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#have another spooky bitch
not-the-cheese · 1 year
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one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2
(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys
the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise
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61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.
62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.
63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.
64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider
65. mmm crumchy
66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video
67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast
68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!
69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.
70. reverse death note
71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway
72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten
73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus
74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee
75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"
76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences
77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom
78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him
79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors
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80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner
81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar
82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you
83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display
84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(
85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?
86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.
87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.
88. guys i think this guy likes to dig
89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!
90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)
91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars
92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay
93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz
94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor
95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.
96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?
97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole
98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶
99. another one bites the dust
100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)
101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory
102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG
103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.
104. pennywise stole my brother's skin
105. it's world war z baby
106. Something Big Is In Space.
107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there
108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.
109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires
110. yeah man those spiders be eating
Part 1 |
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latenightdaydreams · 19 days
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Triggered!König x Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
This was inspired by a Tiktok I saw from the creator CrëëpyKönig (Spooky Vexx)! So if you enjoy please go show them love and please remember to be kind and respectful 🩷 Link attached!
Master List✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, bullying, stalking, obsessive König, non-con, p in v, biting, anal, humiliation, recording
1.6k word count
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On KorTac’s base, König is known as a bully. He is a massive, arrogant, and aggressive man who always seems to enjoy stepping on those beneath him. When you joined a much smaller woman, you quickly found that you weren’t spared from this treatment. 
A year into being a part of KorTac and things with König have only escalated. No one is brave enough to stand up to him, so you’re left to fend for yourself. He uses his height to his advantage as well as setting you off by being incredibly sexist. In his eyes, you’re the easiest target on base. 
Underneath your calm exterior, a rage was forming. Yes, you’re small, but you know your own strength. Respect is the only reason you haven’t gone completely crazy on your colonel. Everyone knows he deserves it. 
It’s been raining hard these last few weeks, leaving the outdoors training field to turn into a muddy mess. That doesn’t stop the military, though. König has his men, and you, outside running drills back and forth through the slick terrain. Everyone is slipping, unable to gain proper footing; yet it’s when you fall that you hear König’s harsh accent boom throughout the open space. 
“Pathetic little girl!” König barks. “Get up!” 
As you scramble to your feet, you feel his hands violently lift you before setting you on your feet. You can feel your hands trembling, but not with fear; it’s that rage. König looms over you, yelling down at you as everyone around you stops to watch the vicious verbal assault with looks of sympathy on their faces. 
Time seems to slow as you lift your dominant hand into a fist, pulling back and punching König with everything you’d got. His head actually snaps back, causing a loud gasp to echo out amongst the team. Your eyes widen once you realize what you’ve done, you just assaulted your colonel. 
König feels a sharp pain, followed by the taste of blood beginning to fill his mouth. This little bitch. His eyes snap down to yours with a look of shock. 
First, it was one laugh, followed by a roaring laughter that spread between everyone. The smallest tear slips from König’s eye as they widen, glaring down at you. He looks around quickly, trying to fight back the waterfall of tears threatening to be released. It’s as if he’s eleven again and his entire class is mocking him. For a moment, he isn’t the 6’10 280lb colonel; he’s that chubby 5’9 child that didn’t fit in. 
Slowly, his look of shock turns into a wild look of horror. Without another word to you, König leaves. He hurries to his barracks, leaving you alone with an odd feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. A few people come up to you simply to thank you for doing what they’ve been too scared to do. Others make sure that you’re okay. 
The events of the day came and went. It was talked about for a while, but you were never reprimanded so no one ever reported you. König has backed off of you, leaving you to believe he simply realizes that you’re not the one to mess with. If only you knew how wrong you were. 
Then you begin to notice König almost everywhere you are. He’s never obvious, hiding within the cover or crowds and dark corners of the halls. Almost as if he has become your own personal boogeyman. At the same time, it’s base and your schedules line up, so maybe you’re just being paranoid. Simply noticing him where you never did before because of the deep-rooted fear that he might retaliate one day. 
Your first thought is the correct one though. König is everywhere you are, watching every move you make, attempting to familiarize himself with every little aspect of your day to day. Ever since you humiliated him, he’s grown obsessed with you. Not even a fully grown man has ever had the balls to do what you did to him. That day he cried like he hadn’t in a very long time, not since his mother passed. 
The desire to own you, forever, consumes his every waking thought. His mind continues to replay the look in your eyes when you hit him, the sounds of laughter, and the taste of blood. He’s obsessed with the idea of getting back at you, making you feel the humiliation and torment he felt in that moment. 
König was missing from training today, not that you mind, it was just odd. His job is his life and you’ve never known him to have missed a day. Either way, you felt as if you were finally able to relax and focus on excelling at the tasks at hand. 
That very night as you walk back to your room, a recruit you don’t recognize walks up to you with a note in their hand. He holds it out to you, looking into your eyes with a blank expression. You reach out and open it to read that you’re wanting to finish signing paperwork. Confused, you look up, ready to ask a question; but the recruit has left in a hurry.
You look down at your watch to see how late it is, wondering if the people in the offices are even still there at this hour. With a deep sigh you turn and head across base. The sun is setting, the sky a beautiful pale blue color setting a calm tone over the moment. 
Upon entering the building, you notice that the halls are empty. Some lights are still on, so you just continue on to the room that was scribbled down. You knock. No answer. You know again and wait before trying the handle. You walk in to see a blinking red light in the darkness. Confused, you linger for a second; long enough for König to reach out, grabbing your neck, and pulling you inside. 
You get slammed on to the wall as the door closes leaving you in complete darkness. Short shaky breaths flee your lips as you try to not scream; you know it’s König. A million things are running through your mind as you gaze up in his direction. 
“What do you want?” You ask, trying to be bold, but your voice cracks.
“You.” König whispers, dragging your body forward and slamming you down on a desk. 
Your head hits the cold wood hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears. In a panic you begin to push up against the desk, but it’s no use since König is nearly twice your size. Finally, you realize the blinking light to a camera recording; what is he about to do? 
König lets go of your neck and moves his hands all over your body, tracing every curve and contour of your much smaller frame. He completely towers over you, consuming you. Having you underneath his fingers, completely defenseless and vulnerable. 
“I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!” You cry out as he begins to strip you of your clothing. His sharp canines dig into your back as he slides your shirt up, pulling a loud scream from you. No one heard you, you're completely alone with this monster. 
“You’ve been an arrogant, disrespectful, little slut!” König shouts as he spanks your ass harshly. 
He undresses behind you, pulling his pants down to be around his knees. His eyes flick over to the camera to make sure it’s still recording before looking back down at you. Your outline is visible to him as his eyes have adjusted to the dark. He laces his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back to bite your neck. Again, you let out a loud cry making König feel a rush of excitement. The more pain you feel, the more pleasure he feels. He lets go and you fall back on the desk. 
“Keep screaming for us, Hase.” He mocks. 
Us? 
Your thoughts are redirected as you feel his cock slip along your dry folds. You beg him to not do this as your hips squirm back and forth to attempt to get him away. The searing pain of his cock pushing into you causes your body to tense up. 
As you lift your abdomen from the desk König slams you back down. His hand remains on your back to hold you there as his hips pull back and slam into you. A soft moan leaves his lips as a pained whimper leaves your own. 
“This…” König speaks with a voice laced with lust. “…is what women are made for. To be whores. To be fucked.” He growls as his hips begin to buck forward into you faster.  
In infrared, the camera records König’s thick veiny cock slamming in and out of your tight little cunt. The pained look on your face and sad little whimpers coming through perfectly. On the other side of the camera men sit with their cocks in their hands, masturbating to your torment. 
“Say you’re a worthless whore.” König demands as he closes his eyes and leans his head back to immerse himself into the pleasure of you. 
You say nothing, only angering König more. He pulls out of you, spitting on to his hand to rub on the head of his cock before moving back to you. The tip pushes against your asshole. 
“Say it.” He growls once more. 
“I- I’m a worthless whore.” You say with a weak voice. 
“Ah, good girl.” König whispers as he presses his cock painfully into your ass. 
Your humiliation pleases König. Now you feel how he felt when you hit him. How he felt when the squad laughed at him. Now you have thousands of people getting pleasure from watching you getting violated; your small body destroyed in König’s hands.
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holmsister · 3 months
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ENDING SPOILERS HERE IN THIS BITCH
Like from the POV of a labru understander. Even dungeon lord!Laios from that lil extra isn't really that different from canon!Laios. Evil spooky winged lion!Laios is the only version of Laios that could give Kabru the weird and fucked up 5d chess game of lies and seduction Kabru has been prepping for all of his life. He's the version of Laios Kabru imagined in his head when he came up with scenarios in which he would have to get close to him only to betray him For The Good Of Humanity. It might not be what Kabru needs or even really what he wants deep down, but it's what he expects. What he thinks he deserves, maybe, even.
A monster for a monster. Yet another thing he wants that he has to deny himself. Yet another wrong he has to committ to do the right thing in the big picture.
Meanwhile the real Laios is in the cuck chair like 😭😭😭😭😭 NOOO KABRU DONT FALL FOR HIS DARK SEDUCTIon oh. Oh. I didn't know you swung that way. Wait do i - OH I DEFINITELY SWING THAT WAY. That explains a lot. WAIT STOP TOUCHING HIM 😭😭😭😭
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natailiatulls07 · 11 months
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Haunted house
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Oscar Piastri x female!reader
Summary - McLaren are doing a haunted house halloween video and Oscar manages to rope in his girlfriend
Warning - Blood (fake), swearing, chainsaw (fake), clowns, spiders and a mention of the exorcist??
A/n - Another first timer today!! I love Oscar!! 🤍
23 Halloween season
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When Oscar told me that McLaren were doing a Halloween challenge video for their YouTube channel and had offered Oscar to rope me in, I was excited. Growing up I Ioved Halloween; dressing up, getting free sweets and watching spooky movies, they were just so exciting to me.
Naturally I grew up but yet I still held that love for the holiday. So that’s why I agree and now I’m in the passenger seat of Oscars car on our way to the secret location.
Every so often he was gently rub his thumb across my thigh, we were have a light conversation between ourselves.
Eventually, Oscar pulled in a car park when the McLaren social media team and Lando were stood around just talking and most likely waiting for our arrival. “Ah the couple has arrived!” The Brit was the first to notice us and announce our arrival.
Getting out the car, I was grateful that I decided to wear a large cream wool sweater because the weather felt nippy. “Hey dude!” Oscar and Lando greeted each other with a quick fist bump. It was soon followed by a quick side hug between me and Lando.
-
The McLaren pr manager was quick to fill us in with the details of the video; we all would be going into the haunted house, go through the different sections and then come back out at the end. Simple as that.
At this point though, thats when my nerves kicked in. I started to get anxious but I didn't want to show that emotion, knowing that if I did Oscar would make me not do it.
The team started to film, before Lando and Oscar explaining the video to the viewers. "Hey guys! So today me, Lando and Y/n are going to do this super fun haunted house!" There's sarcasm in his voice when he says 'super fun', which makes both me and Lando laugh together.
Lando manages to compost himself. "There will be multiple different sections to the house, however we don't know what the sections are and what they're like" I look over to the entrance of the house and cringe. "So let's go!"
We all start to walk towards the entrance with the camera man behind us. "Ladies first..." As if insync, Lando and Oscar move to allow me to walk in first which I quickly say thank you to and walk inside despite my nerves.
Once inside, it's pitch black. I can hear distant noises which I cannot describe, foreign noises. A hand goes to grasp mine and I jump at the sudden contact. "It's me, sweetheart" Oscars australian accent comes from behind me in the darkness.
"Oh god...we're two steps in and Oscars already being all lovey dovey" The Brit from what sounds like behind Oscar complains.
"You're such a child!" Oscar moans as to which laugh along with him.
After walking about five steps through the darkness, we come to another door. Making our way through the door, I'm greeted with walls decorated in thousands of tiny orange, blue and green glow in the dark dotes. "Oh this is cute!" I comment but immediately regret my words when a glow in the dark clown starts jumping out on us.
"AH FUCK!" Lando shouts, even though he is the furthest back out of the three of us. The bright clown laughs hideously and starts making his way towards me.
I'm suddenly pull back by my hand, the hand that Oscar has ahold of. Colliding with his chest I feel him quickly moving us past the clown onto the next section.
Just as we made it past the clown, the two of us hear Lando again. "You ain't scary bitch!" There's a pause. "AH Wait fuck, maybe you are!"
Oscar leans his head down, so that his mouth is next to my ear. "Are you okay?" He whispers, and in that moment I feel alone and disconnected from the world with him.
Nodding my head. "Yeah, it was cute and then that fucker came. But yeah I'm okay" I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before looking around at the next section.
There's a bloody operation table, laid on top is a little girl dressed in a long white gown. Her hair long, black and extremely tangled. Around us, looks like an old operating room yet the walls, much like the table, is covered in crimson blood.
You know instantly when Lando has entered because of his uncontrolable reaction. "EW! WTF" I find myself laughing at his childish reaction to the section, Oscar laughs along with me.
Lights start flashing and we all turn to the girl on the table. Noticing how she is now slowly moving up into a sitting up position. "Oh and she lives, just fucking brilliant!" McLarens British driver comments sarcastically.
Once she sits up, her waist turns so she is now facing us. "Help me! Help! He's going to kill me!" Just as she finishes her sentance, we all hear the whirring of a chainsaw behind us as to which we all turn. Coming face to face with a tall and broad man, in his hands there's a chainsaw and much like the rest of the room covered in blood.
He jumps forward, more so my way, causing me to scream out in fright. "I need another body...yours will do" He smiles disturbingly.
“Yeah fuck this, no way are you coming after my girl sir!” This took both me and Lando by surprise as Oscar was never one to react this much openly. He quickly moves us out of the room, Lando still behind us when he says “Yeah that’s right bitch! Back off!” Followed by his high pitch laugh and a high pitch scream, also from Lando.
-
We all collectively make our way through the rest of the haunted house, coming across a spider themed room and a exorcist themed room. As usual, Lando is making little comments and screams the whole way through.
Admittedly on some of the room, either me or Oscar join in Landos terrified comments.
I push through the long bunting across the door way, we come out of the haunted house. A camera team is set up awaiting our post haunted house reactions.
“That was fun!” I comment which earns me a dirty look from Lando, and a laugh from Oscar who has his arms wrapped around my waist.
Both Oscar and Lando are quick to make a outro, wrapping up the video. After talking with the media team and Lando, me and Oscar get back into his car making our way home.
“Thank you for inviting me today baby” I say, looking over at Oscar who is focusing on the road.
“It’s alright, plus I needed someone to put up with Lando so thank you!” Pulling up to a red light, Oscar takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently.
-
Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644
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marleyybluu · 1 year
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Boy, Bye
Spooky x black!fem!reader
Words: 3k
Warnings: 18+, smut central (with plot), flirting, mentions of drinking and drug use (relax it's just weed), smoking and driving (but don't be this stupid), Spooky being a nervous boy at the end, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap that bitch up we don't need any more crotch goblins jk), creampie because I'm a sick bitch, Spanish nicknames as usual, probably misspelling bcus I was high as shit writing this. lmk if i missed anything
A/N: This was inspired by Boy, Bye by Ari Lennox, her album age/sex/location is a banger I have rediscovered it and the idea hit me like a brick. I do wanna say I don't mention the readers skin tone or anything but she is a black woman bcus i mentioned a fresh set of braids. and black women should be the only ones wearing box braids, wigs, etc... in case yall forgot :)
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The distinct chatter of club patrons droned out of your ears as a persistent ringing replaced it. You sat at the bar, your back turned to counter and your elbows planted firmly on the surface. Just minding your business. Drinking your rum and coke.
"You look sweet like mangoes." A very hot and unwarranted breath invaded your space and it was a reminder as to why you didn't want to come out in the first place. Men were gross, they ruined everything with catcalls and what they think are sweet pickup lines. You turned your head to look at him, he flashed a drunken smile— his teeth crooked and filled with whatever he'd eaten before he got here. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the crowd.
He wasn't the first to approach you tonight, especially since you dispersed from your group to sit at the bar, your feet killing you from the stupid but cute heels you wore. "Sweet like mangoes huh?" You reiterated. He nodded leaning in closer as you leaned away. "Yeah. I know."
The man chuckled at your lack of a 'thank you.'
"Now why are you acting like that? Hm? A man can't get to know you?"
You wrapped your lips around your straw and sipped obnoxiously but he wasn't budging. "A man whose leftovers aren't in his teeth can get to know me." You bit. The man leaned back in disbelief, your comment seemingly sobering him up. "Well, fuck you then bitch."
You raised your glass. "You wish you could." That added fuel to the fire and he stormed off like a pissed off toddler. You smiled taking the last sip of your drink, turning around to place it on the bar, you needed a bit of time before you ordered another, might be the last before you go home. You hopped off the stool and grabbed your purse heading to the restroom, surprisingly there was no line but a few girls were hogging the vanity reapplying whatever makeup had come off. You shuffled inside the small stall and propped your purse on the hook of the door.
Once you were done handling business the women had disappeared and you had the sink to yourself, you washed your hands and dried them off with the paper towels provided, and you checked yourself out flipping your fresh braids to the side finding that was cuter than just having a middle part. When you were satisfied you headed back out putting a little pop in your hips. On your way back to your spot you noticed a man, a young man maybe about your age, sitting in on the seat next to yours. You shrugged and headed over anyway hopping back up without saying a word.
You pulled out your phone and noticed a notification from the group chat, one of the girls asking if you were okay and where were you. As you typed you remained oblivious to the stranger next to you, unaware of the little glances that he took at you. He tipped his head back as he drank from his Corona, you sighed putting your phone down. "You're good?" He asked, genuinely, to your surprise. You looked over at him and nodded. Your eyes analyzed whatever you could see in the shitty and low lighting. The first thing you noticed was the shaved head, not really your thing but it was cute on him, his bushy eyebrows raised in interest watching you examine him. He sported a small moustache and a goatee, the sides were clean-shaven, his slim and aquiline nose complimented him as well and with a nose like that, you wondered how the rides were on that face.
"Can I get you a drink?" He asked breaking the silence, you'd accept it, telling him thanks and allowing him to wave over the bartender. You remembered seeing a whiskey sour on the little drink menu and ordering that while he ordered another Corona. He smiled at you, his cheeks so high it made his eyes squint, and you tugged at your bottom lip. "Don't worry I don't have any corny ass pickup lines like the rest of these putos." He reassured. You playfully dismissed him. "Eh, they aren't so bad." Lies.
He turned himself in the stool, his whole body facing you-- one leg on the footrest of the seat and the other on the floor. Your eyes involuntarily dropped down to his lap and quickly back up to his eyes. "Yeah? So, how come you pushed 'em all away?"
