#trust me these things learn super fast

[hoofae]

Hey guys I don't want to sound mean and I know everyone likes generic anime twinks (especially if they're free!!) but there are ways you can get access to that other than using software that steals from actual artists without consent. Commissions are so cool.

[foreverdolly]

࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 5 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 6.6k

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“Move.” 

He was like an impenetrable wall. 

You attempted yet again to step around Feyd, your outstretched hand just barely brushing against the door before the man turned his body, blocking you from the exit. He stood with his arms crossed, using his much larger frame as a barricade. After the. . . events that transpired last night, the only thing that was on your mind was freedom. You needed breathing room, if only for a few minutes. Feyd had been your shadow for the last three days. He hadn’t left your side even for a second. 

You wanted to trust him, even against your better judgment, so you tried to believe that it was only because he wanted to protect you. There was still that overly cautious voice nagging at you, telling you that he was looking for weaknesses to use against you later. His all-seeing eyes could be sizing you up, making note of how many bites it would take for him to swallow you up whole. The last thing you wanted was to be consumed by this place. . .  Consumed by him.  

The events that had transpired in your guest bedroom four days ago had your suspicions rising, and you needed to be certain that you were just paranoid before you could even begin thinking about your fast approaching wedding ceremony. 

You had feared your impending fate for the entirety of your life. That had always been the one thing that frightened you most, and yet here you were, bruised and battered. It was crazy to believe that there were people on Geidi Prime that were worse than Feyd-Rautha. . . and yet here you were, depending on him for safety. You needed answers. 

How had the guard even entered your room in the first place? 

“I won’t tell you again. Move.” Your jaw ached, teeth grinding together as you tried to keep yourself from striking him across that cocky face of his. 

The skin between his brow bones wrinkled ever-so-slightly as he stared down at you. It was almost as though he was scolding a small child, watching them flail and cry after their punishment had been dealt. Last you had checked, you’d done nothing wrong. Why were your basic rights being revoked after the attempted murder? Why did it feel like you were the one paying the price? 

“Either you come with me and train or you stay in our room until I grab you. You have two choices. Pick one.” The pale Na-Baron almost seemed bored of your antics and you couldn’t blame him. 

You’d been fighting him every chance you got ever since he had forced himself on you last night. A silent vow had been made right then and there: you were going to make his life a living hell, only stopping once you deemed he had done his proper penance. 

“I like neither of those options. Watching you train has done nothing for me. I want to learn-” 

“You don’t need to learn how to fight. Is it not the husband’s duty to protect his wife?” He tilted his head to the side, staring down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes. 

Why was he so obsessed with the idea of protecting you? The most he did while the two of you “trained” was block your onslaught of attacks. Gurney wasn’t afraid to hit you in the sparring ring, even if you ended up injured and butt-hurt. He was blunt and told you the ways that you could improve yourself, meanwhile Feyd had been treating you like you were made of porcelain ever since the assassination attempt. You hated it. With your vocal cords still fried from the strangulation, you were made all too aware of the fact that your fighting skills were subpar. 

You’d tried goading Feyd into attacking you head on many times, but no matter what you said he still held his punches. The difference between his treatment of you and other’s was startling. Someone could look at him wrong and he was immediately jumping down their throats, ready to strike with lethal precision. 

“One day you will have to leave me alone, if even for a few minutes. . . and what then? You can’t always be there-” You were trying desperately to explain, and yet he would hear none of it. He looked almost offended by what you were saying. 

“I will always be here,” He was quick to interject, eyes suddenly wild. “I won’t let anything hurt you again.” 

Realistically you knew that your heart shouldn’t be pounding the way that it was. 

Still, there it was, hammering away in your chest. Every once in a while it was almost as though that dark veil that he had cast over himself was lifted, revealing someone entirely new to you. Someone, as much as you hated to admit it, that was entirely too likable. Loveable, even. His constant changes in personality were starting to give you whiplash. Was he someone completely different when he was around you? Or was he just trying on different faces to see which one you liked better? 

You clenched your fists at your side, trying hard to calm your raging emotions. His actions last night were completely barbaric, and yet you couldn’t forget the softness of his lips. The warmth of his mouth over yours had plagued your dreams and made it impossible to sleep. It was insane of you to feel this conflicted about something. You should hate everything about this man, and yet here he was, promising to be your protector. More than that, he was promising to stick around, which was arguably more terrifying. 

“I’m going then. Will you not be coming with me?” He unfolded his arms, reaching a hand out for you to take. 

It hung there in the space between you two, his pale fingers twitching. For a second you contemplated taking it. Regretfully you realized that you had something that you needed to look into. 

“I’ll stay here,” You faltered when you saw the hint of rejection in his eyes as he let his hand fall back to his side. “My bruises are tender today, so I’ll just take a bath.” 

Why were you trying to make him feel better about your refusal? This was all too confusing. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he turned on the heel of his boot and walked through the door, careful to close it tightly behind him. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, moving forward so that you could press your forehead against the cool metal. It felt good against your flushed skin. 

“I won’t leave until I hear you slide the lock into place.” His deep voice was muffled behind the thick barrier between the two of you. 

You closed your eyes tightly, sliding your hand against the door until you found the lock, clicking it soundly into place. It must have appeased him, as you heard his retreating footsteps just a second later. 

Time ticked by as you waited to be free of your newfound guardian. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the hallway sneaking around. Feyd would surely side with his uncle if you were to tell him all about your suspicions, so you’d rather just investigate on your own until you had solid evidence. You wanted to believe that you hadn’t been set up to die, and yet you had this intense gut feeling that this all went even deeper than that. 

Why would they make good on the promised engagement if they just wanted to kill you? It’s not like you were any real threat, other than the fact that you had been blessed with your mother’s gifts. As you were now, you were basically useless, which was a very hard pill to swallow. 

Slowly you unlocked the door, scared that the sound might alert someone. You had slipped the knife you had stolen during your first dinner on Giedi Prime into your belt, hiding it under the flowing black gauze of your blouse for good measure. Even if you were caught, you needed some way to protect yourself. 

The cold metal bit into your skin as you slid the door open, reminding you that you were safe. You will never let anyone hurt you like that again. 

This time you will be ready. 

Two rights and then three lefts. You had memorized the way to go in order to get to the left wing for this very reason. The Baron’s defenses would be tight, but his office would be relatively empty around this time. It was just about lunch, and according to Feyd he would retire to his personal quarters. If you could distract the guards for long enough to slip in, riffle around for information, and then get out. . . you’d be home free. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your skirt as you walked through the hall, training your expression to one of stony indifference. Modeling it after Feyd’s, you briskly made your way, hoping that the guards would be confused enough to let you pass without so much as a second thought. 

‘I belong here.’ You lied to ourself, trying to bolster your confidence. 

A few men in uniform turned to look after you, but no one stopped you. The way to the baron’s office was completely new to you. Feyd had never taken you this deep into the left wing before- only to get to the grand-hall to show you where the ceremony would be held. It was as large and foreboding as all of the other rooms on the giant estate, but the onyx floors had a certain shine to them as though there were flecks of quartz sprinkled throughout. You didn’t want to admit it at the time, but it was a rather extravagant place to get married. 

You’d nonchalantly asked if the Baron lived in the left wing seeing as the architecture was seemingly more grandiose. He couldn’t have known that you would try to make your way in this direction on your own because he had let it slip: the baron and his office were located very close to the grand-hall. 

“What are you doing over here?” The man’s voice was deeper than Feyd’s, though he was half his size. 

The guard at his side looked to be twice your age, and yet the expression in his eyes made you think that he wouldn’t think twice about ripping your head straight from your shoulders. 

“The Na-Baron asked me to come and get you two.” It felt awkward using Feyd’s title, stuffy even. 

The two blinked a few times in disbelief, looking you up and down as if you were an insignificant worm. It was almost like you could hear their thoughts. You were nothing but a pitiful Atreides, so what were you doing taking orders from someone as important as your soon-to-be husband? They doubted that he would ever confide in you for anything other than warming his bed. 

“He told me that the two men standing in front of the Baron’s office were needed in the training room.” The sooner they were gone the better. 

Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion, slowly looking behind them at the large door they were currently standing in front of. How would you know that this was his uncle’s office unless you were explicitly told? 

“Did he mention why we are needed?” There was still a hint of distrust in the older man’s voice, but it was far overshadowed by fear. 

Feyd was unpredictable. Unpredictability and psychosis made for a dangerous combination. 

“Another guard confided in him yesterday. Said that the two of you said something disrespectful recently and that he wanted to personally have a word with the both of you. I don’t know anything more than that.” You wanted them so frightened that they would completely abandon all reason. They needed to be gone long enough to give you time to properly search the place. 

You watched as their pale faces went a sick shade of pale purple. The two looked like the gossiping type, and if their expressions were anything to go off of then you must be right. They were quick to bow their heads in your direction before jogging off, muttering curses under their breath. 

A second. Two seconds. Three. . . 

You opened the door as slowly as you possibly could, praying that it wouldn’t make a noise. You waited to see if you could hear any movement, wondering whether or not the inside was being watched as well. Thankfully you heard nothing. The room wasn’t as massive as you had been expecting. It was just about as large as the first bedroom you had been placed in was, but somehow it looked even darker. It still had the strangely textured walls and beautiful floors, same as the grand-hall, but there was something unsettling about it. The only light coming in was through the large window that was located in the middle of the room, but the world outside was a slate gray, so even that was dim.  You didn’t have time to look out the large window, no matter how curious you were about your new surroundings. There was something that you had to do. Making a decision on how you should go about this whole predicament was paramount, and you refused to do it after the wedding. 

There was still time to try and contact your parents back home if you had suspicions of a possible murder plot. 

The Baron’s desk was neat, not a speck of dust marring it’s matte black surface. You weren’t looking for anything in particular. . . just something that would put your mind at ease. Confirmation was needed, one way or another. Either Feyd’s uncle was innocent or guilty. Of what? You weren’t quite sure yet. 

You riffled through the papers that sat on the middle of the table, careful to stack them up exactly where they once were. The information in them seemed useless to you. Financial documents- most of them discussing the retrieval of spice. Never once had you stepped foot on Arrakis, so you found them slightly boring at worst and mildly interesting at best. It was then that you started tugging at the very few drawers, knowing that you would be found at any second. There were no sounds emitting from the hallway, but that didn’t mean anything. Most of the people on this planet were freaks of nature it would seem. You suddenly began to doubt that there would be any evidence here of all places. 

Asking the guard that attempted to kill you and his accomplices questions would have been the best route, but your fiance had acted rashly before you even had the chance to catch your breath. The time to give up on your investigation was near. Seconds had turned into minutes. Your heart was pounding up in your throat, making it hard to breathe as you opened the last drawer. 

It turned out that it wasn’t a drawer at all but a small cabinet. You had to crouch down and squint your eyes in the dark to see inside. The contents would have been useless to you in most cases, but something caught your eye. . . and terrified you in ways that you couldn’t quite put into words. 

It was a cabinet filled with marked- 

“Did you see his face? It looked like he was surprised to see us.” The male’s voice had you standing up so fast that a muscle in your neck twitched, resulting in a dull pain shooting up the base of your head. 

You were about to be caught. Any second now they would be back at the door, and where would you hide in the hallway? The billowy skirt that the ladies in waiting had brought to Feyd’s room this morning nearly sabotaged you as you tripped by the door. They were just around the corner, only a few steps away from his office now. 

What would happen if you were caught? Would the wedding be called off? Would you be punished severely? 

You closed the door as quietly as you could behind you, running in the opposite direction that the two begrudged guards were coming from. You only skidded to a stop when you saw that this hallway was also heavily guarded, their backs turned to you. 

This was the worst case scenario. You were running in the opposite direction where you had come, which meant that you had absolutely no clue where you were going. There was no way that you would get out of this without some sort of formal permission, and two guards were already suspicious of you. Oh, and you couldn’t use the Voice if things started going south. 

If you could sink right into the floor, right in this moment, you would. 

The cabinet in the baron’s office was filled with keycards, each labeled with numbers that must correspond to each room. Only two were missing- two keycards that belonged to a room that had been organized on the wall of the right side of the cabinet. Left wing and right wing. The guest rooms were located in the right. 

There was no way that was a coincidence. . . not when you were staying in the right wing the night that you were injured. You had been given a keycard at the very beginning of your stay. Not even your ladies-in-waiting had a way to get into your room by themselves. They had to knock on the door and wait for you to unlock it from the inside for them. 

So if you had one keycard. . . then who had the other? Had someone broken into the Baron’s room just the same as you had, perhaps?  

A sudden grip on your wrist had your mouth falling open, your lungs seizing as you sucked in a breath, your body's natural reaction being to scream. A hand was quick to press to your mouth, muffling whatever sound you could make. The hand belonged to someone tall, their body hard against your back as they ushered you into a small space. They pressed a button on the wall, and all you could do was watch in horror as the door slid closed behind the two of you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

It was pitch black in whatever tight space he had dragged you into. A closet, you surmised. Still, you could hear that his teeth were clenched as he spoke to you, voice deep and low as he whispered. 

Feyd. You hated the fact that you were so relieved that it was him. His presence here meant that you were safe. All you had to do was come up with some sort of lie as to why you were here. Walking alongside him wouldn’t dredge up any suspicions. No one would be the wiser if they saw the Na-Baron giving his soon-to-be bride a tour around the grounds. 

His chest was pressed tight against yours, and suddenly you found it hard to take in a single breath. It felt as though he might press himself straight into your ribcage. . . and maybe you really were going crazy, but you wouldn’t mind it if he did break you. The smoky, spiced scent of him was clouding your judgment. 

