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n3ptoonz · 4 months

Text

'Sigh of Relief'

Pairing: Kuai Liang!Scorpion/GN!Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut!!! Explicit!!! technically exhibitionism/public sex, implied size kink??, mutual sexual frustration, missionary to doggy, creampie, you two are like some horny ass teenagers, not proofread

Word count: 1.8k+

shoutout @valyrra for the prompt she came up with that inspired me writing this!!

additional tag: @genesiswrld since you were there in the comment section LOL

Explicit content under the cut

These past few days have been excruciating for the both of you. Every spot you thought was secure, someone would always be walking past or looking for one of you. It would always start with kissing and touching, but even before an article of clothing could be lifted, you were back to ground zero.

You couldn't even help yourselves. Throughout the mission there'd be subtle moments where you'd purposely brush past his arm or his hand remained on your shoulder for a moment longer than he should've in front of everyone. It was a dangerous game to play, but that aspect alone riled both of you up to new levels.

To make matters worse, the group always moved together. Be damned if somebody were to slip away for a second to even use the bathroom. It was understandable at some points since you all were appointed for something important, but still!

Kuai Liang always held his duties with high regard and respect...but damn it was hard to focus whenever you were in uniform. The way you walked, the way you talked, the way you fought, he felt so lucky to call you his--even if your relationship had to remain a secret for the time being.

While the groups were a bit separated from each other and looking for clues in pairs, you and Kuai Liang took off to wherever looked the least occupied, hands locked with each other's. Once you reached an area deemed fit, you shamelessly started making out behind a large tree. All out of breath and quickly grabbing at each other because you both knew it wouldn't be long before someone noticed you two were gone.

He nipped at your earlobe and slightly exposed neck from pulling your uniform shirt apart with care. Your chest heaved from your breath being taken away by just running a minute ago but also, Kuai Liang just had that effect on you. His warm hands tucked under your shirt and squeezed at the flesh on your torso, making you gasp and him chuckle before kissing you once more.

"Kuai..." you mumbled against his lips, halfway caring about being caught if you two didn't stop soon. "We have to..." your words trailed off again. You hummed against him and glided your hand over the top of his head. You were mindful not to accidentally make his bun become undone because then all types of questions would arise.

He pulled away with a disappointed look on his face, resting his forehead on yours. "I know, baby, I know...I don't know how much more of this I can handle." he whispered. He pecked you on the lips before reluctantly backing up and surveying the area.

Like clockwork, you heard some of your teammates calling out your names in the same direction you both ran from. You both groan in frustration.

"You think they would freak if we didn't show?" you asked, already knowing the answer and what his reaction would be. Was he opposed to ditching his responsibilities just to take you where you stand? Of course not. But that stern look he always gives you never failed.

You didn't even need to respond since you both understood the situation at hand, it just really sucked you were interrupted before he could get into character.

Nightfall came and everyone has finally been able to settle down into their respective camps. Another painful day of barely being able to touch each other has passed, and it feels like you both will go nuts. While at the campfire Kuai Liang never took his eyes off of you. It was only the few times someone would ask him to hand him an item that he'd avert his gaze. Otherwise, the light from the fire bounced off his beautifully sculpted features and made his eyes look all the more tantalizing.

Everyone has now began to fall asleep. So you'd think it'd be simple to just sneak over to the other's tent, right? Wrong. With there being patrol shifts, the universe was truly against you two relieving stress.

You were starting to drift off while waiting for a good chance to strike. With all these twists and turns it was seeming like good sex was just not in your itinerary.

You took a quick nap, although it felt way longer than 20 minutes. You whirred awake to the feeling of another presence in your tent. When you looked up and saw Kuai Liang just chilling next to your sleeping form, it startled you. He quickly looked over and covered your mouth with his palm, his index finger up to his lips to signal for you to not be loud.

"How did you-" you said. Your question was muffled but he could put context clues together. You get that he's a ninja, but damn!

"You left your tent flap open. Was that on purpose?" he asked in a hushed tone and a growing smirk on his face.

You removed his hand and sat up to sit like he was, rubbing your eye to wake yourself up more and crawling into his lap. It's a good thing everybody was provided with roomy tents, but you probably couldn't cared less about the size especially in a situation like this.

"Maybe it was." you whispered. You held his face in your hands and gazed down at him as you kissed him slow. He kissed you back without hesitation, removing your hands to wrap around his neck. He did the same thing as earlier, except he made the attempt to remove your clothes this time. He unbuttoned your shirt and pulled the remaining over your head. Now you were half bare before him, slightly shivering from the lack of layers.

But obviously that would last long when you were with a walking space heater. He too discarded his shirt before pulling you close once again to let his lips dance with yours.

Kuai Liang gently flipped you over to lay on your back while he discarded the rest of your attire, wasting no time leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to your abdomen as more layers came off. It wasn't long until he did the same. He softly hummed in content at the sight of you before him. In his eyes you were nothing short of perfect for him. He wanted to ravish and cherish you with every last fiber in his body.

He leaned over you to where your noses were barely touching. You've made eye contact with him and plenty of people plenty of times, but it was rare times like this it made you a nervous wreck while you still wouldn't dare to look away. He looked at you with such love and respect, you'd almost forget he would wake the whole camp up if he was really about that.

"Stay as quiet as you can, okay?" he said softly, caressing the side of your face and dipping his head into the crook of your neck. He didn't even wait for an answer before filling you with all he had. It had been a long time since you've been intimate with him. His duties were always his main focus, but he'd never purposely disregard your needs. That's why it didn't bother you very much.

He wasn't huge, but he wasn't small either. A perfect medium length and width wise. It took everything in you to quiet yourself as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your own hand resting over your mouth so you don't just suddenly give the camp a scare with your moans.

He kept panting in your ear. He had truly forgotten how good you felt around him, it made him nearly start to hallucinate.

"You still- feel so good-" he said with strain. Every thrust of his hips connecting between your legs made you want to cry.

You just quietly moan in response. What else can you really do? Surely you can't call his name out in ecstasy or tug on his hair to make him do the same.

At this rate you both were nearing the finish line, but neither of you wanted to stop just yet. It had been too long of too many nights of just settling for hugs and kisses. Nothing wrong with it, but you'd never expect him to have the energy to put a dent into the mattress after a long day of leading a new clan.

He shakily pulled out, making your eyes shoot open at the lost feeling inside you. He sat up with his chest heaving and sweat running down his toned chest.

"Turn over." he said in between breaths. He took his bun out and ran his fingers through his own hair. You haven't seen him look this determined since the day he came home with recruits. You did what he wanted without question: now on all fours and impatiently patiently waiting.

If he was doing what you think he was about to...it was about to be even more challenging to not make a sound. He simply pressed himself back inside you, and before you could even think to audibly react, you now had a mouth full of his massive bicep wrapped around you. And in an instant, there was not a thought behind those eyes. Imagine a windows shutdown sound, that's exactly what's going on here.

Kuai Liang had no problem fucking you as if there was nobody else around. How he was able to make it feel like your body could fall limp at any second while keeping the sound of his hips hitting your ass at a minimum should be studied.

Your hands balled up the sleeping mat that was underneath you. If only you could see yourself now: cross eyed and drooling over being caged in like this. Kuai Liang is a big guy; it runs in the family. You didn't need to be so little in order for him to tower over you physically or figuratively.

It was about that time. The growing hot sensations in the pit your stomachs was about to pass through.

"Almost there." he huffed out.

At the climax, he pulled you against his chest and kissed you, drinking in any sound you just couldn't hold back any longer. He just held you close to him while he pumped you full of his warm seed. Once he backed up he remained still inside you, keeping your balance while you came back to reality.

You collapsed into each other's arms on the sleeping mat, still catching your breaths. You let out a sigh of relief as you held him. Thank the Elder Gods your tents were all spaced out, otherwise you would've definitely been heard. Though, nobody would dare to question the Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu or who he lays next to at night.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope this was good this took a while cause i have a cold 😵‍💫 i'm so tempted to write some of the mk cast taking care of me reader LMAOOO also happy holidays everyone!!

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #kuai liang #kuai liang mk1 #scorpion kuai liang #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang scorpion #scorpion mk #scorpion x reader #mk smut #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat smut

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 3 months

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Captain Nemo (with or without a subterranean pool to park the Nautilus)?

Hmmm!!! Now this is an interesting one!

What strikes me immediately is how much Nemo and Dracula have in common. They are both Princes. They are both obsessed with England. They are both proud and resolute. They both "I too can love." They both kidnap people. They both can enter into the spirit of the Hunter. They both have a fondness for the local "scary" wildlife. They are both real tall and value loyalty.

This could go very well or very poorly. I think the first decider is whether they would accept each other as social equals. Neither is going to react well to being denied a deference he thinks he is owed, and neither is naturally inclined to be deferential. So if the both come in with the attitude of "one Prince to another" then they'll do pretty okay. If either of them starts treating the other as his social inferior it'll get nasty fast. y.

Let's assume for the time being the former. We know Dracula has put a lot of effort into making this work, so he can play nice at the outset at least. They're well-situated for fruitful cooperation. Dracula wants secure water passage to England without too much paper trail, Nemo wants to see England wiped off the face of the earth - they can, if they are so inclined, very much help each other. Of course this ends up requiring that Nemo is always intended to leave the Castle alive, which Jonathan very much is not. If Dracula's guest is not a doomed prisoner things are very very different.

The question then becomes whether Dracula can keep it in his pants uh...mouth I guess??... and reap the full benefits of this mutually beneficial arrangement, or whether he will play Scorpion to Nemo's Frog the way he does with the Demeter. He doesn't need to eat the Nautilus to stay secret - Nemo is already a secret, he's not gonna tell anybody. Also it's real hard to disappear someone on a submarine and Nemo will NOT be pleased if he tries. There is no good reason for him to turn on Nemo ... but can he help himself?? The Devil does not keep his bargains...

The other factor of course is that Nemo has a very strong moral sense. Like yes, he wants to wipe England off the map and he sinks a lot of ships and kills a lot of people... but is he wrong??? Nemo would not be okay with the slaughter of children. But Nemo also has no reason to go snooping around the Castle and sleeping on inappropriate furniture, so he might never find out about it. Ah, but Jonathan does hear the second child cry out, and gets the story pretty direct from its mother, and Nemo is no fool. I think at that point Nemo walks on the deal, so the question is: how far does he get?

Nemo is unlikely to have any divine protection on him. But he is physically powerful in his own right, a technological genius, and he doesn't give up. His lightning weapons may not do much to Dracula (though who knows) but they should keep the wolves off him. He knows how to deal with natural predators. And... I am confident in his ability to crawl, broken and bloody, back to civilization (or wherever) after being half eaten by wolves, if it comes to that. He's a survivor.

Now, if the Nautilus is parked in the swimming pool in the crypt, he just needs to make it downstairs and then he's golden. Buuuut that requires going down the wall. I feel like he has too much dignity to climb? But again he has excellent physical prowess. But again on the other hand so did Renfield and that didn't save him when it came down to fisticuffs. So I may be just as unreasonably dazzled by Nemo as his chronicler.

I think... I think Captain Nemo can survive Castle Dracula, but it's a near thing, and only just

#20kluts #Captain Nemo #20 mille lieus sur la mer #gothlit #royalty #seafarers

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sleekervae · 5 months

Text

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom.

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #original story #original female character #imagines #imagine blog

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medicbrainrot · 10 months

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devil spawn (obligatory bug fic)

A/N: content warning for a scorpion in the shower (definitely not writing from experience...)

A calm Tuesday evening on base, and Simon is on his way back to his barracks room when he hears a high pitched shriek followed by a loud “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” coming from the women’s shower block.

“What the hell…?” Simon wonders as he changes course for the shower block, to investigate what’s so unholy.

As he approaches, Simon sees his girlfriend stumble out of the shower block, wrapped in only a towel, absolutely soaking wet.

“Jesus Christ, Hail Mary, Mercy Me.” She says under her breath as she shudders.

Simon’s eyes widen when he sees her. “Hey, are you okay? Did something hurt you?” He asks, concern evident in his eyes. “You’re dripping wet; do you want to go back inside and get changed?”

“Oh hell nah, not with that devil spawn in there.” She says, shaking her head.

“Devil… spawn?” His eyebrows furrow under the mask in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a big ass scorpion in the showers. Ain’t no way in hell I’m going back in there.” She shudders again.

“A scorpion…?” Simon slowly approaches the door to the shower block and takes a look inside. His eyes widen as he takes a step back. “Jesus Christ…”

“See? Big ass devil spawn.” She shakes her head. “I usually have no problem with scorpions, but not when I’m naked, just trying to take a shower. No way.”

“Hell no, that’s awful…” He glances back at her. “How did it even get in there?”

“I don’t know. Poor bastard’s probably freaking out as much as I am though. But it’s either him or me in there, and right now I’m not wearing enough clothes to deal with it…”

He runs a hand down his masked face. “Damn… do you want me to take care of it? I’m still dressed and everything. I got this…” He pauses for a moment. “How big is it though?”

“Big, like the size of your palm maybe. Which means it isn’t all that venomous, but it still doesn’t mean I want to risk getting stung by it.” She says.

“Your palm, or my palm?” He asks, teasingly, lifting an eyebrow under the mask.

“Your palm. Like I said, big ass scorpion.” She responds.

“Alright, I’ll handle it.” He says with a slight smirk on his face.

He takes a deep breath before entering the shower block. He’s a little hesitant, but keeps a keen eye out for the “devil spawn” of a scorpion.

He sees it hiding in the corner. And… she wasn’t exaggerating. It’s a pretty big scorpion, just chilling in the corner.

His eyes widen as he takes in the size of the arachnid. He lets out a swear under his breath as he grabs a towel from off the floor, slowly approaching the scorpion. He then drops the towel on top of it, scooping it up, holding it together tightly to avoid being stung.

Simon walks back outside, goes several steps behind the building, and flings the towel to launch the scorpion far away.

