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shizzlepianist · 9 months

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“good morning, dr. spengler..”————————————————-

a/n: WOOOOO my first EVER oneshot! excuse how terrible this may be, the last time i remember writing anything related to oneshots/fanfics was when i was about 11? soo if this is terrible then my sincerest apologies 😭

this is essentially an introduction between (Y/N) and Spengs, after you call for a Ghostbuster to come check out a paranormal experience happening in your home, and it just happens to be Egon.

FYI: This story uses the title ‘Miss’, when the character is being addressed, so just putting that out there first! Also, as I’m sure you’ll already know, (Y/N) and (L/N) refer to your first and last name.

There is also a usage of the word ‘God’, used in an expression-y sort of way, so if that offends anyone then please do let me know so I can change it for next time!

enjoy!! :)

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An abrupt clattering coming from your kitchen was what woke you up at nearly 4 a.m.

Thoroughly disturbed, you sat bolt upright and turned on your bedroom lamp, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and slowly moving out of bed to go investigate the mysterious noise.

Another bang.

You jumped about a foot off of the floor, before continuing and not letting your downright fear get the better of you.

Eventually, you reached the kitchen, and turned on the light. Three china plates had ‘mysteriously’ fallen out of the cupboard and smashed onto the floor. Little pieces of plate were scattered all over, much to your disappointment. As if on cue, a growling noise came from your pantry door. It took you less than a second to fling the door open and investigate what the noise was.

A vast, cloudy setting appeared in front of you, and an ancient building could be seen in the distance. “Z U U L”, cried a demonic voice.

That was it. The pantry door was slammed, the kitchen light was turned off and you were running back, screaming. Once you reached your bedroom, you wrapped yourself in the covers and tried desperately to fall back to sleep. No luck.

A few hours passed, and it was now a reasonable time to get up. You didn’t dare go near the kitchen, so you stayed in your apartment living room and turned on the TV.

You didn’t pay much attention to the TV for long, as you had your head stuck in a magazine you had found at the local newsagents. That was, until, you heard an advert on television.

“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?” questioned a friendly-looking man, whose name tag read “STANTZ.”

A second man, named “SPENGLER”, asked, “Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?”

“Have you or any of your family ever seen a spook, spectre, or ghost?” inquired the third, “VENKMAN”.

Stantz continued, “…if the panswer is yes then don’t wait another minute. Pick up your phone and call the professionals.”

“GHOSTBUSTERS,” they said in unison.

“Our courteous and efficient staff is on call twenty four hours a day to serve all your supernatural elimination needs,” Stantz informed.

“We’re ready to believe you!” was the final sentence of the advert, but even before that you had already picked up your telephone and dialled the number on-screen.

Within seconds, a Long Island accent spoke down the phone.

“Hello, Ghostbusters, how can I help you?”

“Uh… t-… there was some strange noises coming from my kitchen this morning, like bangs, and.. and clatters, and then when I checked, three of my plates had been thrown on the floor and smashed. And then, and then… I heard snarling coming from my pantry, and there was this creature in there saying “Zuul.”Could you send someone to come check it out?” You said in one long, quick sentence.

“Absolutely, just let me know the address and I’ll send someone straight to you,” the lady replied.

Sure enough, you gave her your address. “Thank you!” you chimed, before putting the phone down and tidying up a little before the Ghostbuster arrived. Playing back the advertisement, you looked at the man whose name was “SPENGLER”.

He is incredibly handsome, you thought. You were hoping on the inside that Dr. Spengler would come and analyse the scene that had occurred in your-

Knock, knock.

Jeez, how close is the Ghostbusters’ office?

You opened the door to meet a tall, bespectacled man with a charming smile and slightly curly hair.

He held his hand out and smiled, “Dr. Egon Spengler, nice to meet you.”

“Good morning, Dr. Spengler,” you replied, your tummy filling with that butterfly feeling.

“Where was the ghost activity that happened this morning? Janine, our receptionist didn’t tell me anything except your address and that you needed some help,” he chuckled, making your heart skip a beat again.

“In there,” you pointed to the kitchen door.

“Okay, has there been any more phenomena since you called?”

You shook your head.

Egon held a device in his hand that had little arms protruding out of it, slowly lowering and then getting higher, then lower, and so on, and made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, jeez, it seems you really did need our help,” claimed Dr. Spengler, directing his eyes to the pieces of china plate laying on the floor.

“What is that thing?” you asked, motioning to the thing he was holding.

“This is a PKE meter, we use them pretty often. It helps us detect how much supernatural activity there is in an area. If the arms are at a low height, then there’s little to no activity and no need for a full-blown bust. If the arms are right at the top, then it’s serious and we have to deal with it immediately. At the minute, the level of paranormal activity in your kitchen is just over halfway, which obviously isn’t ideal but not the worst.”

“Ohh,” you responded, nodding slowly.

Shuddering, Egon turned his attention to some gooey green slime that was collecting on the edge of the plate cupboard.

“Great. Ectoplasm,” he collected a little bit in a small plastic tub, before asking, “…would you mind coming back to the firehouse, just to run a few tests and to further investigate your phenomena?” questioned Spengler.

“No, no, I wouldn’t mind at all,” you smiled, leading Dr. Spengler out of your apartment, locking the door and heading down the building stairs to the Ghostbusters’ car.

When you arrived at the firehouse, the three scientists you had seen on TV, Venkman, Stantz (who had both introduced themselves to you as Ray and Peter) and Spengler were all asking you questions and running tests. Sticky pads wired up to a machine were attached to your temples, and you could see it was being managed by Dr. Spengler.

“What do you think it was that caused your plates to smash, Miss..?”

“(L/N). (Y/N)(L/N). Uh, I mean, I think it was a ghost or a spirit that did it, hence why I rang up this morning. I think it’s something like a… a.. poltergeist? Isn’t that a ghost that throws things?”

“You are absolutely fantastic, Miss (L/N). Absolutely phenomenal, that’s correct,” called Dr. Venkman, smiling and applauding you.

Egon rolled his eyes. “Venkman, will you quit trying to chat up our clients, please?” he remarked, while adjusting the tabs on your head and looking at the screen to his left.

Both you and Ray laughed, while Venkman’s facial expression was stone cold.

“I don’t think he found that very funny,” you laughed, which made Stantz roar with laughter again, and Peter leave the room.

“Alright, so your tests all seem to be normal, so that means whatever paranormal entity is in your apartment hasn’t reached you, thankfully,” concluded Egon, gently removing the testing tabs from you.

Picking up your bag and coat, you thanked the boys for their help, and made your way down the firehouse stairs.

You were swiftly followed by the Ghostbusters, who waved goodbye to you and asked you to call back if anything else happened.

As they turned away to walk back up the stairs, you called out,

“…Dr. Spengler?”

He turned on his heel quicker than he had arrived at your apartment. “Hm?”

“I- I’d like to give you this,” you slid a piece of paper with your number written on it into his hand, and smiled.

He looked down at it through his glasses, lifted his head up and smiled back.

“Thank you, Miss (L/N). I’ll make sure to give you a call at some point. Thanks again for calling this morning,” he put his hand on your shoulder, failing to wipe the smile off of his face. He was smiling like an idiot as he removed his hand from your shoulder and walked away.

When you had finally left the firehouse, you let out a sigh of relief mixed with infatuation.

God, he was handsome.

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ending a/n: help i feel like this is gonna be a flop with a capital F loool , if you enjoyed this let me know and i’ll make more ig?? have a great day/night everyone 😌😌

#egon spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1984 #egon #egon x reader

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archivistofnerddom · 9 months

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Hilarious Rebels/Bad Batch crossover idea:

Everyone is chilling on Yavin 4 in a rare moment of peace. They’re enjoying this little respite to rest and recover. The Spectres is enjoying their time together, especially since they were able to get Rex and Kallus outside to enjoy some fresh air around the Ghost.

And then a heavily-modified Omicron class shuttle from the late Republic and early Empire era comes in for a hasty landing. It’s an . . . unusual approach to say the least, complete with a specific turn and a touch-down that few pilots would dare to attempt.

Everyone, especially the Spectres, are interested in what this means.

Hera remembers this ship and what its occupants did to help Ryloth during the early Imperial period. Kanan gets leery, by contrast, since he remembers Kaller.

And Rex just laughs, gets up, and casually strolls over to the shuttle.

When the shuttle opens, a blonde woman emerges from inside like a bat out of hell, rushing over to hug Rex. He is equally as excited to see her, retuning that big hug with equal enthusiasm. The spectators can hear the gonking of a GNK droid echoing from inside.

The woman is wearing an amalgamation of several different clone trooper armor pieces with some unique adaptations. Zeb is the first to comment on the massive knife attached to her thigh and the smaller one sheathed on her forearm. Kallus responds with an observation about the Zygerrian bow she’s carrying. (Using that weapon takes practice and skill.) Ezra is intrigued by the unique design of the helmet she’s carrying, especially with the skull motif on it.

Before anyone can ask who this woman is or how she found the Rebellion, Rex asks, “So, why do you need a cover story when your brothers call me in a huff?”

The woman grins and pulls out a ratty old red bandana from a pouch on her hip. (She’s got more pouches than seem necessary on her person, but she seems to know what is where.) That makes Rex howl with laughter.

“It was either this or Echo’s legs . . . and I already stole those as a prank three times,” the woman replies. “This was harder to steal honestly, but it was completely worth it!”

“This is why you’re my favorite sister, ‘Megs. I haven’t seen Hunter without that thing on in . . . maybe since Bracca actually. You know he’s going to call me to see if I know where you are, right?” Rex tells her.

Neither seem to notice the audience growing around them. With that landing and the age of the shuttle, how could there not be an audience? If they do notice their audience, they clearly don’t care. Their reunion is more important to them to worry about that.

The woman gives Rex a sly smirk. “Of course, he will. And you get to witness first hand the annoyance of Hunter with a terrible haircut. Cross pulled out the clippers again while Hunter was napping.”

That seems to make Rex’s day.

“Don’t tell me what new haircut he got. I want to be surprised.” Rex finally deigns to notice the group watching him. The Ghost crew especially seem fascinated by who this woman is. He slings an around her shoulder and asks, “Why is everyone so interested in my sister all of a sudden? You haven’t seem siblings reunite before?”

“We didn’t know you have a sister,” Sabine asks carefully. (She’s fascinated by the modifications to the shuttle. There’s no way it should be in as good condition as it is at its age.)

The woman shakes her head. “Hera did. She’s met our brothers and my squad before.”

Hera grins and laughs. “I have. It’s great to see you again, Omega. How are your brothers, by the way.”

“Oh fantastic. I’ll tell you about what they’re up to over dinner, if that’s okay with you. Rex should be getting a very annoyed call any time now from Pabu. Hunter will have looked in the mirror by now. I promised Tech and Wrecker I’d record Rex’s reaction,” the newly-named Omega says.

And that’s when Kanan finally finds his words.

“How the kriff are Rex and Clone Force 99 your brothers? They’re clones - male clones,” he asks, a myriad of emotions in his voice.

Omega sighs. This isn’t the first time that she’s had this conversation.

“Well, let’s just say some of us are little . . . deviant from the standard mold,” she replies. “Though, we prefer to be called the Bad Batch.”

