#also i have like three OC that I am dying to bring to light! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Can you write something with Chishiya and Y/N when she almost died in game beacuse of Niragi but didn't tell anyone about this (he tripped her on purpouse or smth). Chishiya finds her up on the roof few days later really anxious+crying beacuse her visa is ending and she is scared that Niragi will come and play the same game as her and will try to do something bad. Chishiya becames really protective over her especially when he sees her bruised knees.

Here you go!

Comfort Zone | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, OC’s, Hatter)

Summary: You came close to dying due to being attacked by Niragi, and you fear it will happen again during the next game. Chishiya notices your anxiety and tries his best to prevent it from happening.

Warnings: mention of murder, swearing, blood, violence (punching)

Word Count: 3.9k

*reader is female

“Just my luck,” you groaned out, lifting yourself to your feet by using a chair nearby for leverage. “Not only am I clumsy as fuck, I’m also stuck with a group of murderers.”

Hatter had suggested you go with a few of the militants for the next game, as he wished for them to test you to see if you were capable enough to join them.

It was a hearts game called Capture The Flag. It was very self explanatory. You had to capture the opposite team’s flag and bring it back to your base without getting killed by them. The game would continue until a flag was captured, and the losing team would have their small bomb strapped to their chest explode as soon as the flag was returned to the team’s base. So theoretically, you could die at any second. And if that wasn’t stressful enough, everyone carried weapons, ranging from machete’s to revolvers, so you were on high alert.

You were on the same team as a muscular militant woman named Ren and a much younger kid (he looked around fifteen years old) called Minato. But of course, Niragi had to be placed on your team, bringing you nothing but more trouble.

The room you stood in was dark and ominous. You managed to trip over a few shards of glass and impact on the ground heavily, causing your hip to throb in pain as you attempt to recover from the fall.

You had been separated from your group. You managed to sneak off without them noticing, just rather being on your own than with others. You thought you had a better chance by yourself anyway, as no one was there to betray you.

In the Borderland, you didn’t know who to trust, so you kept to yourself.

The brightness of your game phone flashed a light green, reminding you of what colour team you were on. You had to search for a base that was illuminated by a blue light and take the flag that was supposedly meant to be there. But so far, you hadn’t seen any indication of the other team. You hadn’t even seen any of the other players now that you thought about it.

You made your way out of the empty room you had just checked, peeking around the corner down the hall before stepping out of the doorframe. The small bomb strapped to your chest over your shirt felt heavy on your frame, especially knowing that it held your life in its hands.

You sighed loudly and rubbed your hands together to relieve the tension in your muscles slightly. You had to be close, surely. You had been walking around the abandoned hospital for ages, as if you hadn’t at least walked past the enemy’s base and missed it somehow.

Just as you were about to turn the corner to the main corridor, a whispered grunt made you stop in your tracks. You held your breath and pressed yourself against the cold wall next to you, trying to listen to any movements they make.

The sounds of rustling met your ears, making you frown. It sounded like someone was trying to find something in their pocket, moving around the objects until they’ve found what they need.

You slowly peeked one eye around the corner, making sure not to accidentally hit the wall or fall forwards in fear of the person being an enemy player. Good news, it wasn’t. But seeing someone on your team wasn’t much reassurance either, as all three of them seemed to be clinically insane.

Niragi was crouching over a dead body. A game phone was thrown to the side on the ground a few feet away, emitting a bright blue light. The dead person must have been on the blue team.

The blood pooled around the body, Niragi’s boot being in one of the puddles.

‘Why didn’t I hear the gunshots?’ you asked yourself, watching as Niragi rummaged through the pockets of the guy’s jacket. He was probably looking for another weapon or perhaps something to assist him in the game.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed a slight blue tinge on the fabric of Niragi’s shirt. You turned your head the other way down the hall, eyes lighting up at the sight of a bright fluorescent blue light coming from around the corner. That must’ve been the enemies base.

You glanced back quickly to Niragi, noting he was busy with the corpse, still searching through their pockets. Perhaps you could make it if you were quiet enough.

You slowly lifted a foot while keeping your eyes pinned to the man down the hall, ready to dive back behind the wall if he decided to turn around. When your whole body had left the comfort of the darkened hallway you came from, you turned and quickly shuffled down the hall towards the light, looking over your shoulder every now and then.

When you had turned the corner, you let out a sigh in relief. “Fuck,” you rasped out, wiping your sweating brow with the back of your wrist. “If only I came with Chishiya, I wouldn’t be so cautious.”

You entered a room a few steps in front of you that had a door slightly ajar with the blue light pushing through. You squinted your eyes as you opened the door at the brightness of the light, covering your eyes and hissing lightly.

When your eyes adjusted, you felt a euphoric feeling fill your body when you caught sight of the blue flag resting against the wall. You immediately scrambled over and gripped the wood, feeling the sweet ecstasy of victory and being able to live another few days.