You were no longer yourself. 

“It’s none of your business.” You whispered back, trying to make your tone just as ferocious as his was. It lacked bite though, and he seemed to catch the way that your voice faltered ever so slightly. 

“Getting yourself killed the second that I look the other way. . .” He scoffed, and you wished so badly that you could make out his features in the dark. His body moved ever so slightly, as though he was leaning his head back in exasperation. “Do I need to bind your hands and ankles every time I leave the room? Are you that incapable of being without me even for a second?” 

“I got lost.” You hissed, the lie sweet on your honeyed tongue. You were getting better at being despicable. 

“Well, that’s too bad,” His voice softened, almost as though he was speaking to a child. “Getting lost in these halls isn’t hard to do.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened to the point of pain, and for a second fear flashed behind your eyes. You hadn’t feared Feyd since you first arrived on Geidi Prime, and it was as though you were being brutally reminded of just who warmed your bed at night. He could kill you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Those strong fingers were currently immobilizing you now, leaving bruises on your wrist where he held you so ruthlessly. 

“You’re a clever little mouse. What are you doing outside of my uncle’s door, hmm?” His hand freed one of your wrists, instead opting to grip your jaw so that he could move your head up. 

Could. . . could he see you? The breath loosed from your lungs and all you could do was squint your eyes, begging them to adjust to the darkness. He was in his element here, lost to you in the shadows. 

“If the guards caught you then they could deem you to be a spy. You would have been beheaded before I had time to get to you, and I’m sure that they wouldn’t have notified me before the killing took place. They know. . . how I am with you.” He chose his last words very carefully, faltering before he sounded the words out. 

“And how are you? With me, I mean.” You regretted the words as soon as they passed your lips, and yet you were curious. Were you nothing more than a pet to him? A plaything for him to take off of the shelf whenever it suited his mood? Perhaps he saw you as nothing more than a conquest.

Your hand shook as you began digging into your side, searching your belt for the handle of the blade that you had been carrying during your explorations of this labyrinthian prison. Slowly you pulled it out, pressing it against his side. 

You felt his muscles jump under his shirt as he realized you were now brandishing a weapon. His grip was still vicelike around one of your wrists, but he moved again, slowly looking down at his side to see exactly what it was that you were now threatening him with. 

“I could snap your neck right now.” 

“But you won’t.” That was the only thing that you were sure of. It was the only truth that you were clinging onto: Feyd Rautha would not harm you. 

He moved your head to the side, the blade pressing hard into his side as he leaned forward, squeezing the breath straight from your lungs as his hard chest pressed pressed pressed into yours. Your breasts felt as though they might burst and your heart right along with it. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, causing you to jerk in surprise. 

The knife dug into his side and you paled in horror as you realized what you had done. He groaned, the noise echoing in your ear due to your very forced proximity. You needed space. You needed to breathe. 

“No. I wouldn’t,” His breath was hot against your cheek as he slid his nose along the expanse of your neck. “Not ever.” 

It felt as though something was being pulled taught in your heart. At any second it threatened to tear free. He had galvanized a strange sort of reaction from you- one that you were wholly unfamiliar with. This was all too new and all too much. 

“Let go of me.” Your voice shook pathetically, and while it was a command. . . truly, you were begging him. 

“You’ve finally learned to tolerate me. Or is this developing into something that you weren’t prepared for?” There was something in his voice. . . something that you were entirely confident that he was incapable of displaying: feeling. “Is that why you haven’t been able to look at me since yesterday?” 

“I-I’m angry at you. Why do you think that I would be able to even stomach looking at you after that?” 

He pulled away from your neck, the blade of the knife dislodging itself by a few centimeters with the added distance. He groaned again under his breath, his hand moving your face yet again so that he could get a good look at you. Your jaw ached as his fingers dug in ever so slightly. 

“No, this isn’t the face of anger.” He sounded sure of that. 

And it scared you that he was right. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried desperately to see him in the darkness. Still, all you saw was black. 

“Then what is it? If you know so much then tell me.” 

“I don’t know. . .” And for a second you thought that you might have won this round somehow. “No one has ever looked at me the way that you do.” 

Your lips parted in shock as you stared up into the darkness. Did he always have to pull the rug right out from under you? Just when you were finally starting to get your bearings, he made you feel so unstable. If both of your hands were free then you would have tangled them in your hair. The arm that gripped your weapon slackened, the blade clattering to the floor beside you. 

“Then I feel sorry for you.” Your eyes pricked with tears, so you closed the useless things. Still, after all of this, you refused to let him see you cry. 

“I know.” He whispered, his voice so gentle that you could weep. 

“And I fear you.” 

“I know.” His forehead pressed against yours. 

“I don’t want this.” 

“I know.” He nuzzled against you, his grip on your wrists finally loosening. He must have known that you wouldn’t try to get away from him. 

The fucked up thing was that it felt as though your feet had grown roots, tying you to the spot. All it would take was one good shove and you would be free of him and the closet. And yet. . . 

And yet. . . 

“I could have sworn I saw someone over here.” The voice outside in the hallway made you jump, your eyes shooting open. 

You hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. Feyd’s earlier statement was coming back to haunt you. They would have you killed, uncaring as to whether or not you even made it into the bastard’s room. Whatever purpose you had for being in this area would be nefarious in everyone else’s mind. What were you even doing here in the first place? Your suspicions were unfounded, and more likely than not you would have found absolutely nothing to substantiate them. Would your parents be able to retrieve your body? Or would they just burn you without even sending a letter back home? 

Feyd’s hand slid up the base of your neck, gripping at your hair. Did he not understand how much danger you were in? Maybe he didn’t care afterall. His knee slid between your legs, forcing them open. 

“What are you doing?” You gripped at the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from you, hoping that there was some place in this cramped space that you could hide. The voices were getting even closer now, searching for where they thought that you might be hiding. It was only a matter of time before they found you. 

“Saving your life.” He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand sliding out of your hair so that he could begin undoing the front of your blouse. You could hear the sheer fabric of your tunic ripping beneath his hands in his desperate attempt to get to you. 

All you could do was grip onto him for dear life, unable to free yourself to even utter a cry. You were unsure as to how doing this would save you, but you were losing the ability to care much at all. If these were going to be your final moments then so be it. 

So you gave in to the desire. You gave into the wanting and the needing. You fed the ache that had been plaguing you. 

Your lips moved against his, parting so that you could fully taste him. His hands felt firm on your chest as he finally was able to tear you free of the cloth. The air was cold on your hot chest, and yet his hands were scalding against your skin. You tried to remind yourself that none of this was right, but it wasn’t working. His tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth and your own brushed up to meet his. 

More. More. You needed more of him. 

Your hands shook as they began pushing up at the fabric of his training gear. The breathable fabric stretched as you pressed your hand against his chest, finally allowing yourself to feel the hard planes of his muscles. You felt his stomach tighten as your fingers glided along his skin. You were unsure as to what you were searching for, but your body was acting on pure instinct. Your fingers reached up and up until they finally slid free of the fabric at his collar bones only to wrap around his throat.

He groaned into your mouth, his thumb brushing against your nipple. It hardened in response to the sudden attention it was getting. His knee pressed further against your thighs, spreading your legs out further for him until he was finally at the apex of your thighs. His hand flew from your breast to your hips, moving them for you against him. The friction caused your head to roll back against the wall behind you, disrupting the kiss as pleasure rocked through you. Never in your life had you ever felt anything quite like this. 

He continued to rock you back against his thigh, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on your face. He was watching you intently, hell bent on doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to your body. You were unsure of his goal and yet you didn’t care. Something was building inside of you- a sound, a cry, a sob. . . you weren’t certain. It just felt so good. Too good. 

He must have seen your lips part and was quick to press a kiss against them in an attempt to muffle the sound. Your knees felt weak beneath you, and if it wasn’t for his dutiful hands that gripped at your thighs then you were sure that you would have fallen ages ago. 

You remembered how he had felt against you the other night and you wondered if that was a reaction that you had somehow unknowingly caused. You wanted to feel him again. You wanted to know whether or not he was enjoying himself, so you freed his neck and instead pressed your hand against the front of his pants. What had gotten into you? What were you even doing? 

But he was hard against your hand and that was enough for you to begin rocking your hips against his knee without his prompting hands. 

The feeling of your tiny palm cupping him through his pants was more than enough. His hips jerked forward, his eyes flying open at the realization that the object of his lifelong obsessions was willingly touching him like this. He was going to fuck you in this closet if the two of you weren’t found. Feyd didn’t want it to happen like this. . . but he was losing what little control he had left. 

He loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you. 

“I-” 

The door flew open the second he opened his mouth, the bright light momentarily blinding him. His body moved on its own, Feyd’s hands moving from your hips up to your shoulders so that he could turn you, using his body to shield you from view. His chest moved up and down rapidly as he gulped down breaths, trying hard to calm himself and his pounding heart. 

There was an unfamiliar man holding the door to the closet, eyes wide as he took in the site of the two of you. It took him a few seconds to really register what was going on in the small broom closet, and then another to fully grasp the fact that he had made a grave mistake. 

“I-I-I had no clue it was you, sir.” The uniformed man stepped back, trying to show the Na-Baron respect. 

You watched in real time as something pure and terrifying bled its way into Feyd’s expression. It had chills running up your spine. 

“Turn your gaze away from her.” His voice was so low that you could barely understand what he was saying. “Now.”The other male quickly got the hint, turning his entire body to face the other direction. His back was ram-rod straight and you watched with a slack jaw as his knees began to quiver. 

You wouldn’t want to turn your back on a rabid beast either. 

“Just get me out of here. Please.” You spoke as quietly as you could, covering the scraps of material that used to be your blouse tight to your exposed chest. 

Killing the random guard in plain sight would attract a small crowd. You watched as Feyd weighed his options, and you bet that the two blades that were still strapped to his back were calling out to him. 

Silently Feyd pulled you out of the closet, holding you so tightly to his chest that your arm became uncomfortably pinned against you. 

The two of you walked through the halls silently, his eyes burning holes into the faces of anyone that even glanced in your direction. The embarrassment of being so exposed in front of everyone had you crawling out of your own skin. No one had seen you naked before- aside from the women that had been tasked to take care of you over the years. All you could do to try and keep yourself from crying was stare down at the floor, watching the pale man’s black boots make their way soundlessly through the halls. Everything he did was so graceful it seemed. 

The blood drained from your face as you were suddenly reminded of the fact that he had seen your chest completely exposed. He’d felt you, kissed you, and pleasured you nearly to the point of your undoing. 

And you had let him. You put up no resistance at all. 

Even worse, you wanted him to do all of those things to you. If you hadn’t been caught then how far would you have let things continue? In that moment you realized that you would have let him take you. You knew yourself well enough to know that you would have let him take your virginity in a broom closet. 

“No one is looking at you,” He seemed to sense your sudden mortification somehow. “I promise. I’d kill them otherwise.” And you knew he was telling the truth. He was probably taking an internal tally of anyone that started for too long, only so that he could circle back for them later. 

All you could do was nod your head and follow him down the hall, stopping only when he reached into his pocket and grabbed his own keycard, letting the two of you back into your room. 

You kept your chest covered with your hands as the two of you broke away. You knew that it was pointless, but the moment was gone and your panic had returned tenfold. 

“Now tell me,” He turned to face you and you watched as his lips turned down at the corners in slight disappointment when he noticed your sudden modesty. “What were you doing over there? Be honest.” 

You couldn’t be honest and it pained you to know that. Feyd was still a Harkonnen. He was loyal to them, not an Atreides. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You were answering a question with another question, but you needed to know. Urgently. 

He licked his lips, as though he was being reminded of the moment. “No one would ask questions.” 

Anger struck you hard in the gut. He had used the moment as a distraction? You felt like an idiot, already regretting the fact that you had allowed him to use your body like that. 

“I didn’t mean to take it that far. It’s becoming harder and harder to control myself.” He must have noticed the hurt in your eyes. “I want you. Not because we are getting married. . . but because I want you.” He was being uncharacteristically emotional today. 

You weren’t sure what that statement truly meant, but it seemed heavy- heavy enough that you felt the need to be more forthcoming with him. 

“I was trying to make my way into the Baron’s office.” A half truth, then. It was easier than telling him everything. “But it was locked.” 

Feyd’s eyes never left your face. They were much softer than they had been in the hallway, almost as though all of the hatred had melted away completely. He looked at you like he cared for you. . . and that was scary. 

“I don’t know why it hurts so much. . . but it does.” His voice was flat, almost as though he was distracted while he continued to watch you. “I know you’re lying to me. My uncle’s office is only ever locked after dinner, which is for safety reasons.” 

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep it from quivering. 

“Only my uncle has clearance to get into that room. The guards in the left wing only ever act on mine or the Baron’s orders. They’re all loyal to a fault. . . so tell me. Did you get into his office?” 

You completely ignored his line of questioning, distracted by something he had said. 

“So none of them would allow someone other than the Baron himself to enter that room?” Your voice shook with fear, your eyes widening as all the pieces started coming together. 

“No,” He looked confused as your lips parted in a silent scream. “What? What is that face for?” 

You felt more alone than you ever had in your entire life. He was out to kill you. . . There would be no escaping this place alive. Your parents had been set up and had given you away to murderers- 

“The guard that tried to kill me. . .” You couldn’t keep your voice from shaking. “What wing did he belong to?” 

Feyd’s muscles went rigid beneath his shirt, as though he was just now coming to some conclusions of his own. “The left.” 

