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blackopals-world · 1 year

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I've Found Home

Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Implied relationship

She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.

Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.

Move on.

Forget.

There was no going back.

You chose this.

You wanted this.

After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.

A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.

She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.

People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.

Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.

Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.

He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.

Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.

...

Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.

The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.

The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.

Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.

...

Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.

Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.

Yuu certainly didn't.

She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.

It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?

She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.

But she missed them...

Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.

(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)

When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.

A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.

She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.

She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.

Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.

Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.

She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.

The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.

Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.

He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.

"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.

The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.

"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.

He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.

"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.

But children don't understand these things.

"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.

She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.

After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.

Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.

"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.

He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.

For a writer she struggled to find one.

Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess

Only one name stuck

Grimm

"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.

Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"

Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.

Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.

She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.

Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.

"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.

"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.

" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.

When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.

"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.

"What about the lost princess?"

"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."

"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"

"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."

"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."

"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek

"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.

When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?

Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.

She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.

Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.

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justpoliteconversations · 2 months

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Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 3)

The house does not make a home, but a home can make a man.

The trash pile has grown again. It's spilling out of the bin.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The house is bigger than you remember it being from the game. For one, there's a sectioned off washroom hidden partially under the loft stairs and a full kitchen area in the left rear of the house. The ceiling is also ridiculously high for a one story (technically two) house, but you let that detail slide. It's to your- Link's, benefit, after all.

Another thing, upgrades are not offered automatically here. Though that should've been obvious in hindsight and you're a bit embarrassed to admit it'd slipped your mind. Most people would decorate and furnish their own homes with either their old furniture or newly bought.

That's what the many, many shops the game never had reason to show were for, after all.

Therein led to your current dilemma.

Practicality or comfort? The large thin rug with dark patterns, or a smaller plush one with elegant designs embroidered at the edges? Red covers? Blue, white, gray? All of them perhaps? Maybe just three?

Does Link prefer cast iron or the wok? Steel forks or maybe chop sticks? A full set of pots and pans, or just two or three good ones for repeated use? Which set of knives? The specialty set or a general use one?

Should the loft have a rug too? Should you get both? Should you get three? What about the washroom?

Towels? A vase...

Dumb idea. No vases.

Should there be two beds? When Link frees Zelda from the castle, surely the poor woman won't be made to live there in that festering monster's nest of a ruin. And having been trapped there for a century as the world outside moved forward (after having been royalty nonetheless), would she even know how to live on her own?

Would it be presumptuous of you to already set up for her arrival before Link even properly remembered who she was? You didn't want to make Link feel obligated to fufill your assumptions like that. He already had so much on his shoulders. He didn't need you to add more.

So, only one bed. Sheets?

"Jus' get them all, ya cluckin' mother cucco." Adino snapped waspishly, thin brows pulled down into a severe looking glare. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall closest to the 'Odds and Ends' shop's door, pointedly.

You barely spared him a glance, used to his attitude after having known him for nearly three years. And honestly, it was all for show anyway. Adino loved shopping with you, but the spiteful little shit would never admit it. Even under pain of death.

'Jus' making sure the walkin' rupee bag doesn't fall dead to an ill fated breeze.' He'd snark if ever questioned why he was following you around on his days off.

Lies, of course. The truth is he's lonely. So very lonely and too hurt yet to reach out to anyone else for companionship.

The man he'd called father for 14 years of his short life suddenly throws him out of the only home he'd known with barely the clothes on his back. All after finding out his recently departed wife had been having affairs. And the kicker, the bastard claims he supposedly doesn't even know if Adino's his or not (despite them having the exact same eyes and brows).

It'd been convenient though, you'd give him that. Just washed his hands of the situation entirely. Started fresh with a new wife and got rid of the unnaturally (Adino had parroted coldly, like a curse and a confession breathed in the same breath) effeminate son that may or may not be his.

No stings attached. Just living comfortably on his late wife's family property and shacking up with her younger sister.

And that abandoned son running, running, running across Hyrule. Until he dropped right outside of Hateno, quiet and hurting and nearly driven mad with hateful, writhing loathing.

You pull yourself from those thoughts. It's not your business. Adino may have shared that information with you during his mandatory background check, but that doesn't mean it's any of your business.

Even if the boy is living with you, and has been for the last three years.

(Even if you already ruined that man's fletching business. Even if you never told Adino why that man'd taken a very long walk off a very tall cliff.

Even if Adino knew and left flowers on your desk every year on that day ever since.)

"I'll take them all. As well as the rugs, towels and curtains, please. Oh. And that tapestry. Yes. The one with the apples."

Adino snorted, rolling his eyes, and you smiled. A merchant's got to advertise wherever possible, after all.

The older, greying woman behind the counter nodded, glancing over to two younger women (her granddaughters, twins and five years orphaned. turned 17 last Fall) waiting unobtrusively near the back of the shop. They didn't need any more instruction than that, swiftly gathering your choices and folding them into neatly wrapped bundles.

You swear this family had to have some sheikah blood in them somewhere. Even if they had pitch black hair and the darkest grey eyes you've ever seen. They were just too quiet and efficient to be normal Hyrulians. (And were little known for their discretion above all else.)

You tipped the women for thier help. They thanked you with a quiet tilt of their perfectly kept heads, before returning to their preferred corner in the far back.

You didn't bother to barter with this woman. You paid full price for everything, and then tipped her too.

Four gold rupees. And a note, which she took with a nod and a knowing glint in her eyes.

(Because they were known for their discretion, and you appreciated that more than anything.

You knew she understood the flowers you left on her desk every year on the same day.

And you knew she'd understand this too.)

You left, but not before catching one of the twins (the one with the blue head cloth and lip rouge) staring longingly after Adino's back as he marched from the store in a dramatic huff. Her sister hiding a probable grin behind her red painted hand.

'Interesting. But not my problem.'

---

Link looked up the curved path to Hateno's guarded gate as he sheathed his guardian sword, the black mist of two hopelessly mangled bodies blowing away in the strong mountainside winds. Further back still was the semi-conscious groan of a young woman surrounded by fallen mushrooms.

Link ignored her slowly rising form, having checked her vitals earlier before being ambushed by a pair of bokoblins. He knew she'd be fine, and honestly, if she was sneaking around monster infested forests for mushrooms (Link could still hear the snorting of the beasts further past the treeline) then she must be able to take a hit or two and come out okay.

She must have had the same thoughts because she merely dusted herself off, picked up her fallen produce and made for the trees once more. Barely sparing Link a backwards wave before disappearing into the thick underbrush.

Link blinked after her. And sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So. That happened.

Link let it roll off his back easily enough. He had more important issues to deal with. Such as was it appropriate for him to just show up at your (and now his) doorstep fresh from the road and smelling every bit of it.

He discreetly sniffed under his arm and grimaced.

Surely you'd understand. You and him were connected after all, and you knew his name and knew he'd be coming to Hateno. A little roadside reek shouldn't be a big surprise.

Yet. He couldn't shake the self-consciousness. The irrational fear that you'd look at him and expect more than what you got.

Like that old man who was actually a dead person. Like that Impa woman, and everyone in that little village she lived in.

For how quickly he'd steamrolled through the untamed wilds of Hyrule just to meet you, he was oddly reluctant to continue now that he was at your metaphoric (and soon literal) doorstep.

He glanced down at himself, taking himself in with a critical eye.

The Sheikah armor he wore (it had been under 10,000 rupees, he checked) was covered in dust, grim and the unflattering stains of sweat, dried bloody drool (from that unfortunate incident with the bokoblin horse), grass and meat grease. His hair was so filthy it was nearly brown despite that equally unfortunate incident with the octorok having put him in the water several times (strong inconsistent winds make aiming bows hard, he'd discovered).

Hopefully you wouldn't be disgusted. He hoped you understood that he wasn't- well-

He wasn't who he used to be. Apparently.

"Link." A flat voice called out, and Link nearly jumped to attention at the unexpected interruption. He nearly reached for his sword too, before he stopped himself.

When Link looked up and met dark gray eyes, his heart started to tightened.

'Is that you, AM?' His eyes asked earnestly, wide and round with quiet searching. For recognition. For understanding. For anything at all.

Instead he got a slow, dispassionate blink and confusion as the woman spoke into the silence between them. "AM instructed me to lead you home, Master Link."

Link pointed to himself. "Master?" He rasped out quietly, voice rough and unpleasant even to his own ears. Nothing to say for the pain it caused at the base of his throat.

Without missing a beat the young woman nodded once, the blue bandana holding her dark hair back catching slightly in the wind. Blue painted lips barely moving as she said. "Yes. I will explain more once we arrive at your home."

Link nodded, still uncertain but trusting enough of this strange woman who knew the name (Alis? Nickname? Title, perhaps?) of his sheikah slate partner.

Tomorrow, he would be given a small journal detailing many of the dangers and wonders of this beautiful, wild world he now lived in. And he wouldn't be so trusting anymore.

And he'd have bananas, apparently. So many bananas.

But that's for tomorrow. Today?

Today was the first time he walked across the old, but sturdy footbridge. The first time he glanced over at the shrine glowing faintly to his left, peeking from behind a small cluster of buildings.

It was the first day he stood on the threshold of his (and your) new home. The first time since awakening he felt the beginning of heartbreak as he realized you were not there to greet him. That you would not be living with him. Ever.

('For now,' He thought in quiet defiance.)

And the first time since he opened his eyes in that dark, eerily glowing shrine he felt loved. When his eyes adjusted to the darker light of the house and found a home waiting for him.

Not just an empty building with four walls and a bed, but a rug with pretty dark patterns under a heavy wooden table. A bowl of apples at its center, with thick candles at either side. An intricately sewn tablecloth just slightly hanging over the sides in delicate little weaves.

He felt loved when he walked around the front room, boot-heavy steps thumping softly on polished hardwood floors, slowly taking in the space (the blue woman waiting patiently at the door). The small wooden sculptures upon carefully arranged tables, cute and quirky banners and tapestries brightening up the dimly lit room (one was slightly lower than the rest, another was slightly off-center, and Link felt warm at the imperfections). Sunflowers, a bird, a rock formation, an apple tree, a cat with a bell.

A sword and shield rack. Two armor stands. A few weapon's plaque hanging above them.

The food in the kitchen pantry. Completely unnecessary, but for the way it made Link feel. The way it made his throat tighten and itch. The thought that this was put here because it was meant to be his home.

And so much more. So many things he couldn't even remember the uses for. So many bits and pieces that slot together into the jumbled mess that is a home. It was more than he had the heart to acknowledge without weeping.

Noticing his brewing turmoil, the blue woman spoke. "Perhaps a bath and bed before we speak of business. AM said you may be tired when you arrived."

Link nodded, unwilling to speak and risk his voice breaking entirely. Instead he allowed himself to be led to the washroom, holding back tears when he found bottles of sweet smelling soaps and hair cleansers on a small table beside a stool above a drain. A tub beside it all, shaped like a bowl but with a drain at the bottom and a water spout at the rim.

He looked to the blue woman, overwhelmed and dazed by the strength of his emotions.

Something in her softened at his lost expression. "Let me bath you, Master Link." She said, keeping her voice even, though her dark eyes were gentle. "Just until you learn how to do it yourself."

Link nodded. Quiet and trusting in his vulnerability.

She helped him undress. She made him sit on the stool as she gathered what she needed.

Her hands were so, so gentle as they brought a warm, wet towel over his dirtied, battered skin.

He nearly fell into a doze twice as she washed his hair three times until the suds came off white. He was only minimally aware of the strong (deceptively strong) hands that helped him into the tub. He nearly slumped into the side of the bowl, body completely lax within the warm, welcoming water.

He opened his eyes from one blink to the next and blankets (thick and soft, smelling of fresh soaps and linen) were being drawn over his shoulders. The pillow beneath him gave under the weight of his head, as did the mattress he laid upon.

Every part of him felt warm and soft and safe. He smelt like flowers and sweet nuts, his skin felt clean and supple under the tender caress of his nightclothes. The further dimming lights eased him further down into slumber.

"Rest well, Master Link. I will guard you as you sleep."

Link couldn't even bring himself to respond, lost as he was to the call to nothingness.

He was lost not long after.

"One day." The blue woman said softly, sitting beside the unconscious man with an amused smile. "I will teach you to identify sleeping oils before they reach you. But not tonight. For tonight you sleep. Tomorrow, you will learn to be wary."

She wiped her delicate finger tips across his relaxed forehead, a slight sheen left in their wake.

"Sweet dreams, Courageous One."

---

Link,

I apologize that I could not be there to greet you properly. However, after careful consideration I decided it would be safest for our paths to remain separate at this time.

Herein this text, you will find all relevant information I've amassed over the years regarding our world and the dangers within it. Including, but not limited to, the continued threat of the Yiga clan.

May you never have to make use of the less savory of this knowledge.

Yours truly,

---

To the shadows I return.

#botw link #isekai reader #link x reader #link x you #botw x reader

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undercoveravenger · 6 months

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Venomous

Pairing: Venom!Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “venom!Billy Hargrove confusing reader (dressed as spiderman for Halloween) as actual spiderman!Steve and going after him. take it however you want to”

A/N: Happy Halloween! Here’s part 2 of your Halloween surprise (I really like this AU by the way- if anyone wants anything else in this au, please feel free to request it!)

-----

The streets of Hawkins were practically empty this late at night, especially with pretty much everyone either asleep or at one of the dozens of Halloween parties raging on across the city. Hell, you were just coming from one that Tommy H and Carol had put on and Steve had dragged you to. You’d put up with about two hours of costumed young adults dancing and partying around you before you finally managed to make your escape, the cold autumn air chilling you through the thin spandex of your cheap Spider-Man costume as you wandered down the abandoned streets in the direction of your home.

The normal sounds of the city echoed around you, distant car horns and alley cats rustling through trash and music pouring through the doors of packed clubs. Tall buildings rise on either side of you as you turn down an alleyway that you’ve used as a shortcut a million times, but today you aren’t as vigilant as you normally are, not with the slow buzz of alcohol in your veins and the edges of the eye-holes of the mask limiting your vision.

