#and I already stand out like just by being me and my piercings and accent maybe I should just go crazy

[solarismp3]

I’ve decided what to do with my hair for New Years/ when I go to Guinea

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - chapter 1 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The lion's lamb series: Aesthetics, Ch. 2, Ch.3, Ch.4

You spent most of your life alone. It wasn't your decision but artists tend to isolate themselves by accident. you were the type to find inspiration and peace when alone.

You would spend hours in your room, painting, until your vision became a reality.

Most people would never work as hard as you do to make a living, but you lived in Monaco. The country where money flowed. You knew you weren't like other residents that surrounded her in this country.

You weren't rich and you didn't have a trust fund to fall back onto. Don't get it wrong, your paintings sold high enough to be able to live in the country permanently, but you were barely scrapping by.

Some might ask why you choose to live in Monaco when you could have been living somewhere else more comfortably.

Monaco itself was known for their wealth and in your line of work, you need the rich to buy your work. You had about three regular clients in Monaco that provided 80% of your entire income.

Coffee was the only time you took a break and wandered into the outside world. And today was one of those days where you needed a break. you had been in your room for the past 4 hours trying to come up with something, but your mind was blank with ideas.

A client had commissioned a piece about 3 months ago and gave the 23 year old a wide range of creative ability on the painting as long as it was a darker piece.

You were the epitome of bright and bubbly and couldn't seem to get her mind into a darker frame of thought. With the piece needing to be done in a months time, you were starting to stress.

You had ordered your cup of coffee at your usual spot. You heard your name being yelled at the counter and quickly went up to grab your drink. Once in hand, you turned only to run into a wall, spilling coffee all over herself and the wall.

To add fuel to the fire of the already embarrassing situation, you slipped on the coffee that had spilled on the ground and fell to the floor hard causing more attention to be drawn onto you. While on the ground, you noticed two shoes in front of you.

You hadn't run into a wall like you originally thought, but instead a man. Your eyes followed the shoes all the way up at the man's face.

Piercing blue eyes stared down at you in annoyance. You could tell he wasn't truly taking you in but rather glaring at you for spilling both their coffees.

Jumping up quickly, You immediately grabbed some napkins off the counter of the coffee shop and tried your best to wipe the stains off the mans white shirt.

"I'm so sorry sir!" you said with tears building in your eyes. "I didn't see you! I'm so sorry!"

As you wipe the man's chest, he grabs your hands causing you to look up at him. It was then, he took in the details of you standing before him.

Your big eyes stared up at him, tears threatening to spill out of the sides. You had a light sprinkle of freckles that ran along her cheekbones and over your nose.

You had long hair that was pulled back out of Your face, but bangs to frame your face perfectly. Your lips were the perfect size and your cheeks were now the color of your lips from embarrassment.

There was a certain shine in your eyes that drew him. He couldn't tell if it was because of the tears or something else, but he needed to find out.

"It's alright," he said. You picked up an accent that wasn't from Monaco but you didn't know where.

"Please, sir, let me buy you your coffee! It's my fault, I can at least try make up it up to you by getting you another."

He nods his head at your response causing a smile to erupt across your face. The man loved how every part of your face lit up at his response. He didn't even say a word, yet you acted like he hung the stars just for you.

"How do you like your coffee?" you asked.

"Black," he state.

With a nod of your head, you told him to sit down while you waited in line. There were only two people ahead of you but you didn't want the man to have to stand with you after you ruined his clothes.

Being around him longer than necessary would cause more embarrassment on your part.

After getting both their coffees again, you found your way back to the blue eyed stranger sitting at a corner table by the window.

"Here," you said while putting it on the table. You noticed his shirt was definitely going to stain and winced slightly at the brown blob on his chest "Again sir, I am so sorry!"

You started digging in your bag for some money to give to the man for dry cleaning. Pulling out whatever you had, you tried to hand it to the man, "Here. It's not a lot but it should pay for dry cleaning to get that stain out."

"No," was the simple response you got.

"Please! It'll make me feel better if you take it! It's the only way I can make up for spilling you coffee!"

"Sit down," he said. You tilted your head in confusion at the blue eyed man. "Sit down and tell me your name. I don't want your money but I will take a name and a conversation as payment."

A blush quickly took over your cheeks as you shyly looked away from the man and sat down across from him. When you sat down you finally got a good look at his face.

He was attractive. He had these piercing blue eyes that would stare into your sole. He looked at you with softness but you were scared to be on the other end of that stare when he was angry.

He was tall, or at least taller than you, but that wasn't saying much compared to him. He was a dirty blond and had a bit of scruff that started to turn into a beard.

You could tell he didn't smile much due to him having very little smile lines. He was a serious man and it showed.

"Your name?" He stated.

"(name)," she said softly, "and yours?"

The man's eyes quickly flashed a look of surprise before they softened again, "Max."

[gladiatorcunt]

- # GIVE A FLY SOME HONEY !!

all roads lead to death valley

cw: southern setting & accents, sui ideation/thoughts, protected sex (are you proud of me), dead dove ending and undertones, sort of ambiguous, virgin cowboy!anakin x virgin afab!reader, ROTS coded!anakin, r2’s a horse, the force is in place of the christian God and is referred to as such at times, star wars being a fictional franchise in a star wars au fic, weird mix of a farm and a ranch, spanking, clit slapping, biting, reader’s inner freak has some crazy thoughts, mentions of humiliation and collaring/choking, anakin murders somebody (one scene of violence), what a heat advisory and the south’s sex education does to a mf, implied plus size and neurodivergent!reader, kidnapping????????????, mention of drugs, reader has a lot of internalized shame about where they’re from

wc: 4.2k (unedited)

what if instead of star wars it was called 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 wars

consider commissioning me!

Your unlucky streak rears its ugly head yet again. June was already shaping up to be a hot month, and your junkyard car wouldn’t start. You’re used to driving long stretches of road with nothing but livestock in fields to gawk at, it comes with the territory. But you couldn’t afford gas and decided to push your luck on the way back home, nevermind that the drive would be at least 20 hours. Moving to the city had its drawbacks, the road trip to and back being one of them.

“No, no. Come on, please work. Do you need me to fucking sing to you or something?” You groan, fruitlessly twisting your key in the ignition over and over.

Nope, “Tough shit.” Your engine mocks, death coughs sputtering out one after the other.

“ ‘You havin’ trouble?” A masculine voice shouts from behind you.

You get startled by the sound and gracefully slam your head up into the roof of the car as you turn around. You must look like quite the sight, clutching your now throbbing head and stumbling out of your broken down hand-me-down car on a long open road. Once you’ve blinked enough to adjust to the harsh sunlight, your eyes land on a tall muscular figure riding a horse. The clip clop of the horse’s dirty hooves on the gravel pierce your ears but the gentle sway of the man’s fluffy hair softens the blow.

“Um…. yes, sir. I am actually. My…. my car won’t start and I’m all out of gas.” You burn with embarrassment as you get through your explanation, trying your hardest not to throw up from the sheer social anxiety.

“Well that ain’t no biggy, I think I can help with that.” The man cocks his head and hops down from the horse, a white stallion with a few faded black-gray spots here and there. “Stay here, R2.”

You’re standing there dumbly, ignoring the tiny rocks digging into your shoes and the pounding in your skull as the cowboy wanders up to you. The sun bounces off his dark hat in a way that gives him a sort of halo, and you gape like a fish when he tips it down at you in a silent greeting, reaching out to shake your hand after. The silver spurs on his boots reflect sunlight directly onto your face, so you miss his open palm the first time.

His hand is rough, you can feel numerous old scrapes and cuts when you accept the gesture. But it’s so much bigger than yours, and there’s strange heat coming from his skin that you’re hesitant to pin on the southern summer sun. Too handsome, in a way that just can’t be possible, you quickly swipe a fingertip over his ring finger during the handshake and The Force must be looking out for you because there’s no ring. Not that you’re seeking anything out, but in the town you’re from, you’re lucky if anyone makes it past 18 without having a baby and getting hitched as a result.

Anakin tinkers away at your car for over an hour, finding more problems than just a lack of gas. Eventually he determines that you’ll die in this heat before you can back on the road, so he asks you to accompany him back to his ranch and he’ll send out one of his employees to bring your car around. You try to show him that you’re listening by ‘hm’-ing and nodding every so often, but it’s hard to rip your eyes away from a very attractive man bent over and sweaty while he’s fixing your car. You definitely do not want to cry when his flannel lifts up as he wipes the sweat on his forehead away with his greasy hand, revealing the slight softness over his muscles.

Since your car was no longer an option, Anakin grins as he gestures towards his horse, “R2’s a good horse, won’t give you any trouble. He likes to make a lot of noise and has an… acquired sense of humor, but I reckon we’ll get back just fine.”

He has you practice getting off and on the horse for a good while, the next step is letting you adjust to the feeling of being on one. You’d be embarrassed that Anakin’s having to teach you how to ride but his hands curl around your waist, keeping you steady and whispering in your ear to not be so stiff. Horses can smell fear after all, it’d suck to not only have your car be broken but your bones too. It’s a scene straight out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind that’s a tiny yellowed book sold almost exclusively in run down gas stations with a cover not far off from a porno.

Your cheeks are burning the entire way to the ranch, you relax as much as you can on an animal that’s a few hundred pounds of muscle with a searing hot body pressed right up against you from behind. It doesn't take long to get to your destination though, and before you know it sprawling fields bracket a mid size homey wooden building. There are some smaller pens for the cows to stay in and you follow their movement as an employee unlatches the gate and leads them out towards the left most field.

“They gotta switch pastures every so often.” He informs you, urging his horse into an energetic trot, “And it’s a good rule of thumb to have about an acre per cow.”

You tighten your hold on the reins and try not to focus on your fear of falling off. The pace of R2 isn’t one that you struggle to match but then again this is the first time you’ve ever ridden a horse in a long time. You’ve always been too skittish to do it regularly, and when you moved you got rid of the hobby entirely. You take a deep breath and let the horse’s movements travel through you, coming to enjoy the gentle jostling as you go. Anakin keeps his hands around yours on the reigns, making sure you don’t panic and seize up. R2’s not really beginner friendly unless he likes his rider, he has a tendency to just whinny and take off when the spirit moves him.

“The Force has done me good and given me a nice house on nice land, but it don’t mean nothin’ if i’m all by my lonesome. Ever since my dad passed and my ma’ died a few years after that, the workers and the cows are all I got, plus R2 of course.”

All right, he sinks into the jargon a little too much, but the way the sun accentuates the scar on his cheek makes it a charming quirk. You want to lick his teeth when he smiles, you think, before blaming it on an oncoming heatstroke. You’re no better than a man in this moment, and if you had seen him soaking up all of the attention in a crowded room in a bar you’d have no business being in, you like to think that you could pull him. You play with the slightly waxy feel of the leather reins, allowing the sensation of coarseness in the stitching to overpower any coherent thought.

“Why’d you name your horse R2?” You ask, ducking your head as you feel him guide the animal towards the stables.

“Oh uh, I was real wild over these sci fi movies from back when I was a kid. The hero had this robot called R2-D2, and I guess it just stuck with me.” He answers you with a shrug and a mild blush, curving his fingers around yours.

Your stomach warms at the feeling, but you refrain from returning the gesture, he probably isn’t even thinking that deeply about what he’s doing. He’s not obsessing over every square inch of skin that comes into contact with his own, not like you. You’re already missing the comforting weight of Anakin’s herculean body when he’s pulling the reins to stop R2 and hopping off, clamping his big hands around your waist and helping you down. You wobble for a bit and find your footing before you can pick up on how he momentarily froze in front of you, anticipating an easy opportunity to touch you again. Force, you really are stupid, bless your heart.

You glance up at him and start to say something but then you hear rustling in the bushes, Anakin must hear it too because before you can tug on his sleeve and tell him, he’s pulling his revolver out from its holster and striding off towards the sound. You’re quick to learn that he has a bit of a one track mind, especially when it comes to indulging the serpent twisting in between his ribs like a switchblade.

“I’ll be damned…”

You’re supposed to head inside and awkwardly linger around until your car is in good enough condition to get you back to Coruscant. The only thing is, you’ve now found yourself without your new security blanket, and your curiosity agrees with how much you don’t fucking want to speak to any of the people here without Anakin to hide behind. R2 loudly chuffs at you from his stall in the stables, either saying “That’s just how he is, leave him be!” or "What are you doing? You should obviously go after him!” You choose to believe it’s the latter, so you wander off into the distance, following Anakin’s lead.

You catch up to him quicker than you thought you would, and you have half a mind to scold him like a child if you weren’t catching your breath. All you can see is his wide shoulders because he’s hunched over something, your heartbeat quickens when you spot his gun being pointed at something. You circle around him to find a man squirming on the ground like a toddler, twitching every so often. Anakin seems almost enthralled by the desperate display, so he doesn’t notice you until you gingerly place a hand on his shoulder, soft and looking to soothe. Later you won’t remember the blood on the man’s temple or the matching stain on the muzzle of Anakin’s gun, because you didn’t witness that part.

He snaps out of it, turning his head to nuzzle his nose against your knuckles, “ ‘s alright, sweetheart, just a meth head too out of his mind to watch where he’s goin’. Had a knife with him, probably lookin’ to rob somebody blind.”

Your eyes flicker between him and the man, fully aware of how common stuff like drug addicts trespassing is and the old fashioned black and red ‘Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight’ sign. You’ve grown up around guns, you’re more used to hearing them in a hunting or taking shots at beer bottles kind of way, but it’s not like Anakin’s the only one to have that kind of self enforced rule when it comes to his property. Still… killing a human man is different than making use out of a successful deer hunt, right?

“Maybe we should call the cops, he can’t hurt nobody like that…” You try to reason, casting a pitiful glance towards the cowering man.

There’s a scratch on Anakin’s face that’s still bleeding from the knife the guy had used before Anakin took it, it just barely missed his right eye, he could’ve lost it. You’ll ask to help him with it when you get back to the ranch, but you know that there’s no seeing to it right now. You don’t want to risk an infection just so you could brush your thumb across the wound, you’re not even sure why you want to, it’s like the urge just materialized in your head out of thin fog. Anakin gently shrugs your hand off and uses his free one to pull you against his chest, and it’s like you’re back on his horse, that same fear entwined with exhilaration like barbed wire. Your hearts are beating at the same pace, some folks say that’s how you know it’s love, that’s how you know it’s fate.

“You don’t got the stuff in ya to be a killer, that’s just fine, darlin’. ‘Cause I sure do.” His words dissolve into a previously unknown to you cold sneer.

Anakin clamps a burly, sweaty hand over your eyes as he empties the entire magnum into the tresspasser’s skull. The bright sun bounces off the brim of his hat, casting a shadow over his stormy eyes. He may not have let you witness the massacre, but you will never forget the sickening yelps the poor bastard gave to Anakin like prayer. And then he got put down in a more inhumane fashion than if he were a rabid dog. To your gracious host, there’s probably not a whole lick of difference. Between a wanderin’ sap and a deranged mutt, that is.

