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sofasoap · 1 year

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life of Captains

Bit of angry writing and wanting to throw down ideas that will never really eventuate into full story.

Task 141 boy will be in their 40s. Risen to the ranks of captains.

Mature themes. Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Masterlist

Captain Soap MacTavish

“Morning.”

“... What’s with that?” Ghost pointed.

“ You like it? Took me a long time to grow and trim.”

“....”

“Morning Ghost. Morning Price…. You are not Price.”

“ Hey Gaz. Long time no see. Congratulations on joining the captain rank.”

“ … What is with the mutton chop? Are you trying to be Price?”

“Nah, my wife commented on how much she likes my beard once after I was too lazy to shave so I thought I gave it a go.”

“Too much information. I don’t need to know.”

Next day someone left a fishing hat and cigar on Soap’s desk.

“What happened to your hair?”

“Oh this? Ghost did it. It was getting a bit too long so I asked him to trim it back for me.”

“.. well tell him to stick to his day time occupation. No one ruins my joysticks to pleasure.”

Captain Simon Ghost Riley

“Here’s the file Captain.”

“ Thank you…..” Simon paused.

“.... You want to say something?”

“... Is your Ma still angry with me?”

“.... Yes.” Aileen sighed. “Da. You knew she would have found out one way or another, you should have let her know.”

Simon knew it was his own fault. He never saw you so angry since you fell out with him when you announced the surprise pregnancy with the twins.

He didn’t want you to be worried. But Soap accidentally let it slip.

Wrath of Mrs Riley was not to be trifled with.

“... Ma said she wants tulips, no roses.”

Simon smiled under his mask. Taking the hint that your anger is starting to subside, and now it’s the chance for him to make amends.

Later that day, a few soldiers saw their famous Captain at the florist, ordering a huge bouquet of flowers, with twin Sargents nagging him.

Captain John Price

“CAPTAIN JONATHAN PRICE.”

Air in the room instantly froze. Everyone knows when you, the head of the medical team, uses that tone, someone is going to be dying under your wrathful spit.

“ Yes lo…. Yes Ma’am. What can I do for you.”

“ In my office. NOW.”

Price can sense everyone’s pity through their eyes as he walks out of the room. Good luck, stay alive.

Price follows you silently through the corridor. Towards the direction of his office.

Price smirked.

Price emerges from his office early the next day, hair and shirt dishevelled but sporting a smug smile, plus a few hickies on his neck.

Captain Kyle Gaz Garrick

“You promise?”

“ Yes babe. I promise.I will be home more and less on field missions from now on.”

Fifteen years of marriage with Kyle, through the up and down. Worrying that a phone call from unknown number is going to be the phone call, telling you your husband isn’t going to come home to you anymore.

“They have been bugging me for years to share my expertise with the metro police special units, I thought it was time to take up that offer.”

“ So you're going to be teaching in front of all those recruits? Should I start calling you Professor Garrick, and get you a bi-focal glasses that I been nagging you about?”

Gaz rolled his eyes. He refuses to admit he is starting to struggle to read fine prints, even with Price nudging him.

“ There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Part of him is glad he will get to spend more time with his family. He missed out on so many milestone events. You understand that comes with the jobs, but seeing disappointment in the children’s eyes when you tell them again and again that their daddy isn’t going to be home for their first recital or performances really hurts you both.

He worked hard enough, it is time for him to step back, to enjoy time with his family, and with his taskforce 141 families as well.

Sorry @brewed-pangolin for stealing the mohawk joystick quote.

#task force 141 #captain john price #captain price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #gaz garrick #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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elvenbeard · 4 months

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◲ Omikuji ◱

V: "Okay, I told you mine, what's yours sayin'?"

Kerry: "Oh, next year's gonna be my year, baby. Every song's gonna go through the roof, gonna get so many new fans, money, fame... And it even says I'm gonna get laid this very night!"

V: "Uh-huh... does it also say 'draw the most specific fortune anyone's ever gotten'?"

Happy New Year from Vince and Kerry and me :3

I mentioned before that Vince isn't very religious or keen on traditions, not a big celebrator of Christmas either. There is one exception though, and that's going to the Shinto shrine on New Year's to draw a fortune. He always went there as a kid with his father, celebrating Hatsumōde, probably the only real bonding moments they ever had. So, when he later returns as an adult for the first time, it was a very bittersweet moment. Similarly, when Kerry lived in Tokyo still, I bet he also participated in this tradition with his family at least a few times, whenever he wasn't on tour or otherwise occupied.

So, back in Night City now, even better to make some new, happier memories together :D

I also made and alt-version (which was my original idea for this piece actually, but for reasons I changed it slightly XD), below the cut, which is more fitting for my personal timeline of events if this scene takes places on New Year's 2077/2078 :3

I hope you like either picture and thanks for reading all my ramblings <3 XD

He's fine, I promise!!! Or he will be, on the way to recovery xD I touched upon Vince getting some kind of treatment/surgery to deal with the Relic post-Sun-Ending in my fic and in some VP before, and at first I actually wanted to just post this version... but he looks so different with his iconic rattail gone, and I love drawing it, so yeah XD Two versions it is!

Also, since Omikuji vending machines are an actual thing, I think they probably have these in Night City as well... and despite all the wonders and horrors of our dystopian future, I like the idea that you still get your fortunes printed on old-fashioned paper so you can tie them on a tree or string if they're bad luck XD The good old clash between tradition and process I love so much about this world.

Good fortune for your 2024, with money, fame, and getting everything else fulfilled that you're into and hope for xDD

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanart #cp2077 fanart #cyberpunk fanart #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry x v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #art by me #I think this is one of my favourite pieces of them I've ever made so far #really happy with their expressions and likenesses and yeah #also when I get around finally to modding clothes again... I wanna make neokitsch recolors for the kimono so badly xD

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 6 months

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I would love a BCC smut headcannon fic! I’ll leave it up to you! Not many people write about all of them. Thank you! 😊

Fine Print

An: This started out as some form of head cannons and turned out to whatever this is. I honestly don't know what this is.

Blackpool Combat club X Fem reader

Main Masterlist

Word count: 835

Summary: When Regal betrayed the BCC they were in search of a new leader and somehow you fit the part. You should have read the fine print

When Regal turned on the BBC months ago I didn’t know what to expect. Sure we all knew it would happen at some point but did that point need to be right now? I had the pleasure of being ringside for the match against Mox and MJF, I saw firsthand the look of betrayal on Jon’s face once he realized what had happened.

The next few weeks were a bit of a daze, originally I was just being used as a distraction, as bait for this feud with Max. I honestly didn’t mind it, I still hated him for what happened during our days in the pinnacle so when Regal came to me with the idea I had to accept. Now that he’s gone the BCC needed a leader. I would assume the torch would be passed to Mox or Danielson but me? What did they see in me? Why did they want me to take over their sacred club?

Those next weeks as the new leader of the BCC went well, almost too well. We would travel and room together since that’s what factions do but I always felt like there was something else. The way the boys would exchange looks between the other hoping I didn’t realize but I always did. The way they would get jealous when other male talent approached me backstage. I almost felt like I was pray and they were predators waiting to find the right moment to attack.

Tonight I had a match on Dynamite against Hikaru Shida, of course the boys needed to be ringside for my match. When I arrived at the arena I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, almost like I did something wrong. Just then Shida came up to me.

“Hey Y/n!” Shida said, approaching me with a big smile

“Hi Shida, you ready for tonight?” I asked

“I’m ready to kick your ass” She said laughing “But I came to give you a bit of a heads up”

Heads up? Why would I need a heads up?

“I think your little club is mad at you?” Shida said to me before a “Good luck”, with that she left

I stood in the middle of the entrance frozen in fear. What did I do? Everyone knows not to piss off the blackpool combat club. Trying to prepare myself for the absolute worst I walked down a few halls until I made it to our private locker room. I knocked on the door, no response, so I knocked again, still nothing. I slowly opened the door and realized it was pitch black in the room, just then I felt someone grab my arm and pull me inside.

I tried to move, make a sound, but I couldn't. Whoever grabbed me had a tight grab on my wrists from behind with one hand, the other covering my mouth. Still I tried to escape but then I felt it and I realized exactly what was going on. I could feel the hard erection pressed against my ass. My body now was able to relax, just for a moment. Then that’s when I realized that it was Mox who held me, at least I thought it was, I was still in the dark.

Just then the mystery man let go of me and the bright lights turned on, revealing the entire blackpool combat club.

“Where were you yesterday?” Mox asked as he slowly approached me, now face to face

I didn’t know how to respond

“I’m asking you a question: doll face, where were you?” Mox asked again, voice louder this time

“Home?” was all I could manage to stay

“That’s just not good enough, you see we don’t appreciate you not joining us yesterday” Danielson said “The BCC we eat, we sleep, we train together. You know this. So why weren't you here yesterday?”

I didn’t know what to say, truthfully I wanted to travel to the show alone today. I was starting to grow a bit uncomfortable at times, I swear Yuta was watching me in the shower the other day.

“What’s the matter? Cat got ya tongue?” Mox said as he grabbed me once again, pressing my ass against the bulge in his jeans. “You feel that Y/n? This is what you do to me, I’m pretty sure you do this to all of us. I’m going to say this once baby so you better listen. You may be the leader of this club but I will tell you what to do. Part of your job Y/n, will be to help me out with this little problem I have here alright?”

Just then, Mox gave the others a nod to which Yuta, Claudio and Bryan left the room leaving me and Mox alone.

What have I gotten myself into?

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igotanidea · 1 year

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The logical choice :Dick Grayson x fem!reader preview

A/N: This is inspired by the episode of the best sitcome ever produced aka "Friends" - The list (season 2 ep. 8)

*******

"What is it?" Y/N asked upon seeing a single piece of paper in Tim's hands.

"Nothing!"

"Oh, come on, let me see...."

"Trust me on this, you don't want to." Tim shook his head passing the obect to Dick, who quickly tossed it to Jason, who was standing the furthest from Y/n.

"All right, fine" Y/N shrugged "I won;t be playing your silly games here...." before any of the boys realised what was happening she snuck past Jason and rip the paper from him, her eyes immediately focusing on the printed text.

"What.....?" she stuttered "Dick?" her hurt expression killed him at the spot

"It was Jason's idea!"

"Yeah, here's the part I was hoping would not come out." Jason muttered

"Y/N." she started reading outloud "cons. Tend to live in her own world. Keep her walls up. Stubborn as hell..... Wow.....Just.... just wow." a single gasp was enough of an indication of her emotional state.

"Y/n...." Dick took a step forward, realising that Jason and Tim have already left the room leaving him to deal with her alone. Cowards.

"On the other side " she moved back, out of his reach "Barbara. Pros and cons..... You were comparing us like this? THAT was your way to choose......?" her voice broke and she was unable to finish the sentence. First tears showing in her eyes.

"Y/n... please, it's not what....."

"It's exactly it. I.... I want to be alone, Dick."

"Please, let me explain.... Please, I'm begging you...."

"I'm out." she walked right past him, not giving a single glance and run straight to her room.

"Good luck with making it right, Dickhead...." Jason reappeared just in time to see Y/N disappear in the hallway.