He'd been watching you?
"'Cause none of them bought me a drink." You flirted. "Oooh, so that's why I haven't gotten dissed yet?"
You shrugged. "Maybe."
"I can respect that."
Your drinks arrived and you thanked the bartender. He raised his bottle. "Salud."
"Salud." You copied. You took a sip and shook your head, damn that really is sour. He snorted at the way your face contorted. "Don't like it?"
"Didn't expect it to be that sour."
"I could get you a different drink."
You passed. "It's okay, I can handle it. Plus I wouldn't want one of your little girlfriends seeing you buy me more than one drink."
He rolled his eyes bringing his drink to his lip, "No girlfriends over here."
"Surprised."
"Why?"
You set your whiskey sour down and boldly stated, "You're way too fine to be alone." He turned his head away from you, a warm feeling spreading across his face but he couldn't let you see it. "Thanks, mamita." He responded turning back to your direction. "You sure your man won't fight me for buying you one? 'Cause I can put up a good fight cariño."
You tilted your head to the side, smitten. "No boyfriend's over here."
"Good to know."
— — Your once drastic and boring night was starting to look upward. Spooky, you found out to be his name, was good conversation. Yeah, he threw a corny line here and there but you actually liked them coming from him, he wasn't trying too hard he was just being playful.
Your eyes landed on the imprint on his neck, a crucifix tilted on its side with the name Santos etched down the middle. "Los Santos... hm are you?"
"Am I what?"
You leaned into him your hand finding its way to the side of his neck and gently dragging your nails on his inked skin. "A saint."
His eyes focused more on your lips. "More of a sinner." He mumbled. You giggled tipsily. "Boy, bye."
The DJ had announced it was the last song of the night, you looked at your phone reading 3 AM, your plans to leave early had been disrupted in the best way. Spooky noticed your attention detour. "Ready to go home?"
You sighed now not wanting the night to end. "Guess so."
"I could drop you home."
Your eyes sharpened, you didn't know him... but, fuck, you liked him enough to almost agree to it. "I don't know if I want a sinner dropping me home."
He put his hand over yours, the contact sparked a warm feeling in your lower belly. He guided your palm to his chest. "I'll be a saint,cielito, don't worry."
You laughed wholeheartedly. "That was so fucking lame."
"Made you laugh though."
It did.
You agreed to take the ride and while he paid for the drinks you texted the group:
Y/n: got a ride home ;) I'll talk to you bitches tomorrow.
They gassed you up for any potential activity tonight and hoped that you'd get home safely. Spooky got off first and held his hand out to help you down, he didn't let go as he led you through the crowd, he met up with the boys you assumed he came with and dapped them up with his free hand, his other one never letting go of yours.
Soon, you two were out the door, you lowkey stumbled through the parking lot, alcohol and heels were never a good combo. He helped you though. And you two arrived in front a Red Impala, your mouth twitched with fascination. "Nice car." You blurted out. "Thanks ma, worked on it myself."
"Damn, he's cute and a mechanic? You sure no one is crazy over you?"
He opened the door for you. "No, just you."
"I'm not crazy, yet." You pointed before sliding inside. He closed your door and headed over to his side. Your body was full of tingles, the feeling reaching your toes but you didn't know if it was the buzz from your drink or if it was him. Either way, you were enjoying this.
Spooky pulled off. You sighed and smiled lazily throwing your head back, you were floating— your body felt like it was flying through space. "You smoke?" He asked, you heard a lighter flicker and you shook your head. "I do, but I can't take anything else right now."
He shrugged and inhaled the THC, he reached for the dial on his stereo and turned up the volume, the music he was playing earlier resuming its beat. Sierra Leone by Frank Ocean serenaded your ears. "I love this song."
You hummed along to the slow tune. Spooky caught you in the corner of his eye, he smiled. He enjoyed the show and the company until he pulled up to your neighbourhood and into your driveway. You groaned, did he really have to go?
You notice him turn the car off. "You're not coming inside you know."
He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm just taking you to the door at least."
You slightly frowned, he left you for a few seconds before your door opened and he offered his hand once again. You successfully landed on your feet, your hand moulded with his and now it was your turn to lead him. Up the steps. You fumbled with your keys until you found the correct one, you felt nervous under his gaze. Those low eyelids undressing you, you just knew it. Your key slid into the slot and turned it unlocking your door. "Thanks... for the ride."
"No problem, ma." You looked up as he towered over you. His energy pulled you in, you were drunk but you weren't that drunk. Maybe he could come in for a little bit.
— — Clothes spread across your bedroom floor, the sheets sliding off the bed like melted cheese. You two were in a tangle of limbs, naked bodies pressed against each other, his nose brushed yours as he planted the softest kiss on your lips. Your hands flew to his flushed cheeks pulling him in with eagerness and at the same time, his slender finger running over your blue panties. You smiled against his lips. His kisses were so warm and passionate. 
He used his fingers to tug at your panties, hauling them to the side. You whined feeling him run them between your wet folds, collecting and salivating your juices. He toyed with your clit, slowly and steadily, your hips bucking up to chase his touch. Ending your short misery a finger entered your heat, you gasped in the middle of your kiss and your eyebrows knitted together, your face reading 'finally.' You smiled hazily against his lips once he pulled it out and plunged back in with an additional finger. "Fuuuuck."
He skillfully curled his fingers up hitting that spongey spot, that sweet spot. You squirmed under him with pleasure and anticipation... desperation, for more. You sat up on your elbows looking down and seeing his fingers work their magic on you, your mouth fell open, pushing your hips forward once again. You just wanted more.
You looked back up at him. "You're so pretty when you make that face, cariño." He complimented. The heel of his hand brushed against your pulsing clit, you clenched around his fingers causing a smirk to appear on his face. "S-shit, please."
"Please what mi amor?"
For once, you were in no mood for foreplay, you were very slick and sticky with arousal. "Just fuck me, please."
He smiled shaking his head at your earnest request, he continued his teasing assault on your sweet spot, his lips connecting to your neck, your eyes rolling at the immense pleasure you were receiving. Your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place. "Yes... oh... yes!" He was pulling your orgasm closer and closer, your hips raised off the mattress. "I thought you just said you wanted me to fuck you?"
"I-I do."
"Doesn't seem like it now." He evilly chuckled. The sound of your pussy juice and your frantic whimpers went straight to his dick, his growing erection poking at your leg. "I'm gonna cum." You wept. Spooky slowly pulled out his fingers leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, you groaned glaring at him. He winked wrapping his lips around the fingers that were just inside you, he licked off your essence until his fingers were clean. You giggled dropping your head on the pillow.
Spooky pulled off his boxers and his dick sprung out with a wet thud once the tip hit his lower abdomen, fuck he was so hard, you drooled at the sight spreading your legs further apart. He wrapped his hand around his girth sliding his tip between your soaked folds before carefully pushing his length inside you. Your voice broke at the feeling of him against your gummy walls, enveloping every inch he had to give you. Your bottom lip finds comfort between your teeth, your head tipped back and your toes curled. His sack hits your ass as he bottomed out. Filled you to the brim.
Spooky held his position, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. His warm hands find solace on the back of your thighs, sliding up to the crook of your knee. You felt as he pushed your legs back, your knees touching your chest. He pulled his hips back and pushed them forward flush against your pelvis his coarse curly hair at the base of his shaft brushing against your clit, an additional sensation. 
Your hands wrapped around his wrists as he rocked into you, giving you strokes you've never felt in your life. Your mouth fell open, breathless whispers leaving your throat, egging him on about how well he stretched you, how full you felt with him inside you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so-o good." 
Spooky smirked looking down at you, your various love faces so beautiful being contorted with pleasure. He leaned down, your legs now planted on his shoulders, he kissed your nose and then forehead before pressing his against it. There was a mix of sounds-- his grunting, your erotic moans and the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls, if you lived in an apartment they'd probably knock on the wall to complain. 
You could feel yourself leaking, dripping, onto the sheets and coating his dick in your desire. "You're so fucking pretty when you're taking me, princesa. Eres muy guapa." He groaned, your head fell back, your high carefully approaching once again. Your nails left crescent shapes on his skin. "Shit! I like being inside you, you're so fucking wet, bebita." 
Your walls constantly fluttered around him. He hissed and you smirked. "I know you feel that, fuck, I'm gonna cum for you." 
His hand slipped between sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit once again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, his teeth nibble at your jaw. "Right there! Uh-huh, right fucking there!" Spooky pounded into you, hard yet maintaining rhythm. Your eyes are glossy with incoming tears, the overstimulation of it all. "Fucking squeeze me, mamita. I got you, cum on this dick." 
His words tip you over and your body tenses up and your eyes fall into the pit of your skull. He felt every pulsation of your orgasm, his tip constantly hitting your spot. He held up his weight, his hands rested on your lower back fingers gripping your ass cheeks. His thrusts became sloppier as he helped your ride out your orgasm and his quickly approaching. "Oh my god," You hazily giggle. "Fuck! Yeah, use me to get yourself off, please. Cum wherever you want, baby, give it to me." 
Spooky pushed in one more time, you faintly smiled at the feeling of his warm spend squirting inside of you. You were both out of breath, Spooky leaned back and sat on his knees with his softening dick still buried inside you. He helped take your legs off his shoulder and you mumbled in pain. "Shit... I mean I didn't expect you to actually fold me." 
He laughed. "I said I was gonna do it." He spoke in reference to his warning earlier when you lured him into your house. He leaned down once again to give you an affectionate kiss. "You feeling okay?" 
"More than okay." You confessed. "Good," He kissed your nose before pulling out, you almost pouted at the loss. "You're okay if I grab some water?" 
You nodded telling him there were bottles in the fridge, he shot you a thumbs up and put on his boxers before he left, once he was out of your sight you let out a big sigh of relief and a very bright smile was sure to follow. You felt so giddy, butterflies were making their home in your nervous system. What the fuck was this feeling? 
Spooky grabbed two bottles and made his way back upstairs, offering you one. You thanked him and sat up as carefully as you could. You caught a prideful smirk on his face. "Don't start." You warned him, he put his hands up in defence. 
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked out of the blue. "Not much, why?" 
"Uh, I'm not one to overstep my boundaries and it's up to you,  really, but do you want to get something to eat?" 
You nodded. "Of course. Any places in mind?" 
"There's a... breakfast bar... downtown." He sounded more nervous with that statement. You blushed. "Breakfast? Oh, so you want to spend the night with me, Spooky?" 
He suddenly felt like an idiot, he was very much a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits person but with you, he kind of wanted to see if this could go somewhere. "If that's cool with you." 
You set your bottle down on the nightstand, you smiled propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You crawl over to him and kiss his temple, you go down to nibble his ear and whisper; "If you keep fucking me like that, I just might have to keep you." 
He shivered, his dick jumped at the thought alone. Quickly the roles were reversed back his fingers intertwined with yours as he put you on your back. 
"I better get to work then."
If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are always appreciated.
peace and love, see you in the next one.
🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit
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golbrocklovely · 11 months
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careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 4)
A/N: first off, terribly sorry this came out so late. i've had a hectic last couple days, and didn't get to finish this fic up until tonight. and sadly, this the last thing i'm posting for my 13 nights of halloween. it's crazy to think that this is finally over. to anyone curious i will be getting back to answering asks by tomorrow. i'll also be writing up my review of hell week, and any other random things i had planned to write about/review before my 13 nights. also, i know so many of you have been waiting eagerly for this next installment, so sorry for the long awaited update. but hopefully it's made better by this fic. happy belated halloween, and happy haunting !
prompt: sam and colby have left you high and dry, so now you've resorted to possibly hooking up with a coworker at an event. but sam and colby will be having NONE of that. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader
trigger warning: SO MUCH SMUT, manipulation via powers (surprise! it's not you this time), fucking in a public, fucking with a crowd watching, the crowd is also all of your coworkers, dumb business shit that i know nothing about bc i went to school for theater and work in retail lol, fourth wall break (spooky), cursing, degrading language, being bit but no blood drawn), mentions of: princess, baby girl, baby, slut, whore, called a fleshlight once, unprotected sex (but no fear of getting pregnant bc they're supernatural), gets a bit dark and possessive towards the end, heavy use of MINE and OURs, snc own you so…. if you don't like that don't read,
word count: 7077
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~~~~~~~~~
It was Halloween night, and while you usually looked forward to Halloween, this night was a bit different. The company you worked at was having their annual 'Final Fiscal Quarter Party'. The higher ups agreed that it would be easier to throw it during October, rather than in December. Individual offices could throw their own then, but the main, big event was happening tonight.
Your company rented out a huge hotel ballroom. There was catering, a local DJ playing some family friendly tunes, and a stage where awards were going to be given out. You had been to a couple of these events over the years, but they were always very... boring. You would much rather be at home, snuggled up, watching a scary movie.
Or maybe getting fucked by your... boyfriends? It was hard to describe the relationship you had with Sam and Colby. They used you, but you used them. It was a very symbiotic relationship in that way. But currently, you weren't really too keen on them.
You considered hitting up your old friend, Jess. She was the one, after all, that magically brought Sam and Colby into your life. You hadn't talked to her in a long time. It could be because she still blamed you for the book permanently shutting and ruining her dating life forever.
She could bitch all she wanted, but she wasn't the one being stalked and fucked by a demon and a vampire.
You had grown a bit tired of Sam and Colby, their antics, and their overall ability to flip your world upside down. The sex was great, obviously. But at what cost?
Not to mention, they hadn't spoken to you, or showed up, in months. You were going through a bit of a dry spell, and hated the fact that they hadn't answered your calls. So, it did cross your mind to get rid of them. Permanently.
But that was an issue for another time. Right now, all you had to focus on was getting just drunk enough to enjoy this stuffy party, but not too drunk that you get messy.
And that came a bit easy for you. Across the bar, a handsome man smiled at you, giving you a nod as you accepted his drink. You could see his paper nametag said Brian, and you hadn't recognized him from your own office - so he was a safe bet. God knows you weren't the only one trying to hook up with someone tonight. Plenty of colleagues from different divisions were going to be getting crazy tonight. It was an inside joke amongst the company that this night was usually a fuckfest.
You gazed over at Brian, admiring his silky quaffed hair and great suit. He had a lovely smile; one he shot your way over the glass of whiskey he had in his hand.
A man like Brian seemed... dependable. A good choice for a significant other. Boring, basic, Brian. Maybe that's exactly what you needed. Something steady and settled. Not... supernatural.
Yeah, but could you ever fuck a man like Brian? A man like him could never fulfill your needs. You could hear Colby's voice in the back of your head.
You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip from your wine glass. No. Brian might seem a bit basic on the surface, but who knows? Deep down he could be a sex god. Maybe he was packing some serious heat, and just knew all the right ways to eat a woman out. Yeah, that's what's you would be focusing on. Not the imagine that Sam and Colby would surely try to paint in your head.
You were brought out of your thoughts as the lights dimmed up and down, signaling everyone to get to their seats, as the speeches and award ceremony was going to start soon. You shot a look at Brian one more time and found your seat quickly.
The head of the company sauntered up on stage as applause erupted throughout the room. He nodded his head, shooting a couple people smiles and finger guns. Eventually as the room quieted down, he stepped up to the podium, beginning his speech.
"Good evening, everyone. I'm so happy you all could make it here tonight. Happy Halloween by the way. Isn't this much better than a Christmas party?" He let out a solid laugh, swatting at the crowd jokingly. "But as I was saying, tonight we are all here to celebrate. This company might be big, but it's the little guys - the individuals - that deserve the praise the most. Sure, I'm the head and face of this place, but you guys are what make it possible."
Another round of claps came from the room. You glanced around and noticed that the chair next to you was empty. There was a name tag on the plate, designating this spot for a "Colson Brock".... whoever that was.
"Now before the awards begin, I would like to introduce you all to someone remarkable. This man has helped shape this company in many ways. And, he's incredibly sexy. So let's all give a round of applause for Samson Golbach." The CEO grinned brightly, gesturing to the side of the stage.
You raised an eyebrow, Sexy? That's a strange word to use at a business party. Not to mention, The CEO was married to a woman so... this was all a bit confusing. You awkwardly clapped as the light shined on a man with light blonde hair. He was in an all-black suit, his hair gelled in a sleek look. He waved at the crowd, smirking mischievously. He smiled once he got to the podium, his fangs glistening in the light.
Was that... Sam?
You gasped in your seat, staring up with wide eyes at the stage. It looked like him, but you had never seen him in a suit. Plus he wasn't exuding the same energy he usually would so, maybe this wasn't him. Maybe this was his doppelganger, or someone that looked extremely like him. You sat back in your chair, narrowing your eyes up at the man.
"Thank you all for having me here today. I know many of you don't know who I am, but that's by design. I purposefully like to stay in the shadows, remain almost anonymous. It's a system I built to keep this company running at breakneck speed, and so far... this has been our most successful year to date!" Samson cheered.
You could feel the room clap again, happy with Sam... Samson's words. You took a deep breath, your anger rising. This can't be Sam. Sure, it looked like him and even sounded like him. But Sam and Colby had never taken this... thing, with you outside of your own house. There was no way they would do this to you in front of all of your coworkers and colleagues.
"It's nice to finally be appreciated and received so well. I'm sure you've all had some crazy days and night working here. I usually work all hours of the night and barely get to see the sun. You would think I was some sort of a vampire or something." Samson chuckled, some members of the crowd following suit. He turned, catching your eye, and gave you a wink.
Did he just...
The chair next to you pulled back, a man sat down hastily. He cleared his throat, catching his breath. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket, the silver pinstripes reflecting in the light. Your eyes traveled up the man's form, taking him in until finally stopping on his face. Everything about him was familiar, but his hair was pushed back, exposing his forehead. He took his glasses off, cleaning the lenses and sliding them back on.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” You growled.
The man, Colby, turned to look at you suddenly. “I'm... sorry?”
You crossed your arms tightly, sitting back in your chair. “I can't believe that you and Sam would do this.”
He gave a weary smile. “I'm so sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”
“Right, Colby.” You huffed.
“Colby? That's a silly name,” he chuckled. “My name is Colson.”
“Of course it is.” You turned to him sharply, “You know you two have a lot of audacity to do this.”
He shook his head awkwardly. “Again, I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss.”
“You guys haven't spoken to me in months. I've called out to yall and got nothing back. And now you show up and want to play dress up?!” You whispered harshly. “You guys are sick.”
“I'm not entirely sure what to say. I'm not who you think I am,” he dissented. “I'm Colson Brock, not Colby, and I've never met that man on stage before in my life. But I am about to get an award from him so... if you could just stop talking to me, that would be for the best.”
