#&& this is where the rich kids come to die

[drumlincountry]

Biggest criticism of The Secret History : they should have murdered more people.

[tomurakii]

I truly apologise but I've never found a character more irritating than Ruby Rocks. It is severely impacting my ability to watch a crown of candy because this bratty literally-the-embodiment-of-the-status-quo bitter bastard child won't stop sulking and being shitty to the only good surviving member of this royal bloodline (Saccharina).

The immediate Rocks family in general is so unsympathetic, I'm sorry but if you want me to feel bad over your personal growth journey you can't ALSO be a monarch who has absolute power over an entire nation-state. If you had literally the best education of everyone in your country and you're still an idiot I don't know what to tell you except that you're a resource hoarding pig who has not earned an iota of the power or luxury you have. They have SERVANTS and all they do is complain about going to class or doing their job. Hey if it sucks so bad demolish the state and redistribute your wealth <3 you won't <3

[starlightbright]

RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔

EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.

I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.

THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.

That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.

So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.

Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.

[lifetimeoftired]

How to Adopt a Dead Kid in Three Weeks or Less (Part 2)

Part 1 || Part 2

As promised; part 2! I would like to apologize to Dick for the trauma I put him through, but honestly it was really fun for me. Also I love the idea of Danny actually trying to leave, but he keeps getting pulled back into family shenanigans because they decided 'mine now'.

Tag list: @tkiesai @sir-ghost-the-green @dreamingaboutsakuratrees @atinygracie @wolfeyedwitch Enjoy<3

Duke squints at the mop of black hair, just peeking out of the blanket. When did Tim get in last night? And really? A couch? He usually at least makes it to the batcave and sometimes even his actual room if he’s going to pass out. And what happened to his sneakers? They look weirdly worn and they’re tucked up under the couch instead of being put away properly. Alfred’s going to be really annoyed when he comes down and finds Tim like this. Duke considers walking away and leaving Dick and Tim to whatever the heck is going on here- it would serve Tim right for being so terrifying about his unhealthy sleep schedule. 

Yet, just as he’s going to walk away again, he notices that Dick’s not moving. He’s crouched there, staring at the sleeping Tim with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s… Unnerving.

“Dick? What’s wrong?”

“Tim’s not breathing.”

Is… Dick okay? The bags under his eyes aren’t as bad at Tim’s but he looks like he hasn’t slept. Duke can only stare blankly at him. Then at the has-to-be-sleeping Tim. Of course he’s just sleeping- it’s Tim! He consumes his weight in poison on a daily basis; there's no way he’s just gone. But the longer he looks at the should be sleeping form, the more Duke realizes the same thing Dick did. There’s no rise in the blanket. No accompanying fall to indicate that the body is breathing and alive. 

Panic wells up where his heart should be- having dug its way somewhere down near his stomach and was now useless beyond a frantic beating. Oh god oh god oh god- Bruce and Jason flash through his mind. Stephanie- Shit. 

“Tim- Tim wake up!” Unthinkingly, Duke grabs for him, unhearing of the noise Dick makes and- It’s only his bat training saves Duke from being flung head first into the wall. 

He twists, feet skidding along the floor and recovers in time to see Tim try to spring up from the couch. Dick snatches their brother mid-jump, and gets wrenched to the side so hard they flip over the back of the couch. Dick bends, ducks and rolls, ends up the other side with Tim in his lap getting the biggest cuddle of his life so easily in a feat that Duke would find impressive later when they all calmed down. 

“It’s us Timmy! Everything’s okay, you're safe.” Thankfully, Tim calms down pretty quickly and waits for his brother to get done with his bear hug.

It’s odd though. Tim doesn’t usually sleep if he’s in a bad enough way to freak out like that. Sure there’s a long list of cases that are ongoing right now, but that usually means so much caffeine Duke can feel his liver cringe in horror. Oh well, the only way to get answers is for their resident caffeine addict to talk, Duke knows he can only wait until their certified Older Brother™ gets it all out of his system.

Duke plunks down with a sigh, and grunts when he lands on something lumpy. Something that turns out to be a ratty old backpack that looked spiritually connected to those cranky old war veterans you see on sitcoms. Was it for a case? Tim’s not exactly a stereotypical rich guy (none of the Waynes were thank god), but any of them would have replaced this thing long before needing to duck tape the corners and shoulder straps like this. He looks over the couch to ask, maybe offer to help and hope Tim actually takes him up on it. But when he makes eye contact, the words die in his throat. Those are blue eyes (icy blue, wide, frozen in fear), and jet black hair (longer than Dick’s, stick up where he’d been nuzzled half to death, scruffy where he hadn’t, bangs styled forward in a way none of them had), but that’s most certainly /not/ Tim.

“Dick? That’s not Tim.” 

“What?”

Dick pulls away from the boy in his arms to get a better look at the wrong boy- Duke himself. Who quickly gestures back at the freaked out, curled up kid. This time, when Dick looks, it’s a much more proper look and notices all the reasons that’s not Tim.

“You’re not Tim.” Dick said stupidly. 

“I am not Tim!” The boy jazz hands awkwardly, his arms tucked close, and adds an even more awkward grin to puncture the statement. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think I’m him if that makes you feel any better.”

There’s a beat where none of them move, then Dick leans back with a long drawn-out groan. Before any questions can be asked, Dick ‘completely unnecessary acrobatics at any given time’ Greyson rocks them both back, laughing at the boy’s squeak, flips forward, and lands on his feet. Only then does he set not-Tim back on his feet with a friendly hair ruffle.

“What makes me feel better is that you’re okay. You gave us a bit of a scare there- I thought you weren’t breathing.” 

“I uh, y’know. Got a deep R.E.M. sleep?”

It’s a really dumb answer. Like, really dumb. It’s clear he never expected to be asked about whatever’s up with him and he doesn’t want to give a real answer. Moreover, it’s clear the backpack really is his because those clothes he’s wearing? Every bit as ratty. The shirt he’s wearing is less ‘white and orange’ and more ‘off white, suspiciously stained, and the logo is cracked to hell and back with very little indication of what it’s supposed to be’. Same with how many tears and faded stains are in the jeans. Also clear, from the way he angles himself, keeping both of them in view, that whoever he is, Duke knows better than he should about all the signs of a street kid.

“You guys weren’t kidding about Bruce’s adoption tendencies.” Duke quickly says. Distracting Dick so he won’t press too fast too soon and scare him off. The others (Jason excluded) are every bit as nosy as said serial adopter is paranoid and it can be a lot. Better to let the new kid acclimate to the manor so he’s not crawling out the window and disappearing into the night. Something Duke thought about doing every time things got to be too much. Which was no less than five times a day.

“I’m not being adopted!” When both Duke and Dick blink in surprise, not expecting the sheer amount of vitriol from Bruce’s latest, he winces and curls back in on himself. “I’m not staying, I mean. I didn’t even mean to wind up here- it just sorta, happened? In fact, I should probably get out of here. If you could just-” He makes a grab for the backpack, and Duke lets it go easily. “Thanks.”

“Hold on hold on-” Dick holds up his hands placatingly. “You haven’t even had breakfast yet! Alfred’s gonna be sad if you don’t join everyone.”

Dick gets a stare that says the kid thinks he’s insane- and Duke kinda can’t blame him. He also thought the Wayne’s were crazy. Because they were. For literally anyone else, random street kids they found pretty much dead on their couch weren’t usually invited to breakfast… At least their particular kind of crazy was nice.

“I know that that sounds, but Alfred really does love it when people appreciate his cooking. I’m Duke by the way.” Duke stands back up, holding out his hand with a smile. Seeing as not-Tim automatically shakes, he guesses the guy did have parents for the better part of his life. “Sorry for not introducing myself sooner.”

“... Danny.” 

Oh yes, a name really does make everything easier. Duke shakes Danny’s hand, and he even gives him a little smile.

“And everybody calls me Dick!”

“Well, people can be cruel.” 

Duke’s laugh desperately wants out both at Dick’s little puppy pout and Danny’s mortified expression, but he chokes it back very elegantly.

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of versions of that joke but somehow it always surprises me.” Dick says with a laugh, and another hair ruffle when Danny grumbles. “C’mon Danny. Let’s get some food in you, you can tell us how you met the old man. Then we get you some new clothes.”

“I like these just fine, thanks.”

“Sorry Danny,” Duke says apologetically. He’s been here long enough to know that stubborn glint in Dick’s eyes. He might insist he’s different than Bruce, and in many ways he is, but Dick’s mother henning is every bit as bad. “He’s going to pout and whine until you let him buy you something. Can we settle on a new backpack for now?”

It’s enough of a compromise for Danny to agree to be herded to breakfast. Bruce isn’t there, but Tim and Cass are. The real Tim is half asleep into his cereal (and grumbles about the bear hug he gets), and though Cass gives the new kid a curious look, she only stays long enough to grab an egg sandwich. Alfred is more than happy to put a big plate of the best food Duke knows he’ll ever eat in his life in front of Danny too- Much to his surprise. Did he really think Bruce would let him stay and not feed him? Hopefully he’d learn that Bruce was a pretty good guy after all and that he was safe here.

-

Over the course of the entire day, Duke learns a few more things about their new brother. 

For starters, Danny could eat. He was surprisingly good at hiding it too. Nibbling here and there and pretending he was eating slow and listening, but the second they pretended they weren’t paying attention, he’d stuff a good portion down his throat and refill his plate. Meaning he was able to eat almost four times the amount they would have reasonably expected out of a starving street kid while making it look like he wasn’t. It could only mean one thing; Duke knew he had to be a meta. No normal person could pull off either the speed or volume. 