That’s probably why you’re so knocked off guard when something slams into you with all the force of a semi-truck, brick fracturing around you as you’re thrown up against the wall of some long-closed business. “Gotcha now, Spider-Man,” a massive fanged maw snarls, wide white eyes narrowing as an alien face looms before you, “And there’s no getting away from me this time.” A huge dark hand curls around your throat, the flesh shifting and flexing and crawling against your skin in a way that was certainly not human. “Today, Spider-Man, you die.”

As it speaks, you realize what must’ve happened. That this creature - Venom if you remembered the headlines of the trashy newspapers correctly - must’ve seen you walking home in your costume and mistaken you for the real hero of Hawkins. With the darkness blurring the poor quality of your suit, you must’ve looked enough like the real deal with your mask on for one of the vigilante’s foes to target you.

You squirm, trying in vain to get yourself even a fraction of breathing room only for the viscous material of Venom’s hand to follow you, keeping the pressure constant and unyielding. The edge of your vision has started going dark by the time you manage to sputter out a weak, “‘M not him-” you fight for every ragged gasp of air, “Not Spider-Man.”

Venom hesitates at that, grip loosening just enough for breathing to come easier. His head cocks to the side as he examines you, seeming to only now notice the differences between your build and Spider-Man’s - your height, your physique, everything that sets you apart from the hero he had been looking for. His hand moves then, catching against the edge of your mask and tugging it up and off then. Venom’s eyes widen as he sees you without your mask and you can’t quite tell what he is thinking before he drops you, hands flying away from where they’d been touching you as though he’d been burned.

You’re left reeling, chest heaving as you scramble to catch your breath, the towering alien pacing wildly before you. You can catch snippets of conversation, bits of growled words in Venom’s harsh tone met with something quieter, smooth and honeyed and just a little familiar. Eventually you’re able to push yourself back to your feet and you start to edge back down the alley the way you’d come, feet scuffling quietly over gravel and debris. You are almost convinced that you’ll be able to get away before a piece of glass shatters under your shoe and the hulking creature whips around to face you, wide white eyes narrowing to almost slits as he stalks toward you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Venom snarls, hand jerking forward to grab at you, only to freeze before he could touch you, like he was unable to actually touch you. You watch the oozy substance of his face waver before you, parting and falling away to reveal a face you recognize.

You’d seen Venom’s true face before- in class watching you from across the room. Studying you from the opposing team when your gym class was broken up for basketball. Looking up from his place across from your best friend, fists bruised and bloodied from splitting Steve’s lip and darkening his eyes. Between throngs of drunken and dancing people, alluring blue eyes never faltering from where they met yours, intent and fixated from where he was watching you, lips moving faintly like he was having a conversation you couldn’t hear. And now, as you’re putting together the pieces of Billy Hargrove’s secret identity, you realize that maybe he was. Maybe Venom had known just as much who you were as he had known of his enemy in Spider-Man.

The look in Billy’s eyes isn’t aggressive though, not the way they were when he looked at Steve or his step-sister Max or when someone talked a bit too loudly about Spider-Man’s heroics. His eyes are soft, warmer than you’ve ever seen them as the inky black murk of Venom retreats back into him and he steps toward you. A hand comes up to cup your face as he guides you up to face him. “Quite the costume choice,” he says, lips twisting up into a way you’d come to recognize as sarcastic. “Had both of us fooled for a minute there.”

You struggle around words for a long moment before you manage to speak, “I won’t tell anyone-” you manage to force out. “That you’re-” You swallow sharply, “I won’t say anything.”

Billy laughs and for a second you’re sure you hear an echo. “I know you won’t darlin’,” he drawls, voice like honey and eyes like oceans. “You wouldn’t believe what V thinks about you, y’know?” He snickers a little, pressing forward into your space and crowding you back against the battered brick wall behind you. “I know what I think about you isn’t always fit for polite conversation, but he takes it to an entirely different level. He’s always trying to tempt me into doing something I shouldn’t- something fun. You want to do something fun?” He hums then, ducking forward to nose against your throat and up under your jaw, and you know you should be struggling, pushing him away and running as fast as your feet can carry you, but there had always been something so alluring about Billy Hargrove and to hear that he’d felt the same about you, that the proverbial devil on his shoulder had been tempting him with thoughts about you-

Well, it was certainly an interesting revelation.

Your head tips back against the wall behind you as Billy presses closer, kissing and biting at your neck and jawline. You knew you shouldn’t- not after finding out he was a supervillain certainly, but God, the offer is beyond tempting, especially with Billy so eager against you. Almost without your bidding, your hands come up to clutch at his waist, fingers tucking through the belt loops of his jeans to pull him closer. You tell yourself that this doesn’t have to mean anything- that it doesn’t have to come with strings attached even as you feel the loose ends of the rope pulling taught around you, tying you to Billy and to Venom too. You’re sure that Steve will have a lot to say to you later about your choice in men and how you really shouldn’t make out with his alter-ego’s nemesis in dingy alleys, but with Billy’s mouth pressing aching hungry kisses to yours, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

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ficsofabotchedmind · 3 months

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A day in the life: Larissa’s personal hell

This is an “I think I’m in hell” one-shot. 😁

I think I’m in hell 1 2 3 4

Summary, eheheheheh…no ☺️

Warnings, some: Rabbits blood, talks of knives, torture, poor Larissa is in for it but so is Wednesday, mother daughter dynamics between both Larissa & Wednesday AND Enid & Larissa AND Wednesday & Morticia.

———————————————————————————

Larissa started her day like any other, she woke up and lay in bed for a few minutes contemplating humanity and how utterly fucked it was, she got up and had a good stretch, padded into her kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, fixed breakfast, ate said breakfast and drank said coffee, and went to shower and dress.

Once finished Larissa would exit the apartment that was off to the side of her office and that is where normalcy ended. As Larissa opened the door the next thing she knew, something that was warm, wet, and smelled like copper fell on top of her.

Larissa couldn’t even scream; she was absolutely paralyzed. Looking down, Larissa saw red. Not metaphorical red, but literal red. She also saw the remains of a balloon, a white balloon.

Raising her arm and inhaling, she knew exactly what it was. Blood, someone had filled a white balloon full of blood, snuck into her office, and rigged a mechanism to trigger so as soon as she opened the door, splat.

No, not just someone, Wednesday Friday Addams. Once Larissa got her hands on that child, there will be hell to pay, but in this moment all Larissa could think was, “Fuck me, this is going to be impossible to get out! The whole bloody dress is ruined!”

So, in that moment, Larissa decided to make a statement. She exited her office and made her way to Ophelia Hall, all the way there her stilettos made a splat sound as they hit the floor.

Enid could hear the noise all the way from the room she shared with Wednesday, along with a sharp heel connecting with the floor as harsh and angry steps were taken. All poor Enid could think was, “What did Wednesday do now?” And with that, she let a whine.

Larissa, trekking down the hall and nearing the dorm, met Morticia. Morticia gaped at the tall, blonde, and furious goddess in front of her. Morticia was not thinking pure thoughts at all, her eyes roaming Larissa’s blood-soaked form, tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip.

Biting her lip and smirking, she peered at Larissa through her lashes in obvious arousal, “My, my, my, don’t you look ravishing.”

Larissa, torn between snorting at the raven-haired beauty’s obvious arousal and fuming over the fact a fucking expensive dress was now trash, hummed.

“Morticia,” Larissa spoke, “I love you and I would do anything for you and to you, but not now. I’m off to kill that spawn of yours.”

Morticia couldn’t help but let out an undignified snort, but she quickly composed herself and had the decency to look sheepish.

“My darling Sequoia, there are better ways to get under Wednesdays skin.” Morticia said through a soft smile.

“Oh?” questioned Larissa.

“Issa, I give you full permission to punish Wednesday, as a parental figure, any way you see fit.” Morticia saw the smirk crawling its way up the blood soaked-beauty’s face.

Larissa, feeling her lips curl up into a grinch like smirk, said, “You’re giving me permission to use parental figure status with Wednesday? I can punish her? Ground her? Ultimately, what you’re saying is, I’m another mother for Wednesday and have full access to all parts of the role? And as much as the spawn irritates me sometimes, I wouldn’t harm a hair on her head and I would protect her with my life, again.”

“Yes, all of that. You have my full permission to treat her as your own, when giving trouble and when in need of protection." Morticia said with a soft smile.

Larissa's face turned soft, she gently stepped forward and gave Morticia a dizzying kiss before saying, "Good, now after I'm done, I will call you all to my office but first, I want to make Wednesday skeptical."

All Morticia could do was let a dreamy smile drift across her face, lick her lips, and nod.

With that, Larissa trailed down the hall with a firm smirk etched onto her face and once arrived at the door, she dropped the smirk and knocked, “Girls, may I come in?”

Wednesday, still not looking up from her typewriter, smirked, “Of course.”

The door opened and in stepped Larissa Weems covered from head to toe, in what smelled like to Enid, rabbit blood.

“I would greatly appreciate it if the both of you would come to my office in an hour,” looking towards Enid, “and before you panic my little ray of sunshine, you are not in trouble.” With that, Larissa left with a soft close of the door.

All Wednesday could think was, "Oh fuck."

*An hour later*

Larissa sat smiling at her desk while the two girls sat across from her, "Do you know why I called you in here, girls?"

Enid, while side-eying her girlfriend, said, "Yes, I think I do."

Larissa smiled and looked towards Morticia, "Morticia, would you be so kind as to tell Wednesday what you said to me? And Enid, I want you to witness this.”

Larissa turned back to the girls, looked directly at Wednesday and smirked as Morticia spoke.

After a few minutes of explanation, Wednesday's jaw hung open. This is one of the only times Morticia has seen her daughter like this, she knew what was about to happen and it wouldn't be good, so she said a silent prayer for her girlfriend.

Wednesday collected herself and situated her glare on Weems, "What have you done? What have you DONE? Mother, what is the meaning of this? Is this some kind of cruel joke?"

Morticia sighed while Larissa did nothing to help, all she could do was sit there smirking.

Morticia carefully approached her-their daughter and spoke, "Wednesday, Larissa is now a permanent part of our lives so you will have to get used to Larissa having a say in your life, and that includes taking on the role of another parental figure."

Wednesday's eyes darted between the two women; she was so angry you could practically see steam coming from her ears.

Larissa dropped her smirk, she could see that Wednesday was becoming more strung by the second, "Wednesday, while I admit I take great pleasure in this, it's for two reasons. #1: I can keep you safe and #2: It means that I can make sure you know what you did was wrong and punish you accordingly. I will not abuse this...too much but I will make sure you know that I love you as if you were my flesh and blood."

Wednesday took a minute to process what was said and then spoke, "Who's to say I'm not of your flesh and blood? Mother is so in love with you she could have had Grandmama do a spell because even I admit, I am much like you."

Larissa knew this was an olive branch and took it, she chuckled and said, "I wouldn't put it past your mother."

At that Morticia gave both, a smirking Wednesday, a chuckling Larissa, and a giggling Enid, a look.

Enid deflated at the release of tension and her claws, once again, were sheathed, "I am not going to lie, I thought this would end in disaster. Oh! Mom, is that why we were called in?"

Larissa smirked once again, "Partly but I also want to dish out punishment! Wednesday, you are grounded!"

Before Larissa could finish Wednesday shouted, "What?"

Larissa, used to Wednesday's habits by now, said, "Yes, you are grounded, you ruined a very expensive dress, a carpet, and got rabbit blood along the walls and door. Oh, and partially in my apartment. So that means, no knives, no bombs, no hunting, no investigating, and NO TORTURING PUGSLEY!"

Wednesday's eyes widened and she gritted her teeth but got an idea at the last moment and smirked, "Fine, anything else, FATHER or would you prefer MOMMY?"

Larissa gritted her teeth but before she could say anything Wednesday spoke again, “I have to go back to our dorm room now, I’m grounded. Enid, did you still want to have lunch with your mother?”

Enid, not knowing what to do to calm the situation, said, “Yeah, yeah.” While all she could think in a whiny voice was, “Wednesday, don’t get in more trouble, please.”

Wednesday gave Enid a gentle kiss and walked out but as she stepped out of the door but still in Larissa's line of sight, she smirked and made a 'you're dead' motion.

Larissa knew Wednesday wasn't actually going to kill her...or was she...

Larissa groaned and put her head in her hands, "Fuck, I'm officially in hell."

Morticia chuckled at Larissa and gently rubbed her shoulders while Enid spoke up, "Don't worry, Mom! Wednesday won't actually hurt you...physically."

Larissa whimpered, groaned, and let her head land with a thud on her desk. Both Morticia and Enid winced at the sound and looked towards one another, and a silent look was shared, "She's in for it."

#larissa weems x morticia addams #larissa weems #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #netflix wednesday #wednesday x enid #morticia addams #larissa is enids mom #fight me

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odinsblog · 1 year

Text

Trash talk is a part of most sports, but it’s definitely a part of basketball.

Let’s break it down and get to the point: Angel Reese was humiliating Caitlin Clark. And she made the John Cena gesture at a time when Clark and Iowa had no possibility of winning. This made qwhite a few people mad. The real questions we need to be asking are 1) Why did it make them mad? Because Caitlin was expected to win and had already been dubbed the girl boss darling of the tournament. 2) Why weren’t those same people upset when Caitlin Clark told an opposing player to her face, “You’re down 15 points, shut up!”? Why was it cute “girl boss” when Caitlin was mean and rude to someone else, but it’s “poor sportsmanship” when Angel Reese gave it right back to her?? 3) Why are white people sooo comfortable making up brand new rules that suddenly advantage them but penalize others whenever they aren’t in the winner’s seat??

What all the upset white people are really saying is, Angel Reese did not show Caitlin Clark the “proper” amount of respect. Caitlin was supposed to be the inevitable winner.

And it doesn’t matter if Caitlin did the same thing to others. Because it very specifically burns white people up when a Black woman has the upper hand and isn’t suitably “kind” or not demure enough—even to someone who taunted the Black person first.

And for many of the selectively outraged people, it didn’t begin until Angel Reese did something wrong. That is sO very much like white history in America: ignore everything that happened preceding the event. Ignore or make excuses for everything that happened right up to the point where white people got mad.

