter wonderland around him couldn’t mask the fact it was in a place like this where his family’s life had been turned upside down — where his brother had been cruelly and callously taken…All under his watch.

Sometimes he couldn’t live with himself.

He was at the bottom of the final stretch of lodges when he noticed two figures trudging down the hill. Their arms were outstretched and faces scrunched - and Mike recognised you instantly. Steve was following after you whilst your arms were crossed, clearly having a temper tantrum of some kind. Squinting, he tried to make himself unnoticeable as he listened in.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to see her! I love kids!”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see her, it’s just — Well, it’s not that easy…”

“How could this be difficult? I’m your girlfriend. She’s your daughter. Someday we’ll have to cross paths, right? Unless I’m some silly fling to you…”

“You’re not, okay? You know I love you. It’s complicated - Vanessa, she’s a little volatile —“

“I wonder where she gets that from,”

Frowning, Mike came out of the car, slamming the door with force to alert the two of you. He crossed his arms around his chest, scatters of snow crunching under his boots as he made his way towards you.

“Is there a problem?” 

“Mike,” Steve said, any specific emotion unreadable in his voice. He looked the man up and down as if to intimidate, but Mike didn’t budge. “…What’re you doing here?”

“My job,” He said sternly, to which you smirked. His eyes darted between the two of you, and he cocked his head. “Is there an issue here, or?”

Steve cast you a frosty glare, to which you rolled your eyes. Shaking yourself off, you assumed a stricter posture before focusing your attention onto the smaller man in front of you.

“Mike —“ you said, matter of factly. “Be a dear and give me a ride to the leisure centre. I need a masseuse… I have a knot that just won’t go away,”

There was nothing but fury in Steve’s eyes as Mike nodded, stepping to the side to allow you to pass through to the vehicle. As he opened the passenger door for you, he could feel the older man’s stare, burning a hole in his neck and seeping out his insides. Shutting the door, he walked round to the other side of the car, jaw ticking and lips pulled into a straight line. He barely knew Steve, but what he did know was that he was an asshole.

The car ride was silent for all of two minutes when Mike perked up, clearing his throat whilst his eyes remained on the road. He’d only snuck occasional glances at your thighs, and even then he was unable to rid the image of you nude.

“…Who’s Vanessa?”

You scoffed, slumping back in your seat as you lay your head against the car window.

“So you did hear,” you chuckled defeatedly. “His daughter. He doesn’t want me to see her,”

“Oh,” was all Mike could say, and he decided to let you draw the emotion out of your body yourself.

“I hate when he does this!” You exclaimed, arms folded. “He makes me feel so dirty! Like, what the fuck is he saying? That I’m not good enough to meet her?!”

“I’m sure that’s not the case…” Mike said softly. “I mean, if it were down to me, I know I’d love for my daughter and girlfriend to hang out, especially during the holidays,”

The statement caused you to smile, and you shook your head defeatedly. 

“I’m shacking it up with her father during the best time of year…” you said incredulously, looking out onto the icy white paradise around you. “She probably hates me…”

The thought of a girl being without her father on Christmas was enough to make you sob, salty tears pricking your eyes and eventually running down your cheeks. Covering your mouth, you let out a little whimper that alerted Mike, his kind brown eyes briefly leaving the road to watch your face. He wasted no time in pulling over, making sure the car was locked in position before he placed an arm on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you break down even more. Before he knew it, you were crying on his shoulder, hiding your face in the fleece-like insides of his jacket. The man remained quiet, but rubbed your back, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together your relationship.

He was beginning to lose himself in your scent when you pulled away, eyes red and slightly watery. Your faces were close, and you stared at him in a way that both made him feel guilty and aroused, eyes wide but enigmatic. He followed your gaze to his lips, and he slowly parted his own to exhale, hyper aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Brushing your fingertips across his cheeks, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, your taste bittersweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. He certainly hoped Steve wasn’t close behind, as he didn’t let go, instead parting his lips to whisper your name as your tongues began to dance against the others’. His hands were all over your body, and he was fairly certain that your hand had made his way to his pelvis, threatening to brush his cock.

He cursed himself when he gasped at the motion, which had caused you to pull away. As if you’d been under a spell, you felt flushed, stuck between wanting to leave the car and staying with Michael.

“Thank you…” you whispered, glancing down before looking out of the windshield. The reception to the rest of the resort wasn’t far from here, and you decided you needed to clear your head. “You’re a great guy, Mike.”

FRIDAY

It had been twelve hours since you’d shared a kiss with Mike, and he was beginning to think he’d known you forever. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, even when they’d received a severe weather warning at midday. Needless to say, he was excited to ring your particular lodge…Just as long as Steve didn’t answer.

“Hey, it’s Mike…We’re expecting a snowstorm in a couple of hours and we’re instituting a 7PM curfew,”

“Shit…Really?” You’d said, somewhat muffled, and Mike could hear you biting down on the fingertips of your thumb. “ I didn’t hear anything about this — Steve’s down at the casino…”

“I’m sure word will get to him,” he insisted. “Stay safe —“

“Wait, Mike? C-Can you come over? I want to make sure everything’s reinforced…”

It was apparent that you and Mike both knew that the lodges, especially the ones you were living in, were more than secure. You’d smiled and let out an exasperated, somewhat overdramatic ‘Thanks’, and had clasped your hands in front of you, leisurely strolling around the building as he confirmed the obvious. You seemed more free, whimsical even, dressed in a deep red couture tracksuit, perfectly painted toes on display. Perhaps the kiss, and Steve’s absence, had brought out the real you.

He didn’t know he could have such an effect on someone. 

As he clicked off his flashlight, he smirked at you, to which you returned, and drummed his hand on the countertops.

“Is everything okay, Officer?” you lulled.

“A-Ok,” he hummed, watching as you walked closer towards him, a mischievous grin in your eye. He froze slightly when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his front, but found himself relaxing into your touch, his own hands finding your hips.

“We have the house to ourselves…” you purred, beginning to stroke the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. He was simply too cute. “…And the view is lovely. But the company’s better…”

He nodded, lost in the way you began to pepper kisses to his neck and breath gently into his ear, that he hadn’t realised that the snow was beginning to fall…and it wasn’t about to stop.

“Shit…” he said under his breath, ruining the mood as he scrambled for his radio. He should’ve been back to the base a while ago.

“This is Mike calling in. The storm came in earlier than expected. I’m holed in at Lodge 305 waiting it out,”

“Received,” the static said. “Keep us updated.”

You could barely contain your enthusiasm at the fact, and Mike chuckled as you excitedly raced to the wine cabinet. It was going to be an interesting few hours.

LATER 

“…Part of me hopes Steve never comes back,” you slurred, wine bottle in hand as you sprawled out on the king bed, your tracksuit top since stripped, leaving you in a vest. It was obvious to Mike that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, neither. 

Mike snickered.

“You’re still mad at him?”

“Yup,” you said, popping your ‘P’. “Asshole tried to propose to me at dinner yesterday. I said no,”

He was astonished that you said it so casually.

“Woah…”

“I know,” you grinned. “Wine?”

He looked up at you uncertainly. Not necessarily because it was wrong, but because he had no idea where the night would lead him if he took even as much as a sip. “I-I can’t, I’m on the job,”

“Just a little?” You whined. “For me?”

You watched him intently as he gave in, sipping the drink and holding it on his tongue. When he realised you were staring at him, you broke into a smile, edging closer to him on the bed.

“I love that you take your job so seriously,” you cheesed, running your finger down his arm.   “Was this a boyhood dream?”

“Far from it,”

“Hm,” you said curiously, cocking your head. You’d been trying to figure Mike out for a while now. “So what’s the goal?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just to see my sister happy, I guess,”

Your heart fluttered, and there was an incomparable sensation in your loins, biting up towards your stomach. Whether it was the alcohol, the heating, or something else - your body swelled, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, in that oh-so famously position in front of his face, arms entangled in his.  “I love that about you, Mike,”

“Love?”

“I wish all guys were like you,” was all you said, and you thrust yourself on top of him, his back flat against the mattress. He didn’t stop you; letting you take charge as you straddled his torso, pressing your breasts against his chest as his hands found your body. He was insatiable, greedy yet very needy, and found himself succumbing to your every whim. 

Mike let out a whimper as you rubbed yourself gently along his clothed cock, growing irritated at the layer of fabric between you two. You nipped at his ear and giggled, dancing your hands along his body before you reached his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze before you went back to teasing him with your hips.

“D’ya want me, Mike?” you purred. “Say the word and I’ll be yours…”

“Mmfh…” he grumbled, trying and failing to pull himself away from you, particularly as his hands found your hardening nipples, desperate to take one between his teeth. “What about Steve?” He said from below you. “I could get fired, I —“

Cupping his face in your hands, you stared him down, voice almost emotionless as you spoke.

“Mike, you may not know it, but when you’re rich, you can get away with anything…”

That was enough confirmation as he needed as he arched his back, angling himself up into your kiss. He was both surprised and aroused at how firm your grip was on him, legs quite literally locking him down below you. Your wanting mouth was wide as your chest heaved, grinning down at him as you slid your arm back, down his pants to touch his hardened cock. 

Mike shut his eyes and groaned as you tugged on him, expertly sliding your hips down his body, fixing yourself into position so that you were level his penis, your ass in his face.

“Touch me, Mike,” you slurred as you took him in your mouth, giddy as he pulled down your sweats a crack so that he could massage your ass, fingers lingering by your lacy underwear. His touch sent chills down your spine, prompting you to take him further, tongue flat against the underside of his organ. His index finger slipped into your crevice, stroking your walls before he slid a finger into your pussy, making you whimper. It had been so long since Mike had been touched - and had touched someone in such a way - that he wasn’t planning on letting go of the feeling any time soon.

Even if your boyfriend came in.

“Babe? I’m sorry, I got caught up in —“ 

“Steve!” You said sweetly, releasing Mike from your mouth with a ‘pop’. “How nice of you to join us!”

The wording struck Michael as odd, but he chalked it down to the thick layer of condescension in your voice. 

Steve stared right past you and towards Mike, narrowing his eyes. The younger man swallowed, wanting to push you off of him, but found himself drawn to the silent aura of the man, much more the way a bulge was visible in his pants also. 

“I can explain—“ he stammered, exasperated as you played with him in your hands, index finger and thumb squeezing the tip as your eyes darted between the two men. How were you so relaxed about this?

“No need to worry about it, Mike,” Steve said, his tone surprisingly sympathetic as he zipped down his own pants. “I don’t mind sharing her...In fact, I love showing my darling off,” he grinned, almost sadistically as he bared his teeth and dimples. Steve placed his larger, calloused hands on your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as he did. Mike felt somewhat betrayed by the way there was a glint of happiness in your eye; much more the way he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as you stroked the older man instead of him.

