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littlexdeaths · 1 month

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whiplash - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

warnings: teeny tiny violence, reader has a panic attack, eddie is the sweetest, eddie and reader are in college

a/n: this is absolutely inspired by my first experience being shoved into a mosh pit at an avenged sevenfold concert when i was a wee teen. i hope you enjoy xx.

also shout out to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with the title and some of the dialogue, and my bby @undead-supernova for beta reading for me. ILY BOTH SO MUCH 💕

hot, sweaty bodies were pressed against you at all angles, nearly suffocating you. at this point you couldn’t even see the band playing on the stage, a sea of taller bodies now blocking your view.

when your best friend asked you to attend a metallica concert with her you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

but this definitely wasn’t it.

the small venue was packed, the air filled with the smell of sweat, marijuana and cigarettes. your choice of a leather jacket felt incredibly stupid as it was now tied around your waist due to the growing heat surrounding you.

your palms felt clammy as they clutched onto the hem of your friend’s shirt. the constant moving of the crowd seems to pull her farther and farther away from you. until the swirling pit of metalheads swallowed you both whole, losing sight of her head of blonde hair instantly.

your panicked shouts of her name were drowned out by the screech of an electric guitar— your body now being shoved around to the chants of ‘pounding out aggression.’ the song eerily fitting as you see a ringed fist connecting with another man’s jaw.

your heart is beating in your ears, that familiar feeling of panic washing over you as you continue to be shoved around like a rag doll amongst the group of men. until you somehow landed on top of someone… who had been knocked to the ground moments before you.

before you have time to react a large hand quickly wraps around your forearm, yanking you up and out of the dizzying circle of death. you all but let the stranger carry you through the crowd. the male shoving past throngs of people until you’ve safely reached the back of the bar.

you barely register his voice as you lean against the brick wall, chest rising and falling at an embarrassingly fast rate. your eyes squeeze shut as you attempt to get your breathing under control. those same hands that pulled you out now resting carefully on your shoulders, helping to ground you.

“hey sweetheart, you alright?”

his face finally comes into focus as you blink your eyes open, your heart now beating against your ribs for a completely different reason.

he was painstakingly gorgeous, full lips lifting up into a soft, dimpled smile. “there she is— hey man can i get some water?”

he slaps his hand on the bar top, the clear liquid sloshing out as a glass is slid over to him. his chunky rings clinking against the side as he grips it, now holding it up to your lips. “it’ll help, trust me.” you gladly take the glass from him, gulping down the lukewarm tap water.

“thank you…” you mumble, setting the now empty glass back on the bar and wiping the corners of your mouth. mentally forcing yourself to stay put, despite the bigger part of you wanting to run out of the bar from sheer embarrassment.

“are you here by yourself?” he asks, as you shake your head in reply before resting it against the brick wall behind you. the brunette seems to be studying you as you take in some slow but shaky deep breaths. letting yourself do the same as your heart begins to return to a normal rhythm.

even in the muted light you can see his dark curls were damp with perspiration, bangs sticking to his forehead. no doubt from being in the middle of that pit for quite a while. his cut off band tee showing off an extensive collection of tattoos. that soft smile morphs into a small smirk, as you realize you’ve been gawking at him.

calming breaths long forgotten.

“you can g-go back out there… w-wouldn’t want to keep you from the show.” you fumble over your words, now finding the sticky floor and your beat up sneakers far more interesting than the gorgeous metalhead before you.

the male chuckles, casually resting his shoulder against the wall next to you. his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, “not a chance sweetheart. until we find your friends, you’re stuck with me.”

you glance back up at him, surprise crossing your features. knowing most people would gladly leave you behind in the shadows, especially considering the band that’s owning the stage. that sentiment alone makes the butterflies raging your insides flutter even faster. the chaos of the crowd is now forgotten as he grins sweetly down at you.

“i’m eddie by the way.”

the music has seemingly gotten louder since the two of you left the crowd, now having to shout your name back in reply despite the lack of space between you. his smile only widens as you turn to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest. “and what is a fair maiden like yourself doing in a place like this?”

you can’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips as he gestures dramatically around the dingy bar before his dark eyes are back on you. “oh no reason at all… just needed a study break.” he can tell from the ride the lightning t-shirt adorning your frame that you’re teasing him, but he plays along anyway.

“so you stumble into a random metal concert, only to get caught in a circle of death? that’s quite the break sweetheart.” he nudges your foot with his own, earning another giggle from you. “something like that, yeah.”

he hums in response, running a hand through his unruly curls. “duly noted— i’ll have to take study breaks like that more often,” the two of you quickly fall into easy conversation, no longer paying attention to the concert goers surrounding you.

despite having only met him less than half an hour ago, you both seem quite comfortable with each other. any embarrassment from your small panic attack now a fleeting memory as he tosses his head back with laughter. the sound warming you from the inside, out.

“gotta say i’m a little shocked, first show and you’re already hitting the pits like a pro.” he jokes, leaning in a little closer to you. the scent of his spicy cologne washes over you, making your head spin, “practically took that guy out by sitting on him.”

you groan in embarrassment, playfully shoving his shoulder as he laughs again.

“i’ll have you know i’m quite fond of the music… just not the…” you gesture towards the sea of bodies that are jumping, shoving and headbanging to for whom the bell tolls. “moshing?” he finishes for you, as you nod sheepishly.

before he has a chance to say anything else, a loud squeal fills your ears as a body slams into you at full force. nearly knocking you over in the process, “there you are babes! i’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

earlier you would’ve been relieved to hear your best friend’s voice, but now you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. hoping your emotions aren’t written across your face, but she doesn’t seem to notice. she’s a little too preoccupied with staring at the male leaning next to you.

“now who is this?” her tone is overly playful, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively. before she can embarrass you further, you elbow her in the ribs. effectively stopping anything else from leaving her mouth besides a little huff.

“eddie munson, certified mosh pit rescuer at your service ladies.”

he does a little half bow, causing both of you to break into a fit of giggles. “wow… a modern day knight in shining armor huh?” she teases but seems impressed nonetheless, “wish i had a hot guy to pull me out of there, i basically had to army crawl my way out.”

even in the shitty bar lighting you can see his cheeks are tinted pink from her compliment, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “it was nothing really, just happy to help.” he shrugs before pushing himself off the wall, sliding his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.

“modest too? where did you find him?” she gushes, gently bumping her hip into yours. “and does he have a brother?” she whispers that part to you, ignoring the way you roll your eyes at her.

“well i see you’re in good hands now sweetheart, i hope you enjoy the rest of the show.” as he turns to leave you feel your friend shove you forward, giving you a look that screams, ‘are you insane? don’t let him get away!’

“eddie wait!” you shout, gently tugging on the male’s wrist before he gets too far. that dimple making another appearance as he turns back to you, “miss me already?” eddie teases, fully enjoying the flustered look that crosses your features.

“i uh, i-i’d really like to thank my knight in shining armor properly… maybe over coffee?” you nervously chew on your lower lip, praying that you didn’t read this entire interaction wrong.

but seeing his face light up squashes any doubt, watching as he grabs a pen off the bar. holding the cap between his teeth as he takes your hand, scribbling his phone number onto your palm with a satisfied grin.

“looking forward to it sweetheart.”

he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before disappearing into the rowdy crowd.

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💛

@babygorewhore @hellfirenacht @thepurplelovewitch @impmunson @voyeurmunson @madelynraemunson @take-everything-you-can @corrodedcorpses @serasvictoria @munsonhoneybaby @splendiferous-bitch @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs

all dividers made by yours truly 💕

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson meet cute #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic

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seryueeeee · 7 months

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☆ 𝕲 𝖍 𝖔 𝖚 𝖑 – P R O L O G U E //

ʚ ◠◠ An Alternative universe of Resident Evil 4. Leon was tasked to retrieve the President's daughter; Ashley Graham. Stumbling upon mysteries that were bloody, scornful, dehumanizing and eerie, his plan was to get his shit together, return with Ashley in the US, safe and sound and take a break. But to his dismay, he ought to meet someone who he thought was humane. But was also like one of those monsters– although the creature was capable of thinking rationally and wasn't immoral.

⊰⁠⊹ฺ

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 The world had gone mad. Phenomenons that aren't normal were already scorching the state. Humans had turned into blood curdling undeads who feed on people, and bioweapons spread like crazy across the Earth. It was like God was causing a riot down here, a battlefield for his own subjects, Leon wasn't pretty big on religion, but ever since then; the shitty things that had been happening around, he started blaming it against God; everything unlucky that happened in his life, it was all aimed to the almighty– if anything, Leon felt weak, this commotion was sending his headache in a pitiful hysteria, what he wanted was a safe place away from all the atrocities that would set ablaze.

Focusing on the bigger picture, Leon scanned the parameters; with the baby eagle following him from behind. The sound of the storm pattering against the mud and the squelch of the dirt as they walk, pinpointing their way out of the island– they had just defeated the almighty Saddler, and was left surrounded by countless Ganados and armies of bioweapons.

“C'mon Ashley, hurry up!" Leon scurried, holding the gun tightly in his hands as he made sure to look behind– the blondette followed along as they ran from danger. Exhaustion targeting every muscle in Leon's body as they stormed away, trying to keep himself up, but the excruciating pain just kept getting worse.

Suddenly, a loud screech and a howl echoed against a distance, and the ground rumbled, Leon and Ashley wobbled as the air fogged with dust. Leon hurriedly shielded Ashley while trying to make out any footsteps or an unknown presence; another loud roar thundered the scene, as blood and remnants of the Ganados bodies littered the area, and a horrifying situation played out in front, it was a battleground between creature to creature.

A man dressed in a bodyfit turtleneck and suspenders, with black baggy pants and combat boots. On the man's lower back, there were tendrils like tentacles that prodded from his lumbar vertebrae, it was scaly, patches of scales that looked like spikes– three of the tendrils were shaped like centipedes and had limbs like one, it was sharp, pointy enough to dice anyone in half, but the real question was why was it killing the Ganados?

The unknown man clad in black was mercilessly killing the Ganados, blood splattered everywhere like paint, as he tore their flesh, a neutral expression was present on his face as he danced against corpse of the undead, Leon can feel his heart beat like crazy, praying for any kind God out there to save them– whether this man is an ally or a foe, he can kill any being in a matter of seconds with those limbs that grew from his lower back.

It felt like ages, staring at the man as he finished hundreds of the Ganados without breaking a sweat, analyzing his own work; blood painted his hands and the tentacles on his back. The unknown man slowly shifted from where he stood, his slightly overgrown hair danced with the musky scent of the air, tucking a strand behind his ear. Slowly turning around, Leon scanned the latter's face; plump, dried lips, eyes that looked so devoid of life and emotions, eyelashes that were long and fluttering, his brows furrowed, knitted and stroked in a straight fine line. And a face shape that could arouse any men and women.

The federal agent was stunned, either because of the strange man's beauty, or because of his meticulous performance earlier, Leon's breath hitched; and slowly the exhaustion hit him like a break as he limped down

"L-Leon! Are you okay?!" Shouted; Ashley as she assisted the blonde from falling. "I.. Ashley.." Leon muttered, as the fatigue finally kicked in– unable to keep himself further as he blinked to a deep slumber, everything fell silent once again. Leon remained still in the shell of his own thoughts, he stayed ignorant of his surroundings, it felt warm, almost as if someone's running a heating pad down his forehead, Leon wanted to wake up but his body seemed to disagree with his wishes. He could only hope for a living being to come and save them in time.

⊰⁠⊹ฺ

#leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon re4 #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #bottom male reader #male reader insert #x reader #resident evil #re4 remake

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misslavenderlady · 3 months

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Just The Two of Us 💕

David/Marko (smidge of Dwayne/Paul on the side)

Summary: Marko loves David more than anything in the world. Whenever his lover needs him, he's there by his side. Through good times and bad.

I would like to thank @silvermaplealder for commissioning me for this fic! Marko and David are amazing together, and I was honored to do this as my first ever commission! Please reach out to me if you'd like to request something as well!

WARNINGS: Mentions of sadness, jealousy, insecurity and poverty

Vampires were surprisingly social creatures, despite their reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters. They needed the company of other vampires as they faced a life of immortality. To walk the Earth without the companionship of other vampires would cause severe damage to the psyche, leading to a severe depression. Having a coven was the ideal way of life for a vampire, and the Lost Boys were no exception.

Marko in particular was fond of his beloved gang of biker friends. It seemed not too long ago he was on the run in the streets of Italy, constantly juggling between evading the law and finding work so he wouldn't starve. It was a hard life, but it changed for the better when David came into it.

Though his undead heart no longer beat in his chest, Marko still remembered clearly how it thumped faster than the hooves of a running horse when David looked his way. A stunning figure of platinum hair and eyes of icy blue. He certainly stood out against the crowd, and it wasn't just because of his vampiric nature. The moment the two laid eyes on one another, Marko knew he wanted to be by his side forever. How lucky he was to know that "forever" was quite literal for their kind.

He would do absolutely anything for the man he loved. No questions asked.

This night in particular would prove that sentiment.

Marko had woken later than the others for once. He was hanging upside down in the rafters all alone, with the mere whisper of a draft greeting his ears. Curious, he dropped down from the ceiling, gracefully landing on his feet in order to go searching for the others. Every night was an adventure when you were a Lost Boy, and he wanted to see what tonight would bring.

"Helloooooo~!" he called out to the open air as his boots stepped against the floor of the lobby. His voice echoed outward, scattered across the walls with nobody to hear. Not even the sound of music from Paul's boombox could be heard, which was most certainly odd. Curiouser and curiouser.