You walked out of the room flag in hand. But as soon as you exited the door, your game phone rang loudly, making you freeze in your spot.

“Green Team has now obtained Blue Flag.”

Your breath became lodged in your throat and you felt your fist tighten on the flag pole. If the game announced it to the rest of the players, they were going to come after you.

Your fear was proven correct when you heard loud footsteps down the hall, making its way to your position. You knew it was Niragi, but the fact that he was on your team gave you slight reassurance. He wouldn’t hurt someone he’s meant to be working with, right?

You couldn’t be so sure, so you pulled out the fairly sized knife that you had sneaked into your pocket before leaving for the game. There was nowhere you could run. Down the hall was the only exit you had.

Before you knew it, the angered face of Niragi turned the corner and you locked eyes. He glanced down at the large knife you held at your side, then at the flag. A smirk painted on his face and he chuckled cockily.

“You think you can defend yourself with that piece of shit?” he asked you, taking a few threatening steps towards your frame. Your feet remained planted on the ground, trying not to appear as panicked as you actually were. “Everyone’s going to come here, and you’re going to fend them off with a kitchen knife?”

You felt belittled from his mocking, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “The fuck else am I supposed to do?” you asked, pointing the tip of the knife in his direction.

Silence filled the air as you and Niragi had a stare down. The grip he held on his rifle tightened whenever you shifted, never failing to make your heart skip a fearful beat.

“Princess,” he started with a sickening pet name, “why don’t you give the flag to me? I’ll protect you.” His sudden change in mood gave you whiplash and you took a step back in confusion, still holding your weapon towards him.

“What?” you muttered out, a bamboozled expression on your face. “I said, pass the flag to me. I’ll make sure we’ll be okay,” he answered while slinging his gun to his side a bit too casually for your comfort.

You watched as he fiddled with the bullet compartments of his rifle. He seemed to have been checking the ammo, making you realise what he was intending.

You shook your head, trying to sound normal, but the slight shakiness in your voice made you quite obvious. “It’s fine Niragi,” you insisted, “I can get it to our base myself.”

He glanced up at your frame as he closed the bullet compartment to his rifle. His serious expression made your adrenaline kick in and your hands began to shake, becoming obvious from the way the tip of the knife was quivering.

“Fine,” he muttered out, basically snarling at you. “I’ll do this the hard way.”

His words made your expression drop and before you could even think, Niragi swung the butt of his rifle and socked you across the side of your head, making you fall to the ground abruptly and drop the blue flag. You groaned in pain, and yet you didn’t even get a second to recover before Niragi blew another hit to your shoulder, kicking you harshly in the stomach at the same time.

You suffocated on nothing, becoming winded from his kick. Gasping for air, you attempted to crawl away from the violent man, shuffling on your hands and knees. Another hit to your lower back brought you to your stomach and you gagged at the sudden feeling.

Luckily, Niragi had quit abusing you and reached down next to your bruised body to pick up the blue flag. “Maybe next time, be careful what you say to me,” he hissed into your ear before standing up and walking away from you.

You laid on the floor for a short moment, trying to compose yourself and control your breathing once again. When you finally came to your senses, you lifted yourself up from the ground while groaning in pain. You had to find a hiding spot, otherwise the Blue Team would find you at their base and kill you.

You used the wall for support as you stood up, bones cracking and blood dripping down the side of your face. You lifted your hand and pressed against your throbbing head, wincing as the pain rocketed from your action.

‘At least he didn’t kill me,’ you thought to yourself. A bright shimmer caught your eye and you turned your head to see your weapon laying on the ground. A grumble left your body as you leant down to pick it up, admiring the way the blue light reflected off it.

You leant against the wall and slowly made your way down the hall, searching for a small cabinet or anywhere that you could hide for the next ten minutes or so. You got a wave of relief when you spotted a cleaner’s cupboard just down the corridor, stumbling towards it.

When you pulled yourself inside the dark cupboard and closed the door, you allowed yourself to slide down against the cold wall, feeling a few tears slip from your eyes.

All you had to do was wait for Niragi to get the flag back to the Green Base and you would be fine, hopefully.

***************

You dragged your exhausted body towards your hotel room, your legs throbbing in pain at every step you climbed. You had decided against going back to the hotel in the car with the other militants, as you didn’t want to deal with the tension of sitting next to the man who almost killed you. Plus, the car would hold half the amount of people it left the hotel with, probably making the atmosphere more eerie.

The door of your hotel room felt heavy as you pushed it open, stumbling into the cold room. You groaned in frustration at your past self. Why didn’t you leave your heater on before you left?

You let out a deep sigh before falling backwards onto your bed, spreading your arms out wide to feel the comforting blankets underneath you. Your eyes closed in content, trying so hard to ignore the pain on the side of your head and your knees.

