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mc-lukanette · 5 months

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After spending all of her teenage years as Ladybug, Marinette had thought that nothing could surprise her anymore. The magical earrings had chosen her a long time ago and, as an adult, she practically had all of Paris mapped out in her head. If she needed to go anywhere, she could do so in minutes.

That was exactly what she was doing, using her yoyo to swing from building to building as she made her way home. She'd just wrapped up some typical hero things - stopping a bank robbery, saving a kitten in a tree, the usual - and was looking forward to some rest at home.

Her eyes had long since grown adjusted to picking out the smallest details even while she swung along, so when she caught sight of what appeared to be someone lying face down in an alleyway, she stopped immediately. Letting herself drop down to the ground, she backtracked the small distance on foot and hesitantly peeked into the alley. Despite any horrors she may've seen in her line of "work," she still wasn't good with horror, so she hoped it wasn't a dead body.

It wasn't, but what she did see still had her jaw dropping. There in the alley was a merman, who must've somehow wound up there so far from the ocean. His black and blue hair obscured his face, but she was certain he was unconscious. There weren't any visible wounds to speak of and his body didn't react to being shook or poked.

Ladybug tapped her cheek in thought. Merfolk were rare enough that she didn't know much about them, but she could guess that he'd gone long enough without water nearby. That was the nice possibility anyway, and she preferred not to think of the other.

Thanking herself for her indoor pool at home, she grabbed one of the merman's arms and slowly settled it on her shoulder, trying to lift him into a carrying position. She could feel the thump of a heartbeat when her hand briefly touched his chest and was reassured for certain that he was alive at least.

——

Upon letting the merman down in the shallow part of her pool, Marinette pulled up a seat and tried to focus on a sketchpad in her lap. It probably - no, definitely - looked weird seeing someone handling a simple paper and pencil near water, but she needed something to do and wasn't inclined to leave the merman by himself.

...Pool water is fine, right? she wondered as she idly scribbled. If anything bad happens to him, are there merfolk police that will come after me?

It occurred to her again that she had no idea how he got there. For all she knew, he was dragged out of the water and ditched somewhere, the thought of which making a shudder run through her spine. She hoped that he'd be able to understand a map at least, as then she could simply take him home.

That, of course, all hinged on the fact that he was friendly, but Marinette felt her instincts had been honed enough by then to be able to tell. She'd offered him her pool - not that she used it anyway beyond practicing her aqua powers and bringing nonexistent dates there to swim - so the ideal was that he'd realize she meant no harm. He wasn't restrained in any way, after all.

I should stop thinking about it, she resolved, having long since learned that such paranoia had gotten her nowhere. Then, she looked down and realized that she'd been sketching the pattern on his tail without thinking. Sighing at herself in faint embarrassment, she flipped to a new page and started again on a sketch not in the least involving merfolk.

She was barely a minute in when a single splash caught her attention. She looked up from her sketchpad, noting that the merman was starting to stir and move about. His tail must've given an involuntary twitch while he was waking up and hit the water.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing deep blue irises that slowly took in the room around him. They darted down to the pool underneath him, his tail intentionally swishing in the water this time, then his sight landed on her.

Marinette blinked, shoulders tensing. In all of her "infinite wisdom," she hadn't thought about how to strike up conversation yet. "...Hi?"

He blinked back, squinting, though she could tell that it was because he was still waking up. He pushed himself up tiredly with his arms, then pointed deeper into the pool and asked, "Do you mind if I swim over there?"

"What?" How was that his first question?! "U-um, sure? Go ahead!"

He took the invitation immediately, slowly adjusting his position to allow him to properly swim into the deeper part of her pool. She found herself inching towards the edge of her seat, head raised as she watched him effortlessly swim around. Had she had a swimming partner like that, trying to adjust to her aqua powers would've been a lot less difficult.

After a moment of moving about in the water, the merman emerged like he'd done the equivalent of a morning stretch. He looked refreshed, his eyes more focused as he moved his bangs out of his vision. "Thanks for saving me. I could've been in big trouble if you didn't find me."

His statements only brought more questions to her, both ping-ponging around in her head until she'd settled on addressing the latter first. "You weren't in trouble before?"

He swam closer to the edge of the pool - nearest to where she was - and rested his forearms there. "How much do you know about merfolk?" When she didn't answer for a few seconds, he took pity on her and explained, "We cast spells using our voice. I thought I practiced my shifting spell enough, but I ran out of magic before I could find my sister's place."

So it had nothing to do with water then, but exhaustion. Marinette's lips pursed, tapping her pencil against her sketchpad as she contemplated if it'd be offensive or not to ask the next burning question that'd surfaced in her brain. The merman stared, this time with curiosity, and her resolve broke to ask, "Um, does she... live at the aquarium or something?"

The way he flashed her a grin, as well as the slight shaking of his shoulders, gave away the almost laugh. Marinette flushed pink, desperate to defend herself.

"S-secretly, of course! I don't go to the aquarium but I know they don't have merfolk there!"

That got a snicker out of him, though he tried to hide it behind his hand. Once he'd calmed, he corrected her, "No. My sister lives with her human girlfriend here. She just has more practice using the shifting spell than I do." He smiled, just slightly shy as he admitted, "I've never been on land before, but I wanted to surprise her."

"Your sister lives on the land?" she pressed further, only growing more baffled the more he explained. "How great is this girlfriend? They must've known each other forever."

To her continued shock, he shook his head. "She started practicing the spell since she first saw her."

"What?!" Marinette didn't know how she went out to do generic heroism and came back with this. "So it was love at first sight?"

"Sound," he clarified, but quickly realized that wasn't descriptive enough. "Merfolk are so rare to see because most of us don't need to leave our groups. We hear the song in everyone's hearts and it tells us right away if someone's the one, so we fall in love quickly."

"Oh." That was all she could say at first, but when she thought about it further it made sense. She'd been wondering why he was so calm around her and willing to divulge such information. Now she knew: he'd already "heard" that she was trustworthy.

She blushed, faintly embarrassed at the idea of having her "soul" read. Unconsciously, she held the sketchpad against her chest, as if she were exposed and trying to cover herself.

"Sorry." He raised a hand in a gesture to show that he meant no harm. "I can't control it."

"It's fine," she assured, mentally digging a hole to bury the urge to ask what he thought of her song. Hurrying to change the subject, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"Mm." He had an expression that said he didn't know. Looking away, he ran a hand through his wet hair, mulling over his potential options. "I guess I'll have to go back and practice more, since I can't stay human long enough."

"Can't you just stay here?"

The merman's head jerked back to her, wide-eyed. "...Are you sure?"

Marinette put a hand over her mouth as if it would push back the words she'd already said. The hero instincts had kicked in, always encouraging her to put herself out there for others even if it was an inconvenience to her or overly-impulsive.

"Ah—" She genuinely thought about it since it was too late to take it back. "Yes? You could go to your sister's house from here once you feel better. Besides, you taught me about your kind and are going through all of this just to surprise someone, so..." She shrugged for lack of better reasoning. "I think I can trust you?"

He beamed. Putting both hands flat against the edge of the pool, he pushed himself up to sit on it, thus leaving him free to offer her a handshake. "Thank you...?"

The trailing off at the end was a gentle request for her name. She smiled back at him, getting off of her chair in order to kneel down next to him and shake his hand. "Marinette."

"Luka," he introduced in return.

She was sure that the pool's water had been cool, but his hand was warm.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #Merman Luka Couffaine

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brotrustmeicanwrite · 3 months

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How do you balance maintaining a consistent writing routine?

Oh boi if only I could actually do that. Ok here we go~

Writing Creating Consistently

Creating consistently is one of the biggest challenges for any creative out there, not just writers. But despite so many people experiencing the same exact problem there is no universal solution. And the reason for that is simple: every person is different and the reason behind their struggles are just as diverse as humanity itself. For some it’s just difficulty keeping a habit alive, for others it’s circumstances of life and for people like me it can even just be their neuro-type.

But it’s not like there’s nothing you can do. So, here are two ideas to try to write more consistently, for both the organised and the chaotic:

Journaling +

This idea works best for those who don’t struggle too much to keep a habit alive or those who already journal or do something similar regularly anyway. Basically all you do is add a daily writing task to your routine. It can be anything like writing a short paragraph, working on character details or even just researching something. What exactly you do doesn’t matter as long as you’re doing something. But the most important thing to keep in mind is to keep the task tiny.

Once we start doing something, more often than not, much more will follow naturally. But if we make the task too big, we risk ending up dreading it. For that reason, your daily task should be something easy that can be done in no more than 5 minutes. That way you’ll get the satisfaction of doing something almost every day and don’t disappoint and demotivate yourself with piled up days of being unable to fullfill your goals.

Tiny Book

This technique works best for the more chaotic (and/or audhd) type and is the one I personally use for both writing and art. The basic idea of this technique is to simply always have something on you to catch your random bursts of inspiration throughout the day. For most people this will probably be their smartphone and maybe one of those cheap mini pens with the rubber stylus at the end. If you don’t like the notes app or just writing stuff down in a text document (or a hundred separate ones) here’s some apps that I use(d in the past):

Obsidian - very similar to a notes app, except you can link documents and build your own little Wikipedia. Including the clickable links within text and all.

Concepts - gives you an infinite canvas to take notes and draw stuff like mind maps. You’ll need a stylus for this one if you don’t want to write with your fingers. There are in app purchases but you really don’t need them and I’m using the free version with no problems too.

Campfire Blaze - (also as website) is specifically built to plan and share your writing projects. It has a lot of pre built functions to plan characters, maps, lore, magic systems etc.

Story Plotter - very similar to campfire except the focus is on structuring your story. A lot of people swear by it but I personally can’t give much more details because it just isn’t my style of program.

If you’re more of the traditional type though, get yourself a small notebook to always (and I mean always) carry around. Preferably a durable one that fits in your pocket and has a loop for a pencil. Also I recommend using a short technical pencil with an eraser at the end to avoid having to carry that and a sharpener around. Remember, we want the most comfortable quick and easy access so it doesn’t become a hassle to always have access to your materials.

On that note,

Why oh why, IKEA, did you stop making those cute but sturdy notebooks? That’s it, we’re breaking up. Søstrene Grene, you’re my new paper supply girlfriend. You may be more dainty and delicate, less sturdy than Ikea, but at least you’re there for me.

Ok but seriously, tip for the artists: søstrene grene has those teeny tiny blank books with really nice paper (easy 100+ pages) that fit into even a women’s front pocket and are perfect for quick thumbnailing. Just make sure to enforce the binging by putting some washi tape ore sum around the edges and glue it down on the backing bc they fall apart easily.

Anyway

Happy writing creating <3

#writers on tumblr #writing #authors of tumblr #tumblr writers #writer on tumblr #writer problems #as always ignore my grammar #english is my 3rd language #and i do not know how punctuation works here #unhinged #writing advice #art #art advice #artists on tumblr #artist on tumblr

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layce2015 · 1 year

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Provenance

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

Dean was chatting up with a young woman the bar but he was only paying her half of the attention. Most of the time that he was talking to this lady, he would look up and see from across the place (y/n) talking to this tall, tan-skinned dark-haired man in a three piece suit.

The man smiled at (y/n) then the two laughed at whatever she said, this made Dean alittle angry as he felt boiling feeling in his chest. But he turned his attention back to the woman as they continued to talk until, eventually, she started to give him her number.

"Seven, Four, Two Zero." She said after Dean types it in his phone. "Seven, Four, Two, Zero. All right, you're in there. Perfect. So is that Brandy with a 'y' or an 'i'?" He asked her and he just happened to glance over to see (y/n) and the man walk closer to each other. The man's eyes roam over (y/n) before he nods over his shoulder and (y/n) nodded, a coy smile playing on her lips.

Sam, meanwhile, sits at a table strewn with papers as he looks through them. He gestures to Dean, who looks at him then gives him a 'wait' gesture as he laughs at something the woman whispers. Sam gestures again and Dean's smile drops. "All right, listen, I gotta go. Hold that thought, I'll be right back, okay?" He said and he looks around but lost sight of (y/n) and three piece suit guy.

Angry, he approaches Sam, as he carrys two beers. "All right, I think we got something." Sam said. "Oh yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little short leave, just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one." Dean said, faking a smile, as he gestures towards the women.

"So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?" Sam asked him. "Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?" Dean asked, grinning. "Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates." Sam said.

