#underbelly a tale of two cities | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsukikitten · 4 months ago

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Your lungs burn, begging for air as you forgo proper breathing technique as fear steadily creeps into your veins. Feet propelling you through the busy market place of the city as seagulls call overhead and the brine of the ocean clings to your skin. This was home, at least it had been for the last six months, you have the advantage of knowing the layout over someone who's only just arrived.

And yet he is expertly cornering you.

Being stalked by the Dragon Knights was one thing but being stalked by him was another. Or so you heard.

The tales told about his ‘honorable’ cruelty were spoken in caution and hushed whispers in dark alleys or late at night. As if saying his name too loud or too often would summon him.

Yerkes.

You had said his name so boldly last night around the campfire, so nonchalant over the alleged predator that stalked down fugitives. Spat or scoffed it you cannot remember now as the very thing you mocked gives chase.

Rounding a corner to slide into the mouth of an ally that leads into the underbelly of the city. The abandoned tunnels were where most criminals sought refuge and could lose pursuers in the pitch black landscape; you'd lost a knight before you could do it again.

Although it would prove more difficult this time as it was “personal now.”

His low timber of a voice growled the threat in your ear, chest heaving, smile wide and cruel. His fingers twitching before tossing away the hair he ripped from your throbbing skull all over three small scratches on his cheek.

But what were you supposed to do? Let him take you?

Fat fucking chance.

Your fingers grip at the heavy manhole hidden beneath layers of garbage, scrambling to move the metal when a large red scaled dragon tail slams on the ground before you.

Panic rises up your throat, desperately dulling your senses as you foolishly try to move the appendage out of the way.

It should be easy, light, as all it does is extend from his spine as he stands tall in the mouth of the alley. His slitted red eyes glowing like embers as they scorch every inch of your skin they land on. Yet still you are unable to make it budge and even the blade at your side snaps against the sturdy blood red scales.

“Did you really think you'd get away from me, little stray?” He barks a laugh, pulling you to him by his tail while also walking closer. Forcing you closer until you're at his feet, tail wrapping around your ribs to keep you still as he leans down. His golden earnings sway from the action, reflecting the setting sun off the coast as the busy murmurs of the port echo around the two of you.

Anger spikes in your blood once more, wrapping your fingers around the precious metal and yanking, ripping the jewelry from his ear with a snarling hiss and arc of blood.

“Bitch.” The scaly appendage squeezes you even tighter, causing you to cough and sputter yet still you hold onto the jewelry as it bites into your skin.

“This is all you know isn't it.” He poses it as a statement rather than a question because he knows the answer, “Thievery, desperation, violence. Like some mangy little stray cat.”

Heat burns like venom in your lungs, wrapping around your heart even as the breath is stolen from you. Voice silenced like it has been all your life.

Still you gather saliva on your tongue, pushing it to the tip before spitting a glob of it onto his handsome face.

The Earth shakes beneath the two of you from his rage, piles of trash and rusty scrap metal crush beneath the weight of it before it stops all together. As if he's collected himself but not for long. Ringed fingers curling into your hair before they twist and pull, yanking you to look up at him as blood drips from his cheeks and ear.

“Tsk.” He wipes away the glob of spit flicking it from his thumb, “You forget I'm a scale dragon. I can freely increase any matter I touch. Brick, metal, Earth, even your bones and teeth can be my weapons. I suggest you tread lightly.”

With his threat your body creaks from an unknown pressure. Bones threatening to snap, head too heavy for the muscles in your neck to hold it up and had it not been for his fingers in your hair you head would have killed back on to warm scales.

“Even though you getting away really did piss me off, it was fun.” He tosses your head away from him and the pressure lets up some, body still much too heavy to move as if a tar pit had opened up beneath you and swallowed you whole. “Really fun.”

He squats down to get to your level for a moment, grabbing onto your chin to turn your face this way and that, “Not too many women fight back ya know. Most of the time the crime isn't even their own.”

For a moment you think you hear pity in his harsh tone making your eyes snap to his and he chuckles. Thumb swiping over your bottom lip as he traces a feature of you he quite likes, even through the pain and lethargy you snap at him.

“I wanna see what else this mouth can do besides bite and spit.” He coos callously down at you, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Imposing more pressure on you, making you putty in his grip. Leaning into his warm tail as he stands up, fingers quick to undo his belt freeing his cock that hangs heavy in the air. Veins forking in his skin as it twitches under your scrutiny before a bead of pre weeps from the slit.

Drool collects on your tongue, horror slowly ebbing as it contorts into hope.

Into an idea.

Using all of your strength to press sharpened nails into the meat of his thigh earning a flash of surprise before a snarl paints his handsome face.

“I'll do this-” Speaking takes so much out of you, hardly hearing your own voice over the rush of your pounding blood, “I'll do this if you let me go.”

“Sure sweetheart. I'll let you go.” He scoffs, grabbing onto your jaw to force your mouth open. His hand at the base of his cock as he guides himself into your warm heat until he hits the back of your fuckable throat. Groaning when you gag and sputter, throat tightening around the intrusion of his cock head before he pulls back just enough to let you breathe.

You have just enough agency over your body you can hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling around his length, tasting those forking veins you saw earlier as he rocks his hips with vigor.

Fucking into your mouth with unabashed grunts and groans, loudly boasting over how good you feel.

“Fuck, knew your mouth was good. Is this how ya eluded the knights for so long?” He looks down at you, meeting your gaze before you purposefully make yourself gag.

You think you feel his fingers in your hair relax first, slowly seeping into his bones until he's finally so caught up in pleasure he's starting to lose his hold on his power on you. Bit by bit you can feel yourself being able to move more.

Enough you can sit up on your knees now as you take him down your throat. Bobbing your head more freely and even moving your free hand to dip into his pants so you can grope his fat sac. Your own thighs rubbing together as you start to relish in the sounds he makes, in the feel of his nails against your scalp, how his tail tightens and loosens around you but most of all his face.

Brows furrowed up, mouth open in a near constant groan or sigh as he looks down on you with such an intense gaze you think it'll be burned into your skin forever.

“Bet you love this don't ya?” He smirks when he sees you squirm, you flash a glare up at him and a shake of your head, “Oh no?”

He's panting when he pulls you off of him with a lewd pop, silvery strings connect you with his fat length. Tip of his scaled tail squeezing at your breast before slipping down the front of your body. Warm appendage sliding over your mound before it curls against your clothed cunt as if he were cupping you with his hand.

“So if I press, I won't hear a pretty little squelch?” He mocks as you try to back away only to be caged in by the mass of scales that encircle you. Applying more pressure until the cloth starts to stick to your slit before he hears a very satisfying sound.

Squuuuueeelch

“Aaaahh fuck. You are into this.” He growls, sliding his tail tighter against your clothed cunt, rubbing roughly encouraging you to grind against him. Straddling the thick muscle reminds you of a thigh but the roughness of the scales catches your clit deliciously. His tail vibrates his excitement as he shoves himself back into your mouth, bucking into your throat sloppily.

The vibrations from your moan make his cock twitch in your mouth and his tongue loll past his lips as he thinks his vision will blank. But he won't allow himself his release just yet not until you're ruining your pants and creaming on his scales.

Delighting in how your hips grind desperately into his body, feeling your pleasure in the way you vibrate against his cock. Waiting for the tell tale signs that you're going to cum before he wraps his tail in such a way you can't move your hips. Whining against him, trying to move as a tremor runs through your body. Pleading wet eyes as you look up at him is a sinful enough imagine to have his sac tighten.

His stomach spasms before his dick unloads road after got rope into your mouth as he forced your head down until your nose presses against the nest thatch of dark hair on his pelvis.

He's panting as you claw at his thighs to no avail groaning out a drawn out, “Fuuuuuuuck.”

Eyes still fluttering as he looks down at you, letting you pop off of his dick as he stares down with glowing red eyes.

“Aww what's wrong I thought you didn't want me like that.”

“I want you dead.” You spit but it doesn't land anywhere past his stomach, if anything it earns a rough fisting of your hair as he glares down at you. Smirk playing on his cruel mouth, exerting so much power over you now. The weight of the pressure he applies has you gasping for breath, clawing weakly at his skin before his tail moves across your cunt in a teasing manner before going back to gently cradling you. A contrast in how gentle the giant appendage is compared to the rough grip at your scalp. Slumping as your eyes try to flutter close, head falling back onto his scaled tail when he lets go.

“Such good head deserves a reward, no?” He taunts, leaning over you as he delights in your discomfort. He knows you can't answer, hell you're even fighting to stay awake but no one else has been able to endure this much weight of his power before.

The prospect of possibilities has his cock trying to twitch back to life.

“I offer you this. I'll keep hunting you over and over and over until the day you die or until you start to bore me.” He slaps your cheek with his finger tips to keep you conscious, tail unfurling around you making you fall into the cobblestone alley.

“So I suggest you run.”

#yerkes x reader

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guardian-angle22 · 2 months ago

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I promised a book haul of all the exciting books I purchased on my travels to London and Edinburgh! y'all... I bought TEN books...

Here is the stack of books and also some cute bookmarks I got from various places!

Here is the breakdown of all the books with their official descriptions:

Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson

Rosemary meets Ash at the farmers’ market. Ash—precise, pretty, and practically perfect—sells bars of soap in delicate pastel colors, sprinkle-spackled cupcakes stacked on scalloped stands, beeswax candles, jelly jars of honey, and glossy green plants. Ro has never felt this way about another woman; with Ash, she wants to be her and have her in equal measure. But as her obsession with Ash consumes her, she may find she’s not the one doing the devouring…

Monsters: What Do We Do With Great Art By Bad People? by Claire Dederer

Pablo Picasso beat his partners. Richard Wagner was deeply antisemitic. David Bowie slept with an underage fan. But many of us still love Guernica and the Ring cycle and Ziggy Stardust. And what are we to do with that love? How are we, as fans, to reckon with the biographical choices of the artists whose work sustains us? Wildly smart and insightful, Monsters is an exhilarating attempt to understand our relationship with art and the artist in the twenty-first century.

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi

One weekend. The elite underbelly of a Nigerian city. A breakup that starts a spiral. A party that goes awry. A tangled web of sex and lies and corruption that leaves no one unscathed. Little Rot is a whirling journey through the city’s dark side, told through the eyes of five people, each determined to run from the twisted powers out to destroy them. Aima and Kalu are a longtime couple who have just split. When Kalu, reeling from his loss, visits a sex party hosted by his best friend, Ahmed, he makes a decision that will plunge them all into chaos, brutally upending their lives. Ola and Souraya, two Nigerian sex workers visiting from Kuala Lumpur, intersect with the three old friends as everything goes to hell. Sucked into the city’s corrupt underworld, they’re all looking for a way out of the trouble they’ve instigated, driven by loss and fueled by a desperate need to escape the dangerous threat that looms over them. They careen madly in the face of the poison of power, sexual violence, murder, betrayals. Little Rot tests how far these five will go to save each other—or themselves—when confronted by evil, culminating in a shattering denouement.

The Wind Knows My Name by Isabel Allende

Vienna, 1938. Samuel Adler is five years old when his father disappears during Kristallnacht—the night his family loses everything. As her child’s safety becomes ever harder to guarantee, Samuel’s mother secures a spot for him on a Kindertransport train out of Nazi-occupied Austria to England. He boards alone, carrying nothing but a change of clothes and his violin.

Arizona, 2019. Eight decades later, Anita Díaz and her mother board another train, fleeing looming danger in El Salvador and seeking refuge in the United States. But their arrival coincides with the new family separation policy, and seven-year-old Anita finds herself alone at a camp in Nogales. She escapes her tenuous reality through her trips to Azabahar, a magical world of the imagination. Meanwhile, Selena Durán, a young social worker, enlists the help of a successful lawyer in hopes of tracking down Anita’s mother.

Intertwining past and present, The Wind Knows My Name tells the tale of these two unforgettable characters, both in search of family and home. It is both a testament to the sacrifices that parents make and a love letter to the children who survive the most unfathomable dangers—and never stop dreaming.

Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood by bell hooks

Stitching together the threads of her girlhood memories, bell hooks shows us one strong-spirited child's journey toward becoming the pioneering writer we know. Along the way, hooks sheds light on the vulnerability of children, the special unfurling of female creativity and the imbalance of a society that confers marriage's joys upon men and its silences on women. In a world where daughters and fathers are strangers under the same roof, and crying children are often given something to cry about, hooks uncovers the solace to be found in solitude, the comfort to be had in the good company of books. Bone Black allows us to bear witness to the awakening of a legendary author's awareness that writing is her most vital breath.

A House at the Bottom of a Lake by Josh Malerman

Both seventeen. Both afraid. But both saying yes. It sounded like the perfect first date: canoeing across a chain of lakes, sandwiches and beer in the cooler. But teenagers Amelia and James discover something below the water’s surface that changes their lives forever. It’s got two stories. It’s got a garden. And the front door is open. It’s a house at the bottom of a lake. For the teens, there is only one rule: no questions. And yet, how could a place so spectacular come with no price tag? While the duo plays house beneath the waves, one reality remains: Just because a house is empty, doesn’t mean nobody’s home.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner

Kissen’s family were killed by zealots of a fire god. Now, she makes a living killing gods, and enjoys it. That is until she finds a god she cannot kill: Skedi, a god of white lies, has somehow bound himself to a young noble, and they are both on the run from unknown assassins. Joined by a disillusioned knight on a secret quest, they must travel to the ruined city of Blenraden, where the last of the wild gods reside, to each beg a favour. Pursued by demons, and in the midst of burgeoning civil war, they will all face a reckoning – something is rotting at the heart of their world, and only they can be the ones to stop it.