The same thing happens every day in schools, politics and workplaces: except we call the double standards and made up rules “professionalism,” and certain white people are allowed to flaunt professionalism and other Black people are not.

Also, people saying this has nothing to do with race are lying. A predominantly Black team beat a predominantly white team. This is 2023 America and racism is alive and well.

Who do you think most of those players on the Iowa team are going to vote for in the next presidential election?

And it bears repeating again: Jill Biden inviting Caitlin Clark and the Iowa team to the White House is thee foulest, most white privileged, All-Lives-Matter kind of bullshit. Everyone is super focused on making sure that the white girl doesn’t feel bad.

Oh, last thing - it’s not against the rules of basketball to follow someone around on the court. Some people call that covering your opponent. If you follow (cover) the wrong person or don’t follow them well enough, ultimately your team loses points and loses the game. Just like Iowa lost. To LSU.

#angel reese #caitlin clark #double standards #racism #professionalism #jill biden

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mo0nlyte · 4 months

Text

What if you just kidnapped adopted an animal?

How would your brothers react?

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE AS YOUR FAMILY LETS GOOOOOO

(I FORGOT, MARTHA IS THE CHICKEN 👆)

(Don't worry, I'll write more later, I'm just lazy and it takes a while for things to flow, you can request stuff if you want👍)

Note:

No animal death! Roadkill mentioned, but not actual descriptions of animals dying of your wondering!

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Drayton

(Raccoon/trash panda)

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Goodness. You are practically begging your older brother day and night. He's getting annoyed. The twins used to do the same thing. Quit givin' him flashbacks of the twins annoying the hell out of him!!

"Sister, Darlin', the only ray of sunshine on this god forsaken farm. Please. We are not getting a dog."

"I don' want a dog! Brother please he's right-"

"For fucks sake I said no!"

"...right outside."

"What?"

Then you showed your lovely little friend. 'Bark'. He was caught in a trap, and had been cowering in fear. All the loud noises scared the poor raccoon kit. Man you definitely scared the crap out of bark at first!..

N' till you fed it. Then he disregarded everything, you where so sweet!

"Kiddo. Please explain how you.. no, don't. I don't even wanna know. Please understand we CAN'T keep it. So don't name-"

"His name is bark."

~Long pause of silence.~

"...yer gonna whine and cry till I say we can keep it, aren't ya?"

"He likes blueberries."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Well, unannounced to you, that's no longer just your raccoon. He grows fond of it. It'll help him collect eggs out of the chicken coop.. it's definitely quite a nice cooking buddy.

Drayton even made him a little hat for Halloween, Drayton had to sew up everyone's clothes every once in a while. You of course helped make the little tie.

Yes, that's right. A little red tie.. and tiny chef hat.

Drayton made sure that little chef hat fit perfectly.

He had help around the kitchen, surprisingly Bark was quite a helpful boy. He would understand the difference between words. Sadly often getting sugar and salt confused, there both white, give him a break.

He doesn't mind Martha, including even stealing an egg for her to try and hatch. And even went outside to steal some berries for her.

Bark was a bit of a thief, sometimes you'd get little presents.. Nubbins knife.. Maybe one of Chop-Top's CDs.. Drayton's favorite ladle.. definitely has stolen knives and other sharp objects for you to use.

Bark was treated like a little prince, being snuck little food scraps.. either from you or Drayton. And it sure didn't mind eating human, heck. When you got a bit older, he screeched when someone got inside the house.. 'How dare they get inside the house!! Who the fuck are you! FUCKING OUT YOU- oh hi Chop-Top!!' kind of attitude.

Have you thought about putting him in a show about raccoon cooking? Yes.

Was it made up by you?

Yes.

Will you admit that? Probably not.

Of course, you see Bark as not only your best friend, but your pet.. you both get in trouble equally.

Bark was definitely part of the family now, the most protected 'coon in all of Texas.

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Chop-Top & Nubbins

(Coyote.. except there's 4.)

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Well. Their plans where definitely.. cut short? No ruined in all honesty. You where outside at 2 am, feeding your new friends. Your new dogs.

..You mistook them as dogs.

Or maybe you refused to think they where anything else.. I mean they where so friendly!

You named them already. Josie, Cutler, Terry, and Michael. You know Josie has a cut in her ear, and Cutler had strawberry blonde fur, and white paws. Terry was the definition of midnight. You could only see his eyes. And Michael was named Michael because of those.. black beady eyes. How cute.

..Who would've guessed they eat human. Scavengers to the fullest.

Meanwhile, Chop-Top and Nubbins where planning to sneak out, probably to go mess some shit up, and make someone's day tomorrow horrible. By accident they caught you taking care of your four.. dogs. Oops?

"W-what the ff-uck are you doing up at t-two am?!" Nubbins said, half-yelling half-whispering.

"Uh.. well.. uhm.." you said quietly. the coyotes began growling. They haven't met the twins or any of your family yet.

Chop-Top immediately tried to get to you, thinking the coyotes where growling at you. Cutler snapped at him.

Chop-Top grabbed the coyote by the scruff of its neck.. you calmed down Josie, Terry, and Michael. And immediately grabbed Cutler out of Chop-Top's hands!

"The hell?! It was growlin' at you! What the fuck are ya doin'?" Chop-Top said.. man if the commotion didn't wake up Drayton, the yelling would.

"Cutler wasn't growling at me! They're not used to you guys.. this is why I feed em' in the mornin'..

"Y-.. you w-what. How l-l-long have ya been d-doin' this?!"

Nubbins was extremely confused, wouldn't they have realized this by now? They're pretty damn smart.. then again they did eat tide pods as a kid so.

"Well, Terry was first, than Cutler, then Michael, than Josie, and I think-"

"Ya fuckin' named em?" Chop-Top said, almost confused. There where 4, how could you remember all of them? "A-and how long have you b-been f-f-feeding them?!" Nubbins said after a second..

'Jeez, gimme time to answer'.. ya thought.

After a moment of calming down the coyotes, you said, "Well.. It's been a few months.. and I did name them. ~You explained how you told them apart.~ and I feed them because they gimme little things!"

You showed the twins your other bracelet. You had two, one you and your family shared, the teeth bracelet Nubbins made everyone, and your other one, it was old, and had little feathers, beads, some string, and a few other things on it.

"Ya realize Drayton is gonna have your ass- ~Nubbins elbowed him really hard, they are trying to curse less, plus having a baby sister made them all sort of realize they need to have a less "fuck around and find out" attitude.. you where their only sister.~ I mean.. your gonna get in trouble when Drayton finds out."

"If he finds out."

Yep, definitely their sister.

"What? What do you mean 'if'?"

"If. If he finds out."

The twins kind of stare at ya. Wow. You take after them a scary amount.. That's a bad thing. At least for Drayton.

Immediately you pull them over to the spot under your window, which is where your coyotes decides to mostly hide off too.. you had put a bunch of brush in the way to hide them. You kept showing them your coyotes.. Josie really liked Chop-Top! And Michael really liked Nubbins! Of course Terry and Cutler were not as happy that the twins are well. Your brothers.

But they still didn't bite them. The twins shared all the times they captured animals.. and tried to keep them as pets. Surprisingly only 2 out of the 9 died of starvation. Drayton had made them take the animals back out.. but the twins were going to keep these coyotes.

If that includes getting hit with a broom, or depending potentially shot, so fucking be it. Granted they won't get shot, Drayton loves them even if he hates them at the same time. But your partly the unspoken favorite like Bubba.

In the morning, well. Shit. Shit indeed. Drayton was pissed. Obviously.

Too bad, ya are keepin' the coyotes.

And he of course asks how you'll feed them..

You take them to the barn you are pulling your older brother along sort of forcefully, to show that they'll follow you anywhere.. and come out with an arm, and fucking YEET that shit across the yard.

(Excuse my 2018 language)

And everycoyote went after it! Josie needed some assurance that yes, you can go get it, but they did! And man! Did they tear that arm up. They where scavengers, they were hungry. And they brought you back the simi-clean bone.

Bubba was honestly giddy about the whole situation, signing "They are just like dogs"

You got to go to town that day! The coyotes stayed in the bed of the truck, and sat peacefully. You got them all collars.. and food bowls.

The twins got to help pick out the tags for them! You picked out a star for Terry, a heart for Michael, and the twins picked a flower shape for Cutler, and a plain circle for Josie. Cutler got a dark blue color, Josie got a pink color, Michael got red, and Terry got green.

It was a nice day. And an even nicer day when you got back to the farm, to show you can practically sick your little puppers on victims.

Nubbins favorite picture is still you, his twin, Drayton, Bubba, and the puppers over a freshly dead body, laughing as the coyotes destroy the victims face.

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Bubba

(He signs, I just make it dramatic)

(Snake)

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You'd think he had a heart attack when you came in with your snake.

No no, it's not that's it is a snake.

The problem is that it's a cottonmouth.

Wrapped around your throat.

After a moment you heard thundering steps you guessed it was either a REALLY pissed off Drayton', or one happy Bubba. Ya hoped it was the second one. He ran up to you signing quickly. Almost too quick to understand.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to pull it off?! Why do you even have it?!"

You couldn't make out the 17 other questions.

"No, no, Snappy isn't choking me, he's actually quite sweet!"

Spoiler, you've taken care of this snake for 3 or 4 weeks. Naming him included. You thought Snappy was a good name because of how he would snap at you when he first saw you.

"You named it? Why? Why is it wrapped around your throat?"

"Because he got tired, and I move a lot faster than him. Plus I wanted to get him some water."

"What"

His confusion is obviously known, and a bit funny. You explained you found Snappy trapped and almost being eaten by a few owls. Those owls became lovely stuffing for pillows, and now you have a cottonmouth that won't leave you alone.

Bubba did not trust this snake whatsoever. What if it hurts you? It's a snake. He literally had to throw them across the yard like a bad Frisbee.

Snappy liked him tho! Throughout the day Bubba tried to stand near and close to you. Snappy kept thinking that was an invitation to keep trying to crawl on his shoulder.

Haha. No.

He was holding himself from throwing it. Technically everyone was. Especially Chop-Top. Man he hated snakes. Especially after time in Vietnam.

Drayton said it wasn't allowed on the floor, near any food, and nowhere near Grandpa. And especially not anywhere it can cause trouble!

Nubbins was indifferent. It's. A snake. Yippers.

Get it far away from him this instant.

Chop-Top was 🤏 close to finding a new creative way to plan a snakes murder.

Grandpa used to have to deal with snakes all the time, he ain't excited. As long as you're happy tho.

Throughout the next few days it kept slithering towards Bubba. Snappy really likes Bubba in general.

You are so lucky he's your brother. He would've killed it by now if not. Snappy and Bubba got along better after a while.. Snappy was a nice company while chopping up bodies.

It's not like you had too many people to scare with your new snake. Snappy really likes human tho. You had a few bites on your arms, not deep, but the poor boy accidentally did bite a bit hard. Ya should've fed him breakfast!!

Bubba wasn't always within your vision.. none of your brothers were. You often fend for yourself, it ain't too hard, if ya need food ya just go inside and take whatever is in the fridge.

So having a friend was nice, And Snappy loves you, otherwise he would've bitten you and your brothers in their sleep.

That would be a lovely lecture in hell as you get bitched out by Drayton for letting Snappy bite everyone >:(

So you may or may not have gotten him a cage- well sort of. Kennel. One of the old ones in the house when you guys used to have a dog.

Snappy acted like a dog, tail wagging included.

(more like half of his lower body?)

Your brothers were a little worried that your lack of human interaction was taking a toll on you, you already talked to yourself a lot.. and sometimes accidentally answered yourself! And now they can't tell if you're talking to Snappy, or yourself.

Drayton and Bubba, heck even the twins surprisingly were able to teach you some things,

Usually you'd rather run around and help around the farm, not learn. Cannibal children are feral, ya can't do much to keep them contained.

They are lucky they scared you enough to wear shoes! You didn't want to step on a scorpion.

With the few things they taught you, you made many hats for your snake. Snappy wore each one with pride.

Your favorite is the little plushy knife Bubba helped you make for Snappy. Snappy indeed loves it too!

Everyone slowly warmed up to Snappy. Including Bubba. Who now carried him around like a little ball of spaghetti.

He secretly fed him scraps off of the butchering table.

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Bonus:

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Grandpa

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Nope, get it out of the house.

No butts, get that ------ out of the house now.

Don't make him get your older brothers.

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The END WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TOOK ME TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS

Am I proud of it? Yep

Am I sad I lost all my ideas for Drayton? Yes.

Thank you for reading regardless! <3

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #chop top sawyer #drayton sawyer #nubbins sawyer #bubba sawyer #Tcmwriting #the hitchhiker #the cook #leatherface #robert sawyer #tcm nubbins #tcm drayton #grandpa sawyer

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skyfall8600 · 2 years

Text

Pretty Hero

Pair: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, R18+, minors do not read!

This is my first ever smutty fanfic so bear with me…. Had to create a little more story before we get into the good part. Maybe the smut will come in part 2 depending on how well this one does.

Part 2 out now!!!!!!

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You got dragged into it, unsure how it all happened. Hanging back after hours at the school, when you heard screaming and a crashing sound.

You followed where it came from, momentarily pausing to unlock your pocket knife you had stashed. You grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and therefore learnt to defend yourself at an early age, weapons included.

You saw Jason punching and kicking someone on the floor, they were utterly defenceless.

“Hey!” You screamed, Jason turned slightly to look over his shoulders.

“Fuck off sweatheart, this doesn’t concern you.” He spat at you.

Men have spoken to you like you’re trash your entire life. And you were yet to let them get away with it.

You waited for Jason to direct his attention back to the person on the floor. He lifted his foot and you seized the opportunity to shove him to the ground, forcing him to lose his balance.

You crouched down, your feet clamping his head to the floor. Your knife held out to his throat.

“I suggest you go back to daddy before I scar that pretty face, hmm?” You whisper. “Guys like you are the scum of the earth.”

You gave him one final blow to his abdomen, scurrying past him to help his poor victim to their feet. You thought it would be a freshman, a small little nerd…. But the body was a lot heavier than you expected.