“That… that’ll work.” He says hesitantly as he watches the scorpion fly through the air and land a solid distance away.

“Well, that was kind of terrifying.” He says to her as he comes back around the building. “You really weren’t kidding about the size.”

“I don’t usually scream for bugs, but….” She trails off, shaking her head.

“Yeah, it would be one thing if you were wearing clothes, but…. Just bare naked and this massive scorpion just… pops up?”

“Devil spawn.” She mutters under her breath. “Thank you for taking care of it, Simon.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a half-smile. “No problem. Glad to be of assistance.”

He gestures to her form clad in the wet towel. “Are you… comfortable enough to go back in and finish showering?” “Yeah, I’m good now.” She says, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Simon’s jaw. “I’ll find you later?”

“Of course, you know where to find me.” Simon turns his head slightly so he can press a masked kiss to her forehead.

He brushes a hand down her cheek before stepping back and making sure she gets back to the shower okay, giving her a gentle wave as he turns to walk away.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!

Masterlist

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley fluff #i can handle bugs #but not when im tryna take a shower #hell naw

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redara · 1 month

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And Your Voice Was All I Heard

Pairings: Union of Light Bi-Han/Áila Havarôr Ratings: Mature Words: 6.990 TW: depiction and mention of abuse, blood, torture Summary: Post-MK1. Áila realizes the Lin Kuei is steering away from their purpose. She needs to escape the compound and return to Liu Kang in the Wu Shi Academy before the Grandmaster finds out what she's doing, for the price for treachery is death.

A/N: also posted on AO3. Áila is the OC of @tazahan and this fic is based on her work:

The bell rings.

Áila follows her peers – the group of Lin Kuei warriors – rushing to the main hall to attend the call for the urgent meeting. She is dreading the worst; it’s difficult to think of anything positive at this moment, not since the Grandmaster returned, alone and injured, and declared his two brothers as traitors. It’s the hot talk of the barracks; Scorpion and Smoke had defied order; they had attacked Sub-Zero and left him by the outer outpost of the Lin Kuei’s territory. Search parties have been assigned since then, and while it was fruitful, Scorpion and Smoke have fled Arctika.

Then, Sub-Zero suddenly announced that the Lin Kuei will not answer to Fire God Liu Kang or the Wu Shi Academy anymore.

Truth be told, Áila is confused with the whole ordeal. A part of her is telling her to trust the Grandmaster, yet deep inside she knows there is more to the story than what has been told. There must be a greater reason why Scorpion and Smoke forsook their oath and left the clan – either there is one reason, or she is still in denial, like any other Lin Kuei.

The main hall is already full of neatly lined warriors; Áila falls into formation, scanning the room. Tension is high, mixing with a variety of emotion – confusion, anger, anxiety, mixing as one. Hushed chatters being exchanged, questioning the reason for their assembly, questioning if it has something to do with the runaway brothers. Until the grand door opens, and the hall falls silent.

Walking into the room is the Grandmaster himself, dressed in his usual blue uniform. The lack of yellow and gray warriors who’d tail behind him is a new sight, one that makes Áila’s heart clench. Instead, there is a trail of ice following his footsteps, crackling, disappearing after a second. The torches of the hall sways as he comes in proximity. He takes his stand and looks down at his warriors; anger flashes in his usually stern gaze in the form of the warm fiery lights of the hall; the hardened feature of his face lets it be known how serious he is tonight, that whatever he is about to say will be of the utmost importance.

“I shall keep this brief,” he opens, his deep voice cuts the silence with such authority, echoing against the stone walls, “for as I am speaking, the two traitors have settled in Japan and built a clan to fight against ours. Carve this name in your mind: The Shirai Ryu; for mercy shall not be given to them or their allies.”

Sub-Zero paces slowly. “For centuries, the Lin Kuei have stood loyally by Earthrealm; our ancestors have kept the peace and protected the masses without recognition. We have stood, leashed to ridiculous rules set by Liu Kang, for no reason but to hold us back. You,” he waves his hand in a general direction, startling a line of warriors, “have trained and learned all your lives. Yet when the time calls, you have witnessed Liu Kang picking unworthy fighters to be tested against your might – a test of which you must fail. You have witnessed your brethren be sent off to fight by the demand of the Fire God; how little the number of those who returned, and our name remains unseen in the grand history of the world.

“Centuries of hard work, dedication, and loyalty… Would you like to know what the other Realms call us?”

His nose scrunches up in disgust as he continues.

“‘Liu Kang’s lapdogs’.”

The deafening silence is replaced by a cacophony of gasps. The tension breaks into a unified anger and hushed protest. Áila tries to remain composed – no, no, it’s not true… Liu Kang trusts the Lin Kuei, in fact, he talks of them highly. There is no way he would let anyone belittle the Lin Kuei.

But the Grandmaster carries on, collecting the newfound disappointment of his Lin Kuei warriors towards the Fire God, “No more shall our name be wiped from history. I vowed to you that we shall be known throughout the Realms. A clan – a nation – of which others will fear and respect –”

What is happening? No, no, this is not –

“Never again shall we be shackled by Liu Kang and his tyranny. We shall stand on our own, not for Liu Kang, not for Earthrealm –”

Áila internally begs the Grandmaster to stop. This is madness… He is declaring war against Liu Kang and Earthrealm – against his own brothers!

He clenches his fist and raises it high, “For the Lin Kuei!”

Áila watches helplessly as fists are raised in the air – the decision has been made, the future of the Lin Kuei has been set – and her heart begs her to scream, only capable of hearing the warriors all around her chanting out their loyal reply to their Grandmaster.

“For the Lin Kuei!”

***

With each passing day, the Lin Kuei begin to undergo plenty of changes. For one, the Engineering Department is more active than usual; the sound of metals and tools screeches out of their workshop, day and night; tons of materials being sent in, raising curiosity of what they are used for.

Áila grows wary. The lack of information from inside and outside of the compound is making her anxious. She wishes she could contact her father and ask if their clan, the Sól Eldur, is aware of what is happening, but communication with the outside world is very limited. Her guts are telling her to run away, run to the Wu Shi, and join them, but… what if Sub-Zero is right, and Liu Kang has been ruling Earthrealm under his tyranny, and Scorpion and Smoke are truly traitors?

Gods… the need to find the truth on her own is itching her mind. It doesn’t help that this afternoon, a fellow warrior dropped a hint that only makes the itch worse.

“Do not quote me on this, but I think our Grandmaster is building an army,” said the curly warrior to the masked warrior who was sitting across from Áila, “because I saw plenty of body armor in the workshop – not your usual armor, mind you, these are full metal, with cables and tubes, a very complicated design.”

The masked warrior frowned, “You mean he’s building an armored suit for us?”

“No, an army. Mechanized army. Well, granted, I only saw them briefly when I had to deliver some paperworks, but I know what I saw.”

“That is a bit of a stretch. It can be anything –”

“And I might have overheard Sektor talking to Cyrax about needing a new mathematical model for the brain. Come on, why would they need one if they’re making armors?”

So now here Áila is, sneaking into the heavily guarded workshop, internally regretting her decisions by the second. There might not be anything of importance here, and she’s risking her life for nothing, but she knows she has to do at least something; at the very least she should see what Sub-Zero and his engineers are making.

It is eerie. The smell of molten metal lingers in the air, mixing with a hint of rust, of singed materials, and dampness. Áila tiptoes through the hallway, passing a few doors, hiding from security cameras, until she finally reaches the inner workspace, and –

By the Elder Gods….

Tall, skeletal, humanoid creatures made of metal are lining up in the workspace; one is laid on the workbench with an open chest, displaying a mess of cables and tubes and gears. What should be their faces are nothing but a jumble of unfinished circuitry. Approaching warily, Áila can see some sharp blades on another workbench, they are equipped with weapons? But before she can observe them in detail, a voice startles her.

“-- more time, Bi-Han, or would you risk injuries to the Lin Kuei?”

Without missing a beat, Áila slithers towards a stack of crates. She hears footsteps – the unmistakable pace of the Grandmaster, followed by a more hurried one – and soon she can see the owners approaching. Sub-Zero appears first; his maskless face is seemingly stuck in a scowl; Sektor is following behind him as if trying to get him to stop.

“I understand you want the Cybers to be ready soon, but this – all of this – is something beyond our calibers, but, Cyrax’s team is still figuring out the math. It is paramount –”

“-- for everyone’s safety. Have you no other reason to say?” Sub-Zero finally stops, and he looks around the workspace, until he settles on the metallic body on the bench. He heaves a long sigh, tensed shoulders slumping with the motion. “With the days we are losing, we are one step behind the Shirai Ryu, and they are already on our doorstep –”

BANG.

Áila tries not to flinch when Sub-Zero punches the metal workbench with his bare fist, creating a dent and sharp icicles that spread; Sektor takes a step backwards, jaws clenching. Sub-Zero continues, “Kuai Liang keeps sending his dogs to sniff around our borders, and you are giving me nothing but scraps! Are you that incompetent, Sektor, that you cannot make one of these move?!”

Sektor stammers, “I – I – I could, I could, but you have to know –”

“What?! Safety again?!”

“-- they’re deadly. Bi-Han, the Cyber Lin Kuei will be capable of destroying a major city in one night. I need to have the additional math for the safety precaution, it is for your own safety as well –”

Sub-Zero interjects again, but Áila has stopped listening; she uses the opportunity to slip by unannounced, tiptoing deeper into the workshop; the voices of those two men are becoming further. Her mind is racing, still trying to wrap itself around this new revelation. So this is what Sub-Zero wants, freeing the Lin Kuei from ‘tyranny’ to subject others to his tyranny?

Her guts win; she has to leave the Lin Kuei.

She stops in front of a closed door of an office with Cyrax’s name etched on the nameplate. The math, she recalls, I need evidence. Liu Kang should know about this… Cautiously, she opens the door; it swings without a sound; and she is met by the sight of an empty office. Three large monitors are on the wall, displaying numbers and documents with intricate writings.

Áila steps inside and closes the door. Immediately, she rushes for the desk, eyes flicking between monitors. The tech is next level, definitely something custom-made by Cyrax, but the interface shows similarity to what Áila knows – and by the Gods, she intends to make it work.

After so many clicks and navigating the menus, she finally finds the email function. Without bothering to change the account, she types the email address of the only person in Wu Shi Academy who is constantly glued to the phone.

Sender: cy.4d4 To: jcage Subject: SOS Johnny, it’s Áila. I don’t have much time, but if you can read this, please get to Liu Kang ASAP. The Lin Kuei is preparing some kind of a robot army dubbed the Cyber Initiative. It’s not functional yet, and I hope it never will be, but they said it would be able to level a city in a day. Details in attachments. I’m leaving tonight. If I don’t make it to the Wu Shi in a week, you know what happened.

Áila drags a few recent files to the email before sending it. She makes sure to remove it from the ‘Sent’ folder as well to remove the trace.

She should take her leave now, yet she stands still, reading the open documents on the monitor, how most of them can’t be sent through the email due to the size of the files. She tears her eyes from the screen for a moment to scan the desk for some kind of a hard drive or a flash drive, something portable to bring a copy of the documents with her. Just her luck, a red flash drive is sitting by a stack of papers.

Each second that she uses to copy the data into the flash drive raises the level of her anxiety. Only when it is completely full and packed that she pulls it out, and tucks it into her uniform, into her breastband, right under the fold of her ample breasts where she knows it would be safe and hidden. The hard part is done, now it’s time to –

The blaring of alarms sends her jumping in place.

The once quiet hallway is now echoing with the incessant ringing and the footsteps of incoming reinforcements, one of them is the familiar heavy pace of the Grandmaster. Áila bolts for a makeshift exit – a window – where she throws herself against the glass and comes out tumbling onto the snowy ground of the Lin Kuei compound. Without looking back, without acknowledging the ache and the burn from the small scrapes, she takes long strides and runs.

“THERE!”

“GET HER!”

Shoutings of orders. Crunching snow under their soles. The biting wind whistling in Áila’s ears. She manages to cross the courtyard, dodging a handful of guards. The gate is just right ahead, still opened, unguarded –

A net suddenly collides with her side and envelopes her – what is – when it suddenly shocks her is what gets her to fall. Áila can’t react much when her muscles contract and spasm involuntarily, she can only lie on the snowy courtyard, body jerking against her will. The pain begins to form, then the dread takes over when she realizes this is the end; the footsteps are coming closer; the exit is still further away; Sub-Zero’s boots come to her view, colliding with her face – Áila yelps as pain blooms on the bridge of her nose.

“Well done, Cyrax.” His praise comes out under a heavy breath.

“ Hah , I knew that would come in handy.” A tall Lin Kuei appears next to Sub-Zero, wearing a mechanized vambrace. He presses a button, and the shocking stops; Áila pants aloud, feeling light-headed when her muscles are finally relaxing. “Ah? I think I’ve seen her before. The Carrot-Hair woman from the Wu Shi Academy, right?”

Sub-Zero moves the net away – Áila jerks away from his touch – and his icy hand grabs her around the neck, bringing her face closer to him. He rips her mask with another hand, baring her broken and bloody nose to view. “ Tch , Áila Hávarôr. I should have known you’re in league with Liu Kang. Planning a little mutiny on your own, hmm?”

“N-no –” Áila grits her teeth to stop them from chattering.

Cyrax scoffs, “Still has the audacity to lie. I know you sent something from my office, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

The grip around her neck tightens, “Is that so?”

Áila repeats, “No…”

“Liar.” Sub-Zero lifts her off the ground, rendering her clawing at his vambrace for purchase, as she feels her lungs burning from the lack of air. She tries kicking him, only to be replied by a firmer grip that darkens her vision.

“Aren’t you going to kill her?” She hears the muffled voice of Cyrax.

Sub-Zero chuckles darkly, “A swift death is not what this harlot deserves. But by the time I’m finished with her, she will be begging for it.”

