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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

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(to the tune of Avril Lavigne's sk8terboi)

He was a human battering ram.

She was a recon sniper.

Can I make it any more obvious?

Headcannons - Fit for a King - König x fem!OC fanfic

Instead of making a y/n fic, I decided to create an original female character because I ususally write all of my stuff in POVs. Due to posting the chapters often right after I've written them some of the context and the characterization might not be explicit in every single piece, some of the information is only gonna get revealed down the road.

(TW: alcoholism, death, violence)

Karina Müller is almost 30 years old, she served in the Norwegian military from right after school until the death of her brother who was KIA on a mission together. She fell off the wagon after that, feeling responsible for his death and effectively being shunned by her family after that. Her pick of poison was alcohol and it got so bad that she more than once was drunk on the job which led to her getting kicked out.

The years after that she spent getting help, trying to get clean and going back to a civilian life, but the military was what she knew, so the civilian jobs didn't stick and she started to work as a mercenary, now a dry alcoholic. Which might be an issue for some contractors, but KorTac doesn't really bat an eye.

She's a compassionate person who loves to laugh, she's seen enough shit not to take any from her teammates and can stand her ground when faced with any challenge thrown her way. She's still working through some stuff, coming to terms with her past, but she has an optimistic spirit and a strong will.

Even though the Colonel seems scary at first, she learns pretty quickly that he is to be respected in training and on the battlefield, but on a personal level he's really not that bad. The 6'10'' killing machine, Austrian war criminal (insert "what murdeeer?!"-meme here) is quite an anxious person when it comes to basic human interaction.

Shouting orders at his team, stomping his enemies into the ground is more comfortable to him than just talking about mundane stuff with other people, he mostly keeps to himself (except for Horangi because that little shit would never leave him alone). And for the first time in a long time, Müller makes him wish that he could just go up to people and strike up a normal conversation like a normal person (don't we all).

König is 38 years old (we don't know his full name) and has the biggest metalhead dad vibes without actually having any children himself (his favourite band is Death, although he listens to a bunch of different ones, it's also their merch shirt Müller steals in "Are you wearing my t-shirt?").

When he started out in the military, he shaved his long metalhead hair off because that was the way to go back then, but he let it grow back when he was older and already Colonel. He has gauged ears and a plethora of tattoos all over his body because the soft pain of body modifications and working out until he almost passes out are his ways of dealing with his anxiety and stress. His body is a testament to that.

He has a huge scar on the right side of his face from when he got beaten to a pulp by his bullies at school, something he never let happen again after that (five on one was really unfair). His nose has been broken two times and sometimes his tattoos get destroyed by battle injuries, but he doesn't really care about that - or his looks in general. He's a soldier and not a model.

So the reason why he's always wearing the selfmade hood is not the scar. He prefers not to show his feelings to others, staying hidden underneath the mask for his own comfort, even if it makes him scarier also in situations where he doesn't want to be.

(CW: some nsfw headcannons ahead, talk about not wanting to have children) They're both switches, though König is leaning more on the Dom-side while Müller is a sub who likes to brat a little too much, just to see her man falter (for example when she calls him a good boy in random scene #1).

Müller is bisexual, something she discovered when serving in an all-women-taskforce of the Norwegian military (we don't really know about König's sexuality though). She decided a long time ago that she doesn't want to have children (she doesn't see herself leaving service again anytime soon and given her past, she doesn't see herself fit to become a mother), so she got her tubes tied. Which also comes in handy when a certain Colonel's favourite pasttime (well, actually second favourite) is leaving creampies inside her (no 'unexpected pregnancy' trope in this household).

König definitely eats pussy for his own pleasure, begging Müller to let him eat her out in "Sit" or losing a little friendly competition for a sexual favour in "But no funny business" (oh and he definitely steals her panties at any chance he gets). She's totally not opposed to servicing him as well, but the size of his dick makes this a whole endeavour (like seen in "Open wide, Prinzessin").

They match each other's energy pretty well, just going at it like rabbits at every chance they get, which sometimes proves to be difficult as they're sneaking around in secret.

Their arrangement is kind of a fuckbuddy/fwb-situation, they fuck hard and rough, without ever really kissing (the mask stays on), but after a while feelings start to get in the way... After all they do belong together <3

Read more at the Fit for a King - Masterlist or keep an eye out for the AO3 link - coming soon.

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #female oc

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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The Stranger 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You keep a frantic pace away from Clyde's place. Well, it isn't his anymore. You realise then you didn't get a name. You didn't get much of anything. Oh god. That was horrible. You told your grandmother you didn't want to bother. That man doesn't need a pie.

You come to the end of the drive and turn down the country road. At least it's good exercise. You shrug to yourself and cringe as you try to shake off the humiliation. Just stop thinking about it.

'Pie.'

Ugh, could you not think of anything else to say? You mutter to yourself about how stupid you are. What are you going to tell your grandma? She'll have a thousand questions, as nosy as she is.

As you carry on, wiping your sweaty palms on your flowy linen pants, you hear a rumbling. It's the familiar noise of a farmer's truck. You sidle over on the shoulder to make way for the passerby. To your surprise and chagrin, they don't pass. Instead, they slow and keep a snailish pace with you.

"Hey," the man calls. You know it's the stranger, his voice is stamped in your head; 'pie'. His eyes too. His bold blue irises stormy like the ocean. "Hey, let me give you a ride. Must be quite a ways you came down here."

"It's okay," you refuse to look over, "I'm fine."

"It's not too much trouble. I'm headed into town for some supplies. Maybe you know where I can find some chain."

He revs the truck, idling then bouncing forward with each step you make. You ball your fists tight as you stomp on. Why won't he let you go hide in shame?

"It was real sweet to bring that pie," he says, "what kind was it? I couldn't tell."

"Rhubarb," you answer, still bearing down on the country road. "I can walk, sir."

"I... I hope I didn't scare you," he says.

You're silent. You stalk onward. Home, home, always so far away. His stick shift cranks and the truck stops. He leaves it running as the door pops open and his footsteps march over the pavement onto the gravel.

"Will you please stop?" He comes up behind you, "look, where I'm from, we keep things even. You brought me a pie, I'll give you a ride."

You just want him to leave you alone. He might go away quicker if you just let him drive you. Then again, you don't like the idea of being alone in a car with him.

"No thank you."

"Hmm," he as good as growls, "you're the first unfriendly face I've met around here."

"I'm not..." you let your voice trail off, "sorry sir, but it's not far."

"Then it's no big thing."

"I like to walk," you squeak.

"Damn stubborn," he comments as he stops.

You keep going as his footsteps trail away. You don't look back as his engine roars again. He falls back into the same pattern as before, lurching forward little by little with your steps. You want him to go away so badly. You have tears in your eyes.

You look across the field. The Berrys are nice people. You gauge the distance to the trees. There's an old path you haven't been along since Cassidy still lived at home, your old babysitter.

You veer suddenly and fall into a sprint across the expanse of tall grass. You must look ridiculous but you've already made such a fool of yourself that it hardly matters. You're not really thinking, you're panicking.

You hear his engine stop and grumble in place. You pump your arms as you race over the flat ground and disappear behind the old well and down towards the brush. Your lungs burn but you don't stop. You can't.

He wouldn't follow you, would he?

You don't stop until you have to. You gasp and gulp and peer over your shoulder into the trees. There's nothing but the moss and scrambling critters. You stumble and lean on a thick trunk.

Great. You really outdid yourself. That man must think you're insane. Maybe you are.

You catch your breath and set back on the path home. Too bad the village is so small. The only way you'll never run into him again is if you take on a self-imposed exile.

Or you could just become a hermit.

You come in sight of your grandma's house. She's on the porch, swaying in the bench swing as she crochets. You tramp up the steps as she glance over without turning her head.

“That was quick,” she comments. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“You're a mess,” she scowls at your pants, mud splattered up the chambray.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you shrug. “Just took a shortcut.

“Mhmm, aren't you going to tell me about them?”

“Um,” you move to lean on the porch railing, “it was just some guy.”

“Some guy?” She wonders, needles clacking. “Young, old?”

“Er, I guess, pretty young…”

“So no wife? Single, hm,” she mulls.

“I think. I didn't ask.”

“Well, what's his name?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She narrows her eyes.

“I didn't… get it.”

“Ugh,” she frowns, “I should've gone myself but my hip. I'll have to call Lynette and see if she's heard anythinf else.”

“Sorry,” you pout.

“Well, you never were very social,” she tuts, “but I'd say you're more than old enough to learn. I'd like to have a great grandchild or two before I'm in the ground.”

“Grandma,” you exclaim, “don't talk like that.”

“You need me too. You need sense. You have no sense of urgency, dear. In a place like this, that's saying something.”

You deflate and throw your hands up, “sorry to disappoint… again.”

You push yourself off the railing and drag your feet towards the door.

“Oh don't be a child,” she reproaches.

You ignore her snipe, “what do you want for dinner?”

“Already in the oven,” she states tritely, “silly me, I thought you might invite the new neighbour to meet me, since I'm a but limited at the moment.”

“I… didn't think.”

She hums in disapproving agreement. You continue inside before she can make you feel any smaller. You know you're behind, you always have been. You're just as disappointed as she is.

#destroyer!chris #destroyer #chris x reader #dark!destroyer!chris #drabble #series #the stranger #au #backwoods au

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capt-mactavish · 1 year

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POW

Summary: Male reader whose part of the 141 gets captured during a mission and the team rallies to rescue them.

Warnings for: Graphic depictions of injury, torture, violence

Pairings: None, not really. Soap x M!Reader or Ghost x M!Reader if you squint I guess, but I didn’t write this with pairings in mind.

Authors note: I have not played the game, I’m poor, so if the characters are ooc please forgive me. I’m going by the fics and drabbles I’ve read.

Part 1/?

Pt 2 Pt. 3

Sacrifice

“Gaz, I’m gonna make you an opening! Get out of here! I’ll be right behind you!” you shout over the gunfire.

Gaz looks reluctant, but nods anyway.

You turn your attention back to the fire fight, and empty your last magazine as you lay down cover fire for your companion to get away.

“Go! Go!” you shout, watching out of your peripheral as Gaz makes a break for it through a doorway that leads outside.

Ducking back down behind the makeshift barricade you’ve taken cover behind, you pat yourself down for any spare ammunition. To no avail. All you have left is a knife and a grenade.

You curse.

It will have to do.

Lobbing the device over the barricade, you ready your knife and wait for the grenade to go off before exiting cover to run after your companion.

There’s a lull in the gunfire, but you barely register it as your heart pounds in your head, legs pushing you forward as fast as you can muster yourself to go.

You’re nearly there. You can almost reach out and touch the wood frame of the doorway Gaz had run through just moments before. He’s probably already regrouped with the rest of the team by now, waiting for you to join them.

A lone gunshot rings out, and before you can process the pain in your knee, your leg gives out and sends you to the floor. The knife in your hand knocked out of your grasp, sliding across the floor.

“Gah!” A pained sound manages to rip itself out of your dry throat as the pain finally blooms in your kneecap.

The sound of footsteps behind you has your heart leaping into your throat and you scramble for the knife. But just as your fingers brush the handle of the blade, a boot stomps down on your hand.

You hiss, and dare to look up at your assailant, only to see the butt of a rifle coming down at your head before everything goes dark.

---

“Gaz, you made it! Where’s (Y/C/S)?” Soap calls out as Gaz jogs up to the rest of the team. Ghost is tying a cloth around Johnny’s arm, reddening from a wound where he was clipped by a bullet.

“We were pinned down… (Y/C/S) covered my exit… said he’d be right behind me,” Gaz huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Gaz turns around, and everyone else looks past him as well, expecting you to come round the corner any moment.

Seconds pass, nothing. Not even any sounds indicating your approach. Even the gunfire in the distance back where Gaz had come from had ceased and an unnerving silence had fallen over the battlefield.

“Maybe-” Soap starts, but a single gunshot cuts him off and he, Gaz and Ghost are already running.

By the time they get there, though, the building is clear. No one, save for the enemy corpses you and Gaz had managed to bring down in your firefight, was left inside.

“He said he’d be right behind me,” Gaz says again, his voice wavering, and Ghost gives him a pat on the shoulder as he walks past, a silent comfort that he isn’t to blame.

“L.t., I’ve got something,” Soap says, his voice laced with disappointment.

On the ground, just inside the doorway, (Y/C/S)’s knife lay discarded on the ground, along with splatters of fresh blood and the tell-tale signs that a body had been dragged away.

“They got ‘im,” says Soap, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

“Fuck!” Gaz curses, and kicks at a piece of old wooden furniture, smashing it to pieces.

“We going after them then, L.t.?” Soap speaks up again, an edge to his voice this time, a quiet rage building within him.

You hadn’t been with the 141 long, but in that short time you had, Soap had already grown fond of you. They all have. Especially Gaz, who had practically become your best friend and teamed up with often.

You fell in with the group so easily, like you had always belonged with them, even Ghost seemed to enjoy your presence among them.

Ghost looks up from where he had been quietly studying the scene, dark eyes taking in every bit of information to be gleaned from what was left.

“Negative,” he answers, his tone low and dangerous. Then he turns and makes for the exit.

Soap blinks, confused, and looks over to Gaz, who looks equally as baffled by the Lieutenants response.

“Sir-” A protest already on the tip of Soap’s tongue, moving to follow him. But when Ghost whirls back around on him, the Scotsman’s lips clamp shut.

“They’re long gone, Johnny. And right now we’re not equipped to go after them. But make no mistake,” Ghost loomed over the Sergeant, brows knitted in what Soap could tell was a menacing scowl under the skull mask. “We will get him back,”

His eyes flick over to Gaz as he finishes, “Mark my words.”

---

You awake in the dark, tied to a chair by your wrists and ankles, presumably with some sort of sack over your head.