But there’s a far off expression on his face, maybe he was once at risk of having two bullets in his temple at the hands of someone unforgiving.

“Welp.” Anakin exclaims, making a point of slapping his thigh as he holsters his pistol. “Better head on home now, I reckon. Come on, honey, don’t want to lose you to the coyotes.”

It’s said like “kai-yohtes.” You balk at his teasing and obediently trail after him, a vulnerable duckling staying in line. The storm is hitting hard by the time you’re out of the woods, and you briefly wonder if the Angels up in heaven are gonna start bowling soon. A saying that got passed around in your family, when you and the ones before you would stare up in wonder and shiver in fear at the thundering purple skies as kids. You remember being surprised that one of the Angels’ bowling balls never fell down to earth, maybe it’d be somethin’ like a meteorite.

As is the case with many things, it’s easy to lose sight of the fresh corpse in the dry grass. Once you turn around and thread your finger through Anakin’s, dirtying them, it’s almost like that man never existed. There must be something wrong with you, sure the situation is so unimaginable that it would be hard to cope with, but shouldn’t you be feeling more guilt than you do? You feel bad, of course, but ‘easy come and easy go’ has always been the way of things in these parts. God giveth and God taketh away.

You’re back where you should be, a narrow dirt path going under a wooden fence to the ranch. Grand trees line the road forming a moss green canopy. A few workers are goofing off and playing a very amateur game of football, blissfully ignorant to the fact that Anakin can obviously see them from his place next to you.

It would be a peaceful place to die, a bright and clear afternoon-evening in the way that the world can only be when you’re about to leave it. That’s how you’d want it to feel, like you’re rowing a boat across the lake you used to go fishing at to see people you’d never thought you’d see again waiting for you. Fall leaves, blinding pale sun, a serene and calming quiet. You’d be the happiest you’ve ever been, skipping even though you never could as a kid. There’d be no sadness, only relief and a memento of everything that’ll only make sense when it’s someone’s turn to see you again. No buzzing from mosquitoes or chirping from crickets, only little lightnin’ bugs. Maybe you only get that kinda ending if you’re good, in the godly sense, if you come from something worth remembering.

Anakin raises an eyebrow and gently jostles you, and just like that your train of thought is derailed. He chalks it up to shock, and nods his head towards a clearing behind the building. A change of plans. You follow, as you are wont to do.

“That rat bastard had it comin’ to ‘im, hun.” He tries to reassure and squeezes your hand, imploring you to see reason. “The Force decided it was his time, sweet thing.”

You shake your head, not disagreeing, just in utter disbelief. “I just… most everyone in my life I've known that’s died did it when I wasn't there. I’ve never had to actually be there when they… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” And that’s all he says, regardless of the truth.

It’s what you need, somehow he just understands exactly what that is. You’re starting to think that you certainly don’t have a damn clue. You look up at him again, really drinking in every facet of his entire being that you can latch onto and obsess over. You’re remembering why you were so anxious to get out of this sinkhole, it’s a miracle you ever got out of it in the first place. His hair’s all messy, dark curls strewn about like a windswept bale of hay. A storm is brewing in his eyes, like he could Earth to rotate in the opposite direction if he wanted it to. He works his jaw around in a weird way to get rid of the soreness after grinding his teeth.

It’s tantalizing, being the hand holding a man on the edge back from wreaking his God given havoc.

You dot a quick peck on his cheek, scrunching your nose up at the barest hint of prickly stubble.

His eyes widen, and the sun itself shines brighter. The cutest light dusting of pink spreads across his face, so he one ups you by pressing your lips together. It’s exactly how a first kiss should feel, a simple gesture that leaves you breathless and with more butterflies than a flower garden swarming in your tummy. There’s no fireworks, but you can hear wind chimes and birds singing as your lips glide together, the meeting of your tongues is so natural that you won’t be able to remember when his slipped through the seam of your mouth. You want to keen as he maps out your teeth, his spit has to have some kind of aphrodisiac in it.

Anakin works your jeans open and off your legs completely, his pupils expand when he sees your thick thighs in all their glory but he keeps himself from slapping them and acting like they’re the only part of your body. There’s an ever growing to do list in both of your heads, your combined inexperience brings a flurry of perverted ideas and porn scenarios to recreate with it, and you’re sad that you’ll very likely leave with none of them being fulfilled.

He yanks the collar of your tank below your chest, immediately leaving over to bite your cute breasts with all the grace of a rattlesnake. He doesn’t try to make any marks, he just wants to bite wildly and with reckless abandon, like he’s using your tits to self soothe. You’d do the same if he let you at his pecs to be fair, his chest is practically as big as yours if not bigger.

“This means somethin’ to me, hear that? ‘m always gonna remember my first.” He spits, clutching onto your bruised tit like he’s a split second away from sinking his hand into your viscera and dumpster diving for your heart.

He pauses pawing at your tits to reach in his back pocket and pull out a condom. It’s crumpled and the packaging is worn by rubbing against the denim of Anakin’s jeans, you can tell that he’s excited to finally put it to use. You’re glad that there’s some safety measures being taken, but your heart swoops in disappointment at the dose of reality. It’s the kind of thing that calls for the most diabolical, unhinged, strings of goopy fluid hanging from his balls as they slap against your rippling ass, raw sex. You don’t let yourself pout, Anakin’s making good use of the only working brain cell between the two of you. You scoot back on his lap to give him room to pop to button on his pants and whip his dick out. It makes a heavy ‘thwop!’ as it slaps against Anakin’s abs.

Your mouth waters at the sight, so thick with the just right amount of curve, it would scratch your throat perfectly. His hands shake harder as he rips the condom’s packaging open with his teeth and rolls it on his twitching length. You take a deep breath, finding comfort in the tense muscles on Anakin’s shoulders through his warm flannel. He curls a hand around the base of his cock and grasps it tightly, positioning it right under your empty hole. You’re lucky he didn’t have to tell you what to do, because working yourself down every inch would’ve been much more painful if you already needed to be taught a lesson. It’s weirdly sweet, the chaste pecks he presses along your nose and jawline as you adjust to what feels like a tree log forcing your tender folds to stretch around it. Your slutty body tries to twist itself in a pretzel with the way you’re swiveling your hips, trying to get more of Anakin’s dick inside of you when you’ve miraculously already swallowed him to the hilt.

“I want this pretty pussy weepin’ for me, I’m awfully sorry honey but i’m not stopping till it’s gushin’ all over me.” He speaks in between wet kisses up and down the column of your throat.

“Mmm- It’s okay, I want it like that, Ani. Promise- oh my god, so big.”

You make him feel like a man trying to outrun a forest fire only to get swept up in a tornado. Like there’s a fever in his brain that’s gotten into his blood, black tar dripping into his liver. Drives a man to drink so he can have a sliver of that feeling, that scalding need not even God could give you. There’s no finesse or coordination to anything, his lips frantically scurry along random spots on your upper body. His upward thrusts are heavy hitting and wrangle your breath out in stuttered gasps, he moves as if he were riding a horse, following only the imagined scent of old blood. Anakin’s cock is so big your walls could rip if he wasn’t always keeping a sharp eye on how much he’s bullying you. He doesn’t try anything crazy like fucking your cervix, it might shock you so much that you remeber exactly how long it’s been since he’s had your car “taken to the shop”.

His spurs dig into the dirt as he slaps your ass, the material of his gloves adding an extra bit of ‘umph!’ to the resulting sting. Anakin’s jeans are so warm against your ass that it takes a few more spanks before you really get the urge to bend over his lap and tell him to just have at it until you sob. You’re on an ecstatic high, living in the present with a near stranger’s dick balls deep inside of you. His eyes gleam gold when you make eye contact, and you find it so easy to fall down the rabbit hole, letting this man burn away all your responsibilities until he’s the last one left standing in a sea of ashes.

You don’t mind that he stops talking eventually, switching to gruff grunts and harsh yells. ‘Don’t be so stiff, let the movement roll through you.’ Anakin digs his fingers into the meat of your jiggling ass and delivers a final smack to both cheeks. You sigh in relief, but then you snap out of your cockdrunk haze to yelp at the cruel hit to your swollen clit.

“Need ya to keep squeakin’ sweets.” He orders. “Don’t want the townsfolk to think I fucked your brain out your ears.”

It’d be polite to make conversation with the people you meet when Anakin parades you around with his hat on your head later, something of a pre engagement tour. If the Force is good, you’ll be willing, because rope burn isn’t something you want to become your new normal.

“Chin up, buttercup,” He says almost bashfully despite how hard he’s pounding your puffy cunt, “We can get some ice cream at the fair after if ya like, make it a cute little second date.”

You whimper and harshly pull his hair, earning you a throaty moan and another slap to your clit, saying yes to him like you’ve already done a million times. You thought that the pure social anxiety of being around so many of Anakin’s employees would be nerve wracking, it’s nothing compared to having to speak to them AND keep their boss’s cum from oozing down your leg. Anakin’s discarded belt catches your eye when a sharp thrust sends your head falling back, and you picture the scuffed up belt buckle as the O shaped ring of a more traditional collar. The black stains from working on your car only add to the appeal, it scares you exactly how much you’d let the man fucking you with a cheap gas station condom get away with. You’ve already heard him kill a man, finding yourself in a relationship is pretty much the natural next step.

When he cums deep inside with a hoarse growl, there’s the sound of a bear trap slamming shut on an unsuspecting bunny rabbit. Your simultaneous orgasm is the tiny squeal it makes before it dies.

“I forgot to ask, hun, what stuffed animal do ya want me to win for ya?”

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[milliondollarwomen]

Well Hello

tom blyth x fem reader

word count 1.9k

mature content 18+

https://www.tumblr.com/daemonslover/740468521162653696/well-hello-part-2?source=share

Part 2 ^^^^^

overview: you meet him and the bar and he has to claim you.

hey y’all this is my first time writing like this! so please let me know if you guys liked it.

As you entered the bar, you could hear people talking and drinks clinking. A captivating figure was leaning casually on the counter. His commanding British accent drew you in right away. You decide to head over his way to see if he will notice you and as you stand next him waiting for the bartender he looks at you. "Well, hello," this mysterious man greets me. His smile is charming without being overly cheesy and he possesses dark curly hair that isn't too curly, along with the most stunning blue eyes you've ever laid eyes on. He was probably wondering why I did not react after I stared at him for a while.

"Hi" you responded not knowing what to do or how to act and all he did was say hello but already you felt anxious. "Are you from around here, love?" The way it slipped from his lips, love, was enough to make you melt. "No, I just moved here for graduate school. I'm going to NYU, and you?" When you told him you were a graduate student, he tilted his head slightly, which made you wonder what it was about that interested him; however, you refrained from making too much of it. "Ah well, congratulations, but yes, I am, and I've been here for quite some time,"

you were intrigued and wanted to learn more about him. As he spoke, he sipped from his cup; you couldn't help but notice the way he held it, how it landed on his lips, and how his Adam's apple bobbled as he swallowed. It was enough to make your mouth water. It was puzzling to you how a guy you had only known for five minutes could evoke such strong emotions in you. "so, what do you do for work or are you in school as well?"

With a look of surprise on his face, he shifted his gaze towards you. "I do a lot of things, none of which concern you, dove, but I would love to buy you a drink. So tell me all about yourself." you can't say that you blame him for avoiding the subject; after all, you are just an odd woman who wants to know where he works or if he's in school. In the course of your conversation, you told him that your undergraduate major was sociology, that you were lonely here, and that you had hoped to make some new friends if you ventured out more. After blabbing your mouth for the next 30 minutes, you realized how open you were to this man you had never met. He may be a murderer for all you know. His eyes pierced through you as you pondered why you told him these things about yourself, and then he assertively said, "Tell me what you're thinking about." It jolted you out of your nervous thoughts, "I just told you about myself and I have no idea who you are."

Unexpectedly, he grinned at you. To him, it seemed like you were exactly where he wanted you to be. Before you stepped next to him, Tom spotted you—even though he hadn't planned on meeting a woman tonight. He could tell you were a newcomer to the city. Your awkwardness when approaching the bartender for a drink and your rushed search for someone to talk to was clearly noticeable. He could see right through you. He took pleasure in the idea of dominating others, particularly those who sought out his presence and placed their trust in him. Claiming that you were lonely and in need of someone sparked his interest in you.

He grasped your fingers, entwined them, and rubbed circles around your thumb. "my love, let me apologize for my rudeness earlier I just don't open up to many people but you have made me feel comfortable." This made you feel relieved. "I'm a teacher, but I grew up in Birmingham, I moved here a couple years ago for the job and have loved it ever since" He realized he needed to exhibit his softer side to entice you back, and that is exactly what he did. The way your eyes softened when he discussed relocating here and teaching made him want to do unexplainable things to you. This was so easy for him all he had to do was throw the word love or dove around and you would cave.

After that, you gradually picked up on his flirting, massaging your thumb, and calling you pet names. With the courage of alcohol, you thought you could seize this opportunity. You move forward and whisper in his ear, "Well I think teachers are sexy," and you can see his jaw clench as he realizes how forward you are being with him. He glanced at you with passion before grabbing your waist. You were so close you feared you'd be unable to breathe. "Don't start something you can't finish," his aggressiveness made you weak in the knees. You began to feel the warmth rise between your legs. All it took was you to look at him like you were begging for him to be inside you. he grabbed your arm and lead you out of the bar. "you're coming home with me" this instantly made you regret your decision, you'd thought it be fun to tease him but you didn't think he would take you home.

Before he called a taxi, you looked at him with nervous eyes, "Honestly I should get going, I just moved in and need to get settled I-" before you could finish your sentence, he pulled you to the side and leaned into you, "Oh dove, you can't tease me in there and expect to get away with it" he lightly grabbed your throat and ran his hand up to rub his thumb across your mouth, "You're going to be a good girl okay?" This made you think this man is bad news, but his dominance over you gave you chills. "okay I'm sorry" was all you could manage out of your mouth.

When we arrived at his place, all you could see was how immaculate and tidy it was. Coming from college, most boys/men's homes are awful. After scanning the room, he observed how interested you were. Simply adoring you. You look over at him as he sits on the couch, straight passion in his eyes. This made you want to puke since you knew what he wanted. "Come here" he said, making your stomach drop. you cautiously approach him, and he places his hands on your shoulders and forces you to your knees. "Now I just met you and I understand you may not know how things work but teasing me and then trying to back out isn't going to work dove" As he reprimands you, he effortlessly puts his thumb into your mouth. He moves it around, gets wet, and rubs it against your lips. Your eyes were wide and large, ready for his next move. This makes your panties soaked for him.

He keeps a close eye on me, knowing that you have no idea what his next move will be. With that, he unbuckles his pants and removes his boxers, revealing that he is very well endowed. His cock is extremely hard for you. You observe how the veins transport so much blood to the tip. It's crimson with precum. "Now be a good girl and suck my cock," he demands. You shove him into your mouth and beginning to bob your head back and forth. He immediately begins to grunt as he watches you suck him off. "Fuck, you're being so good for me," he says. It makes your pussy ache for him. Looking up at him and seeing him appreciate your lips around him only makes you desire him more.

