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#soa figure
dailyfigures · 1 year
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Sinon ; Sword Art Online ☆ Kotobukiya
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0-g-i · 5 months
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Psst, Happy late Birthday @shookethdev !
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Wasn't sure if the white rays around Eclipse's head was fabric, or not. So you get two versions. X3
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shookethdev · 1 year
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WHAT POWERS THE SOULFORGED?
Okay, so Bookcat wants me to post more lore... so I'll post something I made up after @clxckwork-sun-n-moon's suggestion of calling Sun and Moon Soulforged instead of Warforged and also the sleep ask!
So one of my 4 am lore ideas was was about how Sun and Moon (and the other animatronics) function, how they use magic, etc.
I decided that in Staff of Afton, all of the soulforged are powered by magical crystals that are formed in tragedies (specifically near apocalyptic ones, which explains the small amount of soulforged in the world). These crystals are formed by the leftover magic and fragments of souls, that absorb magic from the area around them.
The soulforged were made to be able to tap into the energy of these crystals to use them for power, casting magic, and repairing themselves. Which is why Sun and Moon technically do need to rest sometimes in order to recharge the crystal a bit after heavily using it.
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neodarkdark · 9 months
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I got so distracted thinking about general ranger series stuff I forgot about the original thought that prompted that whole train. The original thought was something to do with after/even during the game's final story events, Svern wiping all the Altru and TDS database info that he could possibly get his mitts on, so the ranger union would have to start from scratch as much as possible (he did it for any data but especially he wanted the data gone on topics such as the Shadow Crystal)
YEAH I ALSO REMEMBERED NOW another way the Union got lucky was again in the NICK of time getting Isaac and the Incredible Machine blueprints from the oil field hideout RIGHT when that info was set to be wiped and the base abandoned
Anyways. The point was that the union still had Brighton's diary and the scans and info they took from it to make up for it, which probably annoyed Svern a bit, but what can you do. Maybe that's one of the things he wants or wanted to do is see if he can't get in there and destroy as much of that as he can as well. + Hinder the progress they make on researching it in future. The less ppl know or can learn too quickly the better.
I need to think about and work out soooo much more stuff
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garbinge · 5 months
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Maybe One Day
Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader
Summary: You go back to Charming 10 years after… everything.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.
SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
A/N: I wrote this on my phone so don’t mind any odd formatting or editing mistakes!
Part 2
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The moment you crossed into the town line you felt the heaviness overcome you. It was like there was this smog that only existed within the miles of town, one foot outside that sign that held the town founding year and population and it was like fresh air. But currently you were being suffocated as the odometer added mile after mile as you drove deeper into Charming.
It was like looking at an old photograph, not much had changed in most parts. There was still the main street strip, some of the stores definitely were new, but the street felt the same. You noticed the lack of loud, rumbling motors, lack of two wheeled engines parked along the curb. But early on that had been how it was before Scoops turned into the new head quarters for the Sons of Anarchy. It had been 10 years since you’d been back here, so it was likely the original club stomping grounds were back in commission.
You had told yourself you weren’t going to find out if that were true but you currently were parked just outside the automotive shop to see a new black warehouse like space where the old blue one used to be. The paint didn’t look too fresh where SOA was stencilled on but it looked new enough to you as you leaned against the black cutlass.
One thing and one thing only. It was the sentence you repeated in your head over and over as you drove hours back home. Back home, that felt like a heavy statement. Charming might have been where you grew up, but it wasn’t home. Despite it being where you’ve lived most in your life, it wasn’t home. One thing and one thing only. You knew that wasn’t true every time the thought ran in your head. It was inevitable that you’d come here, that you’d stop at the rocky mounted highway where JT’s memorial was. Where the helmet and sunglasses of the other Teller still lay abandoned.
You were just supposed to grab the last few things at the house before the closing date. The realtor handled everything else, the listing pictures, the calls with interested buyers, you had hired people to straighten up and you had put mostly everything else in storage 10 years ago, but there was one thing that was still in that house that no one else could get but you.
You didn’t put the house on the market until a month ago. It was an assumption but you figured the club was going to use the house for whatever shady business or reasons, it’s why you were happy you had a confirmed buyer that first week of putting the blue house on the market. All it took was one day and one tour by your realtor before the offer came in. But that sped up your timeline. It was likely that was why you pushed this out so far, dreading the thought of coming out here and going to the kitchen drawer and grabbing that pocket notebook that you hid in the false bottom of it.
Now that notebook was weighing heavy in your back pocket but it was fitting considering the weight of the air. You saw people in TM work shirts moving around, the weight of the word Teller staring down at you even from the street. That was all Charming ever did, weigh heavy on you.
You thought of the words you repeated over and over again. One thing and one thing only. What a lie. You scoffed slightly as if the conversation you were having in your head was actually happening outloud.
A few more thoughts popped into your head, each from someone this town had an effect on. Both statements weighing heavy on you because what else would thoughts about Charming be.
The one Hale spoke to Jax when you were younger. “It wont be long before SAMCRO is just an ugly memory in the history of charming.” Something felt unsettling there, unfortunately Hale died before he could see that come to light and as you stared at the new SAMCRO compound you had to think you probably would too.
Then Wendy’s voice came to your head, “The MC, this town, it kills all the shit you love.” She was right before shit even hit the fan. Although, shit was always hitting the fan so she was just on the pulse of Charming before any one else even bothered to look. You had lost everyone to Charming—to the club. Yes, you had Abel and Thomas still, but it was different, everyone you had in your family during your young life was gone. Tara, Jax, Gemma, Opie. The list went on.
But before you could continue the list you heard a familiar voice. The voice of the one person you hadn’t technically lost to the reaper but you most certainly lost to Charming and SAMCRO.
You hated how the voice made your heart happy. You hated how it managed to make every ounce of heaviness disappear and flee to the deep depths of the town and would only surface when you were left alone. But as you heard his voice again it made you wish you never would be alone again. It made you think for the briefest of seconds that maybe you could back out of the offer, move into the house that was now in your name and create a life here. Charming was home after all.
No. No. Charming was not home. The quick rational part of your brain quickly jolted you back to reality. That weight quickly rising from the ground and pulling at your ankles as a reminder that the town’s grip would suffocate you. But there it was again, the interruption that pulled the weight off your ankles and had you feeling as light as a feather.
“Love?”
The name he called you for years, whether it was in public or when you were tangled up in the sheets felt like a breath of fresh air in this smothering town. It wasn’t a nickname solely for you, you heard him say it to many women in your years of knowing him, and he probably had a fair share of women now he used the name on.
But that didn’t stop your knees from wanting to buckle. You turned and saw him, it was ironic that in your years of hanging in this club house, at TM, you had never seen Chibs on the street in front of the club HQ. Most guys parked inside, the street parking was reserved for excess cars who were there for service and for on lookers like yourself, although they usually tended to be wearing badges.
“Mother of Christ.” His accent was thick as he lifted his sunglasses up and off his face. His feet were moving towards you.
He didn’t think twice before engulfing you in a hug. You had thought about this moment a lot, going over all the different ways it could go. In one of the scenarios you thought he’d pause immediately front of you, stare at you like a stranger. There was something so relieving that he was hugging you like the past 10 years hadn’t existed, that no matter what happened he still cared about you, was happy to see you.
“Chibs!” A voice interrupted your embrace and you wanted to murder them. Funny how being in Charming made homicide an instant thought.
Chibs pulled away and that’s when the Scottish cologne hit you, a smile filling your face as he looked back to the person in the TM lot.
“Church in 10!”
You looked at the patch on his kutte immediately at those words and saw the president patch. It sent bile to your throat, it was the patch Jax wore for years. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the exact patch he wore, some of the stains on it were likely from his time wearing it. You didn’t stay here long enough to see it sit on Chibbs’ kutte but seeing it now was transporting you back 10 years.
“Why don’t y’come int’the clubhouse darlin’, have a drink, we can talk.” He looked older, the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. You could tell the club life was affecting him, his hair was graying way more and it made him even more attractive.
“I shouldn’t.” You shook your head and doubled down, “I can’t.”
The second two worded statement you spoke is what made Chibs understand, a nod escaping from his head.
“It’s good t’see ye’.” He was trying to keep it light, he knew how hard this was.
“I’m selling the house.” You said it so business like, it was a way to give him the heads up to let the club know. You saw some traces of them being there, not frequently but enough. Cigarette buds in the ashtrays around the furniture that was left, empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. You knew Chibs made sure whoever came by knew to clean up after.
Chibs just nodded and looked down. “Y’happy?”
How were you supposed to be happy after Charming took every last thing that you loved. You thought for a minute and the faces of your nephews flashed in your mind and you smiled.
“The boys are teenagers. I don’t know if you can be happy with teenagers.” You joked.
Chibs grinned at the mention of Thomas and Abel.
You wanted to ask him if he was happy but you were afraid of the answer. You saw what the club presidency did to the person in the role before him. You saw what it had done to the other Teller in the same position just a decade before. It made you think about JT and his legacy for a moment. You always wondered if JT was just exemplified as this great person because he wasnt alive to be rememebered for his flaws. But then you remembered Gemma and Clay and how they only remembered JT for his flaws. Your mind instantly went to Jax who had killed both Clay and Gemma, and what his legacy was. If he’d be exemplified just because he was gone and his flaws would be forgotten. Your eyes moved to the newer clubhouse and saw the small memorial that was on the roof. There was white air forces perched on the edge where Jax would very often sit and reflect. That solidified it for you, he’d be seen as Jax Teller, son of JT, president of SOA, an honor to have known and loved him for the guys who were in the club when he reigned as VP and president. But then your eyes fell back on Chibs, the hope that since he knew the flaws that essentially led to the death of your brother, he’d lead differently while still respecting his legacy in the eyes of the club.
“You rebuilt.” You pointed to the building trying to erase that long heavy thought from your mind.
“Ice cream and hookers were too distracting for the guys.” He teased in reference to Scoops and Red Woody. “You sure you don’t want to come in, love? Church won’t take long, I’ll give y’my dorm while y’wait.”
It was a convincing offer. You wanted to see what Chibs’ dorm looked like, what life was like for him. But deep down you knew you already knew what it looked like because you lived it. You lived it and you hated it. You loved him but hated the life.
“No just came to get this.” You pulled the pocket notebook out and flapped it in the air.