The breath was knocked from your lungs as the full weight of everything crashed into you. 

You were stuck on an alien planet with no way home, Feyd Rautha was going to become your husband in just two days, you wanted Feyd so badly it hurt you. . . 

And his uncle was plotting to kill you. 

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

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[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at Stanley's wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took back his wallet from you. "Oh, you got some gift, kid. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

"No need," Stan snorted. "We can pickpocket the whole world together!'

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[honeytonedhottie]

how to be a whole new student this school year (A MASTERPOST)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀📔

HOW TO BE BETTER THIS SCHOOL YEAR ;

TAKE ADVANTAGE. take advantage of extra credit opportunities, make sure to advocate for urself and take advantage in any way that u can. by simply doing ur homework you'll have a much better grade in the overall class which gives u wiggle room to make a mistake. but if ur slacking off on ur homework, ignoring extra credit opportunities AND doing bad on tests then ur basically setting urself up for failure. and by doing the opposite then ur setting urself up for success.

something i've noticed (and im guilty of this too sometimes) is that i spend so much time making my notes aesthetically pleasing that i forget to actually go over them which defeats the whole purpose of notes. theres nothing wrong with having fun and creative adorable notes that spark joy and happiness but PLEASE actually use them, trust me you'll love them more…💬🎀

furthermore understand that getting good grades isn't as daunting and difficult as u may have imagined. just remember to always do ur homework, take advantage of extra credit, projects are an easy test grade, and get things done as fast as u possibly can.

FIND WAYS TO STAY MOTIVATED ;

the best way to stay motivated is through ROMANTICIZATION. when u learn to enjoy going to school, your going to be motivated to do well in school. because school is so IMPORTANT not only for ur education but also ur future. so take school seriously. and if u wanna become an academic weapon for the long term the best thing u can do is learn to make the best of, and enjoy it. some ways to romanticize school include ->

♡ create a school playlist that embodies the school vibes that u wanna have : i have lots of new jeans in my school playlist : i rly like the songs cookie, ditto and hurt for when im at school

♡ creating a study blog or study group to hold urself accountable in a fun and healthy way

♡ ur appearance : if u go to a school where u dont have to wear uniforms, i strongly recommend getting dressed and getting ready meticulously bcuz when u look good, u feel good, and therefore u perform well. if u do wear uniform, wear accessories or hairstyles that make u feel and look pretty. i wear leg warmers with my school uniform and my signature is hair clips and barrettes.

♡ read at school : i always walk around with a book bcuz i like to read a lot but if reading isnt ur thing, listen to a podcast about something that interests u (i rly like true crime)

♡ take pride in ur notes : invest in cute stationary! i swear, sometimes i dont feel like studying but since my stationary is super cute and pink i get motivated to study just by looking at it lol. invest in quality stationary that u love and make ur notes look pleasing to you, and also effective. effective + aesthetically pleasing.

♡ doing homework/studying in the library : or at least changing the scenery and location that u do ur homework from time to time. do yk how boring it is to do work in the same place every single day? give urself a break from the places u see all the time and spend time studying or doing homework outside of ur home. in a cafe or in the library, inside or outside, just change the scenery a bit

♡ start a video diary : i started a little video diary with my friends so that we can remember our school memories. i just think its rly cute and a great way to bond with ur friends, make memories, and romanticize school.

try and formulate a PASSION for learning as a way to cultivate the school romanticization attitude. be passionate to learn and be an academic weapon…💬🎀

CHANGE UP ROUTINES ;

in my next point i talk about the importance of routines but its also important to change little things about ur routine. dont go and change the whole structure of ur school routine but make sure to add little changes to spice things up and not keep urself like a hamster on a wheel. i find when i do this i just feel a lot better and its easier to romanticize.

MAKE A REGIMEN ;

make a pretty basic routine to stick to, to make sure that u balance school and personal life. having a routine can make falling into line and following through with tasks a lot easier. its easier to do things personally when u MICROMANAGE urself. at least from my own personal experience.

ABOUT STUDYING ;

every single day study (at least for a little bit) ofc this will vary depending on ur personal schedule but the goal is to do a little bit of studying everyday, and if that isnt possible, designating 3 days a week to a thorough studying session.

the way that i divide my time with a study session is 40 minutes of work time and 20 minutes of downtime. during the 40 minutes of work time u need to LOCK IN. lock in on whatever assignment needs to be complete or lock in on whatever material it is that ur studying. ofc this'll differ between all subjects but dont study all subjects in one night!! thats ambitious, but i find it'll just burn u out so stick to studying for 2-3 subjects max.

HOW TO STUDY WITHOUT BURNING URSELF OUT ;

♡ get off ur device. literally put the phone down. 9 times out of 10 the burn out that ur feeling is just the dopamine detox and laziness

arguably, the most important aspect to prevent burn out is ENERGY management. when ur burnt out u can literally feel ur energy tank on zero, so regardless of all the study techniques, however effective they may be, if u can't even muster up the energy to do them then they're useless…💬🎀

♡ get PRODUCTIVE rest. what is productive rest? scrolling endlessly on tiktok is NOT productive rest. productive rest is actually letting ur mind and body REST. like, taking a nap, indulging in self care, or whatever relaxes u.

STAY ORGANIZED ;

find a tool and stay ORGANIZED. i personally use notion. and on my school notion i create a space for me to write my own notes, a calendar to put important academic dates, resources like passwords and logins, and a to-do list where i can put down some of my assignments. keeping everything organized is so so important. its non digital as well, make sure to keep ur desktop space organized, ur supplies and physical notes organized also. the more organized the better.

SOME POSTS FOR RESOURCES ;

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by yours truly

ways to romanticize school - @4theitgirls

studying methods + tips - by yours truly

youtube channels to help u out this semester - @4theitgirls

creating a study schedule and routine - @prettieinpink

how to study like rory gilmore - @itgirldiary

my studying plans as an accounting major - @iluvprettygirls

citation resources - @workitgurl

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by me

khanacademy.org

coursera.org

annualreviews.org

google scholar - research

google calendar - organization

notion - organization

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 5)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 5 Too Much

Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」

19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏

When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 

His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 

Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.

Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”

Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”

You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.

You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.

Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 

You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 

You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 

Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 

Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.

He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.

You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.

Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 

There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.

“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 

Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”

You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 

“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.

He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.

You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 

Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”

His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”

The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.

All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 

If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 

“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.

He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.

“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”

His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.

Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.

Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.

You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 

Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.

When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.

A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.

Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 

You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.

“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.

A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.

A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 

“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”

You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 

He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 

Of course.

What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.

He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 

A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”

Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 

You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.

“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 

But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.

He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”

Without hesitation, Because I love you.

After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”

A huff, “And where you work.” 

“And the park where I like to get fingered.”

Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 

He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 

“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 

Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 

You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 

The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 

When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.

Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.

Had it been a dream though? 

After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.

A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 

“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”

When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.

“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.

Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.

Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.

Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 

He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.

When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”

“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 

He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”

Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 

That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 

After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 

As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.

A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.

Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 

The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 

“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.

A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”

Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 

You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 

It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.

There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 

Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.

If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 

It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 

So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 

Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.

You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.

Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

“Hey!”

You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”

“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”

Frank?

Oh, Frank.

You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.

“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 

“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.

Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”

There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 

“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.

You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Ah, you could see his bed. 

Where he slept.

Did he ever dream of you?

What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 

“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 

He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 

No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?

Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.

Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.

He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.

It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.

Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 

A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’

Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.

The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  

“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”

While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 

Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”

Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.

“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 

“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.

If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.

Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 

He was quick to grab your bag for you.

“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.

The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.

“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.

Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”

“Are there a lot of bucks around?”

“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”

You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 

The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.

“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.

Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.

But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?

He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.

Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.

You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 

Well.

“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”

The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  

You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.

“Are all men so clean?”

“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.

A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 

He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”

You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.

Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.

Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.

“Are you hungry?”

You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 

“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 

He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”

“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”

“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”

“We’re?”

A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”

Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”

“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”

He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”

“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”

Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 

You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 

Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.

“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”

His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”

“But for me?” Breath against your neck.

Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 

His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”

“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.

Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.

His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”

“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.

“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.

You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar,@straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove@saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , @sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re , @asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp , @angelxx7 , @katgirl05 , @impulsivethoughtsat2am , @sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

[stellarfoxian]

can i request v x fem human reader where it takes place during the promening episode? maybe they have a little dance together or bond during the battle with doll i guess :P

-🦷

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY!

character: serial designation v (murder drones)

a/n: hey guys…!!!! it’s been a while !!!!!! sorry for disappearing for 296721 years i’ve been really busy and demotivated recently lmao- anyways, im not really big on doing requests but this is such a cute idea and it gave me a sudden hit of inspiration so !!! im gonna do it :3 ALSO idk when or how you end up joining the crew so that’s up to you tbh.

warnings: human x disassembly drone (if that needs to be a warning? idk i know some people don’t like that), probably ooc im sorryyy

: ̗̀➛ v inviting you to prom ? oh, you got LUCKY.

: ̗̀➛ well… i guess it wasn’t really her inviting you. she explained her plan of “kill everyone, pop uzi’s little head off!” to you and was like “well. i guess you can come too or whatever.”

: ̗̀➛ and…. Depending on your personality you end up going with her to either make sure she doesn’t kill people or to help her kill people. fun !

: ̗̀➛ as for your outfit, n brought it back when he got his and v’s outfit !

: ̗̀➛ so, you go with her after she beheads n, (he’s fine. You hope.) the worker drones are SUPER curious about you. like what the hell are you doing here human. uzi already wasn’t very fond of you and you’re getting kinda nervous with all these stares.

: ̗̀➛ v notices, because of course she does.

: ̗̀➛ “just ignore them. they’re jealous of how fabulous you look.”

: ̗̀➛ she says as you step up backstage with her, waving at lizzy.

: ̗̀➛ this isn’t about her, but lizzy’s pretty chill with you.

: ̗̀➛ ANYWAYS! you probably know how this goes. v steps up to do her speech, gets crucified by doll. you try to help, but get THROWN by doll and her solver powers. Ouch. (you’re fine, trust.)

: ̗̀➛ after uzi and n pop in and n and v both get torn to pieces, you rush over to help them, picking up v’s arm- which she grabs from you.

: ̗̀➛ “MINE.”

: ̗̀➛ Okay, V.

: ̗̀➛ you’re just as mad at lizzy as she is. that traitor!

: ̗̀➛ fast forwarding to when everything is over, v wants to stay with you, so she convinces n and uzi to let her stay behind.

: ̗̀➛ though the music is kinda… janky, now that the boombox has been messed with, she holds her hand out to you.

: ̗̀➛ “wanna dance?”

: ̗̀➛ you’re kinda stunned. you didn’t know v liked to dance. or that she knew how to, actually.

: ̗̀➛ “do you… know how to dance?” you ask her in confusion.

: ̗̀➛ “…well, no. but it’s not too late to learn. just say yes before i change my mind!”

: ̗̀➛ so you take her hand. it’s a little hard to dance with a disassembly drone, considering that you’re a human, but you do your best! and it goes quite well, even though you stumble a bit.

: ̗̀➛ dancing with her is a learning experience for both of you, even if you already know how to dance. you have to learn how to dance with a drone now, so it takes some getting used to. but you manage!

: ̗̀➛ she learns pretty quickly, matching your movements almost perfectly.

: ̗̀➛ but eventually, you both tire out. so you call it a day and start to head back to the landing pod, holding her hand.

: ̗̀➛ wait.

: ̗̀➛ holding her hand?

: ̗̀➛ it took v a good while to realize she was holding your hand. and when she did, she pulled it away immediately. don’t take offense to it! she’s just embarrassed. you can tell by the blush lines on her visor…

: ̗̀➛ “i don’t want your human cooties.” she’d say, crossing her arms.

: ̗̀➛ i know what you are, v.

: ̗̀➛ you get back to the landing pod before n and uzi, and she turns to you before going to do her own thing.

: ̗̀➛ “i… i had fun. thanks.”

: ̗̀➛ and just like that, she’s off.

[pinkthingtragedy]

9 things that I've learned in the past few years thanks to having ana, mia and binge ed

1. the only way to actually see progress is to be consistent.

the only time I actually saw results was because I kept it straight for 3 months (but then I binged all the weight back, be careful)

2. don't restrict too much or you'll gain all your weight back (TRUST ME).

instead of eating less than 500 cal a day, calculate you average calorie intake online (for me it was around 1500 because I was eating out of emotions) and subtract not more than 300/400 cal. this will also help with the super hunger moments.

**this DOESN'T mean that now you have to take more calories away from your usual intake if you're already restricting, remember that your brain needs at least 500 cals to work, you can also fuck your metabolism up if you eat too less.

3. don't obsess with fasting.

it will simply fuck you up.

you can still do it sometimes, fasting is actually a healthy way to detoxify your body, just don't do it too often (one or two day a month is enough)

4. just don't think about it.

don't obsess, just try to stay on track, try to do this in the most healthy and responsible way possible, everything will be okay.

5. AVOID ZERO CAL DRINKS!!!!!!!!

I know this is shocking, especially because they help to fill up the hunger, but they also cause lots and lots of inflammation, that is exactly what is keeping you bloated and puffy.

If you don't want to avoid it, just try to drink them as little as possible.

6. throwing up on purpose shouldn't even be on your mind.

vomiting causes dehydration, which causes puffiness, bloating, water retention and plenty of other things that you don't want. it also ruin your teeth, your throat, your stomach, your breath will stink.

don't. do. mia.

7. the key to binges is water.

while you're in the middle of a binge remember to keep drinking water, it will fill you up faster and it will help you with your digestion.