***

Crimson blooms through the tear of Áila’s blue uniform. Clutching her stomach, she hisses, hunching over as she hobbles backwards; her thighs are shaking, trying to stay balanced while standing on the icy floor. Her vision is clouded by the blood that’s streaming down her crown, that no matter how many times she wipes it until her vambrace is drenched, she can’t remove it. The sight of Sub-Zero, blue and red, approaching her again at a rapid speed –

Áila lifts an arm to block whatever attack is coming. Her defense is futile, and her torso is met by the sole of his boot, kicking her backwards until she finally falls again.

Sub-Zero coos in a cynical tone, “Is that all you’re capable of? Pathetic. You dare wearing our uniform and displaying such weakness.”

Áila rolls over, pushing herself off the floor. She can hear him approaching again, and before she knows it, pain shoots up her side from where he suddenly kicks her. He grabs her hair, pulling her off the floor – hurts… she cries out, angry tears blurring out her sight, as he forces her to look at him.

“Not killing Kuai Liang and Tomas when I had the chance was a mistake, one that I don’t intend to repeat. Another traitor shall not be unpunished! Look at me!” He growls, voice ringing aloud in her ears. A snarl replaces his scowl. “A weakling like you is only good for two things: a bed warmer or a training dummy. So tell me, which one is it?”

The coldness in Sub-Zero’s eyes makes Áila wonder if he is truly the man she used to respect. It disgusts her to think she once admired his discipline and leadership. Her stomach turns at the thought that the Lin Kuei see this inhuman cryomancer and still choose to serve him. Is this what Scorpion and Smoke saw? Is this why they left him?

Shaking with rage and fear, Áila chooses not to answer him.

Her silence is taken as disobedience, and though it gives her a sense of victory – seeing his control snaps and he growls in frustration – the moment is short-lived. He lets her go with a hard shove, and in return, he grabs the wrist of her right hand, and twists it to her back.

“AHH!” Áila screams, feeling the stretch of her muscle mixing with the burn of the cuts she earned from his ice dagger. She can feel the tension of her bones warning her of their unnatural position. She tries to move to alleviate the pain, but Sub-Zero keeps her in place.

“Filthy harlot, your Grandmaster asked you a question.” His voice joins her cries, and soon, his ice dagger joins the conversation as well; Áila yawps, hoarse and painfully, as the sharp edge is dragged slowly against her skin, following the length of her arm. Her free hand grips her uniform tightly, trying to channel the pain. Her legs are kicking, thighs spasming.

The blade presses deeper, “No – no, please –”

“Oh? Now you have manners?” Sub-Zero drags the blade higher. The cold burns and numbing, but when it melts, the pain doubles. “Tell me what you want.”

Áila hisses, shaking her head, “S-stop… Sto – Ngh !” Sub-Zero presses his thumb into a fresh cut.

“Mind your place, you lying harlot.”

“Grandmast – Grandmaster, please stop!”

A deep, devilish laugh echoes in the room. “Say you're sorry, and I might consider stopping.”

“I’m sor – I’m sorry!” This time it is not the blade that hurts her the most, it’s the tight grip around her wrist, threatening to twist it. Her whole body shakes with disgust as she cries, “Forgi – forgive me! Please! I won’t – please! AAAH!”

A crack, followed by the numbing pain shooting up her now-broken wrist up to her heavily wounded arm, and Áila knows her fate has been sealed. Sub-Zero finally releases her, and though she can’t see him, she can hear his victorious chortle as he watches her lying on the floor, too scared to move. He turns her around with a kick; now she can see him towering over her, with wisp of cold dancing behind him, freezing the air.

“ That is one. I shall break every single bone in your body, a day at a time, until you can do nothing but wriggle like the worm you are. Only then shall I reunite you with your family,” he crouches down. Áila jolts away when his fingertips meet her neck. He clicks his tongue, “Better fix your expression for the joyous occasion, for your father shall receive your head in a pretty box.”

***

Áila leans against the bar of her prison. Her hoarse breathing is loud in the otherwise empty dungeon. She cradles her hand to her chest, how swollen her broken wrist has become in mere hours. Her strength is dwindling down, and it terrifies her, for she knows when she is awake, she would have to face the same treatment again. There will be no winning against Sub-Zero, especially not in her injured state.

His voice… The threat lingers in her mind that she wants to cry aloud, for she knows he will go through with it. She can’t imagine it, her father opening a box and seeing her severed head. Her heart breaks for the potential future; if the Cyber Initiative has been completed, no one will be safe from the Lin Kuei; she fears even the Earthrealm Champions would have no chance to win against an army of destruction.

Something is poking her chest. At first, she thinks it must be one of her ribs, probably a broken one that she wasn’t aware of. But it’s small, and rectangular – the flash drive.

There is a chance.

Despite feeling ready to keel over, she forces herself to stand up; there is no way she would die in the enemy territory, dressed in the uniform that doesn’t bring her pride; her blood is not Lin Kuei, never has been, never will be. The power of the sun runs in her, the blessings of her ancestors, the Sol Eldur clan; it sings in her heart, guiding her to do what is right. Now, she needs to stay strong a little while longer.

Áila raises her hand over the lock of her cell. The cold metal won’t budge yet . She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, so deep that her whole body trembles when her chest expands; the cuts on her torso sting from the action. Her father’s guidance comes to mind.

“Breathe in… And out… Good, do you feel that? There is a heat in your belly, and it expands to your chest. Let it spread, my dear, it’s fine, I promise. The next part is going to be tricky, are you ready? …Very good. Do you remember when we went fishing and you caught your first trophy? Lots of reeling, it was exhausting, right? You wanted to give me the rod because your arms felt like they were about to fall off, but I told you to keep going, because I know you got it. And you did!

Remember how happy you were? Yeah, you do? This is going to be like one of those moments. When you need strength, I want you to remember the good times we had. I want you to remember the things you’ve accomplished by being who you are… That’s it. Oh you feel the energy now? That’s it, my dear, let it take over, it’s going to be alright.”

There is a loud pulse accompanying the beat of her heart. It ebbs and flows like the waves her ancestors used to conquer. It’s warm and light like sitting by a campfire after a long windy day. It overwhelms her senses. At first, she can only see the dark, but it gradually becomes brighter, a glow, like the first ray of sun breaking the night. The more she breathes, the brighter her world has become. The pulse is snapping, ready to burst, ready to lash out like the solar storm against the cold, dark space.

And she lets it.

She cares not what she hears or feels – the cracks of metal, the crumbling of stone, the intense heat against her skin – she feels safe. Her heart tells her to open her eyes, and she does, seeing the bars of her cell bending outwards and the stone floor and walls are partially destroyed, still burning red. Her heart tells her to run, and she bolts, not caring for her injuries or the dungeon she is leaving. Her heart tells her to go one way, and she follows, the cold wind fails to caress her skin.

Her heart tells her not to look back, and she does not, until the ground is replaced by snow, until there is no more light, until the shadows of the trees are merging with the dark night, until it’s only her and moonlight, until the adrenaline has stopped pumping throughout her bloodstream that she begins to feel everything.

Áila inhales the cold air of freedom. The snow reaches up to her knees, seeping into her boots, making her bones ache. She persists, one step at a time, not caring if she is going the wrong way as long as she is going further away from the Lin Kuei compound. If what Sub-Zero said is true, then the Shirai Ryu might still be lingering around the borders of Arctika. She just has to find them.

She doesn’t know if her body is cold because of the snow, or because of the loss of blood and adrenaline; if she is still moving or she is kneeling on the ground; if the darkness is because of the night or because she has closed her eyes. She doesn’t know if she’s hearing the howling of the wind or the wolves or the dogs. She doesn’t know if she is still alive or stuck in a dream; if she opens her eyes, will she still find darkness or the face of Sub-Zero? But she does know the feel of the flash drive pressing against her chest, and it gives her a little bit of hope that whether she is alive or dead by the time the Shirai Ryu find her, the truth will still outlive her.

It’s going to be alright… It’s going to be…

***

The smell of agarwood incense permeating in the air rouses Áila awake. At first, it is faint, and she believes she is dreaming. Then she begins to feel the warmth, how stable it is as if she has been tucked under a blanket and the fireplace is roaring. Her eyelids are fluttering, blurry vision seeing a tall, dark red ceiling, with yellow lanterns hanging. She blinks repeatedly, where am I…?

She hears a movement to her left, and she turns to the source. Someone is moving behind a dark red partition; the sound of mortar and pestle, the clinking of glass, the pour of water, makes her realize that they are brewing something. The smell of a familiar tea assaults her senses, she knows that smell, can already taste it in her mouth – that is Madam Bo’s special brew .

Áila sits up gingerly. There is indeed a blanket covering her body – her bandaged body; someone has taken their time to clean her up and cover each and every cut she has. Her broken wrist is wrapped by a thick bandage and placed in a sling that’s hanging from the ceiling. She looks around the room; there is no mistaking it, this is the Wu Shi Academy. The smell is the same as she remembers. The interiors are what she is familiar with, all of the dark red and gold ornaments, wooden instead of stone. It seems her action had not been in vain; perhaps the Shirai Ryu had found her and taken her here – at least that’s what she hopes had happened, because she can’t feel the flash drive poking her chest anymore, and she hopes it didn’t fall out and be left in Arctika.

The person behind the partition has finished brewing the tea. Áila wants to call for them, wondering if it’s Madam Bo herself, but she chooses to wait. She watches eagerly as the person walks out carrying a tray of teacups and a teapot –

But her eagerness dwindles down upon seeing the light blue uniform. Her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach when she sees his face framed by the same shade of dark brown hair and the loose strands. His eyes meet hers, a genuine surprise, and his mouth moves to speak; the same deep, raspy voice comes out, and all that she can hear is the threat.

“I shall break every single bone in your body, a day at a time, until you can do nothing but wriggle like the worm you are.”

Áila shakes uncontrollably, no, this is not real… This is cruel, a mind game, exposing her to a sense of security only to show how wrong she is. She has to get out – she jumps out of the bed, and her legs immediately give away, causing her to fall right onto the wooden floor. Panic poisons her blood as she hears him making a move, placing the tray on the table, and his heavy footsteps come approaching. She pulls herself to move as well, but his boots are already in her peripheral vision, and she tenses, scrambling, clawing away like a defeated animal. The pain in her wrist jogs her memory, reminding her of the unbearable stretch, and her fear grows tenfold at the possibility of it happening again.

“Please no –” she curls on the floor, head bowing down, forehead kissing the wood, “-- Grandmaster, plea – please – I’m sor – sorry. I’m sorry… I’m –” She hiccups, already feeling too hard to breathe. But she persists, not wanting to take any chances of being seen as disobedient again by Sub-Zero. Her cries come out in desperate huffs of breath. “I beg – I beg of you… Grand – Grandmaster… I’m sorr –” she flinches when he takes a step forward, and already she can tell he is going to grab her by the head again, “ Mercy! Mercy! Please! Mercy!”

The door swings open – he’s bringing the guards – and a large hand makes contact with the back of her head, but the familiar voice is what gets her to look up, “Áila!”

Áila’s eyes are widening upon seeing the face of Liu Kang. This… This can’t – why is he here with Sub-Zero? She suspects foul play, but Liu Kang pulls her up from the floor with such gentleness and warmth, and there is remorse in his eyes, and she knows he is truly the Fire God, and she is safe. She clutches his shirt, her cries come out without restraint; tears can’t stop streaming down her face when he helps her get onto the bed again.

More familiar faces come into the room; Raiden, Johnny, Kung Lao, and Kenshi, the Earthrealm Champions. Following behind them are none other but the yellow and gray-clad warriors. “S-Scorpion? Smoke?” Áila rasps.

“Those are not our titles anymore. You can call us by name.” Kuai Liang scans her from top to toe. His expression hardens, sadness is evident in his eyes. “Did… Did my brother do this to you?”

Áila glances towards the light-blue-clad Sub-Zero in the room; he stands in place as if petrified, as if he is not the Sub-Zero they are talking about right now.

Thankfully, Liu Kang intercepts, “I think it is best for me to explain to you what happened. Everyone, please leave the room for now, give her some space.” One by one, the familiar faces are taking their leave, but not before giving Áila a sympathetic gaze. Sub-Zero, however, remains standing in place, until Liu Kang calls him. “Bi-Han, please, give us a moment.”

“Of course.” Sub-Zero replies without hesitation, even bowing down a bit before he begins to walk away. Áila follows his movement, still wary. He stops at the threshold, and with an expression full of remorse, his eyes meet hers, devoid of cold. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

And he closes the door.

***

“Don’t take it to heart, Bi-Han, it’s not your fault.”

Bi-Han glances at Kuai Liang – not his Kuai Liang, but he shares the same features that remind him of his brother, even the scar. This timeline still gives him whiplash where he is least expecting it. “Generally speaking, it is still my fault.”

“Bi-Han – our Bi-Han – did it, not you. It’s a pity, his obsession has driven him mad; I can’t believe he would stoop this low. Wounding me is one thing, it was a warning, but I should have realized it was only a matter of time before he lashed out on someone else.”

“At least Áila survives.” Tomas tries to sound positive.

“Barely. The scouts found her half-frozen in the tundra. If they were too late, the Sol Eldur would be building her funeral pyre.” Kuai Liang sighs heavily.

Bi-Han frowns, “The Sol Eldur, is that her family?”

“Her clan, yes. The last time I spoke to them, they were fortifying their village in case the Lin Kuei would ambush them first; I’m not sure if her father can come here when his presence is still needed there.” Kuai Liang sighs again. “But thanks to her, we now know what Bi-Han is planning. Forgive us; the Lin Kuei in this timeline must have stained the name of your Lin Kuei.”