The blankets shifted underneath your tired frame as you rolled over, pulling the duvet over yourself in the process. You didn’t even have the energy to turn your body so you could place your head on the pillow, so you simply slipped into unconsciousness in the position you laid in, hoping for a better day to come tomorrow.

Whilst you travelled to dreamland in your mind, a short blonde man stood outside your door, knocking lightly on the wood. When Chishiya received no response, he lightly turned the silver door knob and peaked his head into the room. A soft sigh of relief left him when you saw you safe and sound, asleep on your bed. He had been worried from how you were acting as you slumped to your room, noticing that you seemed more tired than usual.

Chishiya walked into the room and quickly shut the door behind him, holding the doorknob until it was completely shut to avoid the clicking noise. He tip-toed towards your frame and admired your sleeping self, his lips curling up at the sight.

“Get some sleep love,” he whispered, running the back of his hand softly down your cheek to sooth you. “You need it.”

Before Chishiya left the room, he tucked the blanket tighter around your body so you stayed warm and gave you a soft peck on your forehead. He glanced back once more before stepping out of the room. He headed back to his own hotel room to get some sleep, feeling content that the person he cares for most was okay.

**************

As the days of your visa grew fewer, your dread grew bigger. Thoughts from your last game bounced around your head, continuing to come back to you in the most random of times. Sometimes you would feel an imaginary harsh kick to your back in your dreams, causing you to wake up abruptly, covered in sweat. You couldn’t escape the fear of Niragi attempting to kill you again. If you managed to run into him again like in the last game, it would be a guarantee that he wouldn’t let you off the hook again.

Just the thought of Niragi blasting a few bullets from his sniper through your head brought you the irrational belief that that was your future. No matter how hard you attempted to shake it, it found its way back into your mind.

The stars shone in the sky, glistening against the endless ceiling of darkness and winking at you from above. It felt foreign to see such sights in the world you lived in, where everything seemed to hold some kind of darkness behind it. Even the label of ‘Utopia’ on The Beach was a complete lie.

You huffed in a stressful tone, hanging your head low and rubbing your eyes with your hands as you leaned your elbows on the railing. The minutes before the next game were becoming less and less. If only you had one more day on your visa, you could potentially avoid all the bullshit that Niragi brought with him everywhere he went.

Hatter had informed you that Niragi was taking you to another game, as he didn’t get to properly assess your skills last time. He was making you go because that night was the night your visa ended. You didn’t have a choice.

Before you knew it, small droplets of tears escaped your eyes, cascading down your face and dripping off your chin. You felt helpless and scared. You could do nothing but wait for the fire alarms to ring to indicate Hatter’s speech before everyone left for their own games. It felt like your time on the roof was lasting forever, so you tried to drag out your time there as long as you could.

You closed your eyes and lifted your head high, letting the cold air swim around your face and bring you comfort. “This isn’t fucking fair,” you stated bluntly to yourself.

It wasn’t. Why did the world think you deserved this kind of stress? You never asked to be in the Borderland. You never asked to be involved with these people. Why did you have to be thrown into this mess?

The sound of light footsteps ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to whip your head around and lock eyes with Chishiya, who froze a few metres away. Your face visibly relaxed at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling weakly as he lifted his hands in defence from your paranoid actions.

“Hey Chishiya,” you greeted him, turning your back and wiping your tears from your eyes. “Sorry, I’ll be down soon. Just give me a minute.”

Chishiya frowned at your shaky voice, approaching your frame and placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You turned your face to him and his eyes displayed concern as soon as they met with your teary ones. “Wait, baby why are you crying?” he asked, placing a hand on the small of your back and another cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

You shook your head and gave a fake smile, not wanting to tell Chishiya what had happened. “It’s fine. I’m just getting a bit stressed for tonight.”

Chishiya eyebrows furrowed at your answer, noticing how you bit your lip after your sentence. You only ever did that when you were lying.

His eyes glanced up towards the small gash on the side of your head. “How did this happen?” he questioned you, lifted his hand to run a gentle thumb over the injury. You glanced at him nervously as he waited for an answer.

“Oh that? It’s nothing. I just managed to trip over and smack my head on the wall during the last game. You know me, such a clumsy idiot,” you tried to laugh it off.

Chishiya didn’t buy it for a second. He moved his gaze to the rest of your body, searching for any more injuries. He had had enough of your lying when he saw your bruised knees, dried blood around the edges of small cuts from earlier when you accidentally reopened them.

“Y/N, what happened the other day? Who did this to you?” Chishiya asked in a serious tone, wrapping his hands around your neck and holding you protectively. “These look bad Y/N. I’ll have to treat them for you.”

You nodded, looking down at the ground. Chishiya lifted your chin with his finger to make you have eye contact. “You going to tell me what happened?”

You let out a big sigh, accepting the fact that you can’t hide literally anything from Chishiya. He knew you too well.

“Look, it’s fine Chishiya. Niragi just got mad at me during a game. You know how he is. I’m honestly glad that he didn’t do anything else,” you explained, watching as Chishiya’s face contorted into anger at your confession.

