#Inside Bar entry and exit

[signode-blog]

Mastering Inside Bar Trading Patterns: A Comprehensive Guide

Introduction to The Inside Bar Pattern Trading the financial markets requires a keen understanding of various patterns and signals. One such pattern that traders often leverage is the Inside Bar pattern. This pattern signifies a period of consolidation or indecision in the market, presenting traders with potential opportunities for profitable trades. In this guide, we will delve into the…

[tuiccim]

Wakin' Up the Devil

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Bi!Female!Reader

Warnings: Dark content! Sex pollen, Non/DubCon, smut. This fic contains dark themes and may include potentially triggering topics. You are solely responsible for your media consumption.

Summary: Bucky tries to save you from yourself but he doesn't realize he's wakin' up the devil.

A/N: Not beta read. Inspired by Wakin' Up the Devil by Hinder.

Bucky spots you across the bar sitting at a table. You have a cute woman on your lap and are engaged in flirting with her. Making his way to you, Bucky leans on an empty chair at the table and says, "You done yet?"

"Goddamnit, Bucky. Go away,” you grouse. This was the second time tonight he found you. Last night, you had given up after the third time he'd ferreted out your location and went back to the tower.

"Not without you." He counters.

"Look, I don't know what's going on with the two of you but I'm not into it," the woman on your lap says standing up. 

"Ignore him, gorgeous." You grab her arm. 

"No, thanks." The woman twists her arm out of your grasp and rejoins the friends you had coaxed her away from. 

"Fuck," you stand and down your whiskey. Walking to the exit, Bucky is right by your side. "Get the fuck away from me, Barnes."

"I'm just trying to help. I've been here, Doll. I've seen self-loathing like this." Bucky says.

"I don't want your help. I want you to leave me alone. Follow me to the next place I go and whatever happens is your fault." You get on your motorcycle and bring the engine to life. You give Bucky a final glare before taking off. He was already mounting his bike. 

The problem had started at the end of your last mission. Because of your miscalculations, innocent hostages had died and several of the team had been injured. It had sent you spiraling and you found yourself back in your past haunts practicing old habits. Bucky had decided it was his job to save you from yourself. He was in for a rude awakening. 

You park in the loading dock of a seemingly abandoned building, dismount, and make your way inside. You can hear Bucky's bike and smirk. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. The warehouse contains only one thing, a containment module. You enter it and wait like a spider for its prey. 

Bucky leans on the doorway of the module. "What the fuck is this?" He asks.

"Come in and see if you'd like, but if you do you're consenting to whatever happens." You smile at him smugly. 

"What's that supposed to mean, Doll?" Bucky takes a few steps towards you.

"Your entry means consent, as stated." You grin wickedly as you press a button on the panel beside you. The door to the module shuts and locks. 

Bucky twists around to see the door close and looks back to you, "You know I can break through that?"

"This module could contain Hulk. Go ahead and try." You say as you remove your boots. 

"What are we doing here?" Bucky asks.

"We're going to fuck each other's brains out. That's what we're doing here." You smile.

"I'm not going to fuck you,” he says firmly.

"You consented when you came in the module, remember?" Your smirk annoys and unsettles him.

"You can't make me have sex with you."

"Oh, no, I can't." You laugh as the hiss of gas being released fills the room. "But this will."

"What the fuck is this?" Bucky asks, voice rising in a bit of panic. 

"It's a gas. A derivative of the sex pollen Hydra discovered," you smile wickedly.

"No," Bucky says. 

"You might want to start removing your clothes. You’re going to be very hot, very soon." 

"I won't,” Bucky growls.

"You will. You won't let us die. Besides, you won't be able to help yourself," you wink, your smile unwavering.

“Why would you do this to us?” Bucky asks angrily as he throws off his jacket. 

You ignore his question and pull off your shirt with a triumphant smile. Bucky matches you item for item as you strip until he stands in only his underwear. As you pull your bra away, his eyes wander to your chest and this thumb curls around the band of his boxer briefs. You look at him expectantly, raising a brow. He pushes them down with a growl revealing his cock at attention. 

“Good boy. Mm, feeling the effects already or are you just that excited to fuck me?” You lick your lips and grin wickedly. 

“Shut up,” he pushes you onto the bed and rips the panties from your body. 

You hold in gleeful laughter at his anger. He wanted this, wanted you, but was mad it wasn’t on his terms. As he crawled over you, his face betrayed a moment of softness. A flash of awe and want. Wanting to keep him off-balance, you flip him onto his back. You laugh as you lower your face close to his, one of your hands wrapping around his jaw, “I-”

“I said shut up,” he grabs your head and pulls your lips to his. The kiss is intense and you revel in it, enjoying the connection. You reach between you and slide his cock along your slit until you can easily slide him in. You moan into the unbroken kiss as he stretches you. Bucky grabs your hips as he moves his own. When you are nearly breathless from the kiss, you break away and push yourself up to sit more fully on his cock. 

“Fuck,” you whine as you stare down at him, circling your hips to create more of the delicious friction your body craves. Bucky remains silent but his hands wander, caressing your hips, playing over your breasts, teasing your nipples, and finally finding your clit. You whimper as your orgasm pulls closer with his fingers circling just where you need them. 

“Oh, fuck,” you bite down to keep from crying out but he pulls your lip from your teeth. 

“I wanna hear you,” he groans as you clench around him. 

“Oh, God,”  you let out a high-pitched moan as you come. He pumps up into you through it and then suddenly flips you under him. As soon as you are on your back, he plunges into you with a sharp thrust making you cry out. 

“That’s what I want to hear,” he says as he repeats the action. He fucks you hard, slamming his hips into you and watching your face contort in pleasure as moans spill past your lips. You put your arms around his neck as he kisses you again. You want to wrap around him completely. You bring your knees up higher to allow your legs to open wider. Fuck, he knew what he was doing and every motion he made had you drawing closer to the edge. Breaking the kiss, he puts his forehead to yours and stares in your eyes as you fall again. You can’t take the intensity and close your eyes as the waves of pleasure wash over you. You were so lost in the feeling it barely registered when he growled as he came.

“Fuck,” he groans as his hips stutter, wringing every bit of pleasure from the connection. He rolls you both to your side as you catch your breath. You glance at him to find his eyes shut, thick lashes sitting on his cheeks but as your eyes wander down his body you can’t help noticing the scars around his left shoulder. It tugged at your heart but you shook it away and allowed your eyes to take in his thick cock instead. The monster was already getting hard again and you couldn’t contain your smirk. Just as you were forming a smartass remark to goad the supersoldier, his eyes flew open and he grabbed you. You found yourself on all fours as he slid into you from behind without a word. Not that you needed talk, his cock splitting you open was plenty for you. He was slow at first, almost teasing as he worked himself in and out. When you pushed back to encourage him, a slap landed on your ass that caused you to moan loudly. 

“I should’ve known,” Bucky chuckles as he lands another slap that makes your toes curl. He lands a few more, heating your ass with each one before running a cool metal hand over it. Then he grabs you and pulls you back onto his cock hard. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix making you whimper, he repeats the action until whimpers become moans, moans become cries, and finally a scream rends from your throat as you come again. 

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper as you come down from your high. Your body is singing from the thorough fucking. 

“Nope, just Bucky,” he laughs as he lays you out under him and continues slowly thrusting into you. You tighten your body, squeezing his cock as he moves and hear his whispered epitaph. He falls silent as he slowly moves above you, concentrating on the pleasure of your pussy pulling him in.

“Like this tight cunt, don’t you?” You tease as you reach back to pull his face to your neck.

Bucky’s teeth grazing your neck is the only answer you need. He keeps a steady, slow pace as he fucks you. You keep your body clenched around him, occasionally fluttering your walls, allowing him to wring out every moment of pleasure from your body. He wedges his hand under your body and finds your clit. His fingers worked magic and you were shocked how quickly you built another orgasm. It hit you like a ton of bricks and your whole body trembled with it. Bucky releases a long moan as he comes again. He thrusts sloppily as he empties himself into you. 

When you have come back to yourselves, he repositions both of you to face each other. He kisses you softly, lingering for a moment before pulling back. You’re deliciously tired and give a soft smile but it fades as you watch confusion mar his expression. 

“Wait… why-” he looks down at himself as if confused and around at the module. “Why aren’t we burning up? How long does this drug last?”

All the peace that had coddled you for the last few minutes disappeared. Everything flows back in and you roll your eyes as you sit up. “What drug?” You say casually as you reach for your clothes. 

“The gas? The gas you released!” Bucky says, bewildered. 

You scoff as you shimmy into your panties, “It was just oxygen being released.”

“You said-”

“I know. I can’t believe you fell for that,” you laugh as you continue to dress.

Bucky grabs your arm and swings you around to face him, “Why? Why would you do that?”

You wrench your arm from his grasp, fully aware that it was only that he allowed you that made it possible. “You wanted to fuck me so bad you looked stupid, so I gave you the means, the motive, and the opportunity. Now you can get over it and stop following me around,” you say scathingly.

Bucky stares at you, anger and hurt evident on his face. You can’t take it and turn away to finish dressing. When you were done, you entered the code for the module door. 

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself,” he says quietly. 

You whirl around, “You wanted to fix me so you could fuck me. Well. now, you’ve fucked me, and you don’t have to fix me. Win-win.” When he starts to open his mouth, you snap, “Give it up, Barnes. I’m a lost cause. No point in wakin’ up the devil when she’s already here.” With that, you jog to your motorcycle and rev the engine. As you speed away, you tell yourself the tears in your eyes are from the road dust. After all, the devil doesn’t cry.

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction  and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[zablife]

Imagine Johnny Defending You

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Warnings: language, injury, mention of blood, domestic violence (not with Johnny), fighting

Read the prequel

It was past midnight when you limped into an unfamiliar bar, torn jacket, split lip and blood dripping from your hairline. The whole room seemed to come to a stand still as bikers and their ladies stopped to stare.

Kathy was the first to approach you, a warm smile radiating toward you as she gently asked, "Did ya take a spill, sweetheart?" She could tell from your trembling body and the sharp look of fear in your eye it was something more than that, but didn't want you to have to say it out loud.

You nodded numbly, wrapping your arms around your body to conceal the Renegades patch that now hung somewhere near your elbow. Brucie's keen eye had already spotted it though and he leaned in to advise Johnny. You were the girl who'd been here six months earlier on the arm of that rebellious kid wanting to join up, he was certain of it.

Dropping his cigarette into an empty beer bottle, Johnny narrowed his eyes at you, scanning your features carefully.

For a moment you worried he was considering throwing you out. However, before he could pass his judgement, Kathy extended a hand to you proclaiming, "We gotta get her cleaned up."

The words still lingered in the air as the roar of several bike engines rattled the windows by the pool table, your body jolting at the sight and sound of your ex boyfriend and half a dozen Renegades approaching like hungry lions.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Johnny who turned to ask, "Friends of yours, darlin'?"

Fingertips tracing your throbbing, bloodied temple, you gritted your teeth as you spat, "Fuck, no."

As Kathy supported your elbow she whispered hoarsely, "That the guy who did it?" and you only nodded as your eyes fell to the floor.

Johnny pursed his lips as he nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, that's all I need to know." He motioned for Corky and Wahoo to follow as his boots thudded toward the exit, readying for a confrontation.

As expected, the kid was the first to meet him by the front door, an incredulous look on his face when he realized he was being denied entry.

"Take one more step toward that door and I'll knock your teeth out," Johnny informed him, Vandals forming a barrier behind him.

"M not here for a social visit, old man. Just here to get my girl," he persisted.

"Your girl?" Johnny asked, eyebrow cocked in challenge.

"You didn't notice the jacket?" the kid scoffed, turning to his friends with a laugh. "Dunno why the dumb bitch would run into a rival's bar," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Spose that's another lesson she's gotta learn the hard way," he said with a shake of his head, striding forward defiantly.

Johnny sprang forward to attack before the Renegades could react, fist connecting with the kid's jaw in quick succession until he heard a sickening crack. The boys behind him scattered in fear as the kid fell onto the pavement with a low groan.

Johnny circled him, rubbing his fist as he loomed overhead. "You know, I think you're the slow learner cause I made myself clear the first time you came around you ain't welcome here," he gritted out. Chest heaving in anger, he looked down at the boy writhing in agony, imagining what it must have been like for the girl inside. Leaning down to grasp at the collar of the denim Renegade's jacket, he hauled him to his feet, gaze scouring the fabric in disgust.

Shoving the kid into the side of the building hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, Johnny's voice hovered at a threatening growl as he added, "And just so you know, these jackets don't make you my rival, cause you're just a fucking kid. But beatin' the shit out of a woman does." He tightened his hold until he could feel the kid's limbs twitching, mouth spluttering a bloody trail of saliva down his arm before he shoved him aside.

“Get the fuck outta here. What kind of piece of shit are you?,” he spat, wiping his arm on his shirt. He turned to Zipco and Corky instructing, “Clean him up and get him outta here."

When Johnny walked back inside, he found you pacing the floor nervously.

"He ain't gonna bother you no more," he declared resolutely. "We had a little chat and I uh...explained that to him."

You paused all movement and Johnny squinted at you in uncertainty until you threw your arms around his neck in gratitude. Raising his large hand to your back slowly, he patted between your shoulder blades cautiously until he spied Kathy giving him an encouraging nod.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before," you cried into his shoulder.

"Well, then you deserve a helluva lot more," he assured you softly, pulling you in close to absorb the little sobs shaking your body. He wrapped you in his arms, placing one hand around your waist and lacing the other in your hair.

Comforted by his steady breathing, you inhaled a few deep breaths as well, observing his unique scent of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of motor oil.

As the juke box began to play a slow song, he swayed you gently to the music and you nearly fell asleep on your feet. It was a soothing moment of safety you never wanted to end. Luckily you didn't have to because you went home with Johnny that night and never left.

[nyoomerr]

I hope you have a nice week of vacation!!!

For a prompt request perhaps something with a more monstrous or demonic Binghe? Potentially dealing with self hatred/insecurity or dysphoria because of this but with a shen Yuan being VERY into monstrous features actually.

(only if that strikes your fancy though. Have a good one either way!)

combining these two prompts together to present you both with some cursed dragon!binghe and a sqq that has very little issues with what that means for him, lmao.

---

Admittedly, when a disciple had burst into the lecture hall to very frantically inform Shen Qingqiu that something was wrong with Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t thought much of it.

On Cang Qiong, ‘something wrong with Luo Binghe’ could be anything from Luo Binghe outright attacking Liu Qingge to something as small as Luo Binghe having disturbed the dirt beneath his feet as he walked. Luo Binghe’s very presence here was something that even occasionally was reported to Shen Qingqiu as ‘something wrong,’ because Shen Qingqiu still hadn’t quite managed to strike down the rule barring Luo Binghe from entry to the sect.

So Shen Qingqiu had sighed, given the interrupting disciple his most withering ‘don’t you know better than to barge in like that!’ glare, and exited the classroom with very little urgency. 

It was only on the walk back to the bamboo house that some of Shen Qingqiu’s irritation began to be replaced with concern. 

Disciples and hall masters from Qing Jing and Qian Cao alike were running about like chickens that had lost their heads - most of them looking as if they’re just running around to be a part of the action and gossip rather than to actually be useful, but running around nonetheless. The Qian Cao disciples in particular seem to be very dedicated to scouring the ground for what appear to be crystalized… feathers? Scales? Whatever they are, they glint a deep red in the sun despite looking near black in the shade.

Alarmingly, many of them seem to be quite bloody.

Shen Qingqiu picks up the pace a bit. Then, when he gets near enough the bamboo house that he can hear the commotion of fighting and the wretched sound of a beast in pain, he abandons his pride and starts running.

“Liu-Shidi!” Shen Qingqiu calls as he approaches, watching with horror as Liu Qingge stabs Cheng Luan through a window to poke at something in the bamboo house. “What on earth is going on?!”

Liu Qingge looks up at the sound of his name, and then promptly gets thrown across the clearing that the bamboo house sits in when a thick tail whips out of the window to knock into him.