Determined to find his friends, Marko relied on his other senses for clues. He took a deep breath in, trying to find a possible trace of the signature scents each of the boys had. Dwayne's cologne and Paul's weed were a bit fainter, meaning they had most likely gone out for a head start in causing debauchery for the night. Still, one scent was still fresh and close.

David's cigarettes.

The blond vampire followed a wispy trail of smoke, climbing over their treasures and furniture so he could make his way to an opening in the cave. Sure enough, his hazel eyes caught sight of a familiar figure all dressed in black, leaning against the stone exterior.

"David!" Marko called out, a smile stuck on his handsome face. Though he never went a night without seeing David, he was always ecstatic to see him. "Whatcha doin' out here? You never step out of the cave for a smoke."

Though David was one for clever quips and mischievous words, he didn't seem to be in his usual mood tonight. As Marko got closer, he saw a bit more clearly how deflated David's posture was. His head and shoulders hung low and his hands were loose, barely hanging onto the cigarette, as if he didn't care if it fell into the dirt before he could finish. Goosebumps stood up on Marko’s arms as the fear of something being wrong with his mate.

“David?” he repeated as he stepped a bit closer.

The platinum blond let out a sigh, his whole body slumping more than it had been already. He turned around to meet Marko’s eyes, greeting him with a rather somber expression.

“Evening,” David said to him.

“What’s the matter, love?” Marko asked, reaching out to place his gloved hands on David’s cheeks. The hairs on his face scratched along the leather material.

David leaned into Marko’s touch, already feeling far more relaxed than he had been before.

“You mind if we walk and talk on the beach?” David asked. “I could use some fresh air.”

Marko didn’t have to be asked twice. He would walk to the ends of the Earth if David asked him to. But a slow stroll across the sand would do for now. Marko removed his hands in order to wrap them around David’s arm instead. The two vampires nuzzled close together as they walked together. They had made a fair amount of distance away from the cave before David finally spoke again.

“It’s rather dumb. Something I should even be bummed out about…”

“Try me.”

David truly wasn’t one to deny the requests of his beloved mate. Marko was a feisty little vampire, but was fiercely loyal and full of warmth whenever they were together. It made his undead life a little bit brighter. Like having the embrace of sunshine once again.

“It’s Dwayne and Paul…” he explained. “They’re on a date. But not just any date. Tonight’s the night. Dwayne’s gonna pop the question.”

“Holy shit, really?” Marko exclaimed. His hazel eyes glimmered at such exciting news. “That’s awesome! He’s been planning this for months. We’re gonna have to celebrate when they get back!”

Though the curly haired vampire was bursting with excitement at the idea of his two best friends getting married, he was surprised to find that David didn't share that same level of thrill. His smile was soft and his shoulders still slumped.

“Something tells me you're gonna give me a downside to this.”

“Yeah…” David admitted. As he continued his walk, he turned away from Marko’s gaze. Blue eyes scanning over the smooth waves that kissed the shoreline.

“I've been thinking a lot lately. You and I have been together the longest. We've seen almost an entire century of life. And yet…I feel like I've barely done anything for you.”

Marko was perplexed by such a statement. He tilted his head slightly to the side, a few of his golden ringlets falling off his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean….well damn, look where we are!” David said, gesturing a gloved hand across the beach. “We've been chased by police night after night, we steal everything we own, and we don't even have a proper home. We all live in a cave like a pack of wild animals.”

A snicker escaped Marko’s lips as he watched his mate grow distressed at such an idea.

“David.”

“Marko, no,” David interrupted him. He stopped in his tracks, grabbing hold of Markos hand as he gazed into his eyes.

“I'm being serious right now. We're poor. I have nothing to give you. Dwayne’s been working hard to provide for Paul and the ring he got, but he shouldn't have to. I'm our leader, goddammit. You guys should have everything you could ever want or need. We should all be living like kings in a castle, not living in a cave.”

A deep ache radiated through Marko’s toned chest. He had never seen David so vulnerable before. Though all of the boys were close enough to be open and honest with one another, there were still secrets and feelings that they weren’t always comfortable sharing. Personal demons that haunted them even as they made the most of their new lives. David in particular guarded his heart the most, so to see him become so distraught was a big surprise.

Marko never wanted to be the cause of a broken heart for David. If his beloved leader was putting unnecessary pressure on himself to give Marko more than he already had, then he would make it his personal responsibility to fix that.

“David, amore,” Marko cooed, squeezing David’s hands in his own. “Why do you feel like what you’ve given us isn’t enough?”

“Because….you’ve given up so much to live this life. I know I act like it’s the easiest decision in the world, but it’s not,” David sighed. “What if you had lived a better life without me? You could have been a famous artist. A singer. Made millions and had a big family. And I took that chance from you. You live in a home made from rocks and dirt with no chance of seeing the sun again.”

David’s hand trembled terribly in Marko’s grasp. The younger vampire could feel the gloved fingers tensing up, as if David was fighting back the physical reaction of his distraught feelings. He certainly didn’t want to show weak, teary eyes as a leader, even if Marko would understand.

Silence hung in the air between the two of them. Nothing but the rolling pattern of the waves greeted their ears. Marko’s head spun with possibilities of what he could possibly say or do to make things right. Let’s run away together. Let’s get married too. Let’s break into a house in the hills and make it our own. Let’s burn Santa Carla to the ground and build our own kingdom on top of its ashes.

Truly, the vicious nature of his vampirism made his ideas more and more chaotic. But Marko realized that wasn’t right for such a moment. Deciding not to think much harder about it, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around David’s body. A hug. Sometimes the simplest gesture was the best.

David stood in silence, letting out a surprised gasp at such an action. Marko didn’t shy away from sensual touches and brotherly play fights, but something sweet, like a hug, wasn’t something he gave often. Of course, David returned the favor by embracing Marko as well.

“Do you remember when we met?” Marko whispered in his lover’s ear. “How I was nothing but skin and bone, living on the streets with none of my family left?”

“I remember how much food I bought you at dinner every night to help you bulk up,” David said, softly smiling as the memory returned to him.

“You saved me. I wanted to be rescued, and you heard my call. You promised to love and care for me for literal eternity, and not a day goes by that I don’t feel happy that you did that. My life was changed for the better, amore.”

The two blonds pulled back on their hug so that Marko could nuzzle his face into the skin of David’s neck. When David began to run his fingers through the curly ends of his hair, he was practically purring in the delight. It only furthered the point he was trying to make about David being good to him.

“My life got so much better too, Marko,” David sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty about not having more for you.”

“I know. But I would be perfectly happy if I spent every day for the rest of my life in that cave. Because while it may not seem like much to you now, you know it’s our home. We’re all together and happy, and that’s what truly makes it our home. I don’t ask for anything else, David.”

If David’s heart could still beat, it truly would be racing. Hearing the man he loved say such meaningful things made him feel like that baby bat of a vampire again. Head over heels and having their dates every night. Their first kiss was on one of the beaches of Italy.

It only made sense for him to give another kiss on this one.

David’s pointer finger and thumb curled under Marko’s chin, tilting it upward. The two vampires melted into one another, tightening their embrace as they kissed passionately under the moonlight. Though David stressed so much over what he couldn’t give Marko and the boys, all he thought about now was how lucky he was to just have them by his side.

Everything was going to be okay. It didn’t matter how much money they all had or where they traveled to. They were a pack. The Lost Boys. All they needed to be happy was each other. None of them would ever take such a thing for granted.

When the two of them pulled away, they rested their foreheads together, sighing in content from the bliss of their embrace. However, it didn’t last long, as a familiar voice shouting from the top of a nearby sand dune called out to them.

“GUYS!! MARKO! DAVID!”

The two vampires glanced over to find their friends out in the distance. Dwayne was standing still and proud, but Paul was bouncing up and down like a playful puppy. He was eagerly waving around his left hand and pointing at it with the other. Even in the darkness, they could see light flickering off of a diamond engagement ring that Dwayne had put on Paul’s finger.

“I SAID YES!! I’M GETTIN’ MARRIED!!” Paul shouted. “GET YOUR ASSES UP HERE SO WE CAN GO OUT AND CELEBRATE!!”

Marko and David chuckled in delight, amused by the reaction their friend got from his engagement. They nodded and waved back to the other two, silently promising to join them in a minute. Paul was off like a shot, grabbing hold of Dwayne’s hand and rushing back down the hill where they had come from.

“See? Looks like everyone got what they wanted after all,” Marko said to him, giving a little wink.

David smiled back at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. A big smile stretched across Marko’s face, unable to hide the joy in his heart at seeing David in a better mood.

“Yes, Marko. Yes we did.”

credit of artwork goes to @silvermaplealder

Tag List: @cryptic-michael @ghoulgeousimmaculate @oceansrose2002 @hypocriticaltypwriter @vampirefilmlover @bloodywickedvamp

#the lost boys #tlb #Lavender Lady Commissions #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys

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aziraphales-library · 16 hours

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hi :))

I'm wondering if you have any cozy ineffable husbands human aus that kinda fit autumn? also angst with a happy ending would be nice

thanks!

Okay, these are the fics that came to mind for stories with somewhat cosy/autumnal vibes and some angst...

Acts of Prayer by Nadzieja (Series) (M-E)

Crowley is not a priest anymore, he has buried that part of his past long ago. Yet, fate brings him back to Tadfield where he'll have to confront a ghost from his past he hasn't seen in a very long time (but whose face might as well be carved onto his heart). [A Priest AU, with *a lot* of angst and a happy ending.]

is there anybody out there? by theycallmeDernhelm (E)

Welcome to the zombie apocalypse. England has been overrun by walking corpses, everything's gone to hell, and the few survivors are scattered- among them, Crowley and his 11-year-old son Warlock. When Crowley's radio signal is unexpectedly picked up by another group of survivors, he finds himself falling, in a way he never thought he'd fall again, for the charming and kindly Aziraphale. Over three seasons and a tenuous radio connection, a romance develops between them, while a friendship grows between Warlock and Aziraphale's nephew Adam. Love isn't dead (or undead) after all.

The Scarecrow by AppleSeeds (M)

The last surviving member of his family, Aziraphale inherits a crumbling 14th century cottage from his uncle. Staying in the cottage to catalogue his uncle's collection of rare books, Aziraphale combats his loneliness by speaking to the scarecrow in the neighbouring field. He awakes one night to find the scarecrow in his bedroom, mouth torn open, speaking to him... Crowley was cursed by a witch and turned into a scarecrow over five hundred years ago, but somehow Aziraphale's presence is changing him into something more human. While Aziraphale works to break the curse completely, the two of them spend a great deal of time together and find something special within each other, both discovering what it truly means to be free.

in the house we remain by commodorecliche (M)

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Under Construction by summerofspock (E)

Crowley has one goal: sell the run-down lodge in the Cascades that his uncle left him in his will. He doesn't expect to meet someone like Aziraphale, the kind handyman working on his uncle's property who turns out to be more of an enigma than Crowley first thought.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #angst #mod d

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 2 months

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NSFT Alphabet: Antonio Paganini

@turbulentscrawl screaming wonderwall with me

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Antonio massages the sorest parts of your body (wrists, arms, hips, legs), and would draw a bath for you both to enjoy (def the type to enjoy stay intimately close). If the devil was in charge though, you need to supply the emotional aftercare, yes you may have granted permission but it is taxing on Antonio. Would def cuddle after sex and likes the weight of you on top of him, again likes skin-on-skin contact.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His face especially his nose, has a beautiful profile and he knows it. Hands but like Frederick is a man of his time and would like your feet too.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Realistic he has none, his body is technically undead`` So yay no cleanup (sorry ppl who like creampies) but unrealistically I wish he had glowly cum hbfvhbbvbv (devil skin and crescent knight)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is an older man and like Luchino and Alva he pretty open with what he likes (he is this way with your wants too be open about it)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

No virgin, there is no way this man didn’t get laid (ps though most of them was when he was drunk)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to be ridden

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Can match your energy with this so if you start giggling he will too (esp for those who are ticklish this is great!)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ngl prob a brush down there and you know it prob soft and you just touching it cuz wow it soft wtf

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Again bounces from your energy

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Stress masturbate probably or the devil does it (sir go get your own body!)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Foot fetish, bondage with his hair, spit in his mouth or he spit in your mouth, you pulling his hair

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Okay so if you are in-game with him, he might get frisky but not always but happens, has fucked in the music room (fuck off Frederick!), his or your bedroom

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Flirting can get him good, but so can deep conversations the type where you are genuinely trying to get to know him. There is something very intimate about that for a man whose whole life revolved around his talents and people being fake about their intentions with him. The deep connection gets him going and when you are expressing romantic intentions after awhile that gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Will say devil but he does not have a choice in that manner, it will come out and he hates it. It is complex and he fears one day hurting you-- The devil hurting you but again there is not much of a choice in this.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man, this man’s fucking nose, bye working legs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the mood he can be fast and rough or slow and sensual or between that or a damn tease; maestro just built like that

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Depends on the situation but not one for quickies (the devil is though)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Because of the Devil’s involvement, you need to expect risks. Whatever Antiono has, he expected to know he will be forced to share.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can go as long as you need him to go

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Use them on him, no really use them on him. I think it important to show him he can be safe and in control while being the one submissive. Show him is safe while using these and constantly be with him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You both need to be unfair but not too much there needs to be an endgame

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Antiono can be vocal, and you might even try to be quiet just so you can enjoy how pretty his voice is

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Looks at that Devil that trying to get in your pants….

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

IT GOOD OKAY (it got bigger)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Antiono has the average sex drive but then you got the hellion that is always ready to go so…

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t actually need to sleep but he does relax with you enjoying the peace

#idv #reader insert #idv violinist #idv antonio #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv x reader #antonio x reader #antonio x you #violinist x you #violinist x reader #antonio paganini #identity v x you #idv reader insert #the violinist #identity v violinist

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ficnation · 1 year

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“Your dad's an asshole” Part 1 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2918

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: It's a little bit different than the request, but I still hope you'll enjoy it :D There'll also be a second part to this which will focus more on the romantic aspect of Negan's son and Carl's relationship!

