#idkhow masterlist

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter IV: Break Your Pretty Face

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

song(s) for this chapter: no remorse by metallica, hate you by boston manor, choke by idkhow, let’s talk about your hair by have mercy

chapter tags: swearing, drinking, meanish!eddie, angst | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

summary: everyone seems to be lobbying against you, in favor of the kid that put your brother in jail.

a/n: inspo returning rapidly, don’t let me burn out now.

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj comment/message to be added!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

“Chris.” You give him your best death glare, arms crossed tightly against your chest. “Talk.”

“In my defense,” he stands from his spot on the floor. “I thought he’d told you years ago. I didn’t think to follow up, I thought it was just, y’know, common sense.”

You scoff. “And you think Eddie has that?”

“Y’know what, kid? Yeah, I do. Eddie’s a good fuckin’ dude. Granted, I guess I can see why you wouldn’t think so under these circumstances, but I have to let him explain that to you. I couldn’t begin to understand that choice.”

It’s like he’s speaking in riddles. What could there possibly be to explain? Eddie testified against Chris to save himself. Case closed, he’s a selfish bastard. “You gotta go see him, Bee.”

“Why do I care?”

“Come on, you care a little. You two used to-“

“Shut up.” You grit your teeth. “You haven’t been here. You have no fucking clue what happened to us.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. You’re dropping me off though, I’m not wasting gas on this bullshit.”

He nods, unhooking his keys from his belt loop. “Well,” he gestures to the door, “After you.”

-

You get to Eddie’s trailer in what feels like record time, causing you to frantically rehearse what you want to say to him. You have no idea what Chris has said, why he’s so adamant that the two of you speak.

“Call me if you need a ride home, ‘kay?” Chris unlocks the passenger door. “And please, don’t kill him. I know he looks tough, but that kid’s the biggest softy I know.”

You groan, rolling your eyes so hard you’re sure they’ll get stuck. “I can’t guarantee I won’t at least try to kill him.” You mock his tone from earlier. He shoves you playfully, and you swing the car door open.

Eddie’s underneath his van, an old piece of scrap metal on wheels at this point, and you can hear him grunting as you approach him.

“Careful now, don’t want her wound too tight.” You gently kick his foot, and he slides out from under the vehicle.

“Back for revenge?” Eddie slaps his hands together to wipe off the excess grease he’s accumulated, then stands to better greet you. He turns the music on his stereo down, some obnoxious metal song you’re sure he thinks is super artistic. “Look, I know you probably didn’t want me taking care of you, but I wasn’t gonna just leave you there to pass out on the floor.”

“I just want some answers.”

“Yeah, alright.” Eddie wipes the sweat from his forehead. You can’t help but take him in, white t-shirt covered in black soot, coveralls pulled down low on his waist. His hair is tied back, revealing his soft cheeks and metal clad ears. He catches you staring and waves a dirty hand in front of your face. “Hello, earth to Tweety?”

“Stop calling me that.” You huff, fists clenching at your sides. “No one calls me that anymore.”

“That’s why I like it. But fine, what d’you want me to call you?”

You glare at him. You know he’ll come up with a multitude of nicknames that will make your stomach flip with rage if you give him that freedom. “Bee’s fine.”

“Aw, c’mon, everyone else calls you Bee.”

You shrug. “Shoulda thought about that when you betrayed my trust forever.” He’s too invested in your banter, and you catch him off guard.

“Wow, right to it, huh? No ‘How’re you, Eddie,’ no ‘Sorry I puked all over your shoes, Eddie.”

You flush. “I puked on your shoes?”

His facade breaks, and he grins wickedly. “No, you didn’t. But I had ya for a second.”

“Ugh, can you be serious for like, five minutes? Then I’ll leave you alone forever.”

“Forever, huh? Sounds way too good to be true.” You can’t explain why his words sting. You feel them in your throat. Eddie plucks a joint from his ashtray and pats his many pockets. “You gotta light?” He asks, filter between his teeth.

You pluck your bright yellow lighter from your sweatshirt pocket, offering it to him. “Thanks, Bee.” He winks at you, and you fight the urge to start walking home. He puffs on the poorly rolled joint and offers it to you.

“No, thanks. I only smoke with friends.” It’s a low blow, you recognize that, but the frustration in your chest is building to an unbearable level.

Eddie clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me.” He pouts, batting his obnoxiously button-like eyes. You have to look away.

“Well, you said you wanted answers. Let’s see what I can provide.” He hops up onto the hood of his car, feet dangling above his license plate. You stay planted in front of him, posture tense as you debate how to approach the topic. “Why doesn’t Chris hate you?”

Your question throws him off. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Munson. You testified against him. I’d be counting down the days til I got out so I could get your ass if it were me. How- why are you guys still friends?”

Eddie shakes his head, inhaling yet another hit. “Chris is just not that guy, I guess. Maybe he had time to think in the hole.” His response is completely unconvincing, and you roll your eyes for the millionth time today.

“That’s bullshit.”

“Okay, you know what? He told me to do it. Said it would keep me out.”

A pregnant pause. Then, shrieking, “And you just listened to him?!” Your voice is octaves above natural, growing more piercing by the second. “Friends don’t do that! They don’t betray each other.”

“Look, Bee, I don’t know what you want from me. An apology? Fine, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I listened to Chris and got him locked up, I’m sorry I’ve made you fucking despise me. I was eighteen, barely fuckin’ legal. I had no priors, no guidance. I had no one to ask for some goddamn help— besides Chris— so I trusted him. If I could go back and change it, I would. I’d rather have him hate me one hundred times over if it would mean a good relationship with you.” He stops abruptly, lips pressed together tightly like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well, you can’t.” A weak response, mumbled to the floor.

“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie cranks the music back up, slamming the door on your conversation. It’s another loud, angry song. “You can go now.” He turns his back to you, and you can’t even bring yourself to ask for your lighter back.

-

“I can’t fucking stand him!” You’re pacing Robin’s room back and forth while she watches with wide, deer in headlight eyes. “He has the fucking audacity to tell me my brother asked him to snitch? He really thought I’d believe that?” You turn to Robin, and she gapes at you. “Hello?”

“What? Oh, sorry. I don’t know, Bee! Think about it. Chris took Ed under his wing. They did everything together.”

“Yeah, you think I don’t know that?”

She shrugs. “I’m just saying, it’s a valid reason to hate him. He was treated more like Chris’s blood than you were sometimes. But, I dunno, I don’t think Eddie would lie. Not to you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Robin sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “God, it’s kinda crazy that you can’t see it. The way that kid used to follow you around like a lost puppy, the way he still looks at you now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You’re in no headspace to consider what she’s saying, not after what you learned today.

“Please, Bee! He had no fucking reason to take care of you. He wanted to.”

You groan, flopping back onto her bed. “I don’t trust him. I can’t.”

“Yeah, it’s him you can’t trust.”

You sit with it, let it eat you alive, but you don’t respond.

-

Steve arrives at his and Robin’s shared apartment with pizza an hour later, and offers both of you a fancy IPA that’s supposed to “enhance the flavors of the sauce.” You snort at his pretentious delivery, but accept the drink anyway.

“What did I miss?” He flops down on the couch between you and Robin, remote aimed at the television.

“Nothing much, Bee just learned some very earth shattering news.”

“What?” Steve whips his head in your direction, eyes frantic. “What god awful thing did she tell you about me.”

Robin snorts. “Dingus, relax. Not everything is about you!”