People Love Dead Jews: Reports from a Haunted Present by Dara Horn

Renowned and beloved as a prizewinning novelist, Dara Horn has also been publishing penetrating essays since she was a teenager. Often asked by major publications to write on subjects related to Jewish culture—and increasingly in response to a recent wave of deadly antisemitic attacks—Horn was troubled to realize what all of these assignments had in common: she was being asked to write about dead Jews, never about living ones. In these essays, Horn reflects on subjects as far-flung as the international veneration of Anne Frank, the mythology that Jewish family names were changed at Ellis Island, the blockbuster traveling exhibition Auschwitz, the marketing of the Jewish history of Harbin, China, and the little-known life of the "righteous Gentile" Varian Fry. Throughout, she challenges us to confront the reasons why there might be so much fascination with Jewish deaths, and so little respect for Jewish lives unfolding in the present. Horn draws upon her travels, her research, and also her own family life—trying to explain Shakespeare’s Shylock to a curious ten-year-old, her anger when swastikas are drawn on desks in her children’s school, the profound perspective offered by traditional religious practice and study—to assert the vitality, complexity, and depth of Jewish life against an antisemitism that, far from being disarmed by the mantra of "Never forget," is on the rise. As Horn explores the (not so) shocking attacks on the American Jewish community in recent years, she reveals the subtler dehumanization built into the public piety that surrounds the Jewish past—making the radical argument that the benign reverence we give to past horrors is itself a profound affront to human dignity.

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

In 1949 Helene Hanff, a “poor writer with an antiquarian taste in books”, wrote to Marks & Co Booksellers of 84 Charing Cross Rd, in search of the rare editions she was unable to find in New York. Her books were dispatched with polite but brisk efficiency. But, seeking further treasures, Helene soon found herself in regular correspondence with bookseller Frank Doel, laying siege to his English reserve with her warmth and wit. And as letters, books and quips crossed the ocean, a friendship flourished that would endure for twenty years.

Rouge by Mona Awad

For as long as she can remember, Belle has been insidiously obsessed with her skin and skincare videos. When her estranged mother Noelle mysteriously dies, Belle finds herself back in Southern California, dealing with her mother’s considerable debts and grappling with lingering questions about her death. The stakes escalate when a strange woman in red appears at the funeral, offering a tantalizing clue about her mother’s demise, followed by a cryptic video about a transformative spa experience. With the help of a pair of red shoes, Belle is lured into the barbed embrace of La Maison de Méduse, the same lavish, culty spa to which her mother was devoted. There, Belle discovers the frightening secret behind her (and her mother’s) obsession with the mirror—and the great shimmering depths (and demons) that lurk on the other side of the glass. Snow White meets Eyes Wide Shut in this surreal descent into the dark side of beauty, envy, grief, and the complicated love between mothers and daughters. With black humor and seductive horror, Rouge explores the cult-like nature of the beauty industry—as well as the danger of internalizing its pitiless gaze. Brimming with California sunshine and blood-red rose petals, Rouge holds up a warped mirror to our relationship with mortality, our collective fixation with the surface, and the wondrous, deep longing that might lie beneath.

#books #book haul #guardian reads (sometimes)#when you have so many books you gotta use a cut to save the timeline #I’m very excited to read these!!#I’ve been reading a TON this month!

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treacheryinblue · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1/?

Word Count: 8.5k

Masterlist

A Noah Sebastian x OC x Nicholas Ruffilo Series

× Summary: In the not so distant future, there's only Above and Below ― a "castle" that reaches the sky and the gritty underbelly that's looked down upon ( both literally and metaphorically ). The guys are recruited to carry out the task of taking down this power with the assistance of Scarlett: a confident and seductive, yet mysterious, force that may be closer to the enemy than what she lets on. Themes: dystopian, cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, etc.

× Warnings!: Things get smutty. Language. Death - both spoken of and written. Violence. Anti-government. Broody Noah. Precious baby angel Nicholas. A girl who can't choose. Drinking, drugs, etc. Unreliable narrator? Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings if there's anything additional.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) Just going to be honest straight up ― if you don't like world building, then you may not like this. ⍨ ( 2 ) This chapter is more Nick centered because he deserves some recognition on my page. ( 3 ) Feedback of any kind is welcomed. Happy reading! ❤

Known affectionately as Lost Angeles, the last true and vast surviving city.

Made up of Heaven and Hell, most commonly referred to as Above and Below.

Why? Because, well, the latter was quite a ways down from the glimmering mega tower that you either hated with a passion, or desperately wanted to become a part of.

Although, anyone with at least two working brain cells could see that Heaven was a cruel and sadistic facade ran by a dictator by the name of Silver. Its main purpose being to inflict fear upon those belonging to Below; a way to control them, a warning they were always forced to see no matter where they stood within the decaying city.

This is why Noah chose to conduct the majority of his doings even further down, right in the underground of Below.

“You want us to what?”

A fit of laughter erupted from him, the three men standing a bit further back following suit with amusement of their own.

“You've got to be fucking joking.”

The older man’s face reddened with anger, his pudgy fingers rapping against the table top that separated him from them. This man in reference was Ulrik, a well known con man and loan shark that had a way of getting things done. Did you have a messy job you needed performed to completion? Ulrik was your guy, but always for a hefty price.

This is how Noah knew he had to be truly desperate if he was outsourcing his jobs now. Or maybe he just needed to find someone stupid enough to agree to the suicide mission.

“I was being nice by asking. Did you forget that you owe me a favor?”

A heavy sigh was then expelled, his gloved hand lifting to rub his chin from over the black ski mask that covered the entirety of his head. It's the same mask the other guys wore as well, the one thing keeping their identities secret.

It wasn't an odd thing to see. People of Below were known to wear masks - some more simple, others terribly intricate - solely because it kept them safe from the debris and dust that was constantly floating through the air. Wearing them inside was a little less popular.

“I'll even make it easier for you,” Ulrik continued with a toothy grin that was riddled with bits of gold. “There's a girl-”

“A girl?” Noah repeated, brows raised beneath the mask.

“Yes, a girl. She can help you get in and out of the Tower. She's smart. Does work for me sometimes.”

Another laugh was pulled from him, followed by a roll of his eyes. Noah leaned back casually in his chair, though his hands remained clasped atop the table. He was staring the man down, silently daring him to feed him bullshit one more time.

“Cut the shit, ‘Rik. Everyone knows you don't just enter the Tower and then live to tell the tale when you don't belong there. People go up, but they never come down.”

Ulrik’s grin lingered, becoming more and more smug by the second.

“Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong. She has gone both up and down.”

× × ×

Seven wasn’t exactly where he was expecting to end up that night. He stared up at the neon-lit business front, flashing signs indicating the purchase of companionship, while others promised music and dancing. He had passed by the building many times, but never stepped foot inside. Tales of the happenings inside ran rampant, though. From what he gathered, it wasn't a place for the faint of heart.

“I can't believe you agreed to this shit.”

Noah glanced over to Nicholas as he took a deep drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. The motion was followed with a shrug, his expression remaining blank.

“I agreed to us talking to the girl. I never agreed to us taking the job.”

“When it comes to Ulrik, you may as well have signed our lives away.”

That could've possibly been true, but Noah was going to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe nothing would come of this visit. Maybe he would let them turn the job down. Maybe they'd laugh it off together. Or maybe all of them would end up with their tongues cut out.

Noah didn't say anything else before taking long strides up to the building, Nick trailing begrudgingly behind him. Despite the masks still covering their faces, the rather large and buff man at the door nodded them in. If they looked like buyers, then there was no issue.

…now he wasn't so sure what that said about them.

Inside of Seven was dark, the only source of light coming from the red and blue LEDs sporadically placed around. It was cleaner than he was expecting, but there was still a sharp scent in the air that led him to believe strong cleaning products were used on the regular. Noah didn't want to think about what they could possibly be cleaning in depth so often.

“Hey there, handsome.” A woman cooed almost as soon as they walked into the main area, her hand grazing along his chest as she sauntered by. She didn't pause to entice them in, though. Probably because she could sense their lack of engagement due to his skill of avoiding eye contact, and basically acting like she wasn't there to begin with.

Stepping deeper in, Noah was on high alert. He looked to every corner, studied every face, and noted every exit that could be seen. Never know when you'd have to make a quick getaway.

The music playing throughout had a deep bass to it; one of those dark wave tracks that was supposed to sound sexy, but it only bored him. Dolled up women were seen with every sweep of his gaze, as well as desperate men looking for someone to force their fantasies on. A few of the women were encased in large metal cages, their bodies moving rhythmically to the songs playing.

Yeah, this place definitely screamed ‘Below’. It was gritty and filthy - in the kinky sort of way. Depraved was possibly a better word for it.

“Hey,” Noah called out to a man who stood to the side with his hands clasped in front of him. He was obviously security, so hopefully that meant he could point them in the right direction.

“We’re looking for a girl that goes by Scarlett. You know where we can find her?”

Macho security man took one look at them and shook his head.

“Ah, come on!” Noah grinned beneath the mask with his attempt at being inviting. “A friend of mine said she was the best. I just want to try her out for myself.”

Fuck - how badly he wanted to gag and cringe at his own words.

“If you don't know which girl she is, then she isn't the girl for you. Now fuck off.”

Noah figured it was best to not argue with security, so he took a few steps back and then turned to Nick. “The hospitality here is something to be desired.”

“Why don't we just take a look around? Maybe one of the other girls will point her out.”

Just as Noah was about to agree, a sweet voice cut through the atrocious music that was still thumping ridiculously loud through the club.

“Did you say Scarlett?”

Both him and Nick simultaneously turned towards the voice, only to see that it belonged to a girl in one of the cages. Her manicured fingers gripped the bars as she kneeled down to their level, eyes bouncing back and forth between them both.

“You know her?”

The girl's fair shoulders gave a shrug, though she smiled when she briefly locked her gaze with his.

“Everyone knows Scarlett.”

The girl was running a hand up and down along one of the bars that separated them. Noah assumed this was a way to entice the desperate men in, leading them to think of her hand wrapped around their unsavory dicks and not the metal.

“Hi, pretty eyes.” Her focus was now on Nick, which didn't surprise him. Even with the masks, he was sure Nick appeared nicer than he did. Someone that would be easier to talk to. Easier to butter up.

Leaning in closer to the bars, her hands spread across to widen her grip, showcasing her cleavage that was popping out from the skimpy top she wore. Noah knew the games, and he knew Nick did too, but that wasn't going to stop his friend from falling for it. Hard.

“What will it take for you to introduce us to her?”

The girl smirked, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she thought.

“Buy a private room for an hour. Ask specifically for number thirteen.” She tore her gaze from Nick to look over to him, obviously showing no shame in the way her eyes raked up and down his tall stature. “I'll make sure she's there.”

With that, she stood up to her full height and made a motion to the side which prompted someone to unlock the cage.

“Go on,” she smiled at them before she could exit, shooing them away to a cashier.

“Ulrik better fucking reimburse us for this.” Noah grumbled while already beginning to pull the cash from his pockets.

× × ×

Room thirteen was on the second floor and sat at the very end of the hall. He assumed this was the most private of all the rooms, merely from the location alone. While making their way to it with the key clutched in his grasp, he could hear all the unpleasant things happening beyond the other doors they passed. Most sounded like noises of enjoyment but there were some that reminded him of pure torture. Those were the ones he didn't want to think too hard about. They had a task at hand, and worrying about what 'paying customers’ did was not it.

As they entered the room, all outside noises suddenly stopped upon closing the door. That sure was interesting. He shook his head, cautious steps then being taken further into the room. It was reminiscent of a hotel room, but not as luxurious. There was a bed, a dresser, and a darkened doorway which he assumed led to a bathroom.

“This is fucked,” he murmured with a glance to Nick who had just plopped down into a chair that sat in the corner.

“Do we know anyone that comes to these sorts of places?”

Noah chuckled, his head ducking a bit in an attempt to see if he could inspect behind the mirror attached to the dresser. It was easy to assume that they were being watched and listened to.

“I doubt it, unless you mean know like how we know Ulrik. My guess is he's a big spender here.”

A gloved hand ran along the seam of the mirror pressed to the wall, looking it up and down suspiciously. Did each room have a camera? Or just some perverted guy sitting behind a two way mirror monitoring their doings? Either way, he fucking hated the feeling of being watched.

“What are you doing?”

Well, that voice surely didn't belong to Nick.

His eyes flickered up to the door of the room that was being closed, the same girl from the cage standing in the entryway.

“There's a reason why I told you guys to request this room. No cameras. No mics.”