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

“Well, hello there,” the greeting that left your father’s lips was anything but friendly. The mere idea of it not being hostile to the people who killed so many of your men blew your mind.

You decided to keep your mouth shut when a glare of a blue-eyed man on the other side of the fence almost outmatched yours in its viciousness. You hopped out of the vehicle, yawning and murmuring something about having enough traveling for the next few weeks. There was nothing you hated more than sitting for hours in a metal can with nothing to do.

“Do not make me have to ask,” your dad said when no one moved to open the gate for him and your people. He shoved his hand deep into his leather jacket’s pocket and tapped his foot on the ground to hurry them up.

The blue-eyed man hesitated for a moment before sliding the gate open, but not without some resistance. “You said a week. You’re early.”

“How about you file a complaint, huh?” the words escaped you before you could catch them, gathering everyone’s attention.

A few of the Saviors whistled in amusement and appreciation. You quickly pulled the hood of your sweatshirt over your head with an unpleased groan and turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the trees on your left very interesting.

You didn’t get a kick out of people’s attention on you as your dad did. It was just one of the many differences between you and him. There were things you were confident in, but speaking up in front of a large group of people or getting applause for something you did just wasn’t it.

Luckily for you, the citizens of Alexandria didn’t dwell long on your words, and their fearful eyes quickly returned to your father. His smug grin already told you that he was proud of you for speaking up. You were his blood, after all.

When the distinctive growling sounded closer and closer, you could almost see the light bulb lighting up above your father’s head.

“Oh, Rick, come on out here.” He licked his lips in anticipation as he raised Lucille above his head and whistled. “Watch this.”

“I’m not a damn dog,” you mumbled under your breath, but obediently grabbed the bat out of your father’s hands, annoyance clearly visible on your face and in your voice.

The undead man stalked towards you with outstretched hands, excited to get a bite of fresh meat. You raised the bat over your head before swinging at the creature with an annoyed groan. The weapon hit it straight in the middle of its head. The barbed wire and force of the strike made a whole bloody mess of its brain. The blood and all the muck splattered over your clothes and the nearby car.

Negan burst into a deep chuckle at the sight. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy! My kid is doing some charity work for you here, Rick. You better remember that,” he said, winking at the man standing by the gate.

You rolled your eyes, handing the bat back to him and wiping the stray red drops off your cheek. Negan proceeded to give a cheeky little speech to the people from Alexandria, throwing a few threats their way and bowing at the end, almost as if he was waiting for applause.

He gave Lucille to Rick with a sly glint in his eyes before he stepped inside ASZ. He knew exactly what effect his actions had on that man. Rick Grimes was furious and afraid, but not for himself, for something far more important to him.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you have in the cupboard.” Negan gestured for you to keep close while he walked further into the town.

“We put aside half of the supplies.”

“No, Rick. No,” your father butted in. He stepped closer to the man threateningly. “You don’t decide what we take. I do. Tell him, boy! Tell him how things here work.” Negan turned towards you with a proud grin.

Of course, he wanted to include you in his weird power plays. He was throwing your existence right in their faces for reasons unknown to you. You thought it’d be safer for you if they didn’t know about you being their enemy’s son, but your father had different plans, like always. It was a shame he didn’t at least give you a heads-up before playing them out.

“It’s always been like that. He’s the boss, he decides what’s his,” you spoke up, shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t going to give them more than that; you weren’t your father.

After that, Arat yelled out for your group to get a move on, and they dispersed, immediately getting themselves busy searching through the houses.

Your father weaved you off to go and explore, maybe help out his men if you were feeling petty. But you knew the rules—the crueler you were, the more things you took, the more Negan’s approval you got. It wasn’t your thing, so you just planned to walk around and check out some of the places there. You were particularly curious about what weapons and how many of them did they have, but you also did not want to participate in the scavenger hunt, so you decided to just let it be.

After not even an hour, you knew you’d seen every interesting place in Alexandria, so you followed one of the random Saviors group searching through the houses. You didn’t take anything from the buildings, just walked around, curiosity peeked by the big suburban homes. The place was nothing like the industrial Sanctuary. It was beautiful and cozy, with the light colors of the furniture brightening the rooms. You could’ve lived in a place like that.

While you were checking out the upstairs of the house, you heard a commotion and an unfamiliar voice downstairs. Without a second thought, you ran down the stairs to find your people being held at gunpoint by a long-haired boy around your age. You looked at him in awe. He looked badass with his bandaged eye and the steady grip on the weapon. He also looked like someone you could get on with. Damn, it was a shame that your groups were on some kind of warpath.

The teenager popped the safety off. “Put some back or the next one goes in you,” he threatened.

“What do you think happens next?” one of the Saviors asked, looking at the boy in amusement while you took that as a sign to pull out your own gun.

“You die,” he replied with so much confidence it was surprising.

“No, you die.” You pointed your gun at his temple, cocking your head, very entertained by the situation. You weren’t sure if the kid had the balls to actually kill your guys over the medicine, but you were curious to find out.

The brown-haired boy slowly turned his head toward you at the sound of the safety clicking. He stared you off with that pretty blue eye of his. For a second, you wondered if he wasn’t this settlement leader’s kid. If that turned out to be the truth, then the chance of you becoming friends dropped to zero.

“That’s a standoff I didn’t expect.” Your father’s whistling cut through the tension in the room.

You turned your head to look at him and Rick, that stood at the entrance of the room. The leader of Alexandria walked over to the two of you, glancing between you and the other boy. It was easy to put the puzzles together. The one-eyed boy was his son. It was an accurate guess, seeing the fear and uncertainty in the man’s blue eyes.

Rick called his son’s name, reaching for the gun in the boy’s hand. “Carl put it down,” he warned him, looking yet again at the barrel of your weapon.

“No. He’s taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff,” he protested, raising his voice. His hand holding the gun started shaking slightly, and your eyes quickly caught that sight. Maybe he wasn’t as brave and badass as you thought, or maybe your father traumatized him so much that his presence scared the boy.

“Really, kid?” Your father stepped in front of Carl in amusement. The whole situation was probably pretty entertaining to him.

“And you should go,” the boy continued looking Negan right in the eye. “Before you find out how dangerous we all are.”

You snorted amused. Shit, you knew that with this sentence, the boy just fucked up. If Negan wasn’t pissed before, he definitely was now. You let out an exasperated sigh, tucking your gun behind your belt. You stopped listening to the conversation between them, your eyes glued to the blue-eyed boy.

You didn’t even pay attention when your father stopped talking for a moment before he commanded Dave and the other Savior to take away all of Alexandria’s weapons.

Your heart started beating faster when you took a closer look at Carl, who scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance. The whole time you were there, he gave you maybe a glance or two, desperately trying to show you that you were the intruder here.

You noticed your father staring at you with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, challengingly at you. His gaze went back and forth between you and the boy. When you finally met his eyes, he sighed loudly and shook his head disapprovingly. You rolled your eyes and scoffed lightly, turning around and walking away without sparing Carl another glance.

Your steps sounded too loud in the silent house, making you feel uneasy and a bit ashamed because of getting caught staring like a lovesick puppy at someone who was supposed to be your enemy. And damn, how did he manage to make such an impression on you? Why did you want to talk to him so much?

You sat by the little lake in the town, tangling your fingers in the cold grass and waiting for somebody to call you over and say you were leaving. You felt bored and out of place. You thought you would get out of the sunshine and rainbows town quicker. But it took a lot longer than you initially thought.

There weren’t many Alexandrians around the area, so you could let your guard down for a bit. The humidity from the water was refreshing, and you caught yourself breathing in deeply. If you could, you’d bring that lake back to the Sanctuary. It reminded you of your childhood and the days when your mom took you to swimming classes. However, the water there stank strongly of chlorine, so the air wasn’t as nice as this was.

When someone finally passed by you. It was Carl fucking Grimes. He walked right past you like you weren’t there, but you didn’t take it personally. He had no obligation to keep you entertained, and you knew that. You also knew that he probably didn’t want to have anything to do with you, but something drew you to him.

You waited until no one was looking before following him. If he noticed you behind him, he showed no sign of it for most of this short walk. His steps were long and rushed, and it should’ve been a red flag to you, but you decided to ignore it.

At one point, Carl stopped walking and looked around, searching for something. You noticed he was pretending. He did that to make sure you were still following him. And when he noticed you did, he scoffed under his nose. He kept walking, pretending like you weren’t there.

You noticed you were getting close to the edge of the town. There was no one in sight anywhere around you. Carl must’ve seen that, too, because he stopped and sighed, turning around slowly to face you. His expression had turned into a frown, and his eye had grown cold and angry.

“What do you want? Why did you stare at me, and why did you follow me here?” he spat the words at you, glaring daggers at you as if he wanted you to fall dead before his feet. He stepped closer to you, invading every inch of your space, forcing himself between you and the town. You took a step back, your back hitting the cold wall of the house behind you.

“No reason,” you muttered, trying to act nonchalant about it all. “Just wondered where you were going.” You tried to sound natural, which was hard, considering you were freaking out about being in such close proximity to him.

Carl stepped closer toward you, knowing you had nowhere to back away now. He glared at you again, and you flinched. “Yeah, right.” He scoffed once more. “Why does it matter?”

Your mind blanked at this sudden question, and you struggled to find an answer. “Well...” You glanced down at the ground nervously. “I haven’t seen anyone my age for so fucking long. I just thought we could talk for a while.” Your voice faltered at the end, your heart pounding against your chest. You swallowed thickly. You didn’t know what else to say.

“About?” he raised his eyebrow, waiting expectantly. You shrugged awkwardly.

“Whatever you want to talk about.” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping it would calm him down somehow. This was getting awkward and embarrassing fast. You weren’t used to people staring at you like they could read your soul with their piercing gaze.

“You’re pretty badass,” you blurted out nervously. You mentally slapped yourself for talking without thinking twice. Carl raised an eyebrow yet again, seeming unimpressed by your answer.

He stared at you, looking even more annoyed now than before. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. “Whatever. Just leave me alone, okay? You’re not welcome here.” With that, he turned on his heels and started walking away.

“Wait!” You shouted before you could think. He stopped and glared at you once again, this time with more malice than before. He looked ready to punch you. You gulped down some nervousness and continued speaking, trying to sound casual. “Look, I’m sorry I came after you. Like I said, I just wanted to talk.” You smiled sheepishly. “Can’t hurt to try, can it?”

Carl crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the brick wall beside you and studied you; his forehead furrowed in concentration.

For a while, neither of you said anything. You stood still, staring at each other intensely, waiting for the other to speak first. It felt like hours had passed before Carl finally broke the silence.

“Your dad is an asshole.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Yeah, he really is,” you admitted.

“A total douchebag,” he continued, but a hint of sympathy was hidden underneath the harsh words. You gazed at him in contemplation, but he wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead, he stared up at the sky quietly. He seemed lost in thought.

“He wants me to be just like him.” You shook your head and chuckled bitterly.

“That sounds like the sort of thing a douchebag would do.”

The corner of his lips twitched, and you almost didn’t catch it. Almost. Your heartbeat sped up in excitement, and you grinned. You liked seeing him crack a small smile, even though it was barely there. It made you feel warm inside and helped you forget how Carl’s eye flashed dangerously at you just a few minutes before.

“You have a pretty smile,” you blurted out, surprising even yourself.

The boy looked at you quizzically for a minute as if wondering what the hell had possessed you to say something so stupid. But then the corners of his mouth curved upwards into a shy grin, and that was all the answer you needed. You felt giddy and lightheaded. Maybe because of the fact that he was still smiling at you or perhaps the fact that he hadn’t yelled at you yet. Either way, you were grinning foolishly at the boy you considered an enemy just minutes ago.

You watched him as he studied the clouds. He was handsome, and the way his long brown hair framed his face made him look almost angelic. His blue eye shined in the sunlight, but there was something more: it hid loneliness behind its surface. It made you wonder if he felt just as lonely in this world as you did. Then again, you didn’t know enough about him to be sure if that was true. So instead, you focused on the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Do you think this could work?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Carl turned to you, eyebrow raised in question. “Well, I mean, if we became friends… Would it work?”

He frowned, considering your question carefully. “I’m not really sure.” He hesitated, “Maybe.”

You sighed, defeated. “Me neither. But it’s worth a shot, right?”

It took him a few moments before he finally agreed with you. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s worth a shot.”

You smiled widely at him, and he returned the gesture with one of his rare smiles. It sent an electric jolt through your body. You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the butterflies that swarmed your stomach.

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff

#the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x male reader #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #the walking dead #negan x son! reader #carl grimes x negan's son

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mephinomaly · 6 months

Text

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Prologue

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Time: Early March in the first year of ES’s establishment

Location: In a underground livehouse, one of UNDEAD’s haunts

Keito: (What is that?)

(What the hell is happening…?)

Rei: 『♪~♪~♪』

Kaoru: 『♪♪♪♪♪』

Koga: 『H！E！L！L！』

Adonis: 『S！I！N！G！』

Koga + Adonis: 『We are 『HELLSING』 ...☆』

Keito: I have no idea what’s going on—

HELLSING…? No matter how I look at it, that’s UNDEAD!

Rei: 『♪~♪~♪』

Kaoru: 『♪♪♪♪♪』

Keito: Oi! Listen up!

I know this isn’t a great time but I need to ask you guys something!

Adonis: —Hey. Oogami, Oogami, Hasumi-senpai is in the stage wings making a racket.

I am not sure how our senpais will react to this, so I think we should deal with him before something bad happens.