The first thing you feel is the pain from the blow to the head that knocked you out. The second is the bullet still lodged in your kneecap and the third is the cold that seems to have settled into your bones, making you shiver.

As you test your restraints, the leg of the chair you’re in scrapes slightly against the floor and the sound echoes around the room, telling you it’s probably some sort of jail cell. And as the bag is snatched off your head, you find your deductions to be correct.

The only thing in the room save for you and your chair is your captor, who stands in front of you, and a few guards by the barred entrance. The walls are made of a dingy concrete that look about as bad as you feel. Stained with who knows what, indicating you’re probably not the first person to have taken up residence here. The only source of light comes from behind you, you assume a small window high up on the wall that lets in the most pathetic amount of sunlight imaginable.

“Good morning,” your captor taunts, giving you a sick smirk. “I’m sure you understand the… situation you are in.”

You remain silent, giving your captor the nastiest glare you could manage.

The man continues, using his hands as he speaks in an almost casual manner, “This doesn’t have to be difficult. Your stay here can be as long or as short as you would like. It’s all up to you. I just have a few questions, and if you answer them honestly, you are free to go. Understand?”

Your lips, chapped and cracked from dehydration, curl back from your teeth in a snarl.

“What makes you think I would tell you anything?”

Your captor sighs deeply and clicks his tongue, circling around to stand behind you.

“Shame. But you underestimate,” a rope falls over your head, and by the time you realize it’s a noose, it’s already tightened threateningly around your throat, pulling a choked sound from you as your airway is constricted. “In the end, we will get what we want.”

---

The days drag on, and the 141 are no closer to finding you than the day you were taken. Everyone has run themselves ragged trying to gain intel on your whereabouts, especially Ghost, whom Price has had to order to rest on more than one occasion.

Everyone is exhausted and on edge, but hope is not lost, and when Gaz comes back with intel on a possible location, they all spring to action.

“Sergeant, are you sure about this?” asks Price, going over the plan in the meeting room with the rest of the team.

“No,” Gaz answers honestly, “But at present it’s all we’ve got, sir.”

“Why are we debatin’ this?” Soap chimes in, and all eyes are on him. “We should be stormin’ this place. Even if (Y/N)’s not there, we might find something else that could point us in the right direction. Besides,”

A dark expression crosses Soap’s features and he cracks his knuckles, “Wouldn’t mind cracking a few skulls in the meantime.”

A hush falls over the team as Soap’s words are considered. But it doesn’t last long, as Ghost’s voice breaks the silence.

“Agreed. If there’s a chance, Captain, we should take it.”

Everyone’s attention is back on Price, who is looking around the table at the team in turn, noting the determination in their expressions.

“Right,” Price says at last. “Ready up. Let’s bring our boy home.”

To be continued...

#mw2 141 #cod fanfic #male reader #cod x male reader #141 x male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

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scaralvr · 2 years

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05. outside of school chapter five to the secrecy of our confessions [masterlist]

synopsis: scaramouche gets dragged to an outing with his sisters but his frown turns upside down when he sees you (n/n) = nickname

"KUNIKUZUSHI, YOU DICKHEAD, PAY ATTENTION!" mona screamed as fischl trudged around the clothing store, attempting to be a random person passing by. scaramouche hummed and waved his hand, not looking up from his phone. mona clenched her jaw so hard she swore she heard it clack.

she stomped over to where he was sitting outside of the changing rooms. mona pressed her index fingertip to his forehead rather harshly, "i didn't bring you along on this outing for nothing! now, how do you think this skirt looks on me?" scaramouche brought his phone closer to his face, tucking his knees in, "i think it makes your ass look even smaller than it already is." mona gasped.

fischl looked through the countless racks of clothing, trying to ignore the stares the people gave her siblings. she nervously whistled, making her way back to them. "may we please, please, please go now? i beg of you!" she whined, clinging onto mona's arm.

mona rolled her eyes, "oh, fine. get up off your ass, kunikuzushi and let's go." scaramouche didn't reply. she tapped her foot, raising her brow with a menacing glare. fischl gripped onto her older sister's shirt, "may i propose a suggestion, sister?... we could leave 'mouche to his own business for a bit and then come back-"

in one swift move, mona snatched scaramouche's phone.

"aha!" she snickered with a victorious grin. scaramouche attempted to run forward to grab it but failed when mona put her arms up high. "GIVE IT BACK, YOU, YOU-" he gritted his teeth, "YOU BITCH!" an old woman nearby gasped and people began to mutter.

mona laughed, tears growing in her eyes from the sheer ridicule, "oh, name calling, are we now, mister loverboy?" she teased, pointing at your twitter dm he was previously texting. scaramouche gawked, "shock!" (spyxfamily anya reference real) he shook his head and pushed her to the ground, "GIVE IT!"

fischl's mouth was left agape as she anxiously watched the twins go for each other's throats, "ah..." after much hair yanking and biting, yes, biting, the manager of the store had to kick them out from the amount of customer complaints. mona scoffed, "the clothes there were pricy anyways. come along!" she declared, leading the way.

scaramouche angrily blew a strand of hair away from his face, due to the fact that mona had confiscated his phone and shoved it away in her purse. and he was just starting a good conversation with you. fischl's eyes lit up as she tugged at her brother's sleeve, "look, look!"

scaramouche groaned, "fisch', i'm not interested in seeing those video game characters with huge boobs and thigh highs for no reason-" he froze when he pin-pointed where his sister was looking at. "it's..."

"(y/n)!" hu tao exclaimed, running over to grab your hands. she giggled, "c'mon, you slow-poke; the rest of us have been waiting for a decade now. you're always last to arrive at our little meet-ups outside of school!" she joked, poking fun at you. you nervously chuckled, "sorry, you know my parents. they held me up with studying for the upcoming exams," you explained with a smile.

hu tao led you to the cafe, "oh, really? i never study for anything, i'm just that good at it." she winked and you laughed. scaramouche instantly ran up to mona, "i'm hungry!" he said, a little too loud. mona scanned him up and down, "okay... and?" scaramouche pointed to the cafe with an innocent smile, "let's go there."

mona and fischl flinched together. "he never smiles... unless he's done a brutal thing or is planning something." mona thought to herself, suspecting scaramouche's odd behaviour. she flipped her hair, "fine." scaramouche could hardly contain a genuine grin from slipping.

"ooh, this place smells rather pleasant!" fischl commented as mona dragged her by the arm, "don't get distracted, fischl." in the meanwhile, scaramouche looked left and right, searching for your whereabouts. "i'll just have a frap and what do you two want?" mona asked, taking out her credit card.

fischl excitedly raised her hand, "a carrot muffin!" scaramouche bit down on his lip to stifle a smile as he saw you. "and you, kunikuzushi?" mona queried. he didn't look at her, eyes lingering upon your attractive face as you conversed with your friends, "oh... i'll just have a wichsand- i-i mean, sandwich," scaramouche corrected himself with a lovesick gaze.

mona mocked a gagging sound while sticking her finger down her throat and scaramouche shouted, "HEY, WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" you perked up at the familiar voice at the same time. "say, you seem a little distracted today (y/n)," yun jin tittered. yoimiya squealed, "oh, it's him, isn't it!?"

butterflies formed in your stomach and your cheeks dusted a light pink, "who?" hu tao deadpanned, "just look at that stupid face. they're totally thinking about him." you smacked her arm and she whistled, "just saying." you rested your chin in your hand, closing your eyes with a smile, "we were texting just earlier, actually."

ayaka's eyes grew wide, "really!?" yoimiya giggled, "ohh, of course you two were. you've always been on that phone ever since he added you!" you waved your hands around defensively, "hey, it's not all the time!-"

"kunikuzushi, you little shit, are you not listening to me again?" mona snapped her fingers. scaramouche quickly looked away when you caught his gaze by surprise. his face reddened as he glared at his sister, "what." she narrowed her eyes, "do you think i'm an idiot? just go talk to them, damn it!" she said, pushing scaramouche forward.

and he ended up, right in front of the table you were sitting at with your friends. hu tao gave him a judgy glare, loudly sipping from the straw jammed into a nearly empty pumpkin spice latte. you appeared surprised, "scara!" yun jin smugly repeated, "scara?" hu tao huffed, "so you two have endearments for each other now?"

both you and scaramouche blushed out of embarrassement, yelping in unison, "no!" you cleared your throat, "no, hu tao. um, sorry about her, she can be a little... eccentric with the way she comes off to people." you vaguely explained and hu tao gawked, "ECCENTRIC?" scaramouche had a shit-eating grin on his lips, "i see."

hu tao and scaramouche, a 1v1 has begun!

hu tao crossed her arms, "have you dated anyone else before?" scaramouche replied with ease, "maybe, once or twice. but they were just using me to get in my pants." she squinted, "how do you treat your significant other?" he scoffed, "like they're royalty." ayaka, yun jin and yoimiya watched with interest as you panicked, "hu tao!-"

hu tao slyly smiled, "have you done infidelity?" scaramouche had a twinkle in his glare as he smirked, "i'm surprised, maybe even a little offended, that you think i'd stoop that low." you holding onto scaramouche's arm snapped him out of the argument.

"could we talk, elsewhere?" you asked with a nervous grin, but it was oh-so-obvious that you had to get away from your dearest, overprotective hu tao. scaramouche purely smiled at you, "of course, (n/n)." making sure hu tao heard it, he looked at her.

hu tao spit out her drink, "BETRAYAL!"

@meowlumi @beriiov @apr1cityyy @xtodorokismistressx @dollpoetwriting @bleedingwhiteroses222 @r0ttenhearts @sammy-hammy @atsukawolfcat @pooonyo @strawberryclumsy @emmaemoseila @kunikuzushiit @scaramouchesmoocher @lxry-chxn @koiir @rvoulte @scarasaver @slash3rcore @sup-zfam @cotton-eee @twistedrxses @dameofthorns @ayamvirus @thinkingotherwise @jameineliebe @thenightsflower @lumpywolf @whatamidoing89 @strawbxrrytiger @sunfloens @one-offmind @angryhope @skimm0nzz @etherisy

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fastcardotmp3 · 2 months

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Wheelingham; S4 AU; Outsider POV (Max); Presumed character death (but not real character death); 1.9k Written for @strangerthingsfemslash week day 3: secret relationship read day 1: different first meeting read day 2: women over thirty

Max goes to Nancy first.

The lights flicker and the cops roll in and one of them is whispering about— The Cunningham girl? She’s probably dead by now.

So. Max goes to Nancy, partially because at first she thinks she’ll knock out two Wheelers with one stone before she remembers Mike is already on a plane to California, but also because it’s Nancy.

Because for the entirety of this past school year, Nancy has managed to bulldoze her way over all of Max’s carefully constructed walls and forced her to keep one of them in her life, at the very least.

She’s a force of nature, Nancy Wheeler, and the first time she showed up at Max’s trailer with dinner on a night her mom was working a double, that had been apparent, but not everything had been.

Not the reason Nancy was determined to insert herself in Max’s life; not the underlying despair that Max has learned chases that girl from one fight to the next.

Max goes to Nancy because Nancy knows what to do when the world ends, in more ways than one. Max goes to Nancy, because she doesn’t realize that saying—

“I overheard the cops talking, they think she might be dead.”

—she’ll be knocking loose the mask of resolve that Nancy puts on with her hair clips each morning, knocking it straight to the floor and stomping on it hard.

“They think…” She's small, but normally she takes up mountains of space in Max’s life. She’s got this presence to her which Max can barely admit to herself is grounding, but it is. She actually seems small in this moment though. Wound up and tiny. “And you’re sure— did they say Chrissy? Did they say Cunningham? I don’t… I just—”

“That’s what they said,” Max feels like she’s watching something she’s not supposed to, like when she still lived in California and her mom still cared about the ratings on the movies Max rented from the Blockbuster. “And usually I wouldn’t put too much stock in what the Hawkins PD has to say, but… The lights were… I know what lights like that mean.”

Nancy clenches down on her jaw and something in her eyes shifts and Max has spent a lot of time with this girl in the past six months.

Long enough to recognize that there’s a lot Nancy doesn’t talk about, even when she’s actively trying to be vulnerable to make Max feel better; long enough, too, to know that just because Nancy is a force of nature doesn’t mean she’s not also still barely eighteen years old.

Nancy swallows thickly and her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her skirt until it's wrinkled and Max wants to ask, but before she gets the chance Nancy is steeling herself and sending Max to the car and telling her to radio Dustin to meet them at the Family Video.

Before Max has a chance to really get a gauge on what’s going on with Nancy at all (because something is going on) she’s being forced to walk through exactly what and who she saw last night four times over on the fifteen minute drive.

More than anything, Nancy’s haste reminds Max that they’re in it again. It reminds her that none of it was ever over and she was right, in a lot of ways if not all of them, to expect another shoe to drop.

The problem is that it’s a lot easier to focus on something going on with Nancy than it is to think about the nightmares that have been haunting her since long before she watched Billy die. He’s starred in her nightmares before, but this is different, this is new, this is so entirely old by now.

No, it’s easier to let the rest of them try to make sense of what’s going on while she watches the looks on Steve and Robin’s faces when they hear the name Chrissy Cunningham.

They look at Nancy on instinct, without a beat of hesitation. They look at Nancy.

“Chrissy…? Shit, Nance—”

“Don’t,” she snaps, pushing past Steve’s big and welling eyes that clearly know more than Max does to begin typing away at the computer behind the desk.

He doesn’t let her run from him though, visibly putting himself between Nancy and the rest of them as he speaks just under his breath enough that Max can’t hear him over Dustin’s own plan-making, but can see the way Nancy’s shoulders tense up and her fingers falter across the keys.

If Max were, say, Dustin, it would look like the kind of sign that the two of them were starting something up again, but Max has broken up and gotten back together with Lucas enough times to recognize that this isn’t that.