“Munson?” Your voice broke. He groaned, leaning on you with the least amount of his body weight that he could manage. He tried talking but blood continued to come out. “Hey, hey… it’s ok. Come on, let’s get you to the hospital. Do you think you can walk to my car?”

He nodded, hoping on one foot to avoid putting too much pressure on the other. “Th-than-“

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be ok.” You said, trying to get him to not worry about talking.

Thankfully your car was relatively close to the entrance. Somehow, Jason took another exit and was already speeding off in his car.

“Fucking prick.” You mumbled as you helped Eddie into the car. “Try not to bleed to much on my seats yeah?”

You swore you saw him smile, only for the pain to take control of his face again.

Driving like a maniac to the local hospital, Eddie was getting checked out by the doctors in no time. You don’t know what made you stay, you waited there for him for hours.

“Relation to the patient?” The doctor asked you. Your blood shot eyes could hardly focus on him, in his white lab coat.

“I- I brought him in.” You answered.

One of the nurses whispered in his eye, giving you a small smile afterwards. “Right this way, Ms. Y/l/n. Your lucky you brought him in when you did, we were able to stop most of the internal bleeding.”

You followed the doctor down the halls, but you tried to follow the line of site of the nurse, wanting to know what she said to him.

“Is he okay? You know, all things considered?”

“He’ll be able to leave in a few days, but he’ll have to take it easy for the next few weeks if not a few months.” The doctor took the clipboard off from the wall next to a door further down the corridor.

You paused, unsure of what to do.

“You may go and see him now.” He said, no emotion in his voice.

You found Eddie hidden behind a white curtain, his face swollen and bruised; a cast on his left leg and bandages covering his ribs. Your eyes drifted to the naked skin along his chest and arms, taking in all the toned muscles and contrast between the dark tattoos and his pale skin.

“There’s my hero.” He spoke, his voice breaking with each syllable.

“Hey, I um…. Just wanted to check on you before I left.” You admitted, pacing yourself next to the end of his bed.

He nodded, his fingers tapping at the drip connected to his arm. “Just peachy.” He looked into your eyes with a dreamy expression.

Your mouth fell open, “I hope this wasn’t all some big plan for you to get drugs, Munson.”

His exaggerated reaction of shock fell over him, “I can’t believe you’d suggest that…. Me of all people? Please-“

You laughed at him, clearly observing him in a moment of poor judgment in his drugged haze.

“You sound so pretty,” he said.

“You sound drugged.”

“I am. Shh. I’m afraid if the nurses see I like it they might take it away, one of them told me my girlfriend was here.”

Girlfriend?

Your smile fell and you pressed your lips together. “Is that so? Do you want me to get her?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, well… to the best he could with the stitches in place. “Get who?”

“Your girlfriend?”

He gasped, “are you offering to be my girlfriend?”

You blushed, shaking your head. “How about I come back when your a bit more here mentally ok?”

He pouted. “Your leaving already? Do I get a kiss from the pretty hero?”

You leaned forward and placed a kiss to his hand, trying to avoid the bruised knuckles. “I’ll be back this afternoon. You know, although we don’t really speak much, I look forward getting to know you Munson.”

He hummed a response, clearly too far gone to take in all your life words at once.

You drove home, forcing yourself to stick to your route and not make a detour. Fate, unfortunately had other plans. It was still early morning and no one in the inner parts of town was awake yet.

Driving down the streets, you noticed a certain car parked half on the curb and the street. Taking a quick look around to make sure you weren’t being watched, you slipped out of your car quickly with your knife in hand. Puncturing a hole in 3 of the tires and leaving a nice large drawing of male genitalia on the main drivers side, you were sure Jason was going to wake up to a nice surprise in a few hours.

Time tracked my slowly, you didn’t want to seem too desperate to back to the hospital to see him, but you were worried that maybe him waking up alone wouldn’t be that good either.

With your father passed out on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand, you decided at 1pm that you’d go back and see him.

The same nurse from this morning was at the desk, she smiled when she saw you walk in.

“Hi darling, he’s been asking for you.” She said, her accent a little thick. “Hope you don’t mind me yesterday lying to the doctor, poor boy kept calling you pretty and I had to make sure you’d see him before you left.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Mr Munson? You have a visitor.” She said. Pulling open the door.

The Eddie you left this morning, was not the same one you saw in front of you. Long gone was the bubbly flirty persona, the pain medication all but drained out of him.

He groaned, almost unable to lift up his own head. “Hm?”

“I think it’s starting to catch up with him, just give him some time?” She said, leaving the two of you alone.

Your eyes were starting to fill with tears. “Hi.”

He opened the non-swollen eye, “Y/n? Wh- what are you doing here?”

“I’m the one who brought you in. I told you this morning I’d be back.” You sighed, “I guess you were too drugged up to even notice I was here. If you want me to leave I can.”

“No!- oh fuck!” He hissed, “forgot I can’t move much, shit. But no, no I don’t want you to leave. Actually, do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Do you mean the part of you getting beat up by Jason and I rescued you, or… the part that you were so high off your arse you flirted with me?”

“Both. Definitely both.”

You spent the next 20 minutes telling him everything, you couldn’t help but notice the faint flush come across his face upon learning how bad his flirting was.

“The nurse said you kept talking about me. Calling me pretty. Who knew you’d be so sweet, Munson.”

He avoided your eyes, “I um.. do that a lot when I’m high.”

“Do what? Be all cute and charming?” You giggle.

“Call you pretty.”

Oh. Your face grew hot. Your mouth opened but no words came out.

He swore under his breath, “sorry, I don’t know why I admitted that. Fuck. You probably think I’m a creep-“

“Eddie-“

“You’re just really pretty and I’ve had a crush on you for two years and I’m really embarrassed because you had to save me from getting my arse kicked. I remember parts of it, you with a fucking knife to Jason’s throat… fucking hot and terrifying at the same time and now I won’t stop rambling-“

“Eddie!” You say a bit louder, forcing your hand to cover his mouth. You didn’t press down hard, afraid you might add to his pain. “No need to be embarrassed ok?”

Silence

“Okay?” You repeated, and he nodded. “Good, now I would love for you to take me out some time, once you’re all better of course. How does that sound?”

Releasing your hand, he was stunned. “You…. You wanna go on a date? With me?”

“Yeah. Did you not want to? I thought from your little speech and the way I catch you looking at me at lunch meant that you’d want to.”

He nodded the fasted his injuries could allow. “I really want to.”

Smiling as you leaned to kiss his cheek ever so gently. “Focus on getting better then… oh and one more thing! Your pretty hero also forced Jason to get three new tires and maybe a new paint job on his car, unless he wants to ride around with a penis carved in to his door.”

“I think I love you.” He breathed out, the dreamy look back on his face.

“One step at a time Munson. Don’t cream your pants.”

———————————————————

Tag list: @fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #joseph quinn

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siconetribal · 1 year

Text

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m

Warning: The power of coffee, Jason finally gets his drink, Y/N might strangle someone, poor Y/N

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me. I am excited to finally be able to use them!

If you're new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It all happened so quickly. The flash of white. The clatter of chairs. The sound of a table crashing to the floor. She was on the floor, covered in left over coffee and pastry crumbs, with her a soreness in her lower back and hands from the impact. How was it even possible for him to be here? Here in this coffee shop of all places in the outskirts of Gotham where no one really visits, and the city is trying to gentrify for the rich to come rolling in? Either he was stalking her or this was some sick joke and the universe was mocking her to no end.

And why would he be stalking you? You gave him a nice hotel room to comfortably get ready in, only for him to utterly trash and leave you with a bill that’s worth more than you. Anger burned in her chest at the reminder of what her kindness had led her to. Screw that, I should demand him to pay me! Who does he think he is?! Here I am busting my butt day in and out while he’s walking around without a care in the world buying fancy-shmancy overpriced coffee while running around Gotham breaking idiot-proof instant coffee machines?! Does he think money just falls from the sky? Hotshot rich pretty boy trying to look tough and rugged. She snapped out of her spiraling thoughts from the throbbing ache in her jaw. How tight was she clenching her teeth?

“Are you ok?” The deep voice that haunted her dreams followed soon after, a hand came into her line of sight. Of course, he saw her and her spectacular display of grace. Her anger that was boiling inside her was quickly quelled by the ice-cold bucket of embarrassment that came crashing down on her. How was she going to intimidate him? She was a minimum-waged paycheck-to-paycheck living citizen just barely making ends meet, and she wanted to get him to pay for her? Someone who seems to only see her in humiliating situations and is always trying to help her out? If she took that hand, she knew she would somehow be on the line for something more expensive.

That boy is going to be the death of me. It’s better to just leave it. Who knows what he’ll do if I tell him. I might end up in a loan with interest that even my great grandkids will be trying to pay off. “No, thank you.” She muttered under her breath, lightly pushing his hand aside before pushing herself up off the floor. Keeping her head down, she brushed the crumbs off her stained apron and straightened her shoulders. Turning on her heel, she took a step with confidence. She was not going to be the damsel in distress needing help again. Her heel landed on a puddle of coffee and continued its journey forward. She stared at her foot that was in the air, realizing that she was falling backwards once more.

Oh, for the love of, she braced herself for the second impact and squeezed her eyes shut with her hands extending backwards to catch herself. She waited for pain to shoot up her spine and her hips would be crying. Yes, any second now. Her palms would be slamming into the floor and possibly bruise at the heel. She waited. How long does someone fall for? This is getting a bit ridiculous! She opened her eyes to see was stopped mid-fall. Blinking, she looked left and right to see she was reclined back and meant to be falling, but something was stopping her. “What the?”

“Can’t say I’m not used to women falling for me, but this is a first.” He chuckled, and her heart jumped into her throat. He had saved her again. Her face was on fire as she scrambled out of his arms and carefully stepped around the to be out of his reach. “Hey, are you ok?” He asked again.

“Yeah, fine, thanks.” She pulled her cap lower and tucked her chin to her chest for added measures as she started to pick up the knocked over furniture. She nearly jumped through the roof as his arm came into her periphery as he helped her pick up the heavy table with ease. “You don’t need to do that. You should order.” She deepened her voice and crab-walked around the mess and made sure she remained facing him, as she was to avoid him from seeing her face. When she felt she had gained enough distance, she quickly spun around, gathered her cleaning supplies.

Jason watched the awkward employee move around, obviously avoiding him. He looked down at himself. Do I offend? He wondered, not sure what he had done to get such a bizarre reaction. Normally, women were eager to flirt with him, but she was doing her best to do the exact opposite. She was trying to make sure she was unrecognizable, but the odd behaviors made her more memorable in a way. Frowning, he walked back to the counter, where Citlalli offered him an apologetic smile.

“I am so sorry about that, sir. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded his head, looking himself over once more. “Where was I? Oh, right, the coffee order.” He pulled out his phone again and began swiping through the chat to show her. With him distracted, Y/N turned back around and made sure to stand behind him so only Citlalli could see him. She excitedly waved her hands in the air until her best friend looked up at her.

That is him! He is 4k man! She aggressively pointed at him, glaring daggers and punching at him in the air. Jason felt the burning look and turned, watching Y/N duck her head and do some sort of odd stretch. Seeing no one else looking at him, he shrugged and returned his attention to his phone, and Y/N signaled once more. “He,” she pointed to him as she mouthed the words. “Broke,” she held the mop in both her hands and mimed slamming it down on her thigh. “Coffee,” she pointed to the stain on her apron. “Him!”

“What?” Citlalli mouthed back, her face scrunched in confusion. When Jason had looked up at her apologetically, she quickly put on her customer service face. “Not at all, please take your time, sir.” She assured him. As soon as he was looking at his phone again, she looked up at Y/N who repeated these motions a few times. On the fourth repetition, it dawned on Citlalli what Y/N was trying to say. “Oh, him?!” She mouthed back before eyeing him when a loud cracking sound came from behind Jason. Both of them looked to see Y/N standing there, holding a now broken mop.

Her face paled at what she had done. Their boss was going to really blow his lid now. Looking between the two pieces frantically, Jason turned back to the register. “Is she…alright?”

“Hm?! Oh, uh, yeah. Uhm, well,” Citlalli nervously laughed. “She’s still,” she slowly responded to him as she racked her brain for something to try to salvage the situation without him recognizing Y/N. “Recovering!”

“Recovering?” He raised a brow at her sudden shout of the word.

“Yes, recovering.” she proudly nodded her head. “She’s still recovering from a Joker incident. She’s one of the victims who were exposed to some laughing gas, but it wasn’t too bad in the sense that she was made into a laughing mess. Her mind is still, you know, and doctors have said it’ll take time. Please don’t mind her too much. She’s trying her best.”

“A victim of the Joker, damn, that’s rough.” He muttered under his breath, glancing over his shoulder to see Y/N down on her knees, shoulders shaking a little. He presumed it was her trying to stop herself from laughing, but in actuality she was trying not to cry. “I know how fucked up he can be. Uh, here’s the order.” He showed the phone screen to Citlalli who quickly tapped it into the register along with his regular coffee order.

“Thank you very much for understanding. We’ve had customers who’ve been offended by her.” Not a lie, she’s argued with rude people before. “Will that be all?” She quickly shifted the conversation back to the order, and he shook his head.

“No, that’ll be all. I’ll pay with card.” He pulled out a black plastic rectangle and tapped it against the terminal. “Alright, here is your receipt. Please sign this copy here.” She handed him one sheet and then a pen with another. “Your drinks will be ready at the end of the bar to your right.” She pointed over to the pickup station. “We will call your name out for you, mister,” she glanced down at the receipt and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“Just call for Todd,” he cut her off and pulled out a few high numbered bills and put them in the tip jar. “For you and your co-worker, and a small thanks for not using the name.” He flashed her a grin and waved, heading over to a clean table to wait.

“Oh, of course.” She nodded her head and quickly removed the cash from the tip jar to avoid anyone seeing how much had been put in and possibly cause trouble, and quickly got to making his drinks.

Y/N managed to clean up the mess and the rest of the sitting area after tapping the mop back together with packing tape. She prayed her boss would not be too upset, or perhaps not even notice.

