#i just really needed to scream into the void for a moment.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi I hope can you can a yandere scott and jean with child reader haunted mansion au please.

Hahaha, yes! So, Reader in this, I'm imagining they are a random kid who was dropped off at the wrong house. Let's see how it goes-

The house was really cold, you'd noticed.

And dusty.

And old.

It seemed rather large, with too many doors and too many paintings and too many mirrors and too many cobwebs to count. It seemed... abandoned. Lonely. And it made you scared. You were trying not to cry, you were trying to be a big kid, but it was hard when every time you walked the floor creaked, and spooky noises came from deep inside the twisting halls.

You were rather happy, then, to see someone. A tall someone, who wore bright red glasses.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" you called, your voice a loud whisper that echoed in the vast void of the room. That caught the attention of the tall person, who was a older teen. He looked pretty shocked to see you.

"What the...?" he said, then came closer. It was quite apparent now that you were tiny compared to him. Yet the moment he was near, you latched onto his leg, hugging it. "Um, hey, kid? Um... how. How did you get in here?"

"I was left here. They said this was where the babysitter was," you answered. He was really cold, almost freezing, like snow. It was weird, but he seemed nice. "Are you the babysitter?"

For a moment he looked conflicted, then he scooped you up, holding you rather gently. "Um, yep. For tonight. My name's Scott, what's yours?" He carried you through the different rooms, until you reached a dining room, setting you down on a chair carefully. For a minute he seemed to flicker, but it must have been a trick of the light...

"Oh... I'm Reader..."

"Huh... that's... that's a good name. Did you need anything?"

"I don't kn-"

"Scott!"

Another teenager soon appeared, one with bright auburn hair, who seemed happy to see him. The moment she saw you, her smile only widened. "Aaaawwww, hi, sweetie! Who are you?"

"That's Reader. Reader, this is Jean, Jean, this is Reader. We were just trying to see if they needed anything," Scott explained. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "They were, uh... dropped off here."

"What?" Jean seems almost confused, then angry, then calm again. "Okay, I see... Well, let's take care of you, okay, sweetie?" she says to you, and you shyly grin at her. She seems nice.

"Can we play a game?"

"Um, sure, kid. What game did you have in mind?"

"Whatever you want, okay?"

"Um... what about hide and go seek?" you offer. That's met with two nods, and you quickly add, "Can I hide first?"

"Of course. Just... let's play outside, okay? I don't think all the rooms are clean in here, and we don't need you getting sick," Jean explains. Scott nods, and you simply race them to the door. When you look back, they're both closing their eyes, starting to count.

You giggle, racing out the large doors and working your way into the yard beside the large house. It's full of weird rocks and stones, with names carved on them, along with numbers. And there's even one with your name, scratched in and with some sweet words under it... But you decided to hide behind the two that have Scott and Jean's names on them, with rhyming words. It takes awhile before you hear them come out, the only way you know it being them calling, "Ready or not, here we come!"

It doesn't take too long for them to find you, after looking around the different stones and slabs and bushes. And when they do find you, you laugh-scream when hands suddenly pick you up, hugging you tightly.

"There you are!"

"Here I am!"

After that, you're soon put to bed, being kept in a small room with a smaller bed. The blankets smell a little old, and the room is slightly warmer than the others, but you settle down, lulled under by the story being read to you by your two new friends...

When you wake up, your parent is worried, quickly grabbing you and almost running through the halls and out the door, not stopping for a minute. "Where are we going?" you yawn, rubbing at your eyes.

"We're going home, baby, okay? I'm so sorry I left you here all alone, I thought this was the right house!"

"But I wasn't alone..."

Your parent's face goes pale, almost like a ghost. "You... there were people there?"

You nod your head.

With that, they start the car, speeding down the long, long driveway and out into the lonely road. You'd only later find out, when you're older, that the house, a mansion, had been abandoned for years... and that no one was living there at all...

But that didn't mean the dead weren't...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #👻haunted mansion🔮 au #platonic yandere scott summers #platonic yandere cyclops #platonic yandere jean grey #go roxanndrummond go!

[old-schoolgenz]

When talking about MCD, which I was middle school when it was first coming out. (Man that feels like fuckin forever ago) I always felt like it was a gimmick added to her modded playthrough that grew out of hand. I mean rewatch those first episodes. Jess is talking to the audience 95% of the time. This I think, is all the explanation needed to mostly wave off the writing. It's unfortunate, but inexperienced writers can definitely get tunnel vision on certain characters, especially if one of them is your own self-insert. Aphmau suffers from also being the audience, so if Jess ever wants to surprise us. Aphmau has to either be ignorant or it has to happen off-screen. This is the major issue with A and A's build up there. Jess wanted a plot twist. Unfortunately she's also the main character.

This is actually the main problem with most of MCD. It's Aphmau centric, we don't see anything (or at least very little) that doesn’t happen to her, so we are absent from private moments with just Garroth, or Laurance when he's in his natural (not in the presence of and therefore pining after Aphmau) state. People, REAL people are more then how they act around one person.

This is kinda fixed in Mystreet. Aphmau is still the main character, but we can break off and explore other characters because we're not glued to her camera anymore. And it really helps.

So what am I trying to say? MCD desperately needs a rewrite where we are unglued from Aphmau and can explore the internal thoughts of other characters. Not to say she shouldn't be the main character (She's fucking GOD.) But we should be seeing how the guard trio interact without her. See from Katelyn's perspective why exactly she switched sides, what Zane's plan was when going into the Irene Dimension (like mate what the fuck was the plan? You already had a relic.) This would fix a good portion of the pacing and plot issues.

Whatever, I'm just screaming into the void my internal thoughts anyway...

#aphmau #aarmau #aphmau mcd #mystreet #aphblr #aphverse

[cloudselkie]

Uuuuugh.

FUCK CHRON'S DISEASE!!!!!!!!!

That is all.

#fuck chronic illness #chronic illness #chron's disease #i just really needed to scream into the void for a moment.

[tsubasagirl]

Thank you DeNa.

#gladion #trainer blue #pokemon masters #pokemas #my screen recording #tagging it as that cuz this is kind of the first meme I’ve ever made #first things first HOH MY GOD I’M SO HAPPY #DeNa FINALLY HEARD OUR VOICES #and by ours I mean all the people who have been asking via the pokemas Instagram #I only got to read the news 2 hours after it was first announced in the pokemas discord datamine channel #had to make this meme as quickly as I could with img flip and Snapchat lmao #this is actually really great timing cuz I just reached friendship lvl 100 with Giovanni #and got no one else to hang with other than blue #this is second best to getting an alt gladion #alt piers and roxie look really cool so I’m not mad at that #but also #why is gladion just screaming into the void in his special pic #LET HIM BE HAPPY #but also I guess it’s kinda fair since we’ve gotten a good handful of smiling gladion moments #he needs to let that angsty/edgy anger out every once in a while #my guess about special day no. 2 is that he’s gonna be venting and be vulnerable with the player #which is a nice connection to that one lobby dialogue he has where he realised he had opened up to the player #god thank you again DeNa

[airenyah]

having a deep-talk with a friend on whatsapp about how i'm really weird about having romantic feelings for someone and thinking about that one time when my mom stumbled across utsukushii kare on viki (back when only the first season was out) and watched it and then promptly sat me down and made me watch it too and by the end of it i was having a bit of a crisis, sitting there with my jaw dropped to the ground going "oh shit i see myself in hira" while my mom is just laughing her ass off saying "there's a reason why i wanted you to see this"

#i really need to watch the second season at some point #i didn't watch it back when it dropped bc i wanted to watch it together with my mom #but my mom that little traitor just went and watched it without me #i probably should have told her that i wanted to watch it with her lmao #anyway i still haven't seen s2 #utsukushii kare #airenyah plappert #adrm #also that whatsapp conversation sharing insecurities sure is super duper fun #got some great moments such as my friend saying ''bc of past bullying i feel undesirable and that no one will ever like me'' #while i'm just sitting there like ''i've literally had a crush on you for a year now but ok'' #not that i'd EVER admit it to my friend's face #no i'd much rather scream it into the void here on tumblr thanks #literally cannot deal with romantic feelings ok bye

[saltybiowarefantears]

🙃

#about to commit some ding dang murderin if i'm not careful #seriously because of some miscommunication and office fuckups (happens i get it) but then CONTINUED ones i can't get help until february #i just hate that when offices make a mistake like this it's the patients that suffer for it like 'oops my bad we'll fix it. come back later #when later means in six months... ok! that's fine! how about i break a knee cap and you can't walk for a few months 'oops my bad!' #these are people's lives. i've had to put all my shit on hold because of this. did you know it's my 10 year wedding anniversary soon? #guess what i can't really go anywhere or do anything to celebrate? but no... oops my bad #medical vent #salty vent #delete later #sorry i just really really needed to scream into the void for a moment

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Wow yikes I really just worked myself up into a mood bad enough that I was about 30sec from goin back to Val

Ass saved by Ti/me Prin/cess distracting me long enough to snap out of it

#i mean i don't think he'd hurt me (physically. much.) cause he doesn't wanna get into trouble but #i really don't need to be dealing with the shame on top of everythin else #it's not that long ago i last crashed at his place even if it was just to immediately sleep n he probably didn't do anything shady #still feel like shit about that cause i hate proving him right so let's not do that again n def not let him. do more. #someday this fucking void inside me will stop screaming at me to go back where i belong HE DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING WANT ME THERE #like jesus pick a new tune can't you try n get me to do smth productive instead of self harming usin him as a proxy #after the shit he pulled with silk there's zero doubt he wouldn't take the opportunity to break me down all over again #so i really really need to not fucking hand him that opportunity #no matter how shitty i feel n even if he can (doubtful) make it go away for a moment it's nothin compared to the self loathing after #it's! not! worth! it! you stupid slut! #he hates you n wants to hurt you! he literally said to your face he wants to break you so much worse than he ever did before! #like what part of 'you won't be able to function without me telling you what to do' is ambiguous #you know what he's got planned for you n the only way to stop him is to not. fucking. let him get a hold of you. ever again #bitch!!! use that one lone braincell of yours n get a hobby or smth #spdrvent

[dollerines]

How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying

So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.

Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !

You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.

All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.

So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”

At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.

WHAT I MANIFESTED :

Desired body and face

Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly

And everything in my sub playlist

My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷

Moving countries I now live in ny

Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before

Extremely rich rich like hella bands

Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue

Plus +++

NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.

Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!

YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷

#loa #nondualism #void state #success story #law of assumption #manifesting #subliminals

[mgparker]

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour. 

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you. 

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders. 

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you. 

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about. 

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look. 

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone. 

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly. 

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh. 

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon. 

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met. 

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before. 

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again. 

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table. 

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.  

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits. 

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question. 

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure. 

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.” 

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time. 

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes. 

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it. 

Not that you wanted to. 

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment-- 

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours. 

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed. 

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way. 

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week. 

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace. 

Acceptance. 

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch. 

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys. 

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy. 

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you. 

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god. 

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar. 

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity. 

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you. 

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it. 

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back. 

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you. 

“What does that even mean?” You groaned. 

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under. 

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly. 

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all. 

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well. 

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

#marc spector angst #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon boys #moonknight #moon knight #Marc Spector #Steven grant #jake lockley #oscar Isaac #marvel #f!reader #angst #character death #character wound #mgparker

[sp1cy-t0ss]

Antares

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45534721

The first thing Nightwing hears upon regaining consciousness is ominous chanting. A man’s voice rings out over the rest, ranting about an Eternal King, infinite power, and -- oh boy -- sacrifices. He tunes it out to assess the situation.

He’s in an old warehouse. Robin’s here too, looking even more annoyed than Nightwing feels, and both of them have their hands and ankles bound in rope. His comm is on silent, just as he left it, like an idiot. The ranting man and his followers in matching robes are gathered around a ritual circle in the middle of the floor. Yeah, that tells him all he needs to know. They need to get out, now.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly when the leader finishes his speech and turns to them.

“So,” the man asks with a cruel smile. “Which of you ‘heroes’ will have the honor of bringing our Lord to this plane?” 

“I will.” Robin’s voice is sharp, unyielding. 

The man is obviously surprised to receive an actual answer to his taunt, but obliges. He pulls Robin away without another word.

“What?! No! Robin, you can’t--” Nightwing’s protest is cut off with a punch to the stomach from one of the robed lackeys.

“I have my reasons, Nightwing; it must be me.” Robin’s face reveals nothing, but he gives a subtle hand signal: I have a plan.

Nightwing forces himself to calm down. They’ll get out of this. He just has to trust his Robin. While everyone’s eyes are off him, he quietly works at the amateur knots.

The leader drags Robin into the circle without a fight. He raises a jeweled dagger, intentions clear... 

But Robin is faster. He bites his own wrist, hard, and spits his blood into the circle. The runes light up in terrible Lazarus green, and Robin pushes himself upright with a malicious grin.

The lead cultist scrambles back from the circle and into a deep bow. The chanting stops as his minions follow suit. Robin continues to look far too smug for his situation. Nightwing feels a headache coming on somewhere under his renewed panic.

This is his plan?! 

There’s a blinding flash of light. When the spots clear from Nightwing’s vision, the Eternal King is floating in the circle, mere feet from the bound Robin.

The Eternal King isn’t quite the grotesque horror he expected. Their body is a glittering black void, a sleek humanoid shadow with misty white hair and bright, bright eyes of toxic green. A cold fog rolls off of their body in waves.

“Antares,” the shadow rumbles, and Nightwing feels static thrum in his bones with the sound. The room is painfully cold, but the King doesn’t seem aggressive yet. Maybe they really can bargain their way out of this mess.

Robin doesn’t flinch. He looks the Eternal King right in the eyes, utterly fearless, and smirks. “Hello, Beloved.”

What?

The King stares silently, floating closer. For a long moment, no one moves. No one speaks.

“My lord, does the sacrifice please you?” The ringleader cuts in, standing up with a greedy gleam in his eyes. 

Something in the air changes as the King turns toward the man. Something cold, electric, heavy under the skin. Nightwing suppresses a shiver as he works through the last of the rope.

“You d̵̢̛a̵̼̽ṙ̴͎e̵͙̐.”

The leader pales and falls to his knees. “My Lord, if this offering is insufficient, we have another--”

The King s̴̱̖̺̺̓͊̕̕ć̵͇͇͔̈r̴̥͐e̸̥̬͌̂̌̊a̴̭̔̓̀̔͘m̵̯͑̋͌͠s̵̗̤̻̭̍̿, a furious howl that blurs Nightwing’s vision and claws his ears. The sound is everywhere, driving him to his knees. Growing shadows seem to absorb his little brother just as Nightwing realizes he’s blacking out. 

They’re falling, they’re falling someone help they’re screaming he’s screaming make it stop dead on impact blood and bones make it stop make it STOP--

When he comes back to himself, it’s quiet. Nightwing blinks tears from his eyes, gasping for frigid air that pierces his lungs like knives. The floor outside the circle is covered in blood splatter. The cultists have all been struck down, and many aren’t moving. 

But he’s not looking at them.

Because the monster is coiled around Robin like a snake, eyes burning as it surveys the room. Robin seems unharmed for now, but he has to get his baby brother away from that thing.

He steps forward, and those endless green eyes lock onto him. It snarls at his approach, revealing multiple rows of teeth. Claws subtly tighten on Robin’s shoulders. Nightwing sinks into a combat stance, and the creature braces itself to leap.

Pure, animal instinct screams that Nightwing won’t survive this fight.. It doesn’t matter. He’ll give his all like he always has, and Robin can escape. The others will find a way to take it down. He just has to buy time.

“Dove, it’s alright.”

To Nightwing’s amazement, the creature freezes. It turns to look at Robin, warbling in apparent confusion before turning back to Nightwing with a hiss.

Robin grabs its face in both hands and forces it to look at him. “No. That’s Nightwing, remember? He will not harm us. I am safe. We are safe.” His voice is steady, soothing as he gently presses their foreheads together. A spark of awareness slowly returns to ‘Dove’s’ eyes.

“Come back to me.”

The monster sags in Robin’s grip, slowly folding in on itself until a nearly-human teen with snowy white hair is left floating gently in its place.

Robin smiles, gentle and shockingly warm. “There you are.”

‘Dove’ is shaking. Their eyes are locked on Robin, as though he’s the only thing in their universe. “Antares,” they breathe, before wrapping Robin in a tight hug.

Robin briefly looks to Dick, gesturing toward the cultists. He then returns his attention to the distraught being, resting his chin on their head and both hands on their back. The obvious dismissal makes Nightwing uneasy, but the kid has a point. They'll just have to check him for hypnosis or mind control back at the Cave.

Now that Nightwing is actually looking at the cultists, their injuries are horrific. Deep lacerations, stab wounds, frostbite, severed limbs...none of them seem likely to die with medical treatment, but every last one is maimed. 

The ringleader is worst of all. His eyes are gouged out, and his hands ripped off and cauterized by the same unearthly frost that burns scattered marks into his skin. An unfamiliar symbol has been clawed into his chest. 

Nightwing looks back to the circle, where Dove is quietly sobbing. Their face is tucked securely into Robin’s neck, and Nightwing hears whispers of I was scared and can’t lose you too.  

This is the same person?

By the time the cultists are all secured and the police have been called, Dove seems to have calmed down. Time to play the diplomat. Again. 

Damn, maybe Steph has a point about Eldest Daughter Syndrome.

“I, uh, hate to interrupt, but we should probably get out of here, yeah? GCPD will be here in a couple minutes,” he proposes with a friendly smile.

Dove wipes their eyes. “Right.” Then they look around the room and wince. “Uhm, sorry you? Had to see that? I...panicked. You’re okay though, right? Not hurt or anything?” The question is disarmingly earnest, and there’s nothing but concern in their eyes. Hm.

“Nah, not a scratch,” Nightwing dismisses. Then he remembers he’s apparently talking to a king. “Thank you for saving Robin, Your Highness,” he adds with a bow of his head. 

“Nuh-uh, no titles. Gross.” The King makes a face, then smiles with renewed cheer. “Call me Phantom. He/him, ghost, and general pain in the ass, at your service!” He floats higher and punctuates his announcement with a midair flip. “You might as well know, since we’re gonna be seeing each other a lot now.”