"Yeah, you can but you don't." Dean said and Sam looks up at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" Sam said and Dean clenches his jaw. "Nothing." Dean said and Sam looks around. "Where's (y/n)?" He asked. "Probably getting to know that three piece douche a little more." Dean grumbles and Sam looks up at his brother and raises an eyebrow

"Dean, you really need to figure this out." Sam said and Dean looks back at him. "Figure what out?" Dean asked and Sam scoffs in disbelief. "Nevermind." Sam mutters.

"Anyway....What you got?" Dean asked him, changing the subject. "Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all..." he said then he looks up and sees Dean looking around the bar before he looks back at the women at the bar.

"Dean!" Sam shouts and Dean looks back at him. "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside." Sam said as Dean drinks his beer. "Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." Dean said. "No. Dad says different." Sam said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked and Sam points at the map. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second one right here in 1945, and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one." Sam said.

"And now we got one. All right, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up til first thing though right?" Dean asked. "Yeah." Sam said as Dean looks up and then his face becomes serious. Sam gives him a confused look before he turns around to see (y/n) and the man coming out of the bathroom.

The man was straightening his tie and jacket while (y/n) was straightening out her shirt and fixing her hair. The two talked and the man smiled as he hands her a folded piece of paper and winks at her. (Y/n) smiles as she takes the paper and the guy leans in and gives her a passionate kiss.

"Good." Dean grumbles as he turns around. "Dean..." Sam said as Dean goes up to the women and talks with them. Sam sniggers and shakes his head at this, he loves these two with all of his heart but he couldn't believe how stupid these two were acting about their feelings to one another. He didn't understand how he could see it but Dean and (y/n) couldn't. Or maybe they could but they are just too stubborn to say anything.

He scoffs and takes a swig of his beer as Dean walks away with the two girls.

*(y/n)'s POV*

The next morning, Sam and I come up to the Impala and see Dean sleeping, slouched in the passenger seat and with sunglasses on. Sam and I walk around the car then I lean in and honk the horn. Dean jumps a foot in the air as Sam sits in the drivers seat and I get in the back seat, both of us laughing.

"Man, that is so not cool." Dean grumbles as he adjusted his sunglasses. "We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were....well...out..." Sam said as he looks over at Dean, who smirks. "Good times." He said and I shake my head.

"We checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas." I said. "All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something." Dean said. "The house is clean." Sam said. "Yeah I know, you said that." Dean said. "No, he means it's empty. No furniture, nothing." I said and Dean looks at us, confused.

"Where's all their stuff?" He asked us.

We parked at a art auction, which was held in this very large and nice house, and began to wander around. The three of us looking really out of place in our casual, rough clothing. "Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." Dean said after he takes some finger food from a tray on a table

"Can I help you gentlemen and lady?" A man asked us. Dean looks him up and down and then puts more food in his mouth. "I'd like some champagne please." He said, putting on a posh voice. "He's not a waiter." Sam said to him, sharply, as I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head.

"I'm Sam Connors." Sam said as he holds his hand out to the man, who just looks at him. Sam moves the hand he's holding out then points at me and Dean. "That's my brother Dean and our work partner, (y/n). We're art dealers, with Connors Limited." Sam said.

"You. Are...art dealers." The man said, disbelieving. "That's right." Sam said as I nod at him. "I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now gentlemen and lady this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list." Mr Blake sneers at us. "We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look." Dean said just as a waiter goes past with drinks on a tray.

"Oh. Finally." Dean said, swiping a drink from the tray. He turns back to Mr Blake, sniffs the glass, raises his eyebrows then turns and walks away. Sam and I hastily follow, shooting Dean dirty looks. "Cheers." I said to Mr Black before we walk off.

We check out the items for auction but then we become drawn to the painting of a family, which was kinda creepy looking. It was a family of five, two boys, one girl and the mother and father. The father seemed to be looking down at the girl and all of them had no smile on their faces, they all seemed pretty grim and dull....and creepy, did I mention that?

"I fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" A woman's voice asked the boys and I turn to see a sleek, classy, extremely good looking young woman in a black dress coming down a spiral staircase. We stare at her as she turns her back while taking the final part of the stairs. Sam turns back to look at the painting again and Dean, oogling, slaps Sam on the back and continues staring while I just look down at myself feeling even more underdressed.

"Well I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did." Sam said to the woman as she walks up to us. "Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake." She introduced. "I'm Sam. This is my....brother, Dean. And my friend, (y/n)." Sam said while Dean continues to stuff his face from passing trays.

"Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?" Sarah asked him. "I'm good, thanks." Dean said, in between mouthfuls, and I shake my head. "Just ignore him." I said to Sarah and she smiles at me before she turns to Sam.

"So, can I help you with something?" She asked him. "Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?" Sam asked her. "The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones." She replied.

"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asked her. But before she could tell us anything else, Mr Blake comes up to us. "I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." He said as he glares at us. "Why not?" I asked him. "You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave." He replied.

"Well we don't have to be told twice." Dean said, putting on his posh voice again. "Apparently you do." Mr Blake said, snidely. "Okay. It's all right. We don't want any trouble. We'll go." Sam said and we walk off.

"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean said, questioning, to Sam as we come up to the motel room. "Art history course. It's good for meeting girls." Sam said. "It's like I don't even know you." Dean said as he unlocks the door and we enter the room to see that it has this retro 70s disco fantasy theme

"Huh." The boys and I said together before we move into the room and began dumping our bags. "You sure you don't want the bed?" I asked Sam. "I mean, I can go purchase my own room or I can take the couch..."

"No, no, it's fine. I'll sleep on the couch." Sam said and I shrug. "Okay, if you insist." I said.

"What was...providence?" Dean asked Sam, curiously. "Prov-e-nance. It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past." Sam said. "Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..." Dean said as he snaps his fingers at Sam, smirking. "Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin." Sam said, smirking back.

"Not me." Dean laughs and Sam looks up at him then realized what he was getting at. "No no no, pick ups are your thing, Dean." Sam said. "It wasn't my butt she was checking out." Dean said and they exchange a look.

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information." Sam said, slightly annoyed. "Unfortunately, Sam, sometimes you gotta take one for the team." I said as Dean pulls out his phone and hands it to Sam. "Call her." He said.

After returning from his date with Sarah, Sam and I were at the table and looking through the papers Sarah gave him, while Dean was sitting on the bed while sharpening his blade on a whetstone.

"So she just handed the providences over to you." Dean said, questionable. "Provenances." Sam corrected him. "Provenances?" Dean said, haltingly. "Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers..." Sam replied.

"And?" Dean said, questioning. "And nothing. That's it. I left." Sam said. "You didn't have to con her or do any...special favors or anything like that?" Dean asked and I shake my head.

"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?" Sam pleads, annoyed. "You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit." Dean said, after giving a little laugh.

"Why?" Sam asked him. "So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that." Dean said and I shrug a bit. "He's not wrong, Sam. I could see it as well." I said and Sam looks at me then at Dean before he scoffs then looks back at his paper.

Dean and I look at each other for a moment, confused, just as Sam said. "Hey, I think I've got something here." Dean comes over as Sam holds out the papers. "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910." I read. "Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam said to us and Dean checks John's journal. "First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970." Dean reads.

"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it." Sam said and we all share a look. "So what do you think, it's haunted? or cursed?" I asked them. "Either way, it's toast." Dean said as he starts to get ready.

That night, Dean leaps and easily scales the meters high metal gates and sprints into the mist. "Come on!" Dean whisper-yells at us and we follow him.

Sam, wearing gloves, starts to disarm the security alarm and succeeds. "Go ahead." Sam said to me and I, also with gloves, pick the lock.

We shine our flashlights around inside, quickly searching for the painting. Dean spies it upstairs and we sprint up the spiral staircase. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, Dean flicks his switchblade and cuts the painting from its frame. We grab it and run out of that building as quickly as possible.

We get out onto a dirt road and throw the painting in the dirt. Sam and I were holding our flashlights as Dean readies the matches. "Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor." Dean said and he drops the match and the painting ignites, burning slowly.

The next day, Sam and I were in the motel room when Dean runs out of the bathroom. "We got a problem -- I can't find my wallet." Dean said, in a panic. "How is that our problem?" I asked him. "'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night." Dean said and Sam and I look at him, horrified.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam asked, terrified. "No. It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on." Dean said and we head out.

We hurry back at the auction house and look around, looking everywhere. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" Sam asked him, frustrated. Dean throws his hands in the air and we keep looking.

"Hey guys!" A voice said and we spin around to see Sarah. "Sarah! Hey." Sam said as he tries to act cool. "What are you doing here?" Sarah asked him. "Ahh, we....we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye." Sam said while Dean walks over to Sam.

"What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two." He said to him while Sam looks at Dean, confused. Dean then gets his wallet out of his pocket and I sigh and roll my eyes as I realized what he was doing. "Oh, Sam. By the way. I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you." Dean said as he pulls out some money and hands it to Sam.

"I always forget, you know." Dean said as he looks at Sarah while Sam looks at him, disbelieving. Sam takes the cash from him and glares at him. "Well (y/n) and I'll leave you two crazy kids alone, we gotta go do something...somewhere." Dean said as he grabs my arm and we leave, quickly.

Dean and I were sitting outside by the Impala, waiting for Sam, when he finally comes out but Sam seemed a bit upset or perturbed about something. "Sam? What's wrong?" I asked him as he comes up to us. "Guys...we have a problem." He said to us and we give him a confused look.

"I don't understand, guys, we burned the damn thing." Sam said as we pace around our hotel room. Apparently, after we left, Sam saw that the painting was back and looked brand new once again. "Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious." Dean growls.

"All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?" I asked them. "Okay, all right. Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em." Sam said. "Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting." Dean said before he sighs. Then I look over at Sam. "What were their names again?" I asked him.

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?" The proprietor of this second-hand book shop asked us. "Yeah that's right." Sam said while Dean was smiling and flicking through an old book with pictures of guns.

The man then lays a huge book of newspaper clippings the table. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So are you three crime buffs?" The man asked us. "Kinda. Yeah." I said while Dean looks at the man. "Why do you ask?" Dean asked him.

"Well..." the man said and he holds up a newspaper article. The lead story on the front page says New Titanic Sinks, 1304 People Go To Watery Graves: Only 866 saved from 2,170 Aboard Liner Which Collides With Iceberg. Disaster Proves To Be the Greatest in Marine History of the World. Then he points at a side article. It reads Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.

"Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right." I said, not shocked by that at all. "The whole family was killed?" Sam asked, shocked. "It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor." The man replied.

"Why'd he do it?" I asked him. "Let's look. Ahh..." the man said as he begins to read. "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter...." He skims on. "Yeah yeah yeah...There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave. Which of course you know in that day and age, um....so instead, old man Isaiah...well he gave them all a shave." The man said as he draws his hand across his throat with appropriate noises, laughing.

Dean joins in but stops when Sam and I give him a look of disapproval. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean asked him. "Just that they were all cremated." The man replied. "Anything else?" Sam asked. "Yeah. Actually I found a picture of the family. It's right here... somewhere. Right -- here it is." The man said and he shows us, from the book, the same picture of the painting.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this please?" I asked him. "Sure." The man said, nodding.

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cockslutpadalecki · 2 years

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Mine

Summary: When Sam finds out Dean has been harbouring a little crush on his long term girlfriend, he has a very unique way of showing Dean that she belongs to him.

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (unrequited).

Words: 1.2K.

Warnings: unrequited feelings, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, consensual amateur pornography, dom!Sam (sort of), 18+.

A/N: Formerly a Patron exclusive. Written from Dean’s POV. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine.

I drop the case of beer and pizza onto the War Room table, eyeing the pile of never ending research fanned out across the map of the world below it.

“Sammy?” I call, my voice echoing back to me. “Y/N?”

Nothing. How odd.

I left them in this exact spot, noses deep in the books and ancient texts they abandoned. They couldn’t have— no, I’d hear her moaning down the corridor. Those soft, little whimpers that carry through the silence, and the desperate pleas tumbling from her lips as she pleads with Sam to fuck her harder.

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away, and set about trying to tidy a little in an attempt to stop myself from imagining her sprawled out on the table, my cock buried to the hilt inside her pussy.

Jeez Dean, get a fucking grip.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, pulling me from my reverie. I hurriedly fish it out and at the sight of the name flashing on the screen, I cough and hit green. Shame heats my cheeks. “Hey, where’d you go? Pizza’s gonna go cold, even got extra jalapenos for Y/N.”

The line is crackly and distant, but I can just about make Sam out. “I’m sure you’ll manage to eat our share before it does,” he makes a point of commenting. “But we got a lead about the case, and went to check it out.”

“You need me to follow up?” I ask, fingering the keys in my pocket.

