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yunessa · 10 months

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Chapter 10: Count Daeran Kael ’Myriad-Melliflous-Monikers’ Arendae

Summary:

A count with striking metallic hair and a fellow bard with a lead.

Some meetings are fated to be, others are engineered, some are earned,and others are just mysterious. As my grasp on time began to loosen it seemed right I’d met my companions. Fated to be or by chance I could feel them every time I hummed and touched my magic. Elves have a special word for those that spend time around mortals- Forlorn. We are sociable creatures and are known to make friends easily. The more time I spent with these companions, the more it felt like home. I could fall asleep to Seelah’s snores just assured she was nearby or listen to Lann prepare arrows as I meditated. Forlorn are those that become saddened, burdened by the sorrow those they love will age and leave them centuries before the elves will die. But with these companions I could see why Forlorn made those such choices. It filled something to have them near me, to hear them talk and speak and laugh or just simply exist. It was a subtle realisation in the never-ending day before the Queen’s army came. I had forgotten what it felt like to have a friend who would watch my back as I slept or who would bandage my wounds when I was weary. For these friends, I felt I could stay a bit longer. Slip away later. It was only fair repayment to these friends after all. Nobody else besides my mentor had cared for me so much, with no reward in return. -Yunessa

The mansion was far grander than anything else on the street and far more intact. The outside was designed in a manner that screamed rich with its imported bricks and heavy wooden doors.

“Here! Here, please!” The Squire looked at them fearfully. “The chute… the chute had bodies the demons tossed in there. I can’t go again! Please.” His slender hands grabbed at the door frame and pulled. The door did not so much as budge with the squire’s desperate pull.

“Bodies?” Yunessa asked. Woljif had produced keys that bore the same seal that was on the doors. As Yunessa eyed Woljif he smiled and moved to lean over the lock. Woljif gave Yunessa a angelic smile in response to their look.

“You should have tried using your keys.”

“I- wait! You stole from me! You-”

“Squire.”

“Oh, that-yes, their heads were gone and I think maybe some of their hands? Or was it the arms?” The squire shuddered as he recalled. He tugged at the door as Woljif open dit with a satisfying click.

“Who has a door that only locks from the outside?” As Woljif spoke Yunessa could smell liquor and rich food wafting from deeper inside. The lights in the hallway were warm and the carpets beneath their feet were so soft that Yunessa felt their feet sink into it.

“Let’s save the party folk and then move on. There probably aren’t much to worry about here besides one of those worm pod things.” Yunessa pulled their lute out, plucking at a few strings. Some bards relied on instruments or words but Yunessa used both. It held to greater effect, they reasoned.

“There’s so much food here!” Ember commented as they strode into the dining room. The dining room was massive, easily twice the size of the Defender’s Inn with elegant velvet curtains, silk couches and dining tables that could buy entire houses, laden with food and drink to the point they sagged. The gilding on the walls and beams was intricate, the chandeliers elegant, exuding as much an air of awe as the other furnishings that adorned the room.

A group of nobility had gathered at the other end of the room, laughing softly.

“I must be well and truly drunk. I’m seeing freaks with horns.”

“They aren’t freaks, they’re darling.”

“Cute little creatures!”

The group burst into amused laughter.

Courtesans danced in the nude, giggling and laughing as musicians played in the corner, a melody popular among worshippers of Desna. Among them danced nobility- for that’s what they clearly were in their over adorned garb of silk covered in jewellery and embroidery- drunk or engaged in various entertainments.

The only one among them not otherwise engaged in drunken entertainments sat at the table, his face set in a tense expression as an overweight fellow standing at his side tried to engage him in conversation.

“Count, this Numerian elixir is quite splendid! This occasion is quite something- I haven't had a party like this since I was on a boat with the finest songstress in Mendev on my arm forty years ago!”

“Count Arendae!” Yunessa pitched their voice to rise above the noise. The musicians slowed their playing and stopped. “Count Arendae, we came to rescue you and your guests!” Their group must have made quite a sight entering, but Yunessa’s voice had made the party cease with the music. The man at the table turned his head and Yunessa was struck by the color of his eyes. A bright vivid shade of green. The partygoers began to whisper in the silence the music’s absence left.

“Save us?”

“Save us from what? The freaks? Haha!” One of the group at the far end laughed and his hand hit something in front of himself with a loud smack.

“Beauty… hurt me!” Came a low gravelly voice. The noble that had struck out didn’t cry out before he was hit hard enough for his body to utter a sickening crack. The Abrikandu that had been hidden behind the group had lashed out and it tore at the noble’s body, tearing the meat from it. The other demons that had been watching with the Abrikandu, also began to lash out.

The Count stood up, pushing his chair- and the fellow next to him aside- as the party attendees reacted to the death. They screamed and reacted like cornered men.

“The demons really did attack us!

“Run, hurry- back to the mansion!

“Someone call the inquisitors! Hurry!

“They attacked Baron Mestik!”

“Demons! Demons!”

“Wonderful.” The Count spoke up. “Now brace yourselves for the smell of your own blood, you ghastly eyesore!” With a sharp gesture The Abrikandu exploded in a spray of blood, meat, and bone to the sound of a courtesan’s shrill scream.

The fight had been brief. Between the Count’s surprising help and Yunessa’s group, it had been far less bloody than it would have been. The hall was muted now. Party goers of all ranks watching Yunessa. The count strode up, putting a crossbow back to his belt as he wiped blood from his hands with a handkerchief.

“Greeting valiant stranger who has just burst into my life.” The aasimar’s voice was surprisingly cheerful and polite but his eyes flicked between Yuness and the group. “I am the master of this house, Count Daeran Kael’Myriad-Mellifluous-Monikers’ Arendae.” He held up a hand. “No need to introduce yourself. I find remembering insignificant details such as the names of passing acquaintances a bore.” He oozed charm. Yunessa had rarely interacted with aasimar but they were always a charming lot- the divine blood in their veins made them notable.

“Wow.” Lann’s voice was light but held the edge of sarcasm. “Real bone-fide above ground blue blood and unparalleled aristocracy!” He sniffed loudly. “It makes me want to do something really crass, like blow my nose on the curtains.”

“No, don’t blow your nose-”

The Count- Daeran- gestured to a nearby curtain. One was only lightly covered in gore. “What are you waiting for, my squamous Squire? The curtains in this room are velvet, but we have some excellent silk ones with gold thread in the house. Take your pick- my soft furnishings are yours to do with as you wish. I am quite sick of the place, truly. I shall either sell it, or burn it to the ground and build a new mansion in its place.” Lann’s brow furrowed but before he could speak Yunessa interrupted him.

“I’m Yunessa.” Daeran canted his head, pale green eyes moving to look them over. “If we’re going to have a conversation, I have a name I prefer to be called by rather than passing acquaintance. You can forget it after if you’d like.” A name was important. It was their name and it mattered.

Daeran nodded in agreement. “ Very well. Now that we’re finished with the niceties, tell me this..” Ember went over to the curtains and gently tugged at one.

“Can you help me get one down?” She asked and Woljif was there, a long handled dagger in hand. Ember clapped her hands in delight as he cut into the velvet. Soot, her familiar, watched Woljif from Ember’s shoulder, black eyes studying the tiefling.

The Count snorted softly as he watched. “How did all those thrice damned demons end up at my soiree?”

“The city was attacked by Deskari, demons, a balor- storm something- demons, cultists- you name it. The city’s got several large cuts running through it.” Yunessa gestured to the curtains.

There was no way that the Count was drunk enough to have missed out on the events. In comparison to his inebriated, high guests, the count’s eyes were far too focused, his lips twisting in thought. “I want to ask if you’re joking-” Woljif cut away the length of curtain for Ember with a flourish that had her cheering Woljif on. Lights from the fires spilled into the banquet hall, twisting into ugly shapes on the floor. “But your face tells me you are not. It seems as though Deskari’s occasion was altogether more of a crush than mine, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“You don’t seem to be concerned about it.” Yunessa commented. The Count sounded as if he was discussing parties rather than the city’s fate. “Your doors won’t hold the demons off for long and we’ve no idea when the army is supposed to save the day-” Yunessa shrugged, their lips twitching. “If it does.”

He shrugged. “I’m not concerned about the city’s fate at all. I have no friends here I would care to mourn. The only alarming thing here is how easily this happened. I simply don’t care for the fact that demons could come calling into my home at any moment.” The lazy smile he put on was different than the emotions his eyes expressed - fatigue. “And to think everyone had so much faith that the Wardstones Iomedae’s herald would keep the demons away along with our tamed dragon. As if there had been no Drezen or a dozen other routs where the demons overcame every hurdle we threw at them…” The lay smile vanished as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The Arendae family.” Camilla spoke behind Yunessa. “Are one of the most ancient and oble families in Mendeve, related by blood to Queen Galifrey herself.” Yunessa could smell perfume, the sweet and cloying smell of flowers. “The COunt is the last remaining member of the Arendae family. The rest all perished ten years ago, in the tragedy at Heaven’s edge.” Daeran had stopped pinching the bridge of his nose as Camilla spoke and Yunessa could see his eyes harden even as his lips tugged into a smile. “The demons got in and massacred everyone inside but him.” Camilla’s hand brushed against Yunessa’s elbow. “You said you were ignorant of most things. With the memory loss. I hope it was most helpful.”

“I thank you for providing your friend with that helpful summary my lady.” The Count’s voice oozed courtesy, somehow managing not to sound grateful at all. I wouldn’t care to relive such events in front of strangers either. Yunessa kept that thought to themself as Daeran continued to speak “I believe I’ve seen you before- with that hilarious buffoon Horgus Gwerm. I sincerely hope you aren’t engaged in a… sordid arrangement with him. The thought of something so splendid in the proximity to something so grotesque makes me feel quite ill. You deserve a better fate than that man, no doubt.”

Ah, the insults of nobility. Only nobles had such a skill to ooze politeness and sweet words that made it seem on the surface as if they cared. But the words either held thinly hidden insults or verbal daggers.

Camilla sneered at the Count. “Your civility knows no bounds, Count. I most assuredly do not have any ‘arrangment’ with Master Gwerm. “ Irritation filtered through Camilla’s voice, despite the effort Yunessa caught as she spoke. Before she could continue Yunessa broke in.

“What should I know about you then Count?” Ember wrapped the velvet curtain over her shoulders, draping it like a fine cloak and knotting it tightly before she skipped over. “Besides that you’re highborn and very rich? I’m sure you’d be able to inform me.”

The Count’s lips twitched. “As a child, I had my very own pony. But I always dreamed of having a dog. I was never allowed one- the dog I wanted was seen as a peasant animal, a mongrel, utterly unsuitable for the scion of a noble line. The trauma haunts me to this day. I think of it every time I see a dog pass me by.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. That’s such a sad story.” She looked ridiculous wrapped in the cloak-curtain and the oversized jacket.

Daeran blinked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “I had not the slightest intention of upsetting such a lovely child.”

“I’m not lonely. Some people have even called me a scarecrow before.” She did look far too thin, even with her raven included.

“That’s patently absurd! Why, you can’t possibly be a scarecrow with a real crow following you around.” At the Count’s words Ember’s smile stretched into one even wider as if she’d heard the nicest compliment she’d receive that day. As Ember pet Soot Daeran’s gaze returned to Yunessa. “I’m sorry if I failed to sate your curiosity.” His eyes moved to Camilla who was ignoring them in favor of the crowd of nobility on the other side of the room. “I loathe talking about myself to people I don’t know, even more to those I do know.”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally.Are you simply saying it?”

“I understand.”

Seeming pleased with that Daeran continued: “The only thing worth knowing about me- aside from the fact I am highborn and filthy rich- is that I dislike puritans and demons in equal measure. Well…. Perhaps demons a tad more.”

Yunessa chuckled. “Only a tad? Let’s hope the puritans don’t decide being high born is an illegal sin next.”

“Do we get any gratitude for saving you?” Woljif asked abruptly. “Or is it just say, the curtains? Asking for a friend.”

“Of course, of course, where are my manners….” The Count inspected his hand, selecting the ring with the largest gemstone. Woljif’s face lit up until he tossed it to Yunessa after removing it. “There. You may also poke about the house and claim whatever takes your fancy. Though I imagine some of you already had that in mind.”