The two other things he learned concurrently; That Danny was as accident-prone as he was kind.

Despite originally not really wanting to even go to the mall, with Dick’s good natured pestering and Duke mediating, they managed to convince Danny into not just the new backpack, but several new sets of clothes as well. In that time they saw him run into two separate doors- one of which broke his nose. His response? Crack it back into place and worry far more about the blood smear. Not even a few moments later, he was somehow roped into helping some little old lady carry her bags back to the front (they almost lost him there). Next, in the cafeteria, some unruly children knocked their tray and a good portion of it slapped Danny in the face. All he did was smile, clean himself off, and entertain the siblings with Dick’s help so their mom could take a small break and know nobody was in trouble. On the way out, Danny nearly got hit by an actual car helping some other shop-lifting street kids escape from the mall cop by pretending to trip in front of him. When the guy went tumbling into the street, Danny threw himself forward to push him out of the way of an oncoming car.

Getting back to the manor where Danny was moderately safer was a relief. It meant they could hand him off to a much more capable-of-dealing-with-this-crap Alfred and give Duke a moment alone to discuss things with Dick. The conversation went a little like;

“We need to make sure Danny is never on his own or he’s going to get himself killed. Meta or no meta. Agreed?”

“Agreed. I'll call the others.”

[apollos-olives]

whats your favorite poem?

"This is for the kids who die, Black and white, For kids will die certainly. The old and rich will live on awhile, As always, Eating blood and gold, Letting kids die.

Kids will die in the swamps of Mississippi Organizing sharecroppers Kids will die in the streets of Chicago Organizing workers Kids will die in the orange groves of California Telling others to get together Whites and Filipinos, Negroes and Mexicans, All kinds of kids will die Who don't believe in lies, and bribes, and contentment And a lousy peace.

Of course, the wise and the learned Who pen editorials in the papers, And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their names White and black, Who make surveys and write books Will live on weaving words to smother the kids who die, And the sleazy courts, And the bribe-reaching police, And the blood-loving generals, And the money-loving preachers Will all raise their hands against the kids who die, Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bullets To frighten the people— For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people— And the old and rich don't want the people To taste the iron of the kids who die, Don't want the people to get wise to their own power, To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get together

Listen, kids who die— Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you Except in our hearts Maybe your bodies'll be lost in a swamp Or a prison grave, or the potter's field, Or the rivers where you're drowned like Leibknecht But the day will come— You are sure yourselves that it is coming— When the marching feet of the masses Will raise for you a living monument of love, And joy, and laughter, And black hands and white hands clasped as one, And a song that reaches the sky— The song of the life triumphant Through the kids who die."

– Langston Hughes, "Kids Who Die"

[lunamugetsu]

The CIA is trying to kill Danny

Now hear me out.

I stumbled upon this prompt idea where somebody wrote that they want to see a story where the CIA is trying to kill Clark Kent (not Superman, reporter Clark Kent), the reason is because that Clark Kent is a very good reporter. And everybody knows that a mark of a good reporter is that they die of natural causes, with bullets in their head. So that story would have centered around the CIA trying to kill Clark Kent and having no idea on how Clark Kent is still alive after the multiple attempts on his life.

Now this got me thinking.

In an AU where Danny is interning or working at the Daily Planet, probably under Clark or Lois.(you choose) And Danny is a really good reporter, his ghost powers help him gather information undetected. He's exposing corporations left and right, all ranging from either illegal animal experimentation, environmental pollution, horrible working conditions, toss in a couple of sleazy terrible rich people. So while all of his stuff is getting published and the govt is going, "we gotta stop that reporter." And proceed to constantly try to end this kid's life with no result. They try to poison food, Danny grew up eating radioactive food, if anything the poison is just added seasoning. They try to set up his place on fire, Danny's just conveniently not there. They try to have people tail him but they can't because Danny just disappears whenever he turns a corner.

And layers could be added to this, like Danny's just talking to Clark at work (y'know water cooler talk) and when Danny brings up all of these strange things happening to him like "people following him, the elevator at his place just conveniently broke down and crashed into the ground around the time he would have left for work, or how his usual food orders look a bit different than what they normally look like and they taste slightly different." And Clark is hearing all of this and is going "wait a minute!" and there's a scene of Clark walking with Danny as the kid is waiting for his uber and when the car pulls up. Clark uses his x-ray vision and spots the driver sporting guns, knives, poison gas (whatever CIA agents use for assassinations, I don't know) and just goes "Hey Danny did I ever take you to my favorite diner. No? GREAT! Let's go now!" and he just immediately drags Danny away from the murder car. And from that point on, Clark is taken it upon himself to stop all of the assassination attempts on Danny because he believes that Danny is a fragile young human being.

OR

This could be set in Gotham

And Danny is just exposing all of elites of Gotham, including Gotham's rogues and all of that song and dance. Which then leads him to be targeted by the Court of OWLS! Danny in this scenario would be friends with Tim, because they go to the same coffee shop and order the espresso on steroids drink. Danny tells him all of the stuff that's been happening to him and Tim goes "oh shit." In which he then tells the batsiblings. They all band together to protect Danny because he is a normal human being. (said nobody ever) So Danny becomes unofficially adopted by them. They don't tell Bruce about this because then they'll have to come to terms that they are just like him because they just took in a black haired blue eyed kid into their family.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as K-drama tropes

cw: mentions of death in Jisung's part. 

Mark Lee ; invisible strings theory

Mark would probably be that guy whom you met back when you were just a kid and years later, fate tied you two together and met each other again. Of course there's the conflict where one of you remembers and the other one does not. Or it can also where both of you don't remember at all and then when you two are officially a couple, you two will come to realized that you two have met back then because of an object or a faint memory. 

Huang Renjun ; second male lead syndrome

Renjun!!! my sweet little angel. He's the living definition of the second-male lead. He can be your childhood friend whom you grew up with and has been liking you for years but couldn't muster up the courage to confess, that's why you fall in love with someone else. He'll be that type who'll comfort you when you're hurting but in the end, he couldn't have because you only see him as a friend.

Lee Jeno ; down-bad male lead

Jeno would be that boyfriend who will go against odds for his girlfriend. He's a golden retriever personified, that's why he'll follow you everywhere you go. He makes sure that you're okay and everything's fine. Very very protective of you, especially when there are guys who's near you. He can be dramatic about you but it's okay! That's just how he shows his love for you. 

Lee Donghyuck ; small town boy and city girl

Donghyuck would be that small town guy who is loved by everyone in his neighborhood. He'll be that type who helps everyone and is very welcoming to everyone especially to you who's from the city. He makes sure that you're comfortable living in the town even though he gets annoying sometimes, but that's what makes him charming though.

Na Jaemin ; mortal and immortal

Jaemin would be that mortal turned immortal who is cursed or something. He's doing fine living a thousand years here on earth until he met you, who's a mortal. You two went against the rules of the living just for your love. It's either a happy ending where it doesn't matter if he's an immortal, he'll stay with you no matter what, or a sad one where you'll be left broken when he leaves you. 

Zhong Chenle ; rich ceo and employee

Of course this one's too obvious. Chenle's not only rich but he's also smart. He's that comical male-lead who takes no bullshit with the family drama, he's just here to work and probably gush over you who's a strong-willed employee. He recognizes your skills but then he falls in love with you, earning a secret office love affair. Of course there's the fiance conflict, but Chenle will fight for his love for you. 

Park Jisung ; reincarnations

Takes place in historical dramas, your relationship with Jisung is probably sweet and just a matter of young love, and then you two proceeds to die due to war or betrayal probably. Fast forward to the present time, you two reincarnated and crossed paths once again. You two probably have a faint memory of your tragic past lives and when you two remembered, you two will think that you're not meant for each other. But you two are!!! the present is a second chance for your love story to continue. 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Hidden Heir

Next ->

The Duke's family had very distinct eyes. It was genetic. An aggressively dominant trait at that, though it tended to die off, after a few generations out of the family. Supposedly a "blessing of the Gods". Spring to be exact. Bounty and luck. And the family certainly WAS bountiful.

In all the best and worst ways.

Wealth, corruption, children and bastards. It was a family so aggressively ALIVE, it could only be Spring's blessing that made them so. Pouring mania and madness into their veins like sweet sunlight. Whispering glory and riches, into power addled ears. They burst with life. Even as they endlessly destroyed themselves.

They were fictional.

Fascinating set dressings, for the stage play of someone else's story. Unimportant beyond their role in world building. As the origin story and power base of a character lead.

The Story ITSELF didn't even occur here. But rather, in the capital. Where the players of significance had gathered.

And I? Oh I was some minor antagonist, so insignificant to the plot, I genuinely could not remember which of seven different women I actually WAS. It had been an ongoing series. Otome Isekai. Reverse harem.

And I was either in the ORIGINAL original novel, the isekai'd plot novel, the anime adaption, OR a horrifying fever dream. My memory was largely useless. But? I did remember the characters. The archetypes.

And the fact, that the author had clearly been going though a Yandere phase.

My region of the Reverse Harem collect-o-thon? Horrifying! Red flags everywhere! No one here should date, leave room for fantasy Jesus, have we considered the joys of being a NUN? Yes. Yes I HAVE thought about it.