Koga: Nah, if somethin’ was gonna happen, it woulda happened by now.

Actually, I don’t want this important live t’be interrupted. Guess we’ll have t’see what he wants.

Oi, shitty glasses— Whaddya want?

Can’t you see we’re in the middle of rehearsal?

Keito: Let me make this clear first of all - I have no intention of interrupting your activities. I’m no longer the vice-president of the Student Council so I have no reason to be supervising the activities of problem children like you.

Koga: God, you fuckin’ know how t’waffle on and on. So why are you here if it’s got nothin’ t’do with us? Random person who looks good in glasses, whaddya want, hmmmm?

Keito: Well I don’t see how that’s relevant. We once donned the same costumes and participated in the same activities, and now we share an agency.

And that is precisely why I, as a representative of RhythmLink, have gone out of my way to come ask you this.

Your recent “peculiar activity” has become troublesome for the agency.

Therefore, I’d like to know what’s happening, UNDEAD.

Firstly-, what is “HELLSING”?

Koga: ...

Keito: Why are you keeping quiet, Oogami?

Can’t you explain it to me? After all, as you quite rightly said, you and I are in different units and are complete strangers who–

Adonis: Please wait a moment, Hasumi-senpai. I don’t think Oogami will be able to explain this very well.

Truthfully, we don’t really know what’s going on ourselves—

Koga: Shut it, Adonis. Yer actin’ like a parent who’s watchin’ their kid run their first errand. Stop addin’ unnecessary shit to the conversation.

Adonis: But, Hasumi-senpai will probably be able to offer useful advice—

Koga: Shut up! He fuckin’ said it himself, he ain’t got nothin’ to do with us anymore!

Now you’re actin’ like your our parents and tryna stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong! Stupid shitty glasses.

Keito: That was never my intention… I’m really– no, I mean, I’m worried about you.

I always end up imposing Oogami with heavy burdens that are my own responsibility.

Koga: Oi, don’t apologise! They told me to take it on, and you told me it was a lot anyway!

…Seriously man, don’t worry ‘bout it. HELLSING is just a different name we, UNDEAD, use on stage.

Recently, the hardcore rock image we use on stage versus the stupid silly image we use on like, variety shows is creatin’ a divert… divertent?

Adonis: A divergence?

Koga: Yeah, that! It’s creating a divergence in terms of how we present ourselves, so we thought that we could just use different names whether we’re on stage or doin’ our regular activities!

It’s like those mangas you fuckin’ love so much. They use different names dependin’ on what they’re doin’.

Keito: Umu… I suppose that’s true, as there are mangaka that operate under different pseudonyms based on if they are working on commercial materials or R-18 material.

Though generally, fans can tell from their art style that it is the same person.

Adonis: I don’t know much about manga but. Think of it as a parent company setting up subsidiaries, where each brand markets different things dependent on what activities they engage in.

Our, so to speak, immoral, radical activities will be handled by HELLSING, and our more friendly and palatable activities handled by UNDEAD.

Only what we do and the name has changed, the members remain the same. Me, Oogami, Sakuma-senpai, and Hakaze-senpai.

Keito: So what’s the point in doing all this…?

Koga: Shut uppp, there’s a ton of reasons. I get you’re a producer ‘n all but why’s it any of your business?

Keito: ...

Koga: …It’s whatever, alright?

This is what I wanted. To be honest, the fans are a little confused but everyone else is pretty happy with it.

I feel like I can actually breathe now I’m not bein’ forced t’do stupid varieties shows ‘n shit like that.

So that means it’s a good thing— all of it is.

I said it’s fine so everyone who says otherwise should shaddup!

『♪~♪~♪』

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 1

#ensemble stars #enstars #translation #UNDEAD #rei sakuma #kaoru hakaze #adonis otogari #koga oogami #keito hasumi #flackback #wooo undead climax woooo

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spiderton · 5 months

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patapon if it were tumblr or whatever

🪰 babyflies100 Follow

dni if you support the z/i/g/o/t/o/n kingdom the queen has done nothing but fuck everyones lives up. fuck you g/o/n/g supports too, nothing but bootlickers.

9,421 notes

🍗 dekawatcher Follow

ugh the way beetleton looked in the newspapers is sooooo cute! his hands kinda look like paws..

🦟 mantiosutio Follow

are we seriously idolizing the generals

1,943 notes

❤️‍🩹 mahopon12 Follow

hear me out

632 notes

🌾 shookletastic Follow

Just lied to a bunch of patapons about a mater seed when it was actually a shookle seed ❤️ good riddance

11 notes

🪲 gahahahagattan Follow

I keep getting boners when i look at my spider coworkers photos its fucking me up

5 notes

🦋 undead-butterflies Follow

I may be a patapon but I hope meden kills herself ❤️

32,642 notes

🪱 wormmens Follow

i think im seeing dettankarmen in my dreams man

0 notes

#patapon

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sepko1 · 1 year

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The Known Timeline of the Freeman Immortal

The end will always be Someone Else, but I like fleshing out the story of how the Gordon Geeman got there.

The First Days

The Employers are skeptical but are convinced by the G-Man that bringing the one and only Gordon Freeman into the fold would ensure incredible returns. Gordon, a hopeful glint in his eye, hopes to change things now that he has this power given to him. It’s a long road ahead.

Sacrifices

The Job is not without its drawbacks. You leave everything behind; who you were, who you knew, all that you fought for. But how do you leave behind the horrors and trauma that you’ve both created and defeated? How do you leave all that without seeing it to the end? These doubts begin to burrow in Freeman’s mind. He keeps a single token of the man he once was, a tool to be used, not unlike himself under the employ of the Syndicate.

A Final Word

The G-Man has taught Freeman all he knows, all Gordon can do now is go before their employers and impress upon them his value to the Syndicate. Something, however, isn’t right. The G-Man can sense it. There is no turning back, however, Gordon Freeman’s existence now rests in the hands of those even the G-Man dare not cross.

Seeing the End

The Employers are satisfied, but Freeman can’t ignore his doubts any longer. He needs to see how it ends. And so he goes, off the books, timeline after timeline. Win, lose, or stalemate, the end is always the same for him: Lying dead in a world that has long forgotten him. Something clicks, or maybe snaps, here.

The Downfall

The G-Man is dead. Freeman has stolen the power he needs to make more than just nudges to his destiny. His newfound power is overwhelming, and changes far more than just his fate. He massacres entire timelines trying to make things right, and neither the Employers nor the Vortigaunts know how to stop him. His mind faltering, fragmenting, he imprisons Alyx, controlling her Vortal Bond, the final piece for his attainment of ultimate power. The Vortigaunts finally find Gordon and invite him to talk in an attempt to dissuade him from this path. They tell him the power he’s accrued will eventually be the end of him, another prophesied death. He refuses. He is the Freeman Immortal.

Extinction

The Employers now try to bargain, Freeman refuses, and severs all links to their plane of existence. Seemingly out of options, the Vortigaunts wage war on the Freeman Immortal. His power growing, Gordon slaughters almost all of them. He begins to rebuild his universe anew, the man he once was now a distant thought. He shuts down timelines that might be a threat to him, ending countless lives. In a rare show of lucidity, he visits Alyx one last time, who manages to make him let his guard down just long enough for the Surviving Vortigaunts and an undead G-Man to find him. Freeman fends off G-Man but can’t stop the Vortigaunts from taking Alyx. Furious, the Freeman Immortal destroys it all, enveloping all of existence in a shattered white void. The Suriving Vortigaunts take advantage of this, trapping Freeman and reversing as much of the damage he’s done as they can. The Undead G-Man, the final act of the Employers, corners Freeman. The last thing he sees is Alyx turning her back on him. The last thing he feels is rage.

Epilogue

The Freeman isn’t dead, but he’ll never live again. Such is the contradiction of a man like him. His final resting place is somewhere far out of reach from his previous Employers, known only to Alyx and the Vortigaunts. There he will stay, forever in the darkness of the world he destroyed.

#hl #half life #half life 2 #half life alyx #sfm #source filmmaker #s2fm #source 2 filmmaker #gordon freeman #gordon geeman #freeman immortal #alyx vance #gman

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6lostgirl6 · 1 year

Note

Here’s the idea thingy 👉🏻👈🏻 like, s/o is dating Paul, and he’s scared of like letting them know that he’s a vampy boy. One night they go to a drive in or any movie theatre to watch an old monster movie. S/O feels bad for the lonely monster that gets killed off in the movie and makes it known (for example, “Aw noo, why did they have to kill him?? *sad face*) And then Paul probably feel like comforted in a way??? So It makes him feel that maybe he could tell them about his true self??

Monster Pt. 1

Paul x G/n!Reader

TW: few curse words

Never in all of Paul’s undead life has he ever been truly afraid of anything. Being the world’s most dangerous predator makes one believe that they are practically unstoppable. Well, perhaps when he would anger David with one of his pranks with Marko at times, that can be truly frightful. However, what he felt in this present moment was completely different.

He felt terrified.

He has felt that way since meeting you one night at the boardwalk. Man, you were an absolute surprise for him to find, a pleasant surprise. Stumbling across your own mate in your territory was something most vampires dreamt about when the concept was first introduced. Now, his mate was within his own grasp and your relationship was going amazingly well for the past few months. Still, you didn’t fully know him, the real him. The monster that walks amongst shadows and stalks their prey for survival. Your reaction for when he finally confessed to the creature was always on his mind since your initial meeting for the first time.

See, every vampire has a destined someone, someone that was made for them. Being a creature that walks the earth without the fear of dying or growing old as time passes can be incredibly lonely and whatever higher power has created these creatures granted them a chance at happiness. However, that special relationship was never guaranteed. Even though there is a special bond that connects a vampire with their mate, the pull can always be severed when either are rejected or the other dies before their initial meeting. Paul was afraid of that severed connection. He didn’t even want to risk the possibility, however it was inevitable. In order for your relationship to fully blossom, Dwayne’s words not his, he needed to be open about everything. So, during your date night to the movie theater is when he will strike.

Hearing the revving of a motorcycle outside your window brought a smile on your face as you finished the final touches on your outfit. Walking towards the window, you looked outside and chuckled at Paul sitting on his motorcycle and giving you a goofy smile, waving down at you from below.

“Come on, babe! We got a movie to catch!” He yelled. “Don’t make me come up there!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully flipping him off which made him laugh and do the same in return. “I’ll be right down!” You closed the window and proceeded to grab your stuff before making your way towards the front door. Checking over yourself once more in the mirror and you stepped outside, heading towards his bike.

Paul smiled at your approaching figure, his eyes practically sparkling at the sight of you. “Hey sugar, you look stunning.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss.

You returned the affectionate gesture, pulling away with a chuckle before he could deepen it further. “Thanks babe, and you make this one outfit you wear repeatedly look so damn good!” You said playfully, tugging on the lapels of his infamous jacket that you love so much.

Paul laughed before tugging you onto the back of his bike and glancing over his shoulder to look at you as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Thanks babe, I even had it pressed for ya.” He replied, turning away before speeding down the road towards the movie theater, smiling at the sound of your excited scream filling the air.

God, he hoped things would still be the same after this.

____

The movie theater was completely packed with people wanting to see the new horror movie that was recently released with Paul and you being one of them. Seats were being filled and luckily you both managed to find a secure spot in the back of the room. Set between you both was a bag of popcorn that Paul insisted that the both of you needed during the movie watch with his arm around your shoulder.

When the monster was finally revealed in an emotional battle between the monster and the protagonist of the movie you didn’t even bother to remember. The crowd cheered as the fight continued, both sides receiving brutal injuries from one another with anguished screams and monstrous growls. Finally, the battle ended with the monster on the floor, slowly losing its life as the protagonist went to rescue their love interest.

Paul watched the movie with profound interest, a smile tugging on his lips from the monster being slain. He glanced in your direction, however he was surprised to see the saddened look in your eyes and the frown tugging on your lips. He opened his mouth to ask you what was the matter when you suddenly spoke up,

“Why did they have to kill him?” You muttered to yourself, fresh tears gathering in your eyes as you continued watching the scene. “He can’t help the way he is!” You rested your head on Paul’s shoulder, making him tighten his grip around your own.

If Paul was alive and his heart was still pumping blood throughout his veins, it would have skipped a beat from your sudden compassion and sadness over the death of the monster. He couldn’t help but think that perhaps you would feel the same about him?

___

The walk towards his bike was in comfortable silence, your form bundled up in his jacket against the wind in order to keep you warm. Paul wondered if you ever noticed the signs that he was technically not alive. The way he was unaffected by the harsh cold weather or how he only could spend time with you at night. However, after seeing your reaction in the movie theater, he felt more confident that you would accept him for the monster that he is.

You paused, glancing towards Paul as he slowly brought himself to a stop, his bike only a few feet away as he continued staring at the ground.

“You’re unusually quiet…” You muttered, turning towards him in concern, “What’s the matter?” You gripped his hand, bringing yourself closer so you could gauge his reaction.

“There’s something we need to talk about.” He said, finally bringing his eyes from the ground to rest on your figure, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Something I’ve been hiding.”

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #paul tlb #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys fanfic #paul x reader #brooke mccarter

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the-oracles-maw · 4 days

Text

don't you beg for love

kinda a vent fic to console myself. Anyway, it's been a hot minute and I'm sorry about that. Finals are coming up. Also also if anyone wants to see a different dbd killer feel free to request who!

Cowboy grandpa Caleb gives you some cowboy grandpa advice.

The Grave of Glenvale had become more of a home to you than the Entity's twisted copy of your own. You've never been to Arizona, you would reason. What young folk like yourself haven't fantasized about being a mysterious cowboy looming into a Saloon? Big, hot iron strapped to your hip, ready to clean house of bandits?