Woljif eyed Yunessa as they looked at the ring in their hand. “I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

“I’m sure you’re having a fun time, Yunessa.” Seelah came up, gesturing to the crowd of party-goers. “I just finished helping the people here- we should take them to the Defender’s heart.”

“I still need to find a priest- could you manage taking them back there with Camilla on your own? And Ember can go with you, if she wants.”

“I’m fine with you.” Ember smiled brightly. “You’ll need me more.”

“Alright. You can also go with Seelah Count. The Defender’s Heart is under the protection of Irabeth Tirabade and the Eagle Watch so you’ll be fine there.” Camilla sourely eyed Yunessa, but her disposition seemed to brighten as one of the young men addressed her in the crowd.

“I thank you for the invitation. But I’m not quite as desperate as I may seem. It is better, at times, to be surrounded by the repugnant mugs of demons than the sour and dour physiognomies of Iomedae’s righteous paladins.” He wagged a finger at Yunessa but he was side-eyeing Seelah, who raised her shield with a flourish, looking at the surface as though it were a mirror.

“What about mine? I see it now. Soon it’ll be sour enough for his Lordship- another few minutes with the dazzling Count and it’ll sour like week-old milk. Just wait for it.”

“What’s this? A paladin with a sense of humour to go with their beauty? You’re a veritable walking scandal.” He tapped his lips. “Regardless, my mansion is as safe as it’ll ever be. I have a pair of half-decent guards. I just need to grab them out of the storeroom and bring them to their senses.-” His face was bright but his eyes still held the edge of fatigue. “I had them drink a love potion you see, for reasons that were extremely witty at the time and in the state of inebriation I found myself in. They can go with your friends to escort the guests and help the valiant paladins at the inn by beating back the demons.” He turned to look at the light that spilled through his windows. The ugly fire light reaching hungrily over the floor as if desiring the mansion too. “They will, won’t they?”

“They’ll try, We will too.” But something in that made Yunesssa desire to expound on the answer. “There’s no way out. So the best thing we can do is to hold on until then or to wipe them out. As unlikely as it might seem. We’re doing quite well so far.”

The count was silent. “ For myself, I feel like stretching my legs.I know rudimentary divine spells, am an excellent healer and no friend to demons. I also elevate any society I deign to grace with my presence. I shall accompany you- only for a short time of course. I have no desire to remain at the vanguard for a protracted period of time.” The look he gave Yunessa had them briefly choke. “What do you say my ephemeral but highley diverting acquaintance? LordDeskri spoiled my party. I now want to spoil his and I am-” His eyes focused on Yunessa for too long. “Quite interested in spoiling his.” He was striking to look at, Yuness realised, like the sunset.

“I don’t like this guy. There’s something off about him. Not evil but dark.”

“He’s got all these friends here but he’s so lonely! We can take him with us, right? Maybe it’ll make him feel better?” Ember, smoothed down the velvet curtain she wore, looking thoughtful. “He likes us.”

“I guess thumping with him the next time he comes out with his fancy aristocratic weapons is not allowed? All the more reason he should stay with us- if the demons don’t get him then the paladins at the inn surely will.” Lann flashed a cocky smile, making a gesture that saw Woljif snickering.

“Aasimar are like going for night time strolls with a diamond tiara on their head. I don’t like that kind of attention.”

It took Yunessa a moment to realise they were waiting on their response.”Oh- yes.” The count cocked a brow and Yunessa felt their face start to flush. “It’s rare to see someone weaponize their appearance so well, Count. But yes, you can come with us.”

“Capital.” He smiled and the air around him seemed to brighten. “I will go retrieve my weapons- I’ve no idea why my squire is slacking off. “ As he breezed past Yunessa, they caught the smell of mountain herbs. “Acquaintances that begin and end at the right moment leave the most pleasant memories, wouldn't you say?”

“-The Defender’s Heart Inn, yes. Go with Seelah, Camilla, Larian, and Jertriv.” Yunessa gestured to the musician who still frowned.

“What good will it do me if these crusaders couldn’t keep the people safe in their own homes?”

“It’ll keep you alive at the least. Everyone else is going.” Seelah had taken charge at Yunessa’s agreement and the others were gathering up, “At any rate- harp mistress!” Yunessa strode over to the one woman who had yet to join the others. The harpist had reluctantly stayed on the stage as the party-goers began to assemble into a crowd at Seelah’s urging.

The harpist looked up. She had been working to repair the small harp she was holding. “I should thank you stranger.” Her harp had an intricate pattern of stars, moons, and butterflies- hallmarks of the Goddess Desna. “It’s hard to find others who share the faith so able to stand up.”

“Well, my lute isn’t so lovely as yours. But I am always happy to meet another bard of Desna. We’re more rare than it seems we should be.”

The harpist grinned. “Yours is lovely- I’m Aranka. I only just arrived in Kenabres recently. I was touring Mendev and beyond to perform for my devoted fans.

“You picked a good house to be in for the moment- everywhere else is in less intact of a condition right now. Has the Count been a good host?” Yunessa heard Ember before they realized she was there, resting their hand atop Ember’s head.

“The count?” Aranka’s eyes looked wary but when she spotted Yunessa’s marks of Desna on the box lute they had. “I’ve wanted to smash a jug over his head five times today.” She lowered her voice. “He brings that feeling out in people, it’s one of his many talents. Other than that… well you’ve probably heard all about the Arendae family already.”

Whoever the Count was, infamous was likely a polite word if Yunessa was being warned about it within minutes of meeting him. But Yunessa just smiled as Aranka continued.

“The count’s servants flee this place like rats from a sinking ship. No one ever stays here long, even though he pays them absurdly well. I heard one of the servants complains they were always feeling like they were being watched. Like there were unseen eyes staring at the back of his head.” She pursed her painted lips. “I don’t know if those are real or not, mind you- just what I've heard and want to share with a fellow worshipper of Desna.”

“People on the street say that too.” Woljif’s tail moved back and forth in its wary pattern. “This is the best bird in the whole city, but all the thieves are afraid to try and steal a feather!”

“I do love people talking as though I’m not on the premises.” Daeran spoke behind them. “Excellent- like any polite host I shall return the favour and act as if none of you are here either.”

“Are you a bard too? I love music. Can you play a song?” Ember gave Aranka wide eyes and the woman looked at Yunessa.

“I’m afraid now isn;t the time for a long sweeping epic.” She began apologetically.

“Something short while they're working to get the guests together, surely.” Yunessa’s hand came back covered in ashes despite Ember’s hair looking clean. “Demons aren’t the best audience and I’m sure the guests couldn’t fully appreciate your voice either.”

Aranka’s eyes lit up. “Performing for either can be unpleasant but today I was at my best.”

“You didn’t hear me sing when we fought?”

“I detect a challenge in your words.” Her fingers brushed against the string of her harp, not quite plucking at it but Yunessa’s ears caught the faint sound it produced.

“Well, I wouldn't normally but I feel I did quite well today and that should be acknowledged.” Yunessa murmured. “After all if we don’t acknowledge my skill then all I have are my looks- not much, I’ll admit.”

Aranka chuckled. “What else would two bard do meeting amid the ruins-”

“Ruins? My house was quite intact.”

“-in the aftermath of a demon attack? Of course they should find out who is more talented and whose songs are more inspiring!” She looked at her harp, picking it up and resting her fingers over the strings.

“I don’t see why not. It’s a matter of skill after all.” Yunessa didn’t reach for their lute, but their fingers stilled in the middle of smoothing down Ember’s hair. “Such things should be settled professionally among bards.”

“Yes! Let’s have a challenge then. Come on, join in!” Aranka began to pluck at her harp, letting the warm notes fill the air. She started to sing, a verse to a simple song often enjoyed by hard workers at an inn. “O day of hardship, your frigid embrace is warmed with song and lifted from this place!” The song was awkward without the right music but her voice gave it an undeniable lighthearted charm.

But Yunessa had learned from a master and when it was their turn they let their voice rise high, following the notes of Aranka’s harp. An intoxicating charm produced from the depths of their soul, the words of a love ballard came forth to charm those listening. “Oh, precious hear, you quiver, with hope and jubilation. From death itself I have delivered, this wonderful creation!”

Aranka paused during the song at Yunessa’s words, caught by the emotion and pulled from her song. Delighted, she clapped her hands. “Wonderful, you outmatched me! I’ll admit it. As an honest bard I owe you a reward for winning this contest! Hmm….”

“The lines about delivering the wonderful creation from death were about me, of course! Don;t deny it.” Daeran had given up on ignoring them, it seemed, to chime in. He’d returned with a crossbow and a pack on his back.

The squire, Yunessa belatedly realized, had yet to be seen since they had entered. The half elf had surely run off, if not hidden somewhere safe in the manse.

“I actually do need something. You were here long before I was. Would you happen to know where I can find a priest- any priest- the Defender’s Inn only had two and they were too weary for what I needed.”

Aranka paused at those words. “What did you need one for?” Her tone was carefully guarded.

“To help alleviate a condition I have. Without it I’ll soon get quite sick. But if they are willing to bless me then it will hold off for a time.” Yunessa answered honestly. “And right now I can’t afford to fall ill. Not when there is so much that needs to be done and so many that require aid.”

“You don’t look so ill.”

“It is a complicated illness to explain. But there’s very little that alleviates it and I’ve found very few who are willing- I don’t even know a priest of Desna in the city or I would have tried to seek them out.”

Aranka stared at Yunessa for a long moment before she nodded slowly. “If you weren’t a worshipper of Desna then you wouldn’t have done this or walked around so easily. I can take you to the temple of Desna if you’re able to keep the demons away from me.” She flashed Yunessa an apologetic half-smile. “I need to see if any of my brothers in the faith are still around as well.”

Yunessa felt the enchanted bracelet Anevia gave them, finding it cold and still. They weren’t needed just yet. Somehow that thought made Yunessa relax ever so slightly in relief.

“That, we can do. But you must stay close to the group. I’ve seen things reach from the cracks and shadows of alleys to snatch at passers-by.” Yunessa kept their face from revealing to many details but Aranka swallowed and nodded, hugging her harp close.

“I can do that.” She promised. “I’ll lead you to the temple and stay close- just don’t let anything get to me.”

“Will you really be fine Seelah?”

“We’ll be fine. There’s three of us t keep them safe and the rest of them all of them are listening and sober. Once we get the guests back to the inn-” The crowd of party-goers were wide-eyed and silent. The rain had lessened to let the fires crackle, casting sickly lights over the group.

“We can make it to a priest.” Lann’s expression was reassuring. “We’re in the inner-city now and everyone said the temples are all connected to the inner city.”

“We’ll come back when we’re done to find you.” Seelah turned her head, listening. “If we stick to the same streets we used to get here then it’ll be a quick trip to the Defender’s Heart. As long as you’re sure the Count won’t get you in trouble…”

“He seems prepared.” Yunessa assured Seelah. And that was true enough. Daeran had returned with weapons and potions to boot, looking more fatigued. He’d told them a cultist had thrown a fire bomb through the windows. It seemed to quiet to be trued but watching the flame’s reach from the windows to caress the stones of Daeran’s home, it seemed like he wasn’t wrong. A corpse, clad in the red robes of the cultists still lay on the lawn with a crossbow’s bolt still stuck deeply in his back. “And if he wasn’t he’d be clinging to one of us.”

“Probably to you.” Lann muttered. “He looks the type.”

“The type?”

“You know, the kind that pretend they’re big and then when they realise demons are scary they go back to their houses and hide.”

“Well Daeran will shortly have no houses.” Yunessa kept their voice dry. “So it’s a good thing he isn’t upset by the loss of material possessions.”

Aranka, despite her earlier whispers of warning, stayed close to Daeran and Woljif, her blue eyes nervously scanning the streets around them.

The streets were quiet for once, no screams to be heard. The only sounds were from the rain and the fire. Like Camilla had said, alchemist’s fire was unphased by the rain, continuing on as if the rain didn’t exist.

If it wasn’t for the bodies then it would have been a scenic sort of scene. A ruined cityscape was the backdrop of several songs. An old sensation itched from the base of Yunessa’s spine, leaving a numbness behind it. The curse reminded them it was there and wouldn’t ever leave. Not until Yunessa was long dead, their personality and memories shredded without mercy.

“Stay safe Seelah.” Yunessa said finally, giving her a crisp nod. “Come back safely- it’s gotten far too quiet.”