We’ve needed a new mop for a while anyway. Maybe he’ll finally just buy it and not even ask what happened? As soon as she walked back in behind the counter, she felt herself being yanked forward and her forehead nearly collided with Citlalli’s. “Woah, what’s gotten into you?!”

“Are you sure?” Citlalli cut her off.

“Sure of what?”

“Don’t you play with me! Is he really the guy? The one who damaged the room?” She sternly asked, motioning towards Jason, who was patiently waiting for his drinks that were nearly done. Releasing Y/N from her grip, she handed her a cup and motioned to the pot of coffee. “Help me make his drinks while we talk.”

“Why would I not be sure? How many people go around with a voice like that and hair like that? That is him, I swear I’m not mixing things up.” She stressed, confused by her friend’s reaction. “Cici, what’s going on?” She glanced at the order details before making the coffee.

“Well, remember how you said ya might need to work for Bruce Wayne himself to pay it off?” Citlalli glanced at the order list as well.

“Yes, what about it?” She placed the first drink down. “Regular coffee, Todd. Regular coffee for Todd.” She shouted as she walked back over to Citlalli.

“He’s a Wayne boy.” She handed Y/N the receipt as she finished the second drink and brought it to the pickup counter. “Here is your second drink, we’ll be done with the third drink in just a moment.” She smiled at Jason, who was about to come pick up the drink. Nodding his head, he sat back down. Meanwhile, Y/N stood frozen in place. She had was saved by and spent a night in the same room with one of the famous Wayne children. There’s no way! How the hell did I get mixed up with one of them?! How am I supposed to approach him now?! I can’t just demand money, he can just laugh it off and say I’m making it up! This honestly can’t get any worse. She curled up into a ball, holding her head. I made an utter fool of myself just now, he’s definitely not going to believe me. This has to be some sick joke! She wanted to pout and whine, but she was on the clock. And I have a hotel room to pay off. She thought bitterly as she put the receipt in the register drawer before taking the next customer’s order. Cici can make his drinks and he’ll leave. He can leave, and I can stop having terrible luck because of him. She pulled off her hat, tossing into the shelf under the counter. Stalking me, yeah right. Try haunting me.

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txemrn · 1 year

Text

Déjà Vu

Chapter 4

New? Check out the first THREE chapters HERE! (Go ahead; we'll be here. 😉)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake heads to Club Core with Leo; he unexpectedly meets a young woman that reminds him of a past life.

Pairing(s): mention of Liam x Riley; Drake x Riley (former)

Word Count: ~4970

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (tons; it's Drake); sexual references (crude); mention of excessive drinking; drug-use reference; brief violence

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Although this is from my crazy mind, it takes a village! Huge thanks to my sweet writing buddies for helping me figure out various parts! Love y'all! Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

What the fuck was I thinking? I hate large crowds and eardrum-piercing music. I hate being around people who can't hold their liquor, not to mention I hate dancing. But even worse, I hate Leonardo Anselm Phineas Rys. Old thorn in my side. What in the actual fuck made me agree to hang out with blondie in the first place? At a club? On opening night?

Because you're lonely, and he offered free booze…

My twisted expression relaxes as I shrug my shoulders. Meh. I guess it could be worse.

"Okay, baby… I'll be home later… yes… I'll tell Liam you said, 'hello'..." Leo gives an obnoxious kissing sound before disconnecting his call with the touch of a button. He lets out a sigh, taking a hit of his vape pen. "Dahlia," he answers to the question I never asked. He glances at me, sucking in his bottom lip before giving me a slow flutter of a wink. "She's a bit clingy."

I nod, drumming my fingers against the leather interior, playing it cool like I care. "Is… she your–?"

"Friend."

Ah. Okay. 'Friend.' The term just glides off of his tongue. Nonchalant. Sweet and syrupy, almost as if he believes the bullshit he's feeding this poor girl that's waiting at home for him.

And she thinks what now? That he's coming over after an evening with his brother's family which, no doubt, she has never met. And judging by that brief interaction with goldie locks here, she doesn’t seem to have the intellectual capacity to wonder why she wasn't invited to the dinner in the first place.

Side-piece. Booty-call. Friend. It's all just semantics to douchebags like Leo Rys.

I fidget with the navy collar to the button-down shirt Leo loaned me. I could barely fit my broad shoulders into the lean cut of his tailored threads. The guy has a rock hard physique, but tough, manual labor creates a different kind of body. A strong one. Like mine.

The buttons pull slightly across my chest as I flash a glance in the car visor mirror. I look like a fucking tool. I'm not used to my stubble brushing up against starched cotton; I'm usually wearing a tee, my work denim and my steel-toes. I mean, unless I'm meeting with a client or going out to dinner where you have a waiter and utensils. But, other than that, I am a fish out of water: this shirt is uncomfortable. And I have a feeling this is just a prelude of what's to come.

At least Leo approved of my jeans and Tecovas. He tried throwing my trusty chambray shirt in the trash. "No one has worn this for at least twenty years… and they weren't even wearing it then."

Fuck off.

We pull up to this club, and I swear everyone in Cordonia has turned out for this spectacle. The moment Rys steps out of his 'I didn't want anything too flashy' red Ferrari, the paps were on him like white on rice. Flashes of light rain from every direction as reporters flood him with curious questions about his Gucci loafers and gray Brioni blazer.

Lucky for me, I'm a nobody, and the press quickly discovers that the moment I step out onto the red carpet. Dropping their cameras and microphones in disappointment, they instantly turn their attention elsewhere. I don't know if I should be grateful… or offended, to be honest. At least confuse me for Leo's new lover… bunch of dickwads.

I push past the commotion, combing my hair out of my eyes as I look around the red carpet. This place is pretty snazzy, but holy fuck, they didn't spare with any expenses. It’s like a fucking fortress: a tall, wrought iron fence encased with stone surrounds the perimeter. Armed security in black tie a la James Bond swarm the space.

Now, the entrance? This wasn't just any ol’ red carpet; oh, fuck no, that wouldn't do for such a prestigious guest list. Contortionists and acrobats on pedestals perform sultry poses and maneuvers, leaving the crowd bewildered and amazed.

Scantily clad women tend to the average Joe commoners waiting in line. They serve hors d'oeuvres and complimentary spirits, fooling them into thinking they're still important even though they're on the outskirts of the main event, and truth be told: they'll never get in.

Taking it all in, I suddenly feel a massive clap against my back before an arm hugs tightly around my neck.

"Ready, Walker?" Leo pops his gum in between his smarmy grin. "Let's get our dicks wet."

—

Fucking. A. I'm pretty sure I just entered the third level of hell.

"Hey-yo, Walker!"

Make that the fourth level…

I glance back at Rys who is now flocked with an entourage of, and I quote, ‘aspiring models,’ all with their fake tits falling out of their tops, their overly-injected blow-job lips, and lashes so thick, you can't tell if they're sleeping or having a stroke. He flashes those pearly whites as he dangles a small, gram-size plastic bag of white powder.

Now, I'm not against tokin' up or getting obliterated with alcohol, but cocaine isn't my style… not to mention, if we got caught–no doubt, Leo knows people that could bail us out, but if Liam and Riley were to hear about this? They'd kick me to the curb in an instant, especially with their kid around. They’d label me as a bad influence, and Liam would give me that fatherly disappointment glare.

"What do you think, Walker?" Leo nods with eager anticipation. "Wanna join… all of us?" He lets out a knowing laugh, winking at the women around him. They take his cue and begin to giggle, as if he was the funniest, most charming man they've ever met.

And my IQ just dropped two points.

"I think… I'm going to… " I notice a large bar area, quickly throwing a hitched thumb back at it. "...I'll check out the bar,"

"Suit yourself." The women practically swallow him whole with their arms. "Don't forget: give 'em my name. Drinks on me!"

The drove of venereal diseases buzzes off with their king, and a sense of relief washes over me. Would I rather be at home? Absolutely, but since I'm already here…

I make my way toward the crowded bar area, ducking between drunken cat fights and groping couples. Finding a stool, I plant my ass down, and despite how busy it is, the bartender tends to me quickly–probably because I'm a 45- year-old man alone in a club. Translation: I have money, I know what I want, and chances are, what I order doesn't require my rim being bedazzled with seasonings, flowers, or fruit.

"What can I get ya?"

Oh, shit, I haven't heard that distinct nasally Portavira accent in so long. My God…

"Um… Larceny. Neat."

"Double?"

My man… I nod as I watch him pull out the bottle and a clean tumbler.

"Do you have a tab started, sir?"

I reach for my wallet, but I abruptly stop, remembering Leo's words. 'Give 'em my name. Drinks on me!'

"I do. It's under Rys," I smirk, "and actually, do you have Macallan?"

The bartender stops, giving me a glance over when finally a Cheshire grin creeps across his face as if he just struck oil. "We sure do, Mr. Rys." He extends his hand to fist bump me before reaching to the top shelf for a new bottle of the liquid gold. Before I knew it, he's twirling the tumbler across the bar. "Enjoy, Mr. Rys."

Taking a sip, I give him a wink as a thank you as I bask in the much needed woodsy burn of clove on my tongue. Damn, that's tasty.

Feeling more relaxed, I glance out onto the dance floor as other club-goers get lost in the hypnotic buzz of the ethanol electrifying their veins. The tantric beat of the music and the flashing swirl of multicolored lights feeds the adrenaline and raging hormones as people grab and grope one another.

I am way too old for this scene.

I grab my glass to take another pull when out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face at the bar. Turning my head to get a better look, I suddenly swallow my whiskey down the wrong pipe, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs. Smooth, Walker, real smooth.

Blinking back the tears, I sniff into a napkin before looking back at the beautiful face. Shit. She's absolutely…wow. Gorgeous dark, silky waves, porcelain skin, that pouty mouth with those big, doe eyes… She's the spitting image of… Riley.

"Fuck," I growl at myself before rubbing the shit out of my eyes. No way, it can't be. I look up again, and instantly I can feel my jeans begin to tighten.

You're just wanting to see her. You're just wanting it to be her, especially with what happened back at the palace.

I down the rest of my drink before allowing my attention to be completely saturated by this girl.

It's not Riley. It's not…

See? Her nose appears more prominent from the side, and-and her neck. Her neck seems longer, slender. And her eyes. They're gorgeous and big… they aren't Riley's navy blues, but damn, that sparkle–

"Would you like another–?"

"Please," I grumble as I stare at this Riley look-alike. I just… can't tear my eyes away. Her presence feels so real, so intimate. Now, judging from this woman's creamy, velvet skin, she's young. Maybe early 20s. Way out of my league… but still that face. It's like looking into a past life, a life I once loved.

—

(Two decades ago…)

"Brooks," Drake whispers loudly, "come on!"

"Shhhh!" Riley presses a finger to her lips, stifling her giggles as she looks down from her palace window. "Are you trying to wake everyone up? You're going to get me into trouble."

"You are trouble, lady."

Riley looks back at the commoner, the glint of mischief in his eyes making her adrenaline pump faster through her veins. "Now are you sure about this?" She bites her lip, "you'll catch me if–"

"For the hundredth time, yes," Drake rolls his eyes, holding his arms out wide.

Since Drake's confession to Riley at Applewood, the two of them have been enjoying each other's company, especially after hours. They flirt with danger, sharing in kisses that they swear will never happen again for obvious reasons: she is there to pursue Liam and his hand in marriage; Drake is his best friend.

After watching Liam share a kiss with Riley, a dam of excruciating jealousy broke in Drake's heart. He already shared with Riley before that he was developing feelings for her, but now, it was… something else. Something more.

During dinner, the commoner passed her a note, asking her to meet him outside her window after midnight because they needed to talk.

Riley is staying in the guest quarters off the West Wing with the other suitors. She's only on the second floor, but still, a jump from that high could be dangerous. So, Drake helped the brunette construct a climbing rope with her top sheet.

"I've got ya. Just… ease yourself over."

Riley takes one step at a time, following Drake's directions; but when she gets close to the ground, she looks back at Drake, raising an eyebrow, then jumps.

"Whoa!" Drake stumbles as Riley crashes into his chest, his arms quickly cradling her close. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Riley giggles, combing her fingers through Drake's thick hair. "Sometimes a girl just wants to be caught."

Their eyes lock on one another, Drake's hand finding her cheek. He gently rubs his thumb across her soft skin, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into his touch.

"Come with me," he whispers softly while grabbing her hand.

"Wait… I thought we were going to talk–"

"I want to show you something." Riley gives him a curious glare. "It's a surprise," he smirks, pulling her to follow him.

They walk silently, hand-in-hand across the grounds, playfully gazing back-and-forth at one another–that is, until all a sudden a bright flashlight skims over where they are walking.

"Who goes there?" A palace guard bellows.

"Brooks, take off your flip-flops," Drake commands under his breath, watching the guard in the distance.

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me," he squeezes her fingers.

Riley quickly kicks them off, holding them in her hands. "Okay… now what?"

Drake grabs her hand again, his grip tight. "Run!" Giving her a warning tug, they both take off across the wet lawn, Riley following Drake's lead.

"Where… are we… going?" She pants, laughter bubbling from her chest.

"You'll see," Drake chuckles, "but we have to lose Barney Fife first!"

Dodging the glow of the searching lights, Drake and Riley finally make it to a large wall of greenery. Finding an entry, they pass through the walkway and hide behind the vines and leaves.

Drake looks to see if they finally lost the guards, but Riley takes a moment to look around the thicket they just entered.

"Whoa," her eyes widen as she looks at the well-manicured covert. "Where… where are we?"

"It's… a maze. A hedge maze that we used to play in as kids."

"Are you serious?" She meanders down a corridor, looking around a corner. "It's so dark. Did you ever get lost?"

Drake chuckles, reaching into his pocket. "Plenty of times." He saunters closer to Riley, pulling out a flashlight and handing it to her. The air crackles around them as the charm of the blue moon ignites the twinkle in their eyes. Drake lowers his voice into a deep gravel. "Come get lost with me, Riley Brooks."

With that, he smiles and takes off jogging, Riley staying close behind. "Hey, not so fast Drake." She turns a corner and notices his denim shirt discarded on the grass. "You lost your shirt."