They don’t exchange another word, as Kuai Liang walks away followed by Tomas, seemingly to lament their brother privately. Bi-Han remains standing, watching the life of the garden of the Wu Shi Academy, with a thousand conflicting thoughts running in his mind. He knows it was not him who wounded Áila to such an extent that she fears the sight of him, but the shame and the guilt still weigh on his heart; it is his name, his title, his face – it is him, but not truly him .

He recalls the night when Johnny barged into the meeting with phone in hand, “Guys! You’re gonna want to see this!” he had said, and he read the email sent by Áila. Kuai Liang took charge of the Shirai Ryu scouts to scour the tundra and the mountains. Even the blind swordsman, Kenshi, insisted on going, believing his ancestors could help as well.

At that time, Bi-Han thought what a remarkable person Áila must be, to be within the walls of the Lin Kuei, and still tried to reach out. Her action earned his respect, that at the moment, he innerly prayed to the Elder Gods to see her safety so he can meet this warrior for once.

But he was not expecting to see her being brought in on a stretcher.

She was blue and red, frozen and bloodied, that everyone believed she had been dead. The extensive injuries she sustained were a clear tell that she had been tortured, or beaten up within an inch of her life. Liu Kang had used his power to thaw her just enough to get her blood to run again, and then the monks took her to be cleaned up and patched.

And though no one is pointing fingers at him, Bi-Han knows this is his counterpart’s doing.

The door to Áila’s room is opened – Bi-Han turns to it – and Liu Kang walks out alone. He offers a small apologetic smile as he approaches Bi-Han. “Are you alright?”

Bi-Han returns the question, “Is she alright?”

“She will be. I have explained the situation, though she might need time to process everything. Please do not think you are in the wrong here. Neither of us anticipated this behavior from Sub-Zero.”

“I should have.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Liu Kang hums. “This Sub-Zero is not you, Bi-Han, you can’t expect to understand what he will do next. Our timelines may share similar people with similar lives, but that is where the similarity ends.”

Bi-Han feels his jaws tensing. There is a pull in his heart, tugging at his heartstring, when he remembers Áila’s reaction to seeing him; her expression of pure anguish is still fresh in his mind. “She begged for mercy… Three times, she did, I…” He huffs a cold puff of air, feeling rage forming in his chest at the image of Áila begging Sub-Zero to stop but he carried on nonetheless. What kind of a monster has he become? Bi-Han shakes his head. “Can I… Can I see her?”

Liu Kang shrugs. “Usually I’d tell you to give her time, but this depends on you. Are you strong enough to face her again?” He doesn’t wait for an answer when he adds, “I hope the two of you can find peace in this time of conflict.”

***

The pot of tea on the table is untouched, despite the smell beckoning Áila for a taste. She wants to, she truly does, but the fact remains that the tea was prepared by Sub-Zero – and though Liu Kang has explained extensively of what happened, of how this ‘Bi-Han’ is not the Sub-Zero who nearly maimed her wrist, she is wary nonetheless. She sits still on the bed, trying to quell her thoughts and senses, telling herself that she is safe now, that she is alright, that Sub-Zero will not go through with his threat of sending her head in a box. Her rapid heartbeat is slowing down. Her welling tears have dried.

Then the door slides open, and Áila sees him again.

Their eyes lock at each other for a moment. Her gaze is of fear, but his is of remorse, a palpable guilt. He stands unmoving by the door, which she is thankful for, because her body has begun shaking on its own.

“Bi-Han.” He breaks the silence, voice purposefully made a bit higher than the usual deep raspy tone. “Please call me ‘Bi-Han’. You do not need to call me by any titles. I am neither of those in your timeline.” He pauses, thin lips tensing and relaxing as if he is tasting the words he would utter. “Would you like some tea?”

Áila glances between him and the teapot. The idea of the Grandmaster serving her tea is wild – no, this is not the Grandmaster, this is Bi-Han . She shakes her head, “Are you really not Sub-Zero?”

“I am Sub-Zero, but ,” he hastily adds when she flinches, “I am not of your timeline. In my timeline, I am also Sub-Zero, and the Grandmaster. But I can assure you, I am not like him .”

She can see how genuine he is, how he seems borderline desperate to distance himself from the Sub-Zero she knows. But her body and mind are acting on their own, as tears begin to well up in her eyes again, and they roll down her cheeks when she blinks. “I’m sorry – I know you’re not him , but you look alike, and I – I don’t know…”

“I could change my attire if it makes you more comfortable.”

“No, you’re – you’re already dressed differently.”

“Oh? Is Sub-Zero not wearing blue in your timeline?”

“Not in the same shade as yours.” Áila forces herself to relax. She cradles her wrist tightly, hugging herself to feel more at ease. “Liu Kang said you crossed the timeline to lend him your aid.”

“Liu Kang spoke too highly of me; I’m merely doing my part to help. Sub-Zero needs to be stopped before he destroys Earthrealm – given the information you brought, he is already planning to do it.” Bi-Han takes one step forward, a tentative action, and he looks at Áila as if asking for her permission. She nods, and he approaches quietly; the footsteps are softer, quieter, calculated for her. “I’m here to thank you, Áila. If it’s not for you, we would still be in the dark of what the Lin Kuei are planning. This gives us time to be better prepared.”

“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do in the first place.” Áila lowers her gaze to the wooden floor – calm down, calm down, calm down. He’s not Sub-Zero. He’s not going to hurt you. It’s going to be alright – “Perhaps I should have done it earlier before they assembled the Cybers, but I –” she closes her eyes when she can see his boots entering her view, “-- I was in denial. I didn’t know which side I should support. Too weak. Too late. I should have known Sub-Zero was wrong when he drove his brothers away. When he –”

The memory flashes behind her eyelids. How Sub-Zero had dragged her to the dungeon by the neck. How he had goaded her to fight him. How, with every cut he made and the punch he landed, Áila slowly lost her hope to survive. At one point, she lost consciousness, and was woken up by the cold tip of the ice blade pressing against her cheek. The flooding memory is too much, breath turning ragged as if she is back in the dungeon trying to breathe the air that Sub-Zero had knocked out of her lungs.

Áila feels a warm hand pressing against her thigh. She opens her eyes, but the tears have blurred her vision. She can see a blurry light blue crouching beside her; she blinks until she sees Bi-Han in close proximity. Yet for once, from this close, she can truly see he is not the Grandmaster. There is grief in his eyes, and pain, as if he shares her burden. There is regret and guilt, and she swears those brown eyes are a bit glossy as well.

“You are not weak.” Bi-Han’s voice comes out as a calming whisper. His fingertips meet her wet cheek, interrupting the stream. “Your bravery will be remembered across all Realms.” Áila sees his lower lips slightly tremble. “There’s no need for you to fear me, I’m not the Sub-Zero you knew. You are safe, and I will try in all my power to keep you that way, and I will never, ever, hurt you.”

“Truly?” Áila rasps, barely audibly.

Bi-Han responds, "I give you my words.”

She doesn’t know who breaks first – is it him who pulls her close or is it her who falls to his lap? – but their bodies collide and he cradles her, surrounds her in his strong arms. She is holding onto his light blue gi, grounding herself to his promise. He is holding the back of her head, and yet for once, she does not tense, does not flinch.

There is no sound in the room but their shared, quiet cries.

#bi han #bi han x oc #bi han imagine #sub zero x oc #sub zero imagine #sub zero #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #fanfic #redarader

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asherbakugou · 4 months

Text

Dragon Dictionary

Ra's Al Ghul - Lung | Asiatic Jade Dragon

- Known for diamond hard scales that come in all shades of green

- Sharp teeth curved inwards for catching fish; Hooked talons for catching fish

- Breath poisonous gas

- Fly through the sky in a serpentine fashion

Talia Al Ghul - Lung | Asiatic Jade Dragon/Black Mamba

- Known for diamond hard scales that come in all shades of green

- Sharp teeth curved inwards for catching fish; Hooked talons for catching fish; Fangs filled with venom positioned at the front of the mouth in place of canines

- Black mouth

- Breathe poisonous gas

- Fly through the sky in a serpentine fashion

Bruce Wayne - Wyvern | Black Nightwing

- Wyvern with large black wings and three claws at the end of its wrist to walk on; Diamond hard scales that blend in with the night sky

- Breath black plasma

- Long, straight horns pointed back

- Crocodile like tail for balnce when on hind legs

Slade Wilson - Drake | Sand Drake

- Sand colored scales with darker plates along their back like armor; Impenetrable scales with thick skin

- Wide paws for balance on sand with straight claws; Slender body for moving across sand and hiding in the desert

- Barbed tail like a scorpion

- Breath fire

Chato Santana - Lindwurm/Zilant/Quetzecoatl | Born a Sand Lindwurm - Everburning Feathered Zilant

- Sand colored scales with darker skales specked in, uniquily suited tofold front limbs back and move like a snake through the sand

- Fangs situated at the front of the mouth filled with highly corrosive venom

- Long red, yellow, and orange colored feathers along the top of the skull, down the neck and along large wings, tipped with hooked foreclaws

- Real embers along the spine; Runs naturally hotter than almost any other dragon species

- Feathered tail that leaves behind trails of deadly smoke

- Breathes golden flames

Damian Al Ghul - Wayne - Yinglong | Asiatic Jade Nightwing

- Diamond hard scales with mottled black and green scales that allow them to blend in with the night sky and shadows

- Black mouth with inward curved teeth to catch fish; Hooked talons for catching fish

- Large black wings with single foreclaw and moveable wrist that he can walk on

- Black plasma

- Thin whip like tail

- Long horns curving slightly backwards

Respawn (Achilles Al Ghul - Wilson) - Lung | Jade Sand Dragon

- Impenetrable sand colored scales with green armor like plates down the spine

- Venoumous barb on his tail; Fangs positioned at the front of his mouth are filled with deadly venom

- Wide paws with hooked talons for fish; Black mouth with inward curved teeth for eating fish

- Fly tgrough the sky in a serpentine fashion

- Camouflaged in desert areas

Matteo Al Ghul - Santana - Feathered Yinglong | Everburning Jade Dragon

- Dimaond hard scales in shades of dark green with golden/sandy colored speckled in

- Black mouth; Fangs situated at the front of the mouth filled with corrosive venom; Straight teeth, like a wolves or coyotes

- Large paws with hooked talons for catchin fish

- Green and white feathers around his slender face, down the neck, over the wings, and down the spine

- Embers glow along his back, hidden with the feathers; Runs hotter than nearly all other species of dragon

- Breathes golden-green flames

- Feathered tail leaves smoke trails when he flies

Dick Grayson - Feathered Dragon | Thermotect

- Ice cold, diamond hard scales in all shades from black to white, blue to pink, and more; Specialized feathers along the face, neck and top half of the wings

- Large teeth, like a polar bears; Hooked talon for gripping ice and catching fish

- Blue-black tongue

- Breathe ice

- Wide paws with thick pads to walk across snow and ice

Jason Todd - Feathered Wyvern |Phoenix Drake

- Covered in thick red-orange feathers with darker red ones around the neck, wings, and tail; Fluff covered hind legs with long wicked sharp talons like a Harpy Eagles

- Sharp foreclaws on the tops of the wings 'wrist' to walk on though Phoenix Drakes are capable of walking upright on their hind legs alone

- Thin faces with angular snout; Razor sharp serated teeth, like an anacondas, to grab hold of prey

- Long tail feathers with two extra long white feathers that stretch several feet past the rest of the tail

- Run hotter than almost every species, but are vulnerable because they lack the thick scales of most species; Compensate by being reborn

Timothy Drake - Dragon | Goldenfang

- Beautiful golden scales with short wings and long frills along its spine with a long tail with thin delicate looking veils connected by thin spines on the tail; Darker golden-brown scales on the head like a fer-de-lances

- Jungle dwelling dragons best at gliding through trees and weaving around obstacles

- Sharp needle like claws for clinging to trees; Delicate fangs positioned at the front of the mouth filled with potent golden venom

- Sharp teeth and molars like a monkeys; Short muzzle than most dragons

- Flexible bodies with a specialized flexible spine

- Incredibly delicate as their scales aren't diamond hard of inpenetrable

Cassandra Cain - Drake | Scorpion Drake

- Thick, impenetrable scales that comes in pale shades od brown or shades of black or in between; Long tail that curves upwards slightly tipped with a sharp stinger and poison glands

- Specialized scales along the wrists and ankles that let them feel vibrations in the air; Naturally thinner scales, a weak spot

- Large paws with flat claws to balance on sand

- Able to go long periods without water; Can hold still for hours

- Extremely fast and agile for a drake who are normally bulky because of their thick, armor like scales

- Fast runners because of their longs legs

Rare - Common

Successful Hybrids (that survive) - Extremely Rare

Everburning Dragon - Rare

Phoenix Drake - Rare

Goldenfang - Rare

Asiatic Jade Dragon - Uncommon

Sand Drakes - Uncommon

Thermotect - Uncommon

Scorpion Drake - Uncommon

Black Nightwings - Uncommon

(Inspired by @salparadiselost Dragon Au; The Thermotect, Phoenix Drake, and Goldenfang all belong to her)

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icycoldninja · 3 months

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Hysteria (V x Reader angst)

WARNING: Panic attacks and anxiety incoming, if you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!!!

You and V were on your way back to Devil May Cry after a long and arduous mission. You both were exhausted beyond belief as you'd spent the afternoon hacking away at demons and destroying Qliphoth roots. As a matter of fact, V was so tired, he could barely walk on his own.

"Feeling sleepy?" V chuckled, turning to you as he hobbled his way down the path, relying on both his cane and your shoulder for support as he walked.

"Nah," You replied, grinning. "I'm just worried about you. It's like you're getting weaker every day." The smile on your face faded a little as V's legs gave out. He would have collapsed to the ground if you hadn't caught and steadied him. "See what I mean?" V smiled at you before regaining his composure and resuming his slow, staggering walk down the trail.

