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miss-vanta-likes-to-write · 2 days ago

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○Chemical Burn●

○Hazardous Materials (pt1)●

Master list has all warnings. 18+

You felt drugged and high, almost like the time Avarice had brought back weed and some silly little pills for you to try two summers ago. The inside of your mouth is dry, and it tastes terrible. Limbs too heavy to move, eyelids too heavy to lift open, the world around you seemed like it was submerged into water. The surface you're laying on is cold and hard, and when you try to make a noise, you're shushed, and someone presses their lips to your temple. They smell like honeysuckle, fresh grass, and clean water. It smells like home.

You hear a muffled, far away voice, "She's healthy through and through. Well taken care of Captain Price." It's a male voice, it's cold and clinical, "we did find cycle control in her systems in large quantities. Her heats are probably short and not as potent. We can flush her system, but it will take at least two weeks to get her back on track.”

"What about that other thing we talked about?" A low gruff voice asked. They don't sound too happy, maybe a bit concerned. "We don't want her freaking out when she wakes up.”

"Some calming meds will be provided," Cold and clinical sighs, "I'll send you home with enough to make sure her body is cleared up for the lactation meds, it'll take maybe three weeks for milk to come in. For now, though, she needs to stay another night for monitoring and vaccines.”

"Did you hear that bonnie girl?" The honeysuckle scent is strong and pressed right up next to you. The voice was chipper and bright, "We'll get you home and get you settled, introduce you to the pup, it'll be right as rain.”

A trace of fear spikes through you, and the sound of a heart monitor picks up. Breathing becomes difficult, and your body still feels like lead, the voices around you still distant. Then, the sensation of warmth engulfs you.

"There we go." Cold and clinical speaks again, "She's still worked up, gave her something to keep her calm.”

An unwanted and foggy sleep settles over you despite your struggle to open your eyes.

○●

When Johnny first saw her, he was starstruck dumb. She was pretty, smelled like flowers and soil, with a spritz of fresh air. She was plumper than most omegas, and she just had this quality about her that pulled at his heart. His mother had been dead for years, his birth pack scattered in the highlands, all of them plus him had the same earthy scents, wildlife and sweet, so his darling omega that smelt like wild clovers made him feel like he was home with her. She's got tan skin and a smattering of freckles across her face with bright brown eyes. She was pretty and sweet and smelled like clovers in bloom…well once he got past the scent of fear and aggravation. Her name was Alicia, and it matched her perfectly. He thought it matched her perfectly, and he just knew that they were deeply in love.

“Bonnie Bunny, a little kiss, please?” He laid in her nest with her. It's soft and smells like the five of them, a mish mash of scents that worked together. Soft pink blankets and pillows and plushies, lace and silk twisted together. She's being a brat and won't face him outright, so he traces his fingers across her growing belly. Pointer finger skimming over her outie belly button and feeling their pup move about just under the skin, the lightning patterns of stretch marks makes him smile. “Come on, Bonnie Bunny, please just one?” Soft lips pressed against the nape of her neck, and she flinched and turned to face him. Her gaze is glassy with tears.

“What is it, Johnny?” There's a trimmer to her voice, “I'm tired.”

“I know, Bonnie Bunny. You're doing such a good job growing our little guy.” He doesn't raise his voice at her, not since she started showing, and certainly not after the doctor said that she's been having issues due to stress. “I love you.”

She doesn't answer right away and instead chooses to trace the scar on the side of his head. Like always, she traces the raised scar tissue and furrows her brow, “It's amazing how you survived, and yet here I am…” She murmurs.

Johnny laughs, tries not to be so loud, “It takes a lot more than a bullet to the skull to kill me.” He nuzzles his nose into her scarred scent gland. The teeth marks match Price's perfectly, similar to his own mark. “Don't worry, I know it's difficult, but we're keeping you on bed rest, so there should be no more accidents.”

His omega doesn't say much more and closes her eyes.

“One kiss, Bonnie Bunny?” He whines, “Just one.” He invades her space and presses his lips against hers. He's not rough like Simon or sly like Kyle or even demanding like Price, so she should want to kiss him. He's gentle with her, ignores her flinching movements, and hums when she inevitably kisses back.

He pulls away, a love sick grin on his face that's so dopey.

The door to the basement clicks open, and it's Price at the top of the stairs, “Johnny, get up here, we're back, and the nursery won't paint itself.”

“Go.” She burrows into her blankets, turning away from him.

It takes a moment, but Johnny gets up and goes up the stairs to Price. The basement door shuts, and the click of the lock sounds like a gunshot.

○●

The basement is the second softest space of the four story townhouse. The stairs are covered with thick deep green plush carpet that leads all the way down to the large room. The walls are all a pretty light cream color, a gorgeous mural of flowers on the wall serves as the accent. The ceiling is painted sky blue with clouds. Fake ivy and leaves hang from the ceiling along with white and colored fairy lights. A dressing table sits in the corner, a soft off white antique set with a mirror lined with lights and a matching stool. A projector hangs from the ceiling and it faces the plain wall, in front of it a fluffy rug with piles of pillows.

The bed sits the farthest from the steps. Large enough to fit six people, covered in soft silk sheets and fluffy duvets. The duster is a soft cream color with lace trim, and it matches the blankets and pillows. It's a four poster bed that John built by hand, sheer curtains that had stitched on flowers, butterflies, and ladybugs. Strings of soft warm lights wrapped around the rods that hold the curtains. The bed, like all of the furniture, is bolted to the floor. Even the mirror above the dressing table is shatter proof. The basement has a bathroom, a simple half bath and there's no mirror above that sink. It was taken down and for safety purposes, never put back up.