There was something different about the girl now - other than the fact that she had covered herself in a black silk robe that hit the top of her thighs. Was it that her voice wasn't as sweet? Her eyes a little more piercing? Or had she just completely dropped the act now that they were behind closed doors?

“Where's Scarlett?” Noah ignored her initial question, instead choosing to respond with one of his own. He didn't have the time or patience to play this game.

The girl arched a brow, her eyes brightening with a hint of amusement. She walked by where he stood, then bent at the waist when she was at the end of the dresser. From the bottom drawer she produced an unlabeled bottle, as well as three glasses which she placed atop the dresser.

“I think she is Scarlett…” Nick spoke up, still seated.

With a widening grin, the girl put her fingertip to her nose and looked back to Nick from over her shoulder, the same finger shifting to point his way. “Good job, pretty eyes. I'm glad at least one of you can put a two-piece puzzle together.”

A glass of amber liquid was extended to him, which he had no choice but to take upon her forcing it to his chest. He noted that she was much more gentle when offering an identical drink to Nick, the other being kept for herself.

“Before anything else is said, I'm going to need you guys to take the masks off.”

Noah immediately shook his head. “That's not happening.”

An intense look was sent his way from Scarlett. Her hand was on her hip, heel-clad feet carrying her closer to him.

“Either you take off the masks or we're done here.”

SCARLETT

“Well?” Her brows quirked as she stepped around the tall one, slow motions being taken closer to the one with the clear blue-grey eyes. She was already more fond of him.

“Just do it,” he exhaled, quickly pulling his mask off as if he was ripping a band-aid free in one swift motion.

Mumbles of aggravation came from the tall one, but she knew he had done the same based on the sounds of shuffling around and the way his mask was then tossed to the edge of the bed. When she glanced back to him, he was working his fingers through his hair, but that wasn't what caught her attention

“Hold on…you guys are Entertainers?” Scarlett’s eyes went wide with excitement, her sights going back and forth between the two of them again. The guys said nothing, though they shared a silent look with each other that had her interest piqued.

“Ulrik failed to mention that when he told me I'd have visitors.”

“That's because Ulrik doesn't know. That's also how it's going to stay, got it?”

Entertainers were some of the most important people, both Above and Below. They had a way of controlling the masses and getting messages out, especially these specific Entertainers she was currently in the company of. If anyone was to know they were in cahoots with someone of the likes of Ulrik, they would probably disappear in a snap.

“Are you always so feisty?” Scarlett shook her head as she brought her drink to her lips.

“Since you recognize us, does that mean you've seen our shows?”

Nodding, she reached over to lightly drag her fingertip along the seated one’s jaw. His bright eyes lifted to meet with hers and she instantly graced him with a sweet smile.

“A few times, actually. Let's just say…I'm all about your scene.”

The scene she spoke of being one that was kept hush hush, all because of their leadership in the powers that wanted to overthrow Above. Not everyone was privy to this information, though. To be a part of it meant sure death.

“Listen, Scarlett, that's not why we're here. Ulrik told us to come talk to you, see what you could do to help us with this job he has, so we can decide if we're going to take it or not.”

“Oh, honey, if you're here talking to me then you've already taken the job.”

Although she was addressing the tall one on the opposite side of the room, her sights remained set on this sweeter one she had taken much more of a liking to.

“Do you think you just happened to run into me by chance downstairs? No. I knew you were coming, that's why I was on the floor to begin with. Just waiting for the guys with an ‘air of arrogance' to arrive.”

Scarlett looked back to the tall guy, her eyes drinking him in again. She was well aware of the perplexed expression he wore as he studied her, obviously trying to figure her out. Jokes on him, because he would never be able to.

“You two have names?”

“Nicholas,” her favorite almost immediately revealed. “Nick.”

“Fucking seriously?” The unknown guy hissed, now looking at him in disbelief. “You're just going to drop your name like that all because you're hypnotized by her tits?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“My eyes are pretty nice too, but don't get your panties in a twist. You need something from me, correct? So, how can you trust me with that if you don't even trust me with your name?”

This got him to shut up for a second because he knew she was right. Something told her that he didn't like being the one who wasn't. His arrogant demeanor wasn't exactly her favorite quality about him, but she was going to let it slide this time. All because of her own curiosities.

“Noah,” he finally answered after a long pause of silence had settled between them.

“Can we just cut to the chase? No more of your seductive cage dancer bullshit. We bought the room - you - to talk, not to play little games.”

Scarlett retracted her touch from Nick, her body language immediately shifting to defensive mode. She was finding it harder and harder to play nice when it came to this Noah jackass.

“Not that it's any of your business but I'm not a cage dancer and I'm not for sale.” Her eyes narrowed at him in a silent warning, though she still found her way in front of him despite how badly she wanted to drop him on his ass.

“That know-it-all attitude of yours is going to leave you dead one day. So if I were you, I'd compose myself a little more, especially when you're asking someone for help.”

She could tell that he wanted to say something else, but she continued before he could.

“Sit down and shut up. I don't want to hear another peep from you until I say. I'll be directing my attention and questions to Nick.”

Scarlett motioned to him, her smile returning as she did. She was going to show Noah that you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so maybe he could learn a lesson or two to take home with him to resonate on.

“Now, Nicky, why don't you tell me about this job Ulrik has so kindly signed you up for?” She sat on the edge of the bed closest to the chair he remained perched in. Her back was straight, one leg crossed over the other, and her focus was now solely on him.

Nick took in a deep breath before tilting his head back to down what remained of the liquor in his glass. He grimaced slightly, just enough to bring a genuine smile to her lips at the sight.

“He wants us to break into the Tower.”

Scarlett slowly nodded since she had already gathered as much. “Is…that it?”

“No…” Nick shook his head. “Once in the Tower, he wants us to cut the power to it permanently and then kill Silver.”

It felt as if someone had punched her right in the gut, that's how strong the shock was when she heard his words. Had Ulrik lost his goddamn mind?

“He wants you to kill Silver? President Silver? The man who runs Silver Life Industries, also known as the company that provides every-fucking-thing we lay our eyes on?”

The destruction included.

Nick could only nod and when she glanced back at Noah, he had his elbows propped up on his knees with the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. It was obvious that they knew how ridiculous it sounded. Not to mention how dangerous it was. Hell, this was the only room in Seven not bugged and even she started feeling nervous that someone could hear them.

“Well…shit.”

“Can you help us or not?”

Scarlett wanted to scold Noah for speaking before she allowed him to, but with the situation that was just dropped into her lap, she no longer cared about his manners.

“I mean…yeah, I can get you guys into the Tower, but you have to survive to actually make it out too.”

“Perfect. All we needed to know.” Noah dropped his hands to his knees in a slap then stood from the opposite corner of the bed he had claimed. The mask was tugged back over his face and adjusted properly, thus signaling to Nick that it was time for them to go.

“How do we get in touch with you?” Nick questioned after mimicking Noah's motions, both of their identities now concealed.

Scarlett smiled before opening the door, a rush of mixed noises immediately assaulting their ears.

“I'll find you.”

× × ×

And find them she did, although nearly a week later.

It definitely wasn't her fastest work, but a lot had been on her mind since their little meeting at Seven. Not to mention the guys had done a pretty good job at not leaving much of a trace of themselves in the outside world. Unless you knew the right people to talk to, which she did.

Scarlett had been a little nervous when taking the rickety elevator down to the lower level of the apartment building they resided in. It's where she had been told they spent most of their time because it was secluded and away from the prying eyes and ears of those watching from Above.

Thinking back on it now, maybe she should've announced herself before waltzing into their glorified man cave. This thought came to her as she stepped off the death trap of an elevator, only to immediately feel the cool barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her head.

“Who the fuck are you?”

When she didn't answer right away, the gun was cocked as a final warning. The sound alone sent a chill down her spine, but she still released a huff as if annoyed by the hold up.

“Are all of you this paranoid?”

The gun was nudged against her head, his prior question silently being asked again.

“Scarlett,” she then answered, though the gun remained firm in place.

“Don't know a Scarlett.”

“And I don't know why I'm being held at gunpoint, yet here we are. Both of us confused.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jolly! Gun down!”

There was a rush from behind her and then the loaded weapon was no longer pressed to her head, but instead decocked and set aside based on what sounds she could pick up.

Bickering began to unfold, something about them explaining to him who she was a few days ago, him claiming he didn't remember, then a few soothing phrases and words were exchanged to calm the trigger happy man down.

Scarlett glanced back during the altercation, seeing that it was Nick lightly touching the guy's shoulder as another unknown male stood a bit off to the side. Noah was nowhere to be seen but that was okay. She was only popping by to show her face and obviously let it be known that they weren't super hard to track down.

“I'll send a carrier pigeon next time telling you guys I'm stopping by,” she joked once Nick was making his way over to her. “Maybe avoid a bloodbath.”

“I would say ‘sorry’ for him…but you are the one intruding. How the hell did you get past the locks, by the way?”

For a moment she was confused by his question, but then remembered the coded pin pads she had easily bypassed to even open the elevator doors. “Oh,” she waved the confusion off, laughing. “It wasn't exactly the hardest of programs to crack. You guys should probably get someone better to handle that for you.”

Nick squinted at her, his smile wavering. “I set those locks…”

Damn. She couldn't remember the last time she had truly been embarrassed, but this was definitely going to remain fresh in her mind for a while.

“Right…well…I'll have to give you some pointers.”

“What are you doing here?”

Scarlett smiled at his sudden change of topic. She found herself taking a slight step closer to him, pleased to be able to clearly see his eyes without dim or harsh lights drowning out the color.

“Not happy to see me, Nicky?”

Nick took in a deep breath, those eyes of his trailing her up and down unabashedly. “No…no…seeing you has definitely been a highlight…”

Grinning, she reached out to lightly touch his cheek, just before her eyes shifted to the guys lingering not far back.

“Are you going to introduce me?”

“Shit, right.” Nick cleared his throat, his body turning so he could carry himself closer to his friends. While Scarlett did recognize them from the shows she had attended, it was still best that he initiated the exchange of their names.

Did she already know them? Maybe.

“Scarlett, this is Jolly, and I promise he isn't as quick to pull the trigger as you may think.”

“Clearly, since I'm still alive,” she taunted.

“And this strapping young man is also Nick, but we call him Folio. So, yeah…this is Scarlett, the girl Ulrik told us about.”

Jolly scoffed as he examined her with what appeared to be great frustration.

“This little sparkle fairy is supposed to be the one helping us? My foot is bigger than her!”

“Sparkle fairy?” She repeated with a look of distaste for the term.

“I'm sure my foot can cause more damage too!”

Now this caused her eyes to narrow, jaw setting into a firm clench. What is it with men and their need to always underestimate her? Most of the time it didn't bother her too much because it typically worked out in her favor when they did, but sometimes - like now - it truly pissed her off. Here she was, offering her services and also her time, and it was unappreciated.

“Do you want to test that theory out? I have no issues with shattering every bone in your foot with my own goddamn heels.”

Jolly appeared taken back for a moment, but a smile then pulled at his lips and he was wagging his finger in her direction. “Never mind. I like her.”

“Same…but she's a little scary…” Folio murmured under his breath as he and Jolly led the group to a sitting area.

“Just some knowledge to place upon you,” Nick called out to Folio while dropping his hand to his shoulder. “All women are scary.”

This made her smile, another slight laugh leaving her. “I always knew you were the smart one.”

A few more steps and they were within an area that held mismatched chairs, rugs, and other random decor pieces. It was obvious that the guys grabbed whatever they could that was still in decent condition, and she didn't blame them. Sometimes it was the simple things that were hard to come by nowadays.

“No Noah?” She questioned as she dropped her bag onto one of the random chairs, this one being a deep green color.

“He said he was going down to the corner store but that was…” Nick glanced at the others, “maybe about an hour ago.”

“Well, I guess it's a good thing this was more a social call than actual planning. Pretty much just needed to see what - and who - I'd be working with.” Her eyes drifted between all three of them, lips pursed as she sized them up. Scarlett had a knack for reading people. Very rarely was she incorrect in her assumptions.

The point of her nail angled towards Jolly, slowly nodding. “I'm guessing you're the muscle, yeah? Good with weapons, intimidating, a pretty decent shot.”

Scarlett didn't give them a chance to respond before she was moving on to the next. Her focus fell to Nick, immediately giving him a sweet smile as she had done consistently now.

“The kind of guy that knows his way around tech…probably the smartest one in the room but doesn't like to show it…voice of reason.”

Their eyes remained locked for a long moment, though she looked away first before anyone could question it. The reddening of his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by her, though.

“And Folio…the wild card. Every good group has one. Never know what you're gonna do next, but it somehow always works out to be helpful.”

“Damn…are you psychic?” Folio asked, his eyes wide with awe for her little party trick.

Before she could reply, a different voice cut through.

“Guess that makes me the asshole leader.” Noah strolled in and paused a few feet from her. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting her know that he was trying his best to make himself look bigger. An intimidation technique, obviously.

“Arrogant, bossy, doesn't know when to quit…”

“The one who ends up getting someone killed.” Scarlett quickly snapped, her head whipping around to show him just how serious her expression was. “Not yourself, though. No, you're the one who gets to live with the guilt of his pretentious, pompous attitude being the reason a friend doesn't make it out alive.”