I was pretty sure I'd never make it. End up dead or captured by some sort of Nun Yandere. Or God Yandere. Possibly both. Assuming the bandit yanderes don't get me first. It... it was very stressful, living here.

Luckily? I knew when I could leave.

Or so I thought.

Because my house? The Dukedom? Had the "yandere butler who is secretly an heir." Who starts out with loyal dog behavior. A little highly possesive master and servant play. Then rises to become a Duke. Presumably? That is when I die. Or am disowned.

Death is most likely. Since my role was "minor antagonist" and I was to be mean to the sweet, earnest, Harem possessing Protagonist. Don't see WHY I would. Live and let live. Good for her etc etc. But regardless? Best to avoid, just in case.

The problem? Who do you think Mr Illegitimate Heir serves before she gets here? The OTHER possible heirs? Of course not! They'd "oops! Hunting accident~☆" him in a heart beat. Father isn't stupid. And my sisters? Issues. Violent, violent, issues.

He ends up with ME.

Father, WHY.

Obviously, I ignore him. I see nothing. I hear nothing. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. Mmmmm, tea. Good book. Ignore his creepy staring. His creepy, creepy staring.

Thankfully? I never really ran out of Totally Legitimate reasons to send him away to learn or do something. Proper tea making. Door maintenance. Eastern embroidery. Something, anything, and off you go! Bye bye~☆!

Unfortunately. He got faster. Better and better at learning. Mastering skills. Coming BACK. Showing up to stand in the corner, silent and looming, like an omen of death. Those damn eyes. The fucking family eyes!

I don't have them. And NOT as, my Father would have me believe, because I "take after my Mother". But because I am not genetically related to the Duke. I have GOLD eyes. When I wear the right shade of green? I pass. So I am condemned to forever wear green. Don't even really like it much. But?

I am pretty damn sure? I was just... pretty.

A lovely, orphaned, golden eyed child that COULD pass as his. So why not? It was a whim that payed off. Unlike in the original stories, I imagine. Since I am by FAR the best behaved child in this entire house. Ha! Suck it, bio-kids, the adopted one's the favorite! Maybe should have been less lil bitchs.

....I carefully do not say.

Those are INSIDE thoughts.

Fuck. He's still LOOMING. Isn't he? Go awaaaaaay. Where is Protag-chan? Come be doe eyed and busty! Trip adorably! Go "kyaaa~" or something! I feel body heat and freeze. He's leaning over my shoulder to pick up the teapot, pour me another cup. I can FEEL the barest graze of his knuckles against my back, from where he's gripped my chair. The smell of his aftershave almost hauntingly pleasant.

Like he KNEW exactly what smells I liked most. Went out of his way to find one that best suited my preference. Coincidence. Please, PLEASE be a coincidence! I do not turn my head. Keep my eyes locked straight ahead. Barely breathing.

He steps back.

The new pot is sharp and herbal. Almost bitter. I force myself to drink. Can't see a sugar dish, and REFUSE to turn around and ask for one. Ignore. IGNORE. My pounding heart calms. My muscles slowly start to relax.

It... it IS weird, though, now that I think about it? That Protag-chan hasn't reached the Dukedom yet. She should have. God only knows I sent Creepy to the capital enough times, with enough highly specific instructions, that he should've had his meet cute's and dates by the dozen. Been half way in love. So... why...?

Huh.

Dizzy.

The taste of tea sits wrong on my tounge. I stop drinking as the world sways. Letting the cup fall from my hand. Splatter, roll, and shatter. I try desperately to stand. A gentle gloved hand catches my elbow, supporting me. I turn. Giddy eyes. Triumphant, wide, spring green eyes. Too green to be gold, too gold to be green.

An almost cruel, mocking, yet loving grin.

Another hand slides around my waist, braces me against his side. Gleeful little murmurs, too pleased to be reassuring. You. You did this! You DRUGGED ME!

I can barely move, body relaxing against my command, going limp, as he draws me close. Presses his face against the side of my head, against my temple. A deep, shuddering breathe, that he savors like wine. I try to pull free but can not. Feel his lips pull into a vicious grin against my skin. Hands begin to run in gentle, claiming, exploration.

And at last the drugs kick in... the wo..rld..

G..oes..

Dar..k........

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡

Day 31 : Trick Or Teat

【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.

『Word count』 :  7.01k

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader] 

[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.

I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡

Check out the mini series masterlist -> [Here]

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two

The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.

Vampires.

You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.

You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.

"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.

Why, you may ask?

Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.

"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."

His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.

"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.

“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.

“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.

“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.

“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.

-

Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.

What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.

“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.

You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.

You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.

-

This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.

His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”

His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.

A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”

Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.

“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.

You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.

“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”

Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.

He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”

His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”

The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”

You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.

A blood sucking vampire.

You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….

“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.

-

Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—

"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.

"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...

"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.

So there's three of them that live here?

"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.

"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.

He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."

You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."

"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."

You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."

Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”

Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”

Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.

There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.

-

Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.

Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.

“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.

“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.

And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.

“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.

“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.

“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.

“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.

“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?

“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.

“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.

“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?

“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.

“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.

“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”

His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.

“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.

“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…

“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.

“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.

“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.

“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.

-

The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.

“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.

“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.

“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”

“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”

You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”

“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.

“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.

You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.

“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.

“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”

The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”

You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”

“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.

Pathetic human. Digusting pig.

Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.

“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”

Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.”  he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”

The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.

“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.

“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.

He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.

-♥︎

[hvneybuckin]

tashi duncan

afab reader, age gap (reader’s in college), cheating, implications of oral sex & fingering, tashi’s kind of manipulative

18+. minors dni

950 words (not proofread)

Tashi knows real talent when she sees it.

She can tell when someone has the potential. The passion, the drive. When they just need that one last push to get them exactly where they need to be. Tashi saw that in you.

The way you held yourself off and on the court was admirable, maybe because of the fact that she saw a little bit of herself in you. Of course, you still had room to improve (i.e, your serve was the smallest bit off), but you were constantly crushing your competition regardless.

You could go so far with just a little bit of help, Tashi knew this. If you kept this up, the U.S Open could be right around the corner.

However, when you received the email in which she informed you of how much she adored your matches, going on to say that she’d be pleased to speak with you sometime soon— you definitely weren’t as composed as you are on the court. With trembling hands, you sent a short and simple email back, praying that it made you look professional.

The two of you agreed to meet at the hotel she and her husband stayed at. The building was humongous— it left you feeling like a fish out of water as soon as you stepped through the large glass doors. If rich people had a smell, that was what this hotel smelled like. Even the lobby was pretty big, decorated with modern art that claimed to have some kind of symbolism behind it.

It wasn’t long until Tashi had come downstairs to welcome you into her hotel room.

She looked so much more intimidating in person, feeling as if every time you made eye contact, you shrunk in size.

“I’ve seen you play. You have a special talent for tennis, something that’s rare in most players these days. You just landed a Uniqlo partnership, right? Imagine what else you could accomplish in the future.”

Her praise makes your cheeks flush. You’re afraid that if you try to look directly at her, the words you plan to say will die right there in your mouth— so you speak into your freshly made cup of coffee (courtesy of Tashi).

“Thank you, Mrs. Donaldson, that’s a really big deal coming from you.”

“Tashi’s fine. There’s really no need to thank me either. I wanted to talk to you because I think you can be even greater than you already are, hon. You just need someone to help you get there.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand what she was implying.

“Oh. Well, Tashi…I appreciate the offer but, don’t you already have a lot on your plate? You’re already coaching your husband, and you also have a kid— I don’t wanna cause you any stress.”

You could hear her chuckle, your eyes fleeting back up to meet her own.

“I think I can risk getting a wrinkle or two. Can you risk losing the career of a lifetime?”

Huh.

You stay silent, letting her words swirl about in your head. Your eyes are reluctant to meet hers, but you force yourself to do it anyway.

“No. I can’t.”

“You can’t.”

Tashi’s eyes urge you to say something, anything more. Your fingers trace the edge of the mug in your hands. You knew what she was waiting for. The words die on your tongue, your hesitation preventing you from speaking further. You could use the help, you knew that.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

When you accepted, you thought you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. Key word; thought. It started off harmless. Tashi was the teacher, and you were the student. She was helping you, training you to become better.

However, it was starting to feel less and less innocent.

It felt less innocent whenever she’d come up behind you, carefully helping you fix your stance and you could feel her lip graze your ear.

It felt less innocent when she invited you out for lunch and dinner, disguising it as a chance for the two of you to discuss future matches.

You knew it definitely wasn’t innocent anymore once Tashi’s head was slotted comfortably in between your thighs.

And for some strange reason, you didn’t quite seem to have a problem with it.

Maybe because of the fact that whenever you’d voice your doubts, she’d tell you that it was fine, that she was just trying to “calm your nerves”.

In fact, she’d tell you that every single time— right before burying her fingers in you, hitting that one spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

It made you forget just for that moment; then the feeling was back just as quickly as it left.

“…Are you sure we should be doing this? It doesn’t feel right,” You took her silence as a sign to keep talking, Tashi continuing to put her shirt on while you rambled. “What about Art? Or— God, even worse, what about Lily? Jesus, both of our careers are on the line—“

“Do you wanna be a good tennis player?” The way she cut you off was expected, but for some reason it rendered you speechless. You didn’t respond, but instead blinked. Then you resorted to averting your gaze, head hanging low with…shame? Embarrassment? You weren’t entirely sure.

