#everyone either wants them carnally or wants them dead. Or both

[impulsivexcreator]

Just gotta say I adore how many homoerotic rivals/enemies Umbra has. They have what like. 3 homoerotic enemies and 2 normal enemies??? 

[yandereunsolved]

tw: yandere themes, murder, gore, minor suggestive themes

yandere James Patrick March who saw you walking through his hotel halls and had to have you all for himself.

yandere James Patrick March who threatens every entity in his hotel. If anyone so much as touches a hair on your head, they'll end up with a second death at the hands of a suave psychotic mass murderer.

yandere James Patrick March who leaves parts of dead bodies at your door as a present— like how a cat gives their owner a mouse as a sign of affection.

yandere James Patrick March who writes the most intimate and goery love letters to you. He signs off his initials 'JPM' with the blood of his victims. The longer he does it, the more likely it is that he's signed it with his own blood.

yandere James Patrick March who doesn't let you leave, even if you don't realize why. Oh, you are in the city for only a night? Suddenly, everyone you love and care about is sending you text messages about how they don't need how— how you should stay there. You can't pay? The mysterious owner of the hotel has waved all the fees. Your stay is free as long as you are here. Need a job?The hotel has a position has a maid. It's so easy. You barely have any rooms to clean. Are you scared of the hotel? Every ghost (and the handful of living people) are incredibly nice to you. They treat you like a god(dess).

yandere James Patrick March who watches you from the shadows. Whether you be searching for the ice machine or just exploring. He's always there. His eyes analyzing you like a predator who found their favorite prey. He's memorized every curve of your body and every preference of yours.

yandere James Patrick March who protects you while you explore. He's possessive. He's gotta make sure the Countess doesn't get her hands on you. He's gotta make sure that no ghost touches you. He's gotta make sure. Just incase.

yandere James Patrick March who refuses to reveal himself to you as of yet. He adores watching those cogs in your mind turn.

yandere James Patrick March who is obsessed with watching your complex range of emotions. Happiness. Sadness. Anger. Fear. Love. Lust. Adoration. Obsession. Need. Carnal need. All those precious, precious feelings. He needs to see all of those emotions on your delectable little features.

yandere James Patrick March who buys his darling the most expensive delicacies the world can offer. He places them right in front of you when you aren't looking. They always have bloody utensils with them. Just to remind you who it is that you belong to. What he is able to do to anyone that crosses the either of you.

yandere James Patrick March who always kills his victims in your vicinity. When you are sleeping he kills one of them in the next room. It makes his blood pump— thinking about that fearful expression you must be making. That small quiver on your addictive lips that he has not yet had the pleasure to taste. How tempting you must look in your night clothes. Of course, he's a gentleman. He makes sure that you get enough sleep beforehand. He doesn't want his precious jewel having sleep deprivation.

yandere James Patrick March who reveals himself to you right after a fresh kill. Blood is dripping down his bare chest, his pants are slightly unbuttoned, and his boxers are hugging his v-line. He flashes you his award winning smile. He gets down on one knee and presents you with the heart of his latest victim.

yandere James Patrick March who allows himself to indulge in your horrified shrieks. Who wants nothing more than to take you right then and there. Who wants to see the blood all over both of your bodies. Who wants to leaves long lasting marks that will scar you physically and mentally.

yandere James Patrick March who confesses this undying love to you in that very moment. He wants nothing more than to have you in his grasp— hugging, kissing, cuddling, choking, cutting, killing... and everything else in-between.

yandere James Patrick March who will never force himself upon you. He will preach his undying love and manipulate you, but never soil you with unwanted touches. Perhaps a few cuts, though. He sees those things as vastly different.

yandere James Patrick March who left you quickly as he came. He placed the heart on your bed and was gone in the blink of an eye.

yandere James Patrick March who periodically visits you from then on. Sometimes he gifts you things and others he does his best to spark up conversations.

yandere James Patrick March who will gladly threaten you with a weapon to get you to talk to him. He would actually be over the moon. Your fear is intoxicating to him. It makes him all giddy inside. He feels alive.

yandere James Patrick March who always gets that high from you. That special feeling he so zealously covets. That thing that trumps that special high he gets when killing. He's addicted. Addicted to you and your very presence.

yandere James Patrick March who will invite you to private dinners. Who will wear his finest clothing. Then he addresses your concerns and fully tells you everything. He tells you of how he has courted you and of how he confessed his love. He speaks with hearts in his eyes. If you disagree or break his trance... your inevitable death will come much sooner than expected.

yandere James Patrick March who then demands you cut off contact with anyone who presents as male. He doesn't want anyone having a chance with you. He's almost like a toddler in that way. A murderous toddler with a mustache.

yandere James Patrick March who is a dangerous man who lusts after power. A man that has only one weakness— you being able to step out of the hotel. This is only a momentary weakness. Another step in his plan. Do not play the 'I can leave and you can't' card too many times. Lest it fall from your hand and James picks it up.

yandere James Patrick March who immediately moves you into his, now your..., private suite.

yandere James Patrick March who leaves different pieces of clothing he'd like to see you in on your shared bed.

yandere James Patrick March who asks you how he should kill his next victim.

yandere James Patrick March who is ready to make you his eternal bride/groom/partner.

yandere James Patrick March who always makes sure not to scare you too much. His version of too much, mind you. At least until he's trapped you in here for all eternity with him. There's no need for him to rush things. He has all the time in the world.

[limeinaltime]

If there's one thing I am proud about with The Apotheosis of Mari Erebos, it's that the situation is both horrifying and sometimes beautiful from both a metaphorical standpoint and if you take it from face value, even if I struggle to convey it via my current level of writing skill.

A teen is bound to a nightmare realm that grows as it's fed. It's a metaphor for abuse. A boy is forcibly dragged into something greater than what he was made for. We want to save those that we care about but we are so so small. God is dying but the thing that wants to take their place is a force of pure malicious joy and cruelty that bathes in the suffering of others. You either die to the darkness or let it into your heart. There is a world that dwarfs the universe and it's supposed to love you but it hates you viscerally and desires you carnally. You've seen so much and yet you're still so small. A girl's mind has been taken prisoner by her abusers, and one of them is hopelessly, deeply, sickeningly obsessed with her. Teens hated and abandoned by the society they were born into for something out of control got Skinamarink-ed and stripped of their humanity and dignity. An entire section of a race was wiped out for the sake of growing political greed and corruption. There is a pit of dead versions of the characters we all care for so dearly. Every death becomes just a looping vivid nightmare where you're the same age you were when you started, but your body still remembers and the fear never goes away. A ten year old has been trapped in a cycle of suffering for far too long. Someone basically becomes a god-killing machine. A baby god was manipulated, killed and possessed by someone who wanted his entire race to suffer.

You will never hear him sing again. You were born a victim and you will die a victim. The one person you thought you could trust just threw you at a wall and said you deserved to die. The friends you grew up with or the one you just made must be lost in order for the other to live. The love you feel makes you want to rip your heart out and scream at it to stop racing. You don't know who you are. This flesh should not be yours. You were born to die. You are a slave to a predetermined narrative. You were born a helpless little baby, and you will die a helpless, sad adult. This house is your haven and it is your hell. The entire world has convinced you that you deserve all the pain it gives. You are repulsive and disgusting and everyone hates you. You belong to the house. You belong to your damage. You belong to your hurt and you are owned by your hatred. You can either heal your inner child with kindness or beat it to death with hatred. Might also be a gender identity metaphor if you want it to be.

Why can't I remember you? Why am I drawn to you? Why do you still make me feel safe even though you hurt me? Why do I know your face? Why does your voice soothe the anger I hold so dearly? Why did I say that to you? Why do I care about you? Why do I know your face?

Mari befriending Juhdis only to lose him to the place that they're both victims of. Sollux helping Mari fix the bracelet while being at the mercy of Amberose. Stryga, despite everything, still being rejected because he's not goldblood enough to be one of them. Adelyn being forced to live through the same nightmare over and over again because Kuro desires revenge and suffering more than he loves her. The Anathema falling in love with The Savant after they become a part of each other's beautiful, simple lives and losing him because that's what Alternia and Liminal Space do. It's all take, take, take and those who try to give back are punished harshly.

I want people to root for Mari, Stryga and Adelyn to win their freedom from Liminal Space. I want to invoke mama bear rage over what Amberose. I want people to see what a piece of shit Kuro is due to all the indoctrination and abuse he's now reflecting onto Adelyn. I want the readers to want to kill Amberose and Kuro with their teeth. I don't want it to fall to overhype. I want to feel like hot shit for writing it. I am experiencing my first possibly-longform fanfic and it is a ride and a half.

[hausofmamadas]

| The occupational hazards of living |

⁂

Narcos: Mexico/True Detective Crossover

Pairing: David Barrón & Rustin "Crash" Cohle & OC! Ziggy Morenas & OC! Ernesto "Chato" Quintana Colmenaro

For @narcosfandomdiscordNarcOctober - Day 22 - Day of Cross Pollination

Prompt: Create a fanwork that includes at least one Narcos character and at least one character from another fandom & fanwork with the plot or setting stolen from another fandom

Word count: ≈ 4.5K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, Light Prison Racisms, swearing, racial slurs, drug use, references to trauma/domestic abuse, white supremacy ..? that’s a trigger, right?

The two most important things anyone can do is give life and take it. But with how often both happened, it seemed people didn’t consider the gravity of either near enough. Killing wasn’t a trifling thing. Barrón has had it up to here with these Neo-Nazis and Rustin Cohle is there to support his teaching them a lesson. Also a couple of notes: La Eme = the letter M but stands for Mexican Mafia carnal = (pronounced carnál) made man of La Eme, putting in work = Doing Crimes, particularly violent ones in service to La Eme, vica = vice president, usually of a prison cellblock llevero = keyholder/shotcaller, Eme carnal who oversees a specific geographic region outside prison or an entire prison camarada = non-made Eme members, affiliates crimie = (pronounced crim-ee) short for criminal contra = short for contraband la raza = literally the race, but more the community/the people (similar to gente but more exclusive)

… but first! Let’s meet the cast:

Ziggy

Chato

Ginger

⁂

The most startling thing about prison wasn’t the violence. If witnessing his first drive-by shooting when he was six didn’t acclimate Barrón quickly, his old man’s habit of bouncing him and Matteo off the walls certainly did. So, while the tactics and flavors were new, the violence wasn’t. He likened it to living in a war zone. If you panicked about every shell that blew a road to bits, you’d drop dead of a coronary in no time.

No, the most shocking thing about prison was the tribalism. As a plebito in Logan Heights, he had friends belonging to almost every ethnic group the melting pot of San Diego had to offer. The project neighborhoods were chock full of families of different races, countries, ethnicities: Samoan, Filipino, Black, Japanese, Mexican, Guatemalan, El Salvadorian, and the like. It didn’t matter where the neighbor kid’s family was from, when all they wanted to do was play like Bruce Lee from Way of the Dragon in the scrapyard across the street.

So, when he arrived at his first Youth Authority facility, Rancho Del Campo, just outside the dirt town of Tecate, and was told by some of the older Sureños about the “rules” against consorting with Black or White prisoners, he thought it was a joke.

“Wait, you fucking with me?”

“Nah, lil homie. Deader than dead serious,” Eddie Monstruo aka Eddie the monster, Eme vica for his block, set him straight.

“Even if I knew ‘em on the outside? I can’t just eat a meal with ‘em?”

Eddie shook his head in lamentation.

“Trade contra? Say hi? Nothing?”

“Nothing. Con la raza baila el perro, sin la raza bailas como un perro. And they won’t tell you twice, te lo juro, guey.”

He remembered thinking, Are you kidding? This is America. So indignant. What he wouldn’t give to be that green again. But what really bothered him was how the rules weren’t the same for everyone. Like how the Sureños were more simpatico with White prisoners because La Eme was aligned with the AB. Aryan Brotherhood.

He rarely saw White kids on the outside save for when he sold them dope down by the boardwalk. He sure as fuck didn’t have any whiteboy homies. Shoot, on the outside, whitey was The Man. So, it was a blow when he found out the camaradas were aligned with the AB. The way it was explained to him, the Sureños did it out of “necessity” because of the longstanding alliance between the Norteños and Black Guerrilla Family. Norteños, or Nuestra Familia, were Eme’s sworn enemy. Sometime in the 70s, the top carnals saw the need to boost their profile and numbers with a similar alliance, so they took up with the AB.

Barrón never said shit, but the AB didn’t sit right with him. For guys who were supposedly the “cream of the crop,” the “superior” race, they were really a bunch of lazy, disorganized hicks. They talked a lot of shit about the white race being the “one true people,” “purest of the pure,” acted like they shit gold. But then they had to be off-this-planet high on whatever the crank of the month was, just to put in work. That, or they shot up places indiscriminately. No creep to ‘em. Worse yet, no concern for bystanders.

Barrón knew everyone in the game skated a line of amorality, but he drew a few more lines for himself. One from the beginning: at all possible costs, no bystanders. The other line came with time. After he’d been around the block some, he stopped getting blasted on dope and booze before a hit. He didn’t begrudge some of the guys that did and he had his fair share of early jobs where those gears needed greasing. But after a while, being spun on top of spun felt disrespectful. To the job. To his victims.

The two most important things anyone can do is give life and take it. But with how often both happened, it seemed people didn’t consider the gravity of either near enough. Killing wasn’t a trifling thing. So, what did it say about him if he tried to escape, check out by getting high? What did it say if he couldn’t, with his full faculties and finger on the trigger, look the person in the eye and feel the depth of what he was about to do?

There was no off the hook. Actions have consequences. Guilt and remorse? They were occupational hazards of living if your brain was wired like it was supposed to be. He knew there was a worthy place for him in hell. The least he could do was be an adult about it. It’s not that he fancied murder an honorable business. He just hated cowards and hypocrites. That’s why he hated the AB.

That and they just plain sucked. Best way to ruin a party? Be sure to invite the neo-nazis.

The last time he agreed to work with an AB affiliated outfit was a few years after he got out of San Quentin. The Logan Heights llevero, his old homie Mando, called on Barrón to help some biker gang take back one of their stash houses. Apparently, some AB higher-up named Geronimo Jerry was collecting on a favor Mando owed from back when they did time in Folsom. To pay up, Mando put together a team to back Jerry’s guys up, but a couple of his original soldiers got dropped by the cops and another got arrested, and he needed replacements for the six man operation. The minute Barrón heard whiteboys were involved, he tried to get out of it. But Mando was a full-blown Eme carnal by then, a made-man of the Mexican mafia.

Barrón had seen The Godfather countless times as a kid, one of his dad’s favorites. One of the few good things he could remember about the man at all. At five years old, he thought it entirely innocent when Vito said in that whisper of a voice, “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Like Vito was offering Woltz a deal so sweet, he couldn’t pass it up. It wasn’t till later on, when Mando asked him to do this job that Barrón got what Vito Corleone really meant. When a carnal said “jump,” he had no choice. He was locked in.

Thankfully, the two others Mando put on it were Barrio LH guys Barrón already knew. He and Chato had been buds since back in YA and had already done plenty of rip-n-runs together. He’d never worked a job like this with Ziggy Morenas but Ziggy was a known quantity around Shelltown as a reliable soldado. He was also Matteo’s best friend since grade school, so naturally, when they were old enough to start puttin’ in work, they did it together. Matteo only ran with the best and taught Barrón to do just the same.

But it was tricky with Ziggy. Barrón got along with him fine but they’d never been close per se. Unofficial Big Bro Ziggy might’ve been more accurate. Still, when Matty died, they fell out for a bit. They’d only reconnected recently because Ziggy started going out with one of Cheli’s friends, Leó. Even then, the void of Matty was always there. A void they shared but could never relate to each other through. Plus, competent a soldado as he was, the thing about Ziggy? He could be a little serious even for Barrón’s liking, which was saying something. Frankly, Ziggy could be a downright prickly motherfucker. All that noise aside though, he’d take serious over reckless any day. There was no mistaking Chato and Ziggy were solid guys.

The AB crew, on the other hand. Well truly, he’d never seen a more unprofessional group of crimies, save one of their affiliates Barrón had met a few times before, a bony-faced, severe-looking guy named Rust who went by Crash. He had the rangy, haunted look of a starved alley cat and commanded an Ivy League vocabulary that, through a watered-down Texas drawl, betrayed just how whip-smart he was. He also seemed to be the only one who could hold his liquor and his crystal, a fact alone that should’ve meant he was the one calling the shots. Unfortunately for them, the actual “leader” of this mess was a brawny, bald guy with too-wide, glassy blue eyes and a long, braided, red beard, who they fittingly called Ginger.

The “safe house” they met at was a piece of shit, rundown bungalow owned by Jerry. Outside, it looked like an elementary school portable. Inside, it was a hoarder’s paradise. When Barrón, Chato, and Ziggy arrived, there were group of about nine or ten guys huddled around Ginger at a foldable picnic table in the kitchen area. Crash was the only one off to the side, smoking by himself in the corner.

As the three of them passed through the living room to join the AB guys, Barrón was overwhelmed by the stench of cat piss, lighter fluid, and an amalgam smoke mixture of PCP and cigarettes. The shag carpet was crawling with roaches and littered with cigarette butts, stag mags, and Skymall catalogs. And fuck finding a place to sit. Barrón had to slide clothes and stacks of papers off the arm of a dank couch that jutted into the dining area just to lean against it. Chato and Ziggy opted to share the edge of the coffee table facing the kitchen.

They all watched as Ginger laid out the half-assed plan they cooked up. Barrón caught Crash out of the corner of his eye, whose gaunt face seemed caught between an apology and a defeated look of warning, like he was telegraphing the breath and time he’d already wasted trying to reason with these idiots and that he shouldn’t be bothered.  

When it became clear these morons hadn’t done any legwork beforehand, Barrón asked if they had an alternate route to get out of the complex they were hitting in case they got boxed in. “Only one way in and out? In only one car?”**

Eyes buzzing with a kind of feral, wildcard edge that didn’t instill the slightest confidence, Ginger nodded slowly, licking excess coke off the edge of a credit card.