Crap. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Nightwing ventures.

‘Phantom’ exchanges a meaningful look with Robin. Nightwing barely has time to register the mischief on both their faces before Robin pulls the being down into a kiss. 

A deep kiss now. Really deep. Yeah, they’ve definitely forgotten he’s here.

When they finally separate, Robin looks quite satisfied. Phantom, however, sticks out a forked tongue and scrunches his face. “Blech, blood. What did you...” His eyes land on Robin’s still-bloody wrist, then the droplets still in the circle. 

“You didn’t.” A grin creeps across his face. “You have me on soul speed dial and you still hijacked a whole-ass summoning!”

“Tt. I was making a point.” Robin crosses his arms.

Phantom cackles. “You are literally the most dramatic person I’ve ever met!” he crows.

Robin raises an eyebrow and gestures to the warehouse full of mangled cultists. Phantom opens his mouth to retort, but it’s at this point that Nightwing finally manages to pull his jaw off the floor and speak. 

“Robin,” he says with deliberate calm. “What the fuck.”

And then they hear police sirens. Fantastic.

“Crap. Don’t worry, I got it!” Phantom declares as he rips a green hole in existence. Robin is unfazed, which is rapidly getting less and less surprising.

A woman in the corner stirs. Phantom makes a ‘one moment’ gesture before he stalks over and yanks her forward with a growl. “You’ve kept your tongue for a reason. Spread the word: Robin is mine.” (Robin stands taller, obviously pleased by that extremely concerning statement.)  The woman nods frantically, and Phantom drops her to the ground. 

Without further preamble, Phantom zips back over and shoves both vigilantes through the rip.

Just like that, they’re all in Damian’s bedroom. The two boys immediately sit together on the edge of the bed, while Dick remains standing. Dick doesn’t even know where to begin, so he can only give a helpless ‘why’ sort of gesture. Thankfully, Damian seems to take pity on him.

“Richard, this insufferable fool is my Beloved. His name is Danny, and he is seventeen.” Then he smirks. “You may refer to him as High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms; The Tyrant’s Bane, True Balance, Son Of Stars, Pride of Time, Death’s Chosen--”

The ghost groans dramatically, flopping across Damian’s lap like a wet noodle. “Oh my gawd, Dames, why would you tell him that?”

"It is very important that Richard recognizes your position and authority.” Damian says, not even trying to sound convincing.

Danny reaches up and pushes at Damian’s face. It brings to mind a pair of cats, especially with Damian doing his best to look annoyed instead of fond. “Betrayal! I want a divorce!”

That’s the last straw. Dick chokes on his own spit and has to thump his chest a few times to breathe right again. With monumental effort, he manages to wheeze out a strangled “Are you MaRriEd?!”

Danny tries to sputter out a reply, but Dick is distracted by Damian laughing. It’s a low, light sound, with no attempt made to disguise it. 

“Of course not,” Damian says. He cards a hand through Danny’s hair, the other boy sighing contently and looking up at him with adoring neon eyes. “We've only courted for seven months now. It will be another three years before we wed.” 

Dick is just. Gonna ignore that last bit. For his own sanity. “Wait, how did you keep a whole boyfriend secret for seven months? In this family?” 

“Bribery.” “Threats.”

Yeah, that sounds about right. Babs and Duke probably know then.

“Cool, good to know. One more question.” Well, more like a billion, but he may as well start with an icebreaker before the inevitable interrogation. Besides, it’s a big brother's duty to embarrass his siblings. “Why Dove?”

Damian says nothing, but his deep blush is almost audible.

“Because I’m cute and fluffy!” Danny chirps.

“Hardly,” Damian scoffs. “It’s because you are raucously annoying and constantly crash into windows.”

Literally everything about this situation is baffling, but Danny looks so offended that Dick can’t help but laugh.

“You lying asshole!” Danny screeches.

Damian turns to Dick. “He attempted to use a grapple three times and broke eleven windows; four of them with his face. I have videos.” Danny gasps, the two start bickering, and Dick is left to his thoughts once more. 

Even as the pair separate to point fingers and trade increasingly creative insults, their body language is completely relaxed. As much as Dick is panicking about a powerful undead monarch around their family, Damian is happy. He has been for months, now that Dick thinks about it. He’s been loosening up a little, leaving the manor more, and even mentioning a few new friends (though he refuses to use the word.)

Whoever or whatever Danny is, he’s been good for him.

“Well,” Dick cuts in, interrupting an inventive declaration about overripe cheese. “We’ll obviously need to talk about this. But for what it’s worth,” he smiles. “I’m happy for you, Baby Bat.” 

With that said, Dick walks out of the bedroom. Danny gives him a grateful smile, and a quiet thank you, Richard can be heard as he closes the door behind him.

Dick walks away at a leisurely pace until he reaches the end of the hallway, where he promptly breaks into a sprint toward the Cave. Checking the Batcomputer to make sure Damian hasn’t noticed the planted bug yet, he turns on his comms. Unsurprisingly, the entire family is yelling and demanding answers.

Well, at least he won’t be the only one having a heart attack tonight.

#dp x dc #dead serious #they're 16 and 17 #danny says he wants a divorce at every mild inconvenience #danny has dozens of titles and damian has memorized every last one entirely to annoy him #they alternate between adorable cats and those heckling muppets #spice writes #dc x dp #danny x damian

[moronkombat]

Straight to it, Bi Han finds his wife dead 😘🥰😍

tw: character death, afab pronouns used

god this ask is blessed

Wind blows lightly, the breeze is warm and pleasant. Loose strands of pure ebony wisp past the curve of a cheek bone while eyes just as dark look to a gathering of flowers so perfectly planted. Bi-Han watches as petals fall limp and wrinkled, flora beginning the end of its life. There's a hand holding his, so much smaller than his own, yet the weight heavier than any mountain.

He hears her speaking and notices her adoring smile. She is beautiful, really, a grand masterpiece of humanity's kindness. Bi-Han loves her more than he can love anything else. She knows this, he never has to say it. He need only look upon her and his heart shines through his gaze.

They stood together in their garden as they always did before Bi-Han had to go. This their own little sanctuary where time stops. They should have never left that place.

Heart pounds in his chest, legs carry him faster and faster. Blood has spattered and drenched him while he runs through hallways that seem almost endless. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This meant to be between him and the Tengu and yet they have pulled that which is most precious to Bi-Han in its horrible grasp.

Ice continues to pierce those who stand in his way and the blood is so heavy upon his skin. He cannot stop, he must find her. Bi-Han knows the Tengu have her, they had told him as much. Their bodies are ripped and torn as the frantic man searches for his kidnapped wife.

The corpses have led him to some place dark but her light still shines through. There she stands, held by hands Bi-Han wishes to slice. Her eyes...she is terrified. She quivers and shakes while tears dirty her face. Bi-Han rages, an internal war erupts. Beast like eyes stare at the one who holds her from him and fingers twitch and become frigid.

"I'll kill you..." Bi-Han rasps through his bloodstained mask and everything within him begins to shake.

The Tengu looks at him, unafraid and resilient. He hums something that Bi-Han doesn't catch before eyes begin to crinkle into a smile.

"I know." He says. "But I will destroy you."

No! Bi-Han lunges forward, the ice that runs in his veins manifesting into life. Life really is a fickle thing. Blades catch the dimmed light of the room and beam with the strength of the sun. Sharpened and refined metal cuts through the air before it embraces flesh. Ribs begin to crack, blood begins to pour and her shriek lasts only but a moment before lungs are lacerated by a Tengu's wrath.

Blood flies through the air and paints a man most terrified. Droplets of her warm and scalding blood find themselves colliding onto Bi-Han's cheek as he reaches forward for her. Eyes widen while hers begin to fade dim. There's a scream. One inhuman and broken apart. As she falls, ice cuts through her attacker's throat and a life is ended.

Before that wretched Tengu body and even hit the floor, Bi-Han is cradling his dear wife who gasps and writhes in pain. His eyes look over her, blood is pooling from her wound even as his hands attempt to stop it.

"No, no, no, no-" Bi-Han panics, cold hands covered in burning crimson as a palm lays against her chest. "It's going to be alright, it's going to be okay-"

She knows he is lying but her words cannot form. Too trapped by the gasps for breath and cries of pain. Her blood is spilling faster now, it falls from her lips and runs down her chin like a flowing stream. The visage of him begins to blur until there is nothing but an obscured void.

"Stay with me now...!" his words all she has left to cling to but even they begin to echo and fade.

Her gasps, her pained whines...they are gone now. She is gone. An empty body is left in her place, limp and heavy. Bi-Han's eyes dart around her, a hand coated in red cups her cheek. He called out her name but she merely stares back at him with hazy eyes and bloody lips. Bi-Han's trembling body now crumbles apart and he cradles her just as he did when they were alone in that very special garden. The garden they never should have departed from.

He cries, he wails, begging her to speak to him, to hold him like she always did. She cannot, her body no better than the corpses he left behind. There's hurried clatter, the sound of footsteps approaching. Two younger brothers stand in the doorway, staring at the sight they should have never seen.

They stand together, Tomas and Kuai Liang looking at each other. Both are unsure of what to say as they watch their eldest brother sob and hold onto an empty husk of what was once the love of his life.