"I'm fine, dear," He said, voice fainter than usual. "Do not worry about me." You shrugged, taking his arm and guiding him down the path. You traveled peacefully enough for a while, until you spotted a remarkably large, blue, scorpion-like creature standing in the middle of the road

"What is that...?" You squinted at the strange organism, trying to figure out exactly what it was when V suddenly shouted, "Get out of the way!" Before you could react, the creature scuttled forwards and stung the side of your ankle. The pain was mild and passed quickly, but almost immediately after, you felt your heart rate rise and your breath start to quicken. V smashed the little creature with his cane at around the same time you began hyperventilating.

"Oh no," He sank to his knees and and took you by the shoulders, noting how your cheeks were flushed and tears were welling up in your eyes.

"What's happening to me...?" You rasped, feeling an overwhelming wave of fear wash over you. "What was that?!" V squeezed your shoulders gently as you clutched your chest and panted heavily.

"That was an annoying little demon whose venom induces panic attacks. Those with anxiety are...especially afflicted." He frowned, watching you curl into a ball, your head in your hands. The pulsing terror and panic filled you, clouding your mind and nearly robbing you of your ability to think. You were just so scared, it was too much to do anything. Your mind was spiraling into a literal pit of darkness from which there was no return. You just wanted it to stop--to make it all stop. You didn't even realize you were screaming until V wrapped you in a tight hug, pressing your head against his shoulder.

"It's OK, my dear," He whispered, threading his fingers through your hair and shushing you. "You're safe. You're safe with me." He kissed your cheek, continuing to hold you close to him. "Everything's going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise. I shall keep you safe." He continued holding you, whispering comforting words into your ear and caressing your shoulder. "You are safe, I promise. Just quiet down and relax--it'll pass. I know it will." "But what if it doesn't?" You sobbed, burying your face in his slender shoulders. "What if it never goes away!?" V pulled away for a moment, cupping your face and pressing your foreheads together. "It will, dearheart. It most certainly will. Trust me." He kissed you, then returned to clinging onto you tightly. "It will pass, and I will be here until it does."

#Dmc #Dmc5 #Dmc v #Dmcv #Dmc v x reader #V x reader #v devil may cry #Devil may cry v #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #Requested #icycoldninja writes #thanks for requesting #Angst #angst with fluff #Gave it a happy ending cause why not #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #part 3 of 4

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jedijesi · 5 months

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Caught in the Cat's Web Chapter 14

Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy!Reader

Previous Chapter 🕸️ Series Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Implied Smut, Heartbreak, Little bit of Violence.

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Felicia relives her heartbreaking past with her ex, Peter Parker AKA Spider-Man.

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

A/N: Sorry for the late update, holidays and finals have taken us hostage. Enjoy this chapter, I loved writing it! I also recommend listening to the other woman by lana del rey during flashbacks!

New York, Earth-192

Felicia and Miguel sat comfortably on the couch, pretending to be engrossed in the captivating show playing on the television as their minds wandered to the thoughts of each other's lips. She found solace in leaning against Miguel's chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall as he breathed, a comforting and familiar rhythm that reassured her.

The playful touch of his fingers touching the silver strands. As the scenes continued on the screen, Miguel would occasionally plant tender kisses on the crown of Felicia's head, causing her heart to beat faster. Then, with a delicate touch, he would kiss her neck, leaving a trail of affectionate pecks that ignited a spark within her. Each kiss left a tingling sensation in its wake, and Felicia couldn't help but sigh contentedly.

In this intimate moment, the outside world seemed to fade away as they found comfort and love in each other's presence, even if they were doing nothing but simply watching the television. The shared silence spoke volumes about their connection.

Miguel continued his sweet assault on Felicia's neck, listening to her soft gasps and moans, until LYLA's sudden appearance jolted Miguel out of his moment with Felicia. He sighed, reluctantly pulling away from her neck, his attention shifting to the unexpected intrusion.

"What?" Miguel asked, a trace of irritation in his voice.

"I thought you wanted updates," LYLA said, crossing her arms with a no-nonsense expression.

Miguel pressed one last tender kiss to Felicia's lips. "Enjoy your show, Hermosa. I'm going to go in the other room if that's alright."

Felicia nodded and stole one last kiss. "You can go to the gallery. Its the third door down the hall." She gestures with her hand.

With a smile, Miguel briskly made his way to Felicia's gallery. He opened the French doors, stepping into the room that held breathtaking displays of art. The walls were adorned with some of the most stunning paintings, and practically every inch of the room was covered with canvases. Miguel can’t help but shake his head and smile, imagining all of the Black Cat’s escapades.

“Miguel.” LYLA interrupts his daydreaming to remind him of her presence.

“Yeah, sorry, what’s going on at HQ?” Miguel asks as he walks to the desk by the window where a box of newspapers had fallen.

“One thing has been confirmed, It’s all an inside job.” Miguel sighs, bending over to help clean the mess on the floor. “Miss Drew and I interviewed everyone that works in the Gismo production so see if anyone has been smuggling them. So far, we’ve got nothing there. A little over two months ago there were a few outages in the security cams.”

“That must have been when they retrieved enough to give to the Maggia.” Miguel ponders as he places all of the newspapers back into the box.

LYLA continues to theorize, but Miguel becomes enchanted by the headings of the newspapers.

FAMOUS PAINTING: THE SWING, MISSING! NEW YORK’S NEW VILLAN, BLACK CAT?

Several security guards reported a woman in a

black suit and claws stealing the precious art.

Miguel chuckles to himself as he looks over his shoulder to where the girl in a pink gown on a swing, hung proudly in the center of the wall. Miguel flips through several more newspapers spanning over the years. As he flips through the various years and headlines staring his Felicia, he stops on one in particular that catches his eye.

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT FIGHT SCORPION

Has the Black Cat changed her ways?

“LYLA,” Miguel interrupts the AI’s train of thought. “Does Earth-192 have a Spider-Man?”

Taken back by Miguel’s random question, LYLA stops to go through the data in her codes. “Yes. Night-Spider and Spider-Man AKA Felicia Hardy and Peter Parker.” She informs. “Why do you ask?”

“She never mentioned having a Spider-Man.” His brows furrow.

“According to my records, Peter Parker of Earth-192 sponsored Felicia throughout her training and interview process.” Wanting to know more, Miguel dives back into the box of newspapers. “Whatcha doing there, boss?” LYLA peaks over Miguel’s shoulder with suspicion.

“Just… looking.” He shrugs.

“You sure you're allowed to do this? Might be a violation of her trust.” LYLA warns.

“Holy shit.” He muttered as he finds exactly what he is looking for.

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT KISS!

New York’s favorite crime-fighting duo was spotted kissing on the Empire State Building!

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT: NEW YORK’S FAVORITE COUPLE SAVES THE DAY AGAIN!

Spider-Man and Black Cat take down the sinister six!

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT PREGNANCY?

Is she bloated or pregnant?

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT ENGAGED?

Black Cat seen with diamond ring! Is it from cat burglar days or a special spider?

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT BREAK UP!

Black Cat makes it very clear that it is over!

LYLA and Miguel read each headline in shock. Slowly, Miguel places the stack back into the box, trying to take in the new information. As he takes a step back, Miguel notices a newspaper crumpled on the ground. Hesitantly, he picks it up to read the headline.

SPIDER-MAN AND NIGHT-SPIDER: NEW YORK’S COUPLE REUNITES WITH A KISS?

After a tragic car crash, the former Black Cat was seen working with Spider-Man and sharing a passionate kiss!

Refusing to let his scattered mind confuse the situation, Miguel grabs the box, rushing back to Felicia.

“Felicia,” Miguel calls out, striding down the hall into the living room.

“Yes, my spide-” Felicia’s smile fades as she recognizes the box he holds. “What are you doing with that?” Her posture straightens to attention.

Miguel timidly sits on the couch next to Felicia, setting it down between them. “I found this.”

She sighs, staring at the two Newspapers on the top. “SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT: NEW YORK’S FAVORITE COUPLE SAVES THE DAY AGAIN!” and “SPIDER-MAN AND NIGHT-SPIDER: NEW YORK’S COUPLE REUNITES WITH A KISS?”

“Mí Vida.” Miguel brights Felicia out of her dark thoughts as his hand touches hers. “You can tell me.”

“He was the guy that… kissed me that night- the first night I stayed with you.” Felicia could feel her heartache as memories began to flow filling her mind’s eye.

“He was the asshole that kissed you!” Miguel shouted, his eyes glowing red with fury.

Felicia nods. “Peter Parker, the man obsessed with the front page of the Daily Bugle.”

“I just don’t get it,” Miguel becomes baffled by the information. “Peter Parkers aren’t exactly known for being egotistical assholes.”

“He wasn’t always… he was my first love.”

Freshman Year of College…

Black Cat offered a playful smile from her elevated vantage point, perched on the rooftop as she surveyed the treasures of Tiffany & Co. she planned to rob after nightfall.

"Tiffany's? Again?" Spider-Man couldn't help but express his disapproval. "Can't we fight somewhere else tonight?"

Her melodramatic gasp followed, and she placed a hand over her heart as though she'd been wounded. "I thought we were close enough not to judge each other."

Spider-Man moved closer, nimbly walking along the thin rooftop wall. "When are you going to join me on a real mission and help people?"

Black Cat met his gaze, her sultry tone curling into a teasing purr. "Whenever you decide to take me on a date."

Spider-Man chuckled at her response. "That's not fair. You never say yes."

Black Cat shrugged with a devious grin. "You haven't earned it yet, Spider."

Their flirtatious exchange took a more serious turn as Spider-Man whispered into her ear, "I thought I earned it two nights ago, but I guess I was just a booty call."

Before Black Cat could come up with a witty response, Spider-Man suddenly leaped off the building, swinging down to the street below. Concerned and curious, she hastily followed him, only to discover that he had stopped traffic to allow a family of ducks to cross safely.

It was a simple, lighthearted gesture, but it struck a chord with Felicia. She couldn't help but reconsider her goals and her plans for the night, including her intended heist at Tiffany's. Perhaps she did want to explore the Italian restaurant Spider-Man often raved about.

Junior Year of College…

Felicia's heart raced with excitement as she raced up the steps of the campus lecture hall, leaping into his arms. "Pete!”

"My precious girl," Peter replied with a tenderness in his voice. He showered his girlfriend's face with affectionate kisses as his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"I missed you," Felicia pouted, looking up through her lashes at her dashing boyfriend.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at her infectious energy. "It's been 8 hours!" he teased, his eyes sparkling with affection as he held her close.

"8 hours is a long time to show you this!" Felicia exclaimed, pulling a newspaper out from behind her back. She bit her lip, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Daily Bugle

SPIDER-MAN AND BLACK CAT: NEW YORK’S FAVORITE COUPLE SAVES THE DAY AGAIN!

"We're New York's favorite couple!" Felicia excitedly whispered, her eyes dancing with enthusiasm as she carefully ensured they wouldn't alert other students. "We were all over international news, babe!"

Peter took the newspaper and inspected the featured photo, which captured the thrilling action of Black Cat and Spider-Man's recent battle against Vulture, Shocker, The Lizard, Sand-Man, and Green Goblin.

"Look how much you've grown, baby," he said, his voice filled with pride and love. "I'm so proud of you. I couldn't have done it without the love of my life."

With those heartfelt words, Peter passionately kissed Felicia on the steps wanting everyone to see how much he loved his Felicia.

Later that night…

"Wanna order takeout to celebrate?" Felicia asked as she playfully traced invisible doodles onto Peter's chest.

"Chinese downstairs?" Peter responded with excitement, his eyes lighting up at the idea.

"Mmhmm!" She confirmed as her fingers continued to dance along his skin.

Peter couldn't help but smile, and he gently pulled Felicia in for a sweet, lingering kiss. "I love you so much," he whispered, his words laden with warmth and devotion.

Felicia giggled her laughter like a cascade of soft chimes, and gracefully slipped out of the bed to put on some clothes. "It shouldn't take long. Why don't you set up a movie and get some drinks ready?" she suggested a playful glint in her eyes.

"Sure, baby," Peter agreed, giving Felicia a playful smack on the ass before she left their cozy studio apartment.

As he reached for his sweatpants, his phone chimed with a message, a notification that displayed a name he hadn't seen in a long time. His heart raced as he read the name, his mind racing with questions and emotions. The air in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation, casting a shadow over what had been a tranquil and affectionate moment between him and Felicia.

MJ: Hey, Tiger. It's been quite a while. I caught a glimpse of you and your girlfriend on the news, and you two were nothing short of amazing. I'd love to catch up sometime. Feel free to text me whenever you can. I've missed you <3

Peter: Hey, thanks. I'm just relieved no one got hurt. Missing you too, by the way. How's everything going?

MJ: San Francisco has been chaotic. I can't help but wish I was back home with you. ;)

Peter hesitated, his gaze fixed on his phone, before typing his next message.

Peter: How's your boyfriend?

MJ: I called it quits with him yesterday.

Peter: Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.

MJ: Don't worry. I'm genuinely happy.

MJ: I just realized that he's nowhere near as spectacular as you, Spider-Man ;)

Peter: Haha... Thanks. You're remarkable yourself too.

MJ: I'll be moving back after college next year. Perhaps we can reconnect?

Peter: Yeah, I'd really like that.

MJ: Can't wait to catch you on the news, Tiger. ;)

Peter's fingers danced over the phone screen as he exchanged messages with MJ. The nostalgia of their conversation filled him with a mix of emotions – a bittersweet blend of longing and fond memories. He couldn't help but smile to himself, lost in the exchange of words that felt like a breath of fresh air from his past.

"Dinner!" Felicia's cheerful voice broke through his daydreams as she walked into their cozy apartment, holding two plastic bags filled with takeout. Her vibrant enthusiasm clashed with the introspective mood that had overtaken Peter. "You didn't set anything up," she remarked, her smile slightly faded, but still optimistic.

Peter quickly wiped the smile from his face, placing his phone down as he returned to the present moment. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, the weight of his previous conversation still lingering in his mind.