Once the pair of you pulled apart, his blue eyes were clouded with lust as he patted your cheek, thumb tracing your lips before he pulled away. You kissed the digit tentatively, chin in the air as you glanced down at Mike, silent, but smiling. 

Ironically, you were a healthy couple playing a twisted game, and you’d been in on it all along. 

Steve cleared his throat, loosening a button on his shirt as you span around, your own pelvis holding down Mike’s own. Mike should’ve despised the situation in its entirety, but the way his cock twitched was undeniable. It was as if this fucked up situation were unlocking something within him, and he didn’t know for how much longer he could hold it back.

“…I love the way men like you look at her and want nothing more than to fuck her brains out. Do you know what it feels like to win? To know that she’s yours?” Steve drawled, watching almost in admiration as you pulled off your sweats, sliding your underwear to the side as you lined up Mike’s cock with your entrance. 

“Of course you don’t,” he said condescendingly. “...Your life is about to be hell, Mike. You deserve something good…” The older man hissed, coincidentally aligning with the hiss from Mike’s own mouth who was too much in a state of ecstasy to register the comment. His precum was dribbling on your wet folds, and he longed for a bit of friction. 

You placed a hand on Mike’s chest, smiling down at him with the same expression he’d come to fall for in the first place, paired with your soft, unsuspecting voice. 

“Do you wanna fuck me, Mike? I bet you’d make me feel so good…”

“Y-Yeah..” he whimpered lowly, and he moaned as you sunk yourself onto his bare cock, gripping your body at the tight, wet pressure of your gummy walls. Steve hummed in amusement as he watched you begin to ride him; slowly at first, giving him enough leeway to insert himself into your mouth. 

He’d had you a million times before, but he never grew tired of the sensation. He gripped the back of your head as he moved your face up and down his shaft, groaning as he fucked your mouth in tandem.

“You’ve always been a maneater, haven’t you baby?” Steve cooed. “My little slut,” he spat, and Mike furrowed his brows, feeling his cock twitch in you at the statement. You were clearly just a few rich people with a perverted pastime, and he’d been taken as collateral. He’d probably feel disgusted in the morning, but as of right now he was in heaven.

You steadied yourself on Mike’s cock, pressing down a hand into his pelvis as Steve’s grip tightened on your face, greedy as one hand reached down to grope your breasts.

“Go on, Mike,” he chuckled arrogantly. “Give em a feel,”

You took Mike's hand in your own, throwing your head back at the sensation of being fondled and prodded by two men simultaneously. Steve’s cock was hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried into the fabric of his clothes, stray grey pubic hairs tickling your nose as he did. Mike’s dick was buried in you, and you were 99% sure you’d sheathed himself to the hilt. You hadn’t even needed to move your hips for that long, and Mike had begun to take agency as rock his hips up into your own, the skin-on-skin sounds borderline pornographic.

“Shit,” Mike whispered, feeling his stomach begin to knot up, and you gasped, talking around Steve’s cock that sent vibrations through the spectacled man’s lower half.

“Are you gonna cum, Mikey? You wanna fill this pussy up?” you teased, circling your hips uncontrollably, Mike’s penetrative thrusts becoming shallow but frequent. He groaned in response, and Steve chuckled, one hand your back so he stabilised you, making sure your lush lips were still attached to his shaft. Mike may have been getting the goods, but he owned you, and his pleasure came first. Even in a group of three. 

Feeling closer to your own orgasm, you slammed your hips down onto Mike, holding him in position as he came; desperately clutching the sheets as he spilled into you, mumbling to himself incoherently. Steve was gracious enough to pull himself from your mouth, a bridge of spit connecting you two as he did. Instinctively, you jerked him off, your warm hands sliding up and down effortlessly on his sloppy dick, still grinding your hips on Mike as he was beginning to come down from his high.

Steve came with a grumble, and it wasn’t long until you followed him after, grinning mischievously as fresh white trails of his seed painted your face. Glancing over at Mike - who looked totally spent - you ran your tongue along Steve’s pink shaft to clean him up, writhing as you stimulated Mike’s softening cock, producing a groan from the brunette. 

You were light headed as you fell back onto the sheets, smiling as Steve stroked your semi-nude body adoringly, lulling you off to sleep.

THE MORNING AFTER

Mike was awakened to a banging on the door, swearing under his breath as he contemplated how this looked. Sitting up, he scanned the room for a sign of you, or even Steve, but to no luck. 

He looked out of the window. The snowstorm was over.

Perhaps you’d just gone out for breakfast.

He hurried his clothes on, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to shake the hazy memories of the night before. He was just in time as an officer entered, worried as he saw his colleague enter with guns.

“W-What’s going on?” he asked, squinting. 

“We have a warrant for a visitor's arrest,” he drawled. “A Mr William Afton…?”

Mike frowned. The name wasn’t familiar.

The officer raised a brow, leaving the room once the coast was clear. As he did, Mike caught a glimpse of the poster in his back pocket, the face painfully recognisable. 

WANTED: Child abduction and murder.

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.

pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.2k

tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo

chapter warnings: smut, infidelity

Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.

"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"

"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"That's rich, coming from you."

William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.

"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.

"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.

"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.

"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

---

Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.

"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"

The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."

With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.

She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.

Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.

"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.

"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.

"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.

"What is this?" Kate asked.

"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."

Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."

Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.

A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.

"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.

Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.

Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.

"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"

That's when Kate fainted.

When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.

A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."

"Your what?" Kate asked.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.

"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."

"Oh? Might I try some?"

"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.

He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.

Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."

The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."

Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.

She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A bit," Kate admitted.

"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."

Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"

His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.

She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."

Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.

She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.

"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.

"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."

So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.

"I'm close," Kate moaned.

"Good girl."

He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.

It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.

"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.

---

When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.

"What was your favorite part?" He asked.

"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."

"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.

"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."

[morning-star-joy]

tarnished but so grand (Regency!Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Regency AU

Premise (by @dreamofpeppermints): tommy and maria lead a jovial existence in the countryside, but the appearance of tommy’s brother causes a stir in society with the dark rumors swirling around his reputation, some due to his standoffish demeanor and some due to the mysterious parentage of his rambunctious young ward miss williams

Warnings: Inferences to sexual tension/lust, forbidden relationship vibes, age gap (Joel early 50s, Reader late 20s)

A/N: Ty em for enabling my regency!Joel idea and giving me muse to write what was never supposed to be written (how dare you give me this brain rot ilysm)

Wordcount: 817

Mr. Miller was very much off-limits.

Nevermind the fact that the mysterious appearance of the man was followed by a cacophony of rumors at his heels—most of which revolved around the young woman who quite literally stayed on said heels.

No, it wasn’t the daunting whispers that surrounded the stoic gentleman—if he could ever be regarded as such, given his standoffish, abruptly gruff nature if anybody dared to approach him for fruitless conversation he wouldn’t bother contributing to—that made him unapproachable.

Nor was it even the questions of parentage of the girl in his care—an illegitimate daughter, perhaps? Mr. Miller had disappeared from the town for near-on twenty years, so to suddenly show up at his younger brother’s doorstep with a ward who had just recently come of age sowed many doubts of his reputation through the nosy neighbors of this small section of society that resided in the countryside.

None of these things, not even the man’s apparent lack of concern for court, were what branded Mr. Miller as being very, very unavailable.

What labeled him as being somebody you should stay far, far away from, was how he looked at you.

The first time you felt the heavy weight of Mr. Miller’s dark gaze was from across a crowded room.

To nobody’s surprise, the surly man had come into the habit of keeping himself as far away from the happenings of court as he could, holding up the wall from where he loitered at the edge of irritatingly extravagant rooms.

You were much of the same opinion as he—the only reason you attended these events was for the benefit of your younger sister and her closest friend, the two girls having just officially joined society, with stars in their eyes and high hopes of whirlwind romances that you were determined not to let them be swept away in.

Standing on the sidelines on the opposite side of the room, you felt the intensity of his eyes before you even saw them, eliciting a sensation of trembling unease that settled deep into your bones and rattled you completely.

And when you couldn’t resist any longer, giving up on ignoring whoever was staring at you so intently and lifting your gaze to meet their eyes—

Oh.

Your eyes met dark brown, a color so dark it was nearly black from this distance. It greatly suited his dour demeanor, enhancing the way you had caught mere glimpses of him scanning ballrooms with a severely furrowed brow, lips downturned in distaste at the frivolity of society.

But now those eyes were settled on you, watching you, completely picking you apart in a way that was not borderline scandalous, but still somehow entirely indecent.

It was a look that made your chest tighten, breath catching in your throat as you steadied your grip on the glass in your hand. 

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you should look away.

Best to play the ingénue; flutter your eyelashes and glance away to show submission, subsequently turning away his cold judgment and maybe finding the interest of another, suitable member of the court to distract you from how Mr. Miller made you feel from his eyes alone.

But that flare of a stubborn streak reared its ugly head inside of you, and you straightened, squaring your shoulders back as you met his gaze straight-on.

Your eyes didn’t waver, your own lips pulling down into the smallest of frowns as you refused to be the first to look away, not wanting to lose this battle that he had picked by staring at you so.

But he didn’t back down either. 

No, Mr. Miller simply raised the glass in his hand, taking a long sip from the dark wine before lowering it from his lips, giving you a glimpse of his tongue swiping along them to collect the last drops of the sweet drink—because you knew it was sweet, you had been drinking the same wine from your own glass and oh, no.

Heat like you had never felt before surged through you then, coursing in your veins and setting you ablaze, but you still refused to be the one to back down.

And so you witnessed that Mr. Miller’s deeply furrowed brow was not, in fact, permanently fixed on his face when he arched one of those dark eyebrows towards you and—

A trembling sigh escaped your lips as you suddenly felt that heat pool somewhere else; aching, throbbing, and you quickly looked away, eyes scanning the room for something, anything else to occupy your mind as you felt your heart hammer against your ribcage.

You knew then that what made Mr. Miller truly dangerous, what made him somebody that you would have to fight tooth and nail to stay away from, was how much you wanted him.

No, not even that.

It was how much he wanted you.

[book--brackets]

Note: Good Omens is by both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, it just doesn't fit in the character limit lol

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (2011)

The circus arrives without warning. No announcement precedes it, no paper notices plastered on lampposts and billboards. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

Within these nocturnal black-and-white-striped tents awaits an utterly unquie experience, a feast did the senses, where no one can be lost in a maze of clouds, meander through a lush garden muse of ice, stare in wonderment as the tattooed contortionist folds herself into a small glass box, and become deliciously tipsy from the scents of caramel and cinnamon that waft through the air.

Welcome to Le Cirque des Rêvez.

Beyond the smoke and mirrors, however, a fierce competition is under way—a contest between two young illusionists, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood to compete in a “game” to which they have been irrevocably bound by their mercurial masters. Unbeknownst to the players, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battles of imagination and will.