You scoffed. “I swear to God, Colby-!”
You were cut off as Sam’s voice grew louder, “This award is given out to individuals that show inspiring traits and work countlessly day in and day out for us. The award for Best Dedication, Integrity, Creativity, and Knowledge goes to... Colson Brock!”
You scowled as Colby stood up, patting down his suit softly. He walked towards the stage, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder. He stepped on stage, shaking Sam's hand, and a photo was taken of the two of them holding the award.
You grabbed your purse, sneaking off to the bathroom quickly. You stumbled in, rushing to the sink and leaning against it. The bathroom was empty, just you alone. You breathed deeply, shaking your head.
That had to be Sam and Colby. There's no way that wasn't them.
But a part of you imagined, for just a moment, that maybe... it wasn't them. How could they have manipulated everyone into thinking they were real workers at this company? The CEO introduced Sam, or Samson. Colby's name, or Colson's name, was on the nametag and award.
You felt yourself flush at the thought. Oh my God, if that isn't Colby, that man out there thinks I'm absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to my table, sit there and eat an under seasoned chicken parm, and pretend I didn't just berate a man?
You groaned, bending down, and resting your head against the sink counter. Even when Sam and Colby weren't around, they still fucked with you.
You heard the bathroom door squeak open, your body jolting up. You didn't need another person thinking you were losing it.
Heavy footsteps crept into the bathroom, a man. A deep voice sighed, snickering lightly. You glanced up through the mirror, your eyes widening. Colby swayed in, leaning against the wall. His suit jacket was gone, now just in his button up and slacks. He rolled up his sleeves, running a hand through his hair.
“Surprise, Princess. Did ya miss us?” He teased.   
You glared, “What the fuck, Colby?”
“What?” He gestured outside the bathroom, “A bit too dramatic?”
“This is my livelihood! How dare you and Sam come and fuck this up for me!” You exclaimed, anger coursing through your veins.
“Relax, baby. We would never do anything too bad. No need to worry. Everyone will forget any of this happened. Honestly.” He put his hands up defensively. “This was all meant to be a bit of fun. We just wanted to get a rise out of you.”
“Well, you succeeded. Congratulations.” You retorted, crossing your arms.
“You should be congratulating me on my award. I have the best dedication, integrity, creativity, and knowledge.... D-I-C-K. Dick? Best dick, get it?” He bit his lip cockily, “Came up with it myself.”
“You're a fucking genius,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “God, I knew I should have talked to Jess sooner.”
“Jess... why does that name sound familiar?” He questioned, feigning curiosity.
“She's the one that gave me the book that made the two of you.” You explained bitterly.
“Oh, she is? I'm gonna have write her a thank you card,” he winked. “But why exactly do you need to talk to her?”
“You two... I want you gone.” You admitted.
His face dropped, “What?”
You stepped up to Colby, getting in his face. “Aren't you tired of fucking around with me? Coming and going as you please? Why am I not allowed a normal life with a normal guy?!”
The lights flickered in the bathroom, Colby's eyes turning black for a split second, his horns visible. You shuttered, pressing yourself against the counter. The lights stopped flickering, and Colby was back to normal.
He cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit. “Because... you're ours. You belong to us.”
“Fuck you.” You spat.
“You have... multiple times,” Colby pointed out in a snarky tone. “Even last year around this time, too.”
“Last Halloween?” You thought back, and a bunch of images started popping into your mind. Sam snapped Colby's neck but was also somehow terrorizing trick-or-treaters. Colby took control of your body but was also somehow dead while you and Sam fucked in your kitchen. It was all very confusing and didn't make quite sense.
“Wait, how the hell did you both fuck me and simultaneously not?” You puzzled, aggravated.
“I guess it just depends on what you picked.” Colby smirked, “Right, reader?”
“What are you talking about?” You replied.
“Don't worry about it.” He leaned against the counter next to you, “Back to what you were saying though. So, you want a normal guy so you can live a normal life... why? Isn't it more exciting to get fucked by a demon and a vampire?”
“Yeah, but there's more to life than sex.” You argued.
He feigned shock, “Take that back.”
You jeered, “You're extra fucking annoying, you know that?”
“And you clearly need the brattiness fucked out of you. But for some reason you don't want me or Sam to do it. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?” He took a couple steps, facing you again, “Like, say... Brian.”
You felt your heart skip a beat. “How do you-“
He interjected. “I'm a demon. I know a lot of things. Not to mention I saw him and you eye-fucking each other by the bar. You're lucky I saw it and not Sam. Because Brian would be drained dry by now. Still probably will be.”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine. I was eye-fucking Brian. And why am I not allowed to? Yall have been gone for months.”
“But you've been putting that toy of yours to such good use,” Colby taunted.
“You're an asshole.” You shot back.
“Thank you. I appreciate the love,” he smiled genuinely. “But I gotta ask, do you really think a man named 'Brian' can make you come like we can? Be honest with yourself on that.”
“That's not the only reason I want him,” you responded sassily. “Plus, he could be really good at sex.”
“Okay then. Let's find out.” Colby stomped over to the door, yelling out, "Brian! Get in here!"
You furrowed your brow, confused as to what Colby had up his sleeve. What the hell was he bringing Brian in here for?
Brian stepped in, glancing between the two of you. He had a dazed look on his face, clearly entranced.
“Colby, don-“ You started.
He cut you off again, “Look, princess. You wanted to know if he's a good fuck. So, I'm giving you the chance to find out. See what a normal fucking will bring to your life.”
“You can't force him to fuck me!” You fumed.
“I mean, I definitely could, but I'm not going to.” He turned to Brian, patting his shoulder, “Brian, my guy, do you want to fuck Y/N?”
Brian nodded. “Yes.”
“That's why you were buying her drinks tonight, right?” Colby asked.
“Yeah.” Brian’s voice was dull, almost like there were no thoughts behind his eyes.
“Such an honest man,” Colby commented. “Do you find her attractive?”
“Of course.” Brian agreed.
“Would you sleep with her if she said yes?” He continued.
Brian blinked, “Yes.”
Colby looked at you, “There we go. Happy?”
“I'm not fucking him in here, or in front of you.” You retorted, leaning back against the counter.
“Don't you want to prove me wrong? Don't you want to wipe the smug look off my face when he makes you come with his tongue? Or his totally, not average sized, dick?” Colby stepped up to you, his voice low, “The moment I walked in here, you got wet.”
A rush of blood came to your cheeks, your breath hitching.
“No amount of blushing can hide that deep down, you're a slut that wants to be fucked - pretty much - anywhere. And you're only giving me lip because we left you cold and alone for a couple months. I'm sorry about that. I truly wished I listened to your pleads...” he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “And cries...” he moved to the other cheek, giving it a quick kiss. “And screams,” he kissed your forehead gently. “Begging me to come fuck you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. And this, right here, is my apology to you.”
You stood still, unsure what to do. Part of you did want to fuck Brian, just because you did find him hot. But with Colby standing next to him... it was no contest.
“Here. I'll sweeten the deal,” Colby offered. “If he makes you come, we'll leave. Forever.”
You froze, “Really?”
“No, probably not. The whole magical book kinda forbids that. But we will leave here, and you and Brian can go on your merry way and you two can go have beautifully... vanilla, sex.” He smiled dryly.
“Lucky for Brian, I'm already wet.” You quipped, glaring.
“Perfect. Brian, give the lady what she wants.” He gasped, “Ooh, can I choose what he does? Pleaseeeee?”
You blinked, giving the slightest nod.
“You are so generous.” Colby spun to him, “Brian, do you want to eat her out?”
“I would... but I don't do that.” Brian spoke monotone.
Colby’s face dropped, almost mimicking yours. “You don't give head? Sloppy toppy? None of that?”
“No.” Brian replied.
“This is the man you want, huh? Absolute loser,” Colby pointed at him, rolling his eyes. “Well, Brian, now you do. So, go crazy.”
Brian turned to you, a lustful look overcoming him. He dropped to his knees, crawling towards you. Your heart raced, watching his every move. His hands wrapped around your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg gently. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, your head falling back a bit.
Colby leaned against the wall, studying you. His face was blank, almost uninterested. You glared at him, trying to ignore his presence. He smiled, giving a little wave.
Brian nibbled on your inner thigh, his fingers stroking up and down the center of your underwear. He brushed against your clit, your knees almost buckling.
“You're wet, Y/N.” Brian hummed in awe.
“Yeah, that's what happens when you turn a woman on.” He leaned in, whispering to you, “Is he new around here or...?”
“Shut up, Colby!” You groaned. “Keep going Brian, please. I need you.”
“Don't take it too personally, Brian. She says that to everyone. Especially me.” Colby grinned.
“Drop dead.” You hissed.
He remarked, “I'm not really alive so...”
Brian pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down your legs and to the floor. The cool air hit your hot sex, making your body tense up. Brian leaned in, his mouth connecting with your clit.
You closed your eyes tightly, allowing the sensation of his tongue to arouse you more. It was a slow build, that was for sure. Nothing like Sam and Colby and the way they did things. But it was still nice.
But maybe not what you needed.
You placed your hand on the back of Brian's head, pushing him more into your heat. He grunted, the vibrations feeling fantastic against your clit. You amped up your moans, hoping it was believable to Colby.
He yawned, gazing at you bored. You shook your head, deciding to ignore Colby. You were determined to come, to make them leave. But Brian was not helping you, which was upsetting.
“Brian, baby... go a little faster please.” You begged, annoyed.
He nodded, moving his tongue hastily. You could feel the pleasure build more, but it was still a long way away from being close to an orgasm. He slid a finger in, pumping in and out sloppily. You groaned, feeling even less turned on suddenly.
“I guess I know why you don't give head.” Colby swatted at Brian, “Move.”
Your eyes widened, “What? No! Brian, st-”
“I know you want to come so we leave, but that ain't gonna happen with Brian over here.” Colby mentioned.
"Well, maybe he could fuck me!" You argued, gesturing to his dick.
“But I'm not hard.” Brian stated.
Colby raised an eyebrow, “Why?”
“Eating pussy isn't really a turn on for me.” Brian informed.
“God, Y/N, you really know how to pick them.” Colby pulled him up by his arm, smiling sinisterly. “Brian, why don't you leave and go find Sam? I think he can teach you a valuable lesson on what happens to men that don't please their women.”
Brian turned and left, not saying another word. You huffed, glaring harshly at Colby. “Your little glares aren't going to do anything to me, sweetheart. If anything, they just make me hard.”
Colby's hand slid down and cupped your sex, palming your clit gingerly. You gasped, back arching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Colby barricaded you in, his hand beginning to make small circles on your clit.
“This is how a man fucks a woman like you.” He uttered, staring at you intensely.
“But you're not eating me out.” You challenged.
Colby cocked his head. “If you wanted my tongue, you could have just asked.”
You suddenly felt a tongue licking at your entrance, your body shuttering in ecstasy. “Fuck, h-how-?”
"Did you forget I have abilities? Is it because the horns aren't here?" The lights flickered, and when they turned back on, his horns were out. “How about now? Do you remember what I am now?”
"Yeaahhh, I remember." You whined, your head falling back in pleasure.
“You are so sexy when you get close to coming. God, it makes me hard just thinking about it.” Colby pushed his clothed, growing dick against your thigh, “Do you feel me?”
You nodded mindlessly, your hands gripping his forearms.
“Princess?” He asked innocently.
“Uh-huh?" You murmured.
“I think that's enough for you." All the sensations stopped, Colby pulling away from you.
“Wha-? No. No! Colby, please.” You grumbled.
He asserted, “It's time for you to be punished.”  
“What did I do?” You questioned, your mouth a gape.
"I'm sorry, was Brian that forgetful or do you like playing dumb?" Colby spun you around, making you face the mirror. He rolled your dress up a bit, pressing his bulge against your bare ass. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna start fucking you, and you have to remain quiet. Just like you were with Brian."
You lowered your voice, “Why do I have to be silent?”
“Because otherwise, you'll get caught.” He whispered cheekily.
The door busted open, and a gaggle of women came in, chit chatting like there wasn't a demon about to fuck you right against the sink.
You gulped; your voice even quieter. “What the fuck, Colby?!”
"Don't worry, princess. If you remain silent, they won't see you. But once you make a single noise, they'll know. They'll know that you are a dirty slut that likes to get fucked in the bathroom. That you're so desperate for dick that you'd let a demon fuck you. And a vampire." He tsked sassily, "Double greedy."
Colby unbuttoned his pants, giving your ass a slap as his cock sprang free. You bit your lip, holding back a gasp.
"You ready for me, baby?" He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding along your lips. Then finally, he glided his cock in.
You trembled from the sensations, direly wanting to moan along with him. But you didn't want to get caught. Being fucked while others were around, whether they could see you or not, was embarrassing enough.
But also incredibly thrilling.
Colby thrusted deeply, his cock hitting the right spot over and over again. You felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. Your body already felt like it was building rapidly, your legs shaking under your weight. You felt like your skin was on fire, burning against the cool air.
A lady walked up to the sink next to you, washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror. You shuttered out a breath, Colby picking up his pace.
“Don't look at her, Y/N. Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself get fucked.” He commanded breathlessly.
You turned your head, staring straight. He smirked at you in the mirror, keeping his pace the same while lazily pulling off his tie.
"This is what you deserve, sweetheart. You're such a slut for me." He yanked your hands behind your back, tying them easily with his tie. He gripped your connected hands, bucking his hips harder and faster now.
Your body buzzed erotically, your hips gyrating in time with Colby's. You could feel your edge building; all you had to do was stay quiet.
Colby slid one hand down between your legs, finding your swollen clit instantly. He rubbed it faster than his thrusts, causing your whole body to jolt. You sucked in a harsh breath, knowing you shouldn't have. But God... the sensation was too much for you to stay quiet.
The women in the bathroom looked around, confused.
"Baby, do you want to get caught or something? Because you are being awfully loud. Maybe you need something in your mouth to quiet you down." He snaked his other hand up towards your face, his two fingers rubbing along your lips. You parted your mouth, allowing his fingers inside.
He cursed, “That's fucking it baby. Be a good girl and suck them for me.”
You sucked his fingers like your life depended on it. He finger-fucked your mouth in time with his dick, both speeding up as the minutes passed. You could feel yourself getting close, knowing that your orgasm was imminent.
“It's been too long since the last time you sucked my cock.” He chuckled darkly, “Maybe later you do that for me. Wouldn't you want that, princess?”
You nodded desperately, bucking your hips wildly against his cock and hands. You were about to explode, your edge hitting its peak. This is all you wanted for the last couple months: to be fucked hard and well. And that's what Colby was doing.
“You almost ready to come? Build up baby. Suck my fingers dry. Suck them like you would my dick.” You took his fingers deeper, gagging around them. You pumped yourself on his cock, whimpering. "There you go, baby. What a good girl." Colby leaned in, his horns grazing your cheek as he uttered, "My good girl... Come for me."
Your body spasmed around Colby's cock, bouncing on it helplessly. You moaned loudly around his fingers, not caring if anyone heard. You had been so focused on staring in the mirror at yourself getting fucked that didn't see that you and Colby were all alone in the bathroom once more. His eyes bore at you in the mirror, flashing to black.
Relaxing your hips, his cock pulled out of you for a moment, letting you relax. You felt your juices run down your inner thigh, your body still running high. You leaned down, placing your head against the counter as you took some deep breaths.
“Hi there, baby girl. “A familiar voice came from behind you, but it wasn't Colby's. You looked up quickly, Sam now behind you, and Colby was nowhere to be seen. Sam waved back at you in the mirror, smirking. "You ready for me now?"
“W-Where is Colby?” You stuttered, your pussy twitching at the thought of Sam's hard cock.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about him. He'll be back soon enough." Sam traced a finger along your sex, gasping. "God baby, you are so wet. Completely soaking yourself."
He took his finger into his mouth, tasting you. "Fuck, I missed that."
Your mouth hung open, watching him through lustful eyes. His hand snaked around to the front of your body, grabbing your neck firmly. He pulled you flush against his partially exposed body, his cock hard against your ass. "We give you everything you could ask for, and you still wanted someone like Brian? How pathetic."
He forced your head to look at yourself in the mirror, "You are a desperate slut just begging to be fucked. But we're the only ones that can make you feel this good."
Sam slammed his hips into yours, his cock taking you deeply. You grunted loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. He took advantage of your still tied up hands, holding them tightly. His other hand raced up your back, lowering you down to the sink. He placed you flat against the counter, fucking you harshly. You shook with each of his thrusts, mewling at every in and out.
“You think you get to choose who fucks you now? You think you can move on from us?” He fumed, his cocking hitting your spot repeatedly.
You panted, “Noooo.”
“There is no one other than us. Let me make that abundantly clear: you're ours.” Sam's fangs sunk into your skin, your eyes widening. He continued to bite you all over, barely drawing any blood, but marking you; letting everyone know you were taken.
Your second orgasm was close. You needed this second one badly, itching to come sooner rather than later. You could feel how desperate and hot and slutty it was turning you.
“Baby girl, do you deserve to come? Have you been good?” Sam questioned.
You nodded, your whole body shaking, “Yessss. Yes I have. Please Sam! Please!”
He pulled you up again, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. “Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself come on my dick.”
You uncontrollably bucked your hips, whining on his cock. His hold on your neck tightened just enough, making it hard to breath and your vision blurring. The lack of oxygen made your orgasm hit twice as hard. You soaked his member, moving mindlessly on it until you finally finished. Your legs gave out a bit, Sam catching you. He snickered, his red eyes taking you in through the mirror.
The doors to the bathroom busted open again, a random lady coming in. She turned and looked at the two of you, not even acknowledging what she had to be seeing. "Y/N, you need to come out there quick."
You were taken aback by this woman, unsure of who she was or what the hell she wanted you for. "W-what are you talking about?" You rushed, shimmying your dress down, trying to cover yourself back up.
“They're calling your name. You won an award!” She exclaimed, leaving the bathroom happily.
You furrowed your brow, turning to Sam. But he was gone. Those powers of their really do come in handy for moments like these.
You shuffled out of the bathroom, even more confused as you glanced around at everyone from your company. They were all looking at you, smiling brightly and being congratulatory. You walked towards the stage, the people directing you, and as you got closer, you saw Sam and Colby on it, holding a plaque of some sort.
Sam pulled you on stage, kissing your cheek sweetly. Colby handed you the award, shaking your hand dramatically. You took the award in your hand, turning it to see what it said.
“Give it up for Y/N everyone. The biggest slut of the year!” Sam yelled into the microphone. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”  
You gawked at Sam and Colby, the reality of what they did hitting you. You threw the award on the ground, glaring at them harshly.