Chibs knew exactly what that was and nodded in understanding.
“Chibs!” The same voice called out again.
“He’ll be in in a second!” You called out, eyes still glued on the Scot in front of you.
The prospect shut up quickly and moved back inside. You wondered how he’d describe you to the members inside, there was only a handful that could potentially recognize you from description, and an even smaller handful that would come out to see for themselves.
“I wanted to give it to Abel. I think he deserves to know Jax the way Jax wanted him to.” You explained the notebook that Chibbs knew all about between the time when Jax was writing it and when you had told him where you’d put it.
“It was really good ta see y’love.”
Despite everything shitty about being back, it was true for you too. It was great seeing him. You wished you could ask him to leave, come stay with you on your humble farm, sell fresh eggs with you at the farmers market and ride dirt bikes with the boys. But it was the same reason he never asked you to stay here. Sure he might’ve asked you to come in for a drink but the words “stay in Charming” would never come from his mouth. He knew it was too painful.
He pulled you in for another hug and you didn’t want to let go. The drink wasn’t sounding half bad, you wanted to catch up, hear about what he’s up to, how he’s been, but the answers you’d want to hear would never come and the one’s you dreaded to hear would be the only one’s that filled your ears.
As you pulled out of the embrace you squeezed his arm in a way to tell him the same about seeing him without actually saying it and then you quickly turned back to your car. Chibs was walking away now, his hand reaching up to wipe the couple stray tears he’d never admit to shedding and dropping his sunglasses back down.
You called out one last time to him, an impulsive decision and impulsive thought meeting together at the tip of your tongue.
“If Abel comes here, push him out. Don’t welcome him in.”
Chibs was frozen at the request and then he nodded in understanding.
“I’ll send ‘em right back to th’farm so his auntie can talk some sense into ‘em.” It was a humorous statement but it gave you relief because Chibs wouldn’t lie to you.
“You can tell him about Jax. The Jax you knew. The Jax we wanted him to be.”
It was just like you to have the most mundane small talk conversation at close range where whispers could be exchanged and this important one where voices carried.
“I won’t.” At first you thought he misheard you and you were going to correct him when he spoke up. “If he’s anything like his ol’ man, he’ll want to become the man we wanted him to be, and we’ve already seen how that plays out.”
You thought it was impossible to feel seen in Charming. To feel heard. You thought it was impossible for someone in the club to speak this way about it. About past members. It was probably one of the many things about Chibs that made you love him, his honesty, his care for the Teller family. It gave you a little hope.
“There’s always room for you at the farm.” You said as Chibs was walking backwards. Getting closer to the club but still staring in your direction. You saw the curly haired man appear from the clubhouse building, about to call Chibs’ name when he spotted you. You knew he’d hear the prospect talk and be outside to see for himself, using Chibs as the excuse.
Your hand raised and waved at Tig like you had just seen him yesterday. He immediately raised his hand waved and you heard his laugh crystal clear from where you were and stared back at Chibs for a response to your invitation.
“Maybe one day, love. Maybe one day.”
Part 2
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ravennaortiz · 21 days
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Your Boyfriend is a Bitch headcanon SOA version
Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and telling that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.
Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @youngadult9016 @littlefrogbrain
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Our sweet Juice is amused at first that goofy grin plastered on his face as he sips his beer. He figures it was obvious that you are with him since the guy literally stepped in between you two as you guys were sitting and talking at the clubhouses bar. Guy must just be to caught up in how beautiful his Old Lady is. Then he hears the guy tell you that your boyfriend is a bitch and he could take him. "Alright buddy" laughs Juice that goofy grin slipping into a tight smile as he grabs his shoulder. Slipping off the stool he steers the guy out the door. "Be back in a bit babe" he calls over his shoulder to you.
"Surprise surprise he couldn't take me. Guess you are stuck with me" states Juice smugly as he rejoins you giving you a kiss on the forehead.
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Chibs has grown used to the "youngins" hitting on you and such. He used to be quick to swing but your calming nature had him using patience and words a little more often now than his fist. This time though he puts the young man through one of the tables. It's hard to say whose more shocked between the three of you. "Think you can do her better Laddie?" Chibs chuckles darkly as he shakes his head at the trembling man under him. "Why don't you join me and my Ole Lady here in the bedroom. One of us can learn some pointers".
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Happy turned away from the pool table when he heard the new prospects response to your decline of a date. Your wide eyed expression, tight smile and nervous chuckle when his eyes met yours told him he had in fact heard the idiot correctly. It was nothing to the prospects expression as he turned to see who you were looking at. Happy simply rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other for a moment before speaking. "I'm her bitch boyfriend.
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Jax is swinging fists before the guy knows what is happening. He demands the guy to answer him between every hard blow. "Think I'm still a bitch?" Are you blind? Couldn't see her crow? The ring?" "Did you miss my arm around her waist?". Jax only relents when Chibs and Opie pull him off the guy. Without another word he pulls you to the dorm hallway to relieve some more of his anger in a more enjoyable way.
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Half-Sack is quick to be in the guys face. Newly patched he feels he has a lot to prove still. He makes it clear he doesn't need a gun to win a fight. Which does not last long and leaves the guy hitting on you knocked out and being dragged out of the clubhouse by Happy.
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At first Tig thinks you and Kozik are playing a joke on him when you two tell him what happened inside while you were getting a drink. The two of you loved to rile him up and play jokes on him. He also can't wrap his mind around who in their right mind would tell his gorgeous, pregnant wife that she could do better and they could do her better. Especially not after you two had been together for ten years. The tears that start to well up though have him up on his feet and inside, dragging the man out by his kutte. Once he gets your nod of confirmation he pulls him toward the ring.
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Opie while usually level headed and one to think things through before reacting. Can't help but to punch the guy in his face before he can even get his sentence out. While he agrees with the guy that you can in fact do better than an outlaw biker, no one else gets to say it.
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Kozik would have let it slide. Being called a bitch and stuff did not bother him. What bothered him was how uncomfortable you got and how the guy would not back off. The quiet whisper of his government name from your lips had him grabbing the offending guy into a chokehold and yanking him out of the clubhouse to teach him a lesson on respect.
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Rat had his teeth gritted as he served drinks from behind the bar. Still being a prospect he was limited on what he could do to a patched member, let alone the VP of another visiting charter. "You have my permission to handle that" stated Jax as he came around the bar, having heard what was happening. Rat nodded his head in appreciation before yanking the guy over the bar top. There were perks to dating the sister of the mother charters President.
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spirit-mail · 11 months
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Fresh Meat
this is some "old" writing that I've decided to continue... idk, but it's on ao3 under the same title! rai_viz <- my ao3
König × M!Reader - 2.5k -
C1 - C2
___×× follow n send asks so i can write more ♡
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The bass filled your ears and sent vibrations through every crevice of your body, eyes closed while your hands flew into the air, waving and slapping against other peoples hands. You couldn't tell if you were on the dancefloor, and you could barely tell if your friend was still with you– he was probably shitfaced drunk at the bar– or maybe he went home with some idiot. Either way, you figured you'd be better off pretending Kyle didn't totally abandon you after he invited you to meet his friends.
You were sort of a shut-in? To be fair, you were just touchstarved- and you were perfectly fine with it, really. Relationships were never your thing, you always had something else to focus on- and now that you didn't, you spent your time fantasizing about all sorts of things- things you could have pulled off if you used your confidence correctly. Kyle- or Gaz, your only friend for the past 6 years, total slut, and not in a bad way of course. He never stayed with a guy (or girl) for more than a week, unless they were rich. You admired him, really, you just didn't understand his extroverted behavior- chatting constantly with random people about absurdly uninteresting things, or just pretending to be a nice person for some shitty sex in an alleyway- it bored you to death.
Kyle's bountiful friendships and dumb ideas lead you here, to some shitty club filled with drunkards and people looking for one night stands.
Either way, he was tired of your stupid moping, and listening to you rant about how badly you want a relationship with no emotional ties, so he set you up. You were sort of asking for it, in a way, and he was just being a good friend! A good friend hooks you up with a friends friend. His name was Soap, apparently, stupidly weird name but hey– no judging. Kyle was supposed to take you to meet Soap and his anonymous friend, but now that he was gone you had to do it yourself.
Once your legs got tired and your arms went limp from waving in the air so long, you found yourself weaving through the crowds of people and trying not to trip on the spilt drinks and strange substances that you'd rather not think about for the rest of your night.
You quickly found yourself seperated from the sweaty maze of people, standing on the velvety floor, staring at the bar in front of you. 3 bartenders moving around and serving drinks hastily, people chatting, others covering their drinks anxiously, surrounding the bar. You looked around a bit before you saw two large figures approaching you. The shorter one, average guy with a stupid haircut. You figured that was Soap. He waved at you, grinning and walking quickly towards you. His gargantuan friend behind him, walking fairly slow to take in the atmostphere of the club. He was underdressed and overdressed at the same time, somehow. He wore a simple hoodie and some sweatpants with crocs, but you couldn't see his face whatsoever. He had on a thick pair of sunglasses and a black mask- as if he was some kind of world famous celebrity. You winced, immediately wanting to go home. What if this dude was a total fucking creep? Is he wanted in this state- what's he hiding his face for?
Thoughts rushed back and forth through your head, some negative, and some positive! Maybe he was so blindingly attractive that looking at his face would kill you... totally. You nervously stepped closer as the shorter man, Soap, placed his hand out for you to shake.
"Sorry we're so late! He took a stupid long time to get ready.." He rolled his eyes jokingly, pointing to the oblivious man behind him. "Ah- you must be Gaz' friend- yeah? I'm Soa- John. Soap is what they call me though." He stuttered out in a thick scottish accent, constantly checking his phone nervously. He looked like he had somewhere to be, and you instantly caught on. "Nice to meet you too, Soap.. I'm [Name], and you?" You shake Soap's hand and gesture to the tall man behind him who was staring at you aimlessly through his glasses. He practically jumped, his scarred hand met yours as he crouched down awkwardly. "König."
"Nice to meet you, König," you smiled, giving his hand a light shake while Soap quickly slid out of the way, running off to find Gaz. "is that your real name? Or another nickname?"