This is its own thing. This is Nancy on the verge of something else Max has been keenly aware of for too much of her young life: a nervous breakdown.

Nancy Wheeler is terrified, but not in the same way the rest of them are, not because the world might be ending again. Hers is a different sort of terror, only Max can’t place it. She might even be wrong about the whole thing, looking too hard for a distraction from the pulsing ache at the center of her skull, but there’s something about the slices of conversation she catches that tells her otherwise.

“... might not actually be…”

“... no way for you to know that, Steve…”

“... not the same as…”

“...don’t have time to… need to focus on this…”

But again, too much is happening with too quick a turnaround for Max to really dig in and find the answers to her queries.

“Eddie wouldn’t hurt someone,” Dustin is saying with the sort of forceful defensiveness of someone who is being put on trial himself rather than defending a friend. “He wouldn’t. Something else killed Chrissy—”

Max’s eyes train in on the shift in Nancy’s posture, the thick swallow she takes as she turns halfway away from all of them like protecting her soft bits from coming blows.

“ – or probably something,” Dustin insists. “Which means Eddie is in danger too if he was there.”

“Why would Chrissy have even been at Eddie’s trailer?” Robin asks, the question broad enough to seem as though it’s angled at all of them, but Max can see the way she looks at Nancy, the direction she means for it to land.

Nancy seems to feel it too.

“They’re friends,” she says without meeting anyone’s gaze, arms crossed and eyes downturned. “Ever since she broke up with Jason, it’s been— hard. At school. And Eddie’s just— he’s been a friend, so…”

“So maybe she’s with him,” Robin says, but it’s less like a suggestion of theory and more like the kind of thing meant to ease nerves, softer around the edges, almost imploring in nature.

Nancy’s grip around her own biceps is tight enough to make her skin go white, and by the time they have an address for Reefer Rick, any proximity that Max gets to her feels like the air is vibrating at a different, but not unfamiliar, frequency.

When Max stepped out of Starcourt on that night in July, the air had tasted like ash. When she had sat unblinking and trembling in the back of a parked ambulance, she hadn’t been able to feel Lucas’s hand in her own past the shake of the world around her.

“She’s your friend?” Max asks, a murmur of a question just for Nancy after having forced her way into the front seat of the station wagon for their trek across town, letting the other three keep themselves occupied in the back.

Nancy’s lips purse and what Max can only imagine is an involuntary hum chokes its way out of her throat.

“I was— I shouldn’t have been so blunt about it,” Max says. “About what I overheard the police saying. I should have said it differently, because we don’t even know if she’s really—”

“She is,” Nancy says stiffly, grip tight on the steering wheel as they turn down a path that leads to the lake. “That’s how these things work. She is.”

Max doesn’t have an argument for that.

In her experience it’s the truth, the only truth, that the worst case is the actual case.

It keeps her quiet in the passenger seat until they’re parking, all the way up to Rick’s front door, through Dustin’s incessant knocking, until she notices Nancy wandering towards the boathouse and hurries to follow behind her.

The door creaks when they open it, windows mucked up with algae and the general wear of time to the point where even the fading light of day doesn’t permeate the space. The floorboards groan under their feet and the lap of water against the bottom of the boat at the center of the room makes the whole thing eerie.

Eerie and nerve-wracking and bad, the whole thing has their collective adrenaline pumping right up until a number of things are happening at the same time.

The toss of a tarp, the guttural scream of a man, the pushing and shoving and trapping of Steve up against the wall as the rest of them merely try to keep up and act on their feet and prepare for an attack and—

“Nance?”

It’s quiet, but it cuts through the chaos.

It’s quiet, but it seems as though it has physical weight in its effect on Nancy.

“You’re—?” the sharp choking-off of a question, the near-buckling of knees, something starts to click into place as Nancy seems to move a woman-possessed across the boathouse until she’s got her hands hovering over Chrissy Cunningham’s shoulders, drifting down her arms, searching, searching, searching for— “are you hurt? You’re hurt? You’re— oh my god, are you real?”

Chrissy’s got what appears to be Eddie’s leather jacket tied up around one of her arms like a sling, the stain of dried blood smudged on her cheekbone just under her eyes, but she smiles as she places her available hand on Nancy’s cheek.

Wet and nervous, but a smile all the same.

And things are clicking into place, because Max has broken up with and gotten back together with Lucas quite a few times.

“Um, some stuff is— is happening and I don’t know how to explain—” Chrissy shakes her head, lifting her gaze to meet Eddie’s as he drops his attack stance from Steve, “but we’re okay. And you’re here now, so, so that’s—”

“They said you were dead,” Nancy blurts, chin wobbling and voice thick and cracking. “They said— I thought you were dead, I thought—”

It’s bold, when Chrissy cuts her off with a firm kiss to the mouth, right there in front of all of them in the middle of the dark.

It’s bold, but Max sees the fondness on the older kids’ faces, the clarity that they’ve known the whole time.

It’s bold, but pretty fucking cool, Max thinks. Proof, maybe, that it doesn’t always have to go the other way, that maybe sometimes their people can get through to the other side, scared and hurt but okay. Not lost. Not entirely. Close enough to be found.

“Wha– Wait, what the–?” Dustin balks, confusion radiating off of him as bright as the sun beside Max, almost blinding in its comical nature. “Did you know about this?” he looks to her, face all twisted up in not knowing something more than actually having a problem with it.

Max looks at him, looks at the gentle way Chrissy swipes away Nancy’s tears as they press their foreheads close and relish in the finding.

And then she looks back at Dustin and shrugs. “It was kind of obvious, dumbass.”

#dot fic #wheelingham #nancy wheeler #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #femslash week #stranger things femslash #once upon a time i wrote a ficlet about nancy and chrissy meeting during s3 and this is a psuedo sequel to that In My Heart

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galaxygolfergirl · 7 months

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I'm kind of worried about you guys

Recently I've been revisiting the Frozen franchise after taking somewhat of a sabbatical from it for the longest time, rewatching the movies and shorts, and I am currently going through the Frozen 2 documentary. This was mainly for nostalgia, but I wanted to try and understand the franchise from a more critical, technical perspective, and I've come to some insights that I think are worth sharing.

I already voiced my opinions on the frozen fandom in another post, especially in regards to helsa, but since I've been revisiting the old stomping grounds and reading recent posts, it's been concerning to me the level of emotional distress people were having over the treatment of Hans's character.

Now, from what I've gathered from the "text" itself (the movies and shorts, and the frozen heart novel), and from the documentary, I don't really get the sense that the writers and producers at Walt Disney animation have this vendetta against a single character. I don't think it's that deep. Despite the fact that our corner of the fandom believes that the character of Hans has potential, I can assume that the creative team doesn't really consider him to be anything more than a typical Disney villain.

Now I can't really say anything about the potential "hints" at his future redemption or a possible relationship with Elsa, but from what I understand what goes into the creative process during production, I don't think there is a guiding decree that declares that all Disney merchandising material have these hints. Most likely it is an accumulation of random chance and personal decisions down the production pipeline that have nothing to do with orders from the chain of command.

As much as it was exciting to me to read into stuff like this when I was younger, like the Hans and Elsa dolls getting paired together, for example, I think the logic still stands that currently his character is meant to be perceived negatively. And I don't think that's meant as a personal slight against our side of the fandom, that's just what the text says and what the general audience currently accepts.

I don't know if the creative team or Jennifer Lee has seen all of our posts or discussions, I don't know how they personally feel, but as a writer and an artist I feel that the vocal angry callout posts, fandom infighting, and actual petitions to get people fired over how a story should be written, ones that they might have seen, are especially harmful to the creative process. It's not up to fans how a story should be written, and as much as fans may not agree with certain creative decisions, it is ultimately up to the creators themselves whether they take that input or not.

Like I've said, PLEASE DON'T TAKE THIS STUFF SO SERIOUSLY! It's two PG animated musicals that are marketed to little girls! There's a frozen-themed waffle maker! Canon doesn't mean shit! You can play with these ideas and adapt them through other means! Just because it doesn't have the Disney logo slapped on it or has professional CGI animation doesn't mean that your fan fiction or fan art is any less valid or cheapened. And listen, I understand having these feelings; I was disappointed when Hans wasn't in Frozen 2, I was disappointed about how the movie ended, or that Helsa probably wasn't going to become a thing, but eventually I grew to understand that that wasn't up to me. We are not entitled to make the creators do what we want.

We have to have a sense of emotional maturity and media literacy here, not just for this little microcosm of fandom, but for investing in all media in general. There is so much more that goes into the creative production pipeline. It takes a team full of people, hundreds, thousands, that make stories like this work. Scouring the internet for story crumbs and hints and theories is only going to frustrate you more and taking that frustration out on the creative team online isn't going to make your case or help anything. If anything, you're only coming across as kind of intimidating and aggressive, and creators don't really react well to that.

Now listen: I am not trying to police how anyone reacts to a piece of media, I'm not trying to come across as somebody on any sort of moral high ground. I only encourage those who have been disappointed and frustrated to put things into a larger perspective. This is a Disney animated film series marketed at little girls. If they want to bring his character back, that would be great! If they don't, who needs 'em? Please just enjoy what you are able to do with these characters and this story. You certainly don't need validation from the house of mouse.

#frozen #frozen 2 #helsa #prince hans #queen elsa #iceburns #disney #fandom #fandom culture #media literacy

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minnies-mochi · 10 months

Text

I’m So Sorry, Not

Vinsmoke Family x Platonic! Sibling! Reader

Warnings: Colorful Language ofc, Bullying, Mentions of Suicide, Toxicity if i can write the characters well, abandonment, drugs, murder, neglect, death, torture

PAINFULLY LONG AND POORLY WRITTEN.

Well, you’re technically a Vinsmoke. You don’t have the same mom as the rest of your siblings.

but you all have the same dad.

you turned out to be another failure.

your father- Judge, has had enough and kicked you out of the empire?

he left you on the worst island possible

You were so young too. almost turning 7 when your siblings were 13-15 years of age.

you felt alone and abandoned

you had no hope.

you couldn’t even leave the island if you wanted to.

an old woman took you in.

you tried your hardest to find ways to kill yourself.

you even took hand-full of drugs in hopes of overdosing.

yet, you didn’t have the guts to kill yourself. you felt as though, if you kill yourself. you’d be proving your “family” right.

one day, a ship awfully familiar to the one you were kicked off of was sailing closer to the island you resided on.

once it arrived, the island you’ve come to know for 10 years, was burning down slowly.

you ran towards the old woman’s house, you had called grandma after three years of staying on this island.

only to witness her being brutally slashed in the chest by someone who you used to call brother.

Niji smirked when his eyes landed on you,

“y/n! how have you been? we thought you would’ve been dead by now.”

you stayed silent as he approached you, breath hitched.

“hey, say something!”

he was in front of you now…

you watched him warily, slowly backing away.

“Niji, stop bullying the weak. you know she’s a fucking failure like Sanji”

Shit!

Yonji was here now.

Niji’s smirked widened and gripped your hair tightly by the scalp,

“listen here you damn germ, you’ll be coming with us wether you like it or not”

Niji started to pull you by the hair, not stopping despite your protests.

“Let me go!”

you tried clawing on his arm, but you knew it doesn’t affect him at all

you screamed in pain when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach…

‘did this sonic looking bitch just kick me!?’

once on the ship, you were instantly in front of that man.

we know who it is fellas💪🏽

you stared into his emotionless eyes but you already know what he was feeling,

disgust.

“so we meet yet again. we should have left you on an island filled with beasts, that would’ve killed you much faster”

“Shut up! i fucking hate you Vinsmoke Judge”

You try to pull away from hands that where restricting your arms. AKA Yonji.

You see two more, no, three more people behind Judge, from your observation.

Ichiji, Reiju, and someone else.

‘who is that?’

Judge followed your gaze.

“that is your other brother, Sanji”

you can hear the gruffness in his voice, as if he didn’t want to talk to you and say Sanji’s name.

“wait a minute… “brother”? im not a part of this family!”

you shouted, filled with rage and despair.

as much as you feel hurt, but its the truth.

Vinsmoke Judge had disowned you from the family.

“that is true, but we need you to save face. behave yourself failure #2”

Ichiji chimed in.

“save face?”

Yonji let go of your arms and suddenly you were pulled towards the ground, hurting your face in the process.

Judge had stomped on your back.

“don’t screw anything up or we’ll kill you”

you had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

what can you do?

you cant beat up emotionless, sadistic robots and walk away scotch free.

you pursed your lips, trying to find a way to escape.

you snapped out of your thinking process when something clamped down around your wrists.

“you cant be 6 feet away from any of us or the castle, except for sanji, unless you want to lose your hands.”

You cant be serious right now.

your escape plan was now rendered useless.

“let’s head over to Whole Cake Island”

You were basically thrown into your room by Niji and Yonji, with them smirking down at you.

“dicks” you murmured.

a few days had passed, you never left your room, since you had a bathroom attached to it and you requested to one of the servants to deliver food to your room.

there was a knock at your door, you looked at the clock.

it was not lunch time yet.

you opened it and immediately scowled

it was sanji, you did not want to get hurt again.

“wait, wait”

Sanji held up his hands in defense.

you noticed the same golden colored device around Sanji’s wrists.

“can i come in?”

you moved to the side, silently observing Sanji as he walked in.

“you’ve grown, i honestly thought you were still on the ship…rotting and being abused. but, im glad. im glad your still alive”

Sanji tears up and pulls you close to him.

He made a vow,

“I promise you, once i get married. i’ll give you anything that you didnt get to experience as a kid!”

You wanted to tell him that it was okay and that he didnt need to.

you held in your tears, voice shaky as you actually did tell him that it was okay.

that led him to hold you tighter.

after that day, Sanji actually tried his best to be there with you on Whole Cake Island.

