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#long live woman in chains
prickly-paprikash · 2 months
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Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.
Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.
2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.
Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.
N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.
And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.
Drake is none of that.
He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.
Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.
2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.
N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.
50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.
Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.
I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.
Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.
@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.
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The Māori tino rangatiratanga [sovereignty, self-determination] flag flying alongside Palestinian flags. The tino rangatiratanga flag is black at the top and red at the bottom, the two colours separated by white lines forming a koru (spiral). The Palestinian flag has three horizontal stripes (black, white and green) with a red triangle on the left.
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"Pro-Palestine protest at Pacific Islands Forum meeting in Rarotonga"
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A young child holding an ili (Samoan woven fan) that says Samoa for Palestine
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A young boy holds a sign reading Justice the seed, peace the flower / Ko te mana whakaaiko hei kākano, kia puawai mai te maungarongo. Beneath is artwork of a fist breaking free from chains below blooming flowers.
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Left: the 1975 Māori Land March. Right: the 2018-2019 Palestinian Great March of Return.
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If we want to free Hawai'i... [Hawaiian flag] we must also free Palestine [Palestinian flag]. Credit to @ainamomona
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A young Māori boy holding a sign that reads MANA MOTUHAKE [independence/autonomy] 4 PALESTINE
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A Fijian woman holding a sign that reads Food is not a weapon of war! Stop starving Palestinians! Behind are two more signs. One says CEASEFIRE NOW and the other says DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT GAZA
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A group of Fijians holding candles and wearing shirts that read STOP THE GENOCIDE
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Left: a diagram of Palestinian land loss between 1946 and 2009. Right: a diagram of Māori land loss in the North Island of Aotearoa between 1860 and 2000.
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A sign reading TANGATA WHENUA [indigenous people] FOR PALESTINE [tino rangatiratanga symbol, Palestine flag symbol]
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Three Pasifika people holding signs. The first says MAI LE VAITAFE AGA'I I LE SAMI! [Samoan: from the river to the sea] FREE PALESTINE! The second sign says FROM OUR PASIFIKA OCEAN TO THE RIVER TO THE SEA FREE PALESTINE. The final sign shows the Palestinian and Tongan flags and says 'OFA KI PALESITAINE [Tongan: Love to Palestine]
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A group of Pasifika holding signs and banners. They say "HOW MANY MORE KILLINGS IS ENOUGH FOR YOU?" "KŪ'E! KŪ'E! [Hawaiian: Resist! Resist!] PASIFIKA STANDS WITH PALESTINE" "'OFA KI PALESTINE" "FROM THE PACIFIC TO THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE" "WHERE IS YOUR HUMANITY?" "SAMOANS FOR PALESTINE" "FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA" "KŪ'E KŪ'E KANAKA WITH PALESTINE" "FREE PALESTINE CEASEFIRE NOW"
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A West Papuan man holding two signs. The first says WEST PAPUA STAND WITH MYANMAR. The second says WEST PAPUA STAND WITH PALESTINE
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Two signs. The first says PACIFIC ISLANDERS FOR PALESTINE. The second says #FREE PALESTINE #FREE WEST PAPUA #FREE CONGO #FREE SUDAN
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A Palestinian flag decorated with Samoan patterns. Words say 'AGA'I MAI LE VAITAFE E O'O ATU I LE SAMI FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA #Sāmoans4Palestine
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A tweet from Tamatha Paul (Waikato-Tainui, Ngāti Awa) on 29 June 2023. Another big win this week, courtesy of @Just4Pal and @nikau4poneke, we [Pōneke Wellington] will be Sister Cities with the Palestinian city of Ramallah 😍 Free Palestine!!!
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A Pasifika woman holding two signs. The first says FREE PALESTINE FREE PALESTINE END THE APARTHEID! END THE BLOCKADE! END THE ETHNIC CLEANSING! CEASE STATE SANCTIONED VIOLENCE! CEASE COLONIALISM! BOYCOTT ISRAEL! From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! The second sign has pictures of Palestinian and West Papuan flags. It says pacific islanders stand in solidarity with Palestine! #FREEWESTPAPUA #FREEPALESTINE CEASE COLONIALISM
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A sign that has the tino rangatiratanga flag at the top and Palestinian flag at the bottom. It says Mai te awa ki te moana [from the river to the sea] MĀORI LAW STUDENTS For a FREE PALESTINE
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A Pasifika woman holding a sign decorated with Pacific symbols. It says LONG LIVE PALESTINE - PASIFIKA 4 PALESTINE - FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE
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Another Samoan fan. This one says PALESTINE WILL BE FREE
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chososluv · 7 months
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P L U G T O J I !
✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: i just got the thinking about toji fucking you with a chain on and how drastically different he would be from plug!choso and well... she came out!
🏷 tags/warnings: smut. fem!reader, reader has vagina, black coded, big dick toji, pet names (ma, mamas, daddy) daddy is used as "hey zaddy" not in a ddlg kind of way, slight size kink bc toji is huge squirting, fingering, some degradation, toji being a meanie its why we love him. dom!toji, cervix touching, deepthroating, weed smoking, mentions of criminal activity, toji is as toxic ass mf, reader is a fly ass bitch, toji fucking you w the chain on cuz duhhhh! Also subject to be edited
✎₊˚ word count: 6.5k sorry i had a lot to say about plug!toji yall!
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Plug!Toji who is drastically different than plug!choso from personalities and down to how you meet.
You were college girl and Plug!Toji is the king of the city you moved to. You two lived in separate worlds until you decided further education was not for you and dropped out. It wasn't the fact that you weren't making grades — you were on the dean's list the entire time you were there — but you suddenly felt bored. Destined for more, you submitted those drop out papers and felt instant relief knowing that was the right decision. Now that you had time to pursue something other than college, you started bouncing around jobs. Retail job here, customer service agent there, eventually you tried out being a bottle girl at a local luxurious nightclub after being referred through a friend of a friend. That decision led you to be tangled with the notorious Toji Fushiguro.
Plug!Toji flew back to the city on this particular day. He touched down and decided immediately he need to be fucked up with a pretty woman in his lap. He went to his penthouse condominium, ridding himself of his clothes to start a hot shower before he got ready to go to one of his favorite clubs.
The same one you happened to work at full time now
Plug!Toji waited for the shower to get hot when one of his trusted men, Gojo Satoru, sent him the details of the section booked, followed with a selfie of him and an unknown's stripper's ass, grinning really hard. Toji could only grunt out a small laugh, tossing his phone onto the counter and climbing into the shower.
Originally not scheduled, you picked up a shift that fateful night Plug!Toji arrived back in town. You wanted the extra cash — and needed to justify spending money on getting your hair done into a smooth silk press. Your hair was long and straight down your back, and you looked absolutely divine. You garnered more attention that night from both clients and coworkers. You only laugh off each compliment, saying thank you, before tossing the strands over your shoulder. You had time for nothing more. You were here to get your bag and go.
Absorbed in your bag chasing, you failed to notice Plug!Toji watching you from his section. Satoru had the section packed with a plethora of strippers and bottle girls but you were all he could find himself focused on. Strippers kept trying to get his attention but he shooed him away every time as he watched you bring a bottle to a table. He saw your gorgeous smile all the way from his section. He continued to watch you and he took a generous swig from the Hennessy bottle. He doesn't flinch as the dark brown liquid raced its way bitterly down his throat. He still didn't care. His only focus was on the pretty woman with the exuberant personality he saw from across the way. You.
"Wait, I think the Toji is staring at you." One of your coworkers peeped as you were walking to the bar to prepare another drop on a table. The other one looked over and saw the big brooding man staring shamelessly in your direction. She quickly looked back to the rest of you before joining in the confirmation.
"He's definitely looking this way, but could he really be staring at y/n?" The other asked, clearly not attempting to hide her jealousy and you laughed. You only shook your head, not even bothering to look at who they were talking about because again, you were here to get your bag and not fawn over men. Money was the only thing on your mind and these men had to prove they were worthy of your attention. The three of you approach the bar before you replied.
"Girl not you sounding like a damn hater," you checked her, "we'll revisit that comment later, but either way I have no idea who that man is." You continued as you watch the bartenders finish up the last touches on the bottles you were delivering. The girl only rolled her eyes.
"Even more reason why I hope he's not looking at you. You're too new around here and you getting all the high end clients-" You looked directly at your coworker.
"You worry about the wrong damn things. Focus on ya bag and maybe you won't be so hurt when someone new comes in and takes up your clients." You snapped, not bothered — or concerned — if customers heard. This coworker in particular had been testing you since you got here and were sick of the unwarranted attitude. The witnessing coworker whistled.
"Y/N got a point. Step ya pussy up and maybe you'll party with Fushiguro one day." She said, defending you and that was all you needed to hear. You heard her fix to say something else, but then your manager popped up next to you three. A big grin was on his face
"Ladies, Yuki is going to fill in for Y/N. Toji Fushiguro just bought Y/N for the rest of the night." You raised your eyebrow and turned to face your manager. You didn't even bother to sneak a glance at your hater coworker. You knew she was fuming but that wasn't your focus. You had a smile stretched across your lips.
"How much?"
"Shit, probably enough to pay off the remainder of your loans from school. I know I could go out and buy a car with the money he just offered off tip alone." He said honestly and that was all you needed.
Plug!Toji who watched your manager fill you in from a distance. He immediately got up from the section, not wanting to share you with anyone. He descended from the stairs with suave arrogance as if he owned the place. Shit, he pretty much did one way or another with the way he ran this city. Everyone ate out of his hand whether they knew it or not. He continued his descension and that's when you finally looked in his direction. You unknowingly clenched your fist when you settled on his face, the look of an adonis but eyes of something so evil and sinister. You felt the tides change in that moment and knew your world was about to shift tremendously.
Plug!Toji stalks up on you, towering over you and your manager. He offers his free hand that wasn't holding the Hennessy bottle. His hands are cold. . .
so why was your palm so hot when he held it?
"You're y/n?" you nodded, "you ever fucked with someone who could buy you fucking the world, pretty girl?" Toji asked, quickly inspecting your empty wrist and empty ring finger. Perfect. That meant it would easier for him to snatch you up if you didn't have anyone at home waiting for you.
"Nah, but I assume you're about to change that, Toji?" Your mouth moved before you could stop yourself. He could only smirk and he bit his lip as he looked at you up and down. Your manager sensed he was no longer needed and walked himself away as he felt the wad of cash in his pocket - courtesy of Toji bribing for your time.
"Had a feeling you had a mouth on you," he brought his lips close to your ear, "glad to know I was right." A shiver skated down your spine and you felt goosebumps prickle on your arms. You brought your face back to look at him, shooting him a mischievous grin and Toji felt something adjacent to love in that moment. A desire to have you to himself had grew even more. You leaned close to him and he brought his ear back down to you so you could speak clear into it.
"I'd love to know what else you suspect about me, Toji." You challenged, voice something sensual and thick with sultry honey. He traced a thumb over your knuckle and replied back.
"Careful with me, baby. I just might snatch you up and never bring you back." Toji warned. You probably should have took some time to think about what he was saying, but you felt high off this banter alone and wanted to do anything to keep it going. So, you licked your lips, stepped close to him and placed a testy hand on his stomach and spoke.
"What if I been waiting for you to come do that, Fushiguro?" You said. You removed your lips from his ear to capture the look in his eyes. Sensual darkness passed over and he grinned sinfully, that scar lifted at the corner of his mouth. You had only just fully realized how eerie he looked with it, but for some reason you wondered what it would be like if he let you licked it. . .
"Then," he broke your thoughts, "lets go ahead and get acquainted, baby. Whatcha say?" He questioned and you nodded. He smirked again and took a final swig of the Hennessy bottle. He looked to his left to see your coworker from earlier gawking at you two. He motioned her over, excitement came across her face as she thought she was joining in on you. However, Toji placed the empty bottle in her hand, patted her cheek, and shooed her away. He focused his attention back on you before witnessing the crestfallen look on her face. You couldn't even attempt to shoot her a fake sympathetic look because you started squealing.Toji literally snatches you up and takes you out of main room and to the lounge he faithfully rents out.
Plug!Toji who had you squeezing your legs tight as he carried you to keep your cunt from fluttering. The brute exhibit of his strength had you swoon as he balanced you with one arm. He took you to his favorite lounge where drinks and pre-rolled blunts were already waiting. He took a seat on the plush couch and you slid down next to him. He stared at you all over, not bothering to hide his wandering gaze. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke.
"You smoke?"
Plug!Toji who offers you a blunt - to which you gladly take. Smoking on the shift with this handsome man? That's a dream come true. You take a couple puffs, barely coughing and Toji is impressed as you passed it back. He takes a hit before passing it back to you.
"You be smoking, huh baby?" He asked you. You chuckled, nodding as you take another generous hit. This time you stifle a small cough and he laughed at you.
"Yeah. It's how I decompress." You admitted, coughing again and he chuckled at you once again. He rubbed your back jokingly to help you through your fit.
"Can't smoke my shit like its regular baby this shit pressure." He said, taking another hit to hold the blunt for you. You rolled your eyes, looking at him to see he scooted closer to you. You felt the heat from his body waft off his and onto yours, words dissolved from your brain as you looked at his appearance appropriately. His all black outfit with a black tee, jeans, and shoes - a simple yet sexy monochrome moment. A thick gold herringbone chain draped around his neck to provide a pop of color and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering how the weight would feel on your face while he fu-
"What you looking at, y/n?" Toji asked, smirking at you once again as he caught you staring at him in deep thought. You subconsciously licked your lips as while staring at his chain and he felt compelled to call you out on it. You snapped from your gaze, trance lifted and your eyes shifted back to his. You only smiled.
“Your chain, daddy.” You teased and he shifted at the pet name that rolled off your tongue. He didn't even try to hide his sleazy ass grin.
“What about my chain, ma?” He took a final hit of the blunt, ashed the rest in the tray. Leaning back into the couch, he stretched out his legs and patted a broad hand on his lap. You knew this signal, and usually you ignore it but with Toji? You obeyed and got up to slide into his lap. You placed an arm around his shoulders to steady yourself against his frame. His broad arms circled around you and caged you in possessively. You sunk into his hold and then you spoke.
“It's pretty.” You reached up and your fresh manicure set brushed against the herringbone. He swallowed when he felt your nails scratch against his neck and he only stared at your face in the lounge lighting. He’s allowed to see your pretty complexion in this space, gorgeous set of pump lips, and lashes extended for days. Your eyes looked from the chain to see him staring at you. You smiled and tossed your hair over your shoulder.
“Want one?” He asked you, eyes flickering to your naked neck and picturing how a matching one would look on you. He thought about adding a T charm to it so people know you were his. A smile on his face when he thought about it but it looked like he was mirroring yours because you had also smiled.
“Maybe. What I gotta do for one?” You teased and played a dangerous game consciously. You played dumb, but you knew the whispers about Toji Fushiguro. He was the top boss of the city and he did highly illegal things. Too many of the people he was affiliated with were fighting charges and RICOS. And you had sat in the most dangerous man in the city’s lap, and flirted with him as if it were nothing.
When you look back on your behavior that night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you always knew you were secretly made for this kind of life with Toji.
“Let me take you out of here and I’ll show you everything you can do for me, pretty girl.”
Plug!Toji didn't need to ask you twice. You immediately left without telling any of the girls and your manager. You texted your roommate you would be out late and shared your location with a trusted best friend and that was as much as you did.
Plug!Toji met you out front. He grabbed your hand and led you to a vehicle, opening the door for you to the backseat of a sleek, black suv. The leather interior had you wondering how much it cost as Toji slid in the backseat with you. The driver greeted Toji and he responded with grunted instructions to go home.
“Ayo you know the rules. Don’t look back here. And shit with this one,” Toji looked at you, licked his lips, and wondered how yours would taste, “if you even think about looking back here i’ll cut those eyes out.” You didn't have time to register how serious Toji’s threat sounded because he placed his rough lips against yours. You immediately shut your eyes, melting into his lips and you felt immediately brazen enough to grab onto his t-shirt to bring him closer. Toji could only smirk against your lips, seeing how you were bold and never terrified to be in close quarters with him regardless of his criminal status. He only wanted you more that night.
Plug!Toji who didn't give a fuck his driver was less than a foot away and he pulled down the raunchy work top you wore. You gasped when his calloused fingers pinched at your hardened nipple. The action earned a twitch between your thighs.
"I been wondering how pretty these tits were since i saw you and i'm not disappointed. They real aint they?" Toji said against your lips, he paused kissing you to cast a gaze down at your breast. He saw the perky bunch prickle with goosebumps as your nipples stood at the cold air and stimulation. You only moaned at his compliment before you snaked your hand that was on his shirt to the back of his head to bring him closer, aching to devour his taste of mint and hennessey again. You're stuck your tongue out lewdly as you drew him closer and he smirked sinisterly before you two kissed yet again. This time was sloppy and spit swapping with teeth bumping against one another as tongues traced one another. The taste of your strawberry gloss and tongue left Plug!Toji feeling greedy and he needed more.
Plug!Toji and you only managed to kiss on the car ride. When Toji was about to place you in his lap the driver alerted you two that you had arrived to his apartment. He grunted, pulling away from you to see your gloss smeared around your lips and pupils blown sexually. He took a thumb and rubbed the gloss off your chin as you tuck your breast back into your shirt. Toji reached into his pocket, took out a wad of wash, and threw it into the lap of the driver.
"Good job not looking. Y/N, baby come on."
Plug!Toji who wasted no time and fucked you crazy in his apartment that night. He brought you up to his apartment and was nice enough to let the door close before he had began tearing your clothes off. You can't recall who took off what, but what you do remember is the first thing he made you do was lay face down ass up on the edge of the bed. His hands caressed your ass as his tongue lapped up and down your cunt ravenously. Salvia and dripping cream dribbled down his chin and lips but he didn’t care. Your angelic wails melodic to him and each time you went an higher octave he felt his cock swell another inch.
“Sexy as fuck when you moan,” Toji complimented you, “pussy pretty and soaked too think you ready for this dick?” You were so delirious you agreed. Your cunt lusted for something inside it and you felt him tap on your ass. You got up from your position, turning around to face him as you sat on the edge. You looked up at him, his massive frame towered over you as he slowly undid his jeans, his shirt long gone but that damn gold chain still sitting grandly on his chest.
He settled onto the middle of his bed, free from his clothes and he gave you a look. You didn’t need to be told, and you crawled towards him, swift hands at the band of his boxers and you languidly pull down . . .
you gawked at his immense cock that flopped against his stomach, stiff and flushed at the tip. You attempted miserably to hide your overwhelmed countenance but Toji saw the way your eyes widened and snickered. You don't notice him laughing at you because you were still so mesmerized by how huge it was. The veins are engorged around his shaft and even though it’s so brawny and intimidating it’s so pretty.
"Never seen a dick this big before huh?" Toji teased you, a playful thumb coming to caress your cheek as you continued to stare at his cock. You shook your head, just astonished. His enticing mauve shaft with a pink tip had you licking your lips at his color. The tip bubbled with precum and you leaned forward and kitten licked his slit. Toji hissed, but then grumbled as you took his tip in your mouth. He moved his hand to your hair and held it back, his brawny fingers fisting it into a ponytail. His thighs jerked when you kept trying to take as much as him as you could. What you couldn’t take you caressed with two delicate hands.
"Y/N." Toji hissed your name again and gripped tightly onto your hair. You answered with obscene noises coming from your throat and mouth as you performed the best oral of your life. You were so determined as you were determined to claim him with your mouth. Toji noticed your stubborn nature and one of your hands snuck away to fondle at his balls. He cursed and bucked his hips up in your mouth.
His tip bullied its way down your throat and it caused you to gag, but you took it obediently. He carnally bucked his hips into your awaiting throat, more obscene noises tumbled before you pulled your mouth off of him to breathe. You gasped as spit and a little bit of precum slid lewdly down your chin from the excess on your lips. You only smiled, giggled, and then continued to massage his balls with your hands.
"Dick so fucking big, Ji." You said, fucked out just from sucking his cock and Toji could only smirk. He saw that look in your eye and could not believe you were drunk off sucking his cock alone. He almost replied but then you tucked him back into your mouth. Toji groaned as he watched you hungrily slide his dick past where you stopped last time, deep throating him.
"Fuck— mouth so fucking good let me fuck that throat again." Toji said desperately. You barely gave his thigh a gentle caress as a go before he bucked inside your mouth again. You released a sound that was a mix of a whine and a gag and Toji felt his dick jump in your mouth. He bit his lip, relishing in the feeling of your wet and hot mouth and pictured what your cunt felt like. He casted a gaze down at your legs to see you grinding your poor thighs together. He smirked.
"Rubbing your thighs while sucking my dick is crazy. Get cho ass up here and fucking ride it."
You pulled your mouth off his cock, lungs gasping for air as you let oxygen fill them once more. You got up to your knees, quickly placing a few fingers at your entrance to feel the slickness. You're beyond drenched and your glossy fingers were indisputable proof. Toji snatched your hand as you straddled his waist and stuck your fingers in his mouth. Your taste danced on his taste buds and he sighed with pleasure.
"How I taste, daddy?" You inquired, finding your voice now because when he ate you out earlier words were scarce.
"Fucking delicious now sit on this dick."
Plug!Toji had a feeling he was going to fall damn near in love with you the moment you deepthroat his cock, but the way you rode him with something serious he felt in heaven. His arms were crossed behind his head as he enjoyed the way you slapped your hips against his pelvis erotically. His groomed hairs sticky and soaked with your nectar. You huffed, tits bouncing as you ignored the burn that plagued your inner thighs.
"To-ji!" You moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock. You strived to ignore the fact that his girth was literally splitting you in half. You could feel him in the depths of your soul each time you managed to bottom him out completely. Your cunt quivered each time and you panted out pathetic gasps between moans. Toji only continued to smirk at you, drinking in and loving the way you moaned his name. Why was everything about you so perfect?
"You're so fucking sexy taking my cock like a pro, mama." Toji grinned and the scar at the corner of his mouth lifted. He decided he can't take not feeling you against his skin anymore and removed a hand from behind him, bringing it to your waist to steady your body. You mewled when he touched you, not realizing you missed his touch until he placed his hand on your hip. You take one of your hands that was at your breast and move it to hold onto Toji's hand.