He looked around, realizing his only friend had abandoned him. He was annoyed, to say the least."Yes." You nodded, you frowned at his short answers and frank lack of interest. "So, how do you know Soap?" You beckoned for him to follow you down to the last two empty seats in the bar, taking a seat and watching how he still towered over you even then. Your neck was starting to hurt from looking up at him. "Work friends- acquaintances. He is very- how do you say..." He thought to himself before continuing. "Extrovert! Very extroverted." you smiled, maybe he wasn't as bad as he dressed. "Seems like it. Would you like a drink? On me."
His eyes lingered on you for a minute before he nodded a quick yes. You ordered two Shirley Temples, simple non-alcoholic drinks. The silence quickly shrouded you both, he stared on around the room and you watched the bartender make your drinks, each hoping that the other would strike up conversation. He reaches his hand up to his face, sighing as he slid off his glasses. You immediately took notice, getting a better look at his bright blue- almost crystal clear eyes. He had blonde- maybe reddish eyelashes as well. You quickly noticed the scar running from below the mask, across his nose and slitting his left eyebrow- looked tough. He probably wouldn't appreciate you bringing it up- with how he went out of his way to hide his face. His eyes darted back and forth from yours to every single detail of the atmosphere around you, adjusting to the bright lights and random flashes from the dancefloor.
"You have beautiful eyes." You stated, taking a quick sip of your drink as you stared him down. "T-thank you very much.. what is this?" He picked up the drink and swirled it around with his straw a few times, examining its contents. You grinned, "no alcohol in it, if that's what you're wondering. It's just soda and cherry syrup." He nodded again, poking the straw underneath his mask to take a sip.
His demeanor towards you instantly changed. He practically drank the whole thing within seconds, and then asked for another one. "Thank you for showing me this- it's- it's very good." His eyes squinted in a smile and you smiled back. "Of course."
"If you don't mind me asking, why do you wear the mask?" You questioned, maybe he didn't trust you?
"I just prefer it.. I'm not a big fan of crowded places.." He answered sweetly. "Ah, me as well! Did Soap force you?"
"Yes.." You both rolled your eyes, mentally cursing Gaz and Soap for their stupid, stupid set ups. "Where did they go, by the way?" König asked you, now on his 4th Shirley Temple. "Fucking in the back, most likely. Or they went back to Kyle's place." he chuckled, his mask unable to stretch, revealing certain parts of his face. A few scars here and there, some freckles. You desperately wanted to see his face. "So, where do you guys work?" you figured that would be the start to a long conversation, so you asked. "I work at KorTac Labs! I know Soap through a project partnership with 141 Tech." He lit up at your question, obviously excited to talk about his work. "That sounds fun, what's the project about?"
"It's confidential, sadly. Government work." He trailed off, taking another sip of his drink. "What about you? What is your occupation?" He lit up once again. "I work at a cafe," you laugh at yourself softly, "just a simple job. I also make art though. Its enough to pay rent, plus, painting and latte art do go hand in hand." He chuckles, staring at you again. "Wow,"
Your conversation continues for a while. Long enough for the both of you to forget your friends abandoning you, as you laughed together, graduating from Shirley Temples to light alcoholic drinks. You both were tipsy, having asked eachother every ice breaking question in existence, you passed jokes between eachother, and told stories as you drank.
"Hey, you know what-" He paused, emptying a glass and beckoning for you to move closer to him. In your drunken haze, you slid closer as he crouched down to whisper in your ear. "I know a place- we can go, if you.." he paused, his eyes closing before his head dropped onto your shoulder. You almost fell from just the weight of his head as he giggled softly with you. "Fuck- sorry.. If you'd like, we can- we can go to a hotel.. it's too loud here.."
He spoke without bad intentions, and so you agreed, standing up as he followed you. "I hope you do not think I'm some kind of.. pevers." He hesitated, holding your hand tightly and ripping his mask off. It was around one AM, pretty dark, but with the city lights around you, you could see the freckles that danced across his face, the scars littered around his cheeks, and his eyes that practically glowed in the darkness surrounding you both. You finally saw the full scar, from his left brow, all the way down to the right side of his lip. It was quite a deep cut, leaving that part of the lip opened enough for you to see his tooth.
"[Name]? Ah- sorry about my uhm- mask.. But your staring is making me want to put it back on." He grinned, you continued to stare blankly, your eyes wide with admiration. "You're so pretty." He instantly covered his smile with his hand, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. "Thank you.."
"L-lets get going then, yes?" He looked away for a minute, grabbing your hand once again and dragging you along with him until you had reached his hotel. "You get flustered very easily, König." You smirked, wrapping your arm around his as you entered the luxurious hotel. He was totally entranced, from the way you walked to the way you talked, the way you fluttered your eyes towards him sweetly. You were a fucking monster.
You practically had him on his knees for you already- all the time you spent moping in your room imagining how you'd get some guy to fall head over heels for you might have actually been worth it, you think to yourself while sauntering into the empty elevator with him. "Well- yes, but my friends do describe me as a "shy guy", so.." Oh my god he's so cute. He didn't know how to act around you- let alone look you in the eyes. You entangled your arm within his, actually proud of yourself for the first time in a while- and yeah, maybe you were being vain, or manipulative, but isn't everybody?
"It is a bit.. unangenehm- unpleasant!" He corrected himself, leading you out he elevator and to his suite. "It's very cute, I think." he looked like he was about to pass out, and you hadn't even done much. His cheeks were red, palms sweaty, and despite his intimidating appearance, he was shaking- like a scared kitten.
He opened the door and you were instantly met with the glorious fruits of money and power.
Honestly if you didn't know this was a hotel, you'd have thought it was an apartment. The entrance lead straight into the large livingroom, a lavish couch sat in front of a flat-screen TV, a coffee table with a plate of half-eaten breakfast on top, adding to the homely feeling. Across from that area, a dining-area connected to a small, but still modern kitchen. "Scheiße.." You heard him mutter under his breath, using your basic common sense you understand immediately what he says, his arm pulling out of your grasp to quickly grab the messy plate off the table.
"My apologies for this mess- I didn't really plan to have visitors.." He smiled awkwardly and slid the plate out of view into the kitchen. "It's fine, really." You grinned, striding towards him with a hand out. You had a bit of trouble at first, wrapping your hands around his neck- you would have had to climb him if he didn't lift you up with his left hand, unconsciously placing his right on your thigh to support you.
"Y-you're very pretty- or handsome.." He breathed.
"You're pretty handsome too, König."
You ran your fingers through his hair before tugging on it softly and lowering your neck to kiss him. Your lips met eachother softly, no tongueing- just a simple, sweet kiss. You felt the warmth radiating off of his cheeks, his grip on your thigh getting rougher. You quickly pulled away, enjoying the way his eyes widened immediately in shock.
He almost dropped you, the silence making you question whether he wanted it or not. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by his raspy mumbles. He placed you down with a quick plop, touching his lips and smiling. "Do it again, bitte?"
You instantly found yourself face to face with him, hands running through his hair wildly while he picked you up happily and walked over to his bedroom for a more.. comfortable experience. "Please, again? I'm- I'm sorry I just-" You stopped him mid-sentence, kissing him again, but rougher. Biting at his lip gently and tugging on his hair. He turned around, seating himself on the large bed and allowing you to straddle him. "You're so.. so cute." you panted, both of you catching your breath. You mindlessly started to buck your hips against his groin, holding onto his shoulders as one side of your nearly fully unbuttoned shirt slid off, revealing your chest to him.
Within seconds you could feel his entire energy change, his hands rested on your hips, head tilted back in a slight groan. "Scheiße.." You took the chance to lean into his neck, kissing and biting as gently as you could- but hard enough to leave a mark.
"König," You called, resting your hands on his hips while his eyes met with yours shyly. He was breathing heavily, leaning on his hands for support. "...are you sure you want to do this?"
"Ja, bitte.."
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
Text
Tailed
Happy Lowman x F!Reader
For Day 3 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: rope burns/knife to throat/"hold still"
Warnings: 18+, angst, injury, murder, language
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: It's been a minute since I've written for Happy, I feel like. I love this dude. I think he deserves a woman who is willing to kill for him idk.
SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @anditsmywholeheart @i-just-read-stuff @justreblogginfics @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc @garbinge @passionatewrites @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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The bag that had been over his head for a while now didn’t bode well for him. The ropes that were binding and ripping the skin of his wrists and ankles didn’t exactly spell out good news for him either. He wasn’t too worried, though. It was concerning, sure, but it was far from the first time he’d found himself in circumstances like this. Knowing him, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.
He had a gut feeling that whoever it was that had snagged him, and whatever their issues were with him, weren’t exactly related to the club. It was no secret that the MC had its fair share of enemies, and that particular laundry list of people would’ve been a good place to start, but as far as Happy knew he was alone. And none of the people who had captured him had called anyone. If it was something to do with the MC, someone would’ve asked him about it or made some sort of phone call by this point, but there was nothing. He wondered if the club even realized yet that he had been snatched up.
Whoever these people were, they definitely wanted him for personal reasons. Happy didn’t find that to be surprising in the slightest either. With all the people he knew and the things he’d done, he’d built up quite the roster of people who would like to see him dead or dying.
No one had said anything to him since he got thrown into what he was assuming was a van of some kind. He was sitting upright so he knew that they hadn’t tossed him in the trunk of some car, and the fact that there was a cushion underneath him let him know that he wasn’t just getting tossed into the back of some U-Haul. None of those details helped him figure out who had him and why.
Since no one said anything to him, he didn’t say anything to them. He wasn’t like Tig—he wasn’t in the habit of being chatty and making things worse. Sometimes his dedication to silence also made things worse, but it wasn’t quite the same.
Happy had no concept of time as they continued to drive to wherever their mystery destination was. He could hear the murmurs of the people in the car but they weren’t talking loud enough for him to make anything out. He listened for a GPS, or even to try and catch one of them giving directions to the other, but there was nothing. The entire time he was waiting and listening, he was trying to work at the ropes around his wrists. He could feel it ripping at his skin, but he still kept at it. Again, it wasn’t the worst pain he had ever endured. It surely wouldn’t be as bad as whatever was going to ensue once he actually got his hands free.
He just started feeling like he was making a little bit of progress with it when the van made a sharp right turn with no warning at all. Happy grunted as he tipped over in the seat, quickly scrambling to try and get himself upright again. He got an assist that was more hurtful than it was helpful, feeling someone ball their fist into the back of his shirt and push him upright and directly against the side of the van with more roughness than necessary.