You snicker, and pry a piece of pizza from the box, cheese stretching across the table. “But now I wanna know what would make you this nervous if she did tell me!” You fold the pie before cramming a bite into your mouth.

“No, we’re not changing the subject. What happened?”

You glare at Robin for bringing it up. Steve has a tendency to worry when things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows with his friends. He knows you and Eddie aren’t close, but he appreciates your mutual ability to remain civil. “Robin thinks Eddie has a thing for me.”

“Eddie definitely has a thing for you.” Steve says without missing a beat, unfazed by the bomb he’s dropping on your head.

“What?”

“What? Is this not common knowledge? I’ve known for, like, months. I dunno if it’s a crush, per se, but there’s… something. You can’t tell me you had no idea.”

You definitely did not have any idea. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be, that doesn’t make any goddamn sense! He treats me like shit, like I’m the most annoying person on the planet. He never invites me to hang out with you guys, we haven’t hung out alone in, like, six years. You're making shit up.” You cross your arms, waiting for the argument that doesn’t come.

Steve shrugs. “He knows you don’t like him. Or, he thinks you don’t. I know better.” Steve winks at you, and you stick your tongue at him. “He’ll probably never admit it, but if you just pay the smallest bit of attention to the way he acts around you, you’ll get it.” Robin nods in agreement, like she’s known this all along.

“You guys are traitors!” You groan, taking another messy bite of pizza. “Can’t believe my best friends are telling me the most dreadful news possible right now.”

“Oh relax, drama queen. It could be worse, I could tell you all the things he’s told me about you in middle school.”

Your eyes feel like they pop out of your head. “What the fuck did he tell you?!”

Robin giggles. “Don’t worry about it!”

You flip her off, and she throws her head back, cackling.

—

The Hideout is dead. It’s a weeknight, and the only people at the joint are the same five drunks you’ve grown quite fond of over the last few years. There’s Samuel, a construction worker that’s been on the same job for the last two years with almost nothing to show for it; Jack, the executive supervisor of some uppity tech business in Indianapolis that’s yelling on the phone outside most of the time; Suzette, who comes in on Sundays to watch the game, and Mike and Mark, the old gay couple that tip you really well and call you Dolly.

“More Jack, Jack?” Your perky disposition makes the suit smile ever so slightly.

“Make it a double, darlin’.” He jabs the END button on his cell grumpily, and you pour his whiskey neat into a fresh glass.

You’re about to ask him what’s got him upset, he usually isn’t here during this late, when the door swings open with a creak, barely drowned out by the song blaring over the speakers, one you’d chosen to let off some steam that is very quickly finding its way back.

It’s as if the universe is out to get you. Eddie holds the door open for his date, a date that is certainly not Chrissy Cunningham. This girl looks more like Morticia Addams and a tattoo machine had a baby, and you wonder if this was who Robin had been referring to. She’s stunning, covered neck to toe in intricate ink you could play iSpy with. Her hair is long, dark, and silky, swaying down to her butt. Did this woman lose a bet? Why is she here with him?

He catches you staring and has the audacity to wink at you, pulling a chair out for Morticia. You quickly avert your eyes, suddenly fascinated with the stains on the bar. It’s not two minutes later that you feel his presence in front of you.

“Hey, Tw- Bee. Funny seeing you here.”

You don’t respond to his attempt at conversation. “What do you want?” You deadpan, trying to keep your expression blank. Uninterested. Cold.

“I’ll have a beer, Red Stripe if you got it. The lady wants a martini, extra dry.”

“‘Course she does.” You think you say it quiet enough, but the tilt of his head tells you otherwise.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch, Princess?”

“What? Nothing! She just looks like the type, y’know? Fancy.” You cringe. Luckily, Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“She’s so cool, right? Name’s Macy. Met her at a gig.”

“Uh huh. Here,” You hand him his drinks. “Would you like to open a tab?”

“Nah, this is only our first stop.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “And, no offense, this isn’t really an ideal date spot.”

His words knock your brain around. “Date, huh?” The words catch in your throat. “I didn’t think Eddie Munson went on dates.”

Eddie falters, but recovers quickly. “I’m full of surprises, Sweets.” He slides the drinks off the bar, slapping a 20 on the table. “Keep the change. See ya ‘round.” He kisses the air in your direction, and your fist clenched tightly around the soda gun. You spray yourself in the face with club soda, and grit your teeth to keep from screaming.

—

Your shift is crawling by, your only company until eleven being the cook and the seven patrons, two of which you’ve been staring daggers at for the last hour. Someone has queued a slew of slow, sad songs and you have a suspicion Suzette is still sulking about the Colts’ loss.

Eddie and Macy are lost in conversation. He’s staring at her with a stupid, lovesick expression you wish you could slap off his face. She seems enamored, sipping her second martini without ever breaking eye contact with him. It drives you up the wall. As if hearing your silent prayers, Eddie pushes from the table, and holds out Macy’s coat for her to slip her slender arms into. He slips his own leather clad arm around her waist and make their way to the door. You’re almost at ease, finally, but he stops abruptly and pivots on his heel, coming right at you.

“Hey,” He calls, leaning over the bar as you whip around, busying yourself organizing the fridge. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” You don’t turn around, stacking used glasses on the dish rack.

“Can I ask the front of you something?” His voice is teasing. You turn back to face him, finding his face far too close to yours. Behind him, Macy’s tapping her foot in annoyance by the door.

“Make it quick, you're keeping her waiting.” You nod in her direction, but he brushes it off.

“You ever… think about what could have happened? Y’know, with us? If things were different, I mean.” You can smell the beer on his breath, he’s so close.

You shrug. “Not really, no.”

His face falls for a fraction of a second before he recovers, stoic.

“Right, yeah. ‘Course not. See ya, Bee.” He waves weakly, then steps forward to hold the door for Macy, disappearing into the Autumn night and leaving your brain feeling like TV static.

—

You get home around 3am, dragging your sore feet over the threshold with a heavy groan. The apartment is quiet, save for the gym of the TV coming from Chris’s makeshift bedroom in the den. He’s out like a light, snoring obnoxiously as reruns of The Simpsons flash multicolored across his face. You tiptoe past him, into your room where you all but collapse on top of your bed, still fully clothed. Eddie’s question plays on repeat in your head, much to your frustration. Why does he even care if you think about him? Why would he ask you that?

You’re pondering whether to tell Steve when your phone starts ringing.

You can’t hide the exhaustion, wishing you could just curl up and pass out. Steve knows you’re awake, knows you just got home. “Hey, Stevie.”

“Hey, Bee. You okay?” Worry laces your friend’s voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He hesitates, you can hear his breath stutter into the receiver. “Well, I got a cryptic text from Eddie. He told me he did something stupid, was wondering if you had a clue what he was talking about?”

You roll onto your back, groaning into the phone. “Is this really that important right now? Eddie’s dramatic, we know this. He didn’t do anything worth panicking over.”

“But he did do something?”

“Ugh, no! He was drunk. Asked me if I ever thought about him, if we could be friends I guess.”

“And what’d you say?”

“I was honest. I said no.”

“Shit, Bee. That’s cold.”

“What, should I have lied? Told him we could’ve been best friends if he hadn’t snitched on my brother?”

There’s a lilt in Steve’s voice. “Is that a lie?”

You bite your lip, thinking. Maybe you and Eddie could’ve been friends, but there’s no use dwelling on it. “No, it’s not. I don’t like to live my life through what ifs.”