As the circus travels around the world, the feats of magic gain fantastical new heights with every stop. The game is well under way and the lives of all those involved—the eccentric circus owner, the elusive contortionist, the mystical fortune-teller, and a pair of red-haired twins born backstage among them—are swept up in a wake of spells and charms.

But when Celia discovers Marco is her adversary, they begin to think of the game not as a competition but as a wonderful collaboration. With no knowledge of how the game must end, they innocently tumble headfirst into love. A deep, passionate, and magical love that makes the light flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

Their masters still pull the strings, however, and this unforeseen occurrence forces them to intervene with dangerous consequences, leaving the lives of everyone from the performers to the patrons hanging in the balance.

The Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss (2007-present)

My name is Kvothe.   I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.   You may have heard of me.

So begins a tale unequaled in fantasy literature--the story of a hero told in his own voice. It is a tale of sorrow, a tale of survival, a tale of one man's search for meaning in his universe, and how that search, and the indomitable will that drove it, gave birth to a legend.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo (2015-2016)

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can’t pull it off alone. . . .

A convict with a thirst for revenge A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager A runaway with a privileged past A spy known as the Wraith A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes

Kaz’s crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don’t kill each other first.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman (2001)

Days before his release from prison, Shadow's wife, Laura, dies in a mysterious car crash. Numbly, he makes his way back home. On the plane, he encounters the enigmatic Mr Wednesday, who claims to be a refugee from a distant war, a former god and the king of America.

Together they embark on a profoundly strange journey across the heart of the USA, whilst all around them a storm of preternatural and epic proportions threatens to break.

Scary, gripping and deeply unsettling, American Gods takes a long, hard look into the soul of America. You'll be surprised by what - and who - it finds there...

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (2012-2015)

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . 

Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future. 

The Princess Bride by William Goldman (1973)

Westley ... handsome farm boy who risks death and much, much worse for the woman he loves; Inigo ... the Spanish swordsman who lives only to avenge his father's death; Fezzik ... the Turk, the gentlest giant ever to have uprooted a tree with his bare hands; Vizzini ... the evil Sicilian, with a mind so keen he's foiled by his own perfect logic; Prince Humperdinck ... the eviler ruler of Guilder, who has an equally insatiable thirst for war and the beauteous Buttercup; Count Rugen ... the evilest man of all, who thrives on the excruciating pain of others; Miracle Max ... the King's ex-Miracle Man, who can raise the dead (kind of); The Dread Pirate Roberts ... supreme looter and plunderer of the high seas; and, of course, Buttercup ... the princess bride, the most perfect, beautiful woman in the history of the world.

S. Morgenstern's timeless tale--discovered and wonderfully abridged by William Goldman--pits country against country, good against evil, love against hate. From the Cliffs of Insanity through the Fire Swamp and down into the Zoo of Death, this incredible journey and brilliant tale is peppered with strange beasties both monstrous and gentle, and memorable surprises both terrible and sublime.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl (1964)

Willy Wonka's famous chocolate factory is opening at last!

But only five lucky children will be allowed inside. And the winners are: Augustus Gloop, an enormously fat boy whose hobby is eating; Veruca Salt, a spoiled-rotten brat whose parents are wrapped around her little finger; Violet Beauregarde, a dim-witted gum-chewer with the fastest jaws around; Mike Teavee, a toy pistol-toting gangster-in-training who is obsessed with television; and Charlie Bucket, Our Hero, a boy who is honest and kind, brave and true, and good and ready for the wildest time of his life! 

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare (2010-2013)

Magic is dangerous--but love is more dangerous still. 

When sixteen-year-old Tessa Gray crosses the ocean to find her brother, her destination is England, the time is the reign of Queen Victoria, and something terrifying is waiting for her in London's Downworld, where vampires, warlocks and other supernatural folk stalk the gaslit streets. Only the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the world of demons, keep order amidst the chaos. 

Kidnapped by the mysterious Dark Sisters, members of a secret organization called The Pandemonium Club, Tessa soon learns that she herself is a Downworlder with a rare ability: the power to transform, at will, into another person. What's more, the Magister, the shadowy figure who runs the Club, will stop at nothing to claim Tessa's power for his own. 

Friendless and hunted, Tessa takes refuge with the Shadowhunters of the London Institute, who swear to find her brother if she will use her power to help them. She soon finds herself fascinated by--and torn between--two best friends: James, whose fragile beauty hides a deadly secret, and blue-eyed Will, whose caustic wit and volatile moods keep everyone in his life at arm's length . . . everyone, that is, but Tessa. As their search draws them deep into the heart of an arcane plot that threatens to destroy the Shadowhunters, Tessa realizes that she may need to choose between saving her brother and helping her new friends save the world. . . . and that love may be the most dangerous magic of all.

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (1990)

The world is preparing to come to an end according to the Divine Plan recorded in the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (recorded 1655). Meanwhile, a fussy angel and a fast-living demon have grown fond of living among the earth's mortals for many millennia and are not looking forward to the apocalypse. If Crowley and Aziraphale are going to stop it from happening, they must find and kill the Antichrist.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman (2002)

In Coraline's family's new flat there's a locked door. On the other side is a brick wall—until Coraline unlocks the door . . . and finds a passage to another flat in another house just like her own. Only different.

The food is better there. Books have pictures that writhe and crawl and shimmer. And there's another mother and father there who want Coraline to be their little girl. They want to change her and keep her with them. . . . Forever.

[lafemmemacabre]

My personal top albums of all time

If anyone who respects my music opinions is interested, IN NO ORDER because I can't choose between my babies. Also, warning, it's mostly gonna be albums from the 90s. Only the albums that are described as Gothic Rock, Darkwave (Neoclassical or not), Deathrock and Ethereal Wave are goth, the rest are some other flavor of dark alternative.

Aégis, by Theatre of Tragedy (1998)

Exquisite Gothic Rock, despite the band usually playing Metal, with themes of mostly Greco-Roman mythology with some other European folklore thrown in. The most angelic and soft soprano vocals delivered by Liv Kristine with baritone whispers delivered by Raymond. Ethereal yet complex atmospheres with soft guitars, strong bass, poetic lyrics in Shakespearean English.

Highlights: Cassandra, Venus, Poppæa, Bacchante.

Inferno, by Lacrimosa (1995)

Gothic Rock that flirts slightly with Metal in some tracks. This is when they made the jump from Neue Deutsche Todeskunst (basically late 80s/early 90s German Darkwave except it's a little weirder than most other Darkwave at the time) to more Rock-based styles of music, as well as the first album Anne Nurmi was featured in. Tilo's best studio vocal performance in my opinion. Beautiful lyrics about love, passion, devotion, and the end of the world, could only be written by a goth guy with a gift for poetry who just fell in deep love. Only iffy track is Copycat but even that one is still a classic among fans if only because of its high energy, and killer guitars, bass and percussion.

Highlights: Schakal, Vermächtnis der Sonne, No blind eyes can see, Kabinett der Sinne.

Passion's Price, by Diva Destruction (1999)

Diva Destruction's debut, from back when Darkwave was actually dark and dreary in sound. Songs about heartbreak, betrayal, abuse and love, in the band's most musically complex and hauntingly atmospheric album. A definite classic with nothing but great track after great track.

Highlights: The Broken Ones, Snake, Prey, Glare.

Selected Scenes from the End of the World, by London After Midnight (1992)

Some of the best Gothic Rock to have ever come out, in my opinion. Deep, rich, dark, mysterious, sensual, macabre, romantic (arguably too romantic even by 90s goth standards as the album apparently got criticized for being almost entirely love songs? Wtf). The song that introduced me to goth in February of 2007 is in this album and it's the reason why I never looked back.

Highlights: The Black Cat, Claire's Horrors, Sacrifice, Spider and the Fly.

Annwyn, beneath the Waves, by Faith and the Muse (1996)

Ethereal Wave royalty in maybe not their most iconic album, but definitely the one closest to my heart by them. Despite goth music being associated with darkness in the minds of most, this album is full of glittering light in the most poetic and heartfelt way possible. The vocals are soft and tender when they need to be, delivered by Monica Richards, or firm and epic when needed, as delivered by William Faith. The lyrical themes are full of Celtic folklore, love, hope, magic and a feeling of reclamation of nature and an ancestral past (but not in like, a white supremacist way, I promise).

Highlights: Annwyn, beneath the Waves, The Hand of Man, The Silver Circle, Rise and Forget.

Treasure, by Cocteau Twins (1984)

Walking a thin line between Ethereal Wave and Dreampop (as they're pioneers in both genres). Some tracks are darker than others, but they're all equally delightful, full of beauty and a dreamy gaze hovers over every single song, all of which contain some of the most heavenly vocals in the scene. One of Robert Smith's favorite albums (he also really liked Diva Destruction's debut!). If you're into more relaxing and atmospheric music, this might be your intro to goth.

Highlights: Beatrix, Persephone, Pandora (for Cindy), Lorelei.

Anthology, by Nosferatu (2006)

Legendary Gothic Rock band among those of us who enjoy a campier vampiric goth sound that takes itself too seriously, and deliciously so. Yes, I know I'm cheating by going with a compilation album, sue me. It's simply a collection of their best tracks and I honestly couldn't choose between all their actual albums, so there!

Highlights: Inside the Devil, Lucy is Red, Rise, Witching Hour.

Es reiten die Toten so schnell (or: The Vampyre Sucking at his Own Vein), by Sopor Aeternus & The Ensemble of Shadows (2003)

Probably the gothiest and most elite Neoclassical Darkwave out there. Deeply macabre, equally horrific and beautifully crafted, with expressive and dramatic vocals, themes of vampirism and death masking more human subjects such as social rejection (Anna Varney-Cantondea is a trans woman/transfeminine person who's battled suicidality and depression from a very young age), depression, gay/trans desire, and suicidality. It truly is a masterpiece of macabre and neoclassical goth.

Highlights: The Feast of Blood, Holy Water Moonlight, Baptisma, Dead Souls.

Blood Death Ivory, by Angelspit (2008)

Probably one of the few modern Industrial bands who have thoroughly kept the spirit of early Industrial alive, fashioned after greats such as Skinny Puppy and Die Form, especially in the 00s when the Industrial scene heavily turned to more superficial lyrics based on the aesthetics of cyberpunk art rather than its subversive content. The music is aggressive, simultaneously animalistic yet robotic with a touch of demonic, rarely ever without smartly phrased critiques of capitalism and consummerism. At this point in time the band was a duo between Amelia Arsenic/Destroyx and Zoog Von Rock. It's definitely some edgelord shit (affectionate), but by no means in a vapid, only-for-shock-value way.

Highlights: Skinny Little Bitch, Lust Worthy, Devilicious, Jugular.

Alles für dich, by Grausame Töchter (2012)

Some of the most dynamic, deliciously quirky, sexual, hyper and twisted Dark Electro bands currently making music. The lead vocalist and lyricist of the band, Aranea Peel, is a lesbian dominatrix, fetish model, trained ballet dancer, and lover of Weimar republic era artistry who absolutely imprints lots of dark flapper energy into the band's music and imagery. The lyrics are unabashedly perverted, kinky, sapphic and fucked up. Her singing is nothing short of chef's kiss worthy, always expressive and strange, but with pristine execution and technique.