"Shut up!" Dick run his hands through his hair in utter desperation, barely restraing from tearing them all out. It would be so much easier to blame it all on his brother and his stupid idea but deep inside Dick knew it was on him. He never should have listened to the bad advice.

Coming soon.....

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ejzah · 3 months

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In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 27

***

Kensi stayed for dinner and while Deeks cleaned up. Over the course of the evening, Caleb slowly opened up a little more, even breaking a couple of smiles.

Deeks thought at least a part of his continued reserved behavior came down to embarrassment. While Deeks appreciated that Caleb recognized what he did was wrong, he also didn’t want him to wallow in guilt.

When he had finished cleaning the few dishes used for the pizza, and packed up the half-finished meal he’d started, Deeks made his way into the den. He found Kensi and Caleb with their backs to the door, bent over a book. He stayed in the doorway watching them interact, and listened to the rise and fall of Kensi’s voice more than the words.

“Wait, did you forget to read the fine print!!!!” Kensi exclaimed.

“They ate spicy salsa on accident and now it’s going to make them breathe fire,” Caleb announced in between giggles. “And then the whole house is gonna burn down.”

Deeks smiled as he recognized one of Caleb’s most favorite books. Even if it had be a crappy couple of days, he had a lot to be grateful for. Mainly the two people crouched over a book about dragons. He waited for them to finish before interrupting with a gentle clearing of this throat.

“Hey kiddo, it’s getting close to bedtime,” he said, and both Kensi and Caleb’s heads swiveled towards him.

“We were having so much fun, we completely lost track of time,” Kensi said, nudging Caleb with her knee. “I better get home. Have good night, ok?”

“Ok. Thanks for reading with me, Kensi.” He dipped his head, peeking up from under his bangs. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Kensi, clinging to her for several long moments. When he let go, Kensi brushed his hair back with a fond smile that made Deeks’ chest ache in a way that wasn’t physical. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Kensi,” he said.

“I’ll walk you out,” Deeks offered. “I’ll be back in a couple, buddy.”

Caleb nodded, turning back to the small pile of books and trains scattered nearby.

“Ugh.” Deeks rubbed his palms over his face as he and Kensi reached the front door. “This is not how I imagined today going.”

“Hey, we’re all going to have bad days. Compared to some of my other relationships, this is actually not that bad.

“Very reassuring.” Holding out his hand, Deeks waited for Kensi to thread her fingers through his. “I should have told you about Monica sooner,” he added.

“Yeah,” Kensi agreed. “But I also understand why you didn’t.” She sighed, her smile a little melancholy. “Exes are hard. Especially when there are kids involved.” She tugged lightly on his hand. “Let me know if you need anything. Talk, yell, cry. I’m here and I promise not to judge.” She nodded. “Well, not too much.”

Deeks chuckled, and shook his head. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she told him, leaning in for a brief kiss. “Good luck with your talk.”

Deeks shut the door behind Kensi, dragging both hands through his hair. He’d been thinking about how to approach this conversation all evening, and still wasn’t settled on what to say. He walked back to the den; Caleb had cleaned up everything, with more care than usual.

“I’m ready to go to bed,” Caleb announced.

“Come here for a minute,” Deeks said, sitting in one of the chairs, and Caleb hung his head, shuffling over reluctantly. He stopped with his still lowered, which just made Deeks want to wrap him up in a big hug. He pulled Caleb onto his lap, settling him on one knee.

“Kensi said you told her you were upset about mom and that’s why you got mad and threw the block. Is that true?”

Caleb shrugged once, and then gave a single jerk of his head, still not looking up. Deeks gently tipped his chin up. The were the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I don’t know.” Another shrug.

“You know you can tell me anything,” Deeks reminded him. Caleb didn’t respond, so he prompted. “Why are you upset about mom coming to visit?”

“Because you always get sad when she does,” Caleb answered, with a hint of sadness and bitterness, which had no place in a five year old’s voice. “I like it when we’re happy. And I like having Kensi here, and I don’t want it to change.”

Deeks blinked at him in shock for a moment as he processed everything Caleb had just revealed. He’d tried to conceal his true feelings about Monica, but apparently he hadn’t been as successful as he thought.

“Hey, first of all, you do not have to worry about how I’m feeling, Caleb. That’s not your job, ok? If you wanna see mom, then that’s what we’re going to do. It doesn’t matter how it makes me feel.” He tapped Caleb’s chin, until he made eye contact again.

“Secondly, mom coming back isn’t going to change anything with Kensi,” he said.

“You promise?” Caleb whispered hopefully.

“Yeah, I do.” He let that sink in for a few seconds. “So, what do you think about mom visiting again while she’s here?”

Caleb considered the question with a tilt of his head. “I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

“That’s fine. It’s always good to think about things before you make a decision,” Deeks said approvingly. As they talked, Caleb had slowly melted into his chest. He could tell he was fading fast.

“Hey, one more thing.” Deeks rested his hand on Caleb’s back. “I know you weren’t feeling like yourself when you threw that toy today at school, but that can’t happen again, ok?”

Caleb nodded into his chest, sniffling a little.

“It’s never ok to hurt people, even when we have really big feelings. If you feel like you did today again, you come talk to me, or Kensi, or another grown up,” he told him.

“Ok. I’m sorry, daddy.”

“I forgive you. We still gotta make it right though, so tomorrow I want you to apologize to your friend, and Kensi.”

“That’s all?” Caleb asked in surprise.

“First time offender,” Deeks joked, hugging Caleb tighter. “It happens again though, there’s gonna be more consequences. Like losing privileges.”

“Ok,” Caleb whispered again, curling his fingers into Deeks’ shirt.

“Love you, kiddo.” Kissing the top of his head, Deeks held him closer. A few minutes more wouldn’t hurt.

***

A/N: And of course, the book referenced in this chapter is the wonderful “Dragons Love Tacos” by Adam Rubin and Daniel Salmieri. It’s been a staple for me ever since Eric read it during one of his story time videos.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #Caleb Deeks #angst #drama #fluff #in Miss Blye’s Class #part 27 #au #ejzah fanfiction

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snffbeebee · 11 months

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Poisoned Apples Chapter 1

A/N - Well here it is Ya'll the first chapter!! Now @ezilyamuzed and I have made a schedule for a new chapter to come out every Sunday...That crazy girl has already written probably the next 2, maybe even 3 chapters, so get ready!!

Warnings - Language and Violence ..... just for now, but in the upcoming chapters PLEASE read the warnings!!!

Word Count - 3,375.

“Yo, we got another one,” you heard a voice state on the other side of your office wall as you were ready to pack up for the night.

“Great,” you sighed as you took off your jacket. Guess it’s another late friday. You walked out to the EMT who was filling out his clipboard as the nurse was getting your new client registered.

“What do we have?” you asked as you walked out.

“Crazy son of a bitch,” he replied. “Fucking insane. Just your type.”

You looked down at the blood that he had on his shirt and pants while he spoke. No cuts on him, so must have been the new client. There was a struggle indeed. Great, one of those nights.

“Does he need medical first?”

“This isn’t his blood,” he replied. He went on to tell a story of how there were multiple bodies found at the scene brutally murdered and him in the midst of it all; silent. It gave you an eerie chill as he described how the cops had to subdue him with tasers so the EMTs could sedate him for transfer.

“And why is he here then?” you gave him a harsh reply. “He should live the rest of his life in jail.”

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “Cops ran his prints. He’s supposedly dead. They figured this would be best for him while they figure out how a dead guy is alive. Keep him sedated and in a nice padded room.”

“This is not a babysitting service,” you rolled your eyes. “This is a hospital for the mentally ill.”

“And killing 4 people with your bare hands isn’t?” He gave you a look that made you want to punch him. Smartass.

“Still sedated?”

“Hell yes.”

“Put him in room 13,” you said with a huff.

You walked back into your office as the nurse crept to the doorway.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“My 3rd shift relief isn’t here yet and I have to get my son…”

“Go home Anne. It’s okay. Security is still here and everyone is asleep. We should be fine until she gets here.”

“But with the new intake…”

“He’s sedated. He will be fine. I’ll do the paperwork,” you gave an assuring smile. “Go tuck in your little one and have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t stay all night,”She gave you a knowing look. Sometimes she was more of a mom than a coworker, but you loved her for it. She knew you would stay until relief came, and even more likely not go home until well after that. This place was practically your home.

She left with a goodbye as she gathered her things. The EMT was walking back with the guy 4-point cuffed to the stretcher, soaked in blood. He was a mess for sure. You followed him to room 13 and got him in safely, putting on your nitrile gloves first to check for anything in his pockets that could be harmful.

The EMT didn’t even hesitate to book it out of there after dropping him off. With a ‘good luck’ he was out quickly. Just you and the mystery man. You look at his still face, he looked handsome under all that grime. You reached into his pockets looking for anything and found a car key for some old chevy and a couple of wadded up dollars. You bagged them, ready to just leave him be until more help came but you felt bad leaving him like that. All the blood, more than likely waking up with that still on him was going to do more harm than good if he wasn’t already completely psychotic.

After retrieving a bucket of water and some cloths, you worked to wipe him down a bit. Starting with his arm you washed off the blood and dirt, moving him down to his hands, careful of the cuffs. You moved over to the next one when a mark caight your eye. You tried to turn his arm over so you could see, but the cuff was making it difficult. You looked at his peaceful face once more and made the decision to take off the cuff to see. It was an odd red mark that looked like a seven with two lines near it. After making a mental note, you moved to his face. The water revealed freckles along his nose and a little scar on his chin. He was very handsome underneath it all as you continued to try and get the blood out of his hair.

You had gotten distracted in your task that you almost didn’t catch the piercing green eyes snap open to you, stabbing you in your soul. You didn’t even have a chance to breathe in before his hand was around your throat. As he squeezed you felt the sheer panic inside of you overtake your body as he gave you a look that could only be described as murderous as his eyes hit yours like little diggers. He began to blink rapidly, like he was awaking from a dream.

“Where am I?” his grip grew softer for you to choke out ‘St.Stan’s hospital’.

He looked you up and down before he dropped his hand. He undid his cuffs as you bent over trying to catch your breath threw the choking.

“Why am I here?”

“EMT brought you,” you replied, backing away from him slowly as you rubbed your neck. “You murdered 4 people when they found you.”

“I what?” he furrowed his glare to you.

“That’s what they said,” you replied in defense, not wanting to make him angry.

“Cops around?”

“Not now, but I’m sure they were.”

“Time to go then,” he replied as he got up from his spot.

“You can’t just leave,” you blurted out.

“Who’s going to stop me?” He gave you a hard glare. You didn’t respond, but stood emotionless, hoping that your words didn’t put you into more harm. “That’s what I thought.”

He opened the door and peered out, he shut the door rather quickly and quietly for someone attempting to escape.

“Shit,” he breathed out.

“What?”

“5-0,” he replied before looking back at you. “You.”

“Me what?”

“You need to go out there and get them away from here.”

“How am I supposed to-“

“Figure it out,” he snapped at you.

You nodded as you walked out, throwing your gloves away in the garbage can outside the room. As you walked down the hall you wondered what would happen if you did just give him over. He killed four people. Could the police take him down?

“Officer Tony,” you smiled as you got to the reception desk.