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mamawasatesttube · 2 months

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🪐🌸🌸🌸🌸

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

my migraines are more under control than they've like ever been (which is... still not fully under control. but it's progress!!!)

the weather feels like spring around here and can wear shorts and sandals out again and you know me. i love shorts and sandals. soon i'll be in my ultimate form (cutesy sundresses). it's so nice <3 (as long as i don't think about the looming spectre of global warming i guess).

my dog is sleeping a few feet from my desk and he's so speckled and so cute and i smile every time i look at him. hes baby

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

oh hey relevant!!! i DO have a pet. one (1) pumby. he's 90 pounds and the biggest baby alive. i Don't like posting photos publicly but i WILL throw babyman pics at you on discord if you like hehe

instead of 4 pubby pics i will provide 4 pubby facts.

he's 90 lbs and of course convinced he's a lapdog, as big dogs often are. he is also however really bad at cuddling. he can't figure out what to do with his gangly limbs and his long long body so he eventually just kind of lies down against your side because he gives up trying to get comfy in your lap.

i had to rescue him from a tiny empty planter on the back porch a couple of weeks ago because the wind blew it over and it was rolling around and he thought that was extremely scary.

i have to kill the bugs for him because he looks at a spider or a cockroach and he thinks that is extremely scary.

he needs lots of encouragement to drink from any water bowl he hasn't seen before. he approaches in a belly crawl and stays as far back as he physically can, stretches his neck all the way out, and licks from the very edge of the bowl, because he's pretty sure he runs the risk of falling in, where he might drown, and he thinks that is extremely scary.

Writers' Truth & Dare Ask Game!

#answers #adjit #my dog is not brave. in case you weren't sure.#he's a rescue and he's got past trauma for sure but he's mostly very chill and very sweet. just... also cowardly.#but it's okay because he's here to be cute first and foremost and he excels at that <3

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wiypt-writes · 2 years

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Rock N Roll People, In A Disco World

Part 17: Disco Dancing With The Lights Down Low Part 3: Do You Wanna Play A Game?

Kinktober 2022 DAY 5: Sensory Deprivation.

Co-written with @spectre-posts

Summary: You and Paul take an ‘adults’ only trip to Mexico. Sun, sea…and all the other things beginning with S…

Warnings: Bad Language, NSFW (18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction. I do not own any characters contained wihting, bar the reader and any other OCS that may be mentioned. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted/translated to any other site. Reblogs are fine and are my jam, baby!

W/C: 4.1k

A/N: Okay, look… this is just one huge big smut fest and I’m not even sorry.

Rock N Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Part 2

Hand in hand, you walked to the main beach where the cabana thatches were and as soon as you found an open one, you took a seat and waited for someone to come see to your needs.

The whole time you felt Paul's eyes on you. Something feral about it, something raw and so very real that it gave you the cold chills. Chills that made you feel alive and tingle in all your areas of need. It came to mind the conversation you'd started having earlier about a third child. Neither of you had really mentioned another after Jack, but…could you? Should you?

Your thoughts were interrupted as one of the waiters came over and the pair of you ordered your drinks.

You sat there again still sun bathing, you led on your back against the comfy lounge chair. You head so filled with thoughts that you didn't hear Paul until he touched your arm and you looked at him. "Huh?"

He snorted, "back to Earth, baby. I said I'm looking forward to dinner tonight. I have a surprise for you after."

“Dare I ask?”

He just cheekily smiled, "all good things, all good things, but I think you're gonna love it."

“I’m sure I will,” you grinned. “And I’m looking forward to dinner as well.”

"Yeah? You dressing up, Sugar?"

“I’m thinking about it.” You coyly smiled.

"I'd love to see you dolled up," he smiled genuinely.

“Well, I know you packed that navy suit I like…” you grinned, “I will if you will.”

"I'm game." He smirked.

“Oh I know, you’re game for anything. Why do ya think I married you?”

He snorted then chuckled, reaching for your hand as he sat next to you on the oversized lounge. "I fucking love you so much, baby."

You looked at his fingers as they gently tangled with yours. Then, you raised your head and smiled. “I know. And I love you too, with everything I have.”

Paul kissed the back of your hand and lingered his lips there for a moment. "C'mere..."

You shuffled over towards him, rolling to your side so you were facing him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It was soft, gentle and he held you there for a moment. Then it deepened. His tongue licking every crevice in your mouth. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were and simply melted into him, your hand sliding up and over his chest to the nape of his neck.

He groaned as your nails bit into him. Then Paul pulled back. The two of you panting for a moment. "Let's get wet," he smirked.

"I already am," you quipped.

“Fuck, Sugar…” his eyes darkened.

"Let's play a game, huh?" You suggested, slowly sitting up.

“Nah ah, I saw that movie…”

You rolled your eyes and swatted at him. "All foreplay the rest of the day, and through dinner. That's touching, kissing, everything but physical contact between the hips."

“You tryina kill me?“ He whined. “Sadist.”

"C'mon, at least I didn't cuff you to a chair this time."

“Suppose I should be grateful…”

“Hey we got Jack out of it." You scrunched up your nose. "Now, are we going for a dip? Or are you going to be pitching a tent on the beach all day?"

He flicked a brow up and then, with a downright filthy smirk, he leaned forward and his lips softly brushed your collarbone. The whiskers of his short beard brushed against your skin as he kissed up to your jawline. You sighed, your eyes closing and then he suddenly stopped. You whimpered, he chuckled…and then you suddenly realized the game you just started might very well kill you.

You dipped in the waves, playing around and splashing one another. You curled around Disco as you couldn't touch any longer and hoped a shark wouldn't come for lunch. You rode the waves and you kissed in the salty sea. The day was ending but your fun was just beginning.

After a couple of more beers and making out in the ocean again, the two of you headed back to your villa for showers and to ready for dinner. With heavy risk and deep temptation, you suggested the two of you shower together.

Paul sniggered, “no chance, babe, that’s only gonna end one way and I ain’t about to lose…”

"Suit yourself, I'll just be a bit then." You dropped piece by piece of your string bikini you were purposely saving for today on the floor of your room as you padded toward the open bathroom.

You heard Paul groan. “Sugar…this game is stupid with two ‘o’s.”

"Don't lie," you shouted, "you love it."

“I’d love to stick my dick in you,” he grumbled, adjusting his shorts.

"You said you brought your cuffs, right?"

Another groan.

You knew exactly what you were doing, riling him up in a different way. You wanted to make him about as feral as you did that Christmas Eve when Jack was made.

“Fucking bullshit, Y/N!” Came the yell as you turned on the shower.

You smirked to yourself.

The teasing continued through your last evening. Your dinner was, frankly, amazing. Washed down with champagne and a few cocktails. Dessert was delicious local sweets before you walked along the sand back.

You took your time, the laughter and jokes flowing between you and it, once more, reminded you of your early dates. Both of you had been so young, living with parents on rookies wage as you saved for your futures. Futures, which became one thanks to that fateful cut you received on duty one day causing you to accept a lift form the man who was now your husband. Your relationship had been tested, gripped by grief and fear then soothed by love and tenderness, care and hope. Then you became parents and the foundation continued to grow. And you hoped that it would never stop.

"Paul...." You said softly as the two of your neared your villa.

“Hmmm?”

You stopped walking so he would stop. "I meant what I said this morning."

“Remind me.”

"I wanna try for one more." You peered up at him as your toes tickled in the sand. "Just one. And if it doesn't happen, then we have the boys. And I'm okay with that.”

“Okay, technically that was something you said in the afternoon.” He chuckled as his hands fell to your hips.

You sighed with slight annoyance. "Potato... Po-taht-o." You shook your head.

“I’m a detective…” he grinned, “my job to remember the details.”

Now you smirked. "And a damned good one."

“Well, I don’t like to brag…” he grinned, before he sighed. One hand reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “One more…”

You nodded.

“I’m okay with that too.”

You couldn't help the grin that spread over your lips. "Kiss me, Stud."

A flick of his brow was followed by that gorgeous smile that could melt you into a puddle. Both his hands gently cupped your face as he pressed his lips to yours in a soft, deep kiss. It made your toes dip into the sand, your stomach flutter and your breath catch through your nose. He deepened his motions and you whimpered. You knew that he knew he had you right then and there and he'd won the day. Having held out this long was a big win.

“So…sun’s gone, Sugar…” his breath was hot on your face as he brushed his nose against yours.

"Sure is." You trembled, your voice soft.

“Bet’s over…”

“It was a game.”

“Potato, potahto…”

"Take me to bed, Disco."

“Oh, I’m gonna…and I’m gonna fuck you so good you ain’t gonna remember your own name.”

“Mighty big claim there, Stud.”

"I come through."

“Usually.”

You smirked and slipped away from his touch, "you're gonna hafta catch me first."

He laughed, “oh, Sugar…it’s on.”

You booked it across the sand, the chiffon fabric of your dress flowing behind you as you ran up the beach toward "home". Your hair billowing behind you. You’d almost reached the steps to the door when a pair of arms circled your waist and you shrieked. He held you from behind as you teetered into the doorway. Quickly, Paul spun you around the second he kicked the door closed behind him.

“You still suck at running.” he teased.

“How do you know I don’t just want you to catch me?”

"I always do."

“Mmmhmmm,” your hand smoothed up his chest, “so whatcha gonna do with me now?”

"I told you. Fuck you so fucking good you won't remember your name, Sugar."

You blinked up at him, your chest hitching a little at the tone of his voice.

With a bend of his knees he lifted you as if you were his new bride and carried you upstairs.

“Well this takes me back,” you giggled.

"Shhhh," he set you down at the top and what you saw stole your breath.

“How…I mean…we’ve been…”

You walked to the deck where your bed had been rolled out among the night sky and ocean sounds, turned down for the night. Tea lights were lit in surrounding. You felt Paul's presence behind you and his thick fingers pulled the tie and zip behind your neck.

“Paul…this…I can’t…it’s beautiful.” You sighed as his lips kissed the back of your shoulder.

“I told you I had a surprise.” His voice was deep, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers ghosted over your skin as he undid the zip on your dress, guiding it down to the base of your back.

When the fabric pooled at your feet, you felt his lips trail from the base of your neck and down your spine to the small of your back until his knees were to the deck. His hands reached up to your waist as he kissed the dimples at the small of your back before his hands slid slowly down to your hips and his lips pressed into the soft globes of your ass.

Fingers slid over the sides of your panties and he tugged them down ever so slowly, deftly. His lips trailing down your legs as he chased the pull of your panties. He’d done exactly the same thing on your wedding night and a hundred thousand memories flooded your senses as you stepped out of the lace.

As he stood, again his fingers moved but this time upward and around your front side.

"Do you trust me, Sugar?"

“With my life.” You soon felt something cool and silky cover your eyes. Your hands reached up and gripped his wrist. “Just…one thing.”

“Anything... "

“Take your clothes off…wanna feel you.”

"Every inch." He whispered in your ear.

You sighed as his hands squeezed your breasts and you lay your head back on his shoulder. “Yeah…please, baby.”

"I got you, Sugar." His lips grazed the shell of your ear. "It's gonna be so good."

You swallowed as his mouth moved down your neck, his hands softly caressing you. You could do nothing but sigh, soft little purrs of delight slipping from your lips. Gently he walked you forward, your eyes covered leaving you blind, and you giggled a little as your shins hit the edge of the bed

He chuckled in your ear. His hands directed your body and you were pliant to his touch. Now on all fours, you maneuvered yourself so you led on your back. It took him a moment, but you heard him speak lowly to you as he undressed.