“Hey now, we worked really hard on that.” Sam pouted.
“Fuck you, how dare you make me a fool in front of everyone!” You ranted, getting in their faces.
"Princess, no one is gonna remember this. And luckily, no one will remember this either." Colby smiled devilishly.
Sam and Colby grabbed at your dress, tearing it off your body like it was made of cheap fabric. The crowd cheered, your body heating up immediately as you were suddenly naked in front of everyone.
“Now, don't argue with us, plaything. You can bitch and moan all you want to but being fucked in front of everyone... turns you on.” Colby wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear, “No matter how much you want to deny it, you can't deny how drenched you are right now.”
Your body quivered as Colby's fingers slipped easily into your cunt. You fell back against him; his suddenly naked body cool against your hot skin. Sam sauntered up to you, rubbing his hands up and down your torso. His hands kneaded your breasts, nipples aching to be touched.
Sam laughed, “Look at her, Colby. She can't even argue with us. She knows that we're right. She is the biggest slut of the year. She's our slut, our toy, our plaything. Ours. Forever.”
The room erupted in applause, some even screaming out your name.
“Let's give them a show, princess,” Colby gestured to the eager crowd. Let the people see the real slut you are. Isn’t that what you want? To be fucked in front of everyone.”
You couldn't think anymore. Every sensation was overpowering your thoughts. You knew deep down that Sam and Colby were right, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted to come again.
You nodded feverishly, your hands automatically pawing at both of their bodies. The air around you changed once you said yes, your body being positioned graphically. Forced down onto your knees, Colby stood in front of you, while Sam was behind you.
“Aww, baby. Look, it's your favorite positions: on your hands and knees, getting railed by us.” Sam jested playfully.
Your sex throbbed, direly needing them inside of you. You whined, looking up at Colby. “Please, just fuck me. No more teasing.”
Colby stared into your eyes, jerking himself off right in front of your face. “You want this, huh? You want me in your mouth. Say it.”
You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you in my mouth.”
“And what about me, toy?” Sam slapped your ass, making you look back at him.
“Fuck, I need it. I need the both of you so bad!” You cried, grinding your hips back against Sam.
Hoots and hollers sounded off around the room. You glanced at the crowd, their hungry eyes taking your desperate form in.
“Fine then, since you asked so nicely,” Colby cupped your face, turning your head back to his cock. The tip pushed against your mouth, sliding in easily. He moaned lowly, almost animalistically. Sam teased his cock along your entrance, slipping in effortlessly.
Once they were in you, you sighed deeply. It felt so good to be surrounded by Sam and Colby, to be filled by them. They had you right where they wanted you, and you loved every second of it.
And the crowd seemed to love it even more.
They started off slow, taking their time to build your pleasure up. There was nothing else on your mind. All you could think about was their cock and how much you wanted them to come deep inside of you.
Colby gaped, “Oh princess, you have the filthiest mind. Maybe even dirtier than ours.”
“That's why she's our slut. We are just innocent people being used by this whore of a woman,” Sam shuttered, lulling his head back as he fucked you. “And God, I love every second of it.”
“I could fuck this mouth for hours. How does that sound, sweetheart? You love that idea, don't you?” Colby breathed, biting his lip, staring down at you.
You nodded enthusiastically, taking his shaft deeper. He grunted, hips twitching. His hand rested on your head lightly, pulling your hair softly. His grip tightened, causing you to gag around him.
Sam cursed, “Fuuuuck, she clenched around me when gagged. Keep doing that, baby girl. That felt so good.”
“Y/N, how can you get all of this, all of us, and still want something else? Especially Brian. What a fucking loser.” Colby groaned, disgusted.
Sam agreed, grimacing. “Dude didn't even know how to eat pussy. He didn't even like eating pussy.”
The crowd booed, screaming expletives at the sound of Brian's name.
“See, everyone knows that Brian sucks. How could you ever settle for something like that when you have the best right here?” Sam inquired. “Two men willing to do anything to make you come.”
"Let me make this perfectly clear, darling," Colby pulled himself out of you, raising you up so you were eye level with him. He held your face firmly, his voice low and calm. “While I'm never the type to get jealous, and watching you get eaten out by that joke of a man was entertaining and kinda sexy, let me be honest with you.”
His face dropped, his eyes darkening with each word. "If you ever go after another man again, I will personally make sure to rip his heart out in front of you, and then I’ll breed your cunt so deeply you will feel me for days. Because there is no one else for you, princess. Just. Us. Forever. That means for eternity, you are ours. You are mine."
Sam yanked your hair, pulling you out of Colby's grip for a moment. He grunted harshly, "That goes for me too, baby girl. If you ever even breathe near another man again, I might have to drain your sexy little body dry and turn you into our immortal plaything for forever. And don't think for a second I'm bluffing."
Colby took you by the neck, pulling you back towards him, choking you lightly. All the while, Sam was still fucking you. "There is no escaping us, Y/N. We will never let you go. No matter what you do for the rest of your life, we will always be there, in the shadows, watching. We own you. And nothing will change that."
His face relaxed, going back into his casual, smug look. "So... in the meantime, enjoy yourself, princess. And open your mouth again."
He pushed you down, his cock still hard and leaking, ready to fuck your mouth. Their words sank deeply into your mind, arousing and frightening you all at the same time.
Colby thrusted himself back in, gagging you. “There you go, baby. But now, I think it's time we give the people what they want. Right, everybody?!”
The room screamed in approval, lustful energy shooting through you from the sound. Suddenly, Sam and Colby began fucking you passionately, the sheer brutal force alone bouncing you back and forth on their cocks. You whined around them, feeling yourself get lost in the feeling of being their toy.
Sam groaned a breathy sound, “God, you're basically just a fleshlight, Y/N. Don't you love being used by us?”
“You know she does, Sam. Just a set of holes for us to use.” Colby’s voice was husky and low, “God, her mouth feels incredible.”
“She's so pathetic, really. She squeezed around me so tightly when we called her names. Maybe we should do that more often.” Sam taunted.
“Of course. There are so many more names we could come up with for her. But right now, all I'm concerned about is coming down her throat and fucking her until she chokes.” Colby's hips sped up as he face-fucked you. You didn't even have time to react, your jaw becoming slack and just allowing him to take over and use it like a toy. Tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks and drool dribbled down your chin from his harsh actions.
Sam's hand went between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. Your thighs shook from the feeling, the pleasure overwhelming.
“You're so close, aren't you, princess?” Colby panted.
Sam chimed in; his voice depraved. “Build up for us. Come with us, baby girl.”
They pounded into you in unison, almost taking the breath out of you with each thrust. The room began getting louder, chants of "Come for us" came from the crowd, building up in time with your orgasm.
Every part of this was spectacular and you couldn't get enough.
Your breathing hitched as your orgasm hit the edge, ready to fall over once they said you could. Sam and Colby kept going, kept using you, until they were ready. You begged them to let you come, your pleas muffled by Colby’s cock. Both thrusted with abandonment, needing to come just as badly as you.
Colby grunted, pulling your hair, “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, come! Come for us now!”
“Do it baby! That's fucking it, YES!” Sam growled, his fingers bruising your hips as he held them tightly.
All three of you exploded in euphoric pleasure, bellowing out in ecstasy. The crowd roared as Sam and Colby filled you up with their cum. You released around Sam's cock, soaking him. You swallowed as much of Colby's cum as you could, gagging as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly until finally slowing his hips down. Sam slammed inside of you once more, grunting out a strained cry. Your body was spent, exhausted from being fucked so many times. You felt yourself black out, unable to stay awake a moment longer.
When you came to, you were in your hotel room, inside the same hotel the event had taken place at. You felt sore everywhere, knowing that wasn’t a dream. You sighed happily, snuggling into bed. You noticed a note on the side of your pillow. You picked it up, reading it quickly.
Ours.
- Sam and Colby
<< Part 3B ||
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grimesgirll · 7 months
Text
you want to know what his deal is.
why the only facial expression he can manage is a scowl, why he seems so pent up.
rick grimes is a mystery to you.
some spooky backstory is written all over his face but there’s never been a clue of it otherwise - and you can only tell because you spend so much time watching him.
you never imagined yourself becoming obsessed with a man twice your age but here you are. you want to know what his face looks like when he cums. the older man is rotting your brain from the inside out.
it’s not until he stumbles upon you boxing alone in the empty gym that you realize it was on his mind too.
he doesn’t say anything upon entering and his footsteps are light but his reflection in the mirror gives him away. he’s watching from the stairwell as you go through your close combat training. it’s a rigorous routine recommended to you by one of your superiors that you feel deep in your core.
you pack power into every punch; trying to land blows strategically and not just wherever your own pent up sexual frustration sends them.
rick can’t help it when the once familiar straining in his pants starts up. he wordlessly runs a hand through his dark hair. despite the uneasy tension between the two of you, rick wants to get to know you better. not too well but well enough to know how you look after you get all of that energy out of your system.
he's lost in a daydream in the sleek underground training facility. the sound of footsteps exiting to the right breaks him out of his thoughts - thoughts of bending you over the weight lifting bench.
you traipse into the women’s locker room off the forest green paneled hallway.
he shouldn’t be thinking about following you.
you’re way too young for him.
before former private grimes can fully talk himself out of it, the image of you during one of your trainings materializes in his mind. he was supervising the new cadets - you, formerly - and you were stretching with the rest of your counterparts. you’d been in a standing straddle when you two locked eyes with each other.
the delicate balance of maintaining eye contact while not outright staring at your ass only took a few seconds to blur. rick was quickly turning his head and keeping his eyes averted.
ever since then, you’d caught hurried glimpses of each other. sometimes it felt like the older man’s eyes lingered on you though, like he was boring into you on another level.
you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t on your mind.
being freshly twenty a decade into the apocalypse didn’t make for the best dating scene. yeah, dating someone who could easily be your father was wild, but you didn’t have many other viable options. rick pushed all the right buttons for you no one else could.
as the water cascades down your back under the showerhead, your hand drifts below your abdomen to cup your sensitive bundle of nerves. you push past the semi-thick layer of hair covering your folds until your pointer finger is dipping inside of you.
despite it being your own fingers penetrating you, you still moan out loud, thankful that the showers are so empty and remote enough that you can enjoy having them all to yourself. you exhale and speed up your ministration. you add a finger for the added challenge. a third is sliding towards your entrance when you hear the shuffle of feet.
you cock your head. there's no reason for anyone else to be in here. there weren't many other female officers and all of the ones you knew trained here on much different schedules.
it's probably just the loud banging fan you and one of the female helicopter pilots had bitched together about. you ignore it and go back to your shower, sticking your head back enough that the shower is massaging your scalp, meanwhile your fingers massage your clit and your spongy insides.
god, you wish rick was here. his fingers were pretty large. coming in his embrace had to feel so fulfilling.
your taboo thoughts are interrupted by a loud banging. removing your fingers is an inconvenient affair, as you can't ignore that so you slowly creep towards the shower entrance, slipping past the curtain to see the subject of your shower fantasies standing before you.
the sage green towel you'd brought with is laying soaked on teh tiled floor while rick turns and smiles sheepishly at you. "this isn't what it looks like."
"i'm sure it's not."
rick averts his eyes and rotates to face the lockers. "i'm sorry. i can get you another towel."
you suddenly remember that you're on your feet naked. a rose blush colors your face. your cheeks grow even redder when you notice the massive bulge in his pants.
"is this turning you on?"
"what?"
"is seeing me naked turning you on?" you elaborate. please turn around, you hope.
"i'm not looking at you," he chides your name. "that's why i asked if you wanted a towel."
"if you didn't want to fuck me you would've left already."
regardless of facing the other way, rick's entire body tenses. a select few of his muscles twinge.
"you walked in on me-,"
"-that was an accident."
"yeah, yeah, rick," you chuckle.
the older man is raising an eyebrow when he turns around to face you. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to see you like-like this but don't forget that i'm your commanding officer."
“i’ll forgive you if you fuck me.”
a gasp exits your mouth when you observe him grasp his crotch at your words.
"your place or mine?"
it's not long before you've found semi-appropriate apparel to ditch the gym in as you follow rick back to his townhouse on base.
the soldier is pushing you through the door. it doesn't seem like he cares when you stumble across the threshold. he just slaps your ass, gesturing to the stairs.
your feet carry you robotically up the tiny staircase until you're walking into a bedroom. you don't spend long on your feet though because rick is shoving you onto the bed roughly. you want to be taken aback at the treatment; however you can't say that you're surprised that rick is such a rough lover.
“you want me to take it off?”
rick is referring to the black hand edging nearer to your spandex clothed pussy.
you shake your head. “i don’t mind,” you assure him, shutting your hips closer to a black, prosthetic finger.
"easy enough," he remarks and leans down to capture your velvety lips in a bruising battle of tongues that you lose immediately.
he goes to pull down your shorts but you stop him. you sit up on your knees and lay your hands over the strict outline in his pants.
"fuck," he rasps.
"want me to suck you off?"
"only if you get on your knees now."
he doesn't have to tell you twice. you undo his pants in olympic record time, lapping at the head of his already engorged cock. you don't tease him; his shaft is hitting the back of your throat before you know it and he has to breathe deeply to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of him down your throat.
rick had seen the way your eyes had widened at the sight of his erection back in the showers. you probably didn't anticipate this kind of behavior from a man his age. he wants to be gentle for you but that would just make it personal.
you're a junior officer who he should not be fraternizing like this with but he can't resist the hot, suction your tight little mouth is providing. not when you take him so well.
"good job, sweetheart," he praises. "a little lower," he plants his hands in your hair and manually forces your lips farther down his girthy length. "that's it, honey."
it isn't long before his dick is covered in spit and with every thrust, you're fighting off a gag. you do your best to swallow around his cock, reveling in the moans erupting from him as his hands dug further into your soft, gossamer hair.
“take a break, sweetheart,” rick pulls you off of his cock.
“you about ready?” he inquires, lazily pumping a prosthetic finger into you and his other hand around his cock.
you nod eagerly. he doesn't say anything - just works another unforgiving, bionic finger into you. "rick!" you whimper.
the southerner sends you an icy blue glare. "what was that?"
you gulp. "i'm sorry, sir."
rick smirks at you. "are you?"
"mhmm."
"how will you make it up to me?"
your hips writhe against his soft mattress beneath you. "sir, i want to make it up to you with my tight pussy, sir!"
his smirk grows. "ready whenever you are."
"i'm ready now, sir. i'm ready for your big cock."
you thought you'd be following along but you completely lose the plot when rick replaces his cyborg fingers with his fleshy cock and you're screaming.
"shh, hush!" rick slaps a hand over your mouth.
you scream muffled around his hand as he inserts each punishing inch into you. the stretch is intense and searing and you think you're going to pass out but after ninety seconds of feeling like rick would tear you part - you convulse around him.
"damn, already?"
you want to be embarrassed but you're hard pressed to care as your senior officer continues his brutal assault on your inexperienced pussy.
is he in my cervix? you ponder.
you crane your head backwards to spectate as the older soldier tunnels in and out of you. he has to be rearranging your kidneys and he has to be loving it from how dilated his pupils are. your tall, dark, and handsome superior is lost in your unrelenting cunt, head tipping back when he paints your plush insides white for the first time.
returning to earth momentarily, he discovers your eyes so intently laser focused on his. he scowls.
you grimace when he briefly slides out of you, but any complaints are momentarily paused when you get a mouth full of pillow.
this feels wrong. like he shouldn’t be fucking the young woman whose twentieth birthday his small battalion celebrated just the other week. it’s arduous to convince himself that this all wrong though - how can he when you’re clenching around him and mewling his name?
“rick!”
“you plannin’ on wakin’ up the rest of base?”
you shake your head, struggling to contain your moans - how can you when the older man is fucking the daylights out of you?
“be a good girl and shut up.” rick commands, reaching around to prod a finger at your lips and into your mouth. without asking, you go ahead and suck on his firm digits. the groans you elicit have you murmuring around his finger. “much better,” he commends you, rewarding you with a playful slap on your ass.
the sting reverberates through your pussy. the corresponding cry that comes from you only causes the man mercilessly filling you up to snort, landing another spank. he chuckles when you pulse around him.
“again already?”
has anyone ever told you you’re too big? you want to ask, but without the energy you just nod and hum.
the soldier’s speed only becomes more frantic. you can tell he’s finally close again from the way he’s digging his fingernails into your hips and burying himself deep inside of your already coated cunt.
yeah, he has to be my touching my cervix. you decide. probably ripped it open.
you feel ripped open by rick. it doesn't matter though, he doesn't slow even as your sopping cunt is leaking with your slick and his first load. his second release reaches even deeper inside of you, being plugged by rick's thick length as he collapses on top of you.
rick rolls over slightly, graying chestnut curls falling in his face as he gathers you closer to him. still inside of you, he's hard like bedrock. a hand reaches up to squeeze at your chest.
you whine when his mouth washes over your rosy bud and he grazes his teeth as well. "rick, too much." you pout at him, lips swollen.
“you think I’m done?”
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wardenparker · 1 year
Text
Vampire Waltz - ch 1
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Abusive relationship, getting *out* of an abusive relationship, alcoholism, alcohol, mention of sleeping in a car. Summary: One of the worst days of your life takes a sharp right turn into the unexpected when you learn of the death of a long-lost relative. Notes: It's heeeere! Spooky season has officially arrived and with it comes our annual spooky-themed soulmate story! Bringing our two canonical vampires together is going to be endless shenanigans. 🧛‍♂️🧡 Since this story is mostly set inside one of the mansions that I work in, we're planning on using photos of the house as chapter headers some of the time. Visual reference fun!
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"Hurry up and get your shit." The drunken bellow from downstairs is followed up by a loud crash, another curse and a thump as your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – continues to throw the equivalent of a temper tantrum. It hadn't been the first time you've fought, or that the asshole had threatened to throw you out on your ass, but the fist sized hole in the wall that had only been an inch from your face was new, escalating violence.
"Lazy, good for nothing cunt! I work all goddamn day and you couldn't even fucking do what I asked!"
It's not that you don't work. Or that you didn't work. But after getting fired four days ago following yet another day calling out of work to clean up some mess caused by your boyfriend, your manager had said it was the final straw and sent you packing. Since then you had tried to clean up the house, get the back-log of laundry out of the way, and at least make a nice dinner while you applied for new jobs. It isn't your fault that the neighbor's dog got into your yard and ripped a hole in one of his shirts on the clothesline. There is absolutely no way you could have done anything about it. But it is the thing that sent him over the deep end this time and has him screaming at you yet again.