“Nah, it’s fine. We got it,” Sam explains and my fingers retreat. “I just sent over a video and a couple of photos to my email though, are you okay to take a look? Think it could just be a rugaru after all.”

“Sure thing dude. I’ll call you when I know more.” I hang up, drop my cell onto the table and reach for a bottle of beer. Air hisses out as I unscrew the cap and chuck it onto the stack of books and papers.

Sam’s laptop remains open, but the screen is off, so I quickly press enter and the computer whirrs to life. I’m not concentrating as the screen boots up, brightness set at full volume until I’ve taken a large swig of Margiekugel’s finest.

I swallow deeply. “Right, let's do this,” I mutter to myself and finally glance up. Emails are already open.

Huh, that’s weird. I swear Sammy said he’d just sent them. My eyes hover over the attachments, thumbnails too small to pinpoint anything substantial, so I click on the video and let it maximise. Instantly I’m confused— this has been shot from inside the bunker. Right where I’m sitting in fact; the illuminated table is a dead giveaway. Curiosity gets the better of me and I find myself pressing play.

I realise my mistake the moment the timer begins to count down.

01:43.

I should probably stop it.

01:42.

Dean, dude, press stop.

01:41.

Y/N is face down and letting out the very moans that started this off in the first place. She was just Sam’s girlfriend. My friend. Someone I could kick back with, laugh at stupid jokes with. She was fun to be around, and when shit usually hit the fan in terms of hunts, she always had our backs. She knew how to wield a gun, behead a vamp— all the traits you’d expect from a seasoned hunter, and I admired the shit out of her for it.

Everything was as perfect as it could be.

Then I heard her one night— tiny, breathless gasps at first, until her screams pulsed in my ears long after they had finished. Just like when you stand too close to a speaker at a rock concert and the dull thump of the bass vibrates inside your skull for hours. I couldn’t forget the sounds she made no matter how much I attempted it, and trust me, I damn well tried. Every girl I picked up in shady bars managed to mask it, for all of five minutes, until her light moans bled into theirs and I began picturing her face as I came. I stopped frequenting bars after that.

By that point, when I only had my hand and a jumbo sized bottle of lube for company. I made any excuse to make myself scarce when they started fucking, even if it was 3am and I had to drive us across two states to slay a kitsune the next morning.

I can’t see Sam, but from the distinct grunts coming from behind the camera, I assume it’s him as he fucks into her with reckless abandon, her ass rippling from the force of his thrusts.

“Whose pussy is this?” Sam growls. Using his spare hand curled around her hip, he pulls her back onto his cock roughly, which elicits the hottest of voice-trapping mewls from her lips that I think I’ve ever heard.

“Oh fu—ck.” The cuh noise cuts across her tongue, like a knife and I can feel my cock swell at the sound of it. “Yours Sam, all yours.”

“Too right it is,” he states firmly. “And ‘m ‘bout to fucking destroy it.”

The camera pans down from the back of her head to between her legs, and the sight finds me swallowing the taste of copper as I bite down on my lower lip.

I watch as Sam’s cock drives in and out of her, and each time he pulls back it’s coated in her arousal, dripping wet and glistening. I can hear her cunt sucking him back in— the kind of obscene squelch that makes my balls tighten, wishing I was the cause of the noise. Wishing I was the one making her that wet.

“Sa— Sam, oh god, Sam...” She’s panting hard, and I can see the sweat beading across her back, pooling in the divot of her spine. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Do it baby, come for me.”

From the way she suddenly goes silent and her body quakes within Sam’s iron grip, it’s obvious she’s coming. I can’t see her face from this point of view, but I imagine what I think she’d look like— brows pinched together, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she attempts to stifle a cry. Camera aimed at her pussy the entire time, I can see— can practically feel— her contracting around Sam’s cock and my own aches.

“Fuck baby, look so good comin’ around my cock,” Sam praises, low and deep, as he shunts her further up the table and the video abruptly stops.

I sit in silence, eyes drawn to the edge of the table where Sam had her bent over, and I can almost envision the spot where the imprints of her breasts and sweaty palms no doubt were before they faded away, like nothing ever happened.

Shaking my head out of my thoughts, my fingers skim the mousepad to close the window, and my eyes are suddenly diverted to the singular sentence that accompanies the video. I never even registered it before, but part of me thinks if I had, I would never have subjected myself to it in the first place.

She belongs to me.

***

SPN: @allys-creative-bubble @akshi8278 @cluz1babe @deanwanddamons @fandom-princess-forevermore @flamencodiva @fanfictionandfluff @hobby27 @hoboal87 @jensenswinchester @jvstjewels @jc-winchester @katelyn--renee @mrswhozeewhatsis @peachyafshawn @pink-sparkly-witch @ravenclawfitzgerald @spnbaby-67 @sammykb1994 @sucker-for-dean @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @thoughts-and-funnies @thanatosfic @waywardbaby @winchest09

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Text

An Iron Box - A Mind Bewitched

Thank you all for being so patient! I’m still not 100% but by next week things should be back to normal :)

The AO3 link is here.

I hope you enjoy!

Edit: Sorry guys, I realised too late that Tumblr got rid of all my italics and formatting. I’ve fixed it now.

__________________________________________________

I had never been particularly concerned with my appearance. However, even I was glad to change out of my singed swimwear. Those awful shorts hadn’t been my first choice, although it was a shame about my hoodie. I had grown quite attached to it.

Now cleaner, and dressed in actual clothes like a sane human being, I was reclining on the couch in our “living room” while Kuina and (name) made a cacophony of noise in the tiny staff kitchen. What had started as a decision to make dinner together now resulted in an orchestra of pots and pans, miscellaneous clatters and the clack of cutlery on the tile floor.

I busied myself with the tiny map of the subway station. This scrap of paper would lead me to the answers I craved, but which station would be best to enter through? If the small hole in the paper marked out a den, then it had to be somewhere hidden along the tracks instead of at a station entrance where players could easily discover it.

But which station?

My thoughts were interrupted by a particularly loud clatter. The door opened and (name) appeared, carrying two steaming bowls with spoons inside. (Name) handed me one of the bowls, which contained a hearty-looking vegetable stew, and sat on the other end of the couch whilst Kuina plopped down in an armchair, a third bowl in her lap. Kuina immediately spooned some of the stew into her mouth, only to spit it back into the bowl.

‘Argh!’ She fanned her tongue with her hand. ‘It’s so hot!’

‘I would never have guessed by the steam,’ I said, setting down my spoon to let the stew cool for a while.

Kuina prodded the chewed mush in her bowl, and I was mildly perturbed by the fact that she still planned on eating it. Ever the dramatic, she felt around her mouth with a finger. ‘I think I’ve scalded my gums.’

‘What a surprise.’

Her eyes narrowed and she placed her bowl on a side table. ‘What’s got your boxers in a twist? You’re even more sarcastic than usual.’

The comment was so stupid, it didn’t even deserve a response. Finally lifting a spoonful of stew to my lips, I blew on it before eating. And within one bite, I knew that Kuina couldn’t possibly have cooked this. I had tasted her experiments before, and it was a mistake I had no intention of ever repeating.

‘It’s good,’ I said to (name).

She smiled quietly, cradling her warm bowl close to her body. ‘It’s nothing much. Just something I threw together.’

We ate quietly, leaving the cutlery on the coffee table to be cleaned up later. However, as the sun set and the sky darkened, it became a little too quiet. Something had changed. The city beyond the window was swept in shadows with no sign of life. And no games.

‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’ Kuina asked, staring out at the empty apartment blocks and offices.

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ (name) replied. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

The change was definitely due to the Ten of Hearts, which only confirmed at least part of Hatter’s original theory. Even if the cards didn’t send one person home - which I knew already - perhaps collecting them had been a trial. The deck lay heavy in my pocket, carrying so much weight for just a simple pack of cards. Whoever was running these games had been working quietly behind the scenes so far. Now, what would they do?

What are they thinking?

The night stretched on, and although I was occupied with studying my paper map to work out the best route to take, I began to notice Kuina’s futile attempts at hiding her yawns behind her hand. (Name) was curled up on the other end of the couch, her eyes closed in restfulness. Between them, it was Kuina who gave into exhaustion first and headed off to bed. With a not-so-subtle wink, she disappeared upstairs.

And naturally, in Kuina’s absence, (name) slid along the couch until she was pressed into my side, her face angled over my shoulder to see the map in my hand. Heat radiated from her body, her arm and thigh brushing against mine. She was far too close for comfort, but surprisingly, I didn’t hate it.

She leaned in closer, if such a thing was possible. ‘Isn’t that…’

‘Ah.’ She remembered well. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea.’

Sluggish, she leaned her head against my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but tense under the unfamiliar weight. The sweet scent of her hair overwhelmed my senses. She smelled like flowers and fresh air.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’ She murmured, yawning into her palm.

‘And if I don’t want to?’

It’s more fun if you work it out.

She snuggled into my cardigan, perhaps enjoying the softness. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

I could think of worse ways to die. However, her words had reminded me.

Our visas.

Once again, I looked out of the window. Midnight had passed several minutes ago, yet nothing had changed. There were no games, and no lasers. ‘I have a feeling that won’t happen anytime soon.’ I felt (name) twitch by my side, perhaps unsettled by this new change. However, if we were to find out what it meant, we needed to find the dealer’s den. ‘I believe it’s a map.’

‘And that hole in the paper,’ she replied. ‘Do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

My shoulder was beginning to ache, and I shifted a little to the side to ease the pressure. If I asked her to move, she would probably misconstrue it in some way or another, and I would have Kuina nagging at me tomorrow. However, the pressure lifted itself away as (name) sat upright. She leaned closer to the map, analysing the entangled scribbles, then uttered two words.

‘The subway…’

Clever girl.

I couldn’t help but smile. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

She looked at the map with intrigue. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably. But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

She yawned into her hand again. ‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’

Even if we did, you’d sleep through it at this rate.

With her half-lidded eyes and dusty pink cheeks, she was at risk of falling asleep right here on top of me. ‘I believe we will,’ I told her. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

She didn’t protest when I detangled myself from her hold. Or at least, she didn’t have the energy to. And personally, I didn’t have the energy to protest about her crawling straight into my bed instead of her own. I kept plenty of distance between us, in case she become too excited and start crossing all kinds of boundaries. However, I had to admit, I found peace in watching the stresses and lines of her face relax as she sank deeper into sleep. She often slept flat on her back, head lolling to the side and hair splayed out over the pillow. Then - and only then - would I allow my hand to touch the glossy ends of her locks. The colour and texture was unlike anything I had experienced here in Japan. Perhaps that was the only reason I was drawn to it.

Yet as I ran my fingers through the soft silk, I realised there was something comforting about it. About her presence. It soothed that hollow ache deep inside.

_________________________________________________

Minami-Aoyama station.

It had taken a little while to work out the subway station that would direct us to the mysterious hole in the map. However, this was it. The three of us were standing at the top of the staircase leading down into the platform, Kuina and (name) peering into the darkness with uncertainty.

When I looked into those black depths, I felt a rush. A thrill. A new piece of the puzzle was finally within my reach. Hands in my pockets, I fingered the deck of cards.

Almost...

‘Are you sure this is it?’

Kuina had asked the same question three times now, and I was beginning to wonder if she had short-circuited. (Name) looked at the route map printed over the station entrance.

‘Positive,’ she said.

Kuina pursed her lips. Then folding her arms, she began to descend the staircase. I felt around in my pocket for a small torch, which I had found in a toolbox in a storage cupboard. Flicking on the beam, I followed after Kuina, whilst (name) began to trail behind me. Checking the paper map against the direction of each rail-line, I directed them towards the correct platform.

‘This way.’

It was a steep drop onto the train tracks, however in the thick darkness that engulfed the tunnel, the torch became our only guiding light. I shone the beam on the tracks, the three of us trudging through the gravel in pensive silence, wary of stumbling upon something we shouldn’t — a trap, perhaps. Some form of deterrent to kill or keep players from discovering this hideout. We walked on, and I occasionally lifted the beam, shining it on the tunnel walls.

It should be around here somewhere.

And there it was. By chance, the edge of the beam caught the metal of a door. The door was cracked open, and there was a panel with a keypad on the wall beside it. Presumably, the dealers had needed to enter a passcode to enter, which would explain the lack of traps. But if that was the case…

Why is the door open?

I stopped. Directly behind me, (Name) skidded on the gravel, her hand fisting the back of my cardigan to keep from running straight into me. I raised the beam, revealing the door in full.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina's whisper echoed through the tunnel.