“You look so beautiful there, Sugar. Just one thing missing…”

"What?" You spoke a little lighter than a whisper, the sounds of the night beach a nice background.

“Patience, baby…”

You licked your lips and bit your bottom lip. Butterflies of anticipation fluttered in your belly. You stilled a happy-anxious tremble with deep breaths. He was quiet, you sensed he'd gone. Then the edge of the mattress dipped and you felt his naked legs against yours, his lips gliding up your lower belly to your neck. One hand took hold of yours. There was a cool touch of metal around your wrist and a click that you had memorized in your career. He reached down and took your left hand, securing it too in the second cuff above your head. Your breathing was deep, a slight smirk curled on your lips and Paul chuckled as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Such a dirty girl underneath it all, ain’t ya?”

You couldn't keep quiet. You moaned at the assumption. "Yes," you answers.

One of his hands gripped your chin and his lips claimed yours in a dominant kiss that had your back arching, leaning into him for more. Paul used a gentle strength that had you entirely submissive to him. "Do I keep my promises, Y/N?" His breath was hot in your ear.

"Yes."

“So you know what I’m gonna do.”

"Yes."

“Tell me.”

"Fuck me so good I don't know my name."

“Damned right I’m gonna.”

"Please...."

His mouth claimed yours again, tongue licking in broad strokes into your mouth. His hands traced lines over your body as his lips followed. From your own kiss, to your jaw, that joint at your ear where he whispered complete filth. Down the column of your neck once, his hot tongue leaving its way back up. Again, lips traced every dot and freckle on your skin, across your collarbone and again a tongue between the valley of your breasts and up your sternum. Strong hands, that had seen many things, massaged your breasts while thumb and forefinger punched pert nipples.

The override of touch sense in your brain had your core nearly pulsing around nothing while you nearly melted into the sheets. You wanted to run your hands over his head, feel that buzz cut against your palm but you couldn’t thanks to the cuffs keeping them pinned to the headboard.

By the time his mouth took over from his hand, you were nothing sort of a quivering wreck. Down he went, his mouth having had its fill for now of your nipples and teeth that bit into the underside of your left breast.

He licked and nipped at your belly, the fact you couldn’t see him left you shaking as you could do nothing but wait and anticipate. And, when he reached his final prize, you were nothing short of a mess.

"Fuck, Sugar. Look at you." he groaned, his hands on your knees, holding you open.

“I can’t…” you panted, “my eyes are covered.”

He nipped the inside of your thigh and chuckled. "It was rhetorical, sweetheart.”

You squirmed a little, “do you interrogate all your suspects like this, Detective Diskant?”

"Officer..."

“Semantics.”

"Tonight," he kissed where your outer lips met your thigh, "tonight it's Officer Diskant.”

“Okay…okay…”

Either satisfied with your answer or merely bored with the small talk, he moved to your core and you felt the tip of his tongue give a flick straight at your clit. It jolted you a little, causing you to moan as he set to you. He kept a feral pace, flicks to your clit and long licks of his tongue dragging over your slit. His fingers stuffed you and he curled them into you as his palm twisted upward. A time or two his tongue slid in between his fingers and all three filled you.

You were done. His teasing alone had almost brought you off and the feel of his fingers and tongue inside you had you crying his name as you clamped around him, your body shaking, legs growing rigid.

It only set him into you further and faster.

You were panting, and normally you’d push his head away as you were so over stimulated but you couldn’t. Instead, you tried clamping your legs together in protest.

But he held you open. A starved man he was no longer.

“Paul…please…it’s too much.”

"Okay... Okay," he said softly, gently kissing the inside of your thigh. "I'm sorry."

You let your legs relax a little as his soft kisses moves across your belly.

"Imma take this off now, baby." He spoke of the blindfold.

No sooner had he removed it, and left you blinking as you regained your sight, his right hand reached up and handled the quick release on the cuffs, your wrists still always able to fit in one of his hands. Gently, he brought both your hands down and rubbed them softly, coursing blood back into the rightful place.

"Such a good girl, Sugar."

You smiled softly as you took the gentle kiss he offered you, feeling his hard cock as it nudged against your stomach. "You want some help with that?"

“You offering?” He grinned.

"You want my mouth, my tits?"

“No, I want you…”

"Get on your back, Stud."

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned and rolled over, nestling into the duvet.

With what little feeling you had in your legs, you settled yourself over him. Your hands skidded upward from his Adonis belt to his chest. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his medallion, to his collarbone and then to his scar. Your bare nipples rubbed along his own and your soaked folds glided up and down the underside of his shaft as you did so. His pre-cum leaking tip kissed your swollen and overly sensitive clit. Two large hands came to rest on your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your skin.

You bumped your nose into his. "Whatchu want, Officer Diskant?"

“Sit on it, baby…”

A different tilt of your hips and you sunk down in him. It was his turn to choke, his neck straining as he rose his pelvis to meet you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered as your head tilted back, your eyes closing all as if you were about to worship the moon. You steadied your hands at his forearms as you began to roll hips and Paul thrust upward into you.

He grunted as he felt that particular squeeze you'd give him as you hit the bottom of your roll. "Been waiting all day... fuck…to get you like this. Feels so fucking good, Sugar."

"Oh shit, that's...." Your body was responding wildly to his and your senses were on overdrive. "Oh Jesus, fuck Paul...."

"Fuck Y/N, right there…" He ground out. He was already pulsing inside you, that throb dragging along your g-spot.

"Mmm, yeah, right there, oh my fuck."

"Oh, baby girl," he coaxed. "You gonna cum for me, Sugar?"

"No...don’t wanna. Not... Yet."

"C'mon, sweetheart." Paul's body tilted upward and his hands splayed over your back as he settled deeper inside you. His lips covered your sternum and between the valley of your breasts while your hips did the work. He found the crook of your neck as his hands hooked over your shoulders from behind.

"Ohhhh fucccckkk." You were gone again, everything spinning and stars flickered behind your eyes like silver glitter.

"Oh baby, baby, baby," he purred into your skin as you came around him. With micro thrusts from his hips to ease you through it, Paul started dragging his blunt nails into your back and then again upward. You were on the cusp of the end of your orgasm when his left hand cradled your head at the base of your neck while his right trailed down your back to your left hip, his entire arm wrapping around your lower back to nestle you into him. His kissed the underside of your jaw and pulled you down with him as he led flat against the bed. He kissed you slow and deep, his tongue heavy on yours. All this while you were seated in his lap.

Your body was so pliant to his touch and moves that you easily ended up on your back while Paul caged you in with his wide and built frame. He'd refused to let his desk job wreck his beat job body and it was working for you. His arms were still bulky and he shamed every t-shirt sleeve he wore. His shirts for work were tailored as were his jackets. His chest was broad and thick, his back wide and cut. Abs that weren't as well defined as in his early twenties but still firm. And that cut at his hips, that Adonis belt, oh God did it get you.

But what you loved most, what you felt was your biggest turn on from him, was his eyes. Those gemstone blues that stared at you each and every day like you hung the moon. That would tear up easily in any sense of danger or wrong doing between you. Orbs that carried love and honor, pride and sometimes a sternness that came with his days of parenting or when you didn't exactly see eye to eye.

And a close second was that buzz cut you rallied to get those fingers in each night and that now thick beard he'd began sporting in the spring after your anniversary. Then there was that scar. That hole in his neck that healed far better than anyone imagined. The forever smooth pink skin that reminded you of the days that told of your beginning as husband and wife, the times you held fast and never gave up and now the future where love was plentiful and the opportunities endless.

The pad of your fingers on your right hand traced the lines of his face as you blindly felt around him while his lips and tongue still covered you. And, when he slowly pulled away, your eyes met his and yours flicked to that old wound. Soft and delicate fingers traced the vein in his neck, the hefty sinew of muscle, until the pad of your right middle finger circled the skin of that scar.

He swallowed, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt your fingers on his skin. And, for the first time that night, he became the pliant one, a soft whimper escaping him.

"Gimme all of you, baby." You whispered.

His eyes opened and he looked at you, a soft smile on his face. “You already have all of me, Y/N. You did from the moment we met.”

"I love you, Disco."

“I love you too, baby. So, so much…” his lips brushed yours as his hips slowly started to roll once more into you. And just like that, he had flipped. From his cheeky, slightly domineering self to this loving, almost needy man that was pressed in and against you, as if he needed to feel every single inch of you against him.

"Gonna give you a baby," he whispered, hovering over your lips. "Love on you every day until then."

You moaned at his words, tilting your lips up to kiss him. “Yeah…please…”

"One more, Y/N, one more," he whispered against your kiss.

You weren't sure if he was talking about a baby or the next orgasm you had building but either way, you couldn't disagree. His hips were rocking into you now as opposed to thrusting, his pelvis barely leaving yours as his arms kept you caged in. His face stayed where it was, inches from yours as his eyes were laser focused on your own.

The connection you felt there and then was quite literally breathtaking.

His hips kept their steady pace, your hands hooked up and round his shoulders. Lips kept kissing you; on your lips, your chin, your jaw.

"So beautiful, Sugar."

Your last orgasm built slow. Paul's rocking tempo and the pressure from him grinding over thrusting as he made love to you had your belly burning as your walls slowly gripped him with steady and long holds.

"Paul... S'close."

“Yeah, baby…c’mon…let go…”

He kept whispering encouragement and quickly enough your body responded, flooding your body in heat and pulling him in impossibly close. Your chin tilted back and you clung to his shoulders with your arms still hooked around him. Your thighs squeezed at his narrow hips. Your mouth formed an 'o' with a shuddering cry.

“Thassit…” he crooned, “oh, Sugar, you’re so beautiful when you cum.”

You heard him, heard his praise but you couldn't do more than allow your body to float away in pure euphoria.

By the time you came back to earth, he was still on top of you having emptied himself inside of you.

As Paul controlled his breathing, he kissed whatever skin he could reach on your shoulder and neck. Your hands started to move again, up and down his neck.

"Oh that was amazing," you managed in a rasp.

“Mmmhmmmm,” he mumbled against your skin. “Yeah…”

The two of you fell asleep under the stars, tea lights burnt out and the Gulf as your soundscape.

#rock n roll people in a disco world #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #chris evans kinktober #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #paul diskant #paul diskant fan fiction

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yandere-toons · 1 year

Text

I've returned with some more platonic yandere watchmen headcanons! These characters are all so interesting to write and think about.

-I feel like Watchmen would've ended differently given that Ozymandias most likely kidnapped Reader so they wouldn't be in New York when he enacts his plan. I don't think dr.manhattan would leave or that Rorschach would ask dr.manhattan to kill him. I don't think any of the watchmen characters would be fine with the idea of Ozymandias having Reader all to himself (though let's be honest, they'd all probably do the same thing under different circumstances lmao) so I can imagine there being some more conflict.

-Back when Rorschach and Nite Owl were partners, I can see Rorschach being protective of Nite Owl's sidekick!teenager!Reader even before he snapped. Nite owl would definitely fuss over any injuries they get. Rorschach would want to make sure they don't have to suffer from a horrible childhood like he did, he'd definitely beat up criminals that dare to lay a hand on Reader even more than he normally would. Obviously he wouldn't kill them since this is before he started killing, but still he would NOT hold back lol.

-Before the Keene act was passed, I can see the public cooing over Ozymandias's and Reader's dynamic. I feel like they'd love to see Ozymandias having a soft spot for Reader, and spoiling the crap out of them.