Tashi’s hand moved to grip your jaw, forcing your eyes back onto hers. “Do you…want to be a good fucking tennis player?”

You nodded— or, well, attempted to.

“Uh-huh, well, good players don’t question their coaches. Go get dressed, we have to see your dietitian.”

She lets you go, and you move to locate your panties— because professionals do what they’re told.

from aiden — AH i tried my best with the characterization but it might be just the slightest bit off 😭 IDK i wanted to get smth else out rq so i hope u guys like it eek !!!!!!!

[moutainrusing]

pen pals

943 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

On the other side of town, there was a hospital, where children in need of long-term care spent their days and nights. On this side of town, there was a boarding school, where children in need of discipline spent their days and nights.

As an act of further discipline, the Headteacher, Professor McGonagall, had decided that the students of Diagon Academy should write a letter to a patient in Pomfrey’s Hospital, and forge a new friendship, become pen pals for life.

According to Sirius, she was delusional. But he still wrote a letter.

- - -

With his incredibly bony, stick-like, shaking fingers, Remus wrote a letter to someone in the rich, stuffy boarding school, who would apparently become his pen pal for life. (Unlikely.) Firstly, he was Remus. No one wanted to be his friend. Even if they weren’t in their right mind, he was a sick, frail loser, unable to do anything except stutter and sit in awkward silence.

Secondly, the people at Diagon Academy were judgemental snobs. Posh and pretentious and loaded. Why would he befriend that?

- - -

Minerva and Poppy sorted through the letters in companionable chatter, pairing a student with a patient in a match they hoped would lead to a long-lasting friendship.

Once the pairs had been made, the children could keep addressing letters to their pen pal; the school Prefects and hospital wardens would be able to deliver the letters by reading the name on the envelope, ensuring the children got the privacy they needed to open up to each other.

Minerva wanted the slightly troubled (okay, very troubled) students at her school to learn how to care for someone who didn’t live in their narrow-minded world, and Poppy wanted the minorly self-loathing (okay, very self-loathing) patients at her hospital to open up to the possibilities of the world around them. Together, the couple had come up with the idea of pen pals, and together, they wanted this to work so badly.

“I think we’ve found the perfect pair,” Minerva commented as she held Remus’s and Sirius’s letters side-by-side.

Poppy grinned. “I bet those two’ll end up more than friends.”

- - -

Dear pen pal (for life, apparently; I think the nurse may be barmy, but she’s well-intentioned and she’s my favourite and I want it to be known that I am doing this for her. So if I make an embarrassment of myself, it was for her. And I’ll never even get out of this hospital, so I don’t care if you think I’m weird.)

I’m supposed to write about myself. I’m fifteen. I’m a boy. I’ve been sick for as long as I can remember and I look like undercooked pastry. I like reading. There’s not a lot you can do in hospital. But you do get stickers. I’m actually fond of my sticker album. You get a sticker for every injection you take, and when I was younger, I used to get stickers for talking, because I was and am an anti-social freak. I’m really selling this.

Anyway, I’ve organised the pages of my sticker album because I have nothing better to do. There’s a page for leaves from deciduous trees, animals that specifically live in the savanna, fruits which are FRUITS and that includes tomatoes, and a lot of other fully sorted pages. This is my legacy. I might die any day but I still made this impact.

Look, if you’ve read this far, I’ll have to assume you’re as weird as I am.

Yours,

Remus Lupin

Sirius traced over the wobbly penmanship of his pen pal with a grin on his face. Remus was funny. And nice. Those seemed like such simple adjectives, but Sirius meant them to such an intense degree.

He got to writing back about how he was so much weirder than Remus. Although Remus must already know that from Sirius’s introductory letter.

- - -

Dear pen pal,

Minnie, our lovely Headteacher, and my future wife, even though she’s resistant to my charms at the moment (I don’t know why, I’m literally the hottest hunk of meat in this school I’m kidding sorry too soon) (also it may be because she’s gay and so am I) anyway, Minnie came up with the fanciful idea of pen pals. She really hopes this will mean something, and I don’t wanna let her down now, do I?

I mean, I also hope this means something because she has POISONED my brain with these delusional fantasies, and so has my best mate. James really believes this will benefit the country or something from the way he talks.

So, about myself. (It may seem I like talking about myself. I hate it. I’d rather show people who I am.) So, I’m not gonna talk about myself! I’m mysterious like that. Oh-so-interesting.

Like, yesterday, James and I put bouillon cubes into all the shower-heads and the boys ended up smelling like chicken broth (us included). It was fucking GROSS. And fucking awesome. Minnie immediately knew it was us though. My mystery works on everyone but her (another reason we’re soulmates, I should tell her).

LOTS OF LOVE

SIRIUS BLACK, EL AMOR DE TU VIDA

Remus actually snorted. He’d been worried, initially, to see ‘POISONED’ glaring at him in swirling cursive when he cast a cursory glance down the letter, but then he saw ‘THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE’ in Spanish, and found that Sirius was a hyperbolic little shit.

He proceeded to write a letter to tell him exactly that. Oh, and another prank idea, because why not? It wasn’t like he’d be suspected. Maybe he could help Sirius and James with an original idea that couldn’t possibly be pinned on them.

[sillystringpasta]

i would kill to see a Home Alone adjacent AU with tim drake. teeny tiny timmy drake, when jason is still robin.

the premise is this:

tim's still feral, still stalks the streets at night, and hasn't yet learned physical combat. but he has unlimited time, and the bats for neighbours, so he has mechanical knowhow already by sheer want of... idk, getting closer to the wayne family through buisiness? being a good heir to drake industry's RnD? being a freak?

he also has Jack Drake's shotgun at home, and a lot of money.

the drake parents bring something home from their most recent archaeological dig. this thing is maybe alien, maybe tech, maybe magic. they don't know that, but they do know it's old, so they add it to their manor's collection.

and then they, canon typically, leave.

so tim has this artefact in his manor's vault, and he studies it because his parents(!) brought it home(!!!). he doesn't figure it out at the start, and he quickly gets distracted, because some crooks come for it.

here is the story my brain has cooked so far:

it starts with the local mob groups' lowest goons who can be trusted not the drop The Artefact. maybe falcone?

tim calls the police on them as they break in, and lists the address as the drakes, the rich ones, so the cops actually help.

tim doesn't know why mobster goons just tried to break in, but he does know that the batman is his neighbour. tim knows that he has some sort of security system from the wayne manor galas (he has, after all, not managed to take pictures of where the batmobile is after investigating the garage).

so tim comes to the totally rational conclusion that he needs to trick out the manor. but, like, subtly, so his parents don't get mad when they come back.

as he's making the traps, for fun mostly, serious goons from falcone, and some guys from penguin show up. they fight each other, and tim, again, calls the cops. they take the unconcious (and shot) goons off the front lawn, and ask tim about being Home Alone.

after some gaslighting, tim builds serious traps.

and thank god he does, because black mask goons show up. and a bm enforcer. ruh-roh. they somehow get taken out by the traps, and tim chugs so much coffee making new ones that he blacks out and can't remember some of the new traps he makes (hello chekov! we've already seen you here :).

then comes the riddler himself, having heard about the puzzle traps, and wanting to just, y'know, play a game. after finding out it's a kid stepping on his toes, he's gonna go, but then tim offers to buy some trap components from the riddler. a lucrative allience is established.

riddler goes to try and find out what the other bosses are trying to steal. catwoman catches wind of the investigation from his questioning; that people are struggling to steal a valuable item from a rich mansion. (tim also learns this is about The Artefact from the riddler, when he drops off some... materials.)

catwoman interrupts a theft attempt from... idk, deadshot, or deathstroke, hired (by luthor?) to get the Artefact. after getting beat up by tim, both are horrified by tim's living situation, ironically the mercenary's more than catwoman because they are Dads tm.

so now tim has two gotham rogue's and a mercenary on his side, who help make more traps (and subtly make them lethal) and give him some shooting lessons with his dad's gun. which is good, because the moment they leave, the court of owls show up, having gotten word from the goons to the social elite about the drake family's new Artefact.

the talon's don't die from the new lethal traps, but they do get their zombie selves stuck in them. the league of assassins show up. the talons were given orders to not be seen. being unseen is standard LoA operating procedure. they kill each other unitl the only one left is a young pru. (from canon red robin's brucequest, if you don't remember her.)

the bodies are dumped outside, into the yard, by being trebucheted off a balcony. poison ivy turns around and leaves without even getting started. she takes the bodies with her. whatever is pumped into the talon's is great ferilizer, and the basic nitrogen in blood is pretty good too.

things escalate more.

the Artefact begins to glow in a lonely vault. a heavy hitter shows up, and so does Klarion, attracted to the chaos. they fight. batman is distracted from this by investigating what is happening in the lower levels of the gangs, and why the riddler is smuggling so much weird, random shit. no seriously, why is he smuggling silly string??? use it to start inefficiant fires? (fun fact, ss is highly flammable.) and the industrial amounts of glitter??? Riddle me this, Batman, who is the world's largest consumer of glitter?

miraculously, drake manor is undamaged by the fight.

tim wasn't at the manor that night, he was stalking batman again. he will never know that this happened either.

but pru was there, deciding if she should stay or return to the league. this makes her choose to stay. tim gets a sister, and he doesn't even have to date her first!

pru also helps tim get ready for school the next morning, and is at the manor during the rest of the day, scoping out the interior.

alfred pennyworth does notice the lightshow, and he goes over to talk to the neighbours himself that morning, because really, he can handle some noise disturbances, he handled young master bruce after all.

he knocks on the door.

the riddler is inside, setting up silly string streamers and glitter with a few other rogues, goons, mercenaries, a baby assassin, and some small children of deadshot/deathstroke.

it's tim's birthday.

alfred considers this situation very seriously, and decides to bring master jason Robin over, to moniter the situation (relax and socialize with other kids).

tim comes home to a surprise party, from people who are concerned about him, and care for him.

it's all he's ever wanted.