The day before Sanji’s wedding, while riding the carriage, Sanji’s friends tried to get him to come back.

Straw hat Luffy….

The events that happened next, shocked me.

Sanji beat up him own captain.

You did not care about what happened to you, you wanted the best for your only brother.

during the wedding, you were panicking hard.

Big Mom planned to annihilate the Vinsmoke family in order to gain their scientific creations.

being stuck in melted candy did not help your despair.

suddenly, Big Mom let out a big wail, hurting your ears in the process.

Sanji broke everyone free from the confines of melted candy.

you watched as Germa 66 did their transformation half way and started running towards Bege’s castle.

You felt self conscious.

you weren’t anything special, you did not have any abilities, you did not know how to fight, all you do know how to do is run.

but you weren’t fast enough.

you felt someone loop their arms around your waist, zooming towards Perospero, and throwing a punch at him.

“Kneel before Germa’s scientific might!”

It was Ichiji.

As everyone had gotten into the castle, Sanji disowned Judge and the rest of Germa.

Unknowingly, you stood in front of a mirror, with your back towards it.

You felt you mouth being covered tightly and was dragged into the mirror, no one batting an eye.

You were then tied up by your perpetrator.

You took a glance at a mirrors reflection and it was Charlotte Amande.

‘im going to die!’

That wasn’t the case, she had brought you into a confined room, no windows.

‘ah….this is a torture chamber’

after 3 hours of being tortured, i managed to escape.

you came to the realization that you’re on Cacao Island.

injured and all you could do was lean in the wall.

“huff….huff….” you panted, just a few more steps before you reached the plaza. The pain became unbearable.

It was already dark out.

I assumed there was battle going on, since Germa 66 was fighting off the Big Mom Pirates. “Go back to your ships, Germa 66! Mission Accomplished!” Ichiji yelled out, his eyes spotting me leaning against the wall. He grabbed the back of my shirt and we flew back to the main ship.

Once we had arrived, Ichiji placed me down on the ground gently. ‘well thats a surprise. I’m guessing Sanji left with his crew, im glad that he made it out’. My head felt light, i could barely hold myself up. “Germa 66! We’ll withdraw!” Judge said as he turned around and halted.

Big Mom was coming. Germa 66 was on guard for battle, even though they took a bunch of damage in the past few hours.

After trying to fend off the Big Mom Pirates. Germa was defeated. 2 super humans and 1 regular human were captured by the enemy.

I tried to pull from one of my restraints, but i was already physically drained from the torture i had endured. i am going through yet another torture. this time it was with Charlotte Daifuku.

Daifuku held me still as Oven used his devil fruit to sear the skin on my left forearm. I screamed in pain, not knowing Niji and Yonji can hear me in a room above them. Then, Mon-d’or made a gash in my leg. He then poured boiling water onto it “oops! Im sorry, not!”, he smirked. I bit my bottom lip hard, trying not to make a sound. This continued for who knows how long…

It felt like a while when they left. I felt so lifeless. the door opened and i was prepared to endure more torture. But it turns out it was Germa and….. Caesar?? Reiju used her poison to melt away the chains holding my body down. I couldn’t move. i could barely move…Ichiji nodded at Caesar and Caesar slung me over his shoulder, mindful of my wounds.

We made it back to the main ship of Germa. my body started to become more and more numb by the second. Ichiji took me into his arms and steadily walked towards the infirmary. “You okay? You’re not going to die are you?” He said, as he slowly started to pick up his pace after only getting a nod from me.

We’ve reached the infirmary. But the nurse there told Ichiji that I needed surgery to stitch up any open wounds and that i probably wouldnt make it. Niji tried arguing with the nurse, “what do you mean that she doesnt have enough blood? don’t we have blood packs here? why do you just give it to her?”. of course, the nurse tried to reason with Niji but she stopped not wanting to piss him off.

Yonji, clenched the blanket on top of him into his fist. ‘she cant die. we owe sanji for saving our lives.’ he thought. “im sorry, but she already looks like shes about to pass on”, the Vinsmoke brothers turned their heads towards their little sister. little sister?

sister?

when had they considered her a little sister? she did not share the same blood as their mother, so why should they consider her as their sister? just because she shares blood with their father doesn’t mean- “how long will she live?” and feminine voice chided in behind Ichiji.

Reiju and their father came in the room.

The nurse fumbled with her watch, not wasting anytime before the brothers become ruthless. “a-about an hour, ma’am!”, the nurse wanted to slap herself for being too nervous. Ichiji laid you onto an empty infirmary bed. Your breath hitched in pain.

Judge strutted towards your bed and stared down at you, “You did well, for a failure”. You deadpanned at him, even though you were dying. Yonji cursed under his breath, the Vinsmoke family turning to him. “why did it have to turn out like this?”.

Although he wouldn’t admit this, Yonji had cared for you. Ichiji and Niji narrowed their eyes at him. Ichiji started, “don’t tell me your getting all mushy already”, “don’t tell me you did not care for her all along, notice how you saved her the most?” Yonji retorted. Niji snorted “care for her? shes nothing but a weakling in the Vinsmoke bloodline”. The brothers were going back in forth, Judge chiming in here and there.

Reiju sneakily brought her hand to hold yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She smiled down to you, letting you know she loves you in her own way. but her eyes widened a little.

you were cold. cold to the touch.

she noticed that your eyes were lifeless. she knew. she knew, you had already passed on. With a wobbly smile, she closed your eyes and looked at the time. Trying to hold in her tears, “time of death is 4:37 p.m.”. As soon as she said that. The brothers felt their cold hearts shatter, yet they could not shed a single tear.

They had lost a sister. Their little sister at that. Sanji didn’t get to hear the bad news at all.

“In the back of my mind, you died. and I didn't even cry, no, not a single tear. and I'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive….” - d4vid, Romantic Homicide.

#one piece x y/n #one piece angst #vinsmoke judge #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke reiju #one piece luffy #charlotte linlin #big mom #one peice #vinsmoke brothers

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valeskawhore · 1 year

Text

“Y/n Dracula?”

Series/tv: series:3.5/?

Characters and paring(s): Wednesdays Addams x FEM!VAMP! reader! (Girlxgirl)

Word(s): 1.0k!!

Authors note: “HELLO AND SORRY FOR THE WAIT! THIS IS A HALF CHAPTER, THE OTHER HALF IS COMING OUT SOON! ENJOY!”

*~*~*~*~*

Exiting the dormitory, I met up with Abigail around the quad. She was assisting some of the other girls from Aurora hall in carrying a variety of plants into the back of a wagon wheel for our dorm mother, Marylin. Abigail placed one of the few last flowers in the wagon before sprinting over to me. It was a beautiful bright blue flower, with red thorns and vines twisting around the bud of the flower head.

She smiled very brightly before taking notice that I already had on my uniform with my schedule in hand.

Abigail wiped her hands. Her smile dropped, “You went without me..?” She mumbled.

I felt my heart sink.

Why did she look so much like a puppy after getting neglected? Big round hazel-nut eyes peered up at me softly, bottom lip untucked from her top, and her cheeks were so puffed out– I thought she was turning into ‘Violet Beauregarde’ without the weird skin discoloration from chewing untested gum.

I did my best to smile, “Marylin dropped them off shortly after you left. I meant to tell you but you had already been waiting for me, I’m sorry.”

Her face lightened up at my excuse, “Oh.. well that’s ok! Here! Come with me! I’ll show you around the quad.” Without another word, Abigail grabbed my arm and tugged me in the direction she was heading– only I didn’t budge a inch.

Like a boulder, I was intact and remained in my exact position from before. My eyes started to water from the deathly stench that began to cloud my nose. I gasped, throwing my hand over my mouth and nose in an attempt to stop the urge that began to boil violently in the back of my throat. I tripped over myself, feeling too weak to stand any longer.

It burned.

Abigail’s eyes widened as she laughed nervously, “Hey– hey-? Are you alright?” she asked. I couldn’t respond to her. The burning in the back of my throat had gotten so intense— I could not breathe.

I fell to the ground and Abigail began to scream for help as my vision clouded. Soon before I lost consciousness completely– I heard various voices and people’s stomping began to crowd me. Some gasped and some screamed for help while others ran for it. I did my best to stay conscious though, my muscles started to spasm vigorously.

‘Was I dying?’ I asked myself, ‘I had never been in so much pain before.’

Abigail started to cradle me in her arms. I clenched onto her sleeve, heaving.

Everything went black.

*~*~*~*

I awoke to a dim light, and the feeling of weariness all around me. Something didn’t feel right. I cracked open my eyes and memories from the incident began to flood my mind like deja-vu.

I did my best to sit up, my rib cage felt as though it was being stabbed by a thousand knifes,

And that wasn’t even the half of it—My lungs burned as if they were sitting on the eternal flames of hell themselves too.

I was in, what I assumed, was the nurses office. It was so bright, it was almost depressing.

Thankfully, the room was empty. I was in no mood for visitors right now. After what had happened, I started to understand why my father was so ashamed of me. I was weak.. And this was ridiculous.

I had never once, in my entire life, had been tired enough to be in a professional setting for the injured. My body always prevented me, Only… this time it didn't?

I hissed in pain trying to turn my body off the cot.

My fangs retracted from the roof on my mouth in response. “Damnit..” My eyes began to water. “This is so fucking stupid..”

I had gotten my left leg off the cot and was working toward my right when I heard footsteps in the hallway bouncing off the 100+ year old floors.

Before I had made anymore progress in trying to escape this stupid room, someone knocked twice outside the room and without waiting for a response, they entered anyways.

In view came a young man, with short, professional, combed over hair which slicked back tightly behind his ears. His worried eyes widened and was almost hidden behind his rounded framed glasses which sat atop his button nose. The stranger had a mole under his left eye, which crinkled up ever so slightly when a look of relief spread over his face.

He was wearing a school uniform, without his suit jacket overtop. His sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was very well maintained. He saw my look of confusion and smiled, “You're awake.”

I grumbled at the stranger, “Unfortunately.”

Without thinking twice, I hopped up from the bed, startling him. My body was healed enough, apparently to do so.

“O-oh! No! You can’t get up just yet!” he demanded, rushing over to me.

“Thanks,” I smiled, “But I'm fine. Though, If you wanna be somebody else’s knight in shining armor– pop your head into ‘Ophelia Hall’-- I heard shit always happens around there.”

I grabbed my schedule, pushing past him.

He grabbed my arm, I halted. “I’m Rowan,” he stuttered out. “I carried you here. The nurses wanted me to come check in on you… y/n? Right? As in.. The actual daughter of Dracula??”

Oh godddd he's a groupie..

I flipped around, “Rumors spread quickly around here, huh?”

“Indeed.. But not only that but I'm a huge fan of your fathers work! I’ve read all about him!” Rowan chuckled nervously. “My dad was really big on tracking vampires and learning all about them, ways to kill them, what their weaknesses are, ways to lore them–”

I stood there and stared at this kid with wide eyes. What the fuck is he talking about?

“Oh yeah?” I asked, putting his rambling to a stop.

He nodded sheepishly.

“Keep him then, you can have him.”

I ripped my arm out of his grip for the final time and made my way to the door. “Wait!” he called out. “What about your pain medication?”

“Shove it up your ass.” I slammed the door.

#funny story #wednesday adams #girl gothic #girl love #girls icons #wednesday #the addams family #thing addams #merlina addams #addams fanart #ily <3 #x reader #fanart #multifandom fanfiction

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sneezydarliing · 10 months

Note

Sensitive Jouno. Allergic Jouno. Just Jouno having the worst time in a place he’d rather not be in but what can he do? NOTHING. L bozo skill issue (he’s very cute)

THANK YOU for the ask and actually pushing me to post this ,,,, very nervous about it

White Hibiscus

words- 1,093

fandom- BSD

characters- Jouno, Tecchou

The day had begun normally enough. Tecchou sat in the back of a vehicle, idly snacking on an egg, Jouno to his right. The man was sitting as far away from him as he could, brows furrowed and lip pushed out in a way that could nearly be described as pouting, twitching with every crunch! as Tecchou took another bite. Tecchou used this as his entertainment until they arrived at their destination, the end of an old dirt road that transformed into a wide field. Both Hunting Dogs exited the vehicle, and Tecchou gave the driver a brisk nod of thanks as they began to drive off.

Jouno had already begun to stalk off, clearly having no intentions of waiting, but Tecchou caught up with ease. He huffed at this, turning to Tecchou with an indignant look. "Why was i even paired up somebody like you? You breathe so loud, it’s messing me up.” Tecchou just shrugged. He wasn’t close to the other, but was well aware of his highly enhanced senses, and subsequent awareness at anythidng that seemed to bother them- which tecchou was a common victim of.

Jouno just grumbled, walking faster. Tecchou looked down at the flowers they were trampling as they walked, noticing the pollen coating both of their boots, reflecting off of the dark surfaces. He had been smart enough to take allergy medicine in the morning. Jouno, however, stopped suddenly, standing straight. Tecchou froze too, waiting for whatever Jouno must have sensed to appear. But nothing did. A beat passed. Tecchou shifted forward to get a closer look at his partner, and the issue became obvious.

Jouno’s nose was scruched up, and Tecchou watched as he gave a quick gasp- then another- and then his hands flew to his face as he pitched forward. "hi'chiew!! hh.. hiD'sHhu..hH'CHhih!" he shook his head gentle and gave a wet sniffle- before furrowing his brows and sniffling again. Finally, he lowered his hands, revealing a pink- tinted nose that wasn't far from matching the slightly faded red in his hair.

Tecchou raised an eyebrow. Somehow, he'd never seen the other sneeze, or atleast not paid enough attention to realize it. Jouno sniffed again. "Stop staring at me. Have you never seen somebody sneeze?" "Not like that." He replied, kicking a stray stick out of his way. To that, Jouno gave a quiet grumble he didn’t bother to decipher. They continued to trudge through the field, stopping occasionally while Jouno let out more fittish sneezes.