Highlights: Tanz für dich, TABU, Therapie für dich, ICH DARF DAS!

The Astonishing Eyes of Evening, by Cinema Strange (2002)

KINGS of 00s Deathrock with touches of Dark Cabaret influences, as inescapable in the goth scene in the 00s as She Past Away and its many copycats are now, and for very good reason. Delightfully macabre, not the first to use ghostly androgynous vocals but certainly one of the bands who better utilize that style of vocals. Imo, this and their homonymous album are must-listens for people interested in the goth music scene in general, but especially those interested in Deathrock. Truly Halloween turned into an album.

Highlights: Tomb Lilies, Catacomb Kittens, 'Ere the Flowers Unfold, Legs and Tarpaulin.

Opheliac, by Emilie Autumn (2006)

Literally music for mentally unstable sapphic girls with a poet's soul and flare for both irony and intense earnest feeling. It's a very original combination of Synthpop, Punk Cabaret, and Neoclassical music, with influences of Industrial and Darkwave. It's all masterfully crafted by classically trained violinist, poet, writer, actress, and somewhat of a burlesque performer with a rich alto voice; Emilie Autumn. She wrote this album after suffering medical abuse at a mental hospital after a suicide attempt brought on by an abortion and emotionally abusive relationship. I'm not exaggerating when I say this album saved my life and also changed me as a person.

Highlights: Opheliac, Liar, The Art of Suicide, 306.

Of the Want Infinite, by Requiem in White (1995)

You don't often hear of bands combining Deathrock and Ethereal Wave as they're often perceived as the polar opposite ends of the spectrum of goth music; Deathrock being the goth subgenre closest in sound and idiosyncrasy to punk, and Ethereal Wave being one of the goth subgenres furthest from goth's punk roots. Add in an operatic soprano and you get... Some of THE best, most underrated goth bands of the 90s. Dramatic, ethereal, creepy, elegant, ghostly and complex, with incredible vocals. Truly a pity they only released one album and a couple of EPs.

Highlights: Everlasting Peace, Beneath the Leaves, My Shame, Acanthus.

Agony of the Undead Vampire Part II, by Two Witches (1992)

Truly another giant of vampiric Gothic Rock, absolute 90s legends and Finland's most iconic goth band. Themes of vampirism, occasionally anti-Christianity, sex, sensuality and kink abound. The vocals might put some people off, but it's definitely worth it.

Highlights: The Hungry Eyes, The Omen, Mircalla, We All Fall Down.

Mors Syphilitica, by Mors Syphilitica (1996)

Requiem in White may have disbanded after their first proper album, but two out of its three core band members, then spouses Lisa and Doc Hammer, went on to form pure Ethereal Wave act Mors Syphilitica right after and while it's generally less dark and spooky than its predecesor band, they're still a delight to the ears.

Highlights: The Woman Who Believed, Fell a Dance, The Vain Stroke, Below the Baleful Star.

Beyond the Veil, by Tristania (1999)

I've raved about this album so many times. Just... THE definitive Gothic Metal album to me. The lyrics, the choir of sopranos (aka all Vibeke Stene and her rich, sensual, dark, gorgeous voice), the perfect growling, the somber baritone vocals, the perfectly crafted guitar riffs (no guitar salad, all expressive and precisely timed), the exciting epic percussion, the piano, the violin solos, THE SYMPHONICS. Oh, my God. There's not one second wasted in the entire album, and I'm not being hyperbolic, I mean that. Truly the perfect Gothic Metal album.

Highlights: Beyond the Veil, Angina, Heretique, Opus Relinque.

Serpentine Gallery, by Switchblade Symphony (1995)

Tbh all of Switchblade Symphony's discography is fantastic, but their debut truly is a masterpiece. Creepy ragdoll vibes all over, great vocals, rich composition, poetic yet accessible lyrics. If you're into a more kindergoth vibe (Wednesday Addams, creepy dolls, child-like or even lolita-esque looks), this might be the band for you.

Highlights: Clown, Mine Eyes, Dollhouse, Bad Trash.

Vampyre Erotica, by Inkubus Sukkubus (1997)

The other band that introduced me to goth in 2007 and got me to never look back. Though the first song by them I ever listened to, Samhain, isn't from this album, this album is the one that truly got me hooked for life. Vampiric, sensual, decadent and dark. It has everything including really sweet vocals.

Highlights: Vampyre Erotica, Danse Vampyr, Hell-Fire, Heart of Lilith.

Link to a YouTube Playlist containing all the songs from all the albums above.

[turbulentscrawl]

Survivor's Health HCs

This a just something I made just musing over hcs about some of the survivor’s poor physical wellness. Also, this is just survivors, as most of the hunters are technically undead.

Norton

He’s physically fit and has put on a lot of weight since coming to the manor, but he’s still recovering from various vitamin and mineral deficiencies. Years of a poor-man’s diet will do that. The worst of his condition, however, is the black lung from his time in the mines. He frequently has trouble breathing, wheezes and coughs a lot, and is prone to bouts of dizziness. The manor’s healing rules prevents his black lung from progressing, but it’s also not getting any better. Additionally, his sleep patterns are erratic due to nightmares and mood swings.

Luca

He’s malnourished, both from his miserable time in prison and an unfortunate habit of forgetting to eat. Additionally, the electrical accident caused extensive damage to his nervous system, which has caused a myriad of issues, including memory problems, frequent migraines, a poor immune system, and an overall weak constitution.

Emil

He also has extensive nervous system damage from the shock therapy he received in the asylum, as well as several other issues resulting from the drugs he was constantly given. He suffers from memory loss, brittle bones, low blood pressure, and (despite Ada’s best efforts) a lot of chronic pain. He also suffers from night terrors and occasionally will be up for days on end.

Vera

She’s picked up several bad habits after learning the truth about her sister, which come-and-go sporadically. She suffers from nightmares and sometimes doesn’t sleep for days, occasionally feels nauseous and refuses food, and will even drink herself into a stupor when her mood is bad enough. She suffers from digestive issues because of these, along with her stress levels, and sometimes can’t keep food down when she does eat. Her throat bothers her a lot from frequent exposure to stomach acid, and her teeth have been in better shape.

Joker

He’s a grazer, as far as eating goes, and doesn’t tend to get all his vitamins and minerals as a result. His leg deformity was partially amputated to allow for his prosthetic, but he didn’t receive all the proper care after the surgery. He suffers from a lot of phantom pains in that leg now.

Anne

She isolates herself a lot, and tends to miss meals as a result. Because of this, she’s underweight. She also suffers from scoliosis and frequent back pain as a result of hunching over her toys for long hours.

Healthiest Survivors: William, Ganji, Alice, Martha, Eli

[sleepyfan-blog]

Clinic Day

Author’s Note: This is the next installment of Cedric's story - watch him struggle to integrate into the Husbandry AU. First. Previous. Next

Tagged: @the-pure-angel @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams

Warnings: misunderstandings

Summary: Cedric works in the Astartes run health care clinic in the town he’s found himself living in, on ancient Terra. 

In the handful of weeks that Cedric has spent on Ancient Terra, most of it has been spent in one of the eight Astartes bases in the large - for the time period's - city. As an apothecary in training, most of his days were spent working alongside older Apothecaries, learning whatever they were willing to teach him... And there was almost always a squad of Imperial Fists near wherever Cedric was working, for reasons that the young Black Templar hadn't questioned. They were the closest thing  he had to direct superiors and though they weren't Black Templars, his chapter had been founded by one of the Fists' First Captains, and their presence helped immensely.

He was curious as to why he hadn't seen any other Black Templars in the area. He'd seen Ultramarines - and several different of their successor chapters - as well as Imperial Fists - he'd spoke briefly with the Fist who'd been made Chapter Master (a stern and no-nonsense older brother who went by the name Mirros)... He'd seen plenty of Blood Angels - and members of their successor chapters (Including the perpetually unlucky Lamenters - poor, poor bastards), Salamanders, the occasional White Scar or Iron Hand... Cedric had patched up more than one pack of Space Wolves, or pod of Charcarodoons... He'd seen at least two or three of every first founded Loyalist chapter, as well as some of their most numerous successor chapters. But where were his fellow Black Templars? It was a question that had been starting to bother him rather persistently, though the young Apothecary wasn't exactly sure how to ask the question, nor to whom he should ask.

"Oi! Apothecary, are you going to continue to stare off into space, or are you going to help me?" A loud, irritated voice growled out in High Gothic, snapping Cedric out of his internal musings. 

Cedric dipped his head a little and responded to the growly Marine with a slightly apologetic "What have you come in for?" He was one of a half-dozen Astartes Apothecaries who were working at this medical clinic. It was available for both baseline human use as well as for any Astartes in need of help. Cedric was currently in medical scrubs - as the resources needed to make him a new suit of power armor were incredibly difficult to come by on Ancient Terra, and he had yet to gain the trust of the older brothers and cousins to earn any pieces of armor that might be handed down to hi-

Wait a fucking minute!

Cedric stared silently as he had finally registered the fact that the Marine in front of him, holding a small human child hostage was a fucking World Eater. 

The World Eater was a huge fucker too. Covered in jagged spikes and horns, likely fused to his armor. There were symbols of chaos carved into his pauldrons and cuirass. Cedric's eyes darted around the examination room - there was fuck-all he could use as an effective weapon against a Khornate Chaos Marine, especially with no fucking armor or real weapons of his own, but without armor, Cedric should be much faster than this demon-empowered, traitor. How the Fuck had he even gotten this far into the clinic? Or had the Chaos Marine used the miserable and sniffling human child as leverage against the Ultramarine who was manning the front desk, keeping the schedules and appointments in order? Oh. Oh fuck the chaotic traitor is talking. What is he saying? Cedric should probably be paying attention to the fucker.

"-nd that's when the sickness started. His parents say that it's just a common cold, but he's gotten those before. He's not been this sick for more than a couple of days. I'm worried that he's gotten something more serious. Look him over... Pease. He's my bonded and... I want to be sure that he lives as long as possible. Baseline humans live for such short periods of time..." The World Eater huffed, holding the tiny human close to his chest, surprisingly making sure not to spear the poor boy on his spikes. 

What... What Chaos-fueled trickery was this? If Cedric's ears weren't deceiving him, this Traitor was genuinely concerned about the human child in his arms. And given the utter devastation his legion in particular was notorious for on formerly peaceful imperial worlds - the vicious bloodshed as they drowned whole systems in tides of blood for their false god, this felt like some sort of sick and twisted cosmic joke. Cedric counted to ten in his head as he took in a deep breath and let it out before responding through clenched teeth, aiming to keep his voice calm "When did his more serious symptoms manifest? What is the child's name? I'm not sure I caught it. Does he understand Gothic, or should I get an interpreter so he can participate in his healthcare? I am... Learning the local languages, but I have only been on Ancient Terra for... I believe the term is a month and a half."