Running upstairs was the best thing you could do to get away from his fist, and now you're just praying that you have enough trash bags in the house to cram your stuff into before he decides to come after you again. You'll be sleeping in your car tonight, but at least all the locks on the doors work. You can manage a few nights in a securely locked car. It's just...that you're not quite sure where you'll go after that.
The sound of the top to a Natural Light beer being cracked open sounds from the base of the stairwell and he takes several loud gulps. Belching from drinking too fast and hitting the wall with the flat of his hand. "Come on, bitch!" He calls out. "I ain't got all night!"
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pace back to the top of the stairwell and lean down so you can actually see him. Ten goddamn years with this man and this is how it ends. "I'll be gone by the time you get home," you promise him, the resignation obvious in your voice. He'll go to the bar to see his friends like he does after he eats dinner almost every night. You've never been the kind of girlfriend to stop him from seeing his friends, so they have had a routine for almost as many years as you've been together.
"Good." He glares up at you and points a finger. "You better not take any of my shit either." He warns you. "Tired of taking care of your stupid ass. You're in for a rude wake up call. Shit's not easy out there." He burps again and turns around to stumble down the hall. "You are such a disappointment." He yells out before opening the front door and letting it slam behind him, rattling the windows.
"Yeah." You sigh, shaking your head with one of those cheap fleece throw blankets in your hand. It has ballet slippers on it, a relic of a childhood long dream long forgotten. "I know I am." Holding up the blanket to look at it more closely, you debate throwing the damn thing out entirely, but it will keep you warm in the car tonight. It will go into a trash bag along with everything else.
As soon as the blanket is shoved in with your two miniature throw pillows, your phone goes off in your pocket. Expecting it to be Derek, ready to yell at you some more, you're surprised to see Private splashed across the screen instead. If you don't answer it and it is him for any reason, there will be hell to pay. "Hello?"
The smooth, cultured voice on the other end of the line is slightly raspy. As if the person has spent a lifetime swallowing brandy and smoking cigars, or had spent all day talking. In actuality, both of those things are true. Your name is spoken in the form of a question. Asking if he had reached the right person.
"Speaking." The automatic answer doesn't make you feel any less confused, but at least they aren't yelling at you. "Can I ask who's calling, please?"
"Antonio Colette," He tells you quickly. "With Colette and Dupree. I am calling about your late, great aunt, Etienne Brown." He shuffles through the papers to bring up the will that had been laid out, along with the investigators report on you. It was how he had found your current number. "I am executing her estate and quite frankly, it has been a search to find you."
"I'm sorry," you shake your head against the phone as though the man could possibly see you. "I don't know anyone by that name. My, um...I don't know a lot of my family. But that isn't a name I recognize. Maybe you have the wrong person?" There is no reason that any family member you've never heard of would have left you anything in a will, so he must have the wrong number. That's the only explanation you can think of.
"No, ma'am." He tells you. "I don't think I have the wrong person. Is this not a good time to talk?" He can hear something in your voice, and while most were always happy to inherit something, you might have pressing matters to attend to.
Hesitating for a reason you can't quite put your finger on, you glance out the window in the corner of your now former bedroom, the one that overlooks the driveway. Derek's truck is gone, and your shoulders slump a little. You have hours until he comes home now. Usually it's not until after last call. "No...no it's okay. I'm just...not having a great day. What did you want to speak to me about?"
"Ms. Brown was very particular about her will. As executor of the estate, it is my duty to make sure that her last wishes are carried out. As there is no other living relative on your mother's side, she decided that you would be the sole heir of her estate." He explains. "This includes the eight-bedroom mansion and the trust that has been established to pay for the manor. Her private accounts. The total combined monetary worth of twelve point two million dollars."
The crash that he hears from your side of the phone call is you falling over – a product of your legs giving out the second he said the word mansion and then losing your balance all over again at the sum total of the estate. "Wh—what?" You manage to breathe, barely managing not to break down in tears all over again. For an entirely different reason, this time.
"Of course, there is one issue that you must be made aware of." He's used to people being surprised, so he doesn't try to explain. You will soon be holding paperwork that you can read again and again if needed. "There are two tenants in the mansion. Ms. Brown has given them a lifetime estate on the rooms they occupy." He tells you. "Meaning they live there for as long as they wish."
"O—okay..." As fast as your mind can possibly turn, you still feel like you can't quite keep up with it, and you end up curled up at the foot of your bed hugging the throw blanket that was still in your hands when your phone rang. "So...I just...get a mansion? And twe—twelve million dollars? And the only caveat is that I have two tenants?" None of it makes any sense, but you'll be damned if it doesn't sound like the perfect way out of the hell that you've found yourself in.
“Pretty much.” Antonio agrees. “When would you be available to tour the property and sign some paperwork?” He asks, flipping over to his calendar to pencil you in.
"I—" Stumbling again, your forehead drops onto the pillow clutched against your chest before you tip your head back and stare up at the mottled ceiling. "I guess...as soon as I can get there?" It's not as though you have anything else to do at the moment. Or even anyone to tell where you're going. "But, can I ask? Um...where exactly is this house?"
“Newport, Rhode Island.” He supplies. “I must confess that I could not find a current address for you, just this phone number, so I am not quite sure where you are traveling from.
"Dandridge, Tennessee." Six years you've lived in this town and it never felt like home, but maybe now that's for the best. With a sigh, you try to think if you've ever even heard of Newport, Rhode Island and come up entirely blank other than knowing that Rhode Island is in New England. Which is a pretty decent drive away. "It might take me a few days to drive up there. Maybe two days? Depending on how late into the night I drive."
“That’s fine.” Colette agrees. “I will give you my number. If you find yourself here quicker than you anticipate, give me a call and I can meet you with the keys.”
"Okay." For a second the brief fear that your car might not even last a two-day drive flashes through your mind but you push it aside and let out a sigh in favor of sitting up to grab the pen off your nearby desk so you can take down the lawyer's phone number. "I...um...thank you, Mr. Colette. This is..." It's insane. It's completely insane and you can't even wrap your head around it. "It's life changing."
“I will see you in two days.” Mr. Colette responds and then ends the call before he sighs. Dropping his head into his hand, he rubs his temple. Whoever you are, he feels sorry for you. No way you know what the hell you are getting into.
******
The first night you're honestly exhausted, and you end up sleeping in your packed-full car behind the twenty-four-hour diner with the really nice waitresses that don't get upset that you need a safe place to park for one night. Telling them that you're moving had done the trick, and the extremely kind pair of women had gotten their line cook to whip you up a sandwich for dinner and one more to take with you when you left town in the morning.
The gps on your phone – thank god the bill is in your name – says that it will take thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes of driving. Deciding to go, go, go as best you can, you leave town at sunrise and end up crossing the border into Rhode Island at almost eleven that same night. Stopping for bathroom breaks and to gas up the car – plus traffic, of course – has cost some time, but you made it. Now all you had to do was make the last leg of the journey out to Newport. Surprised to find that Newport is actually on an island (didn't you learn at one point that Rhode Island isn't an island?) you pull into a truck stop to finally sleep for the night. You'll do the last forty-five minutes of the drive in the morning.
******
Feeling and probably looking like shit the next morning is the price you pay for getting here quickly, but you call the lawyer at nine in the morning when his office's website says it opens and arrange to meet him at the address he gives you. Bellevue Avenue just sounds fancy, and when you get to the island you realize why. This entire town seems filled to the brim with mansions, expensive shops, and swanky restaurants.
Antonio had been surprised that you had driven through the night, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. He gives you the address to his offices and tells his secretary to make sure that there is a good selection of bagels and muffins out this morning in case you would like something while you go over the paperwork. You are a very important client, and he would like to keep you if possible.
Tired and more than a little ragged, you pull your car up to the office on Thames Street and cut the engine with a sigh. There’s a lot of touristy stuff around, especially on this part of the island, and that means you haven’t seen a single dingy diner or fast food drive-up since you got here. Everything is expensive cafes and fancy restaurants. The thought that you might have to skip breakfast is discouraging until you walk into the lawyer’s office tentatively and smell coffee.
"Good morning." Raquel stands from behind her desk and smooths her pencil skirt down before she walks around the desk. Antonio and his partner prefer that she personally greet each client and she doesn't let her facial expression change from one of welcome when she sees the tired, beaten down appearance of the woman who walked into the door. Her heart clenches at the sight and even if you are not the client that he had been expecting, she will invite you to have some coffee and pastries while she waits for someone to work you into their calendar. "May I help you?" She asks as she offers her manicured hand to shake.
“I—I’m here to see Mr. Colette.” You give her your name along with the handshake she obviously expects, and try to shake the feeling that that smile of hers is probably plastered on. Of course it is. It’s first thing in the morning and she works in a law office.
"Of course." You are the important client, so she immediately waves you to the glass doors. "Please follow me." She tells you. "Mr. Colette is getting all the necessary documents together, but we have tea, coffee, bagels, and some delicious pastries available while you wait?" She wants you to feel comfortable as she walks you down the short hall to the smaller conference room where she had set everything up for the meeting.
“Thank you.” It doesn’t make one single bit of sense to you that they’ve gone through all this trouble, but this long-lost great aunt of yours must have been an important client. Maybe they think you’re important too? Well – they’ll be disabused of that idea pretty soon.
"Please let me know if there is anything I can get you." She senses that you aren't comfortable and she doesn't want to crowd you or do anything to upset you. "I'll let Mr. Colette know you are here."
There are a few minutes to wait, sitting in that conference room surrounded by food that you don’t dare touch, and you end up staring blankly at a photograph on the wall of a yacht on the ocean. It’s almost trance-like, how you sit there and stare, and you end up nearly jumping out of your seat when the heavy wooden doors open again and an elegant looking, well-dressed man walks through flanked by the woman who greeted you.
“Good morning.” Antonio smiles as he assesses the woman who had inherited a fortune and more. He is aware of the details of the will and the history behind it, so he feels like this is personal. “We will have quite a few things to go through, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to make myself a plate.” He chuckles. “No breakfast yet and I’m hungry.”
“Of course.” It’s a little bit like permission, and you feel comfortable enough pouring a cup of black coffee and putting a croissant on a plate for yourself when Mr. Colette motions for you to join him. In a few mere moments the three of you are sitting down at the conference table and Raquel presents her boss with a thick folder of paperwork in a leather sleeve and takes out her own notebook in turn.
“Now.” Antonio looks down at the paperwork and then back up at you. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” He starts off with. “Hopefully this transition will be seamless for you and perhaps after this I can show you around your new home?”
“It still doesn’t feel very real,” you admit, carefully sipping your hot coffee and looking down at the papers in front of him. “And you said there’s two other people…already living there?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Family friends of Ms. Brown.” He tells you vaguely.
“Alright.” Already you’ve made up your mind not to bother them, these people who live in a house that you’re inheriting out of nowhere. Who are you to intrude in their lives? “I assume there’s a lot of paperwork? I’ve never owned a house before so this is all new to me.”
“The taxes and the maintenance for the home are paid out of the trust. So you do not need to worry about that. If anything happens, call and we will take care of getting the bill paid.” He explains. “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering you debit cards and credit cards.” He pulls out an envelope and slides it over to you. “All of them are active and ready to use.”
So people really live like this, huh? is all you can think to yourself as the lawyer’s secretary also sets a card down in front of you that has a man’s name and phone number with the title of caretaker listed on it. That along with the cards already has your head spinning, but then a set of keys is set down on the table as well. Front door. Kitchen door. Terrace doors. Each antique key is labeled carefully with a tag in elegant handwriting. Closets. Attic storage. Utility closet. It’s so much to take in — too much, arguably — and then a set of car keys is added to the pile. “What’s this?” You ask, already starting to feel your head spin a little.
“This is the car.” Antonio tells you. “The 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that Ms. Brown also willed to you.” He hums. “I have all the maintenance records for the car here as well. Her other cars were sold or given away before she died, but this one conveyed with her other belongings to you. I believe she said, ‘it goes with the house’.”
“I—um—wow…” Not that you know much about cars, but it sounds impressive and you’re momentarily thankful that you’ve been driving stick for the last few years, since your broken-down third-hand Volvo came into your life. “Are there any more surprises I should be aware of?”
“I’m not exactly sure what you will consider surprises.” The lawyer chuckles and slides a scrap of paper towards you. “The combination to the safe. It’s where the collection of Ms. Brown’s jewelry is.”
A safe full of jewels, a presumably fancy vintage car, a mansion, and a literal fortune? Frankly, it’s all a surprise. “If this house comes with servants I might black out,” you warn jokingly, staring at the slip of paper with the safe combination like it’s a foreign language.
“Well, the staff is paid from the trust.” He tells you seriously. “If you wish to make changes, please let me know. Right now….” He shuffles some papers. “There is the housekeeper and her assistant, the gardener, the pool company, and the window washer.” He looks up. “The pool company and window washer come by once a week. The gardener, the housekeeper and her assistant are all full time employees.”
The dead pan stare you have for the man is completely slack, and it takes far longer than you’re proud of to shake off the embarrassment of staring at him like an imbecile. “You’re serious?” You ask in equal parts confusion and awe. “I was kidding.”
“I assure you, the help is needed.” He tells you seriously. “A house of this size could not possibly be managed by one person alone.”
“Right.” The best you can do is nod vaguely and try not to have a panic attack over the responsibility landing in your lap, and you look between the lawyer and his clerk again. “You said it’s…eight bedrooms?” That place must be a palace…
“That is…the main bedrooms.” Antonio admits. “That doesn’t include the old servants’ quarters, although they are not occupied now.”
“Fuuuuck…” Even mumbling under your breath is obvious, and the paper that is slid in front of you is a clearly labeled blueprint of the house. Four floors, distinctly marked 38,000 square feet, and with more doorways, closets, and stairwells than you can shake a stick at.
“I can understand that it is overwhelming, but the staff is prepared for your arrival.” You look panicked and he doesn’t think that’s a good thing. It’s almost as if you feel…guilty.
“Can I ask…?” Swallowing down the dear at how daunting all of this feels, you abandon your small breakfast and sit back in the uncomfortable padded chair you’re seated in. “Anything about Ms. Brown? What did she do? How did she pass?” Where did all her money come from? The fact is, you had never even heard of her, but she left you an entire life.
“Ms. Brown died at 91.” He’s a little surprised that you are curious, but you don’t seem to be the type of person that is overly greedy. “Complications of old age.”
“I see.” Jittery fingers curl the edge of one page and you bite your lip, trying to see if anything doesn’t fit. But it all seems to knit together properly, in a way that just accidentally benefits you in the craziest way possible. “And she was just…independently wealthy?” It seems unlikely considering your family has so little, but who knows? Anything is possible.
“Some of it was leftover from her wealthy soulmate.” He admits. “They never had children. Some of it was from investments. She was a smart lady.”
“She must have been.” It’s easy to just waste money, you’ve seen that firsthand too many times. “Well…I assume I need to sign things? Make the ownership…official?”
“Absolutely.” He cracks a small smile. “Sign your life away, is the saying.”
Raquel slides a stack of papers over towards you. “All the places for you to sigh are indicated with a tab.”
A dozen different signatures and initials go by like lightning and before you know it, Raquel is excusing herself with the stack of papers to make copies and file things away. “Is there…anything else?” You ask, tentative about what else there could even be.
“Nothing that I can think of.” Mr. Colette hums. “I had the housekeeper stock the pantry and kitchen with basic items.” He tells you.
“That was very kind of you.” Since you aren’t really sure what else to say, you take a determined look at the pile of keys in front of you and muster a smile. “Would you mind showing me the house? The drive was long and it would be nice to settle in.” The further you get from Derek and his reach, the better off you know you will be. Even if you had loved him as best as you could — it had never been enough. Maybe these next people won’t be too disappointed in you. Not the way he was, at least.
“Of course.” He would make sure that you are comfortable before he turns you loose on the house. Or perhaps abandoning you to it would be a more apt phrasing. “Whenever you wish to leave here. I’ve cleared my schedule for the morning.”
“There’s no time like the present, I guess? I can follow you in my car.” You have half a mind to ask if the other occupants will be there, but you can’t see how he would possibly know that so you put the question aside in your mind.
“Of course.” He can’t think of anything else that needs to be address. “We will file all of the paperwork with the probate court and you will be receiving new registration for the car and a title to the house in four to six weeks. Sometimes it does take a few months.” He warns.
“I can’t imagine I’ll need them with any kind of speed.” After all, you have no plans to do anything of importance. In fact, if you never do anything besides sit in your little corner of this town for the rest of your life and remain unnoticed by everyone, you’ll be happier for it.
“Well.” He hands off the papers to the assistant and stands. “Shall we?” He asks, motioning towards the door.
******
Even with the heavy traffic of downtown Newport, the drive from the Law Offices of Colette & Dupree over to Bellevue Avenue takes under ten minutes. You drive by a grocery store and a drug store on the way – both good things to know the location of – as well as numerous high end shops, restaurants, and cafes. There is a bustling town here and it looks like students, too. Young adults with stuffed-full backpacks wearing all manner of paraphernalia that reads Salve Regina University seem to dominate certain areas.
After what seems like dozens of affluent homes, Mr. Colette’s blinker turns on before one of many stone walls and turns left into a driveway. When you follow suit and drive through the front gate, you’re glad to be alone because the gasp you let out is audible. Chateau-sur-Mer rises up and peeks out from behind trees like a monument. More massive than you ever would have dreamed of, the stone-faced house points north with a beautiful, multifaceted landscape surrounding it in every direction. Three stories, with a beautiful back porch, and spires and a tower to boot, the house is offset by a gigantic weeping tree that you don’t recognize and an otherwise reasonably sized house in one corner of the property that seems utterly dwarfed by the mansion it otherwise guards. Caretaker, you remember after a second. There is a caretaker…and presumably that is where he lives? It’s just…you had already had trouble wrapping your head around it. But now that you see it? It’s just…beautiful.
The sleek Jaguar comes to a stop and Antonio steps out and turns towards the older, slightly perilous looking Volvo. He hopes that you will get rid of it, or replace it now that you have the means. He had watched it seemingly buck several times while stopped at traffic lights.
“This is it?” If your question sounds dubious, it isn’t meant to. Honestly you’re almost too flabbergasted to really wrap your head around everything. There are a few cars parked under a structure to the left of the house that you assume used to be stables, from the look of it. Now the small windows that show you inside give a peak at bumpers and break lights instead of manes and carriages. There are a half dozen cars inside that you assume must belong to the other occupants and the staff, with more empty spaces standing open before the gorgeous black and chrome sports car that you now hold the keys to. “I mean it’s…it’s so much room. I’m almost glad there’s other people who will be around a lot.”
“The property is safe.” He assures you. “There’s a surveillance system that you can access and a security system that nothing in the world can rival.” He chuckles at his own joke and motions towards the house. “Shall we go inside?”