"Cock so fucking big." You sighed as you continued to feel his tip deep in your cervix. His cock pulsed inside you this time, twitching when your tepid walls embraced him. Your cunt throbbed, hugging him tightly to beg for his seed. Toji groaned at the feeling, moving the hand from your hip to your ass. He caressed the fat before spanking it ruthlessly. You shout and threw your head back as the sting echoes throughout the surface.
"Biggest cock you ever fucking had, huh mama?" Toji asked of you. He witnessed your face contort in pleasure as you nodded shamelessly.
"MMmmm, yes Ji." You're drunk off the thickness, feeling your cunt tightening up and that thread deep in your belly become taut. You felt it coming and you were biting your lip to brace yourself for the messy spout about to erupt from between your legs.
"You a squirter, y/n?" Toji already had an inkling what was fixing to take place. You nodded, hurling your hips down faster as you felt it coming promptly. The feeling knocked into you when Toji's cruel thumb traced circles on your nub. You wailed, screeching as your cunt sprayed all over Toji, soaking his pelvis and hairs once more.
"Toji!" You panted while you rutted your hips greedily to let the last few spurts of squirt leave your cunt. He grunted and sat up before throwing you off of him and to the side on the bed. You weren't given a chance to register anything before his raven locks dove between your legs.
Plug!Toji has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as his tongue assaulted your folds the second time tonight. His tongue reveled in every last drop as it oozed out of you. Arousal coated his lips and he doesn't mind. He licked his lips before he suckikg at your trembling hole. You whimpered, wanting to run away because of how good his hot muscle felt against you. Toji only gripped your thighs roughly, surely to leave violet reminders that following morning.
"Fuck you think you doing running from me, y/n?" He swore, slapping your thigh and you whimpered.
"Sorry, Toji—" You attempted to apologize but he cut you off.
"Nah, don't "Toji" me now wheres all that daddy shit from earlier huh?" He taunted you, bringing a finger to your awaiting hole and you sighed at the intrusion. You completely forgot he asked you a question when he sunk a second finger inside. A loud squelch sounded out and your eyes rolled back and you moaned. He slapped at your thigh again.
"Fucking answer me, y/n."
"I'm sorry, daddy. Please—” You tried to speak but his fingers curling deep in that one spot left you winded..
"Please what, pretty girl?" He teased, fucking your hole with his fingers and he earned a nasty squelch. His tongue circled your clit and you cry out. Toji’s fat tongue was so mean and overpowering your poor little clit as he fucked it. He earned another gush to coat his fingers and on the sheets.
"Want that dick, daddy." You finished your thought finally. Your pussy finished its second round of squirting and Toji licked at your clit one last time. He traveled down and sucked the arousal from around your folds before he came back up to you. He grabbed onto your face and you opened your eyes, seeing him stare down at you with that precarious darkness in his eyes.
"Open, and I just might give it to you." He said and you obeyed without question. Mouth open, you stuck your tongue out as he gathered the spit and arousal left in his mouth. The liquid is on your tongue and before you can swallow it Toji's mouth chased after you. You moaned in the kiss as your tongues swirled together in a salacious dance. You were so distracted by the kiss you fail to notice he was prepping to slide in until he eased in you.
"Toji—fuck—feels ssssogood!" You slurred underneath the brute man as he fucked you into his mattress. You couldn't keep up, pathetic gasps and whimpers fell from your lips each time he pistoned into you. He only smirked, drunk off the sounds that left your lips. He knew you ain't ever had dick like this before.
"Could say the same about you baby," he looked down at you, his chain bumped into your nose but you don't care, you're in heaven at the feeling, "pussy so pretty, leaky, and creamy can't have no one else fucking my shit." He spoke about you filthily but you don't care — again. You only get enraptured off his words and nodded frantically.
"It's all yours, daddy," you're drunk off his cock as it continued to send you in a lustful spiral, "i promise." You approached your orgasm and threw your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Toji only grunted and continued to fuck deeper into you as you squeezed him tighter.
"All mine huh," you nodded as your eyebrows scrunched up, face contorting into a euphoric expression once more, "that's what i like to fucking hear." He fucked into you faster, his thumb coming to rub on your clit again and you cried. You threw your head back, screaming as you felt your body succumbing to the orgasm.
"To—ji!" You're choking, pussy tight and leaky on Toji's thick cock as you came. You creamed, sucking him in and gushing hard around him. Toji only kept fucking you through your orgasm, his cold chain continuing to dust lightly against your face. You became a whimpering mess underneath him, unable to comprehend anything as overstimulation took over.
"Fucking tight pussy tryna get me to cum in it the first night," Toji chuckles, "shit should I, baby?" You nod your head so fast you should have felt shame for it.
"Want it all, Ji." You tell him and Toji didn't need to be told twice.
You're cumming again when he finally spills himself inside. He grunted and groaned, the sounds melodic to your ears and your cunt twitched around him more. He felt it, continuing to milk his cock with your silky walls and coming down from his high. He looked down at you and saw the roots had turned curly and a light smirk came to his face. A moment passed when you opened your eyes and looked up at him.
You mewled, coming back to Earth and you studied the man who lingered above still. His chain is still swinging against your face but you don't flinch. Dark eyes peered down and you hold his stare for a moment. The scar caught your attention, and the fingers that were on his back found themselves sliding forward to trace along the abrasion.
Plug!Toji tried to ignore the electricity he felt when your manicured finger traced along his skin. The moment felt slightly tender as he held a gaze with you. Something short of vulnerability flashed briefly until he snapped out of it. He hooked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you up from laying on your back and into his lap.
Plug!Toji who sparked a blunt before speaking,
"Once you with me there's no backing out." A subtle warning that once you were tangled with him and his lifestyle that was it. There would be no take backs. You only held his stare and took the blunt from him. You spoke.
"Long as you don't play me for no goofy bitch we good." A subtle warning from your side and you took a hit from the blunt. Toji could only smile sinisterly at your attitude.
"Yes ma'am." He chuckled darkly, taking the blunt back from you before he thinks to himself.
yeah, she'll fit right in.
flash forward a few years later and your life has changed drastically.
You're no longer a bottle girl. Why would you need a job when you had Plug!Toji to take care of you and spoil you to death?
The same went with your apartment. Why did you need to continue to pay expensive ass rent with a mediocre roommate when you had Plug!Toji who was ready to move you into his two floor loft after that first night of fucking?
And last but not least? You're the queen of the city.
Just as violent as Plug!Toji, you always get your way and opposition was always dealt with quickly and efficiently. If one didn't like you, you just prayed for their sake you never met them. Probability very high that the day you two crossed paths would be their last.
Plug!Toji has you as his iced out baby girl who he spoils. He always gets you what you want whenever you ask and men who stared at you a second too long always got punched out by him. Everyone wanted to know who was this one that was always next to Fushiguro. They knew you were someone special to him because Toji never showed up with the same woman more than once, never had a protective hand on their backs at times...
but it was the gold herringbone chain with a "T" brandished clear as day that marked you. Everyone knew it Fushiguro's way of marking you as his.
And you can't help but relish in this new found life of yours. The luxury, opulence, comfort, and excitement it offered to you was unimaginable. Soon after that first night with Plug!Toji, he took care of you instantly. He settled your loans and paid your roommate off to let you break the lease to move into his apartment a month later.
"I need you close to me this shit dangerous. Here, buy you that Saint Laurent bag you been eyein' or somethin just stop that fuckin poutin'.'" Plug!Toji argued, tossing his credit card in your lap on the drive back to his apartment with all your essential stuff in the rear area.
And you did in fact stop pouting and purchased the Saint Laurent purse you had been fawning over. This wasn't the first time Toji asked you to do something and rewarded you when you gave in. As mentioned earlier, you quit your job a couple weeks after meeting him because one time he wanted to see you but you had a shift . . .
"Mane, fucking quit that place, y/n. I take care of you now." You could hear the annoyance in Plug!Toji’s voice as you spoke over the phone, but you were feeling reluctant to agree. Relying completely on him after what you had in your account was gone? You felt uneasy and Toji could sense it. You heard him shuffling on the other end.
"Y/N." He said your name that day and he sounded like he was in a building.
"Yeah, I don't know To-" You started to tell him your thoughts until you heard knocking at your door. You went to answer it, seeing on the other side is none other than Toji. You can't help but roll your eyes as you two hang up. You take in his sexy all black appearance with that signature thick gold herringbone.
Plug!Toji showed up with a present. You two went to your room, you huffed and puffed about how he was going to make you late for work but he ignored you. Toji occupied himself with the jiggle of your ass as you lightly stomped into your room. You had went to the side of the bed, placing the bag there before opening the gift. Toji stood behind you and watched you remove the tissue. You saw the black box, raising your eyebrow as you feel his mischievous hands on your waist and slowly slide up your body. He hands were at your neck when you finally began opening the box.
Plug!Toji sported that signature devilish smirk, moving your hair from your neck as you revealed the gift. You gasped so loud that day.
The gift: a thick gold herringbone necklace similar to Toji's, however yours brandished a "T" in the center. You gasped at how pretty it was but also the slight meaning behind it.
"Toji.." You were still in awe as he began kissing on your neck, moving his hands back down to your waist. He naughtily licks a stripe along your pulse, causing your knees to buckle. He held you up before bringing his lips to your ear.
"Quit that fucking place, y/n."
You didn't even hesitate and immediately agreed that you would.
And moments later, you were riding him with nothing on but that pretty gold herringbone chain.
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bonus scene:
present time: you lay pretty in a bathtub, rose and cinnamon filling the air. The ambience relaxing and romantic with your plenty bubbles and aromatic candles lit. Your muscles were slowly releasing the tension from a long day of shopping. A way to decompress after a stressful week of being the fiancé of the notorious Plug!Toji.
Plug!Toji who finds you sitting beautiful. Your eyes are opening, sensing he arrived and your lips shift into a sensual smirk. All day you missed your man and seeing him waltz through the door all tall and delicious you were ready to pounce. Your eyes sank seductively and Toji watches that look pass over you. He sits on the side of the tub as you speak.
"I missed you today, daddy." You speak.
"Missed you too baby," his eyes look you over before speaking, "come out that tub we both know you aint tryna bathe right now." A cocky smirk on his lips and you can only chuckle. However, you get up, standing up from the water and letting the suds and bubbles run with the water down your enticing frame. Toji licks his lips, watching the bubbles fall from your tits, stomach, hips, and between your thighs. He watches intensely as you step out, water lands on the floor but the two of you didn't care as you stand before him. You grab the towel from the sink and hand it to Toji. He leans down and grabs your wet calf, bringing your foot onto his knee as he begins drying your leg off.
You look at his lap, seeing his dick laying against his leg through the tight slacks he was wearing. You bring your foot up, sliding it until your toes were pressing into the print.
"You hard already, Toji" You tease him, he only looks at you sinisterly, knowing he was about to have fun with you tonight.
"Don't play these games y/n you know I aint the mufucka for that." He warns.
"What games, daddy?" You press your toes harder and before you can register the mean look he gave you he swiftly pulls you into his lap. The towel is gone and you're squealing, giggling even because you know you're about to get put in your place.
"Oh we actin' brand new? That's cool." He strikes your ass, earning a lament of shock.
"Get your fucking ass on the bed so i can break this fucking pussy so you don't fucking forget shit again."
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©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!
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jazzyoranges · 5 months
Text
Pinky Promise - drabble
Tara Carpenter x gn!reader
Summary: cuddly Tara strikes again
Words: 0.9k
A/n: very much inspired by this fic, please go read it i beg you
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This was your worst fucking nightmare. Well, something close to this.
You’d expect maybe Anika or Mindy to set you up for failure, but your own mother? You were her kin, for christ’s sake!
Not to mention the woman knew what she was doing. Once she pulled the “Oh, it seems there isn’t enough beds for all your friends! My, I must’ve counted wrong!” You knew it was over from the start.
Mindy and Anika shared a bed, Chad and Ethan shared an air bed, leaving Tara to sleep on the couch. Which, you offered Tara to sleep in your room while you slept on the couch, but god did she make it fucking hard. The brunette insisted you sleep on your bed since you were the one driving most of the time during the road trip, but unfortunately your urge for hospitality rivaled her
You argued Tara looked far sleepier, and you thought it was settled when she didn’t respond
You were pretty fucking wrong.
When the time came and you eventually left your bathroom to go to the living room, you don’t expect to see a Tara in a band tee that was about two sizes too big on her, Hello Kitty shorts that barely poked out of her large shirt, and a bunny stuffed animal you gave her not too long ago
She grabbed your hand before you knew what was happening, and pulled you into your room. Half of the reason why you didn’t want to sleep in there was because of how you could distinctly tell your teenage self wore too much eye makeup and chains. The thought makes you cringe, and Tara only laughed at your expression
“Let’s go to bed, please?” You should’ve fucking said no. But how were you supposed to? Tara was looking up at you with her big brown eyes, a shirt that was probably yours, and a sad expression. You couldn’t have said no if you tried.
So here you were, looking at the ceiling in a small bed with Tara’s back touching your arm. A blanket covered her entire body while it only covered your midsection with your hands fidgeting on top of it
You feel the younger Carpenter shiver due to your close proximity, and you realize it’s actually cold in the house. Well, you were awake and you did live here, so it was probably your responsibility to make sure everyone was comfortable. If Tara was cold, everyone else probably was too
It takes a little maneuvering to get up with as little squeaks as possible, but you’re eventually successful. You think so, until you feel something around your wrist
“Don’t sleep on the couch…” You hear Tara mumble half asleep
“You were shivering, I’m changing the temperature” You whisper back, leaning towards her as she huffs
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
Your forehead wrinkles as you think, but you eventually have an idea
“I pinky promise” You stick out the small digit of your hand, and Tara eventually meets you halfway. When she lets go you assume she approves of your leave
The journey to the thermostat isn’t a very long one and you’re back in about a minute, the only challenge being not running up the stairs because you’re afraid of the dark
Tara acts like you’ve been away for years when you come back. Once you’re in arm distance, she pulls you down very quickly
“S’not enough, still cold” Tara mumbles into your chest as she crawls on top of you like it’s nobody’s business. Her arms trap you on both sides after she pulls the blanket over you both. You can tell she’s warm when she sighs and makes sure you know how comfortable you are
“You’re like a teddy bear… my teddy bear” You don’t know how to respond, but Tara obviously does
“I can’t believe you got up for nothing”
“The others might’ve been cold, you know”
“The others can fuck off” Tara yelps when you pinch her nose
“Don’t be mean”
“Mmm… whatever” The brunette sighs again, who’s now in a position with you that resembles a cheetah and their support dog
Now this was your worst fucking nightmare.
Tara, god bless bless her, was a light sleeper. If you moved an inch she’d feel it but now that she was on top of you, you were really fucked
“You’re tense”
“Go to sleep” You whisper
“Pillows are supposed to be soft, not hard” She whispers back, looking directly into your eyes
“Last time I checked, people aren’t supposed to be pillows” Tara snickers at your dumb joke and you resist the urge to poke at her dimples
“Now you’ve got me all awake”
“Be so for real, you’d fall asleep instantly if I stopped talking to you”
“Yeah, you’re right. I would” The brunette rubs her cheek against your shirt, almost like she’s trying to burrow into your chest. A few moments pass, and you’re finally feeling the effects of driving for most of the day. You can feel your body relax more every second
“I love you” Tara whispers so quietly you don’t know if you’re hearing her correctly. You fall asleep before you figure it out
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Infernal Shadows 04.
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it, last part was a cliffhanger but here we are surviving :) Some background on Madame and I pray you guys get the reference with the name of the exorcist
A/N: I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!! I finally got this out and I added to it so this is a longer chapter than anticipated. I’m so horribly sorry for taking forever to get this out, I had like so many reports to do for my job and this was just calling to me. I hope you guys didn’t forget this and if you did I totally don’t blame you. Not to fret though, I have big plans coming soon, and I’m pushing for longer chapters to keep you people fed. I love you all so so so much! Happy reading and thank you for being so patient and for all the kind messages I got! As for the taglist, I’m afraid it’s closed as of right now, just because I physically cannot tag anymore people on these posts, so I’ll try to figure something out with that!
Tags: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @only-cherry-blossom @sockgoblin @nxrdamp @1-800-no-users-left @l0ca1ax010t1 @inutheangel @reader-of-worlds @writing-fanics @random-person07 @ghostdoodlen @elaemae @fantasy-angelo @tanjirosworld @patchesofdreams @sunnyslug @reineurynome @scoliobean @arrozyfrijoles23 @kimmikreates @lqmons @amarokofficial @mangobango69
Word count: 5694
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity writes (event)!! // Part three //
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Charlie had almost jumped out of her seat upon seeing the excorsist by your side. The water spout collapsing quickly, water violently splashing all around. A crowd of ‘ooh’s and ah’s could be heard from the crowd as you finally revealed the exorcist to everyone, allowing the sinners around to get a better look at the pet with you. The exorcist next to you was a woman, who looked fairly young. Her wings were large, white feathers with a sheer hint of gold. Her skin was ghostly white, and her eyes were equally as pale, almost a ghost. she looked around quickly, turning in her spot on the ground next to you, where she was kneeling. Her wrists were bound by chains and she stood quickly, wings flaring out. Yet, amid the spectacle, Charlotte couldn't help but notice a flicker of sorrow in the exorcist's pale eyes.
You stood next to her calmly, playing the violin as she stood, flying off the ground and up the middle of the coliseum, flying as quickly as she good. Her long hair, white with golden streaks, flowing as she flew up. Before she could get out however, a long black chain appeared around her neck, pulling her backward quickly, choking her. Her eyes went wide, hand reaching out to the sky above, a silent reach for heaven, before her angelic body was pulled back into the floor of the coliseum, body hitting the hard ground with a loud thud, the floor cracking beneath her upon the impact. Black chains began to hold onto her legs, her chest and neck as she fought against it, the chains lifting her high enough in the air for the crowd to see, making a mockery out of her, out of the exorcists above.
Charlotte's eyes widened, mirroring the shock and disbelief etched across her face as she witnessed the angelic exorcist's dramatic entrance. Alastor, usually composed, betrayed a subtle flicker of concern, his stoic demeanor momentarily shaken.
As the exorcist's wings unfurled, the sheer beauty of her appearance contrasted sharply with the ominous chains that bound her. The crowd's collective gasp echoed, drowning out the earlier applause.
Alastor's grip on his opera glasses tightened, a silent acknowledgment of the unforeseen depth this performance had taken. The music continued, but now there was an undertone of tension, each note echoing the internal struggle of the exorcist. Just the way you had intended.
The audience's gasps turned into uneasy whispers. Charlotte glanced at Alastor, finding a mix of fascination and unease in his expression. His smile looked almost painful, like a touch to him would have him shatter on the spot. She was not used to seeing him this way. Something was oddly unsettling about having him next to her in this way.
“Should we be watching this?” Velvet leans over to ask Vox, sketch book long discarded. He says nothing, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight before him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen an exorcist, but this sight was different in itself. You were basically manhandling an exorcist right in front of everyone. This was holy power you were messing with. Tauntingly, making a fool out of this poor innocent girl. Vox wasn’t sure if he was supposed to run away, tail between his legs, or sit and watch the way you had wanted. To obey or disobey, like a dog.
The song was finally at its peak, the angels wings spread to its full length as she fought to get away, thrashing about as she fought again the chains. Charlotte feels her own throat tighten, her heart feeling heavy.
“I can’t watch.” Charlotte said, standing and moving to take her leave, but a large shadow blocked her path.
“Madame requests that you stay here.” The shadow spoke. Charlotte was silent and though she wanted to argue, decided against it.
Amidst the tension, the atmosphere in the coliseum grew heavier, the ethereal music now echoing a dissonant melody. As the angelic exorcist continued her struggle, a figure emerged from the shadows – a mysterious character, their presence felt more than seen.
This enigmatic figure, shrouded in darkness, approached Charlotte with a whispered urgency. "You hold the key to her liberation," the voice murmured, barely audible over the haunting notes of the violin. "Will you break the chains or become a spectator to her demise?"
Charlotte, conflicted and sensing a greater responsibility, looked at the shadowy figure, determination flickering in her eyes. With a newfound resolve, she turned towards the restrained exorcist, seeking a way to intervene and unravel the unsettling performance that had taken a dark turn. The coliseum, once a mere stage for entertainment, now stood witness to a moral crossroads where choices weighed heavily on the hearts of those present, and it was definitely making Charlotte contemplate her whole reason for being here.
Alastor's sharp warning reverberates through the air, his stern tone emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Interruption during Madame's performance is ill-advised, my dear. It is best not to meddle in affairs beyond your understanding." he cautions, a hint of a threat underlying his words.
Rosie, with a more nurturing but firm approach, guides Charlotte back to her seat. "It's not the time, hon. Madame's got her ways, and we don't want trouble. Just watch and let it play out," Rosie advises, her gaze mirroring a subtle concern for Charlotte's safety.
As Charlotte reluctantly takes her seat, the tension in the coliseum persists, the haunting music and the struggling exorcist creating an eerie symphony that held everyone in a state of suspense. The shadowy figure lingers, observing the unfolding drama with a watchful gaze, leaving an air of mystery and uncertainty in its wake.
The resounding crash echoes through the coliseum as the angelic exorcist succumbs to the relentless chains, her divine form colliding with the unforgiving ground. The spectators, now silent witnesses to the spectacle's unsettling conclusion, feel the vibrations of the impact reverberate through the arena.
The once-beautiful performance has transformed into a scene of somber defeat, the ethereal music now hauntingly melancholic. The shadows that enshrouded the coliseum seem to deepen, casting an eerie gloom over the aftermath.
The mysterious figure in the shadows maintains a watchful presence, its intentions still unclear as the audience processes the unsettling turn of events. The coliseum, leaving an indelible mark on the collective psyche of those who bore witness. As the ethereal music slowly fades to silence, the chains metamorphose into spectral figures, gracefully carrying the defeated angel away. The abrupt stillness in the coliseum feels eerie, the aftermath of the performance leaving the guests, including Charlotte, in a state of uneasy reflection.
The band, once vivid and lively, dissipates like wisps of smoke, leaving an empty stage behind. Madame, now standing alone in the center of the coliseum, is joined by the largest shadow, a looming presence beside her. The shadowy figure addresses the hushed audience, explaining that they will be escorted back to Madame's home for dinner. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next act awaits within the walls of Madame's mansion. Your journey through her realm has only just begun.”