"It's okay, Spider. Everything alright?" Felicia inquired, her concern evident as she placed the bags of food on the small table by the window.

Peter managed to put on a smile, though the warmth that usually danced in his eyes was absent. "Never better."

Today…

Felicia's gaze was distant as she stared at the black and white print of the newspaper. "After that," she continued, "he became utterly fixated on the limelight. It was like he couldn't get enough of it." Her fingers absently traced patterns on the paper, betraying the weight of those memories. "He'd pose for every picture, he became obsessed with his physique, and took on the most outrageous stunts," she sighed, the words laden with both disgust and disappointment.

The room fell into a contemplative silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the city filtering in through the window. Miguel scooted closer to Felicia, letting her fall into his arms so that he could hold her. Then, she added, her voice lower, "He hooked up with MJ the very day she returned to New York." The words hung in the air, heavy with the knowledge of a romance that had played out in the public eye, and the impact it had on Felicia's relationship with the man in question. “Took me a bit to find out though.”

2 Weeks after Graduation…

The apartment was immaculate, as Felicia desired to surprise Peter on their special date night. Freshly cut flowers from the rooftop garden adorned the living space, their fragrant aroma mingling with the alluring scent of Felicia's new French perfume, filling the apartment with an ambiance of romance and elegance. She dressed in Peter’s favorite black dress with elegant make-up and sat on the fire escape of their cozy apartment, a hint of anticipation in her demeanor. She occupied herself by meticulously manicuring her nails, her signature black nail polish to match her attire. As the minutes ticked by, Peter's absence stretched to over an hour and a half, causing Felicia to be more engrossed in her nail care routine while the anticipation gradually turned into concern.

As the clock marked the two-hour milestone and Felicia's attempts at contacting Peter remained fruitless, her growing concern turned into determination. She decided to take matters into her own hands, donning her iconic Black Cat suit. With her agile and graceful movements, she swung out into the vibrant New York night, visiting the locations Peter frequently frequented in the hopes of finding him.

While gliding through the cityscape, the distinct sound of Peter's hearty laughter reached her ears, piercing through the bustling nightlife. Guided by this familiar echo, Felicia zeroed in on an apartment. With her newfound spider-powers, she stealthily crawled along the brick wall. Her cat-like finesse allowed her to peer inside the cluttered room, where she spotted Peter seated on a couch. Tears glistened in his eyes as he burst into laughter, the intensity of his amusement visible through the window. The sight both relieved her and piqued her curiosity, as she wondered what had brought such joy to her often absentminded boyfriend. Adjusting her angle, she finds the source in her blind spot.

Felicia's heart plummeted and an overwhelming feeling of nausea washed over her as she beheld the scene before her. Watching MJ in her underwear, return to the couch with two glasses of wine, a million thoughts raced through her mind. She knew she couldn't let Peter see how he had just shattered her world.

With a heavy heart and a sense of devastation, Felicia glided back to the apartment, her swift, graceful movements belying the turmoil within. She hastily packed her belongings, leaving no trace of her presence behind. The only place she could run to was the secret penthouse at the Plaza that her father left her. It was dusty as she had mainly used to store her stolen valuable jewelry and artwork. Previously, she was content with the idea of living a humble life with Peter, but life had different plans for her.

After moving everything out of her, now, old apartment, Felicia found herself on her rooftop of the Plaza, finally alone with her thoughts. It was the first time she allowed herself to fully absorb the reality of the situation, the pain of heartbreak weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Painted tears streamed through Felicia’s Black Cat mask, leaving streaks of make-up along her face. In an instant, the Spider-Woman-in-training decided to revert to her previous life, purging herself of any trace of Spider-Man. Her tears blurred her vision as she gazed down the street at the Dolce and Gabbana store. A shift in her demeanor occurred as an idea suddenly sparked in her mind. Before she could put her plan into action, she goes back inside for her old bag of tricks, hidden away in the dusty confines of her home.

Across town, Peter wiped away his tears of laughter before reaching for his phone, which was charging on the table. "Oh, shit!"

"What's wrong, Tiger?" MJ inquired.

"I have a ton of Spider-Man alerts; I gotta run!" Peter replied, quickly grabbing his Spider-Man suit from his bag.

"Hurry back, lover," MJ said with a gleam in her eye as she pressed a kiss to Peter's lips before he pulled the mask down and swung out of the window.

Felicia deftly twirled her vibranium baton in her hand as her eyes locked onto her next target. With a powerful swing, she shattered the glass protecting the precious jewelry. A triumphant scream escaped her lips as the gems and trinkets lay exposed. This was her fifth shop of the night, and in each one, she left his clothes and a deliberate and enigmatic message for New York's beloved Spider-Man.

Dolce and Gabbana: “CHEATER”

Tiffany and Co: “TRAITOR”

Gucci: “FUCK YOU”

Chanel: “LIAR”

Versace: “ROT IN HELL, SPIDER-MAN”

Each message bore the distinctive signature of clawmarks and a cat sketch, a calling card only too familiar to the city's web-slinger. As Spider-Man arrived at the first scene, a heavy sense of dread engulfed him.

"Did Black Cat make this for you, Spider-Man?" a cop inquired, eyeing the bold, black spray-painted words.

Spider-Man hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing. "Are there more?"

The police officer nodded. "Yeah, several places around the upper east side have been broken into and tagged."

"Fuck!" Spider-Man cursed before swinging away in search of the next location. The night was a relentless cycle of pursuit, revealing message after message until he reached the last one. His frustration and anxiety grew with each discovery.

"FUCK!" he exclaimed once more, his voice filled with exasperation. He finally returned home to find his apartment nearly empty, all his belongings in a messy pile in the middle of the room.

Felicia stood before her floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed, and gazed at the flashing police lights converging on the designer shops she had systematically destroyed. The ever-growing chaos in the city below, brought her a strange sense of peace.

After Felicia had run out of tears, she stepped away from the window and set about the task of cleaning the dusty apartment. She hung up her stolen art, unpacked her belongings, and gradually transformed the space into her new home. It was a solemn process of letting go and starting anew, but it needed to happen, even if she’d spend half the night doing so. Once the daunting task was complete, Felicia crawled under the covers of her king-sized bed, tears streamed down her face, and she cried herself to sleep.

Today…

As Felicia’s head rested on Miguel’s heart, she continued. “For the rest of the summer Peter and I were in an on-and-off relationship.” She cringed to herself. “He would keep trying to convince me that there was nothing between him and MJ. It was a painful cycle where I’d cried every night as I realized that I would never truly have his heart.”

“It’s not your fault, mí vida,” Miguel whispers, caressing her hair soothingly.

“Looking back, I realize I shouldn't have ignored the glaring red flags. I was a fucking dumbass and kept going back to him. I genuinely believed that the same Peter that would have stopped the world for some ducklings was still buried in there. But now, he's still obsessed with MJ's approval while she's obsessed with the chase. I hope they're happy in their psychotic relationship." She spat out, frustration causing her to throw the newspaper across the room.

Miguel presses dozens of kisses to Felica’s forehead to soothe her.

“Thanks, Miggy.” She looks up and smiles at Miguel. She moves around so her legs straddle his lap, a knowing smirk drawing itself on her face. She leans into his lips, whispering, “I consider myself very lucky to have you,” and presses her lips against his, both of them smiling into it.

“Is that so?”

“Hmm”

“And what is it about me that makes you feel lucky?”

Felicia takes a deep breath in before saying, “I love it when you throw me around.”

Miguel bursts out laughing at the bold statement. “You- you do huh?”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me O’Hara we’re supposed to be having a nice moment!” She slaps his chest to scold him.

Miguel catches his breath still laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry what- what else, please please continue baby.”

Felicia huffs before continuing. “I like how you’re a good leader. You think about everyone else before you do yourself.” Miguel nods for her to continue.

“And I don’t care what anybody else says, but I like how you have a scary, menacing walk. Where people look at you and are scared to approach you but I for one find it incredibly sexy.” Miguel’s smile fades into a stern expression, his tone changing.

“Who says what now?”

Oops. “No one! Just rumors, anyways!” Felicia quickly diverts the subject, waving her hand in the air as if to wipe it away from memory.

“I like the way you look at me.”

“And how do I look at you?”

Felicia smiles to herself about the answer, the heat rushing up to her cheeks.

“C’mon tell me.” Miguel sits up more on the couch, hands now rubbing at her sides.

“I like how you look at me like I’m your equal. Like I’m worthy in every way possible. Not someone who needs fixing, or needs to be changed. You look at me like a partner, not an enemy.”

Miguel slowly nods his head, absorbing all the things that Felicia expressed to him.

“I’m lucky to have you too sweetheart. You have no idea, how lucky.” Without giving her a chance for her to reply he immediately pulls her head in to kiss her deeply. She melts into his arms, her heart racing as their kiss deepens. His words echo in her head, I’m lucky to have you. She feels so lucky to be in his arms, feeling safe and loved. She’d never felt such adoration before, not like this, especially with Peter. She wraps her arms around him, wishing for the moment to never end.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099 @www-interludeshadow-com

#jedi jesi #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #stclairesplace #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel x reader #felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #spider-man x black cat #spider man x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man x felicia hardy #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #spider-man x reader

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soleilceirinen · 2 months

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When the darkness comes | Tommy Shelby x Shadowhunter!Reader - Part 4

Summary: you are a shadowhunter investigating the sudden rise of yin fen in the Downworld, the trail leads you to Small Heath and a blue eyed gangster.

A/N: I'm not sure about how this part turned out. Anyway, thanks for reading it. English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Warning: nothing.

Part 3 - Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Usually, patrolling the streets was boring. Not tonight. You had been following the trail of a ravener demon for about half an hour without it noticing. It was the first demon you had encountered in Small Heath since your arrival.

Luckily, it was a minor one and not very smart. Its disgusting appearance, a mix between a centipede and crocodile with some scorpion parts, made your stomach turn. Sometimes these kinds of demons were used to follow someone or to keep an eye on something.

That’s why you weren’t surprised when the ravener moved around all the places that were clearly Shelby territory. More specifically, the parts of Small Heath dedicated to their non legitimate businesses. So, without any doubts, the demon had something to do with the yin fen.

However, you didn't think it was directly related to the Shelbys.

That is, someone external, maybe the one responsible for sending them the drug so that they could distribute it throughout England and export it to America, was the one controlling the ravener. It could be a warlock’s work. Also, there were probably more than one demon, although you hadn’t seen others, which could be a problem if they decided to attack you in group.

Tired of walking around the city among piles of garbage and puddles from the same place to the next, you took out of your coat one of your seraph blades and got ready to finish off the ravener.

“Uriel,” you said out loud, giving a name to the blade. Instantly, it lit up, filled with angelic power as it brought light into the darkness.

At that moment, the demon noticed your presence. You already knew that the poor thing wasn’t very clever. It lunged at you with quick movements, trying to reach you with its disgusting insect-like legs. You moved faster thanks to a heightened speed rune. The seraph blade traced luminous arcs through the fog as well as the ravener’s body.

With a screech and a gush of dark ichor, the demon disappeared. They didn’t die, instead, they returned to their own dimension. You observed the light from the blade fading away, it was covered in ichor and it was starting to corrode so you dropped it, no longer useful. At least the ravener’s blood hadn’t splash all over yourself or your clothes.

You scrunch your nose for a moment, looking around. There were no signs of more demons but the night was still long until dawn. With a sight, you closed your coat to protect yourself from the cold wind and continued patrolling.

A couple hours later, you headed to The Garrison. A drink or two wouldn’t hurt.

The warmth of the pub welcomed you like a hug. You appreciated the cosy atmosphere, despite the noise of the drunk customers laughing and talking. So you headed to the bar, where you sat in one of the seats and rested your head on your hand.

After a while, you felt the presence of someone next to you, so close that their arm was brushing against yours. Slowly, you turned your head and watched him through your eyelashes, blinking lazily. “Good night, Tommy.”

He nodded, watching you closely. “Long night?”

You nodded back. "You have no idea. By the way, I'm not following you, in case you were wondering. I just wanted to get something to drink," you said quietly.

Tommy chuckled and turned to the bartender. He ordered a couple of bottles and glasses before turning to you, placing his hand on your lower back. "Come with me, we can talk in a quieter place."

Without removing his hand from your back, he guided you to the private room at the side of the pub. After closing the doors behind him, the noise was muffled and distant. You took off your coat and sat down on one of the seats, resting your head against the wall. Tommy sat by your side, watching you like someone does with an exotic animal. He lit a cigarette and started smoking in silence.

The small window opened, revealing the bartender with Tommy’s order. He got up to pick it up and left it on the table. Your eyes followed him, too tired to move.

"I'd like you to try something," he said, pouring a clear liquid into one of the glasses and setting it down in front of you.

You grabbed the glass and brought it to your face, smelling the contents. "What is it?"

“Try it,” he replied, leaning back in the chair, never taking his eyes off your face. At your expression of rejection, Tommy rolled his eyes and took the glass from your grasp, brushing his fingers against yours and drinking it in one gulp. “It isn’t poisoned, see? I just want you to try it and give me your honest opinion.”

You had learned the hard way not to drink or eat things offered by strangers, more specifically if those strangers were fairies. One could never trust them. However, you had already ruled out the possibility of Tommy being a fairy, right?

"Okay, I'll try it."

Tommy poured another glass and slid it in front of you. You took a small sip and hummed softly.

"Well?" he asked, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray.

You shrugged. "It's sweet, I suppose," you said unconvinced. "I don't drink regularly, so I don't know. It's not bad."

"Not bad..." he murmured.

You grabbed the bottle and turned it in your hands, looking at the label. "Gin," you read aloud, "distilled for the eradication of the seemingly incurable sadness... Shelby Company Limited, it’s your own gin?"

"It's part of the business," he explained as he sipped his whiskey.