It's where their omega will go and Johnny takes pride in keeping it stocked with everything their omega would want. He's giddy again, hasn't felt this whole and completed since they scattered Alicia's ashes three weeks after she passed. Now though, they were given a second chance to make it all right and do it right again. To have something soft and sweet with them, to give Atlas the mother he deserves.

The first thing he does is wash all of the sheets and open the vents and turn on the air purifiers. Their new omega will be home soon and he wants her room perfect. Good clean air is good for omegas and pups and they do their best to make sure it stays that way.

First impressions and all that.

“Johnny boy.” Simon's weight can be heard on the steps, he doesn't have to do that but he does to be considerate. He's carrying a box filled with clothes, all brand new to replace the ones that their old omega had. The box thuds softly against the carpet when he drops it. A layer of dust floats up and Johnny huffs indignantly, mumbling about having to vacuum really well. Simon ignores him and starts hanging up the clothing. “Price went to the hospital to get her and Kyle.”

“Is she awake?” He is excited as he moves about the room.

“Woke up in the middle of the night kicking and scream’n. Kyle said they had to sedate her again.” He doesn't sound too thrilled, “She's gonna be trouble and I don't want that around Atlas.”

Johnny hums and walks over to Simon, he stands close to his alpha and hugs him from behind. His hands slide up and clutch his chest and he presses his nose into the center of his back, right on his spine. “It's an adjustment period.” He whispers, “She'll learn to love us.”

“You're only saying that because she's less likely to be scared of you.”

It's quiet between the two of them. The only sound is Simon putting clothes on plastic hangers and setting them on the clothing rack. It's not much, just ten dresses, all of them soft pastels, silk or cotton, with very few adornments.

“I don't think Alicia loved me…or any of us. Or else she wouldn't have done what she was trying to do.” Johnny mumbles, “I tried though, I tried to get her to like us or at least not hate us so much.”

Simon doesn't say much and chooses to stay quiet. He isn't wrong, they all tried their best to get Alicia to bond with them and no matter what type of hormones they gave her or no matter how many times Price tried to correct her behavior, the stubborn omega wouldn't budge. Simon remembers her screams from when she went into labor.

Ragged, rage filled, hurt, watery with tears. Begging for her mom to hold her.

“This one though? I know she'll be different. I can feel it, Si.” He squeezes him and merrily gets back to cleaning. Johnny whispers to himself, repeating like a mantra to self soothe the words-

She will like us. She will love us. In that order. Always.

○●

‘Wake up Sweetie. Mom's got more of those butter mints and they are orange creme flavored. You know she only makes those for your birthday.’ Anansi speaks around a mouthful of candies. It isn't atypical to see him stuff his face with fun flavored candies.

You watch as he opens his mouth and instead of his perfect white teeth, you see blood spilling around the pastel orange mints. Bright red in color, his skin pale and burned, littered with bruises.

‘Anansi?’ You whisper in shock, ‘brother are you okay?’

‘Sweetie, wake up now. You won't get any mints if you stay asleep.’ He shovels another handful into his mouth, grinning like a loon. His eyes aren't bright anymore. ‘Come on now. You like these mints, and they always make you feel better.’

‘Fuck the mints! What's going on?’

‘Wake up Sweetie. You gotta wake up.’

You scream, but your mouth doesn't move, and Anansi just smiles at you. The soft crunch of teeth against mints fills your ears, and you want to help him. There's so much blood, and he doesn't move to reach out for you. Instead, he shakes his head and drops the never-ending bag of butter mints and mouths for you to wake up.

Your eyes shoot open, and you're thrashing about trying to break free of your restraints. Arms, wrist, torso, and legs strapped down to a bed. This is the first time you've been fully awake. White sterile walls greet you, and the air smells of antiseptic and harsh cleaner. The air purifier and AC units run at full capacity, a constant hum that exists just below the rapid thrum of your pulse racing in your ears.

The last thing you remember was a sharp pinch and sleep. You look over to your right and see an IV drip bag, it's tube hanging and trailing to your arm, a small table next to you holds vials and syringes on a tray. The heart monitor picks up with its beeping as your panic sets in.

You're fucked. Utterly and hopelessly fucked. You were taken and brought to a city. Far from home, far from your pack, far from the pink house.

“Hey Dove, you're okay.”

You whip your head towards the sound of the softest voice you've heard in a while. He's tall and lean, brown skin, a bit of facial hair. Bright brown eyes and for a second they remind you of Avarice’s eyes. The man smiles and approaches you slowly, “I know you're scared Dove, but you're safe now.”

You obviously do not believe him. You don't speak and turn your gaze towards the ceiling, no longer having enough energy to hold your head up to look at him. He doesn't mind the silence though and fills it in casually with an introduction.

“Name’s Kyle, we rescued you from that encampment and got you the needed medical attention.” The scrape of a chair can be heard and he sits next to you. “Doctor says you're in good health. A rare find out in the bush.”

You stay quiet and it's only the rapid beep of the heart monitor.

“Now none of that Dove.” He whispers and brushes his fingers against your cheek. “I'm amazed that you survived out there. The doctor gave you the go ahead to come home, just waiting for John to sign you out.”

You didn't say anything, your mind racing with ideas and plans to escape. You sigh deeply. “I rather you had shot and killed me.”

He's almost patronizing and sweet, grabbing your hand, knowing you can't pull away from him. His touch burns through you in the worst way. Those brown eyes are like tar pits and his smile is as sharp as broken sugar glass. “Dove, don't say things like that. I'm sure that things will be better than living in that shanty town you were stuck in.” He tightened his grip just slightly, tilting his head to the side, “now no more of this.”