The guests, still processing the unsettling performance, are ushered towards their tables with a sense of quiet trepidation. The coliseum, now devoid of the vibrant spectacle, transforms into a place of anticipation as the guests prepare for the next act in Madame's enigmatic domain. Charlotte, visibly shaken, moves among the disquieted crowd. Zestial stands out, his calm demeanor contrasting with the collective unease. His eyes reveal a depth of understanding, leaving Charlotte to wonder what he really thought of the performance. As they return to Madame's home, the charged atmosphere persists, leaving everyone to ponder what awaits them in the next act of this mysterious and haunting night.
The shadows lead those seated privately with Madame through a mysterious portal, transporting them to a large, black room. The windows, tinted black from floor to ceiling, create an otherworldly aura. Bowls of floating fire cast dancing shadows around the room, adding an element of mystique. In the center stands an impressive dining table, crafted from black wood with matching black chairs adorned with white cushions.
White plates with a gold lining are meticulously arranged, each bearing a name card. The order mirrors the sequence in which the guests were initially invited: Alastor, Vox, Charlie, Velvet, Zestial, Carmilla, and Rosie. Three empty seats capture attention, the most prominent being the grand and ornate chair at the head of the table – undoubtedly Madame's seat.
However, two other unoccupied chairs add a layer of intrigue. One is positioned across from Madame, and the other is to her right. Vox, leaning casually against the black dining table, raises an eyebrow as he scans the unoccupied chairs. "So, did Madame forget to send out a couple more invites, or did she just not bother finding anyone else worth inviting?" His tone, dripping with casual disdain, prompts an involuntary eye twitch from Alastor and a scoff from Carmilla. The room is momentarily tense as the guests settle into their seats, the air thick with unspoken tension and the promise of an unconventional dining.
The large shadow materializes behind Madame's chair the moment everyone takes their seats. It speaks with a commanding presence,
"Madame will be joining you shortly, ensuring the guests are properly situated in the main dining hall. For now, you may all start with the drink of your choice."
As the shadow's words linger, the room is filled with the appearance of various drinks, each guest's preference seemingly anticipated. The other shadows swiftly deliver the beverages before seamlessly vanishing from view. In their place, a small orchestra emerges from the darkest corners of the room, ready to weave a musical tapestry that will accompany the unfolding feast.
The atmosphere in the black room remains charged with a sense of anticipation, the guests left to wonder about the mysteries that await in Madame's unconventional and enigmatic domain.
The anticipation peaks as the celestial display unfolds outside the tinted windows. Stars twinkle in the vast darkness, and constellations take shape, transforming the black room into a cosmic spectacle. The guests, mesmerized by the celestial scene, exchange awed glances.
”Oh this is so beautiful.” Charlotte says, glancing around at the stars.
In the midst of this ethereal backdrop, Madame makes her grand entrance. A sweeping gust of shadow accompanies her, like a cloak billowing in an unseen breeze. She moves gracefully, her silhouette weaving through the darkness, and steps into the room with an air of an almost royal confidence.
Madame wears an elaborate gown that seems to absorb and reflect the celestial light. Its deep, dark hues shimmer with a glow, adorned with intricate patterns that evoke the mysteries of the night sky, certainly fitting her specticle. Her presence commands attention, and a hushed silence falls over the room as the guests turn their gaze towards her.
A soft, melodic hum emanates from Madame, resonating with the orchestral tunes. The shadows, now at her command, align to form a fleeting silhouette of wings that unfurl and then disappear into the darkness. She takes her seat at the grand table, her eyes gleaming with a haunting form of excitement.
As Madame takes her seat, the celestial display beyond the windows intensifies, casting a glow over the dining room. The shadows, now intricately woven into ethereal patterns, dance along the walls, adding to the surreal atmosphere. With a graceful gesture, Madame signals the waitstaff shadows to present the first course. Exquisite dishes are unveiled, each a culinary masterpiece designed to tantalize the senses. Alastor’s eyes light up as his favorite dish is revealed — Jambalaya. Rich and spicy, it perfectly captures his love for bold and vibrant flavors.
Vox, always one for extravagance, is presented with Sushi. Delicate sushi rolls arranged like musical notes create a visual and auditory delight, harmonizing with each flavorful bite. Meanwhile, Velvet savors the spicy noodles on her plate, a cosmic array of ingredients adorning handmade noodles, reflecting her love for adventurous flavors.
Charlotte’s palate is delighted with the Harmony of Garden Greens, a vibrant salad showcasing fresh and wholesome ingredients. Zestial’s preference for refined flavors is indulged with a nice tender steak. Carmilla indulges in an enchanting dark Chocolate Fondue, a decadent dessert that mirrors her taste for the luxurious. Rosie, captivated by sweetness and charm, enjoys a stellar Strawberry Shortcake, a heavenly creation adorned with edible flowers. Rosie was grateful Madame hadn’t served her limbs this evening, though the craving was very much there.
As the guests savor their feast, Vox, unable to resist his penchant for stirring conversation, attempts to broach the topic of the enigmatic exorcist from Madame's previous performance. "Madame, that exorcist bit was quite the show, don't you think? Who was she, and why the dramatics?" Vox inquires with his signature flair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Though Alastor would never admit it, he was silently appreciative Vox was the one to voice the question. He knew Madame would have his head if he dared to ask. A large grin is displayed as he awaits Madame’s response. Knowing she is intolerant of being questioned on her decisions.
Madame, however, responds with a stern and unwavering gaze. "Vox, some matters are not for idle chatter. Rest assured, when the time is right, I will provide the explanation that is due." Her tone, though firm, carries a sense of ancient wisdom that tempers Vox's usual audacity. Alastor just grins to himself, happy she did not disappoint.
Carmilla, sensitive to the undercurrents of unease, feels a shiver down her spine. The cryptic response leaves her uneasy, but she keeps her feelings to herself. Madame's words hang in the air, a subtle reminder that there are depths to this realm that remain veiled. She is in control.
The aura intensifies as the orchestra weaves a haunting melody, adding an ethereal backdrop to the exchange. The guests, now caught in the delicate dance of shadows, flavors, and unspoken mysteries, await the unfolding of Madame's narrative. However, to their dismay, she leaves them empty handed.
The small orchestra adapts it’s tunes, complementing the dining room with melodies that resonate with the mysteries of Madame. The music sways between haunting and enchanting, guiding the guests through an experience that transcends the ordinary.
"I hope the food is to everyone's enjoyment," Madame remarks, her plate being set in front of her last. The guests, captivated by the transcendent feast, eagerly dig into their respective dishes. As the flavors unfold on their palates, a chorus of satisfaction fills the room.
“These are quite excellent.” Carmilla comments as she enjoys her meal. Madame only nods in response. Compliments flow freely from the guests to Madame and the shadows, expressions of delight escaping between bites. Alastor, savoring his Jambalaya, commends the bold and vibrant flavors.
The room resonates with the sounds of enjoyment, and Rosie, with the Strawberry Shortcake, receives nods of approval for the delightful sweetness. Madame, her strong composure unwavering, listens to the compliments with a hint of satisfaction. Everyone enjoys being praised.
As the melodies of the cosmos continue to weave through the air, the dining room becomes a mix of flavor and enchantment. The guests, immersed in the extraordinary experience, savor each moment, aware that this transcendent feast is not just a meal but the start to something haunting.
Things could not be peaceful forever though. Madame pushed back a bit and stood, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.
“I would like to thank you all for being such pleasant guests tonight. I do believe a lot has happened since the last extermination. I am aware you overlords, or the ones that had the decency to show up, are aware that we must do something to protect our souls. Which begs the question.” Madame stops, taking her time to look at everyone. “What do you plan to do when the exorcists come down here to kill you all?” She asks bluntly. Carmilla inhales sharply not saying much, which Zestial just sips a cup of tea, his usual. Alastor and Rosie exchange a glance, but before anyone can say anything, Vox interjects.
“Well Madame I think you’ll be pleased to know Vox-tech has been working on protection for the people and-“
“Do you really think a piece of technology will stop this?” Madame asks. Her eyes narrow at him, and Vox silently sinks into his seat. Madame sighs, her shadow pulling her chair farther back so she can walk around the table, to the empty seat across from her. “Since you all clearly have no clue what to do, I presume I’ll share my idea.” Madame says, before she snaps her fingers. In an instant, a large shadow, almost in the shape of a sphere, forms next to her. It’s whispy and hyperactive, almost alive, before it sinks to the ground. Slowly it’s fades away. The guests stand, wanting to get a closer look, before the shadow turns to fog, and falls away. There in it’s place is the exorcist from the coliseum.
“Madame-!” Carmilla says, but is met with a stern look from Madame.
“Something wrong?” She asked. A chain formed around the exorcists neck, one that wrapped around Madame’s hand. She holds it tight, like she’s holding a wild animal back. Velvet wonders if this is because she’s afraid, or excited.
“Go on. Speak.” Madame says to the girl next to her. She looks down at the ground, a bit bruised but shining brightly nevertheless.
“I do not wish-to fight.” The girl says, and Madame just smiles.
“Let her go.” Charlotte says. The overlords look at Charlotte with a surprised expression. Madame says nothing, and instead tilts her head to look at Charlotte.
“Let her go?” Madame repeats, and Charlotte nods.
“Yes. Let her go.” Charlotte says, suddenly feeling nervous. Madame doesn’t appear to be upset, which only confuses and makes Charlotte even more anxious.
“Very well then. Have it your way.” Madame says, dropping the chained leash. Suddenly, the exorcist flies up and lunges at Zestial, attacking him. The overlords all disperse, watching as he throws her off of him.
“No! Wait stop!” Charlotte says, trying to get the situation under control. Alastor’s eyes widen, and he grins, tentacles appearing from the ground quickly, attempting to scare her by attacking her wings. The moment his tentacle touches the feathers on her back, it burns, and Alastor pulls back immediately, seemingly confused. The room erupts in screams and chaos, Rosie attempting to get the exorcist away from her as she tries to kill her.
“My dear, you do realize the mess you’ve made, yes?” Alastor asks as he summons himself next to Madame. She stands by the windows, the starts casting an almost colorful display over her, making her seem ethereal. Madame nods.
“Well then maybe you should get Lilith’s pet under control.” Madame inquires. Alastor just grins, nodding before lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.
“Of course Madame.” He says, before fading into his shadow. Carmilla stands next to a tired Zestial, while Velvet and Vox stand on the dining table, holding onto each other for dear life, while Rosie takes to poking fun at the exorcist, who seems to only want to harm Charlotte at this point.
“You filthy girl-!” The exorcist cries, before she chokes, a black chain wrapping around her neck quickly, and pulling her back.
“Enough Evangeline.” Madame says sharply. At this, the exorcist grows quiet almost immediately. Charlotte is in tears and on the floor, Alastor picking her up by her underarms, setting her straight.
“This is why you be quiet.” Alastor whispered to Charlotte.
“Oh~ that was fun! Let’s do this again.” Rosie says delightfully. Madame just nods to her, an unreadable expression adorning her features.
“Yes, let’s.” Madame says, tugging Evangeline’s chain sharply. Evangeline stands, now looking a bit shorter than Madame, while Madame’s shadows remove Vox and Velvet from the dining table. Quickly, everything is back in order, as Madame ushers the guests to take their seats. Now, Evangeline sits at the head of the table, across from Madame.
“Everyone, this is Evangeline, my sister.”
“Sister?” Vox asks, shying away from the exorcist.
“Didn’t you hear her?” Velvet asks, nudging him with her elbow. He just nods, but says nothing.
“Yes. Sister. I’ve obtained her for one reason and that reason only.” Madame said, before Zestial interjected.
“What reason doth that be?” Zestial asks. Madame just smiles, with a snap of her fingers, Evangeline is turned around, wings sprawled out.
“To send a message of course.” Madame says. Before a paper is presented to all the guests.
“During the extermination I had the pleasure of speaking to Adam.”
”Wait Adam like, first man Adam?” Velvet asked, and Madame nods.
“Yes, him. He believes he can wipe us out fairly quickly. He said he’d be back for me specifically.” Madame said, looking out to the windows, before continuing. “So, I decided it would be best if we sent him a lovely letter. Charlotte,” Madame said, “I know you spoke to him recently. If he wants to come to your hotel, I believe it’s only right we make other areas just as much of a target.” Madame said, before Carmilla frowned.
”Why should we? Won’t that make us all targets?” Carmilla asked. Madame nodded.
“Yes, but with too many locations they’ll spread themselves thin.” Madame said.
“Why are we talking about this in front of her?” Rosie asked, pointing to Evangeline. “Won’t she just tell them what we’re planning?” Rosie asked. Madame shrugged.
”Possibly. I never said she was going back alive.” Madame said. “But this topic can wait. I’m ready for dessert.” She said, and suddenly shadows were back with all kinds of desserts in the middle of the table. Evangeline was now facing the rest of the guests, all who stared at her with a predatory gaze.
Y/n L/n was born in the year 1885, with her sister, Evangeline, arriving in 1887, just two years apart. Y/n was the eldest among her siblings, having two younger sisters and a younger brother. Sadly, the youngest sister passed away at the tender age of twelve, a victim to scarlet fever. Despite this tragedy, Evangeline remained the darling of the town, known for her innocence and beloved by all. Meanwhile, their brother Arthur matured at a quicker pace than Evangeline.
The family's prosperity stemmed from being victims of the Salem witch trials back in the 1600s. This dark history actually served as a catalyst, enabling their ancestors to establish a business that had been passed down through generations, making Y/n the rightful heir. Initially, the business catered to workers and provided scrubs, but Y/n had grander visions.
Under Y/n's leadership, the business transformed from producing simple workwear to crafting exquisite dresses, corsets, feathered hats, and other fashionable garments. These creations were designed to empower young women and elevate their sense of self-esteem, departing from the mundane work attire of the past.
As word spread of the boutique's exceptional offerings, affluent families began flocking to Y/n's establishment, seeking custom dresses and elegant accessories. Evangeline, always cheerful and accommodating, played a pivotal role in welcoming and attending to the guests while Y/n conducted business.
Despite the initial success and harmony, ominous clouds loomed on the horizon, signaling that peace and tranquility might not last forever.
Evangeline's heart fluttered whenever she was around Alexander, a charming and charismatic gentleman who frequented the boutique who was also from a wealthy family. Their budding romance seemed like a fairy tale at first, but little did Evangeline know, Alexander harbored hidden agendas. But Y/n could see it from a mile away. But alas, she let her younger sister be. She did not feel threatened by Alexander. To her, he was simply another walking wallet right into her arms.
As their relationship deepened, Alexander subtly planted seeds of doubt about Y/n in Evangeline's mind. He would gently question Y/n's decisions, pointing out areas where he believed Evangeline could excel if given more freedom.
"My darling Evangeline," Alexander would whisper, his voice dripping with honeyed words, "you're a diamond in the rough, waiting to shine. But Y/n's cautious approach is holding you back. Imagine what you could achieve with your own vision."
Evangeline, enamored and impressionable, began to see Y/n's protective actions as barriers to her dreams rather than safeguards for their family's legacy. Alexander's persuasive arguments fueled Evangeline's desire for independence and recognition.
"You deserve more than being just Y/n's shadow," Alexander would say, his eyes filled with feigned concern. "Don't let fear of failure hold you back. Take risks, Evangeline. Follow your heart."
Unaware of Alexander's ulterior motives, Evangeline started to view Y/n's guidance and decisions with skepticism. She began to prioritize her relationship with Alexander over the family's business, inadvertently straining her bond with Y/n.
As Alexander's influence grew, Evangeline's perception of Y/n shifted, painting Y/n as overly controlling and unsupportive of her aspirations. The once-close sisters found themselves on opposite ends, with Alexander's manipulative tactics driving a wedge between them.
Behind the facade of love and affection, Alexander manipulated Evangeline's emotions and perceptions, using her vulnerability to further his own agenda. The tangled web of romance and manipulation threatened to unravel the familial harmony Y/n had worked so hard to maintain.
One evening, as Evangeline sat in her room at the family estate, Alexander approached her with a concerned expression. "Evangeline, my love," he began, "I've noticed something troubling about Y/n's management of the business. It seems she's keeping you in the dark about important decisions."
Evangeline furrowed her brow, surprised by Alexander's revelation. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Alexander leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "I've heard whispers among the staff," he confided, "about Y/n making decisions behind your back, as if she doesn't trust you with the business's future. You deserve to have a voice, Evangeline. You shouldn't be kept in the dark."
Doubt crept into Evangeline's mind as she pondered Alexander's words. She had always trusted Y/n implicitly, but Alexander's claims sowed seeds of suspicion and resentment. "But Y/n has always had our family's best interests at heart," Evangeline countered weakly.
"Of course, my dear," Alexander reassured her, his tone soothing. "But perhaps Y/n fears that your ideas and vision might outshine hers. You're more than capable, Evangeline. Don't let anyone keep you from realizing your full potential."
In the following days, Alexander's subtle manipulation and peer pressure intensified. He highlighted instances where Y/n had made decisions without consulting Evangeline, portraying Y/n as controlling and domineering. "You're the future of this business, Evangeline," he would say, planting seeds of ambition and discord.
Fueled by Alexander's influence, Evangeline confronted Y/n during a heated family meeting about the business's direction. "Why are you keeping me in the dark, Y/n?" Evangeline demanded, her voice trembling with emotion. "I deserve to be involved in every decision!"
Y/n, taken aback by Evangeline's sudden hostility, tried to explain. "Evangeline, I've always valued your input, but some decisions require swift action. I never intended to keep you in the dark." Y/n would say sternly, trying to keep her composure.
But Alexander's words echoed in Evangeline's mind, clouding her judgment and fueling her resolve to assert herself in the business. The once-unbreakable bond between the sisters fractured under the weight of manipulation and misunderstandings, orchestrated by Alexander's cunning tactics.
Evangline’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she and Alexander stood before Y/n, their announcement hanging in the air like a storm about to break.
“We’re engaged, Y/n,” Evangeline exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. “And we believe it’s time for me to take over the business. After all, I’ll be married soon and would want to pass it down to our children someday.”
Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief as Evangeline and Alexander stood before her, their engagement bombshell hanging heavily in the air. The room fell silent as Y/n processed the news, her shock palpable.
“You’re getting engaged without even discussing it with me first?” Y/n’s voice cracked with incredulity, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and hurt.
Evangeline, caught off guard by Y/n’s reaction, tried to explain. “Y/n, we thought you would be happy for us,” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.
But Y/n’s shock quickly turned into frustration and anger. “Happy for you?” Y/n’s tone sharpened, her words laced with bitterness. “How can I be happy when you’re making decisions that affect our entire family without even consulting me?”
Evangeline’s expression faltered, her eyes filling with tears. “But Y/n, I love Alexander, and we want to build a future together,” she pleaded.
Y/n’s emotions boiled over, her hurt turning into harsh words aimed at Evangeline. “Love blinds you, Evangeline,” Y/n snapped, her voice rising. “You’re being manipulated, and you don’t even see it!”
Evangeline’s tears spilled over as Y/n’s words hit home. “I’m not being manipulated, Y/n,” she protested, her voice trembling.
But Y/n’s frustration didn’t stop there. Her gaze turned to Alexander, her tone dripping with disdain. “And you,” Y/n directed her anger at him, “using Evangeline to get to our family fortune, shamelessly preying on her innocence and trust.”
Alexander’s facade of charm faltered for a moment, his expression betraying a hint of unease. “I assure you, Y/n, my intentions are genuine,” he tried to placate her.
But Y/n wasn’t buying it. “Genuine? You’re nothing but a leech, Alexander,” Y/n’s words cut through the tension, her anger simmering beneath the surface. “I won’t let you manipulate our family for your selfish gain.”
As the tension escalates during the argument, Evangeline turns to Y/n, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. “What do you mean, Y/n?” she asks, her voice trembling with emotion.
Y/n’s expression hardens, her resolve firm as she faces Evangeline. “The whole family can see it, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is resolute, her words cutting through the air. “Alexander is just after our money, and he’s using you to get to it.”
Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock, disbelief evident on her face. “No, that’s not true,” she protests, her voice tinged with desperation.
But Y/n doesn’t back down. “Open your eyes, Evangeline,” Y/n urges, her voice filled with urgency. “He drove Arthur away from you, manipulated him to keep you to himself. He’s tearing our family apart for his own selfish motives.”
The weight of Y/n’s words hangs heavily in the air, the truth of the situation sinking in for Evangeline amidst the chaos of emotions and accusations.
In response to Y/n’s accusations, Alexander turns to Evangeline with a dismissive smirk, his tone dripping with condescension. “Evangeline, Y/n is lying,” he asserts confidently. “She’s never been in love, so she wouldn’t even know what she’s talking about.”
Evangeline, torn between her trust in Alexander and the unsettling doubts planted by Y/n’s words, looks to him for reassurance. “But Alexander, I love you,” she insists, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
Alexander’s charm kicks into full gear as he takes Evangeline’s hand, his gaze filled with faux affection. “And I love you, my dear,” he replies smoothly. “Don’t let Y/n’s jealousy and lies cloud your judgment. We have a future together, away from all this drama.”
As the tension reaches its peak, Y/n’s resolve remains unyielding as she delivers a stark ultimatum to Evangeline. “If you choose to marry him, Evangeline, I will never speak to you again,” Y/n’s voice is firm, her words carrying the weight of finality. “You will be disowned from the family and removed from the business entirely.”
Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock and hurt, her voice barely above a whisper as she asks, “Why are you doing this to me, Y/n?”
Y/n’s expression softens for a moment, but her determination doesn’t waver. “I’m thinking of the family business, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is unwavering, her words laced with a mix of sadness and pragmatism. “I’m thinking of what will benefit us, not silly emotions like love that can be manipulated and used against us.”
The gravity of Y/n’s decision hangs heavily in the air, the rift between the sisters widening as Evangeline grapples with the harsh reality of Y/n’s ultimatum.
Evangeline's voice trembles with a mix of defiance and sorrow as she tells Y/n, "I'm going to marry Alexander anyway, Y/n." Her eyes reflect a sense of resignation, knowing the rift her decision will create between her and her sister.