-Silk Spectre would NOT tolerate The Comedian being anywhere near Reader. Period.

-I can see Ozymandias being pretty calm about the whole "kidnapping Reader to keep them safe from his giant squid thingy abomination" thing. He wouldn't raise his voice at them if they expressed concern for where they are, or if they lose it when they find out about what he did. He'd be eerily calm throughout the entire thing, maybe even offering Reader a cup of tea to calm their nerves.

-Rorschach would definitely lose it the most when Ozymandias takes Reader. Don't get me wrong, Nite Owl becomes an anxious wreck but Rorschach would be absolutely terrifying during his and Nite Owl's investigation. I don't think he'd do his usual "break their fingers for information" thing, I think he'd genuinely straight up kill or at least threaten to do so.

-I imagine the original Silk Spectre and Nite Owl would be like a sweet grandma and grandpa to Reader. You cannot convince me that they don't go all out with buying Reader presents for their birthday or for Christmas.

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spandexinspace · 3 days

Text

Exitus acta probat

Lydea Mallor has a chance encounter with an old acquaintance.

___________________________________

Lydea never much liked Rann. It was crowded and bright, and the suffocating humidity of its dense cities and lush fields made her uniform cling to her damp skin and left her hair limp and twisted. At least until she in a fit of frustration shaved it down to a close crop. She missed the memories of dark, brilliant nights and the never-ending dunes. Nights on Rann were dull, tainted by polluting light and heavy, grey clouds.

Yet every now and then she’d still ventured outside on a balcony to stare up at the shrouded skies. As if they would suddenly open up and reveal a sight she imagined would be more familiar.

It was one of those nights she ran into him again, the child who had caused her so much grief. He was sitting on a ledge of a balcony towards the top of the hive that was L.E.G.I.ON. headquarters, his legs dangling over the edge and his elbows perched on the lower rung of the railing. She hadn’t seen him since that day his father took him away, when he was still a toddler with a newly broken iron grip on her mind. Or, she’d seen him on the holos, of course, but he looked very different in person. Small, almost unassuming. Nothing like the spectre of a person that still occasionally haunted the far reaches of her mind.

He’d returned a number of months ago to great fanfare, his father once again praising him beyond reason, then disappeared without a word after the Starro incident. Maybe she'd avoided him then, but wasn’t it understandable if she had.

She steeled herself against what might come and cleared her throat. “I thought you left.”

“I did.” He glanced back at her, long, sandy hair obscuring most of his face. His voice was bright, still that of a child more than a man.

“Yet you’re here.”

“I needed a place of respite, and my foolish father is easily manipulated into allowing me to come and go as I please. Or at least too preoccupied with that Tamaranian woman to care.”

“Queen Komand’r? You don’t approve of their involvement?” Not the subject she would have thought to bring up, but its mundanity brought ease to her tight shoulders.

“I couldn’t care less about my father’s ‘involvements’. In fact, I’d rather know nothing about them. As should you.” He pushed his hair out of his face then, now truly looking at her with his bright, intense eyes. Perhaps she should have known those eyes, but with a wash of relief she realised they were as foreign to her as any stranger’s. “What are you doing here anyway?” he continued. “It’s late.”

“I like to watch the sky, sometimes.”

“Not much to watch here,” he said, gesturing to the especially thick cloud cover. “Unless you like cloud formations, I guess.”

“No, there isn’t.” Emboldened by his calm demeanour she finally dared leave the doorway she’d been frozen in since spotting him, crossing the narrow balcony to lean against the railing next to him. How pathetic of her, a champion of Talok, to fear one such as him. Yet, she knew what he was capable of.

A thick silence fell over them then, both staring out over the city below and the sky above, pierced by towers that didn’t seem nearly as tall from up here as they did from the ground.

Lyrl didn’t seem a lot like the child she’d once known, though perhaps that was to be expected when one actually got to age naturally. She’d felt bad for him back then, as she watched the helpless way his mutant mind grappled with the realities of his young body; A mirror image of her own struggle only a short while earlier. It had been strange, even jarring, to watch him go from outshining the likes of Garryn Bek at every turn to being reduced to a crying toddler in a matter of minutes. Though she did not recall ever acting as temperamental as him she could only imagine how others had viewed her own behaviour.

“Do you remember me from, well, before your dad took you away?” she eventually asked. He once again turned to look at her.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because… I don’t know. I cared for you, sometimes, and then you named yourself after my mother and it made me so happy.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t get how you could do that to everyone.”

“If it’s an explanation you want I unfortunately can’t provide you with one. It seems like my memories of that time period are rather... insufficient.”

“You remember nothing? You just did all that for nothing?” Irritation flared in her chest, her hands clenching around the bars of the railing until her knuckles turned white.

“No, I’m sure I had a reason then. I just can’t recall them now.” He shifted, squinting up at her. “I would apologise for my actions towards you, but it seems erroneous to apologise for something I do not remember clearly enough to feel remorse over. Unless all you desire are empty words.”

“… I suppose I don’t.” She sighed, letting go of the railing. “Damn you, Dox,” she murmured, as she'd done so many times before.

He shrugged. “Blame my parents, they’re the ones who couldn’t parent for nass.”

“Believe me, I blame your dad for many things.”

“As you should.” He snorted, though there was little humour in his voice. “So, I’ve told you why I’m here, care to reciprocate? As far as I’ve been able to ascertain you’re a veritable god to your people. Surely that’s far more engaging than running dad’s youth club?”

“R.E.C.R.U.I.T.S isn’t… It’s not that. They’re good people.” She fell silent, staring off into the foggy distance. “I wanted to go home, but after what the Tyrants did to me, I’m not sure I can. I’m almost 40, physically, I should have already found a mate and sired an heir to carry on the legacy of the champions. But I haven’t, and I’m not sure I’m even ready to do it.”

Lyrl studied her, swinging his legs against the ledge, each swing marked by the dull thud of his boots against the metal siding of the building. She shouldn’t have told him. He’s his father’s son, he’d use it against her. She wrapped her arms around herself, a small comfort as she waited for him to turn her words against her.

“So, we’ll de-age you,” he finally said, as matter-of-factly as if they’d still been discussing the sky above.

“I’d rather die than go through that again.” Even though it had been many years since then she still remembered the searing pain, the way her entire body pulsated and convulsed beneath the Tyrants’ instruments, aching for days afterwards. She knew herself to be strong, but not that strong.

“The ageing in general, or the Tyrants’ version of it?”

“Whichever one hurts like theirs did.”

“Luckily for you, I know of another option.” He smiled the saw-toothed smile of a Carnian card-dealer.

“What kind of option?”

“You’ll see. If you accept my proposal.” Despite herself, despite everything she knew about him, she couldn’t help but contemplate his offer. She’d promised her people protection so long ago and had tried to uphold that the best she could, but L.E.G.I.O.N. wouldn’t last forever. It’d already fallen once. She needed to do better by them, secure her legacy and their future.

Her father had told her stories about her mother, how she’d stood brave and strong as the alliance came, and had let them take her to spare her people. He’d told her that that’s what champions do, what she would one day have to do. She’d survived the pain of ageing once, so why wouldn’t she survive it again? Why would she not live through that for her people, when her mother endured so much for their sake.

So be it if she fell into the claws of yet another green-skinned maniac.

“I’ll do it.”

“Great!” He shot up from the ground, rising to his full, unimpressive height in one fluid motion. “We’ll depart immediately, let's get to the shuttle bay.”

#l.e.g.i.o.n #lydea mallor #lyrl dox #brainiac 3 #my writing

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coulsons-fullmetal-cellist · 1 year

Text

To Catch a Thief

Featuring one Detective Tim Rockford and a certain thief

Words: 1, 985

The thief had eluded me once more, outsmarted me like a fox. I’ve been staring at the board for hours now, hoping a clue would call out to me, but nothing was popping out.

Normally, I wouldn’t give robbery my time, it just being some petty thief liberating rich assholes of their treasures. But rich assholes are loud and make one hell of a fuss about their property being stolen. I would’ve written this off as some Robin Hood type vigilante except they skipped the give-to-the-poor part.

This thief has proven a challenge to me. He’s like a flowing river; always running, being one step ahead of me, and stepping into its current would surely sweep me away, so I have to stand on the shore and hope to build a dam in time. He’s stolen from all the big-name families, no rhyme or reason to his method. No evidence: not a fingerprint or even an eyelash left behind. It’s like he’s mocking me, a spectre always behind me.

Fuck, I’m tired. I’ve been staring at this board for too long. I should take my mama’s advice and sleep on it, come back to it with fresh eyes. Driving back home, I’m running on autopilot. The darkness greets me as I open the door to my empty apartment. Not bothering to even take my shoes off, I’m out like a light as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The morning wakes me up with her horrible city noises. I slept on my bad shoulder which I regretted as soon as I moved from my slumber. Not even a scalding hot shower could each the eternal ache. It just makes the ugly scar stand out further.

Arriving at the station, I walk into a hurricane of chaos. Another robbery in the night. Once again, the thief has gone under my nose, tickling me with that feather of mockery. There was not enough cheap coffee in the world to deal with this shit storm.

“Rockford, it’s bad. The Ashford’s were hit this time.”

“What was taken?”

“All contents of their safe.”

“Don’t these people use banks anymore?”

Of course, they were making an even bigger storm in the kettle of the interview room. Priceless jewels stolen; family heirlooms gone forever. These rich snobs have all the money in the world and yet they go for the cheapest security because who would dare to steal from them? I’d never say they were asking for it, but you get what you paid for. When you pay for nothing, you end up with nothing in return. I’m sure once their insurance kicks in, they can buy new family heirlooms.

I added this case to my ever growing board and wait for another clue to call to me, but my captain was on my ass about catching this guy. His wife must be friends with these high society types. He’d always brag about the fancy parties he’d attended the night before, sipping on champagne while the rest of us have to deal with cheap instant coffee.

Sipping this cheap swill, my team formulated a plan to set a trap. The Montgomery’s were having some fancy shindig, unveiling a new work of art they purchased for some amount of money that would’ve bought be hot meals for life. Art was the first thing stolen, must’ve had a love of it before going onto things much shinier.

The whole place was swept over like a vacuum cleaner, picking up any bugs of contempt. Security cameras installed and several officers placed around the party scene, uniforms apparently being a downer in the festive atmosphere. And because my captain was attending, I also had to be on alert.

I never understood the rich lifestyle, too much spending money on things that don’t make sense. Who needs a bathroom with two bathtubs? And who enjoys the salty crap of caviar served on a cheap cracker? Give me a roof over my head and a bottle of something alcoholic to ease my pain and I’m happy.

I had to admit my heart wasn’t in it tonight, not completely on the job. I felt more of a thrill in the chase rather than waiting for a mouse to fall into an obvious trap. I was sure nothing would come of this aimless escapade. I was handed a glass of something fancy, so I settled myself down on a chair out of the way of the noise and partook of my gifted libation. Well, liquid gold does have a taste to it.

“Detective!”

I don’t remember falling asleep, the only thing I do remember was being shook awoke by a passing officer. The thief struck again. The easel empty of its work of art. The only thing left was a note.

The first clue and it was deliberately left to mock me. So either he got cocky, or we were so useless at finding even a crumb, he had to start leaving us whole meals out for us. Again, no fingerprints, not even a cobweb was disturbed. Security footage returned nothing, the phantom flying through once again.