He lets go as soon as the door opens and standing there is the man with the ugly bucket hat and mutton chops. The man who had been with the doctor back in the burning rubble of the shanty town checking captives for defects. His blue eyes seemed warm and he smiled but it was the same smile that Kyle had given you. “You've got a clean bill of health darling.” He approaches the bed and pats you on the leg. In his left hand is a gift bag, “Something nice to go home in.” He sits it on the bed. He seems pleasant and polite, but his eyes don't match the rest of him. They are so blue, blue as the deepest and darkest waters you've seen in your travels. An uncomfortable shiver races up your spine, his gaze freezes all of your thoughts and damn near makes your breathing stop.

The doctor walks in breaking the spell that this predator of a man has on you and he doesn't even bother acknowledging you. “Captain Price, she's ready to go home, I'll give her a parting gift to keep her calm.” He pulls a syringe out of his coat pocket and preps the IV line in your arm for another dose of whatever is in those vials. “The charge nurse is wrapping up the rest of her meds. Check up in three weeks, house call.”

You watch in horror as the clear liquid gets pushed into the line. “Wait- what?” You speak again, and slur your words. Whatever it is, is quick acting. The restraints are unlatched and Kyle helps sit you up. You've got no control of your faculties and slump forward, the cold air hits your naked body and goosebumps sprout on you.

“You're going home Dove.” Kyle chuckles.

“Where are my clothes? My veil?” Even as you beg and try to get your arms to move on their own to cover your breast, they feel too heavy. Kyle only clicks his tongue after leaning you up against the head board. From the bag he pulls out the outfit that was brought for you, a light blue and white gingham sun dress. After he pulled out a pair of flats that matched and a matching head band with a bow. The first thought in your mind was- ‘This is a nightmare, and my hair is uncovered’.

“Get her dressed up, Kyle.” John hadn't stopped staring at you or rather through you.

They didn't even give you the dignity of a bra.

○●

The town house they took you to was idealistic, pretty, large and haunting. The front facing windows only reflected the street and folks who passed by. The little bit of grass was meticulously groomed and flower beds that matched. It was too perfect for the city that was Paradise. To get here they had to drive through crowded streets and dingy over crowded and dirty roads. People with respirator masks moving about. Once they passed through a set of electric gates, everything changed, there was green space, flowers hanging from lampposts, the sight of children. It was all too perfect.

Even worse was the fact that when you entered the house the first scent she smelled was powder.

Baby powder and instant milk.

Under it was the scent of the house and its inhabitants. Honeysuckle, fresh grass, and clean water stand out the most and though you are still drugged, being held up by Kyle, you relax at the scent of another omega in the house. There are other strong scents, leather and tobacco, black tea and lavender, and next to you directly after Kyle sets you down on the couch, you're met with citrus and rose.

“I'm glad to be home, the scent blocker was killing me.” Kyle says as he peeled off a flesh toned patch, the citrus and rose grew stronger. “We never did get your name Dove.” He tilts his head, “Sorry about that, forgot through the excitement.”

You don't answer and just look around the living room. It looks like men live here but there are soft touches of color and soft blankets and pillows, just in drab dark colors. You're on edge and shiver from the cold in the house. Out of the edge of your peripheral you catch movement but it's quick, the soft sound and crackle of static and a shrill cry coming from a baby monitor.

You've heard stories about this type of practice. Packs of alphas that take omegas for themselves when there are pups but no nursing mother. Forced bonds, forced lactation, forced motherhood and drugs that help create false realities. Your mother and father have said to have seen it worse with strange packs bonded through, unconventional means, and it only grew with the population crisis through the years.

“Sweetheart.” John is suddenly in your space, his calluses fingers gripping your chin to make you look at him. “What's your name?”

“I'd rather eat a handful of salt.” The sound of your words wobble and it comes out hoarse from lack of use. John's lips twitch up and his beard follows it. It's a thin smile and while he smiles his eyes are hard set.

“I won't have that type of attitude around our boy Sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that.”

“Then what's your name?” He more or less demands. He's a man used to getting his way.

Instincts tell you to submit out of survival but you are your mother's daughter and your pride will be the death of you.

“You should kill me you sick fucks.” You spit at his face and the glob of spit that you worked hard to make stains his cheek. You're aware that you hear Kyle gasp and another person off to the side out of your line of whimper. Your focus is on John, the obvious lead and watching him slowly wipe his cheek. It happens quickly, pain lancing through the drug induced numbness of your neck, a hard grip as you're pushed into the sofa. Neck forcibly bared to him and his teeth that are close to your virgin scent gland. The fight springs up in you instantly and you thrash, scratch at his hands and leave marks.

John whispers, and even though you can spy the scent patch on him, the rancid scent of anger comes from him, “You get one tantrum Sweetheart and you just wasted it.”

It's a stalemate and neither of you move, eyes locked onto each other. It's Kyle who places a hand on John's shoulder and tugs gently. He looks understanding and a bit concerned, but mostly just worried.

“John, no need to get worked up, she's just scared is all.” The look he gives you says for you to agree and despite the overwhelming urge to spit in his face too, you nod.

The tension eases and his grip on your throat lessens as he gets off of you. Those blue eyes stay tracked on you, a silent warning to not do anything that would cause an issue. After another tense moment he turns and grumbles to himself under his breath, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Bonnie Bunny!” The honeysuckle scent is bright with excitement, the twinge of worry finally gone. The omega it belongs to pulls you into a hug. He gives no chance for escape and even though you don't know him, he scents you and kisses your cheek. “It's so good to have you home!”

“Johnny love” Kyle laughs and shakes his head, “Don't overwhelm her, she's still somewhat drugged up.”

Johnny chuckles and gives you another kiss, closer to the lips this time. You pull away a bit, a scowl on your face and brows furrowed. It's no laughing matter that your body is still heavy from the drugs. A good glimpse of him shows you exactly where he is in the pecking order of this pack. There are dark hickies covering his neck and his scent gland has teeth marks on it. He's their bitch, and from the looks of it, he enjoys it.