(the wish granting Artefact dissolves into shimmery dust.)

the party goes smashingly. it's great. there's a massive cake, and no clowns jump out of it.

tim has spent the last month being harassed by superpowered and unpowered crooks. he goes to another room to cry from happiness, when the distinctive sound of one of his traps goes off. it's not one he remembers making. he hears an adult man swearing.

he gets his dad's gun.

a large figure bursts into the party. tim reacts before anyone else.

he shoots.

it's batman.

tim shoots his shotgun at batman, who broke in thinking alfred had been abducted and used to sign jason out of school.

catwoman catches it on video.

tim is mortified. so is batman. everyone else thinks it's the best party ever.

the party continues. tim is presented with several adoption offers. he cries again, and says yes to all of them.

tim has a vigilante's happily ever after.

[slow-motionlovepotion]

𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  boston era! joel miller x f!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.6k

𝒂/𝒏: i woke up at 5am this morning and smashed this out rather than working on any of my other numerous wips ~ no beta (or edit), we die like men - minors do not interact.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ ~ sex work, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), slightly coercive behaviour, dirty talk (joel miller has a filthy mouth), creampie, mentions of drug dealing & murder (joel is a drug dealing murderer but that's canon so it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone), possessive!joel, kinda mean joel, joel is a tease, degrading language (whore, multiple times), idk i think that's everything

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: pleasure has a price and Joel is willing to pay whatever it takes to have you

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ⇢

Joel often heard talk from the other smugglers, of pretty girls that’d sink to their knees for a few ration cards or a couple of pills. He pretends not to, but he listens, acting like he couldn’t care less about their sordid activities. 

“What about you Miller? You don’t fancy a visit to one of our girls?” Some ratty 20-something asks one day. Joel just rolled his eyes.

“You really think I’d pay for some whore you’ve all had your dicks in?” His disgust is false, an act. In truth, he’s no better than them, couldn’t care less how many guys a woman has fucked before him. 

Besides he’s got Tess. 

Except now he doesn’t. Doesn’t have a warm body to sink into, to fuck his stress out on. She’d cut him off, rightfully so, when she implied she wanted more and he continued to offer her exactly the same. 

So when a comment is made in passing one night: “You hear Danny’s girls got into the whoring business?” His ears perk up. 

He knows Danny, knew Danny, before Danny was resting not entirely in peace. If you were to ever leave the QZ and see a guy who looks an awful lot like Danny but, say, had mushrooms for eyes, no you didn’t. 

Tess had been the one to deliver the bad news to you while Joel had stood uncomfortably in the hallway, listening to your broken sobs through the door. 

Maybe that’s why Joel finds himself knocking at your door, long after curfew, just returned from a run where he’d listened to those arseholes describe in great detail how they’d be paying you a visit, all while Joel kept his back to them, hiding the hardness in his jeans as he’d pictured what he’d do to you himself. He really was no better than them. 

“Joel Miller. To what do I owe this pleasure?” You smile but it’s tight and it doesn’t reach your eyes 

“Can I come in?” He asks like this is normal behaviour but that’s the Joel you know, always direct and to the point no matter how rude it comes across. Gritting your teeth you step back, allowing him into your apartment. 

“Nice place” he surveys your home, bathed in a soft pinkish light from the lamp next to your bed, a book discarded on the messy sheets. 

“What do you want Joel?” You try phrasing your question differently to get him to get to the point. You’re tired, it’s been a long day and Joel is not easy company. 

“I heard you’ve become a bit of an entrepreneur, started your own business” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you and you want to slink back to the shadows at his confrontation but you don’t, you stand firm, refusing to buckle under his stare. 

You’d expected word to travel faster, you’d started working about a month after Danny’s untimely demise, all of a sudden fending for yourself, no longer benefiting from the additional earnings afforded the smugglers. You’d tried to keep away from that business, only taking clients that you knew had no connection with the likes of Danny’s friends and Joel Miller but maybe you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought. 

“Do you have a problem with that?” You challenge. It’s awfully rich of him, coming into your home and giving you his opinion on your job, like his line of work is any better. He’s nothing but a glorified drug dealer and a murderer. 

“Of course not. Why’d you think I’m here?" His tone is serious, this is not a social call, it’s business, your business. 

“I thought you were with Tess?” You ask, more so to give yourself time to actually take in what he’s saying, not because you have any issues providing your services to men of an entangled nature. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions” he shoots back

“I don’t, usually. Just looking out for myself, last thing I want is Tess comin’ around here thinking I fucked her man” 

Joel sighs, he’s not her man. Though he’s not surprised you would think that, people thought that before they started fucking and apparently still think that even after they’ve stopped. 

“You ain’t gotta worry about that darlin’” 

“Payment upfront” you concede and Joel nods, pulling a stack of ration cards out of his pocket. 

“What’ll this get me?” He places his payment on your kitchen table and you eye the stack, easily enough ration cards to keep you living comfortably for months. 

“Whatever you want” you say, you’ve done this for much less. But had you not been enticed by the thick wad of cards, you might’ve reconsidered that offer considering everything you know about Joel.

He thinks it over, dropping heavily into the corner of your sofa, one foot on the floor, the other muddying the already stained fabric. 

“C'mere” he commands and when you’re close enough he points to the other end of the sofa “Facin’ me” 

You sit, bringing your knees up to your chest, your t-shirt does nothing to cover your modesty but your shins are blocking the view Joel really wants. 

“Spread those legs darlin’, show me what I’m payin for” he tilts his head expectantly. 

You spread your knees, keeping one leg bent and dropping the other to the floor, your new position almost a mirror of Joel’s. You know he wants more, reaching down you pull the scrap of lace to the side, exposing yourself to his gaze. 

He lets out a groan at the sight of you, cunt glistening despite the fact he’s not even touched you yet. 

“Pretty girl” he breathes. His eyes flick to his offering on the table “Whatever I want?” He confirms and you nod “Ah-ah, words darlin’. I wanna hear you” 

“Yes Joel, whatever you want” his hand flexes on his thigh and you can see the growing hardness in his jeans. 

“Take it off” his command gives you some idea of how this is going to go, he’s going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it. 

Your hands find the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips, slipping them down your legs and when you reach your ankles Joel holds his hand out, smirking when you drop the fabric into his waiting hand. 

“And the rest darlin’” You pull your t-shirt over your head, revealing yourself to be bare underneath. The t-shirt drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you lean back, returning to your position, legs spread and on show for him.

Your fingers automatically slide between your legs, spreading your wetness up to your clit, circling the bundle gently. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you, hands quickly working at his belt and jeans, freeing his length with a relieved sigh. 

Thick fingers wrap around his even thicker cock and it’s like your own personal fantasy, Joel Miller thrusting into his fist, just for you.

You increase the pressure on your clit but keep your pace slow, teasing. It’s a dangerous game to play, acting without instruction but while Joel is watching you with heavy eyes and he’s not telling you to stop, you continue, dipping your fingers into your cunt, bringing them up to show him the wetness coating your fingers. 

He doesn’t stop you when you return your fingers to your clit, doesn’t stop you when you pick up the pace or when your breathing starts getting harder. 

In fact he puts on his own show, spitting into his palm and picking up his own pace, twisting his hand over the head, his free hand tracing abstract patterns over his thigh. 

You could get off like this, you’re going to get off like this, legs tensing and core tightening. A gasp gets caught in your throat as your orgasm builds, almost there, and then it’s gone. 

A growl rumbles in Joel’s chest when his hand grabs your ankle and you’re pulled flat on your back. He’s hovering over you, hand pinning both of yours above your head, your thighs hooked over his. 

“Not gonna come on your fingers” he pants by way of explanation, pushing the tip of his cock between your soaked folds, catching your clit and nudging at the entrance to your cunt. “Gonna come on my cock” 

Joel buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp thrust, the stretch is so satisfying it sends a shudder up your spine that has your back arching and your hips tilting down into his, desperate to feel the ache that comes with being too full.

“Look at that, got my entire cock buried in you and you still want more” Joel taunts you, his arm slipping under the arch in your back as he withdraws and pushes back in again. 

“Joel” you gasp as he fucks into you, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. His pace is unrelenting, thick cock dragging against your walls, the slight curve catching just right on that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake and your head go foggy. 

“Say it again darlin’” it comes out as a snarl but there’s a hint of a plea in there. 

“Fuck Joel, oh yes just like that” you push yourself further into him, his arm tightening to keep you there. 

Your shoulders burn and your fingers are going numb with the restricting grip of Joel’s hand around your wrists. It’s intimate, too intimate, Joel’s breath hot on your face and his entire body flush against yours. Joel must think so too because he pulls out, hand around your waist flipping you over so your face is pushed into the cushions and your hips are raised. Before you can even catch your breath he’s forcing himself back into you.

“Fuck, so tight. Especially for a whore” you don’t expect your cunt to clench at that and Joel definitely doesn’t expect it either. He lets out a shocked laugh “You like that? Being called a whore?” He pulls out and slides back in, the action and his question pulling a sinful moan from you. 

