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poptheweasel · 1 month

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Turkish Delight

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Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.

He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.

And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.

Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.

That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.

His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.

Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.

“Hey, you.”

Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.

Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.

“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.

“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?

“Like what you see?”

Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.

The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.

After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.

Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.

Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.

The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.

Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.

Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.

After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.

Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.

Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.

This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.

Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.

Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.

The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.

The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.

Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.

The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…

“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!

“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”

“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.

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Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!

#male transformation #male tf #race change #racial change #turkish tf #hair growth #hairy tf #reality change #musk tf #my writing

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en-gelic · 3 months

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𓍼 . about us ⋆ p.sunghoon

pairing ๋࣭ ⭑ brothersbsf!sunghoon x f.reader | genre(s) ๋࣭ ⭑fluff, secret relationship word count ๋࣭ ⭑1.1k | warnings ๋࣭ ⭑ petnames (princess, baby, my love), slightly suggestive, mentions of parties, drinking, kisses | status ๋࣭ ⭑ proofread ! | 𓍯 library ๋࣭ ⭑

Seven months ago, upon the birthday of one of your brother’s friends whom you were told to stay away from, loud music ached your head and resounded through your ears, bitter liquid igniting your throat as you made your way through a crowd of third years playing drinking games, declining their invite for you to join them, and forced your way through the vacant kitchen. Refilling a new cup with water to soothe the pain that was crawling into your head, you sat on the kitchen counter after filling it up, closing your eyes and praying that no one entered your room and infused it with disturbing noises and revolting scents. As you opened your eyes, you caught the amused stare of a boy with pale skin, dark brown hair that fell below his eyes, abnormally long fangs, and a sharp jawline. You watched as he scanned you and walked towards you, a boyish grin igniting on his face. Your mind blanks as his built arms form a cage around your body. His face resembled an animal who finally caught something it desired. Snapping out of the trance he had so easily put you in, you attempted to free yourself which was stopped without difficulty. As his face advanced towards yours, your breaths mingled, and a rush of memorabilia flooded your mind as you recalled who he was.

Park Sunghoon.

You were five years old when you first met him, two years before he got into his career of figure skating. You met him through Jake, your older brother by one year, and was instantly included as the baby of the friendship. Mainly because you were the baby of the friendship. Your friendship with him continued until you were 15 when he went abroad to continue his training in figure skating. You knew Jake still called him, but you didn’t know that he came back. Looking much more like a man rather than an adolescent boy.

Leading your mind back to reality, you scanned his face again. Nothing changed much besides the fact that he looked a lot less young than he did when you last saw each other.

“So now do you remember me, love?” He asked, breath fanning your face, probably reading the confusion on your face as you looked at him.

Your stomach lurched at the sudden nickname and hint of playfulness in his tone.

Ignoring his question, you caught his face in your hands and lifted it to examine it better. “You look old.”

Hearing this, his face contorted in confusion at your sudden statement. “That’s one way to welcome me.”

Your mouth curled at the corners as you replied, “My apologies, your highness. I welcome your presence dearly.”

Amused at your tease, he straightened up. “You haven’t changed at all, princess.”

“You’ve changed. You became a massive flirt.” Your nose scrunched to mask the acrobatics your stomach was performing.

“Only for you.”

You could admit that before he left, there was something between the two of you. Exchanging secret glances, holding hands, and the utmost care you would put into doing something that had something to do with him.

“I heard from an unnamed source that you say this to everyone.” Still smiling, your arms engulfed his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Tell that source, that I only mean it when I’m talking to you.” His body was warm and his hair tickled your shoulder. He adjusted his head and trailed soft kisses from your neck to your cheeks, stopping just as he reached your lips.

Amusement hinted with disappointment washed your features as he pulled away. “You tease.” You muttered, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck and pulling him towards you. Breaths mingled; your lips connected moving in sync as your heartbeat rapidly increased. Separating the both of you, you jumped off the kitchen counter, noticing almost immediately how much he had grown.

“You’re still short.” His lips, now tinted in pink, found their way to your forehead as you tugged at his hand, insisting on bringing him up to your room to show him everything he missed out on while he was gone.

Years had gone by, but it still felt like nothing had changed at all.

All you desired was a moment with him alone. Cramped in your room, your brother and his friends made themselves visibly comfortable by splaying their limbs out on your bed, leaving no breathing space for you who was in between Jake and Sunghoon. The movie was draining and boring, but Sunghoon insisted that they all watch the movie together. With only seven minutes left in the movie, you listened as everyone’s breathing became heavy. Your eyes began to feel heavy and were about to shut before an arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer to them. He planted a kiss on your neck and adjusted your head so that you were resting on his arm. Flinching, you felt a cold hand sneak under your shirt drawing hearts on your stomach, reminding you how much he loved you.

“Your hands are so cold.” You said, fighting the urge to kick him as his hand was creeping higher.

“I’m cold-blooded.” He replied, his breath warm against your neck as you rolled your eyes at the horrible joke. He kissed your collarbone for a longer period this time and you quickly moved out of his reach, sensing that something that could get the both of you in trouble was about to happen. A grin painted his face as he pulled you back into his arms. “Is my baby scared that they’ll find out about us?” His tone was mocking as he was amused by your cautiousness. He was always getting the both of you into situations like this. Sending you messages when you were showing your brother something, knowing very well that you named him ‘My love’, holding your waist and nuzzling his head between your neck when everyone was around but no one was watching. Elbowing his rib, you turned to face his amused stare as he leaned down to peck your lips. Doing it more than once to tease you. For the last one you initiated it and held it for long, only separating to catch your breath. Lip on lip, moving in sync as your breaths mingled together. You felt someone moving beside you but still didn’t stop just to tease your boyfriend who pulled away almost immediately upon hearing the movement.

You looked up at his face and grinned in utter amusement at the worry that was painted on it.

“Are you scared they’re going to find out about us?” You teased, copying his mocking tone. He grinned back at you and muttered lowly against your hair, “How about we go to my place to continue?”

Your smile increased as you sat up and walked towards your door. "Why not?"

⭑ authors note: my perfectionism tried me while writing this :/

౨ৎ perm taglist: @i57berry @cholexc (open)

#lia writes ๋࣭ ⭑౨ৎ #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon imagines #writing #sunghoon imagines #enha fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enha #･･✸ en-gelic #･･✸ lia writes !#—🗯 lia blabs

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macleod · 2 years

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In France, all new and existing medium to large parking lots will have to be covered by solar panels

In France, solar just got a huge boost from new legislation approved through the Senate this week that requires all parking lots with spaces for at least 80 vehicles – both existing and new – be covered by solar panels.

Starting July 1, 2023, smaller carparks that have between 80 and 400 spaces will have five years to be in compliance with the new measures. Carparks with more than 400 spaces have a shorter timeline: They will need to comply with the new measures within three years of this date, and at least half of the surface area of the parking lot will need to be covered in solar panels.

Other measures on the table include building large solar farms on vacant land found alongside highways and railways, as well as on agricultural lands where feasible.

France’s national rail service SNCF also plans to install some 190,000 square meters of solar panels in 156 stations throughout the country by 2025 and 1.1 million square meters by 2030, all with the aim to reduce energy consumption by 25%.

The government also plans to build around 50 additional wind farms likes the one offshore Saint-Nazaire by 2050 in France. Measures are in place to reduce delays in building offshore wind farms from 10-12 years down to six years, and large solar farms from six years to three years.

(Source: Electrek, November 8th 2022)

#energy #renewables #solar panels #france #science #technology #mine

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snoopyana · 3 months

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negative rizz.

“last name is bitches, first name is no.”

in which quiet boy anton shots his shot and attempts to run away from his bitch-less title. spoiler alert, it doesn’t go according to plan. ABORT MISSION..

lee chanyoung / anton.

“one date, please.”

“no.”

“PLEASE.”

ever since anton found you in the library, he had been begging for just one date. and it’s not like you’re some random girl! knowing each other for 3 years now. a single date is all he wanted! the poor boy was tired of hearing his friends tease him and his bitch-less agenda that he so strongly opposed. his head rested on your shoulder while your attention stay glued to the laptop screen in front of you.

“why can’t i just take you on one date! i’ll make it worth your while i swear!!” the male was basically whining into your ear now, his head weighing down your shoulder as he scooted closer. invading your imaginary bubble with his pleas and cries. such a drama queen! ignoring his words, for what seemed like the sixth time in the past hour he’s been here, your fingers made work on the keyboard.

huffing in your ear, shuffling could be heard not too far from the table you two were seated in — causing anton’s eyes to chase after the source of the noise. craning his neck, the boy looked past you and just across the way, where a few boys sat down at a vacant table. which was conveniently located a few feet away from you. eyes nearly popping out of his head when the realization set in.

the other six boys had found him, and were staring directly at you two. wide smiles on each of their faces, which was a stark contrast to antons deepening frown. shifting his gaze back to you, his desperation went from high to higher. basically skyrocketing with the presence of his groups expecting glances.

“you know, i’m not going to say yes just because your little crew is here now.” he was completely lost in thought, your words violently snapping him back to. “please yn, you don’t understand how important this is to me!” throwing himself back onto your shoulders, the younger man thought of his now limited options. whining like a toddler clearly was not working and his chances of getting you to even think of the word yes was plummeting faster than the stock-market in 1929.

your unamused gaze shifted between anton, his friends, and your computer screen stared back at you — swearing you heard the electronic device sigh. man, what does a woman have to do to be able to finish her exams in peace? closing the device abruptly, you stood just as quickly. stuffing the laptop into your bag, you were quick to start heading towards the exit — a dazed anton trailing after you. the six pairs of eyes following as you two made your way to the front.

“where are you going??” you came to an abrupt stop, causing his front to have a meet and greet with your back — might as well ask for your backs autograph since he’s so close. “oh my goodness, i’ll go on a date with you if you finish my exam for me.” sarcasm lacing your words. scratching the back of his head, anton took a few steps back. there was silence, the sound of the library doors creaking open. he didn’t even have to turn around to know who was there.

“so is that a yes?”

“oh my god, you’re actually insufferable.”

“I’M JUST ASKING!!”

“just give up man, this is getting embarrassing..”

note - i had a lot of fun writing this little thing. i didn’t wanna write anything serious so i didn’t! should i make another part where they actually go out or keep it as is? also did i mention this was written in like 10 minutes 😭

#luvyujun #anton lee #riize anton #riize eunseok #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize shotaro #riize sungchan #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize scenarios

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snoozepotato · 1 year

Text

We’ll Be Fine -14- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns + female anatomy

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, swearing, eye contact, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, over-stimulation, multi-orgasm, creampie, soft Ghost, anxiety, scars, tattoos, fluff

Masterlist

Summary: Ghost shows up at your room late at night, he just got back and has been gone longer than expected. You missed him a lot and things get out of hand (≖ᴗ≖)

Part 14

~UNDONE~

You’ve been trying your best to keep the negative thoughts at bay, it's not abnormal for missions to take longer than expected. But Ghost's vague estimate of a few weeks left you unsettled, even more so as time started to pass. A few weeks had turned into a few months, as life slogged by on base around you. Keeping yourself weighed down with busy work while your mind drifts.

Things take time, hell, you know that from experience. Even so, you’ve been worried about him, it's started affecting your already inconsistent sleep schedule. And dammit, you missed having tea with him in the morning!

You'd been brooding in your room since completing your work for the day, curled up in bed wearing Ghost’s hoodie. You're thankful he never asked for it back, in moments like these it was one of the only things that kept you grounded. Snuggling into the garment and taking a deep breath. It's been a while but somehow his scent still lingers in the fabric, or maybe it’s just some wishful thinking on your part.

Fuck, you're a wreck…

A sudden knocking on your door startles you from your position on the bed. Staring perplexed, why would someone be here this late? There's a sudden spark of fear that shoots through you, with the odd hour, what if it's bad news? You're frozen there for a moment, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. Anxiety sitting cold in your gut as you just stare blankly through the darkness.

Until another knock erupts from the other side of the barrier, louder this time. You spring from the bed, the fear overtaken by curiosity. Whoever it is better have a good reason for waking you… Well, you technically weren't asleep, but you should be. You hastily unlock the door to peek your head out, only to be greeted by a broad chest.

There in your doorway, looking a little worse for wear is Ghost.

You're struck by the view of him standing there clad in that worn mask with the skull face plate. You've seen him wearing it on more than a few occasions, usually when he's on his way off base for work. It's rather intimidating, you're sure it serves its purpose out in the field. But if you're being completely honest, it's always left you feeling a little heated.

“You’re home,” dazed words escape you, feeling foolish at your choice of phrasing.

“Did I wake you?” He's grasping the door frame with a gloved hand, peering down at you with mild concern. Did he strip his gear off and immediately come looking for you? When did he even get back?

“No, I couldn't sleep… You can sit down,” you mutter, turning on the light and motioning him in. Taking one last glance out into the vacant hallway before closing the entry after him. Leaving you alone in the quiet of your room with Ghost, who's stripped off his jacket and taken a seat at your desk chair. Your frazzled mind is racing while you try to keep your rapidly slipping composure. The space grows quieter by the moment as he sits there staring at the ground between you.

“Everything ok?” You ask, but his mind is somewhere else, “Simon?” Stepping forward you stand in front of his seated form. The sound of his name coaxes his gaze up to meet yours, and fire erupts in his dark eyes.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“I was worried about you,” the words fumble from your lips as you take another step forward to stand between his widened legs.

“That why you're moping about your room… In my clothes?” He's smirking beneath the fabric of the mask, very obviously taking in your form before him. You can’t help but feel naked under his heavy gaze despite the oversized garment.

Observing wordlessly as he removes his gloves, and rests a now bare appendage at the hem of the sweatshirt. Your eyes are locked, as he searches for any sign of hesitation. Caressing the delicate skin of your thigh before trailing up to halt at the waistband of your shorts. Heartbeat hammering away in your chest as he dips a finger beneath the thin fabric. Dragging it down till the garment slips, pooling at your feet. A shaky breath escapes you as his lingering touch skims back up your leg to rest on your bare hip.

“Nothin' under those, you waiting up for me?” He murmurs darkly, eyes burning into yours.

“I missed you,” the words slip out as he lazily pulls you down to settle into his lap without resistance.

You reach out to caress the side of his face, thumb brushing over the rigid material of the weathered mask. He's watching you, curiously eyes meeting yours. Embarrassment creeps in as he catches your dreamy stare. Looking away with blushed cheeks and shifting restlessly.

“You seem to like this one,” he coaxes, tugging you further against him, putting an end to your weak attempt at retreat.

“I never said that,” you mutter defensively, caught off guard by his accusation, not that it wasn’t true…

“Don’t have to, I've caught you staring at me,” he pauses, “guess I never thought that was why.”