You get bored of giving him head, which makes him angry. He grabs the back of your head and fucks your mouth till you are unable to breathe. After he is pleased, he pulls you up and clutches your neck, "You will stop when I tell you to stop." This instills terror in your eyes, which turns him on and uses to fuel himself. He pushes you onto the couch and begins pulling your clothes off left and right. He hovers over you while you lay there naked and exposed. "Please touch me" you implore. "Please what?" he taunts you, as if your pussy isn't throbbing to be touched. "Please, sir, please touch me" and he begins to rub circles on your pussy, causing you to jerk and squirm. He enjoys witnessing how easy it is to fulfill you.

"Oh fuck, don't stop," you moan, and he promptly stops. "You don't tell me what to do, I've been too passive with you; you need to learn a lesson," he says as he flips you over and shoves his cock inside you. His size made you shout out, unable to adjust. After a few strokes, pleasure begins to surge in your stomach. "Sir, you feel so good." Those words caused him to slam into your tight pussy even harder. "You're such a good girl, taking all of me in your tight pussy." Hearing him speak to you in such a humiliating manner turned you on. His cock began to twitch inside you, eventually spilling all of his seed. He pulled out and watched you collapse on the couch, watching all of his sperm run out of your pussy.

"you are mine now"

Two weeks later

It had been two weeks since you last saw the man you met at the bar, and you still hadn't gotten his name. You awoke this morning ready to begin the day because it was your first day of graduate school. You were worried but eager to begin courses. You'd gotten up, showered, blow-dried, and styled your hair. You wanted to make a good first impression because you did not know anyone yet. You put on light makeup and got dressed.

Fortunately, when shopping for apartments, you discovered one close to campus, so you could walk to your first class. Today, you had your first class at 9:00 a.m. Walking through New York, you simply absorbed everything in, watching people and soaking up your surroundings. You had a feeling this was the right place to be, and you were excited for the journey to begin. When you arrived on campus, you entered the building and found your classroom. You arrived a little early, so you decided to walk in and take a seat. There were a few students already in the room.

The girl sitting next to you looked over and smiled, "Hi, my name is Emily," which let you relax even more. "Hi, my name is y/n." With that, we began talking about where we were from and what other classes we were attending. The class became larger, and it was finally time to begin. The professor strolled in and said the normal hey, my name is yada yada. After reviewing the curriculum and taking notes, a man walks in. "I'm sorry for being late, professor; it won't happen again." Before lifting your head, you knew that British voice. It made you shiver in your chair. "Sorry for the interruption, class. This is Tom Blyth; he's been working for me for two years and will be assisting this semester." You cautiously raise your head, hoping it's not who you think it is. And there's the man you met in the bar, smirking at you.

[charliedawn]

Hello! How would Eddie Gluskin react to finding out that he has a daughter in her 20s who is dating Kevin Hannibal?

Thank you so much for your writing. It makes my day.

The day Eddie Gluskin found out about you—his daughter—everything in his world shifted. He’d always imagined the perfect family, but it had been nothing more than a twisted fantasy, shattered over and over by failed attempts to create it. Now, he had a second chance. You—his daughter—fully grown, in your twenties, standing before him. He had missed everything, but he saw this as his opportunity to fix it, to finally have what he had always wanted: a family to cherish, protect, and mold into perfection.

But then came the next shock: you were dating someone. Kevin Hannibal.

Eddie hadn’t heard the name before, but the weight of it hit him the moment you said it. His expression didn’t change much—he was always careful about that—but his mind was already racing. Who was this Kevin Hannibal ? A man close to you, someone who had taken the spot Eddie believed was his by right.

That wouldn’t do.

When Kevin Hannibal met Eddie Gluskin, he walked into the room with the same easygoing confidence that had drawn you to him in the first place. With his dark hair slightly disheveled and his casual, almost careless posture, Kevin radiated a kind of laid-back energy that usually made everyone around him feel at ease. He flashed a grin as he held out his hand.

"So, you must be the dad, huh ? Heard a lot about you," Kevin said, his Australian accent rolling off his tongue in a way that made his tone sound playful.

Eddie didn’t return the smile. His cold, blue eyes met Kevin’s with an intensity that seemed to cut through the room. He didn’t shake Kevin’s hand, instead letting it hang there awkwardly in the air for a moment before Kevin withdrew it, unbothered. Eddie’s face was calm, calculated, but his eyes…His eyes were piercing, the kind of gaze that made you feel like you were being dissected.

"Kevin Hannibal," Eddie repeated slowly, the name like a bitter taste in his mouth. He studied Kevin for a moment longer, then his lips curled into a thin, almost patronizing smile. "And what exactly is it that you do, Kevin ?"

Kevin shrugged, leaning against the back of a chair. "I’m an artist, mate. Bit of painting, sculpting…y’know, whatever strikes me. Pretty good at it too, if I say so myself." He shot you a wink, trying to lighten the tension that was thick in the room.

Eddie’s gaze flickered to you, then back to Kevin, as if weighing his words carefully. "An artist," he murmured. "I see." His voice was smooth, but there was something behind it, something unnerving. "And what exactly do you think you can offer my daughter ? Surely, it’s not just...paint and clay."

Kevin chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. "Mate, I’m not trying to sell you on anything. Your daughter and I ? We’re happy. She doesn’t need anything more than that."

The casual nature of Kevin’s response didn’t sit well with Eddie. Not at all. Eddie was a man who believed in control, in devotion—complete devotion. And the way Kevin spoke, the way he carried himself, was far too relaxed. Far too easygoing for Eddie’s taste. His smile faded as he took a step forward, his voice lowering, though no less calm.

"Happiness is fleeting, young man," Eddie said softly. "It’s a fragile thing. And people like us… we know how easily it can be destroyed." He let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "You see, I believe in something far more permanent. Something stronger than happiness. Family."

Kevin’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but he kept his smirk in place. "Yeah, I get that. Family’s important. But don’t worry about us, mate. We’re doing just fine."

Eddie tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving Kevin’s. "Are you, really ? You know, family requires more than just a few laughs and smiles. It requires sacrifice. It requires understanding. And protection." His voice grew quieter, more dangerous. "Are you truly capable of protecting her ? Of doing what needs to be done to keep her safe ?"

Kevin’s smile faltered for the first time, and the room grew colder. He crossed his arms, his playful tone replaced with something more serious. "I’m not sure what kind of protection you’re talking about, but I’m not going anywhere. She’s safe with me. You don’t need to worry about that."

Eddie’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. "I don’t think you understand, Kevin. People like us—you and me—we know how the world works. The things it can take from us. I just wonder if you have the stomach for it."

There was a pause, and Kevin’s eyes darkened as he finally understood the deeper meaning behind Eddie’s words. "If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about,"Kevin said slowly, "then yeah. I can handle it." He leaned in slightly, his tone turning more defensive. "Look, mate, I know what’s out there. I know what we do—what my family does. And I ain’t gonna force her into anything. I’m not afraid to do what needs to be done for her. But she’s happy with me, and I’m not letting anything happen to her. So why don’t we cut this whole ‘overprotective dad’ thing and call it what it is ? A pissing contest. You’re just pissed that your daughter has another man in her life. Makes her less easy to manipulate and control. But, let me remind you…Father of the year. You were absent for more than 20 years. Me and her ? We go way back. I have known her for even longer than you have. I have protected her. I have watched over her. Heck, at this point, she might as well start calling me Daddy."

Kevin smirked boyishly at the playful jab he had thrown back and Eddie’s eyes sharpened, and for a moment, his smile turned into something more sinister. "Oh, Kevin," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "This is no contest. I’m simply reminding you that no matter how much you think you care for her, I will always protect her in ways you can’t imagine. You may think you’re enough, but family…real family…is more than just protection. It’s control. It’s sacrifice. And it’s about knowing how far you’re willing to go."

Kevin’s jaw tightened. "I’d do anything for her."

Eddie suddenly took Kevin by the collar and yanked him so close that their eyes were inches apart. He wanted to see fear in that boy’s eyes. Maybe then, he’d understand. But when his blue eyes met Kevin’s dark ones, he only saw that same infuriating amusement…hiding his true feelings and emotions from sight…

"Dad !" You screamed in alarm and tried to get him off Kevin—but Eddie didn’t spare you a glance as he kept staring at the boy. Barely a man. Pretending to love his daughter better than he could…That weak pale and sickly-looking boy. That nothing. That nothing dared challenge him ? Eddie’s gaze lingered on Kevin for a long moment, as if testing the truth of his earlier words. Would that boy be capable of handling his daughter and protecting her from the world ? Their eyes stayed wide open as they observed each other closely. Then Eddie smiled—a smile that sent a chill down your spine. "Good," he whispered. "Because you’ll have to. One day, you’ll see."

He then released Kevin who took a step back. Eddie looked down on him with nothing but pure disdain. That weakling…

"You say you can protect her, young man ? How could you ever protect her when you are so weak you can’t even stay on your own two feet ?" He spat. He then walked away without saying another word. The conversation ended, Eddie had said what he needed to say, and Kevin gritted his teeth. That asshole !

After Eddie left, the air in the room felt heavy, the tension clinging like a thick fog. You glanced at Kevin, unsure of what to say. He was standing where Eddie had left him, his jaw tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The playful smirk was gone, replaced by a hardened expression you didn’t see often.

"Kevin…" You started, taking a tentative step toward him.

He blinked, seeming to come out of his thoughts, and turned his gaze to you. He gave a strained chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well…that went better than I thought."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Better than you thought ? He just threatened you."

"Yeah, I noticed that, princess." Kevin’s lips twitched, the Aussie humor kicking in as he tried to brush off what had just happened. But you could see it—the tension still simmering beneath the surface. "Your old man’s got a bit of a temper, doesn’t he ?"

You sighed, stepping closer and resting a hand on his arm. "You didn’t have to provoke him like that."

Kevin let out a sharp breath through his nose. "I wasn’t gonna stand there and let him destroy whatever good thing we got going on." His dark eyes met yours, the humor slipping away again. "I know he’s your father, but he doesn’t get to waltz in here after twenty-something years and think he owns you."

You knew Kevin had a point. Eddie had barely been a part of your life, and now he showed up, acting like he could dictate your relationships. But still…there was something unsettling about the way Eddie had looked at Kevin, the cold calculation in his eyes. You knew Eddie was protective in a twisted, possessive way, and it made you uneasy.

"He’s…" You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your father to Kevin. How could you ? Eddie wasn’t someone you could easily describe. He was obsessive, controlling, and yes, dangerous. But he was also your father.

Kevin sighed and offered you a weak smile.

"Hey. I get it,” Kevin said, softer now. He placed a hand over yours. "Family, right ? It’s complicated. Trust me, my family’s no walk in the park either." He chuckled bitterly. "You’ve met Hannibal Sr. You know what I mean."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. Kevin’s family—the Hannibals—were just as twisted, just as complicated. Hannibal Sr, the father figure to Kevin, was cold and calculated, much like Eddie, but in a different way. Where Eddie’s protectiveness came from a place of obsessive love, Hannibal Sr’s protectiveness came from control, logic, and detachment. It was almost eerie how similar they were, though they didn’t even know each other.

"Eddie and Hannibal Sr." you muttered, shaking your head—a small smile playing on your lips. "They’d get along disturbingly well."

Kevin snorted. "Yeah, well, that’s the last thing we need. Two control freaks plotting over our relationship. I’d never hear the end of it."

You both shared a brief laugh, but it didn’t quite erase the lingering tension. Kevin’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his tone serious now. "I’d do anything for you. I don’t care what your dad thinks, or what he threatens. You’re mine. And I’m not letting him take that from us."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "I know. And I’m not letting him take you from me either."

Kevin’s lips brushed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before he pulled back. His expression was still tense, but there was a fire in his eyes now, a determination that reassured you.

"I don’t care how many ‘fathers’ come out of the woodwork, princess," Kevin said, his voice firm. "I’m not scared of him. Not of anyone. He’ll learn that real quick."

You gave him a small, grateful smile. But deep down, you couldn’t help but worry. Eddie Gluskin wasn’t someone to underestimate. And now that he knew about Kevin, you knew he wouldn’t just sit back and let this go.

"I’ll talk to him," you said softly, almost more to yourself than to Kevin. "I’ll make him understand."

Kevin nodded, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t convinced. "Just be careful. That bastard knows how to play fiddle all too well. Don’t let him get into your head."

You sighed, knowing Kevin was right. "I will."

But as you stood there in Kevin’s arms, the weight of the situation pressed down on you. You weren’t sure how you were going to handle Eddie. You weren’t sure if you could make him understand. But one thing was clear—you weren’t going to let him tear you and Kevin apart.

[ackermancurse]

58 with Levi Ackerman for the prompt list please hehe :)

Modern Levi x Reader

Levi is your plus one to a wedding you were invited to in your family. Levi has always been your best friend so you asked him to go with you because you didn’t want to show up without a plus one.

“Pleaseeee Levi. My cousin is getting married and I’m tired of showing up to weddings without a plus one. It’ll shove it in my aunt’s face. I’m tired of hearing her snarky remarks of me still being single,” you plead to your best friend that sits on your couch in your apartment.

Levi sits with his right ankle resting on his left knee and leans his head back against the wall behind him, “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your face lights up, “Thank you thank you Levi. So I was thinking you can wear that black suit with the baby blue button up because it really brings out your eyes and-“

Levi puts up his right index finger and points at you, “Just promise me you won’t make me dance.” His grayish-blue eyes pierce into yours.

You pout, “But-“

“No but’s. I’m sorry but you know I don’t dance. When have you ever seen me dance in the 6 years you’ve known me,” he explains with a quirked brow.

You huff, “Fine I promise.”

Levi puts out his right pinky finger, “Swear on it.”

The one time he picks up a trait of yours it’s of course the trait you practice most. You always make Levi pinky swear and he hates doing it, but knows it means a lot to you. You put out your left pinky finger, “I swear.”

You place your earrings in and look at the time on your phone. Levi still hasn’t shown up and you have to leave in 5 minutes. You dial his number but it goes straight to voicemail, “Levi where the hell are you? Call me when you get this.”

There was a knock at your front door. You rush over and open it to see your best friend.

“Sorry I had to pick up my suit from the cleaners,” he mumbles with the suit still on its hanger.

You roll your eyes, “Well can we hurry this up please I wanna be there as soon as possible to rub it in my aunt’s face that I have a plus one finally.”

Levi enters your bathroom and shuts the door behind him while you sit on the couch. 2 minutes later he comes out in his freshly pressed suit. His dark locks framing his face perfectly.

“Can you just help me with my watch,” he asks, holding his expensive dark chocolate brown leather watch with a navy blue face and gold accents.

You stand up and grab his wrist gently, fastening the loose watch tightly together, “There, all done.” You glance up at Levi and find him already looking at you.

“You look good,” he replies in his deep and sultry voice. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

You clear your throat and step away from him, “Thanks Levi. Don’t look too bad yourself. Let’s go, yeah?”