Shen Qingqiu looks at Liu Qingge - already standing back up, although looking significantly more irritated - and then back at the bamboo house. He does some quick mental math. 

“...Binghe?” He calls tentatively. 

The awful noises from inside the bamboo house stop. The creature’s tail freezes where it had been slowly slithering back in through the window that it had whacked Liu Qingge through. 

“Oh, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu sighs, taking that as all the confirmation he needs. “What did you get yourself into this time?”

“Back off,” Liu Qingge grunts, sliding between Shen Qingqiu and the house. “If that’s really your disciple in there, he has even less sense than usual.”

“Nonsense,” Shen Qingqiu says. Hadn’t he clearly displayed a sense of shame just now, when Shen Qingqiu had caught him throwing Liu Qingge about? Actually, isn’t the fact that he attacked Liu Qingge in such a way proof in itself that it’s still his troublesome disciple in there?

“He sent three of your disciples to Qian Cao before I got here,” Liu Qingge says, and Shen Qingqiu winces.

Luo Binghe may not try very hard to maintain good relations with Shen Qingqiu’s fellow peak lords, but he does try to be civil with everyone on Qing Jing. 

Well. Everyone except Ming Fan, usually. Poor Ming Fan.

Still, Shen Qingqiu is quite convinced that the beast inside his house is Luo Binghe. He’d been away for the last week quelling a rebellion in the southern demon lands, fighting against a race of demons known for their particularly potent curses.

The mental math Shen Qingqiu had done adds up: it’s been nearly a full month since the last wife plot he’d had to fend off with his husband. Naturally, the beast inside his home must be a Luo Binghe that’s been cursed in some awful way that will require a truly heinous amount of freaky papapa!

Shen Qingqiu takes a determined step towards the bamboo house. 

Liu Qingge mirrors the step, remaining firmly in the away. 

“...Liu-Shidi, if you don’t mind,” Shen Qingqiu says, pointedly taking another step to try and get around him.

Liu Qingge mirrors the step once more. “He’s attacking indiscriminately,” he says, scowling. “That beast has hurt you enough as it is, no need to -”

Whatever Liu Qingge had been about to say, it’s cut off by the sound of Luo Binghe making another wretched noise, followed by something shattering inside the bamboo house, and then complete silence once more.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. Of all the casualties of this world’s nonsense, the sheer number of fine tea sets that he’s lost to plotlines deciding that something shattering would add some good drama is truly the worst!!

“Try to stay still for now, Binghe,” he calls over Liu Qingge’s shoulder. “This master will help you get untangled once I get in there.”

“Don’t let him out,” Liu Qingge says, blocking Shen Qingqiu’s way with Cheng Luan. 

Shen Qingqiu eyes him distrustfully. “Shidi was the one who locked him in my house?”

Liu Qingge sends a pointed glare around the clearing. The clearing which, in all fairness, is quite a bit messier than it usually is: whole swaths of bamboo have been trampled, and deep claw marks dig ugly rows in the ground everywhere Shen Qingqiu looks. The little garden that Luo Binghe has been tending recently is completely lost; Shen Qingqiu tuts as he thinks about how irritated Luo Binghe will be to have lost his favorite source of fresh vegetables. 

“He’s out of control,” Liu Qingge says. “Containing him in a small space was the most immediate method of getting your disciples out of danger.”

Shen Qingqiu sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his temples.

“Just to be clear,” he says, “Liu -Shidi heard reports of a beast on a violent rampage on Qing Jing, showed up and saw a creature wreaking havoc, and decided that the best course of action was to corral the beast into my house?”

“...” Liu Qingge says.

“Thanking Liu-Shidi for his assistance,” Shen Qingqiu says with very little real gratitude. “Now shoo; go scare the Qian Cao disciples off my peak if you’re not done playing guard dog. They’re trying to collect Binghe’s blood again, I think.”

Liu Qingge’s expression twists. If Shen Qingqiu feels disturbed watching little baby medics trying to scrape Luo Binghe’s blood up off the ground to research, Liu Qingge undoubtedly detests the idea of their righteous sect collecting that “dirty” blood even more.

Eventually, Liu Qingge huffs, sheathing Cheng Luan and turning away from Shen Qingqiu in one movement.

“Fine,” he grunts. “But when he lashes out at you, too -”

“He won’t,” Shen Qingqiu interrupts, and finally manages to push past Liu Qingge and into the bamboo house.

Although, once he’s inside, he realizes very quickly that there’s very little room for him to go from there. 

Luo Binghe’s current form takes up most of the entire main room of the bamboo house, even with his body curled up tight in one spot to try and avoid knocking into the walls. Every breath Luo Binghe takes seems to move the whole space for how powerful it feels, and Shen Qingqiu can barely make out the crushed remains of the table beneath one massive paw.

A western dragon, Shen Qingqiu thinks, taking in the sight with no small amount of awe. 

Of course, he makes sure to feel an appropriate amount of irritation towards Shang Qinghua about it too.

Still though, Luo Binghe as he is now is truly a sight to behold. A handsome and proud snout with giant curving fangs peeking out from his mouth sits below a pair of reptilian eyes that shine with the same pretty shade of red that Luo Binghe’s eyes normally do when he gets irritated. Large red horns sprout from the sides of his head and curve and twist in front of his forehead in an approximation of his demonic huadian. His whole body ripples in the light, covered in those beautiful crystalline scales - though Shen Qingqiu notes with some regret that he can quite clearly see the bloodied patches where some of those scales have been ripped out. 

He doesn’t seem to have wings, but Shen Qingqiu easily spots the long tail that had knocked into Liu Qingge - as Shen Qingqiu examines Luo Binghe, the tail starts to thump rhythmically against the ground, like a dog sheepishly wagging its tail. Ah, that’s really… really too cute!!

“Welcome back, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu greets. The rhythmic thumping of Luo Binghe’s tail gets a bit quicker. “Can you speak like this?”

Luo Binghe’s tail stills, and Shen Qingqiu instantly feels some regret at the loss. Still, he supposes that answers that, then.

“That’s fine,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Just - ah, make some sort of noise if I do anything that hurts. I’m just going to examine you real quick, alright?”

Slowly, Shen Qingqiu approaches, ducking under Luo Binghe’s massive head to reach his flank. This close, he can get a better idea of what hurt Luo Binghe.

…He almost wishes he hadn’t looked. The bloodied areas missing scales look very much like they’d been inflicted with a giant mouth rather than a sword glare.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu sighs. “One tail wag for ‘yes,’ two for ‘no’: did you rip some of these scales out yourself?”

Luo Binghe stubbornly keeps his tail perfectly still. Frustrated, Shen Qingqiu reaches out to rap his knuckles across an undamaged part of Luo Binghe’s flank in scolding. 

“Your healing abilities may be beyond anything a cultivator could imagine, but you can not heal a curse by trying to rip apart the cursed bits and hope they heal properly, you foolish disciple!”

Luo Binghe’s tail thumps twice against the ground defiantly. Shen Qingqiu can practically hear the retort: It worked the time with the Frost Bees, Shizun!

“The Frost Bees do not count,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs. “Nor does the time with the Crowned Pit Viper Clan: they used cursed objects, which spread the curse from the object to the wearer. Lopping off your arm worked because it stopped the spread from the bracelets, not because you were tearing off an affected piece and letting it heal back to an uncursed state.”

Luo Binghe already knows this, of course. Shen Qingqiu had scolded him quite enough at the times it had happened. Regardless of the fact that it worked, there are better ways to do these things!!

Shen Qingqiu sighs again, suddenly feeling very exhausted, and leans his weight on Luo Binghe’s flank. It’s very warm. Luo Binghe bends the long length of his neck to snuffle worriedly at Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu pets at his giant snout reassuringly. 

Slowly, he starts to feed Luo Binghe some of his qi, directing it to the spots that were damaged. They’ve already healed, of course - despite Luo Binghe’s continued reckless abandon for his own wellbeing, he has stopped trying to keep his injuries around for Shen Qingqiu to dote on after realizing just how much it distressed Shen Qingqiu - but Shen Qingqiu offers his healing qi all the same.

It gives him something to focus on, to distract him from just how much he does not want to have this conversation.

“This master… it isn’t a bother to help resolve any curses that may be inflicted upon you.”

That is - if it’s to help out Luo Binghe, it isn’t a bother to cure things in the way traditional to Proud Immortal Demon Way. Er, that is - 

Well, of course Shen Qingqiu is referring to papapa!

Luo Binghe is still for a moment, and then noses at Shen Qingqiu insistently. Shen Qingqiu huffs.

“Well, if you don’t like not being able to be a part of this conversation, maybe you shouldn’t have done anything foolish to prompt it!” He scolds. “If you’d just come to get me normally, instead of tearing at your scales and scaring the disciples and somehow getting Liu-Shidi involved -!”

Luo Binghe noses at him some more. 

“Yes, yes, it’s fine, I sent him away. Honestly, though, I don’t know why you didn’t just come get me! We could have had this all sorted by now, no Liu-Shidi needed to begin with!”

Luo Binghe makes a pathetic noise, shoving his snout into Shen Qingqiu hard enough it knocks the breath out of him.

“Aiya, I get it, I get it, no mentioning other people when we’re about to -” Shen Qingqiu breaks off, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

Luo Binghe does not stop his ugly sounding whines. Finally, Shen Qingqiu is forced to realize that Luo Binghe’s concerns may be different than he’d been assuming.

“...Is there a reason you didn’t come get me, then? Outside of your pride?” 

Luo Binghe only stares at Shen Qingqiu unblinkingly. If Shen Qingqiu were to assign a human emotion to the reptilian face, he’d say it was one of disbelief. 

Slowly, Luo Binghe looks down at his massive paws, and the deadly claws on the ends of them. Shen Qingqiu notes with interest that the shape of them is more like a cat’s than a lizard’s, and he wonders idly if the claws extend and retract in the same way that a cat’s does. How much force would he have to use to push Luo Binghe’s claws into their extended state? Are his toes webbed like a cat’s, as well?

Then Shen Qingqiu blinks, remembering that he was trying to have a cross-species conversation here, not that this input from Luo Binghe makes any sense in the current conversation.

“The house is already a mess,” Shen Qingqiu dismisses. “The bed will surely not be any more damaged by your claws now than it already has been.”

Luo Binghe blinks slowly at Shen Qingqiu; one - two pairs of eyelids! Fascinating! Then he turns once more, this dipping his head to look down and back at -

Ah. Belatedly, Shen Qingqiu understands, and then feels a rush of embarrassment at the fact that he had to be directed to look at Luo Binghe’s transformed heavenly pillar - pillars? There’s two of them down there?!! - to get it at all. Right. Of course Luo Binghe would assume that dual cultivation may not be an option in this form. 

…For being the former protagonist of a stallion novel, Luo Binghe is really, painfully vanilla at times! 

Shen Qingqiu coughs, his face warming.

“That - that’s also not an issue. For me.”

There’s a twitch at the bottom half of Luo Binghe’s body. 

…There really are two of them down there, ah!!

Shen Qingqiu flushes darker.

“It’s really no problem,” he says again. “It’s this master’s job to help when you need it. And -”

Shen Qingqiu cuts off, clears his throat, then clears it again.

“Well,” he eventually says. “Binghe was gone a long time.”

Slowly, Luo Binghe’s tail starts to wag again. 

“...It was far longer than three days,” Shen Qingqiu says, speaking mostly to the ground. “So, mathematically, it makes sense if perhaps what is done tonight is done in ‘double’ than usual, to make up for double the time -”

Gingerly, Luo Binghe catches the back of Shen Qingqiu’s robes between his teeth, picks up up, and carries him back to the bedroom.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 120 (Searching For Answers in Sulani)

cw: blood, death, violence (sounds terrible, I know...this tropical world is beautiful but this is not a cozy one, it's a detective one!)

The Sulani sun was warm, even for an overcast day in late winter. As Conrad approached George Brindleton's villa, a chill ran down his spine. George liked to dictate the terms of his communication with Brindleton PD, but he'd been far too quiet. The stunning modular villa overlooking the water seemed too quiet, too.

He approached the front door and knocked. The entire front room was open toward the endless sea, but Conrad couldn't see, or hear, any signs of life from inside.

"Yoo hoo! Hello, stranger. Are you a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Brindleton?"

Conrad turned back down the steps to greet two women who approached with friendly smiles. "Not exactly. Do you know where I could find the owner of this villa?"

"That'd be me," said the brunette. "Oliana Ngata. I rent it to George every winter, but my wife, Leila, and me, we were supposed to talk about him extending into spring and he never showed up at the tiki bar."

"Have you gone inside?"

"George tells us not to, and he pays us enough that we do what he says. But my son said there was a weird smell coming from the place when he walked home from school yesterday, and we're starting to get concerned. June usually comes around to talk to us every few days, but we haven't seen her either."

The blonde woman at her side rolled her eyes. "I don't know what she sees in that old man. He's always walking around barking orders. I can't stand the guy."

"Shhh," said the brunette. "He pays us well enough not to talk crap about him, Leila."

"My name's Conrad Gordon." He flashed his badge. "I'm a lieutenant at Brindleton PD back on the mainland. We've been trying to get George's cooperation about a body that turned up back home. But he went radio silent a few days ago, so we're risking him trying to sue the department to check up on him."

Leila laughed. "He makes friends everywhere, does he?"

"Could you let me inside?"

Oliana nodded, tailing him through the front door once she'd unlocked the airy vacation home. "Do you think something could have happened to them? - Oh my Watcher!"

She peeled back in fear and surprise at the sight of George Brindleton face down in a pool of his own blood. By the looks of the blood stains, he'd been dead a few days already. Looking around, Conrad saw no sign of June, but the staircase to the upstairs bedroom beckoned.

"Lieutenant Gordon, be careful," called Oliana with an anxious lilt. As Conrad stepped into the master suite, his face fell. June laid on her back on the bed, with a pool of blood forming on the hardwood floors beneath her.

Both George and his wife had been brutally murdered, and Conrad's heart sank. He really didn't need another murder case on his plate - least of all the murder of the most powerful man in town thousands of miles away from the place that bore his name.

Bloody footprints, large enough to be a man, headed toward the bathroom before disappearing, with no sign of forced entry or exit through the immaculate floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

He pulled out his phone to call it in, waiting for the arrival of local law enforcement. But they didn't take kindly to Conrad's chief pulling rank, demanding they let Brindleton PD handle the murder investigation.

"You think you mainland cops can come out here and tell us how to run the show on our own islands, and we're just supposed to stand back and let you?"

"It's not about the work," Conrad assured him. "It's the victim. He's been a person of interest to Brindleton PD for a long time - a lot longer than even I've been on the force."

The officer scowled but let Conrad do his job. He looked for evidence, but relied on landlords Oliana and her wife, Leila, for descriptions of the young waiter they knew as Javier Vargas. "He's a good kid, but we haven't seen him in as many days as the Brindletons. If he's not dead in there with them somewhere, I don't know what to think," mused Oliana.

"Why would George Brindleton call him Rafael? Does the name Rafael Bonilla mean anything to either of you?"

The women shrugged. "He wouldn't be the first person who's come to the islands to start a new life," said Oliana. "We're far enough away from everything, plenty of people find that appealing. We pay everyone in cash who works at our villas. They like it that way, and they like that we don't ask a lot of questions. But he's a good employee and we'd given him a key to the place since George liked to start drinking with the sunrise. He was a piece of work, but Javier always did his job without complaining."

"Do you know where I could find 'Javier'?"

The women shrugged again, but their son approached toward the end of the school day. "I think he's hiding in Princess Cordelia's ancient shipwreck near the volcano caves."

Oliana gasped. "Tane, where did you hear such a thing?"

"I didn't hear it. I saw him! Why do you want to find him?"

"I just want to ask him some questions."

"About what?"

"About being a waiter," Oliana cut in quickly, and Conrad didn't bother to correct her.

He turned to the young boy. "Do you know where I could find this abandoned shipwreck?"

He nodded. "Walk on the sandbar to the volcano. You'll see it near the beach. It's so far from the water because a storm blew it all the way inland when it crashed hundreds of years ago!"

