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twothpaste · 1 year

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(kumatora fick snippet below the cut feat. duster)

Duster n' OJ have a sleeper sofa. It's probably, by a rough landslide, the most luxurious thing they own. 'Sides the instruments, of course. Like the Corolla, it hails from a Craigslist ad. Like the rest of their shit, it's got about a dozen things wrong with it. Pain in the ass to unfold. Creaks when ya roll over. Smells a little funny. Not that ya really notice, given it muddles with the apartment's general funk. Cigarettes they don't smoke, dogs they don't own, and moldy cheese linger like ghosts ya just can't bust. Er. Well. The latter pungence might be on account of the resident bassist himself, come to think of it.

The twins are a snoozy pile of ratty old blankets. Claus' residual arm, an unwitting pillow. Lucas huddles close in his sleep. Soon as he's zonked out, his gangly, awkward, half-grown limbs inevitably give way to the unconscious cling. There's this one Pokemon. It's called Komala. Kuma's got it on a phone charm. Souvenir gift from Mixolydia's Japan trip, last summer.

It dangles from her sweatpants pocket, now, casting a faint shadow onto grungy off-white tiles. The kitchen's built like the world's shittiest limousine. A bullet train long, and a Subway sandwich wide. Lack of insulation beckons drafty chills from the window - which the architects had no right to cram into such a miserable sliver of wall in the first place. A fine layer of grease coats most inches of most surfaces. OJ's tried to tame it. Sweaty tank top. Dollar store scrub brush. Old Dutch Cleanser. All to no avail. It's the grime's abode. They're just livin' in it. 'Til their lease is up, that is.

Little does Kumatora know, a standard is being set. Couple years from now, she'll be sharing a pretty little duplex with four unruly roommates. By the end of their lease, they'll be at each others' throats like cats n' dogs. After the bloodbath, she and Lucas, broke n' broker, will claim a sardine can not unlike this one. The place is out there, right now. Accumulating wear and tear, as we speak. Stovetop burner that don't work. Crack in the bathroom wall. Present tenants bitchin' to the landlord about the faulty A/C, as if Mr. Phil T. Apartments has any intention of havin' it fixed within the next decade. These things'll be waiting for them. And, somehow, despite every pipe leak and mouse squeak? Kuma's gonna find it all quaintly comforting.

She ain't thinkin' 'bout that, though. Ain't got a crystal ball. Never could read those fuckin' tea leaves. She's staring outside, lookin' for stars she can't see. Peering through that frosty little window, watchin' the snow flurries pour down over a pothole-littered lot. Perched like an alleycat. Fat ass on the countertop. Kitten-print socks hovering, with sickly gray smudged along the bottoms. Rollerblade vertigo swirls the meat around in her skull.

In her left hand, she wields a 50ml shot bottle of Captain Morgan.

Duster, who's sharper than he looks by quite a steep margin, had spotted her pilfering it, a few hours prior. Chipped nailpolish breaching the stark red lining of a Target shelf. Didn't mention it, then. And won't, now. Even as he watches the yellowish swill descend down her gullet. She's four winters short of liquor-legal. Three, next month. Conversely - he's thirty-nine Septembers sober.

A wisened insomniac, he treads lightly. Still, she catches the floorboards creaking from a mile away. White spots, on the perked backs of a tiger's ears. The corner of her eye is a threat. He heeds it. Saint's patience. Keeps a full limousine's distance, between their dark silhouettes.

"Y'can keep runnin', if y'want."

If you can imagine the quiet crinkle of a brown paper bag, you can hear him, too. Ain't nothin' inside but off-brand groceries and humble intentions. The soles of his shoes, sittin' by the front door, are worn awful thin.

"But. It won't do ya any good. I learnt the hard way, y'know."

"The hell do you know about it?"

Her growl snaps at his heels. A curious rumble, as low as it is sharp. Resides somewhere liminal, between cub and beast. The adolescent must now set out on its own, to stake its claim on a territory, David Attenborough would say. Peering through jungle fronds, all Duster can dare to offer is a piece of meat. Pint of blood. Some bones to gnaw on.

"I jus' don't want ya to hurt yerself, is all."

Slitted eyes regard her friend with wary vengeance. Stiff frame. Capran scruff. The old goat's hooves, clattering bravely upon her lonesome dominion. His gnarled hands, perfectly still. Once upon a time, he'd been the one to gently pry scavenged hazards from her toddling paws. Shaving razor. Pair of scissors. Wess' cigars - remember? Now, there's no nip at her sleeve. No use tryin' to tug anything outta her claws' grip. She's grown now. She knows the score. She calls the shots! Y'hear..!?

So be it.

"Fuck off, Duster."

He hangs still and silent for a fleeting moment. As if to a sheer cliffside. Careful consideration given to each minute, faintly-creaking motion. He bleats back nary a protest. Only a humbly nodding "Mmh." Teeters back toward the hallway's pitch black. Hand on the wall, to steady himself.

He'll do just that. If she demands.

White flakes of solitude pour down yet heavier, just beyond the window.

'Bout an hour later, he finds her squeezed along the edge beside Lucas, snoring away. Huddled tight to herself, with the sheets unpilfered. Yanked not even an inch to cover her goosebump-riddled arms.

Before he returns to OJ, Duster ventures, silent as the night, into the living room closet. Calloused hands reach high, to the topmost shelf. Fetch an extra blanket, and ferry it down. He drapes it so gently over her shoulders, she doesn't even stir.

#i suspect i'll be chipping away for a long while still #it's intermission 6 baybeeeee #2thprose

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corvidcrybaby · 1 year

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You reblogged smut prompts and tell me if I'm wrong but this one might fit zemicard:

"quit talking shit and put your mouth to good use instead."

it does and i'm choosing to take this as an actual smutty prompt, thanks, hee hee hee this was a fun little exercise - stream of consciousness, minimal editing, etc

(Alucard/OC, CW: hypnosis, breathplay, humiliation, the works)

"Quit talking shit before I think of a better use for your mouth."

The words whalloped Zemira over the back of the skull like a rusty crowbar. With a fierce curl of her lip, she cocked her head over her shoulders, angling her gaze towards her mission partner and current... Fling? Friend with benefits? Boyfriend? Alucard.

Zemira felt something clawing at her shin, and without even looking, leveled her SPAS-15 at the temple of the desiccated zombie grasping for her with a feeble grip missing several fingers, and blew its dome out in bloody chunks without even looking.

"Hell of a place for dirty talk, Vlad," Zemira snickered, choosing to zap him back as usual.

Alucard, for his part, was lounging in a leather armchair. Paying no mind to the bombed-out husk of what might once have been a sickeningly sappy forest cottage. Now, it was the site of a necrotic bloodbath of comical proportions. A few dozen Ghouls reduced to flesh paste later, and the resident vampire king had gotten so bored so quickly he decided to sit his smug ass down and watch Zemira finish the job.

To the surprise of no one, they got into a snark-fueled argument over who boasted the higher kill count for the evening. The petty debate grew heated with haste, and so did its participants. One thing led to another, and next thing they knew, insults were flying. They began in earnest - teasing and playful, or what passed for such things from a pair of gun-obsessed dervishes such as these two.

Zemira's jab that doomed her was telling Alucard that his Casull must have been compensating for something, despite knowing better - intimately.

Now, although Alucard was still smiling at her, legs crossed and drumming the fingers of his free hand on the arm of his chair, smoke still burbled from Casull's mouth, which he held pointing skyward beside his head. This, and the hellish gleam behind those bioluminescent eyes of his.

Zemi ought to know better than to test him fresh off the midnight kill, really, but.

Don't tell a damn soul she said this, but she thought he was wicked hot when he was mad. And when he swore? Unf. He did that so rarely, it was such a treat.

"As if you'd complain," Alucard said, a dangerous faux-naif lilt to his voice which warned Zemira in no uncertain terms that if she acted the brat any further, there would be dire consequences.

Zemira turned to face him head on, feeding a fresh magazine into her shotgun, a crazed glint to her eyes. "Shove it, Vlad. Ain't like we're done, anyway, come on now. After all," she said, grinning wider than advisable for her safety, spitting onto the ground between words, "I still see one big killcount still staring me dead in the face."

Alucard's good humor vanished without a trace. He raised a hand and curled his fingers towards himself, bared his fangs at her, and boomed out a command. "Enough. You. Here. Now."