He nods and makes his way towards the front door, opening it for you.

—

You arrive at the wedding venue with Levi and he puts his arm out for you to lock your arm with him, “God I can’t wait to see the look on my aunt’s face.”

Levi chuckles slightly which makes me smile and look up at him, “Glad I could help. But remember our deal, no dancing.”

You sigh, hoping he had forgotten about the stupid deal, “Yes I know.”

As you walk up the steps to the building your Aunt Alice steps out and locks eyes with you, “Well what do we have here? Did you finally take my advice and stop acting like a child and get yourself a-“ she glances at Levi and looks him up and down, “nice piece of man.”

You had to admit Levi always did clean up well. The way the baby blue shirt brings out his piercing eyes and his dark features accentuate his facial features like his chiseled jaw.

“Levi Ackerman ma’am. Your niece has told me so much about you,” he extends his hand and she accepts it.

“Only good things I’m hoping,” she smiles.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye with a small smirk, “Of course.”

Aunt Alice’s face turns flush and she looks you in the eye, “You better not do anything to lose this man, dear, or I’ll have to set him on a date with your cousin Rachel. She’d really love him,” she replies and winks at Levi. “It was nice meeting you Levi, I hope to see you more later.” Aunt Alice walks away to continue with her bride of the mother duties.

Your smile fades, “Ugh I can’t stand her.

Levi unlocks his arm from yours and grabs your hand, “Hey, don’t bother with her. I can tell she just wants to get a reaction out of you.”

You look down at your hand in his. Levi has held your hand before, but this felt different. You look up to him and his eyes soon look up into yours.

Levi clears his throat and let’s go of your hand, “So should we find a spot inside?”

—

The reception has gone on for a couple hours. You and Levi have been talking to all your family members who can’t help but gush over your “boyfriend.” Many of them commented on his cold and stoic impression and that he seems straight out of a romance novel.

You watch as other people dance with their dates and can’t help but feel a bit sad. You wish Levi wanted to dance.

“Uh oh trouble in paradise already? I told you Levi she’s a tough one,” Aunt Alice appears and sits down at your table next to Levi and gives you a tight-lipped grin.

Levi looks at you and back to your aunt, “Oh no. We’re just enjoying each other’s company here and talking to people who come by.”

Your aunt shoots you a glare, “I’m sure you’re just dying to dance and because she’s upset she’s not the one getting married so she just wants to sit and sulk. I’m so sorry Levi.”

You feel that familiar tightness form in your throat and feel tears sting the corners of your eyes. You look up at Levi and when he sees your expression he sends your aunt a look like he wants to strangle her. Of course, she doesn’t know this expression like you do.

“Actually I was just about to ask her to dance,” Levi retorts and stands up unbuttoning his suit jacket.

You quickly look up to him wide eyed, “Levi you don’t-“

Levi gives you a look, “C’mon dance with me.” His hand extends out to you.

You look at it for a moment and look back up to him. He gives you a nod of reassurance. You grab his hand and stand up.

Levi begins walking towards the dance floor with you when he stops and turns around, “And excuse me Alice. Your niece is a very beautiful young lady and I’m lucky to even be in her presence tonight. I don’t appreciate the way you speak so poorly of her so please stop being the bitter and jealous Aunt that you are.”

Aunt Alice placed a hand on her chest and was struggling to find the words she wanted to say.

You try to stifle a chuckle and cover your mouth. You can’t believe he said that to your aunt.

Levi takes your hand once more and you join together on the dance floor in time for a slow dance.

“Levi you really didn’t have to do any of that. Especially coming out to the dance floor. We had a deal,” you explain your arms around his neck.

Levi shrugs, “If it means I get to see that look on your aunt’s face, I’d do it again.”

You smile, “Thank you.”

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you. You’re a special girl, so I’ll always make an exception,” Levi replies and locks eyes with you.

You can’t help, but blush, “So I’m a beautiful young lady huh?”

Levi’s eyes widen and you swear you see his cheeks get pink, “Was hoping you didn’t catch that. But yes, yes you are.”

You smile and rest your head on his chest, hearing the sound of his heartbeat ever so slightly.

You continue to sway to the music silently with Levi.

“Levi…” You break the silence between the two of you.

“Yes?” Levi asks with small confusion in his voice.

“What are we?” You ask. Recently, Levi and you have gotten really close. Closer than normal, but it’s a good close. You guys are always with each other, and if you’re not then you’re on the phone. You look forward to seeing him and feel butterflies in your stomach when you see him. You always thought Levi was attractive but you have always been best friends. Now it’s different.

Levi gulps, “I don’t know, honestly. I know we’ve always been best friends but I don’t know about you, but I feel like there’s something different.”

You pull away from his chest and look at him. Yes, something is different. “I think we might be stepping into more than best friends territory, Levi.”

Levi chuckles and you see that grin of his, “Yeah I think so too.”

You stare into each other's eyes for a while feeling the tension grow between the two of you.

“Can I kiss you,” Levi blurts out and breaks the tension.

Your heart skips a beat. You nod, “Yes, you can.”

Levi bends down to reach your lips. When your lips connect there’s an explosion like nothing would ever be able to explain. It feels natural. It feels right. It feels perfect.

You pull away first and the song ends. Your foreheads touching, “Wow,” you whisper.

“I think wow is an understatement,” Levi responds with a small laugh.

Levi guides you away from the dancefloor and holds your hand. You glance down and smile. You look up to him once more and he gives you a small smirk.

Maybe this is the one time that it’s okay to break a pinky promise.

[nightingalespen]

Signed L.W

Author's note:

Hi all, I am so excited to share my first fanfic. This is a huge milestone for me, as I have always been an admirer of fanfiction and its writers. The writing process on this particular story has been a true whirlwind of emotions but I am proud of how this first chapter has turned out. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do and I can't wait to share the next few chapters in just a couple of days. I love y'all and hope you like the fic xoxo Nightingalespen 💋💫

Chapter 1 :

The reader enjoys a serene walk in Central Park, captivated by the beauty of the autumn season. They have a chance encounter with a striking silver-haired woman, leaving them intrigued and regretful for not learning more about her. Determined to break free from their mundane routine, they plan to meet their friend Harper for an exciting adventure in the city.

Chapter 1

Reader’s POV~

As you stepped onto the familiar path that meandered through Central Park on a crisp fall day, a steaming cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn't help but smile at the vibrant hues of oranges, yellows, and reds that adorned the surrounding trees. The cool breeze rustled the leaves, creating a mesmerizing symphony that serenaded your every step. With each inhalation, the air carried the unmistakable aroma of decaying leaves, leaving an earthy scent lingering in your nose. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dancing shadows upon the ground, almost as if the trees themselves were eager to join in the autumn festivities. As you took a sip from your warm cup, the soothing liquid traveled down your throat, radiating a comforting warmth throughout your body. The sip of caffeine invigorated your senses, enhancing the already delightful experience of being in the heart of nature. Your eyes wandered as you strolled through the park, capturing snippets of laughter from families playing in the nearby playground and the distant hum of street performers entertaining passersby. More and more people appeared, each reveling in the wonders of the season, clad in cozy sweaters and scarves, their breath forming small, airy clouds in the chilly air.

Lost in the tranquil ambiance of the park, your attention was suddenly diverted as you accidentally bumped into someone. Startled, you looked up to find a striking silver vixen standing before you, her piercing sapphire eyes reflecting the surrounding landscape. She possessed an air of elegance, with every strand of her silver updo meticulously in place. Apologizing for your clumsiness, you couldn't help but notice how this chance encounter punctuated the enchantment of the fall day. The silver vixen seemed to acknowledge your words with a nod, as if understanding your apology. One could say, “She exuded an awe-inspiring elegance, heightened by her extraordinary height. Her attire, a tasteful blend of vintage pieces, bold initials adorning her handbag, her hair impeccably coiffed in a blonde Alfred Hitchock-esque style, asserting its role as an accent to her wardrobe.” For a brief moment, time stood still. As you watched the silver vixen disappear into the distance, an inexplicable pang of regret washed over you. You cursed yourself inwardly for not mustering the courage to inquire about her name, to unravel the mystery behind her presence in the park. How could you let such an extraordinary encounter slip away without even knowing who she was? With a sigh, you continued to navigate through the bustling park, your thoughts consumed by the missed opportunity. As you walked, the crunching of leaves beneath your shoes mirrored the turmoil within your mind. The vibrant colors of fall, once so captivating, now seemed to pale in comparison to the older woman’s allure. 

Larissa’s POV~

As she made her way through the bustling crowd of Central Park, a sudden jolt caused her to stumble backwards. She turned around and lowered her gaze, expecting to find an apologetic face, but instead, she was met with the sight of a young woman, clutching her coffee cup tightly in one hand, her face drawn with worry. It was clear she had been entirely absorbed in her own world, unaware of her surroundings. And in that moment, she couldn't help but become captivated by her.

Her graceful features and youthful energy were truly enchanting. The way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, the mischief that twinkled in her eyes, and the genuine warmth that radiated from her smile all seemed to make her simply adorable. She couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for this young woman who seemed completely lost in her own little world while she clung onto her precious cup of coffee. As she hurriedly apologized for the collision, Larissa reassured her with a simple nod of her head that it was a mere accident, though secretly, she cherished the brief encounter. 

[dystopyx-blog]

It’s moth time baby

Ivo the Io moth.

He’s the delusional archetype. Funnily enough, he is the most sane, rational, and normal one of the group. So excuuuuuse me, princess if he assumes that he’s the one you’re dating! hes just a sane, rational being, and you’re his exhausted partner (exhausted cuz you have to deal with the other freaks)

Another weird delusion is he treats the other moth men like they’re your kids?? You’ll tell the others to knock it off/stop fighting and he’ll come in like “listen to your mother.’ And everyone’s just “???” I imagine business casual attire, medium length hair pulled over one shoulder idk how to describe it…

Appearance: Pretty tall, Kuu and Atlas are just fuckin freaks /hj. 5’9 As I mentioned I have a specific hairstyle in mind but ajsjdhdudnududdi idk man. Wears a simple pale yellow dress shirt, his wings draped behind him. The biggest/fluffiest antenna of all the bois. Soft, kind eyes. Fluff around neck, arms, and legs.

Okay so does anyone know the “sex-crazed moths” meme?

Because my obsessive moth i inspired by that.

Kuu the Luna Moth

the poplar hawk moth is the one associated with that particular meme But I’m using the Lunar moth for my obsessive boyo because fuckin look at it. Luna moths, like the poplar hawk and most other large moths, have no mouth and cannot eat or drink. They fuck then die. My boy Kuu has a moth, but that doesn’t make him any less desperate to get with you. He is the prettiest fuckin boy. And he is so so so fuckin desperate for you. He’s also fuckin pathetic. Pretty boy who’d [REDACTED my blog is all ages!!] if you so much as touch him istg With the other boys he’s an egotistical sassy drama queen but with you he’s just desperate lmao

Appearance: Tall and thin. 5’11 Loooooong white/pale green hair trailing all the way down his back. Man exclusively wears robes and kimonos and the like. Handsome man. PRETTY BOY.

Ash the Cinnabar Moth

Okay actually I’m unsure of possessive I want a bigger moth but also I kinda wanna go with cinnabar moth? Edgy boi who feels entitled to you. Gets into the most fights. Possessive but also kind of tsundere. He is smaller than most of the others, arguably a lot simpler looking too, but he has a BIG personality. His name is Ash.

Appearance: Second smallest. 5’6. Least fluffy. Black hair with a red highlight, black antena. Red pants, black boots. Red bandana on neck. Black leather jacket with red accents. Piercings. Rounded sunglasses. And cinnabar wings ofc.

Atlas the… well, Atlas Moth

heheheheheh i am very basic when it comes to protective type yanderes and i refuse to branch out 🫵🫵🫵 My protective guy is a biiiiiiig big big man, big softy, big teddy bear. Who will hammer someone’s head with his bare fist if they hurt you!!! Wraps you up in massive, soft wings 🥺 He just stands behind you… menacingly (to anyone else, as soon as you turn to look at him he’s all smiles!) So what better than the atlas moth? And Atlas is already a perfect name, so Atlas!

ATLAS: BIIIIIIIG BOY BIG. 6’1 Dorito shaped tbh. Wears flannel but the flannel is the pattern of the moth teehee. Brown pants. Work boots. Gloves probably idk. I think for hair hmmmm braided? Man bun? I dunno!!!

Roman the Rosy Maple Moth!

Finally We have our Manipulator. His name is Roman, but darling pleeeease call him Maple 🥺 The rosy maple moth. He’s just a lil guy! He’s baby! But oooo he’s schemin and plottin. With you he’s just baby, just an absolute delight, and so fuckin cute and fluffy. How could you possibly say no to this soft boy?! But he will tear another’s throat out. He will lie and corrupt and manipulate. He’s secretly incredibly rude, vulgar, and sassy. But with you he’s a perfect angel <3

Appearance: the smallest. Like 5’3. Fluffy yellow and pink hair, bog soft yellow attend, big precious puppy dog eyes. Massive fuckin yellow hoodie that is SUPER fuckin fluffy, with pink sleeves. Smallish pink n yellow wings. The hoodie goes down to like just above his knees. Pink leggings and pink calf high converse.

[misssalvatore1904]

The Original Faery

Prologue

I make my way reluctantly downstairs to where the party has already started. I hate dressing up for parties, but it’s worse now, I am expected to smile and dance and act like my brothers - Stefan and Damon Salvatore - are not dead and my best friend was not burned to ashes for being a vampire.

I disagree with my father often, but when he said that Katherine Pierce was an evil blood sucker, I was ready to kill him. She was kind and understood me in a way no one else did. And for her to be punished for what she is, is wrong. And to kill Damon and Stefan, his own children, for becoming vampires to be with Katherine was so horrendous. I haven’t spoken to Giuseppe Salvatore since the incident.

My anger at my father is not helped by the itchy, monstrous dress a maid forced me into. And the fabric cages that were the shoes that were already chaffing my feet. And when I see him standing at the foot of the stairs, with his cold glare piercing through me, all the anger at my father resurfaces.

“I’m pleased to see you can do one thing right.” He hisses at my as I come to a stop in front of him. He grabs my arm harshly and pulls me close so he can whisper in my ear: “ Embarrass me this evening and I will make sure it is the last thing you do.”

And with that we enter the ballroom as if nothing was wrong.

I sit down on a chair in a dark corner of the room as I let my feet take a break. I had been dancing with young boys my age and my feet were screaming at me to sit down.

I heave a sigh as I sit and think.

“Rough night?”

I whirl at the voice and see a gentleman sitting in a chair close by. He chuckles lightly.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He had a faint European accent, dark brown hair and eyes of a soft hazel green. He looks expectant and I realise dumbly that I have been silent for a good two minutes.

“Sorry. Yes, it’s been what you call a rough night.” I say the last few words bitterly, glaring over at my father. I see him gaze at me curiously out of the corner of my eye. Then he chuckles again.

“Something funny?” I snap, furious that this man finds humour in my discomfort.