Conrad left his number and promised to be in touch while the bodies were shipped to the morgue. He'd have to worry about the paperwork to get the Brindletons back to the Bay, but foremost in his mind was finding Rafa, once and for all.

He followed young Tane's directions and made it to the volcano caves after sunset. The dense jungle was dotted with worn dirt paths, but painted wooden signs led the way through the canopy. He found the caves and spotted the crooked mast of an old ship, half buried under the sand.

He spotted what looked like a front door on the part of the hull that stuck out of the sand and knocked.

"What the hell do you want?"

A gruff voice cut through the chirp of crickets in the nearby jungle, and Conrad turned. He hadn't seen Rafa Bonilla since he was a kid. Now this young man towered over him in height, deep-voiced with strong muscles, but Conrad knew it was the same boy. He had the same eyes.

"Rafa, it's me. Conrad Gordon."

"Yeah, I'll bet." The man sneered. "I saw you with a badge at the villa."

The young man threw a heavy punch before lunging at him, knocking him to the ground with brute force. "Rafa, it's really me," he choked out, as the man straddled his shoulders and blocked his airway. He struggled to breathe, but Rafa wouldn't let up no matter how hard he fought him.

Conrad's face grew hot as his throat closed, and the world around him faded to black. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF? George and June are posed with Akiyumi's Too Much and SamsSims' Sleep posepacks respectively. Conrad and Rafa's scuffle is from @rebouks Fite Me posepack, and the last shot of Conrad, unconscious, is from @yibsimchronicles' Fainted posepack. I love them all, and they really helped me get different shots I had in my head into the pixels, so thank you to all for sharing!

And I need to thank Cepzid for their police station uniform pack cc so I could stage the shots with Ximena in the last episode, and the shot with the officer here, since none of those scenes were triggered by actual gameplay. The clothes look great in game!

[issacballsac]

Tangent Line

Julian (Smith)

Gender Neutral Reader

-

Another average day of work finished its gruel passing on your day. As you began to close up the bar; wiping the spilled drinks from before and collecting any leftover trash. One person remained at the end of the bar. God, why couldn’t they just leave like everyone else.

“Hey we’re closing up soon.”

An audible choke erupted from them as they sheepishly apologised before going to gather their belongings, the already rusty door burst open.

Dropping everything they were previously picking up, the straggling customer made a run for it.

Noise akin to a metal chain gravely disturbed your ears while the blue—weapon? Fell to the floor.

“Don’t. Run.”

A figure shrouded in shadows stepped forward into the bar.

At least the day would get more entertaining.

“Where? Exit?”

His newly seen scarlet hair came into view as he hastily questioned you.

“If you go out the employee entrance over there you could probably catch ‘em”

Motioning behind yourself, you took no time in ratting out your paying customer. Perhaps you should add no wanted felons on the entry requirements.

Immediately taking off without giving the chance to take a second look. Or you didn’t get a second look at least, as a cry rang out from outside of the bar. Someone else surely did.

“Man, definitely got him.”

You sighed, continuing your work to close the bar for the day. Cleaning up the glasses and flipping the sign over. It wasn’t unusual to spot purifications taking place across the Moniyan Empire.

Until tomorrow. And there tomorrow came.

With a melodramatic routine of opening the bar once more, the afternoon air flooded in. Setting out chairs and stools, the right ding emitted from the doorbell.

“Already? Well that’s fine what can I get for...you.”

The man—the assassin—the purifier stood in the door frame before all else. With a certain cold gaze that would make the devil shiver. The heels of his boots clinked against the wooden floors with each and every step closer to you.

“Thanks.”

Is all he managed to mutter out. Words don’t seem to be his strong suit, but, he pulled out a chair and sat down with the unease of a child whom had been scolded.

Rummaging through his slim pockets he tossed a few coins over the bar counter whilst shifting into a more comfortable position.

“Oh! You want a drink? What kind?”

Planting his hand firmly underneath his chin he began to lose himself in thought for at least a minute before pointing to a clear—granted almost empty bottle.

“Just the liquor straight?”

“Fruit taste? Please.”

Doubting you’d get anything else from him, you began doing what you did best. Making drinks.

With no time at all the fruit like concoction had been crafted and served to you only customer for the hour it seemed, strange.

Downing the well scented beverage in one swing he slid the glass back to you.

“Name is Julian.”

Finally a semi-coherent sentence.

“Nice to meet you.”

You reluctantly hid your own name as you went to clean the used glass.

“You, what is yours?”

“Oh I’m not from the Moniyan Empire.”

“Name?”

Man was he determined to get your name. The bright red light corresponding to his eyes beamed at you in wait.

Finally giving in after two minutes of intense staring you told him your name.

With only a soft hum the man departed.

“What the actual fuck was that.”

His strange pop up visits began to cease over time but the feeling of his gaze never fell from you.

It had to been—what? Months? Before that familiar desertion of the bar was restored.

“Slow day.”

Was the cursed words that triggered the door bell once more.

“Welcome!”

Beginning your daily customer service, as a group of three strutted inside. Three importantly dressed individuals. With a fourth shyly tagging along that you knew all too well.

“Hey it’s you again! Julian right?”

His piercing stare loosened, properly taking you into his sight. In contrast to all three sets of eyes now straying to him.

“You know this guy? No way, you do have friends!”

"Don't tease him Melissa. We are just here for a break."

A seemingly older member of their group chimed in. With two out of the four's names being disclosed. "I don't like alcohol, do you guys have anything else?" A boy-teen-person? With long tamed hair leaned over the counter scouting out the drinks. The rest of the group scoffed in unison. "Don't huff at me you guys aren't even allowed to drink!" Pony-tail wasted no time ratting out his fellow travel mates.

"Damnit Yin, now I'll never get to try some."

"How about you just wait like normal people!"

Awkwardly third--fifth wheeling the conversation you rested the glasses back into their caddy.

"So cola for everyone?"

"From before, the drink. Thank you."

Deviating your eyebrows from resting position your stare intensified. "I thought you were not allowed to drink? Oh man-I already served you before."

"I can. Thank...you." The coins flew across the counter once more. He did not seem interested in arguing the matter. And neither were you, prepping the fruitful concoction once more.

"WHAT? I want one too!" The girl, Melissa? Had taken coins from the elder's pockets and dished them forward. "Would you mind me asking, just how old you guys are? Just for my sanity."

"Not old enough. I will take a Gimlet. Mocktails if you can for the rest." He whispered the last bit , concealing the truth from the party.

"That makes two of us--four of us?"

"What." The man of blaring blue hair had dilated his eyes in a concerned manner. "Oh yeah I can't drink either, I just work here."

A sly series of stares burned holes through your soul as you stood awkwardly. “So, I’ll get those drinks for you.”

Glass clinking across the island perked the eldest’s attention to retrieve the beverages. “Hey we should probably get goin’ soon so we get there in time.” Yin dutifully commented downing his faux liquor.

Viciously digging through his pockets, the blonde boy wearily peered over at Xavier. And with his reluctant sigh, the bill was paid. “Thank you for your service. Let’s go.” The group exchanged bids of farewells, while exiting the doors.

With a boiling confliction within himself, your new regular slid a note on the counter. “I will return. Maybe, you—us can go.” Evidently struggling with his words, you briefly cut him off.

“Of course, if I’m not working that day, then of course.”

An acute smile disguised as a smirk fought its way onto his face as he regrouped with his friends outside. Eagerly awaiting to see you again.

I love Julian sm I’m kicking my feet in the air

Totally not proof read either I made this on my phone 😨

[pascalispretty]

All Wound Up

Nick Amaro x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2063

Warnings: Friends with benefits, drunk sex, whiskey dick, spanking, rimming, Nick being a tease

Summary: When his body won't cooperate with what he wants to do, Nick finds a new way to tease you. Can be read as part of the Mutually Beneficial universe.

A/N: Happy Kinktober everybody! This is my entry for Day Three: Rimming. Prompts from @absurdthirst's list, and my thanks as always to @misscharlielulu. (ao3).

You and Nick return to your apartment much earlier than you had expected. The two of you had met in a bar not far from your place and would have been content to stay for longer had some idiot not spilled a pint of beer all down your back. Your dress clung wetly to you, and beer dripped from your hair as the two of you walked home.

“I need to shower,” you say, wrinkling your nose in disgust as you catch a whiff of your hair. It takes you a minute to locate your keys, your fingers rendered clumsy with tipsiness as you rifle through your bag.

“You want company in there?” Nick asks, raising his eyebrow suggestively at you. Giggling, you catch his hand as you make your way into the elevator and hit the button for your floor.

“Nice try. I need to actually try and get clean.”

“What’s the point? You’ll just get dirty again after.” Nick teases as you both exit the elevator and open the door of your apartment. He wastes no time in pulling you towards him once you’re inside.

“The point is that I don’t want my sheets reeking of beer,” you tell him, kissing him quickly. “Go get comfy, I’ll be right back.” With a deep sigh, Nick begrudgingly lets you go. You can’t help but smile at his back as he heads towards your bedroom, a familiarity with your apartment that belies his supposed status as your friend-with-benefits of only a few months.

You shower as quickly as you can, washing your hair twice to make sure the smell is well and truly gone. Your dress, you wring out as best as you can before throwing it in the laundry basket, along with the rest of your clothes.

Clad in just a towel, you make your way back to your bedroom. You’re pleased to see that Nick has indeed made himself comfortable; he’s reclining back on your bed, wearing only his black boxer-briefs. You can’t help taking a moment simply to admire him; he’s only lying on your bed, but he looks like he’s a model advertising the Hugo Boss underwear he has on.

“God, you’re just…ridiculously hot,” you tell him, letting the towel fall to the floor as you clamber onto his lap. Nick smirks at you, his hands sliding from your thighs round to your ass and palming at the curve of your backside.

“You’re one to talk, Kid. You know how I feel about you wearing those tight skirts and dresses around the courthouse.” You gasp as his fingertips dig into your flesh, a smile playing on your lips. You’ll never admit you’ve started wearing those pencil skirts and dresses more ever since he mentioned it to you.

“I know how much you like them,” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly over his abs. “You’ve told me enough times how much you like staring at my ass in them.” He chuckles, a low laugh that has no right to be quite so sexy, before flipping the two of you in one smooth motion.

Pinned underneath him, you switch your attentions to his back, making him shiver when you scratch in just the right place. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue licking into your mouth as he presses closer. Before you can get comfortable, he moves you again, leaning back and turning you onto your front.

“Indecisive?” You tease, but he just kisses the nape of you neck in response. The first kiss is followed by more, his lips tracing their way down your spine and back up again. It’s slower and more torturous than you expected, especially after how eager Nick had been to get you into bed; perhaps it’s punishment for your insistence on showering first.

Nick rests more of his weight on you, draping himself over your back. You make a soft contented noise at the sensation, your eyelashes fluttering shut as he presses yet more kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.

You’re not quite expecting the growl of frustration, or the bite to your neck that accompanies it. Nick hides his face in the crook of your neck, pinning you so thoroughly to the bed that you can only just manage to turn your head in his direction.

“Nick?” You arch your back; in your drunken state, it’s taken you too long to realise what’s happening. He’s not at all hard. “Nick, if you’re not in the mood-”

“I am,” he groans into your neck, cutting you off. “I am, Kid, just- God, I’ve not had to deal with whiskey dick in years.” His breath is hot against your skin, making you shiver underneath him even as you try to figure out what to do.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, trying not to squirm as he shifts atop you, his leg slipping between yours. “It happens.”

“Shouldn’t,” he huffs, nipping at your neck again. “’s my own fault, drinking on an empty stomach.” You want to try to figure out how to help him, but the press of his thigh between your legs feels so good. You can’t help rocking back slightly against him, trying to angle yourself in just the right position to grind on his thigh.

“What do you want to do?” You ask breathily, and he chuckles against your neck.

“You can stop rubbing yourself on my thigh like a cat in heat.” He ignores your whine, his weight leaving you as he sits up. “If I can’t come, you’re not allowed to either.”

“You sound grumpy,” you say with a giggle. “The alcohol hasn’t personally insulted your manhood, you know.” His palm lands on your ass; it’s barely a swat, but a soft moan escapes you anyway.

“I have a beautiful girl in bed with me who spent the past week trying to convince me to put it in her ass, and my body won’t cooperate. I’m allowed to be annoyed.” Another exasperated sigh escapes him.

You want to help, but before you can figure out what to say, Nick’s hands slide to your hips, encouraging you to move up onto your knees. Your chest stays on the bed, your face still pressed against the mattress as Nick runs his hands down between your thighs.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his thumbs swiping over your folds, spreading you open to expose your cunt. “It’s not fair.” You can barely breathe as he moves closer to you, another sigh escaping him.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, knowing that it’ll make you squirm. Without warning, he licks a broad stripe through your folds, groaning against your skin at the taste of you.

“Nick,” you manage breathlessly. “Nick, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he tells you, one of his thumbs shifting to brush against your clit. “Just let me play with you. See if it gets the blood moving where it’s meant to.” His tongue finds your entrance, dipping inside for a brief moment before he pulls away again. “You still can’t come though.”

Any thoughts you might have about complaining at the injustice go out of your head when his mouth returns to your cunt. You wail as he eats you out with abandon, devouring you with a desperation that has you nearly sobbing in pleasure. That familiar heat builds all too quickly inside you, and just as you’re wondering whether you can get away with coming, Nick pulls away from you.

“Nick,” you nearly sob into the sheets, your thighs shaking. “Nick you can’t, it’s not fair.” He lands another swat on your ass in response, a sharp cry pulled out of you. You’re so wound up that you flinch when he licks his way through your folds again, so sensitive after your ruined orgasm. His hands palm at your ass, squeezing at your flesh as he traces your fluttering entrance with his tongue.

Another sharp little noise escapes you when he pulls away again. He gives you another spank, the tip of his thumb lingering incredibly close to your other hole. His hands grip at your backside, pulling your cheeks apart, and you squirm at how exposed you feel.

“Is this okay?” Nick asks softly, and you nearly choke on your own breath.

“God, yes please.” Satisfied, Nick presses a little more firmly at the tight ring of muscle, the pressure making you squirm. There’s something so deliciously filthy about it, and it makes something deep in your insides twist in anticipation and desire. You’re about to offer to steal lube out of your roommate’s stash, only to jump in surprise when you feel the first brush of his tongue against the puckered skin.

“Fuck, Nick-” you gasp out, heat unfurling down your spine as he uses the tip of his tongue to trace your hole. It’s not something you ever would have imagined Nick being into, but you’re in no mood to stop him.

“Is this okay?” He asks after a moment. You nod quickly, only for him to spank you again. “I need you to use your words, Kid.”

“Yes, it’s okay,” you manage, wailing into the pillows as he responds by dragging the flat of his tongue over you. He laps at your hole, slicking the skin with spit as you squirm at how filthy and debauched it is. Your hair is still damp, the coolness completely at odds with how hot the rest of your body feels.

“I like you like this,” he says, pulling his mouth away just enough to allow the tip of his index finger to press against your asshole. “Ass in the air, all squirmy.” He’s right; you can’t keep still as he lets just the very tip of his finger push past your muscles, holding you open as he laps at you.

You’re not sure how long he keeps you there like that; it’s all you can do to grab fistfuls of the sheets to anchor yourself and moan into the pillows. When you try to push back against him, another hard slap lands across the back of your thigh. You can’t come from this, despite how delicious it feels, but you’re keenly aware of that sticky wetness coating your inner thighs.

Nick pulls another sharp sound from you when he takes his finger away, both hands returning to hold your cheeks open. Something tugs at the back of your brain – he seems to know what he’s doing, but before you can wonder if he’s done this before, you feel the tip of his tongue take the place of his finger, just barely breaching your muscles.

“Oh my God, Nick-” you choke out, barely able to get the breath to form the words with how tightly you’re pressing your face into the pillow. You melt against the sheets as he forces his tongue just a little deeper, heat licking through your veins to pool in your centre.

One of his hands leaves you, and you distantly become aware of the sound of skin sliding against skin. The thought of him touching himself while he’s doing this to you, enjoying you in such a vulnerable position, makes you shiver.