Zemira's eyes blew out as his bored a violent hole into her skull, and her vision flickered crimson. All her limbs went slack, suddenly far too heavy, her jaw hung agape. With hooded lids, her eyes remained laser-focused on his, as though that point in space were anchoring her to reality. SPAS-15 slid from her shoulder and clattered to the floor, forgotten as his mother left him behind.

Her boots carried her of their own volition. Closer and closer to Alucard. A distant alarm in the deep recesses of her brain went unheeded. Warm fuzz blanketed her mind and swaddled her in pleasant tingles.

Before she knew it, a huge, masculine hand was fisted in her thick mane of hair, and she was kneeling before him. Delicious vertigo wracked her body from head to toe. The fog cleared enough to hear Alucard's arrogant laughter shaking through him. At her.

Defiant retorts tried to form on her tongue, but putting sentences together felt like forcing the wrong ends of magnets together. Not when she was settled between his legs like this, her hands resting atop his thighs. Not when his other hand snaked around her pretty neck and squeezed, a touch too hard, and a gasp caught in her throat. Her dog-tags jingled in the air from the jolt.

"Oh? Is something the matter, Specialist Corporal?" Alucard sneered, his lips pulling back to brandish his maw of conical fangs. "Come on, I could have sworn you were saying something. You're normally such a little spitfire."

Zemira squeezed her thighs together. Shame and anger wracked her in tandem with relief and desire. The fucking nerve. The unmitigated, accursed nerve of this man - and the fact that she came back for more, every G-ddamn time. There was something wrong with her, she swore, but fuck, the sex was too damn good. Her eyes squeezed shut to weather the onslaught.

The hand in her hair yanked her head back. "Look at me," Alucard commanded, claws scraping her scalp. The absence of open aggression in his tone was only further warning.

Zemira nodded, bleary, meeting her commander's eyes, mouth spread in an 'O.' Alucard's choking hand slid up to squish her cheeks together as his nose brushed hers. "Good girl," he cooed. Zemira bit back a truly embarrassing sound, but only just. The noises he wrenched from her never failed to mortify her.

But then a drunken trance overtook her as his lips closed around hers and his tongue, rife with that aphrodisiac in his saliva, was atop hers. There were gratuitous wet sounds as she sucked on his tongue, and he rattled with a hungry growl, sending heat to pool in her belly. With a desperate scramble from Zemira, his slacks came undone, and his cock was free in the air - twitching and huge. As if she needed any reminder what this beautiful sonofabitch knocking her down off her high horse did to him as much as her.

Her lips closed around the head without any further hesitation, and Alucard leaned back with an appreciative rumble. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear carnage got her in a frisky mood almost as much as it did for him. Albeit, a far more submissive mood. As her head began to obediently bob, the hand grasping her hair tightened. Though she could not see it, his sneer hadn't abated.

"There, you see?" Alucard jeered, not without warmth. "You always see us jump through no end of pointless hoops before we reach this point of the night."

Zemira didn't respond, just hollowed her cheeks and sucked him extra-hard. If that was her idea of payback, it was counterproductive, because it just made him rumble in appreciation. Pleasure shot straight to Zemira's clit, because fuck, the sounds this guy made, the reverberating boom of his baritone, it turned her brain to mush every G-dforsaken time.

Her tongue swirled in circles around the head of his cock, and Alucard bucked his hips, the muscles of his legs flexing as he did. That only seemed to encourage her. Alucard was not particularly broad, but the sheer height deficit between Zemira's five-foot-seven and his own six-foot-six made him large enough by comparison.

Zemira's breathing picked up, as did his own movements. Alucard bit down on his tongue and suppressed the monstrous urge to throw her against the nearest wall and either flay her into ribbons, or rut into her until she wished he'd done the latter instead. That didn't stop him from digging his nails into her skin, holding her head there, and slamming his cock down to the base. Zemira gagged and released an indignant groan that sounded akin to an attempt to scold him for his overzealous behavior.

"Quiet, you little harlot," Alucard sighed. He tapped the top of her skull with a claw, harder than usual, and she stiffened. "One more insipid quail, and I'll have to edge you for the next hour. Two, if necessary. You would be wise not to test me tonight."

Zemira felt her skin crawl at the salacious threat, a cold sweat breaking out from head to toe, and yet still she couldn't decide if she should take him up on that.

Bit of a fucking problem trying to do that with her mouth full, though.

#sorryyyyyyyy had 2 end on cliffhanger or i'd be here for too long #this was rly fun tho #hellsing oc #hellsing fanfiction #alucard x oc #alucard #hellsing #ask box #ask game

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dreamcorechild · 1 year

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[The corruption arc.]

Chapter Six: A Warlord against 100 Vanquishers.

Emerald left to explore on his own. Due to what he had saw.. He couldn't live the fact that he let hundreds of stick figures fell victims to the horde... Now Black 6c had gain more armies for his own.. Emerald hated himself for doing that.

He never let anyone down.. Now he did... He sees himself as a monster... A monster that he will now become due to guilt..He looked at his battle axe.. Throwing it away out of rage, he was becoming delusional from the forest beside him. So he decided to walk to the nearby hillsides. If it means to get away from everything for a while.. He stopped. No, what was he thinking to leave unarmed where there literally thousands of Vanquishers prowling everywhere he goes.

He stared back at his battle axe who was on the ground.. Not moving an inch. He made a large groan, tilting his head down while pulling it out. Lights dimmed from it.. And so was his mind.

"This is so fucking stupid..." He said to himself.

"Why can't I just do anything right for once... I made one mistake that could have been prevented if I wasn't so focus of annihilating as many Vanquishers as I can.. I really need to stop running away.. But I cant.. If I return back there their gonna put me down as a traitor... And I'm not.. I'm just a Warlord who just failed a simple mission!!"

He collapse on his knees, breaking down into tears. Punching the ground as hard as he could.

"WHY, WHY!!!! WHY DOES TODAY ALWAYS SUCK... WHY DOES IT ALWAYS HAVE TO HAPPEN.. WHY CANT I JUST CATCH A GOD DAMN BREAK!!!????"

The emerald stick figure quivered and stutter. He was a slobbering mess, unaware that his screaming was alerting an ambush towards his presence.. He needed to act fast and get out of there until he would be apart of Black 6c corrupted puppets...

He glared at the darkness, stumbling up to his feet, his battle axe swaying around.

"Come at me you sick bastards...."

The lights were charge at him. The hollow face Vanquishers pounce on him. Just then his battle axe charged up, creating a shockwave that send many of them back.

"YOU DAMN CORRUPTED ENTITIES!!! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.. WILL FUCKING DIE!!!"

When the Warlord is angry.. No one can stop him from calming down. He's the one with anger issues that would take hours for the affects to last... Just before that, Emerald pulled out his favourite music disc. Pulling out a boom box and putting the music in.. His favourite song begins to play.

[Ready to Die. By Andrew W. K.]

[This is your time to pay

This is your judgement day.

We made a sacrifice

And now we get to take your life.]

Emerald charged up his battle axe.. Ready to create his very own bloodbath.

[We shoot without a gun

We'll take on anyone

It's really nothing new

It's a just we like to do.]

And then. With no hesitation, only determination. Emerald charged straight towards the horde. His axe collided. His screams were blood curdling.

[YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE (Get ready to die)

YOU BETTER GET READY TO KILL (Get ready to kill)

YOU BETTER GET READY TO RUN

CAUSE HERE WE COME, OH, OH

YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE (Get ready to die)]

The vanquishers popularity was lowering down. All by one single stick figure who completely snapped out of sanity. Emerald has lost his god damn mind...

[Your life is over now.

Your life is running out

When your time is at an end,

Then it's time to kill again.]

Emerald stopped for a quick breather. He opened his one eye. Guess the vanquishers ain't giving up. More of them were coming at him from different sides.

[We cut without a knife

We live in black and white

You're just a parasite

Now close your eyes and say goodnight!]

Emerald pulled out his cigarette, flicking it a light. Breathing in and out. Calm enough to send those corruptions back to the darkness.

[YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE (Get ready to die.)

YOU BETTER GET READY TO KILL (Get ready to kill)

YOU BETTER GET READY TO RUN

CAUSE HERE WE COME.

YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE (Get ready to die.)]

As the song blasted through out the background. Emerald was finishing of the last 10 Vanquishers before they knew that they won't beat the one lone stick figure if there was more of them... They must fall back for now. They lost 100 already due to him.. They ain't loosing more...