Ziggy too, looked unamused, the tell-tale whites of the skin spreading over his knuckles, visible as his hands balled into fists. Chato noticed too because he and Barrón exchanged uneasy glances.

Dropping some well-timed Spanish, intended only to be understood by the three of them, “Es lo que ya les pregunté. Todo se fija a ser un espectáculo de mierda,” Crash floored the whole room before calmly taking a drag from his cigarette like an asthmatic on his inhaler.  

A big guy named Mitch leaned over close enough to graze Barrón with his beard, and freebase-exhaled this poetry, “We hit trouble? Just gotta fuck it in the ass. Scoop out the soft brains and eat right out the skull.”**

One of the strangest attempts at reassurance Barrón had ever heard. Like he agreed, Crash scoffed at Mitch and rolled his eyes. Homie knew shit was about to go down. Probably because Ziggy looked like he was about to pop his lid. Barrón choked back a chuckle of surprise that Ziggy didn’t slug the fat fuck in the face, right then and there. It wouldn’t have been out of character. Or unwarranted.

Because this was typical AB. These guys never bothered to come up with a plan. They never needed one. Life cut them all the breaks and of course it did. They’d designed it that way.

But as fate would have it, Barrón was actually one to break. He’d reached his limit and put one of their guys down with a bullet in both kneecaps. It was after he questioned their exit strategy.

Some skinny dude, a guy called Whizbang, who’d been spun for probably 48 straight hours, accused him of asking too many questions. Undeniable proof he was an undercover cop. Funny thing was, this moron wasn’t even gonna be part of the actual boost.

“This spic doesn’t say shit the whole time. Now he’s askin’ about tactics? Shifty-eyed motherfucker hasn’t touched shit since we got here.” Whizbang pointed to the curated assortment of drug paraphernalia next to the assault weapons on the table. “What’s wrong? You some kinda beaner cop, ese?” He pronounced it ‘ess-ay.’

Barrón met him with a wall of inscrutable nothing.

The little creep walked over slowly. “You laughin’ at me motherfucker?” Funny, ‘cause he wasn’t even close to smiling.

Relaxed as ever, he drowned the room in a silence that put everyone’s hackles up. Especially Ginger, whose eyes couldn’t get any wider, the whites of his eyes near engulfing his eye-sockets, swallowing his irises along with those pinprick-sized pupils. The look of bored resignation Crash wore every other time Barrón crossed paths with him was now replaced with a smirk of satisfaction; someone who walked through life craving the unexpected and getting more than he’d bargained for.

“Got nothin to say, huh? C’mon Sancho, prove you’re not a cop.”

As he drew closer, he tried his level best to look menacing or as menacing as anyone named Whizbang might hope to be. Patience wearing thin, Barrón’s wall broke and he rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, muttering against gritted teeth and his better judgement, “Can’t believe we have to deal with this shit.”

Whizbang didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s go Sancho, talk or take a bump. Show us you’re not a cop.”

Almost close enough to be nose-to-nose now, he took out a dimebag of what looked like PCP from the pocket of his kutte and waved it in front of Barrón’s face. No one but Ziggy and Chato caught his hand nearing a spot at the base of his back.

Eyes blazing like molten tar, nostrils flared, it was a preamble, simple and quick. “You talk too much.”

Then before anyone could blink, two loud pops and poor, skinny-ole Whizbang crumpled to the floor, howling and clutching his knees as blood spurted out all over his hands and seeped through his jeans onto the carpet. Barrón fixed his nine millimeter on Whizbang’s face, trying to decide if he was going to let the skidmark live. But, spotting a wooden crate on the floor next to the table, he aimed there instead.

A moment of stunned silence passed, until everyone realized what he was aiming at and then all the AB guys scrambled for the weapons on the table. Everyone except Crash who was laughing at the ground now, unperturbed and cracked-in-the-head in a way that indicated the guy had seen some shit in his life. What it was, Barrón could only guess.

Crash cut through the chaos with a whistle and a, “tsk tsk, I’d think on that, boys.”

They all froze and looked at him, then at Barrón, then to the barrel of his gun, then to the wooden crate that was filled with over a dozen live grenades, then back at Barrón. Just to hammer the point home, Barrón shot right, then left, on each side of the crate.

The AB guys looked green. Chato and Ziggy looked torn between panic and hysterical laughter, though he swore he detected a hint of approval on Ziggy’s face. Crash looked on the verge of straight-up applause. Based on the sheer glee this little turn of events brought him, he couldn’t have been with the AB. That must be why he wasn’t in charge.

Looking Ginger square in the eye, Barrón explained, voice quiet and even, “We do this my way or I can nuke us all, right now.” He waited a beat but stunned-stupid Ginger still said nothing. “So Chief, what’ll it be?”

Crash ventured, smirking with an I-told-you-so superiority only somewhat softened by the drawl, “Far be it from me to speak out of turn, here, Ginger. But based on the last few months I just spent in Ojinaga and Juarez, uh– I’d say– well, yeah, just– you’d be wise to take these motherfuckers serious, right brother.” He tacked on brother like an afterthought, maybe to soften the blow or maybe just to sound like a condescending prick. Somehow it worked on both fronts.

Ginger stared at the ground and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like it might dislocate. Then spat out, “Fine. Fuckit,” rolling his head around, glaring through half-lidded eyes, “what does Big Beaner over here propose?”

And just like that, Barrón was in charge.

So, of course then, the heist went off without a hitch.

∴

After the job was done, the loot counted and distributed among all interested parties back at the safe house, everyone exchanged tense, albeit still-amicable goodbyes; good will engendered, no doubt, by fact that the whole thing went off seamlessly. Still, Crash was the only whiteboy to shake their hands.

“Nifty little stunt you pulled there. I’d call you a crazy motherfucker, if you hadn’t saved me the headache of getting my ass greased,” he turned around to look over at Ginger’s crew, back to snorting PCP off the foldout table with plastic straws, “and buried six-feet-under with these fuckin’ imbeciles.”

Barrón smiled and nodded diffidently.

Chato spoke up for the first time since they’d gotten back. “Hey, we’re ’boutta grab some grub before we head back to give the lowdown to the big homie—” Crash nodded at Chato like he knew exactly who Mando was. And maybe he did, since he didn’t seem to be rolling with the AB. Just another soldier filling out the ranks like them. “—wanna roll out with us?”

“Sheeit.” Eyes alight with a crystal-meth vigilance that would’ve been off-putting if he weren’t so devil-may-care all the time, Crash surveyed the room, and shrugged. “Beats climbing the walls here with these assholes. Yeah, lemme take you up on that, buy you friendlies a round somewhere.”

Barrón smiled at Chato, little social butterfly. He, himself, would never have thought to invite the guy, but he was glad Chato did. Following Chato’s lead, he asked Crash, “Yo, you need a ride?”

“Nah, I’ll follow on my bike. Y’all know what’s good.”

The three of them looked at each other blankly until Ziggy offered, “Stoney’s?”

“Any place with booze’ll do just fine.”

“Oh, but we gotta make a pit stop at Micky D’s.”

They all looked at Chato like he’d been an extraterrestrial this whole time, and they’d only noticed just now.

“What?” He asked earnestly. “I want a McFlurry.”

They all just kept staring at him.

“Well, they don’t have McFlurries at Stoney’s, obviously.” Like they were the dumbest people on the planet.

Amused, Crash chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t say I’m in a position to judge, but he’s an odd duck, ain’t he.”

“Aight.” Ziggy cracked a rare smile, the kind really only Chato or Matty could get him to do. “Let’s get the kid a McFlurry. Then Stoney’s.”

The three of them piled into Barrón’s Monte Carlo and rolled out. Crash chugged behind on his Harley.

The crowd at Stoney’s was just starting to pick up, so they opted for the open seats at the bar on the patio.

“First round’s on me.” Crash flagged down the bartender. “What’s everyone’s poison.”

Barrón put his hand on his chest, “Corona,” then pointed to Ziggy. “Y tú, qué?”

Ziggy looked up from the spot on the bartop he had been mean-mugging since they sat down, “Oh, uh—” then glanced at Chato next to him, who was gazing, lost in love, into his McFlurry cup, spooning bite after bite into his mouth, and just ordered for him. “Well, for the lady, a tequila sunrise and me? I don’t— eh, fuck it. Shot of tequila. Nothing fancy.”

Narrowing his eyes, Crash regarded them like he’d been conducting a study that yielded some unexpected results, then passed the order on to the bartender.

When they had their drinks, Crash finally asked what was probably on everyone’s mind. “So, contestame eso,” he slid into Spanish, unclumsily but not entirely without effort. “Ya tango que saberlo. Back there. That just a performance? Or would you’ve done it?”

Somewhat blindsided, less by the question than by who was asking it, Barrón struggled to hide his surprise while he tongued the inside of his cheek, searching for an answer. He got the impression for some reason that Crash could take the truth. There was a hard-lived, stretched-thin quality to him, evidence of a man, unmoored, maybe a bit unhinged, operating at the edge of life itself. But he didn’t want to spook Chato.

And the truth was well, he didn’t actually know. Not then and not now. He didn’t need to because of what he did know: things never would’ve gotten that far. It was a play and the play would’ve worked, even without Crash’s helpful advice to Ginger. Because those AB guys? They were always chickenshit.

Okay, so there. That was an answer. Why didn’t he just say that?

Maybe because of what he wasn’t certain of. That if he’d misjudged the situation, if it hadn’t worked, would he have tried their luck and pulled the trigger anyway? Nah, but he knew that too. Yeah, he would’ve. He meant it. Or at least a part of him. Had to be serious for them to take it serious.

But he settled on equivocation. “What d’you think?”

Ball back in Crash’s court, and the way his jaw cocked to the side, it was clear he wasn’t much for accepting non-answers for answers. “What do I think? Well, what’s the use in asking if I already know?”

Fair enough.

An impatient Ziggy piped up, turning to Barrón. “Quién se cree que es, este pinshe gringuillo?” But before Crash could answer, Ziggy swiveled back around and laid it out for him. “If he hadn’t meant it, we would’ve gone along with their cracked, cracker-ass plan. And if we went along with their plan, we’d either be in jail or riddled with bullets right now, probably buried in the middle of some dirt lot along with those crusty hicks. Okay?”

Huh. Ziggy, having his back like that, defending him. That was … nice, new. Unphased though, Crash put his hands up in armistice. “I ain’t complainin’ insofar as I’m curious as to the level of commitment to the bit.”

“Alright,” Barrón said in a sigh. “Yeah, I meant it. Had to, didn’t I?”

Finally, that seemed enough truth to humor Crash, as he nodded, mouth cocked up in a smug half-smirk, and took a swig of his bourbon. Barrón saw it then. Este güey knew it all along but wouldn’t be satisfied unless it was said out loud. Ziggy scowled and rolled his eyes, maybe still irritated that Crash had asked in the first place. But probably more resentful that he’d folded so quick, telling this outsider the truth.

Poor Chato seemed to be the only one taken by surprise, as he froze mid-bite, eyes wide, plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. And all of a sudden Barrón and Ziggy busted up laughing. With less investment but still in on the joke, Crash couldn’t stop himself chuckling too. As they all sat there, in varying levels of stitches, Chato just looked at them all, confused. Until he realized the joke was how ridiculous he looked, and then he cracked up right along with them.

When they settled down, Barrón wiped tears from his eyes while Chato contentedly sipped on his tequila sunrise, and Ziggy flagged the bartender again for another shot.

The bartender brought his shot and Ziggy knocked it back before asking Barrón, “Yo,” voice thick as he swallowed hard, “should we work on getting our story straight? Like, what do we tell Mando?”

Chato glanced nervously at Ziggy, agreeing, “Yeah, like are we gonna tell how you kneecapped that skinny guy–“

“Whizbang,” Crash cut in to remind them his name, as if it mattered.

“–and threatened to blow the whole crew away?”

Staring ahead at all the bottles lined up on shelves, lit technicolor by the bar lights, Barrón said cooly, “Is that what happened?”

Brows furrowed, Chato looked from Barrón, to Ziggy, to Crash, then back to Barrón. “Yo, is this a trick question or—?”

“No fool,” Ziggy shot him a disgruntled look. “It’s not a trick question. And yea, fool, that’s what happened.”

“So, that’s what we tell him.”

Chato couldn’t compute, looking at Barrón like he’d sprouted a second smaller, uglier head. With an air of amused cynicism, Crash watched the three of them bickering, citizens in the town square like they were on Court TV.

“Woahwoahwoah,” Chato practically gurgled with a mouth full of McFlurry, “you forreal right now?”

“Look, Jerry and Mando go way back. He’s gonna hear about it. Best he hears direct. Besides, you can’t lie to a carnal when you go off the reservation like that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Barrón saw Ziggy’s head gravely bobbing up and down in agreement.

Chato was still in disbelief. “Dude, he’s gonna cap you right there on the spot.”

“Actions have consequences,” Barrón explained simply, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. “I’ll see that it doesn’t blow back on you. S’on me.”

Ziggy seemed comfortable in resignation at the prospect of Mando losing his shit on Barrón. Chato was still unconvinced. Pobre was genuinely concerned for him.

Assessing Chato with something like doomed admiration, Crash pointed out, “Milkshakes aside, kid’s got the kinda heart they don’t teach in school.” Then looking around at all of them like the thought just dawned on him, he asked, “How old are you guys, anyway?”

Index finger pointing at his chest, Ziggy said flatly, “Twenty one, last month,” then pointed to Chato, “nineteen,” then to Barrón who finished for him, “eighteen.”

Crash whistled, “Sheeit. And I thought I didn’t have childhood.”

Chato still looked ill at ease. In an effort to cheer him up, Barrón quipped, “No hay tos, compa. I’m living on borrowed time anyway. Shoot, I was ready to die— what,” he smirked and glanced at the clock hanging above the doorway that led from Stoney’s patio back inside, “three hours ago?”

Chato gave him the side-eye but must’ve worked a little bit because his shoulders weren’t crunched up by his ears as much.

After a few minutes of silence, something occurred to Barrón. “Hey, why’d you ask?”

Crash downed the remainder of his bourbon in one big gulp and came back up smiling like he was waiting for that exact question to be asked. He set the empty glass upside down on the bar, and pulled out a cigarette, tapping the tip of it on the bottom of the glass, before putting it to his lips and lighting up.

Through another one of those deep, asthmatic drags, voice thick, he said, “Well, I was jus�� thinking, the kinda nuts it takes, going off book like that? But the three of you still kept your cool. Level headed nutjobs are hard to find. So, might be I got another job for you boys. If you’re interested. And Mando’ll lend you.”

Well that stumped them, as they stood there, puzzled looks on all their faces because actually who the fuck was this guy? And did he know Mando? Or he was just a that good a listener?

Crash gave them a wily look through the two thick columns of smoke that poured from his nostrils. “Y’all ever heard of a guy by the name of Amado Carrillo Fuentes?”

They came back at him with nothing but crickets.

“You might know him as El Senior de los Cielos.”

That’s when Barrón knew he’d sized this guy up correct. Crash, Rust, whoever this guy was, dropping a big name like that, guaranteed he’d seen and done some shit in his life.

And now, evidently, he was looking for business partners. Or maybe a couple of suckers. Which one would depend on whatever came out of his mouth next.

═

** indicates lines robbed directly from True Detective (Because you know I wish I came up with that soft brains line but alas, I am no Nic Pizzolato)

taglist: @narcolini @narcosfandomdiscord

[copiousloverofcopia]

Here is the next chapter of angst and romance for Primo and Sister to be Guinevere!

Thank you as always for your patience and I hope you all like it, especially you @the-cardinale lol

(PLEASE SEE TAGS)

Potpourri

During his retirement, Papa Primo Emeritus falls in love with a new Sister of Sin who has suffered a tragic loss. While the new sister settles into the Abbey, Primo can't help but grow more infatuated with her. Promising to give her everything she desires, but can he win her affections when she still can't let go of the past?

Chapter 3: The Ties That Bind

Also available HERE on AO3! Needing to start from the beginning, click HERE.

The feel of the pillow, pressed gently against her cheek, was the most welcomed feeling she’d had in a long time. Tears were steadily rolling over her cheeks as Gwen curled up on the bed. Her mascara, staining the white cotton—a beautiful and melancholic pattern that spoke the pain inside her soul. It was over.

She was left empty. The attempt at mending her wounded soul, had left her just as barren and barely stitched together as she was before. Would there be no mercy? No return for things lost. 

Gwen sobbed, holding tight to that damn pillow, as if it held what was left of hope within its threads. Her child was truly gone forever to the infinite nothing. Gone without her ever having known them. She clenched her teeth, the tears coming faster and faster. 

She felt lied to. Was she really asking for too much? What had she done to deserve such an egregious thing? God was long dead, and now her hope for Lucifer’s blessings fell short of its promises. Promises she had already known, somewhere deep down, were too good to be true. 

Her heart felt as if it may burst in her chest. The ache that comes from a loss that cannot be described in words—only feelings. A true bittersweet feeling of having something so precious and losing it before it could be held. She knew now she was never going to have what she wanted and there was absolutely nothing she could do. 

The Abbey had felt more alive than it had in years. The halls were spry with excitement and more than the usual buzzing, in the weeks after the group's arrival. The vigor and eagerness the novitiate and seminarians brought with them, had revitalized even Secondo’s cold and standoffish demeanor. The Abbey, and its inhabitants, had already incorporated them all seamlessly into daily life. It was as if they had been there all along. 

It had lived up to its promise for most, giving them a life that could be lived deliciously. Truly a place where even the blackest of sheep would be welcomed into the flock. Things were going so well for everyone and in a few short days, each and every fledgling would take their ceremonial "fall from heaven" and land in the bosom of Satan. All of them, taking their vows and performing their rituals to become wholly siblings of sin. 