“Doctor,” Officer Tony replied firmly. He was a frequent visitor for cases, more often to shamelessly flirt for a while while you turned him down each and every time. Typically he would call you by your real name and then attempt to ask you out. He didn’t this time. He was oddly still and serious.Unlike him. “I’m doing a follow up on a guy they brought in.”

“The resurrected dead guy?”

“That’s the one.”

“He’s still sedated,” you responded after noticing Tony was all alone which was something else unusual. Where was his partner Jake?

“So we need 24/7 watch on time while they do their investigation and eventually they will move him to a more secure facility. We need you to check his mental competency for trial, so we won’t get any of that bullshit insanity pleas.”

“Is there even proof he did it?” you found yourself asking.

“He was found in the middle of it.”

“What if it was self defense?”

“Unlikely,” he scuffed at you. “Bastard is going to fry.”

“I thought it was innocent until proven guilty ?” you snarked back. He didn’t really flinch at that, but stared you down like he was the boss. Very annoying.

“Anyways,” he changed the subject, obviously annoyed by you as well. “We need all your reports of course when you start with him.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “If he signs a release of information.”

“Excuse me?”

“He is a patient in my care now,” you harped back. “Legally I don’t have to tell you shit about him.”

“You’re going to make this hard on me?”

“I’m just doing my job the right way, Officer,” you posed with a fake smile. “At least one of us should.”

“I’ll be back with a warrant,” he replied with a scowl before leaving. You waited a moment before going back to the mysterious man. If he really was a danger, you couldn’t just let him go back out and hurt people. You had no idea what you were doing, but your gut told you there was something more to all of this.

“Good job,” he stated as you returned. “Pissing off the local boys is always a favorite behavior of mine.”

“Why shouldn’t I call security right now?” you blurted out. “You’ve already attacked and threatened me. Why shouldn’t I even call that cop back in? Give me a reason.”

“Because you and a lot of people here will die if you do,” he responded coldly.

“Is that another threat?”

“Prediction,” he stated as he shook his head. “Now I need your help to get me out of here.”

“No.”

“No?” he looked back to you with a smirk. “Oh I wasn’t asking sweetheart.”

He grabbed at your arm and pulled you to follow him. You struggled against him but then felt something pointing into your back. It felt sharp as you tensed up.

“How did you get a knife?” you asked.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he said as you felt the pressure pushing into you again. “Now I want you to walk like everything is normal, get your stuff, and we are leaving in your vehicle. One wrong move and you will regret it.”

You did as you were told, walking as calmly as you could back to your office. You grabbed your bag and phone. He took them from you, slipped the phone into his pocket, and pulled out your ID from your wallet in your purse.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he read aloud. “ I now know your name, birthday, and address. If you do something stupid, don’t think I won’t come find you.”

“How do you expect to get pass security?”

He looked down at himself and noticed the blood soaked clothes.

“Where’s your property room?”

“We don’t have-“

“Bullshit,” he spat. “All these places have one to lock up the loonies things. Where is it?”

“Next to security,” you stated.

“Well, isn’t that fun?” he smirked.

He pushed you along the hallway, you attempting to give directions as you approached security. There was one of the three guards on duty in there and he was busy watching videos on his phone. You pointed to the property room and he grabbed the keys from your clip on your waist, putting them in your hands. After unlocking it, you found yourself alone in a dark room with this psychopath until he found the light switch.

“Jackpot,” he stated as he grabbed jeans and a shirt. He tore off his clothing that he had on, leaving him in just his boxers for you to see as he got himself dressed. You had turned your head away for a moment, but he made made the comment about you being a stuck up prude that caused you to look back.

“The other guards are doing rounds,” you stated.

“We better hurry then,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket and tucked it in his arm. “And remember-“

“Yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “Don't try anything.”

As you walked out the guard, Bob, with his phone playing some comedy skit noticed you.

“Late night Dr. Y/N?” he smiled.

“Yes,” you smiled back as you signed yourself out of the clipboard.

“And who is this?” he looked over to the mystery man.”

“My intern,” you blurted out and then calmly smiled. “He doesn’t have his badge or keys yet.”

“Well sign out,” Bob said looking at the man with a suspicious look.

You watched as he signed himself out. Name Jonathan Cash. An alias? More than likely. You said your goodbye and went directly outside of the building after he buzzed the two of you out. You knew that if he did his job it would only be within 5 minutes or so that he noticed that Jonathan Cash never signed in.

“Which car is yours?” you felt the sharp pressure on your back again.

“The ‘70 camaro,” you replied.

“Really?” he sounded surprised. “I would have thought a prius or minivan.”

As you approached the car he directed you to get in the driver's seat and drive normally. You did as directed as he started to go through everything he could within your car.

“Old water bottles, hairbrush, packs of gum,” he said as he started to toss around things. “Change of clothes.”

He stopped when he saw the underpants and picked them up with a smirk and a wink to you, but put them back away.

“Where am I going?”

“You’re place,” he responded. “Need to lay low and refocus.”

“Well Jonathan, if that is your name,” you stated as you looked behind you in the mirror . “I think we’re being followed.”

He turned his head back and watched a newer Ford Queen Victoria staying far enough back to not be too close, but still close enough to not lose you.

“How far is this place of yours?” he asked.

“Two more blocks,” you replied.

“You have salt?”

“What?” you gave him a funny look.

“Salt, iron, any type of weapons there?”

“You’re insane,” you continued to furry your brows

to him.

“Probably,” he stated as he adjusted himself back into the seat and started looking through your stuff again. “But just as a quick rundown precaution, demons are after me. They are dicks that are hard to kill without the right weapons, but you can make them hurt a lot. Listen to me and I’ll keep you alive.”

“Demons?” you snarked as you turned into your street. “Are you on something?”

“Sober,” he replied nonchalantly. “Well mostly now.”

You pulled into the driveway of your townhouse. It was simple enough for just you since all your family were all pretty much gone or states away. He looked behind him again and saw the car parked along the side of the road a few houses down with its lights off.

“Inside,” he stated firmly.

You got out of the car and went inside. He directed you to sit on the couch while he checked around. While he was out of your sight, you stealthily retrieved the glock you had in your desk drawer. When he came back you aimed it right for him.

“Whoa,” he held up his hands. “Don’t shoot me! I’m not the enemy here.”

“Bullshit,” you blurted. “Now get down on the floor.”

“You don’t want to pull that trigger,” he showed you the mark on his arm. “You do that and things will only get worse for you.”

“Toss my phone on the couch and get down,” you commanded again. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Okay, okay,” he replied as he retrieved the phone and tossed it, getting down to the floor with his hands still up. Before he was fully down on the floor all of the sudden your front door was kicked in, Tony the cop now entering with a friend behind. His eyes weren’t his eyes. They were black as night. They charged in towards you, the mystery guy jumping up in return to attack. As Tony attacked your capturer the other one pulled out a long silver, almost dagger like weapon. He was coming right at you. You put two slugs into him and he continued like nothing happened. You emptied the clip

into him but he managed to keep moving, now right in front of you reaching for you. You attempted

to flea, but he grabbed you from behind, pinning your arms down with his as you flayed your legs to escape. He was strong. Too strong. You finally stopped fighting when you felt the cold steel along your throat.

“Give it up Winchester or she dies,” your aggressor stated.

You caught a glimpse of the fight between the cop and your patient. It was brutal and bloody as your patient stabbed Tony in the chest with a similar looking blade. He got up with a murderous look. You weren’t sure who to be more scared of in the moment, but your gut told you that this Winchester guy was going to win.

“Let her go,” he warned. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Crowley wants you. You can come peacefully or her blood can be on your hands,” he pushed the blade closer to your neck, cutting it just enough that you felt blood drip.

In a swift motion Winchester threw the blade and it went right past your head into the skull of your aggressor. His blade cut a little deeper as he fell down and you stumbled forward as his grip fell.

You grabbed at your neck and looked at your hand that now had blood on it. Winchester got down on his knees and examined you, asking if you were alright.

“No!” you yelled as you pushed him away and got up. “What the hell were those guys?”

“Demons,” he replied. “I told you.”

“Demons aren’t real!” you screamed as you went and grabbed a towel from your kitchen to hold against the wound on your neck.

“They are,” he snapped back in annoyance. “You saw their eyes and the fact that you emptied the chamber in that guy and he didn’t drop dead.”

“This is so fucked up,” you breathed out, not knowing what to think.

“Welcome to my life,” he laughed. “And more will be coming. We got to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Fine, you explain the dead cop and the guy you shot 15 times to the authorities,” he snapped back. “That is if more demons don’t get here first.”

You took a deep breath as you looked around. Fucker was right. How could you even possibly explain this and the gun had your fingerprints all over it. Not only that, but whatever happened to those guys, demonic possession or not, there was no way you could defend yourself alone. This was one of those no win situations that you had to make a decision about quickly.

He was already picking up the weapons and rummaging through their pockets, taking out any cash he found. You picked up the gun that was on the floor next to him. He looked over at you with a cocked up brow.

“Where do we even go?” you asked.

“Anywhere,” he replied with solemnness to his voice, almost as if he felt bad about the situation that you were now in. “Grab a bunch of clothes and anything you care about. I’m going to grab what I can from your kitchen to get us by for now, but tomorrow, we need you to empty out any accounts you have because you will never be able to go back to this life again.”

You nodded that you understood as you moved to go upstairs to your bedroom. Once there, the tears rolled out as you grabbed as much of your stuff you could fit into your suitcase and book bag. after changing into non bloody comfy clothes. The only real personal thing that you took with you was a photobook, to at least remember the life you once had.

“Ready?” he stated as you descended down the stairs.

You nodded as you looked back at your home that was now a crime scene. Another tear rolled out as you walked a little slower to the door.

“It’s just stuff,” he said as he opened up the door for you.

You glared at him hard as you walked past him, hissing ‘fuck you’ as you walked out and towards the car.

“Well this is going to be fun,” he snakred as he shut the door not only to your house, but your life.

The Angels & Demons - @ezilyamuzed @daughterofthenight117 @redlipstickandthewinchesters @chocolateheart @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog@ain-t-bovvered @ladysparkles78@waywardbaby@nanie5 @ladywinchesterslibrary @candy-coated-misery0731 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @@leigh70 @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @hobby27 @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @sonotalice @krazykelly @drakelover78 @19agbrown @pisces-cutie @aloneanddesperate-blog @midnightsilver @dean-winchesters-bacon @waywardnerd67 @bobasheebaby

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spnfamily #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #moc dean

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luninosity · 6 months

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Lots of news, including this year’s JMS Books Advent Calendar, and more! (My Advent Calendar free story will be available December 20 – but more on that soon…) But for today, a happy bit of news – Apprentice’s Luck, the new novel in the Middle Lands (the world of Magician), is now out in paperback!

It’s high fantasy m/m romance, set ~150 years before Magician (you might recognize a name or two – no one knows where Lorre is, at the moment!), so it’s got all new main characters; it’ll stand alone fine if you’ve not read the others. And it’s about Talis, an apprentice magician who doesn’t think he’s very good at magic, and Jer, a royal guardsman who thinks he’s overheard a threat to the King…but no one else believes him…but perhaps a magician can help…

And of course there’s falling for each other along the way. And tea. And Talis having a lot of emotions while watching Jer be quietly competent at weapons training. And opera-related jokes.