“Okay. I get it. I mean, I get what you’re saying. I get his worry too, though.”

You roll your eyes despite his inability to see you. “Okay, Steve. It’s late. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Yeah, alright. Sweet dreams, Bee.”

“‘Night, Stevie.” You click the END button and place your phone on the nightstand. After a struggle to get up, you quickly change into your pajamas, swearing you’ll shower in the morning, before flopping back into bed.

—

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

And welcome to the SECOND, updated intro post of mine! I figured that 1. I wanted to branch out a little, and 2. that I could update you guys on stuff as my accounts have grown a LOT in the last year! [About me, my fandoms, rules, my other socials, DNI, and other fun stuff under the cut.]

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Hey! I'm Jamison, I'm a gay trans man, and I'm here to write trash about things I like! I'm 18, and I go by he/him and it/its pronouns. I'm American and currently live in America as well, unfortunately.

Here are some things I like!

Musical Artists: Will Wood, IDKhow, ICP, MSI, Queen, The Correspondents, Tom Cardy, The Living Tombstone, The Happy Fits, Glass Animals, BBNO$, Fox SZN, Jack Stauber, Fall Out Boy, and Mother Mother.

Movies & TV Shows: The Looney Tunes Show, Yokai Watch, Kakegurui, The Disastrous Life of Saiki K, Archer, Bob's Burgers, The Amazing World of Gumball, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and The Lego Batman.

Video Games: Team Fortress Two, The Stanley Parable, Minecraft, Undertale, Bendy And The Ink Machine, and Bioshock.

Some Random Things About Me:

I like cheetahs and opossums a lot. Writing and baking are two of my favorite hobbies. I'm currently learning German, Spanish, and Mandrin. Fall is my favorite season. Yellow roses are my favorite flower, and yellow (and red) are my favorite colors!

Time to talk fandoms! My favorite thing honestly. Right now I'm currently into:

Team Fortress Two

Postal, Postal 2, Postal 3, and Postal Brain Damaged

Pheonix Wright - Ace Attorney

Undertale

Sam and Max

The Stanly Parable

FAITH The Unholy Trinity

I don't currently write for all these fandoms, but honestly, if you want, feel free to send in an ask about any of these fandoms and I might get around to it! But as for the fandoms I am currently writing for, Postal and Team Fortress Two take those spots.

Asks are open! Headcanon requests, inncorrect quotes, short fics, x readers, all are fair game!

I am a uh... little bit behind on asks, so please be patient with me! I promise I'm trying my best to get to all of them!

As for rules, anything regarding the following will be automatically deleted:

i will not write anything meant to condone, fetishize, or romanticize incest, pedophilia, grooming, or rape/sexual assult. I will not write anything like this, period. I flatout refuse to write something that makes it seem like any of those things are morally right or are desirable and attractive.

Tumblr - You're here already!

Instagram - Jamison_writestf2trash

Tiktok - Jamisontf2

Youtube: Jamisonmakestf2trash (for edits) Professionaltf2yapper (future long form content!)

BlueSky - jamisontf2.bsky.social

Twitch - Jamisonwritestf2trash

Carrd.co - Jamison's Carrd!

Discord - jamisonwritestf2trash

Ableists

Bigots in general

Conservatives/ Republicans

Homophobes

Nazis

Pedophiles

Proshippers

Racists

Terfs

Transmeds

Transphobes

Transphobia Deniers

Zionists

You are not welcome here. You will be blocked.

If you made it this far, you must really like me. Would you please sign my petition? I promise its worth it :)

Go on...you know you want to.

[barringtonishigh]

𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚎 <𝟹

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Hi! I'm Barrett. Welcome to my account! It's primarily a fan account/fanfiction page for: The Academy Is..., Fall Out Boy, iDKHOW, This Is Ivy League, and The Young Veins. HOWEVER, I have a lot of other interests that I post about, such as Ultra Q My Chemical Romance, Ben Schwartz, Wendigoon, and Pink Floyd. My fanfiction masterlist will be linked at the bottom of this post!

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Some info about me: My name's Barrett, but I often go by Bear or Barrington. I use he/they pronouns, and I have relapsed metastatic Ewing Sarcoma. I love music, drawing, writing, the sims 4, making kandi, going to concerts, and my friends. My dms are always open for new friends, and my inbox is open for anything, especially requests (though I suck at doing them in a timely manner). I'm pro-palestine! I'm bi/ace and trans masc.

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Some random fun facts about me: Before I went to WWWY, I'd only seen big artists above the age of 70. I met my best friends of four years on instagram/wattpad (ik) because of Ultra Q (Hello Beni and Emilio!). I'm a Make-A-Wish alumni! As of 11-13-2024 I have the most listens on FMbot for Grantchester Meadows by Pink Floyd by over a thousand plays.

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My main tags: #bear's faves - my favorite things/people! #barrett speaks and speaks and speaks - my og posts (I forget to tag this one a lot.)

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My fanfiction info

My masterlist

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[aces-come-in-spades]

NOBODY LIKES THE OPENING BAND!: CHARACTER MASTERLIST

Please read all of the following information. This covers some basic in-universe mechanics and provides enough background information to interact with the characters, as well as some info on the characters themselves.

(btw. obligatory fuck you ryan seaman before we continue. i dont support that dickhead <333)

BE ADVISED: HEAVY RELIGIOUS THEMES, SUICIDE, AND GENOCIDE ARE DISCUSSED BELOW!

Nobody Likes the Opening Band! is a non-sequential series of fanfictions inspired by the bands I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (idkhow) and Waterparks, and draws places, people, and other elements from each band's respective lore. Currently only one work, The Paris Manuscript, is being written. It is available to read on AO3. There is a planned second work, Nobody Likes the Opening Band, that will eventually exist.

Nobody Likes the Opening Band! mostly revolves around the plot of the second work, with the Manuscript serving as a sort of prequel. In Opening Band, a new family moves to the town Ryan Seaman lives in, and Ryan is determined to learn what secrets their son Dal is hiding. In the process of trying to uncover Dal's secrets, Ryan discovers Gloomtown, an anti-Purgatory where certain souls who suffered a great deal during their lives or whose lives were cut off before they could have much meaning go to rest before the end of the world. Gloomtown is also the world's source of magic.

In order to fully learn the truth about Dal, Ryan is forced to team up with his ex-friend and current arch-nemesis Awsten Knight, and Paris, a spirit from Gloomtown whose attatched himself to Awsten.

Gloomtown has an incredibly powerful energy that leaks through to Earth, where it soaks into the DNA of random people and mutates it. This mutation allows the person, once they are born, to inherit magical powers once they are 13. Powers can be literally anything.

PASCAL "CAL" PHYLLIS (#cal phyllis)

the only child of the couple that adopted ryan. he has a soul of gold and the strangest humor you've ever seen. his particularly likes to joke about being a capitalist (he is anything but one). also a fantastic matchmaker despite his inability to get a boyfriend! he just wants to kiss someone :<

the only main character without any magic powers. he makes up for it by being the best fucking cupcake baker you've ever met.