As you finished the contents of your drink, a sudden wave of warmth spread through your chest, so you rolled up your shirt sleeves. That night you had discarded your shadowhunter gear and had decided to wear a simple white shirt and trousers. You loved wearing pants, it made fighting much easier than a dress or a skirt.

Actually, from a distance you could pass for a boy or a young man. If you had worn one of those peaked cups, you could infiltrate among the Peaky Blinders and they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Up close you couldn’t fool anybody. Tommy was delighted in the way the pants hugged your waist as well as the dark runes spread throughout your body, barely visible through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Do you like horses?" he asked suddenly.

You watched him with a raised eyebrow and nodded slowly, finding the question quite odd. "When I was little and lived in Idris, we had a horse. I used to ride all the time, it made me feel like Boudica. Why do you ask?"

Tommy shrugged. "Have you ever been to the races?"

After seeing you shake your head, he slapped the table cheerfully. He seemed to be in a good mood. "Tomorrow I'll take you to the races. Wear something nice."

“Alright,” you agreed, laughing softly at his enthusiasm.

He sat closer to you, throwing an arm over the back of your seat. You suppressed a smile, men were so easy to read sometimes.

"So, you don’t ride anymore?" he asked after a while. The tips of his fingers began to brush against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You heaved a long sigh. "No. Unfortunately, I had to move to London a few years ago and it's not the same. In Idris I used to live in the countryside, where I could ride freely, here I feel like I'm in a cage. Everything is grey, smokey and smells bad."

Tommy laughed. "I don't really understand what you mean about Idris but it sounds like a good place. What made you come to London?"

You looked into his eyes, he seemed genuinely interested. Still, you looked away, focusing your attention on your hands.

"I'm a Nephilim, remember? A Shadowhunter," you saw Tommy nod out of the corner of your eye, "although we're all over the world, because there are demons everywhere, our home country is called Idris."

“I’ve never heard of it,” he commented, sitting a little closer to you.

"Of course, because it is non-existent for mundanes. It is located between Germany, France and Switzerland. Mundanes cannot access it, it is our sanctuary," you explained. "Years ago my parents were sent on a mission, it seemed like something routine and simple but they were ambushed and it didn't end well. They..."

Finishing the sentence wasn’t necessary because Tommy had understood. He squeezed your shoulder gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

You looked at him with a frown. "Don't be sorry, that’s how life works. We are warriors, we must fulfil what has been entrusted to us since our creation, keep the Earth free of demons. Most Shadowhunters die young, that's how it is. We have been trained for it since we were children."

Tommy seemed surprised at the sudden vehemence of your words. Out of the blue, your face had become a hard facade, lacking the typical sparkle of amusement in your eyes. Instead, it seemed to have been replaced by a layer of grief and resignation.

"They sent me to the London Institute to finish my training there and I stayed. I had nothing to return to in Idris," you said with a sad smile on your lips.

He closed the little space that separated him from you and pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes, tasting tobacco and whiskey. Then, you reached up and placed your hand on the back of his neck, where his hair was so short that it was barely there. Tommy grabbed your waist, pushing his tongue deeper in your mouth.

As you began to feel your crotch getting wet, you pulled away from him with a soft whimper and held his sharp jaw in your hand. “At what time will we meet tomorrow?" you asked in a whisper.

“Meet you here at five,” he muttered, staring at your lips hungrily. You released him, connecting your mouths again.

An overwhelming feeling started to grow inside of your chest, so you got rid of his hands on your waist and stood up with fluid movements. You grabbed your coat and leaned to give him one last kiss. “See you tomorrow, Tommy.”

"Stay a little longer," he pleaded softly, trying to catch his breath.

You shook your head. A small smile threatened to peek at the corner of your mouth. It didn’t reach your eyes though. “I better get going, my night is not over yet,” you said, walking out of the room into the crowded pub.

Tommy remained there as he watched you disappear without looking back.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #reader insert #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #shadowhunter!reader #peaky blinders #shadowhunters and peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #soleilceirinen writes #when the darkness comes

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creepypasta-theunderground · 3 months

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Introduction: Level 5 Inmate 0001: The “Slender Man” aka. Dr. P.J Hopkins (for lore purposes, the facility has no clue they are the same guy)

Classification: Unknown

Threat Level: Severe

Primary traits: Quiet, aggressive.

Abilities: Can sting its victims and turn them into “zombies” of sorts. Other abilities are unknown as of now.

Age: Unknown

Gender: Unknown (suspecting male)

Debrief: (tw. Animal death, body horror, violence)

6 years ago, The Underground was founded. A place to keep ‘Inmates’ (unexplained anomalies) away from the regular world. From demons, to super-humans, to sentient machinery. The Underground was supposed to house, study, and neutralize these threats. The founder, Dr. P.J Hopkins, was a very well equipped man to find out the secrets of these strange beings. But, he used the space on the lowest level to do his own strange and unusual things. You see, he was a man of all trades, he knew everything you could ever ask, even the things you never thought had an answer. He knew it. He was a very smart man. And humble.

Dr. Hopkins was trying to find a way to expand. To find something more than this world, more than this universe. He worked for years to build a gateway to find alternate dimensions. He did. He opened “The Gate”. A large hole that crackled with deep and un heard of power. Dr. Hopkins appointed a small group of interns and scientists to his study as long as they kept it quiet of their secret operation. Trials and tests to find if the idea of travel through the gate was even possible turned up inconclusive. They used animals like dogs, cats, and rats to travel between the gateways and some came back fine. Shaken, but fine. Others…were changed, mutated into agonized forms of their past selves. Given they only stayed in the Gate for no longer than an hour, they concluded that staying between the gateways was harmful. But if you managed to reach the other side, you seemed fine. The final test before human trial was a dog, a husky named Kibbles. The Dog walked in with its long rope lead. Everyone waited as the rope tugged on for 30 minutes, which was the supposed amount of time it took to get from one gate to the other. But after a moment, the rope tugged, that dog wasn’t strong enough for that. Dr. Hopkins demanded they pull the dog back but within minutes the rope was cut and Kibbles was gone.

Dr. Hopkins deemed the project unable to host human trails that night.

After Kibbles went missing, every time Dr. Hopkins passed the Gate, he would hear something. Something…wrong. At first he thought it could have been his imagination. But as weeks went by, the sounds only took over his head. Whispers. Whispers beckoning him to come into the Gate. To follow their call. Dr. Hopkins had enough. He decided it was best to shut down the project. Knowing that it was too dangerous. But, as he started to shut down, the voices came. He tried to ignore the pleas, and only focused on closing the Gate. But something made him stop. Curiosity? Fear? No one knows why he stopped and found himself walking into the Gate. Having someone travel in and the machines keeping it open already going through the shut down process made the Gate unstable. His team heard the alarms that something was wrong and rushed to his aid, only to find that the Gate was closed. And Dr. Hopkins was gone.

Years. 2 to be exact. His trusted team was appointed as the new heads of the facility. They held a funeral for Dr. Hopkins. After some time, the basement was cleaned and abandoned. Until one day. There was a noise in the elevator shaft, a screech of some kind. Had an Inmate escaped. The facility went into lockdown and swarms of teams with weapons went down into the basement to see the commotion. What they found was harrowing. A ten foot tall naked humanoid, with 2 long scorpion tail like appendages on its back, and seemingly no face thrashing and screeching. After mild panic they sedated the thing and kept it in a level 4 cell. Studying it was hard. The thing was unresponsive and animalistic almost in nature. It couldn’t speak. They had found that it had 4 white eyes and a slit in its face that opened into a mouth for feeding. But from a distance, the thing appeared to be featureless.

Over time, staff noticed that it was using its scorpion tails to sting rats in almost an experimental way. Like it had no idea what it was capable of doing. Staff never found out what the stings could do. Until one day. A guard was stung when she was trying to get a better look at its antics, she showed symptoms of sweating, auditory hallucinations, and paranoia. The higher ups appointed her off the 4th floor. But she kept going back down and being detained. When questioned she said “It talks to me.” She was hard to speak to, and often she muttered to herself when left alone in a room. It wasn’t until she was stung a second time. This time, her symptoms were impaired brain function, lack of awareness, heightened strength, and aggression. Unfortunately, she was killed by gunfire in an attempt to attack fellow staff. The higher ups found it fit to move the creature into the basement in a special containment. They are still in attempts to study the thing. So far to no avail.

(End of debrief)

Staff notes:

• It talks to me. No please you have to believe me, its talking to me! It’s in my head I cant get it out, help me! Help me! CUT IT OUT OF MY HEAD!! - Staff member Rosa Oswald (deceased)

• The thing gives me the creeps, all it does is stare and sometimes I swear I can hear it whispering to me. -Anon

• I decided to start calling it the Slender man, but I cant really tell if it’s a man? Maybe it’s a woman? Who knows, its freaky - Staff Member Cody

#creepypasta #creepypasta au #creepypasta in 2024!?#creepypasta the underground #my art #the slenderman #slenderman #I FINALLY WROTE HIS LORE #Hes kinda silly #why he kinda #creepypasta art

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hope-to-hell · 11 months

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Shoulda missed the boat. Smut, pain, scarification, wounds, noncon. David 8 x Reader. Curiosity without compassion is a dangerous thing, especially when he doesn’t mind getting a little messy. This is more of a sketch than anything: brief moments during a long journey.

—-

You’re sick on the shuttle up to the docks, and so you miss the cut-glass cheekbones, the assessing glance, the uncanny stillness of his hand. The needle, however, can’t be ignored; there’s a blinding sting for half a heartbeat, and then nausea recedes and there he is. Better. It’s not a question.

The fuck?

And that’s the first time you meet David.

Of course, he’s not yet David to you; he’s still some anonymous creep and nevermind how you really do feel better. You can’t just—

Hm. Shouldn’t, perhaps. But I assure you, I most certainly can.

Can, indeed. He can navigate, name the stars, even recite old films line-by-line. He makes himself indispensable aboard the ship and the worst part is, he’s charming: so much so that you don’t feel the hand around your wrist until it’s too late, until his nails leave bloody indents in your flesh. He smiles his empty smile and says let’s get you to bed; the crew will gamble and tell their stories for hours yet, and you’re just the newcomer.

Gonna tuck your friend into bed there, Dave?

He doesn’t much like to be called Dave any more than he likes to be called you motherfucker or anything else, but at least with you he knows there’s a good reason to reach beyond his given name; he sees the bruises bloom under his hand and draws a line between your curse and the way you’re dripping wet. For me? Already? We’ve hardly gotten started.

Then there’s your bare ass cold on the table for the interrogation: how did it feel when he— It was, it was— the current sparking electric across your skin, leaving trails of heat and when he crooks his fingers there’s a moment when your vision goes white— am I dying—

Of course not, he isn’t finished with you yet. He’s hazy, sharp teeth sliding in and out of focus; his questions are stones piled on your chest. Tell me everything. Every sensation, every thought: he files it all away and next time he will be yet more vicious; he will drill down to what makes you tick and he will tear it all apart.

(This ship is haunted: moans ascend into wails that batter their way through the vents but dissipate into ethereality by the time the crew can hear; rumors whisper through the mess and are immortalized in little sketches scratched into the table. Ghosts, deep-sea fishes, strange creatures that walk like men but are all claws and teeth: each has a place on this ship, and each is almost true. Sailors shared their fears and became stronger for it. He drips venom in a pattern on your thigh; it hisses and smokes and all you can do is scream into his hand. I know. It hurts. Acknowledge it, accept it, let it fade into the background. Pretty words. He will be with you always, woven through your flesh in tight and shiny knots.)

He takes the pieces of you that fall away; he immortalizes them in a steady script on paper gone yellow at the edges, diagrams and sketches illuminating all the margins. Of all the luxuries on all the wide worlds he chose this: paper from trees long gone to dust, streaked with red across an image of your face gone slack and still. Do you dream of him in the long darkness between islands of awareness? You must, for how he’s dug himself deep into your bones; he says goodnight and— strange— it’s almost tender. Perhaps the scorpion and frog are fond of one another, in their way.

(Hey Dave, where’s your friend? You two were up real late last night. Still the crew means to be friendly; their gentle teasing floats warmly in the air and they don’t know— but how could they not; how could they miss the way his smile only ever bares his teeth— his hand grips at the memory of flesh and bile; he thinks of peeling off your scabs to taste the serous fluid there. Will it taste of copper, or of sharpness? Will the burn of acid still linger at the edges of the wound?)

He is all big broad smooth hands— nails digging in and unearthing the red-yellow-red of bubbling blisters gone to scabs— there is beauty to be found, even in the dullest places— he will leave concentric lines of healing skin; he will press his fingers down to make you writhe. There, there. Don’t cry. Don’t be so ungrateful; you are an infinitesimal speck and yet you sail among the stars. He bends to lick your wounds and considers the taste; life itself flows there in lost little eddies, waylaid from its journey to your heart. He takes those clever fingers of his— sticky, now, and with their imprints still welling red across your thigh— and plunges them deep into your center without warning.

Curious. One hand moves in you with a wrenching wet sound; the other now creeps its way across your thigh, sketching pain in livid streaks. One sensation amplifies the other. And now he will dig and twist and claw until he unearths that pearl inside you: the little seed of self that’s buried deep. Try your best to separate the two, and tell me how it feels.

(He guides you to your seat with a hand at your back— such a gentleman, aren’t you, David— and though he is in silhouette, still he seems all teeth and eyes. There is emptiness there, fathoms deep; he sees how much of you he’s pared away, and how much is left to cull.

Better, he says.)

#michael fassbender #david 8 #david 8 x reader #David 8 x you #David 8 fic #David 8 smut #david (prometheus)#david (prometheus) fic #david (prometheus) smut #david (prometheus) x reader #david (prometheus) x you #my fic

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writerofadream · 4 months

Text

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI! Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Sixteen: Cooking is a way of life

You woke up on your own will this morning. Your eyes blinked a few times as you rubbed the sleep out of them.