Until next time.

“Take this to get the handwriting looked at. Notify me as soon as you have something” I managed to pass the note to an officer, the lad managing to get out before my captain came barging in, all hell following in his wake.

“Rockford! What the hell?”

I quickly rubbed the sleep from my face, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was out in the land of nod when it happened.

“Rockford, how in the hell did this bastard manage to get past us again?”

“Honestly, I only have theories. We were the only ones who knew the plan. Someone must have ratted us out or, it was an inside job. I’ll have to question everyone in the team.”

“An inside job? What kind of crazy are you talking here?”

“It’s the only theory that makes sense.”

“Sense? Tim, when was the last time you looked in the mirror?”

“I avoid it when I can.”

“Well, you look like shit is what you look like. You know what? You’re off the case.”

That hit me like a freight train running a red light.

“Boss, you can’t take this case away from me. I’m close, I know it.”

“I’m sorry but, you haven’t been the same since the accident.”

“I only got shot, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“No, I made a mistake bringing you back too early. I thought a minor case would ease back in, but it’s spiralled out of control.”

“It hasn’t”

“Ten thefts! In the last three months! Ten families robbed of their valuables.”

A dark thought crossed my mind, but thankfully my mouth had control of itself before I could say they deserved what they got. Instead, I just stood there, head hanging in shame and anger.

“You need a bit more time off. Take a vacation somewhere nice.”

I would’ve told him where to take his vacation but decided drowning my sorrows to be a better use of my time. I grabbed a bottle of something on my way out. These rich folks neither minding nor caring whether they had a bottle less in their collection.

My apartment was still empty when I returned; the sunshine reminding me of the loneliness I was set to face. Half a bottle of alcohol in my bloodstream would soon cure me of that, making my brain forget the world existed. I welcomed the darkness like a hug from my mama.

Until I was rudely awakened by thunder. The night greeted me with a display of a thunderstorm Frankenstein would’ve welcomed in his madness. And a creature was on the prowl, making me aware that I wasn’t alone in my apartment. The goosebumps on my arms prickled, alerting me to a presence close by. Drawing my gun I proceeded to hunt down this bastard once and for all. He was a sneaky one, I admit, slithering away out of sight while tempting me with that Forbidden fruit. I swear I would just see him out of the corner of my eye, only to have him disappear as soon as I turned the corner. This twisted cat and mouse game was suddenly interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

“What?”

“Detective Rockford? I have the results.”

“Results?”

I nearly forgot what he was talking about.

“Yeah, we did a writing analysis on the note left at the crime scene.”

A sudden movement caught me by the corner of my eye.

“The handwriting doesn’t match any known criminals” he continued while I slowly approached the shadow, “All we know is that it was done on a notepad found in the house and used with a pen also found there. It’s one of those fancy fountain pens that leaks so the culprit would have smudges on his fingers but sadly no fingerprints.”

I had him now, I said I’d call back and hung up before getting a reply. He was here now, right in front of me. I raised my gun.

“Settle down there, don’t go shooting in here, you could hurt yourself.”

I slowly lowered my gun and stared him square in the eye, something about them strangely familiar to me.

“I have you now.”

“Yes, you do. But let’s have a drink first before you drag me in.”

He held up the once empty glass of mine, in smudges visible on his fingers.

“For a man who hates the rich, you sure do have excellent taste.”

“Cut the drabble, tell me how you managed all those thefts.”

“You know how I did it.”

The man in front of me was talking in riddles. Giving me puzzle pieces without showing me the picture.

“How’d you get in here?”

“You know how I got in here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Lightning flashed, showing his full form. I dropped the glass from my hand, it shattering on the floor. I didn’t remember being handed one and raised my hand in confusion, noticing ink smudges on my fingers. The thief raised his hand and I looked back into his eyes.

The puzzle pieces in my head were slowly being put back into place.

“Are you me?”

“No, I’m me, you’re you. We just, how do you say it? Have a lot in common.”

It was like looking into a mirror, literally. I’d been avoiding my reflection for months since I got shot, too ashamed to look at myself. My reflection must have taken a life of its own.

“There you were, defending some rich couple getting into their car, being held up by some petty thief. Then you, the good detective goes and gets shot defending their honour. And what do you get in return?”

My scar burned at the memory of it. I scratched away at it, so did he.

“All that pain and suffering, and not even a thank you. In fact…”

“They blamed me for letting him get away.”

The puzzle completed now; the picture came flooding back into your memory. All the pain and humiliation I was put through.

“A desk job was all I was good for when I got back to work.”

“A smart man like you being made to sit the day away in boredom? No wonder your mind started to wander.”

“A challenge was needed.”.”

“Only one you could solve. It was a fun challenge.”

“Fun indeed.”

“And you happened to get revenge against all those rich fuckers who left you to rot in the gutter.”

My smile was demonic now.

“It was fun to see their faces.”

“All to see that smile on your face.”

His smile matched mine. I thanked him with a nod, and he nodded in return. He raised a new glass and brought it to his lips. The whiskey tasted divine on my tongue.

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

Rorschach's Journal: Ink Blot Meet Cute Pt. 2

Tag: @rorschach-thumbtack

Tw: Gore and suicide

Rorschach's POV:

The streets were stained with blood... his blood. The comedian was dead. Edward Blake. an old friend, was reduced to nothing more than a memory, blasted in the headlines. Many people had wanted him dead, that was certain. The list would be exhausting, but at least I had a lead, I had the kid.

There was always a chance they were lying to me, trying to save their skin. But I'd witnessed Eddie mow down a pregnant woman in his anger, there was no way they could have taken him, not alone at least. I'd be looking at a very different blood stain if that was the case.

I adjusted my trench coat, pulling it closer to my body. As I lept down from the roof, I heard some footsteps in the ally behind me. But I knew those footsteps anywhere, his costume was distinct in both look and sound. Nite Owl.

"What are you doing here Rorschach?" Dan's voice came out distorted behind his mask.

"Assuring we arent next on the hit list. You may have moved on, but despite his faults, Eddie deserves better."

"There was no foul play."

"You don't know that. Leave me to do what needs to be done Daniel, I won't ask you again."

Daniel sighed heavily.

"At least tell me why you're watching some girl's apartment."

I groaned, my eye twitching behind my mask, before finally turning to address my friend.

"They are not, 'some girl' Nite Owl, they are integral to my investigation."

"Well do they know this?"

"Yes, I- we have a date."

"Surprised you a get a date when you never take off that mask." He jeered.

"You know what I meant. They have the information I need, I decided to get it the none-lethal way this time. No point in snuffing out a flame that has potential."

"So she's a flame now?"

I groaned once more. Why is it that he always took pleasure in misinterpreting my words?

"And what about Silk Spectre? Is she just a flame to you?" I dodged his question with my own.

"It's not like that."

"Have fun explaining that to Dr Mannhatten. You know how reasonable he is." I dared.

He shifted awkwardly. I looked back up toward the apartment. It was in a bad spot of town, though I suppose there weren't many good places left to live in this city. Their light was now on in the window. Up on the tenth floor, foolishly thinking they're hidden from any wandering eyes.

They were changing, we could both see it clear as day... well, night. But luckily it was only in silhouette. I had the wear with all to look away, but it seems Dan needed a gentle reminder in privity. I slapped him across the face, gaining his attention.

"I do hope you treat Spectre with more care than that." I scolded.

He chuckled awkwardly.

"Always the gentleman."

An inside joke, The kind you only get when you spend years hanging around the same miscreants. Nite Owl began to walk away but gave one closing statement.

"Let me know how your loose end ties up."

I made my way up several flights of stairs. I had to do this the proper way, callous and quick methods were not proper protocol in this instance. I took a breath before knocking on their door.

"Just a minute!" They called.

I adjusted my collar, as well as fixed my mask. I heard several bolts unlock.

"Smart," I thought.

They opened the door with haste, their hair dropped lazily in front of their face, blocking half of it from view.

"Your early,"

It seemed less of a question.

"Early is on-time in my line of work."

A small smirk broke on their face, as they brushed the hair from their eyes finally.

"Please, come in"

They stepped aside, allowing me to enter. They quickly shut the door, locking each bolt behind us. I watched as they walked into their kitchen.

"Tea? Water?"

I smirked under my mask. How charming. But I could see through their rouse.

"You aren't going to see my face if that's what you're after. Very few people who have are still breathing."

“That wasn’t what I- forget it. I’ll drop the hospitality bit. Photos and tapes are on the table. Anything else I can fill you in verbally from what I remember.”

It was curious, they had no interest in knowing who I was, unlike so many people before them. They poured some tea for themselves and came to stand beside the couch. I watched them carefully.

“This is everything?”

“Yeah, couldn’t get any close ups obviously. Can’t afford the best equipment either.”

I frowned. It was good work for what they had to work with. I couldn’t definitely use these.

“Look, I’m glad you came to me Kid.”

“Correction, you came to me, if we’re talking technicalities. And I thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that.”

I chuckled slightly. They really were odd. Most people were terrified in my presence. I shrugged. They sipped they’re tea carefully.

“I think he knew he was going to die.” They spoke softly, almost like they were scared to say it to loud.

“What do you mean?”

They sighed, finally sitting on the couch next to me:

“I’ve been following him for weeks. But that day, at the dinner, he acted different. He was still a dick, but he actually apologised to the waitress that day. He sold a bunch of shit at the pawn shop down the street. He didn’t even bother to lock the door when he want home. Whoever attacked him, he knew they were coming.”

They had keen observation skills. More than I gave them credit for. I heard a strangled breath leave their throat.

“God, I should have stopped it. All the sighs were there I just didn’t want to read them. He’d still be alive if I just-“

I cut them off, placing my hand over their mouth. A little harsh, but I wasn’t the best at calming people down.

“This wasn’t your fault. Edward made a lot of enemies, it was bound to happen eventually… to any of us.”

“But it is fair Rory, none of this is fair.”

“Rory?” I questioned.

They pulled back, looking embarrassed.

“Sorry, your full names kind of a mouthful.”

“Nobodies ever given me a nickname before. You know, other than the usual Psycho, Crazy Dick…”

They laughed, a bright and cheerful laugh. No sign of pity in it. It sounded nice. Like the only source of joy in this cold, stoic place. They couldn’t see me smile, and I don’t know if I was half about that or not. I couldn’t risk being vulnerable, not now, not ever.

“I don’t think I stated it, but I really am sorry for your loss. I may have hated the guy, so did half the world; but he was your friend. Asshole it not he didn’t deserve to go out the way he did.”

It was cute really, their attempt to comfort me. I patted their back lightly.

“Thanks.”

Suddenly the phone ring, and I swore I saw them jump out of their skin. Some hot tea spilt onto their thigh and they hissed. I watched them stumble over thee couch and run toward the phone.

“Hello?” They asked.

Whoever was on the other line must not have been very friendly, because their face palmed significantly.

“Put it on speak.” I demanded lowly.

I couldn’t help my tone. I wasn’t upset with them, of course not, but whoever was calling had no right to make them this scared.

“I wanted those photos on my desk yesterday.”

“I know sir! There’s been a de-“

“Don’t interrupt me you little bitch. When I ask for something, it gets done. And now your over 24 hours late. Do you wanna know what happens when I don’t get what I want?”

“You throw a tantrum.” They said, just above a whisper.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“I’d keep your mouth shut and eyes open if I were you little girl. I’ll get my hand on those photos, one way or another. Nobody betrays me and gets away with it!”