The disgust that rolls through you can't be hidden but he sees it as something else. Probably fear still, which isn't wrong, but the idea of a fellow omega going along with this? Insane.

“I wouldn't dream of it!” He has no concept of personal space, his fingers going right to your hair and twisting his fingers into your coils. “A nice shower should help get the hospital smell off you.”

You hiss and flinch away, “Are you calling me dirty?”

“Never!” He tugs at your hair a bit, just getting a feel, “Just saying that you smell like hospital. Back when we saved you, you smelt like different. Nicer is all.”

The cooing from the baby monitor catches your attention again and the reality of what this is sets in. You can't take your eyes from the white, little plastic radio and the black and white screen. A large specter paces back and forth holding a baby, trying his best to get them to go back to sleep.

“That's Atlas and Simon.” Johnny sighs dreamily, “pups only a few months old, but he runs the house.”

“Only because you spoil him.” Kyle teases.

“Can't spoil a bairn, impossible!”

The two of them laugh and you can only sit there in abject horror.

○●

Dinner comes and goes, a meal of sausage and peppers that you don't even pick at. You had spent most of your afternoon in the living room, with Johnny taking it upon himself to keep you entertained.

It was more like being forced to listen to him ramble on about his pack for a few hours and ignoring questions about yourself. Kyle had wandered off for a bit and appeared on the baby monitor and the specter that was called Simon had come downstairs. He took one look at you, glared and stomped outside.

The dining table has quiet conversation, something about Kyle needing to work and a complaint that he'd rather not be stuck on patrol duty. Johnny chimes in that Atlas has a play date and that he's excited for it. The entire time, you feel Simon's eyes on you, burning a hole into your profile. He's been busy trying to get Atlas to at least try and feed himself a few mashed carrots.

Atlas is a cute baby. Chubby, bright brown eyes, head full of curls, and light brown skin. He's clearly Kyle's baby, but they all dote on him just the same. John won't let you near him just yet and you're thankful for that. The natural omega side of you wants to hold and cuddle him, sniff his scalp and melt into his sweet milk scent. The more rational part is scared shitless because at some point you are going to be forcibly bonded to him, to all of them in some fashion.

“You aren't eating.” Simon seems suspicious of you. He keeps an eye on you at all times when he's in the same room as you. He isn't wrong, you haven't touched the food and barely drank the water offered to you. Four sets of eyes are now on you and you meet each one of them briefly, and finally land on John.

He raises an eyebrow, glances down at your plate and then back at you. “You're not going to try and starve yourself are you?” He gets right to the point. “You'll break and eat before any real damage is done.” He's so nonchalant about the idea of you starving yourself.

The corner of your lip raises into a scowl and you roll your eyes, “I don't eat pork.” Is the only answer you give and right after the hand not holding the fork goes up to adjust your veil, but you stop when you realize it's not there. The cool metal of the bells sewn into the edge of the fabric and the softness isn't on you and you feel naked. You feel exposed.

“A bit ridiculous don't you think? To be picky when there are people who don't even get that?” Simon goes back to feeding Atlas as if he didn't just try to scold you.

“Fuck you and fuck this weak ass dinner!” You shout and jump to your feet. You're answered with a low rumbling growl from John. He stares at you but before he can say anything Kyle is on it.

“Dove,” he says quietly and grabs your hand, holds it tightly, “we've got other things for you to try. It's just pork right?” He doesn't wait for an answer and gently tugs you towards the kitchen, shutting the door behind you both. You can hear Johnny fussing at Simon about being nice and having grace, that not everyone thinks the same.

Kyle has yet to let go of your hand and he stares at you for a moment. The silence between you two is heavy for a moment and then he smiles just a bit. It's contrite, tight lipped, a little mournful before his smile becomes easy going. “You should talk to us, tell us things about yourself.” He goes into the fridge, rummaging around and then pulls out a container of shredded chicken. “We had this last night with rice, Johnny ate all the broccoli though, sorry.” He laughs.

“Why would I tell my captors anything?” You finally answered his first statement. “You'll either kill me or I'll escape.”

“Did you really like living in that diseased shanty town?” He says quietly while grabbing a pan to heat up the leftover food.

You don't answer and he only gives a quiet nod.

He takes a deep breath and lights the stove, “Didn't know there were other people who still practiced. I haven't practiced since years ago, since my third deployment before shit hit the fan.”

You're stiff as you listen to him. He sounds so sad and he hunches his shoulders just a bit, “I still have your scarf, though I suppose it's not really a scarf is it?”

“Can I have it back?” Your hand goes up to your hair.

“If you behave, if I can trust you won't try to strangle yourself with it? Yeah you can. But you gotta behave.”

“You're a fucking monster.” You seethe with anger. Your scent turns acrid and you can feel your body awaking from nerves.

“No.” Kyle shakes his head, “I just want you to adjust to your new life. It's better than being given to worse packs that live in the city, you lucked out. Some packs are known to rape their omegas, shoot them up with a cocktail of drugs to force a bond and that's just the tame ones.”

“Let me guess, you're the better ones? Why not make Johnny fulfill his role as your pack omega?”

“Johnny?” Kyle looks over his shoulder at you and lips pursed, face pensive in general, “He would if he could. That's his thing to share if he wants to at all.”

○●

The chicken and rice went down fine and after dinner Johnny had pulled you along to the basement. He was eager, mouth moving a mile a minute about how he cleaned and refreshed your new room. The carpet was thick and green like grass, and the room when you got a good look made you freeze. It was a prison designed to mimic outside.

“You like it?” Johnny says and he's practically bouncing on his feet. “I did the murals myself! Cap made the bed, he makes all of the furniture actually, good solid wood ya know!” He thumps his fist against the poster bed to show off the good quality.