Bi-Han's mind is lost to him. He begs and pleads for her to awaken; he screams in the agony of pure destruction. The one he cries for cannot hear him. The wind blows lightly, the breeze cold and haunting.

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #bi han #mk1 bi han #bi han x you #bi han x reader

[melbatron5000]

Reality is . . . off

Here's me, screaming into the void. I've got no theory, only Clues.

Reality seems to be acting strangely in Season 2 of Good Omens. Mostly around Aziraphale. My examples:

This season seems to be from Aziraphale's point of view, and all the colors and lighting seem to be very bright and vibrant.

The note from Maggie -- another post on Tumblr (damned if I can find it now) pointed out that she puts her phone down right as Aziraphale comes into her shop for the first time. She seems to be texting him, but the text message arrives to his door as a note in the mail slot because that's how he expects to receive correspondences.

Changing the Bentley into Our Car -- and in the flashback to 1941 that happens after the trip to Edinburgh in the show, the Bently is still a four-door. He changed it and then made it so it always was that way. (There's a line in the book about someone being powerful enough to change something and then make it so it always was that way -- something that's repeated about the Book of Life, too. Hmm . . .) No wonder Crowley just opens up the back door to put his plants in, it's always had a back door at that point! And please don't @ me with the Bently is not a Clue -- the change happens right in scene, on screen. That was not a "they hoped no one would notice" moment. And yes, I know they weren't able to use Mary for the second season. They got a reasonable look-alike, and then changed that car into a four-door. For why??

The Bentley following him when he parks it. People have said, "Oh, yes, the Bentley is sentient, of course!" But it hasn't done anything to show that until after Aziraphale drives it. And don't @ me with the Queen -- the gag in the book says that any album left in a car for more than a fortnight transmogrifies into The Best of Queen. It's not the Bentley doing that, it's just a fact of Queen. (Can confirm.)

Aziraphale is terrible at magic. But somehow, when he really needs to make a trick work, he does it. Oh, yeah, babe? You just put that photo right up your sleeve slick as that? Hm.

That 25 Lazarii miracle. Neither of them expected that. Yet there it was.

The whole ball. He wasn't casting miracles, reality was just -- conforming itself to what he wanted.

Now my point is . . . I don't know. My observation is that reality seems to be following Aziraphale's wishes, and I don't think he even realizes that it shouldn't be. Not entirely. Or is it that he knows reality is re-shaping itself around him, and he's enjoying it?

Reality is not warping around Crowley in the same way, and Crowley seems to be able to feel something's wrong. Coming in waves, like a hangover.

Now, I have heard it said that Neil has also pointed out that our angel and demon warp reality just by existing. Okay, actually makes sense. How could an occult and celestial being not mess with reality without even realizing they're doing it?

Am I chewing on a nothing burger?

Is Aziraphale turned up somehow?

What is going on.

#good omens meta #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens fan theory #a half-baked idea #help I've fallen into a good omens theory and I can't get out

[restinslices]

Stay

Bi-Han x Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 1499

Summary: Just some sad angst about Bi-Han’s significant other leaving him from his POV. Inspired by that scene of Kaz telling Inej to stay and Inej saying she'll have him without his armor. You don't gotta know the scene to know what I'm talking about. Just follow the plot.

Bi-Han had a thousand thoughts spinning in his head and none of them wanted to quiet down.

He couldn't even focus on one. There were multiple voices in his head screaming at him, all of them wanting to be the loudest but all of them failing. It'd been like this ever since you made it clear that you were leaving.

Maybe some of this was his fault. No. Not maybe. This was his fault. He had become neglectful, and the edges he had became sharper and sharper. It seemed like he hurt you every time you got close.

Bi-Han being foolish and prideful thought it'd all go away. There was no need for deep talks, or breathers, or whatever else you managed to think of. He convinced himself it would all smooth over eventually. This was just a rough patch and it didn't seem to actually danger his relationship.

How wrong he was.

Time passed. Neglect built. Finally you two got into a huge argument and it seemed like this tipped the scales against him. You would be leaving.

He stood nearby but refused to look at you. Didn't matter though. His brain punished him anyway, making him relive the moment you slipped your ring off. It slipped off effortlessly, like it was always meant to come off. Like you two were always meant to fail.

Your stuff was gone, so he didn't understand why you were still here, but he didn't complain. You said something about grabbing a necklace, but he never saw you grab it and the last time he looked at you, you weren't wearing one.

Bi-Han had another problem besides his inability to look at you for an extended amount of time. His hands felt empty. He tried to pass time and fill that void by cleaning his mask with a hot rag, but it didn't work. It's not just that his hands were empty, it's that you weren't in them. It was weirdly funny when he thought about it. Bi-Han wasn't big on physical touch and whispering sweet nothings. He was capable of all the cutesy shit that was typical in relationships, he just didn't care for it.

But now? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and force you to stay. He wanted to whisper every sweet thought he had about you in your ear. He wanted to praise everything about you, and he didn't mean just your looks. He wanted to praise you about the stupidest things; your walk, how you pronounce certain words, your laugh, how you look when the sun hits you, everything. Anything to make you stay. But he didn't. He stayed silent and he assumed that silence bothered you based on your sigh.

“I guess this is it then” you spoke, and it made his heart clench in his chest as he realized this would probably be one of the last things he heard you say.

He made a small noise of acknowledgement in response.

“Am I to take your grunting as words?”.

“Goodbye” he forced himself to say, but the words came out through gritted teeth. He could hear your footsteps get closer until you were in front of him. Your soft hands touched his, only to slide his mask out his hands and onto the table. He couldn't help but look at you then, taking in and memorizing every feature you had. There were plenty of things you didn't like about yourself. You were only human after all. Bi-Han disagreed about all of it though. If there was one thing he was forced to look at until his final days, he'd choose you everytime. He was just really bad at showing it and he hated himself for it.

“Is… is there nothing else you want to say? Just 'goodbye’?”

“What else should I say?”. You nodded then and a small “ok” left your lips. His fingers started to itch the second you looked away, that emptiness making itself known again. He didn't have his mask in his hands anymore, so his fingers tapped against each other, wanting desperately to grab you.

You had only taken one step.

“Stay”.

He didn't mean to say it. He didn't even notice he said it until you turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Stay” he said more firmly. His hand grabbed your wrist as if that would trap you with him forever. The tapping stopped, finally content now that you were touching. “I want you to stay”.

“And if I don't want to?”

“I need you to stay”.

It went silent then and he wished he could read your mind. Your face gave nothing away but sorrow and as tough as he tried to act, he knew his face looked the same. “I want you…”. He meant to add something else, but what was there to add? He couldn't pinpoint what about you he wanted. He just wanted you. All of you. Good, bad, ugly. He wanted it.

“And how do you want me to be?” You said after a second. “Obedient? Obeying your will? Being at your side when it's convenient and behind you when it's not?”. He looked away, not able to take how your brows furrowed when speaking and his hand slipped from your wrist.

He felt your hand touch his cheek and move his face to look at you. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into your touch, finding comfort in how familiar your hand felt against him. The world was incredibly cruel. It gave him the power to freeze everything but time.

“Do you want me to stay silent? To take what you give me and ask for nothing more? To never speak up? To just accept life for what it is?”.

His eyes scrunched together. Each word felt like a dagger being twisted inside him. Your voice narrated his memories and all he could see was how many times he took you for granted. If he could, he'd beat himself over the head and yell at himself to keep you close instead of doing what was natural and pushing you away.

“I want you Bi-Han”.

His eyes opened then, hoping maybe you changed your mind.

“But I want something different. And you… I'm not sure you're capable of change”. Your hand slipped from his face and he immediately grabbed your hand. He was delusional. He hoped the physical contact could somehow reignite the spark. Stupid and wishful thinking, but he hoped the Elder Gods were listening and would answer his prayers.

“I can change” he managed to get out. It was a lot quieter than his previous words, even if he meant for it to come out powerful and assertive. Something had to change your mind and convince you to stay. He'd bring all your stuff back by himself if he has to. He just didn't want you to start moving again.

You sighed and shook your head, “you don't change. This is just who you are and I can't take that from you”.

“Stay with me. Don't go”.

“I thought the Grandmaster would never beg or plead”.

“I do”.

Bi-Han was taught from a very early age that Grandmasters didn't negotiate. They never begged or pleaded or showed any signs of weakness. They ruled over their clan with perfection and always stood tall. Unmoving. There was no such thing as weakness.

But he was so incredibly weak when it came to you. Grandmasters didn't beg or plead but Bi-Han did, and he'd beg over and over for you to stay if it'd work.

That's the thing though. It wasn't working and he knew it.

He was far too late.

“I hope you know I loved you Bi-Han”

“Loved?”

“I love you”

“Then stay”

You smiled then. A smile that had absolutely no joy in it. Only mourning. Your hand slipped out of his and you reached up to wipe away the tears he didn't even know had fell. He wondered why you weren't crying. Whenever you fought recently, you always seemed to cry. Sometimes it'd be a few tears, other times you'd storm away and he'd hear you sob. Did he exhaust you this much? You had no more tears to spill? Did he really push you that far past your limits?

“I hope in our next life we're different. I hope we spend forever together”. Bi-Han wanted to argue with you. He wanted to shout at you and tell you that all of that could happen in this life, but he didn't. You made up your mind. It was clear. He didn't know what to say anymore. You loved him and he loved you so how did he mess it up this bad?