It would be a time to remember. It was said, rumors spreading like wildfire through the Abbey, that Papa Copia would be returning for a few days to help with the officiation of their siblinghood. All of them beaming with excitement and nerves as they waited for any sign he had returned. First however would be confession, a moment for them to unburden their souls before entering their new lives. 

As with any confession, no one would “know” who was on either end of the partition. The Papas, all taking turns throughout the day to listen to them. In and out the siblings went. Some were crying, however wearing a smile spread across their faces, as they left the booth. Feeling the heavy weight of the life lead before, fading away as they began anew. 

Other’s smiled both in and out. Though some were in carnal satisfaction—considered to be well spent time in confession. The offending Papa, looking just as stupid-faced and dewy cheeked with pleasure, with their shared sin. Sister Imperator was amazed with both Secondo and Terzo’s appetites, that anything was getting done. 

When it came for Primo’s to take his turn, he was humbled. Ever grateful for his position within the church, he adjusted his chasuble before entering. The first Emeritus son, taking pride in his robes more than any other Papa before or after him. His connection with the realm beyond, and his appreciation for the old ways, giving him a closer tie than anyone to the Unholy Father.

He lowered himself down onto the chair, running his hands over the fabric to flatten the wrinkles and taking a deep breath in. The scent of incense and sweat, hitting him full force has he inhaled. Primo scoffed, muttering to himself in Italian at his annoyance with his brothers. “They could at least wipe things down and spray something.” Primo said as he heard the booth door open. 

“Papa?” A voice came from the other side of the screen, Primo knew instantly who it was. It had been weeks since the dinner, his answer to Gwen’s questions leading her back to her dorm in devastation. Primo had avoided being too close to her since. Worried that talking with him, even in passing, may reignite her sadness. But it seemed it didn’t matter. 

From that day on she had continued as usual. Returning to the refectory the next morning as if nothing had happened. He watched her, grabbing her food and sitting among the others. Selling the facade of being alright and like nothing had changed. Her performance so well, he was sure that she'd fooled all the others. Primo could tell though, her aura, still pale and just barely noticeable giving her away.

Ever since he saw her that first day, he was captivated by her. Primo, longing still to get to know her—even if just to listen to her speak. To hear what she thought of everything. Though things had not gone well so far, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her. Desiring to be close to her, even after learning about her past.

“Please, my child. Unburden yourself.” Primo said softly. Gwen sat down on the small stool within the booth, hands trembling and her heart beating fast inside her chest. 

“Papa, I have something I wish to…” Gwen sighed, clearly struggling to find her next words. Primo couldn’t help but smile. Her voice was still ever so sweet and kind. Though he could hear beneath it, the hints of sadness. Like the gentle trickling of piano keys or the glide of a violin’s bow–played in melodic minor.

He was invested in whatever it was she would confess. Ready to be there to help her through it all, imagining himself by her side. He felt surprised, as the thoughts washed over him. It had been so long since he’d heard her sweet voice. He knew in that moment that he had already begun to develop feelings for her. His heart, fluttering as she began to speak once more.  

“I want to apologize for wasting the Ministry's time.” she confessed, Primo, sitting up straight in his chair at her words. Confused and worried at their implication. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“No…I’m sorry…you see I came here under false pretenses.” she confessed. Primo was ready to go to her. To meet her on the other side of the booth. Taking her in his arms and telling her that everything would be ok. He could hear her struggling to hold back tears. Her voice, cracking a bit between words as she continued on.

“Please child go on.” he said, battling his instinct to retrieve her. 

“I didn’t come here because I wanted to worship Lucifer or so that I might live a life true to my nature in sin. I came because I wanted something. Something that I now know I will never get, and I fear I have wasted all of your time and for that I apologize. I will be leaving soon, before the rituals and I wanted someone to know. I wasn’t sure how to go about it any other way.” she explained sniffling back as Primo took his turn to speak. 

“You can still find happiness here.” he told her, listening to her laugh—one Primo was sure was accompanied by tears. 

“N othing here is worth staying for.”  

“Nothing? What about you…aren't you worth it?”

“No.” Gwen replied, the tears escaping her eyes and flowing freely. 

“Remember dolce, he fell so that we might be burned in the rivers of eternal flame. So that we all might know the truth of ourselves, unabashed by the will of God. So that we can all be happy…even you.” Primo explained, hoping in vain that his words would change her mind. Worried that she’d follow through and leave—only after he was beginning to understand his feelings for her. His cosmic draw to forever by her side. 

“I appreciate that, but I will be taking my leave. Please forgive me Papa…Nema.” Gwen finished, standing up and exiting the booth. Primo moved faster than he had in years, flinging open the door and revealing himself to her. Their eyes, locked together outside the confession booth.

“Papa Primo?” she asked, wiping quickly at her eyes to hide the tears that had fallen.

“Si…I need to confess something to you as well.” he told her. Gwen stared at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. Allowing him to speak his peace before she left, knowing she intended to never return. 

“I’m sorry—”

“Guinevere…I know.”

“Know what Papa?” Gwen asked him. She waited, hoping her gut instinct was wrong. That he didn't know what was eating away at her inside. When Primo’s own eyes began to fill with tears, it only served to confirm he knew before speaking the words.  

“I know about the baby.” he admitted, watching the color drain from Gwen’s face. He could tell she was fighting hard not to cry again. Resisting the overwhelming desire to fall apart before him. Frightened with the need to be held by him—a man she barely knew. 

“I need to go now.” was all Gwen could say, turning away from Primo and starting down the nave. Primo reached out quickly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to face him. Both of them for a moment wondering if they’d share a kiss. A kiss that didn’t come, only more tears to shed between them. 

“The cost of these small desires is great, and I know you've paid a heavy price. I am sorry that I didn’t know before we spoke at your arrival dinner. My answer and my brother's comments may have been less harsh had we known.

“It’s not your fault Papa. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go.” Gwen said, pulling back hard from Primo’s grasp and briskly taking off. He watched her disappear from the chapel as he slumped against the door of the booth. His heart, heavy and his mind fixed on his affections for her. 

The rest of the day was quiet. Primo spent the rest of afternoon in confession, though his mind stayed on Guinevere. By the time supper rolled around, he was ravenous for the evening's bounty. The stress increasing his hunger as he listened to the sounds of his stomach growling.

As Primo took his seat at the front of the refectory, he felt more at ease.  Everyone was eating peacefully, all gathered together as they did every night. The hum of shared community and conversation, floating in the air. Primo, who was normally an active participant in the debates and pleasantries at mealtimes, chose now to say quiet in his chair. His lack of quick-witted commentary and polite suggestions did not go unnoticed. 

“What's got you all glum?” Terzo asked, his voice breaking through Primo's inner thoughts. He looked up from his plate, setting down his fork and dapping the corners of his mouth with his napkin before speaking.

“Non è niente, per favore non me ne vogliate.” he replied. Mr. Saltarian now watching his reaction to the question. Noticing the minor changes in his behavior—something was indeed bothering him. Sister Imperator interrupted. A trait Primo found most distasteful, but so very much a common occurrence for her. 

“Papa, I did notice you’ve been a bit distracted tonight. Worried about the rituals tomorrow?” she laughed teasing him. Primo gave an insincere smile back. She was contemptible in her disregard to the Papacy. Choosing to act as if she were on their level. Primo, allowing it only to keep the peace between her and Papa Nihil. His father, who now was nothing more than spirit of unrest that resided in Imperator's wing of the Abbey. 

“Of course, not Sister.” he replied, feeling the hand resting on his shoulder. Primo gave a glance back to see Saltarian taking a seat beside him. “I am just ready for Copia to be home, I have missed him so much these last few weeks.”

“Oh, then the rumors are true?” delighted a sibling from another table, the whole room taking notice. Primo smiled at Sister Imperator, watching her face fill with subtle irritation. It was to be her announcement at dinner. Two can play at this game , he thought to himself, stealing the moment from her. 

“Well now that the cat is out of the bag…” Sister Imperator said, addressing the siblings and the others. Allowing Primo and Saltarian a moment to speak. 

“So, tell me know amico…what has actually got you in so deep in your own head?” he asked. Primo adjusted in his chair, collecting his thoughts before answering him. He wasn’t sure if he should tell him about the interaction at all, let alone his feelings for Gwen. It was only today that Primo had truly began to understand them.  

“Honestly Salare…it's Guinevere.” Of course, it was and Saltarian already knew. Still however he wanted to hear it from Primo’s own mouth. Primo chewed on his bottom lip a bit more before continuing. “I spoke with her at confession today.”

“I see and I assume she told you the truth during it?” Mr. Saltarian asked him.

“Actually, she told me that she made a mistake coming here…” Primo explained before Saltarian interrupted him.

“What do you mean?”

“She said she wasn’t worth it and nothing else here was either. That she was sorry she wasted our time. There is something else…” Primo mentioned, taking in a deep breath as he prepared to confess his feelings to his best friend when suddenly Saltarian stood up from the table, catching the eyes of all three Emeritus brothers and some of the Papal ghouls. 

“She said those words?!” Saltarian asked, commanding an answer. Extremely bold for him, as Primo was Papa, but the implications of his disregard for position sent an icy chill down Primo’s spine. He shot up out his chair too, now realizing that Gwen was nowhere in the refectory. Suddenly it all made sense. She was not just planning on leaving the Abbey.

“Sweet Lucifer!” Primo said as he and Saltarian left the table—Secondo, Terzo, and a few ghouls trailing quickly behind them. Only Primo and Saltarian knew what was going on, making their way as fast as they could to the pledge dormitory

When they reached the dorms, Secondo and Terzo got a feeling they knew what might be happening. There was a moment, during their race to the sibling wing, when the shaky conversation between Primo and Saltarian tipped them off. Though they knew not the details, they knew that a sibling was missing from dinner and with the look on their brother and Mr. Saltarian’s face, they had a pretty good idea as to the reason why.

It wasn’t the first time a tragedy had taken place at the Abbey. This time it felt personal, the two of them watching as Primo’s face filled with pain and panic. There was more to this story than anyone was letting on.  When they arrived at the dorm, they let themselves inside. There was no one there, just a pair of empty beds to greet them. Then suddenly one of the ghouls took a deep inhale, his nose twitching away as he spoke. 

“Is that…blood?” he asked, Primo’s pupils widening as he was now able to smell it himself. The scent emanating from behind the closed door of the bathroom.  

“Oh cazzo, no!” he yelled, breaking down the door with the help of the ghouls. The broken wood, quickly, revealing Gwen laying in a bathtub tinted red with blood. Her wrists were slit, down the center of her forearms. Her face, stained with tears. 

Primo rushed inside, pulling her limp body out of the tub. The water spilling over the sides and onto the floor around them. She was unconscious but still, barely, alive. The shallow breathing, just barely noticeable as she was quickly slipping away.

“She's lost so much blood.” Terzo stammered, taking in the horror and shock of the scene before him.

“Quick, get me…. me some ribbon and the black and red bottle from the top shelf of my storage closet in the greenhouse…NOW!” Primo ordered. His voice, a tone none had ever heard before—one that sent the ghouls running off at an unimaginable pace. Ready to fetch all that was asked of them. 

“Fratello she’s too far gone.” Secondo reasoned, Primo would hear none of it, holding Gwen close to his chest, both of them drenched in bath water and blood. Primo began to weep, he would do anything to bring her back. It was not her time, he knew it. If she only knew she could be happy again. 

“No! I will not let her go.” Primo hissed, rocking her in his arms. The ghouls returned in record time, with the ribbon and the bottle. Primo quickly worked to pour the liquid from inside it over her wounds. Tying the ribbon around her wrists and then, his own.

“You can’t be serious?” Secondo growled, knowing now exactly what his brother planned to do. 

“I am.”

“Are you willing to die with her when she chooses this again?” he yelled, angry with Primo.

“She won’t.” Primo assured him, pulling tight the tie around his own wrist with his teeth. Primo grabbed a knife from his pocket, slicing open his palm. He winced as he squeezed his hand over Gwen’s wrists and holding them steady. Mixing her blood with his as he began to chant. 

“Rinuncio all'autonomia della mia vita per tenere ancora una volta la tua anima con il vaso. Ti do una seconda possibilità con un sacrificio del sangue che scorre nelle mie vene. Guarisci il tuo vaso in modo che tu ed io possiamo essere uno per sempre nella sua vita. Ciò che è sopra, lascia che sia così sotto.” he spoke with intention. His words methodically and carefully pronounced as they left his lips. 

The room filled with silence a moment before the old floorboards began to shake beneath them. The ghouls and brothers, staggering backward as they caught themselves on various things within the room. Primo still with Gwen on the floor, tears of blood beginning to pour from his eyes as he wept for Guinevere. The ribbon tied between them began to tighten—pulsing with energy before it disappeared into both of their skin. The supple flesh of Gwen’s arm slowly returning to return to her—leaving only a small scar in its wake. The blush of color had returned to her cheeks, her pulse no longer thready, and the blood that surrounded them gone. No trace of any of it had been left behind—as if it never happened.

Primo stood up, slowly lifting Gwen into his arms. He was not a young man, but a strong one nonetheless. Though he cursed, under his breath, the age that had taken hold in his knees. He continued on carrying Gwen within his embrace towards the door.

Secondo stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder to remind him he was there. Everyone else in the room, including Terzo, too stunned to speak. Primo was indeed powerful and it was this night, only like any before it that he had proved it to them. “Fratello?” Secondo asked, as Primo turned to facing both his brothers. A sense of relief finally filling him. 

“She will make it; I have made sure of that. I will bring her back to my suite so that I may keep close watch on her.” he started, watching as the need to speak, yanked hard on Secondo’s mouth. “...and I will hear nothing from any of you.” Primo told them as he carried her off to his rooms. Gwen, still unconscious and unaware of anything that had happened, loose in Primo’s loving arms.  

“It’s alright amore. I will walk with you through this…this life…and the next.” Primo whispered, kissing the top of her head as they entered his rooms.

Notes:

Non è niente, per favore non me ne vogliate.- It is nothing, please don’t mind me.

Amico- friend

Salare- salt

oh cazzo, no!- oh fuck, no!

Rinuncio all'autonomia della mia vita per tenere ancora una volta la tua anima con il vaso. Ti do una seconda possibilità con un sacrificio del sangue che scorre nelle mie vene. Guarisci il tuo vaso in modo che tu ed io possiamo essere uno per sempre nella sua vita. Ciò che è sopra, lascia che sia così sotto.. I give you a second chance with a sacrifice of the blood that runs through my veins. Heal your vessel so that you and I can be one forever in his life. What is above, let it be so below.

[yeonchi]

SPPDM 20th Commentary Part H: Peace At Last

(Art by my_ka_ella, tapita_de_pan, Ashp3nes, arasessarego, donitellav, Carnal Oficial, mura.in.artistland, Necrolyzer92)

We have finally reached the end, everyone. After years of school, fighting and questions left unanswered, the Salacians finally receive the closure they were missing to achieve their happy ever after, whether it's the princes and princesses, or the kings and queens.

This part serves as the epilogue to the story, showing important events in the decade following the war to wrap things up. I hope you enjoy my take on the future of Salacia.

Check out the story here:

Now that the story has been fully published, this is your last chance to join the Discord servers before the invite links are revoked at the end of the year. If you want to meet the renaissance fanbase on Discord servers that are pretty much dead in the water and only revived for the purpose of promoting this event fanfic or the Into the Liamverse series, then please feel free to join.

Please note that the renaissance fandom is predominately made up of Sea Princesses fans from Latin America, hence there are separate channels for Spanish and English languages.

Server de Princesas del Mar

Salacia en Discord!

Chapter 36 covers the immediate aftermath of the war, including Parker and Trebon's trial at the ICC and the armistice negotiations. Parker and Trebon declare a ceasefire between Dryland and Salacia, with future plans to negotiate an armistice and a peace treaty, before they are taken to Yokohama.

During this time, there are protests happening all across Dryland and Salacia - there's people on both extremes going "Why didn't you kill the other side" or "You were supposed to be our saviour" because the two sides decided to call a ceasefire, but in this situation I think a lot of people were glad to hear that the war was over and that the two sides can coexist in peace. Grudges between the two sides would continue to exist, but most people on either side would realise that the people on the other side are just like them and that they can bring value to their societies. Parker and Trebon encounter one such protest upon arriving in Yokohama, but they try not to pay any attention to them.

After they were placed into the holding cells at UNIT HQ, Parker and Trebon were allowed to greet their visitors; for Parker, it was his brother while for Trebon, it was his closest family and friends. Later that night, Parker is called up again as Tubarina wanted to talk with him. Since their fight at the beach in Chapter 2, Tubarina became intrigued by Parker and wanted to find out more about him, hence why she asked Mr Chain about him in Chapter 4. Parker questions Tubarina's motives, but Tubarina insists that she will be there for him as he returns to his cell. Parker tells Trebon about this encounter, which gives him the idea to matchmake Parker with Tubarina in a political marriage.

The next day, Parker and Trebon are flown to the Netherlands, where they are held at the ICC detention centre in The Hague pending trial. At the same time, Angelina and the others are brought before a court in Santos. They are convicted on all counts of their crimes and in an unexpected and coordinated move, they are all given suspended life sentences (except for Marli and Socita who were sentenced to 10 years' imprisonment suspended) for 10 years as long as they undertake international community service with the intention of “fostering and propagating peace between Dryland and Salacia”. They would be imprisoned for two to ten times their remaining sentence if they deserted their posts.

While the trials were happening, the Divine Princesses and the rest of Parker's generals negotiated an armistice. We then see some characters receive closure on their lingering threads before Parker and the Shark King are brought back to Santos. Parker and Angelina see off their fellow generals as they prepare to head back to Melbongkong. Tubarina decides to follow Parker and she has a heartfelt farewell with her family and friends.