Jer and Talis have honestly become some of my favorite characters (I might have to write one more story for them…) so I hope you like them too!

JMS Books print edition here!

JMS Books ebook here!

Amazon here! Also at Barnes & Noble, etc!

#original fic #k.l. noone #my fic #fantasy #romance #gay romance #gay fantasy #lgbtq #m/m romance #m/m fiction #jms books

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princess-ibri · 1 year

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Disney Rumpelstiltskin Part 3

(Thanks for your patience! Sorry it took so darn long, I got stuck on the ending, and didn't want to give up until I had figured it out. Its still a bit rough, it started to get rather complex with my larger DisneyVerse creeping in, but I hope it satisfies! )

So the Imp has come back to make good on Corinne’s last, unsettled payment she owns him, and of course he drops the bomb that he wants her baby daughter, which Corinne of course is not in anyway cool about.

It’s at this point that he reveals that all the other things he had her give up where tests to see just how far she was willing to go, giving up her mother’s treasured necklace, Henri’s ring, symbols of Love being more important then power and prestige. He’d had an eye on her for a while, and these tests were to see if she has the potential in her for for Dark Sorceress material and surprise —She totally does!

And she can’t really get on in moving up the Dark Sorceress ladder if she has a baby holding her back, so if she’ll just dump the kid for him to dispose of then she can come with him and get on with growing her dark magical powers, maybe even eventually elevating herself to the throne—

At which point Corinne cuts him off and declares she doesn’t want that at all! She just wants to live peacefully with Henri and their baby, she’s happy with the luck she’s had and doesn’t want more power, doesn’t want to be like the people she’s seen in Dior’s court, constantly scheming and backstabbing and never being actually happy.

The Imp’s face falls, golden eyes flashing with disappointment—and anger. Fine, if that’s how she feels, then she doesn’t have to join him in creating magical chaos. He’ll just keep to the original deal and take the baby, and she can stay and be happy with her boring human husband. They can always have another brat anyway right? If Henri still wants her after finding out she tradded their child to get where she is. She really should have read the fine print on that first bargin the made. But the Imp considers himself a merciful being, he’ll give her three days to think it over and change her mind

Left alone and horrified at the realization of all she has to lose, her family, her humanity, Corinne comes to a decision—to tell her Henri the truth and hope he can forgive her and help her save their child, for the baby’s sake if not for hers if he finds he can’t love her anymore.

But of course he can, he’s always been the best of the people in the court, and he’s not about to lose his beloved wife and child without a fight. The Imp said she had magic, powerful magic of her own. Couldn’t they use that magic to find a way to stop him?

And Corinne starts to feel hope. There's something in that. She might not be powerful enough to go toe to toe with the Imp, but if she could find a way to go around him? Find a weakness of his? She clutches a handful of star, the thing that had started this all off, and summons the magic to her, focusing on what the Imp had taught her into bringing it to the surface. A ball of gold begins to form, a string coming loose and shooting out the door, slithering off into the darkness. Hesitanting only as long as it takes to grab a weapon, the couple join hands and race after it, two Theseus's pursuing the Minator into the labyrinth...

They find their way to strange tumbled down structure in the middle of the forest. It looks abandoned enough, but both know looks can be decieving. They cautiously enter the ruin-- but not cautiously enough it seems. A dizzing burst of light explodes around them, and when they can see again, the Imp sits before them, chuckling darkly.

"What, did you expect to sneak up and find me dancing around the fire singing my True Name? "

Instantly the two find themselves bound by the very thread they'd followed, as the Imp continues to gloat and heckle them. Rage builds up inside Corinne, the same anger she's felt from feeling the neglect of her father, the contempt of the village and Dior and his court. And with the rage comes an idea. What had the Imp said about dancing about and...

"I want to make a new Deal" Corinne says sharply, cutting off the Imp mid taunt.

"Oh? And what is it you could possibly offer me now Dearie? Ready to join me and leave the little people and their little minds behind after all are you?"

"No, I still want to stay with Henri and my baby"

"Then I'm afraid you've nothing I want"

"I think I do..." Corinne whispers, taking hold of the thread of gold that binds her, the thread she herself had conjoured, meant to lead her to find a way to undo this creatures hold on her.

"I'm offering you my Magic"

The Imp's eyes blaze, despite his effort to appear as calm and unruffled as usual, and Corinne can see she's struck gold. "You said I've the potential for great power. I'm offering you that in exchange for leaving me and my husband and child in peace together, free from any harm or machinations you or yours might try. If you promise to leave us be, you may take my magic for yourself"

She twists the cord in her hand, and it shifts into a shining contract and quill, ready to be signed.

"Sign here, and all that potential, all that power is yours"

The Imp hesitates only a moment, greed winning out over caution, seeming not to notice the golden tendrils that flicker along the edges of the quill and contract and loop back into the coil still holding Henri trapped. With a grin of wicked glee he signs the contract with a flourish--

There's a crackle like lightning in the air, and now it's Corinne's turn to smile as the tendrils linking the quill and contract she'd conjured shine with power, looping around herself and the Imp and Henri--and the iron dagger Henri holds in his hand, the dagger that now bears the True Name of the Imp, "Rumplestiltskin"

"A little something for insurance" Corinne says, smirking at the wide eyed Rumplestiltskin. "Iron cannot be touched by the Fay, and so this name can never be erased. If you ever try to break this contract, or if you ever try to touch me, my husband or child again, this dagger will be your undoing. You really should have read the fine print"

For a moment there's an unbearable tension, and then Rumplestiltskin laughs, darkly, wildly. "Oh well played Dearie, well played. Well far be it from me to break the bounds of a contract. I'll be on my way then, but remember--all magic comes with a price. You've paid for our original contract with yours, but you've made a powerful enemy as well. I may not be able to harm you three, but I hope you don't plan on having any other children anytime soon. Enjoy your Happily Ever After while it lasts..."

And then with another flash, he's gone.

And they do enjoy it. They raise their daughter and begin to grow old together, and while there is some sadness that they can not risk having another child, they find that their daughter Regine is enough for them. And for several years all is well.

What happens after that is another story...

Background Bonus Stuff:

Why does Rumplestiltskin deal in babies in the DisneyVerse? Well, long ago a prophecy was made that a Child born of Common Blood raised Royal would be the undoing of the Demon Queen and all her ilk, from whom Rumplestiltskin was of the lineage. He and his family took this to mean a child born from a commoner and a royal. So anytime there's such a child one of them pops up to try and prevent the child from reaching their full potential, influencing events either directly or from the shadows.

Rumplestiltskin prefers corruption over destruction, and turns the children he takes into people unfit to combat the forces of evil, if he cannot turn them fully. All information our couple could have learned if they'd bothered to ask the young woman he'd delivered to be Dior's wife...

(A certain magic mirror that holds the soul of Rumplestiltskin's father tried to help a vain queen destroy a beautiful dark haired princess several centuries ago, and will pop up again to give two sisters in a frozen kingdom some trouble in a few centuries to come. )

Part 1 Part 2

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smgsecretsanta · 3 months

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A gift from @bazwillendinflames to @insertlovelyperson

Text under the cut

Dylan had never been a morning person until camp, where he had found a new routine: getting up early for morning announcements, sitting in the radio hut with watery coffee. His first impression of his new workplace had been low, the room was rundown and dusty, the roof creaked and groaned under the elements, which still took him by surprise every time. But he had fixed up the hut over the summer. Most importantly, it was the only place where Dylan could be alone to unwind.

Dylan hadn’t been expecting how much energy it took to reimagine yourself as someone funny, charismatic and, he could only hope, cool. He had come to camp with a plan to use his last summer before college for a trial run of the new Dylan.

Dylan had been hoping for a little fun, just like when he had come to Hackett’s Quarry as a kid. But he hadn’t expected to make so many new friends, even if it felt a little hollow with them liking the new Dylan.

He loved hanging out with them, laughing at Nick’s offbeat sense of humour, poking fun at Jacob’s earnestness and pretending not to be intimidated by Kaitlyn’s effortless coolness. Even the counsellors he was less close to were becoming his friends. Abi’s shyness was fading as the weeks went on and he was starting to like Emma’s dramatic flair.

Then there was Ryan, who Dylan put in his own special category. Whilst the rest of them had become close, Ryan remained reclusive. It only made Dylan more drawn to him. He had made an effort to talk to Ryan as much as he could without coming off as obsessed (Kaitlyn’s words, complete with a knowing smirk) but the other counsellor still remained a mystery.

Although sometimes… sometimes Ryan would laugh at one of Dylan’s jokes, or add a dry comment. He was good with the kids, helping them through homesickness. It was an unexpected sweet side to him, and it only made Dylan pine harder.

Kaitlyn made fun of him for it, even if she agreed Ryan was hot.

“Good luck,” she had said with a snort, “I’ve been hitting on him the last two summers and he never flirts back.”

Dylan had grinned at her. “Maybe he’s more into guys.”

“I think he’s bi,” Kaitlyn had said, wiggling her eyebrows, “so it’s fair game.”

She had been joking, but it had sparked a hope in Dylan that he couldn’t ignore. His crush snowballed.

So did Kaitlyn’s teasing, which was why Dylan was glad to be alone when he read their chore rota. His and Ryan’s names were printed together under ‘general maintenance.’ An otherwise boring chore was suddenly all he could think about.

Daydreams of exactly how it would go distracted him all morning. Dylan’s main job was the radio hut but Mr H didn’t think that kept him busy enough, so he usually found a stack of admin to do on the desk. He’d learnt the camp was running out of money, two counsellors never

showed up and that Jacob’s middle name was Archibald. But none of his usual tasks kept his mind off Ryan, so Dylan announced lunch ten minutes early and headed to the hall.

It was empty for once, probably because he was early, only Nick banging around the kitchen. Dylan poked his head in. “Hey.”

Nick didn’t look up from the giant pot of mac and cheese he was stirring. “You good man? You’re never on time.”

“Lies,” Dylan replied, even if it was true. He leaned against the counter. “Hey, want to guess Jacob’s middle name?”

“Kind of busy,” Nick replied.

Dylan spent the rest of lunch distracted, a little embarrassed at how his attention kept drifting to Ryan at the other end of the table. He tapped his fingers on the table, full of restless energy.

Kaitlyn put her hand on top of his. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Dylan replied.

“What’s up?” Kaitlyn pushed, clearly seeing through him.

“Nothing.”

Despite his best efforts to be casual, his eyes darted to Ryan once again. This time Kaitlyn noticed.

“You’re down bad,” she teased.

“Shut up.”

That only made Kaitlyn grin more, which didn’t disappear for the rest of lunch. She shot him a wink as they parted ways for the afternoon. Dylan made a point of ignoring her, although he did fuss with his hair once her back was turned.

Ryan was talking to Mr H’s kids, although they sulked away once he approached. They practically made Ryan look as extroverted as Emma. Dylan figured they must be homeschooled.

“Those guys never let you get a word in, huh?” Dylan joked.

Ryan shrugged. “You have to get to know them.”

Given that they had just bolted at the sight of him, Dylan wasn’t so sure. But if they were Ryan’s friends, it was probably best not to push it. He didn’t want to piss Ryan off.