Then the line went dead. They dropped the phone and backed up until their spine hit the counter. The sound was harsh against the abrupt silence, I knew it had to have hurt. They started hyperventilating. I was no good with this shit.

I took a step forward, but stopped when they flinched.

“I shouldn’t have taken that job. I should have just kept my head down, like my father said.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Nobody who’s doing something legal pays that much for photos! Not even rich assholes like him. This is my fault.”

“He would’ve paid someone else to get those photos. You’re boss is the crook, not you.”

I took another step forward and they didn’t flinch this time. I took that as a sign.

“I should have at least called the the cops. But I-“

“Stop.”

“Edward was a dead man, despite your efforts. There was nothing you could do. But these photos, your memories, are gonna help me find who did this. To find justice.”

“There is no justice Rorschach, not in life, and certainly not in death!“

This seemed almost personal now. Like they were talking about something else, someone else.

“I should have seen the signs Rory. My boss, his Initials, that insignia, they were all that were left the day my father disappeared. Now I know what happened to him.”

“Why would he want your father dead?”

Insensitive, I know. But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“He was a Hero too. But like Edward, he made mistakes in life. He pissed of the wrong people.”

There was a knock at the door, and they jump again, this time letting out a yelp in surprise. I shushed them, telling them to stay put. As I made my way over to the door, something was shoved through the mail slot.

I picked up the envelope slowly, inspecting it. It could be laced with anthrax, but my mask could protect me from that. I heard footsteps approach from behind. I put my hand back, telling them to stop again.

“What is it?”

“Just some mail.”

“The mail man doesn’t come this time of night.” They said suspiciously.

“I know.”

I opened it carefully, no white powder. But that didn’t mean it was safe. There was no address on it, which means it was hand delivered. Someone wanted them to get this message. There were photos inside. I got so caught up In reviewing the photos that I didn’t hear them approach until it was too late. They let out a scream.

The photos were gory, that was sure. The man isn’t he photo was missing most of his fingers, his jaw ripped clean off, and both eyes cut out. He had long gashes scattered across his flesh. His arms were bent at an unusual angle, caught up in the ropes he was tied to the ceiling by. It looked like his foot had been smashed beyond repair. But there was something even more unsettling about this.

Each photo he was moved slightly. He was still alive when these were taken. I turned to see them on the floor, sobbing violently. I cringed as they began to dry heave. I set the photos down on the coffee table and knelt beside them, holding their hair out of the way as they puked. I rubbed gentle circles on their back. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry.” I finally decided upon. It was simple, but honest.

“Why are you apologising, you didn’t do this. They did!” They spat harshly.

They pushed me off them, and got up off the floor. Their legs were a little shaky but they caught themselves on the wall.

“I should have never made this deal with you!” They screamed.

I bit my lip. I’d never seen someone display such raw emotion in front of me. It didn’t feel nice to witness. I never wanted to feel the way they did right now.

“Do you really think anything would have changed?” I sighed.

“What?”

“The people you’re working for, you said it yourself, they aren’t good people. They were just waiting-“

“For me to fuck up! Which I did! If I had known my father was alive this whole time. I wouldn’t have given up, I would have kept searching every inch of this God Damn city until it killed me! I would have done anything to bring him home. Then maybe my mother wouldn’t have killed herself! Maybe I wouldn’t be the useless orphan I am right now!”

“You’re not useless”

“Yeah, tell that to your dead comrade! Go ask my father! Oh wait, you can’t. Because they’re both dead and I’m still here, fucking things up for everyone else. You know what? Maybe you should leave, cause you’re probably next. Everyone I interact with winds up dead.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t leave them. Not in this state, not when they could do something they might regret. Guilt was a powerful emotion, one I’d witnessed many of my team mates exhibit. It could eat you alive if you weren’t carful. I stepped toward them once more, but this time their step back was more deliberate, like a warning.

“I’m serious Rorschach, I’m not good for you!”

“I can protect myself… I can’t protect you.”

“And why would you do that? Huh? Did you fucking hit your head on your way here? You didn’t even know who I was 36 hours ago. And now you’re making promises you can’t fucking keep. I mean nothing to you, you got what you came here for, now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

I took another step.

“Get out!” They screamed, the sound tearing through their throat.

Another step.

Their wasn’t much further for them to go. I wrapped my arms around them, watching as they thrashed around struggling. I ignored the little hits and kicks they landed on me. There was power behind them, they would surly bruise but I could handle it.

“Put me down!” They begged.

I just held them tighter, not saying anything. After a few minutes they settled in my arms.

“You done throwing your little tantrum now?”

They huffed.

“You really know how to make someone feel cared for, Jackass.” They jeered.

“I’m new to this. Just like you’re new to my world. But now, you’re unfortunately stuck in it. These people aren’t gonna stop until you’re dead, and the everyone’s of my friends death goes away with you.”

“Then what do you propose?”

They turned in my arms, now facing toward me. Our faces were so close, I could feel the fan of their heated breath on my mask.

“We do this together. For Eddie, for your father.”

“Together?” They raised a brow at me.

I nodded, finally letting them go. The distance felt lonely now. But I welcomed it, it’s what I deserved. Someone like them didn’t belong with someone like me. We’d part ways when this mission was over, when they were safe.

“Lets kill those sons of bitches!” They declared.

AN: Tell me why I loved making Nite Owl seem mood villainous in this. Like, imagine he's on Ozmantium's side! Also awe, Rorschach melted my heart in this. I’ll for sure write a part 3 when I have time. I’m really enjoying this!

#rorschach #rorschach x reader #watchmen x reader #watch men #silk spectre #nite owl #nite owl ii #dc comics #dc comics x reader

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awindylife-writes · 2 years

Text

This Time Around (Chapter 2)

Chapter 1, (here), Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (ongoing)

Relationship: third Doctor x reader, Sarah x reader (platonic), Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart x reader (platonic)

Summary: the Doctor can't explain what you made him feel and discusses what he knows about you with Sarah and the Brigadier.

Warnings: graphic description of injuries

Author's notes: okaaay chapter two here we go. I hope you enjoy, tell me what you think.

The concepts of bond-mates and visible personal timelines belong to @inthisformiambadwolf.

Doctor Richards and his nurses took over as soon as you were on the gurney and a nurse ushered the Doctor, Sarah and the Brigadier into the waiting room just outside the sick bay.

When the Doctor stepped through the door after Sarah, his thoughts were still a whirlwind. He sat down on a bench and hardly heard the nurse as she asked something about how you acquired your injuries.

His mind was caught on the moment he'd first seen you, on the way your blood had gleamed in the light, darkening your jacket. Your shoulders had risen and fallen rapidly with your shallow breathing, there had been terror in your eyes, and strength in them to hold on, to go on. Your ashen skin had glistened with sweat, baby hairs plastered to your forehead, your once-white shirt had been wrinkled and grey with dust, and your trousers with smears of brown all over them had been torn on one knee. The hemp of your jacket had felt stiff against his skin and the memory of the weight of you in his arms, of your head on his shoulder clung to him.

The Time Lord unconsciously ran his thumb over his lower lip as he thought. He didn't even register it when the nurse left and minutes slipped past him, unnoticed.

The sight of your brilliant eyes rose before the Doctor as if you were still there, tucked against him. The unbridled joy you'd felt when you looked at him had spilled out in a radiant smile and had ignited something precious in his chest. He scarcely dared to think if it, that impossible, wonderful warmth, for fear it would disappear. Only there, in his mind, he could admit that he'd felt understood, he'd felt home with you in his arms. How? How was that possible?

With all those details and emotions swirling in his head, he couldn't understand. He needed more, more information and more of you.

The Brigadier shared a look with Sarah. Neither of them had any more than a clue as to what had happened, and the man who should was staring into the distance, lost somewhere in his head.

The Doctor took a deep breath to center himself and was immediately overcome by the scent of something metallic, coppery sweet and almost musty. When he turned his head towards it, he came face to face with his shoulder and instantly understood. The green velvet of his jacket was damp with brown, almost dried blood. Your blood.

His nose crinkled in aversion and he remembered the much more prominent smell of blood he'd noticed when you arrived. Along with it had come the acrid smell of sweat and smoke and the tang of residual tangential energy. Now, judging by the spectre of the light discharge and the scent of the transferral, you must have come via a smaller, personal teleporter which should be found in your possession and confirm his hypothesis.

If he was right, and he usually was, you weren't from this planet, perhaps not even from this time and he reproached himself for not paying attention to your timeline, that information would have come in handy then. In any case, a device capable of instantaneous interplanetary transport wouldn't be easily accessable even in the far future. Only the legal authorities, the rich and the unsavoury would be able to obtain it, and that spelled trouble. That meant someone powerful was involved, and someone powerful just might come looking.

No. A burning protectivness flared in the Doctor at the thought, surprising him with its intensity. He'd felt anger, and sorrow when he'd seen people be harmed before and he'd always wanted to stop it from happening, but he'd only known such a deep driven instinct to protect when- a gun to Joe's head, blood on Liz's cheek, Sarah screaming his name- He flinched from the memories and brought himself back. This day kept getting curiouser and curiouser.

"Doctor," Sarah-Jane cautiously nudged his arm as she sat down beside him, "Would you mind explaining what just happened?" She had had enough of waiting.

"Hm?" He blinked and realized what she'd asked. "Oh, well," he threw a glance at the Brigadier, "whoever she is, she came here using-"

"Whoever she is? Don't you know her?" Sarah frowned in confusion.

"No," the Doctor answered quietly, rubbing his brow. "No, l don't. Its most puzzling." He wished he did, perhaps some of this would make sense then.

"But she seemed to know you," Alistair joined in. "Very well, l might add."

"I know. I've been wondering about that myself," he admitted. The blissful look in your eyes flashed in his mind and he ached to know you as you knew him.

He took a deep breath and began again, shaking his head, "In any case, she must have come here using a teleportation device. I could smell the excess tangential energy and the light we saw just before she appeared was a result of the power exchange involved." He leaned forward on his knees. "So she doesn't come from this planet, perhaps not even this time," the Doctor frowned, "but what worries me is that that mode of transportation isn't used for leasurely travel, and it isn't cheap. It is or will be used by whatever government or private party that can afford it, which by itself means trouble."

"And she arrived hurt," he murmured, to himself more than others.

"Doctor," Alistair was NOT pleased, "a supposed alien just teleported into my hq and recognized you, but you don't know anything about her. Do you mean to tell me now that enemy agents might come after her?"

"Yes, Brigadier," the Doctor smiled wryly. "Although it would be extremely difficult to track her down over a large distance in space and almost impossible to track her through time..." He nodded. "Yes. Powerful people don't give up easily, so there is a slight possibility."

Lethbridge-Stewart nodded with a sigh and the Doctor knew this didn't make his friend's job any easier. "Look, old chap, the only thing we can do now is help her and stay vigilant, there's no one else who can deal with this."

The Brigadier found the Time Lord's eyes and nodded gravely. "I know. She better stay here, where we can look after her."

"Good," the Doctor smiled. "And you never know, her possessions might reveal something before she wakes up."

Alistair took a deep breath, "Very well," then looked down the hall, remembering, "I do have other duties to attend to, so we'll discuss the details of her extended stay later." He directed his gaze at the Time Lord, "May l ask that you keep me updated on her condition?"