"YEAH, YOU BETTER FUCKING RUN YOU COWARDS!!!"

Emerald marched towards his boom box, turning of the music. All he could hear is silence. Looking back at the Massacre all caused by him. He wiped the blood of his boots, putting his cigarette away just after putting it out.

He felt... Relieved and calm.. Now that the vanquishers are afraid of him.. Probably.. Black 6c will be targeting him next once he finds out about his loyal servants population lowering down at record speeds. He stopped walking when he hear the sounds of clapping just next to him.

He turned his head. His eyes widen.

"... Heatwave... Is that you?"

#corruption arc #oc story

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yandereloversblog · 2 years

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Since I never really saw you post any angst here. What if fnaf 1 crew loves reader but reader loves someone else? Would they let them be so they could be happy or kill the person they love so they can have them for themselves? Not rlly sure if it's angst but yea. Hope your having a great day

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐍𝐀𝐅 1 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐰 -> 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎

───────•°˖~❉᯽❉~˖°•───────

> 𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝙰𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢'𝚜 1

> 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝙵𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙱𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗, 𝙵𝚘𝚡𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢

> 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 , 𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝, 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝??

> 𝗧𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗢𝗳 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁: 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗

───────•°˖~❉᯽❉~˖°•───────

•If you didn't request angst this would be a bloodbath- and this is a yandere blog sis, reader ain't being happy with no one but the animatronics.

───────•°˖~❉᯽❉~˖°•───────

-> 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫:

He would NOT take it well. At all.

Freddy isn't forceful- he would like to think he isn't when it comes to his darling but with this one? Yes.

Freddy will ignore any sign that you love someone else, it just hurts him and he doesn't like it. He's going to do that until you yourself tell him that you love someone else.

"No you don't."

That's his response, Freddy will say and do anything to make you believe what you're feeling for the other person isn't love.

Maybe it's him being petty but he'll also get the person his darling loves to hate you just so he could comfort you when you get hurt.

"See? I told you they didn't care, they're just using you for their own benefit."

Freddy will get really annoyed if you continue to love the person despite that.

But if that person actually continues to hurt you Freddy will just kill them no questions asked.

If worst comes worst with you knowing he killed them then Freddy will just kidnap you.

Sure you might hate him and while that will hurt, having you love someone else will hurt way more.

"I won't let you get away from me, never."

-> 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲:

He's a wreck, and it's the worst.

Probably the most emotionally explosive out of all the others. He won't even notice you like someone else until you tell him.

If you don't, Bonnie will just continue being petty and mean to the person you like because you pay more attention to them.

But once you tell him to stop because you like them please prepare for a mental breakdown on his part.

"No- no you don't. You're just playing around, right darling? This wasn't supposed to happen... Please tell me it's a prank."

His pretty insults will turn to full on hatred for that person, even hurting them whenever you're not looking.

Sometimes he'll get angry at you as well -which is always followed by a long line of apologies-

Would probably be the fastest to turn the switch and kill someone while you're not around, doesn't even think of another plan.

Next thing you know you'll get news about your loved one dying.

Original Bonnie is a bad liar on my part, so even if he tries he can't look or act sad or sympathetic in front of you about it.

He'll just be upset that you're crying about someone else... Then again Bonnie deserves you way less but that's not important.

Either way he's really upset at the situation, it will take a while for him to recover.

"I'm sure you'll find someone better darling..."

-> 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧:

Doesn't hide the dislike for the person you love at all.

She'll figure it out on her own and once she confirms it she'll be so sad.

It will concern the other animatronics too, like she's not even eating as much.

"Hm? No, I'm fine, just... Yeah I'm fine..."

-She's not fine-

Soon enough that sadness will turn to anger and she'll end up convincing herself that whoever you're in love with is a bad person.

They can be a mother Theresa reincarnate but she could care less, she'll do anything to make you hate them.

"Are you sure [Y/N]? I don't know, I'm getting really bad vibes from them..."

If it doesn't work she'll try making your loved one hate you. She'll come up with so many plans and if somehow all of them fail is the time she'll resort to killing someone.

Chica saved the elimination method for last, maybe because she doesn't want you to hate her if you find out.

Keyword being if because she'll make sure you won't find out what really happened.

-> 𝐅𝐨𝐱𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞:

Expected it and accepts it. Of COURSE you'll love someone else but him.

"O-oh... Right... I be happy for ye darlin'"

Honestly he's gonna sulk in pirate's cove for a few weeks before finally snapping.

He REALLY didn't mean to, but the sight of the person you love REALLY angers him.

Foxy would like to feel a little more guilt but actually killing the person was followed by him just feeling happy.

But in his defence, if they were that defenceless and weak they deserved it. What if someone else was to attack you and them and you'd get hurt

What will make him regret his actions is you being sad and devastated after the person's death.

Foxy doesn't feel bad about killing your loved one, he just feels bad that he indirectly hurt you.

"[Y/N] I... I'm sure they be in a better place now..."

Foxy will always come SO close to telling you what he did before backing away, you will surely hate him if you found out right?

Maybe it's better this way, you'll get over the person anyways...

-> 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲:

Honestly he's not surprised, but that doesn't mean he accepts the idea of it.

Goldie would accept you being in love with someone else... For a certain amount of time until it gets unbearable

"What should I do? I can't take it anymore..."

Then he decides, he's just gonna kill the person.

Sure you're going to be hurt but it's okay, Goldie will make you feel better in any way he can.

Besides that person doesn't deserve you- neither does Goldie himself, but Goldie's sure HE can protect you from anything, no one else.

Goldie will make sure their death has nothing to do with him, until then he'll go back to being really sweet to you just so you feel safe with him.

When that person dies you're going to need comfort right? And who else better than Goldie will provide that.

And after this Goldie will make sure you never fall in love with someone else again. He's not going to let you out of his sight.

He feels oddly satisfied when you cry to him, yeah just tell Goldie all your worries and he'll make you feel better.

"Oh sweetheart it's alright, I'm here for you, just let it all out."

#yandere #yandere fnaf #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere fnaf 1 #yandere fnaf x reader #yandere freddy fazbear #yandere chica fnaf 1 #yandere bonnie fnaf 1 #yandere foxy fnaf 1 #yandere chica #yandere foxy #yandere bonnie #yandere golden freddy #yandere fnaf 1 x reader

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mavmerry · 2 years

Text

Her saving breath/ Kol Mikealson

Writing imagines now lets go, this ones for when a group of vampires capture the mc and Kol saves her.

Soldiers, armed to their teeth, stood at every entrance and exit. Vigilant eyes, on alert for someone they knew would be arriving soon. It was inevitable. Hundreds of vampires formed ranks, keen on their heightened senses as they awaited.

Until finally, they heard footsteps as he appeared from the shadows. The creatures bared their fangs at the Original as the light finally uncovered his face, revealing a smug smirk and a dark glint dancing in his eyes.

“Your brothers ain't gonna help you out?” One of them snickered from the crowd, glancing at their numbers and back to his one man army. The youngest Mikealson stepped forward.

“Well, this isn't really their battle mate.” He crossed his hands behind his back, features relaxed but the look in his eyes was still deadly enough for anyone to even dare underestimate him.

Slowly, they started to close in on him.

One of the vampires ran towards him screaming and in one second, everyone bared witness to his head being ripped off in an instant. His limp body fell to the ground as splatters of blood painted their clothes dark shades of crimson.

“Now, I believe you have something that belongs to me.” He smiled sweetly before dark veins appeared beneath his eyes and Kol Mikaelson was off on his killing spree. Even a billion vampires were nothing to an Original which made this almost too easy for him, except the blood really did make a mess on his clothes. He hated that part.

After a few minutes of bloody screams and limbs being torn apart, his path to the entrance of the lab was clear. Well if you ignore the countless bodies, it was definitely wide open.

After navigating his way through the hallways he finally saw her.

Metal chains dripping in vervain burnt away at her skin as she hung from the ceiling, head snapping up when she heard footsteps. Her face was bruised and beaten but the shimmer of spark that lit up her face was everything she needed to feel alive.

“Eve.” Kol breathed out in a whisper but he knew she heard it. His vision flooded with red once he saw her condition as the smirk was wide gone and replaced with one of the scariest looks he’s ever given, which was a rare occurrence since Kol was never serious. But not when it comes to her.