I didn’t hesitate, approaching the door and walking straight through into what appeared to be a dark, concrete walkway. The air was cold, and there was a mustiness that cloyed at my throat and lungs with every intake of breath. Hearing scuffles and curses from back in the tunnel, I paused, shining my torch at the doorway. Kuina and (Name) emerged, flustered and rubbing at their elbows. If they found it this difficult to walk through a door, it was truly a wonder that they had survived so many Spades games.

Kuina caught my eye, glaring daggers at me. ‘Hey! Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ I said as they caught up. I smiled as (name) muttered a string of profanities under her breath, some too explicit to translate for Kuina.

However, my smile disappeared as I turned the beam down the walkway. Something glistened in the blackness. The other two froze, having also noticed it. I followed the walkway, keeping my eye on this mysterious glimmer, a reflection of sorts, growing larger and larger, increasing in number as we approached what appeared to be a large structure.

Well, this is more interesting than I had thought.

The structure consisted of endless television screens, running right up to the ceiling in rows and columns, curving around one another to create several large watch-rooms. Wires and cables hung across the ceiling like vines. Small concrete tunnels ran between each watch-room joined them together in a network.

We walked closer, entering one of the tunnels that led into a central watch-room. I could feel (name) hovering by my side, her breath ragged with anxiety. It was silly. She had nothing to fear whatsoever. Because inside, the watch-room was set up like an office, filled with desks, chairs, papers strewn here and there, used mugs, snacks, pinboards of post-its, and more notably, bodies.

There were bodies everywhere.

They were hunched over desks, sprawled across the floor, limp in chairs. But there was something rather curious about these bodies. A pattern, so to speak. Their heads bore the same singed holes running from head to chin, their eyes bloodshot. Every single person in the room had been struck by a laser.

So this is the game we’re playing, hm?

(Name) squatted down, her hand hovering over the body of a man in a suit. ‘What… is this?’

This is the game-master’s handiwork.

She inspected the charred hole in the man’s crown. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the game.’

My eyes caught sight of something rather familiar tucked underneath a pen pot. A scrap of paper. Pulling it out, I read through the notes. It was filled with roman numerals, all written in different colours of pen, some ticked off. A visa tally.

I passed it to (name). ‘Evidently not.’

She scanned the paper, her eyes widening as she realised exactly what she was looking at. Her expression was one of disgust, and she tossed it back on the desk.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina held up a piece of paper for us to see. It was covered in numbers and scribbles. I picked out some rather interesting looking nicknames - “girl in blue hoodie”, “fat dude”, “baldy” - along with some items like shampoo, chicken wings, and cookies. Items that held value in a world without currency. In other words… ‘They were betting on us,’ Kuina said.

Well, at least they knew how to have fun.

Personally, the thought didn’t bother me. In a place like this, it was only natural for people to try and make the best of a bad situation. Coping mechanisms were strangely fascinating. However, (name’s) coping mechanisms were clearly failing her. She was shaking lightly, and her eyes roved over the pieces of paper dotted around the room with a disturbed horror as she came the the very same conclusion I had. That their visas were tied to the number of deaths in each game. Even by surviving alone, we had potentially caused a person’s death. I stepped out from behind her, tracing my fingertip against the goosebumps on the back of her arm.

‘Momoka’s friend,’ she said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game… or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

She winced slightly, casting her eyes over the bodies around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

Before she could speak further, something echoed from back at the walkway entrance.

Footsteps.

Without thinking, my thumb slid over the switch of the torch, plunging us into darkness once more. I grabbed (name) by the wrist and pulled her into the small tunnel at the back of the watch-room. Kuina skidded inside, hiding in the shadows behind us.

I kept my eyes trained on the original tunnel we had entered through, listening carefully to the clap of footsteps as two torch beams swung in different directions. This was more than one person. But who? Somewhere in the darkness just outside the watch-room, a voice echoed.

‘Where is this place?’

‘Who knows?’

Oh? I’m impressed.

Two figures emerged through the entrance, two faces I didn’t expect in a place like this. That was my mistake. I should have realised sooner. In spite of his clueless appearance, Arisu did have a knack for solving puzzles. Arisu and Usagi hesitantly looked over the room, taking in the televisions, the bodies, the laser wounds. Arisu looked better, less bruised, and no longer dribbling blood and spreading sentimentality like a saint. Beside me, (name) sighed in relief. I brushed past her and stepped into the watch-room once more.

‘You actually found this place. As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’

Kuina walked around the room before leaning against one of the walls. ‘We meet again,’ she said with a nod.

Instead of addressing me or Kuina, the two peered over my shoulder, frowning in confusion. I glanced behind me where (name), awkward as ever, was grimacing with a little wave of her fingers. Idiot. She was probably still embarrassed by the whole stealing-the-cards ordeal.

What’s done is done.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered warily. Clearly she didn’t share the same sentiment.

Pulling the deck of cards from my pocket, I attempted to diffuse the tension. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me.’ I smiled as politely as I could. ‘Thank you.’

Usagi blinked in disbelief. Meanwhile, Arisu actually had his priorities straight. ‘How did you discover this place?’ He asked.

I took the scrap of paper from my pocket and held it open. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ Sliding it back into my pocket, I strolled around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards… I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ I caught (name’s) eye across the room. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

Arisu seemed to be entranced by the number of bodies around us. ‘They’re not the gamemasters.’

(Name) stepped over an arm as she crossed the room. ‘Because we collected the cards, they were all killed.’ I could see her struggling to form the right grammar. I had almost forgotten how patchwork her Japanese was. ‘There must be someone above them,’ she added in English, looking pointedly at me for help.

Unamused, I translated on her behalf, and Usagi frowned deeply. ‘But who?’

I shrugged. There were a number of possibilities. ‘Who knows? They might be aliens.’ From the corner of my eye, I saw Arisu’s skeptical face. I turned to him, perfectly serious. ‘Or even God.’

Suddenly, a screen blinked.

The watch-room lit up as every screen in the room flickered to life, glaring a bright white. (Name) flocked to my side. Music - trumpets - echoed from an unknown source, and in the centre of the room, the televisions displayed the four card suits along with the words “Special Urgent Broadcast”.

And who exactly is broadcasting this, I wonder.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

My curiosity was quelled instantly. Emerging through the speakers, that tinny yet familiar voice answered almost every question I had. I was pleasantly surprised.

I have to say, you had me fooled…

Stretched across the televisions before us, Mira’s enthusiastic features came into view one by one, blurring then focusing to reveal her dark attire, her long hair, and a curious glint in her beady eyes. So she was the spy at the Beach. The one who switched off the generators, who organised the Witch Hunt, who had been keeping an eye on our “utopia” from the inside all along.

But that also meant…

The Eight of Diamonds - Open Market. Back then, the game had taken me off-guard. The decision to place me in the jewellery store, and the answer to the final question. Had Mira been watching the two of all along?

‘How interesting,’ I mused. What exactly would she get out of toying with us?

Cold fingers brushed my wrist as (name) slipped her hand into my pocket. I was acutely aware of Arisu and Usagi’s presence, but since they were more concerned with the disjointed image of Mira before us, I allowed her this. I laced my fingers around hers, brushing my thumb against the smoothness of her skin.

Mira was quivering with excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards,’ she said, ‘you’ve cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ She stood up, as if locked in a trance. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

One of the screens changed, playing game footage of a group standing around. They were gripping guns close to their chests as they inspected a pile of bodies on the floor, nudging them with their feet.

‘And that girl you burned alive,’ Mira added. Another television screen showed a large billowing flame, which upon closer inspection, was actually a girl waving her arms wildly as her body drowned in embers.

Perhaps they didn’t have footage of Niragi.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

(Name’s) hand tightened around mine. I followed her glassy stare to a television screen directly across from us, where I instantly recognised the furniture store. But this time, it was different. A table and chairs were fixed in the centre of the room, where two men leapt from their seats. At that same moment, lasers pierced them where they stood, and their bodies tumbled to the ground. And there she was, doe eyed and trembling.

Your first game…

It was a game of “Rummy”, if I remembered correctly. I squeezed her hand in return, and she eased the pressure a little.

Oblivious, Mira continued in her wistful dream. ‘Those whose heads were blown off,’ she mused. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moment you’ll never forget.’

A number of screens changed at once, each displaying various game footage. In one, I noticed Arisu’s former friend. His partner with the Hawaiian shirt and blond hair who had joined him in the Tag game. In this, he was surrounded by botanical plants, his head lolling as his collar exploded in a spray of blood.

The screens changed one by one, alternating between various games, various deaths. Meanwhile, Mira’s face cracked into a delighted grin. ‘Everyone,’ she breathed, clutching her heart. ‘I’m so touched!’ She hesitated, smirking with mischief. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

Hm? There must be more of you.

But just how many more? Were there other spies in the Beach? It was a small slip, but it raised another bout of questions. And as (name) had stiffened slightly, I knew that she had caught it too.

‘Are you returning us to the real world? Kuina asked, hopefully.

Mira clapped her hands together, shaking with barely restrained mania. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

The face cards. It was a little too predictable, even for my tastes. And naturally, these new games would be even more challenging. But there was a matter of numbers. Since there were twelve face cards in total, did that mean we would enter regular games without knowing the rules, suit, or difficulty, and have to collect cards in the usual way? Or were there only twelve games to complete?

‘New games?’ Kuina scoffed. ‘You’re kidding.’

New games… new challenges… twelve new puzzles to solve.

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ I muttered.

Immediately, (name) drew back a little. ‘What do you mean?’

Someone like you wouldn’t understand.

I met her eye, holding back the very comment that had run through my mind. It would only end with yet another argument.

Mira continued, cordial and vibrant. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

And as if someone had pulled a plug, the televisions shut down in unison, the watch-room slipping into blackness once more. Nobody spoke for a long moment, even to address what we had just witnessed, and it was Arisu who eventually decided that it would be best to leave. Kuina followed him, along with Usagi, leaving (name) and I in the empty watch-room.

She was still gripping my hand in the warmth of my pocket. I didn’t pull mine away, nor did I try to explain what I had said earlier. Finally, after a moment of tense silence, she spoke.

‘These games, they’re going to be harder than the others.’

There was no point in denying it. After a silence, I replied with, ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before,’ she whispered. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me?’

Back then…

It was right after the Hunting Season game, the measly Two of Spades that had left me with a gash in my side. All that time ago, and yet she still hadn’t learned her lesson. She should have been more concerned with her own safety. But it wasn’t worth the lecture now.

‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ She chewed on her lip, her eyes welling up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then…’ she trailed off.

I had heard enough. ‘You cry too much,’ I said. Her affection was better spent on Kuina, or even Arisu and Usagi. It was wasted on this empty shell of a human being. But that was a conversation for another day. ‘We should find the others.’

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and released my hand at last. We walked back through the tunnels, emerging from the station steps into the bright sunshine of Tokyo where the others were standing out in the open, squinting up at the sky. A series of bangs crackled through the air, as fireworks exploded into red, purple and green flowers that sizzled against the skyline.

Fireworks.

Where had I last seen fireworks? I pushed away the thought, watching the display with no particular interest. Things like fireworks had never excited me. Nothing much did. And yet, here I was, craving the lost warmth of her fingers once more. How was it that someone so hopelessly naive could bewitch my mind in its entirety? Dredging this box from the seabed with her presence alone — a train whistle with the power to break through iron.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ I said. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I could feel her eyes on me, and I knew that she was smiling, just like she always did when she was truly at peace.

‘It’s a deal.’

#alice in borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc

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panickinganakin · 2 months

Text

stepping stones to hell ch. 15 (a ronance fic)

hi! please don’t judge my use of 1993 cell phone lore, it’s probably incorrect! you can find all previous chapters here!

warnings: this chapter contains mature content. it isn’t full blown smut but it’s intimate. minors dni!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Robin stood inside of a coffee shop in Nashville staring at the menu. She wished she could say she was reading it in an attempt to figure out what to order but there was no way in hell she could process anything at the moment.

She had kissed Nancy Wheeler. Not only had she kissed Nancy but Nancy kissed her back. This wasn’t a dream. Nancy actually liked Robin. She felt Nancy’s fingers brush against her arm, pulling her from her daze. “Do you know what you’re going to get?” Nancy questioned.

“Uhm, nope. What about you?”

”I’m probably going to get a coffee over ice since it’s starting to get a little warmer out. Maybe with chocolate or caramel?” She gave Robin a small smile. It wasn’t getting warmer outside at all, they both knew that. It was the kiss that had both of their body temperatures rising.