You kept telling yourself that as you made your way into the Saloon, or what was left of it. Some of the letters reading "DEAD DAWG" had been shot off, making it read more like the "D D DA G SALOON"

You were fine, you told yourself. You were curious about what the whiskey was like in the late 1800's. You were into the cowboy aesthetic.

A grumble and a cough rings out. An uncharacteristically chipper voice that did not suit whom it belonged to.

"Why, ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

You weren't fine.

If you were fine, you wouldn't have totally just perked up hearing the mangled voice of the undead bounty hunter that all but took you in when you found yourself in this warped, new world.

Caleb's genuine smile was comically lopsided, one side of his face completely, grotesquely smooshed thanks to the bullet that shattered and ripped through his jaw. If one knew any better, they'd turn tail and run from the sight.

The outlaw ran his thick fingers over the rim of the glass of fresh neat whiskey, which somehow looked drinkable. The Entity was good to her killers, that was for sure, apparently.

"What're standing there for, mo chuisle? Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I don't bite."

Trying not to drag your feet, you settle on the barstool across from Caleb, looking away from him. Already, you felt a little bit better. The sound of glass dragging across old wood makes your eyes snap up at him, Caleb holds a new glass of whiskey for you. Where it came from, you haven't a clue. The Entity had her ways, perhaps. And you didn't dare question it.

"Have some," He drawled. "Yer lookin' rough."

You paused, and look at the honey colored liquid, already anticipating the bitter, burning sting down your throat.

"Well? Go on." Caleb insisted, nudging the glass towards you.

You take the glass, and slam it back. "It ain't like them fancy rich folk pops yer used to back home. You're not meant to taste it," you remember Caleb telling you. You cough loudly as you down the drink in one gulp, still not used to the bitter burn, causing the man to laugh.

"Bah, you'l get use to it, eventually. Now, talk to me dotey," Caleb stretched, you could hear the creaking of the metal brace on his bad leg. "What's eating at you now?"

What wasn't eating at you? Compared to Caleb, and most, if not all of your cohorts, you hadn't been here very long. But, if one was keeping track the best they could, it was likely you'd been trapped here for a little over three months. You did the Entity's bidding well. You gave her fresh sacrifices. She was please and kept you healthy and strong. But still...

You felt out of place.

You struggled to connect with your fellow killers. Even the band known as the Legion, who seemed just about your age, seemed... off-put by you. The outgoing and charismatic Danny Johnson wouldn't give you a second glance. When the killers mingled about the campfire before retreating to their respective realms, you were forced to stay far away, or awkwardly follow Caleb on the rare occasion he made an appearance.

"So, I..." You began, trying to find the words. "I went out with Frank and his friends."

"Did you now?" Caleb took a swig of the whiskey. "How was that? You have fun?"

You sigh sadly. "It was... I don't know, kind of like I wasn't there. I mean, I had a good time, it was bowling but..."

"Now, lemme ask you something, mo chuisle..." Caleb's voice was uncharacteristically soft. Gentle, even as he leaned in. "Why do you even stick around Frank, huh? You ain't into 'em, and they ain't into you."

You don't have an answer to that, you just look down at the empty glass guiltily. Caleb shakes his head. On your slouched shoulder, a rough hand finds purchase.

"Hey now, you don't mind if you lend me an ear, do ya?"

Not at all.

"Look," Caleb clears his throat, scooching the barstool a little closer to you. "I know it hurts, trust me, I know. But, there's just gonna be folks out there who, for whatever God damned reason, just don't like ya. Doesn't necessarily have to be something you did."

You could tell by the tone of Caleb's voice that this was something he himself's also struggled with: Feeling out of place. An Irish immigrant, undesirable by white employers and pioneers on the western front. "And sometimes, dotey? You gotta know when to give it up."

You sigh sadly. Deep down, you know Caleb is right. Frank and the Legion will probably never see you as a friend. "I know... I... I guess I just want people to like me."

"Why, I like ya!" Caleb playfully nudges you on the shoulder, making you laugh. "But... yeah. I get it. You're still a young lil' thing. You wanna run wild with people your age."

You nod.

"Listen here now, mo chuisle, I know yer crushed," Caleb continued, "It might take a while to, 'find your people,' so to speak. Took me my whole damn life. Took me 'till my last few years to find my people." His lips rose as you both knew he was referring to the Hellshire Gang.

Caleb gently caressed your shoulder, patting it every now and then, his eyes softening. "Ya can't beg for folks to like ya, mo chuisle. It'll only hurt you in the end." A soft smile returns to his face. "And when you find your people, you won't have to beg. You know why?"

You blink, and Caleb grins. "Because the best folk'll see you the way I do, grá mo chroí."

Your eyes don't feel as stingy anymore as you smile back at him. You think you're going to leave the Legion alone for a little while, and stick by Caleb. Sure, your friendship was... unconventional, but you never had to beg for Caleb's attention. And best of all? He was delighted to have you around.

Perhaps your people, age gap be damned, was right in front of you, sharing a whiskey with you.

You wouldn't ever have to beg.

"mo chuisle": literally "my pulse" my darling, my love

"grá mo chroí": literally "love of my heart"

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noowayybroo · 3 months

Text

Vampire Man Drabble (NSFW)

I've been rewatching Young Dracula, a BBC show from my "childhood".

I'm kinda obsessed with Count Dracula. I know it's a kid's show but he's so pathetic and whiny and throws so many tantrums, but being such an old man he's so sexy and posh and UGHAAGAH HE HAS MY HEART!!

Also , the guy who plays him (Keith-Lee Castle) Lowkey fits the role so well!!?!?! He looks like SUCH A VAMPIRE!! (I wouldnt look him up idk if hes the best guy)

SO I WANTED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SOME IDEAS, and i know most of my following is admittedly looking for Leon content, so if you squint really hard, or maybe read this with one hand if you catch my drift (nyeh heh heh) maybe you can imagine it's about vampire Leon HEhehehehe

Warnings: Guy is vampire, reader may be human or vampire. NO SEX BUT VIOLENCE. GN!Reader, mentions of scenting, old age, violence, age difference, vampirism, blood, biting, seduction, mentions of death and killing and blood driking. Secretly soft vampire man etc basically all your vampirey shit, STOP READING THEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT BRO, I'll try keep it short k ily bye.

THIS IS A GUIDE:

Stuff about the vampire man

Stuff about the reader being a vampire

Stuff about the reader being a human

THIS IS A RARE TREAT FOR ANYONE READING THIS CUZ I USUALLY LIKE TO WEAR THE FANGS IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! JUST SAYING!! BUT THIS MF HAS MY HEART!

Vampire who was turned at a young age or born into vampirism and has lived with it for oh so long. He's just so old, alone in that castle of his. He's moved to live near humans, but they seldom get a chance to converse, not before his fangs wind up in their necks.

Vampire who watches them go about their short little lives, knowing with confidence that he has and will live many more. Aware that he'll be the end to many more, deadly prowess easily eliminating each hunter or slayer who dares come his way.

Vampire of whom nobody has seen the true colours - only the pristine white of his fangs before they are soiled with the blood of his victims. They only know his rage and strength, and the power and force at which his claws slash at their flesh, at which his fangs sink into their necks.

Vampire who prefers to seduce his victims before plunging them towards their inevitable demise. He will sing them such a sweet lullaby; allure them with gentle praise and affirmation as he draws close, weaving such a sticky web, leaving them entranced. And entranced he is too, as his victim perhaps gazes from a window, or into space itself, but his only captive is the soft melody of his victim's heartbeat. The gentle rhythm, the pulse of their neck drawing him to them like a moth to flame.

Vampire Who almost feels like the victim himself. He was not a monster. He was no villain. No, he was simply wired this way - a victim of his own nature. It was his prey, the cruel, heartless beast who tempted him so dearly with the promise of 8 pints of warm, thick red (accounting for clumsy, desperate spillage.) Oh how he delighted in the feel of it coating the expanse of his hungry throat.

Vampire Whose second favourite method of the hunt is to toy with his prey, for it is no fun if they are not fearful. His cold, undead heart remains unliving for the thrill of the chase. He'll stalk them through the night, he'll become one with the shadows, and only when he feels they are worthy of feeling true fear will he present himself. Springing from the darkness, his soul's only twin, he reveals himself at last like a god unto its disciples.

He will forever delight in the screams - in the sight of each harrowed soul in that moment.

Vampire who is humiliatingly theatrical and old fashioned. When he bears himself to his prey, he must give them a show. It's the least he could do, as it will be their last living moment. He'll either expand his cape, or brandish sharp claws, but either way, his eyes will be dark as night, and piercing fangs will ward off any hope of survival each sacrifice may have had.

Vampire who takes great excitement in tormenting his prey. He is old fashioned, cunning and sly. He'll chase you around an abandoned building and use his supernatural speed to appear right behind the door you thought would bring you victory. He'll mock you with a skeleton, only to refer to it as a future you. If you're fortunate, and he's not too hungry, he might even show you his vast collection of stored blood. Again, he promises that one day, you have this to look up to.

Vampire Surprisingly, he is not as violent or as cruel as it may seem. Sure he kills, and he kills for fun. For the mere thrill of it. But he will not let you die slowly, or painfully at all. He prides himself in how... happy, his victims really can be. His torture follows suit. Scratch you? Harm you? Him? Never. He could never. He wouldn't waste a drop, after all. (Intentionally, that is.) He'd much rather promise you a terrible demise, or chase you towards your doom, having you believe begging or running could really help. His many years have taught him that each effort you make is futile. He will always win. He will always consume. You are not special.

Vampire who sometimes, well after sunset, will stare out of his lonely, dusted window at the town below. He will wonder if it could be possible that there is a chance at love out there for him still. A chance at redemption. A chance to, perhaps, not be so devilish.

On rare occasions, too, say once every 20 years, he thinks this as he stares into the eyes of one of his captives. He'll wonder, sometimes as he hypnotises their free will and thought away, whether he really needs to kill them. But then it's that look on their face. One of fear, or one of braindead submission. It's again, the sound of their heart, of their breath, something he hadn't done in forever, something he yearned to be so close to, to be so near to, and before he knows it, they're limp in his arms, and cold, just as he.

Vampire who throws tantrums on the rare occasion that his prey, or more likely another undead creature or demon, is able to overpower or trick him. He'll slam his fist like a child and bare his fangs. Wailing and wallowing in his own pathetic defeat as black curtains obscure his face. Thunder and lightning will crackle outside, heeding his call, and otherwise, the world will resume. It was sad for him, really, to have so much power, and at the same time to be so insignificant.

Vampire who, despite being immortal, is getting old. He doesn't care for sports, nor for going outside and exercising as a human would. When he chases at a speed, he more floats rather than runs, and so, he's getting rusty, physically and mentally. Perhaps that explains the demise of his fearsome reputation and outlook. Perhaps it is why he is going soft. Laughlines rarely show, but small crowsfeet grace his pale skin as he smiles or bares his fangs. His joints begin to creak. He can no longer do some of the things he could when he was a younger biter without being heard, and he grumbles at simple tasks such as tidying or standing up. He ages with the walls around him.

Vampire Reader Insert:

Vampire who catches a fleeting glance of you at a traditional vampire ball. Really, the two of you are too old for these pathetic customs, him more so, but how else was he to catch up on all the latest fanged gossip, and perhaps find an evil someone to accompany him as he grew older?

Vampire who afterwards goes out of his way to make eye contact with you. When he thinks you're not looking, he combs his nimble fingers through his long hair, preening himself, cursed to never be able to see himself in the many mirrors that surround him. He curses himself, adjusting his over the top attire, wiping any blood from his face. He wants to catch your gaze, just as you have his.

Vampire who can (respectfully) smell it on you. He can tell that you're strong, and that you're dominant. He never thought he was looking for someone, really, especially with his strength and title. It had only really occurred to him that anybody interested would be there to use him. And then, he saw you. Something about you was so devilishly evil. So charming. So alluring and strange. He didn't care if you used him. He wanted you to, suddenly he wanted you to take all he had.

Vampire who anxiously makes conversation with you. He is respectful, despite being well above your status. He can't keep his eyes from your body and face, nor his tongue from his lips as it darts to keep them moist. Quietly, he hopes you're taking note. His hands fiddle and preen. He needs you to enjoy what you see, for it is so rare for him to do so.

Vampire who eventually you begin to court. He practically begs you to move in with him, forming his castle as a home for the two of you. No longer is he alone. Even if you were to betray him now and take all he had, he kept some satisfaction in knowing he wouldn't die alone. Perhaps one day, too, an heir would come from all of this.

Vampire who shares with you some of his powers and wisdom. Who accompanies you on hunts and who works with you to lure prey. You enjoy romantic, playful flights together (as bats, of course) and he, without admitting it, enjoys your dark humour and evil presence in his home. You bring a smile to his face, and a blush to his dead cheeks. You're oh so beautiful and precious in his life, and as more and more time passes, he can imagine giving everything to you.

But what if you're evil, and planned to take everything all along? Well, that would be a fitting demise for him, he thinks as he slowly closes the lid to his coffin beside yours just before the sun rises. And it'd make you all the more evil and devious of a sinner, and that's what he loved about you. Your company, even if not genuine, for love was so twisted and warped for creatures such as yourselves, meant more than words could ever express. If he were human. If he were pumping blood, you would warm him.

Human reader here!!

Vampire who'd never have thought any other humans would be foolish enough to simply let themselves into his castle, at least not this decade! You were the third one this century and it was really getting old. He'd think with all the rumours going around about people never returning alive, or the danger of the castle's crumbling structure that nobody would come back, at least not alone, but here you were.