He fell silent, making you more tense. You knew Chishiya was really aggravated when he went completely silent.

“Niragi did this to you?” he asked scarily calmly, running a soft hand over the gash on your head again. You nodded, leaning against his touch.

“Alright. You stay with me tonight. I don’t care what Hatter has asked from you. You stick by my side and don’t let go of my hand,” Chishiya demanded you, pulling you into a comforting hug. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I love you,” he whispered out, giving you a soft smooch on your cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

You shook your head in denial. “Don’t be baby. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Chishiya smiled happily at your words, pulling back from the hug and giving you a loving kiss on your lips. You both held each other close, moving your mouths against one another’s intimately.

You felt safe in Chishiya’s arms and he felt safe in yours. And that’s where both of you were intending to stay as long as possible.

****************

You sat on Chishiya’s small bed, admiring as the young man wiped carefully over the dried blood on your knees. He was being so careful, holding you by the underneath of your knee and making sure not to press too hard on your bruises.

You had returned from the game you attended with Chishiya. Before the game commenced, you both hid on the roof so Niragi or Hatter wouldn’t come looking for you, wanting to take you to the game. You waited until most cars had left before making your way down to the bottom floor, climbing into the last car together that only held two other people you didn’t know.

Chishiya made sure to keep you by his side the entire game, not letting go of your hand once. At some point you were afraid he was going to sacrifice himself for you, as he wasn’t acting too far from it. His protective side had kicked in and he wasn’t taking your situation lightly.

At some point you both had to hide from an attacker. Chishiya had shoved you both into the corner of a small room, shielding your entire body with his with both of his hands against the walls, keeping you trapped in and hidden. The action alone was enough to make you realise how much Chishiya actually cared, how afraid he actually was of losing you.

“All done,” the blonde announced, breaking you from your thoughts. You grinned as he glanced up at you, giving you a cheeky wink. He shifted up the bed and leant against the headboard beside you. “Are you okay?” he asked once again, his fingers lightly running along your thigh soothingly. You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about Niragi,” Chishiya reassured you after a short moment of silence. You looked up at him from his shoulder. “Why not?” you asked.

Chishiya gave a cocky smirk and ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll make sure to give him a piece of my mind,” he said in a monotone voice as usual.

You chuckled at his words before placing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m sure you will,” you laughed.

Chishiya smiled happily and turned his body. He picked you up slightly and made you lie down before placing himself next to your frame. You rolled over to face him, not even getting a chance to breath before his lips were on yours.

His kiss was passionate, running his tongue along your lips to ask for you to open them. You obliged, letting him have his way with you. You ran your fingers up underneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin shiver underneath you touch. He groaned at the feeling, pushing himself closer to you and placing one hand on the back of your neck while the other dragged lazy patterns along your bare hip.

You two held each other close, getting lost and drunk on the thoughts and feelings of one another. No one could make each of you feel the way you made each other feel. In Chishiya’s arms you felt safe and content, making all the terrible things around you disappear. And for Chishiya, you made him feel sane again. You made him remember that he was human, he was allowed to have human emotions and make mistakes.

You brought a sense of comfort to one another, and clearly Chishiya wasn’t willing to let anything come between you both.

639 notes · View notes

seungsilog · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Someone, I’ll Be Better Off Without You.

Pairing: Female!OC x Lee Minho

Genre: Angst, College!AU

Word Count: 1.16k words

Warnings: mentions of someone in a slump(?), insecurities, breakup

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @puffyjisung (send me an ask or dm me if you want to be added!)

Good morning, afternoon, evening, whatever time you’re listening to this! Welcome to the podcast, where I, Han Jisung, your host — speaking of, should I find a DJ name for myself too? Like, that one podcast has DJ Joohoney right? I should think of something for myself.

Anyways, continuing on! This episode, a letter has been written by our Music Director, Ina! I won't make this too long, as this episode might get too long. I asked for a letter, not a novel. If only you guys can see this, holy crap. It's like 3 pages back to back, oh my gosh. I would read this all on air but it would take ages, so we just shortened the letter and might just publish this letter on our website! I doubt you would be able to read Ina's chicken scrawl, though— ok geez, I'll start! Stop looking at me like that!

Dear Someone,

I'm better off I’ll be better off without you.

Do you remember when we first met? It was freshman year, during the university's festival. You weren't as confident back then, sticking to your group of friends most of the time. The only time you left their side was when they convinced you to talk to me after they saw you sneaking a peek at me. Looking back now, I cringe thinking about our origin story, but freshman Ina thought it was cute. So cute, in fact, that I let you take me out on a date the day after. And even though you spilt soda on me five minutes into the date, the giant stuffed cat and the shy peck on the cheek made it all better.