Deciding to explore Nashville together had been such a good idea up until now. Now all Robin wanted was to be alone with Nancy so she could kiss her again and again. “That sounds great,” Robin finally said. “I’ll have exactly what you’re having.” There was only one person in front of them now and Nancy started to laugh, “What? What’s so funny?” Robin inquired.

“It’s just funny that we are two grown women and a kiss has sent us into shambles.”

”It wasn’t just a kiss,” Robin said quietly so only Nancy could hear her.

Her lips twitched and she shook her head slightly, “No, you’re right. It was definitely a lot more than that.”

They stepped up to the counter and Nancy told the cashier what they wanted. After they paid they stepped to the left to wait on their drinks. Weeks of being friends and talking had gone by and now Robin wasn’t even sure what to say. “What do you think the guys will do today?” Nancy asked to break the silence.

”I think they will do a little of what we did. Without the kissing of course. Well, maybe not,” she thought of Steve and Eddie. The two had been infatuated with each other even after all these years. It always made Robin glad to know that true love never really died.

“Robin, please,” Nancy giggled.

“It’s true! Those two can be sooooo clingy sometimes.”

Nancy smiled softly, “I’m glad. If anyone deserves it’s Steve. He always took the most care of literally everyone.”

Robin nodded her agreement, “It’s true. I’m so glad he and Eddie have each other.”

“Well, I hope they go to the record store. Imagine that guy if every member showed up. Then he could have multiple things signed by all of you. That would be so cool.”

”We need to invest in cell phones so that we can call them and tell them.” Robin sighed.

“You know I’ve thought about breaking down and buying one but they are so expensive and they have to weigh like a pound or two.”

”Yeah, kind of like carrying a brick in your purse.”

“Oooh, it could double as a weapon!” Nancy said excitedly.

”Maybe we should go get one today. That way when you leave tomorrow and I’m forced to finish the tour without you, we can still call whenever we want. Even when I’m on the bus!”

Nancy clapped her hands together, “Oh, perfect! Where’s the map?” Robin pulled the folded up paper from her back pocket. Nancy took it and began to look it over, “The nearest Radio Shack is only two blocks away. It’s a perfect idea!”

”Great, it’s settled then.” As the worker sat down the two coffees, Nancy put the paper in her own pocket before grabbing the drinks and handing one to Robin. “Shall we?” Robin asked, holding her arm out.

Nancy shook her head with a laugh, wrapping her arm around Robin’s. “We look like a pair of dinguses.”

“My dear Nancy, it’s because we are.”

As they made their way to their destination it hit Robin that after tonight it would be a little while before she could even see Nancy again. The thought was bittersweet. She was grateful for the time they were spending together now but she knew the departure would be different this time than last time. Last time Robin was sad to be leaving a friend behind. Well, a friend she had a crush on. But now, Nancy was more than a friend, right? Not technically, Robin thought. However things were definitely different now. They couldn’t exactly take back what happened; not that Robin wanted to and she was sure Nancy didn’t want to either.

No, Nancy had wanted the kiss. She had pulled Robin closer, she would have let her do more than kiss her, that Robin was sure of. “You’re blushing,” Nancy said with a soft laugh. “What are you thinking about?”

Robin debated on telling her the truth. What did she have to lose? She took a drink of her coffee. She realized it was the first drink, she had actually forgotten she had even had a drink. “Holy shit this is good.”

Nancy nodded in agreement, “Are you avoiding the question, Robs?”

”What? Oh, no. I just felt the need to say that… Right. Well, I mean if you must know I was thinking about you.”

”What about me?”

Was Nancy really going to make her say her every thought out loud? “I was thinking about the kiss. About the dressing room wall and how I could have pushed you up against it-“

”Robin!” Nancy interrupted her before letting out a cough. “You’re going to make me choke on this coffee.” Robin took a breath, ready to make a joke but Nancy cut her eyes at her, “Don’t even think about saying anything.”

”Now you’re the one blushing,” Robin said victoriously.

Nancy rolled her eyes and shoved Robin’s arm playfully, “Whatever. Oh look! There it is!” She pointed to the right where Radio Shack sat only three or so stores away. “Makes me think of Bob,” Nancy said softly.

“Rest his soul,” Robin tried to sound thoughtful. She had never known Bob but she had heard enough about him when she had heard the story of what happened before the mall. She had only seen him once when she and her parents went to buy her dad a computer but she hadn’t said anything to him.

Nancy pulled the door open and Robin nodded her head in thanks. “Hello!” They were greeted so quickly Robin jumped a little.

“Hi!” Nancy called back, pulling Robin’s hand so she moved forward.

She looked around the store and noticed this wasn’t going to be the easiest of choices. There were many cell phones sitting on a kiosk in the center of the store. There were also tons of other things. Computers, pagers, fax machines, printers, radios which of course made sense giving the name. “What can we do for you today?” The worker asked again.

Robin gave a smile, hoping Nancy would continue to take the lead. The lady flipped her long red hair over her shoulder, offering Robin a smile in return. “We were hoping to purchase two cell phones today.”

”Perfect!” She said, clapping her hands together. “We have some options, do you know what you’re looking for exactly?”

”Uhm, well,” Robin tilted her head, scanning the table. “Neither of us have owned one and we spend a lot of time apart because of work and such so, something that reaches really far away?” She questioned rather than stated.

“Well, a cell phone is just the thing you’re looking for, then. These,” the lady motioned her manicured hand toward a phone the size of one of Steve’s shoes. It looked like it could truly weigh what a brick did and could probably take someone out if smacked with it.

“That one looks a little dangerous,” Robin laughed nervously.

Nancy snorted but nodded in agreement, “What about those?” Nancy pointed to the end of the table where a few smaller options sat. They weren’t much smaller but they were slightly slimmer. As far as taking up space they would fit much easier in a purse or bag.

“These are the newest models we have. They are a bit on the pricey side but as far as devices go they are the best. The battery lasts longer, reception is good and it’s less likely to knock someone out if you threw it at them. Which, we at Radio Shack, do not condone of course.”

They both laughed but Robin grabbed a small gray phone, “I want this one.”

”And I’ll take this one,” Robin grabbed the same phone as Nancy but in black.

“Well you two of you made this painless. Now we just need to get those and set them up.”

After nearly an hour, Robin and Nancy exited the Radio Shack each with a paper bag and a new phone. They already had saved one another’s new number and their home numbers. “Two numbers and they’re both yours,” Nancy smiled.

“Who else could you ever need?”

“Not a soul,” she smiled.

After leaving Radio Shack they decided to call for a taxi and back to the hotel. It was only a few hours until it would start getting dark so they needed to be ready to go watch the meteor shower together. At some point on the way home in the back of the car the two had started to hold hands again. Robin had always thought relationships and crushes had been so difficult. Everything had seemed so complicated but if she were being honest it was only ever her fear of forming intimate connections. The last thing she ever wanted was to be heartbroken. She had never even had close friends until Steve. If it hadn’t been for almost dying then helping save their town together, they probably wouldn’t have become close either.

That was the beginning of everything for Robin. Because of Steve came her other friendships she had formed like Dustin, Erica, Lucas and Max. Because of those events she was now in Corroded Coffin and was so close with everyone in the band. Corroded was the reason she had reconnected with Nancy. So in a very honest way, everything good in her life was because of Steve Harrington.

Once all their new finds and purchases were packed away, they called for wine. They were packing a bag to take with them. “Okay, wine, blankets, two pillows… Are we missing anything?” Nancy said, scanning the room.

“Hm, I don’t think so.” Robin also looked around. There wasn’t much they really needed anyway, just each other and definitely blankets in case it got cold. “I wonder what everyone else is doing.”

”What do they normally do when you guys have a free day?”

Robin sat down at the end of the bed facing Nancy. “Normally we will sleep in because of how hard it is to sleep on the bus. Then we just explore whatever town we are in. Well, that is if it’s a free day where we are parked. Sometimes we’ll have a day or so between shows but we have to drive. When it’s like that we always try to stop somewhere if we have time. At least for food and necessities on the bus. Oh, and to shower. I have showered in more truck stop bathrooms in my life than I ever thought I would.”

”Not all venues have showers?” Nancy asked curiously.

”Well, since we’ve started playing slightly bigger shows they normally do. When we did our first tour though we were mostly playing tiny places and bars so there weren’t really showers. So the label would give us extra money to pay for showers at truck stops. Which aren't as bad as you would think. Most places are really well maintained. At least the female showers were, I never asked what the guys were like.”

”Is it hard? Being on the road away from everyone?”

Robin sucked in a breath, crawling up beside Nancy to lay back against the pillows. “Before we started touring my parents and I kind of had a falling out, as you know. I think it would have been harder but the only people I really had after that was Steve and the band. So, I couldn’t really miss anyone while being gone. Of course my friends back home but everyone was leaving to do their own thing and everything we went through… I know we both said it before but sometimes it felt easier to forget. I really tried not to think about anyone.”

Nancy nodded slowly before biting her lip, “Do you think it’s going to be harder to leave now?”

Robin’s chest ached at her question, she knew exactly what she meant. Would it be harder to leave now that she had Nancy. Robin nodded without a second thought, “Yes. Touring is fun and getting to be a musician is so rewarding and we are very lucky. I think the hardest part is being on the road. There are good things and bad things. Leaving is going to be harder now than it ever was.” There was no reason for Robin to say it was because of her, Nancy knew it was.

“It will make coming home that much more special, though,” Nancy offered with a forced optimistic attitude.

“Nancy Wheeler, am I sensing sadness in that tone? We aren’t even apart yet.”

She laughed lightly then sighed, “I’m just already thinking about leaving tomorrow. I suppose it won’t be all that different. I’ll go home and work, like I have these past few years. You’ll tour like you have been doing. So being apart will be like it was before we met.”

”Yes,” Robin said but then shook her head. “But also not. It will be different because I’ll miss you. But coming home will be an experience like we’ve never had. Or at least me. I’ve never been able to go home to someone. I’ve never been just itching to get off the bus. I guess I’ve never really looked forward to going home but now I can. Now I have someone to go home to.”

Nancy turned to face Robin and stared at her for a few long moments. Robin opened her mouth to ask if she said the wrong thing but suddenly Nancy shifted to her side, placing her hands on either side of Robin before she leaned in. “Can I kiss you Robin Buckley?”

Robin wanted to make a stupid joke about how they had already kissed and didn’t have to ask. However she was left unable to say anything so she just nodded.

Nancy leaned in and pressed her lips against hers. They were so warm and soft, it made Robin slump against the pillow. She grabbed at Nancy’s arms, tugging her forward. Nancy shifted, putting one leg on the other side of Robin and sitting down on her thighs all without breaking the kiss.

Robin felt a fluttering in her chest as her heart rate quickened. She placed her hands on Nancy’s cheeks before sliding one to the back of her head. Her hair was so soft and perfect. Nancy was perfect. She had always known that. She had been Hawkins’ number one girl. Even if she hadn’t known it, Robin did. She was beautiful, smart, and desirable. She was everything anyone could ever want to be and now she was hers.

Nancy pulled away to study Robin’s face for a few seconds. “Are you okay?” Robin asked.

Nancy wrapped her arms around Robin’s shoulders and neck, leaning back in to kiss her again in answer. She slid her tongue across Robin’s lips before she opened her mouth. Nancy was so warm and inviting. She was so gentle with Robin as their tongues met. Her hands drifted to Nancy’s waist, knowing it wasn’t possible to pull her closer but trying still.

Nancy’s hips shifted and she let out a soft moan causing Robin’s stomach to tighten. She felt her inside turn warm. She wanted Nancy to make that sound again and wanted to know what other sounds she could pull from her pretty mouth.

Nancy gripped the front of Robin's shirt now as if her life depended on it. She pulled away, looking at Robin again. Nancy’s face was flushed and her lips were swollen. A smile flickered across her lips as she went back in to place a soft kiss to Robin’s lips. She then kissed the corner of her mouth. She was placing kisses in a trail down her jawline before taking them down her neck. Her lips settled at Robin’s pulse and she kissed softly, then bit her skin gently. Robin couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth. Nancy bit her harder that time but it wasn’t painful; it was all pleasure. She kissed the same spot moving her lips to Robin’s collarbone. Robin let out another breathy noise and she could feel Nancy smiling against her skin.

Slowly, agonizingly so, she followed the same trail back up to Robin’s mouth, kissing her again. “We need to leave for the meteor shower soon.”

“R-right,” Robin agreed in a shaky voice. “Meteors.”

Nancy grinned and kissed Robin again before crawling off top of her and grabbing the car keys, “Ready?”

Even though Robin’s head was spinning she nodded, swallowing to try and calm herself. Fuck, she thought. It was almost embarrassing how much Robin needed her. She forced a smile, throwing her legs over the bed and hopping up, “Let’s go!”