Y/n receives the wedding invitation in the mail, her heart heavy as she reads Evangeline's words inviting them to the wedding. Despite the hurt in Evangeline's voice, Y/n remains steadfast in her decision not to attend, unwilling to condone a union she strongly opposes. This choice further deepens the rift between the sisters, leaving Evangeline feeling the pain of their absence on her special day.
“You don’t need her anyway.” Alexander says to Evangeline when she tells him how hurt she was her sibling did not show up.
In 1901, tragedy strikes as Evangeline dies during childbirth. The funeral is held, and Y/n, Arthur, and Evangeline’s only child, a son, attend. However, Alexander chooses not to attend and sends his son with the nanny instead. Y/n isn’t surprised, but she did debate going to their estate to tell Alexander how much of a horrible husband he was.
In 1915, Y/n tragically dies from poisoning due to alcohol. The family faces yet another loss, marking the end of an era filled with turmoil and strained relationships. Arthur is the last sibling left, the head of the business, and serves out his life fulfilling Y/n’s visions, making her the face of the family name forever.
“You always did only worry about yourself.” Evangeline thought to herself as she began her dessert.
692 notes · View notes
hello-eden · 2 months
Text
Polaris meets constellation
Damian was quite confused. For all Mother spend time with him, it is usually overseeing his training or the two of them talking in one of their rooms. Mother never takes him out of Nanda Parbat.
Mother makes it sound as if it's a birthday gift. His birthday was 3 weeks ago, Damien knows mother knows it was 3 weeks ago, she was there for the celebration.
Damian can feel as the plane touches down onto the ground. Mother makes no show of asking him to follow her; she knows that he will. 
Damian doesn't think that he's ever seen mother outside of Nanda Parbat.
They seem to have landed in a forest. The entire Forest is a sea of lush greens and browns. He can hear animal noises he has never heard before. He hopes that he can see one at least on the way back.
He doesn't think that they're anywhere close to Nanda Parbat. Damian tries to stay close to his mother. He didn't know how long they will be walking but he suspects it will be a while.
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They come across a house that is not big by any means but it's not quite small either. It seems to be made out of wood, probably built with the same materials that are in this Forest. It looks quite old.
Mother knocks on the door. Damian doesn't know why he's surprised that she did that, it means there are people in the house if she's trying to be polite.
The person that opens the door seems to be a woman. She has long black hair that is pulled back into a braid. The woman seems to be wearing some sort of black and violet wrap dress. Damian can see chains wrapped around her waist as well as her neck.
 He believes they are some sort of fashion statement.
Mother and the woman just stare into each other's eyes for a moment before the woman turns to look at Damian. she looks him over then turns back to his mother and nods. 
the woman steps away from the door signaling for them to walk in. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Damian walks in he seems to notice how it's not the headquarters that he expected. It seems to be an actual home. There are photos up on the walls of a man, woman and child. there seems to be no pictures of the child younger than five in the entryway.  
The man in the photos has a darker complexion and seems to wear Egyptian style clothes in all of the photos. The woman that let them in seems to be the woman in the photos.
The younger child seems to catch his attention. She looks like a young girl. She seems to have dark brown hair and has the same green eyes as him, the ones he shares with mother.
Mother tells him to sit on the couch and wait for her there as she goes to talk to the woman in the kitchen. Mother does not tell him what they will be talking about. 
As he looks around the living room he notices more pictures than the ones that were in the entryway. The ones in the living room also have his mother.
His mother seems to be smiling. He hasn't seen his mother smile since he was five. As he gets older he notices that more and more.
His mother looks happy in the photos. 
She looks young as well.
There's a photo close to the window that has the child in his mother's arms. this seems to be the only photo of the child as a baby it would seem. 
The baby looks like the ones that he sees in the baby photos that mother used to show him. He knows she didn't mean for him to remember he was quite Young, sometimes he thinks the memories are a dream.
 Damian remembers how his mother used to always dismiss the nurses and just rock him back asleep when he had a nightmare.
Before he started training she used to kiss his forehead whenever he presented her with something; whether it was a small rock he decided was pretty or it was a new blade he had been gifted by a league member on her staff.
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As he hears movement coming towards the room he sits down on the couch. 
The person that walks in isn't his mother like he thought it was, Nor is it the woman that he saw at the door. He believes it's the young girl from the photos. 
She seems to be 12, maybe 13. He was correct when he thought earlier that she had mother's eyes. 
He hates the jealousy that he feels when he makes that thought. Mother always told him he looked like a father but mother the one who raised him it's logical to want to be closer to her. Even if it's just in looks.
The girl looks shocked.
He does not know if it's because there is someone in the living room or if it's himself that she is shocked by.
she seems to shake her head to snap out of it. 
He's never seen someone express so much emotion on their face. 
She walks up to him and says “hi”
Damien Hesitantly replies “hello”
Just after he replies, Mother walks into the room with the woman from the door.
 Mother is smiling. He hasn't seen mother smile in a long time. He thought the picture from earlier would be the only one he would see.
“Habibi, this is your sister Eleanor“
Damian had been making the connection since he walked in from the door but it's very different when it's set out loud.
He didn't expect his birthday present from mother to be a sibling.
840 notes · View notes
roronoaswifey · 9 months
Note
BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl
ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃����!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.
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needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.
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shapard · 4 months
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Feather of Fate🕊️
Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader
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Soulmate arc
A/n: A little bit late for Valentine, but here ya go! Idk when I'll continue this, but this has been stuck in my brain for a long time.
Goldwing
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Chapter 1 > Chapter 2
You’ve heard about the story tales from your Mother Sera. How Lucifer has fallen because of his bizarre dreams.  To give humans a free will, which cost chaos to the world. 
As a punishment he was forced out of heaven with his Love Lilith. Sera claims that she wanted you to be safe, so there is one top rule she set up: Don’t Question heaven. 
You keep on holding tight to this one rule, not like your sister Emily. She gets into a lot of trouble when you’re not watching, which gets you also in trouble. 
Big Sister, Big responsibility, that’s what your mother always says. 
Sitting on the couch looking down at the apple sign on your wrist. It was a small apple with a snake surrounding it. It’s a Soulmate mark.
Every Angel gets a soulmate, so they get the perfect heir, some angels describe It as a heart pull and ache. You don’t really enjoy that you’re forced to love someone. It’s somewhere unfair that humans can marry someone they choose to love and trust. Meanwhile when Angels reject their bond, it will kill the two Soulmates in a span of time. 
Even when they’re too long apart it will show in a disturbing way. Aggression, Not eating, no sleep, the list goes on and on.
Putting your sleeve above your mark, not wanting anyone to see it. You got once because of it in trouble. Not a pleasant memory that you want to re live.
It does remind people of Lucifer, but he got Lilith, his soulmate. So that possibility is shrunk to zero. Why else sacrifice living in heaven for a woman?
Today was the meeting with Charlie the daughter of Lucifer. She wanted to talk about a hotel named Hazbin Hotel. 
…Time Skip…
The court room was all a mess, chaos has broken out whispering and hushes echoed through the pearly white halls. 
Emma broke the Silence with her soft singing voice “But she was right, Sera. She Showed us the soul can Improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would.” You Interrupted Emily and for the first-time in your live, you disobeyed the one set rule. 
“Prove a person deserve a second chance, now we turn our Backs, no second glance?” Sera looked towards you slightly disappointed but also guilty. 
Then the bomb was thrown in the room, extermination. It left you speechless. Why hide something like this and say it was for protection? 
It all went down so quick and with one move you started to doubt everything in heaven. Sera was scared, scared shitless that she’d loose Emily and you, but mostly you. 
You started to Ignore her and rarely left your room. The betrayal was harsh for you. You trusted your mother dearly and now you find out that your mother kills souls because she feels threatened. Threatened because of Lucifers dreams she said was once foolish. 
You started to break rules after Rules, causing a havoc in heaven when you leaked the Information about an extermination in hell. And in less than a week you were in chains in the courtroom. 
“Do you have any Idea what damage you’ve done Y/n?” Sera’s voice echoed through those now soulless halls. The seats now all almost empty. “What damage I’ve done? You call me the Imposter, but have you ever thought what you’ve done? You lied to your people AND your Family Sera.” 
Ouch, you never called her Sera just Mom. “Just do it already, I’m tired of hanging in here and watching my failure of a mother trying to push this longer.” You spat on the cold floor. The coldness reminds you how the last few days felt in heaven. Cold and lonely. “As you wish, do it.” her voice cracked, it was barely audible, but you could hear it. 
You shut your eyes tight and with a swift Moment you felt how your wings were cut off, your scream filled these cool, lonely court room. Sera was already gone, not wanting to see how she failed in one of her children.
The rest of your wings were ripped out of your back, making gold blood squirting all over the white floor painting it in a unique color. And then you fell, too exhausted to let out a desperate call for the comfort of your own mother.  
She didn’t even stay. 
Tears pooled lightly out of your eye. Even though heaven didn’t feel like home anymore, you’ll still miss heaven. 
The wind gushed on your Injured back making it only hurt more than it already does, you fell so fast, this is something you never really experienced you never fell as an Angel. But you fell, you fell deep and Landed on the ground. 
It the worst you’ve felt in these last hundred years of living. The bone that was connecting your wings with your body broke more into splinters at the impact. It had dirt sticking on your bones making you hiss as you tried to stand up making them move slightly in the dust. No success. 
You tried a couple more times, but you feel your stamina running out fast, so you just gave up. You laid there for a couple of seconds before you eventually pass out. 
Lucifer sat in his magic room, where his magical creations came from. The only thing besides Charlie what kept him happy. He took final glances at his old façade. 
It’s time to move on and move into the Hazbin hotel, even though he hates that radio guy, he does everything for his little Charlie. He walked out of his mansion closing it with a key. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and was ready to go. 
Something crashed loud in front of him, swirling all the dirt into Lucifers face. He coughed and waved the dust away. “What the fuck?” He looked at the cause for this early tumult, only to see a very beautiful woman in front of him. It didn’t take him a while to see that she was pretty bad Injured. His eyes dropped at the golden blood. “Oh no.”
The figure tried to stand up but fall multiple times and passed out after a while. No, no, no, no. Turning her around to see the damage, and it is bad. 
Three main bones ripped and broken apart, making him note down that she wasn’t just any Angel, she is a seraph. “Let me help you.” He carried her body very carefully, so he couldn’t do more damage towards her back. Teleporting himself and his other stuff in the hotel apartment, he laid you on his bed with your belly pressed on the mattress. 
He started to heal your back slowly and washed off the dirt from your face and the injury. He knew he couldn’t fully heal her wings back. But she could survive this with his help. And in an odd reason he couldn’t let her die. Some kind of pull on his heart making him already slightly attach towards the sleeping beauty. 
And this routine was repeated every day and when he realized her back was fully healed, he turned her on her back again. Seeing her now in all her beauty. 
“How can someone be this pretty?” he moved a hair strand out of your face and held your cheek. Stroking it a couple of times, it is as if he’s hypnotized. 
Shaking his head, he let go of her very quickly, “Lucifer you can’t just touch someone, she doesn’t even know you nor who you are.” He bit his long-clawed hand, debating whether he should go or not. 
In the end he left the room with heavy displeasure. Somehow not being near you made him angry. You were hurt and needed every protection he could offer. 
His mind screamed at him to go back to you, but he didn’t. This feeling confused the king of hell but, His mind and body were almost like two separate people.
 He pulled up his sleeve looking down at the red apple mark with a golden blue snake on it, like his halo. It was his Soulmate mark, he loves or loved Lilith dearly, but she wasn’t his mate. 
They both thought it may didn’t showed because Lilith is after all a human. Even when he had a soulmate, after landing in hell, he knew he’d never see his soulmate ever. 
He pulled his white sleeve again over the mark, not wanting to think about the what ifs. Maybe helping his daughter would keep his mind from you. “Let’s help Charlie.” 
After a while Lucifer still caught himself worried about you. 
You were laying on his bed for weeks, he healed you every morning and every evening hoping that you’d finally wake up. 
The arch angel Lucifer, and now king of hell, was worried about a seraph, what sarcasm. 
Getting ready for bed, Lucifer started to dress himself in his night gown and went to the couch. Since you’re sleeping on his bed, Lucifer decided to sleep on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb your healing progress
Hugging yourself into this blanket was heaven, and the smell of sweet apple and an alluring scent of musk. You never want to leave this place, for the first time since months you felt in peace. 
Fluttering your eyes open, you stretched you arms and legs, but one thing was missing. Your wings. And then reality came crushing down on you. You fell, from heaven. Your mother let you fall down the drain. She lied and didn’t even try to explain it to you. 
It was hard to breath as if you’d re-live the horror of falling from heaven down to hell.
You shacked uncontrollable making you Fall out of the bed. Out of habit you tried to fly those few centimeters. 
With a shallow thumb you fell on the floor. 
You winced from the Impact, and you tried to push yourself up with the next high object with shivering hands. 
This was a different gravity situation. 
Without your wings you slumped forwards, nothing to weigh your back. 
You pushed yourself upwards with the help of the shelf above you. The shelf lets out a creak from your weight and you fall back down with the shelf. 
The whole content on the shelf fell and crashed into pieces and you fell right into them. 
The ceramic pieces digged into your freshly healed wounds, you know that when you move, you’ll re-open the back wound. 
Out of panic your body began to move on autopilot.
With low groans and muffled screams, you leaned on the bed, golden blood smearing around the broken shelf and the white mattress. 
You started to sob at the pain. 
It was dark and all you wanted was to bathe yourself in the scent of that blanket. 
You searched for it. 
In the darkness you couldn’t quite figure it out where the blanket was but after a while you found it.
Holding the piece of cloth on your nose just to smell the comforting scent. You yelped when the light flicker on. A figure standing in the light. The figure was about 5’10 tall. 
You hid behind the blanket not wanting to look at the sudden appearance at the front door. 
Lucifer shot up at the sound of breaking ceramic. His mind told him to run towards the sound that came out of your room making him high alert. 
An Intruder? 
But who’d dare to come into the king of hells chamber?
Then he remembered that you were in his room, and without second thought he rushed towards your bedroom turning on the lights.
“You’re awake!”
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diaryofanidiot · 11 months
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The Experiments
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Chapter list: Prologue, <1>, 2, 3, 4, 5
Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment
Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.
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Chapter One
"What the bloody fuck is this..." A gruff voice spoke. I slowly looked up with wide eyes and nearly shat myself at the sight.
A giant behemoth of a man in a skull mask stood still, his body language relaxed but on guard as he stared in my direction.
His boots clunked heavily on the floor as he approached me, his gun still held at the ready but not pointed in my direction. I couldn't see his face, but his frown was apparent in his voice.
"Mactavish, I've found something... or someone, rather." He said, tuning in on his radio. I never once took my eyes off of him, unsure of if he was even real or not. Perhaps I had already died and this was the grim reaper to take me away...
"I don't understand, L.T." A staticky voice came through his radio.
"A woman. In a cage."
"Last I checked this wasn't a sex dungeon." The voice on the radio had a Scottish accent, dripping with amusement.
"Not joking." The British skull faced man said gruffly. "Finish clearing out the building. Then get to the rendezvous. I'll meet you there."
"Copy."
As he finished giving his orders, he knelt down next to the cage. "Who are you?" He demanded.
I scrambled back in the cage until the bars pressed against my bare back. I tried to speak, but my voice only came out in cracks after long-term misuse.
"Ah. Gotcha." He seemed to understand, or maybe he simply thought I was a mute. I saw his eyes flicker up toward the label on the cage.
"Subject 237: "Banshee"." He read aloud. "Stay where you are. I'm opening this blasted thing." He warned. "Try anything and you're dead."
I nodded slowly, desperate to let him know that I understood English. My eyes never left him as he shot the lock on the cage, despite my flinching at the sound.
"Out you go." He demanded, his gun still at the ready. My knees protested in pain as I crawled toward the entrance of my cramped confinement. I had almost forgotten about the chain and collar around my neck.
I could see his eyes widen slightly as I crawled into whatever light the room had offered; they darted around my scarred naked form as he observed me.
"Fuck did they do to you..." He mumbled below his breath.
The chains length only went so far for me to get an inch of room past the cage door. He knelt down in front of me. My traumatized brain flashing danger signs with every movement.
"I won't hurt you." He said in a low tone, one hand coming up to reassure me. "Not unless you try to hurt me. Just need to take this off..."
His hand darted toward the chain around my neck, causing me to flinch at the rapid movement. I could hear him curse underneath his mask as he realized a key was needed.
"Wait. Here." He ordered, standing back to full height before he went to raid the dead corpses in search of the key. He found it on the assistant's body with impressive speed before walking back over and swiftly removing the steel collar that kept me in place.
I hissed in pain once more as the cold damp air hit the sores on my neck, my hand going up to rub them instinctively. His hand was on my wrist now, stopping me from rubbing.
"We should get a doctor on that. Or on you in general..." His gun was lowered now, seeing as I had made no room to attack him. "Do you have a name?"
Once his hand was off my wrist, I pointed a shakey finger toward the label on the cage. He shook his head at this. "No, that's what they called you. I mean a real name." He insisted.
I frowned and looked to the ground. I had one. Over the course of a year, somehow, it had fled my memory. Nobody called me it anymore anyway. I turned my gaze back toward him with an apologetic look.
He sighed. "No matter. It'll come back to you. Let's get you out of here."
He swiftly walked over toward the scientist and removed the lab coat from the corpse.
"Put this on." He demanded, handing it to me. I complied. The fabric swallowed my malnourished body as I looked down, as if just now realized how gaunt my once healthy body had become.
He seemed to be looking at me expectantly. My legs tried to hold me up, screaming in agony as I stood slowly with atrophied muscles. I stumbled, my knees slamming against the linoleum tile. I cringed in pain as they did.
"Fuck." I heard him say before I was lifted and thrown over his shoulder. "Let's get you out of here." I watched as he seemed to notice a file on the table... my file. He snatched it up quickly and stored it away before the same voice I had heard earlier came in on the radio.
"L.T., you copy?"
He spoke into his radio with a sense of urgency. "Aye."
"I'm at the Rendezvous point now. The building's cleared, so you should have a clear path as long as there's no stragglers."
"You have my appreciation." If it were possible to hear a smirk, you could swear he wore one under the mask.
"Get here safely, and you'll have mine, Sir."
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The radio went silent once more as I was carried out to the hall like a rag doll. Hell, I probably weighed less than one at this point. My eyes were wide as I saw all the death that littered the building.
Unable to push down the sick sense of satisfaction that came from seeing my tormentors dead on the ground, I managed the smallest hint of a smile. The first one I've worn in what seemed like forever.
The man on the radio was right. A path was completely cleared, seeing as my rescuer never once had to stop for any threats.
Until we exited the building, at least...
Gunshots were pouring out as my eyes adjusted to the rising sun, unaccustomed to the light. I felt my body thrown behind something as my rescuer took cover beside me, firing multiple shots.
Once my eyes adjusted, I blinked them open to see we were behind a set of barrels. I managed a small peak at our assailants before I was forced back behind the cover with an angry "stay."
I frowned as he continued making his shots before requesting backup. I guessed the soviets really didn't want him escaping this one with how many men were sent.
Opening my mouth to try to speak, my voice cracked and strained severely. "Ears..." I mustered. I saw his eyes flicker to me for half a second before refocusing on his targets.
"Ears." I tried again, miming for him to cover them.
"Noise reduction headphones, kid." He said gruffly. It was then I noticed that his ears were already covered.
I glanced back once more, placing a hand on his arm to prepare him slightly as I gathered all the strength I could.
I screamed. The supernatural-esque sound reached nearly two hundred decibles, equivalent to a large bomb. I heard glass shattering and the sounds of people crying out in pain. My throat was raw by the time I let my screaming fade to an end.
The enemy gunfire ceased, and even the man beside me looked temporally disoriented. He grunted as he got his bearings back and shot those writhing on the ground in pain. They weren't wearing ear protection, I noted, finally looking up from my spot behind the steel barrels. They must've been deployed in a hurry.
Once the waves of gunfire ceased, I heard a shuffling motion and a click beside me. My rescuers gun was now to my head.
I looked at him with wide, fearful eyes as he stared me down.
"What the fuck are you?" He demanded. I flinched, but the scream had left my throat too damaged to speak. I could only croak out a few sounds, none of them enough for form even a single word.
"Don't. Move." He demanded, pulling out the file he had snatched earlier from its space between his vest and his chest.
I watched him with unblinking eyes as he opened it. "Are you even human anymore?" He asked seemingly to himself as he scanned the front page of the file.
Something he read caught his eye before his gaze landed on my frightened expression once more. "Show me your teeth."
Hesitantly, I opened my mouth. The barrel of his gun moving to pull my lip back further. I could've sworn I stopped breathing as he revealed the pair of sharp fangs that had been surgically fastened to my canines. His eyes then lowered to my throat. Underneath the sores was a jagged surgical scar where they had altered my vocal chords.
I couldn't read his expression due to his mask, and his eyes said nothing.
"You scream like that again and I'll kill you." He stated matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to care that I just gave him a major advantage against his enemies. I watched him cancel the request for backup before I was thrown over his shoulder once more.
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The Rendezvous wasn't far; he experienced no more hiccups in getting me there. I blinked as I observed the abandoned factory, the floor creaking with each of his heavy steps.
I felt my weak body stumble as I was set down on the floor. I winced in pain before a new set of footsteps approached.
"Good to see ya, Sir." The voice that once cracked through radio waves was now just in front of me. I looked up to put a face to a voice. This man wasn't masked, I managed to get a good look at his face.
"Sergeant." The tense tone in my rescuer's voice was gone now as he greeted the other. I listened in as he updated his teammate on the situation.
"Experiments?" His Scottish accent was thick with confusion. His attention turned to me as he knelt down to my place on the ground. He seemed to be observing me, a slight crease between his eyebrows as he did.
Not a trace of fear entered his eyes even once as he looked at me. "Call me Soap, lass."
I blinked at his friendliness, a stark contrast to the other man's battle hardened tone.
"That over there, That's Ghost. He's the one who got you out of there." Soap's hand went to his hip as he unlatched something from his vest and held it out to me. "You'll probably be wanting this."
It took a minute for me to realize what was in his hands but once it clicked, I snatched the canteen quickly and fumbled it open. I heard him chuckle as I drank greedily, the room temperature water doing wonders for my dry throat.
"Slow your roll and don't drown yourself." He lightly lectured as I pulled away in a coughing fit once my greed bit me in the ass by sending water down the wrong pipe.