“So, I have to go make a couple of quick announcements and then I’m all yours.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

Dylan hoped his face wasn’t too red. “If you’re lucky,” he replied.

It was better to double down on the accidental flirting than to shy away from it like the old Dylan would have. The old Dylan went to prom alone.

“Can I come with?” Ryan asked.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” Dylan said, savouring the brief quirk of a smile he got in return.

Ryan followed him out, hands tucked in his pockets. “It’s cool the radio hut is open again. It was fun as a kid.”

“You were a camper here too?” Dylan asked.

He wondered if Ryan had put together the dorky kid from cabin four to him. But he didn’t remember seeing Ryan either, and the camp used to be busier, so maybe their paths had simply never crossed. Dylan was oddly disappointed at the idea of it.

He shook his head. “Not officially but Chris is a family friend and my Mom was always… too busy to take care of me over breaks.”

“You must really like it here to keep coming back.”

“Yeah. There’s good memories here, no matter how much pot washing I did to earn my keep,” Ryan said.

They had reached the radio hut but Dylan considered looping around camp again to keep the conversation going. It was the first time Ryan had opened up to him. But Dylan didn’t get so lucky - they reached the door and Ryan stopped, looking at him expectantly. Dylan opened the door and they stepped inside.

Ryan started poking at the shelves. “I guess all the vinyls are Chris’?”

“He thought I might want some of his music,” Dylan explored. “But I think he just wanted to keep his shit here. It was basically a storage shed when I moved in.”

“Not a Billy Joel guy?” Ryan asked.

“That’s dad music,” Dylan replied.

Ryan didn’t reply, back to browsing. Dylan left him to it as he flicked through the loose papers on the desk for the announcements. The paper was under the schedule and Dylan felt his face heat up. He hoped Ryan hadn’t noticed how he had underlined their names like a middle schooler.

Dylan reached for the speaker. “Good afternoon campers. This afternoon cabins one, three and five will be doing some drama exercises with the lovely Emma, so brush off your acting skills. That leaves cabins two and four in the care of Kaitlyn and Jacob for some archery sessions. Remember to point it away from you. Chef Nicholas will have dinner ready at six, so save your appetites!”

Dylan put down the speakerphone and swirled in his chair to find Ryan watching him.

“Enjoy the show?”

“You’re a real poet,” Ryan replied dryly. “Ready? The drains won’t clean themselves.”

Dylan pulled a face. “That’s what maintenance is? That sucks.”

“I’ll get you some gloves.”

He got out his chair. “Hey, there’s no one I’d rather clean drains with.”

Ryan rolled his eyes but Dylan hadn’t been kidding. Kaitlyn was right - he was down bad.

“So, did you do a lot of this as a kid? Or was it all just dishwashing?”

“Just dishes,” Ryan said after a moment of consideration, “Chris let me do the activities too. He was good to us.” “Us?”

“My sister used to come too. But Sarah’s fourteen now so she thinks she’s too cool for summer camp.” There was a fondness in his voice that Dylan hadn’t seen from Ryan all summer. “Little sisters.”

“I won’t know. I’m an only child.”

“That tracks,” Ryan said.

Dylan wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He’d ask Kaitlyn later, he trusted her opinion.

“What’s she like?” Dylan asked. “A mini Ryan?”

“She’s in her Hot Topic and video games phase.”

“So, yes?” Dylan teased.

Ryan laughed and he wanted to play the sound on loop. “Hey, rude.”

“Nothing wrong with it. I like your style.”

Ryan looked down at his outfit - all black under a faded flannel shirt with the arms cut off. It was an effortlessly cool look that served as a reminder Dylan was trying too hard. He’d stocked up on band shirts and ripped jeans but never quiet felt confident in them. At least he was a good actor.

“Thanks.” Ryan looked away, almost shy. The idea made Dylan smile to himself. “Anyway, we’ve got a job to do.”

“Lucky us,” Dylan grumbled, pulling on gloves.

It turned out that cleaning drains was not as romantic as he’d hoped. Even with Ryan’s company, scraping wet leaves from a gutter was not his idea of fun. Nor did it provide much opportunity for conversation. Ryan had retreated back into himself, pulling headphones from somewhere.

Still Dylan was content. He had gotten Ryan to open up a little. He made him laugh. It was a good first step. Maybe they could be friends - there was still half the summer left.

Maybe, if Dylan was lucky, they could be more.

#smg secret santa #supermassive games #the quarry #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #rylan

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dameronscopilot · 2 years

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Omg happy sleepover can i request the fair with the triple frontier boys 😭😭😭 pleeeeease

I don't think words can express how excited we were to write this one, anon.

A night at the fair with the Triple Frontier boys

By @dameronscopilot:

Picture this—it’s a balmy evening in late September, and your four favourite boys just arrived to pick you up for a night out at the local fair.

Benny - One night when you’re out for dinner with the boys, you eagerly point out a flyer advertising the annual town fair. Everyone collectively groans—besides Benny. He subtly tears the paper off the wall and stuffs it into his back pocket. And when the week of the fair finally comes around, he surprises you by remembering that you wanted to go, and he drags the rest of the boys along (whether they like it or not).

When nobody else wants to do the silly “old time” photos, Benny obliges your request, grinning from ear to ear when he waltzes out dressed as a cowboy. He also disappears near the end of the night and returns with a ridiculous air-brushed t-shirt that says “Miller’s Good Luck Charm” with a pair of gloves beneath it. (You bet Frankie $20 he won’t wear it to Benny’s next match.) (He does.)

Frankie - After Benny blows nearly $100 trying to win you a stuffed animal from the water gun shootout game, Frankie quietly slips away and makes his way over to the game. With his pockets only $10 lighter ("That was my Fuck You money, Ben," he slyly remarks), he returns with an armful of prizes—most of which you insist he hand out to the small crowd of children now swarming around him—and a small smile on his face. (He gives Benny a ridiculous, sparkly, pink bear as a consolation prize.) And when you eventually make your way over to try your hand at the baseball toss game, he casually puts his hat on your head and coaches you through your throws.

Santiago - Santi spends the ride over to the fair browsing the website, and he’s intrigued when he comes across a flashy graphic claiming that you could “WIN $1000 DOLLARS!” He quickly enters all of you in the contest without consulting anyone else in the car. Unfortunately, when your names are called over to the main stage at the fair midway into the evening, Santiago is horrified to realize that he didn’t read the fine print—the contest is a team-based obstacle course. (Frankie talks his way out of it by claiming his stomach didn’t love the questionable chilli cheese dog he ate, Will and Benny nearly win the whole thing but are somehow bested by a pair of teenagers, and you end up sprawled on top of Santi in top of a pit of foam blocks, crying laughing as he groans about his knees.)

Will - The fair is bustling with people, and you’re disappointed when the crowd prevents you from finding a decent place to watch the fireworks at the end of the night. While the other boys begin to debate an increasingly ridiculous series of military-esque tactics to dodge and weave your way to the front, Will rolls his eyes at them and takes your hand, beckoning for you to follow him. As you make your way to the top of the Ferris wheel for what’s arguably the perfect view, you squint your eyes as Will points out the three tiny dots still animatedly arguing on the ground.

By @dieterbravospr:

Benny - Benny Miller has one goal at the fair: Win you the biggest stuffed animal there. He sets his sights on a massive otter hanging from the poles of the dart game’s tent and he’s found his match for the night. Except, he’s Benny Miller, so it doesn’t take long. The eye of a sharpshooter and the coordination of a fighter comes in handy as the popping of balloon after balloon fills the air, each dart hitting its mark with ease. Bonus: he carries it around for you all night as you sample the various fair foods and candies without so much as a groan.

Frankie - Of course he agreed to go, he always agreed to anything you asked because it made you happy, but you knew deep down he’d rather have spent the night in on the couch with you curled up on his chest watching a movie he wouldn’t pay attention to because he was too busy stealing glances down at you. He doesn’t like crowds, they make him feel trapped, uneasy, his eyes constantly darting to search for threats in the small town you called home. He always needs to be touching you, whether it be a shoulder nudging against you, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, or his hand entwined with yours, and you’re happy to provide the solace. When you get stuck on the top of the Ferris wheel it’s his turn to relay the favor, his soft, soothing voice breaking through your heart pounding in your ear as you rely on him to be your eyes until you're closer to the ground. A strong arm holds you tight as lips press to your hair, his hand guiding you out of the little car to the sturdy ground. Next is a stop for a candy apple for you and a beer for him before you make your way over to the other waiting at the water gun game he ensures you win three times over via sabotage and lighthearted threats to his three friends.

Santiago - It’s Santi vs. Benny as they cue up at the ring toss game, the prize being your affection and the stupid little stuffed monkey you want. Santi talks a big game, but Benny smokes him, handing you that dumb little primate with a cocky grin. While he may be disgruntled, he’s not giving up just yet, finding you the lemonade and apple fritters you’d been blabbing about for days, your eyes lighting up as he approached with your favorite snacks. When your hand slides into his he can’t help but shoot a victorious smirk at his adversary, the game once again beginning when you bolted to Benny’s side after an invite to that death trap of a ride his neck surely wouldn’t survive.

Will - The long-suffering elder Miller rolls his eyes at the bickering between Santi and Benny, most of his night spent standing off to the side with Frankie as they kept a watchful eye on the crowds. After your beer goes spilling down your shirt as a result of a careless shoulder check from a definitely drunk passerby, he has to fight the urge to grab the man by the collar and toss him to the side. He focused on you, quickly unbuttoning his overshirt and tossing it around your shoulders as you fretted over your decision to wear white to a fair, your eyes sweetly thanking him before grabbing Santiago as he went to chase down the unfortunate soul who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Join the sleepover extravaganza!

#sleepover weekend #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #benny miller #frankie morales #francisco morales #ben miller #will miller #william miller #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #ben miller x reader #benny miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #will miller x reader

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nobodysdaydreams · 3 months

Text

Okay, now they REALLY gotta drop the Jacobi duck-related lore 🦆 (and I need to stop holding out hope Blessie will return 😔💔)

(Or my reaction to Wolf359’s Mission Mishap Episodes).

Welcome back dear readers! My schedule has been busy lately, but the Mission Mishap episodes were mercifully short, so I’ve been listening to a few episodes per week and have gathered my reactions here for you all to enjoy.

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom

Also tagging @lovelyladylavie because I promised I’d tag you way back on this post and forgot (I’m so sorry!) but my reactions are all under the tag so you should be able to find them!

Mission Mishaps: A Little Night Music

"Not fully reading your contract before you sign it...not understanding your job responsibilities, and wanting commander off your back" I love Doug's sponsorships and the dramatic irony 😂 *Cue The Fine Print playing in the background...*

I guess the only actor they could get was Doug. Nice of him to fill us in on what Minkowski and Hera are saying though.

OH MY GOSH.

HIS VOICE.

DR. DR. PROFESSOR DR. PROFESSOR F. EIFFEL 😂

It's so fancy. Mannnyyyy PhDs. Very impressive, Doug.

I'm so happy we got more radio show Doug. I need to hear him do a radio show where all his personalities talk to each other. Being the special guest on the show is Cutter's punishment for all eternity. The Dear Listeners make 5 copies of Doug so he can be all the characters.