He would burn down the entire world if it meant he could see her smile.

“Oh you guys are so dead.” Eve grinned once their eyes met as the vampires around her wavered but nonetheless ran headfirst towards him. Kol drained and mutilated each and every one of them without so much as shedding a bead of sweat.

“No! Please! He made us take her!” One of the injured guards begged for life, dragging his body across the floor and away from the wildest original. Kol walked forward and knelt next to him.

“Why.” He firmly asked with a death glare.

“Killing a hybrid as powerful as her would be all the energy he needs for his ritual.” The Vampire hopelessly answered looking up at the original as he sighed.

“Tell him that he's made the biggest and the final mistake of his life, let today be a warning.” Kol threatened, glancing at the bloodbath that laid out hundreds of dead bodies in front of them as the guy gulped and limped away at vamp speed.

Kol immediately rushed to Eve and ripped apart the shackles and her injured frame fell in his arms.

“Hey, hey Eve. You’re okay darling. I've got you now. I promise.” Kol held her against his body and bit into his wrist, letting the blood flow into her mouth. Original blood had the ability to heal normal vampires. “Hey you.” She looked at him through her tired gaze and he smiled at her with all the love and adoration his heart could give.

“I'm sorry this happened.” His jaw clenched as he looked away in rage at what she had to go through. He felt cold fingers gripping his chin as he was forced to meet her gaze which held such warmth for him.

“Listen to me Kol Mikealson, this wasn't your fault. Besides, you did a good job reprimanding the people whose fault it was.” Her voice was laced with amusement as he rolled his eyes getting up with her in his arms.

“God I love you so much Evette Adler.” He whispered, kissing her forehead as she closed her eyes in content.

“I love you more than anything Kol Mikealson.”

#kol mikaelson #the vampire diaires rp #the originals #klaus mikaelson #vampire #vampires #imagines #fluff #cute #oneshots #the vampire diaries

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zizzy-and-cain-at-ihop · 3 years

Text

Day 25. Bloodbath

@tealerland-my-beloved

This ain't nearly as bad as I planned for it to be, but side angles are my nemesis so yeah, you get this.

Lewt: *Stabs Spinza. Twice*

Spinza: Is this boyfriend material?

(Lol jk take the actual fic)

“Why don’t you just give up? I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re seriously giving me no choice.” Spinza’s Katanas rested in their hands.

They really didn’t want to hurt the other crab. The whole fight was over something as stupid as robbery, but the other decided to test their remaining patience.

“Oh? It’s your choice to harm me. I am not the one making that choice for you. But based on your reaction to me having the upper hand, it seems as if you’d prefer to kill me. So go ahead.”

Spinza froze up. If they attacked, they’d be playing right into its game. If they didn’t, it’d get away.

Clicking approached quickly. They didn’t get the time to react before a white hot pain slammed into their waist.

Blood sprayed onto Lewt’s claw. Its face lit up in excitement as Spinza lurched forward and gagged. More blood came from their mouth, covering both of their clothes.

If there was anything Lewt loved as much as gold, it was bloodshed.

Lewt’s good hand wrapped around Spinza’s waist as it removed its claw and shoved it back in, deeper this time. Spinza began to cry a little, causing Lewt to ‘comfort’ them.

“There there. You’re doing so good. Most people would be screaming their heads off by now.”

“Wh… why? Why did you do this?”

“You told me to stand down. I’m simply giving myself a reason to do so." He moved away slightly to look at his handiwork. "I’ve always loved the sight of blood, especially when it’s drawn by my own claw.”

The moonlight made all of the blood on their bodies glisten in a twisted beauty. The scent of coppery blood flooded the air.

For once, Spinza was powerless in this situation.

It terrified them.

#zizzy doodles #mixels #goretober #Spinza #Lewt #blood tw #tw attempted murder #Spinza x Lewt #kinda

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adelindschade · 3 years

Note

Hello 👋 a long time lurker on your tumblr. I love your fic and how you write all the characters and their relationships. The gwynriel banter is really *chef’s kiss*. I was just kinda wondering after reading the latest chapter notes on ao3, how the hell are you gonna introduce Emorie(is that their ship name?) because mor seems very anti Nesta and we know what Emerie does to all the ppl that think that way. I am just very excited, that’s all.

Hello friend! Thank you so much for this! I love blabbing on and on about my modern au - so I always welcome this opportunity! Please, continue to grace me with your curiosity. :D I'm happy to oblige.

Pictured below my inspo for Mor. (Petra Solano from Jane The Virgin.)

Let me introduce her- because we established she is an independent Latina just like Em. HOWEVER, Mor grew up well to-do, before she was disowned by her father. By that, I mean multi-million hotel industry on the Miami coast. This girl got lucky because her estranged cousin Rhys took her in, and she developed her own empire from the ish she learned growing up. She has some props - she earned that.

Cassian is an idiot to think these two would just be enamored with each other off the bat because they both like the same sex and share a Latin heritage. HE'S DUMB.

Let me remind you: CUBANS AND DOMINICANS ARE TWO VERY DIFFERENT SPECTRUMS OF CARIBBEANS. Yes, they are loud, they talk with their hands, known to be feisty and unafraid, they talk seriously, and they LOVE baseball. But that is where the similarities stop! Also - NYC & MIAMI ARE VERY DIFFERENT CITIES WITH VERY DIFFERENT MINDSETS. Upscale Miami versus BX? *side eye* East coast vs South coast? major polarization!!

The conflict is going to be rich!

See, you have no-bullshit, HBIC Emerie - take no prisoners and GTFO out of her way. She doesn't give a shit who she impresses - she earned her respect and you better give it, or else she'll remind you who TF you're talking to like a real New Yorker. She ain't afraid to remind you where she came from. BX represent. Loud and proud.

Then you have little miss social butterfly, soiree queen who demands all eyes and commands attention just from walking in the room. She is tall, stunning, smart and subtle, even if her fashion is hot, red, and fierce. She looks shallow but her tongue is sharp, and she's quick to put someone in their place.

You put these two dominant personalities across battle fields, two things happen: they begrudgingly admit to respect the other for holding their fronts or b) bloodbath because tempers are SOARING! No one in their right mind would think either would hold their tongue. Shit is going to be said - and it's going to be personal.

Now, they'll have their own gunners:

Az, Cass, and Rhys are team Mor because someone needs to humble Emerie's smart mouth. About fucking time since it keeps running. Feyre holds her judgement - but that's her friend. They know Mor can ruin a life with a few words and a unblinking stare.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Elain know better. Emerie can be cut throat. That girl nearly shot a man. You think a cute little Cuban is going to hold her own against a lawyer?! The queen of roasts and arguments? CEO of these hands? Ambassador of deez streets?

You get this:

MEANWHILE - THEIR AUDIENCE:

#asks #rwylm #emorie #acotar modern au #pihu1906

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: still stalking mckenna Joe: what, we can't BOTH like music? Joe: that's gonna be problematic for me tbh Ronnie: mozarts ghost aint gonna possess him in the encore Ronnie: you can fuck off Joe: you can enjoy your night Joe: I'll take my chances Ronnie: take your chances somewhere else Ronnie: or you wont have any Joe: you looking out for me? Joe: not necessary, I promise Joe: you look like you got your hands full as is Ronnie: its a threat Ronnie: shouldnt be necessary Joe: my apologies for making you work harder but its still not cutting it Ronnie: [throws something at him in a dangerous manner watch out everyone] Ronnie: we can both be into cutting Ronnie: not a problem for me Joe: [when he's probably with his flatmate or similar like they will complain honey they basics lmao, meanwhile just like 😏] Joe: careful, people will think you care Ronnie: what fucking people Ronnie: your girlfriend Joe: for one Ronnie: muzzle your bitch or give her shit to sink her teeth into Ronnie: it aint complicated Joe: I don't think not glassing randoms is exactly rocket science either Ronnie: nothing random about you Ronnie: you fucking wish Joe: you want some projection with that Joe: I found you, remember Ronnie: wasnt hiding nancy Ronnie: not still a runaway kid Joe: then don't hide Joe: I weren't looking for you, alright Ronnie: bullshit Ronnie: you said there aint no other bastards Joe: I meant tonight Joe: this is just coincidence, nothing more Ronnie: leave then Ronnie: your buyers remorse is about as welcome as you Joe: hardly Joe: that's not what it is either Ronnie: they were all out of shiny sisters baby Ronnie: take what you can get Joe: I've already got one of them Ronnie: yeah Ronnie: i remember Joe: you don't want a refill then Joe: replace the one you tossed Ronnie: you on the spectrum or do you not wanna read social cues Joe: well I ain't leaving either way but if you don't wanna make the most outta it Joe: 👍 Ronnie: keep putting words in my mouth & see what happens to yours like Joe: what spectrum are you on if you think that constitutes a please and thanks Ronnie: take it up with your ma Ronnie: she wasnt about to teach me how to play nice Joe: not really her forte Ronnie: thats why im still waiting for my plane ticket home yeah Joe: possibly Joe: I don't know Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: how olds your good sister Joe: jury is out on good Joe: but 14 so we'll wait and see Ronnie: ill fucking drink to that Ronnie: if she was a write off shed already be Joe: depends on your perspective Joe: I try not to have one Joe: [is at bar] Ronnie: depends on your mas Ronnie: we cant all be black sheep Joe: exactly Joe: they don't really get on Joe: but she's probably just dreading the PTSD a teen pregnancy scare will bring Ronnie: should have kept me around Joe: yeah Ronnie: 1 more abortion and your country would offer me a fucking exorcism Ronnie: fun for all the family Joe: some girls have all the luck Joe: would not believe how hard it is for a lad to get one 🙄 Joe: [just putting the drinks for 'em on their table, when Charlie probs gonna flirt with you like oh hey] Ronnie: your girlfriend will let you hold her hand for her 1st Ronnie: stop sticking it in your cello & youll knock her up in no time Ronnie: [just staring at the drink like you've never seen one before] Joe: come on, she's CoE if I've ever seen it Joe: abortions? sure, but exorcisms ❌ Joe: [tryna just walk off but you know they'd be like who are you hello?! 'cos annoying lmao] Ronnie: not in ireland anymore baby Ronnie: [when you walk off like where the fuck have you got to be my dear] Joe: [at least he's not gonna drop the bomb, just being vague af like oh we met once or whatever goodbye] Joe: you gone yourself? 🛫🍀 Ronnie: on whos 💰 Joe: idk, your pals maybe Joe: but I've fucked off so he can at least top up your drink 'cos its long gone too Ronnie: wanker Ronnie: [comes back and punches charlie love you boy] Joe: [just wait 'til you have your own mindblown with that crazy connection boy] Joe: ✊ Ronnie: [gives him the biggest fuck you look ever like I can't believe you typed that] Joe: [just loling a lil 'scuse him company its not at whatever you said] Ronnie: [comes over, ignoring everyone else obvs, to drink his entire drink and walk off again] Joe: [omg stop flirting you two, everyone like what is going on tbh] Ronnie: [dancing with charlie cos he don't take kindly to being punched but you don't wanna answer his questions either] Joe: [save it for later you nosy hoe] Ronnie: [when you see his poor flatmate going to pee and follow her intimidatingly soz bitch] Joe: [this poor girl is in no way prepared lmao] Ronnie: [thinking she's about to get mugged or murdered] Joe: [when you're 18 and its your first time away from home no doubt this poor girl honestly] Ronnie: you deffo she aint catholic Ronnie: could see her in a penguin house Joe: weren't a question on the flatmate icebreakers Joe: shoulda asked for some segregrated accomodation but thought londoners were meant to be post-religion post-everything so Ronnie: 💔 it aint god its you baby Ronnie: shes no londoner Joe: no, I do know that one Joe: she's from Kent, I think Joe: or Surrey? Ronnie: not holy holier than tho Ronnie: u Ronnie: never gonna please a horse girl mckenna Joe: 😏 Joe: I'll not go there then Ronnie: charlies fucking easy to please Ronnie: youve done the 1 drink minimum & youll avoid the pregnancy scare Joe: I think he's the one that does the pleasing Joe: so I've been assured Ronnie: gets him off dont worry like Joe: I'll sleep easy now, tah Ronnie: lullabies are shit but yeah Joe: 🤞 that ain't his encore either Ronnie: if it aint opening an artery to spray the crowd count me the fuck out Joe: I wouldn't hold your breath Joe: though might be more fun Ronnie: [dramatically holds her breath in his direction like kids do] Joe: [just watching 'cos weird and into it] Ronnie: [lowkey going purple probably because you know she won't stop til she hits the deck] Joe: [just watching 'til the last sec when you obvs gonna catch her] Ronnie: [giving him a look when he does like we have to stop meeting like this but then exposing his tattoo wherever that is cos gotta check that really happened] Joe: [I hope you didn't opt for your booty, lol, probably inner bicep moment or something 'cos not that bitch getting those out at any chance] Ronnie: [just touching it like you're not shamelessly flirting with your brother okay then] Joe: [just looking at her face hardcore 'cos you can pretend you're checking her tat too] Ronnie: [when you come back to yourself and remember you're supposed to hate him for being your brother so you push him away unnecessarily hard and retreat to your corner] Joe: [go off to the bathroom yourself boy] Ronnie: [french exit while he's gone even though it'll make Charlie more annoying] Joe: [have fun Joseph] Joe: you missed the bloodbath Ronnie: made my own Joe: safer bet Joe: on all counts Ronnie: safer for your girlfriend Ronnie: & you Joe: you know she ain't my girlfriend Ronnie: no shit you dont wanna claim that conquest Joe: wrong again Joe: not gonna bang my flatmate who pays the bigger part of the rent 'cos she gets the en-suite Joe: give me some credit Ronnie: shed give you some if you gave it up to her Ronnie: but if youd rather pay rent Joe: there's no way I can keep that going 4 years Ronnie: she aint hacking it Ronnie: you can fucking smell the homesickness Joe: its like, down the road init Joe: ugh Ronnie: & Ronnie: she cant fit her horse in the en suite baby Joe: 😂 Joe: true..I'll make some rich friends to move in when she gallops off into the sunset then Ronnie: theyll not slum it with you for 4 years Joe: but I'm so charming Joe: what's the solution then, sis? Ronnie: sell yourself or kill yourself Joe: 👌 Joe: already with ya Ronnie: yeah dead connected us Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: you're the only one that's allowed to be suicidal? Ronnie: oldest cunt gets dibs Ronnie: aint that how this sibling shit plays Ronnie: whatever you wanna do ive already done it Joe: half the time Joe: but the other half is youngest gets away with it 'cos they're cuter so Ronnie: cause theyre a crybaby Ronnie: yeah you can have that soft lad Joe: 😥 bit of a prerequisite for the suicide Joe: so generous Ronnie: i left you alive so you can do yourself in Ronnie: since youve got such a boner for it Ronnie: generosity begins & ends Joe: You can stop thinking about my boners then Joe: that'll be my attempt at the virtue Ronnie: put em away Joe: you tryna expose me Ronnie: you dont need my help Ronnie: flashers keep more hidden than you Joe: really Joe: don't seem like that's something that would bother you Ronnie: youre that special mckenna Ronnie: every fucking thing you do bothers me Joe: 💘 Joe: check facebook some more, I'll keep my events up to date Joe: can avoid each other easy Ronnie: nah you see me you walk the other way Joe: I got places to be babe Ronnie: yeah a&e Ronnie: if you dont get the fuck outta my face Joe: see, you're well about it Joe: I got it, yeah, we're not family Ronnie: were nothing Ronnie: & if thats what gets you off pay for it like the other cunts do Ronnie: not my 9-5 Joe: I found Soho by myself, don't worry Joe: we're good Ronnie: boss Ronnie: stay there Joe: more expensive than Sophie's horse that Ronnie: train her up to be whatever the fuck you want then Ronnie: 4 years in she could probably kiss with tongue like Joe: you gotta ask yourself why you care Joe: 'cos I know Ronnie: i dont have to ask myself fuck all Joe: deny it then Joe: works for me Ronnie: theres no need to deny theres cunts i wanna talk to less than you Ronnie: or i that i gotta have something to do while i wait Ronnie: 💘 Joe: you're all talk Joe: say no more Ronnie: fuck you Joe: yeah fuck me Ronnie: stick your therapy speak in whatever hole you reckon can take it Ronnie: ill reverse over your head before i submit to this psychology bullshit Joe: not what I'm studying Joe: or doing Ronnie: you reckon if you say im all talk itll get you some action Ronnie: dream on motherfucker Ronnie: i dont look like her that much Joe: bold assumption Ronnie: nah Ronnie: charlies more like a brother than you & ive done everything there is to do to that tosser Joe: bold to assume I'm half as fucked up as you Joe: spent long enough telling me I can't be 'cos I got a ma and now I wanna fuck her, okay Ronnie: wearing it on your sleeve aint you though baby Ronnie: saw your arm & yeah i reckon halfs about right Ronnie: but me at 19 wouldve left you in more pieces than that Joe: you must be proud Ronnie: what the fuck of Joe: your 19 year old self Ronnie: youd have liked me better at 9 Joe: alright but a nonce joke is hardly original Ronnie: neithers wanting to fuck your ma Ronnie: read a book schoolboy Joe: that's you throwing that about Joe: not one I ask the prozzies to act out tah Ronnie: what the fuck else was your lil challenge about then Joe: what was yours? Ronnie: i didnt fire any shots shithead Joe: not true Joe: i got the 🍒 to prove it Ronnie: fuck me youre that cunt Ronnie: 1 sos & i owe you my life yeah Joe: where'd you hear that Joe: what was it, needle not clean or