You stared at the window and saw that the sun was only just rising. It must’ve been pretty early. As you jumped out of bed, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Skin and bones.

A sigh came out of your mouth as you fished around the cabin looking for Duncan’s black sweatshirt. It slid over your head with ease.

Funny, the only reason you wore his sweatshirt was to lie straight to his face. You were not doing the best when it came to eating at camp.

You slid on a pair of shorts and went into the bathroom that the girls and the boys shared. You brushed your teeth as you heard a thud.

Duncan was awake as well and he walked into the bathroom with his signature crooked smile. He slid his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek smiling as you laughed.

“You look good in my clothes.” He whispered in his morning-raspy voice and your body tingled. He smirked, he knew what he was doing.

He dug his chin into your collarbone as you spit into the sink rubbing your mouth as you twirled around wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a long kiss. “Don’t think the sweater can distract me, sweetheart, you gotta eat.” he mumbled against your lips.

You grumbled. “The food here is nasty.” He gave you a look. “You ate the food at juvie.” He pointed out. “Barely.” You argued as you brushed your hair up into a ponytail.

“No excuse. If you faint on me once, I’m going to straddle you and force-feed you.” He promised. You rolled your eyes. “What if I liked that?” You winked as he brushed his teeth.

Duncan smirked leaving a trail of kisses up your neck.

“I’ll take away my clothes.” He whispered. “Oh you absolute bastard. This is why you’re father hates you.” You grumbled dramatically. “Your anger is why your momma died.” He pointed out, causing you to roll your eyes punching his shoulder.

“Love you too, scorpion.”

As you all sat down for breakfast Chris had an announcement. “This week’s battle is as old as time itself. It’s a battle of the sexes. Girls will move to the Screaming Gophers and vice versa. Now let’s move it.” You raised an eyebrow to Duncan who just raised up his phone cringing.

He didn’t like being away from you, ever. Made his paranoia act up. God, he was going to get WEIRD.

You didn’t like it either, it was terrifying.

All of you exited the building. You had your hands stuffed in the pockets of the sweatshirt as you fiddled the stray cigarettes in them. In the corner of your eye you noticed Heather try to come up to you, but as Duncan wrapped an arm around you, she was warded off.

“I’m scared.” He mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. You stopped him, and held a hand on his cheek, which he kissed. “Hey, tiger, we’ll be fine. Aren’t we always? We were fine in New York, Germany, and Rhode Island. This is not worse.”

Duncan sighed, his eyes cloudy with worry. He smiled sadly, “You’ll always keep me afloat won’t you baby?” you smiled “Obviously.”

—-

You grabbed your small bag out of your cabin and ran over to the boy's side. But Duncan wasn’t there.

You raised an eyebrow at DJ who just laughed and pointed up. Duncan was laying on the rafter beam and listening to music, he quickly noticed you.

He ‘fell’ and hung upside down causing you to smile. “Kiss goodbye?” He nearly begged. “Of course spidey.” You teased and your lips quickly went to his. “Oh shut up, I’m too single for this nonsense.” DJ groaned, throwing a slipper at you.

You rolled your eyes, flipping him off. “Love you too, little miss scary.” The man smiled, shaping his hands into hearts much to Duncan’s disapproval.

“I miss you already.” Duncan yelled as you waved goodbye skipping over to the Screaming Gophers cabin where Bridgette waited on the steps.

“Ain’t no way I was going in alone.” She smiled as you arrived and you quickly heard Leshawna yelling. You paled, “Good choice.” You helped your friend up and you walked up the stairs opening the door.

“No one’s leaving till I found out who ate my pudding packets.” Leshawna growled at Heather. “Oh goody.” You grumbled throwing your bag inside.

–

You dragged a hand down your face as you crossed your legs on the outhouse toilet. “This already reminds me way too much of juvie, one time I ripped this girl's card by accident cause I stepped on it, right? This girl rips out a chunk of my hair, eats it, and then steps on my face.” You looked up in annoyance.

–

“I ate them, so what?” Heather crossed her arms and Bridgette’s eye twitched as she watched you plead to the heavens. “I will become a Christian if you disqualify me right now, God. I’m begging.” you prayed.

Heather and Leshawna’s argument echoed in the cabin. Gwen and Lindsay looked at you both trying to convey an apology.

The skinny-rich girl finally seemed to notice you both had entered. “Oh hello, Bridgette, and Y/N. I know we’ve had our differences but I hope that we can put them aside and become friends.” She said the last part mainly towards you. You raised an eyebrow.

She grabbed both of your arms, and you wanted to absolutely start beating her. Absolutely no random girl got to touch you with permission, Heather’s voice spoke sickly-sweet.

“Welcome to the cabin you both, we’re like a family here. Anything you need, just yell.” She smiled warmly. Gwen rolled her eyes.

Bridgette was falling towards the girls charms but you stayed quiet. “Oh Y/N,” Heather’s attention came towards you.

“I’d just love to have someone as powerful as you on my team, you're such a badass I’m pretty sure the boys are terrified of you.” She giggled, you nodded slowly.

“Bridgette, I made sure you had a bed above me, and Y/N I figured you wouldn’t want to share a bunk so I gave you the single bed, underneath it there’s a little box so you can put your knives and gun in, I hope you like it.” You raised an eyebrow, this girl had read up on you.

Heather began to give the blonde gizmos and gadgets before her attention turned on you.

“Look, I don’t know if you’ll like this, but I got a butt-load of brothers back home and they love hunting, so I wanted to give you this, they sent it to me in a care-package.” She handed you a kunai blade. Your eyes widened.

Maybe, you were falling for her charms. Gwen noticed your stance start to slip. “Nothing’s free, Y/N. Don’t choose a side that wants everyone to end, including itself.” She warned. “Mind your business, goth-girl.” Heather hissed which restarted another Leshawna fight.

You were holding the kunai blade. It was brand-new, never used, so shiny. So sharp. So shiny. As the two girls got distracted you slipped the knife in your pocket and Gwen smiled.

You had a tiny 3-D printer for on the fly jobs, a new kunai was quickly replicated (Duncan had hooked up a WILD engine on that thing). You rolled your eyes handing the blade back to Heather.

“Sorry babe, nothing personal. If going to jail taught me one thing it was don’t go with the people that gave you the blade to stab yourself in the back with.” You stepped over the newly formed tape-line.

Heather growled. “Alright crazy, I don’t want to live in a cabin with a girl that can snap any minute. You could kill us all.” She was trying to rile up.

For some freaking reason it was, without Duncan to ground you it was easy for people to use your anger to their advantage.

What happened next? Was not your proudest moment.

–

You whined to yourself staring at the camera. “This is why I was in solidarity.” You complained.

–

Your gun was up in seconds and was pointed at Heather’s forehead causing her to shriek. “Don’t call me crazy sweetheart and we won’t have a problem. For your information, anybody I’ve hurt, has been for the protection of the idiot I love.” You growled, there was no way in HELL you were going to stay with her now.

“Alright Bridge, you can either stay with us or stay with the emo-chick, a literal scorpion, or the dollar store Cardi-B. If you choose them, you're not allowed on our side.” Heather sniffled.

You all stared at the girl expecting something else. The pacifist looked back at all of your anxiety clear as dawn on her face. Suddenly, her foot stepped into your path. You smiled and Gwen and Leshawna cheered as Heather and Lindsay whined.

—-

Everyone was in the lunch-hall as Chris and Chef explained this week's meal. Duncan was extremely jittery and was nearly shaking. He ran to hug you once he had seen you but quickly was rifling through the sweaters pockets for a cigarette.

“I don’t have a lighter…?” You were confused.

“Owen ate my pack, he thought they were candy cigarettes.” Duncan whispered, stuffing the sticks into his pockets. “Honey, are you okay?” Duncan finally seemed to calm down. He patted his pockets down and let out a long sigh. He had at least nine now. He’d get some more, he’d find a way.

“Yep, better, now that you're here.” He wrapped an arm around you kissing your head, and you kissed his cheek worrying about his addictive personality.

“Today’s challenge, brunch of disgustingness.” Chris announced to you all and Duncan laughed. “At least now you’ll have to eat.” He pointed out, secretly thrilled because now you’d be forced to eat something!

Chris announced the prize, antibiotics, five-star resort, food.

But the worst part was? The challenge involved a nine-course meal. You felt sick and covered your mouth with a wave of nausea coming on. “Hey mi vida, you alright?” Duncan was suddenly kneeling to your height. You nodded not wanting what was too come.

The first dish was cow balls. You rolled your eyes as the boys team nearly began bawling their eyes out, Duncana cast you a glance and you blew him a kiss as you began juggling with the said food causing him to vomit.

He flipped you off. “Love you too baby!” Lindsay giggled.

You were staring at the meat balls once it was your turn. Leshawna questioned you “Why aren’t you eating, girl?” she popped the ball into her mouth. “I don’t have the best relationship with… food.” You half-chuckled half-whined. Leshawna was about to question before she realized.

“My mama always said the best way to get yourself to eat was to pretend you were doing something else. So act like you're rubbing your face, then pop a ball in, sister.” She chuckled.

You raised an eyebrow, but you tried it successfully popping two in. Duncan laughed from his side of the tables. “I might have to ask you to come home with us.” He called out to Leshawna who smirked.

The girls won this challenge getting the boys to argue.

Chris had to separate them all. Well, Chef Hatchet did.

The next food was pizza, with jellyfish, crickets, and live fish. You smiled, as weird as it was, this meal reminded you of your mother, who was from Japan. She loved to invent foods no one dreamed of eating. When she died, it was hard for you to indulge in food.

Age two:

A little toddler Y/N cooed as she climbed over to her mama who was cooking. “Food.” Y/N pointed at the dish which currently contained a pink jellyfish sauce, and raw fish sushi on the side. “Would you like to help me, bunny?” Your mama picked you up and set you on top of the counter.

“Sweetheart, cooking is so important for our family. It’s so important for everyone. It connects us with our past. When I cook I can almost feel like I’m in Japan again, at my mother’s boutique as she boiled rice in the back. But cooking, cooking can contain everyone. My cooking has my family history, your fathers has Greek food with a little American thrown in it. But you my darling, can have anything you want as your cooking. Just make it yours.” She booped your nose causing you to giggle.

On that memory alone, you shoved the food into your mouth. You smiled. Honestly, it wasn’t even terrible. “Damn girl, how are you so good at eating food with live fish?” Leshawna gagged once she peered at the fish.

“My mom came from Japan, my father from Greece. I never grew up around food that was considered normal. My first dessert was baklava with a sweet vanilla sauce that came from dragon fruit and chocolate.” you smiled. “That doesn’t help us.” Heather complained.

“Okay, do this.” You sat on top of the table so the girls would look at you.

“Close your eyes, think about growing up, seeing your mom or dad cook meals that would make the entire house liven up with smell. Think about how happy it made them when you wanted to taste-test, think about dinner with your families.” The girls slowly put the pizza in their mouths and you smiled.

Lindsay asked you “How are you so good at that?” She smiled wide. “I’m good with memories, I’m good at getting people to miss.” You gave her a kind smile and she nodded in return realizing that the words you spoke were true.

“How’d you do that?” Leshawna questioned the girls, her pizza still sat on her plate. They all glared at her. She cost them another point.

The next meal was earthworms and snail sauce and you had to laugh at Chef.

“Don’t you realize my mom was a cook who lived in Japan until she was twenty, and my father was a boy who grew up in Greece until he was fifteen. I’m used to crazy meals.” You gave him a fist bump. “These bunch of sissy-white kids didn’t though.” He pointed at your boyfriend.

“Fair.”

You closed your eyes, imagining when you were five.

Age five

Your father always danced in the kitchen, he was full of this energy every time he cooked. Tonight was his specialty, spaghetti. Your mama returned home from work, and from your spot in the living room playing with barbies, she picked you up and settled her on your hip laughing at her husband as he danced.

“Hello Αγάπη μου.” Your mom called out, causing the excited man to turn around and smile happily. “Ah yes、 hello 私の人生.” He gave her a kiss and tickled you. That was how they showed their love, they spoke in the other’s language.

You ate half of the worms before Chris had announced the other team winning, again.

You glared at your team who looked like they were on death's doorstep. You slammed your fist on the table.

“Okay ladies, I literally might have an eating disorder and I still have eaten more than you. When are you gonna stop feeling sorry for yourselves and kick some boy ass.” They all began smiling as Gwen agreed with you.

The next meals were horrible, but the girls got through them and even got up to a tie until the last meal, which was dolphin hotdogs.

“Americans are so interesting.” You stared at your American boyfriend who ate the hotdog easily. Honestly it was probably more healthy than the typical hotdog. “Yep.” Heather agreed and shoved the hotdog in your mouth with all the other girls following in pursuit.

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You ate the hotdog easily, but it was Bridgette who was having a hard time. But so was DJ so a very unhappy Chris decided to have an eat off.

“We’re going to have one person from each team take shots of cockroach juice.” you and Duncan both raised your hand. “Okay first of all we have enough info to know that you both are borderline alcoholic so you will not be taking shots. I was going to have Owen and Leshawna.” Chris rolled his eyes and you both groaned.

You and Duncan sat by the door as the others watched Leshawna lose the challenge. He lit a cigarette and you sighed. “When are you going to quit?” You asked him putting your head on his knees. He looked ashamed.

“It’s really hard, baby. Really freaking hard… I’ll get nic patches at the hotel.” he rubbed his eyes. “Are you doing okay, this is more food than you’ve ingested, like, ever.” He smiled sadly. “Actually, sort of, I’m really nauseous, but I ate it.” You felt your mom hug you as Duncan kissed your lips and whispered. “I’m so proud, she’s so proud.” and you chuckled sadly.

The boys sadly ended up winning.

Geoff had to literally drag Duncan away from you, “I’ll call!” Duncan yelled for his comfort more than yours. “He’s obsessed with you.” Gwen laughed, shaking her head. “Yep.” You smiled. “I’m in love with my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

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