“God, baby,” he murmurs eventually, lifting his mouth away from you just enough to speak. “I love the little noises you make. So responsive…” He shifts a little, and you jump when he bites at the meat of your ass, sucking a hickey into the skin.

“Harder,” you plead, trembling when you feel the scrape of his skin against your flesh. It’s a mark that’ll linger for days, and part of you thrills at the idea. You expect him to lower his mouth back to you, but he gives a low grunt instead, pulling away even further.

“Finally,” he mutters, and you hear him shifting on the bed behind you. One of his hands finds your hips, rolling you over unceremoniously onto your back. From here, you can see he’s finally, gloriously, hard, his cock straining against the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, sitting up to help him get them off. “I think I might have died if you’d kept insisting I couldn’t come because you couldn’t.” Nick bats your hands away, pushing his underwear down himself and pulling your legs open wider.

“When did I say that I’d let you come?”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @irishavengersassemble @ben-c-group-therapy

[mermaids-and-robots]

Title: He Follows Summary: Reader walks home at night and is met with an unfriendly figure. Word count: 4,799 Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader Warnings/Additional tags: 18+, smut/lemon, rape/non-con, oral sex, vaginal sex, stalking, tactical gear/mask/glove fetish, choking, gags, being tied up, kidnapping, swearing, claiming, crying, praise kink, power imbalance, dead dove do not eat, no use of y/n. Originally posted to AO3 on Aug. 24, 2024. AO3 link

It's late at night as you walk home, just after ten, and the lights lining the sides of the street don't offer much more than a dim shine, barely illuminating the darkness. It rained all day, leaving the ground wet to slap under your shoes. Awnings of stores drip off and into the puddles below them. The stray car will drive by every once in a while, the driver minding their own business as they travel. Most shops are closed for the night however a few remain open, either late into the night or are 24/7. A few people come and go from these stores, the second shift employees leaving so the third shift can take over.

You pass a couple of bars and the thumping of music and the sound of drunken laughter can be heard from inside. It makes you smile lightly to hear people having fun. But seeing someone stumble your way, even when they pay you no mind and pass you, causes you to shuffle over a little bit. This path home from work has gotten you into enough run-ins with drunkards, and sober people, more than you've wanted, and you would rather avoid any such confrontation.

There's alleyways that you walk past and don't give any second thought to, as they're usually shallow and empty minus a raccoon or two or a feral cat.

For the most part, people mind their own and don't bother others as they go about their night.

You saunter by a couple of tall, slender brick apartment buildings and hear the entry door close from one of them. People are always coming and going from them, even at this hour, so you don't look back. The person drags behind you by about 20 paces - not too close, not too far. It's nothing abnormal. It's just when they stepped out of the building and they happen to be going to same way you are.

The upcoming intersection you have to take a right. So when it approaches, you do just that, and the person, moments later, still follows. You swallow past a nervous lump in your throat as you begin to grow tense. You think they're following you, whoever it is, but you still don't look back to see who it might be. However, you try to brush off this feeling, trying not to assume the worst and that they're simply going their own way.

It's another few blocks and they are still behind you, and it sounds like they're about the same distance away as when they first exited the building. You think of taking another right turn, which you don't actually have to, but only to see if they continue to trail.

You take the first right turn that appears, down a road you know but not one you take, and sure as shit... they're right behind you. You pick up the pace but try not to make it obvious. Their footsteps follow suit a few seconds later, now more so sounding like a stride than a walk. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and a pit forms in your stomach, and it feels like they're closer to you now.

Your nerves grow and you heart starts to pound, beating hard against your chest and it pulses in your ears. Hastening your pace and now breathing heavy through your nose, every so often taking in a breath through your mouth, your throat begins to get dry at the exertion and growing intensity of the situation. Whoever it is, you know that they're for sure following you. After meandering around from right to left, and left to right, you've gotten yourself into unfamiliar territory and the true panic starts to set it. It's a creeping, crawling sensation that sends chills across your flesh, goosebumps breaking out and causing a hot flash that makes you feel sick for a moment.

You glance behind you with a jog. He, you have now learned, is following you. Still. He's tall and menacing. Much taller than you, and definitely stronger by the looks of it. His long legs keep pace, now around ten steps behind you, with little effort. Even at the speed you're going, he's easily able to keep up. His heavy boots are a bone chilling noise, almost thudding within your ears, as he inches closer.

Someone across the street is walking and appears to have their sights set on one of the 24 hour stores. You shout, "Hey!" to get their attention, but they give you no more than a half assed flit your way and then duck inside the shop. You think of making a bee-line for this place, hoping for safety, so you can call the cops on this creep trailing you. But, even before the thought has time to finish unfolding, the man stalks up to you with an unmatched speed and force.

A hand is on your wrist while the other is over your mouth, pulling you into a dark alley. A muffled "Stop!" comes from you but is hardly audible to him. You swat at him with each attempt to hit him being a failure. He presses his gloved hand against you with a firm, demanding grip, still over your mouth but now also grabbing your face. The hand that was holding your wrist is now around your throat, squeezing. You still try to fight back, to no avail, and your energy feels like it's being drained from you, completely spent. Your breathing quickens to the point you might hyperventilate and pass out, and that's when your vision starts to get blurry and black spots begin to appear.

The last thing you do before blacking out is look up to him and see nothing on his face but dark eyes. The lower portion of his face is covered by a skull balaclava. Then, your eyes flutter shut as everything goes dark.

You come to with fuzzy vision and a headache. You blink at the harsh lighting around you. Rather, the lighting only feels harsh due to the previous events and your headache. You let out a groan as you stretch your neck and try to move your limbs. You are unable to, though, as they're zip-tied to a chair, holding you hostage. You wail, muffled, and that's when you feel the makeshift gag in your mouth that's just a bandana tied around you tightly, stuffed in your mouth.

"Glad to see you're awake." A man states. It's the one who was following you earlier, the one who grabbed you and choked you until you passed out. The one who kidnapped you. You whimper, afraid for you life, and he approaches you.

The room he's keeping you in is filled with nothingness. Just regular, dingy office like lights with off-white walls with a closed door. It's a smaller size room, and upon looking around with a couple quick twists of your neck, the only other furniture in here is an old style metal desk. Your focus goes back to him.

"Not gonna hurt you," he says, though it doesn't sound like he means it. He reaches a hand out and pulls on the gag, letting it fall around your neck. "Help!" you yell, but your throat is coarse and it hurts, feeling like sandpaper. You cough at the unpleasant sensation, making your head throb and causing you to wince in pain.

He cocks his head at you and that's when you notice, now that your eyes have adjusted to the lighting, that he's switched his clothing. He is now wearing a tactical jacket, black, with the pockets empty which would otherwise be full of all the works - knives, grenades, light sources, etcetera. His mask is a full face one, as opposed to what he was wearing earlier, but his eyes show - they're a marvelous brown shade and they look tired, yet warm and welcome. He's got black grease paint applied around his eyes, messy, and he wears black gloves with skeleton appliques on them. You ignore the rest of his body because your main focus is on his face, watching him as he gets closer and towers over you, before he finally squats down and is now face to face with you.

"What do you want?" you rasp out with a harsh tone.

He doesn't answer you. All he does is look at you, taking you in and internally admiring you.

"You." He answers, and it snaps your attention back to him. He stands and paces around the room, all within your line of sight.

You're tired, and whatever he has planned for you better put you out of your misery, you think. You don't want to be awake for whatever he's going to do.

"If you're gonna kill me, just get it over with."

"I'm not gonna kill ya, sweetheart." he says. The pet name makes your stomach churn.

"Don't call me that." you snap.

He bolts over to you, leveling himself with you again. "Don't get mouthy with me," he tells you, "I'll call ya whatever I damn well want." He says, then stands. And as he does, he hooks his finger under your chin, making you look up at him.

"You're disgusting." you snap once more.

He doesn't do anything other than walk away, then replies, "Don't know how much fight you've got in ya... 'specially not after earlier. But you've got a mouth on ya." He pauses before continuing on with his current thought. "Might have to see how good you are with it." He turns his body back to you, focusing his eyes on you.

"I'm sure you would like to know, you freak." At this point, you don't know why you're mouthing off so much, knowing that it's going to get you into trouble with him.

"The fuck did I just tell ya, sweetheart?" A rhetorical question, but he appears by your side and cuts the zipties with a knife he had hidden on him somewhere. Even though you're up and free to move around, you have little strength to put up a fight or to make a run for it. Chances are the door is locked anyway, and it'll be difficult to do anything since your hands are still tied behind your back.

He manhandles you and takes you aside, away from the chair, as you stumble on your feet. He forces you to your knees in front of him, the concrete flooring harsh on your body causing you to hiss against the pain.

Inevitably, you look up to him, eyes automatically landing on his and vice versa. You're sure you know what he's about to do, and he does, getting his dick out of the confines of his jeans. It doesn't surprise you. "How typical." you tell him.

Outwardly, you appear unamused and not at all surprised that a creeping man that was stalking you not too long ago is about to rape you. But first, is of course going to make you suck his dick just to add onto the humiliation and instill the power he has over you. Inwardly, however, you're feeling quite the opposite. The sheer size and girth of him has your stomach doing flips, your mouth watering, and your thighs squeezing together to quell the tingle in your clitoris. You don't care too much what he looks like under the mask and gear, as that's got you riled up as is, but a peek wouldn't hurt, you think.

He viciously grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you closer to him and the tip of his cock brushes against your lips. You twist and crane your head away from him, but each time you do, he ends up guiding you back to his dick anyway. You attempt to keep your mouth shut tight as he teases the tip against your lips, but he has enough of your refusal. He lets go of his member for now and pries your mouth open with his thumb. Once he basically unhinges your mouth, he shoves his index and middle finger into your mouth, resting against each side respectively. He pulls your jaw down and makes you gag on his digits, causing him to let out a puff of a laugh, as he pulls on your hair to open you up for him even more.

"Stop fuckin' around, sweetheart," he commands, "Open up f' me." You let out an audible whine, however you don't know if it's in protest or out of arousal, because it definitely sounded like the latter to you, and you hope he doesn't pick up on it.

He continues to manhandle you as you keep on resisting; not fully opening up for him, yet you haven't bitten him, either. And you could. You should. But you haven't. Why not? You ask yourself. Because you like it. You enjoy the way his deft fingers wiggle in your mouth and how they gag you. You like the rough sensation of his gloves on your tongue and how it makes your mouth water, how it begs to drip from your lips. You're enjoying this little "game" of wrestling with him, and clearly he does, too, since he hasn't done anything more than insist and keep at it.

He grunts and then lets out a gasp, telling you, "C'mon, sweetheart. Open that pretty mouth and suck my cock." The sentence stuns you upon hearing it, and your mouth suddenly drops open, obeying him. "Good girl."

He puts the head in, and then another inch, and then another and another. He keeps going, bit by bit, until his whole length is inside of your mouth and sliding down your throat. You choke and gag around him and he groans at the sounds you make, thrusting into your wet mouth with an unapologetic force.

You whimper and moan around him as tears swell in your closed eyes. He uses the hand in your hair, still gripping, to make you look up to him. "Look at me, pretty girl." he says, and you oblige, opening your eyes and a couple of tears fall. He gruffs out a moan as the sick bastard is pleased with the sight of seeing you cry. "You don't have to cry," he lies in an attempt to reassure you even though it doesn't work, "Not a whole lot, anyway." There it is, he admitted it. What a sick fuck.

He makes you take his cock, forcing you to slurp up and down the shaft. But, admittedly, he tastes so fucking good. Normally sucking dick isn't your type of thing. All of the other times you have, it was consensual. But this time, now that it's not, of course you'd enjoy it. You're just as much of a sick fuck as he is for liking it.

You wouldn't be able to describe it, but he just tastes good. He feels good, too, the soft skin of his hard cock gliding over your tastebuds and into the back of your throat.

You stare into his lust filled brown eyes as you let him fuck your mouth as you lazily hang your jaw open.

"Good girl, just like that."

You jerk your arms, wishing that they were free as you suction your mouth around him. This action catches the man off guard and he loosens his grip in your hair, also not pushing and pulling you as much as he was. You now give him head, sucking on his dick and licking the length before pulling back to give the same attention to his tip.

"Fuck. Like that, sweetheart."

His praise has you moaning around him to cause a pleasing vibration. Eye contact is maintained as you down his dick and, while he wears a look of pleasure in his eyes, a flicker of a smile shines through. It's a cocky, shit eating grin, and you can tell without seeing it. He then throws his head back in some sort of attempt to hide this demeanor as you work him in your mouth.

You give him all you've got and then some, tiring your jaw and exhausting yourself in the worthy process. He moans and grunts through the fabric covering his mouth as he becomes closer to his release. Pre-cum escapes from the tip and into your mouth, landing on your tongue with its tang. You suck him, bobbing your head as his hand is still knotted in your hair to offer you some guidance.

"Almost there, baby." he breathes out as your oral ministrations drive him mad.

He then uses his free hand to grab under your chin, near your neck, and hold you steady there, tilting your head ever so slightly upwards so he can view you. The man gives you one deep and long thrust, saying, "You look pretty with my cock in your mouth." Your eyes widen as your brows come together to form a pathetic, pouty sight as you let out a desperate mewl in response to his words.

Next, he fucks your mouth with vigor, reaching the back of your throat with ease at an unforgiving pace. You sputter around him, choking and gagging the entire time, and his actions have your eyes watering again. The tears escape and run down your face, one at a time, slowly one after the other. When he looks back to you through his hazy mind, he sees this and lets a chuckle escape him. This is only followed by even more harsh thrusts as he throat fucks you with all of his strength. It's got you a drooling mess, embarrassed with a flushed face, all the while your panties are soaked from your needy cunt.

He fucks your mouth a tad more, the last few jolts of his becoming unsteady and losing their pace, his orgasm comes on fast. He shoves his dick down your throat to force the white liquid down, not caring that you're crying and choking. He inhales sharply and exhales harshly as he tries to cover up his jittering hands that still have a firm grip on your head. He groans, almost a growl, as the last of his seed makes its way down your throat.

He pulls himself out and makes you stand with a hand under your arm, and then takes you over to the table at the back of the room. Fuck, you think, that's what it's for.

He doesn't free your hands and you assume he doesn't have any plans to just yet, if at all. Then he undoes your jeans, pulling them down and tossing them away, along with your panties. He bends you over the desk and your face rests against its metal surface, cold on your cheek, as he wastes zero time to swipe his cock through your soaked pussy lips.

You gasp at the feeling the moment he touches you, letting out a soft, "Fuck." as he does, hoping he didn't hear you. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as you know what's about to come next, heading still pounding.

"If I didn't know any better," he starts, "I'd guess that you like this."

"Fuck you." you reply.

"Oh sweetheart," he bends over your body to get his mouth next to your ear, now whispering, "that's what I'm gonna do." He continues to wet his cock through your folds as he stays next to you. "This pussy is mine. Ya got that?" It's not a rhetorical question, and he wants an answer. "I asked: ya got that?"

You shakily reply, "Y-yes..." as he puts just barely the tip in.

"Ghost." he says.

"W-what?" you ask, tears in your eyes again.

He stands straight now. "It's Ghost," he replies, almost calmly, "That's what you can call me when I fuck you."

And then, before you can think of what to say, he's sheathed his length inside of your warm center, right away causing immense pleasure in your body as he brushes past that nerve bundle inside of you. A sharp whine lets itself loose from your lips and he revels in the sound, snickering lightly as he admires your wet warmth.

He begins to screw you with an unrushed pace, taking his time with you, telling you, "You're such a whore, sweetheart. Liking what I'm doin' to ya."

"I'm not a whore," you spit back, "It's you. Ah!" That well placed thrust made you whine out, halfway causing your eyes to roll back. "It's you," you continue, "'cause you can't keep your dick in your pants."