NICHOLAS

The room grew so quiet that he was convinced you could hear a pin drop. He was looking at Noah, at Scarlett, and then back to Noah, studying the way they now glared at one another. His best friend appeared as if he wanted to explode (verbally? physically? both?), but he was doing the best he could at holding onto his composure.

Flexing his shoulders backwards, Noah gave a single nod. Seconds later, he was disappearing to the other side of the room where he could slip through a typically concealed doorway that led to their makeshift studio area.

“I'll draw up a plan and see you guys in a couple of days, yeah?”

Scarlett was smiling again as if nothing had happened but he could pick up on the slight waver in her voice. That had him curious.

Unfortunately, she was gathering her belongings and strutting away before he could even stand from his seat.

“Hey, Sca-” Nick rushed to his feet to try to stop her, but she was gone. The sound of the elevator doors closing rang in his ears - a reminder that they really needed to fix that.

“Shit, she's brutal.” Jolly shook his head. “I still like her, though.”

Nick heavily exhaled while turning on his heel, now heading back the other way to where Noah had slid away. He found him sitting at the old, out of tune piano, lightly pressing random keys as if just testing the sound.

“Maybe I should just do this alone.”

That was the last thing Nick had been expecting to hear.

“Absolutely not.”

“No, Nick, she's right. I should've told Ulrik to 'fuck off’. It's my fault we’re in this, and I'm not going to let anyone else die because of me.”

Nick could sense how heavy those words were for him to say. He could hear it. He could feel it. They were all still mourning in their own way, though Noah’s preferences were a little more on the self destructive side.

“You've completely lost it if you think any of us are going to let you do this alone.”

Despite his statement being true, he couldn't bring himself to tell Noah that he was wrong for experiencing guilt and blame that he placed on himself. Things had happened in the past because of him. Nick figured it was best to not outright say this, though.

“Fuck!” Noah abruptly growled, his hands slamming down on the piano keys with such force that a couple remained permanently sunken in.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking understanding and loyal? Why can't you for once just tell me I'm a piece of shit? Huh, Nick?”

How the hell had this suddenly become an attack on him?

“I know you're thinking it. Jolly and Folio obviously are too. Shit, even your girlfriend read me like a fucking children's picture book.”

“What? Scarlett isn't my-”

“Obviously, Nick. A girl like her?” Noah snorted a laugh. “She would rip you to pieces.”

Nick stared at the back of his best friend’s head, since he had refused to turn around since their conversation began. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he swallowed every harsh word because he knew Noah would regret this by the next day. That's just how things went with them nowadays.

“Y’know, maybe Scarlett was right about some things. Your attitude will be your downfall.”

× × ×

The last thing he wanted right then was for Noah to be right. He refused to let that fucker wear a smug smile while muttering 'I told ya so’ to him. Why was he so quick to assume Scarlett would get the better of him? All because he was nice? Because he knew how to smile? Because he didn't need to be a broody asshole day after day?

Nick wouldn't let himself believe that.

Taking in a deep breath, he shook his hands out to rid the nerves, then he pressed the faintly glowing blue button on the outside of the door. There was nothing for a long moment, so long that he almost walked away, but as he was considering it, the door creaked open slowly.

“Nick? What…how did you find me?”

Not even seeing Scarlett’s face right then could calm him. Although, the fact that she recognized him within less than a second while he was wearing his mask did make his heart swell a bit.

“It took you how long to find where we were?” He cracked a slight smile. “Just had to show you how it's done.”

Even through her confused expression, he could see a smile threatening to appear and overtake her stoic demeanor. Nick was praying that meant she was at least a little happy to see him - invited or not.

He watched as she contemplated silently to herself before finally taking steps back and widening the entryway for him.

“Wait…don't go any further.” After closing and securing the door with multiple locks, Scarlett’s form rushed by him so she could begin pulling the curtains closed around the living room. The area darkened significantly, though he understood why she was being cautious.

“I'd rather not become Above’s nightly entertainment,” she explained once she was turning to face him, her arms loosely crossed over her chest in what he could assume was another one of her infamous defensive stances.

SCARLETT

Why was her heart racing right then?

Why was Nick in her home?

Why was he looking at her like that?

Before she could verbalize any of these questions, he was tugging the black mask off his head and shaking his fingers through his hair.

“You shouldn't be here…” she softly murmured, the nerves setting in. “It's not safe for either of us.”

Scarlett desperately wanted to tell herself to ‘shut the hell up’ because having him there actually felt nice. Her apartment wasn't so lonely for once. It was going to be a fleeting feeling and she knew this, but what was so wrong with enjoying it while she could?

Oh, right, the high risk of death.

Nick nodded in agreement, but instead of turning and leaving like she was expecting him to, he actually took fast steps over to her. His rough hands grabbed her face within them and he leaned down as far as he needed to, to force his lips hard against hers.

The shock of the kiss nearly knocked the breath out of her, but she was able to recover almost instantly before he got the wrong idea from her reaction. It took about the same amount of time for Nick to soften the claim his lips had made on hers. Scarlett wasn't going to let that slide.

As they engaged in their yet-to-be-broken kiss, her hands ran up along the length of his waist and over his arms where she could briefly grip his wrists. Since he had just come in from outside, he was wearing far too many layers that were used to shield him from the elements. So, she quickly went to work at ridding him of them.

First, his jacket was pushed from his shoulders, followed by the secondary lighter one he wore beneath it. Nick graciously helped her, eagerly tugging at the sleeves and tossing each article of clothing aside. She couldn't help but to smile against his lips since she found his excitement to be cute.

Scarlett released a slight sound of surprise as he gripped beneath her thighs and lifted her up into his arms, forcing her back into the wall. Her legs secured around his waist, pressing herself right against where she could feel the growing bulge in his dark jeans.

“Someone's excited…” she taunted, her breathing heavy after parting from the kiss. Nick’s lips were flushed red, pupils dilated as he stared directly at her. Her thumb swiped along his lower lip, gently soothing the tier from where her teeth had sunken in at some point. She swore she saw his eyes darken just before his lips were crashing to hers again.

Scarlett moaned, her fingers working back into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He must've liked this, because next thing she knew he was pressing himself firm between her thighs, grinding against her aching core. The sensation caused her to shiver, legs then tightening around him in an attempt to bring him in closer. Nick’s grip on her thighs embedded deeper and now it was his turn to break from her lips, just so he could begin trailing hot kisses along her neck and the front of her chest.

“Nicky…” she breathed out to gain his attention. That's all it took for him to detach himself from her skin, his bright eyes lifting to meet with her own. “I should probably tell you that I'm not looking for anything serious.”

The man she was currently wrapped around was sweet and she knew he had a good head on his shoulders, anyone would be lucky to have him, but these days…it wasn't that simple anymore.

His eye searched hers as he carefully lowered her back down to her feet, though he didn't move away from her. Actually, he pressed his body flush against hers, trapping her between himself and the wall. Scarlett smirked, her hands slipping beneath the shirt he wore so she could feel the heat of his bare skin.

“I know,” he nodded while his hand smoothed along her jaw and to the back of her neck. “That's fine.”

To her, that was a green light to continue.

Scarlett pressed up onto her tip toes so she could kiss him again, just before she placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed him back. Grabbing his shoulders, she guided him to the couch and forced him down into a seated position. Nick’s hands instantly attached to her hips as he gazed up at her with a smile, though his obvious desire for her was still present in his eyes.

Grasping his shirt, she pulled it off in a swift motion and tossed it back to be tended to later. Despite his hands eagerly beginning to lift the dress she wore, Scarlett sent a look his way that caused him to immediately stop, though his touch didn't leave her body.

“You listen well,” she taunted. “I like that.” With a lingering smirk, she gently nudged his hands away so she could slip her own beneath her dress, her panties being pulled down for her to step out of.

Nick watched her for a moment, but then began fumbling with the belt he wore, followed by the button and zipper of his jeans. He really was just so fucking cute. Most people she had been with in the past always tried to play it way too cool, making it appear as if they really didn't give a shit about what was happening. But Nick? Well, he clearly had no issue with showing his excitement.

Stepping back to him, her hands slowly ran up the expanse of his thighs. Nick took in a sharp inhale as she grazed the obvious bulge that was straining in his jeans, the reaction causing her to arch a brow.

“Sensitive?” Her smirk widened when he cursed under his breath but ultimately nodded in response.

Scarlett gently pressed the heel of her hand into him before her fingers began to massage his lengthening hard on over the fabric. Her eyes fixated on his face, joyfully watching the change in his expression as his hips bucked up into her palm and his brows knitted together.

“If I wasn't so eager to have you, I'd make you cum just like this…” she softly threatened.

Nick heavily breathed out at this, his frustrations quite apparent. She understood how maddening it could be because she was feeling it as well. The only difference was that she had a bit more composure than he did, though only because she had claimed the dominance between them. At least this time.

Hiking her dress up, she situated herself on his lap in a straddling position. She was lifted up onto her knees so she could further undress him, now moving faster than she previously had been. Scarlett dragged his jeans and boxers down as far as necessary, allowing his cock to spring free at full attention.

Then, she was positioning herself over him with the guidance of his hands, but she didn't yet drop herself down.

“You've been thinking about this since the moment you saw me at Seven, haven't you?” Scarlett hovered right over the swollen head of his cock, only allowing him to feel the heat her cunt radiated. His grip on her hips tightened in anticipation, jaw clenching from how she was dragging this out.

“I bet you've imagined how wet I'd be for you…how tight…what sort of noises you'd get me to make…”

Closing the space between them by only a few centimeters, she briefly shut her eyes when she felt the tip nudging against her soaked entrance. It took all of her self control to not just fully give in because Nick felt better already than even she had imagined.

So what if she had spent a night or two cumming around her fingers to the thought of him?

“Are you going to let me find out?” Nick retorted with a smirk of his own, his hips shifting slightly as he attempted to press up into her. He probably thought he was successful in this, but Scarlett had let it happen, both of them gasping in unison when the head of his cock buried further.

Leaning in, she began to kiss along his jaw as her hands shifted back to grip the top edge of the couch. She was slowly taking him in now, stroking herself up and down while engulfing his cock inch by inch.

“Fuck…you feel amazing.” Nick groaned, a twitch of his cock reiterating his words.

His fingers then flexed along her hips and she was suddenly being forced all the way down, his hips lifting simultaneously. A loud moan echoed through the room, easily drowning out the sound of his own groans. Scarlett bowed her head into the crook of his neck, heavily breathing from the rush of ecstasy that radiated through her. Her cunt tightly clenched around his throbbing shaft as she tried to quickly adjust.

Nick pushed the thin fabric of her dress up while they remained flush together so he could fully expose her body to him. One hand slid up her abdomen and between her breasts as the other returned to her hip, eagerly trying to guide her hips along.

It took a moment, but she was finally able to get her bearings and find a proper rhythm. Breathy moans escaped between them once she was sliding up and down his cock with a newly established ease. Each drop of her hips had the tip stroking along just the right spot, causing her to arch her lower back in a desperate need to feel more.

“Nicky…oh!” She gasped, her mouth falling opening and her hips briefly stuttering atop his. “Yeah, just like that…”

Scarlett nodded when his tattooed hands assisted in lifting her up and down, forcing her harder into his lap with every downward motion.

Tossing her hair aside, a hand released the back of the couch so she could grab his jaw. Nick’s eyes were forced up to hers where she held his gaze, just so he could see how fucking good he was making her feel. Something about the eye contact must've really done it for him, because his grip shifted back to her ass to keep her up so he could drive himself up into her aching pussy at a rapid pace. The action caused the entirety of her body to tense and her breath to stall, the pleasure nearly too much.

“I'm going to cum…” Scarlett again nodded. She dropped a hand between her thighs to begin rubbing her clit in fast circles, the act immediately drawing Nick's eye down. Watching him watch her, as well as the sight of his cock disappearing up into her petite body again and again, had her right there.

Only a couple of more thrusts from him beneath her and her cunt was erupting around him, briefly causing her composure to break. Scarlett had to latch onto his shoulder with her teeth to keep herself from crying out his name too loud - they couldn't draw too much attention. His arms circled around her waist to hold her in close as her entire being trembled and quaked with her orgasm.

Nails raked down his arms, involuntarily marking him before she even realized she had. Oh well. Maybe Nick liked the slight pain that came from it, though, because his own hips jerked after he demanded her pussy remain with his cock buried as deep as possible.

“Shhh,” she soothingly hushed him, a hand immediately flying up to cover his mouth to muffle all the moans and profanities he was now expelling. Despite the need to keep quiet, Scarlett whimpered at the sensation of his cum overflowing and spilling out between them, mixing with her own small mess she had made.

Once his body stilled, she slowly lowered her hand and instead covered his mouth with her own. They shared a desperate kiss, all eager tongues moving in sync with teeth clashing as they both tried to overtake the other.

“You good?” Nick mumbled the best he could, receiving a nod from her in response.

“Good.”

In a swift motion, Nick had her on her back across the couch and he was driving himself between her thighs again. She stared up at him with wide eyes for only a second, utterly shocked by his ability to go again almost immediately, until the over-stimulation of him thrusting into her spent cunt clouded her mind.