The next chapter, Chapter 37, focuses on the first year after the conclusion of the war, with the Dryland-Salacia Peace Conference being held to negotiate peace treaties between two worlds. Given how wars have a winner and a loser, Miss Marla suggested that the war be declared a draw, meaning that neither side won or lost the war, plus both worlds had to pay reparations to each other.

The treaties were signed and soon enough, a year had passed since the signing of the armistice. That day would be declared Surf and Turf Peace Day, a day akin to Anzac Day or Remembrance Day in Australia and New Zealand. In the morning, there's a remembrance ceremony at the Bubbles Lighthouse, then there's a parade in the afternoon, and then in the evening, there's a dinner gala concert, featuring different kinds of songs including those that were used in our animated adaptations, referenced in the story, used by Liamasterink in his music videos or just some meaningful songs I picked. I know it's weird to have dirty songs and twerking at a dinner gala where there are children probably present, but I just want to get this story over with at this point.

Chapter 38 takes place a few years after the war as the princes and princesses of Salacia marry their love interests. Because of all the marriages being announced at the same time, it was decided to hold a mass royal wedding in the style of a debutante/deb ball, or as schools have taken to calling it in recent years, a presentation ball.

Deb balls are events where girls from noble families who have reached maturity are "presented" to society and displayed to bachelors and their families. This continues to be a tradition in Australia, with presentation balls usually being organised by high schools, church groups or service clubs (Lions/Rotary) for students in Year 11. They perform a number of dances and sometimes they get the parents/the audience in on one as well.

I didn't participate in the deb and my high school crush didn't participate either, but a couple of her friends did and she and her other friends were invited to be in the audience. Normally, couples are discouraged to "do the deb" with each other, but I can think of at least one couple who ended up going out after meeting at deb… and then breaking up a few years later. You wouldn't believe how much I wanted to kill-

So anyway, because the wedding and deb ball are merged into one event, a bunch of traditions from both have been discarded. Only 16 couples are shown here because, as I said in the commentary for Part G, I wanted to leave the floor open for other ships people may have.

Most of the ships are inspired from the animated series or taken from Liamasterink, but I had to make quite a few changes because I am not a fan of incest ships. This is why Tubarina and Marcello marry Parker and Elektra while Hugo and Tata's love interests are left ambiguous. Marcia/Marcela is only referenced in passing because it's ambiguous as to whether she's getting married or she's just in the audience with her family. Liam paired her up with the Chief Diviner's daughter Liziana in a lesbian ship, but there wasn't much reason to show it because Liziana isn't a focus character here. I paired Marli with Liam Pitara because of how Liamasterink raved about her when he started posting Sea Princesses content, then I paired Socita with Mauricio/MJZD because they were left over.

Honestly, the Shark King saying to Parker in Chapter 36 that Tubarina doesn't have a love interest because no boy in Salacia was ever good enough for her is a direct reflection of my thoughts, because when you set aside her cousin Marcello, I don't see anyone else who could be a match for her. Maurico (the Sea Urchin Prince) is an option but he's already with Vivi, and Seretao is another option but his original character in my personal project (Zhuge Shu) is already married to someone else, plus they haven't interacted much in the first place.

So then, we've got 16 couples getting married with Fabio Yabusaki and Miss Marla taking turns officiating each one. It's a schizophrenically jumpy scene and I'm here for the craziness. I don't need to tell you that Liamasterink inspired this scene as well. Following this we have the presentation dances, along with the special performances of 新宝島, Over Quartzer and Journey Through the Decade. I've attached IconX's math operations dance set to 新宝島 below, as that is what the boys were dancing while the girls did a cheerleading routine.

While they were still in the grooms' room, Liam and Mauricio were talking about what they would get from the kebab station, and they mentioned that they would get chicken snack packs. The snack packs they are talking about are known in Australia as halal snack packs or HSPs, though there may also be different names depending on the state. HSPs consist of a kebab meat over a tub of chips topped with three sauces, usually BBQ, garlic and chili.

HSPs were popularised during the federal election day of 2016 when right-wing anti-Islam politician Pauline Hanson refused a request from Labor senator Sam Dastyari for one, saying that she wasn't "interested in halal". Mind you, this was a time before the worst people I knew made good points. Hanson and her party, One Nation, claims that buying halal certified products "financially supports the Islamisation of Australia" when it is not the case.

Before we continue, I want to point out that there are song lyrics quoted during the dinner gala concert and the wedding reception/debutante presentation dances in Chapters 37 and 38, along with Chapter 2 of Combo Rangers: Operation Wagan. FanFiction.net's rules state that copying song lyrics is "technically" not allowed, so to avoid copyright issues and vexatious vigilantes (on a site that has very little official moderation than it appears), I've removed the lyrics from those chapters on the site. They will remain on the PDF and eBook versions of those stories and if any other issues arise following this, they will be looked into accordingly.

And so we come to the time skip epilogue, something that I've had in mind for some time now. The princes and princesses have gotten married, they've now become the kings and queens of their respective kingdoms and they've also started their own families in a three-year baby boom just like how it was when they were born. It's been at least another decade since the end of the war and at least two decades (in my case, nearly three) since the royals went to their first day of school.

Where does that leave us in terms of timelining? In the Part D commentary, I said that this story takes place in 2018 and by my theory the original series is set in 2004, therefore the princes and princesses were born 1996-1998, which would make them 20-22 years old in 2018. The trial and peace negotiations take place in the year following the end of the war, so 2019. I set the weddings to take place in 2022 (just after the coronavirus pandemic) so the royals would be 24-26, but if you like, it can really be any year up to, say 2030. The baby boom takes place from 2024-2026, 20 years after the original series, making them 26-28. Now do you see why I set the series in 2018 when they were younger?

The epilogue is meant to take place the same number of years after the war as the number of years after the start of the original series, which in my case would be 2032. The next generation of princes and princesses are 6-8 years old, just as their parents were back in 2004, hence they would be 34-36 years old. Given how 28 years have passed, you can argue that it might as well be three decades.

If you subscribe to the theory that the series takes place in 2008, then the princes and princesses would be born in 2000-2002. Adjust the ages by four years and reduce the timeskip to 10 years so that the post-timeskip scene takes place in 2028 when they are 26-28 years old. Anyway, back to my theory as we finish off the story.

Now that the princes and princesses have become kings and queens and had children of their own who are about to begin school, Chapter 39 take us into a day in the life of the major royal families during the holiday period before the school year starts. Polvina's sexual inhibitions were unleashed after marrying Daniel and she became a bad and sexy princess - or rather, queen who is intimate with her husband; Ester and Duante led the Iemanja Alliance, an alliance of guardians including the Octonauts and Bubble Guppies; while Tubarina and Parker were staying at the Shark Palace for a holiday so they could help their children be accustomed to staying in the Shark Palace before they began school (like how Marcello stayed at the Shark Palace . They are seen together with Marcello, Elektra, Veto and Soraia as they attend a private dawn service at the Salacian War Memorial.

The intimate interactions between Polvina and Daniel here are written in a way that they can be excised or cut to make it more friendly to younger viewers, even though I did say from the very start that this event fanfic is directed at adults and it shows the characters as adults. Remember this point if you're going to criticise me for hornyposting.

After breakfast, the Octopus, Starfish and Shark royal families meet up and do some mainies, meeting other royal families while they do so. They have lunch together before they head off to do their separate activites; the dads and sons head to an indoor play centre; Elektra, Soraia and their mothers meet up with their families and friends at the mall; while Polvina, Ester and Tubarina take their daughters to the thermal spring pond from the end of Part E, where they talk about breasts, boobs, tits, whatever you want to call them. A man writing a sex ed scene between women and their daughters. What other ridiculous bullshit will liberals accuse conservatives of next? The chapter then closes off with a brief description of a dinner scene with the grandparents, the former kings and queens who have retired to the Farlands.

Finally, Chapter 40 brings us to the children's first day of school. With Mr Gippson having retired and Mr Bernardo being semi-retired yet still available as a casual relief/substitute teacher, three new teachers join Miss Marla in teaching the next generation of kings and queens; Seretao, the former Shark King Trebon and the former Octopus Queen Vinila, who decided to return to teaching after many years.

The day begins with a school admission ceremony attended by the whole school along with the parents and grandparents of the new students as well. The new students introduce themselves before Miss Marla puts on a short movie about the history of Salacia and tells the new students about the New Laws of Salacia:

Respect all people and beings on planet Earth.

Practice good, goodwill and generosity.

Take care of your homes or kingdoms.

Take care of others’ homes or kingdoms.

Respect all realms, kingdoms, countries, lands and seas as one.

The story ends with Polvina, Ester, Tubarina, Daniel, Duante and Parker talking about eternities after Miss Marla tells the students that their twelve years of school would feel like an eternity for them, because with everything that's happened over their entire lives, let alone two or three decades, it might as well have been two or three eternities. The friends (except Parker) all have a laugh at the very end, a staple of the animated series that has even happened a few times in this story.

And with some final words, the story comes to an end. Salacia and Dryland together again, land, sea and planet Earth forever. Though our worlds may be different, we, after all, are one.

Chapters 39 and 40 contain callbacks to the short story Mothers and Daughters, the first few chapters of the main series book The World of Salacia, and the first animated series episode Lost, just to loop back to where it all began. And as I said, not everyone is seen here because I want to keep interpretations as open as I can, hence the only Drylanders we see in the epilogue are Daniel, Parker, Liam and Mauricio.

There may have been other callbacks that I've missed because they're small, in which case I apologise for not listing them in my commentaries. This story is a pretty long one and I've been working on this between other projects, not to mention that I'm still reviewing and making changes even after the chapters have been published. If you've watched the animated series and read the books, then hopefully you'll have caught the references without me needing to point it out to you.

With the end of Part H, it's finally Peace at Last as the Sea Princesses 20th anniversary event fanfic, The Conquerors of the Lost and Found, comes to a close. There will be a final epilogue commentary post just to wrap things up (particularly because the commentary for this part and the last part are long enough as they are), so stay tuned for that.

After three months, the saga has finally come to a close. I hope you enjoyed the Sea Princesses 20th anniversary event fanfic and tie-ins just as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you all for your readership and support.

PDF and eBook versions of the stories are available on Google Drive.

(Art by marcelo_artz, Reino Dourado, LuaLuinho, lux_ludum_, deiskzi, ilustra.anarrodrigues, kracu.m, Nathaiisy)

[aliceward]

What Does it Mean to Dream About a Black Woman

Dreams about black women are a type of dream that are difficult to understand. There are many meanings and symbologies involved with dreams about black women, so it can be challenging to comprehend what they mean. These types of dreams may allude to the following concepts: civilization, achievement, success, and fertility.

An overview of what the dream means is difficult to pinpoint since it can take many forms. It could be an expression of your inner self or a reflection on society. Everything depends on the context and personal interpretation. Ancient Egyptian tomb paintings depict people with black skin wearing white clothing, which might suggest that they wanted their dead bodies to blend in with the afterlife world where everyone was painted as being dark-skinned, so this would not happen if someone had dreamed about brown or black skin.

What Does it Mean to Dream About a Black Woman

In a dream, if you see someone with brown or black skin, it is about culture. We should not divide the world based on our color - we are all equal from within. The fact that in your dream, there’s either white or black does not matter because this is just a reflection of yourself. In order to get a preview of what dreams mean when they have colors, we need to look at them both spiritually and through ancient books containing examples of people’s experiences when dreaming these symbols.

Dreams about people with brown or black skin are just a reflection of your inner self that is appearing differently on the external level. It doesn’t matter what color the person is because we’re all one on the inside, and that’s all that matters! To gain an overview of these dreams, you need to look at them from not only a spiritual context but also through the wisdom offered by ancient dream books.

Dreams About Black Women: Fertility And Pregnancy

People often dream about a black woman while facing issues related to fertility and pregnancy. The relationship between a person’s mind and their body is robust, meaning that feelings in one area may impact another area of your life. Many people who face infertility or hormone-related issues report dreaming about black women frequently, possibly due to these factors affecting other parts of their lives as well.

Dream about dating a black woman

If you dream about dating a black woman, it means that you have a desire to be dominated or need an authority figure in your life.

Dream about marrying a black woman

If you dream about marrying a black woman, it means that you are seeking companionship and intimacy. You may also want to feel protected or safe. This can also symbolize some new phase in your life where you are gaining more independence from the people who were there for you before.

Dream about having sex with a black woman

Imagining sex with a black woman in a dream represents hidden desires that are emerging from within your subconscious mind. You might be feeling more sexual than usual or wanting someone else more intensely than average due to emotional reasons, perhaps because of feelings related to love, affection, betrayal, or resentment towards another person.

Did you see a dream about person with dark skin? One of the most popular interpretations of seeing a black person in a dream is upcoming acquaintance with a very interesting and unusual person.

If you dreamed that you were having sex with a black man, it means that you are tired of the monotony in sexual relations with your partner in real life. Modern dreambook calls for more experimenting in bed and talking openly about your desires. Otherwise, if this is not done in due time, you can lose a loved one.

To see a black person as a sex partner in a dream can also mean changing a lover. Dream interpretation of Grishina is convinced that a new boyfriend or girlfriend will give you a lot of unforgettable minutes filled with carnal pleasures. If you dream that intercourse with a black man hurts you, this means there will be problems with sexual satisfaction. The dream can also predict disappointment in your beloved and a coming separation from him for this reason.

If a woman kisses an African American in her dream, then in reality she wants some change. Otherwise, the development of depression is not excluded, which will be extremely difficult to cope with.

If you like the dream sex, think about trying something completely new for yourself. Modern dreambook recommends overcoming your fears and think about the fact that life is not forever.

If you dream that you are giving birth to a black baby, then definitely, in reality you are too concerned about the problem of childbearing and the subsequent upbringing of offspring. Do not get so hung up on this issue. If a black child in your dream was crying bitterly, then in reality a problem with conception would arise for a long time.

To dream of small black children - to a fun adventure. You will be able to have fun with friends and relax. If the children were sad or even cried, this means that many worries will arise in reality. To cope with them will not be easy, but possible. Universal dream book recommends seeking advice from someone close to you.

If you dream that a black child is splashing, having fun in the water and laughing fuzzily, you can make your old dream come true and you will go to the sea. If a black kid who has dreamed gave you some advice, try to remember it. There is a chance that this will help in making an important decision.

If the African American child looked weak and was wearing old torn clothes, this is a symbol of hard times coming. A lot of unpleasant incidents will undermine your self-confidence and bring you a lot of worries.

If you dreamed that a black person was surrounded by his offspring, this may be a symbol of replenishment in your family as well. A black man who scolds his sons and daughters promises quarrels with people and colleagues around you. Try not to aggravate the conflict situation with its excessive emotionality.

Some dreambooks think that talking to a black man in a dream means that hope will leave you. If you dreamed that a black woman tells a funny story and at the same time laughs infectiously, this is a symbol of joy and happiness. Anything you think of will be easy to implement.

If the black woman complains and cries, the dreambook of the Wanderer believes that such a plot is a sign of impending sadness and trouble.

If you dreamed that a black person talked about faith, you would become a pious man and often attend church.

If you dream that you are running away from a black man, which means that in reality you are desperately trying to change your life for the better.

To dream of a black woman sorting out exotic fruits means to travel to distant countries. During the trip you will be able to learn a lot of interesting things.

Miller believes that to beat a black person in a dream is a bad sign. It will take many months to carry out miserable existence. You will be desperately unlucky with work, with money and in personal life. Only friends and relatives will be able to help overcome the bad luck.

If you dream that the black man stole your wallet, get ready for financial problems. If a black man in a dream unexpectedly saved you from hooligans, in reality a close person will help you overcome the difficulties.

If the black man asked for alms, then someone from people you know will desperately need support. Help a person cope with adversity and fate will thank you in return.

Dreamed black woman, according to a psychologist Miller, heralds possible troubles. For business people, to see a dark-skinned girl in a dream, means that you should be careful not only with your competitors but with your partners as well.

If a girl saw a black woman in the night plot, Miller talks about a man in your environment who uses the dreamer for his own interests.

To people who have seen themselves as black people, dream book of Meneghetti advises to get rid of anger and resentment, filling your soul. And the darker your skin is, the more powerful your emotions are. The girl, who dreamed that she is a black woman, needs to tame her temper and cope with jealousy, which can destroy trust with the second half.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Night Driving (Drew Starkey)

Author's Notes: This is a continuance of the request Night Swimming - I had so much fun writing that request that I wanted to make a second part, and you all said "heck yes". Here we go. Let me know what you think if you have a moment, please! It's admittedly shorter that Night Swimming, but I don't think it's any less fun and I hope you love it all just the same! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smutty(ish) - some clothes are removed. Lots of touching, and kissing.

Requested? Yes! You all wanted a sequel, and I couldn't help myself to write one either. Requests for OBX are also very much open.

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Drew picked her up for dinner on a mild evening for dinner. He was on time like he always was, pulling up into the driveway with a flash of his high beams at her just to make her smile as she stood on the front porch while she waited for him.

"Hey, good looking." Drew grinned as he hopped out of his truck and took the few shorts steps to stand in front of his girl.

"Hey, handsome." She smiled as she placed her hands on his sides, pressing up on her toes to be closer to his height.

"Ready to go?" Drew asked while he wrapped one arm around her waist, then dropped his head down to press his lips to hers quickly. He smiled softly at her little pout, then led her towards the passenger side of his truck.

Drew opened the door for her, his hand gripped to hers as he helped her into the truck. He raised his eyebrows and felt his conviction to be on time for dinner begin to fade as he saw a flash of her backside under her little skirt. Drew pursed his lips as he shut the door once she was settled safely in the front seat then made his way around to the driver's side, his fingertips brushing over the scruff of his chin as his mind began to race.

"Let's go! I'm so hungry!" She groaned out as she pressed her hands to the roof of his truck, her head against the headrest.

Drew smiled softly as he started the ignition of the truck and made his way back out of the drive, and towards their destination. The drive to the restaurant where everyone else was meeting them felt long. It was a place they all frequented, and Drew knew the route well. But for some reason the drive today felt excruciatingly long.