His pace from this angle isn’t so unrelenting but it’s harder and deeper, his hips and thighs flush against yours as he bottoms out, pulling out so you can just feel him resting at your entrance, so you feel the stretch of every thrust, over and over and over again. 

“Such a whore, letting anyone fuck this cunt for a couple ration cards” his hand grabs your hair, tugging so your back is pressed to his chest and his arm wraps around your waist, thumb flicking over your sensitive nipple. The hand in your hair pulls, turning you to face towards the table and his payment “My whore now. Those cards should be plenty enough that you don’t need to do this with anyone else” 

Like this, his cock nudges that spot inside you again and this time you cry out, ragged moans falling from your lips with every snap of his hips. And his words, god his words, wash over you like a too hot shower burning your skin. 

“All mine, just for me. Not gonna let anyone else touch you” You don’t realise that’s a question until you feel a sharp smack to your rear. “Tell me you’re not gonna let anyone else touch you”

“Not gonna” you shake your head as you speak “only you” 

“Tha’s my girl” he murmurs and oh you like that, the idea of being Joel’s girl, being the one he spends his nights buried inside. 

“Yes, your girl, just for you” His mouth is on your neck and he bites down as you speak, sucking bruises onto your skin. 

If it was anyone else you’d tell them to stop, no one wants a whore marked by another man but he owns you now so you let him. Hand reaching up to grab his hair, keeping his mouth on you, giving him permission. 

His free hand works its way between your legs, flicking your clit with practised fingers and you’re suddenly right on the edge, release within reach, you just need a little bit more. As if Joel can sense exactly what you need his mouth breaks from your neck and his lips find your ear 

“Is my whore gonna come for me?” He teases, pulling a frantic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ from you. “C’mon then” 

The waves that had been steadily building crash over you, shaking violently as your cunt tightens and flutters around his cock, pulling him in deeper. Light bursts behind your eyes and your hands claw at his arm keeping you upright, nails biting into his skin. You don’t hear the scream you let out but you feel it burning in your chest and your throat. Your ears are ringing, muffling the sound of Joel talking you through it. 

When you finally return to yourself Joel is still thrusting into you, your head resting heavily on his shoulder behind you.

“Gonna come in this cunt, fill you up” that snaps you back to reality 

“No. Joel you can’t- can’t do that” you panic slightly, wanting to push him away but he’s too strong, grip too tight.

And really, if you’re being entirely honest, you don’t actually want to push him away, you want to take what he gives you but it’s unrealistic and you can’t let yourself want that. 

“Yeah I can, you’re mine now. Or have you forgotten already?” You shake your head, no you haven’t forgotten but no he still can’t come inside you “don’t worry’ll get you the mornin’ after pill” 

His words are slurred and his thrusts are losing rhythm and you realise he’s holding back, waiting for you to say yes. His arm around you squeezes in warning and you can feel him tense behind you. This is it, the ultimate trust exercise and it’s now or never. Your hand entangles with his around your waist and you nod. 

“Fuck, yeah. Want it, wanna feel you fill me” His fingers tighten under yours and he picks up speed, fucking into you sloppily and panting against your temple. 

With a final thrust and a groan you can feel in your own chest Joel spills into you, holding himself so deep it’s painful, ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on your walls with every drop of his release. 

“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me” he breathes hot into your ear, hips twitching as he comes down from his high. He doesn’t let you go straight away, naked frame held tight against his fully clothed one. You untangle your hand from his when your legs start to ache, knees protesting as they dig into the well worn sofa, slumping forward when Joel finally releases you. 

Your body is exhausted, eyes heavy and stinging with the effort of keeping them open. Joel’s up and redressed before you even think about reaching for your t-shirt, uncaring as you lay naked on your sofa, marked body on display for him. 

Joel’s calloused fingers trace the blossoming bruises that litter your neck and shoulders, his touch surprisingly tender. His hands find yours and help you up so you’re sitting, holding your t-shirt out to slip into, the marks on your neck are visible above the neckline of your shirt and a dark sense of pride washes over him.

“I meant what I said, enough cards there to keep you comfortable for a while, don’t wanna hear you’ve been whoring yourself out again” His confession takes you by surprise, you honestly hadn’t thought he meant it, men say all sorts of things in the throes of passion, you’d know.

The realisation sends a shiver down your spine, you’re his girl now and you don't mind that one bit, the kept woman of Joel Miller.

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader): Part TWO

“May I get three shrimp tacos with lemon water, please.”, you stated in front of the waitress. You watched as she wrote down your order. Short, middle-age white woman with light brown eyes and brown hair. She had a scar across her lip, probably from when she was a little kid. 

“That’s an interesting scar. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”, you asked, examining it, allowing curiosity to win.

“Oh this  scar was from when I was a kid. Fell off a bike and landed in a ditch filled with branches full speed. Thank God I didn’t die.”, she laughed looking at you and then turning her attention to Marcus and Mike.

“You two are here all the time. Same orders?”

“Yes ma’am.”, they replied in unison

“Okay, I'll bring your drinks shortly.”, she replied, leaving and heading to the back.

You watched as she left, examining the restaurant and families that were enjoying themselves. You must’ve been staring too long because when you shifted your eyes back at Marcus and Mike, they were already staring at you.

“What is your problem?”, Marcus laughed, staring at you as if he had just seen something suspicious.

“What do you mean?”, you replied, straightening your posture.

“I mean, you’re always staring at people. People who always stare at others tend to be some crazy motherfuckers, I read that in the newspaper.”

“Now where the hell did you read that at Marcus, because it sounds like you’re just pulling that out of your ass.”, Mike scoffed looking at him with pure disgust.

“Look, I'm just saying.”

“Well..you don’t think it's odd that you invited a “crazy motherfucker” out to have lunch with you and Mike.”, you mocked leaning into the table. 

“I like to observe people, so sorry if that’s a problem.”, you continued

“It’s fine, but anyways…you should tell us a little about yourself.”Mike suggested grabbing the drinks from the waitress and passing them out. “We’ve been around each other for a while now and you haven’t told us much about yourself.”, he continued.

“Pay.”, you pointed while holding up a drink. They’re already getting on your nerves so they might as well pay for your lunch.

“Of course..he will.”, Marcus answered while side-eyeing Mike. 

                 “Really…”

“What, you’re the one that was born rich, might as well take advantage of it.”, he laughed, shrugging his shoulders and then turning his attention to you.

You looked down at your drink and then back at them. You weren’t comfortable with sharing things when it comes to yourself. You never genuinely know people nowadays, no matter how long you’ve known them.

“What do you want to know?” you asked, looking at Mike.

“Where are you from? Are with anyone-”

“How many people have you killed?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”, you asked confusingly. You sometimes wondered about them. Were they special? Maybe sexually frustrated? You wanted to figure out a way to flip the conversation onto both of them.

“We asked because we’ve had several huge moments where we had to kill A LOT of people. Two of them being drug lords and their crews, and one of them being a part of the cartel.”, Marcus continued, turning his attention to Mike.

“Yeah, I had several head shots…bodies were thrown everywhere. We even nearly died.”, Mike added as if he was reliving through the whole operation again.

“What about your son?”, you asked, turning your attention to Mike. “I’m sorry if this is too personal but remembering how he had shot you that night and being the reason Captain isn’t here anymore. How are you taking that?”, you continued taking a quick glance at the waitress that was heading towards your table.

“I think about him everyday. Knowing that I missed out on watching him grow up and the kind of relationship that I had with his mother. Even though she didn’t know that I was an undercover cop and me not knowing that she was pregnant. It’s hard to think about.”, Mike explained, grabbing his plate while smiling at the waitress as a “thank you” gesture.

“He had a baby with a cartel witch bitch. Can you believe that!”Marcus yelled excitedly. “Gotta be the freakiest shit you’ve ever done.”, he continued laughing while patting Mike on his back. 

Mike was in his head, you could tell. Although he was rubbing the back of his neck and had a slight grin on his face, you could see that the whole situation between him and his son bothered him. Especially knowing that he may spend life in prison or be on death row because of him.

“Yeah, I heard about it a little after the operation ended. Everyone was talking about it.”, you replied, taking a bite into your taco. It was creamy and very good. You could taste the shrimp, onions and lemons that were in it.

“Yeah, Armando is one strong son of a bitch.”

“Hell, he’s just like you. Ignorant and have one big ass ego. I could tell when he had helped you lift me up when I almost fell into that fire.”, Marcus laughed, shoving his food into his face. You could see crumbs fall onto his t-shirt.

“So that’s his name…Arman-”, before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Marcus' phone going off.

“It’s the wife calling, hold on.”, he said, picking up his phone and answering.

You and Mike continued eating until you noticed a shift in Marcus’s voice, causing the both of you to look up at him. You didn’t know what was going on but you knew that something wasn’t right.

“Marcus…”, Mike whispered looking at you and then back at him. You didn’t want to say anything because you knew that at some point the conversation would end. You looked around to see if anything was odd with the place, however everything seemed to be normal. You watched as Marcus hung up the phone and looked at you and Mike with a worried and concerned look on his face.

“What is it?”you asked, throwing your hands up in a, “hurry-up-and-answer” manner. 

“Captain. The news.”, Marcus answered, looking at both you and Mike for a response.

“Captain, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”, you asked moving your food to the side to lean towards Marcus in confusion. 