“What’s the time Chief?”

“I don;t know Woljif.” Yunessa had started to grow tired of the question already. Woljif had asked it often at random intervals to be certain. But he hadn’t stopped asking and that agitated Yunessa like nails on a chalkboard. “It can’t be past… four? Three? I can’t tell with the clouds.”

“It’s twenty minutes after three.” Daeran said firmly.

“Three twenty then Woljif.”

“That’s cheating Chief- it’s okay anytime you don’t get caught.” They moved more silently without Seelah there. But Daeran’s familiarity with the streets, combined with Woljif and Ember, made it easier to manoeuvre around it all.

“I’m cursed.” Yunessa saw the question in Daeran’s eyes before he spoke up. “My sense of time is the first to go before I really go downhill. There’s more to it, but we should discuss it later if you’re still with us.” Yunessa smiled at Daeran. “I’d hate to see such lovely gold hair damaged by being in the vanguard.” It was true, Yunessa had seen aasimar rarely. But true metallic hair was always mesmerising.

Leading from the front helped Yunessa have far less distractions than they would have otherwise.

“Let’s go. I have… six? Five? A little bit of time before we have to return to the inn.”

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder #lann #seelah #woljif jefto #ember #camilla #daeran #mature #nonbinary main character #angst

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elizabethintheskywithdiamonds · 2 years

Text

Wieden

We were in the backseat

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rented a place on Wieden"

I said casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk

Filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head

Leading us to our home for the season

Windows flung right open, autumn air

Jacket around my shoulders is yours

We bless the rains on Wieden district

Memorize the creaks in the floor

Back when we were card sharks, playing games

I thought you were leading me on

But you held my hand on the street

Walked me back to that apartment

Years ago, we were barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings that once became my religion

"I rented a place on Wieden"

I said casually in the car

That night, I hoped I never lose you

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'll never walk Wieden again

I was mystified by how the city screams your name

I'll never land there again

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it-feels-legit · 4 years

Text

As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home Pt. 2.1

Okay. I know I said I would do each day as a part, AND technically I’m still doing that. I just realized that if I do one full day that would be a looooooong thing to read and it would take a lot of time to write as well. So now each part is split into different parts! Yay?

Kitty woke up with a start, which—when sleeping on a bench—is actually quite normal. She did her wake-up check of her surroundings (got to make sure she hasn’t been stolen from or assaulted). She carefully packed Wolfie in her bag, straightened out her clothes, ran her hand through her hair, and set out to the house. She checked her watch (which she had on before she was kicked out) and noted that it was around 7:30. That means that she’ll have to wait around for thirty minutes before the owner leaves.

Kitty arrived at the park entrance near the house. She decided it would be best to hide behind the fence so the owner wouldn’t see her. She sat down with her back to the fence. She put her head in her hands and sighed. She was going to jail, wasn’t she? At least jail had food and a bed. Then again, jail also means being around actual dangerous criminals. She’d more likely run into trouble there than on a park bench.

Kitty was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of a car starting. She peeked over the fence and saw the owner get into her car. She drove off, and Kitty stood up, looked around for witnesses, and ran to the house. She tried the front door, but it was locked. She moved around the house to try the back door. The door could open.

Kitty opened the door slightly and peeked in. The house was quite nice, with a modern selection of furniture and several paintings. She opened the door wider and carefully stepped inside. She knew no one was there, of course, but she figured that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Alright. Just need some food and maybe a bit of cash.

Kitty looked around for the kitchen and quickly found it. The house had an open-floor plan that made it easy to see multiple rooms at once. She headed towards the kitchen, which had white walls and marble countertops, and put her bag down on one of the counters. She opened and scanned some of the hanging cupboards for food. The fridge would’ve been the most obvious choice for food, but she had nowhere to store cold stuffs.

After a awhile, Kitty managed to find the pantry. Now she needed to figure out what exactly to take.

I should’ve thought about this earlier. Let’s see... no bread, that can get moldy quickly. Nothing nearly expired. Um... maybe I should grab a can opener?

Kitty jumped when she heard keys rattling in the front door. The owner never comes home right after she leaves! Kitty glances around for a hiding spot. She notices a space between the fridge and the wall that she could squeeze in.

#as if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home #katherine howard #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #catherine of aragon #catherine parr #jane seymour #six fanfic #six fanfiction #six fandom #six the musical #six queens

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hoediaz · 2 years

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time to start pushing my buddie cornelia street (live from paris) agenda

#AS IF THE STREET LIGHTS POINTED IN AN ARROW HEAD LEADING US WHERE? HOME.#i'll never walk (the street where eddie got shot) again <3 #txt #just like i'm very specifically a state of grace (acoustic) buddie truther #i'm very specifically cornelia street (live from paris) truther

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kookieskiwi · 3 years

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𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader x Suguru Niragi

Summary: The borderlands were already dark, they made you numb to death so long as you survived. When you become the object of desire for two psychopathic and sociopathic men, one of which is your ex lover, you find it harder to drown out the emotions you’re feeling and demons you're facing. Do you give into the dark desires and madness? But...aren’t we all already mad here?

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual situations, murder, death, manipulation, psychoanalyses, drugs, alcohol, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, more to be added as I write.

Genre: Alice in Borderland, very dark romance, angst, smut, a little fluff if you squint

Rating: Whoever is mature enough to handle the warnings above but recommended to ages 15 and older. DO NOT read if you are triggered by any of the things listed above.

Word Count: 5k

[Taglist] @bonnyskies @mylifeisafxingmess @kasaikawa @mercipourleslivres @dragoneye01 @bubb1ee-gum@nocturne181 @somegirl29 @pajerita19 @ddaenysus @imagine-t-h-a-ttt @queentorresstuff @rebirth-of-destruction @celestiacq @ryreads @beeissleepy

A note from your author — I’m so sorry this took so long, I just got out for summer vacation after an extremely stressful year so I’ll be way more active now. I have decided (with much hype from @imagine-t-h-a-ttt ) to post this in parts so I could give y’all something in appreciation for dealing with me. Expect more soon!! (It might not be AiB exclusively but I will be writing more)

The borderlands was a place where anyone and everyone was alone for themselves when it came to survival. “It’s every man for themselves,” you’d often tell yourself after a game since you walked away, sometimes alone, and others didn’t. After participating in your first heart’s game you learned that, and it was forever engraved into your mind. When you were cruelly taken from the real world you were alone in your room after your nightly shift as an SDF officer. All of a sudden the lights went out whilst you were changing out of your uniform before a shower which you never got to take. Deciding to investigate the outage, you threw your uniform back on and unbuttoned the jacket revealing your black sleeveless undershirt while keeping your green cargo style uniform pants and combat boots on. After grabbing your knife and placing it into your thigh holster, you explored your neighborhood to find that everyone was gone, cars were randomly in the street as if they had been stopped out of nowhere, and you were in fact alone.

“What the fuck is this?” You whispered to yourself as you were pulling out your phone to contact your friends only to see that it was dead. “Fantastic,” you grumbled, rolling your neck to the side to crack it and relieve the tension. Venturing back to your home you thought over what this could possibly be; an evacuation drill? Maybe a nightmare? Were you daydreaming again? No, this was too real and too strange to be any of those things. You needed to get out of this area, inspect and observe other parts of Tokyo to see what was going on. You thought you could find answers before it turned dark since it was only morning so you rushed home to pack a few things before heading out.

While at home, you grabbed your backpack and in it you put; a change of clothes, three water bottles, pain pills and a few snacks as well as your phone and charger in case you could figure out a way for it to work. In a haste you also threw on your side holster which held your nine millimeter handgun and two packs of ammo for extra precautions. After that, you set out on your search of the city. The first thing you thought of was to get in one of those abandoned vehicles however even though they were full of fuel, they wouldn’t start. “So phones and vehicles don’t work, neither does anything powered by electricity. Great.”

With that newly found information, you stepped out of the vehicle and began the long walk across Tokyo. Along the way you inspected stores, homes and even government buildings but found no trace of anyone but yourself. Where did everyone go? It looked so desolate without the constant buzz of people around walking, the tourists, the neon billboards. Everything was...dead. You spent the entire day walking further into the abandoned city which was once lively yet found nothing other than a restaurant with food which you took the liberty to eat at.

Upon nightfall, you were looking for a place to stay when a billboard lit up drawing your attention to it immediately. “This way to the game arena,” it read with an arrow pointing to the left. Turning your head in that direction you saw an area in the distance brightened by lights while everything else was still surrounded in darkness. “Game arena?” You whispered in confusion. Looking around at your surroundings you didn’t see any other lights other than that building which looked to be about three blocks away. You followed the arrows leading you to the designated arena which looked to be a botanical tea garden from a distance. You slowly approached the building while keeping your hand close to the blade strapped on your thigh in case someone or something appeared. As soon as you stepped across the final set of stairs leading up to the entrance, a line of red lasers appeared and quickly turned blue when a sound similar to that of a confirmation resonated in the area. “What is this?”

“It’s the threshold of the arena.” Turning in the direction of the voice, you saw a familiar face step next to you with the same sound chiming at her entry. “Holyn? How did you get here? Are you okay?” You asked quickly before hugging her out of relife, you were more than happy to see a familiar face in this apocalyptic place. She was your childhood best friend, the only reason you hadn’t seen or heard from her in a while was because of both of your working lives.She hugged you back even tighter as she was feeling the same way you were, scared, alone and confused. When the two of you released each other she began explaining everything she knew to you as the both of you started walking into the garden.

“I got here a few days ago and since then, I’ve asked around to see what others know about whatever the hell is going on. No one knows how we got here or what exactly this place is but everyone is made to participate in games of survival. You must participate or you’ll die. After winning a game, you keep the phone you had and you’ll be supplied with a visa. The visa tells you how long you have until you’re out of time here which is why you have to participate in games to renew it before it runs out. You must win each game, there is no other way to survive if you don’t. Do everything it takes so you live and move on. Anything with an electric circuit board or IC chip does not work whereas analog equipment like radios work and so do older vehicles.” She explained quickly as more people came into view. Your mind fogged with all of the new information, it was so much to take in. Then you realized you were just thrown into a game of survival and like she said; you HAD to win to survive. “But-” you had just begun when she silenced you, “pretend you’ve been here and done this. I know you’re confused and probably scared shitless but just pretend.” She instructed as you both entered the arena and quickly added one thing, “I don’t want to continue playing after this, I killed someone Y/n.” But before you could respond she shook her head and you did as she said, silencing yourself and putting on the facade you had mastered over the years.

Upon entry, you almost immediately noticed the two groups of people to the right each containing about six people and consisting of both males and females and the other group of six men. Gauging their distance to and from each other you could conclude the individuals in each group had played together previously and probably had strategies to compete with. As you and Holyn approached the area the others stood around, you glanced down to the table in front of all of you. ‘One per person’ the sign read with approximately twenty phones laid out beside it. Each of you grabbed a random phone and stepped away from the table into your own spaces, you and Holyn sticking closely together. If everything with a circuit board was destroyed, then why did these phones work? In the middle of your questioning the phone screen lit up with the text ‘facial recognition in progress’ before switching to another screen as you looked at the others subtly to see they were looking around as well.

“Registration has closed,” the phone chimed causing each of you to glance down at the small screen. “There are twenty participants. Game: Queen of cards.”

“Rules,” the automated voice said, “After putting on the designated collars you will be divided into two teams, one team will be the Jacks while the other is the Queen of Hearts. Find the Queen of Hearts, take her phone and find the safe zone. If the Queen is not found, it is game over for the Jacks. If the Queen is found, it is game over for her.”

“Does this mean it’s one girl against the rest of us?” Holyn asked with a small crack in her voice, making hit her as a sign to be quiet and do exactly what she told you to do. The two of you grabbed the collars they had laid out on the table, placing them on your neck after close inspection. You needed to seem like you had done this before, the last thing you needed was to be seen as the weaklings or newbies. “It’s a Hearts game, of course that’s what it means. We are supposed to turn on each other and play with others minds. It makes sense.” A male with his arms crossed over his chest said. He had played before, you could tell. The group of men he came with looked like they had been here for a while based on their appearance and calmness towards the situation.