8. unresolved freud oral phase? I got you

(if you don't know what the oral phase is look it up, lots of people with binge ed or food addiction have it)

you may find helpful: chewing gum, toothpick, lollipops, brushing your teeth, drinking water, biting something (a pillow for ex).

there is also smoking cigarettes or vaping, and to be honest it helps a lot, especially when you feel the urge to binge or emotional hunger in general, but you have to be careful to not get addicted (even if the 90% of us edblr people already are). just be careful.

9. if you're sick you have to eat.

you can't get better if you're not getting the right nutrients.

that's it.

[rottenpumpkin13]

It’s time to upgrade the vehicle choice to the company helicopters. AGSZC and the Turks + Rufus, who is the best, the worst, and the one who can fly it but can’t land it.

• Sephiroth is an excellent pilot, probably the most competent you'll find. He learned to fly helicopters when he was very young, has a knack for handling even the toughest situations, and his composure and precise maneuvers make him the go-to pilot in any crisis.

*Sephiroth is flying the helicopter*

Lazard: You're going a little too fast.

Sephiroth: Have you ever considered crashing a helicopter, faking your own death, and then living on a deserted island with stray cats until you can repurpose the helicopter’s parts to build a weapon for exacting revenge on your enemies?

Lazard: NO?

• Genesis boasts that he's the best pilot around and can indeed fly fairly well. But he requires intense focus and hates any distractions. He will snap at anyone who tries to talk to him while he's flying. ....scratch that, it depends on the topic.

*In the helicopter, Angeal sneezes*

Genesis: DON'T TALK TO ME! I WILL FLY US INTO THE FUCKING SUN I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS! THEY WILL BE FINDING VESTIGES OF OUR CORPSES FOR YEARS! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

Angeal: I think you should scream less.

*Genesis abandons the control*

Genesis: Did you just say loveless? Because I was thinking about the beauty of 'world's end' in act one, and—

Angeal: WE'RE FALLING

• It's a mystery how Angeal passed the pilot test, and even he's baffled why they keep entrusting him with the helicopter. He wishes they'd stop assigning him flying duties.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter*

Angeal: Are you sure I should be flying this thing?

Sephiroth: Of course. You're the responsible one.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter in circles*

Sephiroth: I trust you to land this helicopter responsibly.

*Angeal misses the helipad completely and is now doing zig zags*

Sephiroth: I value your responsibility.

*They are literally upside down*

Sephiroth: Land the helicopter, Angeal.

Angeal: LaNd tHe HeLiCoPtEr AnGeAl—WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?

*And now they're flying into the side of the building*

Sephiroth: Meet the goddess.

• Zack is completely bewildered as to why no one trusts him to fly a helicopter. Sure, he might have driven a car into a ditch once, and maybe he accidentally set a motorcycle on fire, but he's confident in his flying skills! He insists he's super competent and is always ready to prove it—just ask anyone (except Tseng. Tseng hears "Zack Fair" and "helicopter" in the same sentence and has a nervous breakdown).

*In the helicopter*

Zack: Thanks for coming with me. For some reason, the other guys are too scared to fly with me.

Cloud, wearing a helmet, extra padding, and holding a rosary: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE CRASHED! WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN!

Zack: Are you dead?

Cloud: No, but—

Zack: Success.

• Cloud's piloting skills are on par with Sephiroth's....though no one knew this until the first time he flew a helicopter.....Cloud doesn't have a license....people are confused and scared.

*Cloud is flying the helicopter*

Sephiroth: Strife, your piloting skills are excellent. Where did you learn to fly like this?

Cloud: Oh, I never learned.

Sephiroth: But you're flying the helicopter.

Cloud: Nothing gets past you, does it, sir?

Sephiroth:

• Rufus is adept at flying helicopters, but he rarely flies them because he has pilots and the turks to fly him anywhere he wants. He's also very stubborn.

Tseng: Sir, you might want to slow down a bit.

Rufus: I know what I'm doing, Tseng. I'll have you know that I fly better than most birds.

*Rufus doesn't avoid the incoming flock of birds and nearly crashes the helicopter into the building*

Rufus: ......

Tseng: They heard you.

[nevertheless-moving]

STORMLIGHT ARCHIVE AU MASTERLIST

List will be updated with links if/when AUs develop For my Star Wars AU Masterlist: Please See Here As always, people are more than welcome to play with any of these ideas! just please link back to me so I can see! Seriously if you want to write stuff in any form with ideas from any of these aus I will love you forever! 1 to 20: Words of Radiance AUS 21 to 30: Non Words of Radiance AUs (note: these might also be WOR AUs) 31 to 40: Post Winds and Truth Wild Speculation (that may or may not also be a WOR AU)

1 to 20 Words of Radiance AUS

[EDIT, Previous #1 Now #28]

2. High oath Hesina willshaper aus. This is actually many many AUs because the "Mom??" Reveal is great in all contexts. Concept, WOK Era Outline, Brief Fanfic

3. Renarin asks Kaladin for help with radiant stuff during WOR. Secret training. Everyone thinks they're fucking. Chapter 1 and Outline/Meta

4. Elhokar drunk orders kaladin to bedchambers, begs for help keeping away nighmare creatures. Kaladin nearly kills him before scary spren realization, then goes into serious radiant mode when syl gets ambiguously concerned. Everyone thinks they're fucking.[Note: I might be too easily entertained by this trope]. Kaladin is deeply pained by this but also has  people saving thing and really doesnt want to reveal the radiant thing to the whole camp. Earlier third oath. Eventual fucking optional, see above au, except with a bit more pity than vibeing for option a.

5. Crack. AUs 3, 4, and 9 at same time so people just think Kaladin is the Kholin Rhysadium. Bridge 4 offers government overthrow if he's being pressured. kaladin assures them that's not it. Now people keep trying to high five him. Kaladin with head in hands while Moash snarks over his shoulder "you know when i said fuck the lighteyed i didn't -" Kaladin definitely asexual in this one.

6. Hesina and lirin come to shattered planes, shocked/thrilled/emotional to find kaladin. Bridge 4 desperately trying to get approval of [bugs bunny meme our] parents. Lirin reluctantly adopting renarin who wants to learn about healing now for some reason. Blackthorn surgeon mutual loathing/ jealousy son swap hilarity. Lirin is having a time. 

7. Kaladin wasn’t on guard duty the night of szeth arrival. Still warned by syl about assassin, but has to dead sprint while glowing to get across camp fast enough, soft reveal to anyone outside. Only barely figures out wall running on the way over to crash in window just in time. Szeth freaks out and runs away after very short, mildly anticlimatic interaction. And now Kaladin has to deal with Everyone.

8. Kaladin further along in powers during initial szeth fight. Battle of champions degrading to slap fight when they run out of stormlight and get stuck on the plains. Concept/ Ask, Funny Severed Leg

9. Manufactured rumors about adolin/ kaladin. Effective political mudslinging for most of WOR. Shallan plays up things about her relationship with Jasnah to be a more appealing beard. [Previous #9 Is Now #33]

10. Kaladin has a meltdown in prison, breaks out of his cell. Just a little bit more stormlight...Shouts of alarm. Aaah glowing Assassin in white! Kaladin panics more. Adolin handles the situation like a champ. Kaladin maybe briefly kidnaps him.

11. Nale goes after kaladin instead of lift. Ohhh so many thoughts for parallels.

12. Syl immediately dive bombs pattern when kaladin and shallan meet. Really early radiant reveal but just to each other. Kaladin does not trust her but doesn't want to reveal his own status so just watches her super intensely...since she's also constantly watching him too, yes, this gets misinterpreted. See au 3 through 5 but more discreet. Veil is the one draggng him from the barracks for late night 'training sessions' [these are actually training sessions but veil flirts outrageously with kaladin when anyones in earshot. So.] that distracts things a bit.

13. Adolin, suspicious after the Assassin in White fight, was secretly following kaladin at night. Sees him step off a ledge into a chasm (I just reread the section and was like?! You glanced over your shoulder once?!). Adolin spends the whole night stewing in regret, anger, grief, guilt (I was there. I could have yelled. Should have done something. I didn't realize...I didn't know. I didn't know anything). Next morning Kaladin is on guard duty and adolin flips his shit, suddenly remembering that the whole reason he was suspicious of this guy was because he inexplicably survived a several hundred foot drop.

14. Kaladin barely manages to hold it together just long enough to out himself as radiant right after prison. Part One, Part two

15. Kaladin does NOT hold it together after getting arrested.

16. Kaladin swears third oath early. Next few weeks involve a lot of hiding glowing bridgeman squire antics and gaslighting people about kaladin's intermittently light eyes.

17. In the initial confrontation with Szeth, Kaladin pushes a bit harder about the radiants being back, Szeth spirals a bit more, crashing realization that he isn't truthless...

17a.  Earlier radiant reveal: szeth surrenders the honor blade and then immediately collapses into the ground. Kaladin drags him and the blade upstairs. Has to reveal himself now because 1) kaladin what the fuck how and 2) the assassin is mumbling about radiants. 17b ANGST: szeth surrenders the honor blade and immediately kills himself with kaladin's weapons. Kaladin takes honorblade, collapses on way back because it's draining his stormlight, maybe messing with sylbond. When he wakes up hes injured, surrounded by lighteyes and a handful of his men...handles it badly because Very Specific Shardblade Winning Trauma. Crazy two nickles moment. Downside: cries a lot in front of people he'd rather not have cried in front of. Upside: dalinar believes him about amaram now. Public windrunner powers, but obscured Radiant reveal because glowing assassin sword is very clearly granting magic powers. Weird interactions of honorblade bond and nahel bond. Lot of interesting fallout from Dalinar having his very own Mystical Assassin now.

18. Kaladin sends Syl to spy on the 'horneater princess', one sided radiant discovery. When she sends pattern to spy on bridgeboy, he somehow notices. Shallan does not handle it well. 

19. Something something people put together all the impossible stuff Kaladin's done with all the impossible stuff the Blackthorn did as a youth, combined with one of bridge four drunkenly talking about their best theories for the Captains 'mysterious backstory,' combined with Dalinar literally calling Kaladin son and seemingly overnight the warcamps are convinced that Kaladin is Dalinar's bastard child.

20. (COLLABORATIVE with @gnecrognomicon) Instead of being thrown in prison, Elhokar orders Kaladin be strung up for the Stormfather's judgement. Part One, Part Two

21 to 30 Non Words of Radiance AUs

22. Way of kings au where the beggars of alethkar are rounded up for the war effort. Jezrian, of course, ends up on bridge four.

23. Kaladin time travel au to way of kings only the transition is a bit like a spren going through the cognitive to material realm transfer. Not all there. Heartwarming bridge four bonding slightly to the left - sure the mans crazy but he just looks so...disappointed when we dont help with the injured, and he shares his food like an idiot. How does someone seven foot tall and stronger than a chull make axehound pup eyes. We're not following him though. He's not our lead - holy heralds balls is he glowing??  Bit more of a symbol than a friend, but a symbol that you take turns holding at night because he has such bad nightmares and also hes clingy. 

24. COLLABORATIVE / stone soup with @sweetteaanddragons : adolin and kaladin time travel to way of kings. Kaldin brooding about how to escape AND save all his men AND the world until adolin barges in and buys everyone. 

'Thank the almighty,' Kaladin thought with almost painful relief, watching Adolin argue haughtily with a growing swarm of Thadeus's lighteyes. 'I never thought I'd actually appreciate having a rich friend.' He would, of course, rather die than admit this. "I had it handled," he growled, when the two finally managed to speak inconspicuously, each weaving amongst a thousand confused former bridgeman, speaking quietly with several, until they were able to meet in the middle with reasonable subtlety, all things considered. "That's great, Kal," Adolin said cheerfully, clearly not buying a word. "Say, how would you feel about doing some, you know..." He waved a hand, earning a raised eyebrow from Kaladin. "Glowy stuff for my Father," his voice dropped from a subtle hush to a slightly conspicuous whisper. "So he doesn't disinherit me. I did not have permission for this."  Both pairs of eyes flicked to the side, the Blackthorn's towering figure approaching like a Stormwall. "Uh. Sooner rather than later perhaps."

26. Oathbringer/row au. Adolin doesn’t kill sadeus. Mostly just excuse to dunk on Sadeus for trading one (1) shardblade for mythical warrior who can make his own shardblade. oh look more of your former slaves are glowing now. and THEY make shardblades too!

27. Elhokar and Kaladin time travel from Elhokar's death in oathbringer to way of kings. Part one, Part Two

27B. Elhokar solo time travels back from Oathbringer death to Way of Kings

28. Moash tells kaladin about beef with elokhar early. This derails the entire plot of the series. [EDIT, This au was previously #1, before I abruptly realized it was WOK, Not WOR]

31 to 40 Post Winds and Truth Wild Speculation

31. Szeth kaladin pity fuck time travel au words of radiance. Bridge four roasts the shit out of kaladin. Kaladin is doing everything in his power to avoid implying "knowledge of future" which makes the timeline of their relationship deeply confusing.

32. Szeth kaladin time travel au post book 5, they get their memories back in the high storm right before canon first meeting. Szeth sort of stumbles in, halfheartedly attempting a confused assassination.

33. [EDIT: Previously AU Number 9] Kaladin time travel back to wor, book 5 gone wrong. Deeply terrifying from outsider pov. Captain of the Kholin guard, bridgefour leader, is suddenly Full fourth oath windrunner talking about how humans are the voidbringers, they actually need to support the parshendi in bringing one last controlled desolation, and then kill the heralds and also god. Don't worry not our god. Different god. Our god is already dead. If someone else travels back with him then it swings around to a lil bit funny.