Fast forward two years, and you managed to weasel your way into my life. You became my best friend, my lover, my anchor all in one. College life was hard, but the assurance that you would be sitting in our spot in the coffee shop on campus, waiting with my favorite drink fueled me to get through my day.

But as many positives there were with you, the negatives were also there.

I became too comfortable. I stood only within the confines of my little bubble consisting of schoolwork and my relationship with you. Everything was just the same, repeating day after day, and it took a toll on me. I made my whole life revolve around you, and somewhere along the line, I forgot that there is more to life besides those two things.

I never really improved from who I was when I entered college, but you certainly have. No longer were you the timid, puffy-faced boy I met back then. You’ve come so far, becoming one of the most confident, talented people this school has ever produced, and I can’t help but feel proud every time I realize that.

Sadly, I can’t say the same for myself.

I love you. I love you so much, Lee Minho. Thank you for always being there, for the past two years. I’ll always be proud of you, but I need to take some time to improve myself so that hopefully, i can be someone you can be proud of too. This self-improvement journey of mine might take some time, but as my mother used to say, if we are truly meant to be together, destiny will find its way to bring us together once again. See you around, I guess.

Forever grateful,

Ina.

P.S. I think I used the wrong phrase on my keyword, so I erased it aha. I started this letter in spite... so yeah. I’m not sure if I really will be better off without you, but I guess only time will tell.

Han Jisung’s voice floated through the earbuds and into Lee Minho’s ears as he sat in an armchair, eyes filled with unshed tears. He hadn't known she felt that way towards herself, and if only he had communicated with her better-

He cuts off his inner monologue after seeing a familiar face approach his table.

“I take it you’ve listened to Jisung’s new podcast episode, hyung?” Hwang Hyunjin, with his freshly dyed black hair, takes a seat in front of Minho, ignoring the older’s protests and settling down with his croissant and iced americano. “Come on, hyung. You can talk to me about this. We’ve known each other for ages!”

“And by ages, you mean half a year?”

“Tomato tomato. It feels way longer. I think being coped up in a studio with each other has that effect.”

“... Touche.”

“ So? How do you feel?” the younger boy inquires, taking a sip from his americano.

Minho took a while to respond, thinking of words to properly describe how he felt at that moment.

“If I’m being honest? I don’t have a clue either. It’ll take a lot for me to get over Ina.” After taking a sip of his own drink, he continued. “Two years, almost three isn’t a short time. It was through her that I became who I am today. It was because of her, that I strived to become a better person. It was because of her that I was able to grow, but..” A soft sigh escaped his lips.

“But at the cost of my growth came her dullness.” Hyunjin made a noise of confusion, muffled by the bread stuffed in his mouth. “Woft dwoh yu mean, hyunf?”

“The thing that really drew me to her that day was just how… vibrant she was. Well, she was standing below a streetlight, but really. It sounds cliche, but if only you could’ve seen her. Wearing a bright yellow shirt, talking excitedly about how fun this experience was going to be. She was truly the light of the party back then, well, college happened. We’re all busy, but they were especially. Even Channie disappears for days at a time coped up in his room to finish a project. He only got a significant other this year! Ina barely had any time to do anything else aside from meeting me and doing schoolwork. I guess she realized that, and uh, yeah. That brings us here.” Minho looked up at Hyunjin, only to see him invested in something on his phone.

“ Yah, why did I even bother telling you.”

You see, dear listeners. Sometimes, relationships don’t turn out the way we want it to go. We think entering a new thing will all be sunshine and rainbows, and it might lead to an ultimatum; having to choose between self-gratification and self-improvement. In Ina’s case, she chose to leave not because she lost feelings, because that’s definitely not the case- ouch! When will you stop throwing things at me? But yes, she chose to leave because she wanted to grow, wanted to get herself out there for a bit, just as hyung had done. That does not mean that all hope is lost for them, though. Maybe someday, when the both of them are ready, their romance will continue again.

-`, leri’s litol notes

here is the second installment! ;-; i hope you guys like it hehe

#districtninewriters #stray kids imagines #lee know #lee know imagines #lee know angst #stray kids angst #stray kids ff #skz imagines #skz fics #dear someone universe

48 notes · View notes

generalfoolish · 4 years ago

Text

Feel The Heat

Part Three: Architect

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, implied drinking and driving (hey! don't do this!), some making out, mentions of sex but no actual sex, and some trauma reflection.

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: Idiocy continues. June and Frankie have a date, and a sleepover.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for this one in advance. She's not my best. She's also a hundred percent filler. We love her because she's necessary, though. I know it's a little shorter, but I have finals and a million other ideas keeping me from putting the work in. Also, I kind of like where I left it. Feel free to yell at me. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Four

June took another sip of the wine, she had nearly drained the bottle; and she didn’t even want to know what number beer Frankie was on, but it was good. They had been propped up in the restaurant for long enough that the waiter stopped coming over.