He hunches over your back once more and his hot breath tickles against your ear before he speaks. "But whose pretty little cunt is so fuckin' wet for me?" Then, he reaches a hand to your front and, without warning, he gently strokes your clit. It's so needy for his touch that immediately the action has you writhing against him. His name is on the tip of your tongue and it's making attempts to escape, to spill off of your tongue and past your lips, into the air of the room for him to hear. But you won't say it, you can't say it, and you can't let him gain that satisfaction. Even though he's already got you in all the ways he wants you, you still can't give him that satisfaction.

However, he still plays with your clit, rubbing it in slow, small circles that would get any woman weak in the knees. The sensation jolts through your body, added on top of his cock stretching you out and pleasing you from the inside. Each time his finger strokes over your nub, it causes your knees to buckle and feel weak, only causing you to bump back and further onto the man. Repeating this process has you entirely weak and it's hard to resist the obvious pleasure he's giving you. Difficult to resist crying out his name as he fucks you so good.

You close your eyes again and try to think of literally anything else to get your mind away from the beautiful feelings he's giving you. But nothing works, though, as any second your mind starts to wander, you get brought back to reality with that gorgeous flick to your clit that's pretty much got your mind fried by now.

Your eyes shoot open when he picks up the pace and pounds into you, as well as now applying more pressure to your jewel. He nips and bites your neck and leaves a hot trail of marks. You moan, whine, and gasp as you let it all out. All of it except for his name. Can't do it, won't do it, you tell yourself. He won't win this, but he's got you right where he wants you.

His cock dives deeper into you, somehow, repeatedly pressing against your favorite spot inside, as he continues to work on your clitoris. He still leaves marks on your neck, having placed very few kisses to it and more so licking and biting you.

"Your pussy is mine, sweetheart. All mine."

His tip hits that spot you love and his digits swipe over your clit. It's so well timed and mixed with his words, it has you like putty in his hands, ready to be shaped and used however he wants. He repeats the motion again, coaxing that warm knot in your lower stomach forth. He's unrelenting with your clit, so much so that your legs are shaking uncontrollably as you jut your ass back towards him, only giving him more leeway to use your pussy.

Your walls begin to softly flutter around his member but you fight it off the best you can, biting your bottom lip in the process to fight saying his name, let alone even think of it. But all your brain can come back with is how good he's fucking you and that you should just give in, give him what he wants. The thought of him fucking you even harder, as rough as possible, as you loudly cry out his name over and over has you squelching around him as your arousal leaks onto his cock even more.

It's as if he was just reading your mind, because now, he stands straight and fucks you with as much force as he can. With his free hand on your hip, a tight grip to hold you in place like the good slut you are, he begins to screw your brains out. He's giving that term a meaning right now, and fucking hell, you love it. He lets out powerful grunts behind you as his hips snap to yours, the sound of skin against skin along with his noises filling the room. And don't forget about yourself; Bent over for him like a naughty girl, just asking for him to raw your pussy with how wet you got from sucking him off.

The force of him fucking you has the desk slamming against the wall, a loud clank with each thrust. But there's not a care in the world about it from either of you. Hell, what are you going to do about it anyway? Like he said; Your pussy is his. And, apparently, you are not done until he says you are.

His fingers work overtime on your clit regardless of how over stimulated it is. The way you shake and whimper at each movement has him savoring the moment, wanting to get you closer to your orgasm so he can know how you'll feel around him.

With the most perfectly placed swipe of a finger on your clit that you've ever experienced, combined with a perfectly timed thrust into your aching cunt, you spill your thoughts, finally turning them into words.

"Ghost!" you cry out, simultaneously overwhelmed and upset with yourself that you let him have that victory. "Fuck- Ghost!" He grins, laughing, continuing to assault your pussy. There is, however, one last win that he might not get. Making you orgasm. If you don't give him that, he loses.

Still, you continue to shout his name as if it's the only word you know at the moment. Though, it kind of is. He's got you so dick drunk that all you can do, besides let out pathetic noises, is say his name repeatedly. "Ghost, Ghost, Ghost!" Begging him with no more words than that, "Ghost," a cute mewl or a coo as you say his name. And he throbs at the sound of it, from how you say it to how your pussy tenses up when you say his name.

He doesn't stop any of what he's doing. Playing with your clit to work and win you over. Pounding into your pussy with his rock hard cock, brushing against your favorite spot.

"Ghost!" His name spills from your lips over and over, and you keep it up, unable to stop yourself at this point. It just comes out with each thrust at this point. 

"Atta girl." he praises, unrelenting with his actions. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum on my cock for me."

You forget entirely about what you were thinking as he has taken over every aspect of you right now. But it doesn't matter... It feels too damn good.

You give him exactly what he wants, and you remind yourself that he's won you over completely. But you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, to shut up, as the peak of your orgasm takes you away. You huff out heavy breaths with your face against the desk as your walls spasm around the man, coaxing him to cum as well.

You feel fucking incredible as your cunt squeezes him, now milking him dry as he spills his load into you.

"Ghost!" you yell, pleasured, at the feeling.

"Fuckin' hell, sweetheart." He breathes, labored, as he stills himself, too over stimulated to keep going as his cum shoots into you.

When he's spent, he fixes his appearance. He doesn't help you with anything, however; not with getting dressed or with getting you back to the chair.

"Stay there," he tells you, "Only be a moment." He leaves, closing and locking the door behind him.

He approaches the door only a few minutes later, and you're still in the same position, just how he told you. The door doesn't open yet but you hear chatter on the other side.

The door swings open shortly after and you can hear Ghost's footsteps, which are unmistakable by now. They stop and the door clicks closed. The other person follows Ghost by a few steps, stopping in the middle of the room.

The other person's eyes make their way to you, landing on your spent, still wet pussy, and he says in a thick German accent, "What a beautiful sight."

[yandereavatar]

sintasies - entry 12 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

(It’s been a while, enjoy)

The subway was full today. I closed my eyes as my music played from my earbuds into my ears. There were no seats available so I was standing, my skirt was short but I wasn’t cold. Everyone was minding their own business, just trying to get to work, just like I was trying to get to class. I stood at the corner as it easier to lean against.

But then…

I felt something, poking my hip. Brushing back and forth. It was hard, long, and thick. I wondered what it could be. I bit my lip, looking to my right. You were there, tall and brooding - looking down at me with a dark glint in your eyes. I moved forward, away from you. Your hands move to grab my hips, pulling my ass against you, and you groaned.

You lean down to my height and whisper as I glance around nervous, “You don’t mind if I use you, right?”

“What do you mean?” I hiss back and attempt to move forward again which your grip prevented.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” I continue to look around, nobody seemed to even notice the interaction I was experiencing. I tuck my hair behind my ear and lick my lips. Eventually I let my curls fall forward to hide my face.

A gasp escapes my lips as I feel you reach down to move my underwear to the side. To my surprise I was already wet, making my cunt the perfect place for your fingers. You rubbed my clit slowly, causing a small moan to escape my lips. I close my mouth abruptly, careful not to let anything else slip out.

You unzip your pants, releasing your member underneath my skirt, rubbing it against my cunt slowly. You were big and throbbing, I could feel your blood pumping. Your mushroom head collided with my clit over and over - I shifted my hips to gain friction which you invited for a short period of time before holding me still.

“Close your legs,” you told me, your body shielding me as you moved us further into the corner.

I do so quickly and you begin thrusting back and forth. Your pre-cum spreading onto my thighs. I hum softly, your breathing speeds up as you continue to move slightly, I could tell you didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention as you used me to pleasure yourself. I couldn’t believe what was happening, I felt sticky and wet.

“That’s right, baby,” you smirk, “You’re gonna make me cum,” you mumble, gripping my hips tighter as you blow your load, your cum hitting the inside of my skirt.

“Mm, Daddy,” I grip the handle bars as I cum as well, biting inside of my jacket to prevent myself from releasing sound. You pull away from me as I collect myself, grounding my breathing as the subway grinds to a halt. My legs almost give out but you hold me in place preventing me from falling until the cart eventually stops.

You exit, swiftly and I watch you walk away from me.

[1000feetunder]

Entry Number 6 : The Creatures Entities Residents of the Hadal Blacksite.

' I have decided to start naming these entries, so I can more easily refer back to my writings. In this section I will be writing my thoughts about the residents of the Hadal Blacksite, and behaviours I've learned.

Anglers: There appear to be several 'Angler' type residents, each unique to another. By my counting there are about six of them, though I am unsure of the last.

They each have nicknames I've heard other expendables call them by. 'Angler': Medium speed, lights flicker. 'Blitz': Fast speed, Lights flicker twice. Hide as quick as possible. 'Pinkie': Loud, lights don't flicker. Smallest of them. Stay alert. 'Froger': Medium speed, lights flicker, makes 3 rounds. Stay alert. 'Chain Smoker': Slow speed, produces fear inducing gas from mouth. Stay alert. 'Pandemonium': Light's flicker, Loud. I am unsure if Pandemonium is part of the Angler's but it's very similiar. It will actively hunt you down. Hiding in a locker is the safest choice, but it will attack. Keep your wits about you and stay in the locker. It will leave eventually. They all intrigue me greatly. I've only had the chance at seeing them as they make their passes through the halls, and have been un able to study them up close. Sebastion has their file, but that seems like cheating. - 'VoidMasses'. I do not understand these things in the slighest. They inhabit lockers, and I've seen them behind doors. When I first arrived and traveled with a group of expendables I watched as one of them mistakenly entered a locker with one hiding inside. Our groups leader was quick enough to drag her back out though. - 'The Good People' terrify me if I'm being frank. I've been attacked by them twice, each while I was rushing to find a place to hide from one of the Anglers. I was lucky enough to find a locker soon after, but that pAInter's laughing at my 'stupidity' was not well recieved. I am unsure of what they even are, but they look fleshy with some form of mask. Not my favorite. - 'Wall Dwellers' are more annoying than anything. THey live in the walls as their name suggests. I once whitnessed as an expendable was attacke by one. Another time I was chased by an Angler, a Wall Dweller behind me. After exiting my hiding place I found the Wall Dweller dead. I was tempted to study it, but others things needed to be done. Maybe next time. - 'pAInter' is...interesting. From what I've learned they are a computer that runs throughout the entire Hadal Blacksite. How odd. That is [This section has been scribbled out.]. So far, each time I have died here was caused by this computer. Twice by turrets , once by a 'Gauntlet'. I have no proper opinion on them, but Sebastion knows this computer. Perhaps we should meet face to face. -

'Eyefestaion' is a shark with many eyes. Looking at it causes great pain, but Sebastion once suggested to me if I pretend to look at it with my goggles, it may let me go. But seeing as I am practically half blind, along with my goggles being broken, I doubt I can test this as of now. I would like to study 'EyeFest' up close but so far any attempt seems to be fatal. Another day. -

My Friends.

Lobby. A giant talking Lobster I met while visiting Sebastion in his shop. Turns out he has a more humanoid form. He does not originate from the BlackSite, which lines up. He's been able to go between here and the surface and has brought back stolen goods from a convience store. Perhaps next time he takes a trip I'll ask him to bring back some candy bars. I miss Paydays. And instant coffee. I hope to see the surface with him one day.

Sebastion Solace. The whole reason I'm here. He doesn't know my reasoning, but he knows I'm here because of him. I finally got to read his full and updated file. I hated it. I wish I could have asked him myself. Sebastion and Lobby. They both mean so much. I don't think I could ever tell them.

Maybe soon I can tell them why I'm here.

They deserve to know that much.

They deserve to know.

We'll all get out of here. We're all going to survive, and make it back to the surface together. I'll make sure of it.

Sighing out, - Cali A. '

P.S: Another 'Resident' I forgot. Spencer.

Kill on Sight. Do not hesitate.

[swanimagines]

Bastard and the Blood Princess [Chapter 6]

Read it on AO3 | Read it on Wattpad

The uncomfortable silence was surrounding the air around you as you stood there, looking into the distance, not speaking. The clocktower had rang twice during it - you had to admit that standing two hours without speaking was admirable. Even when Kaz did sit down once in a while.

You thought about it for quite some time, but then opened your mouth. “I have imagined Pekka tied up in my chair a lot during these couple of days. Pulling his teeth out one by one, severing his fingers. Revelling in his screams and begs of mercy. But I wouldn’t give mercy, Saints know what he did to my parents. He didn’t give mercy to them, either.”

You didn’t look at him, but you knew Kaz moved his head slightly to look at you. You swallowed and continued, “I want him to suffer, and then die slowly.”

Kaz was quiet for a moment, or two. You felt his eyes on you, before he sighed quietly. “He took everything from me. Death isn't enough.”

You slowly turned to look at him, your eyes slowly travelling up to his face. His eyes were shadowed by that ridiculous guard hat’s brim, but you knew he looked into the distance. You mulled over your words for a moment, thinking if you should ask it, if it was too risky. But decided to go with it anyway. “What did he do to you?”

He took in a deep breath, and pursed his lips. “Something I can never get back.”

Then, he snapped out of it as the bell rang, and he scaled the building with his eyes. “Inej is coming.”

You frowned and turned to look, but saw nothing. “How do you know?”

He didn’t reply, but sure enough, the Wraith came out of the door after a moment, with Jesper trailing shortly behind her. Kaz nodded at them, and then started walking away, wordlessly telling you three to follow.

You took a look at Inej, then Jesper, then shook your head.

Betraying them would be a tough piece to get out from and staying alive.

—

As you arrived back at the pub, a travelling circus had gathered quite a crowd, and fortunately no one suspected anything as you went right at the bar counter and spread out the blueprint. You stared at it for a few moments, and then Jesper pointed at an entry at the east side of the palace.

“What about…”

Inej shook her head, pointing at one of the towers. “No, look.” 

You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but you knew that these three had been looking at blueprints for a longer time than how long you had had your little torture chamber.

Inej pointed at another entry. “What about this hallway?”

Jesper pointed at the west side. “No go. See, a guard tower.”

You stared at the map for a few moments longer, before Inej sighed, looking at Kaz. “There’s no way in.”

“And no way out,” Kaz agreed, pulling back a little.

Arken glanced at the acrobat performing, before mumbling, “Well, I thought this plan wouldn’t work…”

And at that moment, the acrobat behind you fell down in the middle of her performance and everyone except Arken turned to look. You sighed. “Okay, what did you do?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “What do you mean? I didn’t even touch her, but that’s a terrible accident.”

Right after that, he stood up from the table and dove into the bustling crowd that had gathered around the scene of “accident”. You stared after him and took a swig from your drink. “He’s up to something.”

Nobody replied, just stared in front of themselves blankly. What could - and would - follow if you returned to Ketterdam empty handed. 

Well, you just would need to get rid of these three before getting back and everything would be fine with you. Maybe you could do something while sitting in Arken’s train, without putting yourself in danger? Once you’d get back to Ketterdam, you would lay out a new plan to kidnap the Sun Summoner with your father, and this time, there would be no fear someone would make it before you. The three Crows would have been ripped apart by Volcra by the time you exited the Fold.

But… something inside you nagged at your plans. Saying you shouldn’t do that. The little girl inside you whined again, saying you aren’t that way.

But you needed to be. Had to be. You wouldn’t survive in Ketterdam by being some innocent little girl with a flower basket, throwing flowers around like some foolish, weak princess in a fairytale, waiting to be rescued by a prince in a silver armour and flowing cape. You’d have a bullet hole on your forehead if you were that way - blood trickling down your face before you’d fall on the ground. People laughing at you, covering you with mud. Stuffing you into a trash barrel and throwing you into the Reaper’s Barge.

You’d never end up like that.

“Friends!” Arken’s exclamation made you flinch, and you turned around to see Arken and some rotund man with long, curly hair.

“What are you so cheery about?” Kaz grumbled and Arken playfully poked Kaz before he wrapped his arm around the other man.

“This is Marko. He is the leader of a travelling circus, but as you may have seen, there was a terrible accident. Their poor acrobat, the top performer, fell down and broke her leg, and is unable to perform. They’re scheduled to perform at the winter fete at the Little Palace.”

“A lifelong dream!” Marko sobbed and blew his nose.

“Yes, yes. But I told him that I may have a solution, I may have a replacement performer,” Arken continued and gestured behind Kaz.