Vampire who can hear you from rooms away as you walk in. You're human and you're alone. That's all he needs to know to identify that he's safe, and so, he creeps towards you. He balances with both hands and feet on ledges above your head, blending perfectly with the shadows as he stalks you like some huge, predatory cat. And he does this until he can see you. You look divine. You smell divine. And really, he questions the work of some divine intervention, as he was just craving fresh blood the moment you walked in: A lamb to the slaughter.

Vampire who identifies that the blatantly open castle door was how you got in. He didn't really feel the cold, and the wind howling was a permanent sound with how high in the castle he tended to reside, so silly him had left the door open. You must have really thought this place was abandoned. He almost pities you as you walk around, shining your phone's flashlight about. He just about ducks away in time to avoid being spotted as you point your phone at him, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you, ready to pounce.

Vampire who held off, though. He was excited by your presence, and he was oh so hungry, but he was always one to play with his food. He continues to follow you through the shadows, practically salivating and his bustling ideas of how to torment and devour 'this one.' Because, initially, that's all you were to him, food.

Vampire who daydreamt (although it was night) about chasing you through his crypt, hearing your screams for mercy and salvation. He could sit there and munch dead carcasses in front of you just to watch you squirm in horror. He mused to himself about how warm your neck would feel to his lips, and how your blood might taste. He considered how your voice may sound, begging to be freed as he holds you there, firm hands on your shoulders, claws pricking at your soft flesh. He imagines you there, before him, ripe for the taking. The last moment, he opens his eyes and you're gone-

You're gone.

What?

Vampire who looks around desperately, realising that he'd so easily been swept away by his fantasies. And so, he follows your scent and the sound of your soft heartbeat to his room, where, he could swear he hears you murmur "I knew it."

Vampire who catches you gawking at his closed coffin, regal and fancy. You run your small hands over it in awe as if there isn't a blood thirsty creature of the night ready to pounce out and devour you. You seem.. in awe. You look fascinated. Of course, there's a twinge of terror in your face, but for some reason, you haven't run... yet.

Vampire who figures the game is up, and tries to salvage a dramatic entry. He can't appear in the coffin and reveal himself like that, incase you're a slayer and it leaves him vulnerable, and so, from behind you you hear:

"And what brings you to my humble abode?" The question is long, and drawn out, in a posh voice that almost makes you giddy. You can hear the bloodlust dripping from his fangs, and you don't need to turn to see the man who's so close he should be gracing you with his breath. None comes. you know what he is.

Vampire who grins sadistically as you turn on your heels, slowly. He is amused to see the fear finally registering in your features. Oh, and how soft and delicate those features were. He could just reach a hand out and brush his cold digits over them. But he won't. This isn't a time to console you. It's time to instil fear in your soon to be dead heart.

Vampire who gawks when you finally respond to his question. Something absurd about knowing there was a vampire living here. Something ludicrous about actually having visited a few times but never seeing him. Something utterly offensive about whether he lived alone or had a family. The man's jaw clenched. It seemed he had never encountered a victim as chatty or simply curious as you, and he didn't quite know how to feel.

Did you WANT to die or something?

Vampire who towers over you, with eyes wider than your own as he listens to you rattle off about something or other. He doesn't register what you're saying, though. Instead, his mind wonders off to somewhere it never has before. Perhaps, he'll hypnotise you to make you scared, and then he'll have his fun with you. Yes, that should work, because right now, he found you far too distracting.

Vampire who realises, once you've shut up, that actually, there's a more nagging matter:

"Are you here... to kill me?" he asks, looking down at you, shoulders slightly deflated as though you've sucked the prowl out of him.

"Like a slayer?"

"Exactly-" he raises a finger that could really do with a manicure, but you cut him off

"No, not at all, it's just when I heard people went missing... well I just thought this place would be perfect to see a vampire." In all honesty, you kept yapping away in hopes that tears would not prick your eyes and that somehow it'd save you from imminent collapse. You were terrified. He seemed very much real.

Whilst you were in admiration of the pale beast before you, you did not intend to die.

Vampire who fortunately for him isn't letting on just how well you crept under his skin and made a small home there. His senses were conflicted, as a result of your mixed signals, and he wasn't sure how to react. You were scared, he could smell it. He could hear it in the heavy fast thump of your heart. But something else had brought you here. You were curious. Intrigued. You wanted to learn about him, and in a way, he related. He wanted to learn about himself.

Vampire who, whilst he is still very much appealed by the idea of biting into your throat, is starting to enjoy how your hushed voice echoes off the walls of his home. You sounded sweet and pure, unlike any vampire he'd encountered recently. You had a passion. You had a reason to live, and it almost sickened him with jealousy.

Vampire who can no longer fight his newfound impatience as he lets out an animalistic growl, clenching his fist before you with means to silence you, and to his relief, it works. Your mouth slams shut and you stare up into his eyes. He recognises that this, if any, is his perfect time to hypnotise you, and to fix things. That's right. You'd forget everything you've seen and heard, because your words made you slippery, and he feared for his own existence if you escaped, and then, you'd be scared of him. He'd toy with you, kill you, and it'd be over with. Then, he'd be happy once more, and could return to his coffin, without any linger questions of "what if?".

Vampire who waves two fingers before your eyes, ensnaring them and guiding them up to fall onto his. You watch as his dark, brooding eyes become a more perplexing, strange and beautiful colour. A look of mischief tugs at his sharp, dark lips. He has won. Now, he'll hypnotise you, and it'll be over with. Why did he keep telling himself this? It was starting to become tiresome- just do it.

Vampire who freezes up when he hears you enquire about whether he know the science behind his eyes changing colour like that. You swear a vein in his forehead is about to pop. His mouth hangs ajar, defeated. "Look, you, just look into my eyes" he commands, almost pleading in that sultry, dark voice. "Just look and obey..."

Vampire who stares at you for a while, staring into those pretty, captivating eyes of yours. He finds himself lost in the possibility of what to command you, and once he's finally ready to will the words, they disobey him. His mouth moves, but no commands grace your ears. Eventually, you blink, the spell is broken and he clasps his fists shut, growling low in his throat.

Why can't he do it?

Vampire who gives in, providing you with a tour of the castle and all of his ancient belongings. The understanding is that once he's done, you leave, and never tell anybody anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted in you, but hypnosis was out of the question. And since his ordeal of failing to control you, he'd felt quite humiliated. His hunger had been somewhat satiated for now.

Vampire who hides his scarce smile each time you make certain remarks about how gothic, deadly or edgy everything looked. Your modern lingo was beyond him. "Cringe", "Edgy", "Rad", "Babygirl", what did it all mean? At one point, whilst you're analysing a particularly old suit of armour, he stands behind you, arms folded and lips pursed, trying to conclude the meaning behind the umbrella term "Daddy issues" and why you felt the need to mention it to him on now an astounding three separate occasions. When you turned to face him though, he'd stiffen his gate and fix you a menacing glare as if he despised of your company.

Vampire who walks alongside you with perfect posture, his arms are often crossed or still by his side. Occasionally he glances at your neck as he concludes a whole half hour of walking his dinner around his rather shameful home. And then, you both find yourselves at the door. You look up at him, he looks down at you, and then you do something neither of you'd expected.

"Can I stay?"

Vampire who freezes up yet again at your question, but after some stumbling and stuttering, and getting his tongue tied up in his fangs, he reluctantly spits out a 'yes.' All the while, his face contorts, unable to form the words. It's so peculiar speaking at all, let alone to a human. And, he can't say he's ever spoken to one willing to continue risking their lives. You weren't sure why you did it. You just did.

Vampire who stands with you, watching over the town beneath his window, for once, with someone beside him. He seems stiff, and tense, and he cannot ignore your scent, nor the sound of each gentle breath and pulse of your veins. It was only natural: He was your predator, you were his prey. He was meant to kill you now, merely driven by instinct, and yet, he felt content to wait. I mean, it wasn't as if you'd run off in a hurry, was it? For once, a breather like you actually wanted to stay and speak to him. He was almost enamoured.

Vampire who swore to himself in this moment to never admit to another soul, dead or alive, light or dark, how your warmth touched him. He refused to allow himself to snuggle right into you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and nestling his face into your neck, not to bite or mark this time, but to kiss, and indulge- softly, sweetly. He groaned at the thought, startling you. And then his face hardened, snapping you another glare as if you were the one who had been having such pathetic fantasies.

Vampire who understands that, as a human, you grow weary in the night. He'd forgotten all this time that putting you to sleep would be a great way to shut you up, but there was a reason for his forgetfulness. It was, of course, convenient, because he no longer wanted to silence you. He wanted to bask in your words and warmth; in your conversation and curiosity. You made him feel important, and interesting, and slightly more alive. But the sun would be up soon, and if it caught him, well. He'd be the furthest from alive he's ever been.

Vampire who quickly brushes off and tucks you into the softest bed he can find from memory, and taps you on the nose gently as he leans over you, casting ominous shadows which block out any hopeful rays. He laughs menacingly, brandishing his fangs as his deep gravelly voice reverberates through you "Goodnight, don't let the vampire bite, now, will you?" he teases as he slowly sinks into the shadows, leaving you alone. His low chuckle follows him into the dark.

Vampire who leaves you alone to rest peacefully, or not, depending on whether a) you COULD sleep, and b) he became hungry during the night.

Vampire who spends the rest of his waking moments wondering just what to do with you, until the sun rises, and he returns to his cold, depressing coffin.

Hi guys I really hope whoever of you saw that liked it. I had the idea at about midnight and it's now 2 27 am. I wish I were this productive with literally anything else but due to a series of unfortunate events I crave old, posh, dominant men with soft spots, and this fits the bill.

I'd also like to write more about vampy men, and about maybe teachers or just other older men heheh but also subby men!! and the reader being a vampire!! so please lmk what you think and don't be afraid to ask (just a warning your rq might take me 24747 years to address, it's not personal i just suck)

THANKS GUYS I LOVE U ALL

#gn!reader #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #re leon #vampire #vampire!reader #vampire!leon kennedy #smut #gn reader #young dracula #count dracula #vampire romance #reader insert #vampire fiction #vampire smut #resident evil #drabble

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jazztag · 4 months

Text

A Cure for Solitude V

The Tall Man watches him sleep. At least, it seems the creature’s out of it. He is snuggling under the sheets and moaning softly. The vaccine might be hurting his insides right now, the Man is sure of it. He observes the creature turn around on his side and sees the alphabet wooden plank he holds against his chest. The Tall Man decides that’s the weirdest undead creature he has seen from them all. He appears to have conscience, he isn’t dead yet but his human functions are erratic, and his behavior makes the Tall Man wonder what kind of person that creature was before getting infected.

He’s been watching him. He’s always watching them all.

The Tall Man decides to leave. He will return when the creature is awake to get that sample. He doesn’t want to interrupt him in his sleep. After putting him through hell with each vaccine test, that’s the bare minimum.

He is already turning away to get back to the base when something is suddenly thrown against his head. Alarmed and a bit confused, he turns around, ready to fight whatever it is. In return, he encounters the creature fully awake, curled and looking scared against the headboard of the bed. The Tall Man looks at what has been thrown at him. It’s the alphabet wood plank thing-y.

“What the heck, you,” yells the Tall Man, annoyed. The creature looks mad as well, but still fearful of him. “Though you were asleep, damn”

The zombie looks suddenly very sad, and between sobs he lets out a frustrated growl.

“I… c-can can’t -t,” he gets his knees right under his chin, and hugs himself, still half covered in blankets.

The Tall Man grabs the alphabet from the ground, examining it. Now that’s interesting, he thinks. Being able to speak to one of the undead creatures should be great to gain more intel against his enemy.

“Have you tried to get very still and quiet your breath”, asks the Tall Man, getting near the bedside again. The creature rolls his eyes, and stumbles to get as far as possible from him. He uses the thick comforter to shield his tiny body from the Man, but even he knows that it won’t work to protect him from whatever the Tall Man plans to do. “You can’t… sleep?”

The creature seems to get even more sadder than before, and with trembling hands he covers his face. The Tall Man sits on the edge of the bed with caution, knowing full well the zombie is still very afraid of him. After some silence, he decides to lighten the mood with another question “What’s your name?”

The creature looks up at him, and then starts sobbing frantically. The Tall Man gets both his hands up, surrendering. He then looks at the alphabet thing-y still in his grip.

“Were you trying to remember?”, asks him, still trying to understand what seems to trouble the little creature. The other scratches at his nose and looks up again, meeting his blue eyes. Then nods.

“I-i on-ly-y have… o-one,” The Tall Man observes the wooden colored plank. He gives it to the creature, and after hesitating a bit, the zombie accepts it, quickly embracing the toy again in both arms. His tired red eyes look at all the scary 24 letters, and sniffles.

“Well, what it is”, asks the Tall Man, trying to sound approachable. He is self conscious about his big frame in comparison to the other’s. He speaks in a softer tone, and tries to keep his movements slow and predictable. The creature looks at him with tired eyes, and with a trembling finger he taps the letter “W” in the plank.

“W. That’s all you’ve got?” laughs the Tall Man. The creature gets a little bit defensive.

“W i-is g-ood-d”

“W is… enough, yes”, the Man shrugs, not wanting to offend the other. The zombie, though, throws at him the plank, clearly annoyed. Then snuggles to get by the Tall Man’s side again and points at the letters with one trembling finger.

“Y-you you?”

The Tall Man looks away for a second. “Well, I’ve got more than one letter, that’s for sure”, says. “You can call me the Medic”, and while holding up the plank, he starts pointing at each letter while saying his alias. The creature looks at him weirdly.

“N-not a na-m, nam, n-name” W points out, accusatory. The Tall Man grows frustrated.

“That’s the only name I need and I go by” and his gaze turns dark, as if remembering something, something that happened years ago. Something that pains him to remember.

W tries to concentrate on the wooden plank, and with his finger, he tries to point at each of the letters like the Medic did. But after landing his index on the letter M, he fails to remember the next one.