The dry words only further your embarrassment, as your head slumps against his shoulder to hide your feverish complexion.

Suddenly you’re hoisted upwards, choking down a shaky breath as the stiffness of him presses against you. Your legs braced around him as he makes his way over to your bed, lowering you onto the cot and caging you beneath him. As your body sinks into the thin mattress pad your mind is suddenly plagued with doubt, insecurity sparking in your chest.

“You're sure?… You were gone a while” you murmur awkwardly, propping yourself onto your elbows as you peer up at his looming figure.

“I’ve been waiting so patiently, love,” his words drip with desperate sincerity, that fire smoldering in his eyes as he descends upon you.

His hands work their way up your sides to snake beneath the material of the sweatshirt. Pulling the garment over your head and tossing it onto your desk chair. Your bare state would have felt unjust if his own shirt hadn't followed suit immediately after.

Leaving you laying there trying not to gawk, while nimble hands make quick work of his belt. Freeing the beast that's clearly trapped within the confines of his pants. To say the scale was daunting would be an understatement, but lying there beneath his toned figure, you were more than willing to accommodate.

“You ready for me?” He drawls, stroking his hard cock as he gazes down at your exposed form, like he's about to devour you.

“I’m all yours,” you coo as he brushes your entrance. Slowly teasing his head in and out of your already dripping slit, taking care to drag across your needy flesh till your thighs are twitching with building anticipation. A tightly coiled spring ready to burst, trembling and desperate for more.

The impatience quickly takes hold, hooking your knee over his hip to pull him deeper into you as he hisses out a curse. Consumed by the satisfying pleasure of being filled to the brim, his name uttered as a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Glazed eyes half-lidded as he admires your blissed expression, all for him.

“Fuck, you're tight” he rasps, the pressure building as your release begins to spill over. Gripping your knee, he pushes your leg up to split you open for his greedy length.

Gasping out in desperation, you arch to meet the friction of his rhythmic thrusts. Chasing that perfect angle, body tensing as you pulse with crackling pleasure. Riding out your orgasm all the while swimming in his murky gaze. The feeling of unraveling in his hands, fallen apart and at his mercy.

It's overwhelming.

Catching notice of your unrest, his pace slows as you try to catch your breath. But your eyes are downcast, suddenly afraid to meet his stare.

Icy doubt licking at your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me love,” hushed words murmured against your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, swallowing down a whimper as his heat leaves you. He grasps your chin with a firm hand, forcing you to meet his sharp gaze. Expecting to face the reaper, only to catch sight of his bare stumbled jaw. Your eyes lock for a long moment, the mask is gone. You're left gaping at him, eyes wide and startled.

“You alright?” His words are short, concern sparking in his stare.

You're so used to anonymity, it's easy to never see someone's face when you're sitting behind a computer all day. There was always that sliver of secrecy with Ghost until this moment, and it had always felt normal. Even so, it's still his eyes that draw you in, his trust in you is so blatant now. Every ounce of anonymity was stripped away, Simon caging you beneath him.

“I’m good,” you mutter through a sigh, leaning into his touch as his hold relaxes to caress your flushed face. His tense features unwinding at the view of you smiling up at him.

“Bend over for me love, I want to look at you, all of you,” he murmurs, your eyes held in his tender gaze.

Pulling you from your lying position, to bend you over the bed before him. Anxiety creeping in again as he admires your form from behind, feeling utterly vulnerable under his heavy gaze. But this heat washes over you, like he’s engulfed you in the fire smoldering in his eyes.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes, running a hand down the length of your back, thumb tracing along the curve of your spine. He can feel the scars that lie beneath the white of your tattoo, a reminder of where you've been, how you got to him.

“Look how easy you’ve come undone for me,” he teases, an evident smirk in his tone.

Your back arches as he drags the head of his cock over your already sensitive flesh. Entering you again from your position bent over the bed. Your leg lowers to the floor to retain your balance as he presses deeply into your soaked folds. Simon letting out a low grumble of a moan as he thrusts to bury himself completely within you.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans.

A strained wine escapes your lips at the friction, vision losing its focus momentarily. Craning your head to the side, catching his dark stare out of the corner of your sight.

“Your eyes… Do something to me,” you gasp breathlessly, your heated words gripping him as he continues relentlessly thrusting into you.

“Sensitive,” you sputter, bucking against him as the walls of your heat twitch with building pressure. Rough hands pulling you by the waist to meet his pounding length.

“Good,” he pants, “let go for me.”

Snaking a hand around you to rest the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. The action alone causes your hips to spasm involuntarily from overstimulation. Trembling wrists nearly give way as he circles the tender flesh.

Biting back a gasp as you're pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching around him as another orgasm rolls through you. His large hand cradles your breast, arching your back further as his thrusts grow frantic, cock pulsing as your heat spasm.

“Fuck,” he rasps, groaning as he jerks stiffly within you. Release spilling over, your body pressed against him, his breath hot in your ear. You shudder as his cock throbs, filling you with warmth, and you're unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips.

His fingers curl into your side as he buries his face into your shoulder, thrusting sharply into you once more, completely drained.

You knew he'd eventually have to leave, but you couldn't help but drift off to sleep nestled against him. Simon's back to the door as he gazes down at you, keeping watch over your resting form.

The mask has returned when you wake sometime later, to a hand brushing the stray hair from your face. He murmurs something but you don't quite catch it through the haze of your slumber. In your foggy state, you completely miss him nabbing the mug off your desk before heading out the door.

The sound fully rips you from your stupor as you sit up in your cold bed, realizing you're once again alone in your room. You contemplate letting sleep take hold, but instead get up to re-clothe yourself in the sweatshirt he'd discarded on the chair. You feel kinda pathetic laying there sulking again in his absence, missing the furnace of a man in your bed...

But your thoughts are halted by a firm knocking on the door. Before you can second-guess yourself, you're already yanking the entry open. And there he is standing outside your door again, but now holding two cups of tea. Changed out of his dirty clothes from earlier, but still wearing that mask…

What a fucking tease.

“Told you I'd right be back,” he states plainly, making his way back into the small space and taking a seat at your desk.

Watching amused as you settle back onto your bed. It's quiet as you sip your tea, mask left discarded on your pillow. His short-cropped hair lay disheveled, pressed against his head from the long hours of wear. Calling your name softly, he looks so tired but there's this levity in his eyes.

You might have made a lot of mistakes in life, but meeting Simon Riley wasn't one of them. Looking at you with that tender gaze, it felt like home. Somewhere to return after the horrors of the world take their toll, hands to guide each other through the darkness.

WELL then, I hope you enjoyed (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

Thank you so very much for reading, this is all I have planned for this section of their story. I've got a few related fics/oneshots mulling in my brain so be on the lookout for those and more art!

@tallrock35 @violet-19999 @hypernovaxx @k4marina @sebsbee @d4z01 @ramadiiiisme @embers-of-alluring @enfppixie

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eldritch-spouse · 10 months

Text

Prevarication

[Reader can be assumed neutral.]

TW: Body image issues; Yandere.

Hudd sits quietly in your vacant room.

He's not meant to be here, of course.

He has better things to do, now more than ever. This is utterly beneath him, every aspect of it.

In fact, ever since he met you, the historian has been tumbling down a flight of endless stairs leading him to an abyss of ruthless indignity. Truly, the demonoid believes that, if he doesn't miraculously find his footing amidst each painful tumble, it will only end with his pride shattered in a million microscopic pieces.

What's left of it anyway…

Hudsyn knew he didn't have much to begin with by the time he approached you. Because who even approaches a human for help? They're such helpless creatures on their own, almost entirely devoid of use in most situations. Stupid. Pointless. Active sophists, denialists, mendacious, perverters of truth-

It was a fool's gamble.

And Hudd tried before, past the wounds of people calling him insane at every turn, he tried to keep his chin up and hope that someone of minimal value would open their eyes, come to see that he pursues nothing but the most noble of goals.

Hope is fleeting however. He supposes he was also bankrupt on that by the time he had ventured to the surface. The surface… As much as it is filled with wondrous sites to explore, it's also deeply bothersome with its intense daylight. Days in Hell are a lot less visually stressful. Probably because there's no standard sun around the annexes, only magical imitations of a day cycle- Meaning the light Perdition inhabitants are exposed to is a lot less intense than raw sun rays. Past the shock of it, Hudsyn has to keep an even closer look on his robes, because it's hard to project facial features when a more potent source of light drowns out his own.

And, frankly, he looks garish enough, the last thing the demon needs is to look totally faceless to strangers.

Nevertheless, in retrospect, if Hudd had to guess what led him to you, it was probably a combo of hopelessness, physical stress, lack of self-respect… And, naturally, your vapid musing out loud.

He wanted to believe, desperately, for a second, that someone actually gave half as much of a shit as he did. In that moment, it didn't matter if you were human, demon, gargoyle- Fuck, you could have been a barely strung together ghoul, he would have still sprinted and sat beside you like a fumbling buffoon.

He regrets that day so much.

For fuck's sake, he's talking about it like it happened years ago when it hasn't even been a measly week… So why does it feel like Hudd's known you forever?

Sure, you said a few weird things to him that kind of put the historian at edge, you're a little weirdo, he has to concede, but you're what he's been desperately craving for all this time. A pair of functioning ears with a decently working brain between them- Someone who respects him! Who cares, who's minimally knowledgeable, critical of everything that's taken as gospel or, at the very least, willing to learn better. Willing to understand that his time is valuable and his findings even more so.

You're a gem.

Hudsyn knows he disappeared on you the day you met. And even if what you did weirded him out, on its own it wouldn't be enough to make him leave. He's seen weirder people with much less harmless quirks. No, he was nervous then. Anxious. He needed to leave sooner or later, because there was too much on his mind.

There's always too much on his mind.

But that was a different type of information. One Hudd couldn't neatly file away in organized categories, picking and plucking and flipping at it to crack secrets out. That was personal, deep, hit him in places he didn't really know how to handle. It was chaos. You made him feel chaotic, impulsive and intense in ways that had exactly zero in common with the hysteria he can sometimes fall into in the midst of his work.

It took mountains of effort for the demonoid not to reach out and touch you. In fact, he had been trying to put space between you all that time to keep himself grounded, even when you seemed receptive to more contact, when you tried to start flirting, for whatever reason. Why would you flirt with him? In truth, Hudsyn just wanted to feel your hair. He wanted to touch your cheek and place your hand in yours. It's small. You're small. Small enough to hold, he's sure of it. He would have liked to. Maybe kiss you. His mouth… Well, you wouldn't enjoy it.

Point is, you remind him of how lonely he is. Sure, better alone than with bad company, but now that he's met someone whose company is not just tolerable but enjoyable, he doesn't really want to be apart from you anymore. It's depressing.

Hudd knew what was happening to him by the time he got over his own shaking to seek you out again. He had deviated from his work just to speak with that little human again… He knew, he knew he was falling into something destructive- But he also had to, because if the demonoid didn't, then he'd just be thinking about you day and night in a rut, brain muddled and knotting itself into a ball.

He doesn't regret it.

You were… So nice to him.

Offered him tea.

Said his eyes were pretty. You idiot, they're hardly eyes to begin with.

Said he was well-spoken.

Said he was cultured.

That you could listen to him for a whole day.

And his heart just fluttered so incredibly hard that Hudd could feel his fur stand on end. It wasn't the only thing that wanted to stand, given your choice of wardrobe, but that's beyond the matter.

Was that a date? Was that your first date? Sure, Hudsyn invited himself into your living space, but you reacted so well, you looked at him so enraptured by his speech… That was a date. Some kind of date. And it went very well. Enough so that he can feel himself smiling at the thought of repeating the experience.

He hopes you smile at the concept too.

As memories flood him, the historian feels himself shiver again. It's more of a rattle, the short fur on his form bristling with the sincerity of his emotions. Hudd wonders if you'd ever willingly invite him into your bedroom, or if he's just continuing to poke where he doesn't belong. He's always been good at that.

How different would that bizarre night have been if he had gotten over his own trance and said something bolder? If you had taken him by the hand, or even the horns, and led him to your bed? Which he coincidentally sits upon now.

Would you say you wanted him?

Maybe it's far-fetched, but Hudsyn likes to imagine you would. After all the rules he's broken and the punishments be carries, Hudd desperately wants to think you'd look at his body and call it beautiful. The same way you described his eyes. Or, at the very least, that you'd look past his blemishes and accept his affections.

He's not pretty like you.

He did look good before, but those days are gone, shelved, covered in dust and cobwebs and all the resentment his heart can hold- He hates beauty in others.

But it's tolerable in you. Because your beauty is the perfect type. The natural one. It shows in all parts of your human figure and he's sure the envious must burn to a crisp at the sight of you, the ones that can decipher that perfection for what it really is.

Hudsyn gets images of you sprawled on this very same bed, your hair disheveled and the same pajamas you wore that night slipping away from your soft skin. You don't care that it's revealing, don't care that you're teasing him, you're just that comfortable. He sees his own pale, bleached hands dragging the fabric down further, greedy for more- And his imagination is so vivid he swears he feels the heat of your skin on his knuckles, the pliant molding of your body as you stretch lazily and part your legs, giving him a view that-

Hudd groans.

His robes shift, and the fantasy dies immediately.

Because if you can't get over his blemishes then you'll certainly never come to accept his genitals. Just feeling his exterior protrusions -He doesn't know what to call them, they're not claspers or tendrils, but they move and swell- Pulse is a painful reminder that he's packing something very weird, and not just by human standards. You wouldn't want that. But that doesn't mean he can't fool himself.

By the time he feels his cock unfurl and poking at the top of his slit, the demonoid huffs, resigning himself to his self-inflicted predicament and lifting his robes out of the way. His dick emerges faster than ever before, probably because he's been in a dry spell for way too long- He likes to keep track of things, but as the years passed, Hudsyn grew a little too embarrassed to keep doing so in this regard.

It's a dark grayish member that curves firmly upwards, thin but long enough to make some men jealous. Hudd pulses, it's not a throb, he can see his own member contract and dilate as if he's going to lay something. But Hudsyn doesn't lay eggs. Maybe he was meant to, and something went wrong, he's not sure. He doesn't care. Beneath his strangely flexible dick, his clit perks and his pussy clenches, starting to make a mess of your sheets.

Yeah, a human might say he's uh- Kinda fucky.

Beyond his own self-awareness, the historian entertains the idea that you might, by a small miracle, react positively to his package. That you'd reach out, on your knees -Because really, that's a human's place in the end. Since the dawn of time, your race has been nothing but a toy- And use your mouth to show your appreciation towards Hudd. Because his time is valuable, and you're a generous little human, aren't you?

What part of him would you want first?