You're in so much shock you don't hear or notice that the other John has come down the stairs. He's got a cigar in his mouth and the smokey scent taints the air. He places a hand at the base of your neck, his thumb just next to your scent gland. It's instant how you unwillingly relax into his hold. Panic takes hold if you but your hind brain makes no effort to acknowledge it.

It's been years since you've been scruffed by the neck, not since you presented and made the transition from pup to adult. Not since your mom had last scolded you for something so petty.

“Calm down Sweetheart.” His voice is low and rough. “Just want to talk and go over some ground rules.” He slowly nudges and guides you to sit with him on the bed.

Johnny has already crawled into the bed after shedding everything but his boxers. He flops onto his stomach on the other side of John's legs and lays his head on his lap. “Can I sleep down here with her?”

“You're already naked for bed, so why even ask?” John laughs.

You twist a bit trying to get free but his grip tightens and your body goes limp and slumps against him.

“I know Sweetheart, but it's the only way I can make sure you listen and don't fight me.” He takes a slow pull of his cigar and blows the smoke out slowly. It's a quiet moment as he gathers his thoughts and then he speaks. “I want this to be pleasant for you. We all do.” His thumb rubs against your gland in small soothing circles.

It doesn't calm you and makes you feel the exact opposite.

“Why not just get an omega that wants this?” You murmur.

“Kyle, my sweet boy had a good feeling about you. Said you smelt like you belong with us. I happen to agree.”

You want to hiss, spit at him, instead you just slur out the word, “Tragic.”

“I know it's not ideal, no real courting, but that will come after your adjustment period.” He continues on ignoring you. “A few rules, no tantrums, outburst, anything of the sort around Atlas. We won't tolerate it.”

He manipulates you to face him, pulls you into his space so you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. He passes his nose against your temple and inhales just a bit. It's incredibly intimate and you've only been close like this with Avarice.

Your stomach drops in distress but try as you might, you can't escape the forced feeling of surrender he has you in.

“You have your meds to take daily, full stomach, if you refuse I have the liquid version and I have no issue injecting you.” It's almost like he's mocking you with how gentle he sounds and how it's contrasted to the horror that this entire situation is. “I'm sure you have figured out, you're here to be Atlas’ surrogate mom, and in time you'll be our pack omega.”

“What bored of Johnny?” You snort.

Johnny whines and pouts, “Don't be mean.”

“No, as far as I'm concerned, Johnny is an alpha and out ranks you Sweetheart.” John shakes his head, “And you will respect him as such. Lastly, you aren't to be outside of your room unless one of us is with you.” He finally lets go of your neck and gently nudges Johnny so he can stand up.

You're still a bit under, feeling foggy in the mind as you watch John open up a locked chest and pull out a manacle that's attached to a thick iron chain. He then ties it to the foot of the poster bed and leaves the metal ankle ring on top of the chain.

“A reminder to behave, Sweetheart.” He kisses Johnny on the forehead and then goes up the stairs.

The sound of the door closing and locking is too loud to bear.

Slowly you lay down and stare at the ceiling. There's no way out at the moment. You scoot towards the wall and put space between yourself and Johnny, who thankfully decides that you do need space. He doesn't shut up though.

“Bonnie Bunny?” He whispers into the dim light of the basement. You don't answer and keep your back towards him.

“You'll learn to like us. Love us even. It's nice to have another omega in the house though, I'm sure it'll be fun when you get used to them.”

“Shut up and let me sleep.” You tell him.

You don't sleep at all that night.

#poly 141 x black!reader #poly!141 #poly 141 x reader #poly!141 x reader #cod omegaverse #omegaverse #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #forced drugging #task force 141 #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #dddne

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cosmerelists · 3 days ago

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Cosmere Characters Trying to Sell You a Mattress

I've always thought that it must be kinda tough to be a mattress salesman. Mattresses are expensive, after all, and working on commission must make the job extra stressful. So anyway let's make Cosmere characters do it.

1. Kaladin: Jogs around the store with a mattress hefted high over his head

Remember when Kaladin wanted his crew to practice carrying bridges with him so he jogged around shirtless with a log hefted on his shoulder to inspire them? I like to think that Mattress Salesman Kaladin would do the same thing, only they do make him wear his uniform shirt.

Sales: Surprisingly good. ...Or maybe it's not that surprising.

2. Lightsong: Sleeps peacefully to show you how wonderful the mattress is

Or so he says. It is possibly he is simply napping on the job.

Sales: Pretty good, but only because Llarimar is handling the actual sales part.

3. Kelsier: Gives people the code to the door and some hints about the guard schedule

He then claps them lightly on the shoulder and comments that everybody deserves a nice mattress, even people who can't afford one.

Sales: Very bad, so far as the store is concerned. Kelsier thinks it's going quite well.

4. Elhokar: Is intentionally sabotaging his own sales

Elhokar has been convinced for MONTHS that one of the other employees is sabotaging him. Since the manager won't listen, Elhokar has taken to sabotaging his own sales in order to gather evidence of sabotage. It's a plan that can't possibly fail!

Sales: Honestly kinda middling, even before the whole fake sabotage plot

5. Nikaro: Waits for the customers to find him

"People who truly desire a mattress will seek me out," he murmurs from the shadowy corner he's sitting in. He aims to sound intriguing, but he may in fact just be shy.

Sales: Bad; Nikaro may not be cut out for sales

6. Adolin: Doesn't know shit about mattresses, and yet

He skates by mostly on charm. "Oh yeah, a lot of people buy this one! One guy the other day said that he researched all the mattresses and that this one was the best" --Adolin, about to make a sale.