Tecchou chose to ignore this, examining the various flowers as he walked, and stopping as a small group caught his eye. He picked one up, gently, looking closer at the white and pink petals. It looked almost created in Jouno’s image, who was standing with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently for the other to finish. Tecchou could not find himself caring. He sat down, and began to munch on one of the snacks he kept in his pocket.

The other, clearly did not appreciate this. He stomped over, giving the nature around them absolutely no thought, and pushed Tecchou roughly by the shoulders. He barely budged. Did not bother to say anything. He made no effort to listen to Jouno's complaints until they devolved into an itchy sounding cough, and looked up to find the other still standing over him, eyes streaming.

None of this seemed to stop him from bothering tecchou, apparently, because he continued to kick and shove at him. Tecchou quickly had enough, and quickly threw Jouno down to the ground beside him, giving a quiet huff of laughter at his indignant squak in response to the jostling.

"I can't believe you! We need to get moving, I'm not going to stay here overnight with you." Tecchou quickly tuned him out, instead looking at the bits of yellow pollen that had settled into Jouno's hair.

The other seemed to notice it too, if the way his features scrunched up said anything. He watched in amusement as he lifted a gloved hand, equally covered, and scrubbed at his irritated nose, clicks of congestion audible as he worked it back and forth. This must have only worsened whatever tickle he had, because his breath caught in a quick gasp.

“hhIH-shihht’cHhiew- i’sHHhiew! hIh.. snF!” Tecchou raised an eyebrow. "Is there something bothering you?" Jouno snapped his head to face him, angry expression destroyed by the way his nose continued to twitch, clearly not done with him.

"This- hH'knGt'ue! This is all.. alhh'cHhiew- hiD'TCHiew! your fault.. hihh.. hH-tSCH'ue!" Jouno stuttered through the sentence, nose twitching in between each release. Tecchou just hummed as his chest rose again, and let out yet another pitchy sneeze.

Jounos nose seemed far from satisfied, red-rimmed and wet and trembling with need, but even as he roughly pawed at it with a wrist, a rare sliver of pale skin exposed, nothing seemed to come out of his hitching breaths.

"Are you okay? We can turn back." Tecchou did not consider himself a cruel man, but the rare opportunity to turn Jouno’s teasing back on himself couldn't be resisted, even by himself.

"I- holdonn-t’SCh’ieww! need you to… to get your sorry ass up so we can keep moving." With that, he suddenly sits up, dislodging a stray flower petal that had been resting in his hair. Tetchou watched it float down gracefully, before making its home perched gently atop the gentle slope of jounos sensitive nose. The effect of the touch was almost instant, jouno struggling to even get his hands up to his face in time as he gasped.

"t’CHhiew- aH’TSChi- SCHhiew! hehh.. hIH-tCHue! f-fuck.. t’SChih- t’SCHh- hiDt’SHiew!" Tears flood freely from Jouno’s red-rimmed eyes, face flushed as he panted. He gave tecchou an empty glare, looking angry and possibly embarrassed- though it may have judt been the irritated redness in his face.

"hhIh- how are you not being affected by any of this this?!" He demanded, as if somehow accusing Jouno of placing the pollen in the field himself.

"Antihistamine. I took one before I got here." Tecchou replied, blank-faced. It was common knowledge for the Hunting Dogs that the modifications to their bodies heightened their immune system, in turn causing all of them to have allergies.

Jouno just huffed, caught in yet another tickle, evident by the quick "hiDt'sHhih!" Muffled into a wrist. It was tired, almost weak, but Tecchou wouldn't dare to say that. He simply stood, turned toward the slowly approaching clearing in the distance, and began to walk again, another sneeze the only confirmation Jouno was following.

#sneeze kink #sneeze fic #snz #sneeze stuff #sneeze #posting my rare fic #my cat is getting mad at me rn because i wont let her sit on my lap its tough times out here #anywasy please enjoy this im actually kinda proud of it #credits all go to waterfall whom i dont want to tag and bother for the idea that Jouno tries to talk through his sneezes

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tsutkomi · 7 months

Text

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦: 𝘐𝘵 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯

Hello! This is a x reader/OC with the sorcerer Shang Tsung taking place after MK1. This story contains explicit content, words, brief mentions of suic!de/r@pe and gore. This story is recommended of 18+ but we all should know that since this is the legendary Mortal Kombat.

I do not own any of Mortal Kombat content, just this story and the made original characters inside of it.

Warning: Child/Abu$e, Violence, Animal/Abu$e! Death.

"The tiger that has once tasted blood is never sated with the taste of it."

The dry sands subtly fill the air as chats and laughter sound. Banners of Sun Do surround a half decent area. Merchants sounding their product to the people walking by. Goods, teas, potions, meat, swimming in their hand as their last hope to make a fortune to be freed from this wasteland of Outworld backwaters. Starved families lay on the blazing sand, holding empty jars for walking by citizens. Their hands were swatted away. Their last hope was shattered.

Criminals hiding beneath the shadows watching for guards of Sun Do so they won't be shackled as they thief and steal their way out Outworld.

A small boy walks with a dirtied dog as he feeds him carrots. His small fingers fiddle with a small pendant around his neck. Attention on the jewelry, he suddenly trips over a foot. Stumbling upward, the small boy bows muttering a apology before the foot that tripped him moves and kicks him down.

The young lad coughs in pain holding his chest and he coughs away dust. The dog barks and two other men grabs and holds it by the gruff. The boy hurriedly shoved the pendant in his shirt before hesitantly looking up at the brutal stranger.

"Ya got a habit of walking around here with that mutt. Giving me staring looks. Now ya wanna kick my feet?" says a man with obvious scars on his face, and a covered eye. He grips the boy before snatching a grey pouch of koins from the boys satchel .

" Jaka, I didn't know it was you! I'm sorry! I wasn't staring—"

The poor speech was interrupted by another kick to his arm. The man smiles in victory as his other foot places over the child's head. "Then ya lie to me huh? Maybe in another time, ya outta think about that when ya arrive to the pearly gates." Suddenly the man groaned as he was pushed over by a shoulder of a old man. His foot released the boy and he stomped on the ground in anger.

"What the hell?! Ya got a problem, asshole?"

The old man in the hood bowed his head and raised his hands without a word before retreating to the opposite direction. Jaka then looked at his other mates before nodding his head towards the walking old man. The two men started following him before Jaka returns to hit the boy again this time on the shoulder with his fist. "You already know what to do. Got more on ya? " The boy looked up in shocked and puts his hands together in plead.

"Please sir...I don't have any money to spare, my mother is ill—I only have carrots to feed myself and Vatu. You have my gold..Please, for the love of Delia..have mercy!"

Jaka rolled his eyes at the boy and looked back at his mates with the dog who was then pinned on the ground with a knife towards its belly. "Well, if you ain't got anything, I guess we'll have to take your dog since ya can't care for em anymore." The child widen his eyes in fear before scrambled closer in panic. With a cry, the boy raised one hand up in halt.

"NO! PLEASE WAIT!" With tears and blood running down his face, he rambles in his pockets slowly before pulling out a jade pendant. It was ridden with the finest white gold as a hem around a beautiful green jade. It had engravings. A unfamiliar symbol engraved in the gem as it shone brightly. Jaka eyes widen and glances back at the remaining men before snatching it from the boy.

"You've been holding out on me boy! This here is worth loads of money! Such history needs to be sold."

He signals the men and they push the dog towards the child who immediately holds Vatu close. "This here will make me finally leave this wrecked place and get to the top dogs of Sun Do!" he speaks with a raspy laugh.

The boy spoke no words, just holding close what he thought had left of his life. With a final kick, the boy groaned, shutting his eyes tightly—taking in the pain. "And that's for lying to me twice. Pack it up boys, we goin huntin." With that the rugged men left the boy alone with staring eyes of guilt. His tears dried and heart broken—the villagers had done nothing but come to his aid after the fear of man had left.

Jaka and his men walked the shattered road. He smiles with pride and holds the pendant towards the dark sky. "All we need now is a ship. We will be freed at last. Pay off some of the guards with some of that gold I took from the brat. Then boom, a new beginning for the Riot." He says with a smirk and dry laugh before patting his coat. The feeling of emptiness in his pocket made him turn from the crew to his dirtied coat. His face was quickly replaced with irritation and confusion as he patted and searched away at his clothes. His henchman then watch as his head slowly rise up and turn to them with a furious look.

"That son of a bitch mugged me! Where's Harpu and Kain? That old man has my shit! Find him! I want his head now!"

With that, then men split up into groups. They searched every crevice of every alley that could possibly be the hiding place from the old man's cessation. Jaka lurked around, listening for any sign of a dying life or anything of his men. The sweat on his forehead spoke numerous thoughts of what he'd do to the thief that dared take from him. His future will not falter. He will kill anyone that stood in his way.

It was as if the Gods heard his thoughts as he squinted at a familiar face of the old man. He was lurking around the corner before retreating. Jaka growls before running full fledge to him. "Ya son of a bitch, you're mine!!" Groaning as he split to the corner, he paused in his tracks while facing a dead end.

"What...?" Looking around the alley way, the atmosphere suddenly glowed green and the once was a night sky, turned into a dark rainy one. He was surround by trees suddenly as the Outworld Marketplace was transformed into a jungle like area. Crickets sound the area and the smell of dirt and rain filled Jaka's nose. Doing a slow 360 turn, his eyes finally land to what looks like a fiery like portal to where he once was . He couldn't believe his eyes. After slowing blinking and leaning closer. No. His eyes wasn't playing tricks on him. The portal was clear, and the difference of people and lanterns, including the figure of the boy he'd ignorantly beaten to death was walking with a bunch of strangers to what seem to be a doctor.

The Outworld Marketplace.

His heart began beating fast and he ran his fingers through the tresses of his hair. "What the devil is..." A sound of a twig snapped his confusion to alert. He perked up and squinted in the dark forest, unsheathing his small dagger from his coat. He searched around the area he was suddenly in.

The island was free of another living creature. It felt abandoned and lifeless. Vacant. However, it felt like millions of eyes were watching his every step. The untamed forests had crushed skulls, cobwebs, and giant bugs that brought some company. He was intrigued when he heard more twigs snap. Edging closer as he gripped his weapon tightly. He finally had the courage to speak. "Who the hell is there huh?!" The subtle crack in his voice gave away his fear and the shaking of his body gave away his weakness.

His curiosity however...is what ultimately closed his life sentence. That during his frightening investigation did he not realize the portal behind him had shut completely.

Walking into the dark abyss of the forest, he gripped her weapon higher to chin-level. He stealthily moved about, ignoring the beating of his panicking heart. Sweat ran down his cheek, and his eyes were wide. "Come on out! I know you're here!" He was listening for more twigs or breathing. However, only his breathing and the sound of crickets were heard. Jaka tried to ignore his senses telling him to turn back now just from the fact he walked through a portal. It was too dark. Oddly enough, the forest not only reeked with rain, but with iron. He can only imagine that it could be blood. Just as he reconsidered, another sound came but much closer. He immediately dipped and squatted walking through the bushes. His eyes caught movement and bent over. Licking his lips, Jaka raises the blade high over his head ready to dive it into the unknown thing in front of him. However, he was shocked to find that it jumped and flew away. A bird. Jaka breathes out a sigh in relief and irritation.

"Filthy fucking animal.."

His eyes unconsciously followed the bird. He scoffed before looking on the ground not too far from where the bird flew to. His stomach immediately sunk at the sight of a laid out body. He blinked slowly and looked again—his eyes were not deceiving him in the darkness.

His body moved on its own to walk towards it. As he got closer, his sight roamed the ground and made out what appeared to be another body laid not too far away. Staring, Jaka had reached into his coat pocket and slowly flicked on a silver lighter. He hesitantly hovered the lighter over the body slowly from abdomen to neck.

A stab wound was on its abdomen, further up another one in the ribs. It appeared to be dried. He groaned in disgust, and slowly went up its neck.

He paused seeing the same symbol that was on his coat. He held his breath, and clutched the grass beneath him harder. He hesitated to finally light the way towards who he assumed was one of his crew...

"FUCK!"

He jumps back after meeting face to face with a dehydrated, sunken corpse of his partner. Kain. His eyes were sunken empty, he lacked any features. He was just bone with so little skin here and there. His hair was barely there, and he reeked of death.

Bile rose up in Jaka's throat which he quickly swallowed. "By the Elder Gods..what happened to you, mate?.." he murmured rising from his feet.

He moved the lighter towards the other body, and it was in the same position as his other deceased friend. It had a bandana worn that spelled out its name in Outworld scripture—Harpu. Jaka couldn't take anymore, and dropped his lighter. The lighter immediately lit up on Kain's clothes. Cursing quietly, he threw Kain's vest across some wood and it brightened the forest.

The rest of his crew were scattered all over the place. Deceased and swiped of their life.

All Jaka could do was stare in fear and back away from the horrid scene of his friends. It was as if time stopped. Only the sound of crackling fire and crickets were heard. Jaka felt as if it was a dream. How could his friends all be killed in such short amount of time? Their bodies were decayed as if they were here laying dead for decades. "I got to get the fuck out of here."

Suddenly, the crickets stopped their stridulation chirping. Jaka looked around and gripped Kains bag, wrapping it over around him and slowly turned to head for where he came from. "Ya..Fuck this--argh!"

His sentence came to halt by a hand stopping him dead in his tracks. The hand was gripping his neck tightly and rising him slowly. His toes left the ground and his hands desperately grabbed the arm of the stranger. Jaka chokes and drools from the force before his eyes glanced down at the perpetrator. He widen his eyes at the gaze at pupils that represented dark pools. His eyes were cold and calculated. The stranger rose his head to look into the eyes of Jaka. Jaka despite being choked, he could make out that the man was young, his hair was in a half ponytail, he wore a black cloak which seemed to have a hood. Jaka's eyes followed the strangers arms to the hand that was choking him. Tekko-Kagi Claws. "Y-you're.."