Your hand lingered until it finally left his face for the last time. You walked away, and this time he didn't stop you.

He watched you as you went, replaying your life together in his head and what he should've done differently.

I tried to pick the least threatening gif I saw and that was actually difficult. Where is your kindness sir? Also why is the indented shit spaced out so ugly in the beginning? Summary and word count not having one long line is gonna haunt me.

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #bi han x reader #mk1 bi han #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #bi han imagine #subzero mk1 #subzero x reader #subzero x you #bi han angst #subzero angst #mk1 angst #idk what’s wrong with me #lin kuei

[thought--bubble]

In Need Of an Heir Part 3

Aemond (Canon Era) X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings after the cut.

In Need Of an Heir Master list

Canon Era Aemond Master List

Full Master list

Banners By @arcielee

Warnings: Forced marriage, panic attack(took from personal experience for this) Nothing else really 🥰

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I did get that promotion, by the way! (I am now a staff accountant. Yay! 🥳) prepping for finals was the opposite of a good time....(strategic management and policy form was actually a form of torture and not a class🫠🫠) one more semester until graduation! 💚💚

The end of that dinner could not have come soon enough, when it finally did come you and Royce were the first two to head out of the room.

Once you enter the corridor, your brother lets out a chuckle "Unbelievable"

"What?!" You snap at him, your soft, gentle demeanor starting to peel back.

"You'll be a princess in a few days' time." He taps her arm thoughtfully.

"Oh yes, such wonderful news, my warm and inviting future spouse has me weak in the knees" you hiss

Royce looks at you and raises and eyebrow "ahhh there she is. I was waiting for you to be the little storm I know you are"

You roll your eyes. "This isn't funny, Royce! That man is void of all emotion"

Royce looks around. "Keep your voice down. These walls have ears"

You huff, you know he's right, but at this moment, you just want to scream at anyone who will listen that you do not want this.

You and Royce continue back to your chambers in silence. You are hardly feeling sad or anxious anymore. The only thing you feel now is rage.

When you enter your chambers, Royce follows behind you.

"I know he seems......cold," he says as soon as the door closes. You shoot him a pointed glare as he chuckles, "but" he puts his finger to his chin as if in deep thought, "he may perhaps be different when the two of you are alone. He is a prince, he was raised to show the world a certain version of himself. I'm sure there is a different version of him that he would show his wife"

You again roll your eyes. Royce could be right, but you don't want to hear this right now. You just want to escape this situation.

He sighs. "All I'm saying is don't just assume the whole affair will be miserable"

"I just don't understand how father could still allow this to happen in the first place! What of the disrespect shown to our house? He murdered a messenger in our skies, kin may I mind you. Then, he runs off and marries a low born servant while betrothed to me!"

"That was a rumor from what I understand. No marriage took place. She was but a paramour, " Royce says as he pours himself some wine.

"Oh yes that's much better. A man of honor clearly" you look away from Royce jaw tight.

Royce chuckles again and shakes his head. "Men can be weak to the allure of women do not take it as a personal affront."

You grit your teeth. " I am not taking it personally. I am taking it as a testament to his lack of moral fiber"

Royce sighs and gives you an annoyed look before running his hand down his face. " You needn't love the man. Just act as a faithful wife and a kind and just queen, and when the time comes, a loving mother." he sits down in the armchair before the hearth. "Just perform your duties and stay out of his way"

"You wouldn't understand, you will marry some noble woman who will answer to you, you are not the one who will be at the mercy of some Targaryen psychopath who burnt down half the realm in anger! Do not try and pretend to understand the situation in which I find myself and the very real dangers I now face!" You calm yourself and look at Royce with despair."Is there truly no way out of this?"

He looks at you with sympathy. "With this marriage, Baratheon blood will sit the iron throne. There is no way out of this, I'm afraid"

"Life as a broodmare..... lucky me"

"You will be queen of the seven kingdoms .."

"A broodmare dressed in jewels is still a broodmare." You sigh and look toward the bedchamber.

"I wish to retire." You feel exhausted and defeated

"Very well," he says as he stands. "Since you can not change your situation, I would suggest you find the good in it." With that statement, he leaves your chambers.

You roll your eyes as you hear the door close.

'The good in it,' you think to yourself,'how exactly do I find the good in a situation in which I have no power or control?"

The next few days went by in a whirlwind. The lack of time to prepare for the wedding had the dowager queen Alicent scrambling to have as much of what was expected of a royal wedding as possible. You were constantly being dragged to dress fittings, while Alicent stood approving or denying the fabrics and designs of the dress. You stood there like a mannequin. Not one choice was yours. Not the dress, not the jewelry, not the hair style and certainly not the groom.

A groom which you had seen none of. There was no courting or getting to know eachother you simply prepared for the wedding with the dowager queen, and he was off doing something else you knew nothing of. You would be married off to a man you have only ever greeted.

This had you in a state of mild disassociation. You simply existed in your day to day movements instead of living in them.

The day before the wedding started like all the others. Invited to tea first thing with the dowager queen. You made your way through the winding corridors, having memorized the path from your apartments to hers.

As you come upon her door, you tap lightly. One of Alicents serving girls answers the door and ushers you in.

"You come around the corner to see the dowager queen sitting in her usual stance teacup in hand. " she smiles up at you gently as she waits for you to take a seat.

"So I think we are as prepared as we are going to get. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, so..... I think today will be a good time for you to take some rest."

You squint your eyes at her in disbelief. "Hmm" is all you manage to say.

"Though" she starts, and you think to yourself, "Here it comes' "there is one thing I hoped to discuss with you. Since your mother is unable to get here in time, I wished to......... guide you. . .. through the requirements of your wedding night"

You inwardly cringe at the mention of your wedding night. You had been taught as a girl growing up about the coupling that will take place between a man and his wife. How important it is to consummate your marriage, and it is certainly not something you wish to discuss with Alicent.

"Oh " is all you can manage to say as you wring your hands in your lap.

"Aemond will guide you just listen to his instructions, and you will be fine. Don't be nervous or scared, " you can tell she is trying to bring you comfort, but it only serves to make you more uncomfortable.

"I understand this is a subject he is quite educated on already." You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth and close your eyes. "My apologies, your grace, that was most inappropriate"

She sighs and looks down at her lap as she picks her fingers. "It was....but I can understand your distaste for impropriety." she places her teacup down and makes direct eye contact with you. "I ask only that you do not judge him too harshly. A man at war is under an immense amount of stress and may make poor decisions. He is a good man, though, my son, and I have not one doubt it my mind that he will be a good husband."

You nod desperate for this conversation to end so you can take your leave.

She sighs again as she eyes you up and down. No doubt trying to dicern your thoughts. "Very well. You may go. Do take a walk through the gardens. They are most beautiful and are a wonderful place to clear one's thoughts"

You thank her for her hospitality before you curtsey and gently walk out of her apartments. The moment you enter the corridor, you place your hand over your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart.

You are chastising yourself in your head for speaking so out of turn with the dowager queen. 'What was I thinking? What if she tells him? What if he takes great offense?'

"Ugghhh"

"Is everything alright, my lady?"

You close your eyes and freeze before slowly turning around and coming face to face with your future husband. You have been so busy fighting this arrangement that you had not taken the time to properly look at him, but here, in front of you like this, you can not help but gaze at him.

Tall and lithe. Long bonde hair top half pulled back . Sharp jawline and high cheekbones. His one purple eye boring into you.

"Oh... yes, my prince just.....ummm big day tomorrow"

"Hmmm," he clicks his tongue as he looks you up and down. "Are you due to visit my mother?"

"Oh no, just left her company, actually," you shift nervously from one foot to the other.

"Very well then, I will keep you no longer." he walks past you and gently knocks on the door to Alicent's apartments.

You perform a small curtsey and then continue to make your way down the corridor. Before rounding the corner, you look back at the man standing before his mother's door. His long slender frame stood perfectly poised with his slim waist and long arms tucked behind him.

You feel your cheeks warming up slightly as you look at him, a small smile coming to your face before you come to your senses, turning quickly and continuing toward the gardens.

You reach the gardens quickly and look for a place to sit. You decide to sit by some rose bushes and start to laugh, thinking to yourself,

'I'm marrying a Targaryen prince, a mass murdering kinslayer. Who I am just now noticing is most pleasing to my eyes.' You put your face into your hands.

"I've gone daft"

"You've always been daft." Your head shoots up to see Royce standing over you.

"May I not have a moment where a man doesn't just sprout from the ground unannounced!"

He looks at you quizzically but just shrugs it off. "I wanted to see you on this your last day of being unwed"

"That is most kind, brother, but at this moment, I would like to be alone with my thoughts"

"I will be leaving quickly after the wedding. I really would like to spend some time with you. I do not know when I shall see you again"

You feel a pang of sadness in your chest. Once Royce leaves, it will just be you and the Targaryens. You'll be a little storm surrounded by dragons.