Scarlett suddenly didn't care anymore if her apartment neighbors heard them. Hell, she would rip her curtains down and let Above watch if that's what it took to make sure he didn't stop.

Propped up on one elbow, his opposite hand began exploring her body. He grasped her neck for a moment, then dropped down to knead and massage her breast that was bouncing with each forceful snap of his hips. Scarlett’s noises spoke to her approval because words were impossible for her to come by right then. The smirk he wore showed his enjoyment in the sounds she made for him.

Nick concluded his exploration when the pads of his fingers made contact with her swollen and overly sensitive clit. A simple touch made her hips twitch and attempt to retract, despite how good it felt at the same time. This didn't stop Nick, though. He sat up on his knees and pulled her in closer, driving in harder and faster while his thumb stroked her clit in time.

Scarlett writhed in ecstasy beneath him, hips rolling up to meet with his, before she was suddenly cumming again. Her pussy gushed and quivered through her climax, to the point that she thought maybe she would pass out from the intensity.

“That's it…you did so good.” Nick cooed, this being a side of him that was taking her completely by surprise. Had he not just been the more submissive between the two? Wasn't she supposed to be the one in control?

Too bad she couldn't focus on that right now because she was too busy watching his face contort as he released inside of her once more. Nick’s head hung at a downwards angle once his hips stopped spasming, the only movement from him now coming from the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He groaned and his jaw clenched as he slowly pulled out, bringing forth a pout from her due to the lack of being filled.

Sex had always been something Scarlett could go without for long periods, simply because there were always more pressing matters that needed tending to. Trying to survive was a daily task that took up most of her time, if she was being honest. But now? Well, now she figured she would have to drown herself in this job of theirs so as to not become carried away each and everyday she was around him.

“We can't tell anyone about this,” she spoke up first after catching her own breath.

Nick had shifted to the opposite end of the couch to regain normal brain function, his eyes settled on her. She wasn't sure how to read his expression, but he eventually nodded in agreement.

“I'm serious, Nick. It could jeopardize everything.”

Taking in a deep breath, Scarlett carefully sat up, her knees being pulled closer to her chest. He was then softly chuckling, head shaking at her comments.

“You should work on your pillow talk,” he teased. “I mean…my cum is still in you as you're telling me this has to stay a secret.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes, a decorative pillow soon being tossed his way once she had dislodged it from behind her back. “Shut up,” she demanded with a huff.

Nick smiled despite being well aware of how serious she was about everything. It wasn't like he was going to go back and gloat to the guys about what they had just done because Scarlett knew he wasn't the type. He may have surprised her a bit towards the end there, but that didn't change what she already knew about him.

“What about…?” He motioned between the two of them and their still fully exposed bodies. “Was this a one time thing?”

Now that was a question she didn't have an answer for. She knew what she should say but it definitely wasn't what she wanted to say.

“Let's just focus on keeping you and the others alive first.”

#noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #nicholas ruffilo fan fiction #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah sebasitan x oc #nicholas ruffilo x oc #dystopian au #motivation: diabolic

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blackinperiodfilms · 5 months ago

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youtube

Lady in the Lake — Official Trailer | Apple TV+

When the disappearance of a young girl grips the city of Baltimore on Thanksgiving 1966, the lives of two women converge on a fatal collision course. Maddie Schwartz (Natalie Portman) is a Jewish housewife seeking to shed a secret past and reinvent herself as an investigative journalist, and Cleo Johnson (Moses Ingram) is a mother navigating the political underbelly of Black Baltimore while struggling to provide for her family. Their disparate lives seem parallel at first, but when Maddie becomes fixated on Cleo’s mystifying death, a chasm opens that puts everyone around them in danger.

From visionary director Alma Har’el, “Lady in the Lake” emerges as a feverish noir thriller and an unexpected tale of the price women pay for their dreams. Based on the historical mystery novel Lady in the Lake by Laura Lippman.

#Lady in the Lake #Cleo Johnson #Moses Ingram #Maddie Schwartz #Natalie Portman #trailer #1960s #Alma Har’el #Laura Lippman #Youtube

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okasuka · 1 month ago

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Damian wayne X Reader - short story

Damian Wayne patrolled the shadowy streets of Gotham, the chilly air a stark contrast to the warm embrace of the city's neon lights. The night was young, yet the Dark Knight had entrusted him with this solitary watch. The quiet girl with short wavy hair, who sat in the corner of their classroom lost in the pages of comics or doodling in the margins of her notebooks, was the last thing on his mind. She was a stark contrast to the chaos that was his life—a silent puzzle piece that never quite fit into the grand narrative of the Wayne legacy.

But tonight, the quietude was shattered by a figure moving with unnatural grace across the rooftops. A figure that seemed to dance with the shadows, a silent acrobat weaving a deadly web through the city's criminal underbelly. It was the new vigilante they'd dubbed 'Arachnid'—agile and enigmatic, with a flair for dramatics that matched Damian's own. As Robin, he couldn't help but be intrigued.

Their first encounter was a blur of webbing and fists, a silent ballet of combat. Arachnid was cocky, taunting him with a smirk that seemed to dare him to keep up. Her eyes gleamed with a mischief that was surprisingly infectious. Damian found himself smiling behind his mask, the thrill of the chase a familiar rush in his veins. They fought side by side, their movements in sync as if they'd been partners for years, not mere moments. The night grew colder, the air thick with the scent of rain as they brought down a gang of thieves with an ease that spoke of a shared understanding.

As the criminals were webbed and left for the GCPD, Arachnid turned to Robin, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Not bad for a rookie," she quipped, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to resonate in his very soul. Damian felt his cheeks warm—his first compliment from a peer, and it was from someone who didn't even know his true identity. It was the start of something new, a bond that grew stronger with each nightfall, each new case they tackled together.

Soon, the whispers of their exploits echoed through the school halls, the students abuzz with tales of the dynamic duo keeping Gotham safe. Y/N remained the unassuming wallflower, seemingly oblivious to the buzz around her, her nose always buried in a book or sketchpad. But Damian couldn't help but watch her, his curiosity piqued. The way she moved, the way she talked—there was something eerily familiar about her.

As the weeks rolled by, Damian and Arachnid's relationship grew from a professional respect to something deeper. They'd share stories of their lives, their hopes, and fears—stories that made Damian realize how much he enjoyed her company. He found himself looking forward to the nights they'd spend fighting crime together, the adrenaline pumping through their veins as they worked in perfect harmony. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, that there was more to this mysterious girl than met the eye.

The revelation came during a particularly nasty rainstorm, when the Bat-Signal pierced the gloomy sky. They'd taken refuge in an abandoned warehouse, their costumes sticking to their drenched bodies. Arachnid's hood slipped, revealing those wavy locks, and Damian's heart skipped a beat. It was Y/N. His quiet, shy classmate, the girl he'd often overlooked, was the hero he'd been fighting alongside. Shock mingled with a strange sense of déjà vu as he stared into her eyes, now devoid of the mask that usually shielded her true identity.

The moment stretched taut with tension, the rain a cacophony outside. Y/N looked at him, her expression a mix of fear and hope. "Please don't tell anyone," she pleaded, her voice trembling. Damian nodded slowly, his mind racing. He had a secret of his own, after all.

And so, the truth lay between them, a fragile thread connecting their two worlds. They agreed to keep each other's identities hidden, allowing their friendship to blossom in the moonlit shadows of Gotham's streets. Y/N became a frequent guest at Wayne Manor, sharing dinners with Alfred and swapping war stories with Damian.

The nights grew longer, the stakes higher, but their bond remained unshaken. The air between them grew charged, their eyes meeting in silent understanding, and sometimes, something more. It was a dance they both knew well—the push and pull of attraction, the thrill of secrets shared, the comfort of knowing someone had their back.

One night, after a particularly grueling battle, they found themselves in Damian's room. The room, once a bastion of order and discipline, was now a mess of discarded gear and soggy clothes. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the cold, wet fabric clinging to their bodies. The scent of ozone from their battle mixed with the faint smell of rain outside. Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what he was feeling.

Damian felt his resolve crumbling as he took in her soaked form, the costume clinging to her curves, revealing the strength she'd always hidden beneath her school uniform. He knew he shouldn't—his father had ingrained in him the importance of keeping his identity a secret—but he couldn't resist. He stepped closer, his hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of wet hair from her face.

Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she looked away shyly. "Damian," she whispered, her voice barely audible. He leaned in, feeling the magnetic pull of their hidden feelings, the tension coiled tight within them like a spring about to snap. His mask was still in place, a barrier between their two worlds, but for a moment, he didn't care.

Their lips met in a fierce, desperate kiss, all the pent-up longing and confusion spilling over into a passionate embrace. Damian's hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss grew deeper, more urgent. Y/N's hand traced the line of his jaw, her touch sending shivers down his spine. They were no longer Robin and Arachnid, just two teenagers caught in the throes of first love, oblivious to the world outside their bubble.

The rain pattered against the windows, a soothing lullaby to the tumultuous emotions that swirled within them. They broke apart, panting, their eyes locked in a silent conversation. For the first time in his life, Damian felt vulnerable, his walls cracking under the weight of his feelings for Y/N. She looked at him with a mix of wonder and fear, her own feelings mirroring his.

Without a word, they stripped off their costumes, letting their true selves be seen. They curled up together on his bed, the warmth of their bodies a stark contrast to the chilly air. They laid there, hearts pounding in sync, sharing stories of their secret lives and the fears that came with them. For once, Damian didn't feel alone in his crusade. He had someone who understood, someone who was as much a part of this world as he was.

The conversation grew quiet, their eyes heavy with exhaustion. Y/N leaned into him, her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Damian wrapped his arm around her, feeling the weight of their shared secret, and the beginnings of something much more profound. They fell asleep together, the gentle rhythm of their breathing the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

In the morning, they'd face the world as Robin and Arachnid, fighting side by side against the darkness of Gotham. But in the sanctuary of Damian's room, they were just two teenagers discovering the complex tapestry of love and trust that had been woven between them. The threads of their shared secret had drawn them closer, creating a bond that not even the most skilled assassin could sever.

And as they slept, entwined in each other's arms, the rain outside grew gentler, the storm passing over them as if the city itself knew that a new chapter had begun in their lives—a chapter filled with excitement, danger, and the promise of something beautiful growing in the shadow of the bat.

#dc #dc fanart #dcu #smut #damian wayne #dc robin #dc comics

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yeolsaintlaurent · 1 year ago

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Nocturnal Reverie [PCY] ch.1

pairing - chanyeol x fem reader

genre - mature, smut, angst

themes - power imbalance, romance, crime, justice, class divide, politics, sex

synopsis - In the sprawling, dystopian city of Emberhaven, where power and corruption reign supreme, the lives of two unlikely individuals collide in a tale of passion, intrigue, and moral reckoning. Chanyeol, an enigmatic and wealthy scion of the city's elite, finds himself captivated by the elusive Y/N, a cunning and resourceful thief who navigates the treacherous underworld of Emberhaven. Their first encounter, sparked by a chance meeting in a luxurious club called The Velvet Lounge, sets the stage for a whirlwind romance amidst a backdrop of crime, politics, and danger.

warnings - none for this chapter

A/N - This is my first ever chapter from the series titled 'Nocturnal Reverie'. As the summary suggests, I wanted this story to be a commentary. Also a chance for me to write Chanyeol as this dark, mysterious hot dude who wants to change the world he was born into. Although his past should have molded him in a certain way (haha no spoilers), he develops a conscience and wants to be better and do better - which ultimately puts him on a path of justice. And what happens when he comes across a woman who he falls for, and who may or may not (again, no spoilers) bring up ghosts of his past. Has fate brought them together to team up? or will they be forced by circumstance and some harsh truths to fall apart. Who ends up pointing the gun at whom. Read on to find out. I'm not sure how many chapters this series will end up being (right now I've finished 5), but than you for joining me on this journey. If you love what you are reading - make sure to let me know!! Any and all feedback is appreciated.

Chapter 1: City of Shadows

In the heart of a city where dreams went to die, the sun's feeble attempts to pierce the persistent cloud cover were met with indifference. This place, known only as "Emberhaven" by its denizens, wore an air of perpetual twilight, as if the very sun had abandoned it.

The city sprawled, a tapestry of stark contrasts painted in muted shades of despair and dimmed hopes. It was a city where life unfolded in a slow, monotonous cadence during the day, as the weary residents trudged to their day jobs, shoulders slumped under the weight of mundane existence.

But when night descended, a transformation took place. The city's forgotten corners came alive with a vibrancy that defied the daylight's gloom. Neon signs flickered to life, casting a garish kaleidoscope of colors on the cracked pavements. Laughter, tinged with desperation, echoed through narrow alleyways as the nightlife claimed its dominion.

The city's inhabitants were a motley crew, each trying to navigate the treacherous terrain of their existence. The underclass, beaten down by the grind of their daily routines, had become intimately acquainted with the seedy underbelly of survival. For some, desperation had led them down the path of petty crime, a means of putting food on the table when honest labor fell short.