Sales: Better than he rightly deserves

7. Vivenna: Knows everything there is to know about mattresses, and yet

Vivenna did all the research. She can tell you about how mattresses are big problem in landfills, how buying a new one probably won't fix your marriage, and how the extended warranty probably isn't worth the money.

Sales: Worse than she rightly deserves

8. Jasnah: Acts as though you need to convince her to sell to you

Jasnah isn't sure you're ready to commit to this new mattress. Can you really handle its upkeep? The remote control? Do you have references from your previous mattress store? Somehow, this makes you desperate to prove that you are ready to buy this mattress--yes, even the more expensive one!

Sales: Good, somehow. How does she do that??

9. Kenton: Doesn't even work there and yet

Kenton is in there every day, aggressively selling mattresses to even the toughest customers. He's sure that if he can only sell enough mattresses, he'll get hired! His dad owns the store, after all. (His dad does not want to hire him.)

Sales: Good, but not good enough to impress his dad

10. Shallan: Draws Your "Ideal Sleeping Self"

Once you see yourself sleeping peacefully on the Feathered Dreaming Quality Mattress 5000, you won't be able to leave without one.

Sales: Would be better if Shallan didn't get distracted so often sketching Kaladin jogging around with his mattress...

#cosmere #cosmerelists #this whole list is just because I was imagining Kaladin running around carrying a mattress like a bridge to impress customers #Kaladin #Lightsong #Kelsier #Adolin #Vivenna #Shallan #Elhokar #Nikaro #Jasnah

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deadhands69 · 2 days ago

Text

Villain Radio

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader League of Villains Band//Roommate AU (Quirkless)

Keith the Human breakfast is delivered directly to the porch and Keith the cat turns into a human. -- this idea came up from a tiny conversation with @majoryeager104 a while ago when I forgot to give an explanation of Keith. there's a subtle nod to one of Kisa's fics in one line as a tiny easter egg, if you haven't read it I highly recommend it! -- tws: (accidental and on purpose) weed consumption

[discography]

“We’re out of cereal,” you say, closing the pantry.

“We’re out of everything,” Tomura corrects, scowling at Dabi who’s sipping a cup of black coffee while sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Don’t look at me,” he replies, “I reused the grounds from yesterday, I haven’t gotten paid this week either.”

“Ew,” you say. He glares at you.

“Hey,” Spinner calls out from the living room, “have you guys seen Keith? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“He’s not in his chair?” Dabi asks.

Spinner shakes his head.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up. He always does, right? His food is here so he'll be back,” you say while heading out the door for work. “See you guys!”

They each mumble their own version of a goodbye.

You leave, carefully walking around Compress who’s doing his morning “yoga.” It’s less actual poses and more like interpretive dance being done by someone who has only ever seen yoga in a Crohn's disease medication commercial.

“We need to make some money soon,” Tomura mumbles, searching the cabinets once more to see if he missed anything.

“What are these?” Compress asks, walking in the front door with a plate covered in foil.

“That’s probably the brownies Magne gave us,” Dabi says, jumping off the countertop. He pulls the foil off and everyone takes a look. “She sent a text out earlier this morning saying she made too much so she’d drop some off.”

“I haven’t had my phone on me,” says Compress. The others nod and mumble their agreement.

“Wow, they look amazing,” says Spinner, taking a huge bite out of one. “They taste great too.”

Everyone digs in, it’s not everyday that breakfast shows up on your front porch. They leave a few brownies to share with you when you get home from work, then go their own directions.

Compress leaves to rehearse for an ongoing performance in the park. The other three decide to work on some songs, pulling out acoustic instruments. Spinner comes back from his room with a set of bongo drums. They practice for an hour or so before getting distracted and sitting on the couch.

“I know we just ate those brownies,” Spinner says, stomach grumbling, “but I’m still hungry.”

“Yeah,” says Tomura, me too. He glances up before nearly jumping off the couch in shock, “whoa, who’s that?” he exclaims pointing at a very scraggly looking man on the chair across the living room.

“Oh, that’s just Keith,” explains Spinner. “He got back a little while ago.”

“Why is he a person?” Dabi asks.

“I don’t know,” says Spinner. “Why are any of us people?”

This seems like a good enough reason to satisfy the group, so they go back to what they were doing – staring at the ceiling and making casual conversation.

“There has to be something in this house to eat,” Spinner mumbles. He stands in search of food before returning with some bad news.

“Awe man,” Spinner grumbles. “Keith ate the rest of those good brownies!”

“Should we call a vet or something?” Tomura asks.

“Why would we call a vet?” Dabi grumbles, hanging half off the couch.

“Cats aren’t supposed to have chocolate, right?” Tomura pulls his phone out to check.

“Can they?” Dabi stares across the living room confused.

“I know dogs can’t,” Tomura replies.

“But, that doesn’t matter anymore – Keith’s a human now.” Spinner adds.

“Oh yeah,” the other two reply.

“He’s not looking so good though,” Tomura presses up from the couch, taking a moment to steady himself before walking to the other side of the room where human Keith is splayed across the chair. “You sure he doesn’t still have like, cat qualities or something?”

“Cat qualities?” Dabi scoffs, standing.

“Yeah, like residual cat traits or something. I don’t know how this works.”

“Hmm,” Spinner considers, joining them. “He does like to sleep all day. It’s probably fine though.”

“And he smells like trash,” Tomura notes, lifting his wrist to check for a pulse. “You sure this is Keith and not some dumpster cat that came in and turned into a human?”

“No, this is Keith.” Spinner states definitively, “that’s his spot. And that’s definitely his hair.”

They all nod in unison.

“Well, he’s not sleeping in my room tonight,” Tomura says. “We’ll have to find a space for him.”

“Maybe in the basement, it’s kind of nice down there. And there’s all that extra space.” Dabi replies.