"Yes, alright," the Doctor agreed, it wasn't like he was going anywhere. The jumble of questions in his head wanted answers, and the mess of feelings knotted in him demanded he stay.

"Thank you," Alistair smiled. "Then l will see you both later," he nodded at the pair as a way of goodbye, then turned on his heel and left.

"You really don't know her?" Sarah asked again when they were alone. She remembered your adoring smile and she just couldn't believe...

"No," the Doctor pressed his lips together, "But with me being a time traveler, she could very well be from my future, as opposed to my past." He shook his head. "Anything is possible."

"And you can't remember your future," Sarah murmured, thoughtful.

After looking around the now empty hall, she smiled at him. "Want to play checkers while we wait?"

The Doctor grinned and started rummaging for the board in his bigger-on-the-inside pockets.

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nervousladytraveler · 1 year

Note

Dare I ask, could you give us some snippet from Like someone… sequel?🙈

@veryflowerobservation Any time! The good news is that I'm happy to share wee snippets of that project whenever I'm asked. The bad news is that I don't think I'll post any of it to AO3 until the whole thing is complete (I've come to believe serial posting hurts my writing process but more on that later). Here's a rough (very unedited) bit that takes place about 5 months after the epilogue. The lines in bold are lifted from The Miller's Dance (and played with). Don't worry--it's not the putrid throat. And thanks for the ask!

---

“Oh, hello Ross,” Demelza whispered hoarsely into the phone. Ross could tell at once something was amiss and that she was trying to hide it.

“Did I get you at a bad time?” It was better to coax information out of her. If he asked her outright she’d be on the defensive.

“No no, I’m just,” she paused and coughed, careful to move away from her mobile as she did so. Still he could hear how it caught in her throat, jagged and raw, almost like a dog's bark.

“Demelza?” he said gently but with an undisguised firmness. “You don't sound well.“

“Thanks, Ross. And I thought I sounded like a sexy old movie star,” she laughed. Then the cough returned and he could imagine her wincing in pain. “Yes, yes, I’m under the weather. I made it to my lecture today but then came straight home and haven’t moved since. It’s some stupid flu or somethin’...”

“Something? What are your symptoms, besides the sore throat?”

“Well, that’s enough really--it does feel like razor blades--and I ache all over,” she sighed.

“Sounds like the flu. Any fever?”

“I dunno. I don't have a thermometer--well not one for humans anyway. But I don't feel warm--I’m really cold in fact.”

“Bundle up and get in bed. Take some paracetamol and drink loads of fluids,” he said. He knew all the things he was supposed to tell her but somehow his words rang empty. She needed more than chicken broth and a hot water bottle--she needed care. The one thing he couldn't give to her from so far away.

“Okay, Ross, maybe I’ll do that.”

“Maybe?” he laughed. Still, she was more agreeable than he’d expected. That wasn’t a good sign. “I’ll ring you later to check in?”

“Yes, I’ll keep my mobile next to my pillow.”

“Take care, my love.”

As soon as Demelza rang off, he wasted no time texting Caroline for back up

“Poor thing! I’m in London for the week,” she replied. “I’ll let Hugh know. He should be back at the flat later tonight.”

Ross looked out the window at the grey February sky and tried to weigh all the facts in front of him. The weather forecast did call for snow but not until later that evening. It was not quite a three hour drive but if he left now, he could be in Bristol before dinnertime.

All he’d need to do is make one phone call and pack an overnight bag. Maybe he should pack for a few days--he had a meeting in Exeter on Thursday afternoon, so he could stay until then.

Nowhere in his thinking did he consciously acknowledge the spectre of Hugh Armitage or the need to get to Demelza before Hugh did.

---

Ross rang the bell to Demelza’s flat then stamped his feet on the pavement in a futile attempt to warm them. For the duration of the drive, the heat had blasted on his face but he couldn't get the vents properly adjusted to circulate to his lower extremities as well. It was frustrating enough to make him miss his old truck. Three hours was a long time to be sitting still in the cold and he wasn’t sure he had much feeling left, certainly his toes felt numb. Still he felt good about his overall timing--the first flakes of snow had only begun to fall just as he parked the car.

There was no answer but rather than feeling impatient, he felt guilty about rousing her if she was asleep. He knew her neighbour held a spare key and was considering ringing her flat when the intercom crackled to life.

“Yes?” A familiar voice croaked.

“Demelza, love, it's me.” Before he had a chance to say anything further--like explain why he’d come--she was already buzzing him in. Once he stepped inside, he could hear the locks opening on her flat door two floors up.

“Ross! Oh Ross!” she called down the stairs. He looked up to see she was in her pyjamas and had some sort of blanket wrapped around her.

“Stay there,” he said, relieved that she was happy to see him. Did he expect she might not be?

“In fact, go back inside,” he said and took the stairs two at a time.

When he finally met her at the door, she threw her arms around him. He felt her damp face as she buried it in his shoulder. He didn't need to put his hand of forehead to know she was burning up.

“Oh Ross,” she gasped. “I can't believe you came. You came for…”

“I came for you. But let’s get you back to bed.” He realised he was speaking to her as though she were some fragile creature.

I’m not a bird with a broken wing, he remembered her saying once.

“Don’t argue. To bed.” Ross dropped his bag at the door so he could put his arm under her to help her walk, ready to carry her if she so much as stumbled.

“I’m alright, I really am,” she tried to smile as she crawled into the dishevelled bed.

“Of course you are,” he said, and smoothed the sheets out next to her and tucked the duvet around her legs. “Sit up,” he said gently, and turned the pillows over to reveal the sides that were a bit more fresh.

“I can't believe you came all this way,” she muttered but he’d already left the room.

When he came back he had a glass of water and a blister pack of paracetamol he’d found in the bathroom.

“Have you taken any recently?” he asked.

“No, I know you told me to and I meant to but I was so sleepy so I just went straight to bed. I’m sorry, Ross…”

“Don't apologise to me, but you’ve a fever and we need to bring it down,” he said. “Okay, take two. And no matter how you may not feel up to it, you have to drink the water.”

“Ouch,” she whimpered as she tried to swallow.

“I know.” He patted her knee. “I’ll make some tea with honey in a moment and that will go down easier. How’s the…” he began just as the cough he was so worried about chose that very moment to rattle about in her lovely chest. She tried to turn away but her whole body shook. Ross wanted to pull her into his arms and crush her body to his and absorb her pain.

“Here, let me,”he said instead and put a cool wet flannel to her forehead. She shivered and he took her warm hand in his. She squeezed back and he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

“Ross,” she whispered. “Oh Ross.”

“Hey hey,” he smiled but felt his eyes were growing wet too. Demelza was usually so strong, so stubborn and to see her tonight so vulnerable, all her defences down? It pained him and touched him at the same time. He also wished he could bring her home. Well this flat was her home now but she’d rest easier back to Nampara.

“I’m here,” he kissed her temple and stroked her hair. “But don't talk now. We’ll catch up later.”

“You can stay with me?” she asked wide eyed.

“Of course--for a few days or until you’re better. Close your eyes.”

She did as she was told and after several deep breaths she fell asleep again. He switched off the light and went to work.

He had it in his mind to make tea and after searching all her cabinets he finally found a passable pot of only partially crystallised honey. Then he thought better of it and decided he should wait until she awakened to switch on the kettle. Instead he did the washing up that had been left in the sink and sourly hoped the dishes he was cleaning had been hers and not her flatmate’s.

Ross looked at his watch. She’d probably sleep for some time--maybe even the whole night. Sure tucking her into bed had brought her a moment’s comfort but no real relief. He’d have to do better if he was to be useful.

But first, he’d need the keys to her flat. He hoped he could find them without rummaging through her handbag.

---

“Ross?”

As soon as Ross had turned the key in the lock he heard Demelza’s hoarse whisper call out to him. He moved quickly inside the flat to find her bundled up on the sofa, sitting in the dark.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked, trying to both assess her state and contain his panic. “Are you okay?”

“Don't be cross--I woke up and found you gone and then I felt lonely so I thought I’d watch some telly.”

“Looks like a good programme." He nodded towards the blank screen.

“Well there was nothin’ good on,” she said. “Where did you go, Ross? I was worried.”

“Sorry, my love.” He perched carefully next to her and gave her a reassuring kiss. Perhaps she felt less feverish than before? It was hard to tell so he kissed her again.

“I went in search of reinforcements,” he explained and showed her the bag from Boots. “I wasn't sure if lozenges or syrup was better for your cough so I bought both. Plus some tissue--have you been sneezing?”

“No, not even a runny nose,” she said proudly.

“Well that could change.”

“Would that please you? she smiled.

“Yes, immensely. And I got this,” he said, holding up the thermometer. “I’m afraid it’s the old-fashioned kind that goes in your…”

“Please say mouth,” she said. “I guess if I were a real grown up I’d have all that in my own medicine cabinet,” she sighed.

“But you do at least have your own medicine cabinet so that’s a start. Besides, Demelza, the only reason I’ve a thermometer at Nampara is because my father or Prudie or some other adult bought it years ago--certainly not me. And I think you’ve demonstrated your maturity in other ways.”

“Thank you Ross,“ she said. “Thank you for everythin’...Oh! Are you hungry? I forgot to even ask! I can make you some...”

“No, I’m fine. I stopped along the way,” he lied. “But what about you?”

“You know what they say ‘starve a fever, feed a cold’?”

“No, I’ve never heard that. But if you are worried about whether you are adult enough, quoting old wives is a good place to start.”

“It's probably not even true. But as far as conventional remedies go, I suppose it’s better than blood lettin’...”

“Or leeches,” he added, glad that she was feeling up to making jokes.

“Or laudanum. Is there any of that in your old medicine chest at Nampara?”

“Yes, but it’s only to be used for dropsy.”

“You just made that word up.”

“No, it's an old medical term like grippe or ague.”

“Well I do feel like I have a brain fever,” she said.

“I hope not, Miss Dostoevsky. But it might be quinsy,” he laughed. “Here put this under your tongue.”

“Whazzle muh tah?” she muttered.

“That’s a good language, but I’ll learn it some other time.”

“I was only remindin’ you that you’d promised you’d make tea,” she said, taking the thermometer out of her mouth to speak.

“And I will in due course. Have you finished chattering for a moment?”

“Yes. I have now.”

“Restrain any further thoughts that come to your mind. We’ll have to start this all over again,” he said, looking at his watch to record the time the thermometer went back in.

She opened her mouth again then laughed as he playfully put his fingers to her lips.

“Uh uh uh,” he chided.

This time she opened her mouth and closed her teeth on one of his fingers, but not hard.

“I see the fever has made you vicious. Perhaps you have the horrors,” he said, having recovered his finger. “Anyway, now that you mention it, if your aim is to become one of those old wives, I do see a resemblance.”

“Would you like to put your finger in again?” she asked quickly, then closed her mouth again around the thermometer.

He chuckled and put his hand on her knee.

“I’ll go make that tea but then you’re off to bed. No excuses.”

----

Her fever was no longer raging but still very present--38 degrees--and now that he had numerical data on his side, it was harder for her to argue. She drank her tea, chose the cough syrup over the lozenges which had the added advantage of providing her with a sleep aid, then she crawled back into her bed.

“Where will you sleep?” she asked just as he was about to switch off the light again.

“I’ll take the sofa,” he said casually.

“Oh yes, I do see that you'd probably want to stay clear of me and my contagion. Plus I probably stink…”

“You don’t. Somehow you manage to look--and smell--lovely as ever, even when unwell. No, I just thought you’d sleep easier if you were alone and not worrying about keeping me awake,” he explained.