Maybe you'd go for his cock, he hums while looping a hand over his own length, tugging it leisurely from root to tapered tip, imagining it's your small hand, that you'd tongue at his end and try to take him into your throat- Failing, naturally. He's too much for most, but you'd keep attempting anyway, gagging and drooling viscerally, just to please him. Hudsyn shudders, panting in the quiet of your room.

Or, perhaps, you'd service his cunt. It's been so long since he's had anything inside him, your sweet tongue would do just fine, your fingers, your perfect unblemished digits curling into all those wonderful spots while you suck his clit and pump his cock and pop back just to moan how happy you are that he gave you the time of day-

Hudsyn makes a raspy croak of pleasure, arching on your bed like a slut in heat, eyes closed, one hand fisting his shaft furiously and the other filling his pussy. Who is he fucking kidding anymore? You could bend him over in two, he might almost beg for more.

It should be him thanking you.

For listening to him.

Finding him interesting.

Letting him converse with you even when he invaded your home.

Hudd needs to thank you for making sure his pride doesn't wilt completely. Beyond all his denial, all his mixed feelings, he knows that to be the truth.

He feels accomplished around you. Apt. Intelligent.

Wanted.

And fuck, he wants you ten times more. He wants his sweet mentee right at his side. Forever.

The image of you mouthing a tender "I love you" against his soaked cunt and moving up to kiss his length, lacing your hand with his, hits Hudd like lightning.

He doesn't know what shape he's contorting into, horns tearing into your poor sheets and that stump of a tail swatting around as his thighs flex and he orgasms harder than he could ever expect, snarling.

Thankfully, most of the monster's cum falls on his own stomach and robes, this pearly white mess that's going to matt his fur if he doesn't take care of it soon. Still, all Hudd's worried about is riding out the last of his high, fingers still pumping and dick twitching, oozing.

When Hudsyn's minimally coherent, he can only bask in his own shame, clarity chiding him. Mild panic rises in the demonoid's chest when he notices the very suspicious wet spots on your bed.

Fuck.

Now what?

The sound of keys turning has the historian almost squealing in distress.

Hudd jumps off your bed, still exposed and dripping and trembling with aftershocks. He strips his robes fully, crumples them into a gross ball, then throws them out your window.

Just before you can push the door to your bedroom open, he whimpers and vanishes into thin air.

…

It smells kinda funny in here.

#Hudd oc #pinnie's art #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #not sfw #nsft #minors dni

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joshsindigostreak · 2 months

Text

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Eleven

“Revel in this, my lover.”

Vampire!Josh x Vampire!Reader

Authors note: Once again I am SO SORRY this took forever. I hope you can forgive me. Enjoy this rollercoaster of a chapter!!

Word Count: 8,586

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of blood, World War 2 discussions, brief SMUT towards the end, but nothing out of the ordinary.

To say that this particular Blood Den in Chicago had a different vibe than the first one Josh had been to, was an understatement. Instead of the antique furniture, there were plush booths that lined the walls, each paired with a set of curtains for added privacy. Instead of classical music, there was enough bass booming through the sound system to make the floors shake. The color scheme was varying shades of red and black, and the matching lights added to the dramatic atmosphere.

Josh tried not to let his nerves show when the two of you were escorted up to the VIP section, which was a roped off area by itself on a red carpeted platform that was in the corner of the Den, and had its own circular couch that wrapped all the way around it. The second you both walked in, hand in hand, eyes turned and stared. Some Vampires who were in the middle of feeding looked up and paused as you both passed. Josh would openly admit he loved being the center of attention but this was…different.

His steps slowed, and you looked over your shoulder and saw the look on his face. You squeezed his hand as you led him through the crowd, following the security detail Dimitri had assigned to you for your stay in Chicago. At the gesture, he squared his shoulders and caught up to you.

You could hear the whispering as you wove through the crowd. The music was loud enough that you couldn’t make out much, but the words hunter and Kiszka were crystal clear. Thankfully you were finally walking up the short flight of stairs to the VIP section, which was entirely vacant as Dimitri had explicit instructions that it was for you. Anyone else who would normally sit up there would have to get over it for the nights you were in attendance.

As the both of you settled on the red couch, the security guard turned and took his post at the foot of the stairs. It felt surreal and almost fishbowl-like where you were sitting, but thankfully the crowd went back to what they were doing and for the moment the spotlight wasn’t literally on you both.

You turned to Josh, “this is still…very weird.”

“It’s definitely…a lot.”

You searched his sweet face, trying to find every question he had swirling behind his eyes.

“Hey,” you said as you reached up to turn his chin towards you. Your fingers lightly toying with the hair that grew from it, “what’s going on in that head of yours, Boy Scout?”

He stared at you as if you were the only person in the room, his eyes softened at your touch.

“This…this is the first time I’ve walked into one of these as…,” his voice trailed off.

“One of us?” You tilted your head slightly as you smiled at him and your thumb rubbed back and forth on his jaw.

It was only three words, but there was so much weight to them.

“Yeah,” he all but whispered.

“Boy Scout, I saw them staring too. But just know that they’re not looking at you like you’re a hunter. Because you aren’t one anymore, and they know you gave that up. They’re probably confused as to why you did something so selfless. We’re not known for our generosity, as you know. What you did doesn’t happen very often, if at all.”

“I’d do it again.”

Now it was your turn for your eyes to soften.

“You would?”

His hand slid across the small space between you, taking your free hand.

“Wouldn’t even hesitate…”

You started to lean in to kiss your Vampire, but someone clearing their throat in front of you made you freeze centimeters away from his lips. Annoyed, your eyes slid to the side to see the source of the noise.

It was one of the Den servers, who had been awkwardly standing there for most of the exchange.

Sitting back against the couch, you said, “...yes?”

“I was sent to get your drink orders.”

You perked up a little at the question, automatically telling him you’d like your usual A-Negative Manhattan. He looked over at Josh, who seemed a bit lost at what to order.

An idea struck you, “OH! Do you do Blood Flights here?”

The server gave you a slight, duh, look but he quickly smiled and said, “yes we do.”

“Ok can we get one then? It’s been awhile since we’ve had some real variety.” You smirked at Josh, happy you smoothed over a potential awkward moment for him, and got him a treat in the process. You were about to have fun.

“Do you want only Negatives, Positives, or-”

“Oh no give us the whole eight please, a full spread!” He gave you a slight grimace before nodding and turning to leave.

Josh turned to you as the server hurried off to the bar, “is a Blood Flight what I think it is?”

“You haven’t figured out what you like yet, and this is a good and safe way to do so for someone as new as you.” Your finger reached up and lightly booped his cheek.

He tried to fight a smile but failed miserably, and relaxed on the back of the couch with you. A few Vampires approached the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you two curiously and speaking to the security guard. He shook his head at them and promptly shooed them off.

You rested your arm behind Josh on the back of the couch, and lightly toyed with the curls at the base of his neck, “did you read the itinerary?”

He shrugged, “I skimmed it before we went to sleep this morning.”

“Well, apparently the first night we’re here, we aren’t going to have any visitors, but the next few nights we’ll slowly get more and more people up here with us. Dimitri has some friends that are regulars here that he felt needed to be seen with us.”

“Great.”

“Oh it’ll be fun. You need to make more Vampire friends anyway. They’ll love you, I’m sure of it.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” he said, not fully convinced.

“...and if anyone is rude to you, I’ll rip their fingers off,” your tone was so light and cheery it made Josh give you a look. “What? They’ll grow back.”

“Have you ever done that before?”

You smiled and gave him an innocent shrug, “maybe, maybe not…”

“Sweet-”

“You see the trick is,” your fingers of one hand wrapped around the middle finger on your other hand and you pulled it back slightly, “you have to do it quick enough to shatter the knuck-”

“That's enough, I get the picture,” he took both of your hands in his to get you to stop.

“Well, like I said, if anyone is rude to you, I’ll show you how to properly do it,” you smiled at him.

Before he could properly reply, the Den server was back with your drink. He placed yours on the table in the middle of the platform that the couch wrapped around. Behind him was another server who was holding a long tray containing eight small glasses, all filled to the brim with dark red blood. After delivering the drinks the two of them scurried down the stairs to tend to the booths on the wall.

Josh scooted forward to the edge of the couch to get a better look at the “Blood Flight” as it was called. The long wooden tray looked to be hand carved, each glass was labeled by the blood type etched into the wood in front of it. The smell wafted up into his nose and he could feel his gums itch, with pressure around his canines. It was getting easier to look at blood and actually want to drink it. He tried to equate the smell with the smell of his favorite food before he was turned, but each night that memory was getting more and more distant and faint, and the instinct to crave blood was getting stronger. He even tried to think about something as basic as pizza, but found that he had to concentrate really hard to remember the taste, and when he finally did it didn’t even sound appealing to him.

You took a sip of your Manhattan before putting it down and scooted closer to him.

“This is going to be fun, Boy Scout,” you encouraged as you draped your arm over his shoulders and leaned in even closer. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to the glasses on the table. “Now, they line them up from most to least common blood types, starting with O-Positive, the Ol’ Faithful of blood.”

He gave you a sideways glance, before reaching for the small glass and bringing it to his nose. The smell was a little unfamiliar but sweet. As he brought the glass to his lips, he felt more pressure around his fangs, and he looked at you curiously. You flashed him an encouraging smile as he brought the glass to his plush lips and took a sip.

First impression? He liked it. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but there was something…hardy about it? It wasn’t overly remarkable, but it was pleasant. He took another sip for a second impression, and he wobbled his head back and forth before looking at you.

“It's not terrible,” he concluded.

You nodded in agreement, “yeah, it's not my favorite either. But it’s the most prevalent so you’ll get used to it eventually.”

A-Positive was a step up, but it was definitely different from the O-Positive, and going in knowing they were two different blood types made the whole notion of different flavors start to make sense in Josh’s head.

His first sip of B-Positive, however, was the game changer. His eyes went wide and he went in for a second helping immediately, loving the bright and fresh taste.

You rested your chin on your hand, a serene and fond expression was all over your face.

“You like that one?”

He turned to you and smiled, “oh yeah this one is the best so far. There’s kind of a kick to it but in a good way?”

You glanced at the type he had in his hand, “B-Positive, huh? Noted.”

Josh made his way down the flight, stopping at A-Negative, remembering it was your favorite. He could see why you liked it so much, and your words that first night in the Den made sense to him now, and he made sure to tell you that.

“Ok…I get it now,” he said as he sipped on the A-Negative.

“I told you!” You laughed.

It was when he got to the second to last glass, B-Negative, that his face scrunched up and he quickly put it back down.

“No…definitely not that one.”

“B-Negative is one of those either you love it or hate it, I’ve never really cared for it myself.”

“So it's like the Merlot of blood?”

You had a very limited understanding of human wine, and you blankly stared at him.

“Is Merlot bad?”

“It’s not great.”

“Oh well then yes I could see that.”

Finally he was at the last glass, AB-Negative, and as soon as he drank it he recognized it. The girl he fed from at Dimitri’s tasted the same, or at least very close to it.

“I’ve…I’ve had this before,” he said softly.

You remembered the girl from his first feed and it clicked for you too, “Dimitri did love the rare types. I think it's some sort of status thing.”

Josh nodded before going back for the B-Positive glass and downing the rest in one gulp. Even with the loud music, he could still hear your soft laugh float towards him.

“Ok ok, Boy Scout, we’ll get you some more,” you said before flagging down your server from earlier.

~!~

Jake kept stealing glances at Lou, who was silently watching a baseball game on the TV mounted on the wall. He sat on the same barstool every time he came in, ordered the same drink (double whiskey with a splash of O Positive, or a double O Positive with a splash of whiskey, depending on the night), and minded his business. He had been a regular for at least two decades now, and even knew CiCi’s father before he died. He wasn’t the only Vampire to show up at the bar, but he was the most consistent. Jake wasn’t sure how “old” he truly was, just that he still looked to be in his early twenties. Regardless of his appearance, CiCi would warmly call him ‘Old Man’ in conversation with the same reverence one would give a grandparent.

The first night Jake showed up at the bar, a little over a year ago, he didn’t make a good first impression with Lou. Mainly because he tried to kill him, but CiCi had put a cork in that quickly. Thankfully, Lou didn’t take it personally, and just went back to his drink. Ever since that night Jake hadn’t really gone out of his way to talk to him, but he was cordial to him when he needed to be.

But Jake looked at him differently now. Different in the sense that when he looked at Lou drain a glass of O Positive, he saw his own brother. He had been back in Tucson for about three days now, and he hadn’t spoken of Josh at all. They had exchanged a few texts here or there, but they were just letting the other know where they were in their travels. Josh had sent him a few regular texts, asking Jake how he was, and a few photos of Chicago, but Jake hadn’t answered them yet. He couldn’t pretend everything was normal. He couldn’t pretend that Josh was just on a roadtrip with his girlfriend and seeing different cities. No, the truth was that Josh and said girlfriend were both Vampires now, and were being paraded around different Blood Dens to draw in business. It was so fucking stupid.

Neither Jake or Sam had said anything to their parents yet. Josh had texted both of them that he wanted to be the one to tell them, so they respected that. It helped that they were still busy with whatever they were up to in Canada, but Josh would have to rip the bandaid off soon.

For now, Jake sat in his own girlfriend's bar, trying to make sense of it all.

“You know I can see you looking at me, right,” Lou said after throwing a sideways glance at Jake. Jake’s eyes snapped back to his beer in front of him.

“Sorry.”

“Is there anything I can help you with, son?”

The nerves got to Jake and he blurted out the first thought he had, “when did you get turned?”

Lou’s eyebrows slowly raised in mild surprise, “hi Lou, how are ya, wasn’t on the menu I guess.” He sighed and turned on the barstool to face Jake, “1942.”

Jake nodded, “and how old were you?”

Lou could tell something was deeply bothering Jake, even if the hunter was trying his best not to show it. Jake typically had a haunted look on his face, but he looked even more tormented tonight. “What's this about, Jake?”

“I can’t just try to get to know you?”

“Well I don’t know who taught you social skills, but asking a Vampire about how they were turned isn’t the first thing you bring up. We can be touchy about that subject, depending on who you’re talking to.” He continued to eye Jake curiously.

Jake nodded, and internally argued with himself over what he should do next. Everything was eating away at him and for the first time in his life he didn’t know how to fix it. With a rough exhale, he picked up his beer and hopped off his barstool, moving to the one nearest to Lou.

The Vampire was taken by surprise again as Jake found his new seat. For a few moments, the two sat in awkward silence. Lou only glanced back at the TV when he heard a ball get hit, and cursed to himself when it was caught by the other team. The Cubs had been trailing behind the last 3 innings, and it clearly wasn’t their night.