“Sure.” Not that you understand why one little old lady would need such a hardcore security system, but you nod anyway and let the lawyer – your lawyer? – lead the way. The house looms, almost daring you to come inside, but you are faced with an ordinary carved wooden door when you actually get close.
"It was built in 1852. Or completed in that year." Mr. Colette tells you as he takes the large keyring from you to unlock the front door and hands the keys back to you with a small grin. "It was once considered a ‘cottage’." He scoffs. "Although I tend to think of something a little smaller as a cottage."
“This is about four cottages all stacked on top of each other.” Walking through the front door cloaks you in near-darkness immediately. When your eyes adjust you stumble up a half-dozen wide marble steps into a front hall that grows up and up and up into an atrium taller than any you’ve ever seen before. The staircase behind you looks like it belongs to the set of a BBC drama and the thick red velvet curtains hanging in the entryway feel more like an old proscenium theater than a house. But the warm carved wood everywhere and colorfully painted forest scenes on the walls are immediately cozy in their own right. “Oh wow…” Your eyes are wide as you look around. It’s…it’s stunning.”
“Any changes you want to make, you are perfectly able to.” The lawyer reminds you, although he couldn’t imagine wanting to change anything about this estate. The mixture of Victorian and Gilded age architecture is a perfect combination to make a gorgeous house.
“I really don’t think that will be necessary.” After all, people already live here. The last thing you want to do is intrude on other people’s lives. “So this is the Great Hall, I guess?” The floor plan that Raquel gave you at the lawyer’s office is going to end up being invaluable, you think, as you pull it out and inspect the drawing of the first floor.
“Yes.” While he’s happy you don’t want to change anything, your tone makes it sound like it would be rude to do so. “The kitchens have been completely remodeled, modern appliances, but they still kept the charm of the rest of the house.”
“And that’s…” You consult the floor plan when there isn’t an obvious appliance anywhere in sight. “In the basement?”
“It is on the lower level.” Guiding you into the house, he explains. “Heat caused by the kitchens was unwanted so after the kitchens being in a different building fell out of fashion, they decided to make sure the kitchen was in the basement to keep the rest of the house cooler during the summer months. There’s the elevator over here, if you wish to use that instead of taking the stairs?”
Mr. Colette motions to the left of the main stairwell, to a portion of the first floor with red and black patterned flooring, and down a hallway. Curious enough to be led around by the suggestion and also noting that the floor plan in your hands says Servants’ Hall for this portion of the house, you follow him tentatively and watch him open what appeared to be a regular closet door. Instead there is a metal grating behind it, which is also opened, and a carved dark wood elevator car stands waiting for you. The kind of thing that would absolutely get you killed in a horror movie, it’s surprisingly sturdy when you step into it and Colette closes the door and gate easily. He presses the ‘B’ button before you can even ask about stairs and the antique elevator jolts to life, headed downstairs.
“Don’t worry,” he sends you a reassuring smile. “The elevator is safe.” He listens to the clanking and feels the carriage start to slow down.
The basement of this house is not like any basement you’ve ever been in before. The enormously long hallway with red and black flooring identical to the hall upstairs seems to stretch and stretch, and there are more doors down here than you could ever fathom needing. But there are voices coming from a room just a few yards away and that is both comforting and nerve-wracking at once. Other people means you won’t be lonely, but it also means new needs, new demands, and potentially new people to disappoint.
“Mr. Colette?” A woman’s voice sounds, loud and clear with a thick Rhode Island accent, from the room and only half a second later a tall, slim woman with gray and silver peppered through her brown hair and glasses attached to a beaded chain appears in the hall. “We weren’t sure when to expect you,” she says with a thin smile. “And this must be the new owner.”
“Yes.” The lawyer who has spent many hours in this house smiles at the housekeeper and waves your forward. Introducing you by your first and last name. “This is Marjorie Taylor and Renee Green. They are the ones who keep the house sparkling and the linens fresh.” He explains. “Mrs. Taylor would also cook for you if you would like.”
“I insist on it,” Mrs. Taylor informs you, smiling in a sort of polite-but-curious way and she shakes your hand when you offer it. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” When you falter and repeat your first name, thinking that maybe she had forgotten it or something, she shakes her head and gives you that same amused, thin-lipped smile. “There are a couple of things we stay old fashioned about here,” she tells you. But leaves out that the contract she signed with the rather suave gentleman who hired her specified it. “I’m Mrs. Taylor. This is Renee. The caretaker is Mr. Taylor, and the gardener is Mr. Finchley. The whole staff live in the caretaker’s cottage on the grounds and we are always reachable except for our day off each week. The schedule is written out for you. I left it on the desk in the library along with the necessary phone numbers and other important information.
“You’re very thorough, Mrs. Taylor.” It comes out with a note of surprise and you drop your eyes to the floor, embarrassed. “I mean — thank you. It is very much appreciated.”
“It is my pleasure.” She assures you with a soft smile. “It will be good to have people in the home again.” The others that were here kept to themselves and were often not around.
“I’m just one person,” you assure her, as if to say that you won’t cause trouble or get in the way. Those were things that Derek accused you of far too often. Even if it is the job that these people have taken on — the job not cleaning and cooking and taking care — you would never want to be a burden or a strain on them. “And…I tend to be fairly low key.”
“Well, I hope that you will let us take care of you.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “We have been delighted to hear that you had been located and were coming. I am sure that we will find a way to rub along together.”
“I’m sure.” You say, trying to smile and be reassuring. These people seem to be expecting a boss, not a wallflower, and that isn’t what you are. “I’m very glad to have gotten the call.” That, at least, is true.
“Would you like breakfast after the tour?” She asks. “I can have a tray brought up to whatever room you choose, and Mr. Taylor would be happy to bring up any luggage and boxes you have.”
Renee nods. “I would be happy to help you unpack.” She offers.
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” You protest immediately, but both women give you such placid, polite smiles that you swallow your anxiety about butting into the house and replace it with fear of being rude. “I—I mean…thank you. That actually sounds very nice.”
“Our pleasure.” The elder woman assures you. “Perhaps later on, once you have settled in, we can go over your preferences.” She tilts her head. “For now, do you have any food allergies I should make note of?”
“None.” Just as soon as you shake your head though, something in your gut churns and the smell of Derek’s cheap beer somehow overtakes you out of nowhere. It’s like a sense memory you never needed, and you stammer inelegantly. “But I—I, um…I don’t drink. Alcohol, I mean.” You did before. A long time ago. But seeing what it did to the man you thought you were going to spend your life with has ruined it for you. Soulmate or not, you had really thought Derek was the one. But his one comes in a can.
“Yes ma’am.” If it sounds odd to her, she doesn’t make it visible, just nodding politely. “I will make sure you have a nice tray sent up, I know you will be tired from travel.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” “I’ll show our new resident The call buttons after she chooses a bedroom, so you’ll know where to bring her tray.” Colette assures the housekeeper with a smile. “We’ll just head back upstairs.”
“Perfect.” She smiles at the lawyer. “Oh, Max and Eddie aren’t here right now, so if you show her their rooms, just go right in.”
You thank both women again and follow Mr. Colette back upstairs, where he motions to the left of the hallway where the elevator is hidden and you end up in a room that is wall-to-wall cabinets. There are beautiful serving pieces and sets of China in those cases, as well as stunning crystal and glassware. If you ever throw a Victorian themed dinner party, it looks like you’ll be all set for dishes.
“The preservation society on the island has been itching to get their hands on this estate.” Antonio muses as he slows down to let you take in the vastness of the collection. “Ms. Brown always enjoyed thumbing her nose at them.” He chuckles quietly. “I believe that you would have liked her. She was a firecracker.”
“She had great taste.” There is a set of China in the cases that you keep coming back to — the intricate gilding and beautifully painted flowers utterly mesmerizing you for a few moments. There seem to be three different full sets of China here and two full sets of glassware. Every different size dish or glass you can think of is here.
“Now it is yours to keep and use however you wish.” He reminds you as he moves towards the display of real silverware.
“I think it’s actually harder to wrap my head around that now that I’m in the house,” you admit, trying for a laugh and just sort of letting out a huffed breath instead. On the floor plan, the door to the left of you is marked Butler’s Pantry and that seems like someplace you shouldn’t go. To the right, though, the plan says Dining Room. “This way next?” You guess? The door looks innocuous enough — it’s just a dining room. It can’t be that crazy.
“Wherever you would like to go.” Antonio insists as he pushes open the swinging double doors silently. The large dining room table with the massive set of three chandeliers dominates the room.
The gasp from your lips has you pretty sure that you’re going to be saying “Wow” a hell of a lot in this house, and every room just makes the feeling grow. From the forest green walls of the dining room outfitted with ornate carvings in dark wood – to the silver painted walls of the ballroom with its six foot high mirrors and gilt relief work on every wall panel. A parlor room off one end of the ballroom is all decorated in green silk fabric – even the walls – with clean white accents. Beyond that is a hallway with a stained-glass ceiling and a white marble floor that is decked in red leather sofas and contains huge white marble statues and paintings on the walls that are nearly life sized. The library is the most ornate yet, with carvings on every single wooden surface, lush carpeting and sitting space, and even a hidden door built into one bookcase. “Where does that go?” You ask immediately, too tentative to open it yourself.
“This, I believe, goes to the morning room.” He tells you, cocking his head as he thinks. “It has been some time since I have completely gone through the house.” He admits.
“Is it okay to go through? I mean the house is old but it’s not so old that it’s unsafe, right?” The idea of a door in a book axe is too good for anyone to pass up, especially you.
“Absolutely.” Antonio pulls the leaver to open the door. “Ms. Brown and her soulmate would spend quite I bit of time in this room. I believe it was her favorite.”
The middle section of the bookcase pulls toward you smoothly, allowing you and Mr. Colette to pass into a large corner room with enormous picture windows on two sides and built in bookcases on every other wall. Like an extension of the library there are books everywhere, a red leather windows seat that matches the sofas in the marble hall, and even intricate wooden shutters that close over the windows in sections to regulate how much light is let in. One side of the room is dominated by a large fireplace with yet one more large mirror set in the wall above it, and there are small statues all along the mantle. A billiard table takes up most of the space in the middle of the room, but a table and chairs and a desk also fit neatly with plenty of room to move.
“This house goes on forever,” you observe with a laugh of disbelief.
“It is one of the larger cottages.” He agrees. “In fact, it was the largest house until the Vanderbilts built the Breakers.” He imparts that little fact with a smirk as he looks around the room. “But I’ve always been fond of this estate.”
“It’s beautiful.” Having seen it up close and personal, you can imagine that photos don’t do it justice. It must seem crowded or busy in pictures. But in person? It’s like the house is hugging you. After another minute looking around the morning room, you follow Colette back out to the entryway and head upstairs. There is fabric, not wallpaper, hanging on the walls around the master staircase and it is painted with a forest scene that seems reminiscent of folk tales. Like magic could be lurking behind any corner or a satyr just might come out from behind a bush. There is a tree painted on the underside of the enormous staircase, trunk and branches extending upward to sprout leaves and welcome birds, and it crawls all the way up the stairwell to extend out to the ceiling of the second-floor landing and atrium. Dozens of little painted songbirds light on branches everywhere to make you feel like you have climbed into the forest that is painted on the walls.
“Every room has its own theme.” He explains at the top of the stairwell looking down the hallway at the doors. “If you don’t mind. I will step away to make a call.”
"Of course." Far be it from you to stop him from attending to his business, and you follow along the railing in the hallway to make your way into a different hall. This one is just a rectangular room with the now familiar built-in cases along the walls, paintings and intricate light fixtures above the cases, and six doors to choose from. To open them one by one seems like a massive intrusion, but you can't figure out any other way to see what else is up here. The floor plan marks four bedrooms on this floor as well as a sitting room and a nursery, though you can't understand why there is a nursery if there were never any children living here. Maybe your great-aunt and her soulmate wanted children but just could never have them? That's a far sadder thought than you can muster at the moment.
Hoping that you're facing the right direction, you open the door on the opposite wall from where you are standing and – yes, you had it right – the sitting room is full of plush chairs and love seats with a petite fireplace that has a huge flatscreen television over it where you assume a mirror once stood. The fireplace has a small stand inside it that obviously prevents fires from ever being laid, but more importantly seems to be the storage rack for multiple video game systems. Whoever Max and Eddie are, these other occupants of the house seem to thoroughly enjoy video games.
To the right of that room is a beautifully laid bedroom with honey colored furniture and homey gray and white pinstripe wallpaper. A writing desk stands at the ready between a window trimmed in lace curtains and a white marble fireplace, and it feels like exactly the kind of room that you would love to be brought to if you were a guest in someone's house. As much as it is sweet, inviting, and unexpectedly friendly, it feels…spoken for somehow. It’s nothing you can describe fully, but it makes you think that you shouldn’t disturb the room. Like whoever had claimed it originally might still come back one day to curl up in that bed or sit down at that desk.
There are two more bedrooms – one with furniture made of a wood that is somehow remarkably the same shade as roasted butternut squash and the other with a luxurious, if slightly gothic, yellow velvet and dark walnut loveseat and red upholstered chairs in it that all beg to be read in – but both rooms very obviously are occupied. These must be the rooms that Max and Eddie claimed whenever it was that they arrived. The next door to the left of Max's room yields a large, airy bedroom decorated in all sorts of shades and textures of blue with dark wood furniture and soft pink silk and lace curtains over the windows. A painting of a smiling young woman hangs above the fireplace with two lamps in the shapes of cherubs holding the light source aloft. Two cream-colored chairs sit by a small table and two more blue velvet chairs flank another. You could have a whole party in this spick-and-span room without any effort whatsoever.
“This is the one, I see.” Antonio has returned. Lingering in the doorway as he watches you move from Knick knack to knick knack with an almost dreamy expression on your face. “Let me show you the call system.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that I am needed in court.”
A set of buttons by the door to what you very accidentally have apparently selected as your room will summon a member of the house's small staff, Mr. Colette tells you, and there is a similar button on a handle by your bed, almost like the call button for a nurse in the hospital. "Don't let me keep you," you murmur, waving off another apology from the man who has literally swept into your life and changed everything about it. The last thing you want is to stand in the way of anything he has to do. "I'll, um...I guess I'll unpack."
As if on a secret cue, the door to the elevator opens on the other side of the hall and an ornate rolling cart, much like the ones at the posh hotels, rolls out. Your trash bags are all neatly stacked with the few boxes and the one bag you had managed to take from your ex's house. The older, stately looking man pushing it does not judge, his sharp eyes looking for the room where the new owner has decided to take up residence so he can help in any way possible. Renee is behind him, a fully ladened tray on another rolling cart.
You can hear them rolling down the hallway before you see them, and Mr. Colette smiles in satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, looking toward the doorway as the source of the noise comes into view. “If you need anything, you have your staff here, and my number. Please don’t hesitate.”
“Right. Thank you, Mr. Colette.” As soon as you say his name he disappears from view, and you’re left face-to-face with the embarrassing sight of your trash bags in this gorgeous home.
“I took the liberty of moving your car into the carriage house.” Mr. Taylor tells you. In addition to being the caretaker, he also maintains all the vehicles here. Your car is in sore need of some TLC and he is already itching to get to it.
“That’s very kind of you. You really don’t have to go through any extra trouble.” The sight of garbage bags just feels wrong in a house this old and grand, and it just makes you feel like apologizing for that, too. “As you can see it…it really shouldn’t take me too long to get settled in.”
“It just means you can rest.” Renee offers with a smile as she rolls the tray over to the couches and table. “Here, ma’am?” She asks politely.
"Hopefully it won't take too long to find a new job." The offhanded and automatic thought doesn't even phase you, although you don't enjoy the fact that you'll have to explain why your last place let you go. At least you can assure them that it won't happen anymore – since Derek isn't in your life there won't be any erratic or unexpected phone calls to have to respond to immediately. "Thank you, Renee. It...it all looks wonderful." Laden with a steaming silver coffeepot and fresh pastries with butter, jam, and fruit, the delicate China on the tray looks like it has been laid for a queen.
“My pleasure, ma’am.” Mr. Taylor quietly excuses himself, and Renee turns towards the cart with an eagerness to begin. “Do you have some specific organization for your things?” She asks, hoping to know how you would like things. “Or shall I organize them for you?”
Even if you had specific organization, it would no longer apply to this house. The feeling that everything should be in a specific place and that rooms have specific functions is very different from how you were living before. "I'm sure you'll know just where things are supposed to go," you tell her, with a definite air of 'because I don't have any clue'.
“Yes ma’am.” She nods and immediately whirls around to start wheeling the cart into the dressing room just off to the side of the bathroom.
"Renee?" Following her just a few steps and sticking your head into the dressing room, you have to swallow yet another sigh over how beautiful this house is and how grand everything seems at first blush. You shake it away, though, when her head pops up expectantly. "I don't suppose I could ask any of you to call me by my name, could I? Mrs. Taylor seemed rather set on using a title..."
“It— it’s not done.” Renee admits with a bashful smile. “Although Mrs. Taylor did call Ms. Brown by her nickname at Ms. Brown’s insistence.”
"She had a nickname?" For some reason that intrigues you, even though she had an unusual name to begin with. You've never heard of a woman named Etienne before.
“Cookie.” Renee smiles fondly. “She went by Cookie for as long as she could remember.”
"That's very sweet." And actually makes you smile too, though you can't quite figure out why it warms you through the way it does.
“Do you have a nickname, ma’am?” She asks curiously. “I am sure that Mrs. Taylor would have no issue using a nickname for you.”
"I—" About to protest that you really don't, or at least that you can't think of one, a long-lost memory gets dredged up from the bottom of your mind that you haven't given any thought to in a long time. "I used to like being called Dolly. Quite a lot."
“Yes Ms. Dolly.” The nickname is no more unusual than ‘Cookie’ and the smile that thinking of your nickname is soft and real as it makes you light up.
"Thank you, Renee." It actually relaxes you measurably just to have a little bit less formality, and you offer the girl another genuine, if small, smile.
"My pleasure." She turns back to the bag that is opened and starts to carefully remove all of the clothes to sort and organize into piles before she can fold or hang them. "I should have all of this sorted in just an hour or so."
"Please don't feel like you need to rush. It isn't like I have anywhere to go." The fact that someone else is doing your laundry makes you more than a little embarrassed but you try to remember that it's literally her job. "But...again...thank you."
She doesn't bother to remind you that it's her job, just humming quietly as she continues to make note of what you have that needs pressing.
"Renee?" Even after you've walked away, you double back to look into the dressing room where she is sorting through the things you brought from Tennessee. "Was, this...um...was this Ms. Brown's room?"