"The feeling you'll die miserably..." yikes, broke character for a second there Doug.

"Ah yes...the way the piano notes dance around the...other piano notes...absolutely fantastic piece for when you want to start your day with the paino-y energy" Well said Doug.

Oh boy. Cowboy music. Is this the return of Badass McAwesome? Do I dare to hope?

Ah, well, better luck next time.

His poor toe. I hate when that happens too, Doug.

The...mind eraser?

Don't like how that sounds. Especially after the threats in "Change of Mind".

Better not be foreshadowing.

"This song is a mutant, it's superpower is being catchy. It never leaves."

Okay, THAT better not be foreshadowing.

"Afraid of the plant monster?" I wish we could be, Doug. I wish we could be. 😔🪴

"Worried you'll never get back to Earth to see you're family?" Oh, Doug. 💔

"Bosses you're pretty sure are kind of evil" Kind of is generous Doug.

Yeah...yeah Doug that got very dark there for a bit.

Moral boosting? Oh dear. MUTE 😂 AFTER TWO MINUTES 😂

I love Doug. Poor fellow. I enjoyed the broadcast Doug. They don't appreciate your talents.

Mission Mishaps: The Space You’re In

I love the title’s double meaning.

More of Doug dodging his work I see. A common theme.

“Please stop going off on tangents” I guess Cutter and Pryce didn’t send them up with any ADHD meds. “I’m here for work 😊” Nice cover, Doug. 👍🏻 nailed it.

“I’m gonna get that thing that I forgot”. You do that Doug.

How did I know Doug was gonna break something? 🤣

Specimen incubation period??? BLESSIE????

How dare they tease us with Blessie lore?

Good question Doug. Why IS there a harpoon?

Doug literally has no where to hide. 🤣

Oh right. Space. Why do I see that backfiring?

PFFTTT—- Did she just call him a lizard? 🦎

“It’s beautiful” -> “I hate space” poor Doug. I’m sensing a pattern 🤣

Mission Mishaps: You Want, I Solve Ah Doug stealing coffee from Minkowski. Once again, I sense a pattern.

Wait. A puppy? 🥰🐕‍🦺🐾

“The mean lady who runs this place” really Doug? You did just steal her coffee.

2 tails? Well, twice the wagging, I see that as a win. 🥰

Follow him Doug!

IS ZACH VALENTI DOING THE VOICE OF THE DOG?

AS SMEGOL AND GOLLUM FROM LORD OF THE RINGS?

AND IS DOUG HALLUCINATING FROM THE COFFEE???

The dogs are multiplying? David Bowie is here? Okay Doug is hallucinating for sure.

Ah hello Hilbert.

Why is he treating the manual like it’s the ring? 🤣

Well. That was weird.

Oh, Hilbert. All to get Doug to bond with the manual.

And yet something tells me he still won’t read it. It does sound like he might be cuddling with it at night and killing anyone who tries to take it from him though. Mildly concerning. Mission Mishaps: The Veldt Oh my gosh. The episode description. Eiffel goes into the greenhouse… y’all. I don’t wanna get my hopes up, but…

IS THIS BLESSIE CONTENT???? 🪴

I’m so excited guys. I don’t wanna get my hopes up, I know I shouldn’t, but I need Blessie back!

So Doug is doing his chores again. I sense a pattern.

He does a great Australian accent. Again, I need the aliens to clone Doug just so he can have a show where his different personalities talk to each other. Hm. Oxygen chamber has a lot of passwords. And a lot of weird ways to enter passwords. Which is nice for protecting the air, but not so great when you, you know, desperately need air and only have a few seconds to enter the password.

The binary forms of color? This is so extreme not to mention boring. Not one sign of Blessie. I’ve been bamboozled. And WHY is there a timer? This is so weird.

THAT’S IT?

Well I’m upset. We went to the greenhouse and didn’t see leaf or stem of Blessie. 💔

I’m not giving up hope. If not in the show then in fanfic that plant is coming back.

Mission Mishaps: Lights Out

Another entry from dear Doug. I wonder if Minkowski and Hilbert are gonna have him do something he doesn’t want to and then hijinks ensues and Doug messes something up?

HP Lovecraft, Call of Kuthulu? Oh me too Doug stuff is hard to pronounce.

Doug does a good creepy narrator voice. It’s funny to think of Hera listening to all this. It reminds me of those people on Lovelace’s crew reading stories together.

“Property of Dr….”

DOCTOR WHO? (A good show, but I’m literally asking the question).

Is it that girl on Lovelace’s crew who liked to read? (I’m sorry it’s hard to keep track of their names).

Ah yes, and the star is acting up. As is Doug’s imagination. I’m sure this couldn’t possibly go wrong.

Hilbert. What sample? What escaped?

I’m not getting my hopes up this time. You teased me with Blessie once. I’m not falling for it again. I’ve been burned before.

It just sounds like a little mouse. 🐁

…I hope it’s not one of the spiders… I’m now beginning to realize Doug’s fears…

“It’s small and scurrying”

Is it a mouse?

Doug, it’s probably just a mouse. “It’s staring at me.” Well it’s probably scared too, Doug.

Doug, you better not have killed that poor little mouse.

You killed the maintenance drone Doug? Well that was a wild ride. At first I thought they weren’t gonna go the “Doug messes up a thing Hilbert and Minkowski are doing” route but they always surprise me with their ability to bring it back there. Not that I’m complaining, I’m loving these stories. Mission Mishaps: Cold Turkey More Doug! Wow. 553 days. That’s… that’s a lot.

Thanksgiving? Is this the same Thanksgiving from Hera’s memory? 🦃

Banned from the kitchen? Oh poor, Doug. Was Hilbert not available? I guess he’s Russian so he doesn’t celebrate it. But he can probably cook.

Doug is just like me fr. Don’t ask my partner what happened when I tried to make him food. All you need to know was that I tried my best, and it’s the thought that counts.

Doug is gonna burn this Turkey. I know the actress was probably busy and these are “extra” episodes, but Hera please come online and help him.

Oh gross. Cans of spam? Disgusting.

Right, maybe Hilbert can do something. But on the other hand, Hilbert and Eiffel can make each other worse. And what was that about psychoactive properties? What was Hilbert exposed to?

“Can I give indifference? I have plenty of that.” Yes, Hilbert, you made that very clear.

“Oh well if I have to “come on”.” “Really!” “No.” Hilbert is lowkey hilarious 🤣 “I like pecan pie…maybe thanksgiving is not so terrible.” 🥧

I love how Hilbert sounds like he’s plotting something ominous even when he’s just talking about pie. 🤣

But seriously, why was he in Texas? He never answered that.

“The best way to keep him away from the kitchen was to put you in charge” oh poor Doug. She was right though.

Aw, this is sweet. I like how it connects to what we saw in Hera’s memories too.

Mission Mishaps: No Complaints Aw man, SI-5? What happened to Doug?

First they take Blessie from me then they force me to spent time with his killers.

Well gang, I guess it’s time for the adventures of Whiskey Man and Duck Boy.

Wow. Sitting in a car and brooding in the rain. An action packed adventure if I’ve ever heard one.

Oh wait, are they stalking Maxwell? They said she was from a small town.

“Did you stalk me?” Yes, he did Jacobi. Kepler was acting so creepy at that bar, I’m sorry. What even was that?

“I really hate you sometimes sir. ✨You’re the worst✨” oh Duck Boy you have no idea.

THE DUCK THING? OH NO PLEASE TELL US ABOUT THE DUCK THING.

What video. WHAT VIDEO.

Please tell us why Jacobi is brooding and PLEASE tell us about the duck video.

Jacobi taught him questions only? Wow he really does love to dig his own grave.

Kepler is not your friend Jacobi. If you think he is, you… gosh you really need to meet somebody. Anybody.

All this complaining… Jacobi really is the evil version of Doug sometimes…

What was on Jacobi’s mind? What did Rachel think was on his mind? Oh, his one year recruitment.

Nothing good ever comes out of a mysterious duffel bag. Why does he have all those fireworks?

When your evil boss takes you on a fake stake out and gives you some fireworks to blow up because he knows you crave destruction: 💣🎆🥰🎇🧨😍

I like that they play fireworks sounds as they roll the credits. It’s a nice touch. Mission Mishaps: Happy Holidays Already down to the last one. Time flies when you’re having fun. Oh more SI-5. Hopefully a little less Whiskey Boy, a little more Duck related lore.

Oh no such luck. :(

Geez, Kepler really does love flexing every single bit of power that he has, doesn’t he? Just get to the point already! Why couldn’t he have been the one to go instead of Maxwell?

“Oh no! Not a binary fault in the quartical… um… that’s bad!” Duck Boy stop being funny I don’t want to like you.

Not Kepler’s slow claps… I swear this man is infatuated with the idea of being a super villain.

What are they afraid of?

…

A holiday party?

the evil space corporation has a HOLIDAY PARTY?

For what holiday? Cutter and Pryce clearly hate holidays. They’ve ordered people killed on nearly every holiday we’ve seen! … actually maybe that’s their way of making the holidays their own… and it makes me wonder who they want to kill at this party. Jacobi and Maxwell have a right to be concerned about this.

“We don’t ask questions. We trust that we were given orders for a reason.” THAT ONLY WORKS IF YOU ARE WORKING FOR TRUSTWORTHY PEOPLE. And committing or endorsing murder takes you off the trustworthy list.

The idea of Cutter and Pryce celebrating Christmas disgusts me. Like, physically I have a hard time stomaching it. Christmas is about joy, and love, and goodwill toward mankind. Cutter and his crazy science gf have no place involving themselves in that. Not unless they show some serious remorse and do some serious penance and jail time.

SECRET SANTA EXCHANGE?

What kind of horrifying messed up gifts do people get each other? I hope Jacobi gets a pet duck.

… Maxwell’s mom died? “We all know you don’t talk to your mom” “…my mom just died?” “No Jacobi.” STOP BEING FUNNY.

Compare this to the holiday stuff that happens with the Hephaestus… this has such a creepy undertone. Especially when you imagine the events happening at the same time.

Well, that’s all for the Mission Mishaps. Sorry it took me so long guys, but I love and appreciate your patience. Excited to finish the rest of the series and hopefully I’ll have more for you soon!

#bods wolf359 reactions #wolf 359 #w359 #wolf359 reactions #alana maxwell #warren kepler #daniel jacobi #doug eiffel #renee minkowski #alexander hilbert #Wolf359 #wolf 359 podcast #wolf 359 spoilers #Mission mishaps #wolf359 #hera wolf 359

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justaholycorpse · 1 year

Text

‘Anything for you.’

Lo’ak x gn!reader

Request: yes | no

@mochi-yu for whoever requested this on your blog, i am so sorry

Warnings: Angst, no comfort, writing this made me sob, good luck reading this

Summary

—▸ Y/n was an Avatar, their human body was dying and so they had to pass through the eye of Eywa. They were sent to the Metkayina clan to help the people with wounded warriors and grew close with Lo’ak.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

It was a long flight to the islands, but even still Y/n had high hopes of helping the injured Metkayina people's. Even as a scientist, they brushed up on medicine and all the books the other sky people had brought. It was much easier to learn hands-on rather than reading from a book, y/n just didn’t learn that way so they learnt from the forest peoples, never getting too close to cause them any discomfort and some would come up to them just to help them learn.