I watched him turn to Ghost, a quizzical look in his eyes. "She doesn't appear dangerous."
"Appearances can decieve." Was Ghost's response. "Show him your teeth."
I cringed at having to go through this again before I bared my fangs hesitantly. "She was heavily altered. I'm assuming they were creating human weapons."
"That all?" Soap scoffed, seemingly not intimidated. Ghost shook his head.
"They called her Banshee. Her vocal cords are altered as well. I watched her practically burst the eardrums of five enemy soldiers. Hell, nearly had my own eardrums bleeding."
Soap nodded and took the canteen back as I handed it to him. "She's so scrawny. How long have you been there?" He asked me.
Ghost placed a hand on his shoulder. "Her voice is fried. Gonna have to get back to the compound and have a more thorough look at her file. Where are the others?"
Soap stood to his full height. "Gaz and Price are clearing out another facility nearby. They should be here soon."
A new voice called out, turning the heads of all three of us.
"Soon? Try now."
The two strangers, we'll at least strangers to me, walked up. The older man looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite identify before speaking.
"Ghost.... fill us in."
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Typos? In my fanfic? Liar. (Pls point them out to me as we don't do roughdrafts in this household. We die like Roach here 🫡)
A/N: thank you all for the love this got from just the Prologue alone <3 sorry if anything feels off. I'm a secondhand fan and never touched the games lol.
Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes
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uyuuma · 3 months
Text
“ I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M FADED ”
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drunk!gojo x exgf!reader ღ MDNI.
❥ summary. you and your toxic ex, gojo, broke up months ago. yet you find his drunk ass outside your apartment door.
❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, toxic ex, manipulative gojo, dub con, dacryphilia, use of the name 'daddy', alcohol mentioned, tw: toxic relationship dynamic, etc.
❥ a/n. okok this one i thought of while i was bored at work, hope y'all enjoyyyy. i had to resubmit this post bc it got taken down bruh lets hope it doesnt happen again (title was inspired from the song 'spotlight' by lil peep; it is encouraged to listen while reading :3)
❥ wc. 3.2k
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Your life has been rather drama-free ever since you broke up with Satoru Gojo.
After the constant arguments and severe manipulation that he had put you through, you decided enough was enough and you told him to essentially fuck off.
But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't fully over him yet. In fact, life may have been drama-free but it became so boring after that. In some kind of fucked up way, you kind of missed the rollercoaster of emotions he put you through.
That's just how things are you guess, prioritizing your peace over that man was the healthier decision in the long run. You blocked his number and all of his social media as well as ghosting all of your mutuals, like Suguru and Shoko. It was a tough decision but you were tired of them asking about you and Satoru. He's done enough damage to your life already.
It's been radio silence since then, wonderful peace and quiet for two whole months. You found yourself taking up old hobbies again, exercising regularly, and even talking to other men. Life was right back on track and you were on your way to properly healing.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough because he still knew where you lived. You didn't really bank on the fact he would come banging on your door. You believed he would just move on, since he is Satoru Gojo after all. Any woman would be head over heels for the handsome man, even if he was toxic as fuck.
But no, god dammit it all, he is still stuck on you.
Loud banging could be heard on your apartment door. It scared the living daylights out of you when you shot up from beneath your covers. You thought that there was someone trying to break in or perhaps your building manager was trying to alert you to a fire. You immediately rolled out of bed and ran to the door.
That's when you heard that cursed voice.
"Open uppppp!" the voice slurred on the other side.
You groan an exasperated "Noooooo fuckkkk!" under your breath after realizing it's your ex.
"Baby please... I know you're in thereeee" He said in a joking manner.
You open the door a crack, not unhooking the chain lock. "Go away, I told you I never wanted to see you again." You said coldly. Your voice was also a tad raspy, as you had just woken up from a deep slumber.
"Baby don't be like that, let daddy in will you?" He purred through the crack of the door. You could tell he was under the influence of something and it caused you to roll your eyes.
"Fuck no, now leave before I call the cops." You threatened as you went to shut the door.
The door came to a halt with a loud 'THUD'. Satoru grabbed the chain lock with his fist and he held it open before you could shut it. You gasp and jolt back from the audacity that this guy had.
"No no no no no, you're not listening t'me. I wanna talk to you." He said as he tried to pull the chain off the door.
You knew he had the strength to do it too and you didn't feel like replacing it so you annoyedly invited him in.
"Christ, fine but only for a bit! Do you understand me?" You said sharply, unlocking the chain.
"Anything you want, mama." He said grinning, he swiped the door open wide to let his towering frame through the doorway.
You click your tongue in irritation as you quietly close the door behind him. "What do you want, Satoru? It is 3 in the fucking morning!" You whisper yelled.
"Shhhhshhhshh" He spat out at you, putting his long finger against your lips, hushing you. "I just missed you so much, hehe." He found it amusing you were getting angry and it only triggered you more.
"Don't touch me, you're not my boyfriend anymore." You said smacking his hand away from you.
"Says who?" He asks confusedly. He tilts his head to the side.
"Says me!" You said trying not to scream too loud and wake the neighbors.
"Pshhh nah ah!" He says as he smirks. "I say we just forgive each other and move on, huh?" He proposes the idea, with full confidence.
You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Each other? You prick, you're the one that manipulated me and used me! If anything you should be begging me for forgiveness! And you can start by leaving!" Your voice was starting to get louder, but you were beyond infuriated right now.
"What are y'talking about? Don't start with this crazy shit." He said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. He slouched a lot worse than usual, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweats. He was wearing that stupid compression shirt that would always make your head spin when you saw it.
He also reeked of alcohol. It was safe to say that the dude was drunk. It took a lot just to get him tipsy, so for him to be this drunk it must've meant he's been at it all night.
"Look baby, I just came from Sukuna's house party and it made me realized how much I missed youuu." he said, his eyes all glossy.
Oh? So, he decided to crawl back after drinking himself silly at some house party? This guy couldn't get anymore pathetic, you thought to yourself. "You stink of booze, get out of my apartment you bum." You said pointing out the door. "I don't need you ruining my life again."
"C'mon don't be like that princess, you know the only thing I'd ever ruin is your slutty little holes." He said, smirking. He grabbed your chin with his hand and brought you close to his face. You could smell the whiskey still hot on his breath.
You were so beyond done with this. "You're repulsive, do not talk about me like that." All of the emotions you had that you've suppressed came back and all at once. You could feel that all too familiar burning in your eyes and throat.
You went silent and smoothed over your hair with your hand, trying to soothe yourself. Do not let him make you cry again. You took a few deep breaths before continuing.
"Look I know you're fucked up, but you need to call an Uber and leave immediately." You said looking up into his eyes to show how serious you were being.
He just continued to give you this cocky smirk while tuning you out. He just won't fucking listen to you.
"Ok! Well here this shit is again! You never take me seriously! It's like I'm this big fucking joke to you!" You yelled out, letting your emotions start to swell inside your chest.
Tears began to spill from your eyes as months and months of frustrations started to unravel. You looked down and brought your sleeve to wipe your tears. "Well, I won't take it anymore! I-" Suddenly you found that your breath was suddenly snatched from your lungs, after looking back up at him.
Satoru was palming his hard-on while you were sobbing. He was getting off to your tears. The fucking bastard.
"Are you─!" You were cut off by Satoru's moans.
"Fuck, you are so sexy when you get all emotional like that. God, I just want to shut you up with my cock." He said eyes fixated on your face.
"You cannot be serious right now!" You've had enough of his shit, you shoved him, trying to get him out the door.
"Oooh playin' rough with me princess?" He doesn't budge from you trying to push him. "Aww, if only you weren't so weak." He says as he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it up. He yanks your hand above your head and watches you squirm.
He looks thoroughly amused and cracks a smile when you fight back.
"Aw I miss this, us arguing and fighting. It always gets my blood pumping." he said, shoving you to your knees.
You tried to fight where this was inevitably going to end up, but it was no use. Satoru was just too damn strong and too damn convincing.
He hisses as he frees his dick from his sweats. It bobs up and down from the sudden release. Your eyes follow it, mesmerized with how big it was. It's been a few months since you last saw it. You had so many conflicting thoughts racing through your head as you silently knelt on the floor below him.
"Suck." He commanded, holding his tip to your lips. His precum lubricated your soft lips, making you feel sticky already.
You shook your head and used your hands to push away from it using his thighs as leverage. You didn't want to give into him, not after everything.
"No fuck- c'mon baby just open wide." He cooed out to you. Even now he was deciding everything for you. He decided you were going to suck his dick and that's what you were going to do.
It was a struggle between you pushing away and him grabbing your hair and pushing your head down onto his cock. Between his groans in anticipation and your whines in protest, he became increasingly impatient.
"No no no, shhhshhh... that's a good girl." He hiccupped. Satoru successfully got your mouth to take his tip. He grunted and tilted his head back slightly, feeling you slowly but surely take his length.
"Oh fuck, I missed your mouth so much baby." He purred as he parted your hair out of your face.
You closed your eyes in defeat as tears began sliding down your cheeks. He held your head still with one hand gripping on your pony tail and pumped himself in and out of your mouth.
"Fuuuuck, no matter where I looked I couldn't find another girl who satisfied me like you do." He started to invade your throat with his length, making your esophagus become sore and your lungs burn from the lack of air.
You choked on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, as well as down his balls. Your fingernails dug deep into his thighs, trying to either push yourself off or for leverage. One of the two, you didn't know anymore. All you knew was that little warm sensation that built between your legs. Your body was betraying you, you were supposed to hate this man, to not let him abuse you anymore. But fuck, his cock hit all the right places in your tight throat. Your eyes begin to cross as you struggle to breathe.
"Shit, you swallow me so good. Mmm, tell me you want daddy to cum down your throat." He said fucking into your mouth, your lewd slurping sounds were very pleasing to his ears.
You let out a muffled moan in response, obviously you couldn't say anything but that was enough of an answer for him.
"Oh fuck, take my load." he ordered, his abs flexing as he came. He groaned as he painted your throat white with his seed. You could feel the hot, sticky fluid make its way down your throat as you swallowed it all.
More tears fell onto your cheeks. "Hate you, 'toru." you whined out, throat still raw from his dick forcing its way in.
Satoru gave you that cocky smile again and tapped his cock against your cheek as you pouted. "Still harddd." he sang. "Wanna be a doll f'me and get on all fours?" He said wiping the spit off your chin.
You were so disappointed in yourself. This man was forcing himself back into your life and all you could do was watch as it happened. You looked up at him and see that faded look in his eyes. They say that drunk words were sober thoughts, has he been wanting to do this for two months?
Despite everything, you did exactly as he said. You turned around and lowered yourself onto all fours. Truth is, your pussy was aching for him and it had been since you guys broke up. Those men couldn't satisfy you and neither could your dildo, at least not like how Satoru can. Perhaps this whole situation was inevitable.
You pull down your panties and shamefully spread your pussy out for him, showing how you were already wet and ready for him to stretch you out.
"Aww, baby you're already soaked. I haven't even touched you down there yet." He said kneeling down to take a closer look. He took his hand to grip your ass and moved his thumb to swipe a line against your cunt.
You shuddered from the satisfaction of finally being touched where you were aching. You could hear shuffling from behind you and felt a sudden wet, warmth swipe up and down on your clit.
You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth in response to Satoru suddenly eating you out. How polite of him to at least warm you up.
There was something so feral about the way he ate you out. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was sloppily sucking on your clit making your legs shake from the pleasure. He began humming and moaning as his tongue entered you, pumping in and out. His fingernails were digging into the fat of your ass as he spread your cheeks nice and wide for him.
Your arms wanted to give out from under you, but the bastard chose to fuck you on the cold hardwood flooring in the foyer. So you struggled to hold your head up, as if that would protect your dignity.
Satoru parted his mouth from your now slick folds, spit dripping all over your floors. "Mmm, baby I missed tasting you." He said, lust dripping from his voice almost as much as the saliva down his chin. He wiped the drool and slick from his mouth and gave your ass a swift 'SMACK'. You yelped out from the sudden sting.
"You ready baby? This is my favorite part." He cooed into your ear as he rutted his erection against your pussy.
"Yes 'Toru, fuck me please." You whined out. You were already gone, you just wanted the sweet release of the growing knot in your tummy. It was far too late to fight back at this point, all you could think about was him rearranging your guts.
He didn't need to hear any other words of confirmation as he aligned his throbbing cock with your dripping cunt. He pushed the tip in and let a shaky moan out along with a hiss.
"Fuck, always so tight." He groaned while thrusting just the tip in and out of your hole. His hands were still gripping your ass at this time, but he moved his left hand to grip onto your shoulder, lowering you onto his cock.
You let out such sweet moans and whimpers as he watched your pretty cunt swallow him up. He was mesmerized, trying not to cum at the very sight of it. He gave a drawn out sigh in relief from feeling your gummy walls clamp onto him.
He repositioned his large hands to have a strong grip on your waist as he started to thrust in and out of you. It was a slow rhythm at first, nice and sensual like he was trying to massage your insides.
It drove you insane, feeling him drag in and out. He had your back arched, so you folded your arms and laid on them. You scraped the floors with your nails as you felt him start to smack his hips against your ass.
"Mmm... fuck Satoru..." you mewled out, shoulder blades pushing together as your back curved in.
"M'gonna ruin your little pussy." He said making his thrusts rougher. "Gonna punish you for leaving me." He grunted out through clenched teeth. He let out a breathy moan as he leaned over you, slamming his hips flush against your ass.
You let out a sharp squeal as he jackhammered your cervix at this new angle. This squeal pleased him so much that he chuckled and said, "Keep making those cute little sounds."
He caged you beneath him by putting all of his weight on his left arm, holding his hand steadily on the floor by your head. He took his right arm and roughly took your arms from beneath your head. He pinned them both behind your back as he relentlessly pounded into you. This way he could have complete control over your body.
Your face was now met with the cold floor. Your cheek was squished and your mouth agape, drooling from the mind-melting ecstasy. You were starting to see stars, eyes not being able to focus on a single thing. Not that you could see through your tears anyways. You felt your climax approaching rapidly, pussy clenching him uncontrollably.
He started to curse under his breath as his thrusts became more shaky and messy from the pressure. You could tell he was nearing his orgasm too.
"Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." He said, his words coming out super slurred. You couldn't see his expression but you could tell from his voice that he was not only drunk but also pussy-drunk.
Your hands clenched from behind your back and your whole body seized up as you reached your limit. "F-fuck m'gonna cum daddy!" You screeched out, forgetting it was four in the morning. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped. Your whole body spasmed as you felt that sweet release you had been craving for months.
"Oh shit baby-" He cut himself off as he bit down on his lip. He hunched his entire body over you and his hands flew to grip onto your hips. "M'gonna fucking fill you so deep" He whimpered as he slammed your ass tightly against his pelvis. You could feel him twitch against you as that familiar warmth invades your pussy.
His curses are much louder this time around, slurring out profanities as thick ropes of cum coat your walls.
You gave one last whine before completely collapsing under him. "Satoru..." you said softly, very much out of breath.
He was silent for a second, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, leaking hole. He took his thumb and plugged your cunt so that his precious fluids stayed inside.
You squeaked from the feeling and laid on the floor in defeat. Your whole body was spent and you felt as if you could pass out on the floor.
He stood up and lifted his sweats back up. "C'mon princess lets go back to bed." He said kneeling back down to pick you up.
"I hate you, Satoru." You said meekly. You meant it, yet you didn't at the same time.
"Love you too baby." He said picking you up, bridal style.
He carried you to your bed, slipping under the covers with you. He spooned you and rested his face in the crook of your neck.
His scent was intoxicating, cologne mixed with musk and alcohol. Fuck, you really did miss him after all.
Whatever, you'll deal with kicking him out in the morning. Or not. You weren't sure anymore as you drifted back to sleep.
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blackbleedingrose · 4 months
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part One
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Lucifer x daughter! reader x Lilith
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Warnings: Forced child abandonment
Notes: This is my first Hazbin mini fic. This will be a mini series, so there will be a part two but it may take a little while as I tend to get busy with work and school - so please, bare with me.
Words: 880
"No! No! Please!"
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It's no surprise Lucifer and Lilith fooled around a bit during their days in the Garden of Eden.
What was surprising was the moment Lilith discovered she was pregnant.
Despite the shock and slight fear of being new parents, Lucifer and Lilith were overjoyed at the news.
When they found out the baby was going to be a girl, the two cried in pure happiness.
Lucifer became adamant, and a little overbearing, about doing everything for Lilith not wanting her to overwork herself or the baby. This did annoy Lilith (being the independent woman she was), but she knew he just wanted to make sure she and the baby were safe.
When Lilith went into labor, Lucifer went into full panic mode (imagine that one scene from The Office)
Lucifer: *freaking out* "OMG! IT'S HAPPENING! DON'T PANIC, HONEY!
Lilith: *calmly packing the hospital bags*
Lucifer may have passed out during the delivery when his curiosity got the best of him and decided to see what was going on down there (I imagine seraphim's or angels born in Heaven aren't born the natural way and instead created through magic).
Lucifer woke up from the sounds of crying and when he came to he saw a tiny body being carried by one of the nurses.
After rejoining Lilith's side (and making sure she was okay while profusely apologizing for passing out) they waited for the nurses to clean up the baby.
The moment the two saw one of the nurses bring over a pink bundle, their hearts filled with unbridled love and joy.
She was so small and had tuffs of blonde hair. She had Lucifer's red cheek circle's and Lilith's eyes.
Lucifer's eyes welled up with tears as he lovingly gazed down at the tiny person in his lover's arms. "She's perfect, Lily".
Lilith agreed with happy tears as she laid a gentle kiss on their daughter's head.
The two named her (Y/N) - (Y/N) Morningstar.
(Y/N) was a lively baby who adopted her father's bubbly and curious personality, as well as his love for ducks.
Her first toy was a duck plushie Lucifer had made himself.
However, despite having everything they could want in the Garden, Heaven, and now their new baby - they wanted something more.
They wanted to share free will with humanity in hopes that Heaven would finally see Lucifer's ideas and change their suffocating rules so (Y/N) could live in a world that wouldn't stifle any of her future dreams.
This lead them to tempt Eve with the apple, causing the unfortunate chain of events that lead to Lucifer and Lilith's trial.
The two were found guilty of bringing evil into humanity and as punishment they would be sent down into Hell.
However, before they sent the family into eternal damnation Heaven decided (Y/N) was innocent as she was only a baby who knew not what her parents had done.
Being a child of a seraphim and one of humanities first human's, they saw potential in her for Heaven's future - so they decided (Y/N) would stay in Heaven while Lucifer and Lilith would go down to Hell.
"Take the child," Sera ordered one of the court angels. "No! No! Please!" Lucifer and Lilith begged with tears falling down their faces as they held (Y/N) closer to them. The court angels forced the wailing (Y/N) out of her crying parents arms.
That was the last time Lucifer and Lilith saw their daugther before being banished to Hell for all eternity.
To keep (Y/N) from discovering her true lineage, Heaven decided that Lucifer's twin brother, Michael, would claim to be her father and raise her as a role model seraphim - one that follows Heaven's rules.
As (Y/N) grew up it became increasingly obvious how much she took after her parents. She had Lucifer's curious and cheerful nature, and Lilith's eyes, long blonde hair, and grace - both her parents beauty present in her features. The perfect combination of the two.
She especially adopted Lucifer's six large wings, only they had a pink under surface and gold tips.
To bypass any questions of her mother, Michael told her that he had created her from stardust with both his and Lilith's likeness - only using Lilith as a reference for a female.
Michael made sure her curious nature didn't go as far as Lucifer's, keeping her busy with her education and where he can keep an eye on her.
To keep her in check he told her about Lucifer and Lilith, but that they were her uncle and aunt who had lost their way and fallen from grace.
When she entered into adulthood, Heaven decided it was time for her to bear more serious responsibilities.
That's how (Y/N) Morningstar Demiurgos became one of Heaven's trial record keepers/recorders (she sometimes sits in trials and writes what's being said for the records).
It was mainly because Michael wanted to her to have a busy office job and away from exploring and getting too curious (he hoped being in trials would satisfy her curiosity, but made sure to keep her from asking too many questions).
And for awhile everything was perfect and in Heaven's favor. . .
. . .Until a certain Princess of Hell came to Heaven with a dream.
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peachesofteal · 4 months
Text
Dad!John Price/female reader This has been living in my head
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“Beautiful out, isn’t it?” 
The old woman on the docks hitches her shoulder bag higher, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance. John hums an agreement, low pitch slow to rise from his chest. It’s not a dismissal, but not conversation. Non-committal. About as much as you’ll get from him, on a day like today. 
He keeps his focus on the expanse of the bay. A metamorphic magma layered coastal cradle holding entire populations of people, and animals, those that live on land… and at sea. 
He’s waiting for a fleck of dust on the horizon, a small speck that will slowly turn into ferry, one that carries some passengers, a few packages, bundles of mail by the heap. It is beautiful today; he doesn’t disagree. But it’s not because of the weather.  It’s because the ferry is carrying more than just a few passengers home. It’s carrying his worst nightmare. The final nail in a coffin. His own personal hell.
And… 
His brightest light. His favorite part of everyday. His everything. The reason his heart still beats.
Both on the same boat. 
The sun shines through the tips of the trees, bright on his face, casting an amber yellow glow over the harbor, and he basks in it, even with the brittle cold. 
The warmth of the light is foreign this time year, a time year when creeks all run underneath a quickly thickening layer of ice, morning frost lingers beneath cloud cover, and bears sleep.  
The town will be full of life today. The bar at the top of the hill, the only one in town, will be burning the midnight oil, everyone appearing at some point throughout the night, eager to have one last rousing round with neighbors and friends before the true cold of winter sets in. 
Of course, they don’t hate the cold. They wouldn’t live here if they did. 
Life is different in the winter. Year round. Life here revolves more around the weather and the seasons than anywhere else he’s ever been, or lived, and everything from the kelp to the whales, the deer and sea lions, the people, and the wolves, depend on the promise of perpetual change. 
The tide washes through little pebbles of ancient volcanic rock like a lullaby, one so familiar he swears he can hear it when he’s working, when he’s worlds away in his mind. It’s peaceful, full of memories, nostalgia beating in his blood for something long gone, long past. 