“What the fuck was that?!” the man next to him yelled to the driver. It was the most Happy had heard out of anyone aside from their grunts and curses since they captured him.
“Got a tail,” another man, one Happy assumed was the driver, said back to them. “Trying to lose them.”
“By turning and almost going through a fucking building?!”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
The man next to him huffed. “Who’s tailing us anyway?”
“White Chevy. Two cars back.”
Happy started laughing at that—he couldn’t help himself. The club might not have known that he was MIA yet, but of course you did. He should’ve seen that coming.
The man balled his fist into Happy’s shirt, yanking him so that he was face-to-face with him. Even though Happy couldn’t see him through the dark fabric of the hood covering his head, he could still feel the man’s nose pressing against his own.
“Who the fuck is following us?”
“I don’t know,” Happy replied, “I can’t see them.”
He felt the pressure of a knife being pressed against his throat. “Who the fuck is it?!”
Happy remained silent, and the man pressed the blade a little harder into the column of his throat. Happy felt the slight pull and the residual sting of the knife breaking the skin on his neck. It wasn’t a bad cut, not deep enough to be an imminent issue, but it was a promising threat that things were going to get worse if these guys didn’t get answers.
“Someone who is gonna be a real fucking problem for you guys if they get you.”
“Fuck me,” the man next to him grumbled.
The answer must’ve been satisfactory enough, because he pulled the blade away from Happy’s throat. It was a relief, but most because Happy didn’t trust the guy next to him to have a steady hand and if the driver made another sharp turn it was going to be game over very quickly.
“What do you wanna do?” the third guy finally spoke up loud enough for Happy to be able to hear him.
There was something familiar about the guy’s voice. Happy couldn’t quite place it, but he definitely knew it. Whoever the man riding shotgun was, he was the one who must’ve had the vendetta against Happy. He didn’t know who he was or what the vendetta was, and honestly he didn’t particularly care. Happy just wanted all of this to be over with. He was much more certain that things would go his way and that he would live to fight another day now that he knew that you were tailing them.
“I don’t know,” the driver said as he made another turn. “We just, we gotta lose ‘em.”
Happy laughed. “Good luck.”
The remark was met with the guy next to him slamming the side of his head into the side of the van. It was worth it. For a moment Happy understood why Tig was the way he was.
Happy was still working against the binds on his wrists but at this point it felt like it was no use. He was better off waiting for you to sink your teeth into these guys and free him rather than trying to wriggle out himself. It clearly wasn’t working anyway.
A few more minutes ticked by, filled with chaotic turns and the driver slamming on the gas. Finally, though, he said, “I think we’re in the clear.”
All three of the men let out sighs of relief, but Happy knew that they were speaking too soon. Anyone else in his position might’ve been disheartened, but he knew that they weren’t going to get rid of you that easily. You might not have been right behind them anymore, but you definitely weren’t gone.
As if you had been reading his thoughts, the van came to a screeching halt. Happy and the other man in the seat row with him toppled forward, smacking against the seats in front of them. He heard the thudding of the man riding shotgun slamming his hands against the dash to brace themselves. All four of them were cursing as they tried to get themselves right again. Happy didn’t know if being completely in the dark made it harder or easier to do that.
“Son of a bitch!” the man riding shotgun yelled out.
Happy heard the guy next to him take a deep breath, most likely gearing up for some snide comment or more cursing, but he never got the chance as someone started shooting. Happy heard the first two hit the glass of the windshield and he immediately sunk down in his seat. It had to be you. He heard the guys firing back from inside the van, and he did what little he could do given his current circumstances and he threw his body against that of the man sitting next to him. He was rewarded with the sound of the man’s gun clattering to the floor and the guy cursing as he set himself loose on Happy, grabbing him and landing whatever blows he could as the gunfire continued.
Happy was as defenseless as he’d ever been with his hands bound behind his back and his head still covered with the hood. He was trying to kick but his ankles being tied made that difficult too. He tried to squirm and keep moving, anything to keep the hits from landing directly.
Even with all the chaos, it was impossible to miss the sound of a bullet burying itself into someone’s skull. When it happened, the entire van was still and silent for all of a couple seconds before the chaos picked back up and was even more intense.
A few moments after that, there was the sound of the vehicle doors being ripped open. There was screaming and grunting and gunshots, and Happy was just hoping that you were coming out on the winning end of it all.
“Get on the fucking ground!” you yelled as you put a bullet into the kneecap of the man that you’d forcefully pulled out of the passenger seat.
Happy had never been so relieved to hear your rage. He was so distracted by the sound of you that when he heard the back door of the van open and someone grab onto him, he automatically assumed it was another threat. If it wasn’t you that was getting him out, he couldn’t help but to think that it was someone else who had the intention of hurting him.
He thrashed as much as he could until the person spoke up. “Hap, shit, stop, it’s me,” Juice was trying to cut the ropes on Happy’s wrists, or at least pull the hood off his head, but the constant movement made both of those things difficult.
Juice’s voice wasn’t the one that Happy was expecting to hear, but it still got him to stop fighting against the assistance. There was the sound of another gunshot and then Juice finally pulled the hood off so that Happy could see. The sun was blinding, a jarring shift from the hours of darkness he’d just endured, but he wasn’t upset about it. The first thing he saw was the man that Juice had shot and killed slumped in the back seat. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to be an immediate threat, he turned his head, looking around for you as he squinted against the harsh light.
That’s when he saw you, leaning over the man who had been sitting in the passenger seat. You’d shot out both of the guy’s legs. You had your knee pinned to his chest as you leaned over him, the mouth of your gun pressed harshly beneath the man’s chin. Even though there was distance between you, Happy could see the way you were breathing heavily, he could feel the rage coming off of you.
Even though he knew that Juice was trying to free him, Happy was still having a hard time sitting still to let it happen when he knew that you were so close. Juice huffed in annoyance behind him as he tried to do his job without slicing open one of Happy’s wrists in the process. “Hold still for five seconds, Happy. Seriously.”
None of Happy’s attention was focused on himself or Juice anymore though, not when he could hear the conversation happening a few feet away.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man spat out.
You wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “I should be the one asking you that,” but then you realized that you didn’t particularly care who this guy was. You didn’t really care why he wanted Happy. You knew perfectly well that the man you were with had more enemies than smiley face tattoos. It wasn’t surprising that he had landed himself in hot water.
Juice had cut the ties around Happy’s wrists and was just about to be done with the ones around his ankles when you pulled the trigger on your gun one more time, causing the man’s head to snap back as the bullet went clean through it from bottom to top.
“Fuck,” Juice said with a shake of his head as he finally cut through the last of the rope.
The second Happy was free, he was up on his feet and making his way over to you. He wasn’t running, but you could see the determination in his stride and the set of his shoulders. When he got over to you, he held out his hand to help you up from your position of kneeling on the man’s dead body. You tucked your gun back into its holster before slapping your hand into his, both of you tightening your grips as he helped pull you back up onto your feet.
The second you were completely upright, Happy stepped in like he was going to kiss you, but you stopped him as you pressed your palm against your chest. He opened his mouth to ask you what was going on, but you quickly moved your hand up and cupped his chin in your hand before tilting his head up slightly. You saw the cut running along the side of his throat and you frowned.
Once Happy realized what you were doing and looking at, his body relaxed a little bit. He almost started laughing. All the things that had happened in the last few hours and this was what you were getting hung up on. “I’m fine.”
You rolled your eyes as you let go of his chin. “Of course you’re going to say that.”
The two of you were about to start getting into it in the middle of all the carnage you’d caused when Juice interjected himself into your conversation. “Hey, guys, we gotta…we gotta go.”
Just as he said that, you heard the sirens in the distance. That was fair, and expected after all the gunshots. You pointed at Happy accusingly. “This conversation isn’t over.”
Happy knew better than to argue with you. “Alright.”
It was a quiet drive home. You dropped Juice back off at his place with a quick thank you and a promise to reach out to him later. As the two of you drove back to Happy’s you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat but you didn’t say anything about it. You knew that he probably had his fair share of questions, and you certainly had your own, but right now all you wanted to do was get back home. All of the questions and the conversations could wait until later, preferably until tomorrow. You didn’t say anything as you drove, but it didn’t stop you from reaching over and resting your hand on top of his on the console, careful not to touch the scraped and bloodied parts of his wrists where the rope had been digging into him only a little while before.
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averagewriter777 · 1 year
Text
Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)
Masterlist
(Part Five)
“So, what do you usually drink, (Y/n)?” The question was asked by Gaz to break the awful silence in the car. (You’d think the radio would at least be playing some music- but nope!)
You fumbled with your fingers. “Well… I’ll drink anything, I guess. But I feel like my drinks are mood-based, you know?” Soap raised a brow towards you. “Okay- let’s just say that I’m down in the dumps, feeling miserable… I’ll open a bottle of scotch or whiskey. If I want to get wasted- which hasn’t happened for a few years, I’ll take some vodka or tequila. If I’m out drinking with friends and they’re having shots, I won’t join… because that’s a hangover and I fucking hate those- probably have a margarita or two. If I’m trying to flirt with a man, it usually works for some reason- I’ll order a sex on the beach… and he’ll get the memo.” You stopped talking when you realized Gaz, Soap, and Ghost were staring at you. “What? Told you it’s mood based.”
“We’re having some shots- you won’t drink them?” Soap said, albeit disappointed in his tone. You shrugged, then shook your head. “Damn, found our designated driver then. Hope you know how to drive around in this country.” You didn’t, but you’d figure it out. 
Everyone took a seat at a table in the corner. You and Soap were in charge of grabbing drinks, mostly because you wanted something different- as did Ghost. (The man was also still wearing his mask, something you were confused about, but didn’t ask about) Soap ordered a round of tequila shots, a bourbon for Ghost, and you surprised him by ordering Fireball whiskey.
“No margaritas?” He chuckled while carrying the tray back to the table. 
You almost snorted into your glass but remembered you were also carrying Ghost’s drink, so you held it back- not wanting to spill it. “Not tonight. You’ll witness me order a margarita when I feel more at home. My old team made fun of me for ordering those. Nice try there, Soap.”
“Call me John,” he said while setting down the tray. Everyone took their respective shot glasses and immediately downed them.