“What do you mean ‘It’s a heart's game’?” A girl who looked to be about seventeen asked. It was obvious she was new to this like you, however, you weren’t letting anyone know that. “When you see the game card, you know the type of game and the difficulty of it. Heart games are those of psychological torture and betrayal where you mess with your opponents or friends minds and emotions. Diamond games are ones of minds and intelligence, often including solving riddles or puzzles. Clubs are by far the safest there is given they are teamwork and unity games. Spade games are physical, they test your stamina and endurance. The number of the cards tell you the difficulty levels; one being the easiest and ten being the hardest.” Another man explained to the girls. You listened attentively while looking down at your phone noticing this was a six of hearts game. Hearts. There had to be a way to do this without betrayal. But before you could think of anything further you were interrupted by the phone which spoke once more.

“The Queen will have one minute to hide before Jack's time starts, but she wont know she is the Queen until Jack's time begins.” The feminine AI voice instructed once more. The girls were to be hunted by the boys and even if they weren’t the Queen the males wouldn’t know. Even if it was a best friend. You noticed when the others came to the same realization as you as one guy started profusely apologizing to a girl who was shaking. This is a game of survival. “So that means-”

“You girls better run.” It came from one of the men and said with a sinister smirk. All the guys had to do to ensure survival was take our phones and get to the undisclosed safezone. However this was more than that. You saw the weapons on a board in the distance and you knew you weren’t the only one who did. Without a second thought, you grabbed Holyn’s hand and ran as fast as you could to get the farthest from any other person, vividly aware of the knife you still had on your thigh. She quickly followed behind although she didn’t have much of a choice with your iron-like grip on her wrist. After running a sufficient distance from the others you ducked into the shrubbery and crawled towards a dark corner to hide from anyone’s sight. She sat across from you as you both tried to calm your breathing while keeping yourselves hidden from anyone who might pass by. The phone chimed again, “Hiding time is up,” the voice said while a new timer appeared on your phone. “Ten minutes,” it read. An alarm sounded throughout the arena echoing off the walls of the indoor tea garden. “The game will now commence,” you heard just before seeing your screen turn balck temporarily with your role on it.

“Thank goodness, I’m a Jack. You are too right?” Holyn asked as you turned off your phone and looked at her with a smile as her voice echoed in your mind, “you must win each game, there’s no other way to survive,” so you pushed away the dread in your chest and replied “me too.”

No. You were the Queen.

The two of you sat still for about five minutes listening to the shouts and screams of the others until you heard sets of footsteps coming in your direction causing the two of you to duck down onto your stomachs out of fear. In the distance you heard a feminine scream echo off the glass walls followed by shattering sounds and more screams of “I’m not her” or “It’s not me” followed by the sounds of struggles. “Come out come out wherever you are,” one of the men closer to you called. You could tell he was near and if you two didn’t move, he'd find you.”We found the safe zone but none of the girls were queens,” you heard one say, “damnit, if they were still alive they could help us,’ the other commented making your stomach drop. “We need to run,” who whispered to Holyn knowing those men would have no issue killing you to survive. “Three minutes remaining,” the time was announced but you could hardly hear it due to your pulse thudding in your ears.

“Now,” you called quietly queuing the both of you to jump up and run, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the men. “There they are!” One shouted followed by the heavy stomps of footsteps behind you as they set in on the chase. “It’s only the two of you, just give us the phone and you’ll live.” You ignored him and kept sprinting towards the place you knew there were weapons. Without another thought you grabbed two weapons and handed one to Holyn to defend yourselves with until she came to the realization you loathed. “You’ve been the queen this entire time!?” She shouted at you as the stomping sound got closer and closer. “I’m sorry! You said to do anything it takes to survive.” You responded with tears clouding your vision. Never in your life would you have thought you’d be choosing your life over your best friend’s, not when the two of you had gone through everything together. “Two minutes remaining,” the voice announced reminding you of your impending fate. Holyn looked at you with emotions you couldn’t decipher, but you saw the way she relaxed even if it was slight. Why was she glad you chose yourself over her?

“Come on, let’s hide.” She said grabbing your hand and this time, she was the one dragging you along. She veered off to the right pulling you behind a fountain and kept running until the two of you collapsed onto the ground. “Remember when you turned fifteen and we decided to sneak out?” she reminisced laying between your legs against your chest. “Yeah, our parents almost killed us, we were grounded for months.” you giggled despite the tears falling from your eyes. As memories of you both flooded your mind you acted without control and shouted, “Over he--” to let the men know your location but you were interrupted by her hand clasping over your mouth tightly to silence you as she yanked you backwards into the shadows. “Shh,” she whispered, calming you while you sobbed into her hand, “I want you to live on for me, okay? Beat this game, we both know you are the only one who can. I know you can. I’ll be helping you from above if I can.” She soothed laying her head on top of yours.

“One minute remaining”

The tears wouldn’t stop as you moved to hug her tightly, never wanting to let go. “I’m so sorry.” you choked out in between gasps for air. Everything was too much, too loud, time was moving too quickly, you heard the men rapidly shouting and searching for you two as you clung to your best friend. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly, the seconds flew by while you were holding the only person you had left before she was to die. “I’m not. Thank you Y/n, I wouldn’t have made it any further anyways, I’m glad I can help you move forward. Don’t let me die in vain.” She told you kissing the top of your head before roughly pushing you off to get you away from her. “Holyn!” You shouted trying to latch back onto her when suddenly the collar around her neck exploded and her blood splattered everywhere. Your eyes and mouth opened wide in shock at what you had just seen. You could feel the specks of blood all over your face and body while you stared at her now decapitated one lying in front of you. She had just died, and it was because of you, because you were selfish and confused all while being scared.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there in total silence until you just collapsed onto the cold, hard floor beneath your feet. The silence was interrupted by your blood curdling scream of pure agony that echoed throughout the enclosed building. Your head came into contact with the ground when you curled over your knees and screamed once again while grabbing at your hair and banging your forehead against the cement. Tears flowed out of both your eyes as you cried out in horror, unable to rid your mind of the events that just occurred. You screamed until your throat was raw and your voice hoarse, you could feel the clumps of hair you pulled out of your scalp as your fingers dug deeper into your skull and worst of all, you knew you were alone now.

For days, you were numb. Five days to be exact. You didn’t do much but sleep, cry, eat, walk aimlessly to a new location and then repeat it all again the next day. You couldn’t shake the immense feeling of guilt you felt when you woke each morning knowing Holyn wouldn’t because of you. It wasn’t until you played your next game, an eight of spades, that you snapped out of the haze your emotions put you in. During the game, you had to climb a tree fast enough to avoid the arrows being shot at you from below as the height the arrows were shot increased each minute as you ascended the tree. You were ahead of the others until one man decided to start pulling at your ankles to hold you back which eventually turned into him trying to make you lose your grip and fall. In the moment he yanked your body down, you almost completely lost your grip on the branch keeping you from falling. It was then that you realized you weren’t going to let Holyn die in vain, you’d survive and push through everything to honor her memory.

After that, the “acquaintances” you made between or during games never meant much to you because in the end, you could only count on and rely on yourself to ensure your survival. You stopped moping around and became the version of yourself you had always wanted to become, the one that allowed you to turn off your emotions and step away from your chaotic thoughts. You now lived for yourself and yourself only, but even then, you never killed anyone intentionally.

A few days passed by but you couldn’t tell exactly how long you had been in this hell hole. You only played games when it was necessary which was only about two days before your visa expired. After overhearing someone in a two of Spades game talk about a place called “the Beach” and the people there “knowing how to get out here,” you started observing those who played games when you didn’t. It only took a few nights to see the connection between the group of people who entered games with tag numbers on their wrists being the ones who walked out. After you played a couple games with people with the tags on their wrists, you were convinced they knew something about the strategy of the games. Lingering in the shadows, you watched the participants of the game walk out of the arena and head down the street while you quietly followed behind. You must’ve walked for five minutes before you noticed where exactly the group was headed; a vehicle. “But I thought..” you whispered to yourself in confusion seeing them jump into the four seater 1970 cadillac while you stood still in your hidden position wondering what they were doing. Upon hearing the ignition of the engine you remembered Holyn telling you only older modeled vehicles were able to work here, but where did they find fuel? Not once had you seen an operable fuel station. “There must be fuel at the beach, there has to be,” you thought to yourself, watching as they drove off which only made you more determined to find this place and get the answers to your questions. And with that thought in mind, you set out on a journey to find this so-called “beach.”

As the vehicle drove further from your sight, you started jogging in order to tail them to their location while still keeping yourself out of sight. You ran for around fifteen minutes before you saw a building in the distance, a building which had power unlike everything else in the city. Seeing the destination, you stopped running and took a while to slow your breathing and regain your energy. “So this is the Beach,” you sighed observing the structure and its surroundings. The building itself seemed to be four stories tall and included a large pool in front where people partied as if they weren’t fighting for their lives everyday. You approached a fence which seemed to outline the perimeter of the area and carefully leaned over it as if you were watching a child’s game. You saw the vast amounts of people give into the pleasures of ignorance while deafening music thrummed in the background, even from the great distance you were, you could slightly feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest.

“Ah who's this?” you heard a cynical voice ask rhetorically from behind you. At the sudden and unexpected presence you jumped, turning around and swinging your fist to punch whoever it was out of instinct. When your right hand came in contact with a face your left twisted to grab the knife you still carried on your thigh in a holster. Just as you grasped ahold of the handle one of the two people delivered a knockout-blow to the side of your head just behind your temple which caused you to instantly lose consciousness.

When you awoke you were sitting in a chair with your hands tied loosely behind your back onto the chair with what felt like a burlap bag over your head. You let out a small groan of discomfort feeling your head pulse due to your new injury, one you would have to repay later on. Upon hearing your groan, the bag was swiftly removed from your head allowing the bright lights of the room to flood your vision which hadn’t adjusted making you shut your eyes with a silent wince. After blinking a few times you get adjusted, you were finally able to scan your surroundings. In front of you stood a man with shoulder-length hair, blsck sunglasses, an open kimono and red swim trunks, to his left stood a man with buzzed hair, a black muscle shirt and green military pants who you instantly recognized.

“Aguni?” You asked with confusion seeing the man you used to work with. He was here too? You weren’t surprised he was still alive, the man was invincible when you worked with him. And just like back then, he was silent, he only gave a small nod of his head to you as a response before reassuming his statue-like stance. To his right was a man with silver hair, a white Nike hoodie and blue swim shorts who looked at you in an inquisitive manner with tired yet sharp eyes. Two women who had black hair were standing to his right and a man covered in tattoos stood further off to the side holding a sword long in length, possibly a katana. A few other people were staggered around the room but none of them seemed to be as ‘important’ as the few that you noticed immediately.

“Aguni-san? You know her?” The man in the kimono asked the latter with creased brows showing obvious confusion. “We worked at the SDF together. She was my partner before we were assigned to different segments, she’d be a good addition to the executives or militants.” He responded while putting in a good word for you. “Someone like her? An SDF officer? If you hadn’t told me, Aguni-san, I would have never known.” The man remarked crossing his arms over his chest while walking over to a desk which he leaned on. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned with a scowl in his direction as your fingers fiddled with the ropes binding your wrists. You would be able to get out of them in a matter of minutes if no one noticed what you were trying to do, but it seemed the man in the white hoodie already noticed as he raised his brow in your direction with an impressed smirk on his stoic face. “A pretty, small woman like yourself...I would’ve thought you’d be tagging along with someone and not alone. Actually I would’ve thought you’d be dead by now, much less an SDF officer.” He commented with a wry smile fanning out all your cards which contradicted his statement.

“If my cards tell you anything, you should know you’re wrong,” you hummed, resuming your attempt to loosen the ropes. “Ah yes your cards,” he began while pushing himself off the desk and slowly pacing around the room, “we want you to become a resident at the Beach after seeing the cards you’ve gathered. And after learning of your pastime, you would be a great addition to the team either way.” Of course he would want you once he saw the games you had played, you were good at surviving meaning you’d also be efficient in getting him the rest of the cards. “And if I don’t want to become a resident?” You questioned poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue out of habit. You were doing just fine on your own and definitely did not need this place, however, it seemed like they needed you. Or they needed your cards more so than yourself.