“Maybe, or maybe I’d sleep easier if I knew you were next to me?” she said then let out a violent cough that shook the whole bed. Her crestfallen face told him she now saw his point. “You can take Caroline’s bed. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“No, the sofa is closer to you,” he replied.

“You win,” she sighed. “There’s an extra pillow and blanket in the cupboard in the hallway.”

“I’ll check on you in an hour,” he reassured her. “Good night, my love.”

“I love you, Ross,” she murmured, then turned into her own pillow.

----

Ross didn’t want to admit--to Demelza or to himself--the real reason he turned down sleeping in Caroline’s bed. The thought of being so intimately close to Caroline’s private things had somehow felt a bit intimidating to him. But now as he stretched out of the sofa--or tried to--he saw he might have made a mistake. This one was wider than his sofa at home and was very soft. In fact he sank rather deeply into the cushions. But it was just too damn short for his height. He pulled in his knees imagining he’d be rather stiff in the morning. But it wasn’t the less-than-ideal sleeping position that kept him up. Ross was listening as closely as he could to every sound--every grunt and every breath--that drifted out of Demelza’s open bedroom door.

He must have eventually fallen asleep and woke with a start when the living room light switched on suddenly.

.“Ross? Mate? What brings you here?” Hugh laughed as he put dropped his keys on the table by the wall.

#poldark #poldark fanfic #lucretiassister #demelza carne #poldark modern au #likesomeone sequels #ask nervousladytraveler

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ectogeo-rebubbles · 1 year

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👀🙋‍♀️❌🏆

Ohhh, thank you, so many emojis!!! <3 (This is for the fanfic writer emoji ask game)

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

My partner has read about half of my fics, and I feel so lucky to have his support! <3 <3 <3 He is always blown away by my writing (partially bc the only other fanfics he has read besides mine are the fics that he used to host for people on the fansite he ran, back in the day), which is really adorable and always a much appreciated ego boost for me, hehe. I also sometimes, when I am feeling very daring, tell my irl friends that I write fanfic (but not the fandom, or at least not the ship). XD Oh, and one of my siblings knows I write fanfic AND the ship I write for, but like... I am confident they will not find my fic, bc I cannot for the life of me get them to watch DS9 despite my best efforts lmao.

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Coffee shop AU.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

the spy who married me by both kudos and bookmarks! ^_^ Honorable mentions: latent attraction by hits (aka Highest Number of Chapters Award!), so, I lied, I cheated by comment threads (aka Most Likely to Induce a Response of "Bestie, You Are Insane for This" Award!), spectre by subscriptions (aka Longest IRL Wait Time Between Chapters with an Unresolved Cliffhanger Award!)

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I think I’ll tell you about a number of them (below the cut), bc I am kinda in the mood to hype up ALL of my ~active wips (...as opposed to the mood I would need to be in to actually write any of them lollllll)

-Julian reveals his augment secret to Garak in a roundabout and indirect way, accidentally causing Garak some angst in the process. But it’s mostly about them both submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known (in order to be loved), together. This is actually a follow up to one of your short fics, sapphose, you wrote this scene about Garak pouting about having to get an annual physical and it gave me An Idea.

-A romantic and smutty, 30-years-later, old!married!garashir fic where they reminisce about the day they met. <3

-A ridiculous By Inferno’s Light oneshot where Julian and Garak have to make out in order to distract the prison guards. Do NOT ask me how this is a good, sensible plan (it isn’t, just roll with it, haha).

-A much more serious In Purgatory’s Shadow/By Inferno’s Light fic multichapter, that is a set of canon compliant missing scenes. And it’s a Garashir getting together fic too, of course, bc I know what I’m about.

-A sinister and smutty Siskarak oneshot (with background open relationship garashir and siskasidy), set a bit before Inquisition. Sisko and Garak have already cut a deal or two with s31/Sloan to give them needed advantages in the Dominion War, and now they are trying to decide what to do about Sloan’s latest demands. And obviously they are having this loaded conversation while banging.

-Every once in a while, I still daydream about rewriting and reworking my post-“The Quickening” mad!scientist!Bashir horror fic that I rough drafted ~2 years ago. Not actively working on this one but like... what if I did? What then?????

Folks, feel free to send me more emoji asks, and I will of course share multiple snippets if people ask me to, haha! XD Force me to write/edit each of my fics snippet-by-snippet simply by bombarding me with emojis, lol!

#ask game #fanfic writer emoji ask

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daniigrimm-blog · 1 year

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Can we just take a moment to simp about the newest album drop by Black Veil Brides, The Phantom Tomorrow, released October 29, 2021. I know, I know, I maybe should have wrote this post like two years ago but really I had a lot to do in the meantime and wanted to give it the true justice this piece of art really deserves. This release is the second album drop since the band's decision to part ways with former bassist Ashley Purdy, (the first basically being a re-master of their former masterpiece debut album "We Stitch These Wounds", now dubbed cleverly, "Re-Stitch These Wounds") and now this! Can I just say, WOW-wowie-wow-wow-wowzers! omg I am just BLOWN away by what has gone into this piece of art and I feel blessed to be born in a time where I got to truly experience its release. Just wow. Welcome to the band Lonny Eagleton, with a resounding, please please don't ever leave.

Tracklist:

The Phantom Tomorrow (Introduction)

Scarlet Cross

Born Again

Blackbird

Spectres (Interlude)

Torch

The Wicked One

Shadows Rise

Fields of Bone

Crimson Skies

Kill the Hero

Fall Eternal

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Oh hey did you know that Black Veil Brides released a COMIC BOOK?! It apparently goes right along with this masterpiece of an album because WHY NOT? Siri, can you add "Buy The Phantom Tomorrow comic" to my to-do list? Hell yes. I bought Andy's Ghost of Ohio when it dropped so ya know ya girl is gonna hop this band wagon. And who wouldn't? With such an awesome story and a crazy ass cover like that? Name two people, I bet you cant. And if you can I don't believe you.

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From the mouths of babes, as they say. And man is Andy a MAJOR babe. Anyhoo, I figured I would save ya'll a track-by-track personal breakdown because who can do it better than the guys themselves? Amirite? I will say this though, this album feels WHOLE. It feels full. It feels like a really well-rounded album. I'm not a musician myself, but I LOVE music, and I have been watching a lot of different bands grow and rise and it has been an absolutely AMAZING ride. But this band, what a well-rounded flushed out sound they have come to grow into as each individual has honed their craft or joined. And before any of you ask my personal favorite off this particular album is Torch. It's on my On Repeat on Spotify for a reason--but I digress...that brings me once again to Lonny.

Lonny Eagleton

Who is Lonny Eagleton you ask? Well, he's a sweet boy from Canada who joined the BVB family, and man does he fit RIGHT in. Well, his website Bio boasts he's a professional musician who has worked with multiple recognizable names in the industry, that he's done his fair share of arena/theatre based tours, and a plethora of other hidden talents all backed by a degree. I mean, that's impressive enough but man he is humble and sweet to boot! I don't think I am out of line when I say that the BVB family has scored big with this addition to the band--especially if the "The Phantom Tomorrow", and the latest ep drop (October 21, 2022) "The Mourning" are any proof of what is to come in the future.

Now that brings me to "The Mourning" EP which I am also very late to mentioning (at least here!). It's four tracks of powerful music that speaks from and to the soul directly. Clearly what went into this was some powerful storytelling, some genius mastery, and some amazing skill-work. Dare I say, that the older these boys get--the more they manage to master their craft? But it's true. And being someone from the sidelines watching them grow, has been a most satisfying experience--man am I PROUD to be in this fandom. NOT TO MENTION the totally amazeballs producer they have, Erik Ron who handled this ep and the previous album before this. Way to rock out with that cock out Erik!

Tracklist:

Devil

Saviour II

The Revival

Better Angels

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"How the fuck is one so evil left to just proceed? All the luck and how deceitful that idle minds can be." Lyrics from Devil really hit close to home some days, especially if you're currently living in America (and I am). It's clear from the tone set by the melody of the guitars when the track first open-fires on your eardrums for an eargasmic explosion of what can only be described as pure Black Veil Brides energy. Straight from the speakers to your soul, Andy Black truly has a way with words and the boys on strings (Jake, Jinxx, and Lonny) really know how to nail it home and build a mood to a harmonious climactic point before bringing it smoothly back down again. And may I say, that CC has really just been on fire these last few albums? He is really kicking some ass behind that kit and I think it's fair to give him a mention for it.

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In softer tones Saviour II was second on the EP and set a more serious and tender vibe. A soul bearing ballad needs to be on every album right? At least that seems to be a theme for BVB that I personally hope never dies. They do amazing with a good somber heartfelt melody and these new lyrics that sort of offer different softer, more human side to the Saviour we as a fanbase were used to. The first being: "So hear my voice, Remind you not to bleed. I'm here." the message being a strong voice offering a shoulder to lean on here. A superhero almost. Whereas, the second, "So I'm trying my hardest to be what you made, Like a court jester, my smile won't fade. Giving it all, rising to fall to my grave. Answer the call, living in thrall-You're the one born to save." Is a tooootally different vibe. Like someone human just trying to make it through each day. So-so so good.

The Revival is the third track on the EP and it unfortunately didn't get a video but is still really cool and definitely worth a mention. It feels like Saviour II worked right up into this song. I'm sure they did that on purpose but I can hear/see a story playing out before my very eyes. Maybe my imagination is running a little high, but they have a habit of writing a whole ass story and following it up with a rock opera--so I am not sure because I looked all over for like a track-by-track breakdown and didn't find one (so if anyone has one and can link one to me that would be sugar and spice!) but nevertheless the instrumentals in this song are fire but from 2:19-2:35 it is just the best musical soup I have ever tasted. There I said it. I can say it. It is hot fire.

That brings me to the final track on the EP, Better Angels. I think instrumentally, and melodically, Better Angels may actually be personally my favorite track. Lyrically it is one of the coolest things I have ever heard. I came from a really strictly and very strangely repressed religious background and when I hear the stories told in these songs tied up in some sort of religious metaphor it really resonates and I know I am not the only one in the fanbase that is dealing with these issues. "Go back to hell with all your demons-leave me alone to find the pieces inside my mind. They came in to control my life. And all the devils devour- Your better angels devour." Whether it comes from a religious place or not, that is a pretty fire chorus, you have to admit. Not to mention the absolute MELTDOWN I have inside my head when the guitars (2:35-2:50) fuckin slap my dudes! I am telling you, if you haven't heard it already, please do--your life will be more complete because of it. It's one of the prettiest things I have ever heard ringing in my ears.

Really can't wait to see what Black Veil Brides has in store for us next! I mean between the comic-book, the album, and the ep, I'm already pretty stoked and I literally have no fuckin clue outside what Andy has mentioned in recent interviews! But I will be keeping my eye out! you bet!

Also before I go please enjoy this acoustic set I found on Youtube.

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SUPPORT YA BOIS:

http://facebook.com/blackveilbrides

https://twitter.com/blackveilbrides

https://www.instagram.com/blackveilbrides/

#Youtube #black veil brides #black veil army #bvb #andy black #andybiersack #lonny eagleton #jake pitts #jinxx bvb #cc bvb #phantomtomorrow #the mourning #music blog #music #bvb army #bvbarmyforever #erikron

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