His heart aches, for a moment. Long enough that his brow furrows, and his hands find his pocket, anxiously feeling for the chain. 
The ferry shatters his memories, blaring across the beach, and the old woman gives him a smile. 
“Early today.” This time, John does respond. 
“Good.” 
“You must be John.” She offers her hand, face half hidden beneath a large hood and knit muff, black pants and coat nearly matching his. 
He hesitates, fingers flexing, and she doesn’t miss a beat, moving on to step around him, speaking briefly to the ferry captain, an old grizzled man who stared at John the entire trip, blatant curiosity wrinkling his frown lines. 
The wind cuts through his jacket, snaking beneath his layers, forcing his muscles tense. 
Bloody freezing. He's been cold, plenty, but this bitterness has bite.
She squints and jerks her head towards the end of the dock, sunlight glittering in her eyes. They’re beautiful, a rich shade of coffee and hazel, golden spotted and drusy, a cluster of crystals inside dark pupils. They’re a color he could drown in. The kind of eyes he could see in his dreams for the rest of his life.
The kind of eyes capable of disarming him, before he's even drawn a weapon.
“C’mon. Truck’s got heat.” 
“Mari says you’ve never been a Ranger before.” She tries to make casual conversation with him, patting the steering wheel as the truck sputters to life. Gears grind, they churn, and she smiles, glancing at the road before putting it in gear. It’s old, rusted in a quaint way, the kind that makes him think of old industrial parks and aging tanks, a rugged red chipped away above the passenger wheel well, rubbed raw by salt air. 
“I have… relative experience.” He’s careful with his words, hesitant about over divulging, and she shrugs. 
“With people? Or wildlife?” He points his face out the window. With people, sure. With bears and wolves and whatever else lurks in these woods, less so. 
The truck climbs a windy road, pushing up above the cove, narrow pitted pavement flanked by forest so black he can hardly see a meter inside the tree line. The shadow that lingers inside the tree line is primordial, alive, and he blinks when he thinks he sees something moving, deep in the dark. Douglas fir, silver fir, white pine flash by, occasional road signs with pictures of animals and speed limits dotting the way. “Logging is big industry out here. Forestry feeds a lot of families in this area, but it can be a point of contention.” She motions past him to another cove, one tucked just around the bend from where the ferry came in, its surface covered in shaved logs, all nearly uniform in size, floating together in rows upon rows, waiting for their next voyage. 
“That what you do? Er… logging?” Her hands are rough, skin cracked, nails trimmed short, and the coat is utility. Built for labor. For weather. It’s a natural conclusion. 
“No. I run the nature center in the late spring and summer. No tourism in fall or winter though, so I find other things to do. Work for the park. Tag trees. Winter trail maintenance. Wildlife management.” The truck rattles into a left turn, and she waves at someone in an oncoming car. “Guess I kinda work for you now.” Her chuckle is light, sweet, and his cheeks feel warm. “What brought you all the way up here?” 
Bloody hell. 
“Needed a change of pace.” 
“Long way to come for a change.” She muses, and he agrees. It is very, very far. Three planes, two ferries, this truck. Hours of travel, temperature dropping in ten degree increments every time he stepped outside. He doesn’t know how to answer that, how to tell her, what he’s doing here, how to say he had to leave things behind. 
The island changes, geology shifting, granite turning to mud and grass, darkness fading as the truck putters into its final descent.
He instinctively taps the tags in his pocket, a nervous tic that’s develops over the last few months since he took them off for the last time and clears his throat. 
“Yes. It is.” 
The ferry sidles up the wooden dock, rocking in the waves, captain giving the small, older woman next to him a friendly wave. At his side, a woman stands, straight backed and proud, eyes sharp against the setting sun. 
Is that…
You catch his gaze, glancing at the Ranger badge on his coat, and then nodding, hand lifting in acknowledgement. 
His breath freezes in his chest. You’re stunning. Beautiful, like the land, like the strait, and for a second, he forgets himself. 
Igneous rock hardens in his stomach, in his heart.
He's lost at sea. Lost in the swell. An eddy line of devastation sweeps him out, past the lighthouse on the rocks, past the pod of resident orcas, past the point of no return.
He's drowning.
Only to be brought back by one of his favorite sounds in the entire world. 
“Dad!”
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wooataes · 6 months
Text
a wilted rose - ljh
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pairing: mafia boss!lee jihoon x fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, hurt and comfort, mentions of violence and guns, injuries, bruises, crying, swearing, implied murder, slight fluff, jihoon being protective (yes, that’s a warning)
summary: an unfortunate encounter has jihoon realize his true feelings for his wife.
a/n: toyed around with the idea of mafia!boss jihoon and this is what popped out 🙊 happy new year, friends!
- tae 💜🌸✨
Masterlist
Part Two? | Ask to be added to my taglist
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Lee Jihoon’s family is known as one of the most feared Mafia families in South Korea, his great grandparents having made a reputation for themselves that has been held up for generations.
Jihoon was born an only child and singular heir to the Lee fortune and the Lee legacy; having known from a young age that he would eventually end up being the leader of the Lee clan. He knew the family business was dangerous, and since being taught the ropes at 13, he knew that his relationships could be used against him from rival clans. This reason alone caused him to be cautious and callous with who he associated with. He only has two important people he would consider his friends.
His closest friend, Kwon Soonyoung also doubles as his right hand man. Both men grew up together due to Soonyoung’s father being close with Jihoon’s. Their frequent meetings caused the young men to be around eachother for long bouts of time, eventually being homeschooled together while their father’s talked business. For Jihoon, Soonyoung is the one and only person he could trust on this earth- time and time again, he has always proved his unchallenged loyalty to Jihoon and his father’s family. If Jihoon was irrational and unfiltered, Soonyoung was his voice of reason and his level-headed decision maker. To him, it was a match made in heaven.
The second person he considered his friend, or used to, was you. You came into both Jihoon and Soonyoung’s life at 8 years old, your family having been hired by Master Lee to work as live-in staff in their mansion. You were the only other child Jihoon and Soonyoung’s age, and despite Master Lee’s cold heart, he grew to treat you like his daughter and let Jihoon frequently spend his younger years playing with his two closest friends when they weren’t being homeschooled together until he was of age to get into the family business.
12 months ago, when Jihoon had just turned 25, Master Lee announced his soon to be retirement to his son. The only condition for Jihoon to step up to be head of the family business was simple but to Jihoon, was absolutely atrocious.
“I don’t understand why you think me marrying would be advantageous to the family, father.” He hisses, adjusting his chain around his neck, glaring at the stupid red rose, the Lee family staple, perfectly pinned to his lapel.
“It is not to a random woman, Jihoon.” Master Lee frowned.
“That makes it worse!” He barked, leaning his head back in frustration.
“Jihoon. You have to know that no one can be trusted in this business. I am not allowing you to marry outside of who we trust. They can slither their way into your heart and when you are at your most vulnerable, they take everything out from under you. If the enemy knows you’re committed to someone already, it keeps them from hurting us from the inside.”
“Yeah, it also makes Y/N the number one target to the enemy and they will try and swipe her away from under our noses!” He’s yelling now.
He would never admit it to anyone, but he cares too much for you. You’re too good to be associated with the dastardly business that is associated with being in the mafia; you’re a good hearted person who happily serves the Lee family alongside your just as good parents. You’re the one good thing that Jihoon has left, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t protect you.
“It’s not like you’re going to be parading her out for missions and stake outs.” Master Lee frowns. “She is only for the parties. So others know that you’re a committed man that will not waver. I guarantee you she will be protected. She will be treated like a queen in here, and she won’t ever have to see the dark side of the business. Son, I promise you.”
For 12 months, Jihoon, in the public eye was the perfect model husband with you. He stayed by your side faithfully at galas and parties, parading you around with a look of what was perceived as adoration by others. Behind closed doors however, Jihoon treated you like a ghost. Long gone was your once closest friend who you stayed up late with to binge watch stupid movies, playing video games and pranks on Soonyoung. The only thing that remained was a quiet man that only greeted you for one meal a day, to his insistence for the sake of ‘normalcy.’ In your opinion, it felt anything but. Your attempts at conversion were shut down with one worded answers or sometimes none at all, and over time, you grew to enjoy your meal with your husband in silence before going about your day around the Lee mansion alone.
Jihoon thought his father’s plan was working. For 12 months, his wife was safe and protected and never got caught up with any of the mafia business. He was in alliance with most rival clans and worked out plans and deals to work for the foreseeable future.
Sadly for Jihoon, Master Lee was full of shit.
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Jihoon is frantic. The staff had alerted him while out for a meeting with an ally clan that you had been injured. They were intentionally vague with details, knowing their boss would fly off the handle at the extent to what your injuries were.
“She’s at home.” Jihoon hears Soonyoung’s voice over the phone.
“What the fuck happened, Soonyoung.” He is sure he is making his driver break at least 10 different road laws right now to get back to the mansion. He makes a mental note to contact the local police and send some generous gift baskets.
“The guards don’t know. I’m trying to get it out of them, but no luck yet.”
“She shouldn’t have been out unsupervised.” Jihoon winces, rubbing at his temples. “Tell them if they don’t give you an honest answer by the time I’m back, I will have their tongues.”
“Just go to her right now, Hoon-ah.”
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Marching into the living room, Jihoon makes his presence known by the heavy thuds of his boots on the tiled floor. His eyes scan the room until they finally land on you, his childhood friend and arranged wife, sitting anxiously on the couch. He feels his eye twitch at the sight of no guards in sight, you having been left alone since you have returned.
You lift your head up shakily, your eyes widening at the sight of your husband. His long hair, usually sported in a bun atop his head is now strewn about and falling out of the elastic holding it together, suit jacket scrunched and twisted, red rose nowhere to be found. You’re astonished, having grown so used to seeing your husband with his perfect red rose on his lapel at all times. What you didn’t know that after having found out about your capture, he thrown it to the ground in frustration of his worst fears coming true.
“Jihoon?” You blink nervously.
This is the first time you’ve seen him properly (minus your daily lunches) for maybe a month. He stares intently across the room at you, scanning your body. You’re cradling your left wrist in your hand, a bruise in the perfect shape of a hand print forming around your wrist. His eyes lift to your face, his blood boiling at the sight of a small cut across your cheek, your right eye swelling up and starting to turn purple.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “I know I shouldn’t have-“
You flinch at the sight of Jihoon striding forward, only to pause when he walks straight past you and into the kitchen, causing your shoulders to deflate. You were stupid to think your best friend had come back for only a moment. You sink sadly into the couch, curling up slowly.
Your head stays facing down at the floor as you run your fingertip over the hand print on your wrist, wincing and hissing as you press a little too hard. You sigh after a moment, moving to stand up before you pause at the sight of Jihoon’s expensive dress shoes directly in front of you.
You look up nervously at him as he reaches out, delicately taking your wrist, face neutral as he runs his fingers gently over the bruise just like you had done, eyebrows furrowing. You shiver slightly, this being the first physical contact you have felt from your husband in months. Next, he reaches forward and tucks a stray hair behind your cheek before examining the darkening bruise over your eye. At this, you see his eyes darken, heaving a heavy sigh through his nose.
“Who the fuck did this to you.” His voice is soft as he eyes you.
“I-I…”
“I need to know who did this.” He pleads.
“It was Hwang.” You whimper.
His jaw clenches. Hwang has sworn vengeance against the Lee family ever since Master Lee cut ties and alliances with the Hwang’s over his unethical practices. In Hwang’s words, he wanted to poison the perfect garden of roses that Master Lee built.
“H-he said it was a warning..” you can’t look Jihoon in the face. “T-to keep your wife on a leash or else something could happen. Jihoon, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have gone out, I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.” You’re crying softly now, wincing at the pain that your swelling is causing.
You tense up as you feel something cool delicately rest on your cheek, opening your eyes to see your husband holding an ice pack gently to your face. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he moves you so you’re sitting down on the couch once more.
“You stay here until Soonyoung gets back to look after you, okay?” He instructs you as you just stare at him, bewildered. “Do you hear me, Y/N?” You nod your head slowly as you cradle the ice pack to your cheek. “Good.”
You watch Jihoon turn around and march back towards the front door of the mansion, pointing to Mr Kim, one of the guards who has been in Jihoon’s family for years. “Make sure no one comes inside this mansion except for me and Soonyoung. You guard her with your life until he gets here.” The man nods his head sternly as he moves to stand in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.
“J-Jihoon? Where are you going?” You ask nervously as your husband adjusts the gun holster around his waist, his voice cold and deadly, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I’m going to kill the fucker who thought he could touch my wife and get away with it.”
And with that, the door slams behind him, leaving you alone with Mr Kim eyeing the door sternly.
You stay anxiously in the living room for what feels like an eternity, waiting to hear anything from Jihoon or his guards. You jolt at the sound of the door after only 15 minutes of sitting in silence, breathing a sigh of relief as you see Soonyoung rush inside and run straight towards you.
“Soon…” you whimper as he meets you halfway, immediately pulling you close and hugging you to his chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He breathes out, shaky. “The one fucking day I had to go run some errands…”
You hate the fact that Hwang probably waited for Soonyoung to be away from you to strike.
“Soon, it’s fine…” you whisper, wincing as he pulls away to look down at your face, closely examining your swelling eye.
“It’s not fine, look at you!”
“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” You whisper, and he just sighs with frustration, leading you to the couch and sitting you up against the cushions, laying a fluffy blanket over you.
“You’re going to sit here and we are going to watch some tv until Jihoon-ah gets back, okay?” He settles down beside you.
“Soonyoung, you can go have a shower or eat or something...” Your voice is low as he scrolls through random movies to play on Netflix.
“Nope.” He made a promise to stay with you until Jihoon gets back, and he will stay true to his word. Eating and washing up can wait.
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“Y/N-ah.” Soonyoung glances at his phone after a few hours. The ice pack against your cheek is now lukewarm, your legs having shaken non-stop since you’d been forced to sit down.
“Hm..” you hum in response.
“Jihoon-ah will be home in 5 minutes. He asked for me to give you both some privacy and take care of some clean-up. Will you be okay with Mr Kim watching you?”
“Okay.” You respond nervously, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Soonyoung gently touches your good cheek with his finger.
“I’ll be in the other room making calls if you get scared between now and then. Okay?”
“Thank you, Soonie.” You whisper, looking up at him with a grateful smile.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles back before turning around and walking down the hall, leaving you alone once more as the panic begins to rise in your body.
You’re lucky you don’t have to wait long, as true to Soonyoung’s word, Jihoon steps inside his mansion and into the living room not even 5 minutes later, heaving a sigh. When you spot him, you rush quickly to him, immediately noticing the blood on his shirt and causing you to panic even more.
“Oh god.. you’re bleeding, what have I done? Your father will have me for this.” You quickly try to wipe the blood off his shirt (which you’re relieved to realize isn’t his). Jihoon surprises you both as he reaches forward to take your injured wrist again, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms tight around your waist.
He pulls your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing you to him as his chin rests on top of your head, grip tight on your shirt. You’re shaking before you just melt into his embrace, holding onto his jacket tight as he hums.
“Are you okay.” When you just nod, he pulls back to look into your face. “I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Please… just humor me.”
“Yeah, I’m okay, Hoonie.” You breathe out with wide eyes.
Why does he look so scared?
He sighs with finality before he pulls you back to him, hugging you tight for the first time since he was forced to hold you at your wedding over 12 months ago.
“We will need more security.” He mumbles to you as he holds you tight. “Guards at every post. When we go out, when you’re out in the garden, everywhere. It’s clear they know your schedule so we need to throw them off your scent.” He is talking a mile a minute as he keeps you close to his chest, afraid you’d slip away. “As a precaution, I will have guards sweep the house for any bugs they could have planted. Tonight, we will sleep in the safe house. Is that okay with you, Y/N?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You whisper, your face buried in his shirt. You don’t want to leave his side as much as he doesn’t too - this being the most affection you’ve gotten from someone in 12 months.
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“Fuck.” Jihoon didn’t account for the fact his safe house only had one king size bed. “You can take the bed, okay… I can take the couch.”
“Don’t be silly.” You hum, already dragging him to the bed. “We’re both adults here. I think we can handle sharing a bed. We used to in school, right Hoonie?”
“I mean yeah, but we weren’t married then.”
“We’re only married on paper. Why are you being so iffy?” You laugh, wincing as your smile hurts your bruising cheek. Without thinking, he reaches out to cup your face worriedly, examining the bruise before rushing out to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small ice pack to press to your cheek.
“I’d feel more comfortable if you were close, Hoon. Please.” You ask quieter now as he rocks awkwardly on his heels.
“Only until you’re asleep.” He bargains, and you nod quickly.
“Deal.”
After an awkward intermission of you both getting ready to share the bed for the first time since your wedding, you’re finally drifting off, curled up beside your husband as he sits up against the bed head, stiff as a board in sweatpants and a large jumper. Jihoon lays on top of the blankets so he can make an easy get away when you fall into a deep sleep.
He’s about to up and leave as your breathing evens out, thinking you’re asleep when he feels you shift. You scoot closer, hand finding his as your head nestles comfortably against his shoulder. You visibly relax at his warmth, your shaky hands slowing to a stop as you essentially glue yourself to his side. He tenses up, looking down at you with wide eyes as you finally fall asleep. He frowns deeply at the sight of your bruise showing before aggressively sighing to himself and wrapping his free arm around you to hold you against his chest. He is unable to resist your cuteness. That, and he wants to protect you, of course.
Jihoon refuses to sleep a wink in case someone tries to break in, but after hour four of him stroking your arm delicately with his cheek resting on top of your forehead, he feels himself drifting off.
When he wakes up, he sees you’re still cuddled up to him, but almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Soonyoung standing at the foot of the bed with a knowing smirk on his face.
“It took you long enough to treat your wife like she is your wife.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hisses out as quietly as possible to not wake you, his cheeks bright red. “If she wakes up, I’ll have your head.”
“I’m sure you will.” He winks.
“Kwon Soonyoung I swear to god if my wife wasn’t sleeping against me right now, you’d be six feet under.”
“Mhm~” he sing songs, stepping out the bedroom door.
“If you tell anyone, you’re dead.”
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ljh taglist
@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi@lavayeon @seventeenthingsblr @zaggprincess2 @markleehee @kwanniesboo @beardedartgamingbakery @iarayara
permanent taglist
@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @rinalouu @flwerrchild @apobangpowrld @ldysmfrst @adeptiixiao @lisaaaaamanobannn @jovialpartyneckoaf @sarahisupset
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snowsinterlude · 6 months
Text
doll parts.
(coriolanus snow x bella baxter!reader)
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summary: having been brought back to live recently, you seemed to have lost your memories and still had a lot to re-learn. with that being said, you were personally intrigued by whatever 'fucking' is. luckily, coriolanus knew exactly how to teach you.
based on this ask.
c.w: horror (based in frankenstein and poor things), smut, coriolanus snow, nymphomaniac behavior (on the part of reader), spitting, p in v, porn with plot, rough sex, slapping (m. recieving), overstimulation, angry sex, squirting, edging, creampie, unproctected sex, innocent reader, naïve behavior, dumbification. casca highbottom is mentioned but he's not the main focus, 'virginity' loss, there's gonna be a lot of 'of course's" here
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with the shocks of the electricity running through your new brain, you had opened your eyes to the sight of casca highbottom, a scientist who wanted to prove the point that he could bring people back to life.
of course, playing god wasn't exactly allowed, but what does corruption doesn't do?
with a white curly lock in your lustrous hair being something new to your forgotten appearance, you stared at the man in front of you, whom claimed to be your father. and of course he wasn't. he wanted to prove a point; this point being that he could create the perfect woman and shape her into the submissive obedient element you were supposed to become.
you didn't like that idea, and on the first minute he looked somewhere other than you when he brought you to see the outside world, you ran away, wanting to learn whatever you had to learn without the chains that casca highbottom had you in.
it didn't took long for you to come across coriolanus snow, a renowed academy student who was always against highbottom's experiments in dead people and animals. and he was so gentle to you, probably because of your doe heterochromatic eyes (another result of highbottom's tests on your previously dead body), or probably because of your innocent smile and the way your experience with the dead of living beings was killing mosquitoes and butterflies, saying that "there is no meaning for me to let this thing live if it annoys me."
of course, he took that out of your head with the argument that "then, if i, someday end up annoying you, would you kill me?" and you seemed to thought for a long while (that was his concern and the moment he gulped down), shaking your head, but saying "if you gave me anything other than kisses and books and shelter, i would." and he laughed at the way you said that, your eyes almost jumping out of your skull, always so sickeningly wide. you were so naïve, he truly wanted to open your kull, unspool your brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down whatever it was that passed through your head.
he would never do it, though. not when you looked so pretty when swallowing his spit on that same night, licking your lips after a kiss.
then, in the day before, sitting on the couch on his studies, you looked at the page of the book you were leavmfing through, you saw an image of a woman and a man's silhouette. taking advantage of the few things highbottom teached you, you read outloud:
"mis...sio...neh...ry" of course, you still had a lot of difficulty reading, but nothing that could cause harm, coriolanus still tried his best to teach you how to read. he was always so... kind. you wanted to eat him up. but pretty things sometimes are accessories that can't go into your stomach, and that's what coriolanus told you when you tried eating a ladybug, claiming she was too cute for you not to eat it. "coryo,"
"yes, doll?" he asked, reading the papers he had on his hands.
"what is missionary sex?" that caught him off guard.
so now, after explaining how it worked and why it existed, the platinum blonde man finished by saying it could bring pleasure to your body, but it was mainly used for reproduction purposes.
you didn't really care about that last part, the second you heard him talking about 'pleasure', you immediatly got up, almost abruptly walking to him, your bare feet stepping on whatever it had on the ground, the skirt of your dress, that he got used to seeing you without, the shows you were supposed to wear to an early party that you never put on, his jacket, some papers, and finally, you were in front of him.
"i wanna do it," you voiced, taking the papers out of his hand "i wanna do it with you." and "i wanna have missionary with you." you said, eyes wide open to stare at him, you almost never blinkedat all.
"it's sex, doll. missionary is just a position." he said, laughing. though the thought of you riding him made his dick throb.
"position?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "then there's more?" he nodded to you.