something Ronnie: you dont need to wait for a death that slow Ronnie: fucking do it Joe: why do you do it Ronnie: why do you give a shit what i do Joe: interesting Joe: why do you fuck with your face like that Ronnie: too late to keep it pretty for you Ronnie: should have nancy drewed this shit earlier Joe: you ain't gonna answer Joe: alright Ronnie: cant we both like pain Ronnie: is that your problem Joe: 'course Joe: no monopoly on that shit Joe: its universal, so the books say Ronnie: bullshit do you read fuck all else but sheet music Joe: not no more Joe: but i can read more than scales, like Joe: have to write essays and shit sometimes Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: save this riveting shit for your flatmates Joe: she does art Joe: dunno what the lad does, he's out his room less than me Ronnie: horse cocks out of clay like Ronnie: bet shes the professors pet Joe: 🤞 she gets in an ill-advised affair with a pervy prof Ronnie: every other repressed white bitch has done it Joe: my home is safe Joe: hooray Ronnie: til i sleuth your address Joe: then its petrol bombs and dog shit, I know Ronnie: after theres fuck all left to steal Ronnie: 🤡s in films 🔥💸 Joe: and eat six year old's arms Joe: crack on Ronnie: i aint bitten any kids since i was Joe: I'm proud even if you ain't then Ronnie: raise the bar baby Joe: guess the other lad you were with don't technically count no more Joe: actual kids are that annoying Ronnie: kids get to be annoying Joe: lucky ones Joe: the ones that get to be kids Ronnie: no shit Ronnie: youll be born & die a saint Ronnie: such a fucking martyr Joe: when God comes a calling, you can't refuse, obvs Joe: guess that's what she gets for not aborting you, nice bonus for being good Ronnie: yeah Joe: likes a joke as much as the next Joe: gutted for her Ronnie: cant take the scouse sinner out of her however much irish catholic dick shes taken since Ronnie: 💔 Joe: if its only paddys in heaven, I'll lose the invite Ronnie: you better stay in purgatory then Ronnie: dont want you in hell with me Joe: you're just jealous I'll be too busy getting tortured by some other demon Joe: you're alright, anguishing over my wrongs for eternity sounds like a bit of me Joe: I can hack it, more painful than being sodomized with pitchforks or whatever weak shit you're in store for Ronnie: wanna see your cum face even less Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: 😂 Joe: shh, you already know he's got that sick sense of humour Joe: your own clockwork orange moment for eternity now Ronnie: 💘 Joe: you ain't nothing like I thought when I was 🔎🤔 Ronnie: cheers for the romantic cliche you pussy Joe: you're that special Joe: and welcome Ronnie: what did you reckon id be like Joe: like the rest of 'em Joe: complete the cliche Ronnie: fuck off Joe: what, I did Joe: there ain't a bigger compliment, honestly Ronnie: i dont wanna hear your compliments Ronnie: or how big they are Joe: 😏 Joe: you asked Ronnie: cause i cant resist hearing how fucking soft you are Joe: that makes you pretty fucking soft yourself then don't it Ronnie: fuck you Joe: back here, yeah Ronnie: back at get someone else to knock you out Joe: shouldn't be hard Ronnie: depends how hard you are Ronnie: could be a turn on or off Joe: either way, its incentive for them to go harder Joe: can't lose, me Ronnie: enjoy yourself baby Joe: never Joe: if I lose my overwhelming urge to die what have I got Ronnie: new overwhelming urges Joe: won't be that good Ronnie: write it in your diary i didnt ask for your review Joe: you can do that you know Joe: they've all got profiles, like they're a shit local pub or something Ronnie: what a fucking state Joe: won't miss it when I'm in pugatory Ronnie: if i had a shot for every time you cried your eyes out id miss that Joe: you'd miss having a liver Joe: and functioning braincell Ronnie: didnt mean that kind of shot shithead Joe: your aim is for shit, true Ronnie: or that one Joe: ahh Ronnie: you had me at dirty needles 💘 Joe: s'worth being alive for, then? Ronnie: what the fuck waste of a question is that Joe: why? Ronnie: what do you think Joe: reason I'm asking Joe: if its just another slow way to kill yourself then I'm sound but if its more than that then its a potential for the repertoire Ronnie: if it was id have taken a faster way out Joe: its noted Ronnie: why do you wanna die Joe: its not even Joe: I ain't actually sad, soz to burst your 😥 bubble, IOU some shots, whatever Joe: just wanna turn my head off, not have to participate Joe: deal with any of it Joe: but saying you wanna be put in a coma doesn't quite have the same punch Ronnie: underline that note then Joe: yeah? Joe: not like I've never thought about it Joe: think about it a lot, hence the need for a fucking switch Joe: how cliche to look like I'm doing it to spite her though, eh? Ronnie: whatever you take now thats strawberry flavoured childhood bullshit Ronnie: youve found your prescribed dose of working adult medicine Joe: it don't touch it, not worth taking unless you wanna down half a blister at a time and have a decent kip Joe: get me some and I'll pay you 20% for your trouble Ronnie: come over Ronnie: told you im waiting Joe: alright Joe: if I ask for your current location do I give away that I'm not a decent stalker Ronnie: youve fucking shown that card bitch Joe: figured Joe: be obliging then Ronnie: [a location of who the fuck knows where cos we don't need Charlie or Bronson there for this excuse you lads] Joe: [when you need some privacy for your bonding] Ronnie: [when you need some privacy to shoot up your half brother who you ain't even told your other fam about] Joe: [fun and games] Joe: cool Joe: 🤞 i'm there just after the heroin Ronnie: get here before or ill be in no state to keep obliging you Joe: I'm yet to be initiated, my timekeeping skills are 🔥 Ronnie: give a shit about your cv Joe: I'll be there Ronnie: your loss if you aint Ronnie: dont come crying to me Ronnie: i wont hear it for fucking ages Joe: i'm not an idiot Ronnie: it dont matter who or what you are Ronnie: stopped listening after the ill be there Joe: 💘 Ronnie: get it tattooed next yeah Joe: yeah Ronnie: over the real fucker Ronnie: cause you love a cliche Joe: 'course Joe: have to find another dickhead with a gun though Joe: that one did not know his left from his right Ronnie: get what you pay for baby Ronnie: & we didnt Joe: touche Joe: I'll forgo accuracy for that Joe: and the dirty needle, obvs Ronnie: getting to put his hand on my tit will blow the brains he has like Joe: 😏 Ronnie: but if i toss him off thatll get shit back on track Joe: hot Joe: love that you have a plan Ronnie: cute Ronnie: you reckoning im pure chaos Ronnie: not your manic pixie dream skank Joe: ain't planning on being a composer Joe: least not now Joe: don't need to write about you Ronnie: 💔 Joe: make up your mind Ronnie: you aint on my mind mckenna Ronnie: dont get your balls in a twist Joe: do you wanna be on mine or not Ronnie: i know whats on yours Joe: same Joe: makes a change Ronnie: compose a song about your confusion then like Joe: less cliche than a love song Joe: still Ronnie: do it from the pov of the horse Ronnie: be a hit with your flatmate Joe: you just wanna get me stalked Joe: paybacks a bitch, yeah Ronnie: wanna get your habit paid for before you start it Ronnie: throw her a boner Ronnie: whats the fucking drama Joe: i don't fancy her Joe: nor having the convo about where all her moneys going Ronnie: & Ronnie: i dont fancy the cunt with the tattoo gun Ronnie: got fuck all to do with it Joe: & Joe: you're lowering standards, not getting anything up Ronnie: close your eyes & think of gear Ronnie: youll do anything for a horse like that Joe: let me try it first Ronnie: dont need to hear about your trust issues baby Joe: better stop talking now then Ronnie: yeah Ronnie: shut the fuck up Joe: [you know when its like 'removed message' that] Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: what Ronnie: i cant cut your sense of humour out Ronnie: cant live with it Joe: no funny business Joe: just a buttdial Ronnie: charlie aint here but adorable that you 2 homos hit it off Joe: just scousers gotta stick together or did you know him from back home Ronnie: he didnt give you the rundown Ronnie: mustve made him speechless mckenna Joe: too busy trying to work out how I knew you Ronnie: we grew up together Ronnie: & the mime standing next to us Joe: cool Ronnie: nah Ronnie: fucked Joe: I mean that you still know 'em, talk to 'em Ronnie: we aint trying to throw our family away for a new one Joe: like I said, s'cool Ronnie: like i said hes gonna eat that shit up Ronnie: you fawning over his family set up Joe: good to know Joe: not really my type either, call me fussy Ronnie: fucks sake Ronnie: join the god squad now & save yourself the 12 steps Joe: 'cos I don't wanna do a bloke or my horse girl roommate Ronnie: cause you only wanna do your ma Joe: you can't just give me dud options and come to that conclusion Ronnie: we playing fuck marry kill now Joe: not playing nothing with you Joe: cheater Ronnie: crybaby Joe: you'll 😥 when I have to kill your mate Ronnie: you wish Joe: making people cry is your thing Joe: I don't need to fight that claim Ronnie: like you aint been wanting to save me again since the 1st time Ronnie: thats your thing yeah Joe: save you from what? Joe: smack? obviously not Joe: other self-destructive tendencies? try again Ronnie: it obviously dont matter Ronnie: id never seen you & id still never seen a cunt more excited to do a rescue Joe: and I'd never seen you Joe: maybe you'd got all kinds of fucked up 'cos of all the shit I dragged up Joe: basic decency ain't nothing to get excited about Ronnie: i know how to self soothe im a big girl now Joe: didn't need you self-soothing yourself to death on my conscience Ronnie: didnt ask you to give a shit Ronnie: catholic guilts best left at home baby Ronnie: youll never find a place with the cockneys Joe: about myself? Joe: its barely but hanging on by a thread Joe: soz Joe: dead girls fuck you up Ronnie: not your type either then Joe: ultimate type Joe: don't wanna commit right now, tah Ronnie: 🤞 i od & you can finally sort your misery boner out Joe: too giving you Ronnie: im dead i aint giving a shit Joe: put that on the headstone Ronnie: pay for it you write whatever cliche you want Joe: you want a classy picture affair Joe: got it Ronnie: stop getting me Ronnie: it makes me wanna blow my brains out Joe: its obvious you wanna be seen Joe: no spooky sibling connection required Ronnie: fuck off Joe: what's better than ruining a graveyards ambiance for the mourners for the forseeable Ronnie: theres no room in the ground soft lad Joe: they just chuck you in with the old bones Joe: or 'move' them Ronnie: hot Joe: mhmm Joe: plague pit is the way to go Ronnie: fit the horse & the girl Ronnie: how fucking romantic Joe: that's me Ronnie: ill put john in the 💘 for you baby Ronnie: your ma robbed you blind of so many lennon comparisons Joe: still time to be pretentious with soph Joe: fuck off getting out of bed for good Ronnie: smother her with a pillow & fuck her corpse youll be feeling peace & love Joe: 💎🍓💘 Ronnie: playing with emojis & yourself aint getting you here Ronnie: hurry up Joe: can't make you any closer Ronnie: 💔