They got to work quickly, it was their passion, to help. They wondered if Eywa had cursed them to only help others without ever gaging the thought of helping themselves, it was always their first thought to help or to save, it gave them purpose, yet Eywa is always working to change their way of living in some small way. This, however, wasn’t small; it was like a tsunami headed right for them and all they could do was watch. Eywa as their witness, did they watch. Y/n watched a boy who stuck out like the extra digit they both shared, he was Eywa’s perfect creation and everything paled in comparison to his blinding smile and those sunset coloured eyes. By the Great Mother, his eyes, they were like orbs of pure gold and a heat that melted Y/n, it was like Eywa spent her entire life trying to create the purest form of beauty and it finally paid off. They stole glances to the boy but never dropped what they were doing to gawk at him, yet Eywa; like a predator toying with its prey, drew the boy to them. The boy never directly spoke to them, even if Y/n heard him laughing and talking with his friends, nothing could prepare them to hear him talk to them.

“You’re the ‘dreamwalker’ everyone is talking about, right?” His voice cut through the mental gymnastics Y/n was doing. He only got a soft nod as they set the jars with neatly printed labels. “Yes, I’m Y/n. How may I help?” They internally shot themself in the knee, trying their best not to cringe at their words. “Nah, I don’t need your help. Just wanted to find out why your weirder than my sister.” He nonchalantly wandered around Y/n’s pod, messing with jars that had their place yet never putting them back correctly. Y/n had to stop themselves from pushing the boy’s hand away from their jars, wondering how long it’ll take before the jars are in their proper places. “Why do you have so many jars?” He finally turned to them, looking directly into their eyes. “It depends on what someone comes to me with, since Ronal is taking time away from her healing duties for her baby.”

And that was the start of it all, Lo’ak and Y/n, Y/n and Lo’ak, thick as thieves and as sharp as daggers. You’d never see one without the other, more often than not; you likely wouldn’t see them much at all. The pair raced both in the water and in the air, the off chance Y/n lost Lo’ak would brag to anyone who’d listen(just not his family), Lo’ak constantly messing with the neatly organized jars followed by him getting chased out by a very irritated Y/n. It was peaceful then, when nothing bad could ever touch them, nothing could ever tear them apart. Not even Jake or Netyri, Lo’ak would spend the night in Y/n’s pod and ramble about anything and everything until his eye lids went heavy, but it’s Lo’ak here; he doesn’t stop talking then. It’s only when Y/n finally cuts in and tells him to finish the gibberish story in the morning, but the stories never continued and that was perfectly fine. Y/n knew the endings regardless, and Lo’ak knew Y/n’s stories like he was right there with them. But, as much as we would all enjoy a good ending, not all stories end with a happily ever after Dear reader. Especially not this one… It didn’t take long before the sky people gathered an army yet again, no matter how many times anyone tried, sky people spread like a wildfire. An infectious disease that no one has the cure to even if they tried. Sky people hunted Jake and his family no matter where they ran to, no matter how many lives they took. They would stop at nothing, and Y/n knew they needed to help. That is their main purpose to Eywa, help everyone, fall in love with a boy you know you cannot have, then rip that boy’s heart out of his chest and light it ablaze while it’s still beating. Eywa was cruel and harsh, she knew not everyone could have a happy ending with the person they thought of, no matter how much they loved the other. And much like any good story, it hurts when you wish and pray for it to end happily. Jake instructed everyone, making a plan with backups should anything go wrong, that was what Jake sully did. He thought everything out, nothing should go wrong.

It was painfully obvious that Jake sully hadn’t thought about this until it unfolded before his eyes: his son, huddled over his sister’s in a last stitch effort to protect them, Tuk’s soft cries and pleas for her parents fell on deaf ears, Kiri whispering prayers to the Great mother that they make it out alive. Spider next to his “father” Miles Quatich as if nothing was wrong with his “father” holding the people he grew up with hostage, of course Jake and Netyri were beyond pissed yet they could do nothing to stop the man who promised to kill their kids if Jake didn’t die first. Kiri still whispering prayers to her mother, the Great Mother seemed to hear them, the leathery wing beats of Ikran crowding the air, Y/n at the helm, they all dove; plummeting to the sea below.

Not missing a single beat, the normally upbeat and energetic Y/n looked dead, blood dripping from their digits as they stalked closer it was almost as if they could feel Eywa’s whispers reminding them that if they go through with this there won’t be any turning back. But like Eywa had expected, Y/n and dug their grave and was ready to lie in it. They fought tooth and nail against Spider and Quatich, giving Jake and Netyri the time to free their children and to run, because if they stayed they would surely die. Lo’ak never stopped calling out to Y/n, his voice harsh in his throat as it mixed with his sobs, being pulled away from the one other person who saw him. They watched it happen, the red glint of a long piece of metal cutting through their body at an unnatural angle, blood leaking from the new hole in their body but what none of them expected; they forced the metal to dig into Spider’s chest, watching Quatich’s face burn with anger and sorrow. Quatich soon followed by being torn in two by Ikran, a kinder way to go out compared to the searing pain that cut the adrenaline rush in half.

Spider’s body fell limp onto the cold deck of the boat and Y/n soon joined him, Lo’ak slipping through his parents arms and making a bee line to Y/n. “Hang on, Ma Y/n. Hang on.. please.” He begged through choked sobs. It didn’t take long for them to return, Ronal seeing the unfixable wound Y/n had faced, she took them to the Tree of Memories, where Y/n would be connected to the tree in hopes to keep them alive. It was a very difficult thing to find out, especially for Lo’ak, he had lost his brother and now his other half? Why was the great mother so cruel?

It had been months since it happened, Y/n’s body curled in on itself but only opened itself to Lo’ak, as of Y/n knew he was there. It was sad really, his best friend in a coma but knew exactly where he was and when. It took time before he could even think of connecting to the tree himself in hopes of talking to Y/n, but he tried it once and sobbed in his sister’s arms for hours. Y/n looked the same as the week before they left, before the day they left him. The pair talked for hours, Y/n always reminding him that he needs to go up for air. People barely saw Lo’ak, he was a ghost, a shell of the boy his family knew.

No one knew if you’d ever wake up, if you’d ever bring back Lo’ak’s soul, but everyday everyone felt guilty since the day you left. But it was true that no one saw one of you without the other, so they knew that Lo’ak had to be with you.

#gn!reader #angst #i’m going to combust #avatar the way of water #fanfic #lo’ak #lo'ak x reader #i’m crying #this was hard #i hate this #it huuuurts #a lot of angst #i’m sorry

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 months

Note

I hope you don't find this super weird - I was wondering if you'd be okay with me printing and binding some of your fics? Only for myself, ofc, not for profit of any kind.

Backstory - much like a (bad) serial killer, I enjoy displaying my trophies. Which in layman's terms means I collect special editions of books I love and put them on my shelves.

I also want to learn (modern) typesetting and bookbinding, and thought, hey, I could practice on things I already read over and over again online!

Totally fine if you'd rather I didn't, and I promise I won't if it makes you feel weird knowing hardcopies of your fics are on some random NZ chick's bookshelves.

Anyhoops. Good luck with your OG fiction, have a great holiday (if you so celebrate), and here's to more Buddie in the future! 😊

- Maira

*puts a mentor-y hand on your shoulder* Remember dear, nobody starts out a good serial killer. It all comes with practice! You can't be a good serial killer until you are a bad one. I believe in you.

Also that is not creepy or weird at all, and I'm deeply flattered that you wanted to do that with my fics. It absolutely makes my day. If you ever wanted to share pictures I'd love it, but of course only if you're comfortable.

I hope you have a lovely day dear, you've brought joy to mine!

#mads answers things #carrierofthepaperclips

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downtherabbitholewithlucy · 6 months

Text

👻LIMP BIZKIT'S HOUSE OF HORRORS👻

(a terrible, poor excuse for a Halloween campy-"horror" fic that was never intended to be a fic... but yet here we are. Warning: Foul language, "jumpscares"... sure, if you wanna call it that.)

(no seriously, this is not good. turn back now and spare yourselves)

You'd heard the rumors for so long. An old house at the edge of town supposedly haunted by the trapped souls of a band where nu metal went to die. Why did nu metal die in this house? Well no one really knows. But you were here to find out.

You walked into the decrepit house. A chill traveled down your spine. You weren't sure if it is the rain in cool October night or something else.

The wind outside howled, causing the door you stepped through to slam shut.

You immediately turned around and tried to turn the doorknob with no luck.

You stood there as reality set in.

You were stuck here. You shook the flashlight in your hands and turned it on.

A voice stirred you from your thoughts.

"Welcome to my haunted crib punk."

Your eyebrows shot up at the sound. You turned around, trying to find the source of the voice, but there was no one there. "...umm, h- hello?"

"Didn't you read the fuckin' sign outside? What'd ya got a death wish?"

"Who's there?" You raised the flashlight and aimed the beam in front of you.

"WHOA! Easy with that thing. You're gonna blind somebody."

You raised the beam to your face. "I'm not gonna ask again. WHO'S THERE?"

"You do know I can see you right? Even without the flashlight. But since you can't see me, let me introduce myself. Name's Fred Durst. I'll be your host. You're ghost host."

"Isn't that from the Haunted Mans-"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Look, can you just help me find out what happened here so I can get out of here?"

"Bossy much. Okay, okay, look... all the answers you're looking for are right up those stairs."

You scoffed. "You've gotta be kidding?"

"Nope."

"Can't I just like, you know, ask you what I want to know?"

"Nuh uh. I don't do interviews. Media twists words for print."

"The media? You do know I'm not a journalist and that you're a ghost, right?"

"Up the stairs. That's how this works."

"Geez, now who's the bossy one." You rolled your eyes before making your way up the steps, each one creaked louder and louder.

When you made your way up you found a long hallway adorned with eerie portraits.

You looked at the inscription below each, 'Sir Wesley Louden Borland. Lead guitarist known for his eccentric looks'.

The hallway continued on forever. Strange artifacts lining the walls.

"Huh, that's an odd take of an armored knight."

You kept walking.

"Wait... did it just, move?" You took in a deep breath. "No you're just imagining things. Don't be silly."

"Yeah, it does that sometimes."

"WHA-?"

"Handsome, right?"

"Wait... FRED?"

"Don't look so shocked."

"I thought I couldn't see you since you're a ghost."

"Nah. I just like to fuck with people. I choose when I want people to see me."

The exasperated look on your face said it all. "What the hell man? Just help me get outta here."

"Sure thing. Just pick a door."

"Huh?" You turned and faced the direction phantom Fred was pointing in.

A short hallway with five doors.

You blinked.

"AHHH! SHIT. HOW did you get there? And why do you look different?"

"I'm a ghost. Remember? I'm everywhere. And I look how I wanna look. You don't like it, that's your problem."

"Look, whatever. How are those doors gonna help me?"

"One of them holds your exit. And who knows maybe you'll find the answers you're looking for.

"Fine. Let's just get this over with."

You marched to the first door on your left. Before you could open the door, you heard banging and clashing over and over again. It just got louder the more your hand reached out for the knob. With a twist and push, you opened the door and were hit with the sight of blinding lights, swinging chains from the ceiling and a figure seated at a drumkit. His back turned to you.