“So what’s Fish about? I’m dying to know.” She asked brazenly, her cheeks tinged pink from the wine, and though her lipstick was long gone, her lips were stained red.

“Ah, I was wondering if you were gonna ask. It’s...not interesting.” He finally said, and they both laughed. “I like to fish, and the spot I go to has a bunch of catfish. I’ve been that way since forever, and in basics the name just stuck. Catfish, that is. The guys shortened it later to just Fish, which is...unfortunate.” June leaned forward on her elbows, and listened. She realized she was in trouble. This man could make anything sound interesting.

“Why’d they need to shorten it? Catfish is pretty easy to say.” She mused, more to herself than him. He took a sip of his beer.

“It was in spec ops, and it was just a mouth full during the shit.” He told her, glancing down. She took the hint.

“Do you eat catfish? I don’t really like it.” She admitted.

“What? No, that can’t be right. It’s great.” He laughed, and took another sip.

“Yeah, great if you love eating a muddy bottom-feeder.” She retorted, rolling her eyes.

“You like shellfish? Lobster? Because, I got news for you.” He said, smirking, and she laughed.

“Can you cook it?”

“Of course, I can.” He scoffed.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to cook some for me.” She teased lightly, the alcohol swimming in her mind.

“No way.” He said flatly. Her face fell, and he continued. “You want to eat it, you gotta catch it first.” She grimaced and shook her head.

“Not so much for fishing.” She explained, dropping her eyes from his gaze.

“What do you do then? Besides, follow my every movement.” He added playfully and she laughed.

“I took up gardening recently.” She reminded him, tilting her wine cup towards him. Samantha wasn’t too far off, he was pretty great.

“It’s a little late in the season, to start.” He told her gently. She squared her shoulders before letting them fall.

“Yeah. I had this great plan, until I thought about it at all. Day drinking has gotten me into more difficult spots though.” She huffed out a laugh. “See, there’s this grumpy farmer I wanted to impress. I wanted to...well, it sounds stupid now, but I wanted to prove that I wasn’t just a pretty face. I was going to bring you something I had grown.” She laughed, and wiped her eyes. “I didn’t think about growing seasons, or the fact that it takes a miserably long time for anything to actually grow.” He laughed with her easily, and she smiled.

“I can’t wait to see what you grow, and I hope you’ll consider me when you have to give most of it away so it doesn’t spoil.” He chuckled, but she could tell he was being earnest.

“I also write.” She blurted out. She was looking to change the subject before it got too deep, before they could get tangled in the implications, and the first thing that came to mind was something she hadn’t told anyone. Ever. The only person who knew she wrote was her publicist, and even she knew June under her pseudonym. She flushed, and tried to backpedal. “I mean it’s not a big deal. It’s really just like not a big deal at all.” He studied her face carefully, before speaking.

“Sounds like not a big deal,” He repeated, each word weighted. “But, if you ever want to tell me about it, I would love to hear.” He smiled and leveled his gaze at hers. She felt incredibly stupid for even bringing it up, but he had managed to give her a graceful out. She wondered if she shouldn’t tell him. She had no idea if this was even a date anymore, and she wanted the weight off her chest. She squared her shoulders again.

“Okay, you drug it out of me,” she laughed, and downed her glass. “I am a published author and no one in my real life knows.” She didn’t follow up. Her words hung in the air, heavy and bloated, before he cleared his throat.

“Why would you share that with me?” The confusion was apparent on his face, and it wasn’t what she was expecting. He looked incredibly touched at the gesture, as if she had just given him access to her most intimate secrets. She paused, and realized dumbly that she had. She had absolutely just revealed to him what might be her darkest secret; and as tame as it was, it was hers.

“I don’t really know.” She said flatly. She felt odd though, as she didn’t regret it. In fact, she felt relieved. “It feels good though.” She assured him.

“What have you published?”

“A half dozen novels about cowboys.” She told him, lamely.

“Cowboys?” He asked with a smile dancing on his lips.

“Cowboys.” She repeated with her own coy smile. “It’s a series, and it is not popular. But, I love it, actually.” She continued, a little bashful. “I lost money the first few years, but sales are actually picking up. I’ll never make my living that way, but I love it just the same.” Her cheeks were blazing hot, and she finished in a whisper. He nodded, feeling that much closer to her.

The waiter came over to tell them that they should leave, and the pair laughed at how long they’d been sitting and talking. June was disappointed to bring the night to a close, but knew she had class in the morning. Frankie walked her to her car, and leaned heavily against it.

“You going to be alright to drive home?” She asked, watching him sway slightly.

“No.” He told her flatly, a chuckle following. “I’ll get a cab.” She rolled her eyes.

“How old are you? Get in, I’ll take you home.” She told him, pulling him around to the passenger side. He fought her a little.

“I’m out of the way, I don’t want you to have to back track.”