(he/him, gay, no magic. birthday october 4.)

likes: baking, eldritch horror, cats, playing pranks hates: messy spaces, tea fun fact: he starts out by crushing on dal but eventually loses interest. rumor has it he's secretly dating a boy named mikey way ;)

PARIS EVANGELINE (#paris)

harley's youngest and most difficult child. he's a shapeshifter and is a (literal) being of chaos.

he was born with his soul outside and detached from his body. he wears it on a chain around his neck, but since this is unnatural he's not quite right. using his powers drain him so he's almost always tired, but he tries to hide it via masking. also his wings don't really get used because flying drains him way more than magic.

due to all of this (and all the bullying his siblings did to him when he was younger, they are incredibly ableist and a few are homophobic) harley wouldn't let him out of gloomtown until one day, they introduced star to paris! at which point paris and star basically became a did system. (more on this when we get to star)

in order to stay alive, paris has to take pieces of human souls and attach them to his soul. he likes to latch onto certain people he really likes and refer to them as his host. at the time of nobody likes the opening band, awsten is paris's current host.

he's super duper flirty and touchy and emotional. and also wears whatever the fuck he wants because he's trying to appeal to humans and to him this means showing off a lot of skin, so he wears crop tops and shorts a lot (he loves them dw)

(genderfluid but often presents as male, pansexual, universal manifestation of chaos. no known birthday.)

likes: raising a ruckus, geese, gummy bears, cuddling hates: whaaaaaaaaat? hating something? impossible! he would never! ahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!! fun fact: he started out as my version of waterparks' character soulsucker but he literally turned into an oc this thing is nothing like the real soulsucker.

STAR AVALON EVANGELINE (#star)

paris's guardian.... demon? ghost? spirit who is basically an alter. when paris is stressed/anxious/upset or physically injured/in danger star will assume paris's physical form while paris takes on star's ghost form. star basically gets to have a body for once while paris recovers.

star is a gloom, a type of demon that was created to originally oversee and care for gloomtown. harley wasn't very big on them, seeing them as useless since harley was the new ruler of the place, so all the glooms were wiped out. star had snuck out and was exploring earth and thus escaped death, but they were captured on return and given to paris as a protector. one of star's wings was ripped out of their back, so they hide their wing under jackets cuz they're embarrassed to have anyone find out about this.

due to all the shit that's happened, star tends to close others off and acts incredibly hostile towards most people. they're really only soft towards paris and anyone that is a host/close to a host.

sometimes calls themself avalon for fun

(they/them, aromantic, the last gloom in gloomtown. doesn't actually have a birthday but likes to celebrate it on november 2.)

likes: no one knows hates: everything, if their attitude is anything to go off of fun fact: star was the st*rfucker to soulsucker. again, it got way out of hand <33

HARLEY EVANGELINE (#harley)

a seraphim who, while fallen, never actually committed any sin. they were punished by getting reassigned to ruling gloomtown, and they wield this authority mercilessly. their divinity is what allows gloomtown to affect humans and give them magic.

somehow, they managed to give birth to 100 children.

there really isnt much known about them. they present themself as a benevolent and kind figure, but they hide a much more sinister and cruel personality

(they/she, aceflux, guardian of gloomtown. no known birthday.)

likes: no one knows. hates: no one knows this either. fun fact: they were inspired by bart harley jarvis from idkhow's music video for the song "WHAT LOVE?" (bart is this pink illuminati pyramid thing)

honorable mentions

RYAN SEAMAN: the protagonist of Nobody Likes the Opening Band and Cal's brother. He wasn't born with the Gloomtown DNA mutation, but accidentally fell into Gloomtown while conscious and met Maxx, a very temperamental snake who followed Ryan home and bit him. Ryan now has fangs and can discharge deadly venom by biting, but he usually tries to avoid using this power. Also, Maxx lives in his skin as a tattoo. LIAM FORD: ryan's ex-best friend, who killed himself when he was barely even thirteen after escaping the clutches of tellexx, a research company that had kidnapped and tortured him one summer. he now haunts the town as a ghost.

honorable mentions open for asks

AWSTEN KNIGHT (#awsten): (he/him, bisexual) the local spellcaster, enchantment weaver, and potion-brewer with a fondness for doing the most insane and impulsive shit you've ever seen. he's also paris's current host and claims that paris is a little bitch (which he can be, to be fair). he and ryan used to be friends, fell out after liam's suicide, and some time after dal moves to town, they become friends again before they eventually start dating.

DALLON "DAL" WEEKES (#dal weekes): (he/him, straight) harley's favorite brat, who went "MIA," so to speak. for a few years after extracting his powers from himself. ryan, awsten, and paris had to work together to return dal's powers. He is known as vengeance, and his magic allows him to summon knives that inflict death or a curse on anyone pierced by one. he's also suffered a lot of emotional abuse and experiences a good deal of religious guilt.

[suhnandmoon]

suhnandmoon's intro

my name is sunny!! the strongest advocate for loser heeseung you'll ever find! i write for enha + nct dream. my inbox is always open to chats + requests

any pronouns ✧ twenty one ☾ intp ✧ aroace (?)

･༓☾ ults: renjun, heeseung, yves

･༓✧ other groups i stan: loona, red velvet, day6, and basically every group. these are just my favs

･༓☾ other fandoms: bsd, genshin, persona, sonic, ninjago, waterparks, idkhow

･༓✧ additional: i mostly am on tumblr to post, i don’t read a lot of content on here and im not the best at keeping up with my moots </3 i want to make more mutuals on this app so lmk if u wanna be friends!! howeverr i try not to interact with nsfw content 😭

masterlist / fic recs

[eli-is-an-idiot]

updated intro :D

eli, it/he, minor

fanfic masterlist!

the basics

eli is short for elias (named after bouchard)

he and it are interchangable, don't just use he/him

terfs and ace/aro exclusionists go and fuck yourselves, you're not welcome here

@ev-enhotterthanyou (whose intro I am blatantly ripping off, sorry about that <3) is my official husband <3

i will reblog anything and everything

sometimes, i post a lot of untagged rants in a row, and they often are quite emotional - 90% of the time i'm overreacting or just using tumblr as a void to scream into to get the feelings out. i'm almost always completely fine, so please don't get worried if that happens!

where to find me

my writing main is @eli-writes-sometimes

my ao3

my letterboxd

my spotify

interests

films - cornetto trilogy, star wars, deadpool and wolverine, peter pan goes wrong, christmas carol goes wrong, venom, ghostbusters, the princess bride, the blues brothers, i saw the tv glow, lotr, superman (1978)

shows - house, arcane (haven't finished it yet), severance (only on season one) the flash (arrowverse), agatha all along, doctor who, jeeves and wooster, graity falls, bbc ghosts, make some noise, game changer, have i got news for you, the goes wrong show, detectorists

books - andrew joseph white books (hfwu, tsbit, currently reading compound fracture), lord of the rings, pride and prejudice (reading it for school),

audio dramas - tma, tmagp, camp here and there, stella firma, re:dracula, the amelia project

theatre/musicals - shoot from the hip, epic the musical, hadestown, ride the cyclone, shakespeare

games - disco elysium (currently playing), mouthwashing, minecraft, pathologic

music - classical (i'm a flautist), will wood, mcr, the mechanisms, fish in a birdcage, miracle musical, toby fox, south arcade, deep purple, kula shaker, måneskin, sparkbird, the longest johns, arctic monkeys, ajr, blue öyster cult, mindless self indulgence, iDKHOW, daniel thrasher, queen, marina, the crane wives

other stuff i like - formula 1 (mclaren specifically), writing, playing the flute (and piccolo) in an orchestra and band

always feel free to talk to me/tag me in things :D

main tags:

#eli's writing stuff - general fanfic stuff

#shoot from the fic - my sfth fanfic

#eli's concert shenangians - my concert day liveblogging

#normal planning notes - collection of the silly notes i make as i plan my fics

that's it, thanks for reading :D

[tr-nsvestite]

lyrics that hurt so so bad masterlist

“it wasn’t kind, it was kind of boring”-downside idkhow

“now that we really even mind; we’re just bored you’re still alive”- how it’s going to be - gerard way

[miles-is-so-gay]

🎵Album Palette Masterlist🎵

🎸 iDKHOW (1981 EP, Bleed Magic, Do It All The Time, Razzmatazz) and half•alive (Now, Not Yet)

🥁 Panicland (The Edge), Blame Candy (Pathetic), Olivia Rodrigo (Sour), and mazie (the rainbow cassette)

🎹 Fall Off Out Boy (So Much (For) Stardust) and Asunojokei (Island)

🎺 iDKHOW (Gloom Division, Modern Day Cain, Choke)

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[xxfanfictioncollectionxx]

I Dont Know How But They Found Me - Masterlist

Most of the stories linked here are reblogs from other creators. This masterlist is mainly for me to find stuff quicker, and those of you who might want to take a quick look what you can find on here.

General Masterlist

Dallon Weekes

Sticky Notes Part 2

Winter Stories - December 1st

Ryan Seaman

One Love

Prompts 13, 52, 2, and 90

Prompt 142

Winter Stories - December 8th

Winter Stories - Dececmber 11th

12 Days of Christmas - Day  9

Somebody Else

Winter Stories - December 30th

'Cause Heaven Knows What You Do To Me

No Courage

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

The Rarest Sexiest Masterlist

The Rarest Sexiest Claimed Emoji list  - for those who want to leave a little calling card on their requests 

** all works will be attached as they are posted - so the most recent fic for a person will be at the top of their list. The exception is for dated writing challenges (i.e. Kinktober) where the works will be posted in date order in their own masterlist, which will be linked here**

Any follow up parts to fics will be added next to the original fic, formatted like this: 1 | 2

Works marked 18+ are marked that way for a reason. If you’re under 18, I can’t stop you reading things. But you don’t have the right to get pissy if something comes up you can’t handle. You have been warned.

Requests are currently: OPEN

MCR:

MCR (collective): 

The Early Hours | Get Hot and Feel the Butterflies (18+) (Frank, Mikey)

Understand 

Frank Iero x reader:

The World is Ugly

Anything For You

Just Tattoo of Us 

Don’t Even Think About Moving

Is That My Hoodie?

Subtle as a Brick | The Elephant in the Room

Gerard Way x reader: 

A Hazy Shade of Winter

She’s Cheer Captain and I’m Questioning My Gender (high school AU) 

Mikey Way x reader: 

Boy, You Look Like Death (But Healthy Guys are Such an Eyesore)

New Jersey, Revisited | Best Friends, Better Off as Lovers (18+)

The Voice of Reason

Happy Accidents

Ray Toro x reader: 

All I Could Ask For

Impatient (18+)

It’s All About Perspective 

Twenty one pilots: 

(Currently not open for requests)

Josh Dun: 

Overreaction

IDKHow: 

Dallon Weekes:

*nothing to see here... yet*

Ryan Seaman:

Rehearsal

Kinktober 2022 

Requests are currently: OPEN

Here are the basic rules for requests.

Go wild 👀

[robinrunsfiction]

MASTERLIST

Updated 8/23/2022

My Chemical Romance

Gerard Way Stories

Frank Iero Stories

Mikey Way Stories

Ray Toro Stories

Danger Days AUs

Fall Out Boy 

Patrick Stump Stories

Pete Wentz Stories

Andy Hurley Stories

Joe Trohman Stories

I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Dallon Weekes Stories

Ryan Seaman Stories

The Umbrella Academy Stories

Miscellaneous

Valentine’s Challenge 2019 - Perfect and Beautiful (Taylor Swift x Female Reader)

Had a Little Bit But I Want Some More (Werewolf!Adam Lazzara x Female Reader smut)

Untitled Jim Adkins Coffee Shop AU (Jim Adkins x Female Reader)

My stories can also be found on AO3 under robinrunsfiction

[daphne-fandom-writing]

Masterlist

Supernatural

Sam Winchester:

Far away

Set up

Dean Winchester:

Impala (Smut)

Star wars: 

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

The Jedi and the Sith (Smut) (Sith AU) 

Peaceful

To a new year

Training (smut)

Order 66

Turn (Sith AU)

Emperor (Sith AU) 

Cloak (smut)

Good

For him

Old friends masterlist

Anakin Skywalker:

Training (smut) (Sith AU) 

Hurt

Injured

Never forgotten

Captain Rex (CT-7567):

Mission

Luke Skywalker:

Join me (Dark side AU) 

39th Clone battalion masterlist

Teen wolf

Peter Hale x reader 

Chris Argent x reader (Smut)

Marvel

Steve Rogers:

Summercamp

History talk

Chris Evans:

Four times you meet Chris at the same bar

Four times you meet Chris Evans in Disneyland (Smut)

Chris Hemsworth:

Four times you run into Chris Hemsworth

Sebastian Stan: 

Four times you dog gets in Sebastian’s yard

Holiday vibes (Smut)

Jeremy Renner:

Four times you meet Jeremy at Comic Con

DC universe

Roman Sionis: 

Sex toy headcanon (smut)

Scare (smut)

Dealings (smut)

Protection

Dinner

Bands 

Dallon Weekes:

Backstage fun (Smut)

[temerestercore]

IDKHBTFM Masterlist

Art:

Dallon (1)

Dallon (2)

[vampire-matcha]

Blood in the Wine-2

Chapter Two: Reflections

A/N: thanks so much for being patient with me getting this chapter written. Happy Valentine's Day! xoxo

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: blood mention, bruises, mild self harm (hot water), nudity mention, victim blaming (kinda), mild dubcon (compulsion) nothing too major in this chapter

Songs to listen to: Absinthe by iDKHOW and Social Climb by iDKHOW

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6, CH7

---

You were drowning. Gaz's hands were simultaneously your only lifeline and the things dragging you down deeper. Price's eyes bore into you. You shivered, whether from his cold gaze, the loss of blood, or just the plain waves terror you felt ebbing deep below, you weren't sure. 

"Come on love," Gaz muttered in your ear. He began shuffling you forward, and you felt your feet stepping closer and closer to the couch, as if they were obeying Gaz rather than you. Maybe they were. 

Gaz placed you into Price's lap and you fell limply against his chest as he cradled you. You distantly thought of La Pietá. The savior of the world lying dead in his mother's arms. How small he was in comparison. What an unholy twist of Michelangelo's vision you were in. 

Price held you against him, pulling your legs closer, his hand behind your back sliding up to the base of your skull. His eyes, those pale, icy eyes drank you in, much like how you anticipated his teeth would be doing shortly. 

"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" He asked, mostly to himself. "You taste half as good as you look, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, yeah?" He smiled at you, crow's feet crinkling in a comforting sort of way. You felt at ease here in his arms. You shouldn't have. "Just relax, sweetheart, this won't hurt a bit, promise."