34. Post winds and truth, pre sunlit man, crossover with the twilight of mistborn era 2 (i think the cosmere timeline could make sense but if not, oh well). Kaladin gets a boon from his god(s). Requests to learn more about mental health. Has to go to another planet to do so, because mental health research on Roshar sucks. Scadrial's god seems (relatively) friendly and their planet has developed antidepressants AND wellness seminars. Shenanigans with Very Old Wax and the gang.

35. Jasnah, Dalinar, and Renarin (surviving Kholin Radiants) travel from End of World to right after Gavilar's death. Crack. Outline

All of the above (plus other fandoms if you keep scrolling back) will be tagged with 'my au' The above, plus my canon stormlight and other cosmere meta, technically canon compliant fanfic drabbles, or other things that i've written but don't fit in an au will be tagged 'nevertheless cosmere'

[spiceofvy]

hi I sent the octopus ask! 🐙🐙🐙

(i just discovered the octopus emoji and it's adorable)

Anyway I mean octopus/sticky as very physically clingy, like arms and legs most be around object of affection at all times (bordering on cartoon logic but might as well have fun with it no?)

Like I think being a human octopus "clingy as fuck" would be sometimes adorable and intimate but also come with a lot of challenges because sometimes it's hot, things get sweaty very fast, it would be hard to escape the bed in the morning, thank fuck for seatbelt laws because a human octopus reader would be all over the drivers lap sort of thing, basically taking physical touch is a love language and dailing it to twelve you know.

Personally I really don't care for being touched these days, (though I wished people could pet me more) so I guess I wanted to see someone work with the concept of super physical contact.

Sorry if my original ask was confusing tho. I learned the use of the word "stickiness" from a an English translation of a chinese web novel (as in clingy as sin) and had visited the aquarium recently so that muddled my use of language by a lot.

TXT - Reader is super clingy

a/n: hiii! thank you for sending an ask again! i totally get your struggle, i also muddle my words a lot especially in english ._. in your original ask you said that any group is okay, so i went with txt because i thought that this prompt would fit them super well. i hope you enjoy 🐙

cws: gender neutral reader, sfw, pure fluff

Yeonjun: The one to enjoy it the least. He just needs a lot of room to move around, he really enjoys being independent. But he will always be very kind about it, holding your hand for half an hour before letting go so you can at least get your fill on physical contact. He still returns to your koala hugs every night, because if he is honest about it, he can't sleep without your hugs anymore…

Soobin: So much teasing from his members. They love joking about how their tough leader was turned into a plushie by his significant other. But he also enjoys it, especially in a more private setting. Finally he can let go and trust that someone holds him anyway. Literally.

Beomgyu: My poor boy overheats really easily, so too much physical contact would kill him especially in the summer. So he really can't stand cuddling for too long. He loves it though in the winter and probably turns into the octopus himself and uses your body warmth

Taehyun: A bit flustered, especially in front of his bandmates. But in private he loves it. Likes to cuddle you all day and definitely clings to your back when you cook and the other way around. Sometimes just carries you around on his back when you don't feel like leaving the bed.

Kai: So happy. Such a happy boy. He is super clingy and cuddly himself, If he likes someone and so he is just over the moon to be with you. Hold his hand all day, sleep on him, sit on his lap during group activities. He doesn't care if he gets sweaty or there are weird looks. He just wants to get all the physical contact that he can.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Entertain us with some stupid Bonaparte facts plz.

Hahaha I've answered a lot of these, so there will be some repeats, and I'm not sure any of these could as stupid facts but they're all things I enjoy thinking about from time to time:

I love that he was described as having a lovely smile that could change the weather if he was turning on the charm (also his eyes were described as one of his chief charms). People also described him as having more the air of a scholar than that of a soldier.

That said, Napoleon didn't do small talk so much as a full-frontal barrage of questions which uh...isn't intimidating at all.

Napoleon liked to say he was born on a rug embroidered with an image of Caesar but Letizia apparently replied to that story with “is it not enough that he was born, but it must be upon a rug decorated with Caesar?” (or something to that effect). 

One time on St. Helena he got Barry O'Meara champagne drunk and teased the man about this lass he was in love with and was like "you're in your thirties, you need to get married!" and O'Meara was like "ummmm I've no money and am not ready" and Napoleon was like "nonsense".

In general, Napoleon loved playing matchmaker. He wasn't very good at it but he loved it anyway. He was an eighty-year old nosey, gossipy, match-scheming grandma at heart.

Napoleon enjoyed snuff but wasn't super graceful taking it so there'd be snuff powder on his suit coats sometimes. He would also fidget with the snuff boxes and regularly lost them.

Indeed, Napoleon was one of life's fidgeters. Which, coincidentally, made him difficult to shave. Constant recounts in his memoir:

[Napoleon] frequently talked, read the papers, moved round on his chair, turned suddenly, and I was obliged to use the greatest precaution to avoid wounding him. … When by chance he did not talk, he remained immovable and stiff as a statue, and one could not make him lower, raise, or bend his head, as would have been necessary in order to accomplish the task more easily. He had also one singular mania, which was to have only one side of his face lathered and shaved at a time. He would never let me pass to the other side until the first was finished.

One of Marie-Louise’s pet names for him was Nana and she would call him that in front of courtiers and Very Important People and Napoleon rolled with it. 

His favourite book was the epic poem Ossian because Napoleon liked campy over-the-top epics. Joseph would later try and claim his brother's favourite book was the Illiad (if I remember right) because Ossian was considered trash literature at the time. Like if Napoleon's favourite book was Game of Thrones and his brother is like "no, trust me, it's War and Peace. It's Real Literature~~. It's Dante's Inferno. It's anything that is More Serious. Please believe me".

He was a terrible rider, though he rode " very boldly and recklessly" (according to one of his secretaries). Napoleon loved to Go Fast - bit of an adrenaline junky I suspect. He was also known to ride for hours - the stamina was insane - and he was not easily deterred by treacherous terrain.

He was described by a cavalry officer as riding "like a butcher". Quote from Ernst von Odeleben, the cavalry officer in question:

Napoleon himself remarked at one time…that he had learned a great many things, but had never been able to make himself a complete horseman. His make was not indeed calculated for equitation. When he galloped, he sat carelessly in the saddle, generally holding the reins in his right hand, while the upper part of his body was jumbled, as the horse went on, forward, or on one side, and his left hand hung negligently down. If the horse made a false step, he immediately lost his balance. [...] As he was not a good horseman, all those who approached him mounted upon a mare were obliged to be cautious that they were not thrown out of the saddle by the capers of his horse. [...] Napoleon was passionately fond of going across the fields, without letting any person know whither he bent his course. The chasseurs of the guard were so accustomed to this habit, that by the first direction which he took, they became perfectly well acquainted with the place towards which he was going. He was so fond of bye-ways and paths, that finding himself, on several occasions, in craggy places, or impracticable roads, he was obliged to alight: it was always a disagreeable thing to him to hear of difficulties or impossibilities…and he seldom abandoned his intention til he was himself convinced of the impossibility of proceeding. 

Naturally, Napoleon did take some epic falls off his horses from time to time. This is the man who would trip and break his face if he wasn't careful.

Napoleon would sing upon occasion, though he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Songs he liked included various tunes from the opera Henri IV, also the Marseillaise, various songs from the revolution &c. One of his favourite composers was Giovanni Paisiello.

---

I shall stop there. Thank you for the ask!

[starberry-cupcake]

I've been reading, but didn't have time to sit down and do this, so you're getting a bit of a mess in this one, sorry about that!

I want to clarify, before starting, that if I ask questions to the void in these posts, or if I wonder very loudly about something, I'm not really looking for answers immediately nor am I doubting that things will be explained later, I promise I trust the process. If something's going to be explained, somewhere in the books, I'll get there eventually, I promise I will. You have probably noticed by now but, if you give me a hint, I'm gonna grab onto it for dear life, so better not give me anything at all. Just leave me here to die, I beg you.

previously, in harrowberry the ninth:

this happened

currently, chapters 17-19:

I'm gonna start by the end, actually

which maybe is fitting for this book

but I'll start by the end because I have a new theory and I feel this one in my bones

(pun intended)

I might be totally off but I'm gonna say it anyway because I'm excited about this one

so much so that you'll get no memes while I explain it

it's about G and P

yes, I know, I'm fixated with that, but hear me out

I think Lyctortus isn't actually called Ortus

I think his name is Gideon

let me explain

at the end of chapter 19 (I'll get there, but I need this off my chest, I really do) harrow asks mercygirl why ortus the first wants her dead

to which mercygirl distractedly answers "who?"

that's the last thing I read so far, but it got my wheels turning so fast I came running to write it down

I thought "wait, what if, just like ortus is replacing gideon in the gideon-less re-telling, the name is also a replacement?"

so I went to the character list and lyctortus's cavalier was called pyrrha

so what if they're G and P

Gideon and Pyrrha the Second

and what if the Gideon in the paper was this guy

so this is not a case of Ortus 1 and 2 but of Gideon 1 and 2

not!dulcinea told our gideon "you're very brave—a bit like another Gideon I used to know. But you're prettier in the eyes"

which is, all things considered, actually funny, because it's a reversal of what mercygirl was saying, that yandere twin and harrow aren't as pretty as their predecessors

I'm gonna risk looking like a fool later and calling this now because I really feel this one

again, let me clarify, I'm not asking you to tell me whether I'm right or wrong or anything at all, I'm just placing my bets with myself

and I know starting by the end isn't really the best way to go about a recap, but I think I'm on to something

MOVING BACK, to chapter 17

harrow starts looking into mercygirl for her new and probably not improved diary, because she knows less things now

augustine the saint of annoyance tells harrow that mercygirl and him are the oldest lyctors in the band and that it took generations for these space planet destroyers to assemble

emperor john silver tells harrow that his stupid nicknames that don't fit were meant to represent the cavaliers and not the necros

of course augustine's brother was patient, he had to put up with augustine

mercygirl is also a body expert

an anatomist, if you will

which will come in handy later/earlier (later in the reading order, earlier in the timeline order)

augustine says that he didn't bother learning that because the only use for it would be to kill lyctors

tbh it'd come in handy right now that I want to kill him, but I digress

here, harrow again mentions that ortus the first (also known as lyctortus, also known as allegedly gideon the first, also known as I'm super super sure of this you guys) wants her dead

CHAPTER 18

we're back on canaan house in the gideon-less version

these are the chapters I'm having the most fun with, which wasn't what I expected

I don't know why, I really like this whole re-written mystery thing

the slasher film vibes have doubled this time

I keep drawing parallels and enjoying my time with these old and new friends

and, talking about old and new friends, judith is dead

remember judith? remember how she died?

it wasn't like this

in this gideon-less version, instead of becoming besties with the sixth, harrow and ortus have become besties with the fifth

because 1) the fifth didn't die and 2) the fifth is in a polycule with ortus

with gideon there, they befriended the sixth because gideon saw camilla fight 5 seconds and was like "she's friend shaped :)"

so, the fifth and the ninth are taking care of judith's corpse

she was shot repeatedly with a carbine rifle

harrow says "it would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time"

gonna put that in the 3d model

martita is outside and she's the only pseudo witness to this situation

the gideon-less version of the deaths so far is being handled like this

martita says to harrowbean "why am I here?"

she explains that they were doing the two door test thingy and, while she was in the other room, judith was shot

now, here's the thing

I thought the Sleeper that had been mentioned was the construct thing but no, it's not

it's a new thing

I'm picturing sorta this

it very well could be a person though

it's person shaped

huh

it's in a coffin where it sleeps unless it's woken up, but they don't know how it wakes up, because martita went to town kicking and punching the coffin after judith was obliterated and nothing happened

and what keeps it contained, snow white style, isn't plex glass, plex or glass

ortus proceeds to say a eulogy

martita says "Is this really how it happens?" like we've been hearing all this time

harrowbean tries to make her feel better by telling her that, at least judith died quickly

mmm...about that

martita says "No. That's not...Don't know why I thought...No."

martita doesn't know judith died slowly and painfully and wrong about everything btw, she died first, it memory serves

but still, savage

harrow regrets not telling ortus to take the pledge of silence and says "but only a very obedient idiot of a cavalier would have stuck to that"

she's your obedient idiot, though, harrow

so, the rundown is this:

the sleeper can move

the sleeper can pass necromantic wards

the sleeper shouldn't be waken

people don't know what wakes it

it has a rifle

the sleeper is lying on top of sword that's a two-hander

me, having breakfast while reading this

I didn't mention this but

harrow and abby say that judith was killed by a deadly shot and then was subsequently used for target practice and left like a colander without any reason for it

judith disrespected camilla, so

that's what you get, bitch

CHAPTER 19

we travel in time, but in the timeline of the emperor's bolthole

because WHY NOT, AT THIS POINT

we're keeping track anyway *picks back up the timeline I keep discarding and re-using*

this one is 10 months before the emperor johnny boy is ended, so this is before what we've been reading

we are told the following essential info:

harrow has written a letter for yandere twin in case of harrow's death that says: "Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch"

filed under potential resignation letter drafts

apparently a lyctor can live without food but not without water

so harrowcita is getting herself a sopita

and then lyctortus also known as I'm sure he's gideon the first stabs her

this tiny baby kitten with her sopita

man has no heart

no decency

no decorum

not his real name, according to me

mercygirl helps harrow with a lot of skill (those anatomy skills we talked about) but not much empathy

she tells alleged gideon who goes by ortus, when he says "I do things face-to-face" that "that is what got you into trouble nineteen years ago"

HELLO TIMELINE

nineteen years ago takes us back to the whole leader of the BOE going missing and gideon's mom drifting into space and the person sent with the eggs and all that

well, the eggs thing isn't directly related yet but I'm relating it

especially since there were lies involved and somebody sent to placate another somebody

DUDE CAN YOU IMAGINE

IF HE WAS INVOLVED WITH GIDEON'S MOM IN SOME WAY

AND OUR GIDEON IS NAMED AFTER THIS GIDEON????