"It was, Dolly." She stands up and moves towards the door. "Does that upset you?"
"I...don't really know," you admit after a moment of thinking about it. "I think it's more that...I don't want to disturb it? Like if she had a favourite chair, or painting, or lamp or something, then I wouldn't ever want to move it." Saying it out loud makes you sigh, and you huff a laugh at yourself. "That probably sounds silly."
Her own laugh is slightly ironic. "Please don't worry about that." She assures you. "Ms. Brown loved to rearrange her furniture based off of how she was feeling that week." She tells you. "It drove Mrs. Taylor up the wall, but she would almost insist on moving most of it herself. Even up until a few years ago."
"Wasn't she in her 90s?" You ask, surprised to hear anything so active about the old woman who had lived here.
"She was spry." Renee can sense that you are eager for information about the older lady that had lived in this house. "She did love to pull the chaise in front of the windows and read." She tells you. "Especially on rainy days where the storm raged outside. She would sit with a pot of tea or hot chocolate for hours."
"God, that sounds so relaxing." And in a house full of books, who could blame her? You can't even imagine actually having the time to read every book you saw in the house while you were walking around. " I might have to follow suit for a little while. Just...until I find a new job."
Renee frowns slightly and tilts her head. "A job?" She asks. "Are you someone who likes to keep busy?"
"I guess—" It hadn't occurred to you that you could just not have a job, and that makes you frown far deeper than Renee is at the moment. "I guess so? I didn't really think...I've just always had a job. I didn't really think I'd ever be able to not have one..."
"Perhaps you have something you enjoy doing?" She asks. "Forgive me for being so forward, but you have the means to do whatever you wish now, Dolly."
"I guess I haven't really given it a lot of thought." That makes you frown again, this one considerably more confused, and you shrug your shoulders. "I won't bother you anymore. Thank you, Renee." It's a heady thought to chew over while you eat your breakfast, but it's something that you're going to have to think about. What did you dream about when you used to dream of growing up? You can barely remember anymore.
She doesn't want to pry, so she nods again and turns back towards the dressing room again. It's obvious that you are kind of lost and her heart goes out to you. Hopefully being here will make the sadness in your eyes disappear.
______
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asherashedwings · 2 months
Text
Hey chat, remember when I did that one charting pattern analysis on Pico and Darnell?
Well I'm doing that again. But with EVERY FNF CHARACTER.
Girlfriend
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Girlfriend, shocker, doesn't really have a pattern. This is mainly due to her being featured in only one song, and it's the tutorial. If we ever get any action from her in the future, then maybe we can find something then, but for now: no pattern.
Daddy Dearest & Mommy Mearest
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Okay, so they do have a pattern, and it's a shared pattern. I mean, makes sense, since they're kind of a package duo. It's kinda hard for me to explain, but they have patterns that tend to focus on the left and right notes?? If that makes sense. Good examples I can think of are Satin Panties, High, and Cocoa. Mearest more so than Dearest, but Dearest's base charts are also rather simple due to his week being so early. BUT! These patterns are apparent in his Erect songs! Namely Bopeebo. But yeah, patterns that are left and right note focused. Which -- and I don't know if this is just a coincidence or not -- seems rather fitting given the colors of those notes: red and purple.
Spooky Kids
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Another set of characters that don't really have a set pattern that I can distinguish. Although, I do find that rather fitting for them. Their lack of pattern matches their rather chaotic nature that's displayed in their show. They're just silly unpredictable guys.
Monster
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Okay, so Monster is just already so different from everyone else that it's just hard to hold him to the same standard. But he does have his own patterns! Namely a LOT of hold notes. Which makes sense due to the lingering nature of his songs. He's slow and eerie, so of course his charting would reflect that
Pico
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Okay, so I've covered Pico before. He does a lot of back and forth patterns. .... I could turn this into a super complex character analysis that is completely just my brainrot talking but I don't know if I should go there. I'm going there. Okay, so Pico's entire character in FNF revolves around him going back on the various jobs he's been given to protect Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Week 3? Backing out of his job to rap with BF instead. Week 7? Denying his mission yet again to save BF and GF. He's constantly going back and forth between his job and his morals. And it's not always clear which is the correct option. This same logic can also be applied to Weekend 1, except it's not him choosing BF and GF over his job -- it's him choosing them over his friends: Darnell and Nene. His character is just a constant cycle of back and forths.
Senpai
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Okay, so this fucker was the reason I first wanted to make a full analysis on all the characters. So, this guy I noticed, uses a lot of trail notes. And in my brain it does tie into his character and. Like. The only way that I can explain it is like. You know those videos of people arguing with misogynists, and the misogynist keeps cutting off the other person before they can make their point, and keep repeating the same thing over and over again cuz they think that's how arguments work? That's the same vibe I get from Senpai's trail notes. It feels like he's just. Repeating the same things over and over again cuz he thinks he's making a point. And just going on and on so BF can’t speak Idk. If that makes sense.
Tankman
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Tankman uses a lot of stairs. I had no idea what to make an analysis out of here, so to quote the wise words of @braveboiart ; "He's a bitch and I hate stairs." ACTUALLY! That is half right. Came up with this while replaying Week 7 for this post. Tankman is explicitly shown to be able to break the fourth wall, so it is entirely possible that in Ugh and Guns, he is purposefully using an egregious amount of stairs to just. Be a pain in the ass. This would also perfectly explain his switch up in Stress. He's taking BF and the player a little bit more seriously, so he starts to be a bit more genuine. Also, I would like to point out that he also uses back and forths a ton. Tankdad canon. ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE NOTE OF A LIL DETAIL I NOTICED WHEN PLAYING PICO ERECT
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Pico Erect shares charting from Stress. Realistically, this is likely just a lil reference to Stress since Pico made in appearance in that song but FUCK YOU, TANKDAD CANON.
Darnell
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Okay, so I've already gone in depth on Darnell, so this is mostly gonna be me repeating myself. Good to have everything in one place, yknow? Darnell has a progression of charting throughout Weekend 1. In Darnell, he starts out almost identical to Pico's charting, before slowly transition to his trail and double heavy charting through Lit Up and 2Hot. My analysis of this was the idea that he starts out the week mocking Pico; making fun of the fact that Pico chose to rap battle BF instead of killing him. But as the week progresses, he gets more into it and starts having fun with it, slipping into his own style.
And last but not least
Boyfriend
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Okay, so, surprise surprise: Boyfriend doesn't really have a pattern. But it's not cuz he just repeats everyone! There's actually a lot of moments where he freestyles, namely in the Erect tracks. But when analyzing those bits, there isn't really any set pattern. Which makes sense! BF is a go with the flow kinda guy. The charting he uses depends on what the moment calls for; what will outshine his opponent the most. I mean, his charting kinda needs to be versatile, given the variety of his challengers. So yea.
Uhhh... Hope y'all enjoyed my analyses. I'm gonna go pass out now (It is 4:36am at the time of writing this rn)
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Note
Could you possibly do head canons or a fanfic of Ghostface! Keigo(Hawks) x reader?
You have free creative control to what would happen and stuff like that (I just think the idea would be interesting) but you don’t have to do it if your not comfortable.
(Also I love your work)
Thank you so much!! (I"M BACK BITCHES FR THIS TIME! Also this is my very late Kinktober contribution because college is kicking my ass rn)
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He would wait until a day you knew he wouldn’t be home.
“Kei, I promise, it’s alright."
Your boyfriend whined into the receiver. “Yeah, but we had plans tonight."
“And sitting in front of the tv with a bowl of candy and some Jordan Peele movies tomorrow night will be just as lovely.” You reply. “Besides, you gotta protect us from all the toilet-papering teens terrorizing the city tonight.”
“Hardy-har. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Love you.”
“I love you back.”
Preferably at a time when your other emotions were likely to overwhelm any idea of his plans.
Setting the phone down, you allowed your body to slouch into a sigh, one final act of disappointment that you didn’t want your boyfriend to see.
While one could argue that you were technically used to his fluctuating schedule, it still didn’t make it any less disheartening when he was called in last minute on holidays. Of course, you didn’t let him know that.
Then he'd play with you just a bit, letting your sense of anxiety spike just the slightest by leaving the overhead skylight ajar.
Had he really left it open?
“Dumbass,” you muttered with a grin, quickly standing up to grab a ladder.
A chill rattled through your spine as you climbed, fall wind blowing through your hair and poking goosebumps in your skin as you pulled the window closed, making sure to lock it before wandering into the kitchen for an after-dinner snack.
A bowl of cereal was always an easy solution, especially when it was accompanied by a spooky flick and a comfortable bar seat at the counter.
Your phone would ring at exactly midnight, a voice he knew you'd find familiar, yet still unable to place, would answer.
Unknown Number.
"Hello?"
"Hey there," the voice was masculine and deep, like the sound had been covered with a sheet of gravel before being released.
"I'm sorry, who is this?"
"Oh, come on, don't you recognize me?"
"Uh, no. I think you might have the wrong number."
"No, I don't." Silence followed for a few moments, just enough for a touch of unease to stir in your gut. "What's your favorite scary movie?"
"I'm sorry?"
"You gotta have a favorite. I know you like them."
"And how would you know that?"
"Because you're watching one right now."
He also knew how well you liked horror films, how easily you would recognize the reference and think of the surprise call as a prank. Then he'd make sure to get your heart beating once more.
"I also know your boyfriend left the window open on his way out. That's dangerous, dontcha think? Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone with the door locked?"
"What do you want?" Fear shook your vocal cords, the question coming out in a ridiculously less forceful manner than you would've liked.
"You."
Being the over-protective boyfriend he was, you had been taught how to react to a situation like this beforehand. That just meant he had to move quickly, sliding a hand over your mouth to smother a scream and prying the phone from your fingers before you could even think of calling for help.
"Calm down, sweetheart." The masked figure tossed the voice changer away, black fabric tickling the rim of your ear. "I've got ya."
Keigo was thoughtful. He'd give you a moment of realization, and another to stop struggling, before forcefully turning you around and lifting you on top of the counter, one hand encasing both of your wrists and the other toying with the end of your sleep-shorts.
Eyes widening in shook, you took in the white mask in front of you. Lifeless black eyes and a horrifyingly exaggerated mouth, one that left the expression into one of pure terror for eternity. The dark fabric surrounding it just exaggerated that pristine look, one of perfectly untouched cartilage.
Still, despite its velvety presence, you recognized the hands poking out from the robe. Bronze skin kissed by years in the sun, interrupted by the lines of scars that you had spent countless nights running your fingers over.
The hands were warm, just as they always were, as they slid over your thighs, forcing them open before sliding underneath the bottom hem of your pajamas.
He would watch you try not to moan as he brushed his thumb over your clit, caressing gentle circles over it before pushing a finger inside. The soft whimper he earned made his cock jump.
"That's right, gorgeous." The masked figure slid another digit in, undoubtedly smirking as he felt you clench around him.
"I wanna hear you scream."
259 notes · View notes
esamastation · 11 months
Text
Part forty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.
Ao3 link.
Previous parts: twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one
-
The Turks have arranged everything. Sort of. The charcoal burner's house is long abandoned and remote, not close to any main routes, so it would be private. In the books, both Sephiroth and Angeal are taking part in a classified mission with the Turks, which has been approved by both the Director of the SOLDIER program and the Acting Director of the Turks. It would take someone higher up in the Public Security Department to delve deeper than that, and since the President had already given his seal of approval, there's not much even Heidegger can do about it.
"And Rude is bringing everything we'll need to survive," Reno finishes. "Starting today, your priority is sorting out whatever is going on with you, free of distractions, external stressors and hopefully of further incidents."
Sephiroth still seems to be stuck on the getting his shit together part of the mission and apparently isn't sure whether to be insulted or not.
Angeal clears his throat. "And what are we supposed to… do, exactly?"
"Hell if I know," Reno shrugs and nods at Sephiroth. "Figure you'd sort it out by yourself, with your new spooky… whatever it is you got going on. You seem to have some idea."
"Uh," Sephiroth answers. 
Eloquent.
Angeal runs a hand down his face. Then he laughs. "Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed. I didn't really think you'd do anything, but - I'm impressed." And more than slightly intimidated by the connections and liberties the Turks have, but that's not exactly new. "How long do we have?"
"Until further notice, or until someone back in Midgar gets antsy," Reno shrugs. "I'm thinking maybe don't worry about time. If you need more, we will arrange some."
Huh. "This is really that important, then?"
Reno gives Sephiroth a look and then looks at Angeal. "Yeah," he says, a deceptively easy answer.
That's… somehow a little disconcerting. Certainly Sephiroth is invaluable to the program and to the company, but this… this is beyond VIP treatment.
"I see," Angeal murmurs and clears his throat.
Sephiroth finally shakes himself loose from his surprise, enough to look first somewhat sheepish - and then intrigued. "So, I can do whatever I want here?"
"Pretty much," Reno agrees, without any care for how alarming the question is. "And if you need something to further your whatever, we'll get it for you."
"Nice. And there will be no other missions if I don't want to do them right now?" Sephiroth asks.
"You can do them or not as you'd like - none of them have higher priority than this, and they can be delegated to other people, if it comes to that."
Sephiroth runs a hand over his chin. "And if I want access to some material that might be to some extent classified?"
Reno narrows his eyes. "Like what?"
"Haven't decided yet," Sephiroth answers flippantly. "But it might come up."
"... Great. We'll review case by case when we come to it," Reno mutters. "Though you know it's a bitch to get stuff shipped here, right? We're on another continent."
"Yes, yes, it's very impressive," Sephiroth says dismissively and thinks about something for a moment. Then he looks at the charcoal burner's house with a discerning eye. "And you'll be staying here too?" he then asks, glazing at Reno. "To watch us?"
Reno shrugs, unapologetic.
Sephiroth eyes him for a moment and then turns back to the house. "Very well. It will do."
"... Awesome," Reno says and motions. "Go, make yourselves comfortable or whatever. I'm going to walk the perimeter and set some traps."
"Mmhmm," Sephiroth answers, already striding back into the house with a proprietor's casual confidence, and Angeal can just imagine the furniture soon to be rearranged inside.
He hesitates before following and looks at Reno. "What is this really about? It's not just that Sephiroth lost control, is it?"
Reno considers him. "Well, duh, no," he says. "It's the stuff he's been saying in between."
And the abilities he seems to be on the verge of developing. "What's the official view on what's happening to Sephiroth?" What are they expecting from him?
"There isn't one," Reno says and arches his brows meaningfully, and then turns to go.
Angeal's face tightens, and he knows he probably doesn't understand the implications… but then maybe he does. All this effort and all the stuff that's been going on… whatever it is, the company is looking forward to benefiting from it greatly. And they want no one messing with what is happening before they do.
Angeal thinks of the moment Sephiroth communed with the old tree the day before, and for a moment he really wishes it was Genesis here with him instead. Genesis would actually know how to handle all of this. Angeal isn't even sure if he can ask Genesis about this, if he can talk to him about this!
Never mind the fact that Genesis probably has his hands full with whatever is happening back at Shinra Building… the aftermath of Sephiroth's incident and whatever Professor Hojo was doing…
Angeal turns to head inside.
… Where Sephiroth has begun poking around the house, and, of course, is already moving furniture around.
"I see you are all for this," Angeal comments.
"I'll take all the extra time I can get," Sephiroth mutters while carrying a little table to the middle of the main room. "Though I am not exactly happy about being under Turk supervision, I'll take it over the alternative."
Angeal hums, looking around and then deciding that Sephiroth probably doesn't need - or want - his help in decorating. "What's the alternative?"
Sephiroth grimaces and goes to move a bookshelf.
Okay then. Ominous. Angeal sighs and sets the Buster Sword down to lean against the wall near the door, right beside Masamune. "You know they expect something to come from this. For you to… to make it worth their while."
Sephiroth half laughs and half scoffs. "I just bet they do," he agrees and picks up somewhat dusty cushions and considers them with a frown.
Angeal folds his arms. "Are you going to?" he then asks, worried.
Sephiroth pauses and looks away, dropping the cushions by the table in the middle. "No," he says finally. "I don't imagine I will. Regardless," he shakes his head. "This is the next best thing to a full-on seclusion, and I am damn well going to make the most of it."
Angeal doesn't know what that means, but it doesn't matter. "Okay," he says and draws a breath. "Guess we'll… just stay here for the time being, then."
Sephiroth hums in agreement. "Guess so. Does it bother you?"
"No more than anything else around Wutai," Angeal admits and looks up at the ceiling. "We were already looking forward to a prolonged stay in someone's abandoned home. This place is honestly an improvement."
Sephiroth relaxes a little. "Yeah. And hey, the people here weren't chased out or killed by Shinra. That's something."
Angeal looks at him curiously. "How do you know that?"
"The original owner left a scrap piece of letter behind. Apparently they were invited to the capital," Sephiroth says.
… Sephiroth reads the Wutai language? Huh. Angeal didn't know that.
"I guess that's good to know," he says and then sighs. "Okay, so. This… thing you're doing. Your energy alignment stuff. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?"
Sephiroth hesitates between moving some jars around and looks at him. "I need a proper cleared training area," he says and offers him a wry smile. "At least as big as the training room back at Shinra Building."
"I can do that, yeah," Angeal says. "Anything else?"
Sephiroth thinks about it for a moment before setting the jars back down. "I'll let you know."
Angeal nods and gets to it. There's not much he can do when Sephiroth refuses to trust him, but… he'd do what he could.
Hopefully by the end of it, it would be enough.
-
Time for a training montage.
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sunlightmurdock · 1 year
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🩸 I felt an autumn chill the other day and have been suffering from Spooky Bitch Thoughts ever since, so I present you with this idea that will not leave my head 🩸
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🥀 full idea under cut 🥀
Jake and Bradley are vampires, like full blown, Anne Rice style vampires. In the 1700s, they fall in love with the same girl and become almost a throuple type thing.
Jake can’t stand the thought of losing her and wants to turn her constantly, Bradley is very against the idea and won’t let it happen. The girl is involved in an accident and one way or another, is dying in front of them. They’re left with no choice but to turn her.
They have to keep her from her family to keep their identities safe. The people in the town think that Jake and Bradley killed her or whatever, so they move far away. She’s far from everything she has ever known and distraught.
As much as she loves Jake and Bradley, she’s terrified by what she is now. Rejecting the vampire life, refusing to feed, crying all day and begging some higher entity to let her go back to who she was.
They’re both heartbroken, doing anything that they can to help her adjust. Bradley and Jake are at odds about the decision they’ve made. She’s left on her own in their huge property one day while they’re arguing.
She comes across a maid, and she can’t help it, she’s just so thirsty. Jake and Bradley find her covered in blood with the dead maid in her arms. They immediately move to soothe her, telling her that “it’s okay, they’ll clean things up”.