“Well if you choose to stay, you’ll be able to get out of this game quicker. We have a theory that once we collect all the playing cards, one person will be able to go back to the normal world. And if you choose not to stay, well, you can walk away from here but we will keep your cards. We have gathered all the weapons in the city, we regularly gather rain water and food which the game makers seem to replenish once a week, you’ll be taken care of here.” He explained pausing directly in front of you waiting for a response. Did no one else see the problem with him? How he was manipulating everyone to get the cards under the false security that they’d get to leave too? Or was everyone here really THAT ignorant? “It seems like you take my cards either way hm?” You suggested in a hum cocking your head to the right slightly in question. “You’re correct. However, now you would be higher in the rankings and an executive after making such a great contribution and having the skill set you supposedly possess.” He told you in an attempt to persuade you into staying while adding a bit of sweetness to the word ‘contribution’. When you simply looked at him with a bored gaze, he sighed and continued speaking.

“If you decide to stay there are only three rules. 1) "always wear a bathing suit". This is to be sure no one is hiding any weapons which is why our militants don’t have to wear them if chosen to do so. Rule 2) "be free to live your life exactly as you wish including alcohol, drugs and sex" and the third and last rule: "death to traitors".” He enlightened you on the standards they lived by to help you make your decision. It didn’t seem like it would be a bad choice if you chose to stay here, you’d have food, shelter, and people you didn’t know in case you had to play another game of hearts.

“I’ll stay but I want my knife back, if I have to wear a bathing suit you’ll be able to see it anytime since I wear it on my thigh.” You compromised whilst completely freeing your hands from their bound position but still holding the rope to hide suspicions. You hated the fact you’d have to wear a swimsuit because your scars would be visible but if it meant you could have your knife, you’d be more than willing. Hearing a few chuckles resonate around the room at your demand you brought your attention to one of the men in the back of the room who had a bandage on his cheek and a black eye. It was easy to come to the conclusion that he was the one you punched earlier, and the thought of that made you smile with pride while looking at him.

“You are in no position to make demands, sweetheart,” he practically snarled at you. You hated being called sweetheart, it not only made you cringe but it infuriated you beyond measure. With a deadly glare, you let go of the rope and stood from the chair in a swift motion and threw the ropes at him without a word which said everything you needed to. However, just as he caught the ropes you could hear the door being slammed open followed by a voice which was all too familiar.

“The traitors are dead,” the unknown man announced in a tone of pride, kicking the door closed behind him. His voice instantly brought back memory after memory causing you to turn your head in shock in order to make sure you were hearing things correctly. The man you were looking at looked nothing like the one you once knew. This one had piercings on his nose and eyebrow while he sported an automatic rifle on his shoulder and a psychotic smile on his face. “Niragi?” You whispered in shock, still unable to believe your eyes. Was this the same boy you stood up for in high school? He looked so....different. What exactly happened to the sweet, shy boy you once fell in love with? “Y/N?” He questioned letting his mouth fall open the slightest but before he regained his composure. It was him, Suguru Niragi, the first and only man you’ve ever truly fallen in love with, but also the man who disappeared without a trace three years ago. You knew he had left you, it wasn’t hard to figure that much out, but you never knew why and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. You had moved on.

“Fantastic! Another one of our own knows this charming young woman, this will make things a lot easier. Niragi, you may take her to the locker rooms so she can change into some fitting attire then you can get her an ID bracelet and take her to her room.” The man who you noticed had a bracelet tagged 001, exclaimed with a clap of his hands as he was instructing Niragi to get you settled in. “She can do it on her own,” Niragi scoffed with a roll of his eyes which had you throwing your head back in a sarcastic chuckle. “I’ll take her,” someone insisted from the side. Glancing in the direction the voice resounded you noticed the short pale man with the silver hair stepping out towards you. He seemed oddly familiar as well but you couldn’t quite place it.

“That’s settled then. Now, my knife?” You quipped raising a brow at the ‘leader’ in the kimono just before someone came from behind you pressing a cold piece of metal to your throat while their other arm was holding your arms in place by your waist. The room went silent as everyone watched what was about to unfold in front of them, Aguni simply rolled his eyes with a sigh knowing what was about to happen. “You mean this knife?” The man teased, his voice was one you recognized from one of the two men that brought you to this place and all you wanted in that moment was to stab him for that. So, naturally, you settled for the next best thing. Pushing your head forward a little while trying not to move your neck, you watched Niragi’s expression as you threw your head backwards with all your force resulting in hitting the unknown man’s nose.

When the back of your skull came into contact with his face he immediately lessened his grip on you which allowed you to slip out of his grasp and take your knife from his hand. With your knife in hand, you grabbed his wrist, twisting it and bending his arm behind his back while your other arm placed him in a chokehold. You leaned in close to his ear as he was fighting your hold before pulling him back harshly, putting pressure on his windpipe, “Never, and I mean NEVER, touch my knife again. Got it?” You growled and if you were being honest, you would’ve intimidated yourself. You didn’t wait for a response as you pushed him forward only to watch him fall onto the ground with a soft thud. “Now,” you sighed looking up with a smile which could’ve been seen as both innocent or sinister, “let’s go,” you said slipping your knife into the holster on your thigh. The man with the white hair stepped forward with his hands in his pockets and came to your side, briefly looking at Niragi before turning his attention to you. “Let’s go, shall we?”

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slasherstalkerxx · 2 years

Text

Don't Leave Me (pt. 2) - Michael Myers x gn! reader

hi guys ~ part 3 is coming today or tomorrow 🫀 this one's pretty long so it took a while to write. enjoy :)

•Michael's pov•

Flickering hallway lights and the sounds of passing attendees were the only noises I've heard 5 days a week for the past 15 years. Well- there's Loomis, but I'd rather listen to the schizophrenic down the hall ramble about the man who steals his pudding than sit through another session with the idiot. They used to keep me sedated with drugs most of my youth. Lately though, they've been using a straightjacket in the drugs place.

Sitting down my recently glued mask, I step towards the small window in my door. The first thing I notice are Halloween decorations. I love Halloween; thinking of the last one I celebrated, y/n comes to mind. Y/n- my y/n. It's about time I get out of this shit hole.

I remove my gaze from the decorations to the clock hanging on the wall. I've got about 10 minutes until Loomis comes to get me for our second weekly session. I can take him out, easy. He's like 60 and I'm me.

"Unlock the door please." Ah, my reoccurring headache has returned. The heavy metal door swings open, revealing the short man himself. "Good afternoon, Michael. Please give the guard your hands for the cuffs." The cuffs- flimsy double locked handcuffs that seem easy enough to break. I lift my arms towards the grotesque guard next to him. After the cuffs are locked, Loomis leads me down the corridor towards the therapy rooms.

As soon as we pass the double doors, the fire exit comes in sight. I break my cuffs over the first doorknob I see and grab Loomis. Holding him by his neck, I slam his head into the wall, knocking him out. His body falls to the floor and I walk out of the fire exit. Following the sidewalk, I see a supply truck in the loading area. As I reach the truck, I see that it's empty and the engine is still idling.

I open the door and climb inside. Driving can't be too hard, I've watched my mother drive before. Just press the pedal and point the steering thing. As I slam my foot on the petal, the truck lurches backwards. I slam my other foot on the stop petal. The gear shift next to the wheel shows a glowing "R". I change it to "D" and pressed the petal again. This time, the truck moves forward.

I hurry and pull out onto the road before the cops show up. A few miles down the road, the red hue from a truck stop gains my attention. I pull over at the stop and begin to look for clothes that will fit me. The door to the bathrooms open and out walks a large man in coveralls.

I follow the man to his truck. Before he climbs in, I grab him by the neck and twist- effectively breaking his neck. Stripping the man of the coveralls, I discard the thin dress-like outfit the sanitarium gives us. After putting on the now dead mans clothes, I climb back into the truck.

Heading towards the busy highway, I see a green sign with Haddonfield with an arrow pointing towards the side exit. The sign says 20 miles. 20 miles until I'm home. 20 miles until I can get my y/n. As the miles pass, I get more and more restless. Finally, the Haddonfield welcoming sign comes into view.

I ditch the truck near an older supply store on the main road. Making my way to the back, I smash the window and climb in. They have hammers, pocket knives, and even cement blocks, but no good stabbing knife. Guess I'll have to make due with the box cutters on the top shelf.

As I leave the store, I walk down the once familiar streets. Suddenly, I'm in front of my old home. Looking through the windows on the second floor, I see the glow of candles. Someone's in there.

I walk around back, towards the old shed in the yard. The door creaks open and I am met with cobwebs and floorboards sticking up. I make my way to the only board that isn't nailed down, and grab my old mask from inside. I slip on the white mask and turn towards the house.

The back door is unlocked, so i push it in. Upstairs, I hear people talking and walking around. I pull out the box cutters, making sure the blade is out. Slowly ascending the stairs, I prepare to kill whoever is in my house.

First, I check my parents old room. Nothing is in there besides the ragged bed that has to be at least 30 years old. Next, I make my way to Judith's room. There I see two teens making out on the bed. I grab the one closest to me and slit their throat. The second teen screams and tries to run past me, but I grab their hair and slam the cutters into their chest.

Dropping the bodies, I make my way to my room. Since it's almost sunrise, I'll wait until tomorrow night to find y/n. I suppose the cops know I've escaped by now and are looking for me.

•y/n's pov•

*beep, beep, beep*

I turn off the blaring alarm clock beside me sit up. As I walk downstairs, I see that I accidentally left the tv on the news last night. "Breaking news: Killer Michael Myers escaped from Smith's Grove Sanitarium last night, and has been known to kill at least two people since his escape."

Michael- I haven't heard that name in years. He was my best friend, but my parents wouldn't let me see him after he was taken away. They said he would kill me, but I always knew he wouldn't.

Part of me hopes he remembers who I am, but the other part is afraid that he remembers and is angry at me. I never left, hell I even bought the house down the street from the Myer house just to feel closer to him.

I turn from my tv and get ready for work. Working at a bakery means I get lots of cookies every night. It's definitely worth the 10 minute walk. Pulling on my jacket, I make my way outside. I lock the door behind me and begin my trip to work.

#michael myers #slashers x reader #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #michael myers fic #slasher x reader

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catboybinnie · 3 years

Photo

first date ━ seo changbin.

summary: part of the first date collection. on your way home from work, florist!reader notices changbin smoking a joint on his fire escape, and decides to ask for some. what ensues is an unexpected first date.

pairing | seo changbin x fem!reader

genre | alternate universe (non idol au), fluff & smut

wordcount | 4.7k

warnings | marijuana use, sex while under the influence of marijuana, oral (f receiving), nipple play, penetrative sex, protected sex

“Hi,” you call, tilting your head up towards the man on the fire escape twenty feet above you.

After a moment, he says, “hi,” back to you, but it sounds more like a question than a greeting. You can’t blame him. You probably wouldn’t talk to someone shouting to you from the sidewalk of your apartment either. He’s staring down at you, features fuzzy in the evening shadow, but your attention isn’t on his face, anyway.

“Can I hit that?” You gesture towards the joint in his hand. The siren call of weed makes you stupid.

The man doesn’t answer you. He sits up straight again, now out of your sight completely except for his feet dangling off the edge of the fire escape. A stream of smoke curls into the air from where you suspect his head is, and you wait a moment for a response before realizing, a little too late, exactly how stupid weed makes you. He’s not going to respond.

Just as you turn on your heel to continue your trek towards the subway station, his voice calls your attention back. You twist your neck around to look up at him, peering down at you from twenty feet above. “Can I make you a deal?”

“Sure,” you nod.

With an outstretched hand, joint resting between his index and middle fingers, acting like an arrow as he points towards the taco truck at the end of the block, he propositions you. “Grab me a number three from there and I’ll roll you your own.”

Well. Shit. That’s not the answer you were expecting, though you can’t say you were expecting an answer at all. It’s a fair deal. Whatever a number three costs is probably on par for a joint, anyway, so you shoot him a thumbs up and go get him a number three. You get yourself one, too, for the road.

Minutes later, he tells you to stand back so he can drop the ladder for you, so you do, and you wonder how the fuck you plan on climbing the fire escape with a burrito in each hand. He answers that for you by taking a couple steps down the ladder until his black vans are at eye level with you.

He’s a lot closer to you now than he was before, and a combination of shop lights, streetlights, and an apartment light leaking between curtains illuminate him. He looks around your age─ dark hair, dark eyes, intense, offset by fuller cheeks and plush lips.