Ghost took his bourbon glass from your hand, lifted his mask, then took a small sip of it. You took that moment to look at his jaw and lips- because you were curious. Your gaze snapped away when his eyes lingered over on you. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Of course,” you raised your glass a little then took a sip. The whiskey burned in your mouth, but you didn’t flinch. “Why don’t you drink with them? Tequila’s a good time if you have enough of it… until the following morning.” You raised the glass to your lips again, watching Ghost sigh.
“Johnny told me once it tasted like dog piss. Seems like he’s changed his mind.” Ghost shrugged and took a sip of his bourbon again. “And I prefer bourbon, no matter what. Dark drinks I seem to enjoy the most.” He looked at what you were drinking. “Didn’t you say you only drank whiskey when you were miserable?”
You set down your glass and rubbed the edge, wondering if you should say anything. Both Soa- John, and Price told you to be careful… “Well, I’ve got a daughter at home. This was a poor time for me to deploy. Her birthday is tomorrow, she’s turning six.” Your brows furrowed. “A ‘friend’ has her gift ready… but I was hoping to give it to her this year. The last time I was there for something important was her first words and steps.”
Guess you didn’t realize you were being emotional as well as crying a bit, because Ghost had reached across the table to put one of his gloved hands over your own. “It’ll be alright. We’ll make sure you get to give her a call, okay?” You nodded and rubbed under your eyes then let out a shaky sigh. “Now, let’s go get you a different drink. You’re right about it being emotion-based.”
- (At the table while you and Ghost are at the bar)
“So, what do you two think of (Y/n) so far?” Price asked while staking his third shot glass on top of the other two. 
Soap added to the pyramid that Price was creating with his shot glasses. “Good woman, good medic too. Seems to be getting along with the team alright too.” He looked over at the bar, gesturing to you and Ghost, who were talking while waiting on your new drink. “Ghost has warmed up to her quick.”
“That’s probably the most surprising out of all of this,” Gaz said while scratching the back of his head. “Work-wise… she’s good. Can’t wait to see how she handles a weapon- she was a monster on that training mat.” He almost cheered out loud whenever there was an almost-win against Ghost- but this wasn’t a wrestling match, so he kept it to himself. “I wouldn’t be worried about her on the field so far.”
Soap was going to add something, but he shut his mouth when you and Ghost started walking back to the table. You raised a brow toward him but decided not to say anything. “Y’all are out of shots? That was fucking quick, need some more?” The men shrugged as if they weren’t opposed. “Right then, I’ll take these…” You gathered up the tower of shot glasses that Price and Soap created, put it all on the tray, then made your way back to the bar.
When you were out of earshot, the three men turned to Ghost, who went back to drinking his bourbon. Once he noticed he was being watched, he set his drink down and sighed. “What.”
“Just wondering what you think of Sergeant (Y/n) so far,” Price said calmly as if he was talking to a ticking bomb. “It looks like you’ve warmed up to her thus far, are we correct about that?”
Ghost grunted and picked up his glass again. The look in his eyes told Price that he did indeed not want to talk about it, but they were correct about it. “She’s alright,” he admitted. He wouldn’t say anything more, not to his drunk companions. “Excellent sparring partner… good medic too.”
You were back within that second, holding that *last* round of tequila glasses for the group. When everyone picked up their glasses and raised them to the air, Ghost included, you went to do the same. “To (Y/n) and the 141!” Everyone repeated what was said and took their shots. You and Ghost sipped your glasses- you shuddered when sipping yours this time.
“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve had bourbon.” You set the Old Fashioned down on the table and looked at Ghost, who was smiling into his glass. “Don’t laugh- that’s fucking rude.”
Ghost *probably* raised a brow at you. “You drink whiskey and every other drink out there… but bourbon is the one that makes you cringe and shudder? That’s all.” You took another sip, lifting your middle finger not-so-subtly at the same time. “That’s no way to talk to your lieutenant.” His smile had fallen, but it remained in his eyes.
You nearly choked on your drink. “I’m sorry- that’s your rank?” Ghost shrugged, and also made a face that said ‘you weren’t told?’ “Price didn’t tell me. Shit, sorry.” With that, you decided it was time to call it a night. “Alright, how the hell are we paying for this?” Ghost pointed to Price, who was taking out his wallet- but was struggling. “Alright, give me one second…” You remembered that Price had given the bartender the card at the beginning of the night.
“Closing your tab?” He asked. You nodded and folded your arms on the counter while you waited for the receipt to come up. “It was under… Price, right?” You nodded again and clicked the pen you were given. “Alright, here you go… just sign and you’ll be good.”
You weren’t sure how Price signed his name, so you just made up some scribble- kind of like a doctor’s scribble. It was similar to what your signature was, just with different letters. And you left a hefty tip, based on what everyone drank, that is.
“Thanks, have a good night!” The bartender was grinning at the receipt as he put it back in the drawer. Guess you left a good enough tip.
Back at the table, Ghost was getting everyone to get off their asses and out the door. You asked him on the way out why he doesn’t just drive since he only had that one glass of bourbon, but he shook his head. “I don't like driving. I’ll tell you where to go… you just go from there.”
A/N: That’s right. He’s a shit driver. Everyone has seen how he drives- right? That’s it. That’s just it. But he wouldn't tell you that, not yet at least.
(Part Six)
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Text
Okay, so continuing my Red Dead Redemption 2/Sons of Anarchy comparison (I’m only up to chapter 3 of RDR2 so this is subject to change):
1) Dutch Van Der Linde is Clay Morrow. They are the leaders who are growing increasingly erratic.
2) By default, Molly O’Shea is Gemma Teller. I guess the one thing they have in common is being a pain in everyone’s ass.
3) John Marston and Abigail Roberts are Jax Teller and Tara Knowles. John and Jax are the protagonists/irresponsible criminals who want to be family men. Abigail and Tara are focused on protecting their children. And since I played the first game, both couples are trying to leave the criminal life.
4) Arthur Morgan is a loose combination of Chibs Telford and Opie Winston. They’re the closest to a brother figure to John/Jax and they’re the second-in-command of the team. Arthur also has Opie’s bad luck with romance. (Hmm…I guess Arthur could also be Bobby Munson as well for these reasons)
5) Hosea Matthews is Piney Winston. They’re the old guys who keep questioning Dutch/Clay’s authority.
6) Micah Bell is sorta kinda Tig Trager. They’re the weird, aggressive guys who seem to get on the rest of the team’s nerve. But I like Tig, whereas Micah is annoying lol.
7) Kieran Duffy is Juice Ortiz. They’re the perpetual outsiders since they went against the team.
8) Sean MacGuire is Kip 'Half-Sack' Epps. They’re the little shits who are trying to prove themselves and the gangs treat as the youngest brother.
9) Leopold Strauss is Bobby Munson. This is solely because both men handle the finances of the gangs. For a comparison that’s closer to the character’s personality…maybe Charles Smith? Or Javier Escuella?
10) Sadie Adler doesn’t have anyone I can really compare to but if I had to choose, she could also be Opie Winston. She has Opie’s burning desire for revenge after losing their spouse.
11) The O’Driscolls are the Mayans MC. They’re the rival gang that isn’t so different from the main gang.
Also, just to emphasize how RDR2 is secretly a Western Sons of Anarchy, here are the lyrics to SOA’s opening:
Riding through this world all alone
God takes your soul, you're on your own
The crow flies straight, a perfect line
On the Devil's Bed until you die
Gotta raise some hell, 'fore they take you down
Gotta live this life
Gotta look this world in the eye
Gotta live this life until you die
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dailyfigures · 1 year
Text
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Sachi ; Sword Art Online ☆ Alice Glint
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queermentaldisaster · 12 days
Text
"Shoulda Been Dead A Long Time Ago"
Chapter two is finally here! This chapter was a mess to figure out, but I just went with the way I did "The Hunt Is My Muse".
No chapter warnings!
The Reactor
“One minute!” the jumpmaster called, as Simon watched Soap and Gaz push the crate into position, his eyes hidden by the mask made out of his companion. His eyes were locked on Soap's biceps and the way they strained, the way the light glistened off the sweat.
“Tight!” Soap called out, and Simon snapped back to reality, focusing back on the task at hand. Don’t get distracted now Simon, Ghost gently reminded him. ‘Oh, yeah, like you weren’t staring either.’ Simon responded, and Ghost went silent.
“Crate’s all good to go,” Gaz said, patting the top of it.
“That’s our gear on the ground if we need it,” Simon reminded them, readjusting his hold on his gun, Ghost’s thin tendrils wrapping around it to keep it in place.
“We will.” Price muttered, as the jumpmaster hit the button to open the ramp. The alarm sounded and the ramp opened, as Price looked back at the others. “Pull altitude is 2000 AGL!” He called out.
“Cuttin’ it close!” Soap called back, grinning over at Simon, who grinned back under the mask as Gaz lightly punched Soap in the arm, grinning.
“That’s how we do.” Gaz said, and Simon straightened his back, pulling his shoulders back a little.
“Roger up at the rally point,” he said, and Gaz responded with a simple “check!” as Soap gave him a fist bump. The crate flew out, and they jumped out shortly after, each of them deploying their parachutes at the right moment.
“Watcher-1 to Bravo,” Laswell’s voice crackled over the radio. “ISR is overhead. Be advised, Konni has three helos on the ground. Locations marked with orange smoke.” Ghost snarled in Simon’s head. Monsters, every last one of them. Simon made a vague sound of agreement. ‘Terrorism is a nasty business. Just one of the worst aspects of humanity.’ He responded, before responding to Laswell verbally. “Extract points for the nuclear material.” He muttered.
Soap jumped in with a snort. “Aye Lt, tha’ much was obvious, ye daft numpty.” That caused Ghost to purr happily, and Simon’s heart swelled slightly, before Laswell cut back in, clearly annoyed.
“Affirmative,” she said, and Ghost snickered. “Those helos are your primary targets. Destroy them and we can keep this threat contained.” Simon let out a grunt of affirmation, as he spoke. “Roger. Moving to overwatch.”
As he landed, Ghost spoke up. Do we need to be stuck on overwatch? they asked, before its voice took on a whiny tone. I’m hungry, Simon. Simon sighed, turning off his side of comms. “Once we get the helos taken care of, then we’ll make sure to take a few of these bastards out.” He promised.
Alright, Ghost muttered, but I don’t have a good feeling about this place, Simon. Watch our back. Simon nodded. “Always.” Then he turned his side of comms back on, only to hear Price’s voice.