Drew reached the turn off for the restaurant, but kept driving. His eyes focused on the road as one hand clutched the steering wheel as the other ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

"Wasn't that our turn?" She questioned as she turned her body to look out her window at the passing street sign.

"Gonna take the back roads. Nicer drive. Less traffic." Drew mumbled as he took a quick left turn onto a bumpy, dirt path that had her squealing and reaching for the handle above her window.

"Drew! There's nothing out here! Where are we going?" She replied, her knees pressed together. She reached for the dashboard with one hand as the other kept her white knuckle grip on the handlebar over her window.

Drew didn't say anything in response. He simply kept driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. A small smile on his face as he heard her squeal again as they hit the larger bumps in the dirt path. He found a spot on the side of the road that was covered by some trees, his truck still somewhat visible in the light of dusk. He pulled over, put the car in park and pulled up the emergency brake just to be sure.

"That is just cruel." Drew stated firmly with a jab of his index finger towards the short, pleated black skirt she wore.

He pulled his keys out of the ignition and dropped them in the cup holder in the centre console. He ran a hand over his chin, his fingertips catching on the scruff of his chin.

"You don't like my skirt?" She asked as her fingertips tugged at the hem of her skirt, the fabric pulling up her thighs a little more.

Drew breathed out a laugh before he reached over to the passenger side, unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her hips. He pulled her over the console and placed his girlfriend on his lap to make her straddle his thighs.

"I like it a lot, and I think you knew that when you put it on." Drew muttered as he placed his hands beneath the short hem of her skirt on the backs of her thighs.

"This road doesn't go anywhere. Does it, Starkey?" She questioned softly as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"This road? No. Just leads to some guy's fields. It's a dead end." Drew whispered as he turned his face to kiss her wrist, his fingertips creeping up the back of her skirt to feel for her panties.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just kidnapped me so you could fuck me in your truck." She shivered as she felt his fingertips hook into the strap of her thong.

"It sounds bad when you say it like that." Drew teased as he hooked his fingers in the back of her thong, kept them there, and did nothing.

"So, what's it like?" She asked as she wiggled in his lap for more attention. His touch was too light on her backside under her skirt. He was gentle with her, but never feather-light. His touch always had some sense of urgency.

"More like, I took you somewhere pretty to get under your skirt before dinner." Drew grinned as his right hand moved from the strap of her thong and into her hair to pull her close.

"Make your move, Starkey." She challenged as she pulled her short nails down the front of his shirt, her thighs squeezing against his as she held her breath waiting for his kiss.

Drew leaned forward to close the small space between them, his lips pressed to hers. He released a sigh of relief through his nostrils at the feeling of finally kissing her that day. He wrapped his fingers around the long tresses of her hair and gave a small pull, his tongue slipping in her mouth when she whined.

Drew's girlfriend pushed the bottom of his shirt up over his abs, her fingertips pressed into the deep plains of his muscles. He smiled against her mouth as he felt her fingertip move down his abdomen towards the buckle of his belt.

"Let me help." Drew smiled through a heavy breath as he removed his hands from his girlfriend's body and reached between them to pull the prongs of his belt for her. The anticipation and sexual tension in the cab of the truck was almost tangible at that point. Drew wasn't sure who wanted it more.

"Thank you." She sighed with relief as she reached for the button of his jeans only to have her hands swatted away, her body being thrust backwards against the steering wheel which caused her backside to give a prolonged honk on contact.

"Goddamnit, Drew!" She gasped as she jumped forwards, her arms wrapped around his neck and her body flush against his once more.

"Well, sit your ass in my hands and that won't happen again." Drew growled as he reached beneath her skirt to grab hold of her backside in both his palms firmly. He gripped at the flesh of her ass and squeezed, smiling as she dropped her forehead down to his with a pout.

"Kiss me, Starkey." She begged as she adjusted her arms around his neck, her hands combing through his hair again.

"You kiss me first. Everyone knows when I start with you, then I get razzed all night long. You kiss me first, pretty girl." Drew demanded as his hands pulled at the flimsy strap of her thong and he realized with the right twist, he could snap it.

She released a whine from the back of her throat that made Drew feel primal, every carnal instinct in his body being lit like a match. He bared his teeth to her before he grabbed at the back of her neck and pulled her down for a kiss that would no doubt leave both of their mouths hot and swollen.

Drew's free hand pulled at the strap of her thong, doing his absolute best not to tear it into pieces. He tugged it down over the swell over her backside and to her knees, reluctantly removing his lips from hers to look between them to see what he was doing.

Drew adjusted himself in his seat and with an easy lift of the woman in his lap, he tugged her underwear the rest of the way down her legs. He reached up and hung the lace material over his rear view mirror for safe keeping.

A loud honk erupted from around them. Drew pulled his hands from under his girlfriend's skirt and glared at her.

"That wasn't me! I can barely move you're holding me so tight, Drew." She panted as she pulled her hands from his hair to move her own hair from her face.

Drew quickly averted his eyes from her lips, swollen from his kiss and looked into the rear view mirror. Behind his truck was a sedan that he knew all too well.

"There's someone behind us." Drew growled through gritted teeth.

"We were followed? Do you think it's the guy who owns those fields? Drew, farmer's have guns. Big guns." She rambled as she reached for his belt and quickly redid the buckle for him as she tried to look through the tint of his back window.

"It's no one with a gun, Sweetie." Drew soothed, his body relaxing when he realized his reaction to the vehicle behind him had frightened her.

He lifted her up and gently placed her back into the passenger seat of the truck, his fingers reaching up to pull her underwear off of his rear view mirror - which he handed to her with a soft smile.

"Be right back. Put these back on, hon." Drew smiled as he leaned over the console and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before he practically kicked open his door and hopped out of the truck.

Drew stepped on to the dirt road and closed the door harshly behind him, refusing himself a look back at his girlfriend as he pulled her underwear back on. He stood quick, purposeful strides over to the sedan that idled behind his truck and knocked on the window with a closed fist.

"Dude, I swear to god. We followed you because we thought something happened. We saw you take that super hard turn passed the restaurant and come this way." Rudy giggled as he rolled down the window, his lips sucked between his teeth as he stared up at his friend who was less than impressed.

"You can't text?" Drew asked while he shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowed at the blonde man who still giggled in the front seat.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Next time I'm certain your truck has been stolen, and you and your girlfriend are being held hostage - I won't come save you. Can we go for dinner now? I'm pretty sure the guy that owns those fields has a gun." Rudy replied as he caught his breath.

"You're a fuck." Drew muttered as he held back a smile. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the truck.

"The scenic route. Huh, Starkey?" Rudy yelled out the window of his car before he backed up and drove away, back towards the main road.

Drew shook his head as he opened up the driver's side of his truck and climbed in once more. He gave his girlfriend an apologetic look as he sat back down, fastening his seat belt once more.

"I'm sorry about that." Drew stated softly as he grabbed his keys from the cup holder and stuck them in the ignition again.

"That's okay, Starkey. You can take for a drive after dinner, if you like." She smiled as she sat up on her knees, leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Alright. Promise I won't take you near a farmer's field, or where Rudy can find us." Drew smiled as he placed a hand on her thigh once she settled back in her seat, and pulled the truck around and drove back towards the main road.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Thank you for your support. Requests for OBX are open!!

@littlementalpolaroids I'm sorry I didn't tag you sooner - if you haven't already seen this!!

[starshipsofstarlord]

Killer Inside

Pairing | Bucky Barnes / The Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary | As HYDRA’s weapon, Bucky Barnes has always felt used, but he was not the only Winter Soldier that felt this way. They look to one another for closure and comfort, only to lose it all once their brains go back in the blender.

Warnings | SMUT, unprotected sex, denied orgasm, angst, death, murder, a concussion, mention of abuse

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Soldat closed the door behind himself, the blood on his hands a normality for the pair of you. The scientist tilted your head once more, Bucky as you knew him frowning at the action.“What are you doing?” One thing that he had not been taught was to ask the handlers questions, but a part of him, deep down in his cold exterior was warm.

It was as thought the ice of his winter exterior was refrained by a crack; a singular flaw that set him apart from the newer soldiers that had been introduced within the gloomy base. There were a whole bunch of them, though, they seemed to prefer the originals, you and him. The majority of the time, neither one of you paid your dues to resist orders, or lash out at the surrounding agents.

At least, not in the same way as the newer breed. Though, they were much larger in mass, and had far more strength behind their pushes, which was evidential, considering the bruise that swallowed up the side of your face.

And the soldat cared, as little as he did, of was made to, he still valued you. The pair of you had experienced so much harm together, endured the needles that sled through the skin in a harmony, it had to have meant something. Whether that be because of your shared traumas, or the fact you were the same, it was not nothing. The image of the world’s most efficient assassins gave him something to hold onto.

It made him feel strong, even against the new batch of winter soldiers that had been introduced. They were out of control, disobeying the instructions that were imbedded in their heads. The two of you, though strong were so meek and small in comparison to the newcomers, they would toss you around like rag dolls, seeing you as nothing more than the enemy, when in reality, you were victims all the same.

“She’s got a concussion.” The scientist speculated, releasing his grip on you chin as you tried and failed to focus on the words that were fleeing from his mouth. It appeared that you were dazed, blown out of your body mentally from the nasty hit that you had taken whilst following your own orders. It involved protecting the scientists from the small and capable of army, and it was quite evident that you had endured a run in with them personally.

“Bucky.” You weren’t sure what the name meant, but it fell from your lips, a frown contorting your face as it was the only thing that made any sense, yet none at the same time. Or at least, you guessed that it was the labelling of a person, it felt like such as it vividly rolled from your tongue, and invaded the air.

There was a tenseness within the room after you spoke it, as though it were a forbidden hymn. And it probably was, from the dissolved way that you were eyes, as though you were revealing that you had gone through time, and time travelled, which you had, thanks to the concept of cryo.

The man examining you froze, and the soldat realised that you had struck some kind of nerve within your superior. It appeared that it was a word that you were forbade from uttering, one was both familiar and foriegn on your tongue.“Who the hell is Bucky?” He asked, but he had to learn, he was not in the placement, nor did he have the status to ask questions.

The person clothed in the white lab coat reached for a device that he used to communicate, and spoke into it. “They need to be wiped again.” At that, Bucky tilted his head, glaring at the man that had suggested that your memories been erased; the action had happened far too many times.

Yet this time, the winter soldier resisted the prospect, reaching out with his metal hand, and grasping onto the wired strands emitting from the doctor’s head. With the grip that he had obtained, the soldat pulled his neck back, only to push it forwards as he slammed his face into the corner of the desk, over and over again.

The sight had no immediate affect on you, instead you coldly viewed the uninstructed command that the soldier carried out, feeling nothing towards the blood that dropped upon the floor. Bucky knew that his time was limited, that name, which he assumed to be his own, and if those soldiers that were experiencing the whims of their ability could lose control, he sure as hell could too.

He needed to break free, so that he remembered who he truly was. Here, he was nothing more than a prime asset, and now, he released his grip on the man whose name he couldn’t remember, and allowed his body to drop from the chair lewdly to the concrete floor, a harsh thud clear as his lifeless body collapsed.

“Bucky?” You spoke again, this time in question, as you squinted at your well renowned comrade, and the way that you said it, Bucky was almost certain that the name belonged to him. For a long time, he had not even thought of what his real name may have been, all the executives of this organisation had names, and yet, he was stuck with the noun of ‘soldier’, as were you.

The metal armed knew that he was on the clock, the currently dead man had called in for an order to be carried out, the others would be here soon to carry out his firm request. And then, all would be blank once more, clean from any of this, the reminder of who he was gone in a split second. And that meant that you wouldn’t remember you either, and that the foundations of companionship that you had founded, would need to begin all over again.

As you remained confused, sitting upon the examination table with little clue that was going on around you, Bucky tenderly grasped your chin, watching as your eyes fluttered with contentment. He couldn’t keep up his resilience any longer, instead, pulling your face gently closer, and locking his lips wit yours.

It almost felt like a first kiss, it was messy, and there was a lot of overlapping. His hands raked down your sides, feeling the metal grid that kept your ribs upright, after the thing that lead you here happened. HYDRA had admittedly ruined the life you had once had, yet, now, against your non existent will, you were being treated like an abused dog. They had stolen you from the possible peaceful death and trained you to be nothing short of a killer.

Grasping onto the volume to the back of Bucky’s tactical gear, despite feeling slightly wavy in the head. You understood, the same as he did, that this would be the last piece of freedom that you would have the chance of seeing, under any context. This would also not be the first instance that you remembered giving into your carnal hunger for each other, but for some abrupt reason, it felt like the last.

It was an inevitable end, one that you were being sentenced to without so much as an argument from your side. There was no point in fighting back, for it always ended the same way, with your minds spun in that hellbent contraption, coming out as nothing more than an obedient slave, until the act had to be repeated. The cycle was never ending, there was no way out from the toxic lifestyle, it was what it was.

And thus, Bucky preached the bottoms off your legs, caring not about if he tore them, as he let them hang around the middle of your thighs. He stood closer between the section, doing some shuffling himself to relieve his hard cock from its strict confines, feeling a fluttering of pride swell in his chest as you looked down at his aroused appendage, and licked your lips.

The detail that there wasn’t enough room for foreplay within the gap of time that you were gifted was well apparent. You wanted nothing more than to come undone beneath the soldier in every single way that your body ceremoniously ached for, however, there just was not enough moments to spare, and instead, nothing more than penetration was offered on the table.

Wrapping his hand around his precum leaking cock, he stroked it a couple times whilst it was in his grip, before rubbing the desperate head around your exposed pussy. He could feel how wet you had become in such a short amount of minutes, and that factor seemed to do nothing more than fuel him further. And so, without a second though, he pushed into your entrance, giving you no time to adjust as his hips clashed with yours in colliding thrusts.

Animalistic and loud grunts escaped the soldier, for once, he was able to voice his pleasure, it wasn’t in the secrecy of the corner of the shower as he took you from behind, or in one of your bunks during the dead of night. He didn’t have to avoid being caught, because they were definitely on their way here anyways.

You didn’t hold back your noises either, gasping into Bucky’s open mouth as he rutted against you, causing a prominent squelching of your combined essences to fill the air. Not only was that prominent, but the room now reeked of sex, the hormones rolling off the starved pair of you in euphoric waves. His metal hand reached down, rolling your clit between his cold fingers, causing you to screech the name Bucky out into the air, loud enough for everyone within the compound to here.

“Cum y/n.” At that, the pair of you froze, staring into one another’s eyes as you took in the detail, prolonging the peak of your orgasm. It was undeniable, that was your name that he had just spoken in a breathy matrimony. The bar caused shock in both of you, but was quickly replaced as soldiers entered through the door.

Bucky couldn’t help himself, at their presence, he began to wildly thrust inside of you, trying to reach your edges before the pair of you were removed from each other’s lustful union. As one tried to peel him off you from the shoulder, he raised his hand to hit them from where he couldn’t see, and continued his administrations. He needed to empty inside of you, and complete this own personal mission of his.

You clung to him, trying to hide yet be stuck in his embrace, well aware of the men that were trying to separate the pair of you. The sounds of his skin upon yours, and his balls slapping against you reverberated around the room, only aiding you to come closer to your orgasm. “Bucky.” You moaned, almost reaching your climax, yet it was stolen from you, as a needle was injected in the back of Bucky’s neck, causing him to wobble for a moment, until he fell out of you, his dick flopping in the open from his forced exit.

You cowered at the sight, your walls clenching around nothing as you felt the emptiness. Though, there was not only an emptiness inside you, but there was one gleaming behind your eyes as you watched them hold the super soldier up, and drag him out of the room, not even having the decency to tuck him back inside of his trousers.

It was well assumed that you would be granted a similar treatment, and so, you did not fight as the dismissing injection was moved towards your pricked skin, welcoming the darkness that would accompany the side affects, but not the name that you would lose once they put you in that grand metal chair, and erased the slate of your mind for the unknown anniversary number.

[jadepetals]

so this is part 5 of the fics that i’ve read and have stayed with me for a looong time, hope they make you feel the same way.

Happy Valentine's Day, You Cockroach / 2048 words

Harry Styles, new director of the Milltown Zoo, has a great idea for a Valentine's Day themed fundraiser. For a donation, they'll name cockroaches after people's exes and then feed them to the meerkats on a live stream. He just didn't foresee how many cockroaches would end up with his name...

tall stories on the page / 5705 words

harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip.

louis is a nice change of pace.

Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs / 17523 words

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

the dead things we carry / 25316 words

He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.

This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.

This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

Runaway Darling / 26725 words

Louis hates weddings, Harry loves them, and together they help bride skip hers.

This World’s Ashes / 34633 words

Harry, battling his past as he survives in the woods, has learnt not to trust anyone except his dog. Then Louis crashes into his life, with his bright spirit and soft lips, pulling Harry from the depths of a loneliness he hadn’t realised he was drowning in. But there is danger lurking, and Harry’s not the only one wrestling with his past.

The Things I'd Do To Wake Up Next To You / 36109 words

Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

Tell Me How To Feel About You Now / 38220 words

Harry has been trying to convince Louis to date him for years, but Louis has always been wary of Harry’s fairly obvious commitment issues. Louis eventually gives him a chance, opening his heart up to the one thing he fears.

Spoonful of Sugar / 42900 words

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

tastes like summer, smiles like may / 47519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

social cues / 55860 words

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

try to not remember (rather than forget) / 60979 words

*this is the spanish version since the author deleted their account*

Liberté / 64603 words

Pretending you don’t have a heart is not the best way to not get it broken. It’s just the easiest.

where they glow / 70511 words

Tangled AU where Louis dreams, Harry runs, and the sun prince has been missing for almost nineteen years.

shelter as we go / 75094 words

Louis looks at him like his words might break him, glass about to splinter, one wrong footfall away from shattering into a million tiny pieces.