One hand grasped around the rungs to hold himself up, the other hand stretched down towards you with a freshly-wrapped joint. You exchange one of the burritos for it, watching as he climbs back up the fire escape with a short thanks.

“Hi,” you call back up at him once he settles again.

“Hi,” he responds, setting the burrito down next to him as he goes to pull the ladder back up.

Weed makes you stupid, so before he can pull the ladder back up, you ask him, “can I come with you?”

“If you tell me your name,” he replies, so you do. He says it slowly, like he’s tasting it, and you like the way he says your name. If you had the ability to say someone’s name like it’s the most important word in the world, you’d probably abuse it for street burritos, too.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. Maybe you do have the ability to say names like that, maybe you don’t.

“Changbin,” he tells you, so you repeat it, and you try to say it like he did─ deliberately─ but you fuck that up completely. Sounds more like you’re teasing him for something, you sound like an asshole to your own ears, but he just grins down at you.

“Are you coming up?” He─ Changbin─ takes a bite from his burrito.

So you do.

xxx

Forty minutes later and your head’s heavy, but like the weight’s all cotton candy. It isn’t something that makes sense when you’re sober, but it does when you’re stoned out of your mind, so you tell Changbin that.

“My head’s full of cotton candy,” you state, plainly, sticking your thumb in your mouth to lap at the melted cheese that dripped out of your burrito.

“What color?” Changbin asks.

You hum, pondering for a moment as the two of you swing your legs over the fire escape, staring out into the city. You decide on, “blue, but baby blue, like… periwinkle,” and he laughs beside you.

He laughs nice. The thought makes you snort, and you turn to look at him just as he blows a cloud of smoke out and hides from your sight. It’s definitely the weed spinning the world more slowly but your ears cling to his laughter, replaying it like an echo. He laughs nice, and you need to let him know.

Before you get the chance, Changbin interrupts you to ask, “why are you hiding from me?” He swats at the air between you two where thick smoke streams from both of your joints coil together. He bats it all away and smiles at you, slow and lazy.

“I’m right here,” you reply.

He jerks his head in the direction of his apartment window. “Do you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

You crawl in the window after him, balancing the last bite of your burrito between your fingers like it's a precious gemstone, holding your joint between your lips and taking shallow tokes with each breath. Smoke spills from your nose and you feel like a dragon.

The window leads you directly into his kitchen. It’s almost entirely brick, with dark wooden countertops, black steel furniture, and high ceilings. Spacious─ this guy must have money─and leads into a larger living room with a massive black L-shaped couch, more brick walls, more wooden furniture, and a spiral staircase leading to a lofted bedroom.

“What do you do for work?” You ask.

“I’m a producer,” Changbin responds, now perched on his kitchen counter. He leans over to the ashtray at his right and puts the joint out in it, abandoning it altogether, before he leans back on his palms and tilts his head to keep looking at you. “I make music.”

“Anything I’ve heard?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks. “What about you?”

“I’m a florist,” you answer him, shoving the last of your burrito in your mouth.

You spend the next fifteen minutes like this, getting to know each other. It feels like longer, like fifteen years, because even though you put your joint out in the ashtray next to his, you’re still higher than the moon and time has long since stopped moving linearly.

Somehow, you wind up standing between his legs with your hands on his knees. You don’t remember getting this close.

“Do you normally follow random men up a fire escape?” Changbin teases you with that slow, lazy grin.

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”

“What made you follow me? Besides the weed,” he adds. “You’re not going to rob me, are you?”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you tell him. “If I tried to run right now, I’d fall over.”

“Is that why you’re holding on to me so tight?” Changbin slides his hands down his thighs until he reaches his knees with ease, but stops just short of your hands. His fingers barely brush yours, like he’s shy all of a sudden.

“Maybe,” you say, watching as your fingers tap up that inch of space and intertwine with his. Your head doesn’t feel heavy anymore, but the air around you does, like it’s charged with something volatile and massive where your skin meets his. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it. You wonder if you’re suddenly being weird. You wonder if Changbin is going to kick you out of his apartment, and if your roommates are still awake because you definitely left your keys at work.

He gasps, grips your fingers right back, and the tension breaks. His heels nudge the back of your legs and you take the hint, stepping closer between his legs until your hips hit the counter and your face is inches from his. Changbin’s eyes are bloodshot and red, glistening with the effort of keeping them open to stare into yours. His pupils flick down to your lips real fast, and you lean in a little closer. Just a little closer.

“Do you kiss on the first date?” You ask.

He smirks again, tongue poking out to wet his lips, eyes still flicking down to yours like he’s waiting for the right moment. “Oh, so this is a date? You ask every guy out on a date by smoking his weed and inviting yourself over?”

“You smoked me out and I bought you food, this is definitely a date,” you smile back at him.

“More like a sesh,” Changbin responds.

Before you get the chance to say anything else, he closes the gap between you two, pushing his lips against yours. He kisses like he smiles: slowly, lazily, like time doesn’t exist and all he plans on doing for the next millennia is this. Slots your lips together and sucks your top lip between his, slips his tongue into your mouth to taste yours, nips at your bottom lip and down your chin until he’s sucking a line of sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw. All the while, you’re standing between his legs with one hand on his knee, still intertwined with his, while your other arm wraps around his neck in an attempt to fill each other’s space up with your bodies completely.

Changbin’s teeth lightly scrape your neck and you gasp. “You make the sweetest little sounds for me, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

Your face flushes with the realization that you’ve been making noises this whole time. You rebel against this information by bringing your hand up to his face, guiding him back to your lips, taking a step back with each kiss so he follows after you. Changbin slides off the counter and crowds you into the corner of the kitchen’s entrance, capturing your lips again in the process. One of his hands grips your jaw, applying just enough pressure for you to open wider, giving his tongue better access to your mouth. His other hand reaches down to hook your leg up at the thigh, pushing his hips flush against yours and forcing you to wrap your leg around his waist for balance.

He tastes like weed and street tacos. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Changbin pulls his lips off of yours with a wet smack, nosing into your cheek to ask, “do you fuck on the first date?”

“So this is a date?” You grin. “Not just a sesh?”

It’s his turn to laugh now, mumbling for you to fuck off, before he gives you a series of languid kisses. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

You capture his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back towards you for more kisses. You pull apart just to nod and say, “then yeah, I fuck on the first date.”

xxx

The walk up the spiral staircase to his lofted bedroom takes a little longer than it should, with the two of you giggling and crawling up on your hands and knees the entire time. Once the two of you reach the loft, he ducks quickly to scoop you up into his arms and carry you over to the bed, smiling at you the entire time. It’s romantic until his knees hit the edge of the bed and his smile turns devious before he throws onto the mattress. You shriek, gripping at his black sheets, already pushing him away with your feet as he crawls toward you.

“Stop kicking, Y/N/,” Changbin laughs. In the small moment that you falter, too wrapped up in the way he says your name, like it’s the most important word in the world─

Changbin manages to grab your ankles and spread them apart, effectively stilling your kicks even as you persevere in your attacks, cursing him out while laughing.

“Do you ever worry that someone’s watching you through a telescope?” You ask, gesturing towards the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the loft. The back of his apartment provides you with a view of the rest of the city just beyond the river and the bridge that divide it.

“Not until now, no,” Changbin’s eyebrows furrow as he looks out at the city, and it’s obvious that he’s literally never even considered that. He sighs, then shrugs. “Well, at this point they’ve seen my dick from every angle, so what’s one more time.”

Before you push the subject further with something even more ridiculous, he slides up between your legs, forearms on either side of your head, and kisses you deep. Whatever it was that you were going to say dies on your tongue and disappears from your mind completely as your five senses are completely overwhelmed by Changbin.

The taste of his lips; the smell of marijuana mixing with his sheets; his fingers reaching down to skim your hip where your shirt’s riding up; the little sounds he’s somehow pulling out of you, like no one’s ever done before; he pulls back, and you open your eyes to take in his disheveled appearance, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen, and you think, proudly, I did that.

His fingers tug at your shirt, and you wordlessly reach down to pull it off. Changbin sits back on his heels, hands reaching down to run up and down your arms, your waist, the swell of your tits underneath your lace bra. He swallows, a small sound in the back of his throat, and his tongue pokes out again to wet his lips.

“You too,” you say, your voice breaking the spell he’s under, and he hastily pulls his own shirt off.

You sit up on your elbows, taking in the view of his bare skin; Changbin looks strong but still so soft, so you reach out to skim the pads of your fingers down his chest, down his abs, tracing the warmth of his skin and the vague line of his abs down to the waistband of his jeans. You hook your fingers in the band and look back up in time to see the way his throat bobs.

“Can I see?” You ask.

Changbin snorts. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Fuck you!”

“Isn’t that the point, too?” Changbin laughs, and dodges another kick you send his way.

“Shut up and take your pants off, Changbin!” You flop down onto your back, throwing your arm over your eyes and groaning just to be dramatic.

You hear him laugh again, more of a light, warm giggle, and then the sound of fabric rustling and metal unzipping. Moments later, he guides your arm away from your eyes and rolls his hips down into yours, kissing you again before you get a good look at the prize. You can certainly feel it, though, thick and heavy on your hip. Your heart stutters in your chest at its weight, and you’re suddenly very aware of the heat in between your legs.

“Why am I completely naked and all you’ve done is take your shirt off?” Changbin mumbles against your lips, squeezing one of your tits in his hand.

“Do something about it,” your voice is breathier than normal.

Changbin sits back again and you follow up on your elbows, finally getting a look at his cock springing up from between his thighs. Thick, long, and hard, and you bite your lip as you admire it.

Never in your life have you ever wanted a dick inside of you this badly.

“You’re drooling,” Changbin teases you, yanking your pants and your underwear down to your ankles. You kick around a bit until, with his help, you’re also (almost) entirely naked.

You sit up and reach for his cock, but Changbin backs away from your touch.

“Not until you take your bra off,” he says.

“Brat,” you roll your eyes but comply, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and pull it off your chest.

Changbin’s eyes are locked on your body, his gaze so intense that you start fidgeting beneath it. Your heart hammers in your chest. Any funny remark or weird comment you can make dies in your throat the second his hands travel up your legs, spreading them further the closer he gets to your pussy. Embarrassed, suddenly, you turn your head to stare out the window, fisting at the duvet beneath you.

“Hey, no, look at me,” you hear Changbin say before he grips your chin and turns you towards him. He swoops down to kiss you again (slowly, lazily) until you start making noises of contentment into his mouth.

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his fingers rubbing against your pussy, dipping between your folds, circling your clit, teasing your cunt as he smears your own slick around. Your hands instinctively come up to cradle his face and run through his hair, your lips chasing after his in a series of hot, open-mouth kisses.

Changbin breaks away first, sitting back on his heels again and pulling his fingers away from your pussy to hold in front of his face. He huffs out a laugh at the string of slick connecting his middle and index fingers, his eyes meeting yours. “Look how wet you are for me, Y/N.”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t fuck me already,” you growl, sitting up so you’re eye-to-eye with Changbin as you take his wrist and wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself.

His eyes glaze over and his mouth drops open watching as you suck his fingers dry. Slowly, you drag his fingers out of your mouth by his wrist, letting them catch on your lower lip and pull a little, before smearing spit down your chin.

“You’re trying to kill me now, holy shit,” Changbin babbles and lets his hand grab your neck, not choking you, but to steady you as he kisses you again. Despite the urgency in his voice, he manages to kiss you slow, again, like time means nothing.

He guides you down onto your back again, kissing you the whole way down, before his lips start making their way down your jaw, your neck, your body. Once he reaches your hips, he glances up at you, eyes glazed and hooded, so you can watch him kiss a trail from your hip to halfway up the inside of your thigh. His other hand pushes your other leg up, hooking your thigh over his shoulder so he can shimmy up closer to your leaking pussy. You’re so wet, so hot, for him that his breath fanning out over your core feels cold. It sends shivers up your spine.

Changbin licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, making your back arch as you push your hips up into him, a deep groan coming from him. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he moans.

You can do nothing but whine as he sucks on your clit, his tongue rapidly flicking across the sensitive nub. You push your hips up again for deeper friction only for Changbin to push you back down, his forearm pinning your hips in place as he continues eating you out.