#stranger things #st4 #the fruity four #steddie #robin buckley #ronance #fruity four #stranger things fic #writing #nancy wheeler #nancy and robin are in love #st fanfic

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zahroreadsthings · 1 year

Text

A meeting...

Question: Do you offer a hand?

Response: Yes. No-one else is here to help.

Check notes for previous instalments

You don't know how much help you'll be being new in town yourself, but you can at least direct them to the people on main street.

You only hesitate for a moment before stepping out of the shadows and waving. 'Need a hand?'

A few heads whip around and one of the group stands in front of two of the younger looking ones. You could have planned your approach better.

'Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you,' you say sheepishly. 'Happened to be on a walk.'

A middle aged man steps towards you warily. 'You local?'

'Um. Not very. Been living here the past few weeks.'

Without looking away from you he says, 'Roz?'

A young woman who can't be older than twenty shakes a dimly glowing globe until the light glows stronger.

The man's eyes catch on your cowl. 'Are you a weather witch? I haven't seen you before.'

You touch the cowl self-consciously. 'Yeah. Very new.'

His shoulders relax and he looks over his shoulder. He's met with a few cautious nods. 'Better than nothing. I'm Hakim, and apparently none of us can read a map worth a damn.'

'I could probably -' You stretch your hand out and Hakim gestures for you to join the group.

Another witch with a stone hanging from his belt (a coast witch, you guess) gives you the map and the girl, Roz, holds her globe higher so you can see the page. She drags the toe of her boot through the dust of the road absently and lets bumps rise and fall. Road witch, then.

'Don't think the head road will like that,' a woman around your own age mutters. You can just make out metal rings hanging from her belt - you have no idea what witch she could be.

'What she doesn't know won't hurt her.'

You look at the paper in the globe's light. It's less a map and more a very rough sketch with a few words and stars. You rotate it to try to make sense of it. 'This map is shit.'

'Tell me about it,' the coast witch says.

'Where are you heading?

'An inn called Crow's Nest,' Hakim says from over your shoulder. 'Do you know what the rooms there are like?'

'Never stayed there.' Don't know where it is either, you don't say. You squint at the map and see it's marked with a star near a square you assume is the platform.

You point at the long line running up the map. 'This is main street. To get there you walk up this road, turn left at the second bakery you see and - you know what, I can just walk you there.'

You lead the group through the winding roads and down main street. The few people still on the street follow you with their eyes, but most at least try to be discreet. You can't blame them; it's a weird sight, especially for a place that until recently had three witches. Each witch is carrying their pack and their tools, and some are holding hands so they don't get separated.

You stop to stare at the map just before you reach the platform. The Crow's Nest is just a couple of streets down. You walk your group to the front door.

Hakim claps you on the shoulder and thanks you for helping. You wave the group inside. 'Guess I'll be seeing you all soon.'

They start to file inside one by one.

#polls #cyoa #sorry it's so damn long 👉🏾👈🏾

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monstrousroommates · 10 months

Text

Holiday Plans (Monstrous Roommates AU fic)

So the thing is: Fireworks go boom.

(on Ao3)

------

There were raised voices in the kitchen, which was surprising. Thomas rose up out of his doze and headed over, more or less sitting on the kitchen pass through. All four of his roommates were gathered around the table, which had lots of pieces of paper on it, and Logan’s laptop to one side. The paper proved to be a map of the surrounding area, from the looks of things printed off Google and patched together.

“-this does of course, not include people who have just gotten them somewhere and will let them off whenever they please.”

“Yeah but those are quieter.” Virgil countered. Patton whined uncomfortably, leaning against Roman. Roman was perched on the counter, and kissed Patton’s neck in response.

Virgil glared down at the paper.

“We can’t do anything about those. So planning for them is out.”

“Barring weather conditions they’ll start here at eight forty five on the second, continuing here and here until ten at the latest.” He drew points on the map, and after a moment’s study, Virgil drew circles around them.

“Again, the weather’ll change it, but that’s about the range.”

Thomas moved past them, and brushed up against Patton and Roman, letting them know he was there with a chill.

“Hello Thomas.” Roman said brightly, but looking in the wrong direction.

“Over here.” Thomas corrected, pushing himself to become visible. “Sorry, went through you a little bit.”

“So that’s what that was.” Patton gave a weak smile.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked. Over at the kitchen table, Logan and Virgil had changed pen colors, apparently, and were discussing the third.

“Fourth of July plans.” Roman explained.

“Ah, gonna find the best place to watch the fireworks?”

Before anyone could answer, there was a sharp echoing bang somewhere down the street. Patton jumped and whined, fingernails looking at little dark and thick where he was holding on to Roman’s arms.

There was a pause, then another bang. Outside there was a flash of light.

“... firework.” Logan said after a moment. “Not gun.”

“You’re sure?” Virgil asked. Logan nodded. Now that he was looking, Logan looked a little strained as well, and Virgil was chewing on the cord to his hoodie.

“Not quite.” Roman smiled at Thomas. “My beloveds do not care for fireworks. Logan is bothered by the lights, Patton is bothered by the sound, and Virgil hates both of them. Our last home was in the city, and the fireworks usually were set off at the edges, or more lost to the city sounds.”

“And assholes who shot ‘em off early got caught by the police. All cops may be bastards, but at least they knew a fire hazard when they saw it.” Virgil said grumpily.

“We weren’t quite prepared for how… enthusiastic the area was last year.” Logan explained. “This year, I have made some charts, and Virgil is helping me estimate how far the sound will carry.” He frowned down at his map. “We’re in an overlap for no less than three displays- and four on the fourth itself, oddly enough.”

“So I’m guessing no barbeque?” Thomas joked.

“We will probably be leaving tomorrow morning.” Roman confirmed. “I quite like fireworks, but I wouldn’t want to leave them alone.”

“You don’t have to.” Patton mumbled. “You could stay and have a blast.” he gave a weak smile.

“Thank you, no.” He kissed the top of Patton’s head. “If I want to see fireworks, I’ll take a trip down to Disney.”

“Disney.” Virgil and Logan groaned together, and Virgil made another mark on the map, down at the edge.

“I never thought it was an option.” Patton told Thomas. “When I was younger I just had to put up with it, because no one else seemed to have a problem.”

“If we can’t find a good place, it’s going to be noise canceling headphones and a lan party this year.” Virgil grumbled. “I mean, fun, but I’d rather not be forced into it. But we don’t want to go too far, and we need someplace to stay. So it’s tricky.” he sighed. “I remember I liked the fireworks when I was a kid, but now it’s just too bright and loud.”

Logan reached out and patted Virgil’s shoulder, staring down at the map.

“Why don’t you guys go somewhere else entirely?”

“Well, I’m still concerned about the epidemic, personally.” Logan pointed out. “Of the four of us, I am the most likely to contract a disease. Beyond that…” he shook his head. “It’s not as if we can travel far outside the United States in any good time. So anywhere we went we would be faced with the same problem. I think preparation like this is as good as it’s going to get.”

“Last year of highschool, Logan and I went camping. We hiked for miles out into the wilderness.” Patton offered.

“The stars were lovely.” Logan remembered.

“Yeah, but you were so sore you could hardly walk back.” Patton gave a whine of concern.

“We perhaps pushed too hard.”

“It took us twice as long to get back.” Patton admitted. “We ran out of food and I had to hunt. So even if we were near a big enough park, I don’t know if I’d wanna risk it.”

“I should hope I’m in better shape now, with all the effort I put into physical therapy.” Logan huffed. “But I suppose it’s better not to take that risk.”

“I mean, I could probably carry you back, but I’m not a huge fan of camping in the first place.” Virgil said with a grimace.

“It sounds like you need an off highway motel. Most of those are further away from towns.” Thomas suggested. “If you had more time, you might be able to find like an island rental in the keys.”

“I vote that!” Roman said excitedly. “No fireworks for you and a beach for me!”

“Yeah, sure.” Virgil said sarcastically. “You find one and I’ll put up with being on a boat.”

Roman pulled out his phone and started typing, and Virgil rolled his eyes, going back to his intense map-marking with Logan.

“Are you going to be okay Thomas?” Patton asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m used to being alone.” Thomas admitted, flickering a little bit. He didn’t like it, but really, being a ghost lent itself to being lonesome. From the expression on Patton’s face he felt bad about it. Logan and Virgil argued quietly about locations and populations.

They were still at it a half an hour later, when Roman’s phone pinged and he looked at it.

“Ah-ha! I’ve got it!”

“What?” Virgil looked surprised.

“I put out some feelers- okay, Remy helped, and he and his mind-witch want to come as well.” Roman smiled brilliantly. “We have, should we want it, a private island for the week. With a nice little vacation home.” there was another ping. “Ah-” Roman’s shoulders shook as he laughed looking at the message. “Apparently it’s a summer home of someone Remy knows, and they go north for the Fourth. And it’s no longer optional. Remy says he’s going to show up at our door tomorrow. With a minivan.”

“If Remy’s willing to drive a minivan, it must be serious.” Virgil said with a straight face.

“Ah well.” Logan looked at the map. “It was a fun mental exercise.” He began folding up the map, and putting the pens into a cup.

“We should go pack, I guess.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Sunscreen time.”

“I wish you could come with us.” Patton told Thomas.

“Yeah. Me too.” he smiled, and faded out.

#willow is writing #monster au #sanders sides fic #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts thomas #holiday fic

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 2 years

Text

Stranger Things ~ Camp Half-Blood AU

“Eleven” has never known anything but the lab she lives in with her seventeen siblings– well, fifteen. Eight disappeared a while ago, and nobody talks about One. She thinks the monsters got to them.

She’s always known about her powers, and always known about the monsters. Sometimes Papa shows them the monsters on the cameras so that they know he’s not lying, which is sometimes a rumor that spreads. The monsters want to kill them, so it’s too dangerous to go outside. She and her siblings need to learn how to use their powers in a place where it is safe. The lab will protect them from the monsters, and all they have to do is listen to their Papa.

Then, one day, a monster gets through defenses. She hides in her room, knowing her siblings must be safer in the Rainbow Room, only for the door to burst down.

This monster doesn’t look too evil. He looks mostly human, actually, just with horns and hooves and furry legs like the animals she sees in the books. He speaks to her gently, he sees that she’s scared. He tells her that they have to leave, this lab is hurting her and he can take her somewhere actually safe.

She hesitates, but she doesn’t trust the monsters. She throws him away with her magic.

She uses too much magic. She hears the storm build outside. The wall breaks open with a strike of lightning.

And the monsters get in.

She starts to run.

She can’t make it to the Rainbow Room. There are too many monsters. They’re terrifying, and worse– the adults can’t fight them. All the defenses were outside, not in. She let them in, it’s her fault.

The first monster, the animal-man, finds her hiding from another monster, and scoops her up, carrying her outside. He gives her a paper with an address and tells her to keep running before the monsters can get her. She has to head to the address while he goes to rescue her siblings. She barely hears him, she just runs. She’s never felt the grass under her bare feet before, never been scraped by a branch or tripped over roots. She feels it all now, and it just adds to her terror.

When the sun rises, she breaks into a place to find food. The man inside is actually nice to her, helps her. The door opens, and one of the women from the lab comes in. Eleven thinks she’ll help her back home.

The woman shoots the man who helped her.

Eleven is terrified. She doesn’t know what to do, what to think. The man helped her, and the people who were supposed to help her killed him. So she runs again.

She’s lost for a long time, desperately trying to find the address, terrified to talk to anyone in case they are shot next. She steals clothes, food, whatever she can get. Monsters follow her, her magic can barely keep them at bay.

Finally, she figures out the bus stations. She goes to a woman at the counter and hesitantly asks her where the address is. The woman points it out on a map, and tells her how much money a plane ticket will cost. Eleven barely knows what money is, so she instead swipes the map and traces a path.

She had to do a lot of things she’s not proud of to survive out there, to survive the monsters and the humans and the lab that is still hunting her. She doesn’t like to think about it.

She should probably take shelter from the rain as she travels. But for some reason, the storms never bothered her.

She makes it to New York, and then to Long Island. She asks around for the address, not a lot of people know where it is. A lot of them take one look at her filthy appearance and push her away. Then she asks a nice lady, one whose gaze softens. “My son goes to that camp,” she says, something in her voice that tells Eleven she knows something, and expects Eleven to know it too. “I can show you where it is, but I can’t come in.” Eleven shakes her head. She won’t let the woman get hurt because of her. The woman seems to understand. She tells her exactly where to go, even makes her a little map.