“Mmm… mm… E-em”, and the Medic watches him quietly, like observing a child speaking his first words. The creature falls silent after that, and someone tells him W has actually forgot the rest.

“M is enough”, he says, and reasures W by pointing at the letter once more.

“Em is-s e-enough.”

#promptfactory #acureforsolitude #writing prompt #prompt #whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpee x caretaker #my ocs #zombie whumpee #writing #short story #whumper becomes caregiver

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flying-thing · 3 months

Text

Kiss Me in the Rain

This is a SoapGhost fic for Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2. No one requested this, but my heart yearns for more angst, and as such, here we are. This is all based on the new Ghost skin in the war zone part of the game that I've never touched.

I'm not typing out Soap's accent.

..............................................................................................

Playlist:

Work Song - Hozier

My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

So My Darling - Rachel Chinouriri

Atlantis - Seafret

Here With Me - D4vd

Romantic Homicide - D4vd

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

Advice - Alex G

The View Between Villages - Noah Kohan

..............................................................................................

CW: major character death, broken promises, gore, unreliable narrator, angst, domestic fluff, zombies

Word Count: 3457 (Unfinished and not edited!!)

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

It was no surprise when Price told Simon and John that it was close to the time in which they needed more supplies. They were the scouts, after all, and it was their job to go scavenging. They still had a few days before they needed to leave, and as per usual, the two were enjoying their time together until they needed to leave.

Simon walked out to the garden the team had started a few days ago, and he found John watering the plants. It was a lot easier for sprouts to come out when there weren't birds and squirrels to steal the seeds from the soil. It has become oddly peaceful since the outbreak, nobody to disturb your slumber, no wars to fight, and barely anything to worry about. Recently, the 141 have been looking for any type of farm animal so that they can fully sustain themselves without needing to leave every month or so for supplies. Everyone has taken to reading books, whether it be to pass the time or to learn how to do certain things. Price has figured out how to build buildings— after some much needed practice. Gaz has learned to make soap and cook delightful food (when there was actual food to cook), and Soap has put his demolition skills to good use in that he can make things that create electricity and even plumbing. Simon has become very interested in gardening, interestingly enough.

Everyone had a place, and the routine worked. The rest of the world was plagued, but here in their little home? It was perfect. Most of the soldiers left when the outbreak happened so they could protect their families. The rest died when the undead broke in. Simon wonders sometimes what it would be like to be dead. He fantasized about it a lot when he was younger, but now that there was little to live for, life was everything to him.

Before he got too lost in his thoughts, John walked over to him. "What's happening in that brain of yours, Simon?" He asks. Simon snaps out of whatever trance held him, and he shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it, but it's nothing exciting. What are you doing out here?" He counters, earning a grin from the scot's face.

"Just trying to find out why you enjoy this so much, and I think I've just about figured it out."

Simon looks at him amused. "And what is the reason?"

"I said 'just about,' not completely," he jokes, making Simon laugh. He did that more often now that he barely wore a mask anymore. John was fascinated with how expressive he was. Crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, the barely-there blush on his cheeks, the corners of his mouth lifting. Apparently, when he called Simon gorgeous in his mind, he said it outloud, and it made the taller man smile more.

"You flatter me too much, Johnny. Do you want to know the reason I enjoy it?"

"Would you tell me if I said yes?"

"Probably not."

John scoffed playfully and shook his head, his eyes closed with the gesture. "Has Gaz made dinner yet?"

"He's about to, I think. He's excited for everything to start growing so we don't need to live off unseasoned and almost expired canned food."

"I'm in the same boat with him. Cannot stand what we're surviving off. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose." John said solemnly.

Simon quirked an eyebrow. "Did you learn that phrase from Price?"

The comment earned him a punch to the shoulder, and Simon just chuckled again. "I've been around you English folk longer than you think, bastard." His words held no venom, and Simon rolled his eyes. "Thanks for watering everything, even if you didn't find answers to your questions."

John looked up at him and nodded. "I'm glad you found something you enjoy. I don't need to understand it."

It was always a change of pace from when Simon was tearing himself apart to find out the answers to unspoken questions he had about himself to John wholeheartedly accepting him, no questions asked. He'd slowly started adopting the mindset of not needing to know everything for there to be understanding. Johnny really rubbed off on him, he supposed.

"Price wants us to leave tomorrow. We need more food and blankets. Winter might be harsh, and we still don't have a heater that works," Simon said, changing the subject.

The shorter man nodded before chuckling. "Can you imagine us bringing back mattresses? That'd be feat."

"We would probably need to bring the four of us for proper backup. There's a mattress store in the mall we go into sometimes," Simon said. John thought for a moment before nodding his head. "Project for another day."

---

Simon got his and John's clothes while the latter got the shower ready. The routine was comforting for Simon after their 'normal' was all discombobulated. He had folded the clothes as neatly as he could before walking into the shared restroom that was slowly fogging up the broken mirror. He set the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and made sure their towels were still where they were supposed to be.

"The water's just how you like it, Si," Johnny said, peaking his head out of the curtain. He had always looked at him like he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, and it was sometimes overwhelming for Simon. He didn't deserve this. But he had it, and so he would enjoy it until the world decided it was time to tear them apart.

Simon only smiled as he undressed and put his clothes next to the pile Johnny had already made before getting inside the shower with him. John made room for Simon to feel the warmth of the water. His eyes closed for a moment as he basked in it. When his eyes opened, Johnny had some of the homemade shampoo in his hand and Simon leaned down so he could wash his hair.

Soft moments like this made him feel all warm inside, and he never could resist melting into his lover's hands when he'd held him. They took their time in washing each other, not wanting to waste a single moment together. The water was still hot when they finished and they dried off and got dressed. They spent the time in a comfortable silence, both having acknowledged that no words needed to be shared.

After they climbed into bed, Simon wrapped himself around John. He wanted to tell him about the feeling of dread he felt but got lost to the sound of John's heartbeat. John rubbed Simon's shoulder with his thumb as they laid there.

"I have a bad feeling about tomorrow," Simon said. John hummed. "Do you know why?"

Simon shook his head. "Just feels like something is going to go wrong."

"We haven't had an incident in a while. We cleared out most of the hoard that went through the city," John said, trying to clear the other's worries.

"Maybe that's the problem," Simon said. He'd never been scared to go out on a mission. The zombies were no more a threat to him than a soldier would have been. A little less if he thought about it.

"Promise me you'll be the one to kill me if I get bitten."

"What are you talking about? You're not going to get eaten. Stop talking like that," John said.

"Johnny, I need you to promise me. I don't know what I'd do if I was the one who hurt you in the end," Simon says, sitting up to look at him.

"I will protect you, Simon. I promise that if push comes to shove, I'll kill you. I'm not going to lose you to a damn biter though, you hear?" John said, pulling Simon in for a light kiss.

John sat up with him and cradled Simon's face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away tears that Simon hadn't even realized were falling.

"Don't cry, my love. It's okay."

"I don't understand why I'm so upset," Simon said. "But I just can't stand the thought of hurting you. You're so dear to me."

"Don't get too sappy on me," John chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I love you, Simon."

"I love you too, Johnny."

John's eyes widened, and Simon didn't think he'd ever seen his face get so bright.

"Well, you can't die now. Not when you're finding your voice. I'm so proud of you, Simon."

"It's all because of you."

---

Beep beep be- click.

John clicked off the alarm clock with a sigh. He sat up and rubbed his face before turning to look at Simon sleeping peacefully. His light brown hair is laid across the pillow, and his mouth is slightly agape. His hair had gotten longer as he had not cut it in a while. It looked so soft and John couldn't help but carefully run his fingers through the other's locks. The action woke him up and he opened his glossy eyes to see that it was only Johnny there.

"Good morning," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "Morning," the other responded. John removed his hand and allowed Simon to do a full body stretch and yawn before sitting up as well. He leaned on John's shoulder, his cheek smushing up against it.

"You're like a cat, Simon. It's sweet," John said endearingly.

"I blame you for making me soft, Johnny," Simon mumbled, making him chuckle.

"We should get up soon. Gaz ought to be making breakfast by now."

"Let me go to the bathroom first," Simon said, getting up and stretching again, yawning as he scratches his stomach.

John followed behind him and then to the cafeteria after, sure enough hearing Gaz making noise in the kitchen.

They walked up to the window in the wall and watched the man do his thing. "Good morning, Gaz," John says loudly so he hears him. He looked over and grinned. "Morning, boys. How'd you sleep?"

"I slept well enough. Simon's still waking up, if you couldn't tell," John answered. Gaz nodded.

"Breakfast is almost done, if you two want to sit down. I'll bring it out to you."

"Make enough for me too," Price said, his voice carrying through the room. Gaz rolled his eyes. "No, I think I'll let you make your own food," he said sarcastically. It made Simon laugh and he covered his mouth with one of his hands.

"Don't think you'd want me messing up your space. You'd probably kill me if I set the kitchen on fire."

"Damn right, I would."

They all laugh and after a couple minutes, Gaz walked out with two trays with two plates on each tray. He sat them down on the table they routinely sat at.

"I found a hen in the woods yesterday, so I went and grabbed it. I need you to make a pen for it," Gaz said to Price. The three of them grinned. "So we get eggs more often?" John asked, earning an excited nod.

"Yes!" John exclaimed, doing a little happy dance. Simon laughed and shook his head. "Eat your food. We should leave soon."

"Aye, you're right, but we still need a list of what we need to find. You're also not even dressed yet," John said amusedly. "Neither are you," Simon quipped.

John rolled his eyes and grinned, eating what was on his plate. The four of them conversated for a while even after they'd all finished their food. It was calm; exactly what Simon needed after stressing all last night.

When they finally got dressed, it was about noon. Simon slipped on his vest and grabbed his knives and backpack. He waited for John to finish putting his boots on before walking out to Price's office. John knocked, and Price called them in.

"I've got your list here. It's the normal stuff with a few additions," the older man said, looking between the two.

Simon nodded and took the list from Price's outstretched hand. He looked it over before handing it to John, who put it in his bag. "We'll be back in a couple days then," Simon said, putting on his mask.

"Be safe, boys. We'll be waiting for you."

"Of course, sir," John said, putting on a mask of his own. They walked out of the room and saw Gaz waiting for them at the door. He hugged both of them when they got close enough. "Don't get lost, got it? We'll come find you if you don't check in properly, so don't leave us hanging."

John grins and fist bumps the man, holding their fists together. "We'll come back. Don't miss us too much, yeah?" Gaz nodded and looked at Simon.

"I'll keep him kicking," he said with a grin. "Good man," Gaz responded, giving him a fist bump too. He opened the door and watched them head out and down the road.

"How long do you think we'll be out this time?" John asked, his head slightly elevated to look at the tops of the trees. Simon hummed in consideration. "Four days. Only because we have a lot to get and ground to cover."

"I'll say a week then. Factoring in anything potential issues," John said in consideration. Simon nodded, "Makes sense. I don't think we will though. It's been a while since we've seen so much as a group."

"Better safe than sorry, hm?" John said playfully. Simon chuckled and shook his head. "Learned that from Gaz? Picking up all sorts of things, I see."

"What do you expect? I'm around you guys all the time. Bound to happen," John said, amused.

"We'll be at the city soon. I can see it ahead," Simon said, changing the subject. Since they left so late, they wouldn't make it in daylight and would need to set up camp and get there the next day. Walking give miles takes longer than one would originally expect. They were pretty close by the time the moon was a quarter of the way up in the sky and decided to make their border so they could sleep.

Simon threaded three lines of barbed wire around the trees where their camp would be; one close to the ground, one about torso level, and one in front of his face. After that, he pushed leaves closer to the wire so it would be easier to hear if anything on through. John made a small upside down fire in the meantime, putting down their sleeping bags and using their bags as pillows.

"Did you remember the spoons, Johnny?" Simon asked as he watched him pull out a couple cans of food. John looked around as he thought about it before grimacing. "I'll take that as a no. Good thing I remembered for you," he said, pulling a couple out of his own bag.

"I can't go anywhere without you, Simon," John said playfully, knowing full well that he would forget his sleeping bag if Simon wasn't there to remind him or grab it for him. "I know," the other responded, handing him a spoon.

They ate in a comfortable silence and watched the fire. When they finished eating, Simon took the cans and put them in a spare bag he had brought, putting the spoons in with them to wash them when they got to the stream on their way back. They sat next to each other, their shoulders touching.

"We should sleep soon," Simon said as John leaned his head on his shoulder. "You won't sleep, so I won't either," John said in determination. Simon chuckled and shook his head. "Sleep, Johnny. I'll watch over you."

The man was already asleep, much to Simon's amusement. He never could stay up like Simon could. He fell asleep a little after, laying them both down to get comfortable. Simon layed on the sleeping bag while John was sprawled out on top of him, his head on his chest.

Simon woke up to rustling and at first thought it was John moving. He soon realized that he would have felt the man move and opened his eyes to see a walker fallen over the wire. It was quickly crawling towards them and Simon grabbed the knife from his side pocket and slipped out from under John. He met the zombie halfway and he stabbed into its ear. It was a clean kill, if he did say so himself. The sun was decently up and thought it would be good to get up and go before it was super bright. Sunglasses are hard to put on over the hard shell of a mask.

John woke up from the commotion and shot up when he saw the dead zombie slumped at Simon's feet, thinking it was still alive. "It's alright, Johnny. Took care of it," Simon said, easing John's worries. "We should go soon, so get ready to leave."

He nodded and stretched before getting up and taking deep breaths to calm his adrenaline. He always feared Simon would get bit protecting him. He rolled up the unused sleeping bags and put them away while Simon undid the wiring. They both took a whiz before continuing their trek to the city.