"Did I now?" He snickers. "Can you bring it to me?"

Riley scoffs into a giggle as she continues through the maze at the sound of his voice. "Maybe if you'd stop running away–"

"Maybe if you weren't so slow–"

"Hey!" Riley chides, "I just jumped out of a window–" she falls silent as finds Drake's belt tossed on the ground. She collects it in her hand, biting her bottom lip. "Drake?"

"You're getting warm," he teases. Riley stumbles through another corner, turning left, then right. The sounds of her toes in the grass compliment her heavy breathing as she stops again to the cooing of his voice. "Warmer, Brooks."

She continues until suddenly, she notices a warm glow just up ahead. Her steps quicken until finally she reaches a small clearing in the maze that opens to a stunning backdrop of the star-filled sky. Gas-lit sconces illuminate the garden, revealing tapestries of vines and flowers fixed to wooden lattice work amongst the bushes.

"Wow," Riley gasps, her eyes glowing with the wonder all around her. "This is beautiful." She feels Drake's warm touch on her hand, their fingers lacing together.

"Cmon," he tugs on her, "I want to show you something."

"There's more?" She giggles, following his lead. They walk a short, pebbled path until they are standing in front of a large gray-stoned well. Riley presses her fingertips to the cold marbled edges before looking down into the dark abyss. Her eyes shift to Drake, "Is this where you murder me?" He chuckles, shaking his head as she turns back to the well opening. "Hello!" She shouts, the echoes welcoming each other back and forth.

"I'll be honest, Brooks." Riley looks back at Drake. "I'm kinda shocked Liam hasn't already brought you here. It's one of his favorite places to show off in the entire estate."

"Oh," Riley's eyebrows knit together with a pained expression.

"Hey," Drake nudges her playfully. "What's with the long face?"

Riley snickers into a scoff before finally succumbing to tears. "I'm just exhausted," she pulls her hands to her face.

"Brooks," he pulls her into his comforting arms.

"This social season bullshit is just … it's really screwing with my head," she sniffles. "I've never been more insecure in all my life, and what for?" She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, clearing her throat. "I wish I knew where I stood. I wish the competition was over. I wish–"

Drake reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of worn copper coins. He offers them to a confused Riley.

"Pennies?" She sniffles.

"Yeah," he chuckles, "I forgot to get rid of them when we were in New York. They're worthless here. No conversion."

Riley's lips begin to curl. "Then why keep them?"

Drake starts inspecting the coins in his hand, allowing them to softly clang together in his palm. "I read a book once–"

"--picture books don't count as reading."

"Ha. Ha." He smirks, feigning annoyance as he starts to jingle the coins in his hand. "I read that in ancient civilizations, finding random metals was a sign or a blessing from the gods."

"You see them everywhere back home. The streets, sidewalks," she snickers, "a whole cent. How generous of the gods."

"What? A penny isn't enough for you?" Drake playfully growls, slowly leaning closer to Riley. She coyly bats her lashes, a soft titter in her throat. "Here." He puts a coin in her hand.

"What's this for?" Riley studies the trinket.

"For something bigger, citizens would offer the metal back to the gods, like a payment. So they would say a silent prayer, then toss it–"

"--into a well," Riley softly finishes.

Drake nods over his shoulder to the stoned well. "Let's make your wishes count."

One by one, Drake and Riley silently take pennies, casting them into the well with unspoken hopes and dreams until every last coin was gone. Feeling his close proximity, Riley stares up into his dark eyes, getting lost into a charming stillness.

"What did you wish for?" She whispers.

Drake slowly shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He offers a crooked grin. Combing his fingers into Riley's dark, espresso waves, his hand gently grips the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "All my wishes have already come true, Brooks." He closes the space between them, their lips grazing one another. The feather-light touch instantly ignites a hunger, one they both feel and crave. Drake pulls back, chuckling under his breath as he fidgets with the hem of Riley's shirt. "So... why didn't you take off any clothes?"

Riley bites her bottom lip. "Maybe... because... I wanted my wish to come true." She pauses, her fingers tucking into the front pocket of Drake's jeans, pulling his hips flush against hers.

He swallows thickly. "Which is?"

"Take them off for me, Walker."

—

(Present)

Damnit. I adjust myself in my jeans, but my cock always hardens at the memory of Riley and me that night. We fucked. A lot. But that night, our first night together, it was more than just sex. We made love.

I take a swig of my new drink that the bartender must've dropped off while I was taking a stroll down the boulevard of broken dreams when my eyes dart to my Riley look-alike.

And I feel my dick shrink.

She's with someone, some blond tool, probably named Chad, with a tool haircut that shops at Tools-R-Us with a matching trust fund.

I sigh to myself, polishing the rest of my drink before staring at my empty glass.

He is pretty hot; I don't blame her.

I glance at them one more time, kissing my own dirty fantasy away when I notice something odd. His hand is sternly gripped around her wrist, staring at her like she's his next meal.

But her face tells a different story. She seems to be struggling, trying to tear her arm away from him. Those big, doe eyes are panicked, large as table saucers as she frantically looks for help.

I sigh. Goddamnit...

I wipe a napkin across my mouth as I stand, my glare fixed on this commotion transpiring before me. I shrug my shoulders, loosening the tight fabric off my back as I stretch my muscles. Just in case.

I hurry my way through the dense crowd of patrons gathered around the bar. I flex my fingers, bending my wrist as I get closer.

Ah, shit. This is the part I'm bad at. What do I say first? 'Stop that!' No, that's lame. I need something clever, like maybe, 'Is there a problem here?' How about–

My clenched fist meets his jaw, knocking the asshole in one swing into a bartop table before he crashes down onto the floor. He's so disoriented; he's trying to get up, but he keeps slipping on shards of glass, falling back into the pathetic rumple he calls his life.

Fuck. My hand. I know it will hurt like a bitch in a few minutes when my body depletes of adrenaline, but for right now, I'm basking in the moment.

A smirk grows on my mouth, but it doesn't last for long. The young woman. I turn to the Riley look-alike, her terrified stare already fixed on me. Instinctively, I carefully put my hand on her shoulder. She's shaking.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you alright?"

Ho.ly. Fuuuuuuck.

Brooks? Seeing her up close is almost painful; I can feel my balls beginning to ache. This woman is hauntingly stunning: the subtle freckles on her nose, the curve of the bow to her top lip, even the flounce of her long, flirty eyelashes. She's beautiful; she's… like somebody I used to know…

The young woman shyly nods, but she's trembling. She's clearly not alright.

And I suddenly possess this overwhelming need to take her in my arms, hold her tight and let her know she's safe.

Calm down, Walker.

"Let's get you away from this." I look up, noticing an open lounge-type area near the dance floor with large, plush couches. Offering my arm, she holds on tightly as we escape through the debris of the nightmare that just happened. Placing a reassuring hand on her back, I encourage her to sit.

I, on the other hand, keep an eye on douche canoe who is being helped up by security and his friends. But, I don't think he'll be a problem for us anymore tonight. He never got a good look at me, and even if he had, something tells me his ego would keep him away from telling the truth of who made him taste his own blood.

Turning towards the young woman, I notice she is anxiously looking around, her body on edge. I tilt myself to her ear, shouting over the blaring music, "Are you here with anyone?"

She nods, "B-but it's okay," she yells back, waving her hands. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

She fakes a smile, and my God, it knocks me back. Stunning.

Focus on her words, Walker...

"I don't exactly want to…"

I don't quite understand the rest of her statement, her words lost in the heavy beat of the music. I give her an inquisitive look, causing her to careen towards my ear, her hand brushing across my shoulder.

And my cock twitches. Breathe, buddy…

"I said… I don't want to interrupt their fun." She motions aimlessly to the dance floor. Got it.

"Can I call someone for you? Family perhaps?"

Her eyes widen. "What? No, no."

She grins, but it's clearly hiding her true feelings. Which is fine. I'm a complete stranger. Shit, she probably thinks I'm some creepy old man, hitting on her at the bar. And sure, maybe on a night where she wasn't assaulted, maybe I would've bought her a drink, asked for her number.

But the fact of the matter is this: I really don't feel comfortable leaving this girl alone. She just got into a physical altercation with… whoever that guy was. Her boyfriend? Oh shit, husband? I look at her hand; I don't see a ring, but that doesn't mean anything. You never know these days. Still, she doesn't need to be by herself right now. She really doesn't need to be here, but again, who am I but another creep at the bar.

I run my fingers through my hair. Oh, what the hell. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

A hint of fear crosses her expression as she looks me over.

I hold up my hands in defense before leaning over her shoulder. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone in a place like this," I shout, "especially with what happened with your boyfriend."

She takes a deep breath. She flashes those big, brown eyes at me before finally nodding in agreement.

And my heart melts.

I offer my hand. "Drake."

The corners of her lips curl as she takes my hand, leaning towards my ear. "Jake?" She yells.

I shake my head, facing her ear more directly. "Drake!" I holler over the deep thrumming of the bass.

She raises an eyebrow. "Jake?"

Eh, close enough. I smile in agreement.

"I'm Nora," she smiles, already more relaxed.

"Nora?" I repeat, ensuring I heard her correctly. At least one of us should be called by our real names this evening.

She nods innocently, a beautiful rosy pink painting her cheeks. "Oh, and, um… he's not my boyfriend." A piece of her hair falls like liquid silk into her eyes as she looks down at her lap. She quickly shoos the wisp away, chasing it behind her ear before looking back at me, trying to figure out my angle. Am I here to hurt her? Flirt with her? Invite her home for a messy, drunken fuck?

Don't worry, sweetie, you're safe with me.

"American?"

She catches me off guard with that one. "Uh, yeah. How did you–?"

She points to her mouth, her lips perfectly rounded and plump, painted a deep crimson. Oh, duh. My watered-down accent. Toto, we're not in Texas anymore. It's hard to believe that at one point in my life, I actually sounded like these people. Every once in a while, the Cordonian beast pounces, but these days, I sound like the typical American mutt.

"Are you on vacation?" Nora asks.

I smirk, shaking my head. "I… moved here for work."

"To Cordonia?" She snickers. "Of all places?"

"Fair," I chuckle under my breath as I feel the heat rise up my neck. "I… grew up here, so I have… connections, friends and family. It makes for an easy transition. How about you?"

Her eyes brighten, like a pageant contestant being asked about world peace. "Cordonian. Born and raised."

"That's unfortunate," I joke. Sorta.

"Hey," she giggles, scrunching up her nose playfully. She swats the back of her hand against my shoulder. The touch sends a shockwave of familiarity, robbing me of my breath. "I love Cordonia–"

"Spoken like a true Cordonian."

"And… what's wrong with that?"

Drake guffaws. "What isn't wrong with that?"

"Your tone is suggesting that there's something wrong with having pride in your country–"

"It's egotistical–"

"The only thing egotistical is thinking that your opinion about Cordonia is the only opinion to be had." She furrows her brows. "If you hate it so much, why did you come back?"

Shit. She's feisty. And this conversation has gone completely off the rails. I can't tell if she's really pissed… or if I'm just really turned on and wanting a sparring match.

Fuck. You just had to be a jackass…

"Okay, truth?" I offer, even though I'm sure she wants to toss a drink in my face at this point.

She turns to face me, tucking her leg underneath her. "Please."

"I had a rough time fitting in here. Except for my best friend. He's–" I grin thinking about Liam and I, growing up together, how perfect and inseparable we were. "--as Cordonian as you can get. Well, except… I mean, his mom… nevermind," I shake my head. "He's the nicest person I've ever met in my life. I needed some help after a bad business deal, and… he was there and… now I'm here."

"Huh." She sits back, crossing her arms as she takes me in. She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling. She's clearly unsure of me, and I don't blame her.

"Drinks?" A cocktail waitress dressed in a skimpy, leather skirt interrupts us.

Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I turn to Nora. I have a feeling that this might be the end of the night for us, especially if I don't offer her a cocktail.

I stare at the sparkling flecks of bronze in her eyes. There's something about this girl, more than just the memories she stirs up in me. I can't explain it… shit, then again, maybe I'm fooling myself, wanting something to be there that never was. Still… I clear my throat… you never know unless you try.

"Would… you like one? A drink?"

She narrows her eyes in thought… and fucking hell, she's so goddamn beautiful. Like Riley incarnate. The mannerisms, some of her expressions. Watching her literally robs me of speech and air, and I am dying to spend more time with her. Hell, who knows where the night will take us.

I really hope she agrees to this drink. I can tell I haven't exactly won her over in the past twenty minutes, but if she would just agree to one more drink, just a few more minutes with me, maybe history could repeat itself. Maybe I could experience the woman of my dreams in a different way. Now, I could never tell Nora this; she could never find out. I mean, I am attracted to her, it's just…

"Sure," Nora interrupts my thoughts, her lips curling. "I'll take a drink."

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices trr #choices trh #princess eleanor #drake walker #riley brooks #liam rys #crack fic

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femboty2k · 4 months

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is it weird to feel like you're living in the corpse of the world you grew up in? I know nostalgia is a slow and insidious killer if left unchecked, but just, let me try and describe this. I was born in 1998, I grew up through the 2000s and 2010s, particularly in the tech/video game spaces (go figure) and it feels like everything I used to know is just, dead now. My life used to be filled with how wondrous and new technology could be. Things had weight and worked with all sorts of wires and metal parts. Even the cheap things still felt like they were a part of it. It really felt like you were a part of something special when your hobby was computers. But I don't know about now. I don't just want to be sad about it all the time. I know that in the right places those bustling tech avenues from a time when the web was a place and not a monolith, and computers were appliances and not our entire lives, I know those still exist. But theyre so tucked away. So hidden under mountains of consumerist trash full of bad plastic and bad user design and no user fixability and just, I don't know. All the hobby shops had to close, or raise their prices so high they might has well have. All the old video games are owned by youtubers and techies that rip the consoles apart to make ANOTHER backlit LED button gameboy advanced that they dont play. The world I knew so fondly has been hollowed out and is now worn by black suits and minimalistic white and grey squares with rounded edges. I just, get sad sometimes. I feel like I was too young to have truly been a part of it, but I might also be too old to try and get into it now. Or at least too poor. I miss it. I miss those off whites and beiges, compressed audtio 480p video please insert disc 2 "why did the developers spend so much time on the UI and menus". I miss it so much sometimes. Everything feels the same now. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I should get into linux or something. I don't know.