The stranger held him higher as he walked them closer to the fire. The look of irritation and disgust was written on his face. As if he was disgusted at the sight of the pitiful creature held by his hand.

"You're Shang Tsung!"

He squinted his eyes and gripped Jaka tighter with a smug smirk. "Of course I am. Who else would pose such a threat?" Jaka began to panic and choked out sentences as he slightly lost color.

"Please! Have mercy! I'll do a-anything you want! I won't tell anyone! N-Not a single soul! Please let me go!" Shang Tsung laughed and tilted his head slowly. It was a laugh that caused absolute terror within Jaka's body. He knew about this man. Word of Sun Do spread throughout the lands. From the beginning where he was healing Empress Mileena of Tarkat to the vile experiments beneath his laboratory. Jaka could only think of how he would be next.

"What a pitiful performance. You're worse than the child that you maltreated. I don't care for your pathetic ruse. What I want is where I can find the owner of..this."

With the hiss of the last word, Shang Tsung ripped the jade pendant off of Jaka's bruising neck with his other free hand and held it to his sight. "They all say regardless of you being a delinquent—you were educated in history. From the present time to the past, such as the Warrior Kings. This scripture on this pendant is a symbol of their existence. Where. Are. They?" He loosens his grips slightly enough to let the choking man speak.

"T-that's not a symbol of their existence!"

Shang Tsung grew agitated fast and squeezed harder quickly before releasing again. "You play me for some fool?" He spoke with a subtle growl.

"N-no! I swear! The pendant was given for protection! Only the Gods of Warrior Kings can give it to mortals!" Shang Tsung raised one eyebrows slightly before pulling Jaka closer. A symbol of protection? Gods? Why would a mere child be given the protection of a God? "Explain."

Jaka swallowed hard before shutting his eyes in thought. "T-they used to give these pendants to people of certain clans! S-Sometimes if they encountered their arch nemesis I think! They're of the richest gold and jade! The Warrior Kings were even gifted a sword for helping the Four Symbols!"

"The Four Symbols? Those are a Chinese myth." Shang spoke with boredom. He felt as if he was being played.

"N-no they are real! But, t-they all died, except one! The jade is the indication of who gave it! Look inside! There should be a tiger!" Shang Tsung slowly was snapped out of his boredom before squinting and looking into the Jade gem. He thought he was imagining things before a golden craving appeared in shape of a tiger. Glancing slowly at Jaka, he then grips the pendant sliding it into his robe. "It would seem."

"That's the symbol of the White Tiger of the West! They are the only one left..the rest were never heard from again, so everyone assumed they were dead!"

After what felt like hours of staring, Shang Tsung released the tightening grip on Jaka's throat, letting him gasp for air before dropping him harshly. He placed his hands behind his back, turning away from the desperate man clinging to life. "The White Tiger of the West...Surely..if they given these powers to the Warrior Kings then..they must have the capability to open my Well of Souls. You will tell me who they are, and where might I find them." Jaka choked out blood and wiped his mouth , rubbing the bruises on his throat softly. "Their name is Jin Jiang. On a island..no mortal can see it with the naked eye. But you have the pendant, so you should see it..It's on the West side of the world..in between Earthrealm and Outworld. Whoever stepped on it never came back though..so survival is unsure."

Shang Tsung scoffed and played with his magic before closing his hand in a fist. "Watch your tongue fool. You would have died, but I am a powerful sorcerer. With this pendant and my sorcery, I shall get what I desire. However, I can only assume that they are not weak. With a little charm and manipulation..I should get what I need from them."

Silence was between the two. Jaka had sweat roll down his cheeks, and he kept glancing at the sorcerers back. 'I could book it. Should I book it?' He scanned the area slowly before looking once again at the sorcerer's back. He slowly move to crawl away before a spike shot through the ground into his hand. "ARGHHHHHH! GRRRAHH!" Jaka screamed and whimpered as three more shot from the ground piercing through his thigh, abdomen, and hand. He cried as Shang Tsung walked slowly to his bleeding form.

"You really thought I was through with you? After you heard my entire plan and what I'm after? After you had seen my face to get a quick bounty from me? With your gossiping like a little woman?" He smugly smirk as he stood over Jaka's bleeding form. The one eyed man could barely look up at the sorcerer while wincing and crying in pain—listening to him chuckle.

"No...You're sorely mistaken."

Jaka suddenly began gasping for air as a green aura glowed brightly around him. Blood was flowing like water into green, flying into Shang Tsung's hands. His skin slowly turned grey and muscles began to rip from his very bones as he desperately tried to reach for nothingness.

"Your soul is mine."

His body then dropped and his bones broke on impact.

Shang took in a breath and smiled in pride. Placing one hand behind his back , he used the other to unclip the cloak before tossing it on the ground. He wore his usual yellow and brown attire, with the red sash. He walked away from the scene, and waved his hand before he appeared at a large old temple. The area looked similar to his laboratory. It was in progress but had the time and effort. Smugly, he walked to a open area that had a already created portal. "A being...with better power than that of Kenshi Takahashi..To open my Well of Souls."

He waved his hands again, whispering a chant as lights and machines began to work slowly. A library which was freshly cleaned was lit. "In the west...by the name Jin Jiang." He put his hands being his back as the portal then showed a small island with autumn trees, with a large temple that seemed to glowed a whitish yellow. He smirked to himself as he walked toward taking a long look at the island.

"The White Tiger of the West. Oh, how I will see you soon. Sooner than you think."

#mortal kombat #shang tsung #x oc #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x oc #war #action adventure #netherrealm studios #sorcery #mythology and folklore #chinese #chinese folklore #chinese mythology #tw death #time #liu kang #outworld #earthrealm #romance

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elfboyeros · 9 months

Text

I Miss My Wife

I know this won’t happen, but I had this idea and I thought it was a good idea! I ne ed a character to go stupid go crazy, like religiously.

“Does this feel like a wild goose chase to you, Arin,” Sora asked, upon the deck of the Bounty.

“Oh, come on, Sora, don’t you believe in love,” Arin mused.

“I believe in safety, and being in the forest alone doesn’t seem very safe. Oh, and is this Pixal anyway,” Sora asked.

Arin’s eyes grew two sizes, excited to expel about his knowledge of the ninja, “Pixal is samurai X. When Nya became the water ninja, Pixal took over the role almost a year later. Way way back when Pixal was the assistant to a way cool inventor named Cyrus Brog… I hope he’s okay.”

“Okay, so another member of the team got it,” Sora sighed, still not finally understanding why so important to have Lloyd and Nya come with Zane to search for this “mystery woman” in the dense forest.

There was in a ramble, making the two of them look to were Zane, Nya, and Lloyd and entered the forest, seeing what could only be described as an ice mountain in the middle of the tree line, “they’re in trouble,” Arin gasped, jumping to the ground, and running into the sea of tree to which Sora and Ryu soon followed.

They were soon upon a small clearing within the trees seeing one of the men that said they knew where Pixal was/had been spotted incased in ice, and the other crawling on the ground away from a fuming Zane ready to attack while Nya and Lloyd chased after him.

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU,” Zane screamed, straddling the man with a shuriken to his throat, “YOU MADE ME COME OUT HERE FOR NOTHING! YOU WASTED MY TIME FOR WHAT?! A FUCKING DRAGON! WHO SENT YOU! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO PIXAL IS! YOU HAVEN’T EVEN FUCKING SEEN HER! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT SHE EVEN LOOKS LIKE, DO YOU!”

“ZANE YOU GOTTA CHILL,” Nya yelled trying to pull him of the man.

“Where is Cole when you need him,” Lloyd muttered, doing his best to help Nya.

Once they got Zane off the man, he turned and stomped away, “YOU NEED TO COOL OFF MAN,” Lloyd called after him.

“I’M ALREADY COLD ENOUGH!”

Nya and Lloyd both sighed looking at each other, “I really had hope we’d find her,” Nya remarked.

“Let’s just had back to the monastery,” Lloyd huffed defeated, “after we make sure this guy won’t die of hyperthermia.”

“Come on, guys,” Nya sighed, look at Arin, Sora, and Ryu before the returned to the Bounty.

On the way back to the monastery, Zane mediated, or what everyone assumed was mediating, until Lloyd approached him, “what do you want,” the droid asked, quiet cold.

“I wanted know how you were holding up,” Lloyd answered.

“I don’t know, Lloyd, how am I doing,” he scoffed, “I miss my wife so much that I have led us on a -what did Sora call it- wild goose chase to find out that a 16-year-old kid right,” he was standing at this point, far from the isles of meditation he was at before, “I was wrong! I have yet to find one of the few things that make me truly happy, the woman I have loved for ages! And I would have seen it if I wasn’t so blinded by the idea of just have her back beside me, FUCK! I CHECKED IF SHE WAS THERE IF SHE WAS EVEN AROUND AND SHE WASN’T! NO PART OF THE BOUNTY’S SYSTEMS -MY SYSTEMS- PICKED HER UP! I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE SHE IS!”

Lloyd nodded, “I just… I just want to know she’s okay,” Zane choked, “is that too much to ask.”

“Not at all, Zane.”

“I miss my wife, Lloyd, I miss her a lot.”

#NInjago #ninjago dragons rising #pixane #zane #pixal #fanfiction #lloyd #nya #arin #ryu #sora #elfboyeros

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meetmyothersouls · 2 years

Note

I’m your biggest fan & totally obsessed with the Halloween theme! Can I request 🔪Hotel of Horrors

You're so so kind! Thank you so much, never thought I'd have a fan :) This one's for you!

Hotel of Horrors

Warnings: creepy hotel, mentions of ghosts, curses and death, knives and lots of threatening

Timothee x first person reader

I'm pissed.

I slam my hand against the bell on a counter that no one sits behind. Not only is my room a mess, but it smells like a dead raccoons ass. I wish I was kidding, but it's pretty fucking bad.

"Hello?" I slam my palm once more on the bell, breaking it in the process. "Does anyone work in this shit hole?"

"I do," a shaky voice says as a body shoots up from behind the counter. He knocks over a vase behind him and barely saves it from shattering on the ground. He couldn't save the dying roses or the water from spilling out. "I do," he repeats.

His whole entrance startles me, and I step back a few inches. Did he not hear me torturing the bell sitting on his counter? And what the hell was he doing on the floor? A slew of other questions come to mind, but the timid man behind the counter starts talking again. He's tall, skinny and deathly pale. He reminds me a lot of a Tim Burton Claymation character. Dark circles surround his eyes rimmed in red and he licks his lips nervously. "S-so sorry, ma'am. I'm Tim Chalamet, a-a-and I run this establishment." His fist pounds on the counter and the action startles him even though he's the one who did it. "Wha-what can I do for you?"

"Well, you can start by chilling the hell out. You need a xanny or something? You're making me anxious as fuck, dude." Tim swallows hard as I speak. He looks around the lobby like a scared, tortured puppy, waiting to be attacked. By what? I'm not sure but he's gotta cut that shit out. "And second, have you or anyone else been in room 794? It's actually offensive."

"7-794?" Tim's shaky hands move to the keyboard of an old computer. He types what I assume to be my room number as his eyes bounce across the screen. "Oh," he says, his face draining of what color remained in it.

"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'?"

"N-nothing. Nothing. I'll gladly reimburse you and give you a new room for free. No one should be in room 394."

"And why is that?" I ask. He's peaked my curiosity.

Tim's hand shoots up and runs nervously through his hair, tousling it. He grabs a handful off it, but lets it go before he pulls any of it out. This dude is going through it. "Uhhh, died. Someone died in there. Multiple someone's actually."

"Multiple!?"

"Y-yes 34 to be exact. Rooms cursed. I'm so sorry."

I'm not sure if he's apologizing because of the mishap of me getting the room or the fact that there's a very grand possibility that I am now cursed myself.

Fuck.

"You're fuckin' kidding."

"No. No, sadly not." Tim shoots back down and pops back up with a new room key. 795. I can't help but roll my eyes. Like room 795 is any less cursed than its lovely neighbor 794. "Here's you're new k-key. Enjo-oy your stay." He drops the key on the counter and turns, making his way to a set of swinging doors, I assume lead to a break room of some sort. I've still got to get my stuff out of my old room, but at this point I'm too spooked to go by myself, but I'm writing a new book and need several of the things out of that room. Fuck, this place. I don't want to go alone. In my head I'm whining and stomping like a four year old. Tim has already disappeared behind the double swinging doors and I hear a TV flip on. I've got to convince Mr. Pantophobia to help me get my shit from the cursed room. I don't actually need help and I would usually never ask a man to help me lug my things around, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I pull my shirt down a little bit, exposing some cleavage.

"Tim? Hellooooo?" I knock on the wooden counter and he comes back out. Thank god. "Oh good you're still here. Okay, so...I'm probably going to need some help gathering my things." I see his pupils dilate as he assumes what I'm about to ask him. "Think you can help a girl out?"

His stutter gets worse as he reaches underneath the counter. He brings out a ring of keys and shakes vigorously. "S-s-s-s-sure. Yeah. Yeah sure." I know he doesn't want to, and he didn't even put up a fight when I asked. He didn't even look at my tits. We walk silently, to the elevator, and my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Sooo, you got any inside details on any of the 34 murders?"

Tim doesn't move his head but his eyes travel to the side until he's looking at me in what would seem like a painful manner.

"No."

Liar.

"Oh come on! You've own this place! You've got to know something about at least one of them!" I egg him on as he we arrive to the elevator. Tim uses a long bony finger to press the up arrow on the vintage elevator. It's definitely been upgraded since the hotel originally opened in the 50's, but they've kept the same old timey look to both the inside and the outside of the hotel. It would be really nice if the place wasn't so fucking creepy. Two sets of doors open and we step inside. They close slowly and Tim presses his finger against a round button with a number seven printed on it and we lurch upward.