And he’s fucking messy about it, too. Alternating between kitten licks at your hole, sucking kisses up your pussy, flattening his tongue to catch as much of you in his mouth and the rest dribbling down his chin to mix with his own saliva. His spits on your pussy a few times, his thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit while his tongue fucks your cunt. You’re babbling his name, begging for more, moaning and gasping and grabbing your own tits with your own hand while the other rakes through his hair.

Then, Changbin adds two fingers. You gasp at the sudden intrusion so he takes your clit between his lips again as he fucks you with his fingers. Your eyes are half-lidded in absolute pleasure, blinking blearily at him while he busies himself pushing saliva out of his mouth again, coating your pussy in a mix of slick and spit. The added wetness makes it easier for him to finger fuck you, makes it easier to curl his fingers into your walls just right and find the spot that has you moaning his name loudly enough for the entire city to hear.

Heat pools in the bottom of your stomach and before you know it, your back arches and your body stills as you cum. Changbin licks you all the way through it, his fingers pressing against that spot inside of you that exploded from his touch, until you release one final moan.

Chest heaving, you look down to see him sit up from between your legs, smiling, lips and chin wet with spit and your own slick. You haven’t managed to catch your voice back yet, so you beckon him over with a lazy twist of your fingers. He rolls his body down to meet you and you hold your face in his hands, kissing him deeply, still moaning a little bit into his mouth.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You murmur, dragging one knuckle down his spine.

He giggles against your mouth and ducks away from you, hiding his face in your neck. “The internet,” he replies.

“So are you going to fuck me now?” You ask, and smirk when he (with a swiftness) sits back and rifles through his bedside drawer.

Changbin pulls out a condom and a half empty bottle of lube, which you raise your eyebrows at. “Someone’s busy.”

“Fuck you,” he rolls his eyes but smirks, working at rolling the condom over his cock. “I’m a chronic masturbator.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but that’s actually the hottest thing in the world,” you reply, not even trying to hide the lust in your voice at the mental image of Changbin fucking his own fist in this very bed.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch sometime,” Changbin smirks again.

Before he can position himself, you roll over and push at his shoulders until he gets the hint to lie back in the spot you just vacated. “I’m going to ride you,” you tell him, swinging your leg over his hips until you’re straddling him, “until I physically can’t anymore. You deserve it for eating pussy like a champ.”

Changbin laughs, and it’s his turn to cover his face with his hands as a red flush spreads across his cheeks. You pry his hands away from his face, smiling as you plant kisses all over it (saving his lips for last) until you’re both laughing together. It’s sweet. It’s the best sex you’ve had in a while, and you don’t even have his dick in you yet.

Your fingers circle the base of his cock as you line yourself up with him. You look up to see his eyes staring as you lower yourself onto it, biting your lip through the stretch until you're fully seated. As soon as he bottoms out in you, Changbin groans, and his hands find your hips. After a few moments, once you get used to the stretch, you slowly begin to move. Your legs shake with the effort, your body still tired after your own orgasm and lazy from all the weed you smoked, but you manage to pick up a good pace. You roll your hips down as you fuck yourself on Changbin’s cock, relishing in the sensation of him throbbing inside of you, and butterflies erupt in your stomach once he starts moaning your name.

Absentmindedly, you press your hands down on his pecs and settle your weight into them for balance. Like the rest of him, they’re firm but soft, like he definitely works out and could probably deadlift you like it's nothing, but still soft enough to cuddle into for warmth. You quicken your pace a bit as heat starts pooling in your stomach again, his cock brushing that sensitive part inside your cunt that has you hurtling towards a second climax. One of your hands massages into his chest, your other hand tweaking at his nipples for something to do.

Changbin makes a strangled cry in his throat, like he’s trying not to let it out, as your fingers keep pinching at his nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers, while your hips circle an agonizing rhythm on his cock. Suddenly, his hands squeeze your hips to hold you in place while his hips buck up, burying his cock deep inside you as he cums with a loud groan.

Brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips red and kiss-swollen─ he is truly a sight to behold.

Even as he releases his death-grip on your hips, you don’t move to get up, opting to stare at the man beneath you as he slowly collects himself. Changbin notices you staring and the flush on his cheeks intensifies, his eyes suddenly looking anywhere but you.

“I─ sorry, that was… new for me.” He mutters sheepishly.

“Huh?” You tilt your head in confusion.

Changbin huffs in frustration, finally meeting your eyes. “I usually last longer than that, I mean. But, uh, the… you know.” He gestures between your hands and his chest, eyes shifty again.

Then it clicks for you. “Ooooooh,” you slap your hands down on his pecs, ignoring the squawk of surprise from Changbin, and press your tongue against the inside of your cheek to try and stop the spread of your smile. “The nipples! Was it the nipples?”

Changbin makes another sound in his throat, looking to his left and out at the city before he nods.

“Oh my god, you liked it!” You giggle with glee. You’ve never been with a man who liked his nipples played with, and if you have─ well, they certainly never let you know.

“Shut up about it,” Changbin mutters, crossing his arms over his chest to dislodge your hands.

You lean over, softly cradling his cheek in your hand as you guide him to look back at you. “I’m not making fun of you,” you reassure him with a kiss, “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Do you think you can cum without me ever touching your cock? Only your nipples?”

Changbin tries to hide his face again, but you gently take hold of his wrists and pin them to either side of his head. Instead of providing you with an answer, his eyes scan your face, like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he cranes his neck up to kiss you again (slow and lazy, just how you like it).

“Do you work tomorrow?” He asks after a while.

“No,” you answer.

He hugs you close to his chest, using the position to roll you both around until you’re on your back beneath him. Slowly, he finally pulls out of you, both of you hissing at the sensation after having been joined together for so long, and he ties the condom off and throws it in the little trash bin beside his bed.

“If you stay over, our first date doesn’t have to end,” Changbin says, casually, like it’s nothing, but there’s a lilt to his voice that makes you think he’s holding himself back.

“Are you not the type to fuck on the second date?” You challenge him. “Is that why you want our first date to last forever?”

Changbin laughs again─ warm, light; butterflies erupt in your stomach again─ and shakes his head, “Y/N.”

Your name sounds safe in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hands up over your head, and kisses you again. Says your name a few more times, like he knows it makes your heart race.

“What if I promise to cum from you playing with my nipples?” Changbin asks between kisses. “Will you stay?”

“Oh, fine, I guess,” you huff, being purposefully dramatic even though you made the decision not to leave this man the second your fingers brushed on the fire escape.

xxx

In the morning, Changbin keeps his promise, and cums untouched after mere minutes of you pinching and sucking at his nipples. He says your name again, just to get your attention, just so you can kiss him, and it sounds safe in his mouth.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fic #skz fic #changbin fic #collection: first date

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alicee1 · 3 years

Text

The compass

Technoblade x GN! Reader

Warnings: battles, some slight cursing, mention of skin reforming

Word count: 2.6K

Requested: no

Synopsis: The butcher army searches your home for the compass leading to Techno. When they find it you are put under house arrest and forced to meet up with your old companion under less than desirable conditions.

A/n: This is basically my take on the absolutely amazing animatic ‘Hog Hunt’ by Sad-ist.Also im working on a prison break Dream x sibling! reader oneshot, possibly two shot if it ends up really long. It’s taking longer than expected so i decided to finish this first.

Rules, Masterlist

You shouldn't have stayed. You made a stupid decision and now Techno would suffer for it. If only you had followed the warning bells in your head and ran while you could.

Even now, you barely remembered why you had decided to stay. Although it didn't matter, you had made a mistake and you couldn't make up for it.

They hadn't even knocked as they bursted into your home, absolutely destroying what little decor you had sat up. Luckily all valuable items were stuffed in your ender chest, placed neatly in the corner of your room.

Chest were thrown open, the small map of the area you possessed torn off the wall to look behind it, ripping it in the process.

At first you weren't sure what exactly they were looking for. It wasn't until you heard part of the conversation between Quakity and Tubbo that you realized they knew of the compass Techno had given you.

You stood powerless as they ransacked your home, searching through your chests books thrown off the bookshelves.

Tubbo moved upstairs, you considered taking a run for it to reach the object first, but for it to be safe you'd need to get it inside your ender chest, and you knew you couldn't make that.

It be worth a try however, you dashed past Quakity up the stairs, yanking the compass from the chest by the small chain attached to it.

You had pushed him to the side, forcing him to fall against your closet and onto the ground as you hurried past.

The other members of the butcher army stood waiting for you forever, although they were unsuspecting as you leapt over them from your position on the stairs.

A painful crack resounded from your shoulder as you broke your fall harshly when you rolled over the ground.

With your other hand you threw the glowing compass to the ender chest that opened on your command. It landed against the lid, making it fall close as you looked hopefully at the green object.

Your hand cradled your shoulder as the pain shot through your body, pulling a whimper from your throat.

The adrenaline numbed the pain as your eyes were glued to the chest that seemed to fall shut in slow motion.

A satisfied sigh left your mouth, at last you had been able to protect Techno in return of all he had done for you in the past.

That was until the black Netherite axe landed in the last millimeters the chest needed to close, preventing it from closing and shutting off the access to the insides.

A small smirk tugged on Tubbo's lips as he met your eyes, seeing the desperation on your face.

Using the axe to pull the ender chest back open, he yanked out the compass, disregarding anything else you had in the chest as it fell shut.

A crack had formed in the glass, the device slowly spinning from its chain as Tubbo dangled it in front of his face, looking at Quakity who had been the last downstairs after you shoved him against the closet in your room.

"Look what I've found, big Q." His eyes met yours, sinister as he looked at you on the ground, hand cradling your hurt shoulder although your eyes didn't leave the silver casing of the compass.

It slowly spun in the air, the letters engraved on the silver backing mocking you as you read those words a final time "find your way back to me". The letters elegant and painful as the compass wasn't in your hands anymore.

You didn't have to look to see the frustration and anger on Quakity's face morph into a look of wicked triumph. The butcher army approached, each wanting to take a look to see where the red pin of the compass pointed. The glow of the device confirmed its ability's, and they held it beside a different compass to make sure it worked.

Tubbo met your eyes as he saw the compass point at a different direction than north. A frown formed on his features as he looked at you, although it didn't do anything to hide the satisfaction in his eyes.

It was a poor play he put up despite everyone inside the room knowing better.

"Y/n, you'll be put under house arrest for refusing to comply with presidential orders." Your eyes narrowed at him, you knew that you couldn't take them on right now, not with the current state of your shoulder, or you would have. Any last ideas to stay neutral on this matter thrown out of the window.

Besides that, it wasn't even as if you could be neutral anymore, not now that they found Techno's compass in your house and how you had tried to hide it from them.

"You won't be able to keep me confined here Tubbo." Your words venomous as you spat them out, a sly smirk forming on his face as he looked to the side, facing a tall, lanky male, his form split in half between black and white.

He looked unsure as he moved, making you realize he had been the only one without a blood stained apron, the only one that hadn't touched any of your belongings and hadn't actively searched for the compass.

As he approached you, you could see an ankle monitor in his hands. You couldn't do anything but allow him to put it on, the male avoiding your furious gaze in the process as he stepped back, with that the butcher army left your ransacked home.

For the first minutes you didn't move from your position on the ground, your leg stretched out as your gaze was locked with the iron device hung from your ankle, trying to fathom what had just happened.

After a few minutes you needed to think of a plan, the device against your ankle uncomfortable as you climbed the stairs, forcing your attention to it every so often.

Your house laid in shambles around you, although you couldn't bring yourself to care, opening your window and clumsily hanging outside to access one of the birds that sat perched upon the little stick you had added to the outside of your home for it.

It smoothly hopped onto your hand, allowing you to pull it inside as it nuzzled its head onto your hand affectionately.

Allowing it to sit on your desk, you ripped a piece of parchment from the ground, dipping the quill into the remainder if the ink bottle that had spilled most of its contents onto your desk.

Your handwriting was quick and hurried as you wrote a single sentence, "The butcher army is coming right now." time didn't permit you to explain the entire situation. Rolling up the small piece of paper, you tied it to the birds leg, sending it off soon after and trusting it to reach Techno in time.

Worry ate away from your mind as you moved back to the downstairs of your house, searching the mess for any leftover potions you had, or first aid that once had been stored neatly in a chest.