Everyone turned to look at Inej, Jesper with a grin and Kaz with raised eyebrows. Inej stared back at Kaz for a moment, before she clenched her jaw. “Fine.”

—

Soon after, Inej and also Jesper had been taken into the circus crew, and Marko turned to you and Kaz. “The stage is yours, which of you goes first?”

You scoffed and Kaz just stared at the grinning man before speaking, “I make my own way.”

The man nodded and turned away, and then began ushering his crew into the wagon. 

“And… how do we get in?” you mumbled, leaning over to Kaz. 

Kaz glanced at you, and then nodded towards the door. “I have a plan.”

You followed him outside and walked for a few minutes, before Kaz caught that same carriage you had used earlier and you climbed in. Kaz mumbled something to the driver before he followed you, sitting across from you.

You started putting pieces together as Kaz shed his coat, seemingly trying to make himself comfortable. “Are we really going to sit here for three days, staring at each other?”

Kaz raised his eyebrows at you, before he leaned back, placing his cane to lean against his knee. “I’d rather not have you stare at me. But yes, we’re going to sit here for some time, and I need you to listen to me carefully. If you make even one mistake, you’re out and we’re leaving you on your own. If you do it intentionally, I’ll send you back to Pekka, your remains stuffed into a toy box.”

You nodded and swallowed. “What’s the plan?”

Kaz observed you for a moment, his eyes narrowing, and then he averted his eyes from you, looking outside as the carriage started moving. “It will be a test. You’re going to show me if you can do what you promised. You will accompany me to steal two guard uniforms for us. There's a small warehouse for new ones, two hours north from Os Alta. We're going to stop by a hotel for the night and sleep, because unfortunately our driver requires it unless I pay him five times more than what I already paid.

You scoffed. “You can’t threaten him? I certainly can–”

Kaz rolled his eyes before locking eyes with you briefly. “No. We could get arrested if we get caught from doing that, we can’t risk it. We will make it, if the driver follows my specific directions. And he will, because I will take my money back from him unless we make it in time and he knows it.”

You nodded, shedding off your own coat, only now noticing how torn up and dirty it was. You groaned. “I really need to get a new coat.”

—

That little hotel six hours from Kribirsk wasn’t anything luxurious, but you had honestly expected something like a rat infested shed rather than a hotel like this - rather well tended one, it wasn’t like that motel Nina stayed in. The stairs were clean and the railing wasn’t cracked, the walls still had their paint mostly intact, the rooms didn’t smell bad. Overall, no complaints, it was a regular, simple hotel.

All rooms but one were taken. And your driver was apparently a regular there, and got a room just by walking to the front counter even when the receptioner said only one room was vacant. And from the looks of it, how your driver licked his lips while looking the reception lady over, his eyes lingering on her cleavage - you knew why he was a regular. 

So, you were left with only one room with Kaz. Splendid. This could be the night.

You opened the door with that big, heavy key and carefully pushed the door open. You let out a relieved breath and thanked the Saints under your breath - there were two beds.

Despite that, Kaz didn’t seem happy and he shuffled for a moment before making his way inside, scaling the room with his eyes and testing the floorboards with his cane. You quickly realised he was looking for a floorboard that creaked.

You rolled your eyes, sighing. “I’m not going to attack you in the middle of the night.”

He paused, slowly turning to look at you. “You prefer attacking me during the daytime, then?”

You sighed, making your way on the bed. “You know what I mean. Attacking you would result in my death, and would also take my way to get rid of Pekka. And I would also have no point in doing that.”

Kaz stared at the floor, a deep scowl on his face. He tapped one of the floorboards a couple of times, before stepping on it. Almost completely silent creak was heard, and Kaz cocked an eyebrow.

“You want me to jump on it if I plan on attacking you during the night?” you asked with an amused huff.

He glared at you and you rolled your eyes. You looked at the floor for a moment, before you knelt on the ground and felt around. One of the floorboards had a crack in between it and the one beside it, so you took a big knife from your boot and stuck it into the crack. You then gave the floorboard some powerful tugs, before it snapped a little, and you tested it with your feet.

That floorboard, and all floorboards around it, now creaked loudly.

Kaz stared at the floor, then at you. You shrugged, handing the knife to him. “A little trick I learned when I was a child.” 

Kaz narrowed his eyes again at you, and then slowly took the knife. "You didn't say you wield a knife in your boot, despite me explicitly stating I can't have you have weapons around me or my crew."

You grimaced and handed the knife to Kaz, who took it carefully and inspected it. You clasped your hands in front of you and sighed. "Sorry. I stole it from the Healer when she didn't see, I was scared that I wouldn't be able to defend myself in a bad place. I was supposed to give the knife to you earlier, but I forgot."

Kaz let out a long breath through his nose, before he tested the floor himself. It creaked loudly, however he stepped on it and pressed it. Some floorboards creaked louder than others, but the noise would definitely wake up everyone during the night. It would be a menace to use the bathroom at night as the whole hotel would likely hear the noise, but you had to make Kaz believe you were being sincere - and even when this would have been a perfect opportunity to assassinate Kaz, something told you that it wasn’t a good time yet.

You sat on the bed, bringing your hands on your lap. “I just want you to believe I’m worth your trust. Or at least to the extent that we get rid of Pekka together. After that, you’ll never have to see me again. I’m actually planning to leave Ketterdam once Pekka is gone.”

Kaz took a look at you again before he returned to look at the floor. Then he sighed, cocking his head while still having his eyes on the floor. “It’s a shame you’re a Rollins. You could make a good Dreg.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Is that a compliment?”

He scoffed, finally going to sit on his bed across the room. “We should sleep. We aren’t leaving this hotel room before sunrise at least, and our driver may have too much fun sleeping. And we’re likely to get to listen to some of his fun.”

You huffed before yawning and rolling your shoulders, and then slowly lying down. “Well, until morning. Good night.”

You knew you wouldn’t get an answer, and you also knew he’d observe you as long as he was convinced you had fallen asleep, before finally getting some sleep himself.

A shame in a way - him being tired could have left him being slower. Less rational. More easily attacked and defeated.

You could have just pretended you don’t know what to do about the creaking floorboards. Make him risk it, make him stay awake through the night. Actually, that would have been a perfect opportunity to do that - killing him was the main mission, after all. Inej and Jesper were on the circus wagon, on the way to Os Alta, they’d have no idea, no way to save Kaz. But still, something had told you that it wasn’t the time yet.

But when would be that right time? Your time was running out, you were just days away from the Little Palace. If you made it to Little Palace and out and attack then, you could lose the Sun Summoner, making it impossible for your father to fetch her later.

Every day, it would be more and more risky - things would become trickier and harder to manage. It wasn’t like you to make mistakes, and if you made more mistakes like this, you’d fail your mission and your father’s Empire would die away.

You needed to get it together before that, and figure out why you didn’t use the opportunity when it was presented on a silver plate. Why did you make such an idiotic choice, to make Kaz trust you in expense of making him too tired to be able to fight more when needed.

You knew you needed to set your way home within three days, before reaching the Little Palace, and proudly tell your father how Kaz's body was dumped somewhere in Ravka. There was no other choice. 

With that thought, you closed your eyes and let sleep take you.

---

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Taglist: This does not and will not have a taglist, so please don't ask to be added. If you want to get informed about new chapters, I recommend subscribing to the work in AO3. Or adding the story into your library in Wattpad, but I'd recommend getting AO3 account more.

[darknessawaits28]

I Would Burn The World For You My Love {Tom Hiddleston Mafia Story, y/n} Chapter 1

Hello my lovies! Happy Thanksgiving! I wanted to give you the first small chapter of this story. I hope yall enjoy and thank you again for all your love and support! Yall are awesome! Thank you my lovies! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! :3

Storyline: Would yall want to see a long story about Tom Hiddleston (Of course using another name but using his face claim) as a mafia boss who has finished his 4 year sentence in prison  and finds out that you (his beloved who used to be his fiancé) has recently found another fiancé (preppy/ rich man). He then tries to win you back but it eventually leads you into getting kidnapped by one of his rivals and so your new fiancé assists your old one in finding you again.

Warnings: Smut, blood, ropes, possible torture, abuse, alcohol, murder, cursing, etc. Viewer Discretion is highly advised. ((Note: First Chapter will contain use of alcohol and cursing, later chapters might contain the rest))

Chapter 1: The Day Freedom Beckoned

Year 4 {Last Day} 

Four years, four years of my life wasted away rotting here in this cell. Everyday was a challenge for me. I had to endure the horrors that was life inside this prison. Being next to a disgusting cellmate even brought chills down my spine. But the people here knew not to fuck with me. I was untouchable, and they knew it. Even this one cellmate by the name of Smith Warren tried to stab me while I was showering yesterday, but I quickly put a stop to that when I jabbed his own weapon into his throat. The guards of course wrote it off as self defense with a small gift happily donated to their bank accounts. Well, I am happy today is my last day here in CrownField Prison, I can’t endure another day here staring at the ceiling, hoping that my family, beloved, and my men are alright. 

Signed, 

Damion Lyons 

“Lyons, pack it up, today is your last day” A passing guard said as he slammed his baton onto the metal bars.

Damion, hearing the guard, stood from his desk, closing his diary that had a lot of his entries dating to the beginning of when he first entered this horrid prison. Slowly walking over to his bunk, he grabbed his sack, making sure to put all of his belongings in there. Once everything was inside, he grabbed his diary, facing the cell doors and waiting for the guards to open it.

“Don’t be a stranger, Lyons, you’ll always be welcome here” His cellmate laughed, jumping onto his top bunk to watch him leave.

“Prisoner, stand away from the doors, now!” One of the guards yelled at Damion, causing him to slowly walk backwards. 

The minute the doors opened, the guard gestured to him with his index finger to step out. Damion, compiling with their orders, exited his cell, watching as it closed right behind him. “See you around Fox” Damion smirked back at his cellmate, giving him an indication that he wasn’t safe behind these bars. 

“Move” the guard ordered Damion, pushing him slightly to make him comply to move forward. 

Damion shook his head, continuing to walk forward, heading towards the processing area. “Hello Linda” he smiled softly, setting his things down in the tray and then began to sign some papers that she had passed to him.

“Hello Damion, hope I don’t see you again” she chuckled, grabbing the finished signed papers he had given her. 

“I hope so” he also chuckled, grabbing his belongings and then heading out of the prison.

From the outside there was a brand new Rolls Royce waiting, and beside it stood a well built man with an elegant tailored suit and tattooed arms. 

“Out you go prisoner” The guard waved his hand to Damion.

As Damion stepped out of the prison, he sighed in pleasure at the smell of freedom. He was finally free from this hellhole. No more showering together, no more sharing a bunk with a cellmate, and no more unnecessary fights to show dominance.

“Mr. Lyons” the man spoke respectfully, opening the back car door for him as he approached.

“Ohara, you don’t need to be professional with me, you are my second in command.” “Come here!” Damion laughed as he set his sack down and hugged the living daylights out of him.

Ohara laughed at his gesture, hugging him back and patting his back. “It’s good to see you again boss, we’ve all missed you.”

“Good to be back” he chuckled, pulling away from the hug and grabbing his sack from the ground. “How’s your family?” 

“They’re good, happy that I didn’t end up….you know here….”. “Listen boss, if there is anything I could do to make up for you taking the fall I-”

“Hush now, you are my family, I couldn’t let you take the fall for that crime.” “Besides, your family would’ve been devastated without you for that long, especially your daughter.”

Ohara held back the tears that he wanted to shed for his boss. He might’ve been tough, but he cared about his loved ones. “Well then, there’s a nice cold bottle of champagne waiting for you inside, boss, enjoy it while I take you back to your mansion.”

“Oh thank god, I have been wanting a glass of champagne for the longest time now” Damion chuckled, quickly getting inside the car and then setting his sack on the floor, beginning to pour himself a glass.

Once he got inside, Ohara closed the door behind him, got inside the driver’s seat, closed the door, and then headed off down the road. “Boss, are you hungry?” 

“Famished.”

“Heh, alright, what do you want to chow on?”

“I want a fucking burger, with fries” Damion laughed as he grabbed his phone that was in the charging port and began to check his messages. 

“McDonalds then?” 

“Oh now you’re talking, please.” 

“Of course, heading there now.”

As Ohara took a left turn, Damion scanned through his messages, seeing that all his accounts were taken care of, his bank account looking mighty thick at the moment, and all of his businesses here in America and across the oceans were booming. “Hmm, business is looking good.” “Ohara, was there anything new that happened?”

“Well, the Jade Bats sent you their tax with a bonus for helping them take care of Xander.” 

“How much?”

“Five million dollars.”

“Why, quite generous of them.” “Later, can you personally deliver those expensive meats they always love to chow down on?”

“Of course sir” Ohara nodded, turning the wheel to the left again, arriving at McDonalds. “Do you want me to go inside or do you want the drive through boss?”

“Eh drive through is better Ohara, so you don’t have to get out” Damion shrugged. 

“No problem” Ohara spoke as he pulled up into the drive through and waited for the person to talk to him through the microphone.

“Hello, welcome to McDonalds, what can I get for you?”

“Hi, yes, can I get a big mac, with large fries, and a large coke.” “Anything else boss?” Ohara called back to Damion.

“Hmm, you know, add ten chicken nuggets to that please.”

“Would that be all?” the woman over the speaker questioned. 

“No, can I also get ten chicken nuggets with that.”

“Sure, any sauce?” 

“Yeah, barbecue please.”

“Of course, would that be all?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, a big mac, with large fries, a large coke, and ten chicken nuggets, that’ll be $20.50 at the window.”

“Thank you” Ohara said softly, beginning to drive forward to the first window, stopping and then grabbing his wallet for his credit card. 

“$20.50” the woman smiled when she opened the window. 

“Here ya are darling” Ohara smiled, handing her the credit card and waiting for her to pass it back to him.

“There you go, also nice car by the way” The woman giggled cutely, handing him back his credit card. 

“Thank you, it's actually my boss’s.” 

“Oh, my bad” she shrugged a bit, wanting to be flirtatious with the man that ‘supposedly’ had lots of money, judging by the expensive car he was driving. 

As Ohara pulled forward to the next window, Damion laughed softly to himself as he turned his phone off. “Oh, my bad” he mocked the girl a bit. 

“Shut up” Ohara joked with his boss, turning to his left when the worker was passing him the food and drink. “Thank you.” “There ya go boss, enjoy.”

“Mmm, fucking finally” Damion growled in hunger, almost salivating on himself as he began to munch down on those deliciously oversalted fries. “Gods, these fries are like cocaine man, can’t get enough.” 

Ohara chuckled to himself as he pulled out of the McDonalds and headed down the busy road to Damion’s mansion. “I’m glad your happy boss, you deserve it.” 

“Yeah, prison was hell, and the food was even worse” Damion sighed, grabbing the big mac from the bag and unwrapping it. “Now this is a burger.” “I know it’s processed and filled with a ton of chemicals, but right now, I could care less” he chuckled, taking an enormous bite of the burger. 

“Do you want the soda boss, or do you want to continue drinking the champagne?” Ohara asked curiously, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 

“No, I’m fine, you drink it.”

“No problem boss.”

Within minutes, Damion had devoured the contents of the Mcdonald's bag, leaning back against the seat with a pleasing face. “Thank you Ohara, that was a delicious meal.”

“I’m glad boss, we’re almost to your home.” 

“Beautiful.” “Also, after delivering those meats can you send a gift to Sander Fox, my cellmate in prison” Damion glanced up at the rearview mirror with dangerous eyes, hoping that Ohara understood what he wanted. 

Ohara, also glancing at the mirror, nodded, “Painless or painful?”

“I want his very existence to be ruined, do you understand me Ohara?” Damion spoke with venom laced in his voice. 

“Already done sir” Ohara looked back towards the road, grabbing the remote that controlled the opening of the gates. With the push of a button, the two enormous metal gates (reading Lyons Estate on the top) opened, allowing for the Rolls Royce to easily pass through. “It’s just me Charles, bringing the boss in” Ohara smiled as he stopped the car for a second to say hello to the guard that supervised the gate. 