“I just thought that you American women were supposed to be well mannered mouth breathing idiots. In no way do you fit this description.”

I can’t help but laugh at this. “ Well I’m not a woman yet, so just you wait.” I reply with a grin. He returns it with a smile of his own, though it’s shaky, as if he hadn’t smiled in a long while.

“I’m Finn Mikaelson by the way.” He says, extending his hand.

“Cassiopeia Salvatore.” I reply as I shake his hand.

I spent the rest of the night sitting and talking with Finn, until my father pulled me away, claiming that I should get to bed, but he was not subtle in the way he looked at me.

He dragged me upstairs to his study and locked the door behind him.

“What did I say about embarrassing me tonight?”

I knew he didn’t want an answer, he was already cemented in his belief that I had somehow tarnished the name Salvatore, but I answered anyway.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Father.” I state.

“You were supposed to be mingling with the boys your age so that I could fix the public image of our family, that your brothers destroyed!” He all but yelled the last words, coming closer with each declaration. “You were supposed to fulfil your only purpose, which is to marry into a rich family and produce heirs. That is all you are good for.” He was right in front of me now and I tried desperately to hold back the tears threatening to fall at his words. “You are however also good at destroying everything you touch!” He shouts at me.

“I’m ten years old!” I shout back. “I shouldn’t be expected to marry, or even fix what you broke. Not Damon or Stefan. But you! You broke this family!”

Then, he slaps me. I cry out in pain.

In a whirlwind he is ripped off me and thrown into the wall. I gape in shock as he falls to the ground, along with the now shattered remains of a few pictures.

Standing before me was Finn Mikaelson, with veins beneath his eyes and the elongated canine teeth. Vampire. But I couldn’t care less about what he was I ran at him and hugged him, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you” I whisper into his shirt.

“You are not afraid?” Finn asks. He seems scared of what my answer could be.

“There are worse monsters in this world.” I mumble. He holds me close as I cry.

Finn compelled my father not to remember this altercation. To only remember me dancing with all the young boys, then retiring to bed for the night.

While my father didn’t remember our argument that night, it didn’t stop him from finding other reasons to punish me.

It only got worse, midnight visits in my room after getting drunk at the bar and claiming that I had embarrassed him or somehow deserved to be punished. So he would take off his belt, and whip my back with it, until my skin hung in ribbons, and the maids had to bandage me up.

Finn and I still saw each other often. Going for lunch or just sitting in the town square and talking. I never mentioned my father’s wrath, or the reason he believed I deserved it.

But I asked Finn to talk about his life. And he regaled me with the stories from when he was human. He told me all about his family and how they became vampires. He told me how his half brother, Niklaus, was the original hybrid, and how he used these mystical daggers on his siblings when he got mad at them. Finn also told me how he had been entrapped by this dagger for almost 700 years before Niklaus decided to free him.

I did tell Finn about what happened to the vampires in this town, and how my brothers were killed for being sympathisers. He was empathetic, revealing that he too has lost a brother and understood my pain.

I was happy. Finn was my escape from the harsh reality I faced when I was at home. And it continued like that for six years. Until Finn disappeared without a trace.

At first I was angry, Finn was my best friend and was always there for me, how could he disappear without at least saying goodbye? But I soon realised that Niklaus must have come for him.

After this revelation, I dedicated my time to tracking Niklaus down. Looking to the witches that lived in the town. But when they couldn’t help me, I turned to the power that ran in my veins, the reason my father hated me. But that too failed me.

As I sat in my room, staring dejectedly out the window, my father came in.

“While you are utterly useless and unlovable, the young Gilbert boy appears to think you a worthy wife.” I must have been going insane because I thought I heard a note of pride in his voice. “His family will be coming over for dinner to discuss.. Arrangements.” He sneers at me “You will finally serve your purpose.”

“No.” My voice was quiet but firm. I wouldn’t let him tell me what to do anymore. “I will not marry a Gilbert.”

“You will do as I say.”

“Why should I? You will never see me as anything more than a reminder of what you have lost. You will never love me, never be proud of me. So I am done. Find another mindless puppet to play with.” As I try and walk past him, he grabs my arm so hard I cry out.

“You will not disobey me.” The pure rage in his eyes scares me to my core. I pushed him too far this time. In my panic I didn’t notice my magic surface, but I could feel it now, like electricity crackling beneath my skin. I felt powerful.

As my father shoved me back to my seat at the window, I exploded. Pure energy escaped me, rushing at the cause of my fear. As my magic made contact with is body, it engulfed him in a storm of fire.

His screams echoed through the house alerting the servants. They rushed up the stairs and they assumed it was the house and not my father that was on fire, they ran at me and helped me out in front of the house.

As I watched my home burn down, with my monster of a father trapped inside, I thought I would feel peace or safety now that the root of my troubles was dead, but all I felt was emptiness. Nothing. I was alone in this world and I had only myself to blame.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story😁

I think I’ll be making a second part to the prologue….

So stay tuned😉

[bluehouryoongi]

BITE ME- 1: The Beginning

Pairing: Jake x Female Reader

Genre: Vampire Enhypen and Human Reader College Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU

Synopsis: Set in present-day Pacific Northwest US. Y/n in a college student, and keeps to herself. One day, she has strange encounters with two statuesque men, one of which invites her to a party (at their mansion ofc) where she drunkenly confesses that she can't pay her rent. Vast and highly believable events ensue, leading to her live with 7 a-little-too-perfect guys. That's all you need to know.

Chapter Summary:

A short baby first chapter because getting things started is hard. I promise y/n is not insufferably annoying, our girl is struggling for the first few chapters. Her badassery comes with time, promise;)

← Masterlist – Next→

PROLOGUE:

It’s already looking like it’s going to be a cold, dark winter. That comes with the territory of living in the Pacific Northwest, however it is still hard to combat the seasonal blues. Over the years, I have floated between friend groups, never quite sticking with one. Everyone always seems to be better friends with each other than they are with me. That’s okay, though. I like to keep to myself, it’s easier that way. I grew up being close with my family, never feeling the lack of friends. When I got the opportunity to come to this University to study English Literature on a hefty scholarship, I had no choice but to move 6+ hours away from them. It’s been almost 3 years here, and I am still getting by on my own. I have my cousin Gracie, who, although lives across the country from me, still texts me everyday and Facetime's me every few. School keeps me busy, and when I am not holed up in the library writing papers, I am working at a local bookstore Mont Blanc Books. My life is simple, and I am going to do my best to keep it that way. Why do I have a strange feeling this dark season might bring along new changes to that simplicity as well?

CHAPTER 1:

Of course it would start raining as I walked out of my class. Of course I did not bring an umbrella. Fast walking awkwardly with my head down, it is. Damn, is the water literally falling horizontally from the sky? Why is every single droplet hitting my eyes right now? I settle into a quick rhythm, weaving through any of the students who actually brought an umbrella today and are taking their sweet time down the path. I look up for a split second, just in time to ram right into the chest of someone.

“Oh my god,” I say, stopping in my tracks but not quite looking up to examine who I ran into. These raindrops are still threatening to pierce my vision.

“Sorry, I think that was my fault” says the voice. A light accent coating the words.

Wait, I know that voice. I look up, just in time to make the connection that the person I just collided with is Jake. As in, the ever elusive and yet somehow still painfully charming Jake. We took a Romantic Era Literature class together last semester, and of course he always had thoughtful insights to add to the class. I couldn’t just chalk him up to being some annoying jerk who ran through girlfriends almost as quickly as I was just fast walking. No, he actually could somehow be both a mysterious playboy and a dedicated student who said things like; “Frankenstein's monster could have lived among the humans, it's just everyone was too scared to ever see past his intimidating exterior”.

Yes I can quote things he said in class. No, we don't need to think further about that.

At the moment, I am still staring awkwardly at him and thinking about everything except what I will say next. So instead, I do what I always do. Laugh when it is unnecessary to fill the silent void. I also notice that I am not feeling any rain, because Jake is holding an umbrella over himself and (now,) me. I stand up straight and say;

“Nope, definitely my fault.” Cue another awkward chuckle on my end. “I should have been looking where I was going…it's just this rain seems to be out to get me today and-”

“It's fine. No harm done, really” Of course he's nice in real life too, and not just in front of professors.

“Thanks. Well, I’m gonna just…go.” Wow. You would think I have read enough books to be able to have a normal conversation with a devilishly handsome boy, and yet here I am.

“Take this,” he says, holding out the umbrella.

“Oh no, that’s not necessar-” before I can finish he starts walking away, in the direction I came.

I stand dumbfounded for a moment. Looking ahead of me, and then realizing the shock also took away my manners, I turn around and start saying “thank you!” but he’s gone. Weird. The walkway is straight, with no other paths crossing into it where he could have turned. He just…disappeared. Whatever. I am cold and wet and would like to be in my car now. As I walk, I replay the interaction over and over in my head.

—

I clock in for my shift at Mont Blanc. It is a Thursday night, which means it should be pretty quiet. We don’t get a ton of foot traffic as it is, but especially not on weeknights. As I sit behind the front desk, I pull out my current read: Dracula. We are reading it in my Bookworms of the PNW group for November. We have already read Twilight (which was my pick because, duh. Classic.) and Carmilla over the past couple of months. We are clearly on a vampire kick. Next we are reading Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice. It felt fitting, as it’s feeling more and more like winter. Plus we all like to compare hot vamps and discuss the lore. I have always loved gothic literature. There's something about reading books about monsters who are also human that will always get me.

After about thirty minutes of reading, the bell signaling the door opening rings. I look up, and it's a tall boy with white-blonde hair. I recognize him from campus; he’s hard to miss. He's gorgeous, and has an energy about him that you can’t forget. Not to mention the fact that he and his 6 other brothers are well known among the school for being the most attractive, most popular, and throwing the best parties. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they are actually all brothers. Considering the fact that they are all the same age and don’t all look alike. Hm. I will have to investigate that further later. Me and my cousin, who I rant to about anything and everything, have started calling them 'the statues'. It was birthed after I was explaining how they literally look like they are made of porcelain, or glass. It doesn't seem humanly possible to look so effortlessly cool, but who am I to judge that.

“Welcome in!” I say.

He nods, and smiles. Walking up to the counter, slightly leaning on it towards me.

“Looking for anything in particular today?” I ask.

“No, just…wanted to look.” He is staring at me a bit intensely. I don’t feel uncomfortable, just very…seen.

“Alright! Well, let me know if you need any help.” I expect him to start looking around the store, but instead, he cocks his head to the side and examines me further.

Weird. “Have we met before?” I ask. Damn, conversations are not coming easy to me today.

“No. I’m Sunoo, although I believe we go to the same University.”

“Oh!” Yeah, I knew that already. Let’s not seem creepy, though. “ Yeah, I think I have seen you around a couple times. I’m Y/n.”

He smiles. I smile. Somehow, I don’t feel awkward. There’s a kindness about him.

“I love your hair. Delicious color. Not many can pull it off.” He says.

Interesting choice of words. I’m flattered though and chuckle, running my hands through it as if to say ‘oh this old hair?’.

“Thanks! It's my favorite color.”

My hair is dyed a deep red. In most lighting, it just looks black. If the sun or a light hits it just right, though, you can tell.

“I could say the same about yours! It’s giving jack frost in the least weird way possible.” I say before I can think about it further. I internally cringe at myself.

He just laughs, and smiles. “You’re funny. I like you.” He lightly points at me as he says this. I just smile in response because, thanks? “Hey…if you're not busy tomorrow night we are having a party at my place. You should come by. Lots of music, people, booze…”

Not to play the ‘i'm not like other girls’ card, but I really don’t do college parties. However, something about Sunoo makes me want to say yes. I also may or may not be thinking about Jake and how he will most definitely be there. I just need to return the umbrella, okay? Plus, these boys are well known around the University for having the biggest ragers. Professors practically expect the reason students will miss a monday morning 8am class is because of them. We don’t have “greek life” at my University, however these 7 boys are the closest thing we have to a fraternity. If I were to explain their persona in just a few words it would be “clean frat boys”. Far too put together and academically driven to be real frat bros, however they always have different girls at their sides. Like I said-statues.

“Cool! That sounds…super fun” I try and sound like this wouldn’t be my first college party.

He smiles, clearly seeing right through me. He reaches out to the stack of post-its on the desk and grabs a pen from the cup next to it. He starts writing something down, which I come to see is the address.

“Great. See you tomorrow then?” He asks.

“Yep, I’ll be there!” I try not to sound too eager, but also how should you respond when someone you have never interacted with shows up and randomly invites you to a party?

He stops leaning on the counter and walks to the door. He looks back once more and grins, to which I smile back. I look down at the post-it with the address. It is then that I realize he came in and never looked around. Strange. He wouldn’t have come just to invite me to the party, right?

What a weird, weird day.

[jakexneytiri]

Ask no further!! Here it is, yours truly the humble narrator for you this morning!!! Its kind of long cause I dream writers-style and it sucks-lol

----------

It was late, my eyes prying open as I pulled my head up and off the metal surface, the digital clock upon my desk burning bright with red digits. '6:47AM'  The numbers looked like a throbbing headache, this being what my mind registered as the fifth time I'd checked to see if I had finished my paperwork. One page, crinkled and half written, remained before me. I could see the blur in my eyes before I realized multiple tears had began to fall out of frustration, my voice echoed within my mind, frustration apparent to myself. 'I've been here hours! Why does this shit keep coming!?'  My hands came up to wipe my eyes, the stress steaming off of me through the lab coat I had resting over me. "I've walked by here four times already.." A voice all too familiar to me spoke, Texan accent ringing as I turned to peer over my monitor. "Wha..?" I blinked, readjusted my glasses to sit straight on the bridge of my nose, "Uh, a-are you looking for someone?" I was partially aware of what could happen, my dreams usually had a way of letting me know how I could shift a situation.

I ignored them all, totally enamored by how much detail was put into such a lucid one. The colonel looked like he'd just gotten back from a mission, wifebeater stained in bluish-red blood that trailed down to his dirt-stained cargo pants, it looked brutal. "Aren't you one of the science pukes that actually knows how to care for the avatar bodies?" It wasn't for what my mind had concurred, I cursed myself. "Are you done with your plant bullshit yet, I don't have all damn night?!" He sneered, obviously becoming impatient, which caused me to stand quickly, blatantly ignoring my desk head of hair and indents from how I'd passed out. "I'm sorry, here, come on this way to the back." I tried to sound less intimidated, less bitchy, less attitude that I usually give. (Believe me, fuck with me about sleep I'll end your life.)

As I gloved up, winding around the table that the tall creature chose to sit on, I snuck glances at him, watching his movements to reveal his state of undress to me. It was large, the wound, a gash about the length of my whole arm from shoulder to fingertip and it was lightly oozing blood. "What did this? Viper-Wolf?" It was a shot in the dark, but the gash had ridges, "Yeah, after I was chased by some god-damn monkeys.." His voice grumbled, the vibration falling down and through my hands as I cleaned the dried blood off. As for my response, I only hummed, not too sure what he'd want in return other than a reason to get upset or worse. Soon I was finally ready to begin stitching the wound, the needle in it's curve softly pierced his flesh and he hissed, low, pained with a small grunt. His gaze burned so harshly into the top of my head that I could feel my brain melting inside, his large hand coming to roughly pat down its hold onto my shoulder as I threaded through him for the fifth time, tugging the clear string lightly back to hear him purr, "Good girl.." from the depths of his chest, "Take your time.." I swallowed audibly, gaining further anxiousness while my hands aimed the tool back and shifted it through him again.