"My name is Andrew, doctor. I do understand these words, a bit. But I speak-" The child explained, before breaking off into one of the local languages, speaking faster than Cedric could parse through, especially when trying very hard not to descend into a furious whirlwind of fists and holy wrath when faced by a Chaotic Traitor. "- much better, sir."

"Well, the first thing I need to do is give you a full examination, to check you over. Then, I'm going to use this needle to draw some -" Would the word blood push the Khornate Fucker into a frenzy? Cedric did not know and had no desire to risk the child's safety "-vital fluids, for some tests. Those tests will take about an hour, and hopefully we'll be able to figure out what's going on."

"Will the needle hurt?" Andrew asked, huge brown eyes wet with tears, fearful.

"It will hurt, but only a little, like pinching your finger." Cedric answered truthfully. He was pretty sure that the sight of fresh blood would send the Khornate Fucker into a frenzy. He'd rather avoid that if at all possible so he asks, internally gagging on how polite he has to be to a filthy traitor. His teeth were still clenched as he requests "Please set Andrew down... Older Cousin. He will need privacy as I check him over and draw a sample of his vital fluids. Please wait outside the room, ideally in the waiting room-" His eyes flicked over the other's armor, trying to figure out if the other had some sort of rank to refer to him as "... Sergeant." God-emperor forgive him, but he is trying to get this child to safety. He is going to hit the safety alarm soon, too.

Benji clearly did not like his suggestion, and looked down at the tiny human in his arms "... Are you sure that I can't stay with him? Even if I set him down on the exam table and promise not to interfere with you checking him over?"

Were he not a Treacherous Chaotic Bastard, such a compromise would be fine. But Cedric wanted him out of the room. Out of the clinic, and ideally back to whatever demon-infested pit he had crawled out of. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Until he could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth "Check-ups are done with the most amount of privacy possible. Unless Andrew asks you to stay, I am asking you to leave, per the local laws we're to abide by."

"... Fine. But if you hurt my bonded, there is nothing that will stop me from getting vengeance. If there is so much as a hair out of place... Your comeuppance will be brutal. your pleas for mercy will -" The Khornate Bastard began to threaten.

Cedric closed his eyes for a moment, taking in another deep breath, trying to shove the fury at the insult that he would be the one to harm the child of the two of them threatened to crack his composure as he interrupted the posturing Traitor "The only harm done to him will be a small prick of the needle, which is necessary for the tests that need to be run. Apart from that, I have taken oaths not to harm patients unless absolutely necessary, and on Ancient Terra, I have yet to need to give a patient the Emperor's Final Mercy, and I doubt that this patient will need such. Leave. Please."

"... Fine. I'll wait in the holding room. But -" Benji breaks off into one of the local languages, clearly telling the young baseline human something. Cedric wished he knew what the fucker was saying, but the older marine was speaking far too rapidly for him to begin to guess. Once he finished giving instructions to the child he continued "I am one shout of his away and I will break your spine if you hurt him more than absolutely necessary. Understood?"

Cedric swallowed down the challenging words that were on the tip of his tongue. Now was not the time to get into a brawl with a Chaotic Traitor. Not when he was so close to separating the two of them and being able to check to see if the child was willingly with this fucker (and thus Chaos Tainted, or at least blind to the dangers) or if he was being held hostage. "You need not threaten me, sergeant. I am not the threat to this child."

"Good." With that, the Khornate bastard finally, finally left the room, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Cedric counted to ten ins his head before raising the room's internal shielding and kneeling down, so as to be as close to the child's level as possible. He gently held the young boy's hands as gently as he could "Listen to me. You understand, yes?"

Andrew nodded, a confused expression on his face "Yes. I understand."

"Okay, so I activated a shield that means that he can't hear us talking, so please speak truthfully. Did he kidnap you? Is he holding you against your will?" Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm and soothing "My older brothers and I can help you, if that's true. Or if he's threatening your family, so that you behave."

Andrew looked startled and confused. He shook his head "No! No, nothing like that. Benji's safe, I promise! He's very nice to me an' my family! I know he looks really mean and scary,, but he really is nice. He growls 'cause he cares."

Poor child. So young, and already tainted or at least blinded by Chaos. But it was his duty to tend to anyone who walked into the clinic, no matter their allegiance, so long as they didn't try to attack anyone inside the clinic. "Alright. If that answer changes, please come see me. My name is Cedric, and I'll help you as best I can. Now, let's see what illness is making you all sneezy and feverish, hmm?"

"Okay!" Andrew responded, smiling adorably up at him.

Cedric couldn't help but return the smile as he narrated what he was going to do next during his exam of the young human - patiently answering the questions he had, and letting him look over the instruments he was using in order to complete the check-up, as he'd been instructed to. Pediatric care was not something he'd been taught before he'd come to Ancient Terra. 

~

The next several patients were adult humans. Two had work-related injuries that he helped to set initially, before giving them the paperwork they needed in order to start the process, suggesting that they speak with one of the medically-inclined Ultramarines at the front desk in case they needed help filling out the paperwork, or were confused about certain aspects of that process as it wasn't something that Cedric himself really understood. The other three adults had bad sunburns from a recent trip to the beach and an improper application of sunscreen schedule. he prescribed them burn ointments and sent them on their way.

He had just finished the write-up on the last patient he'd seen and had signaled to the front desk people that he was ready for another patient when a flirty voice called out "Oh my, well hello doctor. Aren't you a handsome, big man."

Cedric froze for a moment before spinning on his heel, shifting into a combat stance on instinct, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a fucking Emperor's Child leering up at him, his armor painted the bright and gaudy purple. The Chaos bastard's green stretched far too widely across his face and Cedric felt unclean at the way that the other was leering at him.

There was nothing visibly wrong with this... This affront to the god-emperor other than being a Chaotic Traitor, from what Cedric could see. He did not have a human with him. H could see something dripping from the other's claws, and given his last encounter with Slaaneshi-scum had ended with the death of one of his squad-mates, Cedric felt that it was entirely prudent for him to slam shoulder-first into the Emperor's Child, knocking the other off of his feet. He then pinned the pathetic excuse for a marine with one foot planted on the other's back, his gloved hands reaching for the nearest empty jar and a roll of tape. "Stay down, you Slaaneshi bastard! I don't know what nefarious fuckery has brought you here, but I will not have your poisoned touch corrupt the innocent souls here."

"Excuse me?! I came here because my -" The Emperor's Child spluttered.

Cedric shoved a stress ball in the bastard's lying mouth. It would do little to keep him quiet for more than a moment or two, but the silence was blessed "I don't care what lies you told the others to get in here, but know this, Slaaneshi whore, I will not let you corrupt the people here. I know damn well the literal poison that drips from your clawed hands, and the devastation it can bring. If you truly mean no harm, then stop struggling!" 

Surprisingly enough, the Chaos bastard did, in fact, stop trying to squirm out from where Cedric had him pinned. Not that the young Black Templar trusted his apparent compliance as he finished taping empty jars to both of the Slaaneshi bastard's still-dripping hands. He called over the vox unit that he'd been given "We need a full biohazard clean up. There's Slaaneshi poison dripped all over the floor and God Emperor knows how much he's dripped all over the fucking city. I don't think that it's a contact poison, but if it finds it's way into an open orifice or wound we're going to have problems. I've got the fucker who's secreting it contained for now, but we're going to need somewhere better to keep him... Unless we can banish him back to The Eye?"

One of the Salamander Apothecaries who was working next to Cedric's assigned exam room came sprinting out, a confused looking elderly human and their Dark Angel companion peering through the door behind him. The Dark Angel immediately picked up the human and shuffled deeper into the exam room- smart. 

"Cedric... Young one, you wanna explain why you've got an unresisting Marine in a headlock and jars taped to his hands? I know he's a Chaos Marine, but we've told you that things are... Different here on Ancient Terra. The Chaos Marines don't feel the pull of their false gods nearly as keenly here as they do where we are from. What do you mean by poison?"

"The substance that he is secreting out of his claws, it's one of the six most potent Slaaneshi poisons. If I am not mistaken, it's the Poison of Vainglory." Cedric explained, still keeping the Chaos Marine in place. He was trying not to think of why this particular fucker wasn't resisting the choke-hold, because Slaaneshi. He gives a quick run-down on what happens when someone is afflicted with the poison of Vainglory, voice cracking a little as he tries not to think of how one of his squad mates had nearly been corrupted beyond the Emperor's Light because of it. He finished with a miserable "As far as I know, there are no known antidotes or cures to any of the poisons. Allegedly there are certain kinds of witchery that can slow down the onset of symptoms... But once the vines begin to manifest, the afflicted being is beyond the Emperor's Light and is damned to be consumed upon death by the ruinous powers as their body twists into a horrible plant-homunculus that seeks to infect as many as possible with the poison. Which is why I taped jars to his hands - they are leaking the poison and while the poison can be cleansed in holy fire, I figured that the less of it is around to be cleansed, the better."

"Did you... Perhaps... Ask if he could stop dripping poison everywhere?" The Salamander asked, his voice gentle.

"... No? Why would he seek to do anything other than inflict his patron's wretched curse upon the innocent, and upon those of us who are loyal to the Emperor?" Cedric asked, blinking in confusion at the older apothecary. This was a Chaos Space Marine after all. Misery, cruelty and suffering was what they tried to spread to everyone they could get their corrupted hands on. Everyone knew that.

"That's not... I came here looking for help not to be judged by a Big Baby Boy! You are very mouthy for a Son of Dorn, aren't you?" The Slaaneshi Scum spluttered in his arms. 

Cedric tightened his grip, and put more of his weight on the older Marine "Still your tongue, traitor!"

"What help were you seeking?" The Salamander asked, looking genuinely concerned. Soft hearted bastard was going to get all of them killed. "Cedric, put him down. I know it goes against your training as a Black Templar to release a Chaos Marine you've gotten your hands on, but as we've told you earlier, things are very different here. I'll take over handling him. "

Cedric hesitated, torn between the clear and present danger that the Emperor's Child posed, and obeying a direct order from a superior who clearly had more experience in handling Chaos Marines in this context. "Sir?" 

"My claws just started dripping this poison this morning and couldn't get it to sto-how in the fuck did you get a Black Templar in the city? I'm surprised he hasn't murdered half the humans already for heretical beliefs!" The Slaaneshi Fucker sputtered, his eyes going wide - all six of them. 

"He's an Apothecary. And he's very recently appeared on Ancient Terra, and until you spooked the hell out of him, he's been adjusting fairly well." The Salamander responded, before looking directly at Cedric. "Put the Emperor's child down. Right now. I want you to go to Chapter Master Mirros and tell him what you just told me about Slaaneshi poison. That's not something I've heard of before, and will definitely be of interest to him. You've done very well. Come on now, lad. Ptu down the heretic. If he tries anything funny, I do have my flamer handy and you said that fire works to counter the poison?"