“Hey,” Harry breathes, and he knows, meeting Louis’ eyes, that his words could break him easy as anything. He almost wants Louis to bring his boot down.

somewhere in between lightning / 99647 words

A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?

Imagine his surprise when Louis arrives in sunny Majorca to find that his first love and ex-boyfriend, Harry, is another contestant, about to capture the hearts of everyone in the villa. Most normal people don’t have to face their ex on an otherwise straight TV show. Most normal people don’t fall for their ex again in front of the whole nation, either. Too bad this whole situation isn’t normal.

A Taste of Desire / 104414 words

Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.

Mine Would Be You / 114697 words

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

Queen of Arizella / 277919 words

Stealing from Royalty is punishable by death.

Louis starts over, doing his best to keep his hands at his sides

but he is hungry and he tries stealing from the wrong Royal.

Harry is King of Arizella, he needs a Queen and who better than an omega on the run from death?

Louis will learn to become the perfect Queen -the perfect fake Queen, but only for a few months.

A fake lover, a fake Queen, but a real bond.

all we can do is keep breathing / 310000 words

A fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together. 

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

[deeranger]

Fic Writer Questions!

@oddsocksandstuff tagged me in this, thank you so much, sweetie!  ❤️

 1) How many works do you have on AO3? I’ve got 40 so far (of which 25 are SPN fics). There’s more to come! 

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 486,667, apparently. That tells me each of my fics has an average wordcount of 12,166.675… Seems about right. I was never any good at keeping things short.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Uhh… On AO3 I’ve written for Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, X-men (Cherik) and McFassy (James McAvoy/Michael Fassbender). But I’ve written a lot when I was younger that has never made it online, including NCIS, Pirates of the Caribbean, and lots of weird one-shorts starring everyone from Michael J. Fox to Kevin Sorbo from “Hercules: The Legendary Journeys”. 🤨  

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos? “A Lesson to be Taught” – an SPN Wincest pwp fic where a dominant Dean fucks (and spanks) Sam and they discover that Dean apparently has a daddy!kink. Comes with a photo manipulation too! There be dick.    

“Taking Game” – a semi-dark medieval Cherik (Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr from X-men) AU. Basically, Charles is a poacher hunting on king Erik’s land to his great dismay. And so, he’s captured and gets the choice between losing his life or serving the king for a bit… Dubcon and smut ensues.   “Only Like This” – a little SPN Wincest dub-con fic about hopelessly pining Dean doping Sam just so he can touch and kiss his oblivious little brother. It’s okay. Sam won’t remember when he comes to.   “It’s Only Carnal” – A dark SPN Wincest noncon fic where soulless!Sam needs to blow off some steam. And when it comes to carnal activities his brother isn’t exactly a novice – so why not use Dean’s body to make them both feel good?   “Demonized” – a long and dark af SPN noncon fic written in collaboration with the awesome @palishere. Sam is captured by some nasty demons who use him to lure in his brother. At first it seems the demonic scumbags are just really perverted and have a weakness for sexual torture, but they turn out to have ulterior motives…  

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes, always. I think it can be a bit demotivating for a reader to leave a comment and get zero response – and so, they might not bother to comment on the next fic. At least, that’s how I feel personally. And besides, I really want to let readers know that I appreciate them taking the time and effort to actually tell me what they think.  

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Oufff… Seriously? How can I possibly pick just one when 99.8 percent of my fics are not only dark af but have gut-wrenching ambiguous endings as well? I, err… I’m gonna have to think really hard about this one, hold on… *Insert buzzing cicada sound*… Uhh… Well, I guess it might be… “Play or Pay” – a dark female!reader-insert Wincest fic where demon!Dean has you and Sam trapped somewhere underground. Sam ends up being on the receiving end of the demon’s cruelty when he tries to save you. Using Dean’s body the demon ends up raping Sam while the reader tries to escape to get help... There’s a little twist in the end. Loads of dead dove here, including death (not Dean or Sam).     “The Orange Hour” – where undercover inmate!Dean has to rape CO!Sam in order to save both of their lives and get them out of the jail in one piece. It doesn’t go completely as planned. (Comes with an nsfw photo manipulation).  “Demonized” – loads of bottom!Sam torture, full of hurt and absolutely no comfort... It’s just… I dunno, I think I and @palishere had a collective meltdown in the noncon and angst department. Sorrynotsorry.      

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, I’ve never in my life written a crossover. Usually, I’m too laser-focused on 1 obsession at a time. I can’t multitask, okay?   

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, the fandom purity police has visited me on AO3. The usual self-proclaimed know-it-alls vomiting their bullshit all over the comment section about how “problematic” noncon is and how “sick” I must be. I thought about moderating comments for a while, actually – but I just deleted their follow-up comments until they left me alone. 😤

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yes!! Gimme! Usually, I write noncon smut or just good ol’ pwps that feature some sort of dominance. That’s it. That’s my jam. In general, the only smut I don’t write is the cute, fluffy, feel-good, cuddly stuff… My smut’s usually pretty rough and/or some sort of dub/noncon.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. Someone stole “It’s Only Carnal” and posted it as her own on some Portuguese fanfiction site. She even replied to comments, answered questions and talked about how much she loved writing it, etc… Luckily a sweet mutual on Tumblr let me know about it and I reported her for plagiarism. The stolen fic was taken down shortly after and the account deleted. Goddamn thief. 😡  

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. Honestly, I can’t remember which fic(s). But people have contacted me on AO3 and asked for permission to translate my stuff into Chinese. I have - of course - happily allowed them to. It’s such an awesome compliment to get, I think!  

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, 2. “Demonized” and the fluffy Ficfacers prompt fic “The Masks We Wear” starring Sam and Dean taking their pranks a step too far. Basically, the brothers get angry with each other and they need to talk it out… No smut in this one, can you believe it?!! But that was kinda the prompt we received. The prompt was literally: “Sam and fluff”. Anyways, both fics are co-written with the lovely @palishere. You can find her AO3 here. 😊

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? Wincest!!! Definitely. Gimme all the brotherfucking, please. No contest. And coming in on second place I guess there’s Samifer – never paired consensually, though. I just love Lucifer messing with Sam’s head and torturing him in all kinds of cruel ways.    

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Oh, that’s a mean question… I have a noncon WIP where Sam and Dean are in prison. I wrote a whole story outline, gathered my own little dictionary of prison slang, etc… But I never made it past page 10 or something. Sam was supposed to get jumped by a gang of inmates and then Dean was supposed to helplessly watch from the sideline, offering to trade places if they’d just leave his little brother alone… And after that it’s all about a mix of healing and vengeance… But the story has been lying on the shelf for more than a year and I doubt I’ll ever continue it. Oh, wait! I almost forgot – I have a long Cherik WIP sequel to “To Have and to Hold”! Just checked, its wordcount is 18,729! Holy crap…. What a waste, huh? But I honestly don’t think I’ll ever finish it, because I’m not into Cherik anymore. That ship has kinda sunk for me…. So, now I’m hyperfixating on Supernatural, yeah?     

16) What are your writing strengths? Description, I think. I just love details and setting the mood. I like to think I’m pretty good at writing in English too even though it isn’t my native language… I wish to be better and expand my vocabulary but I’m doing okay nonetheless.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? Description, I think. Yes, you read correctly. I often describe things TOO much. Sometimes to the extent where the pacing gets so slowed down that I feel like the scene loses its ‘feel’. I don’t know if it’s just in my head, but that’s my major concern about my writing. That and my signature ambiguous endings, lol.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Love it. It can be difficult to pull off, but if you get it right it can be magical. Just don’t overdo it and make sure that the reader can follow. I don’t think I have any fics online where I do it, but I’m not a complete stranger to it either.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for? Ack, my poor brain trying to go back to when I was friggin’ 13… You know how many years ago that was?! 25!!! Okay!? *Huffs*…. Anyway, I THINK it might’ve been Keanu Reeves’ character in “Johnny Mnemonic”. Or maybe David James Elliott’s character as Harmon Rabb in the early seasons of “JAG”. I dunno. Either way this question makes me feel really old and I don’t appreciate it. Don’t @ me. 😅   

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? That’s probably a tie between “The Orange Hour” and “It’s Only Carnal”. They’ve both got nice pacing and that’s my biggest challenge, I think. Also, I love the whole Morse code thing in “The Orange Hour”. I don’t even know what happened or how I came up with it, but hey, I can surprise myself if I want to, I guess! And of course there’s the smutty noncon and all of the hurt… So, those two fics are my personal faves. 😏  

I’ll tag @jackandthesoulmates, @pinkoptics, @palishere, @wrenseroticlibrary, @decadent-prince, @negans-lucille-tblr, @juinae and @impala-dreamer and everyone else who feels like doing it! Feel free to ignore, of course. 

[obeymeaskme]

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: Remember to check my pinned post if you missed the other chapters! Another note; I had WAY too much fun writing the beginning of this! Hopefully it makes sense~

Chapter Three: Bonding's Mended (3/3)

Word Count: 1683

Rating: 18+

'Demon Feeding: A Start to the endless hunger of a demon's belly.

The cause of our behaviors dives deep into our past, when our kind and the celestial realm had known nothing but primal instincts. Humanity had not yet existed, and the earth realm was our battlegrounds. Flesh was torn by both Devil, Beast, and angel. Only our great Mages, now pacified by ash, can whisper to the book keepers of our carnal days. Yet while the Angelic build their realm, we still hunger, and wish to devour. Our hatred is barely ever quenched. Humans had been involved through their own ways. Growing and evolving long after our realms had taken refuge away from earth. But our history was rediscovered, and the three realms were connected.

Demon's had soon developed a taste for human souls. An almost sweet and pungent ecstasy only found in the spirit's layers. Yet the Angels seem to desire the human's souls for more pure and selfless purposes. So they say. We as a selfish kin must find ways around this. And we have. Humans are so very frail, but one cannot take from a living soul without their unwavering trust or agreement. But that's only for the whole meal. Ah yes- Just a small taste, barely a lick can satisfy. It was the Incubi, and the Succubi who have found the most pleasure in a Demon Feeding ritual. For many, a human's sensual pleasures are tied to their trust, and emotions. The Cubi have found their abilities to please have come in handy. They can easily sample the human soul, feeding of the human's energies, all while... entertaining themselves. The rest of us have begun to see the strings that connect Demons to humans as well. Even the Little Devils have their own ways. Most of us don't need a physical contract, or to eat away at their little dream worlds. No, just the sheer aura of a human's daily stress and anger are so divine, so tempting. No wonder the human world has grown fearful of us. They now know we can touch something they used to think they fully owned.'

A chill ran through Noelle's body. Not wanting to read more as she understood the narrator's point. The second sticky note was unlabeled, but since there were two options, this was probably the most plausible.

'Underdeveloped Magic and it's consequences.

Blood, bones and sacrifices were never needed to summon us to the human realm. Though the show and the fallen harvest are much appreciated. Though we now have an issue. Malaia has expressed a growing development in the human genes. Magic. It seems that now the human realm has entered into existence, they have developed their own magic. Most have realized what they're capable of, and are learning to manipulate it. They found ways to protect their realm from our hunger and manipulations. It's knowledge that is beginning to gnaw at my mind. Chewing it thoroughly. Yet it's not the well trained ones of magic that are the problem. It is the untrained ones we must look out for. Some of them have these hideous side effects they accidentally cause. Hell's fire wasn't enough to melt the flesh of a demon, but those flame's are so old. The new ones created by human magic are so fresh it can and will burn us to the bone, and perhaps past that if one is not careful. The other effects are as follows, but are just general nature.

Wart Tongue

Seared eyesight

confusion/forgetfulness

solidifying blood

barriers-'

The rest of the chapter went unread past Barriers. Noelle had gone through the index of the book and quickly read up on the different types of barriers until she came across one that explained her situation. It was a sort of magnetic barrier that if unchecked by a human with trained magic abilities, can cause harm to both demon and human.

The rest of the afternoon she spent her time locked in the library reading about magic, and trying to find a way to break her unintentional curse. According to her research the longer a demon is close to her, the more they will think unkindly of her, and will either tear her apart while their own body suffers the same, or manipulate her into handing over her soul. She also learned as to why this didn't seem to affect the brothers the same way. The types of demons are defined by their sins, with the Demon king and his associates being the exception. Thus different sins respond to her 'barrier' in different ways. Lust, and Greed are highly tuned to sense the danger of magic. Sloth, and Pride are most susceptible to giving into their instinct, and Wrath is unaffected due to their own constant rage with themselves. And Gluttony varied Demon to Demon. However, what concerned her was those who were spawned by Envy. Though it wasn't a reason that caused the disruption between Noelle and Levi, it was still concerning. In fact if Levi hadn't chosen to distance himself they'd both be very much dead.

Noelle had sighed heavily and texted Satan about the subject. And a quick reply came back. Satan seemed giddy and impressed with her progress on the matter. He then sent messages an hour later during his break about ways they can break the spell. But first she needed to test the strength of her barrier. He suggested that the only way they could do that was to snag Asmo, for when it came to surpassing a human's free will, he was a professional of sorts. Noelle swallowed hard at the suggestion, but once Satan had calmed her down over the phone, she agreed to meet him at Asmodeus' room.

The vibrant pinks and flowers decorating Asmodeus’ bedroom made her head spin. Yet it all looked inviting. There was even a cocoon chair that hung from the ceiling. Satan, Asmo and Mammon, for some ungodly reason, were already sitting on the fancy colorful rug. Asmo jumped up and ran to hug her out of habit with literally everyone else, but stopped short and gave a shudder along with a quick complaint.

“Owaahh~ You were right Satan, it's so hard being next to her! Which is really, REALLY inconvenient.”

Noelle blushed hard as Asmo withered in what she assumed was his growing lust over his forced restraint. That did not stop her from letting a remark slip from her lips.

“Oh hush- I thought you'd be into restraints.”

Asmo gasped while Satan and Mammon tried to cover up their laughter. After about 15 minutes passed, allowing Asmo and Mammon to get over their urges to run off, they sat Noelle right in front of Asmo on his bed. The barrier shielding Noelle had to be only so thick, and Asmo had the ability to get through shields and barriers with his lustrous charm. This was making Noelle exceedingly nervous that he'd take advantage of her in some way, but that's why Mammon and Satan were there. Mammon himself had actually been talked into taking Noelle's hand and ready to run out the door with her if anything went wrong, or if Asmo tried anything. Satan was there to make sure the other two didn't do anything too stupid.

Asmodeus was becoming giddy in getting to melt away at her guard, and possibly her heart as he says, and began reciting his usual spell while looking into her eyes.

“The eye's of a young, and beautiful mortal woman. They are so deep and golden. Even under those dark brown feathery irises...”

Mammon's snorting almost broke concentration of the two's moment, but was quickly corrected by a swift smack to the back of the head, as Asmo huffed and continued.

“Tell me Noelle~ Let me look into those pretty little eyes. Please, learn to place your trust in me. Tell me your desires.”

The soft whispers of Asmo's request had flooded her senses with a heated calm. No one else but Asmo could see the hidden and still seas of her mind as it became blank. All but a few trails of thought were left behind. He could sense her clarity, and saw her unrivaled trust in him. It was warm, and soft. Like a small candle by bedside. Asmo smiled softly, and brushed some hair behind her ear, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed but she could still hear him, even then, deep in her mind as it went fully numb and the focus of her desires came to light.

“Tell me your desires”

The words vibrated behind her eyes and a single soft word came from her lips.

“Leviathan.”

“...”

“...”

“... uh-”

All too quickly Noelle had jumped in her skin as she regained her senses, and a deep violet red painted her face. When she did come back around and her vision stopped spinning from the sudden jolt, she saw the three brothers in hysterics, laughing on the floor and bed. Satan had put his hand on the wall beside him to balance himself, and covered his face. He was doing all he could to restrain his laughter. Mammon and Asmodeus had zero shame as they bellowed out, both of them grabbed at their guts, and caused Noelle's embarrassment to burn on her ears.

“Sh-SHUT UP! IT'S NOT FUNNY! WHAT DID I SAY!”

Satan was the first to calm down, clearing his throat more than once, trying to speak clearly.

“Did you not hear yourself? A-Asmo- What did you do! Tchh-”

Asmo shook his head, and had to cling onto Noelle to stay balanced on the bed.

“F-for a second I thought you said your deepest desire was- pffft Levi!”

Noelle silently stood up, covering her face and left the room while Satan yelled after her about knowing how to break the spell. But that was going to wait until she was able to recover from her current, flustered state.

[horrorslashergirl]

I have a request, since they're open! Anything with the Collector x Reader x Chromeskull. I love that pair! Surprise me with what happens. Preferably angst.

The Collector x Reader x Chromeskull- Hazardous Toxicity

Authors Note: Getting some practice with angsty scenarios and these two see to fit the picture, because what’s not toxic about being in a relationship with a serial killer, neverthless with two of them.

Warning: Toxic Polyamorous Relationship

Words: 2.2k

You had a peculiar taste in men and that went with the fact that you didn't like routine or having a normal relationship with a normal guy with a normal job and a normal hobby. Normal wasn't an adjective or characteristic you were attracted to.

If you could describe what your preference in men was, you would start by saying that you always liked them older, maybe because you had enough of going on dates with guys your age that talked about the same topics; college, sports, nothing that would really spark a certain interest, but alas you were glad at the end of the date they preferred to remain just friends. Easier to get out and not make an awkward scene and probably explain why there was no chemistry.

The past relationships you had were to put it nicely, acceptable. The guys always let you take the lead; you ordered the food, you decided what movie to watch, what to do on a certain date. To be always in charge was tiring and you felt kind of empty. There was no excitement what so ever.

So, imagine the actual relationship you were having now. Never in your life would you predict that you would end up in a polyamorous relationship with two men that were much older than you. It was just a fantasy, one that turned out to be real.

To say that your partners were quite unique would be just an easy saying; they always stood out of the crowd, maybe one of the reasons you were so intrigued by them, but they were that type of standing out like 'He's so handsome and fuckable type'. Well, in your opinion, yes, but in your friends and people that knew you, they were downright intimidating. Possible another plus in your attractiveness book.