___Visual Cutscene___ (Ill cut the banter short babies- But yeah, I'm a smartass and that's why were here now-)

Soon, I found myself pinned between him and the medical table, the metal tinging slightly with every time my lab coats buttons brushed against the table-legs. My thighs had been hoisted up and gripped at the knee, folding me roughly in half against the plush of my breasts almost enough to hurt due to the pressure against my lungs. His grin imprinted itself in my head, I whimpered at the sight of his eyes narrowing at me, challenging me to peer down ever so slightly to see the sight of something so incredibly large that my head would turn to putty at just the tip.. "Still think you're tough shit, princess?" He teased, head poking lightly at my thigh through my tights, which had been ripped during the process of his manhandling, his shaft trailed down to the tear at my entrance, the slick already unbearably wet and coating everything. "Always will, until proven wrong.." I replied, face still cherry red. "Good.." He drawled, finally plunging into me, my vision instantly going white-

THEN I FUCKING WOKE UP!!!!!

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!!

OH MY GOD?????????? I WISH I COULD REMEMBER MY DREAMS THIS VIVIDLY BC FUCK

[satellite-runner]

The significance of the color red (the venom siblings)

[Tw's: Canon typical violence, misgendering, child neglect? I physically couldn't bare looking at this thing any longer and it's already been like a month since I said I'd post it. I didn't even finish it but I figured I'd just post what I have. Sorry that if its formated badly and the grammar/punctuation is off, i only have my phone to write and post on. Ive also never posted fanfiction online before so theres that to]

Everyone knows the venom siblings both include red as part of their primary colors.

What most don’t know is why they do.

Party Poison had striking red hair and matching makeup on their neck. The hair was done first, long before the iconic red splatter over their jugular. Poison doesn’t like to think of themselves as an attention seeker, more like they drew attention. they couldn’t control it, eyes constantly on them whether they liked it or not; especially in their first few years in the zones, it caused a lot of trouble. They needed to fly under the radar. Fresh out of the city, barely fighting off Dracs coupled with the desert heat and starvation, they couldn’t afford to be the one flame moths were drawn to. For a long time, they thought they were cursed. It caused them unimaginable grief. Getting them in rumbles and duels before they even knew how to shoot proper but somehow surviving.

They knew when they were just Juvie Halls, Kobra had a psychology book on the effects different colors had on the mind. Poison wasn’t all that interested in reading but Kobra was. He loved books, once he got his hands on any book of any genre, he wouldn’t put it down until he finished. The psychology book being one of the first few non-city regulation books the young boy had, he spoke about it a lot. It was clear Kobra liked the color red the most, he talked about it constantly and mostly its effects. Red meant plenty of things: love, anger, passion, hatred, desire, strength, anxiety, help and danger. One thing that struck the siblings about the color was that it was always loud. It screamed in need of attention, it was yelling to everyone, “Look at me! Look at me!”

Once they landed a semi-permanent home with Dr. D, Cherri Cola, and Show Pony, Poison  found themselves bored. They’d spend only Witch knows how long looking at their appearance, the urge to change becoming insatiable. They felt too city-like. It was clear they were green, with a city accent and no proper sense of zone fashion, plain brown hair and no tattoos or piercings. They were painfully plain. They couldn’t stand it, seeing themselves in any kind of reflective surface, it made them sick (they later learned that was also related to their gender dysphoria but lets smooth over that for now). So for the next supply run, they asked Pony to find them some bleach and red hair dye. They felt a bit dirty, stealing Kobra's favorite color right out from under him, but he reassured them that it was okay. Despite turning to Pony about their problem with their appearance, they couldn't stand having the person to also help with the dyeing process. So they got Kobra to do it, under Pony’s careful instructions. After all that, their hair was shaggy and their scalp burnt– but their hair was firetruck red. They couldn't find Kobra any gloves to wear so his hands were just as red, the color staining both of their souls permanently. Poison spent so long staring at themselves in their shitty, broken mirror, transfixed by the fact that the color felt so much like them. Eventually, Kobra had to drag them out of the bathroom, making Poison realize that the matching stain on Kobra’s skin made red feel like the both of them.

The vibrant color felt fitting, their outward appearance finally matched with their skill to draw attention. Now it was them that visibly screamed, “Look at me! Look at me! I'm rebelling!” Of course, the dyed hair took away any chance they had to live life peacefully as a neutral. the vibrancy went so far against Bli’s black and white that it was a death sentence. They weren’t bothered about it though, they wouldn’t have been able to live with themselves if they complied with Bli’s rules out in the desert instead of inside their walls, they needed to rebel.

Dyed hair was symbolic no matter where you lived, even just highlights would get you re-educated inside the city. In neutral towns, you could get away with a blonde streak or two but color was still a large no-no. But with killjoys? Neon was the norm. Dyed hair, bright clothes, painted vehicles, painted guns, graffiti. You couldn't step into killjoy territory without seeing so many colors your head would hurt. Once again color screams, and it screamed, “Look at me! Look at me! I'm not alone! We are rebelling! We made these dyes and paint! We are rebelling!”

The red stain of Poison’s hair dye on Kobra's hands was not the first piece of red symbolism he took on. He’d taken a shine to the color early on, finding its brightness captivating. 

He knew Poison was always the center of attention; always catching eyes and turning heads, always being sought out for advice and reassurance. People looked up to Poison, but overlooked Kobra. He was mostly okay with this, seeing just how crushing the weight of the attention Poison received could be. But sometimes, he just wished to be the one they looked at. He was skilled and smart too! Just because he was younger didn’t mean he was useless! 

When they got into the zones, Kobra was just a boy. He was barely ten and still unsure of his own pronouns, letting people call him a girl, never speaking up about the horrible churning pain it stirred in his chest. He could ignore it if he distracted himself enough, if he used everyone's lack of attention on him to his advantage. 

They hopped from crew to crew often, no one was willing to take in two kids so young and unwieldy. Poison was loud, clumsy and angry. Kobra was virtually mute, standoffish and suffocating to be around. It left all the attention to Poison, like always. By the third or fourth crew they passed through, Kobra had the perfect system for swiping things from them. Poison would inevitably do something that needed everyone’s undivided attention and no one would notice the little girl slipping his tiny hands in their pockets or bags, rifling through and stealing anything with a significant amount of red on it. Poison knew Kobra did this but could never find a reason to force him to stop. He didn’t take anything important and most of the time, the crew wouldn’t even notice anything was missing until after the siblings were already gone. they never suspected the innocent little girl and Poison was just too boisterous to steal anything without immediately giving themselves up.

A few years later, the siblings stumbled upon the radio shack. After a few weeks of observation, it was impossible for Dr. D to not notice the boy's obsession with the color. There were a lot of things that were impossible to miss about the boy, actually. He was almost always non-verbal for one and he was scary smart for a kid his age. He was standoffish and shy, not telling anyone much about himself other than the fact he was not a girl (which was more so said through Poison but Dr. D liked to count it anyway) but he was also polite, thoughtful and scared. The poor boy was terrified. It took Doc a few weeks and a lot of gentle prodding to learn he was so scared because they’ve never stayed in one place for so long.

It wasn’t surprising, it wasn't shocking, instead it was sad. The kid was well into his teens at fourteen years of age and never settled into one spot for more than two months, hell, the boy knew every zone like the back of his hand simply because he had lived in every inch of sand the desert had to offer. Neither of the siblings ever had a home or a crew to call their own. It was then and there Doc decided he’d do anything he could for the siblings, care for them until they found their own crew, spend every last carbon he had on them for them to realize that they were worth it, until they understood he wanted to keep them around.

It was a no-brainer to look for red clothing the next supply run he went on.

He was beyond delighted when he found two (mostly) red jackets that seemed right up Kobra's alley. He picked up a few zonemade sketchbooks and pens at Tommy Chow Meins for Poison, so it didn't look like he favored Kobra over them. 

When he got back to the radio shack, Kobra and Poison were on the floor. Poison was laying on their back talking animatedly to Kobra as he sat about a foot away, listening. Kobra was very good at listening, especially when it was Poison talking.

"You two! C'mere!" He gestured towards the siblings, waving them over to where he stood in the middle of the room. The pair got up excitedly (well, Kobra looked more confused than excited) after seeing Doc holding something behind his back, out of their view. 

He'd found two red gift bags to package the presents in, figuring the color suited the both of them just fine. He found both of them rocked on the balls of their feet when waiting. 

"I got you two some gifts!" he grinned, pulling the bags from behind his back, presenting them to the siblings.

The young 'joys looked at him apprehensively, with Kobra even taking a half step back. It took a few words of reassurance for them to take the bags let alone open them at all.

Poison reacted first, gasping when they pulled out the twine tied pack of pens and a few handmade sketchbooks. They practically squealed, tackling Doc into a hug that he happily returned. He was so distracted by the older venom sibling that he didn't notice Kobra putting on the lighter weighted jacket of the two.

The jacket was too big, engulfing the boy’s body. It was a windbreaker. Zipping up to the chin, the sleeves and lower half a faded red with an upper panel of mustard yellow that started at the chest and went up to the chin. Truly Dr D didn't know the boy's sensory issues with clothing, so  he'd gone over the common things like no tags or feelable threads or seams. Past that, he had no clue if Kobra liked the fabric, the zipper or the noise it made when moving. He'd just hoped he could find someone who liked the jackets if Kobra didn't.

Kobra twisted and turned in the jacket, getting a sense of what it was like. The zip going all the way up to his jaw was weird, though not a feeling he couldn't get used to. It was baggy, an adult jacket was indeed unfit for a malnourished teen. But he adored the colors, the yellow matched with his bleached hair perfectly, the red just a few shades lighter than Poison’s ‘in your face’ red. The sleeves and waist were cuffed with fabric that was softened with time, making him feel secure in the article of clothing. 

He felt like lightning had been shot through him, coming out in the flapping of his hands and the chewing of his bottom lip. The jacket concealed his horribly feminine figure, the colors were eye-catching but not overwhelming. Instead, he got the immense feeling to never take the jacket off, it felt like the missing piece of the puzzle he was looking for. It was staggering. 

Doc looked back to the younger sibling, finding him to be stimming up a storm. The jacket suited him surprisingly well, the faded hues blending well with his hair and skin tone. Doc could easily see the boy growing into the jacket and have it become an easy part of his iconic killjoy outfit.

It took a lot of convincing for Kobra to try on the other jacket. This jacket was all red and much heavier, thicker, stuffier and once again far too large. 

Doc hummed in thought, looking over the 'joy.

"It's a motorbike jacket, we gotta get you a bike to go with it," he said casually. In passing just to wipe the confusion of both the siblings' faces. They all still understood it as a promise, they would get him a bike to go with it.

Dr D watched with pride as Kobra took to the first jacket immediately, wearing it every day he could. A year or two later, after they'd found him a sketchy city surgeon to give him top surgery and supply him with HRT, Kobra reinstated his love for the jacket as he filled it out with some muscle. The jacket no longer swamped him and hid his figure, the tighter fit brought him a constant sense of confidence and security. 

Kobra's name grew from being unheard of to being whispered in alleyways, his reputation in duels and rumbles turned heads. People started to recognise him by his iconic jacket, bleached hair and sunglasses. People started to know who he was, when walking past a deck o’ cards, it wasn’t only his sibling who was spoken about in admired, hushed words. 

When Kobra and Poison were grown, with two close friends, Doc was sure they'd run off with to start a crew of their own. They celebrated their final zone birthday before Doc had to watch his first two permanent strays leave him behind (it was dramatic, 

 he'd still have Pony living him with and 'joys from all over the zones popping in and out) 

Zone birthdays were important for city borns. Zone birthdays were for the fortunate bats that made it for more than a year in the desert, an anniversary of the day they escaped Bli’s black and white life and making it to the zone's neon. Dr D knew he'd have to make this one a big one, give them the biggest presents he could before they were suddenly gone, not filling the Radio Shack with excited laughter, ramblings, fights and endless creativity. He'd miss those venom kids.

Doc left for a week to secure Kobra’s present, leaving Poison’s present to Pony (he put his trust into them, knowing they always had luck on their side) 

He left Cherri in charge, being the second oldest (which really wasn't that far ahead of the siblings) and slightly more responsible than Pony. Cherri was much more laid back than the Doc, less strict on the rules, basically letting the 'joys do whatever they liked as long as they didn't die or leave any evidence behind to a crime.

That's how the venom siblings ended up drunk on Zonemead, rambling to the poor guy about anything and everything. As it often did, their conversation gradually drifted to the color red and its significance. That piqued Cherri’s interest, because it lit up Kobra’s face (his eyes widened slightly, the biggest facial expression he'd make these days) and his hands curled in the thick fabric of his pants.

The topic stuck, going over psychology, theory and speculation. They came to one conclusion, red was important. It was a stable of not only the desert, killjoys and revaluation, but life in general. Cherri could vividly describe to you the suffocating feeling of being around something larger than you. The feeling that always choked him up after having a long conversation with the venom siblings. 

While Cherri was primarily there to keep everyone alive and well, his job was to also distract them. The presents they were getting weren't exactly easy to conceal as time goes on. 

Doc always got discounts, no matter where he went. He was the only zone-wide radio host, keeping everyone company on their best and worst days. He was every 'joy’s friend, everyone knew his name and radio station number by heart. For many lone wolves, he was the only friend they had. He wasn't shocked when he got to the shop where he ordered Kobra’s custom bike and they immediately docked the price so heavily it cost the same as a box of power pup. It helped that everyone knew who Kobra Kid was. He pretended not to notice the 'joy getting starry eyed at the mention of the boy, for their sake.

Pony was admittedly running late on Poison’s present. They hadn't actually thought about anything to get the red head, just trusting that they'd stumble across something perfect like they always did. It was a day and half after Doc left and they still haven't done much more than hop couches and wander the zones like they always did. The crew they were running with for the day was familiar, a young crew who had been hanging around the radio station every now and again. 

"Pony!" One of them yelled out, a pink haired boy who went by Sandman.

"Yes, darlin'?" They hummed, skating over to where the 'joy had been rummaging through a few dilapidated buildings. Pony hadn't bothered joining, their skates not faring too well through the rubble, they didn't fancy eating concrete that particular day. 

"I think there's something shiny you might like there," he grinned back, sweeping his arm to a rusted garage. Maybe the buildings once belonged to a neutral village, there wasn't enough color for it to point towards it being a killjoy village and the architecture looked plain. 

Pony rolled over to the entrance, leaning over to peak under the roller door that Sandman forcefully pried open moments prior.