Once more, they all nod.

Sitting back on the couch, Tomura speaks up first. “What do you guys think we would be like as cats? I think I'd be blue.”

The other two give him odd looks, but no one argues with it.

“I’d be such a good cat,” Dabi says while staring at the ceiling. “I’d catch birds and stuff.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” Spinner looks him over, “you look like you’d be an outdoor cat." He pauses for a while without realizing. "It would be like the game Stray. I wish we could all be cats together, maybe just for a day or two.”

A few minutes later, Toga walks in with cat Keith in tow. There’s a bow on top of his head.

“I took Keith to my house this morning for a makeover, see how pretty he is?”

The three of them sit upright.

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” you clarify later that night after hearing the story. “You ate some brownies, thinking they were normal and there was weed in them?”

“Yes,” replies Spinner as the other two say, “no.”

“I knew there was weed in them,” says Dabi. “And I kind of figured. Also, they didn’t taste normal,” adds Tomura.

“Then, you let someone in the house?” you ask.

“Oh, no,” answers Spinner. “Human Kei– er he let himself in. We just didn’t ask him to leave because we thought he was Keith.”

“Keith the cat,” you say slowly, “who you thought had been turned into a human?”

“When you put it that way,” Spinner starts. “It, well, uh it made more sense in the moment.”

“Yeah,” Dabi agrees, cringing slightly at the memory.

“And now that’s who’s asleep on the couch?” you inquire.

“Yes,” Tomura’s eyes still have a glazed over look as he tries to focus on you while answering. “He’s a really nice guy, just having a rough time. One of us will take him to the train station in the morning. He said his sister will pick him up from there, he called her on Spinner’s phone earlier.”

“Got it,” you stand to head up to bed. This was not the answer you were expecting when you asked why there’s a man asleep in the living room wearing their band merch. “Well, you guys get some rest – I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night,” they all mumble.

As you walk up the stairs, you hear Compress come through the front door and announce, “I just had the best day ever!”

When you get to your door, there are a few new post-it notes, including one with a drawing of you as a cat.

[🐈<- cat y/n]

I missed you today.

did you know that cats can see uv rays??

Hope you’re having a good day, wherever you are.

there are were brownies for you on the counter

It’s so weird that you sell sound.

[discography] [shigaraki masterlist] [bnha masterlist]

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme

@kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820 @its-evee16 @thesecond2demonking

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

@lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim @venom-barf @shiiigaraki

@thetinas21 @spam-1 @rickydickydoodahgrimes73 @achildofapollo @eliankm

@chimaerakirin @fwxyz00 @thatoneawkwardfeeling @d1s1ntegrated @enyaaa2222

@altgojo

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marstellar · 1 day ago

Text

𝙃𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙇𝙀𝙎𝙎

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: hc's about painter falling for an expandable

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: nothing!

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: first fic on here !! thought I'd feed all 3 starving painter fans

- at first, you were like any expandable to painter. A simple prisoner in the way of him and his companion sebastians chance of escape.

- since being connected to the blacksites mainframe, he used various mechanics to try stop expandables such as yourself from progressing to the crystal.

- however, after venturing further into the blacksite, you came upon him. Grasping the purple keycard that lay on a vacant desk to enter the fenced room he was held in.

- seeing the computer drawing oblivious to your presence, you gave his artwork a simple compliment.

It all started there.

- most expandables wouldn't bat an eye at his work, let alone compliment it. Considering in the past urbanshade purposely overclocked painters systems resulting in what he would consider lower quality art, it really was quite the shock.

- Despite such instances, painter wouldn't let one mere compliment get to him, right?

Oh how wrong was he.

- at first he attempted to brush it off. I mean it was just a simple compliment. Still, the more you came by, spoke highly of his artwork, even just spending more time in his presence than any expandable would ever dream of, you grew quite fond to the computer.

- and after you, yourself, spent more time with painter on your runs, you began to find solace in his presence.

Painter would show this in the small things

- such as trying to playfully warn you on which of the good people doors you should not venture through.

"Open the door on the left, it's breathing"

- if you happend to not comprehend painters sarcastic warnings and walked right through the good people door, he'd be consumed with guilt.

"No wait! I'm sorry! I really didn't mean for you to walk through it.."

- its safe to say if you happened to make it to his room on that run, a lot of sorrowful words would be expressed from the computer.

- if you were into art like painter was, he'd let you stay in his room for extended periods of time to draw with him.

- this would either playout in a comfortable silence or a very fulfilling yap session.

"You'll never guess what I did earlier this week" painter beamed, a devious expression appearing on his screen.

You looked up from the sketchbook you were currently sketching in and furrowed your brows with a lazy smile plastered on your lips.

"What?"

"According to sebastian, a group of expandables walked right past his shop- so I sent pandemonium after them" painter snickered as he reaccounted earlier events, the mischievous smile never faltering from his screen.

- speaking of the tricks he would frequently pull on expandables, it wouldn't go without saying he did feel quite guilty if one of them happend to reach their death.

- you'd have to reassure him alot, which you did! Your selfless actions towards the computer was making him dig his hole of unsorted emotions deeper and deeper.

- and as life went on in the hellhole that is the blacksite, sebastian became aware.

- painters conversations with Sebastian would vary, yet when the time was right, would center around you. Whether it was what you got upto during your time with him, your kindness towards him, or just you. Sebastian being the big brother figure he is would listen intently, not without teasing of course.

- and that sketchbook you carried around with you? If it wasn't for painters persistent rambling about how 'you need something more efficient to draw on' to Sebastian, he wouldn't have went out and scavenged for it.

- it was safe to say painter was in deep, deeper than he'd like to admit. As for you? You loved the computer just as much.