They had that certain vibe that if they wanted to crush someone's skull, they would do it, not that you minded because, in a certain twisted way, you felt protected because Lord helps the poor soul that would have the guts to hurt you.

At the beginning of the relationship, everyone said that you should be careful, be vigilant because you don't know them well; they were mysterious to say so, never putting all the cards down for you to see, making your stay on your toes and your mind always to wander to their personas. That was what made you be drawn to them, they excited your mind and the intimacy?

You never knew how much pleasure exists, nevertheless with two men like them. They always made you crave more, your legs turning to jelly and mind a mess, all morals flying out the window and letting your carnal instincts take over.

Everything was perfect because you felt cherished, they always treated you with all kinds of surprises, and sometimes it felt like they were competing for your affection and attention; the perks of having two alpha males.

They also had their differences, despite how similar Jesse and Asa were. Jesse was an extrovert, while Asa was an introvert. Despite Jesse being mute he always found himself teasing you, be it at first using the electronic reader and later on suggestive signing after you got better with ASL. Asa could speak very loud and clear but chose not to, only if he had something to say, which always was accompanied by an authoritative tone, more or less.

Both are very highly intellectual and that showed; Asa being a successful entomologist at the university and the many degrees and diplomas on the wall of his office spoke for him, not to mention how much he knew about history and art. Jesse was nothing less either, with running a successful chroming company, being a highly respected and feared CEO and it always amazed you how much he knew about information technology.

So basically your type was experienced, tall, intimidating, and smart.

After being for some time in the relationship, your known one always said that they were controlling you, which at first made you confused about this statement, wondering from where they deducted that.

Maybe you were a little blind, not able to see how they chose for you what to wear, what to eat, how you should do your hair. You saw them as a suggestion, but the ones outside begged to differ.

There also came a hard time when you were having trouble at your job, the economy was going down, your boss had to cut salaries and you couldn't afford to pay rent, not to mention that you needed to over-work; extra hours staying at work meant less time spending with your lovers.

They suggest that you should move in with them, switching from Asa's house to Jesse's depending on when they weren't working, plus they made you give up on your job, explaining how the money wasn't even covering how much you worked.

You agreed; maybe the lack of sleep, too much frustration, and injustice conducted you to agree with their proposition.

They took care of all your needs, be them material, spiritual or physical; they delivered it. You couldn't argue on that, but slowly, without you realizing it, they made you be dependent on them, seeking them whenever you felt like, but you were always the submissive, they owned the power and you only basked it what they emanated.

The apex of this relationship came when darker secrets came out because your curiosity got the better of you, not going to work that left you a lot of time to think and brown-noose into their stuff and business; the biggest mistake of your life, much worse than entering this hazardous relationship.

The first time your eyes looked over a photo-album of Asa's, you expected to see family photos, since he never brought this subject, you were interested in it, but seeing all the gruesome photos, you never thought a human could be shaped like this? This had to be some sick joke, right? But it wasn't.

You haven't told Asa about it or tried to question him, making sure you put the album exactly where it was. You debated if you should tell Jesse since Asa had to do some entomology related work for the weekend and you stayed by Jesse's house, but he had to go to work too, something about an unannounced meeting, leaving you to spend time all alone into his enormous house, so again curiosity got the best of you.

If you thought that Asa's photo album was gruesome, then the tapes you found in Jesse's Chrysler inside the glove box and trunk were sure going to give you nightmares.

You were pacing in Jesse's living room, drinking some whiskey to calm your nerves because you were sure that a breakdown was going to come, then it hit you. All the missing people, the murders on the news; you played detective and pin-pointed everything.

It all came down to you, the harsh reality; all the false sense of safeness and affection, it was pure-down manipulation, the undercover controlling that you were too blind to see because you were like a love-struck puppy to them.

The solution was simple; break up this relationship.

That's what you did, you wrote down a quick note, not explaining why you were leaving them, you just wanted to getaway. You left Jesse's place and walked for half an hour. Where? You didn't know, you had nowhere to go because all your friends left you; some that decided you were a lost cause, others too afraid of your men.

You had so much money just to stay at a cheap hostel for some days, but it was better than sleeping in a bus station on a dirty bench. Maybe you will go back to your parents? You didn't have a plan in mind.

The first night you couldn't sleep, not only because the bed was very much uncomfortable and the people in the room next to you were making too much noise, but because you felt like they were always watching; you were getting paranoid.

The next day, you managed to get some sleep in the morning, sleeping until it was the afternoon, the growl of your stomach waking you up. You walked to a cheap restaurant across the hostel, and as you took the first bite of the scrambled eggs and a little too burnt sausages, you grimaced.

Too accustomed to five-star meals and champagne, doll?

Alas, you swallowed down, reminding yourself that luxury wasn't an option in your current predicament. You sipped on the bitter coffee, the taste as truthful as the relationship which you ended, the dark liquid waking you up, and everything pouring down on you; it was only a game. The affection was only a camouflage for the twisted intentions, the protectiveness only possession.

After sitting there for hours and the waitress telling you that if you wouldn't order anything else you should leave, you walked back towards the hostel, walking upstairs to your room, entering and closing the door behind you, you were ready to hit the bed again, only to stop dead in your tracks when your gaze meets long black-clad legs, eyes moving up over the black clothes and wide chest and stopping on a bone-chilling chromed skull mask.

The bald head and tall frame of the mad was a dead giveaway to who he was, and when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, you knew who the second person was behind you, but your mind didn't want to acknowledge the scenario.

"Going somewhere?" the calm and familiar voice asked behind you, feeling Asa stop behind you, just a few inches away from his chest to press against your back.

'Piggy has been naughty.' Jesse signed, making your gut twist at the nickname he gave you.

"I-I...." you didn't know what to say, afraid of saying anything when your eyes saw Jesse twirl a large knife, clearly amused by your face that showed fear.

"You what? Trying to break things off without a specific motive?" Asa asked into your ear, gloved hands grasping your hips into a bruising grip, fingers digging into your skin behind your shirt.

Of course, they found out you were sneaking where your nose shouldn't be. Asa knew where everything he owned was, so it was no surprise when he found the photo album a little out of place, and Jesse? You cursed yourself for forgetting that he had security cameras all over his place.

Jesse moved off the couch and stalked towards you, looking down at your form and at this moment you really hated how tall and imposing of a figure he had. You were turned around and pressed to his chest, your eyes ready to meet Asa's face, only to be masked by a black-foam mask, making him look so very menacing, like a very dangerous spider.

You felt Jesse trail the tip of his knife up and down your thigh, his masked face pressing against the top of your head.

"You know what I am most curious about?" Asa asked, pulling out a knife of his own and trailing the blunt edge over your neck, the cold blade making your breath hitch.

"Any person in your situation would have called us in." he answered for you.

That's when it hit you, your eyes widening. Any person in their right mind would have gone directly to the police, telling them everything, you had enough proof to put them behind bars for the rest of their lives, but you hid out like a rabbit, ready for the wolves to find you.

"Aren't you such a loyal pet?" Asa murmured in your ear, the knife nicking your collarbone a little, feeling his hot breath and rough texture of his mask hit your skin.

'Someone has a little crush.' the electronic voice from Jesse's phone spoke, making you more aware of what was happening.

"P-Please....I won't tell anyone." you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt Jesse move his knife up and down on your inner thigh.

"I'm sure you won't. It would be a shame to kneecap you, queen bee." Asa said, sadistic promises behind the cruel words.

You whimpered at the nickname, one it used to make you smile brightly and nuzzle into his chest, feeling so loved and appreciated, but now it made you sick to the stomach.

'Very big shame to destroy such a cute face.' Jesse added, pulling his knife away only for his nitrile covered hand to come up and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin.

"Are you going to come home with us or do we have to train you through?" Asa asked, question rhetorical and by Gods, you didn't want to find out what it means 'training' in his mind.

Swallowing down, you nodded, doe-like eyes on his obsidian ones, his plush lips pulled into a winning lop-sided smile, then his lips pressed against your forehead, making you tremble a little.

Asa pulled away from you, walking towards the door, opening it. You were pushed forward by Jesse, who wrapped one long arm around your shoulder, making sure you wouldn't try to run away, not like you would get too far away.

As you passed the small reception you saw the owner of the hostel dead, into a pool of blood with his guts out.

This was a warning that this was not a childish game.

The meaning was simple; Try breaking things off with them and they will break your legs.

[awesometheydontknowiamhere]

Breaking and Entering

Tony Stark X Reader Fanfiction

Summary: Reader has recently started dating Tony. With a new relationship comes the initial apprehension and nervousness. This fic explores the Reader’s (almost) first time with Tony and him being extremely considerate of her boundaries. Lots of fluff and smut.

A/N: My first MCU fic! Let me know if I should do more of these.

Warning: Make-outs, kissing, no sex though. 

Words: 1917 (I guess my longest fic so far)

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr​

“Hey, it’s me. Just got off from work. I am heading home, let me know if you want me to stop by.”

You sent Tony the voice message and descended the stairs to the subway.

Life was grueling, but finally it was getting good for you. You had a job at The New York times (you were practically an assistant’s assistant, but everyone starts at the bottom), you had recently moved into your first adult apartment and you had a boyfriend who was God sent.

Agreed, he was Tony Stark, but that had nothing to do with the fact that you were slowly but surely falling head over heels for him. It wasn’t about what he had or who he was, it was all about how he made you feel.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and set down your keys and bag and plopped down on your couch, a kitschy thrift store find. Your entire apartment was boho and rustic, quite resembling a Tumblr page. You often liked to think that you were the warm and quirky to Tony’s sleek and mechanical.

You realized that Tony had never been your house and you tried not to let it bother you because you were aware of his insane schedule.

You stripped down to your underwear and pulled your cashmere blanket around yourself. You reached under your couch and pull out the book you had been reading currently, eager to get lost in and leave behind the exhaustion of the day.

You woke up startled, the sound of metal scratching wood clear in the dead silence of the night. You were on high alert and the waited to see if the sound would repeat, but you couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your heart.

The front door opened and you held the book out in front of you, obviously thought that might help.

A black-haired head poked in and you promptly chucked the book at it.

“Tony! What the hell is wrong with you? Ever heard of knocking or ringing the bell?”

He chuckled and picked up the book and closed the door behind him.

“Sorry, I just wanted to see you and well it’s really late and I thought maybe you were asleep, but I wanted to come see you because I haven’t seen you in nearly a week. I thought any noise might wake you up, so I decided to try the lock.”

He walked up to you and noticed your bare shoulder and the blanket wrapped around your body and froze.

“Did I interrupt something?” he said with a laugh and you felt blood warming your face.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, I fell asleep reading and didn’t have time to put on clothes for your B&E stunt.”

“The gutter is a wonderful place for the mind, Y/N. We should take a trip down there sometime.”

“How did you even get in here?” you asked incredulously.

“Well a little bit of charm and a bit magic from these,” he said while doing jazz hands.

“Of course, you know how to pick a lock. Why am I even surprised?” you said as you motioned for him to sit on the chair.

He plopped down on the couch beside you instead.

“How was your day sweetheart?” Tony asked, slipping his hand in yours and kissing it while you answered.

“It wasn’t bad, what about you? You said and snuggled up to him.

“The usual, blew up a bunch of stuff in the lab, bickered with Banner, and got new toys for the R&D. Same old.”

You laughed and smacked his chest affectionately.

“You trouble Banner way too much.”

“Is that so?” Tony said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder as both of you sit together in comfortable silence. He started drawing lazy circles on your bare shoulder. You sighed at his touch and mentally willed him to continue that.

The truth was that as much as you were both enjoying each other’s company, you were yet to move ahead in the bedroom department.

The extent of your physical activities went up to just heated kissing and the occasional stolen make out sessions when you hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

It bothered you tremendously that you were this nervous. You were aware of his reputation and the long list ex-flames, each more breathtaking than the last. In fact, the closest he had seen you this intimately was today.

“Hey,” you said as you looked into his eyes, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said as he tucked a stray lock behind your ear.

You looked at his lips and then into his eyes and placed a quick peck on his lips.

His hand cupped your cheek and he looked at your lips with burning intent. You nod and his lips touched yours. The pressure of his lips, sweet at first, grew maddening and you gave his tongue the permission it sought. With each passing second you grew more frantic, hungry for him, kissing him like you had never kissed before in your life. He slipped his hands around your waist and you ran your hand over his biceps, while the other still clutched the blanket around your bare chest. He pulled you into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs.

You placed your hand on his chest and went back to kissing him. You pulled away from the kiss and took Tony’s bottom lip between your teeth, applying enough pressure to elicit a groan from him. You loved the rush of power, the feeling that came from drawing out moans from him.

Just as you lifted your hand, the one securing the blanket, you grabbed it back, realizing that it was slipping away. Tony ran his hand up your back and bunched it in his hand, tight and secure.

“Go on, baby, I got you,” he whispered.

You didn’t have to be told twice. With a hand now free, you were determined to put it to good use. You ran your fingers through his hair, trailing your nails on his scalp while your lips moved in unison. You looked at him and smiled, deeply touched by him still securing your modesty, allowing you to explore this on your own terms.

You pulled his head back, exposing his throat and you peppered his neck with short, wet kisses. You stopped at certain places and grazed with your teeth, careful not to mark him. You followed each bite with a salve of your tongue, a heady combination of pain and pleasure.

Tony’s free hand found your chin and pulled you back to his lips, devouring them in carnal hunger, his hands lost in your hair, keeping you anchored to him.

You both came up for air and he took the opportunity to go to your neck. He placed a kiss at the hollow of your throat, the contrast of his soft kisses and his sharp beard making you mewl.

“Tony,” you rasped out as he started a sensory assault, going from your collar bones to the back of your ears.

“Tony, please,” you squirmed on his lap, the play of his teeth and tongue getting too overwhelming.

You gripped his hair, trying to push away a shudder, and looked straight into his eyes, making sure that he could see the flame of desire clear in your eyes.

“Anthony Edward Stark, let go of the blanket,” you said with a smirk and he loosened his grip on the blanket. The fabric slipped down your body, but his eyes never strayed from your eyes.

“Y/N, “he said stroking your cheek, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know, “you said and took matters into your own hands, flinging the blanket across the room, your body bare and glowing from the soft, yellow lights placed around the room, bare all but a pair of French cut panties.

Tony cursed under his breath and flipped you on the couch, covering your body with his. He kissed his way up from your belly, going over your sternum and stopped just above your nipples. His fingers stroked and played with your breasts, touching everything, but your sensitive peaks. He looked at your face, your trembling, waiting body and swooped down to take one aching bud into his mouth.

You let out a broken gasp, touched this way after long, touched by the man you craved the most in the world. You placed your hands on his shoulder, pulling him closer. Your arched your back every time his skilled tongue pulled a move.

Tony came up for air and you brought his face above yours.

“My turn,” you whispered and pushed him to the side.

He started speaking, but you silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“My turn to play, Stark,” you said as you straddled him, pinning him in place.

Leaning forward, you captured his lips in yours, teasing him with your tongue. Your hands caressed his shoulder, marveling over his strength and the contrasting soft heart within him.

You sat back up and ran your hands through your hair, coyly meeting his gaze.

The room was silent except the sounds of your combined breathing. Tony ran his hands over your naked thighs, his calloused palms making you wish he was touching you somewhere else entirely. You grabbed the soft material of his worn out t-shirt.

The charged silence of the room was pierced by a seemingly deafening noise coming from your severely famished stomach. A rolling wave of embarrassment drowned you and you scrammed off his lap and on to the nearest chair, covering yourself up with another aesthetically placed blanket.

Your work had been so hectic and your boss had you running all over the city with various errands. Eating had not been a priority.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I just did that,” you exclaimed, the logic completely escaping you that grumbling stomachs are hardly audible. All you could think about was that the first time you decided to take a step ahead with Tony your stomach demonstrated the dying call of a blue whale.

He walked up to you and knelt in front of you and placed his hands on the arm rest.

“Y/N, my love, hey look at me,.”

You muffled a no into your palms as you hid your face in them. You did peak out from between your fingers and once you registered his worried face, and dropped them.

“Hey, it’s okay. You never have to run away from me. Don’t do that to me. I am not a middle-school boy. It’s just a bit of grumbling. I am more worried about why you were hungry in the first place. Did you eat dinner yet?” he said, his voice brimming with concern.

You shook your head.

“Lunch?”

You shook your head again.

“What am I going to do with you? Come on,” he said as he pulled you up to your feet.

“I am just going to buy The New York Times, if that’s what is going to get you to eat on time,” he said, but laughed when he saw you look at him incredulously.

He threw his arm around your shoulder and walked you towards your kitchen, if you could call an open area with cooking appliances and vintage equipment that, and said,” I am just kidding, baby. Let me cook you something.”

Yup, definitely falling in love with Tony Stark.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (18)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Life is like an endless road. Sprinkled with pitfalls, choices, regrets, happiness, doubts... so many things that could keep you going... or to end the journey permanently. At every important moment, two paths are open to you. and every path you take will have consequences. This is called the butterfly effect.

But when you look at Danny's life, you quickly notice that he continues on his way even though it should have stopped. Already just during his childhood, he escaped death twice. The violence he suffered because of his "father" almost cost him his life. then when he lost Carla. At first, our dear assassin wanted to end his life before changing his mind at the last moment, feeling unable to do so. That's when the truth came out. That's when his life took a whole different path. And the rest you know.

And there... there is another way opens up. The path you've opened. But how far will this path go? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain: Jed will have to disappear. Danny still can't believe you prefer Jed to him. Such a boring life is almost unbearable! While a life with him... exciting, dangerous is what makes him feel alive! We're going to have to really work on that. As for McKellan.... his time is running out now.