They took their knives out just in case something came at them. Every now and then, they would encounter a runner and they were the worst of them. John opened the makeshift fence they'd made to keep the area contained. Ammo had been exhausted at the beginning of the outbreak and they didn't have much left. As such, guns were rarely used.

They'd never found other survivors. It was hard to live in a world like this and not many had good survival instincts. It really was a wonder the military fell so soon when they were supposed to be trained for it. Oh well, Simon supposed. More resources for my group.

Closing the fence, they ventured further in. "What store should we hit first?" John asked, his eyes scanning the area in front of them. "Necessities first. Probably the chicken feed since the store is farther away. We can work our way to the front."

"Makes sense. It would keep us out here longer though. I don't remember where the store is exactly."

"Neither do I. But if we want eggs, we need to hope we find it quickly and that it's even there."

John nodded, and they kept walking. "We should stock up on toilet paper as well. Maybe grab a thing of water until we get the well pumping properly."

"Should get some for our vacation."

"While this isn't a vacation I would want, it's funny," Simon mused. John stifled a laugh.

They spent most of the day walking down the streets until it got dark enough that they would need to find a building. They found one without a bunch of broken windows and it looked secure enough. They went to the door and carefully opened it, hoping it didn't squeak too much.

The windows let in enough light that they could see well enough. Simon walked over to the wall and banged on it a few times. The door was still open in case a crowd came and they could easily leave. The downside was that the noise could have attracted some outside. It would do them no good to be cornered. When nothing came and no sound was made, John closed the door. They scouted the room and found nothing. The windows were stable and the door leading upstairs was barricaded. As long as they secured the door leading out and stayed out of sight, they would be just fine.

They were unable to make a fire, much to John's dismay, but they did have an electric lantern still. Price was able to fix a solar panel onto it and now they could test to see if it worked. Simon desperately hoped that it would work like this, although he would never admit it. He wanted to be able to see everything if anything happened. That would have been his explanation. The real reason, however, is that he wants to be able to watch John. He didn't know how much time they had left and he wanted to see as much of him as possible.

It's not creepy. It's endearing, Simon thought. How many times will I see him before our inevitable deaths?

He broke free from his slightly morbid thoughts after seeing John grin at him with his teeth showing. It meant that he was pleased. That's good. It was moments like this that made him feel the urge to commit whatever crime he needed to just to see him smile all the time. Not that there was any structure anymore, but his point still stood.

With confirmation that it works, they turned it off. No use in wasting electricity when there was still light outside.

"Hungry, Simon?" John asked as he rifled through his bag for food. Simon nodded when he looked at him. “These are so much better when they're hot, but here you go.”

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qierxing · 2 years

Text

Under the Sea

Yan! Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Halloween AU

CW/TW: Reader is noted with both she and they pronouns interchangeably due to their fluid state of being but is still considered G/N overall

“If you choose to lock your heart away, you’ll lose it for certain.”

–

Dead men tell no tales, they said.

Sailing would be easy, they said.

Did they think about the repercussions of unforetold supernatural problems?

The rancid smell of seaweed and brine makes your nose scrunch as you’re hauled up and thrown roughly onto your knees, shredding even more of your nice clothing. You doubt the cold hands cared though. After all, what is one puny mortal against a whole ship full of undead pirates?

“This one ‘ere’s seems to be the ca’pn, sir.” A guttural growl echoes above you, and murmurs of more crewmates surround you.

It was a good run, you thought to yourself. You fought till the end, until your daggers and saber were knocked out of your hands, your skin slashed and bruised, and till they had to pin you down from causing more trouble. It was more than what you could say for your own crewmates, the traitorous, cowardly scum, leaving you immediately and trying to flee with their own lives. Didn’t matter though, because they were all immediately slaughtered without mercy. You’d have more pity for them dying in their own pools of blood if they didn’t abandon you first.

A barnacle covered boot tips your chin up, and you’re face to face with a smug man, piercing green eyes, dark hair like coal tied in dreads and braids, tall and lithe figure to boot. The captain of this crew, no doubt.

“You. Herbivore. What’s yer name?”

People back home called you many names. The looney merchant. A superstitious fanatic. Raving madman on the better days. Today, you can now safely say they’re all fitting.

“...[First]. [First] [Last].” You cough up, after the boot digs into the crook of your chin and head, causing an unbearable pressure on your throat. The pressure removes itself and you’re left choking for air while the man hums in thought.

“Well, ca’pn Leona?” The voice behind you asks. A scrawny, weasley sounding voice. Must be the one who binded you. “Dunno why you kept this one alive.”

You could practically hear the grin in the next words.

“‘Cuz they got some worth to ‘em right now.”

–

“Have ye heard about the myth of Calypso?”

The name sets you on edge immediately. A pirate asking after the revered primordial sea goddess? That can only mean…

“Who hasn’t?” You shrug your shoulders flippantly. “Every child in a coastal town has heard about how she controls the seas and watches over sailors.”

An annoyed growl is your response. It seems your hunch was correct. “Not that, idiot. I meant about her curse.”

Aha.

“Curse?”

The captain gnashes his canines impatiently. “The one where she curses her lover for leaving her.”

“Ah, that. Yes, I’m acquainted.” You decide to stop teasing him and see where this leads.

“I need ta find her ring.” Silence reigns. You furrow your brows and cross your arms.

“You mean, the one that so happens to be dropped into the ocean, never to be seen again? The one where Calypso, herself, has been rumored to destroy? That ring?”

“Yes, that damn ring!” The ghost snarls, banging his fist on the desk, causing documents and books to fall off. “I need to find that ring so I can finally–!”

“That ring has been gone for more than a millenia. Scratch that, it’s not even proven to ever have existed.” You interrupt, uncrossing your arms, leaning brazenly on the rickety oak desk. “And yet, you’re wanting to stake your undead life on this trinket?”

A knife is driven a finger’s width away from your hand. You don’t blink as the captain’s face becomes inches away from your own. “What does a mortal know about being undead?! What do ye know of–” He cuts himself off, a pained look clouding his eyes. You only observe as he breathes in deeply.

“Alright. I’ll help you find it.” His head whips up in surprise. “On several conditions.”

He smirks. “Negotiatin’? You’ve got guts. Name ‘em.”

“One, that you promise not to kill or harm me at any point, especially after our deal is over. Second, once this is all over, you’ll return me back to land. Third and finally, you return my belongings back from your loot.”

The captain mulls over your words, deep in thought. Beads of sweat run down your back. It was a daring bluff, but if you were kept alive this long, it had to be for something!

He runs his hand down his face, groaning. “You drive a steep price. Fine. It’s a deal.”

A crack of an incoming thunderstorm echoes as you both shake hands.

–

You were many things. You were once a privateer. A bartender. Even a librarian at some point, shelving books for hours till the daylight blended to blue darkness.

But never, in your entire life, have you been made to scrub deck floorboards.

The sun beating down upon your aching figure feels like salt on top of many wounds. The biting smell of lye only makes your head spin and fingers burn.

Worth? Was your worth really amounting to just being a ship’s hands?!

Unbelievable. You end up slipping and nearly falling on your face into the bubbly mess. Left alive, but only to be doing dirty work for ghost pirates. If only the people back home could see you now…

“Shihehehe! Nice work, newbie. Cap’n Leona wants ta see you now, by the way.” The weasley voice! You look up to see squinty gray eyes and sharp teeth, all in a narrow face. There’s something unnerving about the way the ghost leans over you with his smirk, as if he’s a beast ready to devour its prey.

Shaking away the bubbles and your shame, you silently march right past him and into a sturdy chest.

“Oi, watch where ya goin’!” An angry rumble shakes you back to view the familiar face with silver hair and golden eyes that pushed you down back then. You stand your ground as the both of you stare each other down.

“My bad.” The man grunts as you push past him. “What’s their problem?” is the last thing you hear before you’re out of earshot.

You’re in a foul mood by the time you see Leona’s mug, and it seems he is too.

“What’s the hold up on finding the ring?!” He growls. His clothes are a mess more than usual, hair rumpled, and even his desk is near inhabitable.

You huff. “If I wasn’t bogged down on ship chores perhaps I can work more on that map to get you there, Captain.”

“We’re short on manpower, if ye can’t tell. Also I can’t have ye havin’ enough time to go schemin’ behind me back.” You roll your eyes, walking up to his desk and yanking out a long parchment, causing a rather cute yelp from Leona.

“Hey–!” You unravel the aged parchment, scanning over the red lines and dots that circle the map.

“Wow, you’ve made no progress at all. Do you really wanna find this ring?” The parchment is snatched out of your hands as Leona angrily snarls.

“Shut yer trap! I’m workin’ on it.” You heave a long sigh, walking over to his desk and starting to arrange the scattered papers and books.

“What the hell are you doin’?”

“What does it look like? I’m helping organize your space. Since you’re ‘working’ on it, nothing wrong with making your environment better, no?”

He only grumbles in response, but a strangely comfortable silence falls as you both do your tasks, seemingly in tandem. The sound of the quill scribbling is rather nice on the ears as you put back books and sort papers into neat piles. It’s only when you’ve finally refilled his inkwell that you lean over his shoulder and take a look and whistle.

“Nice work, Captain! Now we’re getting somewhere!” You clapped him cheerily on the back without much thought, making him scoff.

“This much is nothin’, herbivore.” If you looked closer, you would’ve seen how he leant into your palm, eyes softening as his voice resembled one of looking at a lover.

–

The night sky has always been beautiful.

And as the stars twinkle above, you can hear the pirates singing their drinking songs, raucous and loud, but with whatever soul they have left in their rattling ribs.

Your drinks were pretty popular, once they found out you could make the most killer mixes out of whatever they had in stock. Ruggie, the silver eyed weasley pirate, became your instant friend as he handed out your brews to other eager crewmates.

“Shihehehe! Think of all the profit we could make outta this! Yo, Jack, come get some of this!” The younger man staggers under the weight of his drunk senior throwing himself onto him, grunting as he looks panicked.

When you break away for some peace, you find that your intended spot was already taken.

“Come ‘ere.” You blink, half turned in resignation at finding another stargazing spot.

“Are ya deaf? Come ‘ere.” Well, it’s not like you can turn down a command. You settle yourself down next to the lazing captain, looking up wistfully.

It’s a perfect clear sky. You wish you had your telescope with you. From here, you can see a bit of the Crux and then bits of the Centauri–

“We’re close to the ring, aren’t we?” You turn your head to observe a still Leona.

“Yes.”

A long pause.

“Why did ye agree to help me? I didn’ even hafta threaten ye all that much.”

You hum, eyes still fixated on the stars. “I could ask ya the same question of why you spared me, Captain.”

Another agonizing beat.

“I thought ya were a fool.” He shifts, shoulders popping and cracking. “All yer crewmates had the sense to run but ye just stood ya ground like ye weren’t up against the famous dread pirate Davy Jones.

I guess I can admire that kind of stupidity, ya know?”

You remain silent, throat closing in on itself. Silence returns, but you can no longer admire the stars before.

–

The shrine is ruined, as you expected. All that remains is a half buried altar in sand and broken shells and rocks around it.

“What the hell is this?”

“It is what you’re searching for.”

For someone to have been searching for this ring so desperately, he looks furious, enraged even. He clenches his hand around the silver tightly, hands trembling. Perhaps you should’ve been more sensitive than just plopping the trinket into his hands.

“How do I know yer not just trickin’ me with a fake?!” He roars, the cave around you echoing. Water drips from stalactites, plopping down into puddles surrounding your area.

You gesture towards the shrine carelessly. “Give it a try. It’s what you’ve been wanting all this time right?”

Leona’s eyes widened. “What do you–” “You wanted to be free, didn’t you?” You tilt your head, annoyed. “Well, this is it. Once you do the ritual with that ring and return it to Calypso, you’ll be free of your curse. Your love.”

“No.”

Your mouth purses at the ghost’s retort.

“I want to return to her.”

Something in you snaps.

“You left me.” It is not you speaking, but the sea. It wails and groans as the wind howls. “You do not get to choose to come back to me, not now.”

Water rises with your temper as Leona begins to comprehend what is going on. The stalactites tremble, ready to collapse under the pressure the water pounds upon the rocks. You slowly reach out your hand.

“Give me back my ring.” Your eyes glow, your mortal veil falling away like sand. This is your domain, where he left you to rot and cry out for him for many nights, until you could only pick your trembling bones up and out into the world. Stripped of your emotions, left to rage and scream at the sky, as you walked along the seafloor. For many moons, you wondered if you could ever live without him. As year by year passed, you wandered dry land to forget the aching pain in your heart.

You will make him regret ever wronging you.

“No.” Leona steps forward against the sloshing tides, now up to his knees. He bares his fangs.

“I won’t.”

“What are you doing–!? Give me–” You howl in rage as your outstretched arm is snatched and you’re wrenched into his arms, writhing in anger.

“I won’t let you go, ever again.” He whispers in your ear, and the last thing you register is the feeling of metal on your ring finger.

—

“It seems like the ship was ransacked by pirates.” The old man sighs, leaning back in his rocking chair.

“Really?” The child at his feet frowns. “But that nice sailor told me all sorts of cool stories…”

The old man shakes his head in disapproval. “Loads of tosh. That superstitious lunatic would only fill your head with stuff of fairytales. Forget it.”

The child looks out their window into the horizon, the sunset leaving shadows on the waves crashing onto the shore. He blinks, and for a moment, he swears he sees the silhouette of a large ship in the distance.

He rubs his eyes, and when he opens them again, it’s gone.

“How strange…”

He could've sworn the flag was a skull crossbones.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #my works #another word barf that worked out. nice #a small twist on pirates of carribean but this time reader gets to go crazy #this is rather tame for yandere fic lol

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