“I was just…” Jake started, “my brother was, umm…”

Lou knew that Jake wasn’t a bad kid, in spite of his ‘profession’. Over the past year he had seen a gradual change in the hunter, a good one, and he knew that CiCi deserved a lot of the credit. He still didn’t entirely trust him, but he had the CiCi stamp of approval, and that was enough for him. He perked up a little at the mention of Jake’s brother. He knew Jake came from one of those hunter families, but he didn’t know what his immediate family consisted of.

“You have a brother?” He asked, deciding to play along with Jake’s impromptu Q&A.

“Yeah, two actually...”

“Is one of them in trouble or something?”

Jake took a long pull of his beer, stalling to answer, “he was…he still is, I don’t know.”

The distress was all over Jake’s face, and Lou gave him a sympathetic look, “what happened?”

The hunter gritted his teeth, not wanting to say the actual words. He had avoided truly verbalizing the situation since he left Josh’s apartment.

“Hewasturnedintoavampire,” he mumbled his words together.

“...Into a- oh,” Lou replied carefully. Now the sudden interaction made sense.

Jake nodded, not able to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going to ask you how it happened, as I said earlier, it can be a touchy subject,” Lou started, which made Jake’s shoulders relax significantly as he didn’t think he’d be able to tell the whole story. “But I will ask you if he’s ok?”

“I guess…I didn’t see him much before we came back.”

“It’s a lot to adjust to,” Lou took another sip of his drink, “the first few weeks can be rough, especially if you’re alone.”

“He’s not alone, not really. The umm…the Vampire that turned him is kind of his girlfriend,” Jake added.

“Oh? Is she nice?” Lou was even more curious now.

“She’s alright…for a V-,” Jake caught himself before he finished the word.

Lou sighed, “you know, Jake, some of us are actually nice and personable. Sure, there are plenty of murderous bastards among us, but name me a species that doesn’t have any of those.”

Jake’s cheeks reddened, “I-I know, I just…I just never thought that Josh would ever be one of them.”

Lou purposefully ignored the use of the word ‘them’, “I get that. Is he your older, or younger…?

“Older. Well, by five minutes. We’re twins.”

Lou’s eyes softened again, “oh that's tough, son.” It was strange to Jake that someone who looked younger than him called him “son”, but he could tell that Lou wasn’t trying to be patronizing. “How is that going to work with your…family business…”

“I have no fucking idea. Our parents still don’t know.”

“Well, shit.”

Jake nodded in agreement, “yeah.”

Lou looked up at Stacy, the other bartender besides CiCi, “another round for us please, Stace.”

She looked up from the glass she was washing and nodded, making her ponytail bounce in the process. She quickly sat down two fresh glasses in front of them, with Lou’s drink having a darker hue from the added blood. She flashed a grin at Lou, who gave her a shy smile in return.

As Stacy bounced away, Jake mumbled a thanks to Lou. “You looked like you needed it,” he replied softly. The Vampire took a substantial sip from his drink, before turning to the hunter and saying, “it happened when I was shipped out to France.”

“What-“

“When I was turned. It happened in France.”

“I thought it was rude to-“

“I said it’s rude to ask, it’s just a personal decision to share. And I’m sharing,” Lou took another sip of his drink, his eyes seeing all the usual questions forming behind Jake’s eyes. “I was 22, and my unit had stopped in this small village that hadn’t been taken over yet, miraculously. We were only staying for the night, and planned on leaving at dawn. But somehow a few bottles of wine from the village ended up being passed around and we got hammered. But honestly after walking for three straight days we needed it. After a while I needed to piss so I got up and went down the little path we were on, when this stunning, and I mean beautiful, woman appeared out of nowhere at the tree line. I was so drunk I thought she was a mirage or something, but she was real. She asked if I could walk her home, and who was I to say no to that? That’s when she says there was a shortcut through the woods, and I stupidly fell for it. We got maybe a hundred feet or so into the trees, where you couldn’t see the road and no one could see you either…” His voice trailed off as he stared at his drink, his thumb wiping at the condensation absently.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want to…”

As if Lou didn’t even hear Jake’s voice, he continued, “suddenly I was against a tree, this woman’s lips were on my neck, and I thought ‘holy shit how lucky was this?’ But then I felt her teeth, and then I really felt her teeth, and everything went dark soon after that.” He took another swig of his drink, “I kept blacking out, I don’t even remember her giving me her blood to complete the process. ‘Next thing I know is that I’m alone in the woods, extremely disoriented and hungry. But I didn’t know what exactly I wanted.” At this, Lou gave Jake a pointed look, the answer being obvious. He didn’t want to divulge anymore, at least for now.

Jake didn’t know what to say. Lou’s story was the first he had actually heard. Vampire’s backstories were never a priority to learn about growing up. They weren’t supposed to live long enough to even know their names.

Lou broke the silence again, slightly pivoting the subject, “you said his girlfriend turned him?”

“Yeah.”

He raised his eyebrows at Jake, “He’s lucky, you know, to have someone help him through the transition. Most of us don’t get that.”

“I wouldn’t call being forced to be turned ‘lucky’,” Jake grumbled.

“He was forced? By her?” Lou’s brows knitted together in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“No, not by her, but he, uh, pissed off the ‘Council’ and it was either get turned or…death,” Jake gripped his glass a little tighter as he spoke.

Lou made a face at the mention of the Council. He knew enough about them, though he had never dealt with any of the members personally.

“The fucking Council, of course,” he rolled his eyes and took another sip.

As if a dam in his mind had broken, Jake started rambling, “the first time I saw him afterwards, he didn’t look different but he looked different, if that makes any sense. He walked differently? He always stomped around the house growing up with those flat feet of his, but that night I could barely hear his shoes on the floor. I hugged him, and for a few seconds…things felt normal…but I couldn’t just carry on as if nothing had happened. Everyone else in the room as if it was a regular Tuesday night. My other brother was sitting on the couch next to him, asking him question after question as if he had just come back from a stupid vacation. They were all Vampire questions, harmless ones, but even then no one was acknowledging the elephant in the fucking room. Like we weren’t going to talk about the fact that he’s dead now, but he’s not really dead, but he can’t go out into the sun anymore, and-”

The grip Jake had on his glass was getting to the point where he was about to break it, and Lou wisely reached over and wrenched it out of his hand before that could happen.

“Let's not break anything tonight…,” he said as he placed the glass out of Jake’s reach for the time being.

Jake flexed his fingers before setting his hand back down on the bar, his gaze fixed on the wooden surface. His nose twitched, the heat rising in his face and he felt his eyes start to sting. His voice was much softer when he observed, “he has to live off blood now…and that’s it. I know Vampires don’t eat actual food, and he won’t either and…this sounds so stupid but I’ll never be able to share a meal with him again.”

Lou’s face was riddled in sympathy, and his voice was equally as sympathetic, “yes you can, Jake. His plate will just look a little different is all.”

“It’ll just be a glass,” he snarked as a defense mechanism, trying to hide any emotions bubbling up to the surface.

“Then it’ll just be a glass. But he’ll still be there. Sitting with you just like I am right now.”

“What am I supposed to do, stock my fridge with blood bags now just in case he comes over?”

“That would be the courteous thing to do.”

Jake finally looked up at Lou again, “how do you even get blood bags anyway?”

“Would you believe, we Vampires have a delivery service?”

The hunter gave Lou a blank stare, “...what?”

Lou chuckled, “yeah, it's a whole network here in the states. There’s a number to call and they set you up with a schedule if you want it. Instead of the MilkMan showing up at dawn, it's the BloodMan showing up at dusk, leaving a cooler at your door.”

Jake didn’t find it as funny as Lou did, “that’s…different.”

“It's not as popular as you think, most prefer their dinner a little more Rare, as you know. But it’s helpful for the introverts out there.”

“...do you use it?”

“For the most part, but I mainly use it so CiCi can have her own stock on hand. BYOB, as the kids say.”

Jake blinked at him, trying to digest this information.

The Vampire went back to the subject at hand, “But what I’m saying, Jake, is that he’s still your brother, differences and all. It’s a lot, I know, and it won’t be easy to get used to, but being ‘normal’ like you said everyone else was the other night, is exactly what he needs. Don’t treat him differently. It's pretty rare for newly turned Vampires to even see their family again, let alone stay in their lives. You have a gift on your hands and you don’t even know it.”

Jake chewed his lip, he hadn’t thought about it that way.

His voice was soft, nearly a whisper, “I…I want to do all of that, I really do it’s just…I’ve never looked at a Vampire with any other thought than to finish them off as soon as possible. Ever since I saw one for the first time when I was a kid, they’ve just been anonymous monsters that I needed to get rid of.”

“Not to state the obvious, but maybe it’s time you reevaluated that.”

Jake was quiet, trying to absorb it all. But one truth was still lingering in his mind.

“The thing is, even if I stop, I know that Josh is now going to be a target for other hunters out there. Even if he’s good, even if he doesn’t make a mess, keeps his head down, I know some personally that wouldn’t hesitate to-,” he bit his lip hard, not wanting to finish the sentence. “The fact that he was a hunter that was turned, and turned willingly, makes him an even bigger target than just a regular Vampire.”

“To me, it sounds like you’re the perfect person to use this knowledge and to protect him as much as you can. You know how they move, where they go, and whatever tells and patterns they have. Use it to your advantage, remind him to do the same.”

Jake was emotionally drained at this point, but Lou made a great point there.

He nodded, “that makes sense. Umm thanks for the talk, Lou.”

Lou shrugged, “you know where I’m at if you need to talk again.”

Jake nodded again, and hopped off the stool. He wordlessly made his way to the corner of the room where the stairs to the rooms above the bar were. More specifically, where he and CiCi lived. He needed some quiet now, and he needed to think about what he was going to do next in his life, and what that meant for Josh.

~!~

It was your fourth night at the Chicago Den, and true to the itinerary, each subsequent night led to more and more Vampire’s populating the VIP section. Both you and Josh were a little timid at first, but so far everyone had pleasant, even if they were overly curious about Josh. He fielded questions with ease, his natural charm coming out instantly. Everyone still had intact fingers, though every once and awhile you’d make eye contact with your Vampire across the VIP section and pull back one of your fingers just to make him laugh.

His drink of choice now, a tequila and soda with a splash of B-Positive and a lime, was resting in his hand as he listened to a Vampire you couldn’t remember the name of droned on and on about his last trip to the south of France. He was holding his own very well, and you were comfortable enough to not have to be right beside him the whole night. Your own charm carried you around the VIP section, and after asking nicely and batting your eyes at the security guard at the bottom of the steps, you were allowed to follow a few of your new friends out onto the dance floor. It felt so…normal to you. Being surrounded by other Vampires, the various Human Companions, being able to look up and catch your lover’s eye whenever you wanted, in a world that was entirely yours. While the circumstances that led you here were troubling, being able to exist and experience all of this with Josh had you focusing on them less and less.

However, while you were enjoying yourself, the lover in question was getting more and more irritated by the minute. Josh is the last person you’d describe as clingy or even worse, needy. But ever since your night had begun, you had been distracted by nearly everything and everyone else besides him. Mingling with everyone you came into contact with, greeting anyone new and introducing yourself quickly. Swapping stories while you sipped your drink, occasionally making eye contact with him, but otherwise left him to his own devices. Which isn’t a problem, but if he had to hear one more Vampire reminisce over a time period over a hundred years ago he was going to try that finger trick you mentioned on someone.

It was your last night in Chicago, and before dawn the two of you would be whisked away on Dimitri’s jet to your next destination: Seattle. He liked the Chicago Den well enough, but he was ready to see what else was out there.

He looked down at the dance floor, and saw you with a few of your friends. A few of them were old friends from a few decades ago when you were in Chicago last, and some were brand new but you had no problem befriending anyone. A thought briefly ran through his mind, that this was probably how you normally were before you met him. The version of you that wasn’t preoccupied with hunters being in your business, or following you around. The side of you that only other Vampire’s saw, where you were completely relaxed and not worried about protecting a fragile human. It had been a welcomed sight for him, he just wished he wasn’t watching from the sidelines all night.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a very tall man weave his way into the crowd towards you. Josh was instantly on alert, even though he knew you could handle yourself. He mentally cursed that even with his newly heightened sense of hearing he still couldn’t make out what was being said when he saw the man dip his head down to say something in your ear. You turned around excitedly and mouthed the word ‘really’ to the mystery man. Your face lit up as you loosely took a hold of his arm, letting him lead you out of the crowd and back towards the VIP section. What the fuck was going on?

The security guard at the bottom of the steps stopped the both of you, which Josh was grateful for, until you waved your hand at the guard and pointed back at Mystery Man as you said something that Josh still couldn’t make out over the music pumping through the speakers. He drained the last of his drink, and slammed it on the table a little too hard as he stood up, but he didn’t care.

You practically bounced up the stairs, Mystery Man following right behind you.

“Josh, guess what!”

Josh looked at you curiously, his eyes darting back and from between you and your ‘guest’.

“What, sweetheart?”

“So…since it’s our last night in Chicago, Dimitri sent us a…treat…,” your eyes swiveled up to the tall man.

At the risk of asking a stupid question, he said, “What kind of treat?”

You smirked at your Vampire, “…a B-Positive one…”

Josh used every muscle in his face to not show his surprise. He did not want you to pick up on any inkling that he thought there was anything else going on with B-Positive Mystery Man. Nope. He would never live that down with you. Instead he rolled his lower lip into his mouth and raised his eyebrows to play it off.

“I’m Alex,” Mystery Man said while extending his hand out to Josh.

“Josh…,” he replied while shaking his hand. “Dimitri sent you?”

Alex smiled sheepishly and explained, “yeah. I’m kind of a regular around here but I’ve never gotten a call from the boss himself, you know? Couldn’t say no to his opportunity.”

Josh was a little skeptical, but played along, “I get that…”

You wasted no time to pull Alex over to an empty spot on the VIP couch and sat down on his left. Josh followed and sat on the other side of him, and ‘treat’ aside, it still felt too far from you.

“Now Alex, do you have any bite preferences?” You asked brightly.

He turned and smiled at you, “most of the time it's usually the wrists but, you can go for the neck if you want.”

The flirty tone in his voice was so obvious to Josh he had to fight an eye roll, but he silently hoped you’d turn it down. He wasn’t possessive, but you hadn’t fed from anyone’s neck besides him in the last few weeks, and part of him wasn’t ready to share you in that way.

He didn’t have time to unpack whether this was some kind of Vampire social norm he was getting used to, because when he looked up you were nodding and descending towards Alex’s neck while your fangs lowered down.

Alex kept his attention on you while he offered his wrist to Josh, and while he didn’t want to be impolite, Josh also wanted to shove his hand out of the way and walk out of there.

Instead, he let the spite take over. His own fangs popped down a lot faster and harsher than they had previously, and he swiftly brought Alex’s wrist to his lips and bit down with little care. The first thing he noticed about Alex’s blood was how it was almost…minty. He was definitely B-Positive but in the four days he had been in that Den, Josh had had better samples of that type from the bar instead of this human. He looked up to catch a glance at you, while you happily dined on Alex’s neck. Alex himself had his head thrown back against the couch, which only made Josh burn hotter.