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mrsq8geek · 2 months

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Ramadan Challenge 2024, Day 3

Day 3: What is your favorite act of worship? Has it always been your favorite?

Fasting tatawu' and sadaqa, hands down.

I love the personal quality of volunteering to fast extra days. Fasting Ramadan is already plenty blessed, but from a young age I especially liked the various hadiths about fasting additional days, be it Mondays & Thursdays or the three white days. Fast three days a month and you've fasted the whole year? Yes please!?

A lot of worship is symbolic and not really about what you're doing, but about everything else around it, and to me, volunteering to fast is like that. It's not going through the motions, it's the intention, which is really what counts anyway. Alhamdulillah I'm grateful I got to fast a lot when I was younger, because things have gotten a lot harder post-covid. I'm hopeful we'll swing back around and I'll get to do it again.

As for sadaqa… again this is personal to me, I grew up very aware that people are in different socioeconomic classes. Some of my cousins were kids of actual millionaires, with diamond-encrusted watches as teenagers, while others were living six people in a backyard trailer, and everything in between. I grew up as something I came to call "fake poor"-- we weren't really poor, but my foundational years were during a rough few years, for a bunch of legitimate reasons, so I lived "poor" for the main part of my childhood. Our situation got better when I was in high school, but when you grow up poor (or thinking you're poor because you don’t know any better), that gets ingrained in you.

These two ayas are the reason I started giving sadaqa as soon as I had my own salary. Because I was very aware of what it was like to have or not have the money you need to do things for yourself, and I'd seen a range of examples in my family. Whatever I saved was precious to me, which is exactly why it's meaningful for me to give from that.

We have a local saying that goes "money is the filth of dunya" and that's even more reason to take out that trash!

Similarly since covid, things have become quite tight financially, so now that's how we've been living. I'm used to tightening the belt, but the difference between now and my childhood is now I'm the one making the financial decisions. And when things are this hard, you find out who you can really trust. People who I thought I could rely on turned out to be, well, allahuma inni saima. Others surprised me with their kindness and generosity.

When I was giving sadaqa when I was younger, I didn't have in mind some kind of karmic quid pro quo. But being on the receiving end now, I believe even more that the system works. Every little bit really does help.

Even clicks.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 4

#ramadanchallenge2024 #notetaeker #today was a pretty good day #ended up writing this after futoor and coffee #i love you coffee #getting used to the steady pace of ramadan #delayed sleep phase disorder #not right now #everyone else is up at night too #it's beautiful #i love it

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tiny-elf-of-doom · 11 months

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Resident Evil: Merchant x Leon

Part 2! Another thanks to @x4ver1a look out for the final part!

18+ 🔞 MDNI

Just as Leon had promised himself, he ended up taking a day of rest with Chinese takeout and the brilliant work of Dan O’ Bannon. His jeans were getting on his nerves, so he ditched them before settling into a cozy blanket. The film “Alien” had been a bit nostalgic for him since it was his favorite movie to watch after school as a teenager. The xenomorphs, that chest burst sequence, and Ripley’s tiny undies were his way out of using a Playboy magazine for personal matters. And it was all made better with his meal. Sometimes, sacred slug snackies were better than a random hookup. Sloppy lo mein and sticky orange chicken drenched in sweet and sour was far sexier.

He sat back against the couch cushions, enjoying every bite of that cheap Chinese. Finally, a moment of silence after the chaos that brought him nightmares every night. Instead of cooking rats and snacking on bugs on that island, he could have something that wasn’t entirely trash. Who am I kidding, Leon rolled his eyes, this is trash, but it was good trash.

Ripley had just made her way on screen when a noodle slapped him on the side of his face. “Fight me, bitch.”

Sadly it had lost to the strength of Leon’s bite force. It was outmatched, quite unfairly. However, it didn’t stop his reign of tyranny over those greasy noodles. Small, useless thoughts filled his head the more he ate. What did Ashley eat when she got home? Probably some kind of prime rib, or McDonalds’s. Who knew? With another morsel of chicken crunched into his mouth, Leon stopped chewing: what would Merchant have eaten?

There was a pause.

Who’s to say he needed any food? He could have been there for the longest time and had stolen things to eat from the cult. The very image of that man brought nausea to Leon’s stomach. Who knew if the bastard was alive or dead, fed or starving, rich or poor? The hunger had left Leon’s belly, so he put the white box of food in the fridge for later. He hated cold Chinese, but when it was midnight and he couldn’t sleep, it was a comfort. All of his internal debates were still bringing up the idea of who Merchant was; where he was.

“Maybe he has some kind of trigger point. If he’s selling weapons to people who need them right as they need it,” Leon looked at his gun case hidden between a bookshelf and the wall, “then maybe I should raise some hell and ditch the ammo this time.”

Leon considered his experiment for all of five seconds before he acted on it. Soon, he was brushing his teeth and putting his jeans back on to go out. He planned to attend a strip club where pretty girls went to make bank off sleazy men who loved the thrill. Leon would have a few drinks, spoil his favorite dancer, then start trouble. I’m an idiot, echoed in his head.

“But I gotta see you, Merchant. I just have to.”

~*~

A punch to the face, various kicks to the gut, and Leon found himself being thrown over a small bridge and into a nearby river. Back tracking through previous events, the man had caused a fight when two idiots who were getting physical with his favorite girl. Next thing he knew, he was floating downstream, leaving blood pooling behind him. Those men were bigger than him, carried weapons with bullets and sharpened knives. Who was he kidding? He let them bully him until he was in enough trouble to go searching for his target.

If only he had brought ammunition,

if only he wasn’t such a sensitive man when it came to saving innocents...

if only he hadn’t wanted to see Merchant so badly.

Up ahead, there was a small waterfall. The rapids were roaring loudly and strong enough to pull him under the water. They would keep him there as soon as he dropped. Anyone else would be panicking, but for a moment, Leon wondered what kind of hell he would be leaving if the waters claimed his soul. No more pain, emotional trauma, the works. He would just disappear, drown.

What a dream, then he peered down where his feet were sliding towards the fall, nah, that’s a goddamn nightmare.

Soon, he began to struggle with the return of his senses. To his left, a tree limb was just barely out of reach. The water was quickening and so was his injured body. Every smaller branch he could grab had snapped. The echoes of the falls were growing louder, pulling him forward into his demise. Without thinking, Leon screamed for help, choking on the river water that was slowly suffocating him. Such a violent, foolish end to his miserable life. He hated himself for his decisions until he felt a tight grip around his wrist.

Color faded in and out of his vision. Shadows bled into the corners of his eyes until the figure came into view. By then, Leon had passed out, leaving himself to the stranger who was attempting to save his life.

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #leon x merchant #fanfiction #leon smut #18+#mdni #short series #creative writing #resident evil leon #resident evil remake

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mamabearwonders · 3 months

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Rant About Manager (Part 2/2)

So my other boss or general manager is- well, let's say he's a few fries short of a Happy Meal. In his case, a McSad meal because I genuinely don't understand how he's a manager. He also walked out when I got hired and now he's back??

So in my healing from c*vid/before stomach fl* era, I called out for a mental health & thrifting day on Thursday or I knew I'd quit when I got my thrifting therapy to fuel. So I already didn't wanna come in on Friday and lowkey both still sick and getting sick again.

This guy literally stands on the line all day texting. He's supposed to be covering grill. I would call back so many times well before we ran out what we were out on. I'd just get, "K." "Yeah." Then no food. When we were in a rush ALL DAY. He starts blaming me and the other person doing a 5 person job on line that "we're giving too much food out."

Listen buddy. I'm not a math expert. But one rinky dinky pan of white rice is not going to be enough for an all day out the door mad dash rush. And customers are able to get as much rice as they want- our portions are like WW2 rations so I get it.

He refuses to put signs up, refuses to communicate with guests, won't give refunds, it's a nightmare. Half the time he doesn't put cash in the drawer so no cash. He makes giving breaks seem like such a burden.

We asked him politely to grab stuff from the fridge he's right next to because we can't leave the line or there's one poor unfortunate soul at the mercy of the hungry masses up there. He refuses and just texts. End of the day, he starts complaining to my manager who was in the trenches with me about how I didn't do outs all day. She defended me.

Like OBVIOUSLY? I can't leave the line? And we asked you to help us! There's no staff here?? We even had folks who come on at my time to leave who offered to clock on early to help us. He refused, but then refused to cover me up front while he's just texting away. Why are you a manager? I'm minimum wage, idc if this sad place burns to the ground. You're supposed to care about customers and workers - ya know, the two people that bring money in for your paycheck twice the size of mine for standing around looking at the air.

I get it, I don't do much either. But you're not gonna yell at me for having no change in the drawer which isn't my job or for not outs when you won't let anyone help us including you.

But the final straw was- at long last I could see the light outside beckoning me to leave. 30 minutes after my shift, finally. As I'm making my EMPLOYEE MEAL, he asked me to clock back on to take out another section's trash. Excuse me?

He's like I'll pay you. i hope so, sir. That would be illegal otherwise. Is that supposed to be an incentive? Also 10 extra minutes is like peanuts, it won't show up. ALSO. That's not my job either? I'm happy to help out those who help me, but not to CLOCK BACK ON? The absolute disrespect. Not even a "hey I apologize for keeping you late". But while I'm making my burrito.

So I threw my gloves on the counter, pretended to be in the back and turned around to leave. It's not about the money. And this is why friends of mine and I impulsively quit jobs- because we don't like being disrespected like this. And it sucks how you have to just put up with it because sadly that's the current state of the retail and fast food job industry.

I've been looking for an escape for months. Popped back on indeed, all the same jobs I've been applied to months ago or jobs just as toxic as mine.

I'm trying to just say, oh I don't work that often, but I absolutely dread going into work. I have 1 coworker that helps a bit, but he's only there on my shift once out of the three shifts if that anymore (college for him). I can't even sleep on nights I have work.

It doesn't help it's me and one other person if that running tortilla, hot food side (so like rice), salsas side, bagging chips and salsas and doing cashier. If we had a cashier, it would help a lot instead of constantly changing gloves and changing food and washing hands to avoid cross contamiation.

Oh. And I've gotten sick TWICE from there. I wasn't exactly having the time of my life with c*vid and certainly not with the stomach fl*, but I was happy to be away from work. Now that it's happened twice especially I just don't wanna be back.

And I can't get temporary unemployment because a previous job lied about things so I can't get it. Also adulting is kind of stacking up so I might HAVE to take another day at work and mentally, physically and emotionally I can't. My health is already bad enough, I'm just trying not to push myself so hard I'm forced to quit due to health and then have no job.

Tbh if I just got transferred to the restaurant down my street instead of that one, I'd be ok for a bit longer. It's a smaller one and just down the block instead of a few stops away. But I've applied for MONTHS and they say they're hiring, but apparently aren't. I also don't know what the environment is like over there. I just need a change of pace...anything like idk. It's not doing wonders for my health at all.

It's frustrating turning around and my manager is literally out in the open just texting. Not getting change, not helping us, yelling at us for not doing his job, trying to force us to do even more work without extra pay...

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panzershrike-pretz · 3 months

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Graves - pt 3

part 1 | part 2

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No drawing today because I felt too tired to do it (art block is an ass). Buuuuut at least I'm very proud of how this part turned out! I'm happy with it >:3

Warnings for mentions of death and kidnapping.

My taglist: @onehelluvamarine @xxluckystrike @1waveshortofashipwreck @sweetxvanixlla @whollyjoly @executethyself35 (if you want in/out, just tell me)

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Gossip spread fast around that Loop and news about Sam and Enoch's return would get to Miss Peacock at any moment - for that reason, the group needed to sneak their way through the slums to get to the Cutthroat Inn. It was where they'd find Jack: hopefully the answer to Seamus’ many questions.

Sam seemed lost in his own mind as they cut through streets and passages. The place smelled and the constant fumes coming from the industries tinted the air in a yellowish, sick tone. Everyone seemed ill under that light - it wasn't news, though. Flies were everywhere and the ground was littered with dirt, never-drying puddles and trash.

It was slowly getting dark and here and there some people could be seen gathering around trash piles lit on fire for warmth. It was a sad scene all around - and they knew they needed to be quick. Night time was the worst time to wander through the Devil's Acre: it was when assassins, cannibals and thieves made their moves on visitors from the wrong turf and killed the poor no-majs, eternally stuck living the same dreadful day only to be killed again and again whenever the loop was reset.

Peggy seemed happy to lead the way, nose down on the ground and tail wagging as much as always. It didn't take long for them to make it to the Inn. It was full with recognizable faces; addicts, alcoholics and weird people all around - safe, probably, for Kenji's brothers, sitting alone and enjoying some of the place's beer after a long day of Gods-know-what.

Peggy entered, followed closely by the three, attracting looks and whispered comments of “what are they doing here?” and “what do they want?”. They knew they weren’t welcomed there, but still they had to swallow whatever fear they seemed to have and walk through, up to the man behind the counter.

“Who do we have here?” He asked, looking up from the glass of whiskey he was pouring for someone. “Looks like I got visitors. Good to see ya again, Pangey.”

“Hey, Jack, you seem busy”, she gave him a friendly smile as she sat down on one of the highchairs of the counter. He had served Pangea too many wine glasses for them to be any less than good friends.

Jack smiled right back - with too many sharp, scary teeth for their confort. He then seemed to pay attention to Dean and Seamus; even if his eyes were exclusively a milky-white, they seemed to flicker between the two. Last time he had seen them, Seamus had punched the hell out of him. He was still somewhat bitter.

He turned his attention to Pangea, seemingly the only one of them who he trusted enough to talk directly to.

“I'm assuming you're not here for a fun night out…” he sounded nervous, maybe scared. He hid his hands under a towel, to not show them shivering. “They are not here for a fun night out.”

“Then you'd be correct, Jack.” She leaned forward, tilting her head to look at her friends. “We're here because we have some questions. That is all.”