“-Ghost, you picking up radiation spikes?” Simon held up the little device, much to Ghost’s chagrin, and checked. “Negative. All the helos scan clear. Should be safe to use explosives on em.” His symbiotic companion scoffed. I could’ve told them that, he said, putting emphasis on ‘I’. Simon chuckled.
“Copy,” Price responded, before informing them that he’d found an armaments cache. Laswell responded, then Soap chimed in. “We’re at our primary set points.” 
“Konni in sight,” Gaz responded in a whisper. “Working to secure perimeter.”
“Work quietly until the captain kicks things off,” Simon ordered, getting down on the ground and setting up his sniper rifle.
“No promises, Lt.” Soap’s voice came over the radio, and Simon rolled his eyes. “That’s an order, sergeant.” He responded, and hints of Ghost slipped into his voice. “Be careful.”
“Aye, Lt, ye got it.” They could hear Soap’s cocky grin from here. “Ah’m nae gonna make a peep, ye have mah word.” Simon smiled fondly, letting out a slightly bitter laugh. “Well you’re already failing, sergeant.”
Soap’s voice took on a more sensual tone. “Aye, well…maybe ye could…shut me up?” Simon let out a soft sigh at that, but let Ghost creep back into his voice. “Maybe later, sergeant. For now, keep your head in the game before I make you lose it.”
Soap went dead silent after that, and they let satisfaction swirl in their stomach, knowing they'd likely flustered him.
Gaz cleared his throat, speaking up. “All stations, we're seeing Konni patrols on the outer perimeter. They're searching the area.” Simon’s eyes narrowed. Both him and Ghost had a bad feeling about this…
•✧-----------------------------------✧•
Soon enough, that feeling turned out to be proven right, as Price yelled out on the comms. “This is Six! Reactor’s sealed, I’m trapped inside!” Simon cursed, taking out a couple of Konni soldiers who’d surrounded him, rushing for the reactor as the others yelled at each other through the comms. Ghost quickly enveloped him, their only thought to get to the Captain. Ghost ripped off a couple heads, as they quickly made their way to the reactor.
“Konni wasn’t after nuclear material…” They vaguely heard Gaz say, and had just enough sense to respond in Simon’s voice. “Never were.”
Soap’s voice crackled over the comms, breaking them out of their panic. “Chems were stashed ‘ere.” Ghost retreated back into Simon’s clothes, as Simon began running up the stairs to the reactor, joining Gaz and Soap. They took out more Konni soldiers, and Simon watched as Soap slammed his gun into one of their heads, and threw them off. They got to the top just as Price spoke again.
“There's no cover up here! Gas is closing, Bravo, what's your status?”
“We’re up top!” Gaz said, dropping a rope down.
“Grab the fuckin rope!” Simon yelled. From there, it was a blur for both of them. They remembered a disfigured Konni soldier trying to pull Price back down, they remembered watching Price pass out and Gaz call Laswell for medevac. They were running on pure survival instinct, and nothing else.
They remembered the moment that Price started breathing again, they remembered the relief all of them felt. But most of all, Simon remembered seeing Soap looking guilty, as if he should’ve been the one in the reactor instead of Price. Simon remembered how Ghost had wanted to curl around Soap and shield him from the pain and guilt.
•✧-----------------------------------✧•
Simon watched as Price came to. Soap nodded, giving Price a smirk. “Mornin’, sir.” Gaz handed Price a headset, and Price nodded, putting it on.
“Take it easy, Cap. You beat the gas, but you still need some time to recover.”
“I’m fine.”
“Got a headache? Nausea?”
“Always.”
Gaz nodded, turning to Soap and Simon. “He’s good.”
Soap nodded, crossing his arms. “Was worried your face was gonna melt off like those other poor bastards.” Simon chuckled, looking at Soap. “If ya ask me, it’d be an improvement.”
Price chuckled, before his face turned serious. “Konni got away with the chemicals?”
Simon nodded. “Affirmative.”
Price let out a curse. “Makarov’s been out of prison for six hours, and he’s already ahead of us.” Simon looked to the side. Those assholes! They almost killed our captain! Ghost mentally yelled. “The fuck is in that gas?” Soap demanded, looking at Gaz. “Remnants of Barkov’s program.” He explained.
“Sarin?” Soap asked. Simon nodded again. “Highly concentrated…and far more lethal.”
Gaz let out an annoyed breath. “One pod contaminated the whole area.” He said, which caused Soap to curse. “They made off with enough to kill a whole country.”
Price spoke up. “Right now, it’s in Farah’s backyard. We have to warn her.” All three of them nodded, and went silent.
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marleyelona · 12 days
Text
Beautiful Redemption
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Beautiful Redemption
(THE PORN STAR)
"Redemption lies in the beauty of second chances."
In which; Wendy Case's baby sister finds herself drawn to a particular man wearing the reaper.
Status: ongoing
22/04/2024-present
SOA: S2-
Chibs Telford x fem! oc
Starring: Giorgia Whigham (Avery Case) and Timothy Olyphant (Stanley Case)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. All rights go to Kurt Sutter, FX and any others that made this amazing show possible. I do, however, own my character, Avery Case, and any other OCs I might add in the future, along with their backstories and their storylines within the show. I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work as their own in anyway.
GRAPHICS: I MAKE the majority of the gifs that are used throughout this book, including the ones on this page. On occasion I will use gifs I find on google, which I will clarify. Any gifs I haven't made, all rights should go to the creators. I also DO the collages, covers, tags and trailers that are made. The majority of the pictures are made by A.I imaging.
⚠️WARNING 18+⚠️: violence, coarse language, mental health issues, domestic violence, abuse, possiblity of sexual abuse and/or rape, gore, fighting, drug and alcohol abuse, criminal activity, guns, sex work, large relationship age gap, death or talks of death, inappropriate racial slurs (things said in the show) and detailed sex scenes will appear in this book. If any of these are a trigger for you, please take caution if you decide to continue. 
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CHAPTER ONE
Family Matters
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[ Small Tears ]
"I think it stems from my raging Daddy issues."
~ AVERY CASE to CHIBS TELFORD
AVERY'S OUTFIT
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THE HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM buzzed with the muted sounds of whispered conversations and the occasional beep of medical equipment. Luann Delaney, the matriarch of the porn industry, hovered over one of her girls, Avery Case, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. With a gentle touch, she dabbed at Avery's bloody nose, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"It's gonna be okay," she assured her with a gentle tone. "Just tip your head back a little bit. I don't think it's broken.
"Wait a minute, hang on to that," Luann instructed, passing the tissue to Avery, before her attention shifted to the entrance.
Two figures strode into the room, their presence commanding attention. Jax Teller and Chibs Telford, members of the notorious Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club.
Luann wasted no time addressing the newcomers, her voice tinged with anger, "I told you not to stir things up. Look what that asshole did to her," she admonished, gesturing towards a bruised and battered Avery.
Jax's eyes widened in shock as he rushed to kneel in front of Avery, his heart sinking at the sight of her injuries, "Holy shit, Avery," he breathed, his voice heavy with concern and guilt.
Luann's curiosity piqued as she observed the interaction between Jax and Avery, "Wait, you two know each other?"
Jax nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving Avery's battered form, "Yeah, she's my ex-wife's baby sister," he confirmed, his tone laced with regret. "This was Caruso?"
Avery confirmed Jax's words with a nod, her voice strained with pain, "Yeah, little prick," she muttered, her eyes locking with his.
Jax's expression softened as he gently brushed Avery's hair out of her face, his heart aching at her words, "Oh, God, darlin', I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't even know you were still in the game. I thought you were at school up in Nevada."
"The old man's got a crank debt the size of Indiana Hills," Avery explained her predicament, the desperation evident in her voice. "I gotta pay it off or they'll kill him, Jax," she confessed, her words weighted with the burden of responsibility. "I mean, he was a shitty father, but he doesn't deserve to die."
Jax's anger flared at the mention of Avery's father, his fists clenched in frustration. Stanley Case was not a good man, he abused both Avery and Wendy throughout their entire childhood, both mentally and physically. He abused both alcohol and drugs, putting them first before his own family, which usually resulted with him going to prison for short periods of time on and off, or to disappear for months on end, leaving his daughters to fend for themselves.
But Audrey had a heart of gold, which made her very naive at times, always falling back into old patterns. She believed everyone deserved a second chance, so that's what she gave her father time and time again, which got her into some pretty sticky situations. Unlike Wendy, who had cut off their father years ago.
"So, he's resorted to letting his little girl get rear-ended in front of the camera?!" Jax spat, his eyes blazing with fury.
Avery shook her head, "I don't do that shit anymore. I mainly do solo work, with the occasional blow job," she admitted, her words heavy with shame.
Jax's anger continued to simmer beneath the surface as he processed Avery's words, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution, "There's gotta be a better way," he insisted, his voice laced with determination.
"This is the quickest way to pay back Darby," she said with a sigh. If she had a choice she wouldn't be doing this either, but she didn't want to find her father dead in a ditch one day.
Jax's expression softened as he reached out to gently examine Avery's bruised face, his heart breaking at her pain, "Shit, Aves. What did this animal do to you?" he whispered, his voice laced with concern.
"Tell them what Georgie said," Luann interjected, urging Avery to repeat the threatening message from Georgie.
Avery hesitated, before revealing the extent of Georgie's threat, her words a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in their world, "He told me to tell Luann that if the little biker boys show up again, he's going to roll the cameras while he jams his dіck up all your asses," she recounted, her voice trembling with fear.
Jax's features hardened as he vowed to take action, his fists clenched in silent fury, "I'm gonna go fuck this guy up. You alright?" he asked, his concern evident as he searched Avery's eyes for reassurance.
Avery nodded, a flicker of determination igniting within her despite the pain, "Yeah, I'll pull through," she affirmed, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her.
Jax pressed a tender kiss to Avery's cheek, before rising to his feet, his gaze lingering on her form with a mixture of affection and determination, "I'll catch ya later, darlin'," he promised, his voice a solemn vow as he prepared to face the threat head-on.
Luann's voice cut through the tension, her tone a mix of warning and concern as she addressed Jax, "Jax, don't you do anything!" she admonished, her words a desperate plea for restraint amidst the escalating chaos.