“Fine, we can go back to mine, and in the morning I’ll drop you by your truck. This is on my way.” The proposition was out in the world before she considered it. The words were hanging between them before she had a chance to worry the details out. It seemed simple enough, but the implications went deeper than she was ready to admit. Her worries were confirmed when she heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“I’d hate to impose…” He trailed, but she was already unlocking her car and shoving him in.

~~~

“Of course, I’ll take the couch, you’re my guest.” She told him, huffing in finality. He crossed his arms. Frankie had only barely agreed to the sleepover; he wasn’t getting bullied in the sleeping arrangement.

“No way. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home.”

“The couch is comfy, though. I slept there last night.”

“All the more reason you should get a proper night’s rest in your bed.” They glared at each other, and Frankie won. Or, so he thought.

“Fine. We’ll both sleep on the couch.” His laugh was sharp and loud, ripped out without warning. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze, but everything June had said had warmed his insides.

“That’s reasonable.” He agreed, and without thinking too much about the movement, he pulled her to the couch with him. He had meant for it to be smooth, and maybe a little romantic. Instead, it was messy and tangled, but when she landed face to face with him it was hard to argue his methods. He felt her breath on his lips, and he leaned forward, testing the waters, and skimmed his lips against hers. She responded in kind, pressing her lips to his with more urgency.

Frankie shifted June so that he was seated and she was straddling him. He pushed back into her kiss, and deepened it slightly. He ran his tongue against her lips, and when she parted them, he slipped his tongue in, tasting and exploring inside her mouth. He licked under her tongue, sucking it slightly, and managed to pull a soft moan from her. He pulled back for air, and noted how her pupils were blown black with lust, her bright eyes darkened. He wondered for a second if his own were so dark, and then she was on him again. She kissed and licked down his jaw and neck, before focusing on his ear. She nibbled the lobe, licked and sucked the sensitive skin around it.

When she pulled away, he almost whined at the loss. She was panting a little, and already swinging her leg off of him. He frowned at her movements, but didn't stop them. She sat heavily beside him, and pecked his cheek.

"Not that I don't want to continue...I just don't think it's a great idea. We've both been drinking, and it's a school night." The realization hit her like a brick wall. "Crap! Frankie! Do you need to get home to Liv?" He chuckled in response, which let her calm down a bit.

“No, she’s at a friend’s house tonight.” June breathed a sigh of relief, and Frankie felt his lips tug up. “Thanks for checking, though.” She nodded, and he just waited, not sure what she wanted next. He hoped it was more than making out. She cleared her throat and faced him, and he felt his smile fall. She looked too serious for anything light., and he braced for impact.

“The way I see it, Frankie, is we have two options here. One, we go upstairs, and I fuck you out of my system.” He inhaled sharply, and swallowed heavily. He could have laughed, if he wasn’t so shocked. “Option two, I go upstairs, alone, and tomorrow I take you to your truck. After that, maybe we can have another dinner...or maybe I’ll go fishing with you.” He did chuckle at her scrunched up face, this time. He considered her options for a moment.

“Why not a third, where both options play out?” He was teasing, mostly. Mostly, he assured himself.

“Well, that doesn’t work for me. I have had too many option three relationships take a nosedive, and I want to give this a chance. But, if you’re not interested in seeing where we could go, then let’s get on with the fun part.” He studied her face, etching every crinkle and freckle to memory. It was so intimate, he realized, being this close without touching. He wanted to take her upstairs. He didn’t really want to even take her upstairs, the couch was fine. She had been burning him since they had met, and he had had every opportunity to reach out and extinguish it. He hadn’t, and he knew why. He knew they could have something here. He had just spent hours with her, and he was already missing her presence. It wasn’t a choice he had to think hard about. He wanted to see her again. But, he wanted her tonight.

He leaned in and kissed her lips gently, pulling away before it could turn into anything more.

“Option two, please.” He noticed her eyes light up, but restrained himself. He could just kiss her all night, if she’d let him. He watched her leave the couch and disappear into another room. He took the opportunity to steady his breathing, and hopefully, calm himself down. She returned with an armful of blankets and pillows. He took them from her, and she stepped away, putting more distance between them than necessary.

“I have some old pajama shorts and a t-shirt from an ex, if you would like something more comfy to sleep in.” She offered, tossing a thumb behind her. He nodded as he made up the couch, not watching her disappear upstairs. She came back quickly and handed them off. He tried not to imagine who had left these behind, which option they had picked.

“Goodnight, Frankie. Kitchen is that way if you need water or anything. Bathroom is there, and I apologize for not having more sleepover supplies, it’s been...awhile.” She apologized, laughing. He waved her off.

“Goodnight, Ms. Collins. Sweet dreams.” He watched her retreat slowly upstairs before turning back to the couch. He was in trouble.