Jack flattened his ears, grabbing a glass to clean and maybe distract his mind.

“Look, I'm at work. Can't be talking now. Come back at closing time and-”

“We don't have time, Jack.” Dean cut him. “You don't even know what we want.”

“How can I expect anything good from you?” He shot back, instantly regretting it. “Listen, whatever it is, I don't need to be involved. I'm simply a bartender and I know nothing.”

“We think you do know about Pansy, though…?” Sam tilted his head, paying attention to Jack's reaction. The man took a step back involuntarily, the fur on his tail puffing from the sudden mention of her name.

“I don't work for them anymore. Do you think I'm some kind of spy?” He snarled, then looked away. “I left that life behind me and don't want to think about it again.”

“Oh, you will!” Dean pushed himself over the counter, grabbing Jack by his shirt in a way that almost made the Wight fall. “You will answer everything we need you too, by force or not.”

“I don't know anything! Not anymore!” Jack slammed his hands on the counter, pulling back to free himself. “I certainly don't have to answer you! Pansy is in jail, where she deserves to rot and that's it! Now, out of my Inn before I have to use Clementine to get you all out!”

“Pansy is not in jail.” Pangea said, lifting her hand to make Dean sit down. The news made Jack stumble, infinitely less threatening now.

“She… what…?”

“Pang is right. She's on the loose again and whatever info about her you have, might help us capture her again.”

“But… but that's impossible. I saw it- I saw her being taken! With my own two eyes- it was her. It- she can't be free.” His eyes were wide in fear. “She's too dangerous to be free. She-”

Jack stopped, noticing how quiet the bar went. He looked around, the man sitting close to them seemed to pay way too much attention - then he shook his head, grabbing a boy who seemed no more than 16 by the arm and shoving his towel upon his hands.

“Jacques, you take care of the Inn until I'm back.” Then, he made a signal for the three to follow him to the back of the place.

Jacques seemed lost as his boss wandered away followed by the strangers, then turned around to face the people on the establishment. As a simple boy with too little experience, the scary men certainly made his blood run cold - thank Gods he was safe behind the counter.

“You… you can all resume your activities… now… maybe…”

Jack fiddled with some keys before finding the one who opened the big, heavy door of the back, having to push it with all his strength to manage to open it. He let the trio and Peggy in before grabbing a lantern and lighting a fire to guide them down the stairs.

It was dark, obviously, and they couldn't help but wonder why it was so - for a moment, the stairs leading to the basement seemed too claustrophobic for their taste, but eventually the room opened to a large deposit with barrels of beverage and boxes of Gods-know-what. Maybe food or weapons? It could be anything.

“Here we can talk.” Jack said, using the fire of his lantern to light the candles that filled up the place. “Up there is dangerous, Gods know who is one of their spies.” He then sat down against some boxes, arms crossed. “Ask whatever you need to know, but I'll not put my neck on the line for you. They know where I live and if a single word gets out that I helped you, they'll come for me.”

“This is not a war, Jack.” Dean said, leaning against the wall.

“For you it isn't. I deserted them. If this is not reason enough for them to dispose of me, treason is.”

Pangea shifted her weight between her feet, looking down. She seemed guilty enough without hearing those words, but now she felt even worse. She grabbed Sam's hand and gave it a light squeeze of 'be quick', before letting it go again.

Sam nodded, sitting face to face with Jack.

“Pansy somehow got out. We know because she sent a Hollow to kill Miss Pigeon, the monster itself told Enoch-”

“They are no monsters” Jack cut him off, seemingly angry. “You remember I was one of them once. They are as much Köbek as me and you.”

“Yeah, you were one of them once!” Dean spat. “Tell me again how you left that form…? Oh, right! You killed innocents to eat their souls!” He then stared at the other. “Not so much of a guilty conscience in sight, tho. A pity.”

“How my conscience was left is between me and the Gods. By all means, Dean, it doesn't involve you.”

“Tell that to those you killed…” he whispered, too low for Jack to listen, shifting his gaze to the exit to hide his anger.

“Dean.” Pangea called him off, nodding her head. If anyone was going to give Jack a lesson on clean concience, it couldn't exactly be Dean.

“Well, no matter how Pansy got out, it was pretty clear she'd go after the one who got her locked first. ” Jack proceeded. “How did she find Miss Pigeon is beyond my comprehension, if that's what you want to know.”

“We want to know what you know about Pansy. How does the hierarchy of Regulus’ followers work? How did she climb it so fast?” Sam went back to questioning.

“Not much of a hierarchy. Regulus has Drabek and Pansy as his main helpers, then there's the ones that spy, the ones that kill and the rest is rest. They do whatever he wants.”

“What… were you?” Pangey wanted to know, talking softly so it wouldn't seem too invasive of a question.

“I was no one, if that'll make you happy. Only one of those brainwashed freaks that fucked around and found out.” Jack's voice seemed sad as he recalled those times, as if he fought against some loose tears. “It cost me too much, anyway.”

“How many of his Wights are still around the Devil's Acre?” Seamus wanted to know, leaning forward.

“Huh, that's hard to know. I only know about Aleta, as of now, she runs the illegal underground fights. Maybe even kidnappings, like that of Mademoiselle Eleanor's neighbors, the Compton family.”

“They disappeared?” Pangea's eyes went wide. “When?”

“Just a couple nights ago. Maybe a week or more. Didn't you know?” Jack tilted his head. “They were sleeping and next thing you know there were screams and they were gone.”

“How do you know?!”

“She came by earlier the day after asking if I saw anything weird. She told me everything, then I offered her and her kid to stay here for some time, until your dear Birds handle the situation.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It seems they left you out of the loop, though. What worth our lives have anyway, right? We're just a burden for them. That family went to the grave, they didn't seem to care.”

“Don't you open that filthy mouth of yours to talk bullshit about the Birds!” Dean snapped back, threatening to attack before Pangea ran up to stop him.

“DEAN! STOP!” She pulled him back, making him break eye contact with Jack. “He's entitled to his opinions about the Ymbrynes! I am sure Miss Peacock is working tirelessly to know what happened.”

“He's right in defending the Birds, really. Why would they benefit from the deaths of the criminals they shoved here to suffer?” Jack let out a sarcastic laugh, facing away from them. “We don't matter. Never did.”

“Jack, where do you think Pansy would go after she dealt with Pigeon?” Seamus asked, trying to bring attention back to the questions bafore Dean made quick work of him.

“Her family's house…? To get revenge, obviously. Whoever freed her, was not one of them.”

“Do you have any idea of where they live? Or know anything about them?”

“They are disgraced. Suffered a heavy fall from grace once Pansy and her brothers deserted for Regulus’ cause. They probably still have the family's Estate. Pretty rich guys, now they're bankrupt and live off favors for the bigger families, like the Serpens.”

“That's Sirius and Hydra's family, right?” Pangea asked. “Aren't they, like… the big guys?”

“They run the whole world, obviously they are!” Jack once more let out a laugh. “But if you're smart, you'll not get in their way. And will keep out of the Graves family's lands. They might be scrapping the low barrels but they're still terrible people and they'll do anything to have their place up with the giants again.”

“What else should we know…?” Sam leaned back.

“The family that disappeared had a young daughter that worked with Peacock, with the Pandeloop. She was a researcher and was there for a chance of an internship with the Ministry. She had access to the Map of Days and other stuff. Wherever she is now, it might have been her that gave Pansy the information about Miss Pigeon's hiding spot.” Jack got up, leading the way back to the stairs. “I'm done with the questions, but just know that even if we're stuck here because of our crimes, some people would rip the skin off their own body to save who they love. The girl might've been forced to give off the information.”

Jack let them up the steps first, before blowing off the candles and following right up. He felt a sense of relief to be out of the basement and as soon as possible, went up to help Jacques - anything to get the trio off his tail.

They seemed to catch the message and promptly left the place, safe for Pangea who fell back to try and talk with him.

"Hey, Jack... I'm sorry for this. I really am."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, just stay out of trouble. All of you." He turned to face her, and now genuine worry seemed to float on his eyes. "It's not your battle to fight and you'll be entering a dangerous zone to mess with Pansy. She's a merciless bitch and the last thing you need is to pick a fight with her."

Pangea kept quiet, her eyes dropping to the ground with guilt. She knew as much as him that the information he gave them would be used somehow and things would end up messy.

"Please just tell what you know to the proper autorities. Pangea, I beg you."

"I can't... you knew this from the beginning."

Jack crossed his arms once more, then nodded.

"Alright. Ok. Well... at least stay safe. I won't cover for you guys and definetely won't put myself in danger, but... best of luck with whatever you'll do."

"You're a good man, Jack. Don't beat yourself up over the past. I saw your face back there." Pangea took a step back, tilting her head just a bit. "You can get out of this place and live a proper life, somewhere quiet... with Clementine."

"As much as I'd love to, I believe I have to pay for my sins here. I hurt too many. That's the least I can do..." then, he looked at the door, where Seamus and Dean stood, waiting for their friend. "See you soon, Pang. And please, bring that boyfriend of yours. He's more pleasant to be around than those two."

Pang saw a smile form on his lips as he spoke the last bit, and she found herself giggling. It was true, though, and she couldn't agree more.

"See you too. Stay safe."

----------------------------------------------

The silence fell upon them as they made their way back. It was already too dark and the only illumination left was from the fires to warm the homeless. They still had to go to Eleanor's place to get Enoch and Horace, but the news about the kidnapped family kept rolling around in their minds. Why did no one tell them? Did Athena and Hydra even know about it? Kenji? Or Millard, for that matter? Someone would've told them if they knew.

As they dragged themselves along the winding streets, more questions seemed to pop up from everywhere and their necessity to go see Peacock was turning into anxiety - she didn't seem to be as much of a saint as she wanted to.

When they finally turned the corner of Eleanor's street and they saw the sign of her doll shop, their worries had to be put aside.

“Which of the houses do y'all think is the family's?” Asked Pangea, looking around. To have a house in the Devil's Acre was one hell of a privilege - most people had to inhabit the streets or whatever hole they could find.

Every house appeared abandoned and decrepit. It was hard to guess which one was now vacant. It felt wrong to even dare to find out.

Pangea pushed the door and a little bell rang, announcing their arrival. Steps, alongside wheels, were heard coming from the back.

“We're not open at this time, can't you see the sign-...” as the young boy appeared at the door, his voice dropped. Louis, Eleanor's adopted son smiled at the visitors, pushing the wheels of his chair forward to greet them. “Miss Coldwell! Mister Finnegan! And… Thomas! ‘Tis good to see ya! Momma's in the back caring for yer friend! Come in, now!”

They had no choice but to follow Louis as he guided them through the store and then the house to Eleanor's room, where she chatted away with Horace about whatever clothes were fashionable in Paris back when she lived there.

“Oh please, London had nothing in the face of my- “ she stopped abruptly, turning around to see their new company. “Oh my, what a busy day! Now, now, find some seats, you lot, you look like Hell!”

Eleanor had orange, glowing eyes - the most colorful thing about her, who dressed in dark robes of the finest cloth and real, high quality leather. Unlike most inhabitants of the Loop, she had come from a wealthy family back in Paris - a runaway and a thief, married to the king's personal physician back in the day, but persecuted for witchcraft and for consorting with the Devil. She seemed proud of letting everyone know how she escaped Paris and the charges, running away to live in a much worse place as a dollmaker and healer.

“Your friend here seems to be doing well. He told me about Miss Pigeon's solution, which sounds like one of Ruddy Shelduck's own inventions. Bless her, he could be dead by now if the potion didn’t have bone healing properties.”

“He told me how you guys fought a real Hollow!” Louis said, energetic, freeing himself from the wheels to flop back over the bed. “Momma said it's a miracle you got away without losing a piece!”

“Hey Sam, did ya know brave Louis here lost his arms to a Hollow?” Enoch tilted his head, indicating the energetic child.

“I'm… sorry… to hear that…?” Seamus whispered, kinda lost about how to react even if Louis seemed very proud of his situation - armless, but with a cool story to tell. He shook his head, looking back at Eleanor. “Jack told us about your neighbors. I'm sorry for what happened.”

“Oh, he did?” She asked, gently touching Enoch's nose to feel his temperature. “He'll grow a fever, it's a side effect of drinking the potion, you should look over him, Miss Coldwell, I heard you're a skilled doctor.”

Although it was clear as day Eleanor tried to change subjects, Pangea took a step in her direction and grabbed her hand. “No worries, Miss Dubois, I'll care for it. We're truly sorry for your loss, though, you seem unwell.”

“It's nothing, really…” She murmured, but it didn't sell the lie. “It's just… she was a good kid, this Compton girl. Her family was sent here over her father's murder charges, which were false but the court barely heard his testimony. They all had to suffer over the fake claims, and now they're all gone.”

Eleanor let herself sit down, looking at the window. The house across the street was theirs - now it was empty, with doors wide open because of thieves.

“Her name was Harriet. She had a bright future if she made it to the Ministry, no doubt. And there'll be no justice for her.”

“Well, we'll find out what happened,” Sam said, much to everyone else's surprise. “We already have a lead to Pansy, don't we?”

“You are insane!” Horace said, then he noticed their looks turned to him. “What?! You don't expect me to help, do you?!”

“What do you think…?” Dean asked, resting a hand over the other's shoulder. “You'll run back home and call our friends to a meeting. Things will start to get interesting.”

“For all the Gods sake! Where did I put myself?!” He stepped away from Dean, patting his shoulders before making his way to the exit.

“You better have a plan.” As Pangea helped Enoch out of the house, her eyes were glued at Seamus. It's true he was responsible enough to keep most of their company alive back during the war, but to promise such a thing as justice for Harriet was something they could hardly live up to. Especially with Pansy involved.

“Heyyy, did Captain Finnegan ever let us down back then?” Dean asked over his shoulder, a playful smile as he looked at Pang’s face. “It'll be fiiiiiiine.”

Pangea rolled her eyes, looking down at the ever so happy dog who followed along. “Oh, Gods, have mercy.”

#pretz oc #🥨🪶#yeahhhhhh i love my little guys time to make them suffer #as a treat :3

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