Being fed on as a human versus being fed on as a Vampire wasn’t entirely different, but there was something so raw about offering yourself to a Vampire when you’re human. He remembered the first time he feld your fangs bury themselves in his skin, how it stung and burned but you fed from him in such a way that pleasure had rolled through his body within seconds.

Josh continued to feed on Alex for a few more minutes before wrenching his wrist away from his mouth sloppily pricking his finger on his own fangs and healing the wound. He frankly couldn’t give a shit at this point, especially with how you were still latched onto Alex’s neck. Rather petulantly, he sat back with his hands in his lap, waiting for you to finish your “treat.”

After the slowest five minutes of his life, you finally popped off of Alex and quickly wiped away a stray trail of blood from your chin with your thumb.

You looked up as you healed the bite wound with your own blood and saw the hard stare coming from your Vampire. His sudden shift in mood confused you.

“Is something wrong, Boy Sc-”

“Can I talk to you,” he gave a sideways glance at Alex, “alone.”

“I- sure,” and with that he reached over and took your hand, quickly leading you down the stairs and around the security guard, not even glancing back to see how your “treat” reacted.

In every Den there are private rooms, soundproof and lockable for even more privacy. Some Vampire’s were weird about feeding in front of others, or they simply wanted proper alone time with their Human Companions, but Josh wasn’t thinking of their intended purpose now. He quickly weaved through the crowd to get to the back corner, where the private rooms were. The universe was on his side when he saw the door on the far left open, leading to an unoccupied room. He beelined towards it, rushing the two of you inside.

“Josh what the-”

He turned and pushed you against the door, smashing his lips against yours. You let out a squeak in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers went into his hair. His hands moved down to your hips, gripping them through the thin fabric of your dress. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet and your legs locked around his waist.

Clothing was practically ripped off on the way to the lone L-shaped couch in the middle of the room. Your back hit the plush cushions as your Vampire pinned you against them, his lips leaving a hot trail of kisses from your mouth down to the base of your neck. You weren’t complaining by any means, but you were curious as to why he had this sudden change in mood. Nothing felt wrong, but it was decidedly different from the norm.

“J-Josh…wait a second,” you let out an airy laugh as you pulled his head from the crook of your neck to be above you, cradling his square jaw.

He looked down at you, eyes dark and unblinking, “what?”

You didn’t want to seem clueless, but you were truly at a loss, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he quipped before giving the other side of your neck attention.

“Yes you do,” you whispered in his ear.

He turned his head slightly and ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “I can’t just love on my girl?”

Your retort was cut off when you felt his hand snake between you and start gliding through your folds, his thumb circling your clit while his other fingers dipped into your entrance. A loud gasp escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, and you felt him chuckle against your neck.

“You were saying, Sweetheart?”

He curled his fingers inside you, teasing all the right spots, causing you to clench around him and dig your nails into his back.

But as soon as you started to feel that delicious build up in your core his fingers left you.

“JOSH!” you yelled out in frustration.

“Turn around…,” he whispered as he lifted off of you.

You stared at him for a second before doing what he told you. Slowly you rolled over on your stomach, your back to him now. His hands reached for your hips once again but this time pulled them roughly off the couch, the skin on your knees burning slightly from the sudden movement. You rested your weight on your hands as you looked over your shoulder at him.

His eyes were even darker then they were before, and they were gazing down your back as he slowly pumped himself. Deciding to play along, you faced forward, and rested your elbows on the arm of the couch. You felt the head of his cock move through your folds, dipping down to your clit before traveling back up to your entrance. Josh was mumbling behind you, words you couldn’t even make out as he slowly started pushing inside you.

You hissed at the stretch, and when he reared back and surged forward to bottom out you didn’t even try to muffle the strangled sound that flew from your mouth. His nails dug into the skin of your hips as he set a brutal pace.

Josh stared down at where you were joined, not wanting to take his eyes off the sight. He quickly got lost in you, the sounds you were making, the way you were clenching around him, the sheer warmth of you, the fact that you were his. At a particularly hard thrust he threw his head back and noticed what was on the ceiling: a massive mirror. His eyes became fixed at the reflection, where he could see more of your face, down your spine, to where he was pounding into you.

He started mumbling again, but this time you were able to make out at least a few words out: mine, all mine. That's when it clicked. His attitude for most of the night, his reaction to Alex that he tried to hide, and why he pulled out into this room as soon as he could. Your Boy Scout was jealous. This was a side of him that you hadn’t seen very often, if at all at this point, but it made you turn your head completely away from him once more to smirk at yourself where he couldn’t see. Now you could fully play along.

Looking back over your shoulder again, you saw him slack jawed staring at the mirror on the ceiling, his eyes rolled back in his head.

“...am I yours, Josh?” you baited.

A harsh growl was made in the place of words, accompanied by another hard thrust. He was getting close, and both of you knew it. He pulled you backwards, gathering you toward him so that your back was flush with his front, his breath coming out in puffs against your neck.

This time he made no mistake with his words, whispering them directly into your ear.

“Mine…all mine…”

You turned your head to capture his lips with yours, letting him know that he was absolutely correct. Your hand tangled in his hair to hold him in place as your tongue swirled in his mouth and ran along his teeth, his fangs clearly present.

He continued his fast pace as one of his hands held your hip while the other snaked around your front and made its way to your clit. You cried out against his mouth, and he took this moment to bite down on your lower lip, relishing in the sounds you were making. Neither of you cared how loud you were being, or how the sound of skin slapping against skin rang throughout the room. Your end came hurtling towards you, quickly sending you over the edge and shaking in his arms.

He couldn’t hold back any longer himself, and just as he teetered on the edge he drove his fangs into the flesh of your neck. Letting the welcomed taste of you be the final act he needed before spilling inside you. His hand continued to work you through yours as his thrusts became uneven and started to slow. All he could feel, see, and hear was you. Even the memory that was shown to him at the taste of your blood was you all by yourself, sitting at your vanity touching up your lipstick in the mirror. The decor and dress you were wearing suggested the twenties, but the memory went dark before he could take in more details. He lifted his fangs from your skin as you both came down from your highs. Slowly he withdrew from you, the loss of your warmth making him hiss slightly.

You turned around to fully look at him, and his arms wrapped around your waste, not wanting to let you go just yet. The both of you rested there for a few moments, enjoying the sudden silence.

Eventually you brought your hand to his face, rubbing your thumb into his cheek.

“I’ll always be yours, Boy Scout,” you whispered.

He still didn’t look you in the eyes quite yet, the realization he had acted out of pure jealousy causing his cheeks to redden.

“I know…,” he said so softly you barely heard him.

“I’m not even going to remember Alex after tonight anyway,” you reassured him.

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t just him.”

“Oh?”

“I…just missed you tonight,” he finally looked up and met your eyes, his dark brown irises full of sincerity.

“I’m sorry if I get a little caught up out there, it’s been a while-”

He cut you off, “no you don’t have to apologize, you were having fun and you deserve to.”

“Next time, just come get me, push people out of the way if you have to. People will get over it.” You gave him a sweet kiss against his lips for reassurance. “Now…my turn…,” you grinned wickedly as you took this moment to properly pounce on your Vampire, toppling him onto the couch.

~!~

Many rounds and hours later, you were both back at the hotel. The sun was about to rise, and the black out curtains were preemptively shut. Sleep quickly overtook you, and while you began to snooze, Josh peered down at you, loving the way you cuddled up to him as you slept.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, alerting him of a text. He looked over at the screen and saw Jake’s name at the top.

Jake: is this a good time?

Josh typed out a response: sure

He was expecting another text, but instead his twin called him directly.

“Hello?”

“Josh? Are you about to go to sleep? I can call back later if you-”

“No no it's fine, what's up?”

“I just wanted…how’s Chicago?” The tone in his voice sounded tight, as if he was unsure what to say.

“It’s been pretty great, man. Not a bad place to start at all.”

“That's good, I’m glad. How is…how is she?”

Josh was starting to get confused at the sudden small talk, “what’s this about, Jake?

“It’s not about anything, I promise, I just…wanted to see how you were.”

Josh looked back down at your sleeping form, fully knocked out at this point and beginning to snore slightly on his chest.

“She’s good, Jake, really good. How’s CiCi?”

Now it was Jake’s turn to look down at his girl, who was also still fast asleep beside him.

“She’s CiCi, incredible as always.” Jake paused before asking what was truly on his mind, “I just have a question…and I’m not trying to start anything I promise I just…what made you do it?”

“Do what, Jake?”

“Choose to be turned instead of-”

“Instead of death, Jake?”

Jake quietly answered, “yeah.”

“They were going to have her Meet the Sun, Jake. In front of me. I couldn’t let that happen.” The emotion he felt while sitting in Dimitri’s study crept up on him, as did the vision he had had of her burning in front of him.

“You must think a lot of her, then.”

Josh could tell what Jake was trying to do, in his own way.

“I love her, Jake.”

There was silence on Jake’s end, but he cut it off by saying, “does she feel the same?”

Josh drew patterns on your bare shoulder as he answered, “she absolutely does.”

Jake tried to angle his phone away from his face to hide the sniff he made as he took in this information, but Josh heard it anyway.

“Can I ask you a question now, Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“What was the first thing you noticed about CiCi?”

Jake was caught off guard now, not expecting this turn in the conversation. However, he instantly knew the answer.

“Her laugh. I had only been in her bar for about 5 minutes before I heard the most beautiful sound coming from across the room. She was making small talk with some customers and the way she commanded attention without even trying…I was mesmerized.”

Josh smiled, having not known this little fact before, “and did it sound almost familiar to you?”

“I suppose so?”

“That’s how I felt the night I met my girl, Jake. The familiarity.”

“Really?”

“She was supposed to be a target, just a target, just a job. But when I walked into that bar that night, and saw her sitting in the corner, there was something about her. I knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time, that she wasn’t going to be just a job. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew she was going to be something to me. I’ve never looked at a Vampire and felt that way before, and you of all people know that.”

Jake nodded, “I’m umm…I’m glad you found someone, Josh. I mean that.”

Josh smiled softly, “I appreciate that, and I’m glad you did too.”

There was another silence between the brothers, but this was a comfortable one.

“I don’t mean to keep you up, I know the sun should be rising about now…”

“No it's ok, it’s good to hear from you, man. Call whenever you want.”

“I will…talk to you soon…”

“Talk to you soon, Jake.”

Jake hung up the phone and put it down before settling back into bed next to CiCi.

“...so, my laugh, huh?” She mumbled as she turned over to look at him.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” she said before tracing the outline of his nose with her finger.

Jake playfully rolled his eyes before gathering her in his arms, “go back to sleep.”

“Gladly.”

To be continued….

Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze ,

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #i see hell in your eyes #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x oc #enemies to lovers #slow burn #josh gvf #jake gvf #greta van fleet #my fics #my writing #🩸🖤

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someone-took-lost · 3 months

Text

the almighty queen of sun and her,,, loyal consort?

queen celestine imperious light of the equestrian western empire has been known as her the source of all power for centuries. her reign as empress expanded over various times and spaces, as she conquered to maintain her power, and establish herself as a rightful ruler. with the help of the idea that her claim to rulership is her divine status.

over the years, celestia has very few times ever taken up a true lover. she’s fallen in love, broken her heart, adopted children and seen them group up into ponies she’s proud of. and perhaps even had a child or two. but one thing that’s always been consistent through her years, is the loss of those she loved most. even her sister over time grew distant to her presence. and this began to break a part of her ,,,

one of her long time lovers in the past, known now as starswirl serenade, grandson of the great starswirl the bearded, was a pony she grew terribly fond of. they’d devoted quite a lot of each other to each of each others presences. and the two could hardly recall a time in which they didn’t miss the feeling of being near the other. they laughed together , joked of his grandfather’s harsh teachings and remarks.

perhaps at some point they’d had formally married, but time always takes its toll. and serenade passed in his sleep from an illness he couldn’t quite shake.

devastated , it was not recalled whether the queen ever took another lover. not for a long time at least. in that time though, there were rumours of a deity taking notice of the goddess, and the two slowly falling in love as they’d perhaps found comfort in each others consistent presences. but as the seasons change, as do the people around us. and this affair became infrequent as well.

though discord was a returning lover that the queen could call upon , they both knew the draconeques was not meant to live a life of settling. he was meant to change with the tide, and as such, he would disappear frequently. and soon enough, even he was gone in the blink of an eye too when his antics became worsened.

and just as she caught her breath, her sister in arms as well vanished from view.

the castle soon became,,, vacant.

as were the halls.

as were the streets.

and it all just felt ,,, so

lonely.

she’d become so lonely.

celestia craved the presence, the warmth and loving appearance of the ponies she held closest in the world. and with all the studies of new magic developing, surely she’d find her answer now. so she began to pour over shelves, delve herself into studies of history and reanimating. and after some years went by, ponies began to notice the appearance of a blue unicorn trotting by the side of the queen herself.

it was an affair that seemed to have happened over night. but the empress had seemingly reawakened a romantic love from a slumber of loneliness. and only months went by before she declared a wedding be held between her and her found sweetheart, starswirl spectacle. a descendant of the mighty wizard.

the event was grand, a celebration that the two could only wish would last forever. a renewed smile from the empress, and a soft grin from the dark unicorn. all the while though, a shadow seemed to lurk in the presence of this unicorn. a shadow that always seemed to have eyes on the pair, that burned a sinking feeling that wouldn’t vanish.

#princess celestia #celestia #star swirl serenade #discord #mlp #mlp fim #my little pony #my little pony fan art #my little pony friendship is magic #my little pony next generation #my little pony next gen #mlpfim #art #artwork #digital art #digital illustration #illustration

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livfastdieyoung69 · 5 months

Note

ID LIKE TO REQUEST SOMETHING LIV‼️‼️‼️ if i can 😭

maybe jeff with an oblivious reader or the other way around? whatever u think…. And then maybe Matt and Lita are like “THIS IS GETTING ON MY NERVES” or some shit?????!!!!

ur da best!

AN UNSUSPECTING LOVER

The adrenaline after a match always made your head pound and your body jittery. Especially for the likes of Y/N, who pushed through the curtain with a limp and a gleaming smile from the praise of backstage staff. They were quick to ask for the nearest source of water which, for some reason, was only in catering. Out of breath and truly now deperate for water- because why would they only have it in catering and have catering like, five miles away from the gorilla?? Either way, Y/N, walked into catering with an agitated sigh and finally reached their prized water.

Half way through their water bottle, Y/N heard familiar laughter from behind them. Turning around and taking the plastic bottle from their lips, they were quick to find Team Xtreme who had very clearly been watching them.