#pressure x reader #painter pressure #roblox pressure x reader #painter x reader #pressure roblox #pressure #pressure x you #roblox pressure x you #painter #writing #headcanon #painter x you #painter pressure x reader #pressure painter x you

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tamaytsuki · 2 days ago

Text

Thank you @still--kicking for tagging me!!!

What’s the origin of your blog title?

i'm not really sure, i have used this name since i was in middle school, and most of my social media profiles have the same name (i'm not very creative). I'm pretty sure i just keyboard smashed, rearanged, added and deleted the letters until i had something i liked.

OTP(s) + shipname(s):

Joongdok and Klance are currently the only two things i think about. Of course i am in many other fandoms and there are many other ships i enjoy quite a lot but those two are the ones consuming my brain as of now.

Favorite color:

Red.

Song stuck in your head:

Undressed by sombr because it reminds me of Joongdok...

Weirdest habit/trait:

I can crack a concerning amount of joints in my body.

Hobbies:

i have many hobbies actually. Of course i draw, i love reading, sewing and doing embroidery, i can play the piano and i've taken classes since i was 7 and I used to write when i was younger but i'm afraid i've lost that habit.

If you work, what’s your profession?

I'm unemployed, unfortunately... full time student tho.

If you could have any job, what would it be?

Well i am an architecture major so that probably answers it. But when i was younger i had the dream of being a book illustrator, sometimes i still think about the possibility but that's just a very, very far away dream though... we'll see where life takes me.

Something you’re good at:

I'm good at creative problem solving. My friends often tell me i'm also a quick improviser.

Something you hate:

Being misunderstood.

Something you collect:

sketchbooks, often unfinished but i have a whole shelf full of them.

Other than that, nothing. I had to move quite frequently ever since i was a child so it became quite hard to bring my stuff every time my family had to move, so i just didn't collect anything.

Something you forget:

Faces, names and dates.

What's your love language:

Acts of service and quality time

Favourite movie/show:

How to Train Your Dragon, probably. And my favorite show would be between Gravity Falls and The Owl House.

Favourite food:

all the shapes and forms a potato can take.

Favourite animal:

Cats, and if i had to pick any other animal then i would chose owls.

What were you like as a child:

Bossy, cheeky yet very quiet. I was very athletic and didn't know how to make friends since i didn't stay at a place long enough to form bonds.

Favourite subject at school:

Math and Portuguese grammar. That doesn't mean i was amazing at any of them though, just average.

Least favourite subject:

Ironicaly, arts. The teacher didn't allow much creativity in her classes so i automatically hated her and her subject...

What's your best character trait?

I'm not sure... i can be very patient.

Whats your worst character trait?

I have no idea how to comfort people. I can try to find a solution to your problem, sure! But i will pat you on the back while you cry and say "that's rough, buddy" because i simply wont know what to say or do to make you feel better.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

Many little things, but none worth mentioning. I'm happy for now.

This was very fun! Time for tagging: @gabicogatito @queengeni @themystiquedreamer and anyone else who wants to join! Dont feel pressured to join if you were tagged tho

Get to know your mutuals!

Got tagged by @wishfulsketching! Let's do this~

What's the origin of your blog title?

I honestly can't remember but it's been the one that has stuck with me the longest.

OTP(s)+ shipnames(s):

Zaundads and Jayvik (Arcane), Hartwin (Kingsman), BayoJean (Bayonetta), Hankcon (Detroit: Become Human), Cherik (any rendition of Xmen foreverrrrr)

I was trying to remember which were my oldest and it's a toss up between Zelgadis/Amelia (The Slayers) and Xena/Gabrielle (Xena: Warrior Princess)

Favourite color:

I'm an all shades of purple kinda gal but I do love me a teal from time to time.

Song stuck in your head:

This one specific rendition of Malagueña Salerosa

Weirdest habit/trait:

i fucking love eating freezer ice

Hobbies:

the usual reading, gaming, cross stitching, writing, drawing i used to do archery and i miss it so much...

If you work, what's your profession?

my family and I run a bakery/cake shop (I did the math the other day and I make 24 cheesecakes a week)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I'd like to think there's an AU version of me out there that's a published author. That or a funeral director cuz funerals here in Spain fucking suck.

Something you're good at:

My mother often said I'm a good problem solver so I'll go with that.

Something you hate:

'proship DNI' culture

people who yuck people for their yum in general

The commodification and girlbossing of Persephone's myth.

No wind in the air. No even a breeze.

Something you collect:

I'm quite fond of the collection of NMBC Sally merch I've acquired throughout the years.

Something you forget:

to call my dad

What's your love language:

i'll throw hands in a parking lot

Favourite movie/show:

Movies: Rocky Horror Picture Show, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Kingsman, Into the Spiderverse, Death Becomes Her, Blazing Saddles, Millennium Actress

TV: The Venture Bros, (Go Team Venture ✌️😭) Interview with the Vampire, Haunting of Hill House, Arcane, Twin Peaks, Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Favourite food:

I could eat ramen forever.

Favourite animal:

octopi and bears reign supreme!!!

What were you like as a child:

"She's so good! She barely makes a sound!" was something I heard a lot growing up. I was fiercely shy but liked that people found me funny so I leaned heavily on wanting to make people laugh. I enjoyed my own company and my imaginary friend was Basil of Baker Street.

Favourite subject at school:

English lit. I remember when it finally clicked and how much I enjoyed picking apart the themes and symbolism.

Least favourite subject:

German. My teacher said that since I was already bilingual i was just too lazy to learn another language.

What's your best character trait?

I do like making people laugh

What's your worst character trait?

how i express my anger

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

I really wish my grandfather was still around.

ALRIGHT! time to tag!

@glitteryrainbows @ballowvalence @poltergeist-punk @artknifeandglue @silcobrainrot