LIKE ON PURPOSE????

HELLO?????????

AGAIN, NOBODY TELL ME, I'M ASKING AT THE VOID

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE IMPULSE OF TELLING ME BUT DON'T DO IT

I'm making up telenovela theories about how this gideon could be involved into our gideon's mom business and our gideon being named after him

and gideon's superpowers of being hercules having something to do with all this

I need to stop before I say too much and then feel embarrassed at my theories

ALSO

gideon ortus wants harrow's sword

harrowbean doesn't want to give it to him

it is at this point when mercygirl says "who?" at harrow's question about "ortus", so we end how we begun, because today it's that kind of day

also, another day without her coming home

I may be late but boy do I have theories. And yeah, nobody tell me any spoilers, please. Let me make a fool of myself.

[szollibisz]

Do you have any hcs abt how Curt and Owen "came out" to one another? (Using the term loosely cuz obviously they can't just be like "IM GAY") And also how they got together (who fell first etc etc)

Ok, so to preface this, my favourite thing about curtwen is just how many ways you can interpret their pre-canon relationship.

I try to keep their story relatively loose in my head, save for a few headcanons I very strongly believe in, because it's more fun this way.

For me, the #1 headcanon that's in all the iterations I think of, is that they hated each other at first. I think their personalities clash way too much for them to be all buddy-buddy on the first day. (Physical attraction? maybe. Was it minuscule compared to their irritation with each other? yes.)

I just think it's interesting how the two of them gradually (and begrudgingly) start to care about each other.

I think their "friendship stage" is one of my favourite parts about the whole thing. Now I refuse to believe either of those men have friends. Maybe coworkers and acquaintances, but not friends. Which is why this stage lasts so little.

As their work their way up to care for and respect each other, both of them go a little crazy about it.

It's the first time in years or even decades they felt genuine affection and maybe even trust, and both of them are extremely starved for it. So it really doesn't take much for them to fall for each other. (especially since the aforementioned physical attraction was always there and only getting stronger as they learned to tolerate each other)

I imagine, because of this, Owen was the one who fell first, and he employed his usual tactic for dealing with unwanted feelings: Being an ass and depriving himself of good things. He got more intense about his work, trying to immerse himself in it, so he'll stop thinking about Curt. He stayed up late, didn't even try to take it easy when he had a migraine, drank shit coffee and other great things.

It technically worked. He looked like shit, which in turn made Curt worried, and if Owen completely invalidated his worries the two of them would get into a fight, be mad at each other and not interact so much. Owen thought this would make him not yearn for Curt so bad (he still did, in fact, yearn for him that bad)

When Curt realized he was in love with Owen he was pretty horrified. Like listen. If someone has commitment issues it's Curt. Maybe he had a boyfriend or two during his teenage years/twenties, but they didn't end well, and since then he's been trying to keep everybody at arms length. He convinced himself Owen wasn't so bad because hey. They were just buddies (and Curt desperately needed a buddy.)

He tried to shove down and ignore his feelings, but moaning your friend's name while banging another guy may just be a little more than what you can avoid.

He never understood why Owen turned so cold suddenly, and he was terrified Owen just didn't like or trust him anymore. In turn he was also mad at him for trying to shut him out.

Their little hate renaissance could only last so long though. They were still each other's only friends and no matter what they did they kept being drawn back to each other.

This was a super long preface but. I am not normal about those two.

So. different scenarios and headcanons and whatnot

1. Either one of them somehow discovers the other is gay. This would probably mean Owen finding out about Curt, because, I wholeheartedly believe that man would leave during a mission sometimes just to get a quick fuck in. Maybe Owen finds out with evidence (fast & easy method) or he just starts strongly suspecting with his great spying and deduction skills (slow & torturous method, he'd try to convince himself he's just seeing what he wants to see) either way, the confrontation would be very uncomfortable for both of them. Curt would deny it ofc, and Owen would go through the internal battle of "tell him it's fine, you won't rat him out, but be a little homophobic about it, so maybe you can keep the only friend you have, but also be ok with the fact that he'll always be with other men and never you" or "tell him you're gay too, maybe he likes you, maybe not, and potentially risk losing your job and livelihood and everything you've ever worked for" He'd most likely end up doing the latter, surprising both Curt and himself. (He's already way more into Curt than he admits to himself) And things escalate from there.

2. Dramatic post mission (maybe a "I thought I'd never see you again" moment) This is where their friendship gets really interesting to me. For a scenario like this the months long yearning is a given, maybe even a lot of unresolved tension between the two (which would probably be resolved with violence anyways) They care very deeply about each other by now. They know each other better than anyone, and their idyllic relationship is only made into a living hell by all the pining. At this point I mean, they'd buy each other birthday gifts, go over to the other's house when they were in the same country and share way too much info over drinks. Their job is always dangerous, but even they can get scared. Maybe we're talking being crazy outnumbered, or a torture/hostage situations, or hell even a collapsing building. Point is, id either one of them thought the other (or both of them) may die, at this point they'd be impulsive enough to just say I love you or kiss the other. In the moment neither of them would care, and later on, when you'd normally talk about things like near death makeout sessions, they'd just. not. do that, because communication is for guys with better life prospects. This one has absolutely no coming-out talk in it, simply because they don't need it

3. Possibly drunk hookup Now clearly, we are talking about two of the most down bad men ever. This is one scenario, I think could also work really well when they still really hated each other. Maybe throughout their first few mission they both gathered enough evidence and sussed each other out, and after (yet another) explosive fight they might just. Alleviate the tension by not beating each other up but by. other means. They don't end up talking much about it, but it keeps happening, and wait maybe they don't even hate each other all that much. (This is the more sober option) The other one is where the "possibly drunk" comes in. If they've been friends for a while, they probably got used to working around each other and finding comfort in the other's presence. This includes little habits, inside jokes, and even (very small) physical touches. This probably wouldn't go down during a mission, it's more likely to happen at either Curt's or Owen's house, maybe during some holiday. Both of them realizing it's a pretty bad idea early on, because, without all the stress of the missions and navigating a foreign country all that's left is them and the feelings they have for each other. Owen would probably say no to drinks for the first few times, just to avoid a potentially dangerous situation, but Curt would wear him down eventually. Now, with both of them drunk and comfortable, it wouldn't take much for things to escalate. Maybe Curt forgets to take his hand off of Owen after patting him on the back, or Owen holds Curt gaze for a little too long. Either way, those two end up fucking. The next day both of them are a little horrified, but they manage to come clean about their feelings (even if it's in the most backwards and convoluted way possible)

Happy ending (or not) There's many more ways it could've happened, but I already wrote wayyyy too much I think.

In the end I don't think they'd ever have a proper conversation about homosexuality, even way into their relationship. It's something they slowly pick up on from each other. How ashamed are they, what makes them tick, what you shouldn't say etc. And then of course, since they don't communicate properly and sometimes purposefully hurt each other, they'd throw it all back in the other's face.

I'm not sure this is what you meant when you asked for hcs, but I got carried away.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

I don't know if this is something you'll be able to answer, but it's something I've been wondering for decades and I think you have the knowledge necessary for it.

So I used to ride horses for around 10 years, and when I first started to ride when I was around 8, when a horse was being super stuborn and didn't want to move. The riding instructor said it was okay to kick the horses as hard as I could (while I was sitting in the saddle) to get them moving, that they would bearly feel it cause they were so big, and their skin was thicker than ours.

And as a kid I trusted the adult instructor, but as I got older, and the more I interacted with horses and learnt how sensitive they could be to touch, I started to wonder if that was really okay, or if the only reason the horses seemed chill about it was cause they were used to it or something?

oh I just remembered a second thing I was wondering about, that same ranch also had a super old horse, I think he was in his 30s when I stopped going, was allowed to just wander around the ranch once he was retired, which I always sorta wondered if that was okay you know? he never seemed interested in leaving the ranch even tho there was nothing stopping him, and the part where cars could go was extremely small and they never went that fast anyways so I don't see why it'd be a bad thing, but I just couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't okay you know?

(I know these questions aren't about marine animals or even zoo animals, but I hope its okay for me to ask anyways, feel free to ignore if you want obvs)

Hi there! I don't mind horse questions - I used to work with them a lot and used to have my own horse!

I understand that feeling so well - there were so many times where I felt pressured to use excessive force with horses. Even with my own horse, because I was at the mercy of people who I thought knew best.

That's why I left the horse industry to work in the zoo and marine mammal field - so I could learn how to correctly, effectively and ethically apply positive reinforcement based training methods.

The last time I had a riding lesson was about a year ago. I wanted to give it a try again because I missed horses and it had been going fine. But the last time I was there, I left in tears because they put me on a horse that seriously needed to be retrained from the ground - and not be a lesson horse because he clearly hated it. I was not about to bully the horse into submission for the sake of getting my money's worth. I refused to "ride through" this horse's learned behaviour of stopping at arena corners and running my leg into the side of the arena. He wasn't listening to leg aids or rein aids. People had been riding him so inconsistently that he didn't even know what those signals meant anymore.

That's when people often will get out the whips and spurs to escalate those "aids". Because if all you're using is negative reinforcement/positive punishment and the aversive isn't working, you have to make that aversive even more uncomfortable/painful and "make them do it!". That's where things start to get really nasty, that's when conflict behaviours come up like rearing, bucking, bolting.

This animal was stressed, I was frustrated. He wasn't in a state to learn, he needed a break. He needed a chance to relearn those skills and be taught how to enjoy being ridden again. I refused to get into a fight with this horse. That isn't how I train and it won't be how I ride, either.

But horse riding is so heavily aversive based that escalation of aversives is just standard practise in riding schools.

When you were asked to kick harder, you were being asked to escalate the pressure for a horse that probably had become desensitised to softer leg aids. Lesson horses put up with so much incosistency, it makes sense that they get so "dull" to the aids.

There's also the issue of learned helplessness. When animals (and people) are put in a situation that they can't escape from, they give up trying to do so. They just sort of... tune everything out and become dull to any sort of learning process. It's sad because a lot of horses that people say are "bombproof" are just in a state of learned helplessness.

Horses absolutely do feel those kicks and they do not actually have "thick skin". They have thinner skin and even more nerve endings in their skin than we do!

The escalating use of force for "stubborn" horses is a symptom of an outdated industry that's still stuck in eltist tradition and would rather put a piece of twisted wire into a horse's mouth and spurs on rider's boots than re-teach skills from the ground or use positive reinforcement (treats are so taboo with horse people - they way they react, you'd think you'd brought a weapon into the yard and not a bag of carrots lol)

As for the wandering around? It's not ideal, sure. There's a certain amount of complacency in just expecting a free roaming animal not to leave the area. I guess as long as they're not standing in traffic/being a hazard/getting hurt it's okay but definitely not how I would be keeping my animals.

Anyway that was kind of long winded but I hope that helped!

[xmads-omensx]

CHAPTER 1 - SOAKED IN THE NEON GLOW

Content warnings: Violence, Swearing, angst, death, blood, weapons, enemies to lovers, alcohol Word Count: 5802

VANIA

The rain pattered on the ground surrounding me as I stood outside the warehouse before me. Karius always gave me the jobs that no one else wanted. I had nothing to lose. He knew that. And I can see why no one wanted to take on this job. Getting into the warehouse had been no small feat. ERRA, one of the biggest organisations here, owned the building and it was extremely evident by the sheer amount of security they had invested in.

Luckily for me, my savings came in handy when the Underground had gotten in some new Optics that I immediately got installed. My eyesight was now phenomenal and spotting ERRA’s men positioned out of view was as easy as seeing them in broad daylight.

By some insane stroke of luck, I got into the back office with little to no trouble and stole the chip Karius was paying me to grab for him. I learned the hard way not to ask questions. And trust me, I wish I had never asked questions in the first place. Questions get you killed in this line of work.

I like to work quietly. In and out. No funny business. I only kill when I have to. The less mess the better as it is harder to trace back to you. Something OMNS doesn’t quite grasp. OMNS is a crew who have been running for as long as I can remember. There are four of them. Folio was their scout, always riding ahead on his bike with his x-ray optic upgrades to… well… scout, kinda a giveaway if you ask me. Jolly was the muscle. He was upgraded to an extent I wouldn’t even be able to handle even in my wildest dreams. Nick was the crew leader’s right hand. He was the brains. Rumour was that he was a crazy good netrunner and could hack anything from over a mile away. That leaves Noah. The leader. The fucker was even more upgraded than Jolly was. Nobody knew anything about that crazy son of a bitch except from the fact that he is the most ruthless and cold fucker to ever step foot in the Concrete Jungle.

Those four men have been making my life in this line of work literal hell for years. It started when the leader of my old crew stole a job from them and ever since they have been taking it out on all of us. However, when my crew got killed a few months back, OMNS focused their rage onto me. It started with them stealing jobs from me. Then evolved into implicating me on their shitty work. As if I would ever leave that many bodies lying around. God. Men are so messy.