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?!" Jax roared back, his face full of fury. "He came after my family! Now, it's personal! Get her patched up! Call the rest of your talent, tell them to lock their goddamn doors!" he commanded, his voice echoing with authority.
As Jax and Chibs prepared to leave, Luann's voice echoed with a note of apology as she recoiled, slight fear over taking her features at Jax's outburst.
"Should we call Clay?" Chibs asked, moving in toe with his V.P.
"Nah, I'll handle it. I need you to make sure she gets home. Keep her safe," Jax replied, motioning to Avery, who was now being comforted by Luann once more as the tears of pain and fear started to overwhelm her.
"All right, Jackie boy," with a nod of understanding and a pat on the back, Chibs accepted the responsibility, his gaze unwavering as he watched Jax depart, before heading back over to Avery and Luann.
***
Stepping through the doors to Avery's upstairs apartment, Chibs' eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight before him.
The apartment was dimly lit with flickering fluorescent lights, casting shadows on cracked walls. The air was heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes and mildew. Rusty pipes groaned in protest as water dripped from leaky faucets. Outside, sirens wailed in the distance, punctuating the constant hum of urban decay.
Although, despite the neglect, the apartment displayed a sense of home with mismatched furniture arranged in a cozy layout. A threadbare rug covers the worn linoleum floor, and faded curtains hung from the windows, attempting to soften the harsh sites of the rough streets. Despite the cracks in the walls, framed photos and knick-knacks added a personal touch of Avery.
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"Thanks for dropping me off and walking me to the door, Filip," Avery said as she closed the door behind them, discarding her bag, phone and keys on the kitchen counter.
"Anytime, lass," Chibs said, his Scottish accent filling the air. And Avery wasn't going to lie, she found the sound of his voice very attractive.
While Chibs came to lean on the kitchen counter, his arms folded over his chest, Avery pulled the fridge open, grabbing herself a water, before offering one to Chibs, who waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head.
"But if you don’t mind me asking," Chibs started to say, observing the blonde closely as she came to sit at the dining table cross legged. "You seem like a sweet girl, how do you end up sucking dick for a living?"
Avery choked on a mouth full of water at the abrupt question, placing the bottle of water down in front of her, she let out a sigh, before replying, "I think it stems from my raging daddy issues."
Chibs chuckled, a smirk crossing his face as he shook his head in amusement.
But Avery's expression was dead serious, "I'm not kidding."
All amusement dropped from Chibs’ face at the girl's words.
"I got into the escort business right out of school," Avery started to explain, a hint of sadness etched in her tone. "My mum took off when I was a baby. And my dad was in and out of prison, and when he wasn’t, he was never really around, so it was just me and Wendy. If we didn’t work, we didn't eat, we didn't bath - It kept the lights on. And as time went by I just got deeper and deeper into the industry."
A sympathetic expression crossed Chibs' face as he felt a pang at his heart for the young woman, "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"I'm not," she retorted, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly at Chibs' surprised expression. "I know where I come from, and I know who I am. Sometimes life deals you a rough hand, and you do what you have to do to make it through. We all have our own deck of cards to play. Isn't that why you wear that kutte?"
A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, nodding his head in agreement, "I guess so," he said, striding forward and pulling out a chair, before taking a seat across from Avery.
Avery watched him cautiously with a hint of confusion, "You don't have to stay, you know. I'll be fine," she assured. "Jax is being way too overprotective."
But Chibs didn't even attempt to move as he simply leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, "I think it's best that I do, they might come back."
"If you insist," she said, making it to her feet. "There's beer in the fridge, help yourself. I'm gonna shower," she declared, starting to remove her clothes right in front of him without a care in the world, before heading into her bathroom.
Chibs’ eyes widened as he watched her go, her bare ass on full display.
But as Avery pushed the door close, a crack remained, so Chibs was able see her through the mirror.
Seconds later, the sound of the shower running filled the air, a steady cascade of water against tile echoing softly through the room. But moments later, Chibs' ears caught onto the distant murmuring sound of a girl moaning. His interest piqued as he leaned slightly closer to the door, still seated on the chair in the dining room and as he turned his gaze to the bathroom mirror once more, he caught sight of exactly what she was doing with that damn shower head.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Chibs cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face as he readjusted himself in his pants that seemed to have become very tight all of a sudden.
***
The door to the clubhouse closed behind Avery as stepped inside behind her brother-in-law.
Jax's mind raced with plans and possibilities, each thought a puzzle piece in his quest to protect those he cared about. Yet amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one idea shone brightly like a beacon of hope.
Turning to face Avery, Jax's gaze softened with a newfound determination, "Avery, listen to me," he began. "I know things are tough right now, but maybe there's another way of doing things."
Avery's eyes flickered with curiosity, a glimmer of hope stirring within her weary heart, "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Jax took a step closer, "I want you to come work for the club," he explained, his words measured yet filled with sincerity. "We could use some extra hands behind the bar at Samcro parties. And Mum can always use a hand with paper work at TM."
Avery's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her mind struggling to comprehend the offer before her, "But what about my dad's debt?" she questioned, her stress evident in her tone.
Jax's gaze locked with hers, "I'll talk to the guys, see if we can work something out," he promised, his voice filled with determination. "Maybe we can use some of the money earned at parties to help pay off your old man's debt faster."
A flicker of hope danced in Avery's eyes as she considered Jax's offer, the prospect of freedom tantalisingly close, "You'd do that for me?" she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Jax nodded, his expression filled with unwavering certainty, "You're family, Avery," he affirmed, his words a solemn vow. "And family takes care of each other."
A smile tugged at the corners of Avery's lips as she reached out to grasp Jax's hand, her touch a silent expression of gratitude, "Thank you, Jackie," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion.
With a reassuring squeeze of her hand, Jax offered her a small smile, his heart filled with hope for the girl's future, "I'm gonna get you out of the life, Aves, I promise you that."
***
AVERY'S OUTFIT
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The dimly lit bar buzzed with the soft murmur of conversation as Chibs settled onto a stool, his weary frame sinking into the familiar embrace of the worn leather. Avery stood behind the bar, her movements fluid as she worked with practiced ease, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she caught sight of Chibs.
"What can I get ya?" she asked, her voice warm and inviting as she met his gaze.
"A whiskey neat, darlin'," Chibs replied, his brogue soft yet filled with warmth as he returned her smile.
As Avery served him the drink, Chibs took a sip, the smooth burn of the whiskey warming him from the inside out. Yet as he savored the familiar taste, Avery's words cut through the air like a knife.
"So, did you enjoy the show?" she asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
In shock, Chibs spit out his drink, the amber liquid splashing against the bar as he struggled to regain his composure.
Avery couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, her laughter a melodic sound amidst the chaos of the bar, "I could see you watching me earlier," she admitted teasingly.
Chibs cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he met Avery's gaze, "I'm sorry, lass, but you didn't exactly close the door."
Avery shrugged, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes, "Yeah, I'm so used to people watching me. It doesn't really affect me anymore," she confessed. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. But I guess it was just the adrenaline - I needed a release."
Chibs nodded understandingly, his expression filled with empathy, "No judgment here, lass," he assured her. "You do what you gotta do."
Avery smiled gratefully with a hint of cheekiness to it - Chibs could tell she was going to be a hand full.
"You want another?" she asked, her voice warm and inviting as she gestured towards his empty glass.
"Aye, love one," Chibs replied, his voice filled with gratitude as he handed her the glass.
As Avery took the glass from Chibs' hand, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through both of them. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, before they both brushed it off, returning to their roles with practiced ease.
With a small smile, Avery served Chibs his drink, the warmth of their brief connection lingering in the air like a promise of something yet to come.
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A/N:
23/04/2024
This is a possible fanfiction that I want to write, so if you enjoy please let me know and I will definitely continue this story.
~ Marley 😄
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garbinge · 1 year
Text
Chalk Drawings
Happy Lowman & Juice Ortiz & Platonic!Reader Jax Teller & Teller!Sister Reader Opie Winston x Teller!Sister Reader
Day 22 from these April Prompts: Chalk Drawings
Summary: When Happy and Juice are on protection duty and the AC is broken you and the kids take to the outside to escape the sweaty prison that’s Jax’s house as you wait for your brother and partner to come home. 
Words: 1.9k 
A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.
Warnings: pretty fluffy (for me and my writing lol), reader has a daughter with Opie (no name given), no use of Y/N, slight angst/tension, alludes to death/murder slightly, nothing that’s not canon-level. 
SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​
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It was a beautiful summer afternoon, the sun was shining, there were fluffy clouds in the sky that were shaped like cotton candy. The only downside was that the California heat had no mercy and apparently neither did Jax’s air conditioner. It had broken early in the morning and by the afternoon the whole place felt like a sauna. Fans and open windows did nothing against the real feel of 93 degrees and there were only so many popsicles you willingly wanted to give to all the kids. This is what brought you outside on the driveway that had been covered by shade all day so it was luckily not burning hot. You had the full Winston x Teller group today, Kenny, Ellie, Abel, and your 3 year old daughter with Opie. The club was in partial lockdown due to business with the Cartel. Partial lockdown usually just meant no one was left alone, everyone who was someone had protection on them, which meant it was easier for people to stay in groups. Hence why you had all the kids right now. Gemma was out with Tara grocery shopping for the house and had taken Tig with them just to keep a close eye. This left you with Juice and Happy while Jax and Opie went on a run together with a few of the other guys. 
The sprinkler was going on the grass, something for the kids to run through if they got too hot, but currently the group of them were on the driveway drawing with chalk. Abel and Kenny had paired up leaving your daughter to rest in between your legs with a piece of chalk in her hands while Ellie sat to your left doing the same. You started doodling with one of the pieces of chalk that was scattered along the driveway to pass the time as well while Happy and Juice leaned against their bikes, keeping watch all of you. 
“You wanna get your hands dirty?” You held up the pink piece of chalk and called out to the two bikers. 
Juice was quick to smile but deny the request, his way of trying to look tough. You clocked it immediately because just yesterday he was eating a spongebob popsicle off the ice cream truck when he was the only one on your watch detail. 
“Yes I do.” Happy said instantly and eagerly as he pushed off his bike. He was quick to grab the chalk from you and begin doodling on the pavement. You thought you’d be shocked at his instant agreement to join you on the ground with the pastel art tools but surprisingly, it was exactly what you expected. Happy knelt on the pavement, one knee touching the ground while the other was being used as an armrest for the arm that wasn’t creating a chalk masterpiece. 