“Oh, hey guys!” Now, out of breath from chugging the much aforementioned water, they greeted the three with a grin while moving over to the table they were seated at. Lita returned their cheerful hello from her place in between the boys and Matt gave Y/N a smile across the table.

“Hi, n/n.” Jeff looked up at them leaning into the vacant chair next to him, love sick expression too obvious to everyone but them.

��Hi, Jeff.” They repeated, voice as sweet as can be and grin growing cheekier. “Oh, did you see my match?” They leaned in closer to him, giving his arm a -unfortunately, for Jeff- friendly swat. “I tried to do a Swanton variation thing, was it any good?”

“It was great, I loved it! Everything you do’s perfect, wouldn't have expected any less.” Matt scoffed at the infatuated boy and Lita swatted at him- a lot less nice than y/n had done to Jeff.

“Oh, you’re too sweet!” They moved even closer, hand gently landing on his shoulder at his compliment. “Well, I’m gonna get going, I gotta shower. But I’ll see you guys!” As they walked away, Lita quickly turned to Jeff with wide eyes, expecting something from him. But he only sat and watched their leaving form.

“Jeff! You were supposed to ask them out!” She stressed, exasperated.

“Oops.” He mumbled from behind his hand of the arm he had propped up against the back of his chair, eyes never leaving y/n.

“God, I am so sick of this! Matt, give him some advice, how’d you ask me out?”

“Uh, I just kinda kissed you.”

“And then?” Lita egged him on.

“And then you told me we were going on a date..” At Matt’s quiet confession, Lita pushes up from her chair, hands slamming against the table.

“You guys are so useless, I have to do everything around here! Why can’t you just come out and say that you like them instead of looking at them like a little love sick puppy all the time!”

“Lita, I really have been trying everything. I even did the whole hand size comparison thing you told me to do! Y/n’s just..not into me.” Jeff sunk into his chair as he spoke before hearing a scoff at the table next to them to find Billy Gunn, who had turned away from his conversation with a couple other people waiting for the night to end.

“Yeah, right. Do you not see the way that kid looks at you? Plus, one time Hunter asked them out and they said no- ‘cause they were goin’ out with you that night- but they would love to hang out some other time. Y/n’s just a little oblivious sometimes, you gotta put it right in their face.” Billy turned back to his prior conversation, leaving Jeff to swallow all of that. Lita, still very frustrated let out an angry groan.

“Well, if you know all that and still won’t do anything, then I’ll do this myself too!”

“Yeah, Jeff, shes gonna do it herself.” Matt smuggly told his brother, kicking his feet into Lita’s abandoned chair. Jeff glared over at him, before quickly leaving his seat and following after Lita.

Jeff had easily found Lita- banging on your locker room door. Jeff tried to pull her away before you heard, but the door opened just as he reached her.

“What? What’s the matter?” Y/n stressed, wrapped in a towel and dripping wet. Jeff drew in a breath and quickly flushed, turning away from the door but Lita quickly turned him back and grabbed him by the bicep.

“He’s got something to tell you.” Lita spoke as she looked over at him, raising her eyebrows with expectancy and shoved him into the room, almost into y/n, before quickly making her exit.

“So, whattaya gotta tell me?” Y/n asked, a little uncomfortable from the semi-wet clothes stuck to their body after rushing to get dressed.

Jeff shifted nervously, eyes moving around the room to meet anything but y/n, taking a quick breath before finally spitting it out.

“I really like you, n/n. Um, a lot.”

“Oh. Well, I like you too!” Y/n answered, their smile shining bright. Jeff smiled softly at them, all nerves leaving him.

“You do?”

“‘Course I like you, you’re my best friend!” Jeff couldn’t help but let out a short laugh at their explanation, his head falling and hand coming to rub at his temples. “What’s wrong? Did I say something bad?”

“No, sweetheart. I meant-“ He couldn’t help but burst into sweet laughter again, looking up at them. “I meant in a romantic way. I want to go out with you, and kiss you, and spend long, peaceful nights with you.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s voice was soft, face burning from a bit of embarrassment but also from Jeff’s endearing words. “I didn’t- I didn’t think you were into me like that.”

“Is it okay that I am?” His voice turned soft too. He stepped forward, softly grasping their forearm. Y/n’s hand moved to touch his arm too, the room filled with a tension much better than the anxiety it held earlier.

“It’s perfect. Is it okay I’m into you like that?” Soft voices turning to whispers, adoration burning further in their close proximity. His thumb smoothed over their skin, grasping a bit firmer, but still very softly. His other hand moved up, taking place on their cheek.

“That's all I could ever ask for.”

y/n is very much sunshine in this, dont know y ig i just felt like it but either way yippee!! this was fun to write and a lil corny but i love making mr jeffro a lover boy also dont know where the water bottle obsession came from I just ran with it after I wrote it (a bit of an unconscious solitude reference perhaps?) also Lita is a girlboss

the first bit of this was very fun to write while staring at that pic teehee he is so silly and u are so amazing rita <33 thank you for requesting 😽😽

and my tumblr is fr actually fully functioning rn so it let me do the little keep reading thing!! it never appears up on my computer for whatever reason but this did take me like an hour to reread bc im watching one of my fav streamers and kept getting distracted so I really didn’t reread it very well tbh

#liv writes;*!#jeff hardy x reader #lita #jeff hardy #matt hardy #billy gunn #(just for a lil bit but he is there!)#wwe #wwf #aew #jeff hardy imagine #i luv him #(and i luv rita 2)#sorry this is so short :((

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oftenwantedafton · 5 months

Text

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 4-6

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - mental health issues, no explicit content in these chapters

Also available on AO3 Chapter 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter 4 ~ the interview ~

Steve Raglan recognizes you.

It’s the strangest thing; when you’re first guided into his office, his welcoming voice is pleasantly neutral until he looks up from the paperwork on his desk and then the words of greeting trail off weakly. His eyes widen slightly behind the lenses of gold rimmed glasses, his lashes lifting briefly before they drop down once more. You’re convinced he’s definitely seen you before, though you can’t imagine where. The middle aged man doesn’t look familiar to you at all.

“Welcome, have a seat.” He recovers smoothly, gesturing at a vacant chair across from him.

You sit down, setting your backpack by your feet.

The bearded man opens a folder and glances at its contents, his eyes alternating between the pages and your face, his fingers tapping along the paper surface, as if he’s cataloguing something. The awkward silence lengthens and then he speaks again as if there’s been no lull. “So, I’ve got your contact information here. I understand you’re interested in a job at Freddy’s.”

You nod. “What positions are available?”

The career counselor spreads his fingers out. He talks a lot with his hands, you notice immediately; the long, well manicured fingers constantly in motion, punctuating each utterance. “Well, it really depends on where your interests lie and what your abilities are. The remodeling and construction will be done during the first couple of months, then training starts for the employees. We’re looking to get up and running by next spring.”

“We?”

“More accurately myself. Just speaking formally in the third person. I’m the sole proprietor.”

You blink in surprise. “You own it?”

“Yes.” He eases back into the swivel chair, slowly tapping a pen against his palm, studying your face. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“Um, I’m a senior. I turned eighteen this past summer.”

“References?”

“I babysit a lot. I’ve worked at a clothing store in the mall.”

“Experience with a cash register and with children, those are pluses.” He leans forward and marks something down on the paper in your folder. “Do you have a reliable source of transportation?”

“I typically walk everywhere or ride my bike, but my neighbor’s son is going away for college next year and he’s going to sell me his. That’s what I’ve been saving up for.”

“Potentially an issue with inclement winter weather in the near future, but I understand the mayor is planning on reinstating public transportation to the area, so…” Another mark. “What about your future goals? Plans for college? Do you see this as something temporary, or were you thinking about long term?”

Overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, you find yourself stammering your reply. “I…I’m not sure yet. I want to go, I’m just undecided about a major.”

Steve reaches for a glass dish set on the corner of his desk filled with hard candy, selecting one and making short work of the wrapper before popping it into his mouth.

“Help yourself.” He gestures to the sweets and you choose one, thinking it might be rude to decline, but don’t unwrap it yet.

You can hear the confectionery knocking against the man’s teeth as he rolls it with his tongue. “What would you say is your strongest subject in school? What are some of your hobbies?”

You fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie. “I don’t really excel at anything in particular. I enjoy English Literature and Art. I like writing and drawing.”

Raglan nudges the frames sliding down his nose absently, his gaze intent on your face. “What sorts of things do you write and draw?”

You shrug uncomfortably. You’re not used to talking about your interests with other people; not really used to anyone taking an interest at all. For a fleeting moment the yellow rabbit crosses your mind. “I do a lot of journaling. Drawing…I like animals, nature…I enjoy building models too….a bunch of different stuff, I guess,” you conclude lamely.

The older man hums thoughtfully, the pen now slack between his fingers, teeter tottering either end against the halfway filled page. “How would you describe yourself?” He begins to read off a list: “Motivated? Outgoing? Energetic? Team player?” He frowns, dropping the pen and focusing his attention on you. “I really hate these generic questionnaires. Just tell me in your own words. If you had to pick one word to describe yourself.”

“I…I guess I’m pretty introverted. I don’t really get along with people my own age.” You realize you’re not doing much to sell yourself for employment at a party themed restaurant and you hastily add, “I’m interested in the animatronics. I mean, I could do waitressing or food prep or whatever, but the behind the scenes stuff is what I’m really curious about,” you admit, surprising yourself. You’d never really given it much thought before now.

Steve abruptly leans forward, the motion reminding you of a cat pouncing on its prey. “Are you? Tell me more about that.”

“I don’t know. I want to understand how they function, I guess. Construction, maintenance. Everything. Not that I’m qualified for that, I know; but I’d be willing to learn.”

“A lot of engineering relies on the ability to think in the abstract. Piece together connections that aren’t immediately visible to the naked eye. Kind of like solving a puzzle but in three dimensions.”

You nod. “That’s what I find appealing.”

The diluted blue topaz irises continue to hold your gaze. “How interesting. Still waters run deep.”

You frown, puzzled.

“It means there’s more to you than meets the eye, basically. Quiet, withdrawn individuals tend to be grossly misunderstood.” He lifts the paper and slides in back inside the Manila folder. You hear the last dregs of the candy surrender to his teeth, crushed and pulverized between them. “You won’t be working at the front end. It would be an absolute waste of everyone’s time.”

“So…what does that mean?”

“Plan your schedule around having some afternoons and evenings busy by spring.”

“That’s it? I’m hired?”

His lips twitch, almost but not quite forming a smile. “Welcome on board.”

Chapter 5 ~ a warning ~

The front door of the pizzeria is no longer boarded up.

You slow your pace as you draw closer, cautiously studying the building, but you see no other signs that anything has been disturbed. You cup your hand and seat it against the glass front, trying to shield your eyes from the glare behind you to peer inside the restaurant. You can vaguely make out an archway just past the hostess’s podium, a checkerboard patterned floor, and a row of empty fifty cent prize machines, the candy and stickers and plastic toys long gone.

Your hand drifts down to rest on the door handle and you hesitate before pulling, not entirely expecting it to be unlocked, but the door swings open easily. It slams behind you after you venture inside, startling you.

The establishment’s interior is dim.

The light from outdoors can only reach so far. You hesitate on the verge of the dining room, eyes roving over the booths and tables. You can just barely see the curtained stage at the far end of the room, where the animatronics perform, now closed off from view by the heavy drapes.

“So you’ve returned.”

You jump again, heart thumping, head swiveling to find the source of the sound.

The yellow rabbit emerges from the shadows at the far end of the room, that tall figure weaving between the seating arrangements as if it is intimately acquainted with their placement. He stops with some distance still between you, leaning against a booth with a stained glass image of the restaurant’s lead mascot, folding his arms. The lit eyes are brighter today.

“You unbarred the door, right? Thank you.”

“No rain today. What’s the excuse this time? Or were you so charmed by our first conversation?” He sounds bemused, as if he’s enjoying some private joke.

“I…I came to tell you. They’re reopening the restaurant. So you should probably find somewhere else to stay.”

He laughs. “Child, I do not live here. And I’m well aware that it’s being restored to its former glory. Is that really what you came here for?”

You flush. “I’m not a child.”

“Barely past it.”

“I was trying to be nice. I thought I should warn you.”

The rabbit’s head tips thoughtfully. “You were genuinely concerned, weren’t you? Then I apologize for my abrasiveness. If it seems I’m ungrateful, it’s because I don’t have the opportunity to interact with others much. He does not let me out often.”

You frown but the strange creature does not elaborate.

“I’ve been hired to work here,” you say to break the sudden silence.

“And what will you be doing?”

“Working on the animatronics.”

“Interesting.” One steel cased finger taps along the forearm of the suit and something in the movement feels strangely familiar.

“Will you…will you be here? When the place reopens?”

You swear the figure is smiling now, impossible to see in the confines of the headpiece but oddly palpable in his speech. “Of course. I always come back.”

Chapter 6 ~ reflection~

The bathroom sink is full of water, the steady drops from the faucet into the plugged basin amassing into a clear pool inside the porcelain bowl.

William Afton stares at that liquid surface, at the ripples that disturb the calm with each drop, and he thinks about who he once was: a husband, a father. A successful business owner. An innovator. And how quickly those marked successes in life had been taken away one by one. How he’d exacted revenge for those losses, little by little, paid in blood.

He bends and plunges his hands into the cool water and splashes it over his face, as if can wipe away that identity so easily. Looking up at the mirrored medicine cabinet, the reflection there is the man he has been masquerading as, this Steve Raglan, Career Counselor. How tiresome the charade is, but needs must. It won’t be for much longer. Construction has proceeded ahead of predicted schedule. He’ll be able to start the employee training soon. He’d gotten a good response from the high school students. Cheap labor. A wise, economical decision he’d learned early on.

He blinks past the rivulets of water trickling over his face and it’s the yellow rabbit’s features he sees, the ravaged mascot staring back at him.

“That’s not why you chose her.”

William scowls. “Why did you let her back inside? Anyone could have gotten in.”

“No one did. No one has come near there for a long, long time.”

“She did.”

“That was incidental.”

“The first visit, maybe. Not the second time. She wanted to see you. She likes you.”

The rabbit shakes his head, his counterpart reflection doing the same. “She’s just a child.”

“On the verge of being an adult.”

The suited mascot leans closer, William’s own face now inches from the silvered surface. “She’s broken.”

“So am I.”

He laughs, the soft sound growing louder as it shakes free, the image in the mirror shifting back to the bearded’s man damp features.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #springtrap #fnaf fanfic #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf movie

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seneon · 3 months

Note

SPILL SENATION LORE

ok.