Slowly, she starts to return more to her old self. Being affectionate with them again. They’re relieved. So relieved that even when she starts to have more and more ‘accidents’ that wind up with someone dead in front of her, they tell her that it’s not her fault and cover for her.
She goes from being this innocent little farm girl to a blood-thirsty monster in the span of weeks, essentially.
Jake leans into it at first. He likes the sex that they’re having, and he likes seeing her enjoy the new life he has given her.
Bradley’s more apprehensive but he’s got a soft spot for her. Even covered in blood, when she comes crawling into his lap, he can’t stay upset with her.
But things quickly spiral out of control. She becomes obsessed with the pleasure that her newfound life affords her. Both from feeding and from sex. As Jake and Bradley start to tell her no, she pulls away from them.
They’re furious to find out that she turned a local boy from a wealthy family, after finding her in bed with him. The boy is thrilled, and mentions turning more people, staying young and beautiful and feeling like this forever. In a rage, Jake kills him and they realise they’ll have to move again.
She runs away from the two of them. Jake and Bradley part ways and spend the next two hundred years heart broken.
After setting up home in southern coastal California, Bradley lives a reclusive life in a big house, searching for purpose. Jake turns up in the middle of the night in 1984 and tells Bradley that he’s been following her, cleaning up her messes to keep her safe this whole time.
She has been turning people freely across the world, leaving families missing loved ones constantly. But she has been leaving a trail and now someone’s following her.
ik this / something very similar to this has been done in vampire literature before but I just can’t stop thinking about how sexy and scary it could be
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thecountesstribe · 2 months
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HOTD 2X6 Review and Spoilers!!
Another slow episode. The episode dragged especially considering it's currently down to the last 3 episodes of the season.
Alicent got booted off the council, LMFAO. I don't take pleasure in seeing women suffer but older Alicent earned her shit, it's what she gets. Larys thinking he was gonna be named the hand of the Regent King LMFAO. Aemond said get your toad looking ass tf on and go call my grandfather. That was smart as much as I hate to admit it. Aegon definitely remembers his brother trying to kill him though. Larys is going to be protecting Aegon from now on because he knows that they can't control Aemond, I'm mad I gotta say something decent about him but he's actually thinking with his brain. The green council is still in a mess and divided and they know Aemond is going to be a tyrant king, hell Alicent knows and she's still somehow shocked by the monster she created like she didn't have a big part to do with him harboring his worst qualities and helping him mold into it. Delusional I tell you. The small folk are suffering already and got on their asses though, the only thing I didn't like is Helaena getting caught in the crossfire again. Another Daeron mention and did they just subtly hint at Criston being his father? Meaning Alicent was really sleeping with him before Vizzy T kicked the bucket? The writing for the show is all over the place, my God.
We were a diva down and I didn't like it one bit. WHERE TF WAS BAELA?! Like we saw her husband but where was she? Ugh. Rhaena and Joffrey sighting. They were so cute! Rhaena is still trying to convince herself she doesn't need a dragon to be important 💔 and Joff just wants his momma. Nettles looks like she's officially scrapped. I'm so pissed. They could've totally given Rhaena something else to do in the meantime, they didn't have to merge Nettles and her story together. Wtf Sara and Ryan?! This is why people say there is a Team green bias and they aren't beating those accusations. What does this mean for Rhaena hatching Morning? There were four eggs does that mean she still has a chance to do it? I'm so mad. Then again after what Dumbass and Dunderhead pulled in the final seasons of GOT why tf am I surprised!
We saw baby Stormcloud!!! I never realized how much I missed seeing baby dragons on screen. It's like having baby Viserion, Rhaegal and Drogon back. My heart did a little quick thump. He was so derpy too 🥺🤣 How Aegon's supposed to get away on him is beyond me, he's literally the size of a kitten. The timeline is so messed up as well.
Daemon is still in spooky land and although I'm over it, I understand it's a culmination of all his regrets and things he wishes he could've had and done differently. We saw Vizzy T and that scene where it showed Daemon wanted to be there for him, he just didn't know how.... Man I kinda teared up. At the end of the day Daemon just wanted his brother's love and approval, he went about it in the wrong way because he's chaos personified but that's what it was always about to him. Vizzy T was his parental figure, his everything really and man 💔. Miscommunication trope strikes again. Him and Alys becoming friends even though she's the one that's tormenting him wasn't on my bingo cards. Somebody come get Caraxes outta there, I know he's bored asf. Every time we catch a glimpse of him he looks more and more over the entire thing. 🤣
One of the highpoints of the episode was Seasmoke. Dragons have personality y'hear me. More of that! Seasmoke is a whole clown 🤣🤣🤣. Why would he do Ser Steffon like that? I mean sure he got a little cocky but intentionally bending his neck for him to get on and then essentially saying “BITCH YOU THOUGHT” AND THEN BURNING THEM TO A CRISP?!! He was so funny for that 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭. He said “get y'all mid looking asses on” I already got eyes for one person and he's so real for that. You guys think he used to have dragon conversations with momma Meleys about picking their riders? We know dragons pick their riders as much as riders claim their dragons but do you think Meleys taught him if the unfortunate should ever happen make sure and pick the baddest of the bunch? We know Meleys picked Rhaenys as Rhaenys picked Meleys, that was confirmed. Meleys said Pretty Women Only and do you think she told Seasmoke to get him a pretty rider to match his aesthetic if the need ever arises? I know Laenor hatched him but Laenor was pretty asf. Seasmoke saw Addam smiling on the beach once and said “yeah I gotta have that” plus it helps that he has dreads, a pretty smile, a pretty face and looks like Corlys. He said welcome back Laenor Velaryon. Addam being Laenor's brother makes it hysterical as hell too, I'm creased LMFAO. He didn't have to chase down Addam like that but I respect it, he saw what he wanted and shooters shoot. I too would chase down Addam until he accepts my advances and affection, Seasmoke been eyeing him for awhile.
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Corlys is officially the hand of the rightful Queen of the 7 kingdoms.
We got canon bisexual Rhaenyra. Although I wish she was kissing another beautiful Velaryon instead, Laena I miss you so much baby, that was for me. Her and Mysaria kissing before Jace and Baela is egregious to me though. I'm just saying why everybody locking lips before the main og star couple?Rhaenyra smacking men, 100000s across the boards. She should've been doing that sooner but better late than never I suppose. That lady is still in her resentment of her husband era. Her face when Jace said they needed Daemon 🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭 She's sick of hearing about that man. He's right btw, Rhaenyra go get him, he's out there giving our diva Simon grief. Mysaria actually helping her with PR and actually giving her great advice. I love women supporting women! Her sending food with her banners for the common folk was so politically savvy. Mysaria being one of the few that is actually coming in clutch to help her to win the war 😉. I still don't trust her though, something about this entire thing tells me it's gonna end badly for her. I'll enjoy them trauma dumping and bonding on one another before the shit hits the fan though. I know doomed Yuri when I see it. Jace and that one guard immediately knowing something is up with both of them is sending me though. She took off at the end of the episode to go confront her ex-husband's new dragon rider and Syrax about to be screaming at her dragon ex husband too apparently. 🤣🤣
Since they're essentially changing the entire plot and the leaks that I thought were written like fanfiction might actually be true could we get Jace surviving the battle of the gullet? It's not slated for this season but I'm here to spread my agenda. Since we're essentially fucking canon atp instead of in certain scenarios and all this for Bran the broken to sit the Iron Throne (I'm still fuckin disgusted and furious at that btw, fuck you D&D) could they switch that shit up? Let's come together and manifest it guys.
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Until next week guys. I better see Baela, Rhaena, Jace and more dragons though. I'm here for them and them only.
And another thing, could you guys stop leaking shit. I block words and myself from certain pages and sites but y'know how stuff still slips through the cracks. Have some decorum and etiquette please!
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bkatlips · 11 months
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Ranking and explaining my rankings of Mike Flanagan’s shows and how they make me feel in honor of spooky season and just finishing Usher!! Why not!! Everyone else is doing it!! I’m also going to give it a gay score based on how gay they are (which also includes how big of a role gay characters played).
Disclaimer: Every one of these shows is well-made in one way or another and deserves to be watched based on whether someone else finds the premise interesting and not whether I liked the show. Too often I see “that show was bad to me therefore you shouldn’t watch it” and I disagree with that line of thinking.
1. The Haunting of Bly Manor-I can already hear people screaming “Hill House is better!” In some ways, yes! In some very important ways, however, I disagree. The biggest being Bly Manor emotionally resonated with me a lot more. The themes, the found family (as someone who is an only child), and of course, the lesbianism. Dani’s story of compulsory heterosexuality may be one of if not the best in media and her love story with Jamie ended up being one of the best media has to offer, too. And really using a horror story and turning it into a love story is kind of brilliant (and annoying for the people who were just there for the jumpscares I guess). Don’t get me wrong the show has flaws (why the FUCK do Peter and Rebecca have so much screentime? was that eight episode really the best placement?) but the stuff that lands, really really lands. I’m still thinking about Dani and Jamie 3 years later. Hannah’s episode was very well done. The kid actors little Amelie and Ben were phenomenal. Upon rewatch you notice most decisions and dialogue in the show were made with some purpose and it usually relates to something thematic. Some people may say it doesn’t really have one defining central thesis therefore making it messy, but to me the fact it has many themes actually makes it more fun to think about. Gay score: 100000/10
2. The Haunting of Hill House-A horror classic that got me into Flanagan! This is Flanagan’s best series as far as making you pee your pants. That hat man is just scary! The character work is nice. Those first 6 episodes are incredible. Perfect. The thing that brings it under Bly Manor for me is honestly the ending. It left something to be desired for me. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but it just did not conclude in such an emotionally resonant way as Bly Manor to me. Shout out to the Newton Bros because the music on this damn show (and Bly too but that’s basically Hill House music continued) is so so good. Also the character work is masterful because Shirley Crain is kind of a bitch but you do come to love her. In fact, there wasn’t a Crain I didn’t feel for. They’re deeply fucked up, sympathetic people. It’s a great show with some great thematic work but it just doesn’t speak to me quite as much as Bly, that’s it. I know that’s unpopular but it is what it is. A great good show nonetheless. Gay score: 8/10
3. The Fall of the House of Usher-This show is wild and honestly I couldn’t decide between ranking this one or Midnight Club third. I went with this one because the acting and technical stuff was so phenomenal. I’m not really into gore horror so this wasn’t like my thing on the surface but I do appreciate what a homage to Poe it is in the very limited knowledge of Poe’s work that I have. It was fun to see all the cast from previous shows back again especially T’nia. One of the downsides to this show is it doesn’t really make you feel a lot and so compared to the Haunting shows for me that makes it inferior for sure. But it’s a fun watch and honestly I need to rewatch the final episode because I had a hard time paying attention for that one. Gay score: really fucking queer/10
4. The Midnight Club-Ah Flanagan’s little dud. This one is really not very loved compared to the others, seems to be just about nobody’s favorite, however personally I liked it. I think people are a little unfair to it and while it may not be Flanagan’s best, I don’t think it’s awful. It doesn’t really tackle anything new when it comes to themes. There’s some death, grief, stages of acceptance, and cult stuff. I think the way it has these kids telling stories to deal with their reality was really brilliant in a way. There was one episode (six I think) that dealt with depression and suicide that made me sob and I thought was super well done. That one stuck with me.I think it would have benefited from a more likeable main character and also from the second season that was planned! Gay score: 6/10
5. Midnight Mass-To be honest, I probably could have gone without watching this show. It just didn’t really resonate with me and didn’t really entertain me save like the very last two episodes. It’s technically well-made and I appreciate what Flanagan was trying to do and convey with the danger of cults and religion. It was obviously a very personal project and was him working through his own experiences but it wasn’t for me. It had a few too many monologues and I don’t think monologues make an interesting character piece. However, it’s a critically acclaimed work so I recommend anyone who wants to check out Flanagan’s work still check it out! Especially if you like weird vampire stuff I guess. Also the acting especially from the priest was phenomenal. So there’s definitely pros to this show, but it didn’t add anything to my life for me! Gay score: 3/10 :/
Also, shout out to Mike because every single one of these shows is queer to one degree or another. He loves the gays! Ally! Bisexual wife probably helps too!
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demvalhaken · 14 days
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Hiiiiiii!!! Here’s some art!!!
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This is Lizard, she’s a Western Hornet, don’t ask why she’s named after a lizard cus I literally don’t know
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This is Björn, they’re very silly as they’re a Northwestern Hornet. I don’t know what gender to make them so they’re just they/them for now
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The queen of the Southern Hornets herself, Sykra, she’s not named after anything I just came up with that name. I decided to put metal bands in her hair cus it looks cool and she’s cool. She’s actually really nice for a queen, like Snow, but Snow is a Wasp… and also on the entire other half of the world as in the Eastern hemisphere of Catecis
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This is Queen Luna, she’s the only one not smiling… yeah… it’s because of her lore… I don’t know what to do with her yet but she’s a really inexperienced queen
This is a really random lineup of ocs, they don’t have anything to do with each other like at all
Also if you didn’t know, I fixed their ocelli to be in upside down triangle position because that’s anatomically correct for insects
To be honest, this was for more design purposes, as I needed to redesign (Lizard and Luna)/have a concept to go off of on (Björn and Sykra)
I’ve come to love hornets, despite all looking different and being from different regions, they still all bleed the same. Wasp blood is blueish green while Hornet blood is more of a bright green or yellow, might change it later though. Wasps were before Hornets and Bees, and then Hornets and Bees evolved from Wasp ancestry. That’s also why most of them have sharper jaws because Wasps have sharp faces even to this day
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I forgot to put this in my last post but this is concept art for General Whiteclaw, leader of the Waspian Sea Forces. There’s no colours on this but imagine the colours of an Executioner Wasp on her. The reason why Wasp eyes have different irises/pupils from everyone else is because it just makes them more insect-like and I think it looks cool.
Also look at that jaw, It’s giving Hornet.
Guys is it weird that everyone I’m friends with IRL is ghosting me, not my bestie pookie bbg Purpsie though who’s my online friend. Like, huh, they don’t even look at me no more. Mmm I love my depression that I’ve had for years cus everything happening to me IRL just fucking sucks. My mother literally won’t let me get short hair cus she wants me to have long hair, like bitch what, it ain’t yo scalp, so you shouldn’t care. I wish my parents weren’t literally homophobic and transphobic, cus if they were actually really nice and let me have my own goddamn privacy, I’d actually want to be around them. I don’t give a shit if “you’ve seen it all before,” it’s still wrong to invade MY PRIVACY WHEN IM SHOWERING OR USING THE BATHROOM, I THINK I’D LIKE TO KEEP MY BODY TO MY OWN EYES MOTHER AND OLDER SISTER, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. They don’t even do this with my older brother bro, why does he get privacy, and not me? Just another thing to add to my list of things that make me really really not well! Also my mother touches me a lot… so… yay… I guess… please end my suffering… my mother would totally kill me if she found out I was trans and liked women, oooo spooky, trans men, so scary (Sarcasm)
Anyways, I love you guys!!! Remember to be a menace to society, just don’t eat churches cus the wood is so scrumptious like you’re a termite!!! If you have any questions, you know what to do
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Zenix’s little tangent in Episode 35… doesn’t entirely make sense. Or at least I don’t like parts of it and so I’m gonna bitch.
Tw I speak a little bit about abuse and cults at the end.
Zenix: “I’m sure garroth told you… didn’t he? How he found me? He must have… you were always his favorite. Isn’t it funny how he found me around the same time the old Lord was murdered?”
That’s just the beginning of it, of course.
But… Zenix saying this doesn’t really… fit.
SKs kill people in order to gain immortality (typically guards who kill their lords, but it’s established in episode 31, Criminal Brains, that it’s not only guards and not only lords). This is usually someone they knew in their human life, that’s just how it’s always been with SKs, that’s the whole… tragic romance of them. Whoever they dedicated their mortal life to will be the sacrifice to their immortal life.
Whether Zenix is saying he showed up in Phoenix drop shortly before or after he killed the lord is nothing to me, because either way, it’s clear they don’t have that bond. Even Azura states that Zenix swore himself to GARROTH. And the later established lore that sks have permanently red eyes after killing their person doesn’t even apply to Zenix in this case, because he had brown eyes the entire time we knew him, up until they clearly decided that he was the one who murdered the old lord and scrapped Vylad’s involvement.
Because up until this point… all evidence pointed to Vylad. From flashbacks of him standing outside of the old lord’s house with a flint and steel to Sasha basically outright saying it, everything has pointed at Vylad. And I’m not saying twists are a negative, red herrings are fun, but nothing good ever comes when you mix jesson and red herrings… clearly. So this was just… not a good twist. I’ve been keeping track of a lot of stuff and there just wasn’t enough for me to justify it as something pre-planned. But if someone else has another opinion I’m happy to hear.
This is something they do a lot with Zenix. Even with the original reveal that he was a bad guy, they retconned Brendan’s statement of events to make him look worse. They turned Zenix using him like a human body shield into Zenix going out of his way to hurt Brendan, though it didn’t need to be done. It just made him seem unnecessarily cruel.
And now they’ve retconned who killed the old lord to make Zenix look worse again. And I think this is because Jesson cannot cope with moral ambiguity.
Vylad and Zenix are the two most morally ambiguous characters up to this point. Zenix has an evil lean, no doubt, but a lot of his actions lack any known motivation, especially his kind actions, or moments when he does things that are objectively good but… we don’t know why, in order for us to actually understand his moral compass. Sure he is evil-aligned, but he is clearly not fully evil. He has shades of grey… and so does Vylad. Vylad clearly has a good lean, but we don’t know enough about him, and we know he is evil-aligned (he is shown to be peers with Gene and Sasha in earlier episodes) so it’s very… vague. Hazy. Morals? Questionable.
But then Jesson went— HOLD UP! Make Zenix explicitly bad by stating that he was the one to kill the old lord because he wanted immortality… and make Vylad explicitly good by stating that he was the one who hindered Zenix from killing more people.
It wss more interesting when Zenix was just some guy who did bad stuff and had an unknown backstory, and some people rooting for the good in him.
And when Vylad was spooky as fuck.
But that’s too much nuance, give a clear morality to the gay men.
Dont make SKs interesting by giving Zenix red eyes for attempting to kill the man he dedicated his life to! No! Don’t expand the lore by making it obvious that the reason that SKs have to kill their loved ones is to mirror cult/abuse tactics that distance the victims from any real support system they could have to escape! Dont give Zenix red eyes even though he failed at killing Garroth because the bond between them is irreparably damaged despite Garroth’s denial of it! Don’t do that! That’s too much nuance!
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