He pulled you ever closer, resting your head on his shoulder as his mouth approached the soft curve of your neck. You felt his breath puff out against your skin, beard scratching the sensitive flesh, before you felt that all-too familiar double pinprick. He let out a soft grunt when the flavor of you hit his tongue, followed by a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His hand nestled at your skull snaked itself into your hair to pull you impossibly closer. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the dizziness taking over again. Muffled sounds. Your heart pounding away in your head like the bass drums at the club. The club felt half a world away now: a lifetime ago when you still believed in the goodness of man. You heard someone whimpering. Christ, was that you? You couldn't tell anymore, so focused on that same pleasure-pain in your neck as Price sucked away your inhibitions. 

He finally pried himself away, licking a hot, wide stripe up from your clavicle to your ear. "Like fucking candy," he breathed into you. You shivered again for the umpteenth time that night. He looked past you at the other two men who had fed off of you. "You weren't lying." The other two men chuckled. Then he turned to the dark corner behind you. You didn't have the strength to turn around to see what he was looking at. You weren't sure you wanted to know. 

"Your turn." Oh God please, no more. You didn't think you could take another one. You were so tired. Then you felt the couch dip behind you. You felt like you were in a dream, barely registering the broad chest that pressed up against your back. Price unwound himself from you, and another hand replaced his in your hair, much rougher than the last. It grabbed a fistful of your locks and jerked your head back. A startled sound jumped from your throat. Not quite a scream- almost a moan. 

"Shut up," growled the dark voice behind you. The disembodied voice from before, the one that had chastised Soap. Calloused hands gripped the neck of your shirt, tearing it wider. Your eyes found Gaz, silently pleading for help. He looked sympathetic, but made no move to help. He just watched. They all just watched. 

Then there were fangs in you again, digging into the meat of your shoulder opposite the side Price had drank from only moments ago. These teeth lacked any sort of gentleness or care the others had. He bit down hard and sucked harshly. You felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper underwater, the lights above you dimming as the fist in your hair dragged you under. You're dying. 

"Ghost, enough!" Someone shouted. The mouth was pulled off of you and you fell forward again into strong arms. You felt warmth trickling down your arm. The body holding you leant down to seal the wound with his tongue. Price, you remembered. You couldn't see him, and you barely registered that your eyes were closed. You couldn't seem to open them. 

You heard more shouting. The sharp edges of the cold voice raking down your spine. An argument you couldn't make out rumbled out from the chest beneath you. You felt yourself settle on the seafloor, sand and silt puffing up around you. It was so dark and so muddy, tendrils of seaweed tangling around your limbs, tying you down like a whalefall; a corpse to be fed on, giving life to creatures undeserving. Bottom feeders with monstrous appearances feeding on your past life. 

Hands shook you, a voice pleading to you to open your eyes. You struggled, but finally met those rich brown eyes you'd met a week prior. Kind eyes you had trusted so easily. Eyes so deep brown they looked red in the right lighting. Maybe they were red all along. Maybe you ignored that. Maybe you felt him bite a little too hard at the club, and maybe you still chose to follow him home. Maybe you could've fought harder. Maybe you knew these men were sharks, and maybe you didn't swim away. Maybe you knew they smelled your blood in the water, and maybe you didn't care. Maybe you liked it. 

But none of that mattered when you closed your eyes again and let the waves pass over you. 

—

Your whole body ached as you washed ashore. Your head was pounding. How much had you drank? It couldn't have been that much… You heard paper rustling behind you. You weren't alone. Who…? You weren't in your bed. At least you didn't think so. You don't remember buying silk sheets. The mattress was too soft. 

The world came back to you in throbbing beats hammering straight into your skull. Pounding the bone over and over. Pages flipping. Your arm was sore. A musty smell. An old house settling. Your neck was sore. Pages flipping. Your shoulder burned. Pages flipping. You weren't alone. 

You sat bolt upright. Everything from last night came back to you like a punch in the gut. Another page flipped and you looked over to your right to find Kyle lounging in an armchair across the room. He looked up from the book in his hands and met your eyes with an easy smile. 

"Good morning sunshine."

"Fuck you" you spat at him, pure venom dripping from your mouth. He quirked an eyebrow, amused. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Violated."

"Fair enough. Did you sleep well?"

"Go fuck yourself, Kyle." He was no longer amused. 

"You know, you should be grateful, I saved your fucking life." You seethed. 

"From who? Your fucking friends? The friends you let feed on me?"

"Don't be stupid, love," he condescended. "You think we're the only 'creatures of the night' in all of London? A city this big, this old? Use that pretty little head for something, please." Your head was spinning with a mix of rage and confusion. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm saying you're lucky it was me who found you. Others of my kind aren't so compassionate toward a pretty face. We've got a sense for vulnerability, and sweetheart, you had a target on your back the minute you stepped off the plane. Sooner or later you would've ended up dead in a gutter bled like a fucking pig. The least you could do is say thank you." 

His words had turned venomous toward you. So far was he now from the warm man you had met a week ago. Yet even through the caustic words he spat, you could see something more in his eyes. A facsimile of heartbreak. Like he had any right to be upset. 

"Right. Thank you so fucking much for kidnapping me and drinking my fucking blood!" You were downright incredulous. How dare he? 

The two of you stared seething at one another for what felt like an eternity, neither willing to yield. His red-brown eyes burned into yours, and yours burned right back. Finally, he broke the tense silence with a humorless huff. 

"You can sit here and pretend like you didn't want this, but we both know deep down you did. I know you-"

"You don't know shit about me."

"I know you well enough to know you aren't fucking stupid. You saw the signs, yeah? And you still followed me home. I mean come on! You were reading fucking Dracula when we met. You expect me to believe you didn't know what I am? That you didn't even suspect it?" You shook your head desperately. 

"I didn't ask for this!"

"Maybe not, but you got it anyway. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me, love."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine."

Once again the two of you sat in uncomfortable, charged silence. Neither of you was willing to break, to look away. Kyle studied you with furrowed brows trying to figure out his next move. He seemed to reach a conclusion and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. He reached down beside him and stood with a duffel bag. 

"Clean yourself up," he commanded, throwing the duffel at the foot of the bed you layed in. "Price wants to talk." And with that he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door a little too roughly. 

Finally alone, you fought off the tears pricking your eyes, choosing to take in your surroundings instead. This was definitely not the apartment you had been in before. You had slept in a four poster bed, which would've been cozy under different circumstances. The walls were plastered with a garish wallpaper, repeating paisley patterns assaulting your eyes and worsening your headache the more you looked at it; so instead you averted your eyes to the window. Yellow-orange light shone in through the curtains. The sun was setting. How long had you been unconscious? Finally your eyes came to another door left ajar: the restroom. Clean yourself up. 

You reached for the duffel, tearing the zipper open to see your own clothing and toiletries thrown haphazardly inside. They'd broken into your apartment? You never even told Gaz… Kyle where you lived. You sat in awe as realization struck that Kyle had been watching you, stalking you. Staking you out like prey; which,evidently, you were. 

You looked down at yourself. You were still dressed in the outfit from the night before, although the collar of your shirt had been torn to immodest shreds. Other than the quickly-fading bruises left from the bites, you could find no evidence that those cruel men had done any further harm to you. 

You looked closer at the bite on your wrist, fingers delicately brushing over it to find the skin slightly numbed and the holes closed, now more closely resembling bug bites than an open wound. The bites on your neck felt much the same; however the bite on your shoulder- the one left by Ghost, as the others had called him- must have gone much deeper. The pain went all the way into your muscle, and it hurt to move your arm. You could see through your shirt's tattered neckline that the bruise was much darker than the rest. A shiver ran down your spine. He would've killed you. 