You spend the entire afternoon with Royce. Instead of talking about your upcoming marriage, you choose to reminisce about your shared childhood at storms end. How you used to sneak out to watch Royce's sword training lessons or how you used to steal Cassandra's hairbrushes and hide them throughout the castle just so you could watch her and her serving girls as they looked for them frantically. The nights when there would be a particularly strong storm outside you and your siblings would sit together and watch strikes of lightning cross the sky and enjoy just being in eachothers presence without having to say a word. The memories fill you with joy as well as grief.

You never realized how important these moments were when you were in them. But now that they are just memories and you know you won't be making any more memories like this, a feeling of finality settles over you.

You have supper in your chambers, just Royce and you, and once he leaves and your chamber maid helps you out of your dress and into sleep clothes you get in bed and lay down staring at the canopy above you.

Everything changes tomorrow. You leave house Baratheon the only thing you have ever known, and join house Targaryen. Royce will leave, and it will not just be you and your new family. Your new husband

You fought with yourself all night, willing to sleep to come, and when it finally did, it felt like simply a blink of the eye before you were being woken up, 3 chamber maids bustling about your chamber.

"Good, Morn, my lady." Amber greets you delicately. "We have a bath prepared for you"

"What of breaking fast?" You groggily grumble, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes.

"After the bath, my lady.... lots to do today. " Amber stands beside the bed hands clasped in front of her as she waits for you to get out of bed.

"Yes, ok, you are right." You sit up and look around your chamber. There are 2 more chamber maids assisting amber with filling the tub. They have the tub filled and seem to just be waiting for you.

You slide your feet off the side of the bed, and they hit the cold floor. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, your stomach a mix of knots and nervous queasyness.

You stand up and head over to the tub. You put one finger in the water. It is warm and inviting but you hesitate. Completing this bath is one step closer to the Sept. Every single thing you do today is one step closer to that damned Sept.

Your legs begin to wobble a bit beneath you.

"My lady?" Amber asks while looking at you with a concerned gaze.

"Let's get this over with" you strip from your night clothes and sink into the warm water and the three maids surround you a maid on each side scrubbing your body while amber is washing your hair.

It's all so dehumanizing. Being scrubbed and polished. Like some kind of jewel or prize for your new husband. You stare blankly ahead as the maids do their duty lost in your thoughts.

When your bath is complete, you are dried off and changed into a very basic gown. No doubt so you can have your morning meal before the real poking and prodding begins.

You try to eat but end up mostly just pushing food around your plate. Once you finally admit defeat and accept the fact that you are not going to get much more down besides a lone strawberry and a few grapes the real preening is ready to begin.

First Amber combs and braids your hair. A beautiful design of twisted braids accented by little white flowers she placed along the crown of your head.

Before you even have time to marvel at the beauty of it, you are dragged off to be fitted into your wedding gown one final time.

As the soft fabric of the dress sails across your skin, it suddenly feels suffocating, stifling. You start to push at the fabric, trying to get it off.

"My lady?" Amber asks concerned

"I ... I can't wear this.... I can't do this!" You start pushing on the fabric more forcefully desperate to remove the garment.

"My lady we haven't much time left-" Amber is cut off by your screams

"You think I'm unaware of how little time is left?" You bark at her, shoving the fabric off of your arms, watching as the dress pools around your feet.

Your breathing is fast and your head is spinning.

"I'll get the dowager queen" one of the maids says frantically as she goes to leave the room.

"No!" Amber interrupts. "Get lord Royce"

The other maid nods and leaves the room

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have snapped at you that way," you say, clearly panicking. You look down at the gown.

"I.... I have to get dressed......" Your stomach lurches.

"Let's just take a quick break, my lady," Amber says, gently putting her hand out to you to help you step down from the pedestal you had been placed on.

You nod furiously. "Yes, a break. Yes, " your breathing begins to regulate as you step out of the dress and off the pedestal.

The first maid returns with Royce following closely behind. You look up at Royce eyes wide and burst into tears.

"Everyone out," he orders, and the maids all scurry from the room.

"Little storm," he says while walking over to you

"I can't, Royce. I can not do this"

He grabs you by the shoulders looking you directly in your eyes.

"You can do this, and you will. As is your duty to your house and the realm, storms don't bend they don't bow. They persevere"

You leap into Royce's arms "please Royce please don't make me do this"

"It is done, sister, you will be fine. You will be queen, and you will make the realm better for it"

He stays with you for a while gently rocking you while your breathing returns to normal.

"You're right. I can do this. He is but at man at the end of it all"

Royce just smiles at you. "Now I will send the chamber maids back in. Can't have you married in a chemise." He chuckles.

He takes your hand and helps you back up on the pedestal. You step into the dress as he leaves the room and quickly the maids return, and this time, the dress slips on. The corset tightened. The sleeves puffed. The skirts fluffed.

A beautiful sapphire necklace is placed on your chest, and the baratheon maidens cloak is placed upon your shoulders.

The maids leave the room as you stare at yourself in the long mirror.

Who is this woman? Certainly, isn't me. You run your fingers over the sapphire that sits on your chest. Such an odd choice. You would have thought of a ruby or even an emerald.

When the dowager queen enters to do a final check and approval of your appearance, you don't feel as scared or nervous as you did at the start of this day.

This is my duty, and I will complete my duty with dignity and poise.

You are then led through the corridors of the castle. A few maids accompany you. One holding your train the other your hand to keep you steady on your feet as you enter the courtyard.

There in the courtyard stands Royce in some of his finest clothes next to a carriage with the door open. The carriage that will bring you to the Sept. Your last carriage ride as an unwed maiden.

You take a deep breath and walk towards Royce head held high. As he takes your hand and helps you into the carriage. He then follows you in and closes the door behind you.

"You ready?" He asks

"Actually,... I think I am"

Part 4

To be added to taglist click here

#ewan mitchell verse #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #jess fics #prince aemond targaryen #possessive aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #my war criminal bf

[just-a-creep-babe]

Graveyard Shift - Part 6

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Commissioned again by @salixlantana <3 -- Thank you so much darling, I really hope you enjoy!! <33

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

She needs relief

It’s all she can think about as her touch moves further and further down her form

It’s been too long

The grueling hours at work, the stress of everything that’s been happening, the haze of paranoia seemingly always crowding her mind—it's been one endless void of anxiety and misery

She hasn’t been taking the time she needs for herself, and now that she’s opened up to the idea, the desire that crashes into her is sudden, intense and all too urgent

She presses a finger over her clit, a hushed breath escaping her as she does, and a flood of warmth spreads up her stomach, coiling into a knot of tension

Her thoughts wander, and she thinks back to the masked man—the pleasantly low hum of his voice, the sheer shape and size of him, the way he always seems to fixate on her—even despite his lack of eyes

She thinks back to his hands, rough and calloused and lined with dark veins, and she wonders what it’d be like if it was him touching her instead

She wonders about the warmth of his body, the firmness of his skin, the precision of his movements

Would he be rough, would he be hungry and impatient and eager to turn her into a quick mess?

Or would he be slow and gentle, pouring care and affection into every second of his touch gliding over her skin?

Her breath hitches in her throat, brows furrowing with concentration as she rubs herself over her underwear

Waves of pleasure shudder through her form, coaxing yet another breathless moan to escape her

Her back arches up, eyes fluttering closed and her lips parting as her empty sex clenches around nothing

She imagines she’s clenching around him instead of nothing; around his thick length, throbbing and pulsing with veins similar to the ones on his hands

And the more she imagines it, the more she can feel her underwear grow slicker with arousal

Her body burns for his touch

From outside, through the open cracks of the curtains, Jack watches the scene unfold

He’s mesmerized by the sight—fuck, he can practically smell her from where he's standing

He shouldn’t be watching

He shouldn’t be gawking through her window like some kind of creep while she’s doing something so personal, so private and so intimate

But it’s the first time he witnesses her do something like that—he didn’t even know if she had those needs in the first place—and he just can’t look away

He’s entranced—like she’s put some kind of spell on him

Her face contorts with pleasure, her brows furrowing as she pants and gasps, her chest heaving with every labored breath

Jack tries to absorb every minuscule detail he can see from where he is

God, he’s fucking aching in his pants

Acting purely on instinct, he brings a hand to his bulge and starts palming himself through his jeans

He can't see beneath those damn sheets covering her body, but he still tries to imagine it, tries to imagine seeing her fully naked

Soft, warm and malleable; what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch her

What he wouldn’t give for the chance to eat her out, to have her hips rocking against his face as she tenses up and screams his name as she cums

He makes a low, husky sound without meaning to, increasing the pace of his hand over his pants to match the speed she’s using on herself

She grows closer and closer to release, judging by her louder, more eager moans and the way her whole body seems to be glowing

But then, right as it looks like she’s about to cum, she stops abruptly, her eyes flashing open like something’s interrupted her moment of bliss

Jack stops as well, freezing in place

Did she see him?

Did she somehow sense that she’s being watched, and it pulled her out of the moment?