A monster appears when she’s almost there. She starts running. She doesn’t want to fight anymore.

She’s too far from the border, trips and falls... and suddenly some kids leap over her.

She can only stare as they fight the monster; they’re her age, but expert at the fight. Like they’ve been training for this their whole lives. One boy has a slingshot with strange gold ammo, which effectively distracts it until the girl with pretty red hair leaps on its back and smashes in its head with a bat. The monster lays on the ground for a moment, and then turns to ash.

A boy is near her then, and his presence is calming. Another boy says that she’s “not Will,” but this first boy is just looking her over. “Are you okay?” he asks, something she hasn’t heard anyone ask in a long time. “Are you hurt?”

She hears more whispers from them. “She’s clearly on her way to camp.” “Where’s her satyr?” “Why is she alone?” “Why is all her hair shaved off?” “Is she deaf?” CLAP! “Not deaf.”

“We need to get her to camp.” “Are you crazy?” “Chiron will kill us.” “Worse, Mr D will give us another lecture on how much he hates us.” “Well what do you suggest?”

The first boy helps her up, putting an arm around her. “Come on,” he says, “It’s the valley past the pine tree. Half-bloods are safe there.”

They get to the camp. They tell her to just go along with what they say, but honestly she’s too dazed and confused to listen. She passes the pine tree and feels some kind of pull to it. She runs her hand across the branches, staring at the golden fleece dangling from the branch.

The kids bring her to one of many beautiful cabins in the valley, calling for “whatever Apollo kid is in here, okay?” They give her food that tastes sweet but good, and she feels a little better. The boys stay there as she falls asleep, and when she wakes they’re having a loud conversation with a man who is half-horse.

They try to talk to her, but it’s hard for either of them to understand each other. Everything they say gets more and more confusing. It turns out there’s a lot she doesn’t know, and it makes her feel small. The first boy finally tells them to stop bothering her and for some reason they listen.

It takes a long time for things to be explained to her. Everyone here has a magic, like her and her siblings. A magic that makes the monsters come. But the magic comes from their parents, the gods of Olympus. When they have children with mortals... people like El happen. This camp is here to protect them.

They are concerned with what little El tells them. That she came from a bad place, that bad people are trying to kill everyone near her. But they assure her that no monsters can come in the gates, and that includes the humans hunting her.

She eventually manages to communicate about the satyr, the goat-man, and they say he was indeed there to help. She feels bad about letting the monsters in then, so she doesn’t mention that part. She just says that he went in for her siblings. “Eighteen kids?” the boy with no front teeth gasps, and the girl with firey red hair elbows him in the ribs.

They manage to conclude that they aren’t her biological siblings, and that several “demigods” were in there. They tell her that they’re sure her satyr will bring them home, and not to worry. She does anyway.

She tells them her name is Eleven, like the number on her wrist. They whisper for a while, and eventually the nice boy comes over and says, “You should have a better name than Eleven. My name’s Mike, short for Michael– we could call you El, short for Eleven.” She sort of likes that.

El is confused the first day. This is a safe place like the lab, but the people here are different. They give her comfortable clothes to wear in bright colors, they let her go where she wants. She spies on the lessons, the training, and it’s different than what she had.

They have food, and she sits with the four children who found her in the woods. They start by asking her if she’s seen a young boy about her age. She shakes her head. They seem disappointed, but not angry. Then they start talking.

Mike has a necklace with lots of beads on it, and when she points to it, he explains, “I’ve been at camp since I was little. You get a bead for every year. At the end of each summer, we get a bead with the biggest summer event painted right onto it.” He explains each of them to her, and she doesn’t understand a lot, but she likes hearing him talk.

She likes the others, too, as they start to talk more about the camp.

She eventually asks who their parents are. The first one to answer is Dustin, who proudly says, “Well, I’m a Hephaestus kid! That means I am really good at building stuff. It’s real easy to make tech do what I want.”

Lucas goes next, explaining that his mother is Athena, the goddess of wisdom and strategy. It makes him a great leader in battle, and very good at planning things out. He also points to a table of his siblings, explaining that the small girl with beads in her hair is his full sister, not just half, her name is Erica and “she will make fun of you. Don’t take it to heart.”

Max is more reluctant to name her god. Finally she relents that her father is “Ares, the god of war.” Dustin says that it means she’s good at fighting, and she stiffens, saying she’d like to think her fighting skills are from her own training and hard work, not from her “asshole dad.”

Mike adds that he is a child of Aphrodite. “Love and beauty.” He gets a little embarrassed when Max jokes that all the Aphrodite kids “end up being super hot,” and says that they have minimal shapeshifting abilities, but “nothing too fancy.”

He points out his big sister Nancy, the head of the cabin. “She doesn’t hang out with us much.” Then he points to a boy sitting near her. “That’s Jonathan. He’s Will’s brother. Will’s missing, we think– are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

Will and Jonathan are their friends, and Will disappeared. They’re worried about him, that the monsters could get to him. That some already did and took him away, and if they got into camp...

“Don’t scare her!” “She should be scared!”

El asks who Will and Jonathan’s parents are. There’s a long pause. Then, Mike admits, “Hades. God of the dead. The Big Three gods– Zeus, Poseidon, Hades– aren’t supposed to have kids, cause they’re too powerful. But... well, Jonathan and Will are here, aren’t they?” “It means a lot of monsters would want Will. So you can see why we’re, um, worried.”

She then asks, “Who is my parent?”

They’re not sure. “But they should claim you before you turn sixteen. You’re, like, twelve, so you got some time, but if you do something big and impressive–” “Don’t encourage her!”

El stays a few more days, and the kids show her around. Apparently they tried to sneak out one night again, only to get yelled at, which woke her up in the hospital cabin. She moved to the Hermes cabin afterwards, where the unclaimed kids went. She meets a few more kids, but they’re not sure how to handle her. Not as much as the “Party,” as they call themselves.

Then a monster gets into the camp.

There are whispers afterwards, that it means someone invited it in, someone in the camp is a traitor. El doesn’t know this when it attacks, she only knows that she is scared and she isn’t safe.

The monster attacks Mike. She sees it charge, and she grows angry. Suddenly she is in front of him, and she throws out her hands and screams. And the heavens open up, and stormclouds swarm, and lightning strikes the monster dead.

She breathes slow to calm down, and turns to make sure Mike is okay. He is, but he’s also staring at her in awe. She looks to the other children, only to see that they aren’t as impressed. Well, they are, but they’re more... scared. Frightened. There’s gasps and whispers and people stumbling back from her.

There’s an image, floating over her head. A bolt of lightning.

And suddenly she is El, Daughter of Zeus, and the world turns upside-down.

#stranger things #percy jackson #camp half blood au #half blood au #el hopper #pjo #mine #connie writes

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mickmackpattywack · 2 years

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The Queen of Fire Meets the King of Hellfire: CH 3 - So, There's This Girl...

ST4 but with Jamie (Nine/009). I used the comic book (Into the Fire) as a rough starting point. Jamie possesses Pyrokinesis (the ability to create/control fire). Starts off when Eddie’s already fled to Reefer Rick’s.

Snippet:

Here goes nothing. “So... there’s this girl... in there” Eddie tilts his head towards the house.

They react, all at the same time:

Max: “Excuse me?”

Robin: “Pardon?”

Steve: “Gross dude, right now?”

Dustin: “Say again?”

Ch2: The Tattoo - Link

Chapter 3 – So, There’s This Girl...

Eddie eats as Jamie looks around the room. “Found it!” says Jamie. She brings it to the kitchen table and opens it. She’s standing over the table, flipping through the pages. She finds the section she was looking for. Her index finger slides down the page, searching. She flips to the next page. She does this with the next couple of pages “Dammit” she says, closing the book.

“What?” asks Eddie.

Jamie sits back down in her chair “She’s not in there.”

“Who?”

Jamie glares at him.

“You know what, I’ll stop asking questions” Eddie takes a swig of his beer.

Jamie’s biting her fingernail, considering opening up a bit to Eddie “My sister... my twin, actually.”

Eddie looks to her.

“She probably moved as far away from me as possible” says Jamie.

“Well, what’s her name? Maybe I can try and find her.”

“No just, forget it.”

“Oh, come on, we’re on a fake first name basis” says Eddie as he takes the last bite of his SpaghettiOs.

She looks to him with a smile “What about a map?”

“Map, right” Eddie stands up and starts to look. He walks into another room, coming out a few moments later “Here we are milady” Eddie opens it up and puts it on the table “Okay so... we’re here” he points his finger on the map to their location “And you were, here” he puts his finger on Pennhurst Mental Hospital. She grows an annoyed look on her face and rolls her eye at him. She continues to look at the map and notices a landmark, she puts her finger over it. Hawkin’s Lab.

“That’s Hawkins Lab” says Eddie “They do Military Research there, or used to, but I guess something went wrong like, six months ago? And it’s been abandoned ever since.”

Images begin to flash in Jamie’s mind again. Fire... She’s screaming... there’s a device with wires on her head... Blood coming from both her nostrils... There are two figures... One of them, on fire. More screaming... Alarms going off. Suddenly, no more screaming... Just the sound of crackling fire... The smell of flesh... burning. Then... darkness.

...

“Are you okay?” asks Eddie.

“Yeah... I’m just, tired” she says rubbing her hands on her face.

“Well, there’s a bed, or a couch.”

“The couch belongs to that spider now.”

Eddie chuckles “I can’t promise the bed will be much better.”

“I’ll risk it” Jamie stands up and begins to walk towards the stairs. She reaches the top of the stairs and turns around, looking down at him “You’ll wake me.. if someone’s here?”

“Absolutely, go get some sleep” says Eddie.

“You seem awfully eager for me to go to sleep. You triple swear, no cops?”

“I promise.”

She awkwardly taps the handrail with her palm, then walks to the bedroom. She slowly closes the door behind her, leaving it cracked open.

Eddie sighs. He walks over to the couch; quickly inspecting it for a spider before sitting.

...

Eddie decides not to try and call them on the walkie, not yet. He needs to figure out what he would even say to them, and to Jamie. He tries to occupy his boredom by throwing crumpled up pieces of phone book paper from where he’s sitting on the couch into a tiny basket on the floor.

He hears what sounds like a car pulling up to the house. Panicking, he runs over to the window and crouches down. He sees that it’s Steve’s car. Steve, Dustin, Robin, and Max get out of the car, carrying what looks like groceries. “Shit” he promised Jamie he wouldn’t tell anyone she was here. But on one hand, she did escape from a mental hospital. And on the other hand, literally everything else that's happened the past 48 hours. Okay, he’ll just talk to them first about his situation and go from there. But not in the house. He runs to the back door, and goes outside to meet them, as they head towards the boathouse.

“Eddie, hey!” says Dustin.

“Hey!” says Eddie.

“What were you doing in the house?” asks Dustin.

They all walk inside the boat house “Oh, I was just looking for more food. Perfect timing” says Eddie.

...

Once they’re inside, Steve leans against a wooden beam on the right, Robin leans on the left wall. Max sits down on a stool to the left side of the boat.

Eddie notices a pack of Yoo-hoo and takes one. He climbs inside the boat and sits down.

“Honeycombs?” asks Dustin holding up the cereal box to Eddie.

“No thanks, just ate” says Eddie.

“I thought you just said you were looking for food?” asks Robin.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, my brain is all over the place, obviously” he reaches out his hand to Dustin and takes the box of cereal. He opens it, taking a handful in his mouth.

Dustin sits down on a stool, on the right side of the boat.

“So, we got, uh, some good news and some bad news” says Dustin “How do you prefer it?”

“Bad news first, always” says Eddie with a mouthful of Honeycombs. He takes a sip of Yoo-hoo.

“All right. Bad news” says Dustin “We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you... Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”

“Like, 100% kind of convinced” says Max.

“And the good news?” asks Eddie.

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet” says Robin “But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do too and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

“Hunt the freak, right?” asks Eddie.

“Exactly” says Robin.

“Shit” says Eddie.

“So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence” says Dustin.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” asks Eddie sarcastically.

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it” replies Dustin.

“Listen, Eddie, I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kind of thing before” says Robin “I mean, they have a... a few times, and... and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this.”

“Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers” says Steve “But, uh, those went bye-bye, so uh.”

“So, we’re technically in more of the—” says Robin.

“Brainstorming phase” says Max.

“Brainstorming” says Steve, snapping his fingers.

“There... There’s nothing to worry about” says Dustin.

Steve nervously laughs, nodding his head in agreement. Eddie looks at them dumbfounded. Are these guys serious?

...