Yet, even amid the decay and darkness, a semblance of hope flickered. The city's denizens were not without their aspirations. In the face of adversity, they clung to dreams of better days, a glimmer of light in their otherwise shadowed lives.

The stark contrast between these lives of quiet despair and the city's high society was never more evident than within the boundaries of "The Velvet Lounge." This establishment, located somewhere in the city's heart, was a refuge and a revelry ground, a place where boundaries blurred and masks were donned.

At first glance, The Velvet Lounge was an unassuming venue, its entrance concealed within the jagged contours of the city's architecture. Passersby, oblivious to its existence, would never guess at the decadent world concealed within its depths.

Once inside, the ambiance was a paradox, an intricate dance between past and present, grunge and elegance. Smoke hung heavy in the air, creating a haze that cloaked the patrons in an air of anonymity. The murmurs of conversations blended with the haunting strains of blues music, filling the space with an eerie, almost mournful, melody.

The club was a haven for the city's weary souls, a place where the weight of their daily burdens could be momentarily shed. In the dimly lit corners, lost souls sought solace in the bottom of their glasses, their laughter mingling with the intoxicating rhythm of the music.

Here, the city's criminals mingled with the disillusioned working class, and the wealthy elite sought refuge from the hollowness of their opulent lives. It was a tapestry woven from threads of desperation and desire, a microcosm of the city's essence.

Chanyeol, a figure marked by piercing sparkling eyes and a physique sculpted through years of turmoil and work, entered the establishment as he had done countless times before. His hair was black matching his eyes and perfectly styled. His steps were measured, deliberate, as he ventured into the murky depths of The Velvet Lounge. In this shadowed sanctuary, he found respite from the relentless echoes of his father's criminal legacy, seeking a penance that eluded his grasp.

Chanyeol made his way to the bar, a realm presided over by Suho, the bartender known for his charm and the uncanny ability to discern a patron's desires with a mere glance. Conversation with Suho, as was the custom at The Velvet Lounge, was cursory and devoid of personal details. No one shared their real names within these walls, a precautionary measure born from the city's unforgiving underbelly.

As Chanyeol ordered a bourbon, his gaze roved over the eclectic assembly of patrons. The Velvet Lounge was a refuge, but it was also a theater of stories waiting to be told. Faces bore the weight of their personal histories, each wrinkle and scar a testament to the battles fought in the shadows.

Y/N, with her striking orange hair that seemed to blaze with an inner fire, made her entrance with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. She slipped into the establishment, a delicate storm in stiletto heels, her presence noted by the regulars who recognized her unique allure.

Tonight was different for her. Tonight, her target was not just any unsuspecting mark at the bar; tonight, her focus was drawn to Chanyeol. He stood out among the crowd, his build, his personable facial features and an allure that beckoned her with an irresistible pull.

With deliberate grace, Y/N approached the bar, her steps echoing the seductive rhythm of her high heels.

Chanyeol, absorbed in the haunting strains of a blues guitarist on the stage, seemed momentarily oblivious to the world around him. The glass in his hand remained untouched, forgotten as he surrendered to the melancholic embrace of the music.

Y/N, however, was anything but oblivious. Her gaze, like twin flames, fixated on the stranger beside her. She cast a sidelong glance, her eyes a bewitching blend of curiosity and mischief.

With a voice like smoky silk, she purred, "You seem lost in the music, handsome. Mind if I join you?"

Chanyeol turned to her, his piercing gaze locking onto her striking hair and the lure in her eyes. For a moment, the world outside The Velvet Lounge ceased to exist. He felt an inexplicable connection, a pull toward this woman who had entered his life like a tempestuous storm.

A wry smile graced his lips as he replied, "Lost is an understatement, but you're more than welcome to share the chaos."

Their conversation flowed with a natural ease, as if their words had been rehearsed in the cosmos itself.

As the night wore on and the blues guitar serenaded the lost souls, Y/N found herself drawn deeper into conversation with Chanyeol. Her voice was a seductive melody, her words carefully chosen to weave a web of intrigue around him.

"You know," she purred, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass, "this city can be a lonely place. But sometimes, when two lost souls cross paths, they find something they didn't know they were looking for."

Chanyeol's gaze remained fixed on her, his eyes locked onto hers as if under a spell. The music, the dimly lit surroundings, and the woman before him held him in a trance.

He chuckled softly, the sound laced with a hint of melancholy. "You're right," he admitted, his voice low and tinged with vulnerability. "Loneliness has a way of making the world feel a lot colder."

As Y/N leaned in closer, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his expensive trench coat, she continued to sweet talk him, her words dripping like honey. She had almost reached her mark, her fingers inching toward his wallet, when his focus suddenly shifted.

The blues guitarist on the stage had launched into a soulful solo, the haunting notes echoing through the dimly lit space. Chanyeol's eyes drifted toward the source of the music, his expression one of rapt absorption. He had his eyes closed and had a mildly scrunched expression on his face as if he was embodying the lyrics and the instrumental of the music.

Unbeknownst to him, the glass in his hand had been refilled more times than he realized. The bourbon flowed freely, blurring the edges of his consciousness. Y/N, sensing her cue, extended her delicate fingers toward his coat pocket, her touch feather-light.

But just as her fingers grazed the wallet, Suho, with an uncanny awareness of his patrons, intervened. With a subtle nod and a discreet gesture, he alerted Chanyeol to the imminent danger.

Chanyeol's hazy gaze shifted from the guitarist to the bartender, and then to Y/N. The realization washed over him like a sobering wave. He caught her in the act, her hand poised to pluck his wallet from his coat.

A flicker of surprise crossed Y/N's face as she met his gaze, but she quickly masked it with a sly smile. "Caught me," she murmured, her voice teasing as she withdrew her hand.

Chanyeol, now more alert, couldn't help but be intrigued by the audacity of this woman. He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, you certainly know how to make things interesting."

Suho, observing the exchange from behind the bar, couldn't resist a knowing smile. In The Velvet Lounge, where secrets were currency and connections were forged in the shadows, this encounter between Chanyeol and Y/N was just the beginning of a story that promised to unfold in the embrace of the city's night.

Y/N, quick on her feet and undeterred by being caught, decided to make her exit gracefully. With a sly grin, she tilted her glass just enough to spill its contents onto the bar, the liquid cascading toward a lit candle. The sudden sizzle and burst of flames seized the attention of both the men, their gazes snapping toward the unexpected commotion.

Candlelight danced wildly, casting flickering shadows upon their faces, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N became a ghostly silhouette in the chaos. Taking advantage of the distraction, she slipped away, her figure blending seamlessly into the dimly lit surroundings.

Chanyeol's hand moved instinctively to smother the small fire, but his eyes scanned the room, searching for the fiery-haired woman who had slipped through his fingers. She had vanished into the night, leaving behind only a trail of intrigue.

Suho approached Chanyeol with a knowing look. "She's quite the character, that one," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Chanyeol, still captivated by the memory of their brief encounter, couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, bro," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "I have a feeling I’m going to see her again.."

Suho raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "You seem rather taken with her," he observed.

Chanyeol's gaze remained fixed on the spot where Y/N had vanished, his thoughts a maelstrom of intrigue and longing. "There's something about her," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn’t ready to admit it, no not yet, but he wanted to see her again, maybe peel back all the layers and get to know her. The real her, who he had a sense of, may not be all that different from him.

And so, in the embrace of the city's night, the chapter closed, leaving behind the echoes of blues music, the flicker of candlelight, and the lingering hope of a chance encounter between two souls destined to be entwined in the tapestry of the city's secrets.

#--yeolsaintlaurent #nocturnal reverie #exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #exo smut #chanyeol x you #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol smut #chanyeol #chanyeol x reader #exo chanyeol #park chanyeol #chanyeol fic

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wickedsrest-rp · 9 months ago

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Name: Otis Querta Species: Bugbear Occupation: Podcast Host / Firefighter Age: 29 Years Old Played By: Lou Face Claim: Kiowa Gordon

"Remember dear listeners, the only difference between you and the monsters is motive."

Tummy troubles aren't just a human thing. Picky kids come in all shapes and sizes, even bear shaped. Though, in Otis’s case, it wasn't so much about what he ate but rather how he ate it. Other Bugbears reveled in the act of causing fear and consuming it. Even from a young age, most were gifted pranksters and powerful mischief makers. But not Otis.

Brenda and Patti found the bundle of fuzz and genuinely thought he was a weird little dog right up until he turned into a human baby. The two women felt a little out of their depths, but they loved their strange son. Because that’s what he was from the moment they found him on the ranch. The two of them did research, not finding much but finding enough to know what a bugbear was. It was odd. But so were they, Brenda was a horror writer, and Patti sold curios online. He fit right in.

Otis didn’t talk much throughout his adolescence. Finding his words only ever expressed on the page, or in a script. Loving the literary world his mothers had opened up to him. The podcast started as a way to fill his stomach. Human food worked well enough, but fear was the only thing that kept him sated. Kept the bear in line. Otis wanted to be a good kid, a good son. His mothers loved him no matter what. Even if it was difficult at times to figure out what he needed.

The good news was, the podcast did a wonderful job keeping him fed.

Tales from Beyond was a near instant success. At first just in small circles, then spread out far and wide. It was years before Otis ran into any issues, nearly a (or two depending on age) decade. The anthology series was set in a fake town with a seedy underbelly of supernatural crime. It covered the stories of all who lived there, all who suffered under the strange and horrific nightmares that plagued everyone within its hallowed borders. No one outside of Otis’s adoptive moms knew who the author was, which created a mystery and fear all its own. ARG style. Otis loved it.

Until writers block hit.

First thought was to get out of the house. Find inspiration with a bit of distance. Much to his moms’ chagrin, Otis set out to find a place of his own. Across the map, to a place that had originally inspired the strange town of his podcast. Only, instead of a vast city called Beyond, it was a sleepy New England town called ‘Wicked’s Rest’. Whisperings of this place had hit Reddit years ago, stories about how no one could quite remember what they experienced inside. But the horrors were beyond comprehension, the monsters unreal. Otis figured it would be perfect even if the stories were exaggerated but when he found them to be quite true? Well, that was even better.

Strangely, writer's block persisted. Even immersed in such an unnatural place. Otis couldn’t figure it out. His stash of money was running low, and getting sponsors on the show meant giving up his anonymity. So, he figured, why not get a job? There wasn’t much that he was really qualified for. Didn’t have much experience in anything but writing, and a very niche style at that. One thing he did have going for him was a near lack of fear. Something that would serve him well in the job he did find.

Firefighter.

Noble, exciting, would put him right in the heart of big emotional tales. Perfect, right? Even had a schedule that afforded him lots of time to write and lots of time to sleep. Except… shit, he still couldn’t bring himself to put words on the page. Half the things he wrote he hated, the other half was derivative and boring. He couldn’t stand to read them in his head, let alone to record and publish them. With the podcast still on hiatus, Otis was in dire need of a miracle. They could subside on the little bits of fear people gave off while being rescued but it still turned his stomach like sour milk. Fires were the best, as the helmet put at least some distance between the bear and the fear. But– But it wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t good.

The answer was born of a very, very, very dumb idea.

A little research into one of the stores downtown said they had something called a gossip stone. It had stories. He needed stories. Otis had grown desperate, and while the price tag was too much to pay, it was too perfect to not take. He wasn’t a thief. Not really. Had a penchant for sleight of hand magic cause of a childhood hobby, but this was different. It was necessary. Or at least that’s what he convinced himself. The store owner had a clear “NO HAGGLING” sign so it didn’t seem like a discount could possibly be ordained. So he stole it. Otis used the stories, just changed the names and locations a bit. No one would notice, how could they? It wasn’t like the podcast police were eyeing every strange stone found in a curiosities store. And it wasn’t like the stories could possibly be real. But it came with a price, as most things did.

The stone craved sentimentality.

At first Otis didn’t have a clue where to find it. But the stone had answers, because of course it did. Trinkets, little items, kitsch. Things people loved but wouldn’t necessarily notice if they were gone. The idea was planted, and Wicked’s Rest got its newest and probably strangest cat burglar, or, bear burglar as it were. Pockets went a little lighter, houses that left any doors or windows open found knickknack shaped holes in the dust on their shelves.

Otis wasn’t very good at it at first, but it had to be done, right? A bear’s gotta eat…

Character Facts:

Personality: Empathetic, gentle, patient, sweet, absentminded, shortsighted, possessive, timid, escapist, ritualistic

Has always gotten sick eating fear in person, doesn’t know why.

Was briefly in the running for Fat Bear Week a few years back.

Terrible at making illusions, but really good with words!! Unless it's in person…

Bear form is a Kodiak Bear, very huggable.

The only nice room in his apartment is the recording room. Everything else is barebones.

Is VERY particular about his routines, especially tea routines and pre-recording things.

Otis stole a strange artifact (that he calls a ‘Gossip Stone’) that gives stories in exchange for sentimental objects.

#retired

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narratorstragedy · 1 year ago

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latin american romeo and juliet “retellings” you should read

in reality these are just loosely inspired by romeo and juliet, but they’re both excellent either in the original spanish or in translation. if you’re a fan of shakespeare & tragedy & books that make you feel like you’ve been gut-punched, well. here we are :) forgive my inability to write blurbs! everyone thank the publishers!

brickmakers (ladrilleros) by selva almada (argentina), trans. annie mcdermott

If he could choose, he’d choose the two of them on the bike again. The hot wind in his face, the asphalt shining in the clear night. The feeling that they were masters of their destiny.