Finding a regeneration potion in a corner on the ground, you quickly downed the liquid. You couldn't tell how long your shoulder would take to heal, especially not with the potion in your system, but you could only hope for the best as you created a makeshift sling for your arm for the time being.

Not bothering to reorganize what had become your home, you decided it would better to just leave, you could come back later for anything important left behind.

Despite that, you had to somewhat organize your belongings as you put together your weapons and supplies. It took longer than it should have with one arm, but you worked relentlessly, mind racing between Techno's condition and the ankle monitor that bound you to your home.

You had found your sword stuffed under your bed, your bow and arrows in the closet. The bow would be useless for now so instead you left it behind with the arrows, promising yourself that you'd return for them later.

The sun had started to set and more time than you'd like had passed. Lighting some lanterns throughout your home to provide lighting, you attempted to hack away at the iron device surrounding your ankle.

Using a pickaxe clumsily with one hand, you brought it down time and time again on the steel. There were times when you'd miss the device entirely, making the skin surrounding the device red and sensitive.

You were close to breaking the device when your attention got caught by loud noises outside, your eyes widened as you moved up the stairs, ignoring the dull ache coming from your ankle as you ran through your house.

Throwing open the doors to your small balcony, it didn't take long for you to see where the noise came from.

Your hand clasped over your mouth as your eyes widened.

The noise had come from the rattling of chains. Chains connected to metal cuffs on Techno's wrists. He stood without his cape, his crown and armor, without a weapon and chained. Quakity yanked the chain forward, and Techno's eyes met yours.

Despite the height difference as you stood on your balcony, Techno could see you perfectly well as they approached your home. His eyes widened at your scared eyes, the shocked expression on your face and the furrow of your brows.

He could see the sling that hung from your neck and hid your arm from his sight, the ankle monitor clasped around you and the red irritated skin surrounding it.

In a wave the voices blew up inside his mind, pure anger filling his veins as he realized the state you were in, what the butcher army had undoubtedly done to you.

Your name was torn from his throat, the desperation echoing throughout as he yanked on the chains connected to his cuffs.

It echoed over the street as you watched him, seeing the podium with its obvious intention behind him. Truly, he was in no place to worry about you.

Quakity couldn't control Techno, even with the chains, as he pulled himself loose, yelling out your name in attempt to reach you, making Fundy move over and grab the chain as well.

"What did they do to you?!" Despite the desperation, the need and anger that coated his voice, you couldn't find yourself able to allow words to leave your throat. Simply shaking your head hesitantly as you watched him.

Maybe, under different circumstances, you could've enjoyed hearing his voice once more.

He was torn away by Quakity and Fundy, his gaze desperate underneath the mask to see you as he twisted his head in your direction as long as he could.

When his eyes left yours, you moved inside, grabbing the pickaxe once more as you pulled your arm from the sling around your neck.

Your shoulder protested against your movements, although adrenaline coated most of the pain.

Raising the pickaxe above your head, you positioned your leg on a knocked over chair, smashing the tool down on the device with both hands.

It broke, the pickaxe scratching the skin and making a few droplets of blood trickle down your foot. You could hear Tubbo speaking outside as you pulled on your remaining boot and hurried up the stairs to grab your sword.

It didn't take long for chaos to break out on the small square, you could hear the loud shouting outside, grabbing a potion of health you only noticed now that had rolled under the table, you downed the liquid to relieve the pain of your shoulder as you unsheathed your blade.

Storming outside, it was a mess, Techno had pressed himself to the bottom side of the cage, his eyes following the descending anvil with wide eyes as you gasped involuntarily.

You had been too late.

The world seemed to slow as it hit him, a blinding light surrounding the cage for a moment as Techno jumped up, muscles and flesh reforming over his face as he arose from the death, leaping over the cage.

His eyes met yours for a mere second as you whispered wordlessly "go" knowing he lacked a weapon and what the butcher army could do if they caught him again.

The nod of his head was faint, nearly unnoticeable as he looked around for another second before jumping off the stage and running away.

You hadn't stored any armor in your home, although you didn't need it as you rushed past into the battle that was going on, swinging your sword dangerously around you to block whatever hit anyone send your way.

It hit Tubbo's shield, he send a piercing glare your way as you pulled your blade loose from the wood. He moved the shield to the side to attack you, but your reflexes, trained for the battle, were faster as you kicked him harshly backwards.

It didn't do much damage, but it forced him to stumble back and focus on finding his balance first before attacking you. It gave you the small window of time you needed to run away, following Techno's direction.

This time, you didn't need a compass to find him, simply following him where you knew he would go. It lead you to a familiar cave, although something was off, shouting could be heard from inside.

You had hurried to the entrance, hearing the beaming voice from Techno echo off the walls as he yelled.

"I have a pickaxe, and I'll put it through your fucking teeth!" His voice was booming loud as you entered, seeing the pickaxe make contact with Quakity's face as he took his second life.

His eyes met yours as you stood there, watching him as Quakity's body disappeared to respawn. He wore messy iron armor, obviously old and well used although it didn't matter. It was enough for now.

Techno could see the way your arm hung limply at your side and cloth you had used for a sling messily stuffed into a pocket. It made his embrace careful as he moved to you, his large hand brushing your hair messily out of your face as he met your eyes.

Words didn't leave his throat, but his actions said enough as he pulled you closer, allowing you to wrap your one arm around him in return.

It had been a while since you had seen each other, the feelings had been there and lingered back then, but now, pulled so close to him, you couldn't help yourself as you pressed your lips on the skin below his mask. He pulled back from the hug momentarily only to pull you in once more and pressing his lips against yours, allowing your actions to speak louder than any words would ever be able to.

From you could hear the fight go on in the distance, and he pulled away from you and moved towards his horse that stood prepared and ready to leave. He pulled you along with him as his hand clasped in yours.

He mounted his trusty companion, offering you his hand to help you up as you moved closer. You sat in front of him with his arms wrapped around your torso to hold the reins and guide the two of you back to his cabin.

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storiesoftaylor · 2 years

Text

9. Cornelia Street

Written by: Taylor Swift Produced by: Jack Antonoff & Taylor Swift Length: 4:47

~ listen along <3 ~

Fair warning, this is one is gonna be long.

[Verse One] I think this first verse is about the night that he hit her up and told her to come to this bar, and sneak through the back. The same night she is talking about in 'Delicate', " dive bar on the east side, where you at, phone lights up my nightstand in the black, come here, you can meet me in the back". A lot of swifties think that the bar that she is singing about is called "Lovers of Today" in the East village. The entrance to the bar is in the back of a different bar, and it's a 15 minute car ride from there to Taylor's Cornelia Street apartment.

We were in the backseat Drunk off something stronger than the drinks in the bar Being "drunk off something stronger than the drinks" just means the lust and attraction they were feeling for each other, was much stronger than the actual drinks that they had. "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car We were a fresh page on the desk Filling out the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head Leading us home Here she is letting us know that the relationship is new. It's a fresh page, and they don't really have a plan. They are just filling it in as they go, but she is saying the traffic lights are leading them home, like that's where they are meant to be. [Chorus] And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak, time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again And baby I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again At this part she is just telling Joe that if they ever broke up, she couldn't walk that street ever again. There's too many memories there and it would be way too painful. And I've seen a lot of people question why New York would scream Joe's name, but I think it's because that's the city where it all started for them. You know? There are memories every where she looks with him, that's why the city is screaming his name.

[Verse Two] Windows flung wide open, autumn air Jacket around my shoulders is yours We bless the rains on Cornelia Street We know it's raining, and it's autumn. We know her and Tom broke up late August or early September... Okay, please don't think I'm crazy... but I checked the weather report for New York. I really like research, okay?! I want to know what night this was.

So we can see that it rained on three different nights in New York in September of '16. The only night where it looks cold enough to have his jacket on would be the 24th or even the 27th. And we know their anniversary is the 28th... So one of those days. Memorize the creaks in the floor Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone I guess she was kind of over the games and she didn't wanna be toyed with anymore. She dipped. She got in her car and left her own home. I'm not sure where she was headed, but there are a good bit of tunnels in the city. The Hudson Tunnel is the closest to her apartment. It's only a 5 minute ride.

[Pre-Chorus] But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I

This is the roof of the Cornelia Street apartment. [Chorus] I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak, time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again And baby I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

[Bridge] You hold my hand, on the street Walk me back to that apartment There are photos of Taylor and Joe holding hands with some friends walking through Greenwich village on December 30, 2018. They walked past the old property.

Years ago, we were just inside Barefoot in the kitchen Here's the kitchen that they were barefoot in!

Sacred new beginnings That became my religion, listen

[Chorus] I hope I never lose you I'd never walk Cornelia Street again Oh, never again And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

[Post Chorus] I don't wanna lose you (hope it never ends) I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I don't wanna lose you (yeah)

[Outro] "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say causally in the car

WOW This one was a lot of work! I really hope you enjoy it!

#taylornation #lover #musicians #taylor swift #writers #lyrics #taylor lyrics #taylorswift #swiftie #cornelia street #swifties #swifttok #taylor nation #taylurking #taylor #swiftbonds

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chickawah23 · 2 years

Text

KK’s and Tay’s Arrows 💘🏹

Reminded me of Cornelia Street:

“We were a fresh page on the desk filling in the blanks as we go. As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home”

#i see parallels everywhere #random konnections

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

STEPH CORNELIA STREET BY TAYLOR SWIFT NEEDS TO BE ON THE PLAYLIST

youtube

[Verse 1] We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head Leading us home [Chorus] And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kinda heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again [Verse 2] Windows flung right open, autumn air Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours We bless the rains on Cornelia Street Memorize the creaks in the floor Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone

[Pre-Chorus] But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I [Chorus] I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kinda heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again [Bridge] You hold my hand on the street Walk me back to that apartment Years ago, we were just inside Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings That became my religion, listen [Chorus] I hope I never lose you I'd never walk Cornelia Street again Oh, never again And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

[Post-Chorus] I don't wanna lose you (Hope it never ends) I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I don't wanna lose you (Yeah) [Outro] "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car

(Lyrics from Genius.com)

Hey Nonny!

OOOOOOOOO YES. This works FOR SURE, oof. Surprised it took this long for someone to suggest it, LOL, especially with how many Swifties I seem to have following me, LOL. Thank you so much for this one, love it.

🎶 LISTEN TO THE JOHNLOCK PLAYLIST ON [SPOTIFY] & [YOUTUBE] 🎶

#steph replies #johnlock playlist #artist taylor swift #song cornelia street

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it-feels-legit · 4 years

Text

As if the streetlights pointed in an arrow head leading us home Pt. 1

I’m finally posting something! It’s a miracle!

I’ve decided that each part consists of one day, meaning that the part will cover wake-up to sleep. This means this first part is quite short, since it doesn’t start at wake-up.

Make sure you read the preamble first. That’s one a different post.

Kitty knew she had to do something soon, otherwise she wouldn’t survive. The teen was sitting on the park bench (or home, as she’s been calling it) with her knees to her chest, hiding her face. She had a relatively small pink bag of belongings sitting next to her, containing a couple changes of clothes, food, and her German Spitz stuffie. To be honest, she probably would’ve gone insane by now if it weren’t for Wolfie; she considered the dog her most valuable possession.

The wind blew through Kitty’s long brown hair as she was trying to think up a plan to survive. She’s tried everything considered “reasonable” by now: begging on the streets, (not) finding a job, going to shelters, etc. She figured it was time for some drastic measures.

Kitty scrunched up her eyes at the thought of stealing something. She really didn’t want to steal from someone, but by now she had little choice. She figured the best course of action would be to stake-out a house until she was sure nobody was inside. Luckily for her, she had already found a suitable house.

Kitty noticed this house early on in her homelessness; it was located right outside the park. The house only ever had one car, and it only seemed to house one person. Kitty did see the occasional friend over, but more often than not the owner was alone.

The owner was a blonde woman that looked to be in her early thirties. She was always away from home at a certain time: eight to four. At night, it was random if she was going to go out or not.

Kitty decided to put her plan into action tomorrow. It was too late to do it now; the owner was already home. Kitty grabbed Wolfie and settled down in her bench for a restless sleep.

#six fanfic #six the musical #six fandom #six fanfiction #six queens #as if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home #anna of cleves #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #katherine howard #catherine parr #jane seymour

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

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