The figure banged on the drums like a madman with a chaotic beat. The lights flicked like a strobe flickering around his form. You got closer, hand reached out to tap his shoulder, but before you could even make contact, his head twisted all the way around to face you whilst his torso remained still.

"TAKE 'EM TO THE MATHEWS BRIDGE!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

You ran out the room and slammed the door shut.

Fred's mocking laugh echoed from the distance as you braced your hands against your knees and caught your breath.

"No luck with that door I guess?"

"WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THIS FREAKING HOUSE FRED?"

"Check out the other rooms and you'll see."

You huffed under your breath and marched forward to the next room but not before muttering, "I'm so over this nu metal rendition of Five Nights at Freddy's".

"I heard that."

"Good." You pushed the next door open and stepped inside.

It was pitch black. Not even a window off in the distance to illuminate the floor. Your flashlight had stopped working and wouldn't turn back on. Great.

You heard a sound, grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

You stood there, frozen like a statue, but the sound kept becoming more piercing.

Suddenly the sound reversed backwards, then repeated back to it's original tone before reverting back again. It kept on going like that over and over until the scratching sound got repeatedly faster until the sound changed.

"Are those... horns?"

The sound switched to an upbeat hip hop tempo and a light shone in front of you... and it wasn't from your flashlight.

A pair of floating hands hovered over a turntable as the ghostly fingertips spined the records.

The light grew wider, illuminating a face with a black weed ball cap shielding his eyes.

"DJ LETHAL FROM HOUSE OF PAIN IN THE BUILDING!!!"

The DJ's hands lifted off from the records as the song continued to mysteriously play. The records started to levitate above the turntables. They rotated, thin side facing right at you before sharp knives protruded from the edges charging at you like Chinese stars.

"WHAT THE FU-"

You turned back around and bolted out the door, shutting it before you could finish your expletive statement as the razor sharp records pierced through the wood of the door on either side of your head.

"FRED I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET ME OUT OF HERE IN THE NEXT-"

woof, woof.

"-huh?"

You looked down, only to be greeted with a wide set of jet black eyes attached to a yellow face. The figure crouched at your feet. It looked human, well not really, more like an alien... but it acted like a... puppy... maybe.

You bent down to get a closer look. "Hi little fella." You slowly reached out to pet it's head.

Fred's voice echoed along the halls, "I'd watch out for him. He-"

"OWWW."

"-bites."

You stood up to nurse your bitten hand. "You little fucker."

The creature growled and stood up on two feet, sharp canines ready to bite again.

"NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN!" You backed off and ran away, heading for the next door, entering it and slamming it shut.

The creature's growls died off in the distance.

A low, treble rumbled around your ears like surround sound.

In front of you, several feet away, a shadowy figure with red glowing eyes stood still. Suddenly, his glowing red eyes appeared to have multiplied down the length of his body.

The low sound seemed to be mirroring the rapid beating of your heart.

You gulped. Loud.

Spotlights illuminated from the ground and you were surrounded by mirrors.

Suddenly the shadowy figure was everywhere. His reflection beaming off every mirror as the spotlights on the floor casted enough light on his sinister face and the long bass guitar he was holding.

Before you knew it the strings detached from the bass' bridge and snapped out like wild whips ready to make contact with your flesh.

You cried out in horror not knowing which direction they were actually coming from and worse, not knowing where the door was through all the mirrors.

You swore the strings were coming right at you in dozens of different directions, but when you never felt anything after each whip, you grew more afraid.

This was psychological warfare.

Without a second thought, you chucked your flashlight out in front of you and the image of the bass wielding madman shattered to the ground revealing the door once again. You ran to it and exited the room as quickly as you possibly could.

When you made it out into the hallway again, you were met with "the alien puppy" once again waiting for you in front of the door across from you, only this time it had transformed into a demonic mutt.

"I take it that's his doghouse- er- um, room?"

The haunting voice of Fred chuckled. "Yeah, a little of both."

You looked back at the demon pup.

It barked at you before scurrying around and moving into the room that was already slightly opened, waiting for you to follow.

"Do I even wanna know what's waiting inside?"

"Don't think I could describe it to you even if I wanted to."

You sighed. "Jesus Christ."

When you made your way through the door you were stopped by a ghostly figure wielding a sharp sword.

"HALT!"

"Wha-"

"What brings you into my lair?"

"Your lair? What are you talking ab- Who are you?"

"The name is Sir Wesley Louden Borland." The phantom stated in a terrible British accent.

"Ohhh, like in those creepy photos in the hallway."

"Creepy pho-" The phantom's accent quickly faded into a nasally American accent that was clearly offended, before he cleared his throat and doubled down on the Brit tone. This time it echoed in a cheesy villainous way that vibrated past your ear drums. "You haven't answered my question. What brings you into my lair?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't even know anymore. I was searching for some philosophical answer to nu metal, but honestly, now I just wanna go home man."

"Very well then. To escape my lair you must complete one task."

"What's that?"

"Figure out which Wes is real."

"Huh?"

Before you knew it the sword-holding-phantom had vanished and two figures had emerged on the other side of the room.

"REALLY?"

The two figures stood still.

The one, piercing through your soul with an eerie set of double eyes, none of them blinking.

The other, perched high up on a wicker chair, glaring down at you like a sleep paralysis demon haunting your slumber.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

The phantom's voice echoed through the room again. "Figure out which Wes is real."

"Yeah, you said that already Mr. Ghost-Phantom-Man."

Silence.

You shook your head in annoyance and started to tip-toe your way further into the room, closely analyzing the two figures' features as you made your decision on which you were going to interact with first.

Yep, not the sleep paralysis demon.

"Okay mister four eyes, let's check if you're real."

You tickled his mustache.

Nothing.

Grabbed him by the suspenders and sent it snapping back.

Nothing. Didn't even move one bit.

"Guess this is just a really good statue. Alright then, Mr. Sleep-Paralysis-Demon it is."

You marched over to the tall figure and tugged at it's long silk robe it wore.

Nothing.

You reached up for it's hand and was surprised to be met with such hardness. Like stone.

"What the heck! Hey Mr. Ghost-Phantom-Man? I think you sent me some defective Wes dudes over h-"

And that's when you heard it.

The sound of two down tunned guitar riffs going off in the distance.

Your eyes widened.

The guitar went off again.

Suddenly the whispered voice of Sir Wesley Louden Borland was right there in your ear. "You seemed to have forgotten the one standing behind you..."

Your teeth chattered as your body involuntarily turned around, slowly. There was nothing but darkness there.

"...I present to you, Bloody Butcher Borland."

The guitar riff sounded off again and from the shadows emerged bold red figure with fresh blood smeared all over it's body.

He flashed a wicked grin before twisting the neck of the guitar off it's body and it transformed into a sword. He held it up to the light.

"...wait a minute... that's Sir Phantom-Dude's sword!"

Before you knew it the bloodied figure was chasing you, sharp weapon in hand.

"OHMYGOD!!!" You exclaimed as you ran for your life, trying your best to run around him and reach for the door again, but the room was somehow getting larger and larger. The distance between you and the door growing further apart.

You looked back and that's when you really felt like you were going to shit yourself.

You were being chased by Bloody Butcher Borland, as he was joined by every single form of Wes that you'd encountered. Sir Wesley Louden Borland, Four-Eyes, Sleep Paralysis Demon, Demon-Mutt, and Alien-Puppy.

"FRED I COULD REALLY USE YOUR HELP HERE! HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS ROOM? IT JUST KEEPS ON STRETCHING!" You yelled out as your legs continued to bolt for the door with no luck.

The ghost voice of Fred grunted around you, "Ugh, do I have to do everything around here?"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"Fine. Here. Catch."

"WHA-"

You heard a whooshing sound above you as you saw brown object dropping in mid-air. You reached your hands out and caught the hard object.

A ceramic rabbit.

And that's when you heard it. The charging footsteps behind you went still and a choir of monotone voices erupted behind you.

"LUCY."

You looked down at the rabbit in your hands, then looked back up at the hoard of Wes figures standing still in front of you, in a trance.

"Is this what you want?" You shook the rabbit figurine out like a teddy bear in front of a baby.

The hoard shook their heads 'yes' in unison.

You gently placed the figurine on the hard floor beneath you and slowly walked backwards, watching as the room began to shrink back to regular size as the hoard of Wes' made their way to the rabbit like travelling zombies.

"MUST PROTECT LUCY. MUST PROTECT FRIEND."

You looked on at the odd ritual in front of you as you continued to make your way backwards until your back had hit the door.

With a sigh of relief you grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open, but you stopped, looking back at the figures in the middle of the room as they took turns clutching onto their ceramic friend like a bunch of Neanderthals'. You had to admit, it was a heartwarming sight, well if you set aside the near-death experience of it all.

You made your way out the door and closed it tight.

You looked ahead at the last door. That had it be it. The exit.

You walked over to the door but quickly stopped. Standing there in contemplative thought. You whispered to yourself in revelation, "Wes lost his friend, Lucy, so then he lost his spirit. When the band lost their friend, Wes, they lost their spirits. When nu metal lost the band, nu metal was no more..."

"So it looks like you did find what you were looking for after all, huh?" Fred's ghost appeared in front of you once more.

You looked up at his ghostly figure, "It all makes sense now."

"I guess you're finally ready to walk through that last door."

"Yeah... I guess so."

"Alright, partner. Keep on rollin', baby. You know what time it is." Fred said softly with a wink.

You shared a knowing smirk with his ghost and opened the door but stopped before going through it, turning back to look at Fred's ghost inquisitively.

"Wait, so why did y'all haunt this house specifically. Was this like where y'all held band practice when starting out?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many damn questions? Jesus. Yeah sure, that's the reason. Why not? Now get lost. The haunted house tour is over." He shoved you out. "Don't forget to pick-up your souvenir photo at the exit giftshop."

"Souvenir pho-?"

SNAP.

A bright light flashed from the porch awning... or maybe it was lightning. Either way you were too distracted by the blinding light and missed a step on your way out of the porch, tumbling down to the ground.

Thunk.

You were knocked out cold.

When you finally came back to your senses, a figure in white stood above you.

You blinked a couple of times to unblur the image.

"TRICK OR TREAT PUNK. TAKE SOME CANDY FOR THE ROAD."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 👻🎃🦇💀🐈‍⬛

#if you made it this far waiting for me to explain to you what the hell you just experienced... well you're guess is as good as mine.#listen this started as a small photo post I had saved to my drafts months ago for spooky szn #but then it evolved into this psuedo-fever-dream-halloween-dumpster-fire-fic-with-photos #if you're curious there was going to be an alternate ending where you woke up & realized you had tripped major balls off Lee's kush stash #but I just got lazy and ended it where I did #somewhat of a sappy-halloween-themed hallmark tumblr post with a sprinkle of campy “horror”... if you can even call it that.#so there ya go I guess #If anyone unfollows me because of the sheer stupidity of this post... honestly I don't blame you.#Lucy's Bizkit Boo Bash: Countdown to Halloween #Limp Bizkit #nu metal #Fred Durst #Wes Borland #John Otto #DJ Lethal #Sam Rivers #down the rabbit hole #just give me something to queue

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