“Pájaro Tamai and Marciano Miranda, two young men, are dying in a deserted amusement park. The story begins almost at its end, just a little after the two main characters have faced off in a knife fight: the culmination of a rivalry that has pitted them against one another since childhood. The present in Brickmakers is a state of impending death, at moments marked by oneiric visions: Marciano is visited by the ghost of his father, who was murdered when he was a teenager, a father he had sworn to avenge, in a promise he could not keep. Pájaro is also visited, in a recurring nightmare, by his abusive father who disappeared years earlier.” (charco press)

the transmigration of bodies (la transmigración de los cuerpos) by yuri herrera (mexico), trans. lisa dillman

That was what he knew, how to effact set-in-stone truths. But he still had nothing to grab hold of in this tale of lonely deaths, nothing but pieces of lies. Solid lies, but lies nonetheless.

“A plague has brought death to the city. Two feuding crime families with blood on their hands need our hard-boiled hero, The Redeemer, to broker peace. Both his instincts and the vacant streets warn him to stay indoors, but The Redeemer ventures out into the city’s underbelly to arrange for the exchange of the bodies they hold hostage.“ (and other stories)

*please note: i obviously think both of these books are incredible, but they deal with & touch on very difficult topics. there is a lot of violence, abuse, and death, as well as some sexual content.

happy (not really. i cried at both books.) reading! :-)

#she speaks.l #i'm on my bs again.just thinking about them (fucked up characters fucked up stories)#spanlit posting #selva almada #yuri herrera #ladrilleros #la transmigración de los cuerpos #also like. the misogyny. my fear is someone will read these and be like but they're so misogynistic. like yes that's The Point they r about #societal expectations of masculinity. you know

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radioweb-district · 8 months ago

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Welcome to the Show!

In the bustling streets of a city cloaked in dangerous shadows, where every alleyway whispers secrets and every corner hides mysteries, two enigmatic figures cross paths, setting in motion a tale of intrigue, passion, and the unexpected.

We follow Alastor Dawson, a man of charismatic charm and an eerie aura that leaves those around him both entranced and wary. With a past shrouded in darkness and a present veiled in enigma, he roams the city with a purpose known only to himself.

And then we have Dante Salvatore, a figure draped in shadows and secrets, whose piercing gaze betrays the depths of his own tumultuous history. In the heart of the city's crime-infested underbelly, he navigates the intricate web of his own making, always watching, always calculating.

As fate weaves their paths together, a complex dance of attraction and intrigue ensues, blurring the lines between ally and adversary, friend and foe. In this strange world, where the supernatural meets the mundane, join Alastor and Dante on a journey through the shadows of their souls and of the world they reside in, where every twist and turn brings them closer to the truth—and to each other.

#RadioWeb #Welcome To The Show #Hazbin Alastor #Hazbin Arackniss #EnigmaticDuo #HumanAU #Mun Doods

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lazyvase · 6 months ago

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TMNT 2036

We Ain't Came To Lose

TMNT 2036 is my own personal iteration of TMNT. I chose the year 2036 because the distance between 1987 and 2012 is almost the same as 2012 and 2036.

No piece of TMNT media is complete without the Foot Clan. Seriously, I can't think of one iteration without the Foot Clan. So now we shall go over the heroes in a half shell's greatest foes (and especially foe).

Shredder

Now, you might have noticed that I tended to say Saki more often than Shredder in my first TMNT 2036 post. Well it’s because The Shredder has some big changes in this incarnation. Most importantly, “Shredder” is a mantle/title. Not an individual’s nickname. Whoever wears the helmet (the Kuro Kabuto) is the Shredder and the leader of the Foot Clan. This is inspired by 2003 having multiple Shredders, and 2012’s whole lore for the Kuro Kabuto.

Speaking of which, the lore for the Kuro Kabuto is lifted straight from the 2012 series, verbatim. Koga Takuza is the founder of the Foot Clan in my incarnation as well.

Oroku Miyoko

Over the centuries, many people held the mantle of “Shredder”. Most notably, Oroku Miyoko. Miyoko was wholly devoted to the clan. She had her son, Saki, train harder than anyone, so that the clan could have a future. Miyoko’s health was starting to waver, and her second-in-command, Hattori Tatsu, was not much younger than her. Saki was the only guarantee for the future of the clan.

Worse, the Foot Clan was an already dying clan. Previously, the Foot Clan stayed afloat through mercenary work and security. But it was the early 2000’s (don't quote me on that) in New York. Nobody was really looking to hire ninjas when you had intimidating mercenaries who could look at a potential robber and send them running. Instead, the Foot Clan had to resort to kid’s dojos and movie extra stunt work. Around this time, if you saw a movie where a stunt double had to fight off a bunch of ninjas, the Foot Clan were almost always those ninjas.

This did not stop the Foot Clan from sliding into irrelevance. And thus, Miyoko began to consider disbanding the Foot Clan.

Hattori Tatsu

Tatsu wanted more for the Foot Clan. The Foot Clan did not deserve to live in such pathetic and meager situations. He suggested they turn to organized crime. Miyoko disagreed, and soon the two were battling to the death. Tatsu won, and became the next Shredder.

By the time the series begins, Tatsu is still in charge, and is attempting to turn the Foot Clan into the most powerful criminal organization in New York. I say attempting because the Foot Clan is still kinda pathetic. It’s outclassed by most of the other gangs in the city. Especially compared to “Fishface” and their Purple Dragon goons.

Regardless, Tatsu will do whatever it takes to keep the Foot Clan the best ninja clan in the world. This was easy, for it was the only ninja clan in the world for a long time. Or at least it was until 5 individuals with clear ninja training started causing trouble in New York’s underbelly. He’s not sure who they are, where they’re from, or how they got their training. Nevertheless, Tatsu won’t rest until this potential rival is squashed, and he knows the perfect ninja for the job.

Oroku Saki

Oroku Saki, Miyoko’s son, was one of the Foot Clan's finest warriors. Growing up, he trained hard at her bequest. She and her second-in-command, Hattori Tatsu, often told Saki tales of previous Shredders and their heroism. He grew up thinking that the Foot Clan was the greatest ninja clan in the world (which was technically not wrong). His pride and love of the clan pushed him to become their greatest warrior at a young age, even surpassing his teachers.

Those jealous of his skill often joked that he only won fights because of his “good luck charm”: his pet rat, Splinter. In all fairness, Saki took Splinter everywhere. The two were inseparable. As close as man and rat could be.

Life was good for Saki. Sure, the Foot Clan was not in the most prestigious position, but he had his family, he had respect, and he had the heart of the beautiful Foot Clan archer, Tang Shen.

Of course, things change. His mother died. Splinter disappeared. All Saki had left was the clan and Tang Shen. Things grew complicated when Tatsu turned the Foot Clan’s attention to organized crime, as Tang Shen left with this change. Saki and Shen were able to maintain their relationship, even getting married. Though Shen continued to disapprove and warn Saki of his involvement in the Foot Clan.

Saki didn’t really care about the clan’s new direction. While crime tarnished the Foot Clan’s honor and dignity, it was necessary to maintain the clan. The kid dojos and background stunt work wasn’t going to cut it. Saki did whatever Tatsu asked, all for the Foot Clan.

His skill and loyalty earned his place as Tatsu’s second-in-command AKA “Foot Elite”. Saki would be responsible for leading the many missions done by the Foot Clan: drug smuggling, weapon smuggling, assassinations, and especially grand theft. The job was demanding, as the targets were dangerous, and the ninjas were incompetent. Still, under his leadership, the Foot Clan was a decent threat. Unfortunately, Saki’s skill was not enough to make the Foot the star player in the criminal underworld. That belonged to the Purple Dragons Gang, who were the clan's criminal rival.

[Pictured above: The Foot Elite from the Mirage Comics]

Saki’s life wasn’t all too bad, however. Soon, Tang Shen had their daughter, Karai. Saki once again had a complete family. This too, would not last.

When she was old enough, Saki had Karai become a Foot trainee. Shen did not approve. The two argued over Karai’s involvement for years. When Karai completed her training and was prepared to go on her first mission, Shen put her foot down and left Saki. The two divorced. Saki kept custody of Karai due to the Foot Clan’s interference. Tatsu saw Karai as the future of the clan, and so he helped Saki win the trial.

Unfortunately for Saki, it was all for nothing. Karai now wanted nothing to do with him after the divorce. She avoided him at every opportunity, which included no longer training with Foot Clan. She threw herself into extracurriculars so she could be too busy to participate. Thankfully, Saki respected this. But, he promised Karai that if she was not in any club, sport, or job, then she would have no choice but to go back to the Foot Clan.

At the beginning of the series, Saki is still the Foot Elite. He continues leading the Foot Clan on missions. I can’t really elaborate on what Saki goes through throughout the series without explaining whole plot threads. He goes through a lot of status quo shifts. But rest assured that he’ll get his chance to shine as The Shredder.

I will go over some general character stuff. Saki grows to hate Splinter personally due to jealousy. I mean in all fairness, imagine if you found out your pet rat was living a happier life than you. Splinter is a respected warrior, has a loving family, and is not divorced. Speaking of divorce, Saki is, as they say, “chronically divorced.” He’s on facebook or whatever posting things like: “Ex-wife? More like ex-strife!”

Oroku Karai

For my incarnation, I wanted to tackle Karai being Saki’s own flesh in blood. Most incarnations, that is not the case. 2003 Karai was adopted. 2012 Karai was kidnapped. The IDW comics have Karai be a distant descendant of Saki (close but not close enough). In all the other incarnations (to my knowledge), Karai isn’t even related to Saki. Even in the original Mirage incarnation, which is kinda crazy to think about.

Regardless, I was inspired to do this by the 2012 incarnation. In the season 4 episode “The Super Shredder”, Karai tells Saki that “[he] was never her father.” While this is a great moment and made good sense, it still felt rather easy. All that time and complex history just swept away. What if it wasn’t so simple. What if Karai really had to grapple with who Shredder was. With no amount of genetic distance to help her.

Thus in my incarnation, Karai is Saki’s biological daughter, plain and simple.

Growing up, Karai’s parents argued a lot. Not wanting to be home for them, Karai threw herself into any activity that would keep her from home. And there was only one option readily available to her: The Foot Clan. Karai devoted herself to the clan, unknowingly causing her parent’s arguments to worsen.

Karai’s time in the Foot Clan was nice. She was not only their best recruit (though that wasn’t difficult due to a lack of other recruits), but also one of their finest ninjas. She gained great respect and admiration in the Foot Clan, much like her father. Speaking of which, the Foot Clan allowed her to get close to at least one of her parents. However, the best part of the Foot Clan was that she got to spend time with her best friend, Shinigami. The two met in the Foot Clan, and became attached. The two would goof off all the time during training. Much to the chagrin of Karai’s father. But, despite her father, some of Karai’s happiest moments were spending the day with Shinigami, messing with the arcade machines the Foot brought in to try (and fail) to get kids to join the Foot Clan (1990s movie reference).

And then her parents divorced. The trial took a bit of toll on her. She couldn’t stand to be around her father, so the sanctuary of the Foot Clan was no longer an option. She stopped training, and she stopped seeing Shinigami. She instead threw herself into any and all clubs, sports, and extracurricular activities she could to avoid him. Eventually, she landed on hockey, where she met her new friend: Casey Jones.

At the start of the series, Karai is a generic popular girl, bully character. Once again, she takes great pride in where she excels and does whatever she pleases. She and Casey have a great disdain for April. While I don’t have a solid reason locked in yet I have two ideas. The first is that April exposed how the school was fixing Karai and Casey’s grades as they are the captain and star player of the hockey team, respectively. They could also see April as nosy and gossipy. Maybe both.

Once again, Karai goes through a lot of status quo shifts, so I'll go over her future another time.

Khan

He is there.

Ok. Now for the real character discussion. Khan is originally a 2003 character. He is completely unremarkable in his origin show. Just being generic bad guy second-in-command.

In 2036, he’s the Foot Clan’s weakest soldier. He mainly exists in the story to show how bad and incompetent the Foot Clan is. Despite his nonexistent skill, Khan has excessive pride and ego. This usually is his downfall, as his overconfidence leads to him being horribly injured. This is a reference (at least according to TMNTpedia) to the 2003 series as well (first line in the trivia section). Regardless, he’s kept on due to his undying loyalty, and the fact that the Foot Clan cannot afford to lose members.

He looks like his 2003 counterpart, except his hair is more of a mullet and his outfit is WAY less nice and fancy. He just dresses like a normal Foot ninja.

Keno

Keno has his long awaited return as a member of the Foot Clan. This is a reference to how in his debut he joined the Foot Clan to spy for the turtles. Though for my incarnation he’s truly in it.

He’s not a prominent character. But he serves an important role. The Foot Clan goes through many changes throughout the series, and I need a character who’s on the ground floor of those changes. We need to see how the average Foot ninja deals with these.