Cedric nodded, and glowered again at the Slaaneshi traitor "Yes sir, fire works very well against Slaaneshi poisons. And that which creates them." With that he lowered the Emperor's Child into the salamander's hands, before stalking off to go find Chapter Master Mirros. 

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - Body Buddies

Timothy and William were two friends who, despite the trials of life, held a bond that had weathered the test of time. Now both past their 50s, their lives had taken an unexpected turn. Timothy, recently laid off from his job, found himself at a crossroads. Over a pint in their local pub, the friends contemplated their futures.

“You know, the old gym in town is up for sale,” William mused, breaking the silence. Timothy looked at him, a spark of interest in his eyes.

"I've recently heard from a lot of young guys that they would like a place to work out.", he added thoughtfully and took a sip from his beer.

“If we bought it, we could fix it up and make it a great place to train.”

“Yeah, but who can afford it?” Timothy questioned, doubtful yet intrigued.

“Well, if we pool our savings together…” William suggested, shrugging nonchalantly. The spark in Timothy's eyes grew brighter. After some discussion, a decision was made. They would buy the gym and name it "Body Buddies."

Excited, they visited their new property. The gym was worse for wear, with old, rusty equipment and a thick layer of dust covering every surface. Discouraged, they wondered if they'd made a huge mistake.

“We need equipment and a good trainer, William. How did we not consider this?” Timothy sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair.

William nodded sadly: "Yes. Nobody is going to come if it looks like this. Even with a great trainer, we will need at least one good piece of equipment to get started. Once we have customers, we could buy more..."

"But we have neither."

Just as the weight of their predicament began to set in, Timothy's eyes caught a glimmer on the floor. Curious, he picked up an unusual coin. Suddenly, a wave of energy coursed through him, causing him to gasp.

“What's happening?” William asked, alarmed, just before he too began to convulse.

Timothy could feel his body changing. His spine straightened, his belly shrank, and his limbs thickened. His once thin hair grew into short, spiky strands and turned to a bright blond. A strong smell of sweat began to permeate the air around him, an oddly enticing scent, Timothy felt himself get hard from his own body odor - what effect might it have on other people? His age lines smoothed out as he morphed into a muscular, youthful man in his twenties. He flexed his new muscles, marveling at the strength and vitality coursing through him.

Meanwhile, William’s body was also transforming. He flattened and elongated, his skin hardening and straightening. The old man quickly lost all his wrinkles, and for a moment it looked like he was turning into a slim Black guy in his best years. However, the changes continued, as his limbs thinned and became shiny polished steel. Meanwhile, his body formed a flat, sturdy surface. His senses changed, giving him a new perspective of his surroundings. He was no longer William, the man. He was William, the workout bench.

“William?” Timothy asked, his voice deeper, more resonant than before. “Is that you?”

William did not reply, at least not with words. However, Timothy somehow knew that his friend was still in there. And just like him, his new body had needs. While Timothy yearned for the company of sexy women and... men? He shook his head, but it was clear as day to him now: He swung both ways now.

William on the other hand had entirely different needs now. As he was reduced to nothing more than a workout bench, he needed to be used, to the fullest extent. He could not wait for the sweat of their customers seeping deep into his leather surface and the grunts and gains of those using him.

Timothy looked at his new body, then at his friend, who was now an inanimate object. He felt a strange surge of confidence. This was a new beginning.

“Alright then,” Timothy said, his gaze determined. “Let's get to work.”

With that, he positioned himself above William, his hands grasping the edges. As he began his workout, the scent of sweat became stronger, filling the room. They were ready to take on their new roles, to start the adventure that was "Body Buddies."

Did you like the theme? Perhaps have a look at my other stories in the "coin"-series then!

[hotcocoabuns]

Today I bring you… *drumroll*

Edit: I forgot to tag the lovely artist that inspired me write these. @levionok, ask and you shall receive!

Teacher!Hob headcanons (mixed with an aftertaste of dreamling because I’m mentally ill about them)! Plus a bonus, mildly NSFWish, bit because, as much as I insist on writing sexy shit about them, I’m shy in front of an audience

Teacher Hob headcanons

Hob drives a motorcycle to university. it’s very important to me, ok? (picture him in a well worn leather jacket, distressed blue jeans and taking his helmet off/putting it on 😭💦🥴)

Hob’s outfit game slides from the most “cleans-up-nicely”, contemporary style, to the “just woke up with a migraine this morning after pulling 3 all nighters grading essays” half-made bun and T-shirt. His students can tell at what point of the school period they are depending on Mr Gadling’s looks alone.

Some of Hob’s literature students have taken to playing a game consisting of making him rant about William Shakespeare. He’s become scarily good at keeping his thoughts about the playwright to himself through the ages, and he can manage entire classes teaching his works without issue (maybe Will is still important or whatever). Still, once every blue moon, a student is able to get him riled up enough to trigger one of his signature “Shakespeare’s overrated” monologues. They have kind of a formula figured out: Bring up the topic of the bard’s possible inspirations, or the possible muse for Sonnet 130 and you’re pretty much a winner. He gets… passionate about it, to say the least.

Hob writes short quotes on the board at the beginning of his classes, hinting at the topic of the day. He makes his students try to guess it. He can be quite creative, which makes guessing more difficult. So, if they get it in the first three tries, he let’s them leave a bit earlier. As a treat.

He’s a MASTER storyteller. It’s one of the reasons why his lessons are so in demand and almost always full. His intonation, rhythm and body language are captivating. Sometimes, he’ll wear full-on costumes (with props and everything, the sweet man) to make his lessons more entertaining and interactive. Mr Gadling may be a little exotic, but that’s part of why he’s so popular at uni. (Something something, Dream’s rather private, but the pride that swells in his chest at Hob’s narrative abilities is undeniable).

Hob showed his students an antique fire weapon once (it was one of his, from the 17th century) and proceeded to baffle them after. demonstrating how to safely dismantle it, quickly put back it together, charge it and shoot it in record time. Like he’d been there when they first were made… Hey, Mr Gadling certainly has a variety of interests, huh?

So many faculty members have a crush on Mr Robert Gadling. He’s damn handsome and his easy smile melts even the coldest of hearts. He never seems to return anyone’s romantic sentiments, though. He insists there’s someone in his life already, but no one’s ever seen them?? And Hob won’t even tell their a name??? (He’s still a bit possessive about Dream’s name. It took him 600 years to get it, for god’s sake).

Cue the entire university slowly getting invested in Mr Gadling’s love life.

Bonus NSFW!

Dream enjoys visiting Hob at the uni. Sometimes, he’ll materialise in lecture halls, wait for him at the door, at the halls, at his office… Hob’s prudence is constantly hanging by a thread because Dream has taken a liking to showing up with nothing but his pitch black robe on and getting Hob to push him against the wall and maybe fuck him on his desk, if they have time.

[mimimyluv]

Hetalia y/n’s have to stand together, how about England x Reader where y/n admires his tattoos?

anon bless your heart because this lead me down a path of picturing arthur as a prep with secret tattoos and i promptly blacked out. when i woke up i ended up with this oneshot. i hope you enjoy and may your meals always be delicious and your pillow always cold (or warm depending on how you like it lol). also i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, so it's sfw (just to be safe). but it's still suggestive. if you wanted full-blown smut tho just lmk 👍

⏆﹒⬚﹒🍏﹒➲﹒reader admiring arthur's tattoos; gn! reader (nothing specified), 800 words/4k characters, fluff with some suggestive themes. lowercase intended.

the contrast is interesting, you muse.

your lover’s always projected a proper– if not a tad pretentious– image of the quintessential upper-class english man. he has all his clothes and shoes tailored; every thread and button perfectly bespoke (the extra costs just for suit jackets can be somewhat incomprehensible, but he always assures you it is a perfectly good investment. you never complain too much– not when he’s so damn handsome in those same bespoke suits).

he drinks his tea with a pinky up; always, always with the fine, intricately painted porcelain (an antique dating back to the victorian era, he often tells you).

he rubs elbows with the upper echelons of london society; engaging in those stereotypical, hoity-toity activities only people with money to burn can do (polo, horseback riding, fucking golf… it would make you laugh if it weren’t for his tall, elegant frame, with the lean, subtle musculature of the ideal english sportsman).

but beneath that proper exterior, though– there’s something more passionate, something more untamed lurking. while arthur often keeps that side of him under wraps, you have the privilege of being privy to it in numerous ways.

you’re reminded of it as you laze next to him in his sheets, basking in the post-sex afterglow. his back is to you, you can fully take in the smattering of golden freckles across his fair skin, and… oh.

“i haven’t seen this one before.”

you trace your fingers along the merfolk inked on his back. you try to summon some hazy memories from a past gallery date with arthur– ah, yes. it’s a near-identical replica of john william waterhouse’s mermaid, except…

it’s you. replacing the mermaid combing her long, auburn hair is you. you’re in that same, languid pose, with just a long white fabric draped tightly along your body to preserve the barest modicum of modesty. somehow, though– with the sultriness of your eyes, the curve of your bare neck and shoulders– this remaster of waterhouse’s mermaid somehow seems more… suggestive.

“do you like it?” he murmurs, turning over to face you. his forest-green eyes are lidded, light, feathered lashes nearly resting on the top of his freckled cheeks. this is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him; your heart leaps for a split second.

“a tattoo of me?” you say, mock-dryly. still, your face is warm, and you can’t help but smile. “i thought you hated cliches.”

“ah, well.” suddenly, he’s blushing too. his freckles are even more stark against his skin; you barely resist the urge to trace your thumb all over them. “some… can be alright.”

you grin.

“when did you get this?”

“a few weeks after our date to the tate.”

you can’t help but snort out a laugh, fond.

“and you said you were done with tattoos, hm?”

“when i saw that painting,” the pinkness of his cheeks deepen, “i just couldn’t stop seeing you. so one last tattoo couldn’t hurt, i suppose.”

“mhm, it’s not like i mind,” you whisper, drawing a hand down to trace the tudor roses and ivy inked along his ribs, “you know i love your tattoos, arthur.”

“perhaps that’s why i had it done,” he laughs raspily, “you might only want me for my tattoos. needed something to keep the spark alive, don’t you think, my dear?”

“don’t be an idiot.” you lightly chastise him, then draw him closer for a kiss, bracing him by your hand on the back of his head. unlike the heated, passionate kisses you two shared earlier, he moves his mouth against yours slowly and indulgently; the kind of kiss that could lull you to slumber after a long day.

“let me see it again, then.” you say against his lips, quiet and muffled. he smirks, uncharacteristically roguish.

“i believe you just proved my earlier point.”