"Th-this hotel has been in my family since it opened. We aren't sure wh-why it's plagued with misfortune, but we try not to dwell on it too much."

"Why not? History is history. It happened and it happened here, dude. You can't change that."

I'm actually shocked that this place doesn't get more business. I've not seen more than five people since I arrived here and that includes Tim. Usually haunted or cursed hotels bring in tons of business, especially when there's a possibility of catching a ghost on camera.

Tim is silent for a moment after my response, and it's probably because I'm fucking right and he doesn't want to admit it. But when he opens his mouth to speak, I'm not prepared for what comes out of his mouth or the chills that pepper my body.

"They don't like when we talk about what happened."

"Th-they who?" Great. Now I'm stuttering. The elevator dings and we come to a stop. Tim steps off and I trail behind him. He's giving me the creeps now and it doesn't help that the lights flicker as we walk through the hall of floor seven. "Tim, what does that even mean? 'They don't like when we talk about what happened.'"

We're in front of room 794 in no time, and I suddenly have the urge to just take my shit and leave all together. Tim's freaking me out and so is this creepy fucking hotel. I feel like there are eyes on me even though no one is here. Tim brings the ring of keys up to the knob and I notice he's less jittery, less nervous and for some reason that makes me more nervous. The fuck is going on? The key Tim separates from the rest is old, rusty and much longer than the others. It goes in with ease and twists only once until the door opens.

Suddenly this room is a whole hell of a lot more unwelcoming knowing it's cursed. Tim holds his hand out into the room as if to say after you and follows it up with a jerk of his head into the darkness. Why didn't I leave the lights on before I came downstairs to complain. I suddenly feel stupid that I requested his help to move my shit one door over.

"You know what? I think I got it from here. Thanks...for the escort."

"Nonsense," Tim replies, kicking the door shut behind him. "I'd be happy to help." He's no longer stuttering and his movements look confident and lethal.

I'm scared.

I'm shaking as I haphazardly throw my clothes back into my suitcase, not caring whether or not they're dirty or clean. I want to get out of this room and more importantly, away from Tim. Why'd he have to shut the door? The room seems stuffy now, and I'm sweating even though all I'm doing is throwing my shit back into my suitcase. I add my laptop and pocket my cell phone before I zip up my suitcase.

"Okay. Done. Let's go."

Tim has a half smirk on his face and one foot against the door behind him. He looks absolutely dangerous and I really, really miss it when he was afraid of his own shadow. "You want to know the real reason this room is cursed?" He asks, stutter long gone.

"N-no, I just want to get to my new room." I muster up the courage to walk toward him. He's skinny as fuck, I probably have more muscle than he does and can easily shove him aside, but when I come within a few inches of him, he stands up straight and towers over me.

Was he this tall before?

He's got a hand behind his back and when he pulls it out from behind him he reveals a knife. I mentally kick myself in the ass, knowing that's what he went behind those double doors for before we came up here. Damn it. He points the tip of the blade at me and I begin to walk backwards.

"I'll ask again, y/n. Do you want to know the real reason this room is cursed." He grits out the last word and pushes the blade into my stomach ever so slightly. I gasp at the contact, but play along. I have to play along if I want to get out of this.

"Y-yes. Yes I do. Tell me."

Tim pulls the knife away, but only so that the tip is no longer piercing the flesh of my abdomen. He cracks his neck and the sound of bones popping is overwhelming in this quiet room.

"Guess."

A tear slips from my left eye as my back hits the wall. No where else to go.

"I don't like guessing games, Tim. Just tell me."

"TOO FUCKING BAD," he screams, slicing into my jeans, making a clean cut into my thigh. It's deep enough to inflict pain but not deep enough to cause me to bleed out. He's got experience. "I do. Now, take a fucking guess or I'll push this knife so deep into your stomach, your organs will come with it on the way out."

A sob escapes my mouth and it takes me a minute to catch my breath.

I'm going to fucking die in here.

"You're taking to long, y/n." Tim raises his knife, the blade gleams in what little light shines from the heavily curtained window. "And I don't like to be kept waiting." He moves quickly, plunging it toward my stomach. I'm lucky enough to catch his wrist, and from sheer adrenaline alone, I'm able to hold him back and give him an answer.

"BECAUSE," I scream. "Because your family is batshit fucking crazy and you are the ones that kill here."

He smirks at me and I curse myself for even thinking that he looks the least bit attractive in this moment.

"Very good, y/n," Tim praises. "You know, I feel bad about this." The confusion must be evident on my face. He yanks his hand from my grip and uses the knife to scrape away the hair that's fallen into my face. "Don't be dumb. I mean the killing you part."

"Let me go then, you asshole." I'd love to knee him in the dick right now, but I don't. I want to leave this with as few stab wounds as possible.

"No. No, can't do that. Not when you know the family secret."

"Oh, geez. I won't tell anyone," I lie. He lets me go and I'm spilling my fucking guts.

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. You're very pretty, y/n, but lying makes even the prettiest faces ugly."

I roll my eyes. This is taking too long. "Just kill me or let me go, you fucking psycho."

Tim taps the knife on his chin, contemplatively. "I don't think I'll do either."

My heart sinks as I think of the torture he has planned for me. This has taken a sick turn and I'm feeling more and more hopeless the longer this goes on. Why did I have to go downstairs and complain. Why? "Then what the fuck are you going to do?"

"Marry me."

"What?" He doesn't like the tone in my voice and by the look on his face, he's feeling a bit stabby. "I-I'm sorry. I'm confused."

"You seem to think you have an option in this. You marry me and you join me in carrying on my family business. I put a few kids in you so they take over. Or I kill you. Make a choice and do it quick. I'm missing my show."

A million thoughts cross my mind. The main one being the fact that he thinks I'll let him close enough to stick his dick in me and get me pregnant. The next one being that either way, I never get to leave this hotel of horrors.

"You're taking to LONG, y/n."

Tim raises his knife again and I have no choice but to join him.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #dark!timothee #Halloween #Halloween special

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britcision · 6 months

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Sooooo

Doctor Who specials

Done the first one and holy shit I fucking died it was amazing 10/10 the look the feel the acting it was all so fucking good

And also

I’m going to kick RTD to the ground and stomp on him jfc every single thing about taking Davros out of his wheelchair is driving me fucking insane

“We’re going to completely change the look and feel of this classic villain whose aesthetic is intrinsically connected to the most fucking iconic aliens in the series because “people will associate disability with evil”

Because clearly all of the audience are stupid children who will be somehow surprised that Walking Davros is just as evil as Wheelchair Davros”

If you wanted to challenge the association of wheelchairs and evil… put some fucking heroes in wheelchairs. We got Shirley, great! 3-1 ration of good guy minorities to bad guys, if we’re bringing back Davros we need another 2 protagonists in chairs and then, GET THIS

Hire. Disabled. Actors.

There are actors who use wheelchairs as part of their daily fucking life. A lot of them could not audition to play Walking Davros. Recast the guy who’s played him so far, he’s done such a fantastic job but literally the choice is “give money to an actual real wheelchair user or stand this guy up”

“We can’t possibly show a villain with a visible disability because people will think disabled people are evil”

Aka “people would associate disability with this One Bad Character so instead of giving them good characters associated with disability too, we’re taking one away”.

Going on about removing his fucking facial scars, I DID NOT REALISE DAVROS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HUMAN. I didn’t think he was supposed to look like Just Some Fucking Guy, he was a fucking alien I figured his eyes were just Like That and he liked the cyborg third eye aesthetic

(Kelads and them other dudes from the first dalek special get a pass for being Just Some Guys because the budget, man, the budget, we don’t know that they don’t all age into scrunkly lil aliens)

Like. Just fucking. Look at this.

https://www.doctorwhotv.co.uk/rtd-indicates-davros-classic-look-is-being-retired-as-it-associated-disability-with-evil-99183.htm#:~:text=November%2018%2C%202023-,RTD%20Indicates%20Davros'%20Classic%20Look%20is%20Being%20Retired,it%20“Associated%20Disability%20With%20Evil”&text=The%202023%20Doctor%20Who%20Children,support%20unit%20and%20facial%20scarring.

“There’s a problem with the old Davros: he’s a wheelchair user who is evil.”

Because… wheelchair users are magically immune from sin? People might think the wheelchair is what made him evil?

There’s a better fucking way to counter The Disabled Evil trope and it’s with more disabled heroes and giving roles to actual real disabled people who exist in the fucking world and need money to not be dead actually

Wiping your show clean of its most well known visibly disabled character is not a fucking improvement over having visible evil ones when the world already wants to shove disabled people out of the way and pretend we don’t fucking exist

If you’re scared people will associate disability with evil, don’t remove the evil disabled folks. Add. Disabled. Heroes. Explicitly associate disability with good too, and humanity, and the idea that we are human fucking people and capable of just as much duality as everyone else

Davros fucking walking is just WRONG. His character was visually designed to be dude-but-dalek, he’s in that life support system because it looks like a fucking dalek, and they rode those bitches around on bicycles inside the cases because big budget has never been a Doctor Who guarantee

He looks like a wrinkly little scrotum and he rolls around being bad at stairs because lifeforms that aren’t human are fine too because the show is about fucking aliens (and the fandom is about fucking aliens)

Davros walking around on feet and looking like Just Some Guy because Oh Dear Disability Cannot Possibly Be Something A Villain Has

We shall simply put a minor UNIT character in a chair and give her badass lines and also wheelchair guns but not, y’know, someone as iconic and memorable as Davros who will come back for 60 years (well the daleks have, Davros himself is a wee bit younger but he’s still great)

Like no I get that RTD’s been trying and he’s been getting an education and getting down with trans characters and all that other good stuff and social consciousness but Speak To Some Actual Disabled People And Also Hire Them. For the writer’s room, for the actors, for the crew

Real disabled people can be assholes. They can be dicks, they can be unpleasant, they can be evil, and so long as THAT IS NOT THE ONLY THING YOU SHOW ON TV people aren’t going to get confused

Taking away disabled roles isn’t an improvement

If the only notable thing about your villain is that they are disabled, you have written a boring villain. The way you prove it is not removing the disability.

Too many stories “fix” disabled characters by having them magically not need their wheelchairs anymore and that’s their “happy ending”, “oh they can walk again”

I am not in a chair, I am not visibly disabled, but walking still fucking sucks and it hurts and it is overrated and the constant messaging that disabled people should not be visible or just plain aren’t there is actually so much worse than the Disabled Villain trope

Because if visibly disabled people are not allowed to exist and take up space, why the fuck would I want to be part of that space? My disability’s going to become “inconvenient” on a pretty regular basis, and after 3 years of covid there are not words for how goddamn over I am of “well you can just stay home and never participate in society again”

I will give Walking Davros a shot but holy shit that article is depressing

(and if they gave him cyber legs I would absolutely die sorry daleks xoxo your creator said cybermen win, but they won’t, because leg braces are also a Visible Disability Aid)

#dw spoilers #doctor who #doctor who spoilers #disability #actually disabled

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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More Than You Know, Part 1

Summary: Charles Blackwood just had to show off his fiancé.

Pairings: Charles Blackwood X Reader, Angel Reyes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, cheating, death of a major character, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Masterlist

*divider created by @firefly-graphics

Charles lifts up your hand, kissing your knuckles, and giving you a satisfied smile. The two of you pose for all the pictures, and you move to hold him, sinking into his embrace.

This wasn’t something you were used to, a big show and ordeal. Wanting to get your picture in the paper for all the right people. Charles Blackwood was.

Charles was everything you weren’t used to. Steady, patient, debonair, suave, but there was no passion with him. You didn’t have to worry about if he would come home injured, or worse dead, but he was just safe. Boring.

Even though Charles was kind, you weren’t sure what his need to go to your old stomping grounds was. The need to show everyone you were taken, or just to check out your hometown.

The two of you stuck out in your freshly pressed and pastel outfits. And he loved letting the people who recognized you know, that you were getting married. That he had tamed you and was moving you to the suburbs.

Visiting an old bar that you at one point went to regularly, your eyes scan the smoky atmosphere. Recoiling and terrified of who you might see. Or worse who might see you without your knowledge. Charles gives you a soft kiss to your lips, his crystal blue eyes looking all around yours and sighs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…I don’t want to be here. You know why.”

Charles tsks you, spinning you away from him, before pulling you back into his chest. “He was the one that pushed you away. He should know that you weren’t going to sit and sulk, waiting on him.”

You give him a nod, wishing he was right. But the sea of Mayan cuts and tattoos were blinding your senses. You just knew that he was there. Spotting EZ quickly, and he gives you a regretful grin. “I need to freshen up,” you tell Charles quickly before retreating to the bathroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to tell yourself that he had left you. You had every right to move on. And while Charles wasn’t perfect; you were satisfied. You splash your face with water, trying to get the coolness to calm your nerves.

Almost choking on air, when you struggle to breathe. A knock on the door slightly takes you out of that moment, “I’m almost finished.”

“As long as your decent, just open the fucking door.”

You sling the door open, and jump into his warm embrace, “Ari! Oh my god!” pulling back only to take a look at him. Your hands run over his cut, noting a few of the missing rockers. “You’re nomad?”

“Things aren’t quite the same since you left,” you move back into his embrace, resting your head on his hard chest. He always did have the ability to calm you. His arms circle around you tightly. “He’s here.”

“Didn’t need to hear that,” you groan on his chest.

“You saw EZ. Wherever he is…”

“I know. I gotta get back to my fiancé.”

Ari pulls you back smiling, “That shit sounds weird. You look good Stepford Wife.”

“Oh, shut up,” you give him a playful smack. Rolling your eyes at how vastly different Charles was from him.