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 6 years

Text

Kindred • Part 5

AN: Settle in you guys this one's longer than part 4 like I promised. It's honestly my first time writing smut too, but I know y'all little nasties are probably tired of waiting and I think Erik is wearing Y/N down.

Warnings: Language, Smutty smutt smut, run on sentences, some fluff, mostly filth

The car turns into Brit's neighborhood and rolls into the driveway. Your eyes fly to Erik's and he releases your hand to unhook his seatbelt and yours too. He gestures with his head to the house, "come on." With uncertainty, you exit the vehicle, looking around. Erik's already at the front door with his keyring flashing in the sunlight. You catch up and enter the house after him. "Get your shit," he breathes, zipping around the kitchen, slamming cabinets, jars, and closets.

"I thought you weren't supposed to return to the scene of a crime?" He ignores you. You stare at Brit's bedroom door. Last time you opened it, there was a bloodbath. Your spine feels a familiar chill. Just then you see Erik spring forward into your vision, pushing the door open. It's clean. The blankets have been replaced and there's no trace of blood anywhere. You let the trapped breath you've been holding escape. Erik is rummaging through drawers and closets. Your eyes find your laptop and textbooks. You grab them and your shoes and that's all that's yours. You awkwardly take a seat on the living room couch to skim quickly through the assigned reading chapters of your textbook while you wait for Erik's looting spree to end. He peaks out of Brit's room, locs falling casually over his almond eyes. "Come here."

You instantly leave your belongings on the couch and move. This is not a place to mess around in. Once inside the room, Erik presses a black outfit into your arms complete with sneakers, "Put this on." You were with Brit when she ordered these clothes from Fashion Nova. Why did she have to be a murderer? How did you not know? "I can't fit her clothes," you say. Brit was curvy but her midsection especially and her thighs were smaller than yours. Her feet were a half-size bigger, however, so you knew the shoes would work. "It's a tracksuit, it stretches," he stretches the band on the pants and then the fabric. "It's actually a tennis... court set," you trail off. He looks at you like you're stupid and you don't really blame him right now. "HURRY UP," he snaps. His freaking mood swings are blowing you. You take the clothes to the bathroom and take a look at your reflection. There's sleep and crust around your eyes. You already knew you had morning breath. Your curls are still there but really frizzy. "Cute my ass," you mutter mortified. He'd called you cute earlier but he MUST have been sleep deprived. You find a towel and washcloth and jump in the shower, soaping up and washing as quickly as possible.

You hear the bathroom door open and Erik's voice outside of the shower curtain. You cover yourself as best as you can, anticipating a curtain snatch but instead you hear, "How you feel about lingerie?" "Nigga what?" you squeak peaking your head from the behind the curtain. He's holding a pink lacy bra and thong. You're confused until you realize that's the only thing that hasn't been worn yet by Brit. It's new. "Can't have you marking up other bitc-- women's underwear," he corrects himself, "dead or alive." Your face scrunches, "nigga I'm clean I don't know what type of women you've been dealing with." "Well I definitely ain't fucked your roommate.. it was close but I smelled that muhfukka on my finger and-" "UGH MY GOD YOU'RE DISGUSTING," you cut him off returning to the water. "Nah THAT was disgusting," he retorts.

"Shit... I might need another shower just thinking about that shit... move over." And just like that you hear him stripping. "I know the fuck you aint!" You yell peaking past the curtain again. There is a tall brown wall of tapered muscle before you. You gape openly in awe as he steps out of his pants. His prominent chest and shoulders flex. You forget yourself for a second and focus on the meticulous pattern of keyloids scarring his chest, stomach, and biceps. You hadn't noticed them before on his forearms, but now you could see a couple. "Ask me," he commands snapping you back to reality. Rudely, you'd been gawking at his scars but he doesn't seem all that mad. "Cicatrisation," you say, "it's a type of scarification that can represent a social, political, or religious role.. or viewpoint, I guess," his eyebrow raises. He's impressed. "I never thought I'd see something like this in person. What does yours mean?" He drops his boxers then and your eyes drop on their own. Now you're the one who's impressed and honestly a little terrified as the elephant trunk sways in your direction.