What they saw, they'd have never expected to see out in the dregs of zone 5. A car, dusty and half covered with a sheet that Sandman had clearly just moved. It was a nice car, sleek and looked like it was once well looked after. Pony wasn't a motorhead, they couldn't have told you what kind it was but it really was shiny.

"Wow, a Trans am! Haven't seen one of those in real life before!" Another 'joy in the crew whistled, his coily hair bouncing around his head. He ducked under the garage door, marvelling at the vehicle.

The familiar thing in Ponys chest clicked, they knew they'd found the right present. They sent a quick 'thank you' to the deities before ducking under the door themselves. 

Just like that, a few days of work on the car and Doc's tedious journey back with a new bike, they secured both the venom siblings a shiny new vehicle for their fresh start.

Birthday parties always worked the same in the radio shack. It'd be done in the lounge, where there was the most space. They'd wrapped and wheeled Kobras present into the room, and had just wrapped the keys to Poison's car tightly up in a box. The siblings always had a race to open their presents first, the wrapping getting more intricate and difficult over the years. 

The siblings got blindly placed in front of their presents, Jet's hands covering Kobras eyes and Ghoul's covering Poisons.

Both the presents were wrapped wildly, layers of tape, paper, wire, anything they could get their hands on to make the packaging impossible to tear open quickly. The venom siblings always knew how to get through it anyway, finding which string to pull and what wire to rip. 

They were both rocking on the balls of their feet as everyone counted down, excitement thrumming through their veins. 

As soon as Doc yelled 'go!' They were scrambling. Poison threw themselves onto their knees, pulling the little box onto their lap and throwing off the first layer of newspaper. Kobra had immediately wrapped his hands into the first layer, snagging some string underneath. They were both much too busy trying to win the race to think about what their gifts may be, neither even so much as glancing at the other's present. 

The room was full of screaming and cheering, incoherent yells of names and directions. Kobra felt his heart rise into his throat as his fingers met a white sheet. They always used fabric as the final layer between the wrapping and the present, to try ensure no damage was done to the actual gift in the onslaught. He heard poison scream next to him, so he assumed they'd hit the fabric as well. He desperately clawed the fabric away, only to be left utterly speechless despite the overwhelming noise around him.

It was a motorbike. Not a city one either, a real honest to Witch zone made motorbike. It was painted a shiny blood red.

Poison furrowed their brow as they tore open the box, throwing the fabric covering the small item inside. They were faced with a pair of keys. They looked handmade and a bit junky, like most keys were in the zones. It took them a long moment to realize it was a set of car keys. The ribbon holding them together was a faded red. 

[draventhedemon]

Apocalypse Au! Dsmp

Warnings: Gore and curse words

Part 1

(This will also be on my Wattpad if you're interested in some of my other content, my username is draventhedemon just like on Tumblr btw, I guarantee you'll love it!)

Dsmp X Reader

A/n) Y/n doesn't have a canon age so ship yourself with whoever you want!

(Y/n's Journal entry number 727)

It's been almost 2 years since the beginning of this apocalypse.

The smp had fallen into chaos after the gods left. The sky went red, the mobs mutated, our oceans boiled and the clouds are filled with acid.

I don't know who survived but all I know is that the last few months have been rough on me. I had been fighting off charged creepers near the crater of L'manburg about 3 months back. One of them exploded and knocked me into the large hole. I tumbled down while the rocks and vines pulled at my skin. And I screamed as I felt a sharp pain shoot through my leg.

I landed with a loud thud and I looked down to see my bone sticking out of my calf. Thank god it was my only injury but I had no shelter and I was bleeding heavely. And my wounds would surely get infected if I stayed in that crater any longer.

I screamed for help for what seemed like hours. Until I heard a voice from behind me, the familiar thick british accent of Tommy. He looked at me like I was the first person he saw alive in years, and it had turned out that he'd been living down there since the beginning of all this shit. And after he pull me into his shelter he helped me make a splint to help with my broken bone.

He had lost his netherite armor and now walks around in an unenchanted iron armor. The only diamond thing on him was his sword and axe.

But that was months ago and just last week I healed up to the point of me being able to help him around the base. And sometimes maybe even raid some buildings near the crater.

Today were going to try and find one of the Smp's old communicators. See if there's anyone out there and hopefully meet up with them if there are survivors.

Wish us luck!

-Y/n L/n

"Are you almost done writing in you're diary?!" Tommys voice cuts through the silence.

"for the last time, it's a journal." You roll your eyes as you put the book away and pull yourself up to stand. "Whatever you say" he holds up his hands defensively before turning around to pick up his sword. He puts it back in his sheath and leans down to pick up his shield that had somehow fallen. "So, where are we going?"

You ask before walking past the child and out to the front. "I was hoping to go to Erets castle, it would most definitely have a communicator in his office. If anyone hadn't already taken it of course!" Tommy plots as you pick up your Iron axe from the ground and put it on your belt.

You both walk towards a wall from the crater and begin to climb up the vines. "Why haven't you built a latter yet Tommy!" You playfully shout as you guys make your way up. "Do you see any wood in that crater?!" He shouts back as you shrug and continue to climb.

"Don't grab that root!" He shouts up at you. "Why not?" You look down and smile. "Unless you wanna have another broken bone I suggest you grab that one!" He points at the next vine over as he takes the lead and passes you. "Thanks Tom!" You say as he reaches the top.

He pulls you up and once you get to the top you begin to see the former glorious smp you called home.

Through a hoard of mutated skeletons.

"OH SHIT!" Tommy shouts as he pulls his sword from his sheath and runs past the skeletons as fast as possible. You look around before running in a different direction from Tommy. You feel an arrow pierce your shoulder before you find cover behind a large rock.

"shit shit shit" you mumble as you pull the arrow from your arm, you drop it onto the floor before taking your axe from your belt.

And before you ask why you couldn't just kill them in one simple blow. It's because Mutated skeletons have now gained the skill of perfect accuracy. And now have the power to put themselves back together after being ripped apart. And that doesn't even begin to explain the fact that they have learned to poisen their arrows.

You feel a lightheaded sensation flow through you before you take off to try and get to the castle. You just barely make it as you go to shut the door closed and suddenly hear. "Y/n! Wait!" Tommy shouts from in the distance. He has the hoard of skeletons following him and you just barely hold the door open long enough for him to slid in.

"holy shit," he pants "that was terrifying!" He shouts as he takes a knee and digs through his bag to pull out his flask of water. You begin to barricade the door as Tommy pulls himself together.

"ok, uh" he coughs before he continues, "you used to hang out with Eret a lot, take us to his office" he looks up at you with your hand out stretched for him to grab onto. He takes your hand with a smile and pulls himself off the ground. "Thanks" he smiles a bit before you begin walking through the abandoned halls.

The floors are covered in dirt, blood and guts. With a stench that makes you never want to smell anything again. The walls are covered with destroyed paintings and pride flags. Your frightened to know if the blood is from some sort of monster of if it's from one of your former friends.

"this place smells awful" Tommy mumbles before he looks at you and shouts "are you ok?!?" At the sight of your shoulder wound.

"I'm fine for now, just find me a healing potion after this" you put on a forced smile before you open the door of queen Erets office. "Tada!" You smile as he bolts in and begins rummaging through drawers and papers. "They wouldn't put that on his desk dumbass!" You mumble as his head bolts up to look at you "pardon!? I think I know what I'm doing! Since I'm not the one with a shoulder wound, and also I'm much more-". His rambles are cut short as you pull a portrait of the King down from the wall to reveal a safe behind it.

"you were saying?" You smirk as he flips out and jumps over the desk to get to you. "Open it! open it! open it!" He shouts loudly as you walk back over and start opening the safe. "Never question me again" you state as you put in the last number and open it to find Erets crown inside, along with some swiftness and healing potions, and 5 gapples. But behind it all you find 2 old communicators, "I DID IT!" Tommy shouts as He raises his hand in the air as if he was asking for a high five.

"I'm only high-fiving you if you give me some credit" you smirk as you pocket the items and pop open one of the healing potion for the wound. "Fine, you did good Y/n" he says sarcastically, "damn right" you smile before drinking the potion and lifting your hand up to give Tommy a high five. He smiles as you both get up and move back towards the desk.

You click on the communicator to hear static, you begin going through the VC'S to try and find someone you knew. "Hello? This is Y/n L/n I'm at Erets castle and I need to know if anyone's out there". You say as clearly as you can as you continue flipping through the channels. "Hello? This is Y/n L/n I'm at Erets castle and I need to know if any-" you go to speak again but suddenly hear.

"Holy shit, your alive?!" Another British accent goes through the communicator. "WILBUR!" Tommy pierces your eardrums as he screams through the communicator. "Wow I didn't miss that" you hear Wilbur mumble before continuing with "I thought I was the only one left, I've been in Pogtopia for a couple days now. I tried to leave but it seems like a creeper exploded the entrance and caused it to cave in." Wilbur explained and he rambles on about the fact that Pogtopia had become practically a home base for every creeper in existence. He was joking of course but you still took it seriously due to the craziness of the outside world.

"Wilbur, I'm so glad to hear your voice but do you have any plan on how to get out of Pogtopia?" You ask sincerely, "well yes, but that would require a lot of TNT and I'm afraid I don't have enough sand" you can hear his grin at the mention of TNT.

"ok, were gonna go and try to get to you. Just give us a days time." You say as he hums in response before you hear the noise of him turning off is communicator. "Welp, at least were not alone anymore." You smile as you turn and tackle hug Tommy. "Someones alive! There's still hope!" You yell as you tightly hold each other in your arms. "We gotta gather supplies! We gotta get him outta there!" You pull apart and begin to plan his escape.

(1 hour of planning later)

You and Tommy have both mapped out your route to Pogtopia from the castle. From experience we tell each other which way would have the least amount of mobs. And the fact that you need to be extra careful and be quiet about halfway through the mile walk due to a hoard of mutated zombies being close by.

You exit the castle with everything you could collect from inside and begin walking to Pogtopia. Tommy starts a few light chats and you make a couple dirty jokes that make you both laugh. The walk takes about an hour and makes your legs feel like Jello by the end of it but it's all worth it when Pogtopia gets in your sight. The entire entrance is covered with tons and tons of rubble and dirt. But that's not the thing the worries you. The thing that worries you is the 5 charged mutated creepers sitting right outside the cave.

"fuck!" Tommy mumbles as you both huddle behind a tree and think out the next step of your plan. "We can always try to lure them away?" You whisper to Tommy "no! because we need one of those bastards to explode near the entrance to get Wilbur out!" Tommy whispers back as you turn back and see the creepers are beginning to spread out.

"ok, then we fight! They'll explode and we'll get him out of the cave that way!" You say to Tommy before turning back to see him mumbling to himself. "Now that there mutated they explode once killed correct?" He asks as you nod your head. "I have an idea" he mumbles as he looks through his bag and pulls out an enderchest. He place's it down and pulls out a Bow and Arrow

"You only decide to use that now!?!" You whisper yell as he looks at you and says. "I only have 1 arrow" in response. "Then let me shoot it, I'm an expert shot. I was practically an assassin for Eret!" You say as he thinks it though and looks at the bow then to you.

"alright, but you better not miss!" He raises a finger at you and looks at you with a stern gaze. "You need to shoot them in the eye, it's the only way they'll die in one blow-" he goes to say but he sees you ignore him as you turn around point the bow. landing a killing shot on the Creeper Closest to the entrance. The one explosion causes a chain reaction to explode every other creeper nearby. Your ears ring as the ground shakes and rubble is flown through the air.

You open your eyes to see the doorway now open to Pogtopia. "Don't tell me how to do my job" you mumble before handing him his bow and walk towards the entrance. "Wilbur! Get out before the whole cave comes down!" You shout into the cave as you hear the noise of Wilbur's shoes running towards the entrance.

His outfit has changed since the last time you saw him. His jacket is ripped and has blood splattered on it, he's gained more scars and he has his guitar at his back, his sweater has multiple patches horribly holding it together, a sword by his side. And the white streak in his hair is almost gone due to the amount of dirt on him.

"so you finally decided to get a sword!" Tommy jokes as Wilbur's eyes adjust to the new light of the outside world. "Well I didn't wanna die ya little shit" Wilbur smiles and hugs his brother as tightly as he can before pulling away and doing the same to you. "So, were have you guys been staying?" He asks with a grin.

To be continued...

[zeniblesstsu]

Cherry 🍒 | a.i

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

How did we end up here?

“Ash is my best friend. I can’t ruin what we have. If you hadn’t said anything we wouldn’t be here in the first place. Just please keep your mouth shut. About everything.”

chapter 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 2:

November 21, 2018

Spring

“Mum says I can’t stay in the apartment, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her right?” I groan, watching my dirty converse thump against the pavement.

“Well she has a point. I mean he can’t be that different yeah? Plus there’s Michael you can totally introduce me to.” Stells laughs, looping our arms together. We were currently headed to a local grocery store to stock up our fridge.

“Mmmhm. Sure. You just want to meet the band?” I roll my eyes at her laughter, which means I was right. “Okay, how about this? I won’t hide. He text me so he obviously hasn’t forgotten, yeah?” Cars honking in the distance flood through the thoughts swirling in my head.

“Hey Rea?” Stells voice flood in over the background noise.

“Hmm?”

“Why does it bother you so much? Why are you having such a hard time with all of this?” I can feel her fingers rub my arm in a soothing manner, as if to keep me calm.

That’s a good question. Why do I have such a problem with us reuniting? My head turns towards the day breaking sky. “I guess I just can’t face him? Maybe I feel insignificant to everyone he’s met along the way. He’s to busy for the childish shit we used to do. I don’t know. It just feels weird.” My voice was quiet, almost being taken by the late spring winds. “Maybe it’s my crippling daddy slash anxiety issues.” Sarcasms leaks past the serious answers, causing Stells to laugh. It wasn’t a real laugh, more of a pity laugh because she knows that I can’t be serious.

“Well maybe so, but you won’t every know unless you try. Maybe it’s all in your head and Ashton feels like nothing has changed. MAYBE he just misses you.” Now she’s shaking my arm, really laughing. I look at the false red head and can see the seriousness behind those playful glances. She’s trying to keep it light to spare my raging mind.

“Yeah, maybe…” my words trail off as I laugh along with her. Thankful, I let out an internal sigh once the shop came into view. “So, there will be no vegemite in my house.”

“That’s bullshit! You are a different breed my girl.” A quick change of subject is just what the doctor ordered, but now I have to have this argument.

“I think it’s because of my sperm donor’s American genes.” I make a gross face with my tongue out, the metal piercing clinking again my teeth. Stells laughs and makes a move to pull my tongue.

Once inside the store I grab a shopping cart, quickly making my way to the snack isle. “I’m going to grab a few frozen thing? Be back in bit.” My roommate bounces off into the opposite direction, her pleated school girl skirt bouncing too.

“Careful Stells. You’re going to give them a show for free.” She turns and glares at me, who was snickering wildly behind my hand. She flips the bird before rounding a corner out of site.