Walking back out, you can’t help to have your eyes scanning the bar. You tell yourself it’s to find Charles, but you had already spotted him. The truth is, you’re looking for him, Angel Reyes. The man that stole your heart and soul.

You feel those dark eyes on you before you see him. The stare that still haunts you. Left you wanting more. And left so much unfinished business. With a sharp chill running up your spine, you spin around, spotting those deep brown eyes.

Nearly glowing in the haze of his cigarette. His ringed fingers tap on the table, and Angel forgot everything he had previously been talking about. Right now, it’s only you.

Only you brought that amount of sunshine to his world. He takes a drink from his imported beer, only stand up. His tall gigantic body walking closer to you. His long legs get him there way too soon, and you nearly bolt towards Charles. Seeing him making too many unresolved feelings bubble out of you. Feeling weak in the knees, and your stomach in knots.

Leaning around you, he orders another beer, and you think he’s just not going to speak to you, “Marrying up, huh?”

“What?” you ask. Anger already lacing through your words, as you try and remind yourself that he left you.

“He looks like a real catch.”

“Angel, you left me.”

“I left you, for you. That is what you deserve,” his eyes finally look into yours, and you’re ready to abandon this whole situation. “It looks good on you. Probably comes home the same time everyday. Has a picture perfect house, good job, doesn’t leave you worried.”

“You made the decision Angel. I didn’t get a say.”

“Go back to your fiancé and stay away from Santo Padre,” you give him a final once over, and regretfully so. Your mind on anything but your fiancé now. Only on the way Angel’s hands felt on your body.

Angel can’t ignore you though. Grits his teeth every time he sees Charles’ hands all over you.

The way Charles’ hands barely caress your skin. Or the way that he leans into you, when he has something to say. But really hates the way there’s no sparkle in your eyes. And he would know, he’s seen it before. With him.

Angel knows how wrong it is to be angry about another man with you. Knows that he has no right to dictate how you lived your life now, but he hates every second. Dreading those moments when Charles whispers in your ear, and your singsong laugh makes the bar standstill. Like a train wreck, he can’t look away. Cant tear his eyes from the only person he ever thought about leaving the MC and the life for.

“She still loves you,” EZ sits down beside his brother. “Would leave him in a heartbeat.”

“I can’t do that to her. She’s happy.”

“Naw,” EZ says looking over at you and Charles still dancing. “She’s putting on a show for you. Convince you she’s in love, and she convinces herself.”

“Man, shut the fuck up.”

You didn’t want to stay in Santo Padre, but Charles needed to do something for work. Said that it made more sense for you to just stay at your parents house. Get it cleaned up to sell. You had agreed, but weren’t prepared for the memories of this place. Wanting to just trash everything.

Pictures of you, and all of them haunting your being around every corner. And even your old bedroom.

You stare at the old bed for too long. Still the same memories in your mind, before turning off the light, this room would have to wait. A light knock brings you out of your thought process and you walk confused to the door.

“Angel?” you ask. Staring at him in this house wasn’t easy. Even he pushes you aside. Walking into the living room, he paces around, only making your breathing quicken even more. “Angel you can’t just come here, and…”

“Do you love him?”

“I’m marrying him.”

His large frame starts to back you down the hall. Your chest heaves with the anticipation of what he wants. “That’s not what I fucking asked. Do you love him?”

You stand there unable to answer. Your eyes never leaving his, but a steady pace still walks you to your old bedroom. “You don’t get to come into my life and dictate how I live it.”

“You came here, Mi vida. And then I had to watch him.”

“Don’t act like you’ve been here the past five years not getting pussy. Does it really bother you thinking about his hands all over my body? He made the fucking commitment. You pushed me away.”

“For you! Do you get that? I did that for you! And then you come here rubbing it in my face how I can’t be that for you. You never should have came here.”

You stop when the back of your legs hit the mattress, and you can’t do anything but stare up at him. “Do you love him?”

You shake your head no, almost wanting to look away from him. “Who do you love?”

“You,” slowly he bends down to meet your lips, before you’re jumping up into his arms.

His hands go to remove everything off of you, that he comes into contact with. His body crawling the both of you on the bed. His lips go to kiss down the expanse of your body, before you realize what’s happening, “Angel, what is this? A goodbye?”

“What?” he asks never stopping his motions.

“I’m engaged.”

“Not anymore,” he says removing your ring. He pulls out another, holding it up to you. “This is a promise to forever. I can’t let you marry him. You love me.”

His puppy dog eyes wait for an answer. Pouting up at you as you try and think. Your mind in a whirlwind. “Do you love me, Angel?”

“More than you know.”

“Tell me,” you whisper. Never having heard those words come out of his mouth, and you didn’t realize how desperate you were to hear them.

“I love you, Mi Vida. Te quiero, mi amor.”

Your hands connect to his jeans, but he pushes you down. Slowly taking off his cut, before he gently lays the leather on your desk. Walking back to where you are and he watches your quaking body as he removes the rest of his clothing. “Say the word, and I leave this life behind. We can start a new fucking life.”

He jerks your body down the bed by your ankle, peering at your weeping cunt, “I mean it. I’ll have to tie up some loose ends, but…”

“Angel,” you nearly growl at him. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“There’s my girl. Glad the suburbs didn’t change you.”

Teasing you, he runs his tip through your folds, gathering your slick. Slapping his fat cock over your clit, and arrogantly laughing when your body arches. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him into your quivering and waiting pussy.

He slowly slides in. Bottoming out, and you can’t remember feeling so full. So completely, and more in love. Nothing had changed with Angel, just space.

He stays still a moment, letting you adjust to him, and his hands pet around your face affectionately. His thumb outlines your features, “You’re the most beautiful,” he pulls out of your aching walls, only to crash back in, and you whimper at the sharpness.

“Trust me, I’ve looked. You ready?” with a head nod, Angel starts his slow, but pounding thrusts. Gripping tight to the headboard, and hissing when you scratch down his back.

His pace picks up a bit, and he slams into you. Feeling like his whole body is splitting you in half with how he pushes into you. Those beautiful eyes smiling down at you. Loving how he’s still able to make you a mess with little effort.

He was what your future was supposed to look like, and with one look at your finger, you hope his mother’s ring is enough to keep him with you. Needing him to keep but one promise. And that was to be yours.

“Angel!”

“Shh, I know. I know. No one feels like this,” when you whimper out, his name, he crashes his lips into yours. Swallowing every one of your sweet sounds.

“You’re still the best,” he whispers on your mouth. Your hands cling tighter to him, when your body heats up.

Unable to even think straight with how good he’s making you feel. Gripping as tight as possible when you start to see stars. “Fuuuuuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”his voice grunts out. Neither of you taking note of the front door slamming, or Charles driving away, nor do you care.

His pace changes to a rough, deep, and slow jolt as your cunt milks him dry. His warmth, nearly making you cum again. “Angel, don’t leave me.”

“Just one more time. And I’m done.”

You wished Angel would have listened. When Ari came to hand you his bloody cut, he also had to hold your body up before it crashes to the floor. “I couldn’t stop it. We were ambushed, and I told him not to go. Told him, he had something better waiting for him.”

You look at his mother’s ring and want to cry, throwing it away, and pretend this wasn’t real. But it was the one thing that remained of Angel. “They came from nowhere. EZ is wanting a war.”

“I don’t care anymore. He promised. Ari, he promised me.”

You look at your parents house with the sold sign in the front yard. You tried. Tried for a few years, but too many memories remained. You give a final sniffle, before you feel a small tug to your hand.

“Come on.”

“I know Angel, let’s go tell Abuelo and EZ, bye, okay?”

Your new little Angel gets the biggest smile on his face, ready to start a new life in Charming. Even more excited that Ari was going to be his neighbor.

Charming wasn’t too different from Santo Padre. Still quaint. Still the usual riff raff. But, like it’s name suggested, it was Charming. You were beyond annoyed that you had to get acquainted with the local mechanic shop too soon.

Angel holds your hand tightly while you listen to the man rattle off all that’s wrong. “It’s an old car.”

“It was my Abuelo’s,” Angel tells him matter of factly.

“Let me see what I can do, okay? Jax, can you come here?”

A new man trots over, giving you a crooked grin before looking over the paper work. “Is this the only car you have?”

“My car seat won’t fit on the back of my daddy’s bike,” you shush your opinionated four-year-old, looking back up at Jax with an awkward smile.

“I apologize.”

Jax squats down to look at the little boy, smiling up at you before giving Angel all his attention, “One day you’ll get to ride on the back of his bike with him.”

“No I won’t. My daddy is a real angel now.”

“I’m sorry,” you go to pick him up, and Jax stands up. “Can you fix the car or not? And what’s the damage? I have a friend that can…”

“Hey,” he calmly says, “I’ve got a car that will be cheaper to buy than the cost to fix this up,” you shake your head no at him. “I mean, it’s not the nicest. Just nicer than this and the air conditioner works. Looks like the little man gets a bit hot.”

“Okay,” you swallow your pride, because Angel’s comfort is worth more than that.

“Ope, you wanna put little man’s seat in the Caddy? And don’t you dare try and argue with me,” he warns. “You wanna show him how to do that, buddy?” Angel giggles up at him before trotting off.

“I’m very thankful, but honest, I have a friend who is willing to help out.”

“It’s fine. It’s the least I can do for a pretty girl,” you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you turn to look away. “Your late husband rode?”

“We were never married. And yes. I can’t part with his bike. It was his first child. He never met…how much do I owe you?”

“We can work out a payment plan. Starting with dinner Friday night?” you look aghast at him and he chuckles. “Please?”

Ari follows you around your little house, while Angel plays loudly in his room. “And, our code word is flamingo. You use that in a sentence and I know to come and get you, okay?”

“It’s a date.”

“With your mechanic. Won’t even tell me his name. Im slightly offended.”

“You judge,” you say putting on some boots. He gives you an odd look. “He rides.”

“You have a type,” to which you can only shrug.

Jax pulls up to your home, spotting that green Harley in your open garage. Giving it an odd look before he walks up to the door. Knocking only to be greeted by Ari, and his blood runs cold.

“Hey, Jax. I just need to tell Angel, bye. I’ll be right out. Ari, be nice.”

As soon as you retreat, Ari leans up against the doorframe, sizing Jax up. “Look familiar?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jax answers surely.

Ari leans into Jax’s ear, his voice a low growl, “I know what you did. You gonna tell her?”

Masterlist

#charles blackwood #charles black x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes smut #biker au #jax teller #jax teller x reader #ari levinson

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blysse-and-blunder · 9 months

Text

In lieu of a week in the woods

sunday, august 27, 2023 ~ 11:30pm

just got back from 6+ days off the grid, swimming, drinking tea, porch sittin’, and generally revisiting old stomping grounds. somehow it still wasn’t long enough.

(you can add a read more on mobile now??!!)

Reading picked out some specific weird old trade paperbacks to read at the cottage, and successfully finished one: margaret atwood’s lady oracle. one of those books where I will be thinking about it forever, but not necessarily because I enjoyed it? good prose moments, good turns of phrase or moments of clear perception, but i found the main character sort of perplexing—the bits of old Toronto, vintage mid century canadian childhood and adolescence, were probably what will stick with me. That and the way that I think it was trying to get psychonanalytic but, in classic 80s feminist fiction style, it didn’t make a ton of sense. also the fatphobia? like, experimenting with the pov of someone with intense body dysmorphia / weight shaming / internalized fatphobia felt unempathetic? like i was supposed to be impressed or titillated or surprised by this choice, that the book would even consider having a main character who was fat. period typical, sure, part of the mid century setting, sure, but also like. gratuitous.

also finished italo calvino’s the baron in the trees, and a.k. larkwood’s the unspoken name, and started the audiobook for the long way to a small angry planet. Also began my harrow the ninth reread, and wow this book is good. and even more so when you can follow what’s happening.

listening only the fact that I did spend so long literally in the woods has prevented me from having in-depth thoughts and feelings about hozier’s unreal earth. more to come as I sit with it longer, but so far—strong positive feelings. some new ground, some old ground, and some things that bridge the two nicely. worth listening to with headphones or however you can pick up all the layers in the mix. I really like ‘Icarian carrion’ on this listen.

watching watched a couple of episodes of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds this evening, since being back— ‘lost in translation,’ and the lower decks cross-over. loved seeing boimler and mariner in the flesh, and the different gags they fit into that one, despite the fact that one of the things I’ve liked most about this season has been the show gradually giving time to some of the more philosophical questions trek can explore—but lower decks does that too, sometimes better, and these two episodes back to back fit pretty well.

playing it was a very boardgame forward week at the cottage— clue, PARKS, and a new one for me, shadows over Camelot. not an uncomplicated setup, but some of the tie-ins to actual arthurian themes (the grail quest keeps pulling players in but it will grind them up and spit them out! the next generation are the ones who survive!) caught and held my enjoyment when the different mechanics threatened to lose it. I also tuned in to d&d remotely for a bit, though my connection was bad, and my rig was rated ‘haunted’ by the other players. they could hear crickets over the voice chat 😌🌲

making sewed a new patch onto my jacket and moved another two—picture to follow. didn’t do any of the mending I brought, but have had thoughts about what makes sense and what I might buy to supplement the projects. new fabric store on my commute deserves a visit, methinks.

working on truly the answer here is ‘not overthinking or delaying out of perfectionism’. which I have already done. finished all but the last eng 385 essay feedback, finished proofing for joe and responding to the department’s newsletter person for the piece she’s writing; still have to finish this letter of recommendation and these two (2!?) chapter drafts. the point is to be able to write a final sentence and just. let them go. learn how to not stop shy of finishing something. learn how to bring something (anything) to a state of some kind of completion. sure, right. sure.

if you need me, I’ll be back in the woods.

#in lieu of a commonplace book #weekly roundup #ilcb

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