He swallows thickly, trying to slink further back into the shadows

Guilt knots in his chest as he pulls his hand away from his needy cock

He shouldn’t stick around to see if he’s been caught—fuck, he shouldn’t have been peeking through her window in the first place

But despite his best judgment, he doesn’t leave

He stays rooted in place, curiosity getting the better of him

And then he watches as a mix of guilt and confusion flash across her face, not too dissimilar from what he’s feeling right now, and then, with a worried look, she stands and makes her way to the bathroom

He can’t see anything more when she closes the door behind herself, so he’s ultimately left with two options; either stay there like a sick kind of perv with an obvious boner, or call it a day and retreat home

He votes for the latter

Try as he might to forget about what happened on his way back to the mansion, he just can’t

She’s all he can think about

Those sounds she made—just barely audible through the window, the perfume of her arousal, the look of bliss on her face—he can’t—he doesn’t want to forget

He tries to act as inconspicuous as possible when he walks through the double doors of the mansion, and then he's quietly making his way through the various corridors of the haunted building

When he’s finally back in his room, he shuts the door behind himself and thinks, Fuck

He doesn’t know what to do

He’s so pent-up

His sight drifts to his bed, and he considers finding relief the most obvious way he can

But with the memory of her touching herself firmly locked in his mind, he’s worried it’ll trigger a heat—something he actively tries to avoid as much as possible

Hunt

He hasn’t eaten in a while, and it’s probably aggravating his instincts

He should go for a hunt

Not wasting a second longer, he grabs the few things he needs, and then he’s going back down through the mansion and heading out through the same doors he walked in through

The whole way to the nearest big city, he can’t stop replaying the scene over and over again in his head

She looked so divine—she smelled so delectable

His mouth salivates at the memory, and he silently prays eating will be enough to satiate his hunger for her body, even though it’s starting to seem like a long shot, at this point

As usual, he maneuvers his way to the wealthier neighborhoods, then follows his nose to the most appetizing scent

While there are usually more meats to choose from in the slums of the city, he could never forgive himself for taking from people who already have so little

The wealthier, he’d decided long ago, could probably more easily afford healthcare for whatever damages he does to their systems

His instincts lead him to a decently-sized apartment complex, which he manages to slip in with relative ease

The interior is a wide open space with carpeted floors, beige walls, and an elevator at the front and center of it all

He spots a few cameras here and there, but with his hood thrown up over his head to cover his mask, he isn’t too worried about raising alarm—if there even is someone up so late to watch the cameras

And after the many, many years of sneaking into places he shouldn’t be allowed in, getting caught isn’t something he worries about anymore anyways

Opting to stay away from the elevator, he instead takes the stairway at the far left of the building, and lets his senses guide him all the way up

He reaches the fourth floor, where the scent seems to be the strongest, then makes his way through the hallway until he comes across the right door

With a simple credit card trick, he unlocks the door, slips inside, then quietly turns the lock behind himself

Even though it’s completely dark inside, he can still see perfectly fine, so he has no trouble maneuvering around the kitchen and to his victim’s room

Door left wide open, he can see the shape of a woman’s body under the covers, her breathing slow and steady in her sleep

He steps through the threshold of the door, then gently makes his way to her side

He’s about to administer the sedative, when he notices her hair is the same length, color and texture as (y/n)’s hair

He pauses in his tracks, taking a closer look at her

Fuck, even the shape and size of her body are similar

For a split second, he almost wonders if it’s somehow her

It’s not possible, and he knows it’s just his mind playing tricks on him, but he wants it to be real

He wants it to be her so that he can pull her body against his and press his mouth to her skin before tasting her—tasting all of her

The idea snaps him out of his hunter’s trance, but he quickly tries to shake the thought away

He shouldn’t get distracted

He presses the needle in, piercing through her skin, and she makes a low, quiet noise from the back of her throat in an unconscious response to the intrusion

Crap

Immediately as she does, he’s flooded by a wave of perverse desires

What if he made (y/n) moan like that—moan so much louder than that?

Coupled with the view he had of her just a very short while ago, it’s enough for him to lose focus and fuck up the injection

It’s just a split-second mistake, but it’s more than enough for the woman to wake up

He hasn’t fucked up in so long, it actually surprises him just as much as it surprises the woman that there’s a masked figure standing over her bed

When he manages to gather himself, so does she, and while he’s panicking between either talking her down or restraining her to finish the injection, her survival instincts kick in

He doesn’t expect her to act so quickly

He especially doesn’t expect her to grab the lamp from her nightstand and smash it into him

With a grunt, he stumbles back, dazed by the impact, and it gives the woman the perfect chance to scream, throw something else at him—a book, this time—and then jump out of her bed and make a run for it

He can’t reach her before she rushes through the door because of the bed acting as an obstacle, and when he manages to catch up to her, she slams the bedroom door against him

He stops it before it can knock him into a daze again, but doing so grants her just barely enough time to get to the kitchen and pull out a knife

Great

Between fight, flight or flee, it seems she’s chosen to fight—the most tedious instinct to deal with

Both hands tightly clutching the knife in front of her, she stands in front of him, courageously blocking him even despite the way she’s shaking

He can smell the fear and adrenaline pumping through her system

“What—what do you want?”

Her voice is uneven, panic clogging her throat, and there’s a wild look in her eyes, like that of a trapped animal

He doesn’t bother answering

He simply takes a menacing step forwards

He, again, doesn’t expect her to mimic that step and then try to violently slash the knife into him

Her movements, however, are clumsy and inexperienced, so it isn’t difficult for him to catch her wrist and block her attack

And with one final step closer, he jams the needle into her neck and finishes the injection

She croaks, making a horrible choking sound as he drains the remaining sedative inside her veins

Her body goes limp as she slowly loses muscle control, and he finally drops his guard, letting himself relax as the situation returns under control

He catches her before she falls to the floor, and holding her in his arms like that, so up-close and personal, gives him as much time as he wants to properly inspect her features

She’s, admittedly, pretty, but she doesn’t nearly hold any of the subtleties or fine details that make (y/n) so appealing

She doesn't even compare to (y/n)'s perfection

Still, the whole thing has him thinking about what it’d be like if it was (y/n) he was holding instead of just some random woman

If (y/n) was in his arms, her face just inches away, what could really stop him from pressing his lips to hers if he wanted to?

He, again, imagines her taste, her body flush against his, her moans and whimpers and expressions as he touches her, as he pleases her

He gets too distracted again, too lost in his fantasies, and he doesn’t even think to consider that the syringe might not have been as effective with only half of it properly injected

Because with one final struggled breath of effort, the woman reawakens, jerks her arm up, and the knife still clutched in her hand plunges into Jack’s ribs

He hisses, letting her fall to the hard wooden floor as he stumbles back

Pain bursts through his chest, knocking the wind out of him

He reaches out to the hilt where blade meets flesh, and he grunts as he feels the familiar warmth of blood rush to his wound

Shit

Even though he desperately wants to yank the damn thing out, he has more than enough medical knowledge to know that he shouldn’t

He looks at the girl, now fully passed out in a heap on the floor, and debates whether or not he should even bother to extract her organs at this point

Fuck it, it’s not even worth it

His hands won’t be as steady as usual, and he could very much so risk injuring her—more than he otherwise would’ve

He’s caused enough damage as is

He looks back at the wound again, debates the chances of his body healing faster than the risk of major blood loss if he pulls it out all at once

But she really didn’t miss her target, and the wound is deep

Blade buried all the way to the hilt, the damn thing must be at least five to six inches, and he can’t really tell if it punctured any crucial organs

Relax, he thinks, just relax and think things through

He needs to get out of here, he decides, it’s his first priority right now

This whole thing is bound to get even messier if he waits too long

With a grunt, he pulls himself together, standing and straightening himself out, and then he makes for the door to the hallway

He closes it behind himself, praying he won’t run into anyone on his way out, because he just can’t imagine they’ll have a positive reaction to seeing some guy wandering around with a knife in his gut

But, of course, just his luck, as he turns a corner down the hallway, he nearly bumps directly into someone

Jack tries brushing past them before they see anything, but despite his best efforts, he can’t conceal the injury, and he hears them gasp as they notice his predicament

The stranger’s about to rush forward to help, but when Jack looks up, the sight of his faceless mask and dripping eye sockets make them scream

In a heartbeat, the stranger turns and runs, leaving behind the all-too-familiar scent of stress, fear and adrenaline in their wake

Great, just fucking great

He tries to move faster through the building after that interaction

The pain is, thankfully, manageable, thanks to his body’s natural resilience, but by the time he's made it back down to the first floor, his rushed movements have only further aggravated the wound

And it’s starting to hurt like hell

Still, even once out of the building, he doesn’t give himself a chance to rest

No doubt that guy called the police by now

He doesn’t have time to waste

He slinks into the shadows of the neighborhood, thankful for the fleeting cover of nightfall, even as the horizon begins to turn pale

And then he makes it to the one place he can think of going

(Y/n) wakes up to the sound of rasping at her door

She opens her eyes, and lays there for a second or two, wondering if she just dreamt up the noise or if it was actually real

And, without fail, the sound returns, like something grating against the wooden framing of her door

She gets up, tentatively pushing her covers off, then makes her way to the front of her house

It’s in the very earliest hours of the morning, maybe around five or six, so she can’t imagine whatever’s behind her door is anything but trouble

A lump forms at the back of her throat at the thought

Again, the sound reverberates in her house

Her heartbeat spikes, nerves jumping to high alert

She tries to take a peek at what’s behind her door by craning her neck to look out the window

But the angle just isn’t right, and she can’t properly see anything

Again, the noise rings out, but it almost sounds quieter, more hesitant, this time

(Y/n) tries to swallow down her anxiety

With a shaky hand, she wraps her fingers around the doorknob and slowly turns it open

Even though, at this point, she should probably expect it to be him, she’s still surprised when she comes face-to-face with the person at her door

“Jack?”