"there are much more positions on the kamasutra than pages on the bible." he said, and you smiled happily, your teeth showing up as well as your voice echoed:
"show me." you said "sex me- fuck, is fucking, right? fuck me. in the positions of the kamasutra." you said.
and god, he was so happy to take you by the waist, kiss you and lead your leg to wrap around his waist.
it didn't took many minutes for you to be without your bloomers, your panties put aside for him to grind his cock on your cunt, teasing you, and you didn't knew, but you felt like you were soaked up in something sticky- your wetness. "t-that's not missionary," you moaned, bucking your hips back at his teasing moves.
"you're right," he answered, groaning as he kissed your frowning face. "that's the clasp position, doll." with his hands on your waist, and yours on his shoulders, he finally penetrated you, earning a long moan out of your mouth.
you weren't a virgin, though you didn't know that, you used to have a husband on your previous life before you died, but you were never satisfied and you have never been- not until he slowly thrusted inside your pussy, making you feel every inch of his dick inside you.
"fuck!" you cried, a cry without tears as you undid the buttons of his shirt.
"what is it?" he asked, a moan leaving his throat as you ripped the shirt and bite his neck, too impatient to unbutton all of the buttons that were prohibiting you from seeing his body.
"i wanna see you," you moaned, slowly bucking your hips back, mouth agape as you let a rude moan leave your head "i wanna see your body."
he chuckled at your words, his hands still holding your body to keep you still as he fucked you. however, it wasn't bad, but you wanted to see how it would feel if it was fast.
"f-faster, please. just wanna see- s-see how it feels." you pleaded, your eyesight blurry as you looked down, seeing how your bare pussy took him in so well, almost devouring him into you.
he promptly obeyed you, going faster and deeper, a moan leaving your throat as his skin slapped against yours. and to see you squirming under him felt like heaven- a sight that no one but him could capture.
even when your walls squeezed his cock and you came around him, your pussy gushing around him, your stamina was still higher than his, which led to you edging him, not letting him cum until you felt so tired that you'd be passed out by his side.
which didn't happen for a long time. for at least six rounds, you were still edging him, slapping him every time he was ready to cum. you didn't allow it.
and by now, you were riding him non-stop, your eyes shut closed as you yourself abused your cunt on his cock, who throbbed painfully and made him throw his head back when he finally cummed inside you, stuffing you rope after rope.
"hey!" you called out slapping his chest, as he still gripped his nails on your skin, marking small crescent moon phases on your skin. he looked at you with an angry frown. "i don't wanna stop just now! i want more!" you said, not caring about his growling state, you thought it looked cute on him.
"god, you're terrible." he grunted, changing positions. "just this one more time and it's over." you nodded, agreeing with him as he finally slapped your clit, making you mewl and squirm under him. "see? you're too sensible, if we keep going," he thrusted "you're gonna have a difficult time walking straight."
"i can always dance." you said, legs spread to let him pound into you. he chuckled, slapping your thigh.
"let's see." he kissed you with a slight open mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he thrusted into you, letting you be a pillow princess for once in the day as you scarred his back with your nails, his pace was quicker than before, probably quicker than yours, and it made you melt entirely, your breathing became heavy and rapid.
when he pinched your clit, you felt strangely dumber, moaning into the kiss that was soon broke apart.
he spit into your mouth, his eyes boring into yours. "swallow it." and you did, crying from the pleasure as he rubbed your clit. "good girl, doll." he smiled.
"d-don't stop, coryo, please. just a bit more and i'll cum- i-i promise i'll let you rest after!" you mewled, squirming as he pound into you.
"hm, i don't know, doll. when i said i wanted to cum you didn't really allowed me to. why should i allow you?" he asked, pecking your temple.
"please. please! i can't hold it in!" you said, your boobs bouncing into the corset you were still wearing. he got rid of it in the blink of an eye, and you didn't even noticed where it had gone, too focused on the pleasure in between your legs as you cried.
he smiled to the view of your body. of course there was a bunch of scars there and there that were already healed, specially the one that connected your neck, but it didn't really mattered to his dick, neither to him. he loved just how doe eyed you were, how dumbly you asked about things and how you didn't questioned him more than once about something, like now.
"i-i'm sorry, i-i just wanted more. i didn't thought about your pleasure- s-sorry, please, let me cum! pleease!!"
"hm. no" he said, grabbing your ass and kissing your temple oh so kindly as he fucked you raw. "let's see how long you will last since you were so hungry for it."
and you didn't last much, just likenhe thought. the more you concentreated on the feeling of his dick on your cunt and the way his balls slapped against your ass, the closer you were to cumming again, and you did just after he came inside you again, smiling dumbly at him as you squirt on his cock, too sensitive from your previous orgasms.
"i'm sorry, coryo" you said, still teary eyed as you hugged him, hand pawing at his chest.
"for?" he frowned, he had already pulled his trousers up, guarding his dick into the fabric.
"f...for edging you, 'm sorry." you said, sleepy and pouty. he chuckled.
"it's okay," he said, caressing your head "at least you said sorry."
and you slept the most comfortable sleep of your post-mortem life, even drooling a bit on his chest, but he loved you just too much to do something about your innocent, naïve nature other than love and cherish it.
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sunboki · 8 months
Text
KOREA'S MOST WANTED (DEAD OR ALIVE) : SUNBOKI
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🎥 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader ( with hints of other attraction ((mainly 3racha cause im a whore)) no poly )
TROPE. non-idol au, criminal! au, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut
WORD COUNT. 6.8k & 33 minute read
WARNINGS. smut, blood, guns/weapons, shoot-out, murder, mentions of drugs and poison, descriptive violence, suggestiveness, manipulation, death(not major characters), cursing
PLAYLIST
AUG'S NOTES. a weird spin to a not-quite mafia au but i love the lore.. enjoy. if you decide to read, feedback is always appreciated!!
SYNOPSIS. Eight notoriously wanted criminals work solo. They always have. Except when their dark work and concealed identities are put at risk, they find themselves with no other choice but to work together—and what better place to do so than the back fields of a house in the middle of nowhere? The location was ideal, until you open the doors of your grandparents barn and accidentally meet Korea’s most wanted.
or alternatively
In which stumbling in the wrong place at the wrong time leaves you face to face with some of the most-wanted criminals in all of South Korea.
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CRIMINAL #0001 — BAHNG, CHRISTOPHER.
CRIMINAL RECORD
Christopher has been convicted of illegal weapon trafficking on eighteen counts of federal offenses. He is notoriously dangerous. Please proceed with caution.
⭑ REWARD
⎯ CRIMINAL FILES (additional cases)
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The only thing illuminating your walk to the barn is your phone light and the hardly helpful moon peeking between heavy clouds.
You’ve done this a billion times, but tonight there’s just something ..unsettling. You can’t put your finger on it.
Shaking the thought from mind, you fiddle with the small lock hitched onto wide, dark red barn doors, untangling rusted chains like routine. That is, until you hear a sound. An unusual sound, an unnerving sound.
By that time you’d already pushed open the doors, and the weight of what sat in front of you—the weight of what was responsible for the sound—made you feel faint.
“Who.. Who are you people?”
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Every October you visit your grandparents (or whenever your schedule isn’t jam-packed, but most often in October) when the leaves are deep orange and red, dappling gravel driveways and leaving the once abundant trees bare of their spring greenery.
The weather, though overcast in the autumn season, never stays gray for too long if you wake up early enough. Your grandpa taught you that, how to witness the early morning view before being covered by clouds.
On this occasion, however, you certainly didn’t plan on waking up early, especially not while rooming in your comfortable old bedroom.
Your grandparents house, despite being in the middle of nowhere, was so homey, so familiar. You’d be sure to soak up as much of this easiness as you could before returning back to life, savor the moments the best you could.
“Have you heard?” Your grandmother utters, fingers expertly dicing fruits, gaze glued to the TV.
“Grandma, I just got here, so no I haven’t heard anything,” You laugh, dragging your luggage through the hallway while the drone of the latest news feature serves as background noise. Probably another celebrity split-up, you assume.
Surely, considering the stubborn woman’s frantic waving once you come back into the living room, beckoning you to watch with her.
“Look! They’re wrecking havoc everywhere recently. Folks are calling them ‘Korea’s most wanted.’” Shaking her head repeatedly, she points at the screen displaying a churned building left to nothing but ash.
You hum absentmindedly, listening to the reporter talk.
“Using the title the media has given, this building, once a printing firm, has been dissolved into ashes overnight. The attack is said to have been the doing of ‘The Arsonist’, a member of one of the most wanted people on the radar…”
“If you run into one of them,” Having completely forgotten about the other presence in the room, you flinch. “Call your Grandma, I’ll swat ‘em over the head with my shovel.”
Gesturing with an imaginary shovel in hand, you can’t help but laugh at her silliness, quickly shaking the lingering thought away.
Korea’s most wanted here? Here’s probably the last place they’d show up, too busy massacring the big cities to care about this old house.
Resorting to scurrying onto a kitchen stool, you fill in the nosy old lady on what life has been like, how work has been treating you, and all the other nosy questions your grandmother thinks up slicing apples.
By the time you look out the window, the sky is almost fully dark, until a sudden flash of headlights tells the household grandpa’s back from work, hopping from his rickety blue pickup truck to greet you. 
There’s a smile gracing his wrinkled features, regarding you like you were still eight years old. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, everyone listens. Similarly, when he tells you he loves you—something he barely does—the moment, whatever it may be, is special.
Settling in for the night, you help wash dishes and insist the stoic woman takes a seat before she breaks her back leaning over the sink, which she rolls her eyes and ignores no less.
Not like you expected anything else, she’d wash these dishes till the end of time knowing her.
“Y/n, dear, would you mind making sure the barn lamp is shut off? I’m worried it’ll catch fire if I forget.”
Speaking of the end of time, you hadn’t stepped foot in the barn in what felt to be decades, too occupied with the house and town to remember that ramshackle building outside.
Of course you said yes, deciding this was a prime opportunity to not forget in the process of slipping on a sweater to help battle the cold, approaching the barely visible building.
You think you hear someone talking but choose to ignore it, pretending it was the wind or something along those lines. It’s autumn and you’re plenty far away from suburban areas, so most likely an animal lie responsible.
That was, until you pry open the barn doors.
Immediately, a stranger with cat-like features has a serrated dagger held to your throat.
Closing your eyes instinctively, you wait to feel the cold metal breaking skin, hesitantly cracking open an eye to meet the attacker’s chilling stare boring into the side of your face.
He takes a few seconds to exchanges glances with another in the dimly lit space then back to your stock-still frame. Briefly, you feel your phone get pulled from your pocket but don’t budge, worried one wrong movement would automatically have the cold metal slitting your throat.
“Walk. Make the slightest move and nobody finds your body, understood?”
Shakily, you nod, feebly inching forward before getting shoved onto the container your grandpa kept extra tools in, splinters piercing the back of your thighs.
Wonderingly, your eyes flicker to each stranger surrounding you. Counting eight in total, some taller, some shorter, you gulp, outnumbered by a large margin you’re sure would be nearly impossible trying to escape from.
Without exchanging a word, one of the shorter, more muscular men steps forward, seeming to inspect you. His rough grip finds your chin, jerking your head from side to side then up to meet his honeyed brown eyes. They’re surprisingly kind compared to his demeanor.
“She’s pretty. Might earn us a good penny if you want, Bahng. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” Cocking his brows, you swiftly rip your head out of his hand, wrinkling your nose with disgust.
A frothing dread fills your gut, and you think for a moment letting that man with the dagger kill you off would’ve been a better doom.
“Hands off, Bin. If we wanted to get a price we need her to be in good condition.” A voice from behind this so-called “Bin” responds, and you feel the overwhelming urge to hurl.
They’re talking about selling you, like you’re not even human. A pretty porcelain object available at their disposal.
Good condition? You feel sick. You can’t see the man who replied, but you doubt it’d make your gut feel any more uncomfortable.
“Aw c’mon guys,” Another voice you finally spot to your right interjects, sporting chubbier cheeks and appearing quite out of place in this group. “You’re scaring her, go easy.”
Bin scoffs. “Should she be comfortable? We’re gonna kill her anyway, Jisung. Right, Bahng?”
God. Who is this Bahng guy that’s apparently in charge and why does “Bin” want you dead so badly? Didn’t he just call you pretty, or were you blacking out?
“..Right, Bahng?”
Bin falters, backing up as the face belonging to “Bahng” ushers him to the side.
Bahng, at least in the scarce lighting, is scarily handsome. Dyed hair nearly an auburn shade, a strong jaw, and calculating, dusky brown eyes that appear equally as kind as Bin’s.
You’ve learned to not trust the deceit.
Suddenly, a thought strikes.
Any minute now your grandparents will realize how long you’ve been gone and start to worry.
Your heart drops.
No. Don’t come here, stay in the house. No no no no.
Automatically, words stumble out of your mouth.
“Please- kill me, sell me, I don’t care. My grandparents- they’re gonna come here, I can’t have them here. If they find me here I... Please.” Chest rising and falling unevenly, you continuously glance at the door.
Waiting, waiting.
“Please spare them. I don’t want them to get hurt.”
He doesn’t blink, doesn’t make any expression apparent on that handsome face of his. Observing.
You’re a spectacle, an interesting one at that.
“And if I spare you, what do I get in return, hm?”
You’re caught off guard.
In return? What does he mean in return?
Think. Think. What the hell could someone like him want? He has enough money, you’re sure.
Fine. Make it broad.
“Anything. Anything, I promise.” Pleading, you anxiously shuffling atop the box, swearing to have heard the sound of moving outside. Somewhere behind the two of you someone chokes a laugh. You can’t find it in yourself to care.
Poking his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully, he eventually signals to the others before you’re being escorted through the back door by a not-so gentle Bin and a very much apologetic Jisung, sparing a glance back to the home you’d only seen for one day.
And if what Bin said about killing you was true, you wonder if you’ll ever see it again.
.. .
Ducking into one of the two cars parked directly behind the barn, you’re assigned the passenger seat, accompanied by Bahng who’s driving, Jisung, and a long-haired boy sitting beside him in the backseat.
They’re all strikingly beautiful opposed to the blood you’re sure has stained their hands, especially the one next to Jisung with features resembling that of a prince. Everything about him seems too elegant to do any harm. You know that’s a lie.
Mapping out your surroundings, you shuffle in the leather seat, waiting until all three men get situated to slam the door ajar and run. Second instinct, no thoughts, just survival.
You run, run and run as fast as you can while the thump of shoes echo behind you. Far away, you have to get away. Get away get away get aw— a force slams into you from behind and you go toppling down.
Gasping as the air mercilessly ripped from your lungs returns, your vision adjusts, squirming thanks to the identity keeping you still. Bahng has you trapped below him, breath labored, effortlessly intimidating.
“Let— go of me!” You yell, voice betraying the utter desperation overtaking every fiber of your being.
He holds you down, meeting your eyes without fail as you struggle and shout. Shouting and screaming so loud into the darkness in fact, that the man finally covers your mouth with a hand as you tremble, watery gaze fixated on his. Burning, venomous hatred.
“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, sweetness. So you either walk back to the car or I go through things the hard way. What will it be?”
He thumbs the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead, hand finally pulling off your mouth.
Hypocrite.
“Fuck you.” You spit, and the man’s brows lift, lips pulled into an amused smile as he wipes his cheek.
“Hard way it is.”
Instantaneously, you’re hauled over his shoulder, not straining a bit despite the incessant kicking and pounding of your fists against his shoulder.
And just to prove how much he wholeheartedly deserved that fuck you, he made sure to lock the vehicle twice right in front of your face, receiving an equally as distasteful glare through the windshield in return.
The car ride was quiet, only interrupted by him asking if the air was too cold which you responded to with the middle finger. Jisung giggled.
Wee hours of morning peer through thick clouds, the road briefly illuminated by your headlights, corn stalks for miles lining either side. A barely palpable trace of life noticeable in a church’s steeple in the distance—once stark white, now stained and evidently aged.
Looking in the mirror, you locate the other vehicle tailing, assumed to be carrying the additional boys. Considering where your lone source of communication may be hidden (a.k.a your phone), you strain trying to spot it in your peripheral.
No use. Just you and this shit-hole of a situation.
Either way, what would you even say? “Please help me I’ve been kidnapped by eight of Korea’s most wanted criminals”? Yeah, they’ll definitely believe that.
There’s a hum from the prince-like man.
“This is the perfect place for a murder,” He speaks so nonchalantly, as if he referred to the weather and not killing someone.
Chills spread along your arms.
Jisung chuckles. “You’re right, no traces at all. Either way, even if someone did find them they’d likely already be rotten.”
You’re nauseous.
“Say, do you know how long it takes for a body to rot out here?” He asks, and your dizziness keeps you from realizing he’s referring to you, stomach threatening to spill all of its contents any second now.
And they expect you to know that?
Your silence leads to Jisung earning a smack from his backseat companion, scolding him hushedly.
Bahng stays quiet, one hand holding the wheel and the other splayed on the center console. Occasionally though you’ll see his eyes flit elsewhere, or maybe it’s your imagination.
Car eventually falling mute with a few passengers sleeping, you get close to doing the same before the harsh jerk of the car stirs everyone wide awake, clutching onto their seats.
You’d swerved into a small expanse of corn, wheels crushing the crops beneath them. Instantly the three reach under their seats, instinctively grabbing out pistols and pushing open the doors slowly, bodies crouched low.
Preparing to hide to the best of your ability, a hand on your arm keeps your movement at bay, discovered to belong to Bahng.
“Just keep in mind what Jisung said, by the time anyone finds you you’ll be rotted, pretty thing.” He sends you a sickeningly sweet smile, cocking the hammer of his gun and disappearing out the door where you hear someone shout: “I fucking knew we were being followed!” Prior to the loud ricochet of bullets being fired.
You duck down in the passenger seat, attempting to be as small and forgettable as possible out of sight. That is until a gunshot strikes the side of the car, narrowly bypassing where you’re curled up on the floorboard.
An involuntary scream escapes you, and your palm clamps over your mouth, shuddering and shaking like a leaf.
It’s a natural reaction, shrinking away, too horrified to act. So when your door is violently swung open, you prepare for the worst before recognizing Bin’s face, who legitimately rips you from the seat and drags you away.
Stopping beside a minimal clearing, you observe he isn’t carrying a weapon of any kind, a factor that makes your hopes slightly plummet. Granted, it’s not that you don’t think he’d be capable of defending himself (and you), but his fists against a gun didn’t sound too promising.
Swiftly instructed to not move, he races off, effectively tackling a man to the ground and leaving a pool of blood seeping where he lay.
Except, Bin abruptly evades your vision, leaving you to notice the prince-like boy in his stead, waving his arms and yelling something you strain to recognize.
“Behind you!” He had been shouting.
Your soul fills with dread.
In an instant you brace for impact, ears picking up the whirring of an object against the wind before the crack of a bat makes contact with your attackers head. The man goes down like a sack of bricks.
Bin, holding a nail embedded baseball bat propped on his shoulder, appeared just on time.
He had a streak of blood smeared across his cheek which you guessed belonged to someone else, and his knuckles lay bruised and torn despite the massive shit-eating grin slapped on his face.
“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough despite never looking more alive. It’s terrifying.
Shaken, you give yourself a once over, hurriedly shaking your head. He barks a laugh.
Gunshots eventually dying off, the nine of you regroup, some suffering minor injuries and others standing untouched.
Among them, the dagger-wielding criminal is one of the untouched. You’re not surprised.
Jisung is cussing wildly, leg ripped up pretty bad while leant against said dagger-wielding criminal, sending his counterpart a sour glare.
“Those motherfuckin’ assholes need ‘ta learn some fuckin’ manners..” Jisung spews curses, lips pulled up in a sneer as the others help him into the bullet-embedded car.
Reversing out of the densely packed foliage, no one dares say a word the entire rest of the drive, preoccupied with going back to their interrupted sleep or blankly gazing into the night.
The destination, appearing to be a company building by its exterior (and the lack of daylight), easily averages the size of an extreme warehouse. You curve into an enormous parking garage, every other space occupied by some multimillion dollar sports car.
Upon walking inside though, you’re left in the main entrance with Jisung while the remainder slip into a separate room.
His leg is bandaged thanks to “Jeongin”, whom, after briefly seeing them in brighter lighting, you guess is the youngest-looking one. Light hair and a smile you’re certain breaks all law-breaking guidelines.
Arrangement of chairs mimicking that of a doctor’s office, you guess the decorum is used to disguise what actually goes on here.
Clearing your throat, you debate on speaking about the question burning a hole through your skull.
“Why do you want me to live?”
Managing to haul himself backwards on a chair, Jisung shrugs.
“Why not? It’d be fun having someone other than those boneheads around.”
Typical Jisung reaction, you assume. This is the same dude bringing up murder like it’s a daily occurrence after all.
“Plus, we’re normally workin’ solo. Some circumstances forced us to work together.” He absentmindedly waved, and you bite the urge to ask about these so-called “circumstances”.
With Jisung, you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You have a feeling asking him about it though would only lead to a response along the lines of: “Hey, it adds to the fun, right?” as if murder was a leisurely hobby.
You can’t help but feel baffled with how casually he talks about the additional men. Friends, as if they’re friends. Not like they would be, Jisung said it himself, “circumstances” pulled them together.
However, the danger they’d pose working as a team would be unreal. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.
Goosebumps crawl upon your forearms.
"Y’know, I used to protect people like you." Han Jisung, whom you now recognized as The Arsonist, tilted his head to the side when he said that.
Strikingly beautiful, just like the others. Soft, round cheeks. Dark, soulful eyes and pursed, puffy lips.
You recall your grandmother telling you some of the prettiest flowers carry the most poison. Now it makes sense.
Blinking, you choose your words rather carefully.
This man, the one who upon first glance looks like he couldn’t harm a fly, burned down a printing firm yesterday. The same man alongside seven other notorious criminals discussing your fate.
Korea’s most wanted.
“Why’d you stop? Protecting people, I mean.” Coming out mumbled, you watch him click his tongue and change posture, not phased whatsoever.
It was a genuine question, considering whatever job he had before —if it came down to protecting— seemed to be something linked to the law. Unusual, for a criminal or his level.
“I got bored,” He yawned, lower lip jutting out.
Talk about a juxtaposition to his psychotic tendencies.
Bored. Han Jisung, The Arsonist, got bored of being a good guy.
It gave you a whole new perspective to insane.