It's all set. All that remains is to wait. Once the discord between him and Hoggins gets to a certain point.... He will strike. It is not in his style or in his habit to blame someone else. But he has to admit that it was fun to make Wilhelm go around in circles. He couldn't wait to see his face when he found out that Danny had put him on a false trail.

“A little romantic dinner, huh? I knew that under those glasses and that nerd look there was a romantic boy.” said Melinda suddenly, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Oh, that's right. Have dinner. With you. He sent you a message to see if you'd prefer a restaurant or a meal at his house. And your answer was not long in coming, with a nice touch of humour, you told him that you would like to taste his cooking.  He is not a great Michelin-starred chef but for you he will be able to make a meal worthy of the greatest restaurants. And with a little luck... he will be able to enjoy the softness and warmth of your body for the night... what? Don't forget that he is a man, above all! A man with needs... important carnal needs.

“I may be a nerd, but I'm not an idiot either. And then it was you who told me that I had to think more often about my personal life than professional, right?” said Danny scratching his head.  

“that’s true, but I didn't think you'd listen to me. And also, at home. this story could end well ... If you know what I mean.”  

“Not on the first night. That's not her style. Plus, we're not really ... Together. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of a relationship but... It can also be an embarrassing misunderstanding. I'm not sure it's reciprocal. She can always change her mind...

“Don't start telling you that the war is lost if you haven't fought in one battle! You don't know anything and that's normal! tonight it will be the perfect opportunity for both of you to be sure that it is reciprocal. And if that's the case... then this may be the best night of your life.” replied Melina seriously.

“Yeah, you’re right. I'll see what happens tonight. the boss's plan seems to be working. Apparently Hoggins is going to press charges against the Georgia newspaper. And he's not even aware that we've published it.” said Danny, re-placing his glasses properly.

“The most amazing thing about all this is that Hoggins has a tooth against McKellan! Apparently, he thinks he was the one who sold the wick to the journalist. it's going to create tension...” said Mattew, stretching his arms.

“That's going to spice things up. It can only be beneficial to us. Now don't make mistakes. If hoggins learn that it is us and that in addition they were stolen from his home ... we can say goodbye to life.” said Melina.

Jed nod while Danny smiled slyly. He will be dead long before he tries anything. Because of course Hoggins is going to die. When and how Danny doesn't know, but one thing's for sure: he'll kill him. Then maybe he will consider living somewhere else... You never know. and if he could take you with him... that would be the icing on the cake. He can't wait to see you tonight. More than ever. He wonders what you're going to wear... something soft for sure.  

But it won't be the most interesting... the most interesting will be how the evening will end... He took the opportunity to bite into one of your pastries, since your reopening, you provide the newspaper with pastries and coffee. and everyone appreciates it! But Hembrook is the greediest. His personal order was rather.... Long. the latter passed through the offices, a brownie in hand before stopping in front of our trio.

“Don't forget you have a Ghostface article to write! I'm counting on you my little Jed to get a quality article!” He said with a proud smile.  

“Of course, sir. You can count on me, I'm on my way.” respond Danny with a smile.  

“This little bandit of Wilhelm does not give us much info. Did you find anything on your side?”

“Well... I shouldn't talk to you about it but... I found pictures... really horrible pictures... I didn't think he could do that. I... I dropped them off at your office.. So, you can see it for yourself. But I don't mean to offend you... you had a criminal among your employees.” replied Danny, holding back from smiling.

Two actually, but that, old man, you don't know. Because compared to Mike, Danny is a real cover-up pro.

“Yes... I can imagine the worst. Even though he was a drug addict, I can't even imagine what kind of crap he was doing. I'll be in my office. By the way, you'll tell your friend that I love her cakes! I'll pay for it at the end of the month. At work little kids!

Danny and the others resumed their work, the latter working to catch his article about the drug dealer they recently found. With Mike's murder, it's a big job but it doesn't scare our young reporter. All he cares about is your little face-to-face tonight. Just him and you... both in the same room. The little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

The day passed quickly, the lunch break allowing everyone to take a breather, Danny took the opportunity to watch what he could cook you tonight. A Milanese cutlet with spaghetti was his final choice. He has everything at home to do them. What? Did you expect him to have only sandwiches and ready meals? Danny is a fine mouth and he likes to cook despite his ...bloody inclination. and you're going to be able to see his culinary skills tonight. Actually, Jed's skills from your point of view.

He has to make his alter ego disappear. once and for all. He was tired of being the nice little Jed Olsen. He wanted to be himself. He left his job and came to pick you up as usual. You were exhausted but delighted with this little meal between you. The way home was a laughing as usual and you separated in front of your apartment doors. Danny had three hours in front of him to prepare dinner. He's got plenty of time.

He put his things in his office, took a change, and went to take a good shower. hey he must be presentable tonight! no glasses, no hair tied, it's a very different "Jed" that you're going to see tonight. He left the bathroom, wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers. Well, they were white at the base but ... let's say that time has done its work. He was handsome, he knew how to showcase himself, without any artifice. Natural beauty is all that attracted him and made him attractive.

He began to prepare the meal, being careful not to be wrong. He has to make a good impression! if he has calculated his shot correctly, he will have to cook everything when you are there. He'll have a good half hour of conversation with you before he gets to the table. everything was calculated, like his murders. I told you, Danny is meticulously meticulous. Once the meal was ready, just waiting to be baked, Danny prepared the table, simple, sober, but effective. He opened a bottle of wine and tasted it before he smiled. A quality wine for a quality meal.

He placed the bottle on the table and checked that everything was in place and once that was done, made sure that the door of his office was locked. We never know, curiosity is a nasty flaw, and nothing says you won't try to get into it. He barely had time to return to the drawing-room, when he heard knocking at the door. A sneaky smile came to his lips. It's time.

He opened the door, and what he saw left him speechless. You had styled your hair in a beautiful bun, leaving two thin strands of your hair on either side of your face. You had very slightly made-up, very discreet that it does not even seem that you have any. You were dressed in a white and blue striped dress, flesh-colored tights and small navy-blue ballerinas. An angel, you were an angel. And visibly, Danny didn't leave you indifferent either.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” said Danny, regaining his spirits.

“So are you. I wonder if I'm at the right address. What did you do with the real Jed Olsen?” You said laughing, making Danny laugh at the same time.

“Oh, let's say that when night comes, the little nerd I am is giving way to a perfect gentleman. Especially when I'm in perfect and charming company. But come in, please. The evening will be more pleasant inside than in front of my doormat.”  

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman.” you replied, coming in while Danny smiles slyly, closing the door behind you.  

“dinner is practically ready, but I'm saying we could... chat a little bit. Unless you're really hungry and then I better cook everything before you become a little demonic creature.”

“Really Funny Jed, don’t worry I'm not like Mattew. By the way, everyone enjoyed my cakes?”

“Yeah, especially Mr Hembrook, he's a real glutton, you would have seen him he wouldn't have stopped if you'd brought him more. But keep it to yourself, he's supposed to be watching his line. In fact, his wife does it for him. I met her once and I can confirm that these two there was meant to be together, they are literally day and night. But as they say, opposites attract each other, don't they?”

“It’s true. Melina told me that... that we were all connected to our soulmate in one way or another. and that all our lives we were guided to him or her. After that is it true ... In a sense when I think of my parents, or the Lawsons, I tell myself that it's true. But when I see some couple separating after years of married life.... I tell myself that it doesn't necessarily work every time. Or that we wanted to thwart fate and it put us back on the right path.” You answer shrugging your shoulders, looking at him.  

“Sure...Well, Can I have a drink for you? If I remember correctly, you are not very friendly with alcohol then... Can I buy you a cup of tea? You'll still drink wine at least? just have a drink if you really don't want to, to make me happy.” He asks smiling.

“Yes, for the tea, and just one glass of wine, to make you happy.” You respond, smiling in return.  

Danny serves you a small cup of tea and then give it to you before serving himself and sitting on the couch. You join him and talk for a good half hour. You discuss everything, Danny of his work, you of yours, recalling your little feat of yesterday. Danny smiled, the thought of you mastering this poor fool made him laugh inwardly. Who would have thought that this fragile little body was capable of such a thing? After this half hour of discussions, he got up and put the cutlets into the oven. He pulled out a jug of water that he had put in the fridge, to place it on the table on your side. He then turned on the pan where the spaghetti has cooked to warm them up a little before serving on the plate. Once the cutlets were cooked, he placed them gently on the plate and took them to serve on the table.

“I'm not a great Michelin-starred chef but... I hope you like it.” He said scratching his head.  

“Oh, come on! I'm sure it's very good! Don't underestimate yourself like that! and at worst... You'll be my guinea pig for the next three months.” You respond laughing.

“Well, if it means free cakes...Why not?”

You start eating and he's taking only a bite to congratulate Danny, or rather Jed on his meal. Jed smiled as Danny smiled more widely, of course his cooking was good. He told you, you would be treated like a queen if you preferred him to Jed. The meal went in good spirits, from the dish to the dessert.

“It was really delicious Jed. Thank you. It's been a long time since I've had a... one-on-one with someone. If we ignore the meal, we made at the Chinese restaurant of course. And in the end, you do very well in the kitchen ... Carla was really lucky to have you.” you said smiling.

“Carla taught me everything. If she hadn't helped me with cooking, I would have been a great instant noodle addict.” Danny responds.  

“... There's something I'd like to talk to you about. It's... It's about the two of us. I... I know you can't turn the page since... I mean, you know. But lately, we've both shown signs of affection...”

“We kissed. Twice. The first time was you and the second time was me. And you wonder if... if it's reciprocal on my side. You want to know for sure.” Replied Danny rising from his chair to stand beside you, his eyes staring at yours. He laughs slightly, seeing you nodding, blushing.  “It's true that... I'm having a hard time moving on. Carla... was everything to me. She was the only one who didn't treat me like... someone different. And since we've known each other, I've felt that way again. So, if that can answer your question...”  

He kissed you, without warning, and this time the kiss lasted longer. The softness of her lips added to the softness of his... It's a double feeling of silk touch, both for him and for you. As he was about to release you, Danny was surprised when, against all odds, you kissed him again, not wanting to let go of his lips for a second. Both eventually backed off and a smile was exchanged between the two of you.

“Is that okay with that answer?” he simply asks.

“Yes. You know I don't promise to be the perfect girlfriend...”

“I don’t promise to be the perfect boyfriend too. We're probably going to fight one day. For anything and everything. But know that if you have problems ... I'll be there. I won't let anyone near you. To hurt you, of course.”

“Me too. I... I’m started to be tired. I'm going to go to bed.” you replied, rising up and starting to walk you to the door. Danny hugged you and kissed you one last time.

“Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.” He simply said.

He let you go and addressed his angelic smile when you close the door. He cleared it all, wash the dishes, changed and went to bed. Looking at the ceiling he let himself be dragged by sleep. No stalking tonight. But in his mind one thing was clear:

When it all ends. When no one is on his way, whether it's McKellan, Hoggins, or those who will approach you... He'll have to be the only one in your eyes. Jed will have to disappear.  

FOREVER.

***

(Done! well I took my time and start writing only since Wednesday, but I did it! I hope you’ll like it like the others! time for me to rest this week-end! have a good week-end everyone! See ya!)

[pocketsizeddemon]

Partners in Crime

I was listening to Set It Off's Partners In Crime and this happened. Enjoy~ 

1.5k words, AO3 

           “Did you see the bullshit on this morning’s newspapers?” you said as you passed the aforementioned newspaper to Jaehyun. It read:

            The real-life Joker and Harley Queen have struck again. The famous criminal couple, that remains unidentified, have succeeded in yet another bank robbery. The police are baffled as there seem to be no clues so far to help with the investigations. Expert criminologists call their robberies proper “works of art” as they seem to be perfectly executed.

            Jaehyun sighed. Of all the things that those idiots could nickname you, why did it have to be that? “Bonnie and Clyde are right there! Whatever the hell makes them think that I’m a deranged lunatic that abuses his wife? …At least they got you right. You definitely are a hot genius.” He commented with a crooked smile that made his dimples show.

            “Must be because you’re calling me baby doll all the time” you replied, sticking your tongue out to him. “Works of art though.” you bit your lip as you quoted the article. “Now that’s a compliment. I wonder if they’re saying the same when they’re writing their reports.”

            “Well we’ll never have to worry about that now, don’t we baby doll?” he answered sweetly. Mock him all you may but he knew how much this little nickname made your heart flutter. He stood up to hug you and rest his forehead on yours. “They don’t know who we are my beloved, we’re ghost walking among the streets, we leave no traces, and even if they do find us, they’ll never take us alive.”

            Truth be told, you’ve been carrying the oath you gave on your wedding day long before you actually married. Until death do us part was always part of your relationship since the beginning. Jaehyun was a bank employee and you were the secretary of the bank’s manager in the same bank when you first met. The beginning of your romance was sweet, like all other love stories. There weren’t exactly any money problems you faced and there weren’t any rumors about you two being a thing but you both hated the situation for various reasons. Jaehyun’s patience broke the day you came home furious because the greasy old manager had touched you inappropriately.

            It was a few days later that Jaehyun ‘died in a car accident’ and a few more days until a ‘fire of unknown origin’ broke down in your apartment, strangely both leaving your ‘bodies’ conveniently unrecognizable. It was a genius beginning to your plan. No one could arrest a dead man after all. A week later, your legacy as lovers and partners in crime began with a perfectly executed murder and the heist of the bank that you two used to work at. The murder of the manager was a little unnecessary but Jaehyun wouldn’t let the asshole that groped you walk around unpunished. Plus the element of fear was a good way to shut everyone up and made sure they’d behave.

            You’d never forget that day. As you felt Jaehyun’s arms around you and his lips on your forehead, you could still hear bits and pieces from that fateful evening.

Everybody freeze!

Nobody move, or we will shoot.

Empty out the vault and please, put the money in the bag so my doll and I can be on our way.

            And so your lives like spoiled royalties began. You had forged fake identities, it being insanely easy with all your new-found wealth. From there the sky was the limit. Expensive hotel suites, art heists, pricey jewelry and clothes, more bank robberies and of course, your wedding with the love of your life.

            “Jae?” you sweetly blinked up to him, “I love you.”

            “I love you too baby doll.” He answered as he leaned down for a kiss. You took a look at his curved lips, dimples showing just for you. Standing up on the tips of your toes as you reached for the back of his neck to pull his face down to yours. He kissed you softly, yet passionately, still knocking the breath out of your chest in the most comfortable. He slowly pushed you towards the bed, his hand falling to either side of the pillow to keep himself from crushing you.

            “Does my beloved queen want her well-earned jewels?” Jaehyun had developed an interesting kink since the beginning of your controversial career. Said kink was buying you expensive jewelry and having you wear them in bed. You rolled your eyes at his suggestion and slanted your lips over his before wriggling under him to go pick something out. His favourite piece was an extravagant body chain adorned with Swarovski crystals and you decided to wear that, picking a not so little extra piece.

            You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t get off to this new kink of his, the thrill kicking in, and through it, you also realized that you loved it when Jaehyun wore rings in bed. There was just something sexy about feeling the cold metal on your skin contrasting his warm touch. Now wearing only the body chain and holding a marvelous gold ring for Jae, you seductively walked towards the bed.

            His reaction was instant, something carnal and dangerous glowing in his eyes, a dark and lust-ridden low grunt rumbling from his chest. He made a move to get up, as he was resting on the headboard in just his boxers, but before he could make a move, you straddled his lap. You offered him the ring and he caressed the chain that adorned your body.

            “No matter what you wear, you’re always a goddess to me. But damn is it wonderful to see you like this.” His hands went to your hips, roaming the soft skin and making you shudder. He pulled you in for a kiss, your hips moving involuntarily against his growing erection. His kisses traveled lower to your jaw, neck, and chest and as your noises grew needier, so did he grow hungrier for you.

            “Jae” you moaned out his name. “I want to ride you tonight.” You said pushing his hair back as he was focused on sucking one of your nipples. His dick twitching was enough of an answer for you and soon he was fully naked, the tip grazing your wet folds. You slowly took him in, breathless moans dropping from your lips as he stretched you out.

            The delicate chain moved with every small grind and breath you took, making Jaehyun feel mesmerized. He was trying really hard to keep his composure but your body drove him crazy. He started meeting your pace, his hands trailing the small of your back.

            “Fuck!” you moaned as he met your hips with a, particularly hard thrust. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you tried to ride him at a steady pace, but with every grind, he met you halfway and hit places that were making you lose your mind. He loved letting you call the shots, but it seemed like he was coming unhinged. 

            He didn’t give you any warning as he grabbed your hips and lifted you up. His fingers squeezed the sensitive skin as he thrust up relentlessly, making you leave out a cry that was full of pain and pleasure. That familiar knot began to tighten in your stomach as you felt every inch of him, getting you closer to your peak and sure to leave you sore the next morning.

            Your nails left scratches on his shoulders, as your hands moved to grab the headboard behind his head for support. You could only relent as he fucked you hard and fast, the sound of the bed creaking combined with his deep growls and your wanton moans as lust overtook both of you.

            His teeth latched onto your breast, biting down on the sensitive spot as he continued to ravage you. Every nerve in your body was screaming for release and one particularly hard thrust had you coming undone on his cock. You screamed as your orgasm hit you, tightening around him, your legs wrapping like a vice around his waist. He gripped your hips harder and thrust faster as he chased his own high and sent you into delicious oversensitivity. You couldn’t do anything but whimper as he spilled his seed inside you, a low growl leaving his lips.

             The comedown was sweet, it always was. Jaehyun muttering sweet nothings in your ear as he left soft fluttery kisses all over neck and face making you feeling fuzzy. He helped you remove the now insanely uncomfortable chain and cleaned you up before lying down next to you. As he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, you let out a soft chuckle.

            “Hey baby?” you said with a sleepy yet sinister smile. “Can I bring out the cuffs next time?” He pulled back just a little bit with a worried expression that soon turned into a smirk.

            “I’ll let you do your worst, baby doll,” he stated before kissing you goodnight.