What the hell does “Captain” mean? And what does he have to do with the news?

“We have to figure out a way to turn on the tv up there.”, he replied pointing at the television that was hanging on the wall.

All three of you guys moved your head and scanned around the restaurant to see if you could catch a worker’s attention. Eventually a worker saw one of you guys and was asked if he could put the news on. Although the waiter was only gone for a couple seconds. The silence made it feel like forever. A word wasn’t said, but the conversation that was happening through our eyes was saying everything underneath the sun.

Mike took a deep sigh and you all turned around to face the TV to see what was going on. It was about Captain Howard. He was being framed for smuggling millions of dollars and for working with the Cartel. You watched and you  listened. Your breaths felt hitched and the tension in the air became thick as the reporter showed a picture of Captain Howard. Even though the picture of him was nice, the words that were being said about him weren't. It felt like betrayal and you could tell through Mike’s body language that was what he felt.

“Howard wouldn’t have done that ... .not smuggle money  nor be a part of any connections with the Cartel.”, Mike whispered, turning back around to face you and Marcus. You were silent until you remembered the meeting that was happening this morning.

“The meeting…this morning. That is what the meeting was about!”

“Meeting?”Mike questioned confusingly.

“Remember when we first walked into the station this morning. The cop told us about the meeting that was happening, remember…!”, you explained getting up.

You watched as Marcus and Mike face lit up, confirming that they remembered the conversation between you and the cop. After having to leave lunch early due to finding out the situation with Captain Howard, you rushed back to the station to find everyone standing around talking about the news. Marcus and Mike never said a word but through their energy, you could feel it. Each step that you three took felt heavy and the hallway felt like it was getting longer every stride. Once you reached the door, you opened it and allowed Marcus and Mike to walk in first.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”Mike angrily yelled making his way through the room.

You could tell that everyone that was sitting was timid, except one guy. The table looked way clearer than earlier and the tension that was in the room this morning, left. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the news, Mike.”, the guy at the head of the table said.

“Hell…The whole damn world did.”, Marcus scoffed looking at you. You looked back at him in pure confusion. You felt that what Marcus said was true but was wondering why no one was answering Mike’s question.

“No seriously, what is going on? Why is Howard on the news?”, you asked walking  towards the guy at the head of the table.

“We’ve found evidence of your former Captain Conrad Howard smuggling millions of dollars while working with the cartel.”, the guy explained, holding up a folder and pointing at a drive filled with “evidence”.

“WE ALL KNOW THAT’S BULLSHIT! I MEAN C'MON, THE MAN IS DEAD!”Mike yelled looking back at you, then Marcus and then the guy.

You stood there in disbelief. What kind of evidence did they have on Howard? What was “going on” behind closed doors? Millions of questions started going through your head, that you felt needed to be answered. You felt the need to say something however you know that this will be more personal for Mike and Marcus rather than you.

“I mean…c’mon Rita…you believe this?”Mike sighed, turning to look at Rita while walking towards her for answers. Rita took Captain Howard's place once he was killed. A Hispanic woman who stands around 5 '6, who can be mean if she has to,and  knows how to take charge without being easily influenced. However the way it looks now, you felt differently. You watched as Rita got up and walked towards Mike.

“Seriously Rita. It’s obvious that our Captain is being framed.”, Marcus added, looking at Rita. You could tell that Mike wanted Rita to side with him, he was searching her face for an answer but hell even from a mile away, you could tell what she was about to say.

“Look, I am your  friend. But I am your boss before I am your friend and I have to still do my job.”, She explained looking at Marcus, then at Mike. She took a quick glance at you, and in return you examined her up and down. 

“And my job is to always do my job regardless of my beliefs. So I will go through with the FBI and the charges, I'm sorry but the evidence is clear.”,  she continued crossing her arms and then turning her back to go sit down.

“What happened to “Innocent until proven guilty "?" Marcus asked, looking around the room, no one answered.

“This is bullshit and you all know it. Captain is being framed and we’re going to prove it.”, Mike replied in disgust while looking at every face in the room.

“And if he is innocent…We will clear his name.”, the guy replied, sitting back down.

“Mike lets go.”, Marcus whispered. 

You knew that Mike was hurting by what had just occurred. Someone that he loved was killed and now being framed for a crime that he didn’t do. You, Marcus and Mike turned around to walk out when you noticed a woman walking in. 

“You have a lot of nerves.”, the woman said with a mug on her face.

“Look Judy, I loved your dad. Marcus and I can prove that he’s innocent…trust me.”Mike pleaded, towering over her.

You watched as pure hatred filled her eyes. She looked at Mike as if he had just spit in her face and slapped her.

“TRUST YOU?! YOU’RE THE REASON THAT HE’S DEAD! YOU AND THAT FUCKING BASTARD SON OF YOURS!”she yelled, straightening her back while pointing at him.

“Look…Judy.”, Mike whispered, trying to calm her down. It was obvious she was on a different planet, she was filled with pain but this gave her no reason to be this cold towards him. Especially after the fact that she was just at his wedding.

“NO! You look.”, she demanded, shaking her head in disapproval. 

“If I see your son…When I see your son. I will kill him. And I mean it, I will make him pay. This is my state and I run it, I will make sure that he’s dead and that’s a promise.”, she whispered, tilting her head to read Mike’s face.

“Mike, c’mon.”, you whispered, grabbing his hand while guiding him out.

“You give us a chance, we will show you that Captain was innocent.”, Marcus demanded before shutting the door.

You were standing outside of the room between Mike and Marcus. Beyond the shockness, there was hurt and betrayal from all ends. The people in that room knew who Captain Howard was.  He was a leader. One minute he would cuss you out but in the same breath give you advice. He was always there. You met him before you met the boys and although it wasn’t very long until he died after you met him; the moments you spent with him made it feel like forever.

You could tell that they were on the verge of tears, which was understandable but you also knew that time was ticking before they tried to frame the Captain that the three of you both knew.

“Look, I know this has to be extremely hard to endure. Knowing that the three of you were close and I can’t change that. I will never be able to and I’m not trying to.”, you explained turning around to face Mike and Marcus.

“But.. If you allow me to help you guys out, I can for sure play a role in proving his innocence.”, you continued pulling out your phone to show them your call logs.

“Connections, already?”Marcus laughed, grabbing it.

“Allow me to help, I’m not as “new” as the both of you guys think.”, you smiled, grabbing your phone back and putting it into your pocket.

It was a short silence before Mike agreed and Marcus followed suit. 

“We will need to go visit the prison first.”, Mike replied looking at Marcus and then back at you.

“For what?”Marcus replied, looking at Mike for answers.

     “Armando. He’ll be able to help.”

You’ve heard of the stories about how they like to run their operations, "Russian Roulette Style”. Pulling the trigger until it bangs, especially now knowing that you have to go see Armando, who you’ve never met before nor know much about with his history of crimes. However, with what’s at stake now, Howard being framed and the kind of support that Marcus and Mike needs, Russian roulette it is.

[the-promise-has-been-made]

Like with all Mike Flanagan shows, I have to sit and stew on The Fall of the House of Usher for a bit to let it fully settle, and then I'll probably have to rewatch it to get the full picture.

But what I can say now after the first watch has sat with me for 2 days is that compared to Hill House which dealt with grief, Bly Manor which dealt with love, and Midnight Mass which dealt with faith, House of Usher for me dealt with consequences. Madeline and Roderick were offered the deal that they could basically do whatever the heck they wanted, and all the consequences of their horrible actions would not be suffered by them. Which is essentially what capitalist super-rich experience all the time - and we, the ordinary people, suffer the consequences. It's funny that they thought it worked like that, but I guess they saw their father who suffered no consequences for abuse and for mistreating their mother whom he had ann affair with (if it even was that, and not rape) - but he did suffer consequences, he was strangeled to death by a dead woman. And Griswold, who seemingly suffered no consequences for his fraud and the many crimes of his company, except he did - he was literally cask of Amontillado'ed which is honestly the funniest thing! But for the Ushers, the consequences were suffered not just by the anonymous masses, not just by the thousands upon thousands that suffered and died because of their actions (powerfully depicted by the rain of bodies Verna showed Roderick in their meeting in his tower) and not by Madeline nd Roderick themselves, but very directly, very brutally, by their own children - who all in the span of a few days were driven insane and horrifically killed. They were offered this deal, and while Madeline had no children and made sure afterwards that she never would, Roderick already had two children by that point. He signed that deal not for some hypothetical children he might have, but for Frederick and Tammerlane who were already alive then, and for his 4 as of yet unborn children! They barely hesitated. The Ushers TOOK that choice away from their children, they doomed these children before they were even born. And they doomed even their grandchild before she was born. If that doesn't show the crippling consequences of actions we take today, I don't know what does. Every decision the rich and powerful make today has devastatign consequences for generations to come - not hypothetical, but very real and very dire consequences. But these people don't care about that, because it's not consequences they suffer NOW, so it's not their problem. The Ushers are charicaturized representations of that mindset, their children representations of the generations of people fucked over by their decisions. That's why I am torn between feeling glee at the bizarre demise each of the Usher children met (cause let's face it, they were all assholes and messed up) and at the same time feel immense pity for them (because the fact that they were assholes and messed up was almost not their fault but a product of growing up under the trauma Roderick and Madeleine suffered when they were children, and in a mindset where they genuinely believed being richer than God made them immune to cosequence, and because their fate had been decided for them without their knowledge).