You shook off the dread that was beginning to overtake you and hurried to the bathroom with the duffel before you could start hyperventilating. You locked the door behind you, convincing yourself that it would somehow stop the unnaturally strong creatures from breaking in. You rested your forehead against the door for a moment to catch your breath before turning around. 

There was a clawfoot tub in the middle of the room and towels lain out on the countertop next to the sink. You began drawing a bath, glancing at the door behind you every so often. The rational side of you knew that they'd already had every opportunity to hurt you any way they wanted, and they hadn't. You knew in your mind you were safe there in the bathroom, that they wouldn't touch you, at least not like that. But you couldn't shake the deep unease that had settled in your gut. You couldn't help hesitating before you undressed, silently expecting the door to burst open and a monster to spring forth fangs-first. 

But it didn't. As you stood naked before the full tub, the only sound that echoed in the tiled room was the steady drip-drip-drip of the leaky faucet. You were safe- for now. 

You sank into the burning hot water. You'd turned the temperature as high as it could go. You needed it hot to ground you. You felt like your whole world was collapsing around you and the only safe place you had was this tub. You needed to feel your skin burn to cleanse it of the mouths of those men. The heat would sanitize your wounds. You scrubbed at the bites, scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin was raw. And then you scrubbed more. 

You stayed in the tub until the water was freezing. You shivered with chattering teeth, not wanting to leave the security of the tub. You stayed until you could no longer bear the cold. Finally, you pulled the plug in the drain and stepped out, wrapping yourself in one of the dark towels and dug through the duffel for your clothes. You pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a fair amount of holes in each. You could tell they hadn't put any thought into what they'd grabbed, everything was shoved in unfolded, a pile of your underwear stuffed in at the very bottom. 

Now dressed, you took your appearance in as you gazed into the mirror. Your eyes were bloodshot, your shoulders hunched, one of them blotched with shades of purple and green. You could barely recognize yourself. Sure, you had the same dyed hair, the piercings, and of course those were your clothes hanging off your frame. But there was something in your eyes that was different. There was an understanding of some new forbidden knowledge. You had seen the underbelly of this world, and it had looked right back at you, grinning with sharp teeth. 

Part of you was still holding out hope that maybe this was all a dream. Maybe you would wake up in a cold sweat, but ultimately unharmed. The bruises would be gone, you'd still have that light in your eyes. You couldn't stand to look at yourself anymore. You turned away from the mirror. 

You stood at the door for five whole minutes, hand hovering on the lock but reluctant to turn it. Once you did, you'd have to step back out into this fantastical nightmare of hellishly handsome men who wished to feed on you. 

You opened the door. 

The room was empty. You could see through the curtains that night had fallen in the duration of your bath. The only light in the room came from a small bedside lamp. You didn't remember turning it on. You looked to the bed next, seeing that the sheets had been made. They were in your room and you hadn't even heard them. Your stomach tightened at the revelation, but before you could dwell on it any further, a knock sounded at the bedroom door. 

You debated not answering it. Didn't vampires need to be welcomed in? Another knock, this one more insistent. Then another beat of silence. 

"If you don't open the door, I'm coming in," came Kyle's voice from the other side. And so you found yourself turning the handle. As long as you were the one opening the door, maybe you could keep up the illusion of having some sort of control on this situation. 

Kyle was waiting, leaning against the opposite wall. He gave you a once-over as you peeked through the crack. You suddenly felt self-conscious. All wet hair and sunken eyes, wearing that old baggy ska band tee you'd thrifted years back; you were a far cry from the woman he'd seen before, all done up pretty just for him. You shook the thought from your mind. Why should you care what Kyle thinks of you? He's a monster. 

"Took you long enough," he muttered under his breath, unamused. You frowned, about to mouth off a rebuttal, but he pushed off the wall and started down the hallway. "Come on, Price is waiting." Clearly he expected you to follow. You didn't want to think about the consequences of staying put, so, ever so hesitantly, you followed behind, leaving a good distance between the two of you. 

He led you through the house, all wood paneling and crown molding, to a large oak door. You could hear the Scottish voice of Soap ringing out like a church bell, and below it crackled a fire. Gaz opened the door and motioned with a nod of his head for you to enter. You glanced at him, searching for any hint of pity in his eyes, but they wouldn't meet yours. Instead he stared at the wall behind you. Whether he was avoiding your gaze due to guilt or pure disinterest, you couldn't tell. You walked through the door. 

Immediately upon entering, Soap stopped his blabbering, turning his energy toward you instead. 

"There's our girl!" He shouted, arms extended as he barreled toward you. On instinct, you shuffled back quickly, only to feel Kyle's hand at your back, keeping you from retreating back into the hallway. Thankfully, Soap stopped short of wrapping his trunk-like arms around you, his smile faltering. "Not much of a hugger, eh? That's alright, we'll get there." He backed away, allowing you to fully enter the room. 

It was a lounge or study of some sort. Plush, dark velour couches and chairs were arranged in a semicircle, end tables dispersed between them, all facing the fireplace in the wall. And there next to it, sitting in a high-backed armchair and smoking a cigar, was Price. 

"Have a seat," he commanded. You stood where you were, too uneasy to move, and still holding onto your stubbornness. "Now," he insisted. You obeyed, sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. Soap sat next to you, but still left a cushion between you. Kyle stayed standing at the door. "How are you feeling?" Price asked. You heard Kyle scoff behind you. 

"Like someone drank my blood," you spat. You were already so done with this. 

"Right…" he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I believe we owe you an apology." You stayed silent. "Ghost took it a bit too far the other night, and I do sincerely apologize on his behalf." The other night?

"He almost killed me."

"Yes."

"You were planning on killing me."

"Yes."

"So what the hell am I still doing here?"

"Yes, about that. We need to discuss the conditions of your stay with us-"

"You can't keep me here!"

"We can and we will. Do not interrupt me again, little girl." His words stung. "Now listen. You will stay here, living as our familiar. We will take care of you, and in exchange you will allow us to feed on you." This couldn't be happening. "Any accommodations you'd like will be met within reason. You may roam freely throughout the house during daylight hours. Come nightfall, you will return to your bedroom. You will not leave your bedroom until sunrise. Understand?" You stared blankly at him. No, you didn't understand. How could this be happening? 

"As for the feeding arrangement: one full feeding can usually sustain us for about three to four weeks. However, we are aiming not to drain you," he teased, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a friendly smile. "So, we'll be feeding on a weekly basis. We'll each take turns, give you time to recover. Ghost's time with you will be supervised to avoid another… incident." 

He kept talking about the four of them draining your blood so nonchalantly, as if you were businessmen in a boardroom discussing finances, and not a pack of monsters and their kidnapped victim. Price opened his mouth to continue, but you cut him off before he could speak. 

"People will look for me! You can't just keep me prisoner!" You were grasping at straws, trying to keep your hold on reality as your world came crashing down. A flash of irritation crossed over Price's face, and he shifted in his seat to dig something out of his pocket. You'd interrupted again and he was not pleased. 

"Do you know how long you were unconscious, dear?" You froze. 

"What… what do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, you've been asleep for three days." What? You felt your stomach drop. "And do you know how many people have been looking for you in those three days? Let's check." He held up what he'd retrieved from his pocket: your phone. "Two text messages and three missed calls. One call from Jerrie. Then a text from Camille that reads: 'where the hell are you? Jerrie is about to flip his shit.' Missed call from Camille. Text from Camille: you better get here soon, I'm supposed to have a date with David tonight, I can't cover for you.' Then finally a missed call from Jerrie. Left a voicemail. You're fired. Sorry about that." 