Erik snatches the shower curtain back and hops in. Your eyes are wide, "GET OUT!" Your soapy hands shove him but he pulls you into a tight embrace, like an anaconda, your arms tight against your sides. His actual anaconda is pressed against your front. You bite down on his chest hoping to cause pain and you feel the anaconda pressed between you twitch. "Stop," he whispers low into your ear, breath grazing your neck. He places a small kiss where his breath caressed. Your knees go to jelly and you slowly lose the tension in your body. Your thoughts jumble but your pride won't let you succumb. You feel his tongue roll over that sensitive spot on your neck and then his full lips lock on in a passionate suction. You start to melt into him and one of his hands glide to grip your ass. Your now free arm grabs his waist and your thigh rises. Before your mind can catch up to your body, your leg is wrapped around him. His increasingly sloppy kisses trail your collarbone and you throw your head back releasing a small whimper, breathing shallow. He smirks, trailing those sloppy kisses down your torso. "Mmm," he growls as his hands squeeze, grip, and fondle their way from your titties to your plush midsection to your hips. The feverish kisses continue down and his beard nuzzles between your thighs. You allow them to part. His expert tongue dances between your slick folds, gliding with ease and before you know it, you're flush against the shower wall with your leg over his shoulder. His tongue continues to explore, plunging into your wetness and back up to tease your sensitive clit, running over it until your entire body is on fire. You thrust your hips and he smirks sucking the engorged bud into his mouth. Your hand travels over his head and fists through his locs, using them to anchor him closer. He groans deeply into you, squeezing your ass and slapping one the cheeks. The sting only contributes to your quickly building orgasm. You roughly grind yourself against his face until your mouth drops open and you feel your orgasm rip through you as you cry out. "Mhm," he moans encouragingly and slaps your ass again. His thick middle finger slips into you followed by his index and they massage your gspot. A desperate moan floats from your lips and you remember Brit the night she died... well, was murdered.The tight lock on your thigh and the shocking intensity of your rising orgasm distracts you from those thoughts. Your eyes clamp shut and you can hear the obscene wetness sloshing around Erik's fingers. "Mhm," he murmers again, muffled. "Gimme that cum." As if triggered, your body jerks and you try to push him off just a little as you feel yourself begin to shake but his unrelenting mouth continues its rude assault. Your climax is loud and hard and he finally allows you to push him away as you struggle to come down. He turns the water off and hops out the shower, toweling off with your towel. He reaches back to you, a heavy breathing mess, and dries you too. Your still stuck on what the fuck just happened. He grabs mouthwash from under the sink and holds it up to your mouth. You remember your bad breath. Oh God! You lunge at the liquid and gargle like a madwoman. Erik redresses quickly and exits the bathroom. "Hurry up, we gonna be late," he calls back gently. He's not yelling this time, you note. You dress quicker than you've ever dressed before, not really mad at the fit of the outfit. He was right. You find gel under the sink and slick your hair into a little bun and then you're out.

Erik's not in the house, but neither is your laptop or textbooks. You rush from the house and find your way back to the passenger seat. The car's already running. "Seatbelt," he reminds you before pulling off. You rest your head on the headrest and catch your breath. His hand finds its way back to yours.

"Your scars.." you murmer, "what do they represent?" He grins as you study his profile. You are taken by his cute little dimple. He uses the hand holding yours to turn the radio on, but you switch it back off, grabing his hand again. His grin expands. "You really want to know?" He teases.

"You want me to know, but yes, I really want to know."

He pauses and you wait.

"Before I answer that, you should know.. two things."

"Okay...?" You wait.

"Our fathers were a part of something that went far beyond them.. beyond us. Even now, it's bigger than me and you. They were Wakandans. For generations their people lived completely removed from the rest of the world, flourishing and content to watch us suffer. I've been around the world and seen a lot of shit so trust me when I say they have intelligence and resources.. weapons capable of withstanding almost any force.. stronger than anything we know. Imagine a country of the blackest niggas you know, rich Mansa Musa muhfuckas.. sleep for decades on decades. Transatlantic slave trade happened right under their noses, what they do? Turn em up. Our people are enslaved all over the globe, slaughtered, facing gross injustice everyday. They could stop it if they want to, free us all, but they don't give a fuck!"

You blink.. "Make it real," you murmer trying to understand.

"Your dad wanted to free our people all over the globe. Put vibranium in the hands of black people everywhere."

"Vibranium?" You ask.

"Strongest metal known to man. In Wakanda, they lace it in everything. The weapons, the architecture, even the clothing. Who knows, they probably eat the shit."

You stare at his hand clenched on the steering wheel. He notices your stare and relaxes his hand, but you can see in his body language that he's still tense.

"You want Wendy's?"

"Don't change the subject," you squeeze the hand in yours almost begging with your eyes for more information.

"Our dads left the comfort of Wakanda and went against the king's orders to bring vibranium to states. They wanted everyone free, not just a few, and for that they were murdered. I came home from playing basketball one night to find my daddy laying there with panther claws in his chest!"

Your eyes widen and you can feel his pain in your chest, choking you. His rage fills the car and it's almost tangible. In fact, you realize you're pretty angry too. You raise his hand to your face and kiss his knuckles. After a few moments the both of you calm down.

Hesitant to set him off, you ask quietly, "Panther claws? I thought it was his people who did it.."

"You know Spiderman? Iron Man? Hulk?"

"Oh yeah!" You chirp finally having recognized something he said. You'd seen them all over tv and in the news. They'd never flown into your part of town though.

"It's like that only this nigga dress like a fuckin cat. He goes by Black Panther and he's the king of Wakanda."

"Wait like the Panther Party?"

"He don't deserve that fuckin name."

"So the king of Wakanda.. a man who calls himself Black Panther killed your dad..." you piece together slowly.

"That ain't even the best part," Erik smirks with no humor and you're shocked this messed up story could get even more convoluted.

"They were brothers."

Your head spins as you put two and two together. "The king killed his own brother in cold blood.. for trying to help black people.. and then left him.."

You look at Erik and he's nodding along to each each word you say.

"Left him... for you, a kid, to find."

He nods. You're furious now. "WHAT THE FUCK," you yell. At least you didn't see your father's body. You were told he'd just died. "They just left you here...alone.." you trail off getting lost in your thoughts. Erik nods, "Us.."

You exhale an angry breath. "They truly don't give a fuck.." You're amazed by that concept.

"Wait.. if the brother of the king was your father then does that make you... a prince?"

He nods and your stomach drops. What did you get yourself into?

"Number two.. Your dad smuggled vibranium from Wakanda and they reclaimed a lot of it, but there's some he hid and some he sold that's gotten into the wrong hands. I'm trying to locate that and get it into my hands."

"Well shit," you breathe. You didn't even know vibranium existed until now.

"That necklace you're wearing.."

You touch the necklace you've had since birth.

"It's vibranium," he says.

For a moment you wonder if the only reason he's being nice to you is to get to the vibranium, but to then again he could've taken your necklace at any point and you never would've known. He could've killed you or even tortured whatever information from you. Then you steel... what if.. what if he's fucking it out of me? You pause, lost in fast running thoughts.

"Damn.. calm down," he laughs. He'd been watching your reactions. The smile on his face hits you and you find yourself thinking maybe, just maybe... you don't mind if he uses you to get vibranium. Maybe you'd let him. Afterall, you didn't even know about it until he told you.. and in that shower earlier.. it sure felt good to be used.

"What do your scars represent," you demand now, not asking.

He pulls up to your campus, the building your class is located in nearing. Suddenly you don't want to leave. You eye him closely and finally he relents.

"People I've killed..." he states seemingly unashamed. His eyes lock with yours, alight with humor. You're shocked, but it doesn't register on your face because you suspected he'd be capable of something like this. You'd seen the darkness in his eyes and you'd seen a small piece of his rage.

"How many people?"

He pulls up right in front of your building and stops in the middle of the road. "Go to class," he grins. You grab your stuff and open the door but make no move to leave. You're almost 5 minutes late anyway. Horns blare behind you as you hold up the already busy traffic. He's obviously amused by all of this.

"How many?" You demand, eyes locking again.

He drags it and there're more aggressively pissed off car honks. He flips off the car behind you without breaking eye contact. Little does he know you could play this game all morning.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," you yell, channeling him.

"I kinda figured you were a squirter.. You squirted all over my damn beard today, I can still taste you.. What you got to say about that?"

Your face heats and your voice wavers, "Erik, I'm not playing with you.."

Beeeep! Beep beep beep. HOOONK!

You stare through his smug grin.

"2,200.. Maybe more."

You hop out the vehicle and slam the door, but not too hard because it's beautiful. He pulls off and you watch until the car disappears. That was the fastest abduction you've ever experienced. You check your phone. You're late, but you made it. With one final glance back, you walk to class.

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