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #crp

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates Part 7

Hey guys! We're almost back to where we started and I fix a glaringly obvious plot hole. Why use alcohol to make Molotov cocktails that could back fire and hurt you when FLARE GUNS FUCKING EXIST AND HAVE FOR DECADES IN THE 1980s?!

GIF by thehound-and-thebird

We also get Eddie and Steve having a moment in the bathroom of Max's trailer. And the reason Eddie didn't want to use his handkerchief.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1|Pt 2|Pt 3|Pt 4|Pt 5|Pt 6|

****

Steve looked back over his shoulder and into Eddie’s eyes. “We need music!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet. “Robin! We need music!”

They both turn and run into Eddie’s bedroom, rummaging through his stack of cassette tapes.

“What the hell is this?” she held up Iron Maiden. “Where’s the real music? Blondie, Madonna, Cindy Lauper...”

Eddie snatched the tape from her. “This is real music!”

Dustin came running in. “Hey guys! You really need to hurry!”

Then they heard it, Steve and Lucas harmonizing. Eddie grabbed his acoustic and ran out there. He listened to them for a moment and then started playing. It was rough and barely music, but it worked.

Nancy gasped, startling to life.

Steve pulled her in for a hug as everyone breathed a sigh of relief. She babbled about monsters and guilt and horrible visions of the destruction of everything she held dear.

“Let’s get you topside,” Steve murmured, “and we can talk about what this all means.”

They got everyone out of the Upside Down and safely over to Max’s trailer.

Steve was exhausted. He just wanted to take Robin and Eddie and run. None of them had skin in the game. Nancy had made that clear enough. Over and over again.

They also weren’t going to listen to him. He felt like he was screaming into the void. Echoless and empty. His last nerve had been beyond frayed for the last five days. He just wanted to rest.

“Fine.”

Every head snapped his direction.

“But if we’re going to do this,” he growled, “we’re going to do it properly. We need weapons and supplies. And the four of us,” he pointed to the older teens that had been in the Upside Down, “need showers and food. Also, in case anyone forgot,” he pointed down at his ripped and badly bandaged torso, “I need to have this properly bandaged so I don’t bleed out at a crucial moment!”

The silence was deafening.

Nancy folded her arms and rocked back on one heel, staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “I did forget you were injured. Let’s get everyone all cleaned up.”

“And I know where to get supplies,” Eddie said softly.

Steve turned to him and nodded. “Let’s get us all cleaned up, did anyone think to grab Eddie some clothes while we were at his trailer?”

All he got in return were blank stares. Steve pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets as he fought the urge to scream.

“I’ll go!” Max said. “I’ll be less likely to be noticed poking around.”

Eddie grimaced he wasn’t sure how he felt about Red getting into his underwear drawer, but she was right. Anyone else would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

He watched as she snuck back out and then turned to Steve. “We need to get you taken care of first. There won’t be much hot water for the rest of us, but Stevie here needs it to clear out his wounds.”

Robin and Nancy nodded.

“Fucking demobats,” Dustin huffed.

Steve snapped his fingers. “I knew they would be called demo-something. It’s always demo-something.”

Dustin turned to him slowly. “What did you think they were going to be called if not bats, Steve?”

Steve shrugged. “Some kind of bird, I don’t know.”

Suddenly there was an uproar from almost everyone. Except Eddie.

“Why would you think that, Stevie?” he asked over the din.

“Because demogorgons don’t look like demogorgons and you originally thought the demodogs were some new species of reptile, so how I was supposed to know you were actually going to name it what it looked like.”

“What does their version of a demogorgon look like?” Eddie asked, suddenly curious.

“Tall, thin, leafy, with a head that opens like a Venus fly trap,” Robin said excitedly.

Eddie turned to Lucas and Dustin and raised an eyebrow. “That sounds more like an umber hulk than a demogorgon. You know, the thing with tentacles and two heads?”

Lucas shrugged. “We were like eleven years old when named it and hadn’t had a lot of experience with the game yet.”

Eddie nodded. “Fair enough.”

He tugged on Steve’s arm and led him into the bathroom.

“Strip and into the water, pretty boy,” Eddie said, turning on the shower. “I’ll go grab some towels and the first aid kit.”

Steve nodded. He gently took off the denim vest and set on the sink. Eddie’s expression softened and smiled.

He got back out just as Max had returned.

“I grabbed two pairs of boxers,” she said. “One for you and one for Steve. I hope that was okay.”

“Just what were you doing in Eddie’s underwear?” Lucas asked, wide eyed.

Max rolled her eyes. “Eddie hasn’t been able to change his in almost a week and that lake water can’t have been good for Steve, so I made an executive decision.”

Eddie grabbed the backpack she had used to stuff the clothes in with a thankful smile. “One I deeply appreciate, Red.”

He also got the first aid kit from her and went back into the bathroom. Steve was as clean as he could get all things considered. He was toweling off his chest when Eddie came in.

“Red brought you a change of underwear, if you don’t mind wearing some of mine,” he muttered.

“As long as they’re clean, Eds,” Steve said, “I would wear Tommy H.’s at this point.”

Eddie chuckled. “Fair enough. I just didn’t want to offend your rich boy sensibilities.”

Steve scoffed. “I don’t have any of those anymore. The Upside Down has a lovely way of getting rid of that kind of shit, fast.”

Eddie nodded, but turned away so Steve could pull on the boxers.

“Thank fuck,” Steve muttered. “I prefer briefs, but they’re dry and that’s like heaven right now.”

Eddie turned around and breathed through his nose. Seeing Steve in his boxers was really doing something for him that it really shouldn’t.

“Let’s get those wounds wrapped up,” he said hefting the first aid kit.

Steve nodded. He leaned up against the sink and let Eddie put on gauze and proper bandages on the wounds on his sides.

“I hope wherever you plan to get supplies has shoes, man,” Steve said as he struggled to put on the sweats, “because I really need to stop running around barefoot.”

Eddie looked down at Steve’s feet and back up at Steve. “Shit. You walked all through the forest and to Nancy’s house barefoot and then rode a bike all the way to Forest Hills, again WITHOUT SHOES?!”

Steve blushed. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big deal, Stevie,” Eddie huffed, “is that you’re our tank and if you are too hurt to protect the squishy ones, then everyone gets hurt, okay?”

Steve nodded. “Sorry. They don’t usually care.”

Eddie looked back at the closed door and then back at Steve. “I think you’re wrong. But if you don’t tell them you’re hurt, they can’t take care of you.”

Steve nodded again, he went back out there while Eddie took his turn. Quickly get the worst of six days of being on the run off of him. He merely rinsed his hair out of the dirt and whatever the hell that shit is that is constantly falling in the Upside Down.

He stepped out and dried himself off, using the towel Steve used. It didn’t look like Max had a lot of towels and they still had Robin and Nancy to get through.

He run his hair out and got dressed. When he pulled out the Metallica t-shirt and the one pair of black jeans he owned that didn’t have rips in the knee, he almost wanted to kiss her forehead. God, this was perfect. She even put in socks. He put his shoes on and yeah, they were still kinda wet, but it was much better than everything being kinda wet.

Nancy went next and then Robin, each girl just taking the time they needed to get the Upside Down off of them.

Eddie pulls out a phone book and lays on the table. He goes flipping through it and lands on the section for camping gear and guns.

He points to the biggest ad. “This is where we are going to get our supplies, it will have everything we need. Guns, ammo, whatever you need to take this bastard out.”

Steve pressed up against Eddie and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was pointing at. The War Zone.

“What about alcohol?” Robin asked. “Last time we used Molotov cocktails to take out these monsters.”

“Yeah!” Dustin said. “Fire works great on these guys. And the further away we are to light them up, the better.”

“So flare guns,” Eddie said nodding. “They’ll have those too.”

Nancy and Dustin shared a confused glance.

“What’s a flare gun?” Nancy asked.

Eddie looked around at all the confused faces. “You’ve seen the flares they shoot up when someone is in distress right?”

There were a couple of nods.

“Those are fired from guns,” he explained. “Essentially they are fireworks in a gun.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, “we’re going to want a lot of those.”

There was a murmur of agreement from everyone.

“Now all we need is transport,” Nancy said. “We don’t have bikes for everyone.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “I’ve got that covered, too.”

Steve frowned. “What, have you got a car hidden around here somewhere?”

Eddie straightened up and smiled at him. “It’s not a car, and it’s not mine. But it’ll do.”

Steve frowned, but Eddie turned to Max. “Hey you got a bandanna or a mask I can use?”

Max tilted her head and looked up. “Yeah, I’ve got something.”

“Why don’t you use your own hankey?” Nancy asked, pointing to his back pocket.

He held it up. “You mean this? The thing that has been through Lover’s Lake and the Upside Down and I’m pretty sure the smell alone would kill me?”

Nancy blinked for a moment and then waved her hand in concession.

When Max came out of her bedroom carrying the mask, Eddie grinned.

“You’re my favorite.”

“Hey!” Dustin protested.

But Eddie and Max just grinned.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

And if you saw this last night, no, no you didn't. Boops distracted me.

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