“..You ask a bunch of questions, huh. I guess that makes sense since you might die- no! Not die- well, I’m not sure but- you’ll be fine!”
Wow Jisung. You seriously suck at convincing.
Oh how you wish your grandma would appear with her shovel right about now. Scratch that, you wish she would’ve swatted them over the head much earlier than now.
“Alright, but where will we keep her while Bahng decides on the cover up?” The seven go quiet, and if it wasn’t for the whirring of a fan overhead you would’ve guessed they were telepathically communicating, few sparing hasty glances at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.
Changbin was the one who asked, but he didn’t continue, nor even meet Bahng’s eyes despite his normal, boisterous behavior.
If there was one person they all had a running respect (and fear) of, it would be Bahng. He’d brought up the idea of working together, and he’d be the one leading in result.
Freckle Boy (the name The Hitman had came up with before learning Felix’s’ name) opens his mouth.
“I can—“
“She’ll stay with me.” Bahng interjects, and no one lifts a finger.
Changbin sees the blond’s pinched expression through his peripheral.
“But I have an extra—“
“You heard me, Felix. She stays with me,” He sternly repeats, and the younger deflates, mumbling something to himself after Hyunjin sends him a reassuring nod.
The atmosphere eased up slightly opposed to how suffocating it had been earlier, enough to where the men occupying their individual chairs took deep breaths of air they hadn’t know they’d been holding.
The door opens and they disperse in different directions while Bahng lags behind, speaking to Jeongin about something hushed.
You, on the other hand, are greeted with a rather sympathetic smile from the blond, telling you whatever they talked about wasn’t good.
From your right, Bin clears his throat, effectively giving you an unprecedented heart-attack.
“For the record, we weren’t planning to sell you.”
A grin grows on your face, taking this sweeter opportunity to pick some fun. You’re stuck here anyway, right?
“We weren’t? I think you were.”
He huffs, crossing muscular arms over his chest stubbornly. Behind him, a neighboring coffee-haired man snickers, earning Bin’s slap on the shoulder and a quiet “Yah.. Seungmin..” That completely sabotage any chance of taking him seriously.
“..I wasn’t.”
Mhm, definitely. Like the tips of his ears weren’t blood red.
The whiplash you’re getting from being treated you like a rag doll earlier becomes quite ironic.
Wasting time incessantly teasing the man, it’s not until he’s lead off by Bahng that you quiet down, awkwardly shifting your weight to either heel.
“..So?” You interrupt the silence, only given a jerk of Bahng’s head as a signal to follow. Talk about vague.
Overflowing with endless questions, he finally stops and turns to you, brows furrowed.
Attractive. My god he’s attractive.
“Would you just tell me where we’re-“You’re staying in my room for the time being.”
To say you felt shocked barely brushed the surface of your internal wasp nest, endlessly buzzing and swarming. His room? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“I mean,” He notes, looking amused now. “Unless you plan on staying in the other rooms with cameras and giving security a show then—“
“Fine.”
Sending you a smug grin, it’s hard not feeling bewildered as he rounds a corner, revealing one, the fact that he has literal guards standing on either side of the double doors, and two, that his “room” is the short story of a penthouse.
Wow.
.. .
Turning off the ignition, Changbin stuffs the keys in his pocket upon slipping inside, scrunching his nose at the sight before him.
“Fuck dude, you’re a tank.” The man groans, eyeing Chris who’s currently doing handstand push-ups on wooden parallettes.
When Chris is nowhere to be found, he’s here, hidden away in this partially abandoned gymnastics studio on the outskirts of Incheon. Small, though with all materials intact.
Occasionally teenagers would come roaming around, having heard of hauntings and gruesome murders they want to stick their noses in. It’s plausible, sure, the murder part at least.
Changbin didn’t believe in hauntings, because no horrific spirit ever dared deter him from enjoying his job, over and over. He didn’t have remorse, he didn’t feel.
Life was easier that way, without emotion driving your decisions.
In fact, he can’t recall the last time being a hitman scared him. Call it crazy, but if you think about it in terms of “eliminating those that shouldn’t be there”, he’s doing the world a favor.
He wouldn’t tell Bahng that for many reasons.
“And your mouth is still as bad as usual.” The older says through gritted teeth, slowly lowering his legs, coated in a sheen of sweat that greasily muss strands of hair.
He barks a laugh. “‘Can’t fix it.”
“That’s for sure,” Chris responds, grabbing the towel The Hitman held out with a thankful pat on the back.
Arranging the equipment back into its designated places, Changbin leans against the doorframe, brows lifted curiously.
“She’s sleeping, if you’re wondering.”
Telepathically, the man answers his unspoken question, referring to you who he imagines is prettily slumped in Chris’ bed.
Prettily. Did he say prettily?
Forget it.
Unknown to both your name and whereabouts, you begrudgingly pull the comforter closer over your head, successfully blocking the sunlight for a few more minutes of sleep. Your entire body is sore, and a numbing buzz has settled in your head, drowning out any cognitive ability to think.
Well, the extra time is amazing until your bladder decides to sabotage you.
Blindly blundering off the mattress, you idly navigate around, blinking a foggy haze from your vision.
Step, step, and then thump! You slam right into something—someone.
Finally granted a clear view, you swear your brain short-circuited.
It’s Bahng, staring down at you with a towel wrapped around his neck while water droplets cling to his skin—to his chest—that you notice is quite bare at the moment.
“Christ— Jesus—“ Slapping a hand over your eyes, you take multiple strides backwards, feet stumbling prior to hands grasping your wrists.
Easing you up right, he kindly leads your sleep-consumed form into the bathroom, big hands momentarily maneuvering your hips to the side on his way out.
Effectively stalling his movements, you silently drag him back closer to you, thumbs reaching up to smoothing his deep eye-bags.
He freezes, words he planned to say cut off.
His eyelids flutter shut in contentment, and in those tender seconds, you stand there, palms delicately cupping his cheeks, relaxing the hard lines of his face whilst steam gives the mirror a bleary cast.
Any other situation and you would’ve admitted yourself into a psych ward, but the alarm clock on his nightstand reading 7:18AM told you whatever you did next was all a lucid dream.
“You don’t sleep much.. do you?” Softly mumbling, he hums against your touch, own hand holding yours against his face.
Bahng cracks a barely there smile.
“Hard sleeping when the world’s after you,” He comments, remark laced with humorless hilarity. You can’t say you disagree.
Although, most good things—all good things—end far too quickly. Because when Changbin bursts through the door, voice choked in his throat, you hesitate your movements.
“.. Just uh, wanted to say the car’s waiting- I mean, the car’s ready for you. Yeah. Bye.” Awkwardly shuffling, he made a direct beeline for the door.
Never in your life did you expect a Hitman to be so awkward. And not just a Hitman, thee Hitman, Bin. Who, although you’d never say it to his face, definitely stuttered.
Unfortunately forced to separate, you’re handed one of his jackets once you managed to convince Bahng to let you come along.
Taking the elevator to the parking garage, an assistant who (you assume) routinely fetches the keys to an otherworldly expensive Lamborghini bows low, greeting either of you with a mandatory please-don’t-hurt-me smile.
You don’t ask where you’re headed, knowing the answer would only lead to more questions instead.
Bahng’s like that, you’ve discovered. Unpredictable to everyone but himself. Private.
Alternatively, compared to what you had imagined (something like a shed or a slaughter-house), he pulled into the gravel driveway of an old home, wooden docks on the roof sticking in strange directions, evidently battered from years of storm turmoil.
Sporting a confused expression yourself, he steps from the scissor doors, ushering you to follow suit.
A bit out of place, you decided. It’s not every day you witness a Lamborghini parked in front of a house like this.
“We’re visiting my grandmother, I visit every week.” He announces, and you could’ve seriously bet money on how uncharacteristic that move was.
This man, the man who ran disappeared at ungodly hours of night with unknown intentions, the man who killed with no remorse, was visiting his grandmother.
First Bin and now Bahng. What a wild card.
Living up to the title, Bahng couldn’t have been more opposing to his usual demeanor, shrugging off his coat and shoes at the doorway and fixing Barley tea for the short woman residing in her rocking chair.
Struggling to unzip his jacket that’s massive size engulfs your frame, you curiously explore, noting the sheer normality.
No weapons, no apparent knowledge of Bahng’s illegal activity patterning the household.
In this house, it’s just a grandmother and her grandson. Not Bahng, but Chris.
The name sounds strange on your tongue.
She wholeheartedly welcomed you in, scolding him for his prominent scars and holding hands that had unforgivable violence wedged between fingernails.
Somehow, watching him felt like betrayal. And although you doubt his grandmother would love him any less despite the gruesome reality, to know so much occurred behind the scenes made things, well, uncomfortable.
You be sure to introduce yourself, spending a good hour and a half entertaining the wrinkled woman before bidding your farewells and returning to familiar stifling tension on the drive home.
Your piling conscious suggests you say something, but you second guess yourself, ultimately garnering the courage after many failed attempts of making small talk once you both returned back to his room.
He’s wearing glasses now, and you swear you’ve never seen someone so unbearably beautiful in your life. Hell, him merely breathing has any comprehensible phrase disappearing instantaneously.
“Have you told anyone about what you do?” You start, causing him to lean over from his place on the side of the mattress, fiddling with something on the nightstand.
You crane to hear his response.
“Sometimes it’s best to lie to keep both parties happy.”
…That’s a no.
“Then, Chris, would you rather be happy living a lie or sad knowing someone’s honest truth?”
Chris.
Though his real name, the words still sound foreign, especially aloud.
He seems to have felt the same, head snapping your direction.
Grinning.
“And what do you know about lying, sweetness?”
“It’s not what I know, it’s what you want to know.” You scoot closer to him, mimicking his cocky smile. “Here’s an example, would you be happy not knowing I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, or sad hearing that I didn’t plan to tell you?”
A low chuckle.
“Did you learn the manipulation part from Minho?”
“Is it working?”
Eyes flickering back and forth from his lips to his eyes, you find yourself lingering centimeters apart, both intoxicated on each bated breath.
“A little bit,” He whispers, unwavering stare flickering to your parted lips before he pulls the glasses off his face and tilts his head to capture your lips.
You hastily climb onto the bed, fingers tangled in his tousled curls that peer from straight hair.
New, but not. As if you’ve kissed him all your life.
Working down your neck, his warm grip eases your legs apart, transitioning from kneading the flesh of your inner thighs to your ass.
“Oh— fuck.” You sigh out, delicious pressure applied right where you needed him most, stirring a deep wave of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body.
The Gunsman has you wrapped around his finger. A man whose power owns guards that stand in front of his seemingly normal door, a man whose power leaves you helplessly entangled in his every move, neck accessorized in his love bites.
Its wrong. Everything is hopelessly wrong.
You can’t get enough.
.. .
Index dragging across the fabric of sheets, your attention bursts alive, body jarring in a hold, someone else’s hold.
Bahng’s hold.
His head is tucked into your neck, arms hugging your bare back against his equally bare body. Bahng feels like comfort, home.
You never thought you’d be referring to a criminal when you said that.
Adjusting, you manage to roll over, admiring his ever kissable lips puckered in a pout, bed-hair forming strange shapes in the side of his pillow before mesmerizing brown eyes begin fluttering open.
Quickly rolling back around, you attempt at pretending to be asleep to no avail, because Bahng buries his face closer to the nape of your neck, sighing a lengthy groan.
Hands exploring you absentmindedly, he ensures to squeeze your chest at least once, otherwise keeping a tender touch settled on your tummy.
“G’morning…” He grumbles hoarsely, barely awake prior to his phone buzzing on the nightstand and his hushed “fuck” earning a giggle from you.
Caller ID: Hwang Hyunjin, the screen reads.
Without even a proper warning, he’s simultaneously thrown into a shark tank the moment the call’s accepted.
So long for the morning afterglow.
“It’s ready,” The Physic utters, and the soft fizzing of chemicals in the background do nothing to cease his foaming pit of guilt.
Grateful you couldn’t see the tight-lipped expression he burns the wall with, he grimaces, sparing you a longing glance.
So peaceful, so beautiful.
This world truly is cruel.
Rising to his feet, he throws on a white button-up, adorned by one of the many black trench coats lining his closet. Discreet, convenient.
Reminding you to stay in bed till he gets back, he finds his footsteps faltering on the way down to the lab.
Bahng, Christopher Bahng, The Gunsman, is nervous.
You’ve really done something to him.
Although, before he can make a move Felix pries the door ajar, and from how he furiously chews his bottom lip immediately answers Chris’ question.
The final part of their cover-up? Getting you back.
Because everyone, including himself, knew he’d fall in love. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t, wouldn’t dare put you through that.
Wafting fumes invade his nostrils entering (essentially) Hyunjin’s lair, multiple cloths layered in a clear box.
“Chloroform, I messed with it a bit. It’s not concentrated enough to be lethal. It’ll just put her out for a little bit.” He pats the top of the box, tugging medical gloves off ringed fingers.
From across the room, Chris can feel eyes on him.
“And how do you know if it won’t kill her?” The person asks, Changbin asks, critiquing gaze fixated on Chris despite regarding Hyunjin.
“Because I tested it? Since when did you care?” Moodily, The Physic cross his arms.
“Since now.”
“Why? Weren’t you the one who wanted to sell her?”
Chris can smell the uprising tension from a mile away.
“Because I’m allowed to care about someone! Am I not, your fucking highness?” Changbin shouts, but hidden by Hyunjin’s irked facade, Chris notices the slight tug of his lips, the peeking amusement.
Turns out Chris wasn’t the only one falling.
What a twist of events.
Interrupting their face-off, he hoists the moderately heavy box up, curtly nodding to Hyunjin.
Maneuvering around the warehouse back toward your room, he fastens a mask onto his face, spreading a few separate cloths into a smaller container.
Felix and Hyunjin’s doing, Chloroform cloths.
There were a few recommendations. Minho suggested knocking you out and going about, Seungmin with the grand idea of blackmailing you into leaving, and Jisung who wanted to keep you here.
Chloroform it was.
Returning to his bedroom, he finds himself understanding Changbin’s anger the longer he watches you, drifted back asleep, angel-like.
Fuck.
This hurts.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he delicately caresses the skin of your cheek, squinting to marvel, to study. The way your eyebrows furrow, exhaling a big breath. Infatuating.
“Can I take you to my favorite place?” He inquires, and you dazedly roll around, small frown gracing oh so tempting lips, swollen from the night before.
“Your favorite place..?”
Even your voice is infatuating. Dreamy.
Chris hums his reply.
Lifting yourself up, you agree, letting him take care of you, brush your teeth for you, undress you. Things oddly mundane for a person like him to want to do, but oddly sweet all the same.
Not sexual, but intimate. Dearly, dearly intimate.
The drive winds along backroads, slowing to take a right down a barren, rocky road situated between countless trees. In the distance you make out the faint glow of light, a clearing.
Upon breaching the forest, your expectations are instantly blown away.
Sundown, evidence of how long you’d slept (and how long Chris had kept you up), gloriously paints the sky dazzling hues.
No picture could encompass this view.
Putting the car into park, you perch on the hood, legs aimlessly swinging, breeze idly passing by.
Admire.
“I asked Jisung, but now I wanna hear it from you.”
He stays quiet.
“Why did you want me to live?” You mischievously pique, fingers drumming.
Bahng approaches nearer, turning to stand between your legs where you sit.
“I like you,” He nonchalantly responds, and the overwhelming need to push him further, dance over that thin line becomes irresistible.
“Only ‘like’ me?”
Licking his lips, he unexpectedly tilts your head to meet him. Tender, gentle.
Your heart hurts. Because unlike previously, this kiss feels regretful, feels sad.
Your arms, once clutching onto that trademark trenchcoat, wrap around his neck, his finding purchase upon your hips.
Yet, you could tell it wasn’t greed driving him. Your earlier ravenous desire, your lust, was gone.
Instead, he was carving you into his memories, starting with his lips. He’d already done so with his hands, with his body the night before.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers, and before you could ask any questions he forces your attention back to his eyes, swimming with an emotion you didn’t know Chris could exhibit.
Hurt.
Inexplicable hurt overwhelm that stare. Creases his always-taut brows.
“Just trust me, please.”
Please.
“Chris,” You hesitate.
There’s been that gnawing sensation ever since getting roped into this circus. Because this was only temporary, undoubtedly headed to an inexplicable conclusion.
You wonder if perhaps this is your end, your end with Bahng, with Chris.
Someone you’ve fallen in love with. So, so fucking hard.
And from the way he’s looking at you, it looks like he has too.
But you trust him. You trust him more than you had ever trusted anyone before, and so you nod.
“Chris, I love..”
Your volume dissolves upon the cloth being held to your face, eyes rolling back into your head as you fall limp into his arms, fingertips still touching his skin.
“..Love ….you.”
He kisses you once more, slower this time, cradling you in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, I love you.”
Speaking softly to avoid his pain betraying him, Bahng carefully situates you into the passenger seat, ignoring the drone of the engine from how rapidly the speedometer climbs. Numb to anything, everything.
The Aventador’s screen alights with a call.
“What,” He rasps, gleaming traffic lights casting red and green shadows across the car’s black interior.
“Is she...?” Felix asks, and Chris eases slightly. Subtle shuffling in the background reveals the others presence, awaiting the bottom line.
“Yeah.”
The freckled boy hums in response, dejection apparent.
Nevertheless, not a peep sounds, unusual for the usually rowdy crowd. Chris can tell some of them walk away, some staying.
Corn stalks ghosting past signify his location.
He hangs up.
He’ll apologize later.
.. .
Waking up inside your grandparents house feels like a fever dream, like your body isn’t your own and when you open your eyes you’ll still be snuggled into Chris’s arms.
But you aren’t, and you’re also violently kicked out of that fantastical daydream when your grandmother shows up, all smiles, no “I’m so relieved to see you’re safe” or “where did you go?” apparent on any of her features.
“Why, you never told me you had a boyfriend!” She smacks your arm and you flinch back, wearing an expression only comprehensible as puzzlement.
Perhaps Chris payed them? Bought their silence and hid from the law in return?
But that’s not your grandparents. They wouldn’t keep their mouths shut about something like this.
So what the hell did he do?
“The handsome young man who drove you here from the airport!” Waddling over to point an accusing finger at the doorway, your head frantically snaps in every direction.
Your suitcases are zipped up, and no evidence of you ever even arriving here shows around the room.
That is until you notice your phone has miraculously returned on your nightstand.
Immediately swiping to scroll through messages, your thumb stops, lingering over a message from an unknown number.
Pausing, you click.
Don’t come looking for me, but if you need me, text this number.
You would’ve found the text eerily creepy if you didn’t have an idea of who sent it.
You do.
Because there’s no one else that says ‘don’t come looking for me’ and ‘if you need me’ in the same sentence other than him.
Bahng.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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60s-music-tourney · 5 months
Text
Poll list for the 70s music tourney
Round 3:
September vs Disco Inferno
Ballroom Blitz vs Rapper's Delight
The Chain vs Roxanne
Bad Girls vs Barracuda
Hotel California vs Killer Queen
Don't Fear the Reaper vs Lola
Rasputin vs Gimme Gimme Gimme
Rocketman vs Dancing in the Moonlight
Superstition vs Ain't no Sunshine
Heart of Glass vs I will Survive
Hooked on a Feeling vs Born to Run
Jolene vs Le Freak
Previous round beneath the Cut
Round 2:
(They Long to be) close to you vs Gimme Gimme Gimme
Don't Fear the reaper vs Starman
Hold the Line vs Killer Queen
Psycho killer vs The Chain
Do it again vs Lola
Renegade vs Dancing in the moonlight
Bat out of hell vs Le Freak
Disco Inferno vs Big Yellow Taxi
Have you ever seen the rain vs Hotel California
Heart of Glass vs YMCA
Ring my bell vs Roxanne
London Calling vs Bad Girls
Ain't No Sunshine vs Stayin Alive
Rasputin vs Sultans of the Swing
Barracuda vs Country roads
Hooked on a feeling vs Our House
The wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Rapper's Delight
Black Betty vs Rocket Man
Roundabout vs Ballroom Blitz
Funkytown vs I will survive
Mr.Blue Sky vs Born to Run
September vs Piano Man
Jolene vs Dream On
Superstition vs Freebird
Round 1:
Piano Man vs Imagine
Killer Queen vs Boys don't Cry
Gimme Gimme Gimme vs Let's get it on
I Will Survive vs Carry on Wayward Son
The Chain vs Blinded by the Light
Starman vs Let it Be
Rasputin vs Stairway to Heaven
American Pie vs Take Me Home County Roads
Renegade vs Me and Bobby Mcgee
Jolene vs Brandy (you're a fine girl)
September vs The Devil Went Down to Georgia
Hotel California vs Baba O'Riley
Ballroom Blitz vs The Boys are Back in Town
Don't Fear the Reaper vs Midnight Train to Georgia
Mr. Blue Sky vs The Logical Song
Stayin Alive vs Horse with no Name
Psycho Killer vs Blitzkrieg Bop
Rocket Man vs Smoke on the Water
Heart of Glass vs Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2
T. N. T. vs Black Betty
Southern Nights vs Le Freak
It's too late vs Disco Inferno
YMCA vs All Right Now
Big Yellow Taxi vs Live and Let Die
Freebird vs Detroit Rock City
Bad Girls vs Video Killed the Radio Star
I'll be there vs Ring my Bell
Rapper's Delight vs My Little Town
Dream On vs The Joker
Sultans of the Swing vs American Girl
We are Family vs Barracuda
Dancing in the moonlight vs Wheel in the sky
Escape (Pina Colada Song) vs Have you ever seen the rain
Born to Run vs Iron Man
Papa was a rolling stone vs London Calling
Hooked on a feeling vs Joy to the World
My Sharona vs Superstition
Roundabout vs Stuck in the Middle with you
LA Woman vs Roxanne
(They Long to be) Close to You vs Fire and Rain
Funky Town vs Heart of Gold
Time in a Bottle vs Our House
Ain't No Sunshine vs Anarchy in the UK
Do it again vs Just What I Needed
The wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Cats in the Cradle
Your Mama Won't Like Me vs Bat out of Hell
Hold the Line vs Crackling Rosie
Lola vs Heartbreaker
Bonus Rounds:
All Along the Watch Tower vs More than a Feeling
8 other songs by featured artists
60s practice round
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