But also, Verna gave EACH of these kids an option. They were all going to die, sure, but they were given the choice to do the right thing. Prospero was offered the chance to end his orgy and his filming of incriminating material but he chose to continue. Camille was offered the chance to turn around and go home and instead die peacefully in her sleep. Napoleon was offered the chance not to lie to his boyfriend and bring a fake 'cat' home, and instead go home, sober up, get his shit together, be honest about his fuck-ups. But he didn't. Victorine was offered the chance to say 'no, this treatment is not ready for human testing' but instead she deceived what she believed to be an innocent, desperate woman into essentially signing away her life. Tammerlane could have stopped her jealousy, her envy, and instead reach out to her husband, actually communicate, actually appreciate him, but she didn't. And Frederick, well, Verna spelled it out for him, didn't she? He had to bring her home, he had to bring out the pliers. He CHOSE to abuse and brutalize and mutilate his wife when she was completely defenseless, helpless, and innocent - yes she had gone to the orgy because she felt unappreciated, unseen, and nothing actually happened, she didn't cheat, her only 'crime' was chosing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He chose to be a monster to her and to their child. All of them could have stopped, could have chosen to reflect on their actions and be better, do BETTER. Instead, they doubled down on their horrific behaviour, and sealed their own fate. All except Lenore, who until the very end chose to be good, chose to be kind, chose to see the best in people. That's why she was the only one to whom Verna appeared with kindness, giving her the certainty that her life mattered, that her sacrifice would save thousands, that her mother would do incredibly good in her name in the future, and she did not die with horror and suffering, she died peaceful, quick, quiet, like Verna had offered all the others. Verna was not so much a demon as she was the personification of "actions, meet consequences".

TLDR: The Fall of the House of Usher is the hardcore version of 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes' and will for me be part of the 'rich people actually suffer consequences for their shitty actions' cinematic universe.

[metalomagnetic]

Missing scene from 'It runs in the blood'

It takes place after Arcturus' death, but before Helix is born.

This was not supposed to ever be published, but people on discord convinced me, so forgive me if it's a bit rough! Just a fun little scene with the kids.

***

“Father?” Orion comes barreling into the office, and the rest trail after him.

“Knock, first,” Sirius reminds him.

“Yes, Draco. Knock.” Lucius fixes Draco with a stern look.

“Alright,” both boys agree, but judging by their tone, they don’t take it seriously.

“I tried to stop them,” Harry offers, but his grin suggests otherwise.

“Father,” Orion goes on. “When you die, I’ll get all the gold and the houses, right?”

Lucius chokes on his firewhiskey.

Sirius blinks. “Where is this coming from?”

“Daddy!” Marvolo looks so upset. “Orion says I’ll be poor! That I won’t get anything, because I’m just the spare.”

Lucius is trying hard not to laugh beside Sirius.

“What is going on?”

“I’m picking a husband,” Elara explains. “And I want to marry the rich one.”

“That’s me, not Marvolo,” Orion shouts. “Tell her, Father!”

Sirius opens his mouth, closes it again, then glares at Lucius, who starts laughing. 

“That’s why Malfoys stop at one son,” he whispers.

“You didn’t even want to play with her,” Sirius reminds his sons. Just an hour earlier, they were all having tantrums that they don’t want to pay with the girls.

“Well, no, but if we are forced to play, then I’ll be the husband, obviously,” Orion says. “It’s the most important position in the game, so I’ll have it.”

“No, stupid, the bride is the most important,” Elara tells him, rolling her eyes. “It’s my big day, I’m the most important.”

"Why don’t you go ask Astrid, yeah? She’ll sort you out,” Sirius says, trying to shoo them away.

“She doesn't know about gold,” Orion dismisses the idea. “So, tell her I’m the richest one.”

“I’m the richest one,” Draco intervenes. “When Father dies, I’ll be richer than Orion.”

“That’s lovely, Draco,” Lucius says.

Draco shrugs. “And,” he adds, looking at Elara. “I’m also the oldest. And the tallest. You should marry me.”

“Just you wait, Draco! I’ll grow up taller!” Orion hisses, enraged. 

“I’m already rich,” Harry points out. “I don’t have to wait for anyone to die. I already own my vault, right, Sirius?”

“That’s right,” Sirius agrees. 

“Father, why does Harry already have a vault?” Draco whines. “That’s not fair!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Orion snaps. “I’ll be Head of house Black, that trumps everything.”

All the boys start fighting.

“I am the Head of House Black,” Sirius says, loudly. “I’m the tallest, the oldest, and the richest-”

“Actually,” Lucius says. “I’m the oldest and the richest.”

Elara glances between them. “Are you?”

“I am,” Lucius assures her, with a smile.

“Hmm.” She tilts her head, but then she shrugs. “You’re not a Black, though.”

Lucius rolls his eyes, mutters something about incest.

“So,” she adds, turning to Sirius. “You’re right, Uncle. You’re the best choice- I’ll marry you.”

“NO! ME!” Orion stomps his foot on the ground.

“I’m flattered,” Sirius says, “but I’m already married, sweetheart.”

Elara waves it away. “It’s only pretend wedding. For the day. I’m only doing it so my new husband can buy me a wedding gift. And I bet you can buy more stuff than Orion and the rest. It’s settled. I’ll marry you. Come, we’ll have the ceremony and then you can give me the gifts.”

“Wait, wait!” Lucius says. “You need to negotiate first. Make sure you get a good deal.”

“Oh,” Elara falls pensive. “But I don’t know how to do that- contracts. And Daddy is at work-”

“I’ll help you,” Lucius offers.

“Fine. Uncle Sirius, I want one Abraxan pony, three dresses, and a baby dragon. Oh and two dolls! One of those new ones we saw in Rome, that can talk!”

“How about ten dolls, and six dresses, but you drop the dragon and the pony?” Sirius suggests, lifting her into his arms.

“Alright,” she agrees.

“And that is why you should never get married without your father’s approval,” Lucius says. “Sirius is ripping you off.”

“Regina,” Orion yells, when they all reach the living room. “Regina, I’ll marry you. Father stole Elara.”

“I don’t want to get married,” Regina says. “It’s Elara’s wedding, not mine!”

“You’ll get dolls out of it,” Orion says, impatient. “Here.” He takes off his necklace and gives it to Regina. “I’m sure it’s expensive, at least it would buy you a doll.”

“Fine, then,” Regina agrees, tossing her red hair over her shoulder.

“Found a husband,” Elara announces from Sirius’ arms. “Don’t worry, Astrid, I’ll give him back after he gives me the gifts.”

“I thought the plan was to get one of the boys,” Evy says with a laugh.

“Someone,” Sirius glares at Narcissa, “taught her she has to pick the richest.”

“You picked badly, in that case,” Narcissa says, shamelessly. “Lucius is the richest, Elara.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Sirius, language!”

“Apparently, I am worth nothing because I’m not a Black,” Lucius says, sitting beside his wife.

“Then you should have picked Draco,” Narcissa admonishes, when Sirius hands Elara over, so she can have her dress charmed. “He’s part Black and he will be very rich, indeed.”

“I’ll marry Draco next year,” Elara decides, trying to twist her hair around her finger.

Orion makes an infuriating sound.

“What?” Elara glares at him. “You picked Regina!”

“Alright,” Sirius says, loudly, when another fight is about to start. “Who is going to be my best man? Harry?”

“Yes, please!”

“Marvolo, you are mine,” Orion orders.

“No way! You told me you’ll disown me and I’ll have to live under a bridge when you’ll be Head of House.”

“You told him that?” Sirius smacks Orion over the head. “You are going to get it, boy!”

“Not now, Sirius,” Regina begs. “I want to get my dolls, so after the wedding, please.”

Eventually, after Elara gets her play wedding and she makes Sirius dance with her, and then all the boys, too, everyone calms down, though Orion is still snappy with Marvolo for a while. Harry intervenes between them often, trying to placate them both.

“You best be nice and quiet,” he tells the baby, a hand over Astrid's stomach. The baby kicks. “Please, be good. I can’t take another crazy one.”

When Regulus finally returns from the Ministry, all the children have calmed down, and Evy already took her little demons back to their home.

“I got married,” Elara says, running to Regulus. “My gifts are coming tomorrow.”

“Who did you marry?” Regulus asks, letting her climb on his lap.

“Uncle Sirius. He could buy me more dolls than the others.”

Regulus snorts. “You should have consulted me first. I’d have gotten something better than dolls.”

Elara giggles. “It’s fine, next year I’ll marry Draco. You can do the contract thing and get me more stuff, then.”

Eventually, everyone but Regulus retires to bed, and Sirius enjoys the first minutes of silence in what had been a long day, even if he can hear the faint fight Orion is having with Marvolo upstairs.

“Your daughter is a menace,” he informs Regulus.“I pity the poor soul who’ll end up with her.”

Regulus frowns. “Orion can handle her.”

Sirius blinks at him. “What?”

“Well, they are getting married, aren’t they?" Regulus looks surprised that Sirius is surprised. “It’s what grandfather wanted. Everyone knows it. I thought it was settled.”

“Merlin’s cock!” Sirius stands. “You’re all fucking crazy. Stop it with the incest already! And grandfather changed his mind before he died!”

“You’re spending too much time with Lucius; you sound like him!”

“They’re not getting married, don’t be an idiot!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? For- Regulus, they’re kids!”

“Well, not now, obviously. Eventually. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere where I can find sane people!” Sirius snarls at him. “So, a muggle bar!”