ONCE UPON A TIME... there was a mighty king who ruled over nations, especially the senation. the king's name is sen. king sen is well respected and a powerful ruler who is also a very kind king. king sen has a white horse named uh tiramisu (im eating tiramisu rn) and tiramisu is his greatest friend.

the people of senation love and admire king sen a lot, they worship him even. for his success has brought them a good life. then a war came, and his majesty has to partake in this war to fight for the kingdom, so he summoned his greatest knights to join him in battle.

source: knights of the round table, fgo. idk the artist

so together as one community, they set out for the war against the kyoghuries nation.

in the end, kyoghuries nation suffered a great lost. for once again, king sen conquered another nation. he received a new name, and that is conquering sen. fear him, mortals!

after the war, king sen decided his knights and him have a break. thus they travelled around the world back to their kingdom. when the king decided to explore the woods for some food, he came across a damsel in distress. a beautiful woman tied to a tree. so he helped her to be free. what a glorious and helpful king.

"𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖉𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊..?" king sen asked as the lady replied with a "𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆, 𝒔𝒊𝒓."

"𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊, 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊!"

"𝒐𝒉, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒋𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒚!!"

"𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝖒'𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖞..?" the king took the woman's hands in his and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hands as she blushed. "𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒚. 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒋𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉."

"𝖎 𝖘𝖊𝖊. 𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞 𝖆 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖊 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖏𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖞𝖋𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖉𝖔𝖒."

so then, the king invited the princess to stay with him for the entire journey as he will be sending her back to the jellyfish kingdom on their way to senation. tiramisu neighs in delight of a new friend. neigehheheh

but in reality, they have fallen in love (😱). but unfortunately, their fates will not match. they are to be betrothed to other royals. so they could only enjoy each others presence for a while. princess ray is to be married to prince kalo in a few weeks and the king is to remain vacant until he receives answer for proposing to princess noo from noomon kingdom to which, there has been no answers yet.

sometimes romance wasn't meant to be. anyways, the king safely sent the princess back before making some grand promises then he journeys back to his own kingdom.

"long live king sen!!!!" the crowd cheers at the return of their king, once again mighty and righteous. indeed, long live king sen, for he shall live forever.

𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖓.

the end.

STARRING. @seneon @httpshujii @tojiluv @milyz @adeliebae @saewako @itonashi @m1-ka29 @kyoghurts @yuquinzel @rninies @anqelically @hyoismbbg @okkalo @noomon

notes. this is nonsense btw 💀 sorry anon

lore part two

#⋆ ❨ voice ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟#senation lore 🆙🆙#involving my #⋆ ❨ sennies ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟

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bubblespalace · 4 months

Text

The Accords (Reader Insert Version)

Chapter Four

“(Y/N)!”

Fuck you had to get up.

Nine-year-old you pressed your hand on the floor and tried to push yourself up, but the bloody slash on your stomach caused you to feel weak against your captor. “Watch your friend die and we'll make everything less painful, okay little one?” The man over you crooned.

You foolishly turned your head, capturing the eyes of the girl you had known since you were five, your oldest friend. Victoria was tied down to a hospital bed in the laboratory they had been stuck in, a machine attached to her, sucking out her blood. Her eyes cried out in pain and tears to her as she bled out, her life slowly being pulled out of her while she was still breathing. “(Y/N), please…” She wept, her normally cocky personality gone with the wind.

You looked up at the man keeping you pinned to the ground with pleading eyes. “She doesn't deserve this! Please! Take me instead!” You tasted your own blood in your mouth, a metal-like taste. The tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

The men in the room laughed, a horrible sound to your ears. “Oh, but we are taking the both of you. Your blood sells, Morganstern.”

“Don't call me Morganstern. My name is Wayland.” You grit your teeth, whimpering when you heard Victoria scream out in pain.

He leaned down and told you in a hushed voice. “Keep telling yourself that, Morganstern, you’ll always be related to him..”

Your gaze snapped to Victoria as she wailed out in pain once more before going limp on the bed, her blue eyes wide open and vacant. “Vic!” You screamed, in disbelief she was gone. Victoria didn't move, didn't spit out a witty remark, didn't blink.

It was all your fault.

The man pulled you up by her hair, and you obeyed, knowing the consequences if you didn't. “Now, ready for your treatment, Morganstern?”

The vampires around the room all smirked at you, baring their teeth.

☉

You awoke from your dream of your past in a gorgeous parlor room, you were laid down on the velvet blue couch, and a fire was roaring from the fireplace, warming the colder room. You whimpered, believing you were alone so you could show pain or discomfort, and slowly sat up straight.

“Nfu~ Bitch-chan number two is finally awake.” You softly gasped in surprise and turned your head toward the source of the voice. He was, of course, gorgeous, but now that you knew everyone here was probably a vampire, you knew why. Vampires had to be attractive to get their prey.

He looked a lot like the man at the gas station, same emerald green eyes with only slightly lighter red hair. The eyes he had seemed more playful, however, while the others had seemed more demanding and bossy. You couldn't help but wonder if they were closely related. He was wearing a fedora with a red ribbon tied around it, and he had a small mole on the right side of his mouth that seemed to enhance his natural beauty. His school uniform had two buttons at the top undone, probably to show off his chest a bit, and his tie was loosely knotted. God, you couldn't help but think it sucked that Nephilim were unable to date vampires and other Downworlders. All of them were so attractive, especially these men, but The Accords outlawed it because The Clave wants Shadowhunter babies, not any other race. It was understandable since Shadowhunter's population was low, but it was horrible how you couldn't marry or date who you fell in love with.

This vampire man inched closer to you, a suggestive smirk on his face. “Does the new Bitch-Chan speak? Kanato told me you only understood English.” He had a very cruel tone when taunting that some might have mistaken for flirting.

You scooted back a bit, uncomfortable under his stare. You have always been attracted to eyes, it's one of the first features you noticed, but you felt oddly uncomfortable under the eyes of anyone but Nephilim and loved ones. “I don't only understand English, I speak some other languages, but I have a name, you know.”

The unnamed man chuckled, grinning widely and showing off his fangs. He had cute little dimples on either side of his mouth. “What is it, Bitch-Chan? Whatever it is, I'll keep calling you Bitch-Chan too.” He winked at you teasingly.

You scowled, staring into his eyes with your (E/C) ones. “It's (Y/N), and you'll use my name, bloodsucker.” You attempted to stand, straightening Yourself up before your legs collapsed underneath you. You started to fall to the carpeted floor with a yelp, but this man caught you in his arms.

His grip felt very secure and safe, his arms wrapped around your waistline. You weren't used to being touched much, but you absolutely loved it when you had skin-to-skin contact. “I'm Laito, Bitch-Chan. The most attractive man here.” He smirked, which made you want to fawn over him for a second, but you knew better. No good came from Downworlders, you learned that at an early age.

“Such a liar, it's obvious it's Ore-sama.” You looked up at the owner of the voice, recognizing it.

“I should have guessed you were related.” You spat, pulling yourself out of Laito’s arms and onto the couch. “You both have that ‘egotistic’ quality.”

The man glared at her, his green eyes annoyed. “Oi! Shut up, Melons!”

You glared. "Don't call me melons, Christmas!"

“Be quiet… You're ruining my music…” You glanced at the blonde who was lying down on the other couch, his eyes were closed, probably sleeping. He, of course, was also good-looking, you just wished you could see what his eyes were like.

Kanato teleported into the room using his vampire powers, he was pretty beat up, but he would heal quickly. You had definitely done a number on him. You wondered if he was still pissed. “Look Teddy, the new doll is finally awake.”

You sighed, instinctively feeling your sheath for your Angel Blade while your eyes darted around the room, searching for exits. The white-haired and red-eyed man, who was leaning against a blank wall, scoffed. “ Tch, we aren't dumb, Nephilim. You don't have any more weapons on you. We confiscated them.”

You glared, putting the fury into your stare. “You aren't allowed to keep me here, it's against the Law.” You said, tapping your boot against the marble floor.

Laito smirked, sitting down next to you, although a little too close. “I'm sure The Clave will make an exception for us. Especially since it's illegal for you to be trespassing on Vampire's property in the first place.”

“You're fair game, Melons. Should have looked before you came to us.”

“I was hunting!” You retorted angrily. “I had direct orders from The Clave and there were no restricted places on my mission information, I wasn't informed there were vampires!”

The blonde groaned and pulled out an earphone and opened his eyes, giving you a death stare. Now that you had a better look at him, you saw just how gorgeous his eyes were, a beautiful ocean of calm. As blue as the sky. You were entranced for a moment. “Stop being so noisy. You broke the Law, so these are the consequences.” He closed his eyes again and put the earpods back in.

You felt speechless, like your life was being sold to yet another individual. “The Clave will come after you. I'm a top agent.”

“They have the guts to come after the Sakamaki's?” Ayato teased.

Your jaw went slack, a feeling of dread washed over you, you had known you had recognized their names. Kanato, Ayato, and Laito were the triplets of the Sakamaki family. Which meant the white-haired man and the blonde man were also their brothers. “No, no, no. There's no fucking way…”

Laito smirked, leaning in close to your face. “Surprise, Bitch-Chan.”

You quickly stood up, forcing your legs to be strong enough to hold your weight and backed away. “Holy shit…” You bumped into someone and quickly turned to face him. He was also a vampire, with those looks. Shiny magenta eyes that looked as though they could see through everything and also understand everything. He seemed very knowledgeable. He had such dark hair that you couldn't tell whether it was black or very dark blue.

“How unladylike, don't you know you should be aware of your movements? You aren't a very graceful woman, are you?” He said, there was something about his voice that gave him a commanding demeanor. You could tell he was intelligent and strict, and knowing this you knew you should apologize politely, but all you could do was freeze in terror. You had faced and killed many vampires before, but these were the sons of The Vampire King. Karlheinz was the only leader of Downworlders who had trouble agreeing with The Law, werewolves, faeries, and warlock were easily swayed to The Clave's side. The Clave knows not to piss off Karlheinz. He could, without a doubt, go up against Shadowhunter kind and win within a week. “It's customary to answer when someone talks to you, honestly.”

You broke yourself out of your shocked state, stammering out a response.“Fuck, I'm sor-”

“You curse too? Dear lord, I'm going to have to train so much out of you. The only good quality I see so far is in your bloodline.” The magenta-eyed man spat, disgusted.

Laito chuckled, his fangs peeking through his lips. “Her blood does smell delightful. May I have a bite, Bitch-Chan?” In a flash, the fedora-wearing man’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, you yelped and flinched back, attempting to push away Laito, but someone else did before you could.

“She's my doll! I saw her first, I get the first taste!” Kanato yelled at his younger brother, fury in his eyes. Laito chuckled, amused and not scared by his brother’s outburst. He stayed down where Kanato had pushed him, resting both of his arms under his head. “(Y/N), dolly, stay still,” Kanato spoke softly, it almost calmed you, his voice was just so hypnotizing. However, you knew what would happen if a vampire got a hold of your blood. As he leaned down, his teeth bared, to pierce your collarbone, you did something you would probably regret, you slapped him across the face. The room went completely silent, nobody said a single word, it was so very eerie. You didn't dare move a muscle, frozen from fear. Kanato slowly turned his head toward you again, a scowl on his face. “You really have to be put in your place, doll.” To your horror, Kanato wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly at first, seeming to test you.

Your hand jumped to his wrist, in an attempt to get him to let go. “Kanato-” The vampire squeezed slightly tighter, probably restraining himself. “P-please…”

He glared down at you. “You have lost the right to beg for my mercy, Shadowhunter. Endure your punishment.” The purple-haired man tightened his grip even more, it took everything for you to not cry out in pain, your training never taught you what to do during a fight with one of the strongest pure-blood vampires to date.

Finally, You blacked out from oxygen deprivation, you did however spare your dignity as you didn't once scream. Kanato let go of your thin figure, blinking. “She's more fiery than the brides,” Ayato grumbled.

“Tch, she won't last a day here.” The white-haired man spoke from the other side of the room, his red eyes gleaming with curiosity and annoyance.

The youngest triplet chuckled. “Fufu~ She might surprise us. You never know.”

#diabolik lovers #reiji sakamaki x reader #shu sakamaki x reader #ayato sakamaki x reader #kanato sakamaki x reader #subaru sakamaki x reader #laito sakamaki x reader #diabolik fanfic #fanfiction

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iamafanofcartoons · 1 year

Text

Why Ironwood’s actions made him a villain, and Team RWBY’s actions made them heroes.

Let’s go into some perspective about why Ironwood + his regime, and not Team RWBY, was the actual “worse than salem” group. And why Team RWBY are the heroes, and Ironwood and his regime the antagonists.

Let’s turn back the clock to before James threatened to nuke Mantle or blackmail Penny into helping him, and shot down planes that would carry people to safety.

“He genuinely offered all his resources to Team RWBY and co to maximize all the chances of them getting better and winning.” While squeezing Mantle dry.

Pre-V8 he still was authoritarian militarist, who locked down Atlas and Mantle, crippling its trade and defense capabilities of other regions, which led to a lot of people left to starve or die to Grimm, and he was also squeezing Mantle dry on top of it with a blatant disregard to its safety, and only giving it token "support", while his Huntsmen were more concerned with arresting people protecting Mantle, than helping them fight back Grimm.

Mantle was dying in volume 7, and it was all James’ fault, and critics were demanding that after Ironwood squeezed and bled Mantle dry, that Atlas abandon Mantle.

The writing is on the wall, but people are so focused on how he treated RWBY and co that they completely miss (ironically, unlike RWBY and co themselves, as it was their major concern) how he treats literally everyone else.

Of course he would treat them well, they are a very useful asset! Unlike people of Mantle, who could die in a ditch for all he cares.

That's not to say that he wants them dead, of course... he just doesn't care about them. He doesn't care about the people he's sworn to protect.

“ For Mantle, the entire point of the Huntsmen down there was to secure it and cover for the lack of resources. “

Lack of resources he himself created, funneling every drop of dust to his pet project.

James was always a borderline dictator. And he could pretty much brow-beat the Council to do what he needs, seeing how he held two seats out of five, and one was vacant.

“But James isn’t authoritarian!”

Authoritarian: Favoring or enforcing strict obedience to authority at the expense of personal freedom.

“But Ironwood was trying to prevent invasion of Salem’s agents”

They infiltrated Atlas through Mantle, by means of using outdated security. With Watts even explicitly pointing out that Atlas got the shiny upgrades, but no one cared to get them to Mantle. And Cinder and Neo still got in. Ironwood failed spectacularly. As he always does.

People were losing their jobs and their living because of lockdown, and those who kept theirs, were working in harsh conditions. Grimm regularly invaded Mantle. People couldn't even get their children to schools without Huntsmen protecting them.

“Its for the greater good”

I just don't see any merit in humoring ideas that treat people as expendable pieces on the path to some lofty goal. "Some of you may die, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make" logic is the logic of villains.