The rain washed away all of my fatigue and the cold reminded me that I still needed to get the chip to Karius before I got caught. I hopped on my motorbike, pulled my black and pink hair into my helmet and began my journey to meet K.

Poppy’s was a popular location for crews from all over the Concrete Jungle to meet and relax after jobs. The neon lights that illuminated the place reflected off of the puddles on the concrete ground as other crews mingled about the place. Most of them usually hung out in the parking lot outside to show off their upgrades, but due to the rain everyone had migrated inside.

The barstools are all occupied along with the booths lining the walls. The stage in the middle of the room was occupied by a cyborg woman dancing to the music blaring throughout the building. My eyes danced around the room looking for a familiar blonde-haired man so I could get in and out of here as quickly as possible.

Karius was a tall, well-built man in a grey suit. He looked out of place being in a bar like Poppy’s, full of low-life criminal crews and other people who had been forced out of the more legal side of life. The only thing that made K somewhat fit in were the projectile launcher upgrades he had fitted into his tree-trunk like forearms.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Karius called. Not even looking up from the shitty whiskey he had been drinking.

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly going to be super fucking fast if you send me out on a job like that are you?” I snapped back at him.

His broad shoulders shuddered as he chuckled at my bitchy tone. K and I had always had a decent employer-employee relationship. Neither of us had any reason to stab each other in the back. The dynamic wasn’t close or personal by any means but we was the closest thing I had to a friend.

“You know, V, these jobs would be a hell of a lot easier if you just joined a crew.” Karius argued. He had been pushing for me to join another crew pretty much since my last one fell apart. But he just saw credits, not people. I guess that’s what helped keep that wall up between the two of us.

“Yeah, well, we both know that will never happen.” I replied with a sigh, “Now do you want your precious chip or not K? I got places to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Here… your payment that we agreed and a tip for your troubles.” Karius replied, taking the chip out of my hand.

I made to leave Poppy’s and head home so I could get some much needed rest when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. I whipped around, preparing to engage my Mantis blades, when I realised that it was Karius who had grabbed me. I relaxed upon realising that he wasn’t a threat. You never know in these parts of the Concrete Jungle.

“One more thing V.” He said with a smirk on his face as he led me back towards where he was sat at the bar, “I have another job to discuss with you. Let’s just say it’s a matter of… urgency.” The smirk on his stupid face told me everything that I needed to know. This job would be dangerous. Ridiculously dangerous.

“ERRA have doubled their security and I need something else from them. I can’t go in and get it as that would be too obvious. And besides, I’m only the middle-man. It’s my boss who really wants this. You understand right, V?” Fuck. Another ERRA job. Karius still wore his signature smirk on his face.

“Are you  trying to fucking kill me asshole?” I sighed back at him dejectedly. Alreadyaccepting that I probably won’t be seeing my bed tonight.

“Now why would I kill my best runner?” K laughed back at me. “I would never make any credits then would I? And besides, by boss would have my fucking head V.”

“Fair point.” I replied

“Okay. ERRA’s leader, Jesse, owns that skyscraper off of Coyote Park right? The red one? Tomato colour? He has an office on the second top floor. I need access. But the only way to get into the office is through a three part authentication process. Part 1: the warehouse. You did that part. Check. Part 2: ERRA also owns Electric Twilight. You know, that super exclusive club? If you get the chip, looks exactly like the one you got for me tonight, from the main office on the top floor of the building, then we are one step closer. Now, onto part 3: You will need to find a way into the basement below ERRA’s secondary base. Now security will be tight. But those new optic upgrades you’re sporting should help you. They look good by the way. In the basement there should be a safe. That is where the final chip is. Get all three of those and you should be good to get into their skyscraper.” Karius explained.

“Okay, sounds simple enough. You know, if you ignore that ERRA is the biggest fucking crew in the Concrete Jungle you fucking ass! Do you want me dead!” I replied, full of anger.

“Well luckily for you, it won’t just be your ass on the line. I have arranged back up for you this time.” Karius replied. His smirk not faltering for a second as he laughed at my outburst.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“You will be working  with a crew”

“No!”

“V please.” Karius pleaded, “You need the backup for this. And I really fucking need to get into that goddamn skyscraper.”

“Karius. I work alone. You know this. Especially after last time.” I explained through gritted teeth.

“And why might that be?” A new voice entered the conversation.

I turned around and behind me stood the tallest man I had ever seen up close. Noah. Fuck. I would quite literally rather die than work with this man. His dark brown eyes glared craters into my own as he smirked smugly down at me. He knew something that I was not yet privy to. Double fuck. I refused to be caught unawares by the man who had been making my life hell for the past five months.

 Noah wasn’t exactly unattractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive guy I’ve seen in the Concrete Jungle. His huge, muscular frame was covered in beautiful tattoos. His cyberware was top of the line, which was rare in this line of work, and looked fucking killer. He could kill everyone inside of Poppy’s right then if he really wanted to. His eyes were the deepest brown I had ever seen. His dark hair framed his face effortlessly. He was gorgeous. I hated him even more for it.

Karius greeted Noah with a belly laugh, which was most definitely at my expense considering how both men towered over me. I was absolutely fucked.

“Noah. This is Vania.” K began, “Vania, this is Noah. He is the leader of OMNS. That crew who ran the Kingdom of Cards job oh so very smoothly about two months back. Ring a bell?”

It most definitely did ring a bell. I was supposed to do that job. Me. Not OMNS. Me. Asshole.

I rolled my eyes in response to Karius, whilst Noah chuckled at me. Fucker.

“You will be working together on this ERRA job. And V, before you start complaining, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You will work alongside them in order to get this job done.”

“Then why doesn’t OMNS just do the ERRA job and you give me something else?” I scoffed in reply.

“Because, V, OMNS need someone with your skillset. They don’t have anyone as quiet as you. And we both know those Lynx Paws were not cheap in the Underground so you may as well use them to get your credit’s worth.” Karius explained with an exasperated sigh. “And besides, we both know why you need this V.”

Fuck. There was no way in hell that K was seriously blackmailing me. Especially not in front of Noah. Right?

“As much as it pains me to say, Vania, we can’t exactly do this job without someone like you.” Noah offered. Clearly reluctant to compliment me.

“What the fuck is in it for me then?” I pushed. Needing something to convince me to actually go through with this.

“One million credits, V.” Karius stated.

Yeah, that would convince me.

“Fine. But we do this my way. Or we don’t do this at all.” I argued back. Refusing to give in and make myself look like I would just roll over for credits.

“Not gonna happen princess.” Noah barked back.

Asshole.

“Why the fuck not? You said it yourself hotshot. You. Need. Me” I snapped back. Punctuating my words with a sharp poke to his hard, muscular chest.

“Get fucked princess. You work for me now.”

“No. I don’t. We work together now. Don’t get all patriarchal just because you’re the leader of your crew. I bow to nobody.” I angrily replied, “And stop calling me princess cocksucker.”

“In your dreams princess.” Noah snarkily replied. “Sure. Try and get us to play by your rules. The others won’t agree to that. They won’t roll over to a short-ass dictator rolling in and fucking things up.”

“Fine. We work together. But don’t think I like this asshat. I’m only doing this because I need the credits.” I gave in.

“Brilliant! Here is your contract. You will be paid a small portion of the one million each following each part of the mission. That way we don’t lose any money if you guys short circuit while you’re on the job.” Karius beamed.

Both Noah and I signed the contract next to our names at the bottom of the paper. Suddenly, I was aware of five other men standing behind us. Turning around, I realised that these were the other members of OMNS. I recognised three of them as being Folio, Jolly and Nick, but the other two I had never seen before. Both had long hair, one must longer than the other, and wore what looked to be baseball caps on their heads. They must be new to OMNS I thought to myself.

I had never been this close to them before. All six men were absolutely beautiful. The world is so cruel. God I hated insufferably attractive men. They all had tattoos covering their bodies, but Noah very clearly had the most. His throat tattoo always prominent against his pale skin.

The shortest man, Folio, I now came to realise has new optics fitted. One remained as his green x-ray upgrade, but the other now glowed a vibrant blue colour. Holy shit. He had somehow managed to get his filthy hands on a tracker upgrade. Holy fuck. Now he can see people through walls and lay a target on them so he, and the others, can easily kill them. Fucking asshole. The amount of people he would have had to kill for that implant would have been insane.

A man with a goatee and long brown hair stood next to him. Jolly was significantly taller than Folio, but did not stand quite as tall as Noah did. Jolly was muscular too, but this was largely because of the sheer amount of upgrades he had put into his body. It looked like he had spent his credits on body-mod upgrades focusing on force and strength as opposed to Folio’s more techy upgrades. Jolly was practically impenetrable with his implants making him  bulletproof all over, except for his head. Those implants were risky. Anything impacting your nervous system was bound to make you go full cyberpsycho. The leader of my old crew fucked with a gnarly sandevistan implant but it… well..

The third man was smaller. He blended in seamlessly with the scene around him. Nick was rumoured to be one of the best netrunners in the Concrete Jungle. He could hack anything. His eyes glowed a soft purple hue  due to his optic upgrades. They looked fucking sick. His long, dark hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of his head, letting his amazing bone-structure be on full display. He wore a long, black trench coat that made him blend into the darkness around him perfectly.

The men didn’t bother to introduce themselves to me as they signed the contract. After signing, they all made their way to a booth in the back where they must have been sitting. Noah stayed behind with myself and Karius. Presumably to gloat or something. I snuck a glance at the tattoos that covered his muscular arms. His black tank top hid the tattoos on his chest and back.

“Like what you see princess?” Noah laughed.

“huh?” I spluttered out.

“So you weren’t just staring at my arms?” Noah mocked sarcastically.

“Of course not asshole.” I barked back

“Sure. I believe you.” Noah said with a smirk across his face. His stupidly attractive face.

“Well I see this is off to a great start.” Karius sighed as he got up to leave Poppy’s. “Oh and V! You will be staying with the OMNS guys until this job is done. Just to ensure neither of you steal this job from each other.”

Pure outrage coursed through my veins as the realisation of what K just announced pounded in my brain.

“Fucking excuse me?” I screamed.

“You heard me V. I know what you’re like.” Karius called back over his shoulder as he walked through the front door of Poppy’s.

I face-planted onto the bar and wrapped my arms over my face. The last thing I wanted was to be in close quarters with these men. Especially Noah. My lifestyle revolved around me being alone. That’s how I work. No attachments. They only hurt you. I found that out the hard way. If I stay with the OMNS crew for the entire job, then that would be for  months. I would probably lose my apartment and have nowhere to go. Fucking Karius.

“Come and meet the guys princess.” Noah commanded once Karius had left.

“Fine.” I mumbled. I was really getting sick of him calling me that. But then why did I feel all warm inside when he said it?

Walking over to the table in the corner, I began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. I was the only girl here in a group full of some of the most dangerous men in the Concrete Jungle. Was this really a good idea? Probably not.

They all spoke quietly to each other. No doubt complaining about having to work with me.  As Noah and I approached the table, the conversation stopped as Folio and one of the guys I didn’t recognise shuffled up the bench to make room for Noah to sit. On the other side Jolly, Nick and the other unnamed man shuffled and made room for me. At least they were considerate enough to do that for me.

“Guys this is Vania. As you know, she used to run with Davis’s crew. She will be running with us on this job.” Noah introduced.

A chorus of “hey” and “Hi” echoed around the dark booth.

“Jolly, Nick, Folio and myself you already know. But you haven’t met Matt and Bryan yet.” Noah gestured to the two unnamed men. “Bryan is our wheels and Matt is in charge of seeing how logistical and plausible plans are to execute.” The two men raised their hands in a wave to me. I weakly smiled back. I wasn’t about to make friends with these people.

It turned out that the rest of the OMNS crew were actually tolerable and that it was just Noah who was a colossal pain in my ass. We all talked for about an hour, retelling stories from other jobs we had worked on, but that just became a pissing contest between myself and Noah as we continually tried to outdo each other, recounting jobs we had stolen from each other. I was starting to grow tired of his bullshit and wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and go to sleep in my bed.

“So what’s the plan then?” I asked. “Do you assholes have a secret lair somewhere that you’re going to take me to after you’ve kidnapped me?”

“Look, I get that you don’t want to work with us, but you don’t gave to be a bitch about it.” Noah sighed.

“I just want to get this over with so I can get my credits and move on.” I snapped in reply.

“And so do we. It’s not like we exactly want to hang with you.” Noah basically shouted back.

“I see that manners aren’t something you get taught on the pig farm? Is that right, pig?” I barked.

“Doubt you would know since a princess like you never wants to get her hands dirty.” He smirked. God he was cocky.

“You wouldn’t know how to do a job discreetly even if it was worth a trillion credits asshat. You make too much mess.” I chuckled back.

“What because I like to make sure a job is done right and there are no witnesses left? Because I’m thorough with my work?” He fought.

“No because you like to leave a trail so people fear you. It’s pathetic.” I laughed.

“You’re inability to work with other people is pathetic princess.” Noah stated simply.

He knew he struck a nerve. He always knew when he struck a nerve. Yet he always pushed it. Luckily I didn’t have enough time to launch myself over the table to claw his eyes out like I really fucking wanted to as Nick intervened, “Alright guys. Lets motor.”

“Alright guys. Lets motor.” Nick intervened.

“Agreed.” Noah bluntly stated without breaking eye contact with me.