“oh, shut up.”

he complies anyway, shifting so you can see his back; this time, you can study it more clearly. your face, stark as day– maybe it’s corny, but you can’t help the way your heart leaps at the sight. proper, upper-class arthur kirkland being lovestruck enough to have you permanently inked on his skin, even when he’s eschewed tattoos and everything that can be linked to delinquency in favor of his image. there’s just something truly… amazing about it.

“i wanna see the rest.” you mumble. he rolls over, pretending to grumble.

“maybe you really are just with me for my tattoos, love.”

you ignore him and look over the rest of his tattoos– the tudor roses and ivy on his ribs; the plantagenet lions on his left shoulder; a hobbes’ quote– a great leap in the dark– on his right forearm.

and now, the portrait of you as waterhouse’s mermaid on his back.

“i do love your tattoos, arthur.” you quietly repeat, settling down next to him. you draw nearer, hooking a leg over his body and resting your head against his chest; his heartbeat thrums in a consistent pitter-patter right next to your ear.

“but i love you more.”

he’s silent, but he combs his fingers– long, graceful, and work-worn– through your hair.

“i love you too.”

“yeah.” you smile drowsily. you can see yourself as a merfolk in your hazy mind's eye, forever inked on his back. “i know.”

[cherrylng]

Guitar Princes - Part 3 [STYLES Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

Ian McCulloch leads Echo & The Bunnymen. His childlike face and up-turned hair with a pouty expression really captured the hearts of 80s UK-loving girls.

Green Gartside, the face of Scritti Politti, was extremely popular in the 1980s. He is still active with his gentle voice and ability that Miles Davis and others would recognise.

The Prince of Neo-acoustic music is this man, Roddy Frame of Aztec Camera. The atmosphere that hasn't changed from his boyish first period to the present is amazing! He is also an excellent guitarist.

Charlie Sexton, aka Charlie Boy, made his solo debut as a boy prodigy at the age of just 17. He has had a long and successful career, recognised by Bob Dylan and others. But he was still beautiful! pic: Koh Hasebe

Johnny Marr is currently the guitarist for The Cribs. He looks like a reliable guitar brother, but back in The Smiths days he had such a sensitive vibe.

Bernard Butler, who wielded his glamourous charm alongside vocalist Brett Anderson during the Suede era.

The Reid brothers Jim (left) and William (right) of The Jesus and Mary Chain, were the ‘Feedback Princes’. They broke up and resumed their activities in 2007, but they are no longer princes!

This is Extreme's Nuno Bettencourt, the electric prince of the metal world. With his exotic face, rich black hair and exceptional technique, he has risen to the status of guitar hero.

Rich Robinson (left) of The Black Crowes shows a completely different personality backing his wild frontman brother Chris (right).

Einstürzende Neubauten frontman Blixa Bargeld. Also played in Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. pic: Koh Hasebe

Guitar Princes Part 1 Guitar Princes Part 2 Guitar Princes Part 4

[scotianostra]

On September 7th 1736, Captain Porteous was dragged from prison and lynched by an angry mob in Edinburgh.

I love when I can connect posts from previous days, if you remember this Thursdays post on Robert Fergusson birth date, in his poem The Daft Days, he mentions the ‘Black Banditti’ oh and the Aqua Vitae, is of course whisky!

And thou, great god of Aqua Vitae!

Wha sways the empire of this city,

When fou we’re sometimes capernoity,

Be thou prepar’d

To hedge us frae that black banditti,

The City Guard.

Captain John Porteous, was a Scottish soldier and Captain of the Edinburgh City or Town Guard, the old “police” force of auld reekie. The story of the unfortunate Porteous starts in January 1736 when three men, Andrew Wilson, William Hall and George Robertson, were charged with smuggling and attempting to rob Collector of Excise, James Stark at the Pittenween Inn, Fife.

All three men were initially faced with the Grassmarket gallows, though William Hall had his sentence revoked for returning King’s Evidence against his fellow conspirators. Judgment day for Andrew Wilson and George Robertson was set for 14 April. A few days before the execution date Robertson managed to escape his fate, leaving Wilson alone to face the hangman’s noose.

The following is from Edinburgh Poet, Allan Ramsay, (who I also mention on Thursday as Fergussons “muse”) for a first hand account of the events……..“

A true and faithfull account of the Hobleshaw [riot] that happened in Edinburgh, Wednesday, the 14th of Aprile 1736 at the hanging of Wilson, housebreaker.

On the Sunday preceeding viz the 11th, the two condemn’d criminalls Wilson and Robertson were taken as usual by four sogers [soldiers] out of prison to hear their last sermon and were but a few minutes in their station in the Kirk when Wilson who was a very strong fellow took Robertson by the head band of his breeks and threw him out of the seat, held a soger fast in each hand and one of them with his teeth, while Robertson got over and throw the pews, push’d o'er the elder and plate at the door, made his escape throw the Parliament Close down the back staire, got out of the Poteraw [Potterrow] Port before it was shut, the mob making way and assisting him, got friends, money and a swift horse and fairly got off nae mair to be heard of or seen. This made them take a closer care of Wilson who had the best character of them all (til his foly made him seek reprisals at his own hand), which had gaind him so much pity as to raise a report that a great mob would rise on his execution day to relieve him, which noise put our Magistrates on their guard and maybe made some of them unco flayd [unusually afraid] as was evidenced by their inviting in 150 of the Regement that lys [lies] in Cannongate, who were all drawn up in the Lawn Market, while the criminal was conducted to the tree by Captain Porteous and a strong party of the City Guard. All was hush, Psalms sung, prayers put up for a long hour and upwards and the man hang’d with all decency & quietnes. After he was cut down and the guard drawing up to go off, some unlucky boys threw a stone or two at the hangman, which is very common, on which the brutal Porteous (who it seems had ordered his party to load their guns with ball) let drive first himself amongst the inocent mob and commanded his men to folow his example which quickly cleansed the street but left three men, a boy and a woman dead upon the spot, besides several others wounded, some of whom are dead since. After this first fire he took it in his head when half up the Bow to order annother voly & kill’d a taylor in a window three storys high, a young gentleman & a son of Mr Matheson the minister’s and several more were dangerously wounded and all this from no more provocation than what I told you before, the throwing of a stone or two that hurt no body. Believe this to be true, for I was ane eye witness and within a yard or two of being shot as I sat with some gentlemen in a stabler’s window oposite to the Galows. After this the crazy brute march’d with his ragamuffins to the Guard, as if he had done nothing worth noticing but was not long there till the hue and cry rose from them that had lost friends & servants, demanding justice. He was taken before the Councill, where there were aboundance of witnesses to fix the guilt upon him. The uproar of a mob encreased with the loudest din that ever was heard and would have torn him, Council and Guard all in pices [pieces], if the Magistrates had not sent him to the Tolbooth by a strong party and told them he should be tried for his life, which gave them some sattisfaction and sent them quietly home. I could have acted more discreetly had I been in Porteous’s place.”

A total of 9 were reported to have been killed and at least 20 wounded by the City Guard. Porteous was arrested the same afternoon and charged with murder. He was tried at the High Court of Justiciary on 5 July 1736. There was no shortage of enthusiastic witnesses to testify against Porteous’ actions. The jury, no doubt spurred on by the mob gathered outside, did not hesitate in finding him guilty, and he was sentenced to hang on September 8th.

When the news reached London, Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole managed to secure Porteous a Royal Pardon. Porteous was still being held at the Tolbooth, the history is a bit vague about why, I surmise it may have been for his own safety, as there is mention of the guards being increased at the old gaol leading up to the day in question.

A 4,000 ­strong mob took to the streets of Edinburgh. A total lock­down was ordered by the City Guard and all gates, including the Netherbow Port were closed – shutting out many troops stationed outside of the town. The enraged mob made their way to the prison and set the doors ablaze, Porteous attempted to flee but was eventually grabbed by force and dragged up the Lawnmarket, then down along the West Bow towards the Grassmarket where Andrew Wilson had met his end. Porteous was strung up on a dyer’s pole and brutally lynched until he ceased to move. The government would later declare a reward of £200 for any information of those responsible for Captain Porteous’ murder, but none of those guilty would ever be found.

Sir Walter Scott’s famous novel The Heart of Midlothian written in 1818 would later recall the events in great detail.

If visiting Edinburgh and you find yourself in Greyfriars Kirkyard you can find Captain Porteous’s grave is towards the west wall, once a year the re-enactors of the Town Guard pay “respects” to the man there.

The pics are "The Porteous Mob" by James Drummond, The Porteous Riots, A Scene from the Heart of the Midlothian by James Skene and The Porteous Mob by Stanley Cursiter.

You can find a contemporary account of the Porteous affair here from the excellent Newgate Calendar https://www.exclassics.com/newgate/ng187.htm

[lxmitlxss]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Mobile Friendly Muse List

as of 08/29/24

Canon Characters

Pandora Hearts:

Xerxes Break

Gilbert Nightray

Vincent Nightray

Elliot Nightray

Levi Baskerville

Vanitas no Carte:

Noé Archiviste

Vanitas

D. Grey Man:

Allen Walker

Lavi Bookman

Marian Cross

Tikki Mikk

The Ancient Magus Bride:

Elias Answorth

Ruth

The Millionaire Detective: BALANCE UNLIMITED:

Haru Kato

Moriarty the Patriot:

William James Moriarty

Sherlock Holmes

Angels of Death:

Zack

Trigun/Trigun STAMPEDE:

Vash the Stampede ( both versions )

Nicholas D. Wolfwood ( both )

Millions Knives

Meryl Stryfe

One Piece:

Sanji Vinsmoke

Zoro Roronoa

Trafalgar Law

My Hero Academia:

Izuku Midoriya

Shoto Todoroki

Denki Kaminari

Shouta Aizawa

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Dabi

Jujutsu Kaisen

Yuji Itadori

Megumi Fushiguro

Nobara Kugisaki

Satoru Gojo

Suguru Geto

Yeah I haven't finished this one so BE KIIIIIIND

K Project

Yashiro Isana

Saruhiko Fushimi

Reisi Munakata

Izumo Kusanagi

Durarara!:

Izaya Orihara

Shizuo Heiwajima

Shinra Kishitani

Masaomi Kida

Bungou Stray Dogs

Osamu Dazai

Doppo Kunikida

Chuuya Nakahara

Atsushi Nakajima

Sigma

Jouno Saigiku

Tetchou Suehiro

Honkai Star Rail

Trailblazer

Dan Heng

Welt Yang

Aventurine

Veritas Ratio

Kafka

Boothill

Gallagher

Serval Landau

Sampo Koski

Seele

Huohuo

Genshin Impact

Tartaglia

Kaveh

Albedo

Baizhu

Bennett

Xingqiu

Heizou

Venti

Detroit Become Human

Gavin Reed/GV900

PROMARE

Lio Fotia

Lucia Fex

Bluelock

Rensuke Kunigami

Wataru Kuon

Reo Mikage

Hyouma Chigiri

Danganronpa

Byakuya Togami

Junko Enoshima

Leon Kuwata

Yugioh

Yugi Mutou

Yami Yugi

Joey Wheeler / Katsuya Jonouchi

Seto Kaiba

Ryou Bakura

Yami Bakura / Bakura

Duke Devlin / Ryuji Otogi

Jaden Yuki / Judai Yuki

Syrus Truesdale / Sho Marufuji

Yusei Fudo

Crow Hogan

Leo / Lua

Marvel

Tony Stark

Loki

Hawkeye

Bucky Barnes

Clint Barton

Moon Knight ( Marc & Steven )