“Ironwood employed Penny and the robots, that shows he cares!”

The robots were shown to be like Star Wars Movie stormtroopers in terms of effectiveness, and Star Trek Redshirts in terms of survivability.

Also, not caring for someone implies not giving any thought to their problems, and in this particular case those problems were directly or indirectly created by Ironwood's actions or negligence. Sending Penny down there is a band-aid, an illusion of action. Also he was running her 24/7, having girl do the job of an entire military and her sole energy source and repairs comes from her dying father, who’s also being run ragged on Jimmy’s project.

“But Team RWBY used the satellite?”

Should we just discard the progress, if it was made by amoral means? Or should we rather use it, to at least in some way honor those who suffered for it?

“But Ironwood didn’t commit murder till he shot Oscar”

Murder is not the only weapon in dictatorship's arsenal. There’s media control and forbidding public functions and mass gatherings, which Ironwood did in the first episode of V7. There’s also banning weapons unless you’re in the dictator’s private army, which Clover literally confirmed in the 2nd episode, even ignoring Qrow’s license.

“Influential people aren't simply council members. People with money and connection need to receive privileges in exchange for services they may provide. That's how politics work. “

And yet, he literally SINGLEHANDEDLY LOCKED DOWN ATLAS. And neither other council members, nor other "influential people", represented in a show by Jacques, could stop him, despite it hurting their bottom lines. Whoops.

“ Y'all keep forgetting what being a soldier/military man entails. You obey your superior without question. That's not authoritarian, that's how any self-respecting army functions. “

Huntsmen aren’t supposed to be soldiers, they’re warriors who act with a code and serve society, not a general who treats everything like a contest of measuring “GLYNDA!”

Ironwood privatized the Huntsmen System, thus preventing Atlas Huntsmen from serving society, with the exception of the Happy Huntresses, who Clover called “Worse than Grimm” to Qrow. Imagine that defying Ironwood makes you worse than Grimm? Apparently that’s all it took for Robyn Haters.

Speaking of Clover...obeying orders without question? You mean like how Clover decided to defend Ironwood’s decision to abandon Mantle, try to arrest Qrow, and completely disregard the mission to capture Tyrian because “Good soldiers follow orders?” Then the Qrow vs Tyrian vs Clover fight makes sense. Tyrian wanted to cause chaos, Qrow wanted to stop Ironwood and Tyrian, and Clover wanted to obey Ironwood’s orders without question. Qrow made the mistake of thinking that Tyrian, who had never lied before, had meant that “putting the kid to bed” simply meant incapacitating Clover, not killing Clover. Meanwhile Clover had no problem arresting anyone who wasn’t licensed by Ironwood or carrying weapons that weren’t part of Ironwood’s army. I guess Clover did die as he lived...not a huntsmen, but a soldier.

“ Unless they showed someone's corpse or Team RWBY looking at beggars, there wasn't any sign of famine or death as you mention. The most there was is extra security and frequent robot patrols. “

Just because there are no corpses lying around on the streets, doesn't mean that people aren't suffering. A lot of the times their suffering goes unseen. You can't deny that Mantle looks like a mix of cyberpunk slum and depressive post-USSR Eastern Europe city. That's enough to make an educated guess about the state of the city and its inhabitants.

Just because Ironwood sacrifices some things, doesn't give him the right to sacrifice something he doesn't own - namely, other people.

Watts of all people called Jimmy out on neglecting Mantle's security. Aside from that, how did he help Mantle aside from sending a few Huntsmen there, which is, again, a band-aid, and an illusion of action?

“Ironwood trusted them like he trusted Ozpin” Remember what he did to Ozpin in V2. You know, the whole going behind his “Friend’s” back to get Ozpin, Salem’s chief nemesis and founder of the schools, fired? And also putting Penny in the Vytal Tournament despite nobody allowing it if they knew she was an android? This is the same guy who talked about trust? Ironwood is a hypocrite because he loves to talk about trust while betraying everyone else’s.

Remember the episode “Sparks?”

Unrest doesn't happen like *snap* and everything blows up. Tension grows gradually and usually goes unnoticed, until it's at the point when a slightest spark is enough to ignite the situation. What Jacques and Watts did was that spark, but the groundwork was laid by Ironwood's actions raising the tension between Mantle and Atlas. And that growing unrest could be seen as far back as e1 of that volume - specifically, in the drunk racist and Forest.

“Ironwood didn’t expect Watts to be alive!”

Someone broke through a military grade cyber security and caused all Atlesian robots and mechs to go "Execute Order 66″ on people. Whether or not it was Watts is irrelevant, because it's a known (to Ironwood) fact that there's someone capable of doing it*.* You don't need a hindsight to account for it, just a regular sight and basic common sense. Which Ironwood has none. That Ironwood, knowing this, only went as far as updating the infrastructure in Atlas, but not in Mantle, is not just negligence, it's a sabotage of his own goals.

The fact is that Ironwood's methods revealed his disregard for people with whom his goals don't align.

“Ironwood was to take drastic actions! There needed to be sacrifices"

The sacrifices began when he locked down Atlas and Mantle. They were just incidental, a product of ignorance and negligence.

“Atlas was the mightiest military” Name one battle they won that didn’t involve Team RWBY’s help?

Their ships could barely fire upon some giant worms, and had not been updated since the great war, causing them only to be able to effectively fire single laser shots against other ships.

An elite huntsmen can take out tons of weaker grimm. And Ironwood’s ships were useless against grimm as well. The paladins could work...yes.But they had a nasty habit of being stolen or hacked...which was again, ironwood’s fault.

“Qrow was willing to trust Ironwood!”

Even though Qrow told them in V6 that they should ask Ironwood for help, by the time the team actually met Ironwood, Qrow had changed his position to not talking to him. Sound familiar? Something Lionhart?

Ironwood didn't take defensive measures against Salem's forces. We see in the very first episode that whatever Ironwood is doing to keep Salem's forces out of Mantle isn't working.

We learned in episode 2 that he was not only aware of his actions having literally the exact opposite effect of what he was promising the people of Mantle, but he also accepted that.

Even before the main cast met Ironwood, they knew he either had no idea what he was doing, or he wasn't on their side any more. They didn't know which it was, but they already knew they couldn't count on him.

The grand sum of Ironwood’s character is:

“I can tolerate leaving thousands of innocents to die for some vague concept of the great good, but I draw the line at insubordination and lying.”

“But Ruby and Yang were being hypocritical in going behind Ozpin’s back!” A huge part of volume 7 was that Ruby realized that Ozpin was ultimately morally grey, and morally grey I mean his actions he took while thinking of other people. Selfishness is the complete opposite of morally grey, which instantly disqualifies Raven Branwen (mass murderer and thief), Adam Branwen (Mass murderer and terrorist), and Roman Torchwick. (Thief, murderer, and racist) from ever being qualified as morally ambiguous. As a result, Ruby ends up acknowledging Ozpin’s points, and even starts working with him again in V8. Yang on the other hand was agreeing with Blake’s points during the cargo truck ride and decided to go: “Hey Robyn, I know jimmy is oppressing your people and your actions against him are valid, but he’s trying to restore global communications for the greater good and his ‘protector of mantle’ didn’t actually kill your constituents, so if you could please stop taking back what’s yours, James will eventually repair mantle.”

And Robyn went: Okay.

Yang and Blake got Robyn to be willing to compromise with Ironwood, something Ironwood cannot do himself, and something he is incapable of getting people to do unless he abuses his military and political power, which he does on a regular basis.

“But Robyn was a terrorist who sabotaged the project!”

She was taking back the supplies that were meant for Mantle, that Ironwood was stealing from Mantle, for his personal project that was done without the council’s authority. She was giving those supplies back to the people of Mantle. Which emboldened the suppliers of Mantle in giving them hope that they could pressure Ironwood to repair Mantle’s defenses. Ironwood’s response? Call the entire city of Mantle “A few cityblocks”

“Robyn’s outfit and equipment was ridiculous compared to Ironwood’s military”

Yeah, when you’re in a city that’s poorer than Vacuo and oppressed by a small-minded man with a giant ego, you don’t tend to have access to the best equipment, clothes, etc. Not to mention that unlike Vacuo, Huntsmen aren’t allowed to protect people in Atlas unless they’re part of Ironwood’s private army.

“Team RWBY were selfish, Ruby is acting just like Roman!”

Lying to save lives and prevent human extinction is not the same as lying for your own self interest. When the gang steal and airship to get into Atlas, it isn’t an evil thing. They are doing it so they can save lives and protect innocent people. The good guys make sacrifices when they have to, where there is absolutely no other choice. Ironwood would sacrifice anything he could to protect his people, you can debate whether or not he’s a true villain, but he goes to far. Sacrifice isn’t a last resort for him, he believes it is. But most villains believe they’re on the right side. This is why most “Rewrites” that try to “Fix” Roman, Adam , or Ironwood go out of their way to rewrite the plot and characters to try to claim that the Villains are in the right, and to shame any female characters who stand in their way. The both the White fang and the good side use violence. But the white fang use violence and seek division and persecution as vengeance for their own struggles. Ultimately, through salem’s manipulation, they divide the intelligent creatures of Remnant. They attack hurt innocent people to further their own goals. The good guys use violence so that violence can be ended. Remind you of anyone? Cough cough, Batman! The sin of the cynic is acting purely in self-interest. Torchwick's line of "lie, cheat, steal and survive" refers to putting his needs first and foremost. It's not the same as resorting to desperate methods to save lives. Like, Jaune cheating his way into Beacon is motivated by self-interest, but his idea to steal an airship in V6 was motivated by keeping others safe. He isn't proving Torchwick's ideals are right in the latter instance, it's quite the opposite. Same with Ruby.

I'm not sure how people can say that Ironwood was proven right when we are shown that there were ways to save the people of Mantle. It's not even a one-time thing either, he thought that he had to keep forcing Mantle to make sacrifices but it turns out it was completely possible to make a compromise with them.

And if we're going to be completely honest it's Ironwood's refusal to compromise that's the biggest factor regarding Atlas's fate. For example, Neo was able to steal the lamp because his soldiers unintentionally gave her the opportunity and a way to escape. It's what led to Robyn acting the way she did on the plane and everything involving Penny was because of him.

Frankly, the only point I can give critics is the white Fang and it's only because the series so horrifically failed to demonstrate the difference between Sienna and Adam.

“But Ironwood was prepared to compromise with Robyn”

He wanted to have her taken into custody 1st and only then was he going to "negotiate," with her... I don't think I need to explain how this is not under any circumstances an actual compromise.

The actual compromise between Ironwood and Mantle took place in the Schnee Manor and that was entirely thanks to Blake, Yang, and sadly Jacques. And that was a compromise that he broke mere hours later when he decided to completely unnecessarily abandon them all to die... A decision he made without seeking any advice and then straight up threatened the people who dared question him on it.

“Sleet: The fact of the matter is, you've operated with a fair amount of autonomy for the past few years, James. But we need now is for you to work with us “

So Ironwood disrespected his peers and did whatever he wanted, and when called out on it, refused to listen to his colleagues, his equals.

A person arrested and completely at James’ mercy ISNT really a negotiating.

“I can either throw you in jail for the rest of your life OR you can agree to work under me, under my terms and conditions.”

What a “””negotiation.“”” Much fair.

“But Ruby is the villain in the trolley scenario!” If the Trolley is the floating city of Atlas, then the people of Mantle are the ones lashed to the tracks, and Ironwood put them there. Salem is coming up behind the Trolley, and Ironwood wants to bulldoze over the Mantle people. Ruby and the Gang want to get the people on board, but Ironwood refuses to let them on. To the point where he will do anything to prove he’s right and somebody is wrong. Ironwood is literally the man who cuts off his nose to spite his face. So Ruby and Crew use Ambrosius to get everyone to a new destination.

“Ruby and crew destroyed Atlas!” According to Cinder, RWBY saved thousands. And if you think an infrastructure is what makes a kingdom, then you forget that a kingdom is nothing without living breathing people, who live in Atlas, who have made it to Vacuo, and while Vacuo is about as xenophobic as Atlas, they put power in the people, and everyone there works together for the common society. Aka, the greater good. The people of Atlas can do good for each other, when Ironwood isn’t sabotaging everything.

“Ruby sabotaged Ironwood’s broadcast!” Ironwood’s broadcast was “Hey world, I want you to ignore every bad thing I’ve done and every red flag I’ve given off because there’s a greater evil in the world, and I want you to let me use my army that failed to protect everyone into your borders just like I forcibly brought my army into the Vytal Peace festival. I promise I won’t do anything behind your backs like use your events for weapon testing of the human soul like I did back then?

What was Ruby’s Speech? “Hi Everyone, I’m a Huntress, my job is to help you all. Listen, Atlas is under attack by the same bad person that brought down Beacon. We’re all in the same mess. Yeah, she can’t be killed, but everyone working together has been able to stop her the past 80 years, and if we all work together again, we can do it again. Here’s some people you can trust to validate the info, but Ironwood can’t be trusted because of all his actions in the past and his red flags. I believe in you all, because you all can do incredible things, and together everyone can stop Salem”

So Ruby was trying to unite humanity, give EVERYONE the hope and strength to work together and fight Salem, and stop Ironwood from getting too big for his britches.

Ruby was not being a savior, Ironwood was trying to act like he was. Ruby was trying to make humans and faunus alike the saviors. Power of the People.

“Ironwood is a battle-hardened experienced general!” Remnant had been at peace for 80 years, the only conflict was Grimm and the White Fang. And Adam represented the main bad people out there...in Vale. So Ironwood basically used a display of military bravado for everything (Glynda’s words) and people think that’s battle experience? If that’s the case, then Team RWBY and JNPR have loads of experience both on Ironwood in terms of tactics, and on the Ace Ops in terms of combat. Oh wait! THEY DO! That explains why Ironwood fails so spectacularly against Salem and her agents tactics till Team RWBY comes along to help, and why Team RWBY can defeat the Ace Ops.

”He was completely different back in volumes 2-3!″

Why did people look at Adam Taurus, a wannabe edgelord who tried to murder innocent passengers on a train....and then people decided to defend his every action? Claiming Adam was “misunderstood?” What, like Vergil from Devil May Cry, who murdered innocent people for power and had no problem unleashing monsters onto civilians, just like Adam did in Volume 3?

Why did people look at Ironwood, who brought a war fleet to a international peace conference, got screamed at for his warmongering by the Assistant Headmaster who kept her voice relatively level even against team rwby’s food fight, got the headmaster fired for not obeying Jimmy, and used the conference to conduct weaponization of the human soul projects....and claim he was a savior?

So yeah...Ironwood was cool, had drip, had charisma, had good intentions. But his actions spoke louder than his words. Sadly people only listened to his words. Must be his Messiah Complex.

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