“C’mon Juice.”  You nodded your head to wave him over. 
“Yea, c’mon Juice!” Your daughter called out with a smile. 
You smirked at that and so did Juice as he walked over to you both. The little girl in your lap holding out the pink piece of chalk up to the biker. 
“Thanks,” His smirk not falling as he grabbed the chalk from the girl. 
“S’my favorite color.” She beamed at you and said the color’s name to show how smart she was. “Pink.” 
“It’s Juice’s too.” You teased and patted to the free space next to you as he shook his head and blushed. “Show me what you got, Juicy.” 
He started drawing stick figures, graffiti words, tribal drawings like his tattoos. 
“Can you draw me a flower?” Your daughter was quick to crawl out of your lap and sit in front of Juice. 
“I can try.” He began to try and draw some version of a flower, although it was looking more like a blob. 
“That’s not very good.” She tilted her head and frowned at it. 
You called out your daughters name, a warning to be nice although it didn’t do much. 
“Why does your hair look like that.” She asked as she drew over Juice’s flower creating her own masterpiece. 
Juice practically spit out the sip of water he just took at the girl’s question. 
“Why don’t you go see what Abel and Kenny are drawing, huh? Go ask Happy your questions.” You interrupted to give Juice a break. The girl shrugged and skipped her way over to the other group on the driveway. You knew Happy could handle the questions and would give them right back which entertained her. 
“Can you teach me how to draw that?” You heard her voice behind you as she stood over Happy’s shoulders. 
“I sure can.” He nodded and handed her the yellow piece of chalk before the sounds of the chalk hitting the pavement filled the air.
“Mommy look!” She called out and you turned to see the tons of smiley faces drawn on the ground, some smiling, some crying, some grinning. Your eyes jumped to Happy and back to the drawings a few times. No one came out and told you what Happy’s name meant, but being a Teller you had been around the clubhouse enough to see Happy hit the ring which meant seeing the array of smiley tats across his lower abdomen. It didn’t take a genius to put it together. 
You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or be mortified, the kids had no idea what it meant but there was a part of you that felt like there was something eerie about it. 
“Nice drawings.” Your eyebrows raised at him with a smirk as your nostrils flared. 
Happy smiled, oblivious to your sarcasm and nodded.
The sound of motorcycle engines filled the air, but there was no sign of who it was yet. Happy and Juice quick to stand up, Happy picking up your young daughter while you got up as well. He handed the girl to you before walking to the end of the driveway with Juice. As you situated the girl in your arms you began to walk near the garage door and called the rest of the kids over to you. There was a pit in your stomach, you grabbed your nephew and placed him behind you and told Kenny and Ellie to do the same as you guided them as well, using yourself as a human shield to them as you typed in the code to the garage door. 
The bikes got closer and as the sound got louder so did your thumping heart. The garage door was taking its sweet time to open, you tried your best to keep your wits about you as to not scare the kids but it was hard when Happy and Juice were reaching for there pieces. 
“Let’s play a game!” Your head snapped to the kids as the garage door opened. “Go inside and we’ll play hide-n-seek! Only rule is you MUST stay in the house. You hide and I’ll find you!” 
The kids giggled and immediately ran inside the house, your daughter wasn’t eager to leave your arms to play so you kept her in your grip, her head rested on your shoulder which soon dropped in relief as you saw the reaper on the bikes that were approaching. You recognized both bikes, your brother and Opie’s. A breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in let out and you closed your eyes in reassurance. 
Happy and Juice fell back quickly too, their relief looking a little different than your own. As both men pulled up to the curb and backed their bikes up, you started to walk down the driveway. Opie walked over to Happy and Juice likely to fill in the crew on what had just happened while Jax walked up to you. 
“You look like you just saw a ghost.” His long blond hair blew in the hot heat as his smirk grew. 
“I thought I was about to become one.” The only reason you let the joke out was because within the few minutes of your daughter being in your arms she had fallen asleep. 
He frowned and picked his hand up to tuck your daughters hair behind her ear. 
“I’ve been on edge, heard the bikes.” You shook your head and looked down. 
“We figured it all out, we’re fine, you’re safe.” His eyes jumped from yours to the girl in your arms, “all of you.” 
Jax’s eyes looked down at the concrete to see the chalk drawings on the ground, clocking the smiley faces immediately and let out a chuckle. 
“Really, Hap?” Jax called out to the man who smiled and nodded. 
At this point, Opie was walking over, his tall body standing over you in seconds as he placed a kiss on your head. 
“Hey, you okay?” His brows furrowed picking up on your tension. 
“We spooked her.” Jax teased you as he pinched your elbow. 
Opie’s eyes moved back to yours looking for confirmation. 
“I’m fine.” You argued and looked up to Opie who smiled knowing that the sibling rivalry was coming through in your short worded sentence. 
“Where the kids?” He asked still smiling. 
“Inside, I told them we’re playing hide-n-seek if you want to go find them.” You knew both men would pick up on the fact you told them to hide and probably why but before either of them could get to the bottom of why you were so on edge besides the obvious, your daughter was stirring awake. 
“Look who's here.” You whispered to her as she sat up in your arms and you turned so she could see her father. 
“Hi Daddy.” Her voice was still half asleep. 
“Hi baby.” Opie’s arms extended out so he could grab her. “I drew smileys with Happy.” She rested her head against his shoulder in an attempt to go back to sleep. Opie looked down at the pavement and then back to you. 
“She also asked Juice about his haircut.” You crossed your arms. 
“It looks funny.” She said still at a mumble causing Opie and Jax to laugh. 
“I think it does too.” Jax started to walk inside the house. “Ready or not, here I come!” He called out but you knew he was going to grab a drink and a snack from the kitchen before he started to look for the kids. 
“I guess next time we’ll keep Hap with us.” Opie teased as you both started to walk inside while the sound of Juice and Happy’s bikes started. You turned to wave goodbye to both of them before looking back at Opie as you made your way into the garage. 
“Nah, he might be insane but he’s good with the kids and having him around actually puts me at ease.” 
“If this is you at ease, I’d hate to see you tense.” Opie teased you again as the garage door closed. 
“Why don’t you and this jelly bean here go look for the kids.” Your arms still crossed as your eyes rolled. 
“You wanna go find Abel, Ellie, and Kenny?” Opie bounced up and down to wake up his daughter. “I’ll give you a popsicle if you find them all.” His voice raised as he incentivized the girl who was suddenly wide awake. 
“Let’s go!!!” She kicked as he placed her down and she hit the ground running. “C’mon Mom, let’s go!!!” She called out to you. 
Opie smirked and threw his arm around you, “yea, let’s go.” 
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
Note
I loved the self insert (?) waking up in MW!
Because I had a similar fic that I lost from my old blog.
But it was 100% stealing the concept from Sword Art Online, where you’re playing in a virtual reality simulator game that’s MW. You had the choice to play as an enemy or ally to the 141 and various other teams.
And the “characters” are acting like actual people which is weird. They start talking about things. But when you try to take your headset and gear off, it won’t come off.
So now you’re stuck in this game as the enemy of the 141 and need to figure out how to escape. Because it seems there is no longer respawning. If you die. You die.
oo! only ever heard of SOA (cuz i refused to watch cuz i'm an edge lord) but that sounds intriguing!
Id take it the smut route because WHY NOT??
listen if i get caught by literally anyone of the 141 i'm folding like a wet paper towel. all self respect would evaporate from my cells.
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casualsheeteater · 10 months
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Window To The Soul
GhostxSoap
Just a drabble of how I think Soap would realize he's in love.
TW: None :) Just fluff!
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Soap's Ma always told him that the eyes were the window to the soul, and since he was kid, Soap had watched and observed, gazing at other's eyes whenever he got the chance. He found that they could tell quite the story.
Often men in his field would have eyes, still lit with /something/, Price, his eyes were mellow, dark pine tones, but a harshness that would spring up in them whenever things got serious. Like the bright sun setting behind cold jagged mountains, leaving something frighteningly empty.
Gaz, was more like honey.
A neverending buzzing of bees, flitting about, occasionally interrupted by splashes of chocolate, and a golden glow, like sunflowers bordering an aok forest.
But Ghosts?
It was hard to tell due to his mask, usually. The lighting obscuring his gaze, but not the feeling that came along with it, like a dozen knives being simulatenously pierced into your flesh whenever it would flick to your figure. Soap was used to it, and in fact came to be comforted by the feeling.
It'd happened, only once, Soap got to peer through /his/ window.
They were sitting on a bench, outside, enjoying the fresh air. Soap doesn't even remember what they had been talking about, it'd been forgotten quite quickly. He'd glanced over, Ghosts attention being caught by something. And his head tilted just so, the late evening rays had touched his pupils.
Soap couldn't help but stare.
It was a cold, shivery blue. Dark, and swirling like ocean waves, repeatedly crashing upon a beach, with a current so strong it could pull you under.
And pull you under it did. Soap was transfixed, drowning in the sight before him.
The glass panes and shutters were cracked and broken, but still /there/. They stood strong, battling against the onslaught of waves.
Soap found himself wanting to see a stream spill off from that ocean, as if attempting to empty a bit of itself, despite it's vastness.
Ghost turned back again, and all of a sudden Soap could breath again, those icy blues freezing over the ocean currents once more, the water now stagnant.
He felt a shiver go down his spine.
"Ser..ant-"
The mask moved but Soap could barely hear a sound, a persistent ringing in his ears, as his eyes were a bit wide, just staring at his Lieutenant.
"S..p"
The man in front of him moved closer, brows furrowing and cutting off the bit of light that was left. Soap was staring at an empty room.
"Soa.."
The ringing grew louder, his breath hitched as his heart thudded. He'd never felt anything like this before. Was this what cardiac arrest was like? His body felt, not his, but a shell, something he was viewing. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, entirely transfixed on that window, as the glass rattled as it slammed shut.
"Johnny."
He blinked, one, two, maybe three times, before he regained control over himself.
"Ah."
"You alright there?"
"Aye. Daydreamin'.."
The other man only huffed in amusement, shutting his eyes for a second, and only now had Soap realized just how close the other was. His face only a foot and a half from his.
When those windows opened again, he saw it cracked open, just a tad, as if the curtains had been moved aside, /just for him/.
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