The walk to the cars outside was silent as everyone got into their respective vehicles. Folio rode a bike similar to mine. But whilst mine was pink and black, his was completely black in colour with red LEDs on the sides. Pretty sick to be honest. Jolly rode in a large black SUV with blackout windows that appeared to be bullet proof. Nick rode with Matt and Bryan in a large metal-framed armoured SUV that looked similar to Jolly’s but had clearly been modified. Noah’s car was much more understated. He opened the door to a low black car with tinted windows. It was very sleek and almost flat looking. God he was so annoyingly flashy.

I trailed behind the others on the way to their base. The neon glow of the Concrete Jungle embraced me with opened arms as it sat below the star-filled night sky. The skyscrapers belonging to suit corporations painted the skyline in a halo of varying colours as each fought for your attention. This was always my favourite parts of jobs. The silent ride home. The quiet. The peace. It was the only time I was ever separated from the crime-filled life I lead.

Right in the centre of all the chaos in the Concrete Jungle stood a tomato red skyscraper that belonged to ERRA. They were absolutely untouchable here. They were the fucking kings. The red glow always held your stare. It felt like the building itself was watching you. ERRA had that kind of effect on people. You always feel watched while they are around.

This neon landscape has been my home my whole life. I don’t remember a life without knowing the inner-workings of this place inside and out. My dad had never been around and my mother died about seven years ago in an accident. The circumstances surrounding her death had always been suspicious, but I never questioned it. It wasn’t like she was ever a good mother to me. Shortly after that I met Davis, a fellow orphan who was also struggling to pay rent. From there we met Lana and Steven and they welcomed us with open arms into their crew and the rest was history.

Now I ride solo.

A loud bang echoed over the sound of the traffic around us. The armoured car Nick, Matt and Bryan were in veered off course and into the next lane as it looked like they were trying to swerve out of the way of something. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the night.

Noah, Jolly and Folio all pulled in behind the armoured car so I followed suit. A large grey truck with ERRA painted along its side in their trademark tomato red colour, was coming straight towards us with a man in a helmet hanging out of the window shooting at us from his weaponed arm implants.  

Noah got out from the passenger side of his car with a large assault rifle and began opening fire on the oncoming vehicle. The rest of OMNS followed his lead. I, however, didn’t have my gun on me so I wouldn’t be much use to them. Instead I got back on my bike and rode past them, planning on assessing the threat from a further distance and hopefully finding a weak spot.

“Where the fuck are you going!” Noah called out after me. But I ignored him. I wasn’t used to have to explain myself mid-combat.

The truck had stopped opposite the parked convoy, about thirty feet between both crews, and three men had exited the truck and were all firing at the OMNS guys. A hatch opened up on the roof and a turret was raised. Gunfire rained down all around me as I tried my best to dodge other cars and bullets.

Screams and yells from other cars both directed at me and the carnage happening further back echoed in the chaos. Bullets whizzed through the air after me. Some hitting the other people in cars and some lodging into the road beneath me.

“Fuck!” Matt exclaimed as he and Bryan lowered themselves back into the armoured car.

Nick was sat in the back of the armoured car trying desperately to hack into the turret to disable it, but was appearing to have no luck. This didn’t surprise me as ERRA had recently upgraded all of their security measures. I had found that out the hard way earlier in the night as a mine nearly blew me to shreds when I was sneaking into the back of the warehouse.

Fuck, I thought to myself, meant that they knew that I had broken into the warehouse and stole the chip. So I was basically fucked.

Jolly disappeared back into his SUV for a second but reappeared with a massive shotgun attached to his arm and had started firing at the men operating the turret, successfully taking out two of them, leaving only one on the turret and three remaining on the ground, as well as the driver and the man in the passenger seat.

I dismounted my bike and ran round the back of the truck. Using my Lynx Paws upgrade, I easily jumped up onto the roof of the truck without making a sound. I swiftly engaged my mantis blades and took out the final man operating the turret with a quick slash. He crumbled to his knees as blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. His bottom half fell to the floor below the truck as his top half remained on the roof next to the now unused turret.

Meanwhile, Noah had taken out two of the men on the ground and Jolly had made quick work of the  third man.

The man in the passenger side would be more difficult to take out. And besides, he had noticed my presence on the roof when half of his crewmate’s body fell to the ground and had started firing up into the roof. This however, left him undefended on his side and allowed me to swing down and slash open his throat. The driver made to grab me, when suddenly, a gunshot rang out as he slumped forward. Blood trickled from a bullet hole in his forehead.

Silence fell over the group as we surveyed the damage surrounding us.

Three innocent bystanders had been killed in the gunfire. Blood coated the road. Following the trail with my eyes, I noticed that there was a puddle of blood below Folio’s bike but no sign of Folio. Fuck. If he had been killed it would be my fault. This job was going to be absolute hell.

I ran over to his bike and saw that he was knelt on the ground clutching his side and taking short and rapid breaths. He had been hit but wasn’t dead… yet. Thank fuck.

“Let me see.” I stated, touching his shaking shoulder gently.

“Fuck you.” She spat shakily.

“Folio, let me help.” I pleaded.

He cautiously moved his hand and blood trickled to the floor. It looked like the bullet was still inside.

“I can help him if we get him to your hideout quickly.” I gushed to Noah who was looking at me with eyes filled with utter hatred.

“you won’t lay a damn finger on him.” He snarled.

“Do you want him to die, Noah?” I challenged. “Because if I don’t help him, he will die. And I can guarantee that it will be very slow and very painful.”

A pause.

“Or I can guarantee you that he will live happily ever after and will get to see another day if you let me help him.” I attempted to persuade him with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine but we need to load his bike into Matt and Bryan’s car or  Folio will never forgive us if we leave it here.” Noah caved with an exasperated sigh.

Upon arriving at the OMNS hideout, a large steel screen door opened to let the seven of us into the building. It wasn’t anything special. It looked like a car garage that was attached to a tattoo shop. It wasn’t where I pictured OMNS operating out of. I’d always thought of it as more similar to ERRA’s layout. I should have known OMNS wasn’t the skyscraper type seeing as they already had two of them in their crew in the forms of Jolly and Noah.

The garage was large. They easily had enough space for their own vehicles and about five others. Drawers and shelves lined each of the walls, which were all painted a deep purple colour. The neon lights that illuminated the room cast a blue hue over everything.

Matt and Bryan hauled Folio out of the back of the armoured car as Jolly cleared off one of the workbenches to use as a makeshift bed for him. Noah stomped straight through the smaller door in the right hand wall, slamming it behind him, as soon as he got out of his car. Asshole.

Nick followed after him after muttering something to the rest of OMNS quiet enough so that I wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

Folio groaned and writhed around on the table in pain. I began cutting away his black t-shirt in order to inspect the wound. It was a clean shot. No tearing. Lucky for him. However, the bullet had not gone through all of the way and had appeared to be lodged in between two of his ribs. I would need to cut the wound wider in order to gain enough access to remove the bullet. Less lucky for him.

“Do you guys have anything that will nock him out for a few hours?” I asked Matt, Bryan and Jolly who had all hung around to keep an eye on myself and Folio.

“We only have immune-suppressors here. But I can go see if Nick and Noah have some?” Matt replied.

“Be quick. I think it goes without saying that your boy here is in a fuck tonne of pain.” I said.

With that, Matt jogged out of the door Nick and Noah had left through. About five minutes passed when the door slammed back open and a frustrated looking Noah barged back through with a brown paper bag.

“Here. This should nock him out.” He snarled at me, “Get it yourself next time princess. I don’t work for you. And neither do my guys.” He then turned back around and left through the door he came through.

Rolling my eyes at him, I got to work with giving the meds to Folio who was still writing in pain.

The meds helped tremendously and I was able to remove the bullet from Folio with little to no fuss at all. It was easy without lord asshat, Noah, breathing down my neck or generally pissing me off.

After stitching Folio’s side back up, Matt, Bryan and Jolly moved him into his room so he would be comfortable.

I was then brought into their home. I was greeted with a large, open-plan room that contained a kitchen with a large island that extended for most of the back wall and had enough stools surrounding the breakfast bar side of it for a small army. On the opposite wall was a living area with what appeared to be a one-way window that wrapped around the outer wall of the room. Impressive. Expensive.

The door on the right hand wall slammed open and Noah stormed through. A scowl etched across his face in replacement of his signature smirk. The glare he sent me bore holes into my skull.

“What the fuck was that!” He yelled while stomping towards me with his finger pointed at me accusingly.

“Huh?” I replied.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me princess. Back there. On the road. You bailed. Who the fuck does that!” He argued back.

“I didn’t bail. If you remember correctly. That is if you didn’t hit your fucking head you delusional asshole. I came back and killed the people you fucking couldn’t.” I retaliated furiously.

Noah started laughing. Fucking laughing.

“No princess. You pussied out and came back when the fight was easier.” Noah chuckled menacingly.

“Go fuck yourself!” I screamed back at him.

“You are one of us now. Whether you like it or not. We protect each other. That’s the deal.” Noah snarled. Getting right in my face. “And you. Fucking. Bailed.” He punctuated with a poke to my chest.

“I wouldn’t have had to do that if your fucking scout had done his fucking job.” I snarled back at him.

“Yeah? You mean our scout who is currently upstairs out cold because you fucking bailed and he got fucking shot? That scout?” He whispered menacingly.

“I didn’t bail. I covered the back Noah.” I said in response.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night princess.” He replied without breaking eye contact.

Silence fell between us as my eye flickered from his brown eyes to his lips that were incredibly close to my own. I could see Noah’s eyes doing the same.

“Now I see why you ride solo. Selfish bitch.” He muttered as he backed away from me.

“The fuck did you just say to me asshole?” I screamed as I followed him.

“You heard me princess.” He replied with a grin across his face.

“I don’t think I did because you would have to be a complete fucking moron to say what you just said.” I yelled at him.

“I think we both know who the moron here is princess.” Noah growled back at me.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” I snarled in reply.

“All I’m saying is that it’s no wonder you ride solo because who the fuck in their right minds would want to be in a crew with a selfish, backstabbing bitch like you.” Noah Growled with a smirk on his gorgeous face.

Before I had time to slap his stupid face, an incoming call tore through the silence that lingered after his statement.

Chapter 2 Anything > Human Masterlist Main Masterlist

[black-lake]

2nd house profection year

it’s my 2nd house profection year and I’m noticing some changes in my life. < my 2nd house is in cancer for ref.

~༯ I’m eating more this year than ever tbh. like I started having comfort food!!! eating whatever I want whenever and not holding myself back as much, which is very unlike me btw. I have a virgo moon and I’m not just nitpicky but also strict with my diet, even tho I have a fast metabolism (aries stellium).

~༯ usually when I’m stressed I tend to starve myself or get over caffeinated but this year I’m leaning more towards eating for comfort < yes taurus core.

~༯ I started going to the gym again but I’d slack off and become uninterested and bored, then find it interesting again, but that could just be my gem rising.

~༯ It seems like life is more abundant. things come easier! there's less resistance. I’m able to slow down and smell the roses.. 𓇢𓆸  I even feel a bit too comfortable or stuck in my comfort zone. everything seems like it’s too much and I just want to enjoy life. ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

~༯ I started buying flowers, planting flowers, decorating my house a lot more, got more perfumes, more beautiful things. currently as we speaking I have like 10 different types of flowers in my house. I started cooking more, I even made up recipes that my family liked and started making them regularly.

~༯ I’m taking care of my skin, my body, and overall health. I'm investing more in skincare and health supplements. though sometimes I overdue it, like get fixated on one thing or another.

~༯ I'm someone that used to have high energy, I'd pull an all nighter or just wake up at 3am scroll non stop or put music on, it wasn’t energy it was ⋆˙⟡ anxiety ⟡⋆˙ , but I'm having more quality sleep this year! I'm in bed by 10 and maybe I just got older, but there's that.

~༯ giving my hair a well deserved break!! I used do dye my hair very often, this year I got a short haircut and I’m growing my natural hair back, I’ve only added a few subtle highlights and I don’t style it as often. I'm embracing more simplicity with my style, though could be that my ass got lazy 𐙚(ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤)

~༯ I'm planing more, working on my skills and hobbies, but not rushing or forcing things and not setting high expectations either. I don't feel like there's a rush like before. my values are changing significantly, I know what I like and don’t like and what I can put up with.

~༯ don't get too comfortable and not do anything about moving forward bcz you will be tempted to. remember to still challenge yourself!

~༯ I’m having a relatively comfortable year it got me having flashbacks of my 12th house profection year which was a fckin nightmare. It was all about the subconscious, mental health struggles, depression and overcoming these things. It really was about coming up with personified methods that help me deal with these internal conflict so I can move forward. It also was the year I became more spiritual.

~༯ my 1st house profection year wasn’t good either for me personally, it was super challenging and chaotic. it had me doing things outside my comfort zone. e.g. throwing myself in the ocean (i'm afraid of drowning). my individuality was constantly tested, my determination, my willingness to put myself first and not compromise my own needs and values.

~༯ there were instances where I felt like I'm compromising for the sake of keeping a friendship, which wasn’t reciprocated. I learned to not be afraid to walk away from ppl and places that don’t respect or value me. my cut off game wasn't particularly bad before, but I felt blinded, manipulated and pressured that year, I had to fully trust myself and only rely on myself. very much aries themes. 

~༯ If you're going thRU it with your 12th or 1st house profection, know that it will teach you valuable lessons that lead you to know yourself and love yourself more. you will understand your triggers, your strengths, know who your enemies and true friends are. it gets better! this feels like the perfect year to take a break from all the past challenges that I went through, I'm able to slow down, enjoy life and reflect until I see where the next tides takes me. 

stay blessed, much luv <333