Keno is a young recruit of the Foot Clan. He’s more focused on hand-to-hand combat and similar martial arts. He saw the Foot Clan as a way to hone his skills, not knowing the depth of their operations at the time.

Keno and Khan form a sort of duo. As Khan is trying to show Keno the ropes. The problem being that Keno is already a better fighter than him by a mile.

Despite being a member of the Foot, Keno doesn’t hate the turtles. In fact, he has a lot of respect for them and their skill.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2036 #shredder #oroku saki #oroku karai

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haveyoureadthistransbook · 8 months ago

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The Melting Queen by Bruce Cinnamon

goodreads

Every year since 1904, when the ice breaks up on the North Saskatchewan River, Edmonton has crowned a Melting Queen--a woman who presides over the Melting Day spring carnival and who must keep the city's spirits up over the following winter. But this year, something has a genderfluid ex-frat brother called River Runson is named as Melting Queen. As River's reign upends the city's century-old traditions, Edmonton tears itself in two, with progressive and reactionary factions fighting a war for Edmonton's soul. Ultimately, River must uncover the hidden history of Melting Day, forcing Edmonton to confront the dark underbelly of its traditions and leading the city into a new chapter in its history. Balancing satire with compassion, Bruce Cinnamon's debut novel combines history and magic to weave a splendid future-looking tale.

Mod opinion: I hadn't heard of this book before, but it sounds like a really interesting story.

#the melting queen #bruce cinnamon #polls #trans books #trans lit #trans literature #lgbt books #lgbt lit #lgbt literature #genderfluid #magical realism #to read #fantasy

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helmort · 11 months ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑬𝒍𝒐𝒏 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒌⭐(Friday's Tale)

On the frigid morning of January 1, 2024, an ungodly hour past midnight, Elon Musk found himself knee-deep in the ultimate glitch. Picture this: London on the horizon, a pivotal conference at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m., and an unforeseen digestive apocalypse curtesy of some dodgy sushi. His plush ride turned into a war zone, and the richest, most powerful man on Earth discovered a new definition of rock bottom – he'd shitted himself.

The streets teemed with life, paparazzi sniffing for their next scoop. A crisis unfolded. Hotels, no refuge. Commerce, on pause. Jammed phone lines condemned him to the clutches of a dilemma only a laundromat could remedy. In the city's underbelly, he stumbled upon a humble establishment run by an Indian family. The scent of spices and incense masked the scent of Musk's misfortune, but a crowd of over twenty had already gathered.

Clad in a jacket disguising the wreckage below, Musk attempted to navigate the disapproving glares. Asserting his identity became the only way out. "I'm Elon Musk, and I need immediate assistance!" he proclaimed. The Indian proprietor, undeterred by celebrity, retorted, "I don't care who you are; you wait!" Musk cranked up the volume, "I'm Elon Musk, the CEO of Tesla and Twitter, and it's of vital importance that you…" the Indian, cut him off, "I'm Jagdish Patel, I don't give a bloody bloody who you are! You wait!" An air of tension thickened. Musk persisted, "It's crucial; I have a conference with the most important people on Earth about…" Patel interrupted again, "I don't bloody care! We're working since morning, and nobody on Earth cares about us, so we don't care about them!" Unyielding, Musk continued, "I can give you $1000 if you…" Patel shot back, "You can give me all the money in world, but you wait! This old woman is here for hours!" Anger boiling, Musk threatened, "You know!? I can pay somebody to kill you if you don't help me!" Patel, indifferent and powerful like Shiva in person, replied, "I don't care! I'm Indian; if you kill me, I reincarnate and kick your ass in another life!"

The dialogue hit a crescendo when two towering, Jamaican-accented men intervened, "Yo, yuh haffi wait like everybody else, or we mek yuh shit dat second time inna row!"

At the stroke of 5 o'clock, wearied by the relentless standoff, Patel apologized, "We're closing. Come back tomorrow, Sir." slamming the door on Elon Musk's face.

In the heart of London, the man who could launch rockets to space and redefine social media was defeated by a humble Indian and a touch of poop, a stark reminder that money can't buy everything.

💀

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tvmigraine · 1 year ago

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Phantala Syndrome: Prelude

The following is a written piece I wrote for some friends to help give them an idea of the "City of Mist" game I'm running. It's set in a city run by Disney and promoted to be idyllic, hiding a seedy underbelly of conspiracies and supernatural events.

You can read it below! Expect more as I write stuff for my players, or any other story that gets requested.

DISNEY CITY OPENS: WILL IT HAVE A FAIRY-TALE ENDING? Article by Bella-Rae Bellamy

After over ten years of demanding work, Disney Imagineering happily announced the completed development of their experimental community “Storyliving by Disney” towns. Originally unveiled back in 2022 and first accepting applicants back in 2027, Disney began construction in California of a city that would be staffed by Disney employees and cast members, with the goal of making audiences feel closer to their favourite properties than ever. Now, Walter’s Hope is open and has available housing for any members of the public to move. As the project as ends and the general public are finally able to access Walter’s Hope, it has become a haven for people looking for a second chance at life. With over 2,000 households, one Disney employee reveals a majority of their newest families have “been immigrants or veterans, people that need those fresh starts. It has been reassuring to know that they have found a place to just be their truest selves, where imagination can really be harnessed in ways they might have forgotten. Our founder, Walt Disney, always envisioned a world where we would all be able to let our creativity live hand in hand and he’d be overjoyed with the work we’ve done here.” One of the biggest selling points to Walter’s Hope is its hand-in-hand association with Disney, which can be seen obviously just in the sight of its familiar mouse-shaped landscape. It is two signature ears hold two of their main promotional districts themed after popular brands – the “Princess” District to the left and the “Villains” District, both holding a more regal landscape and Vegas-like attitude guaranteed to bring in tourists. Where there is smaller “Marvel” and “Star Wars” residential districts that offer their own pieces of excitements (and experimental exhibits you would expect from Disneyland itself), most people will find themselves living in the “Oswald Park” residential district, named after their long forgotten mascot Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Early settlers in Walter’s Hopehave already given raving reviews, with kids able to enjoy the excitements of an amusement park while parents get the comfort of a normal day-to-day life. One mother commented that other families “should expect to see a lot of kids around the area, riding on bikes and getting into trouble.” Walter’s Hope already made headlines when, early on in the project, the “Storyliving Lottery” was held and allowed five families to move into one of the five main districts. This sparked controversy when the original winner of the lottery was rushed to hospital shortly after moving due to what was officially labelled as a major gas leak. When asked to comment, a Disney reassured us that “this issue was a one-time situation. Every other house has been thoroughly checked and we can reassure all potential citizens that there is nothing to worry about.” But this may not be as reassuring as it first appears. Already, rumours and urban legends have begun to spread about Walter’s Hope, ranging from the sinister to the supernatural. While the crime rate has remained low in the early months, half a dozen disappearances have been reported in the poorer parts of their residential district, which houses many of the marginalised households. Along with that, reports have been made of Disney’s attempts to cover up underground constructions of alleged tunnel systems beneath Walter’s Hope. Any attempts to receive an official comment from Disney affiliation was ultimately declined. All this raises the question, is Walter’s Hope the picturesque fairy tale city that we have all been led to believe? Or should the public expect to hear more bad news in the future about Disney’s long awaited experiment? For more information, or your own booking, go to storylivingbydisney.com/residency/walters_hope and go from there.

~~~~~~

Fireworks lit up the skies of Walter’s Hope, their grand official opening already going just as planned. For many families they were already settling into their homes, getting themselves to bed or mingling with neighbours as parties were starting to take up the streets. The two leading districts were seeing what’d be the most business they’d come across, as men and women partied, drank, and gambled away their money either on games or knick-knacks that’d be thrown into a bin only a week later.

For many, they were enjoying their second chance.

Simon was enjoying the cool breeze before he’d have his head cut off.

Was it petty that the only ting that upset him was the blood splattering his suit? He’d had it custom made by the finest tailor in the city, hair brushed just perfect to make it clear to everybody who had the power, who was in charge. All of that felt rather meaningless in his current state – his hair, formerly neatly parted and travelling down his back, now had chunks missing out of it where he’d grappled with the thug that’d attacked him. The blood splattered across his chest where his arm had been broken, nearly torn out of its socket before it was instead slashed at with a disc-shaped blade. Funny, he thought to himself, I’d have rather liked getting my hands on that.

At the end of the pier leading to Monstro Lake, Simon Gaskill was on his knees with the biker still standing over him, his knife in hand. Behind him, Simon could see someone walking down. She’d just gotten out of a black car, she must’ve been behind this. Somebody else after the Throne, maybe? She wore a tight blue dress over a plump frame, covering her face from view with a large-brimmed hat. It was hard to make her out, but she had the look of somebody in charge, somebody that’d grown docile from being at the top of the food chain. Simon couldn’t resist smiling, maybe he could tear her apart in a moment. He just needed the right opportunity. Then when he got home, he could eat whatever he hadn’t torn off of her body.

“Step away from him,” she instructed the biker. He dutifully listened. Good, Simon thought, an even better opportunity.

“You’ve been rather a pain, Mr Gaskill,” the blonde woman told the man as he remained kneeling. He couldn’t undo the ropes around his wrists, she found that to be reassuring. In the few short months that Simon Gaskill had been here, he’d made a reputation for himself as a man eater, hardly a cannibal not someone who’d refrain from the taste. “Several of my men have come back in more than one piece and, I can’t help but notice, it’s been happening in some of my district. Care to explain that.”

Gaskill shrugged, smirking playfully as he told her “Maybe they were mistaken.” He had that hunger in his eyes, like a starved animal. The woman sighed in disappointment. “You are well aware of our agreement. Your people remain in your district…” Her hand landed on his shoulder, her thumb digging into the wound the biker had left. “And we remain in ours.”

Simon hissed in pain, her touch was as cold as ice and the wound was chillingly worse for it. He yelled at her, “Then how come your men are trying to come to my area! You say you want to honour our agreement but don’t think I can’t tell what you’re doing. Whoever you are, digging into my territory? There’s trouble coming for you.”

The woman looked at him in confusion. “Your territory?” She asked curiously, shaking her head. “No, no, that can’t be right. That territory belongs to whoever is in charge, truly, of the Villains District and you? Well, you’ve been voted out.”

Gaskill had to hold himself back from shooting to his feet. “Excuse me?”

“It’s very simple. You broke the rules you agreed to, so the rest of your little crime ring simply voted you out.”

“I’m their Caesar, they can’t do that to me!”

“Oh no, they can,” the woman corrected. “It was a rather simple process and while there will be a power vacuum for the time being, no doubt another dirty little snake like yourself will fill that space. You have a talent for that.” She crouched down by Simon, putting on a mocking face of pity. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you not there for that meeting?”

Simon growled in fury. Not like a man who’d just had his life, his empire, snatched away from him, but like a wild animal that’d managed to break into another animal’s enclosure. His face was distorting to reflect that as a muzzle pushed out from his face, his bones cracked and breaking into place. His teeth became jagged as he lunged. With a speed that was unrivalled by many, he sunk his teeth into the woman’s shoulder. He’d aimed for the neck, but her scream of pain showed that he hadn’t focused properly enough to get where he wanted. He pulled his teeth out of her to try and lunge again.

The biker struck first.

With a single upwards slice from the disc-shaped blade, Simon Gaskill was struck dead on the end of the pier. His body tumbled off the end and landed in the waters of the lake, floating motionless as the red spread around him.

The biker moved to the woman, but she just yelled at him, “Get off of me, you idiot!” She held her shoulder for only a moment before feeling ice starting to spread across it sharply. “Damn it, gloves, give me my gloves!” She demanded from the biker, who quickly obliged. She put on the soft velvet and moved to the end of the pier, staring at the lion-faced body.

“So much for ‘Long Live the King’, I suppose,” she openly mused. The biker remained silent to her disappoint, it was more fun when there was someone willing to talk about her plans, especially when one was going so well. She held her shoulder as it bled, this could be dealt with soon. “Now we merely leave the dogs to tear themselves apart,” she openly mused, “and we’ll have the whole of Hope to ourselves. And you’ll be rewarded handsomely, I can promise.”

The biker remained silent, causing her to huff childishly. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to show some admiration,” she grumbled. He merely gestured back to her car, as if to hurry along. The woman nodded and told him, “I will return to my castle. You know your next mission and you will not return to me until you find that boy. This will all be for nothing if somebody gets to him before me, do you understand?”

The biker nodded, placing the ring blade onto his back. She nodded and made it back to her car, while he travelled to his bike. They sped off in opposite directions but both heading towards the same goal.

Simon Gaskill’s remains would go nowhere, except aimlessly floating deeper into Monstro Lake. If he waited long enough (which a corpse was very good at), he might even chance an encounter with the creature itself.

~~~~~~

In one week, the first child would be reported missing.

A few days later, the second child would follow.

The third child would be unique. Unlike the last two that had been snatched when their parents weren’t looking, Max Kingston would get on his bike at midnight and run away from home without saying a word. When his parents went to find him in the morning, they found a single note on his bed as a clue to find him.

#phantala syndrome #city of mist #original writing #disney #my writing

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