He didn't sound sorry at all. In fact, it seemed like he got some sick sadistic satisfaction from watching your hope crumble with every message he read out to you.

"No… No, you broke into my apartment, the police will-"

"We used your key, darling. As far as anyone's concerned, your boyfriend was just stopping by to get some things for you. That is- if anybody even cared enough to notice." 

"No… my… my family-"

"According to your call logs, you haven't spoken to your mother in… six weeks? Yeah just about." That stung. That burned. You hadn't been on great terms with your family, especially your mother, for quite some time- even before you left the country. And for this stranger, this beast to throw that in your face? Your eyes were watering, bitter tears falling from your cheeks as reality finally, finally set in. Price set your phone down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared into your eyes. You felt frozen to your core. 

"No one is coming to save you. You're alone, sweetheart. We're all you have left. Now, if you want to fight and sulk and act like a prisoner, by all means, try your best- you're not getting out. So you might as well make the most of it." You should be panicking, hyperventilating, screaming and tearing out your hair. But you just sat there numb, staring off into space as your worst fears were realized. You had been alone all along. You weren't getting out. Yet there was still a part of you that wanted to fight. 

"What if I say no?" You said in a voice too small. Price chuckled. 

"We both know that's not an option, love. So are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?" You weren't going to fight your way out of this. Maybe if you bided your time, you could figure something out. You steeled your nerves and felt yourself nodding your head. Price leaned back with a satisfied smile. 

"Attagirl!" Cheered Soap next to you. You jumped. You had forgotten he was there. 

"The deal is struck," Price proudly announced. "I promise you, as our familiar, no harm will come to you, apart from the necessary bites. You have my word, my men won't lay a finger on you… unless you'd like them to," he added with a cheeky smirk. Your stomach tightened. "We'll talk more about accommodations tomorrow, you ought to be going to bed." He turned to the man sitting next to you. "Soap, would you kindly escort our lady back to her room?" 

"Yes, sir," he answered, standing up and holding a hand out to you. He had a kind, lopsided grin on his face. He was clearly excited about his new pet. "Come on, lass, it's bedtime." You took his hand, and he led you back out of the lounge. You passed by Kyle at the doorway. He still wouldn't look at you. 

Soap kept your hand in his the whole way back to your room, blabbering all the way.

"You don' have to be afraid, lass. Price keeps his word; you're safe inside these walls. The bond between familiar and master is sacred." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. You barely felt it through the fog in your mind. "Christ, I've been wanting a familiar for so long, never thought Price would let us keep one. But here you are, and a right pretty one a' that! We'll have so much fun together, once you warm up to us. It'll be alright." You had barely processed his ramblings when you finally reached the door to your bedroom. 

"Well, here we are." He opened the door for you, and you walked in, still feeling numb. You heard the door latch behind you and when you turned around to look, you realized Soap had followed you in. He grinned at you. 

"Dinnertime."

Tags: @cherry-slushee @iimfae @newcomernewcums @cowboybxtch @quiurifam @sad--pigeon @desert-fern @grizzers @the-wandering-pan-ace @quiurifam @wasteland-babe @obi-wansorrow

Comment or message to be tagged. Ask box is open, I love making friends!!!

[kararisa]

marigold promises

— 01. finally, a worthy opponent!

— donut disco || masterlist || next

summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.

author's notes: and that's our first chapter ^^ also i decided to add featured songs to some chapters just to add little bit of spice~ feel free to share your thoughts, i always love reading them!

featured song: Choke by IDKHow

taglist: @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx @aiikalvr @yaefics @ch35hir3 @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns @sweetbunnybunbun @dee-zbignuts @redactedhimbo @yurstepm0m

— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn't highlighted it means i can't tag you.

[itskenwaybitch]

h e l l o ! ~ ★

→ i’m kennedy (or skye, or kenway, or ken, or...whatever) nice to meet you!

→ 21. she/they. lesbian who would make a very special exception for a choice few fictional men. furry + suiter. rabid fangirl of various things. horse girl. undergad psychology student. casual self-shipper (i'm totally okay with sharing! in fact PLEASE TALK TO ME if we have an f/o in common!!!!). shitpost curator. chronic silly goose disease.

→ my one and only blog for any and all interests. i can't run multiple blogs, i don't have the energy or brain capacity for that. :) 👍

→ character anons + roleplay blogs welcome!!!

→ tone indicators are appreciated!

→ minors are REQUIRED to block my nsfw tag: #˚✧nsfw

→ DNI: MINORS UNDER 16. PEDOS. ZOOS. BIGOTS. NAZIS. CONSERVATIVES. JUST ANY GENERAL HATEFUL HUMAN BEING.

→ tag directory + interests + f/os under the cut!

→ carrd

t a g s ~ ★

→ fair warning: i have a tag for EVERYTHING!! i feel like they are self-explanatory for the most part, but if you're confused, come here for a reference! :3 i also add new tags a lot so don't be surprised to see things pop up here.

#˚✧denkeeping - any info posts like this. masterlist. about me. etc.

#˚✧brainrot - rambles + infodumping.

#˚✧packtalk - sayin stuff

#˚✧resources - anything that other people made that i use! post templates, dividers, decorations, etc.

#˚✧titanposting - attack on titan stuff.

#˚✧asscreed - assassin’s creed stuff.

#˚✧watcherihardlyknowher - watcher stuff.

#˚✧nomourners - grishaverse stuff

#˚✧dnp - dan and phil stuff

#˚✧baldgate - baldur's gate stuff

#˚✧delusion - self-insert/self-ship stuff. block if you cringe. this is my silly little blog. let me be cringe and delusional in peace.

#˚✧mailtime! - asks. anons, friends, and character anons will get their own tag with their name/emoji in front. ex: jean mail time!

#˚✧furryshit - i feel like this needs no explanation.

#˚✧skye’sshippingco. - ship stuff.

#˚✧lolz - memes

#˚✧🐺🩷{insert character name here} - a way to better organize posts dedicated to my faves.

#˚✧nsfw - self explanatory

#˚✧🩷{person} - interactions with friendos!

#˚✧tagthings - challenges/prompts/stuff you guys tag me in :p

#˚✧g(r)eek - anything ancient greece or greek mythology related

loves/interests ~ ★

→ attack on titan

→ alternative music [pierce the veil, idkhow, fall out boy, maneskin, system of a down, to name a few]

→ assassin's creed

→ six of crows

→ red dead redemption 2

→ baldur's gate 3

→ various horse games (Kenway on HI3 + Kendra Ponyheart on SSO)

→ the nightmare before christmas. (fuck tim burton tho)

→ phandom

→ watcher/buzzfeed unsolved

→ equestrian sports and anything horse related. i ride hunters/equitation!

→ wolves

→ the furry fandom (SFW ONLY PLS)

→ greek mythology

→ psychology, sociology, anthropology, all the -ologies...

→ mushrooms, frogs, nature-y cottage core vibes, ya know

→ shitposting

f / o s ~ ★

→ ratonhnhaké:ton/connor kenway - assassin's creed III

→ kassandra - assassin's creed odyssey

→ jean kirschtein (season 4 specifically) - attack on titan

→ more to come im sure lol. me and my simp ass.