Steve Rogers

Thor

Phil Coulson

Bruce Banner

Peter Quill

Rocket Racoon

Steven Strange

Eddie Brock ( mix comic/Sony )

Full Metal Alchemist

Edward Elric

Alphonse Elric

Winry Rockbell

Van Hohenheim

Maes Hughes

Alex Louis Armstrong

King Bradley

Lust

Greed

Envy

Final Fantasy

Cloud Strife

Reno

Squall Leonhart

Vivi Ornitier

Tidus

Yuna

Rikku

Paine

Vaan

Balthier

Prompto Argentum

Ignis Scientia

Servamp

Lawless

Shadowhunters

Magnus Bane

Supernatural

Castiel

Doctor Who

Tenth

Jack Harkness ( req only, might end up discord only )

BBC Sherlock

John Watson

Black Butler

Sebastian Michaelis

Ciel Phantomhive

Alois Trancy

Finnian

Mey-rin

Ronald Knox

Mashle: Magic and Muscles

Mash Burnedead

Dot Barrett

Ghost Hunt

Kazuya " Naru " Shibuya

Hazbin Hotel

Sir Pentious

Magi

Judar

Yunan

Sinbad

Jafar

Aladdin

Mythical Detective Loki Ragnorok

Loki

Dragon Age

Male Mage Hawke

Fenris

Persona

Joker/Ren Amamiya

Sojiro Sakura

Munehisa Iwai

Yu Narukami

Makoto Yuki

Tatsuya Suou ( req, discord prefered )

Princess Tutu

Ahiru/Duck

Fakir

Mr. Cat

Droccelmeyr

Pike & Lillie

Pretear

Himeno Awayuki

Hayate

Sasame

Kei

Go

Mannen

Hajime

Shin

Petite Princess Yucie

Arrow/Arc

Gaga

Cube

Soul Eater

Soul Evans

Death the Kid

Dr. Stein

OCs can be found over on @beyondlxmits

[practically-an-x-man]

You get a professional animator to do one (1) animatic for each of your OCs. What song are you chosing, and what vibes are you going for with each OC?

Ooooooh thank you!!! I've thought about hypothetical animatics for some of my OCs before, but... not ALL of them, so this will be interesting!

Rae: Free by Mother Mother. I'm imagining every "Love let my love inside go... free" being a bloom of her abilities, all this bright silver light as she puts shields around what she loves, and all the other parts of the song being some gentler moments from her life.

Robin: I think it would be fun to play into her musical theatre/opera side - Let's Hear It for the Boy by Deniece Williams (from Footloose). The animatic would jump between her onstage, playing out the song as an actor in the musical, and some little soft scenes of her and Peter being all cute together.

Madison: I know when you recommended it first I said that Belladonna by Ava Max was more of a Nikoletta song (and it is, but I have a different animatic idea for her here), but it could work for Madison too I think. It would focus on her mutation, maybe a few fight scenes with her blinking in and out of sight with her glass knives. Then we see her knives get shattered, and the fins and spines breaking through her skin (sort of a stylized version of what happens in her story), and then the final chorus is her with her enhanced mutation (really driving home the "poison/venom" themes there)

Ophelia: Heartbreaker by Pat Benatar. I'd definitely go with a stylized fight scene for her, probably the fight against Charybdis since that's her biggest fight scene. I'm sure there are other songs that would fit her, but... idk man, Heartbreaker is just permanently linked to Ophelia in my mind, I really need a fight scene set to that for her.

Gia: Absolute Lithops Effect by the Mountain Goats. I'm imagining it starting with Gia fresh out of HYDRA, limping on an old and unfitting prosthetic and opening up this rundown and boarded-up shop in Hell's Kitchen. Gradually we see the green come into her life again: she cleans up her shop and paints it in bright colors, flowers bloom, her clover thrives across the back wall of her shop, she gets a new prosthetic and bright tattoos slowly gather on her skin as she rebuilds her life.

Jasper: Falling Away With You by Muse. I already used it for a Heartstrings chapter, but it could also work as this quieter, emotional piece for an animatic. With the lyrics, and the way it switches between these softer verses and a more intense chorus, I could see a series of flashbacks between the soft, lighthearted start to their relationship with Kyle, and then the angsty journey to recovery and readjustment after he dies and is brought back.

Kestrel: This is another one you recommended, but Daffodil by Florence + The Machine. I could see a lot of nature imagery, and a lot of Kestrel's transformations into various different animals. I don't have a particular story in mind, just a cool showcase of Kestrel as a character.

Katherine: The Lion's Roar by First Aid Kit! I can see Katherine wandering through the desert, with golden magic twining around her hands like ribbons, until this mirage appears ahead of her: at first it wavers, then solidifies into a silhouette of a lion, then splits again into two figures walking towards her - Bastet and Sekhmet. They greet her like family members, maybe pull her into a hug or something, then disappear back into the desert.

Quinn: Breakdown by Icon for Hire. I could see this as a past/present thing, where the first half of the video is her before the accident, running and parkouring with her first crew - and then the music cuts off, utter silence, black and white as she falls and hits the ground. The silence lingers for a few long moments.... and then we're back to the song, full color and vibrancy again, with her post-accident still slipping through the crowds and picking pockets.

Eris: Guillotine Dreams by KiNG MALA for sure!! I want to see Eris fighting like an animal, covered in blood but laughing through the whole way, just causing absolute havoc. I just... I want to see them being an utter riot!!

Nikoletta: I still love Whispers by Halsey for her (thanks again for the rec!) and I think that the tone of it really suits her. I think it would be a very stark animatic, a lot of Nikoletta sitting alone in these dark rooms, a lot of black and white with very few details around her (as an echo of her feeling isolated both internally and externally). Either it could just stay there and be an angst piece, or there could be the gradual addition of colors as she bonds with the Squad - yellow for Rick, red for Harley, eventually a whole myriad of colors for Abner.

Jimmy: Hemorrhage (in my Hands) by Fuel. I'm imagining it starting out pretty angsty... Jimmy's lost kiss, him getting shot in the chest and watching the blood spray out into his hands, him waking up as a ghost and wandering Coney Island, and then... right at the end of the song, while he's on his knees and trying desperately to catch the blood spilling out... we see a figure step in and offer him a hand up, and the blood flow begins to slow.

Prometheus: I know I don't usually include them in the lineup, but... I wrote a whole fic about their transformation from a nightmare into a dream, and it's based on The Calling by the Amazing Devil. I would kill to see that whole transformation sequence set to the song.

[heaven-said]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄!

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood — pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse!

( This took me so long to do lmao-- )

Hero - Jeff Williams & Caleb Hyles

{{ THIS is Gabrel's theme to me, not just the near perfect lyrics but something about the blindly determined tone, the slight ego tied to a suffocating sense of responsibility, and I won't even bother listing the matching lyrics because almost every line fits him to a T-- especially pre-development gabe. For both Hazbin and Ultrakill verse. ( And it's sung by Caleb whomst has a great voice ofc ) Even the line about how children can't win a war could fit Hazbin verse because Gabe thinks of Charlie and her tactics as childish and sees fighting the darkness as just an ancient war. ( Or he did. ) }}

The Truth Beneath the Rose - Within Temptation

Give me strength to face the truth, the doubt within my soul No longer I can justify the bloodshed in His name Is it a sin to seek the truth, the truth beneath the rose? Pray with me so I will find the gate to Heaven's door I believed it would justify the means It had a hold over me Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast It is the darker side of me (Forgive me my sins)

The Plagues - Prince of Egypt

{{ I have to list this, its like an obligation on this blog lmao Really captures the conflict of the archangel brothers so well though, but also its ironic the way Gabriel is more Ramses than Moses. Even if its him who brings plagues. }}

Cold, Cold, Cold - The Family Crest

{{ Saw this in some Gabv1el fanart and now I am obsessed with it, it captures a feeling of two people fated to die together at the end of the world so well to me-- just with the intensity of how its few lyrics are sung. }}

See The Light - Ghost

( Thank Do-These-Eyes-Look-Human for reminding me of this song! ) Many a sin I have witnessed And in many indeed I have been Many a rat I have befriended And many a thorn stood between But of all the demons I have known None could compare to you Every day that you feed me with hate I grow stronger Drink me, eat me You will see the light

To The Edge - FF14

All our splendor bathed black in silence Our surrender, a somber reverie Slowly drifting down into twilight Left to sifting through fading memories Know our places, for worth is wordless Evanescent, this writing on the wall Brother, stay this descent to madness Come and save us, catch us before we fall

Noah's Arc - Young Heretics

Noah's Ark can't save us all Binary against the squall And in its wake Good men will fall And finally we can move on We have so much to answer for We asked for help to start this war Can we forgive The things we've done Take our things And move along

Charlie's Inferno - The Handsome Devil

( this one is the silly mood song, but it IS about a man who did everything right and still ended up being rejected by heaven so hoohoo ) You can run-on from your demons until you are exhausted One day, you will have to stop and find out what they wanted Keep on running from those demons 'til you are exhausted You can run-on to those angels until you are exhausted One day, you will have to stop and question what they wanted Keep on running to those angels 'til you are exhausted

False Start - We Were Evergreen

In the fast track I'm a ticking bomb Minor set-back, but I’ve gone too far I can make it just a few more yards I’m not failing, yeah, I’m almost done Can’t believe what just happened It wasn’t me, I know better than losing like this Clear my head, nobody’s saw it I’m up ahead, this is between the footworks and me Four long years I’ve been waiting to conquer this To spoil it up with a point one, a point one I can’t let, let my people down Not again, not after that last headline, that headline...

The Imperishables - Dirt Poor Robins

( A song that does wonders getting me into a scary angel mood lol ) We are the stars that never set The undying north, unfading west Tremble as we're now manifest A sight your perceptions will not accept Are we your relief or boundless grief A thief come in the night The legends of old you've cast away Are flooding back in your memories Nothing on Earth hides from our gaze The wheel of eyes see everything Heaven's desire burns like fire If you hate the light

Tagged by: @cast-you-dxwn & @brokendreamscreation ( It took me forever to settle on the songs for this but thank you very much haha-- )

Tagging: I do not know if anyone else hasn't done this yet, but please do take it! ( especially if we interact a lot, feel free to tag me lol )