“Hey Ohara, good to see you again, and oh hello sir, good to have you back” Charles nodded to Damion who sat in the back.

“Hello Charles, and thank you, I’m happy to be back” Damion smiled genuinely. 

“Well, I’ll catch up later, see ya Charles.”

“See ya Ohara” Charles chuckled, bumping knuckles with him and allowing him to go through.

As Ohara continued to drive, Damion bowed his head slightly to take in the view of his mansion from afar. It was an enormous house that had around 12 rooms, 12 bathrooms, an enormous dining room with a fireplace, a library with spiral stairs that lead to the second floor of books, a game room, a theater, an indoor pool with a hot tub, a wine cellar, a gun room, and a vault full of precious materials that only Damion and Ohara knew about. “Welcome home boss.”

Damion sighed happily as the car pulled around the roundabout and stopped directly in front of the enormous doors that led inside his beautifully and well kept home. 

“I got the door boss, one second” Ohara said softly, turning off the car, stepping out, closing the door behind him, quickly rushing around the car towards Damion’s side and opening the door for him. 

“Thank you Ohara” Damion smiled, making sure to grab his phone and stepped out of the car with his sack behind his back.

“Mr. Lyons, welcome home” Samuel, Damion’s butler, spoke as he walked down the steps to greet him.

“Samuel, such a long time, you look good.”

“Why thank you sir, may I take your belongings?” 

“Oh, thanks” Damion pulled his sack from his back and handed it to him, but decided to keep his phone close to him. 

“Of course sir, your shower is ready with the necessary clothing that we know you like to wear.” “Dinner will be ready in a few hours, and your whiskey has been delivered promptly and is ready for you to partake in.”

“Hmmm, sounds wonderful Samuel, thank you.” 

“Boss, while you get settled in, I’m heading back to the prison, and I’ll personally deliver the meat to the Jade Bats afterwards.”

“Perfect, thank you Ohara, be careful not to get caught” Damion bowed his head slightly as to warn him to not fuck up. 

Ohara nodded in respect, quickly rushing off to the car and getting inside, driving off to the first location.

As Damion stepped inside, Samuel followed quickly behind him, making sure that the two guards closed the doors behind them. “My, it is wonderful to smell those delicious incense again.” “Alright, well, I’ll be upstairs Samuel.”

“Of course sir, enjoy” Samuel bowed his head again and headed off to empty out his sack and place his belongings in their proper place.

Once Damion approached the marble staircase, he extended out his hand, gently caressing the beautiful craftsmanship that was the banister. He wanted to take his time in enjoying the fruits of his labor after spending four years within confined walls, privy to nothing but screams, yells, and little sunlight. 

“Boss, you alright?” One of the guards spoke as he watched him caress the banister.

“Yes, I’m alright, thank you, just……taking my time in enjoying what I haven’t had for four years.”

“Oh…of course boss….take your time then” the guard moved back to his post, wanting to give his boss his space and not upset him in any way, shape, or form.

Snapping back to reality, Damion continued up the stairs and walked down the long halls to the last door. Extending out his hand slowly, he turned the door knob, the door slowly opening with a creak, his eyes scanning his room. Everything was left perfectly in place, not a crease nor dust in sight. His people kept his home very clean, just the way he liked it. 

Another sign escaped Damion’s lips as he closed the door behind him, setting his phone down on the table by the door, and walking over to the bathroom. As he entered, he caught a glimpse of the clothes that were on top of the bathroom counter. A small smile appeared across his lips as he saw the way Samuel had placed his attire, a clean cloth at the bottom, two clean towels in the middle, and on top were his clothes. “It’s good to be home” he said once again. Approaching the glass shower that laid before him, he opened the door, and turned on the hot water, making sure that it wasn’t boiling hot. 

As he waited for the water to heat up, he shut the glass door, and then stood in front of the mirror, checking his face, “Hmm, better shave before I get into the shower.” Opening up the drawer to his right, he grabbed his razor, and his shaving cream. After placing the razor on the counter, he held the can of shaving cream close to his face, making sure to spray enough cream on his cheeks. Setting the can down with ease, he rubbed the cream in gently, ensuring to cover the necessary areas on his face that had stubble. As soon as he finished lathering his face, he grabbed his razor and began to gently cut away at the stubble. It was hard enough having to shower with others, but it was harder not to have sharp objects to shave with. Sometimes he would go for days on end without shaving because they had confiscated his razor due to a stabbing or cutting, even if he didn’t cause it.  

In no time was he finished shaving, quickly turning on the faucet to clean his razor and then his face. Looking up after he washed his face, he saw his reflection, his eyes had dark circles underneath and his cheeks looked rough and calloused. Prison was hell, and made him look like hell too.

Adjusting himself, he put away his razor and shaving cream and turned off the faucet, beginning to strip himself of his clothing. As he stripped, his back and neck came into view. On the left side of his neck was a spider web tattoo with a black widow spider right smack in the middle. On his back laid an enormous dragon, a symbol of what he was and what he stood for. 

Once fully stripped, he opened the glass door to the shower, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Feeling the hot water drip down his body brought a pleasurable groan to his lips. It felt good to finally have a hot shower, and not luke warm water dripping onto your body while constantly being on high alert. “Fuck” he groaned as he pressed his head against the wall in front of him, allowing the water to drip down his back. 

{{0:52 music starts, reader is the only one that can hear the music > }}

>Ohara was in the prison as Damion was showering. Without Fox's knowledge, Ohara entered his cell unannounced and began to stab him violently. Sounds of screams could be heard echoing along the prison walls, two guards on the outside of the cell standing watch. {{Once the music ends}} Ohara soon stepped out of the cell, cleaning his hands with the cloth he had in his pocket, making sure to clean the knife as well. "Throw this piece of trash in the incinerator and I'll double your pay, for both of you" he gestured his head to Fox's dead body and then walked away like a ghost in the night.

A couple of hours went by as Damion finally dressed himself in his formal attire that consisted of well tailored pants, shirt, jacket, and his favorite gold watch he would always wear on his left wrist. Suddenly, a knock came upon his door, causing Damion to be startled a bit. “Who is it?”

“Ohara sir, may I enter?”

“Oh, of course” Damion called to him, adjusting his posture a bit to not seem like he was frightened over a simple knock to his door.

“Hello boss, sorry to interrupt, but the deed is done, and the Jade Bats are very pleased with your gift basket.”

Damion smirked happily at the great news coming from his second in command, “Wonderful Ohara, you do not know how happy I am right now.”

“I’m glad you are boss, I shall be retiring for the evening, if you need anything else, I am just a call away.”

“Wait…there is something that I need to ask of you…”.

Ohara, stopping in his place, turned around to face Damion, wondering what was this request?

“As I returned home with you, I noticed that someone wasn’t here.” “Someone that I have cherished for the longest time.”

Ohara’s heart dropped when he realized who he was going to ask for. “I don’t know what you mean sir?” “Are you referring to Nathan, he’s in the kitchen preparing your dinner?”

“No…..not Nathan…” he growled slightly at Ohara’s incompetence but tried to remain calm. “Where is y/n, my fiance?” 

“Oh shit…” Ohara mumbled underneath his breath as he tried to think of a way to tell Damion the bad news without upsetting him further. “Boss…uh….miss y/n….well….she….left a couple of years ago….she…told me to tell you-”

“Spit it out for god's sake man!” Damion couldn’t contain his anger as he snapped at his second in command. 

Ohara, jumping at the sudden yell from his boss, began to spill, “She told me to tell you to go fuck yourself…and that she wants nothing to do with you.” 

Damion, not believing a word that came out of his mouth, turned his hand into a fist, “She said that?” “My beloved that…I….I…” he was at a loss, not even being able to finish his words. 

“Boss, I’m sorry, I…I tried to reason with her….give her the money that you promised her while you were inside…but she refused.”

“Where is she now?” 

“She’s in TarryTown, in a mansion….tomorrow is her birthday and she is having a party at her house.”

“How the hell do you know this?” Damion questioned in curiosity. 

“Well sir, I haven’t stopped looking into her because you had ordered me on my life to look after her.”

“Fucking hell….I’m sorry Ohara…I did not mean to snap at you…I’m just….a bit taken back by my beloved having left me.” 

“It’s okay boss, I know you're frustrated after having spent four years behind bars and now you come home to find out that the one person that you have loved all your life has left you….trust me I understand.”

“Thank you” Damion sighed as he approached Ohara, placing his hand gently on his shoulder. “Her birthday is tomorrow you said, correct?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Alright then, do me a favor before you leave, go to the store and buy her the biggest teddy bear that you can find.” “I remember she always loved those cute little things.” “Make sure to get her a box of chocolates too, yeah…that sounds good for her.” 

“Sure, right away sir” Ohara bowed his head in respect and headed out of his room to do his newly assigned tasks.

After Ohara left, he glanced over at his nightstand, seeing a picture frame that was faced down. Finding it odd that he didn’t notice this before, he approached it, picking it up and went wide eyed at the picture that it contained. The picture was of him and you on the Barrow Beach. The sounds of the ocean washed against his ears, as well as the sounds of your laughter. It almost brought a tear to his eye. He had missed you so much, missed your touch, missed everything about you. It was sad to hear that you had left him, but he wasn’t going to give up. He was going to win you back, win your love back, and make sure that you don’t ever leave him again. 

[juiceortizprospect34]

# Ghosts We Carry: Chapter 10

The clubhouse parking lot was alive with activity when they arrived. Prospects moved bikes inside the garage, while full-patch members carried boxes of ammunition and supplies through the back entrance.

Clay spotted them immediately, descending the steps with Jax close behind.

"Where the hell have you been?" Clay demanded, his eyes darting to Elena in the passenger seat.

"Keeping her safe," Juice replied, stepping out of the truck. "Like you asked."

Clay's expression softened marginally. "Get inside. Church in five."

As Elena climbed out, Gemma appeared at the clubhouse door, arms crossed defensively until she spotted the younger woman. Her posture changed instantly, maternal instincts overriding suspicion.

"Come on, honey," she called to Elena. "Let's get you settled."

Juice watched Elena go, noticing how she straightened her spine, put on a brave face. Strong woman. Too strong to be caught in this mess.

Inside, the clubhouse had transformed into a fortress. Windows were boarded, weapons strategically placed, surveillance monitors showing every approach. The regular hang-arounds and sweet butts had been sent away. This was war footing.

Tig nodded to Juice as he passed, uncharacteristically solemn. "Shit's real now, brother."

Bobby was at the bar, loading shotguns with mechanical precision. "You bring your laptop?" he asked Juice.

"In my bag."

"Good. We need you on the cameras. And check if that traffic system hack still works. Might need quick exits."

The chapel doors stood open. Inside, the reaper table was covered not with its usual items—cigarettes, phones, occasionally drugs—but with maps, documents, and photographs. Surveillance photos of Zobelle. Of his associates. Of his daughter Polly.

"Juice," Chibs called from inside. "Get in here. Need your brain."

The Scotsman was hunched over some kind of schematic—the layout of a building, markers indicating entry points, security systems.

"Tell me you can disable these," he said, tapping a cluster of symbols in the corner of the page.

Juice studied them. "Looks like standard commercial alarm system. Yeah, I can kill it remotely if I get close enough."

"How close?"

"Fifty feet, maybe less."

Chibs nodded grimly. "Good enough."

A heavy hand landed on Juice's shoulder—Clay.

"Let's talk," the president said, steering him toward a quiet corner.

Clay's eyes were sharp, penetrating. "Thought I told you to go straight to her place and back. Where'd you take her?"

"Teller-Morrow. She needed clothes, some personal stuff."

"That all?"

Juice hesitated, weighing his options. The call from HaviCorp was still fresh in his mind. Someone was watching, had been watching. How much did Clay already know?

"Got a call," he admitted. "Burner phone."

Clay's grip tightened. "From?"

"Didn't say. But they knew things. About me, about the club."

"What kind of things?"

Juice swallowed. "Enough to be dangerous. They mentioned Zobelle."

Clay's expression darkened. "What else?"

"They offered me a job."

The president's eyes narrowed to slits. "A job."

"Said I had options. That I didn't have to go down with SAMCRO."

Juice expected rage, maybe even violence. Instead, Clay's face settled into something resembling amusement.

"And what did you tell this mystery caller?"

"Nothing. Call ended."

Clay nodded slowly, his hand finally releasing Juice's shoulder. "Smart boy." He patted Juice's cheek, a gesture somewhere between affection and warning. "Remember who your family is."

As Clay walked away, Juice felt the weight of invisible eyes on him. HaviCorp. Zobelle. Clay himself. Everyone watching, everyone waiting for him to make a move.

His phone vibrated in his pocket—a text from an unknown number.

*Time's running out. Your choice, Mr. Ortiz.*

Attached was a photo: Juice's apartment, door open, his few possessions visible inside. And hanging from his ceiling fan, a length of chain—the same kind he'd once used in a moment of despair, when the ghosts had almost won.

They weren't just watching. They were inside his life, inside his head.

Juice deleted the message, his decision made.

Time to create some ghosts of his own.

[anothersoulless]

Red Windows {Cloud Strife x Reader}

I've been gone for a long while working on like, 10 different drafts on and off while also managing life (it's stressful rn, ngl) but let's get to a different thing I wanted to do (so I have more stuff to work on :3)

Considering Spotify wrapped was released a bit ago, I will work on OneShots based on my wrapped, they're gonna be smaller though, since I'm trying to rekindle my passion for writing. Also, of course, I keep my right to skip any song, the only songs I 100% will do are song in my top 5, also song I already based a OneShot off do not get a second one unless i want to. Anyways, I know I ALREADY wrote something with this song, but I'm gonna be honest... I hate it. So let's change that! (this one is a lot better but I still don't like it, anywho)

First up:

The music in the club was loud, nearly deafening as you sat down near the bar, your drink right in front of you. The main lights were dimmed, wildly coloured spotlights roaming on an automated path through the room, some device near the ceiling creating a colour-changing star pattern on the floor. There was a dance floor at the farthest wall, even though most people just danced wherever they wanted to. The barkeeper was rushing around behind the bar, due to some misfortune, all alone this evening.

Taking another sip of your drink, you watched the crowd. It all seemed to blur together, like it was all distant, until you looked back at your drink, the liquid a light blue hue due to whatever juice the mocktail was mixed with. Some people were obviously singing along with the music, their voice drowned out by the bass running through you body, shaking the floor and glasses. Watching over the crowd, your eye got caught on multiple couples, some just looking great, some dancing in a ridiculous manner, others getting a tad bit too handsy. Adverting your gaze again, you downed your drink, ready to leave. It hadn't even been your idea to come here, and yet he was the one who was late.

You made your way to the barkeeper, sliding the money over you owed them, some additional dollars added, as you left. You bid the guard near the exit goodbye, wishing him a good day and leaving the estate, going up the stairs to ground level. Immediately, there was a big commotion, two people arguing about something. It was definitely the guy who checked everyone and gave them the bracelet, arguing with someone about their ID. You pulled out your phone, while walking up, already pulling up the chat with your date, writing only a meager "I'm leaving, thanks for the heads-up" and sending it. You pocketed your phone and looked towards the commotion, stopping dead in your tracks.

"Please, I swear I'm 18, how else would I have a Tattoo? I really just forgot my ID, doesn't my driver's license prove enough?!" But the Guard was unyielding, despite his logic being flawed, still denying the blonde entry. The blonde with the unique hairstyle and the striking outfit you had been looking out for all night. A blonde with a tattoo on his lower arm. It were too many similarities to be a coincidence, especially after he begged to just talk to his date waiting inside, since his phone died. You went up to him then, tapping him on the shoulder. "Cloud?" The blonde turned around, dressed in a loose, white button-up without a tie, a bit messy on his figure, yet still charming, paired with grey dress pants and black dress shoes.