I grab a few things, before staring aimlessly at the boxes trying to decide what else to get. Absentmindedly, my hand went to my mouth. My pearly whites nip at my already shortened finger nails. Nervous habit.

“Uhm, excuse me.” A soft voice breaks my concentration.

“Oh! Sorry!” A nervous laugh leaves my chest. My hands quickly finding the cart to move it out of the way. My eyes then landed on a milky chocolate skinned girl. Only a handful of inches taller than me, she stands on her tip toes to grab the Tim Toms off the top shelf. Her nimble fingers were adorned with rings, and her hair sat in a short afro atop her head. She grabbed the box and turned to me with a smile. Her brown eyes wore a thick black line of eye liner that intensified her features. The light glinted off her piercings. She was beautiful, but what peaked my interest was her very American accent.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Oh, hi. Sorry- I- You’re not from here are you?” My eyebrows knit together, of course she’s not from around here. I’m sure she has gotten that a lot.

“Yeah, what gave me away? Was it my hair? Or maybe my shoes?” She laughs, being sarcastic seemed to flow easy with her. I look down at her pink boots.

“Oh yeah, definitely the boots.” A smile formed across my face.

“I’m Alex. I love your style. You’re beautiful.” She was straight forward, but the hint of shyness didn’t go unnoticed. She looks me up and down, closely examining my features. I squirm under her burning eyes.

“Realynn, but you can just call me Rea. And Um,” I look down at my 80’s style windbreaker, simple black tee, and shorts. Not much if you ask me, but a lot to her I guess. “Thanks, but I just grabbed what was on top this morning.”

“Well, either way I bet your wardrobe is spectacular. If that’s “just what’s on top” and all.” She laughs but continues to speak. “Hey listen… I’m a photographer who doesn’t have a lot to do this winter- I mean summer? It’s summer here right? God. Anyways I know we just met but how cool would it be if you modeled for me? I have a few brand deals but none of my models could make the trip to Sydney so,” her fingers nervously tap on the box in her hand. She wants me to be a model?

She joking right?

“Me? A model? I don’t know sis.” I laugh shaking my head.

“No, I’m serious! Please I need your help.” She gives me a small smile and pleading eyes.

“I think you should do it Rea! You’re pretty stunning after all!” The voice of a certain taller woman in my life, comes from behind me. I turn to look at Stells, her brown doe like eyes glittering with curiosity and mischief.

“Look I know we just met, but trust me when I say I can see potential in you. I’m a photographer, I know my models.” The box of Tim Tams bounce in her ring clad hands.

“Ugh, fine. But this is all to weird.” Squealing quietly, Stells wraps me in a tight hug. I just laugh and hug her back.

“So your contact information?” Alex pushes her phone towards me with the dial screen open. Stells lets me go and I put my information in.

“So what brings you here from America?” I start walking, the girls follow me as I bee line for the fruits.

“Ah, well I came with some friends. Really to work something out, but they don’t know that.” She laughs nervously, looking around the shop at all the items.

“Okay. Not creepy or cripted or anything.” Stells laughs.

“Sorry. It’s a lot to unload, and I need a model, possibly models. Can’t scare you away with my drama. Plus that’s part of the reason I’m here. To get away from all that.” She shrugs. “I’m Alex by the way.” She lifts up a hand to Stells.

“Stells. Nice to meet you.” She gingerly took Alex’s hand and shook it, smiling. They continue to chat amongst themselves while I searched for the good stuff.

I reach down for the big container of bright red cherries, smiling like an idiot. They go into the shopping cart as Stells scoffs as me. Ignoring her, I roll my eyes. They’ll get stuck up there one day.

I’m brought out of the thoughts by a familiar tune. Someone’s phone was ringing, but it wasn’t mine. I look around, it was Alex’s. She scrunches her eyebrows and sighs before picking it up.

“Hey,” she pauses for a minute looking at us, mouthing a quick sorry. “Yeah, I’m still here. Okay. Be out soon.” She hung up and shook the box in her hand.

“Well, I got to run. My ride is here. Can’t miss that since I’m new and all.” She laughs and turns to walk away. “It’s was great meet you guys!”

“Great to meet you too!” Stells and I say at the same time, waving goodbye to our new acquaintance.

“She seemed really cool! And super pretty.” Stells says walking with me to the next isle.

“Yeah, I just hope this modeling thing is for real.” I pick up a few cans off the shelf.

“Seemed like it.” She shrugged, grabbing some of her favorites. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of right now,” with that we took the cart and started towards the front. Once we were to the lines, out of the corner of my eyes a specific pair of pink boots make themselves known. They quickly disappear into a black van. I smile thinking about her offer. A model, aye?

Before the door shuts on the van a certain dirty blonde quickly gets into the van. It was just the back of him, but I could spot him out of a crowd in no time.

Ashton Fletcher Irwin.

-zeni

[leafisamenace]

The Crow

I stand in my kitchen, meticulously scrubbing the dirt from under my nails and wiping the sweat from my stinging, sunburnt face. I glance out the window above my sink to admire the work I have done today. Young, dark green English Ivy sprouts reach from the dark soil towards my sturdy wooden trellis. At the edge of my garden, cloaked in his midnight garb, a crow peers over curiously. He catches the gentle breeze and glides over to the ivy, landing among them as if for a closer look. 

He turns his head in that peculiar way crows do, and suddenly pecks at an ivy sprout. In one swift motion he pulls it from the recently disturbed ground. Its roots now grasp towards the sun, barren of dirt or shade. I bolt from my kitchen to the garden to shoo this troublesome bird away but, upon arriving he has already uprooted all of my work. Then, as if to only further draw my ire, he looks at me and caws victoriously before flying off.

After I replant my ivy three times, to answer the antagonistic challenge of the crow, I decide to remain in my garden as the sun sets. I will defeat this villainous crow. My garden becomes shrouded in a quiet darkness, almost eerily so. No birds chirp, bugs buzz, cicadas or crickets sing. A peaceful silence I have conquered for myself, now besieged by a single crow.

I accidentally drift to sleep in my silent watch, swaddled by the warmth of the night air. As the sun begins to peek over the horizon, it is not the light that wakes me. Instead my morning alarm is the single, piercing, dreaded “CAW!”

My eyes snap open to see the treacherous crow, parading through his destruction, my work, my peace again uprooted. My rage billows. I lunge forward but I am only met with the cool, dew covered soil. The crow takes flight again, fleeing my garden. But that is not enough. I make a fierce chase. Like a fiend I leap over the garden wall, sprint into the woods, launch off of any trail or path in pursuit of my feathered foe. He flies from me hastily, fleeing deeper and deeper into the forest.

Suddenly I snap back to reality as my rage is replaced with exhaustion. Catching my breath I realize I am lost and alone. My grumbling stomach reminds me I had just exited the fast of sleep but I am now without any food, lost in the woods. Filled with frustration and shaken by the quiet pangs of fear, I throw myself onto the ground and cry. All while that damned crow looks down from his perch, tilting his head mockingly.

He glides down in a gentle half circle and lands next to me. Then he utters a caw so soft it almost sounds like a coo. Fueled by my frustration I, again, make a foolishly futile lunge. The crow, again, flies from my disoriented attack and perches in a tree, but remains in my sight. The woods around me feel strange. The plants are almost alien, holding a clashing complexity not seen in my garden, adorning the roads and buildings, or in the comfortable conformity of my neighbors lawns. A cacophonic chorus of birds and insects begins to overwhelm me, all while the crow inspects me with his apparent mocking pity. I grasp for a stone on the forest floor, preparing to fling it at my foe but the futility of that is revealed to me. I slump down and jealousy observe the crow. He in return observes me back. 

As I stand, preparing to desperately wander the woods, he utters another soft, cooing caw. I look towards him curiously, and he flies to a nearby branch a little farther away. Then, looking directly at me, the crow repeated his caw, almost as if it were an invitation. Being truly lost, with no other plan I decide to follow the crow as he appears to suggest. While I follow him, the crow continues to inspect me, looking back in between each flight to a new branch. He moves with a comfortable confidence while I stumble through the woods, tripping over unseen stones and roots that jut from the shadows. He guides me for what must be an hour through the intimidatingly lively woods.My stomach again growls, its gnawing accenting my desperation. Suddenly, the crow bursts ahead. I speed after him and upon catching up, I am greeted with the soothing sound of a gentle creek.

I am surrounded by a quaint glen. The canopy above opens to let in a flood of beaming sun. Flowers, wild grasses, and shrubs bask in its warmth. By the flowing creek, ferns lie in the cool shade. Under their dark fronds a frog sits softly croaking, only stopping to eat the occasional bug that crosses his path. Bees waltz among the blooming flowers accompanied by their soft buzzing. All while insects dance above the water like fae. Despite its ideal beauty, the glen still holds a sense of foreign unease over me. The crow sits in a young but established oak tree. Adorned with a blooming purple passion vine. The vine, while still dotted with the occasional brilliant bloom has gone to a fruit so bounteous the weight bends it down in places. The crow again looks at me and repeats his beckoning caw. As I approach him again, he does not flee or even flinch. Instead with a small, trusting hop he turns to look at the vine and its fruit. The beautiful deep purple of the ripe fruit is spectacular. It is a sight I have not seen since I was young when the vine would grow wildly up my grandmother’s fence. She had a garden and yard bustling with the unkempt nature of a southern prairie. It would often draw the ire of her neighbors. They were quick to complain about the unkempt plants and rabbits that would sneak into their gardens that lived there, as if they had not shot any coyote that would keep the rabbits in check. But they never complained about the hummingbirds that nested in her trees or the lightning bugs that flew from the tall grass at night for the kids to catch. Despite the neighbors’ complaints, she loved it and would take us around the yard to show us what nature lived there. One day in her naturalistic way, after we kids complained for a snack, she showed us how to open the passion fruits off of the vine with our bare hands. 

I pluck a ripe fruit from the vine, and guided by memory and hunger I attempt to open it. I struggle at first, as my memory is hazy and my fingers slip from the fruit. I take a moment to collect myself before trying again, this time the fruit splits open into two halves full of yellow fruit. I scoop the fruit from one half and as it touches my tongue a sense of relief fills me. The uneasy worry that had stalked me all morning in the then strange woods began to swiftly dissipate. As I swallow, a sense of familiarity and peace I had never felt washes over me.

The crow, still looking at me, utters a questioning caw. He looks to the other half of the fruit, then back to me. Then he makes a small hop towards me and tilts his head as if to politely ask if I would share. My earlier anger towards him dissipates completely as the newfound calm overtakes me and owing the location of the fruit to him, I offer the other half. He eats it gleefully. I sit in the shadow of the oak next to the creek and eat my fill of fruit, of course sharing with my new friend.

I spend the day relaxing in the glen, listening to the now soothing bird song, watching the insects dance and squirrels chase each other over acorns. I smell the vibrant flowers, touch the smooth leaves, and put my feet in the cool creek. But after a day of leisure the crow swiftly flies to a tree at the edge of the glen and makes his beckoning caw, signaling that it is time to leave. Before I follow I open one last fruit, this time saving its seeds before I eat it.

After arriving home that day I plant the seeds along my trellis where I had futilely fought my friend over the English Ivy. Within a week, passion sprouts erupt from the earth, growing strong and fast. Their beautiful blooms bring hummingbirds and bees that had never visited my garden before. Seeing their success I  plant some Black-eyed Susans, followed by Red Columbines, Milkweed, and any other native plant I can find. By the end of the season my garden is bursting with life. As I relax in my chair in the shade, birds sing tunes accompanied by the rhythmic buzzing of the bees and dancing butterflies. Squirrels chitter along as they eat the seeds dropped by the flowers. Bunnies hop around in the evening and at night fireflies add a mystical blinking to the darkness. And, of course, through it all my friend the crow caws. My now living lawn brings me that same tranquility I found in the glen. Not a conquered silence but a shared symphony.

[ghoastixx]

Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” (River’s version)

In the Flesh?

The bar was cold and loud. Too loud for the bartender’s liking. The jute box was playing a song by the Beatles. The cluttered bar room smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap booze. Girl’s half naked would sit on big burly men’s laps as they laughed loudly at racist comments. The main counter was pretty full, but the bartender did not falter. He was a smooth talker and would charm almost all of his customers.

“Aye, Elvira, another beer, will ya?” A drunk man spoke from the counter. The bartender with the long green curly mullet turned around, beer in hand.

“How many times must I tell you,” the bartender spoke. He had a Norwegian accent and scarred over burns all over his face. His eyes a piercing yellow. “My name is River.” The man smiled,

“You told me your name was Elv,” River slid a beer bottle to him. He smiled, his teeth sort of pointy.

“My name is Elv in my native language. Rivera here.” River turned back around, only to look over his shoulder when he felt a tug on the little black apron he wore around his waist.

“How old did you say you were?” The man, who had already had too much to drink asked. River glanced away, knowing this all too well.

So you, thought you, might like to.. go to the show?

“I’m twenty-nine.” River spoke with distaste, pulling his apron away. The drunk man slurred,

“You look too young for twenty-nine..” he took a swig of his drink. Unbutton that pretty little shirt, won’t you boy? I can see that tattoo poking out.” He grinned stupidly. River glared.

To feel the warm thrill of confusion, the space cadet glow

River had went to attend to more customers, the drunken man still trying to elude him. Hours went by and the man wouldn’t give up. Eventually the bar was empty, but River could see the man waiting by the door. He rubbed his temples and took off his apron, leaving his leather pants exposed. His ring shown in the luminescent lights.

Tell me is something eluding you, sunshine?

River made his way swiftly out of the bar, being able to smell the alcohol on the man who reached out for him.

“Sugar, wait up-“ as soon as he touched River, his eyes widened. His pupils slimmed and he lunged onto the man. River normally wouldn’t act out like this.. but this man had been a usual at the bar. The man shrieked when he saw River’s pointed teeth and ears. He had multiple piercings going through them, making them seem a bit normal, but to the man who was moments from death, was anything but normal.

Blood splattered on River’s pale skin. His black clothes had little dark splotches on it now. River stood up, fear in his own eyes as he wiped blood from his mouth, standing in the street light.

Is this not what you expected to see?

River’s walk was grim and slow. It was dark and cold but all River could think about was getting home. He eventually came to the isolated home. It was a nicer home as River’s boyfriend had money, but it wasn’t in a neighborhood. They liked their privacy. All the lights were out as it was very late. River pulled his keys out and unlocked the door. Taking his boots off and going up the staircase. The first door was his son ‘Soup’s’ room. It was quiet and the door was shut. He walked past it, looking at the door at the end of the hall. The bathroom.

If you wanna find out what’s behind these cold eyes, you’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise.

“Papa?” A voice startled River. It was his adopted daughter Riley’s. He looked down at him, hiding himself in the dark as to not show his son.

“Ri. Why are you awake? You have school in the morning.” Ri shifted uncomfortably.

“Dad’s upset.”

“Where is he?”

“In the basement.” River sighed.

“Go to sleep Riley.”

“But-“

“Do as I say.” River spoke sharply, turning around and shutting himself in the room. It was quiet for a while. Then the shower started.