“Well, since everyone is just brimming with confidence, maybe a little too much... and everyone here seems to be okay with lying to their parents, cops, and so forth... I feel like I should tell you guys something... but I really need to know I can trust you with this” says Eddie.

“Eddie, of course you can trust us. I think we've proven that by now” says Dustin.

Here goes nothing. “So... there’s this girl... in there” Eddie tilts his head towards the house.

They react, all at the same time:

Max: “Excuse me?”

Robin: “Pardon?”

Steve: “Gross dude, right now?”

Dustin: “Say again?”

“It’s not like that!” says Eddie

“You said she’s where?” asks Max.

“In the house” says Eddie.

Everyone starts groaning, trying to process the information, Steve throwing both his hands to his head.

“Is she alive?” asks Max.

“Jesus, of course she’s alive! She just showed up out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere, but she doesn’t know who I am, and I don’t think she knows anything about what's going on.”

“Is she a friend of Reefer Rick’s?” asks Dustin.

“No, she- Look I think you guys might be able to help her, I don’t know. You’re helping me and my whole fucked up situation. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone she was here, but I don’t know what to do man, all of this is just too much.”

“Okay” starts Dustin “Okay, we are flexible people if anything, helpful. So, let’s maybe... see what we can do.”

“Excuse me, what if once your name goes public, she goes blabbing to the cops? Oh yeah, I saw that guy, he’s just there yonder” says Robin.

“Yonder?” asks Steve.

“I don’t think she would. She’s kind of in a similar situation. It’s hard to tell, she’s a bit... abrasive” says Eddie.

“When does the drama stop, honestly?” asks Steve.

“I should talk to her” says Dustin.

“Why you?” asks Max.

“Because I’m the most personable. And look at this smile! She won’t be intimidated.”

“Fine, but I’m going with you, obviously” says Eddie.

“Woah, woah, woah, pause! Everyone, can we just think a little more here before we act. What are you even going to say to her?” asks Robin.

“If Eddie isn’t concerned about her running off to the cops, then we need to try. He said she needs help” says Dustin.

Suddenly, the sound of police sirens. Everyone freezes.

“Oh, she totally ratted you out!” says Steve.

“Tarp!” says Robin “Tarp! Tarp!”

Eddie quickly hides under the tarp. The rest of the group runs to the window. They watch as cop cars and an ambulance fly by the house and toward the trailer park.

“They’re not stopping here” says Max “Looks like they’re headed to the trailer park.”

Eddie slowly gets out from under the tarp. His heart racing, his life flashed before his eyes, thinking this was it.

“I wonder what’s going on” says Robin.

“Only one way to find out” says Steve.

“Should we split up? asks Robin.

“I’ll stay” says Max “Maybe having a girl there while you talk to her will help. How... old is she?”

“I don’t know. Our age?” says Eddie, gesturing go himself, Robin, and Steve.

“Is everyone cool with splitting up?” asks Dustin.

There’s a mutter of “Yeah’s” and head nodding.

“Okay, let’s do it” says Dustin “Everyone, as always, keep your walkies close.”

Ch4: Mad Max - Link

Ch5: Are You A Nerd? - Link

Ch6: Hey, Freak! - Link

Ch7: Skull Rock - Link

Ch8: I'll Follow You Into Mordor - Link

Ch9: Watergate - Link

Ch10: Jamie, A Little Help?! - Link

Ch11: It’s All A What? - Link

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x original female character #eddie munson x oc #009 #nine #superpowers #eddie munson fluff #eventual smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut

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solemn-siren · 1 year

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Storm's calamity: Chapter seven

Chapter seven: Seal the Deal

Previous chapter: Calamity in sight

A/N: Well October was pretty busy! I wrote two theories regarding The Baron and her relationship with the royal family, finished up the Witch's Heart, and started writing non Poptropica stuff on my Quotev! School is also a thing too and it happens to be exam season too. Oh and Pokemon Scarlet and Violet is soon.

Anyways enjoy Chapter Seven of Storm's Calamity!

Also Gwendolyn will soon be getting her own origin story similar to Witch's Heart! it will also be published on the PHB so keep an eye out there. Did I mention it would be longer :eyes: (The boys will get theirs too don't worry.)

There I was, walking in the forests of Monster Carnival island, my home island. It was the weekend where School wasn't there to bother me. I could go wherever I wanted whenever I wished.

Most kids in my school went shopping with their families, played video games at home, watched TV, or anything you expect kids to do these days. Instead I would take a walk in the forest, especially the ruins of the old carnival attractions. Something about knowing this place was once full of human life and fun, but was now abandoned and overtaken by nature, was fascinating.

"Come on Gwen! Let's see if we can find any treasure today!" I was too distracted by the haunting thought of the rollercoaster to notice my best friend, Lynx, had ran ahead of me. You see, because this place was abandoned, it meant people left behind strange objects. Lynx and I loved coming here and scavenging whatever we could.

"Look at this! It's a treasure map!" Lynx exclaimed, holding up a piece of paper. It was old but there was a magical charm about it. Lynx held it up excitedly, admiring every detail about it.

it was then a large net was thrown in our direction, capturing Lynx and causing the map to fly out of her hands. I caught it before it got too far away.

"Who's there?!" I demanded, gripping onto the map tightly and looking around. A strange hooded figure jumped out from the trees, a knife in their hands.

"Give me the map." They demanded in a strong and serious voice. "Or I'll take your friend's heart instead..."

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

I woke up gasping for breath. Thank god it was only a dream.

The sleeping quarters of the blimp was deserted, meaning everyone else had woken up already. It was 9.30am. I really did oversleep.

Just 5 days ago Alouette, Maverick, Felix and I left camp to head to mystery of the map island. Who even gave that island a name that long? Shouldn't it be Viking island? What does a map have to do with any of this? Whoever named that island needs to do a better job.

Once I got changed I went out to the deck where everyone was just doing their own thing. Alouette was driving the Blimp, Maverick was doodling stuff on the map, and Felix was carving something at the back. That kid has been doing that for the whole 5 days. I haven't seen him sleep once.

"Good morning Gwen you're late." Alouette said, waving her wand and summoning a plate of pancakes in my hands. "Not long to go."

"why are you the one driving the Blimp?" I asked.

"Can't trust either of the boys with it." She answered, carrying out multiple tasks with her magic. "Maverick would drive this blimp like a maniac and Felix would probably crash this somewhere." "Crash this somewhere?" I asked. "We're talking about some guy who managed to crash his own plane in the middle of a peaceful night." Alouette whispered, glancing at Felix. "Plus, you've seen his actions. He's so going to backstab us." --------------------

The rest of the flight went uninterrupted. We finally arrived at our destination, and because it is too long I will not say where we arrived. It's what the island gets for having a long name.

The walk to the viking settlement also went uninterrupted. The jungle was peaceful, we could actually finish our job here pretty quickly.

Or so I thought.

When we arrived at the actual settlement, there were guards patrolling the fortress perimeters, looking out for someone, or something. When we arrived we were able to get in since Amelia did let the leader know we were coming. But something really was off.

"Erik the Red, the visitors you were expecting have arrived." One of the guards explained as we were lead to the throne room. Sitting on a throne with a shiny goblet in his hands was a man with Red hair and a beard, with a large hat on his head. He looked like he was ready to let out his anger anytime.

"Amelia's children huh." The Red man said, drinking from his goblet. "They really are children. Anyways Amelia explained there's some sort of vision and prophecy that I, Erik the Red, would understand." I nodded and was about to recite the prophecy but then Erik went into his angry mode.

"However! Some Thief stole our precious treasure and we're yet to find the thief!" He shouted, his voice causing my heartbeat to speed up. "Thor's amulet. It is very important to us. So let's make a deal then. Find the thief, bring back Thor's amulet, and we will share everything we know."

Well no isn't an option here. -------------------- Alouette is searching around the fortress, Maverick is searching the nearby camp, and Felix is searching the Jungle, and I'm stuck with the dodos and the nearby waterfall.

"Dodos are mean birds." Alouette explained as we all split up to our respective areas. "They will come after you if you have food." "Unless you hunt them down first! They're delicious." Maverick added. Yea totally helpful.

"Would be kind of funny if a dodo really did steal Thor's amulet." I muttered to myself, climbing up the nest and not disturbing the dodos. They are mean, I will understand that and move on. Their nests seemed empty, and those with items inside didn't have anything amulet like.

As I climbed down I felt something whizzing past my neck, killing an unfortunate dodo behind me. I grabbed my dagger and jumped down from the nest, scaring even more dodos.

"Who's there?! Thief?" I demanded, showing whoever that I had a weapon. There was silence, but after a while a man appeared from the trees, and my heart stopped.

This was the same man who trapped Lynx and threatened to kill her years ago. And potentially a thief. Wait no definitely.

Octavian.

#storm's calamity #poptropica story #poptropica

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patches-and-her-selfships · 1 year

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💛💙💜 for trophy!!

Ugh, you look like a total loser… but I do have to do this whole f/ovember thing, and Lensy’ll kill me if I just delete your ask or something, so whatever, I’ll just swallow my pride for a minute and answer your stupid questions. 🙄

💛 if s/i were a colour, an animal and a place, what would they be?

What kind of a question is that? Ah, whatever, I’ll just get this one over with. Lensy would probably be blue, cause y’know, that’s the color of their face.

And an animal… probably some kind of monkey, because she’s really good at getting into high places to film, and they’re also… well not really angry, but when someone makes Lensy upset, she’s not afraid to give them a piece of her mind. I know that’s happened to me a couple times, heh…

And… a place? Really? How do you expect me to answer that? That’s a shitty question. *starts looking up google maps* I can’t believe I have to fucking do this… I dunno, maybe those marble caves in Patagonia? Y’know, the cool ones that are all swirly and blue and stuff? Yeah, I like those ones because they remind me of Lensy and those spirals on their face. And they’re almost as pretty as her, too, heh…

💙 do the two of you have a shared morning or evening/night routine?

Eh, we don’t really do much at Hotel OJ cause we’re not really in the competition, so our routine’s pretty simple.

We wake up (usually in Lensy’s bed cause I’m sick and tired of having Tissues’ snot all over me), brush out teeth, go down and eat whatever OJ and Paper cook up for us, Lensy goes to work and I get roped up in whatever bullshit Cheesy and the other guys get into. When Lensy finally gets home at god knows when (I’ve seen them walk into Hotel OJ at 3 in the morning and fucking collapse at the doorway, had to carry the poor guy to their room), we usually kiss and cuddle and all that other stuff before heading to bed for the night.

Like I said, not very interesting. But I have to admit, Lensy makes the whole “being at Hotel OJ with a bunch of losers” thing a bit more bearable.

💜 what is something you would like to say to s/i right now?

Well, I’m not the mushy type, but fuck it, Lensy needs to hear this as much as I need to say it.

Lensy, I admit, I’m not very smart. And I’ll also admit that, yeah, I’m a total asshole. But I know I enjoy having you around.

It didn’t used to be that way, cause we both used to hate each other’s guts and all that (and for good reason), but once we both realized we had to change ourselves… everything else changed. When I swallowed my pride and learnt to tolerate you, I realized that you weren’t the bitter, short-tempered person I assumed you were. You’re bright, smart, bold, funny, nice, and one of the best people a jock like me could ever ask for. And when I saw who you really were, I fell hard. I didn’t want to admit it cause I was kinda… scared of losing that whole jock image everyone knew me for, but I really was in love with you. And when you found that out, you helped me realize that being in love is nothing to be scared of. You taught me what love really meant, and I’d like to thank you for that.

And even though our love hasn’t changed, I know you can. You’ve come a long way from where you started, and I know you can go even further. And if you’ve managed to win over this asshole, then you must be doing something right.

So don’t beat yourself up about the things you’ve done. You’re a nice guy, and even though we’ve both done bad things before, our pasts do not define us. So keep looking forward and improving yourself as much as you can, even if you feel like you can’t.

And when you’re doing all of that, just know that I’ll always be by your side. Always. Cause if you’re gonna fight, it’s always good to have someone in your corner.

-Trophy

#YAY I DID IT I ANSWERED THE ASK FINALLY #IT TOOK TWO DAYS BUT I DID IT YIPPEEEE #i had to make sure it was comprehensible #and somewhat in character for trophy #so sorry if this one seemed mean #because he’s not really a nice guy #i mean he’s nice for me but for everyone else ehhhhh 😬#ping pong except it's not ping pong #you won my heart 🏆#f/ovember

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake.

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful.

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much.

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps.

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok.

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce.

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way.

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

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Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom.

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised.

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind.

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker smut #henry cavill

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