He was confused, not immediately recognizing you, taking a few seconds to register. "I'm sorry, I swear I would have been here on time, but I was in such a rush I forgot my ID at home and-" you smiled, stopping him with a hand hold up "I heard, it's okay. Let's just do this another day" Cloud seemed a bit defeated, before he perked up. "Wait, uh- I... I know a place we could go, if.. if you still want to?" You blinked a few times, debating. "Sure, are you driving?" He nodded, leading you to his vehicle. You didn't know what you expected, maybe something like a car, definitely not a motorbike, though. With a bit of help from him, you got on, before he gave you a spare helmet and his riding jacket, which you happily accepted. You could tell he was a lot more careful when riding, a lot more tense. Maybe he didn't want to scare you? It was kind of cute really. And your hands felt warm thanks to his body heat, which made you wonder just how warm he was when he wasn't subjected to cold evening air. Shrugging that thought aside was probably a bad idea, considering you could just feel his muscles under the shirt, now the only thing your mind focused on. They weren't rock-hard, still a bit squishy and you hoped to god he hadn't noticed when your fingers dug into his flesh a bit, or, if he noticed, that he thought it was because of the motorcycle.

The Place you two ended up at looked nothing like the club he had chosen originally. It was a bit run down, made of wood and looked a bit messy with the string lights and the huge sign reading Seventh Heaven. Cloud let you get off the bike first, then parked it and turned to you with an apologetic look. "I know it's nothing like we planned and definitely not what you thought, if you want to leave-" you smiled and cut into his words. "It's okay, it doesn't matter where we eat or drink, we wanted to get to know each other, one as long as it's good i don't mind." He smiled. "It's the best, even if it looks a bit sketchy" You gave him back his Jacket and he packed away everything, before offering you his arm. You took his hand and he led the way, up the stairs and through the double doors. There was a woman behind the counter, gorgeous, and she already looked tough from a bit away. She looked up and surprise crossed her face. "Cloud?" She then looked at you, and before she even asked who you were she seemed to already know, instead asking what had happened for you two to end up here instead of the 'fancy' place that was the original plan.

The bar was empty, but it looked clean and lived in, loved even. Cloud didn't hesitate, striding to the counter and sitting down after you. He let you introduce each other, before he explained that she was a childhood friend who had already helped him many times in various situations. She was nice, saying she'd even give you two something to eat, as you and Cloud started your date. "So, childhood friends?" He nodded simply. "Yeah. Tifa and I have been... Through a lot of complicated-" he paused, for a minute. "It's not like we even dated, god no" he blushed at that thought. Embarrassed. "It's just a lot of complicated things we've experienced together." You smiled cheekily, sipping on the drink in front of you, shimmering just as blue as Cloud's eyes and resting you head on you hand, before you teased "So she's no one I should worry about?"

He sputtered, nearly choking on his drink, as he rushed to reassure you, while you simply chuckled. "Don't worry, I know how it is. It's good to have such a close friend, really." Your date smiled then, a small smile but it was there. "Yeah. I don't have many friends, admittedly. You don't really make a lot of friends when you have my last and my job and... Well, I've been alone a lot. Tifa was there when I needed her and I got some real good friends afterwards as well. They're good friends, all of them"

Cloud was always very vague about his job and past, but you didn't mind. It was not your place to pry. Not yet, anyways. Maybe someday... You looked at his glass, the drink a ruby red, so clear and vibrant it nearly looked like it was a crystal itself. "So, I know people always wonder, so, did you already have a girlfriend?" He pondered. "I wouldn't call her that. She was a very close friend but it was never more, even if the lines blurred sometimes." There was another faint blush. God, you just loved the way his cheek turned a light pink. "We're still close friends. You'll probably meet her some day."

You chuckled then, "Some day, huh? Looking to repeat today even before it got really started?" His cheeks turned even brighter, and he stammered a bit, definitely flustered beyond compare now. "It's not- I- I didn't mean that, it just slipped out." You laughed, and patted him on the arm. "Think about what you say better, next time" Next time. Some day. A promise of another meeting. Even if he failed to meet you on time. Even if it wasn't the best date ever or ideal or anything like it, you got to know him well. Probably even better than you would originally have, and there was just something about him. Those really bright blue eyes and the blonde hair and the soft, light paper skin had caught your attention. Paired with his tougher build, you didn't know what to expect, but he was a perfect mix of both.

"I have dated a few before. The best relationship I had was probably with a girl from a different neighbourhood, a poor one. My parents didn't approve, but she was the sweetest girl ever." You explained. "We broke it off because we realised we didn't click like that, and we stayed friends as well." His eyes rested on you, studying you. You looked back at him and smiled sweetly. "You know, every time I look at you, I have one thought in mind: pretty. How can you actually be so beautiful?" He blushed at your words, scrambling for words yet again and looking away. "It's weird how you can't handle compliments. Surely, you must have gotten these a few times, no?" He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I just... Never cared about the person saying it." "Awe, so you care about me already? It's our first date, and you're already falling for me."

In a flurry of braveness, he looked you dead in the eyes, "what if I am?" Dear Lord, you nearly felt your soul leave your body, this man had really no idea what he was doing, nearly killing you like that. You stayed silent, air whipped out of your lungs and thoughts racing through your brain, too fast to grasp. And then a whisper: "That wouldn't be a bad thing" Both of you blushed, and the evening went on. A small homely meal later, a few drinks in your system, your arm religiously brushed against his, your shoe bumping against his chair more often than before, sitting closer together now as well. You laughed and you ate and you drank. Then he had to stop, still wanting to be able to drive home. You decided to call it a night, a sense of uncertainty washing over you two.

You didn't want to push it. It had been a really fun night. He fumbled nearly every step along the way, but still managed to make it even better than expected. When you went to the bathroom, you took a pen and a piece of a bill that you left in your pocket and scribbled down your number on it, folding it. Considering he hadn't asked for your number and simply did everything via the app you two met over, you figured maybe this would push him in the right direction without pushing too far.

You returned to the counter, tapping Cloud on the shoulder. "We should probably call it a night. I have to work tomorrow, and you can't drink anymore because you need to drive, so I'd say this is a fairly good place to stop." He looked at you, from his sitting position, for a second, before he stood up. "Yeah, you're probably right. Do you want me to drive you home, or is that too soon?" You shook your head. "A little bit too soon, Cloud." You bid your goodbye to Tifa before returning to Clouds bike. "Don't worry about me getting home. I'll have a friend pick me up in a few minutes. On another note... I really had fun tonight. Somehow, even when it first looked like you had just ditched me, you made it... Probably my best date ever. Thank you for that. You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and handed him the paper.

"Call me if you want it throw it away if you don't. I hope I'll see you again?" He smiled again then, leaning down a bit. Your faces were so goddamn close, mouths nearly touching. "You definitely will" and then he kissed your forehead and smiled as he drove off. You look back at the bar. Tifa standing in the double doors and shaking her head, smiling. He still had to work on some of his etiquette, but he was doing really well. And you? You simply smiled, a giddy feeling in your chest, while the corners of your mouth refused to lower even an inch.

[gorgon-goddess-of-chaos]

The Hunter

Fan favorite horror boy. Love my fucked up son.

The Hunter, Jamie Young | Words: 1307

Warnings: panic attack, implied assault, body horror, knife

Jamie arrives at class barely on time, scrambling to her seat and setting up. She keeps her book close to her chest, opening the notes app on her phone since she didn’t have time to grab her bag with her notebooks in it. The lecture is barely holding her attention, so she gets an idea. She opens her camera, sets it to record the front of the lecture hall, and cracks open her book to read another entry or two. She rereads the ones from before, just to remind her of the context, and she feels something deep inside her stir. 

She looks up, seeing a golden eye staring at her. Panic sets in as she’s never really dealt with hallucinations this vivid before, at least not in public. The large eye circles her, making her extremely uncomfortable and chills go down her spine.

“I know you can see me, young one. I have many things to offer you, any power given to me by the cosmos, at your disposal.”

Jamie just looks up at it with a shake of her head, trying to hide her face in her book. The eye moves, frustrated at being ignored.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with, foolish girl. It is impolite to ignore a god before you.”

She continues to hide her face in her book, not wanting to respond to it as to draw extra attention to herself. A man steps into the hall, drawing everyone’s attention to the door. The eye hisses, moving to circle around him instead. Jamie is horrified as blood drips down his face from bandages around his eyes, unsure of whether what she’s seeing is real or not. She slowly gets up, pausing the recording and exiting quickly to the back door, escaping without a second thought. Her legs carry her until she’s in a quiet corner of an empty classroom, letting her panic bubble to the surface. 

The book is clutched to her chest as her breathing turns to hyperventilating, hot tears falling down her cheeks and heart pounding against her ribcage. Voices are drowned out by a ringing in her ears, the only thing present to her is the feeling of the cold floor beneath her. Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to calm herself down, focusing on the sensations around her in an attempt at grounding. Her phone shows just a few more minutes until she can go home, so she opens the book to see if the narrative distracts her from the world around her. 

“The Hunter takes the form of a serial killer, with moving void-like tattoos on his upper body, heavy scarring, inhuman muscular build, and a large mouth spanning his abdomen. He picks his targets through a method of seeing wrong-doings, offended by anyone "more diabolical" than he is. Once a target is chosen, he will always stay just out of sight, but the target will stay in his. His methods of killing range from supernatural to mechanical, with a preference for using his hands, a knife, and a sniper rifle. He can project his thoughts into the target's mind, move at inhuman speeds to catch up, and appear in new places if barred from reaching his target. It is believed by making the target feel watched constantly, that he exhausts them to the point of exploiting their weakness. He kills them finally by ripping out their heart, feeding it to the mouth on his abdomen, and draining their life force. He enjoys watching the light drain from their eyes, before abandoning the rest of their body.

Do not try to confront or fight back against The Hunter, as he will use his inhuman abilities to further debilitate his victims and prolong their suffering. He is sadistic and finds enjoyment in what he does, particularly in inflicting pain upon his victims. He cannot be reasoned with, although it is theorized that he can be bribed into briefly leaving his target alone if a bigger target is presented. The Hunter is an endurance ambush predator, and has no problem waiting as long as he wants before ending his target's life.”

As she finishes the last sentence, the door to the classroom opens and she freezes, slowly closing the book. Looking up, she’s relieved to see what she assumes to be a campus security guard, dressed in traditional black tactical gear she’s seen the others wear.

“Hey, you doing okay in here? I overheard someone ran out of one of the nearby lecture halls in a hurry after some guy entered in there. Wanted to make sure that he wasn’t a danger to you.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I thought I was seeing things, and I panicked. He had some… eye floating around him, and with the blood I thought that he wasn’t actually there. It happens sometimes…”

At the mention of the eye his face changes, but it’s difficult to make out exactly what with the red tinted sunglasses obscuring half his face.

“Well security picked him up, so he’s not at risk to you. Need help up? I can take your book for you.”

“No, I got it.”

Jamie stands up as the bell rings, leading her to breathe a sign of relief. The security guard goes to put a hand on her shoulder, but puts his hand by his side instead, opening the door.

“Just let us know if he comes back and starts bothering you again, have a great day.”

“Thank you, you too.”

…

He was so close to getting the book from her, but some stupid barrier is around her. Hunter stalks behind her, disappearing from her view to watch where she goes. A pang goes off in the back of his mind, making him turn around with a growl. Beneath the vest his second mouth gnashes its teeth, starving after being trapped in that book for so long. He follows his instincts, coming across an older teacher blocking the way for a female student to exit the classroom.

“Is there a problem here?”

The professor spins around, and the female student looks almost relieved at the sight of him. Blackened energy seeps off the older man, tempting him like smoke to a flame. 

“Nothing is wrong at all! Just helping her with some things after class like she requested.”

Hunter looks to the girl, fear radiates off of her, he’s almost tempted to keep this up just to passively feed. But this hunt will be far more sweet if he lets her go. 

“That’s not what it looks like to me. Sweetheart, why don’t you head out, I’m going to have a word with him.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, she’s ducking out under his arm in a hurry and running away. He shoves the man into the classroom, closing the door behind them.

“So you think it’s okay to prey on the students, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I saw how afraid she was of you, this isn’t the first time you’ve tried this. Isn’t it?”

“I am going to have you fired from this establishment! Taking advantage of an old man!”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m the one taking advantage of anyone here…”

Hunter flicks open his knife, discarding his vest and tears off the bottom half of his shirt, revealing his second mouth underneath.

“And I don’t work here.”

The professor shoves past him, running out the door for his life. Hunter simply walks calmly behind him, speaking into the man’s mind.

“You can run all you want, but I will find you. You cannot escape me, I will always know where you are.”

He grins, feeling the man’s fear wash over him like an energizing wave, moving to be right behind him, keeping up the chase.

“Run, rabbit, run.”

[adachimoe]

Persona 5 IRL Stuff

Requested

The entry and exit to each floor of Mementos is based on the appearance of train stations, and the stamps you collect for Jose are seemingly the game's version of train stamps lol.

I'm not sure if this is still true, but train stamps were introduced to me as something that smaller kids will collect when they travel with their families, so it makes sense to me that the NPC associated with them is also a kid. As an adult tourist, I've never bothered with train stamps cause you really have to go out of your way to find some of them and when I'm at a train station my ass is trying to go somewhere lol. I suppose that even in real life, some of those stamp locations must feel like they're random spawns.

I have absolutely bothered with red shrine seals, though. Maybe Persona 6 will have the protagonist collecting those.

Ryuji takes you to a ramen restaurant in Ogikubo. Based on it being in Ogikubo and the appearance of the restaurant in-game, it's modeled after Marufuku Chinese Noodles near Ogikubo Station. The sign in-game just says "Chinese Noodles" without the store name. I'm not sure if this is a famous restaurant or maybe it's just one that Atlus employees like to eat at lol.

Ryuji also takes you to a monjayaki restaurant in Tsukishima during his Confidant. You go to Tsukishima specifically because Tsukishima has a line of restaurants called Monja Street that specializes in, you guessed it, monjayaki.

Akechi introduces you to a jazz bar in Kichijoji called Jazz Jin. The outside appearance seems to be based on Some Time which is also located in Kichijoji. Only the outside resembles what's in-game, though. The inside is different.

Yongenjaya isn't a real place in Tokyo, but it seems to be a renamed version of Sangenjaya - san means 3, yon means 4. I've not been to Sangenjaya, though I've heard that details like the laundromat, even down to the vending machine, looks nearly the same as it does in-game. (If you are interested in doing Persona 5 tourism around Tokyo, I've heard that the Sangenjaya locals do not appreciate Persona 5 tourism or related loitering in this area.)

Shibuya Station is pretty much accurate with how it is IRL. The green train car that you visit Tora at has been moved since the game came out, but the dog statue of Hachiko (or Buchiko as its known in game) is there, the 1000 stairs you climb to get to the Ginza Line, etc, is also all accurate.

When you touch base with Ohya, you unlock Shinjuku. The movie theater in-game is called Cult 9, which is based on an actual movie theater in Shinjuku called Wald 9. The other areas in Shinjuku seem to be a condensed version of Kabukicho (or Kamurocho, if you've played Like a Dragon).

Futaba wants to go shopping in Akihabara and Nakano. Akihabara you've probably already heard about as Nerd Haven. She also talks about visiting Nakano, likely to go shopping at Nakano Broadway which is home to a bunch of Mandarake 2nd hand anime/etc goods stores.

The "huge pancake" that Morgana was talking about is how Tokyo Dome looks from the outside. The pancakes he's comparing it to are the thicc souffle-style fluffy jiggly pancakes that you can get at various restaurants. (Also probably what Akechi thinks of when he hears delicious pancakes lol.)

The other areas and things, I'm really not sure there's much to say about them.

Ann takes you to Harajuku cause she wanted to eat sweets (this is really relatable btw)

Meiji jingu is also real and located near Harajuku

The buffet Ann takes the guys to is the Marble Lounge, but I believe it's since been remodeled

There's multiple museums in Ueno

There's a Catholic church in west Kanda but afaik the inside looks different than in-game

Inokashira Park is real and has swan boats and stuff

Ikebukuro's planetarium is in Sunshine City Mall

Chinatown is real but it's much further than the map makes you think (it's in Yokohama)

Odaiba Seaside Park is another real location

Miura Beach is also real, way down south past Yokohama

Jimbocho is indeed where you'd go to buy books

etc etc etc