~~~

June tossed for a few hours before relenting. She’d never get to sleep otherwise, she told herself as she slipped her hand beneath her cotton shorts. No, she was too worked up, she reasoned as she made contact with her clit. She came hard in only a few minutes, thinking about how hard Frankie had been against her on the couch. She had been frantic, trying to slow them down, for her own sake. She was already falling hard for him; she didn’t need amazing sex to be the last nail in her coffin. She felt like she knew him, intimately, already. It was ridiculous, she kept reminding herself. It was someone who she had only met less than a week ago. She shouldn’t have invited him into her house. She didn’t need to see him in the morning light to confirm her fears. She had moaned his name into her pillow as she came; no, she knew just what she was in for.

She groaned as she remembered what she had said. “Fuck you out of my system?” She whispered again in the dark, cringing. Who was she? She didn’t talk like that. She taught six year olds. She tried to breathe deeply, and not go into a full-blown panic attack. How had she never gotten any better at flirting? She was grown, she could hook up and still have a relationship.

June squeezed her eyes shut against the memories threatening to crowd her, and reasoned she had made the better choice. They had been drinking, and it was too convenient. Hopefully, he didn’t think she was a psycho for inviting him over, making out with him hard, and then turning him down cold. Well, not cold, but lukewarm. She groaned again. Why was she acting like a teenager? She never fretted like this. Her mom’s cold words flashed in her mind, and she shuddered against them, willing them away. Too late, she thought about Terry.

Terrance, the one who had convinced her to move away from everyone. The one who had promised her everything, and then left her empty. The one who had no kind words or touches for her. The one who had left the taste of rust in her mouth.

She blinked against the tears, and tried to think about Frankie downstairs instead. All she could remember was the gruffness at the farmer’s market, the harsh words at the school, the disappointment in his eyes at dinner, and the coldness after she had turned down sex. She hugged herself tighter and tried to think about the soft touches he had given, the tender kiss, the personal stories, and the deep laugh she was falling in love with.

It was no use, she decided. Mid-spiral, she wasn’t good enough for anyone. She was glad she hadn’t invited him up. She was glad she wouldn’t be used by another man. She would drop him off in the morning, and then that would be that. If she didn’t start loving herself, no one would.

~~~

Frankie stretched against the soft material as light started trickling in through the blinds. He could hear the birds outside, and he whistled softly in tune. He folded the bedding, and padded to the kitchen.

After looking around a bit, he settled on coffee and pancakes. He had noticed the canned tomatoes in the cupboard, and made a note to ask June if they were the ones she had bought from him. He got busy mixing the pancakes together while the coffee brewed. He hadn’t slept so good in years. He had expected a sore back, at least, but that damn couch was probably better than his lumpy old mattress. He cut some berries up, while the pancakes were frying, and smiled as he heard June walk in.

“Morning!” He greeted, cheerfully. She winced, and he let a small chuckle out. “Sorry, uhm, coffee’s ready.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He turned back to the oven, wondering if she just wasn’t a morning person. He noticed she felt colder this morning, and hoped it was because she was hungover.

“You were right about the couch, super comfortable.” He told her as she settled in at the counter. She only nodded, which he barely caught. He turned to face her, one hand on his hip and the other holding the spatula.

“Everything okay?” She nodded again, and he frowned. Something was definitely wrong, but if she wasn’t telling him what could he do. He made her a plate of pancakes and berries, and made one for himself. He sat down beside her, and she ate in silence. In fact, she didn’t say anything to him until they made it back to his truck.

“Have a nice day.” She had mumbled, her lips tight. He gaped a bit before getting out, and slamming the door a little harder than he had meant to. He got into his truck as she sped off, and he slammed the door.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked the steering wheel.

“Whatever,” He said, tightly, throwing the truck into drive.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #Pedro pascal characters #Frankie morales x oc #Frankie Morales x fem!#juniper collins #triple frontier fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

rosesnink · 4 years ago

Text

Plan B, Chapter 2: A Mother’s Sins

Author’s Notes

*English is not my first language, so please forgive me any typos and/or grammar mistakes

*All the characters minus my OC Samantha belong to Pixelberry Studios

*If this is your first time stumbling upon my work and are interested in this au, please check out Plan B’s masterlist with previous works and my general masterlist!

Summary: Two months after the happenings of the announcement, Sam and Ernest find out the sex of their baby and memories about Sam’s childhood flood back.

Word Count: 3620

Seven years ago

Samantha sat beside her gravely ill mother, pale-looking and weak at the fancy hospital. She was holding her hand while she looked pensively at the ceiling, her graze lost. Samantha sighed, trying to get her attention.

"Is something the matter, mother?"

After a silent minute, her mother Mary looked at her and stroked her cheek "My dearest Sam, my beautiful baby girl. You are my greatest gift in this world, alongside your brother Harry and your adoptive brother Edmund. You three had been my anchor and reason of happiness, but we must embrace the truth."

"Mother—."

"I am dying, Samantha. And there is nothing we can do about it. But I can help you so you don't end up like me. I've already unburdened my heart to your brother Harry and Edmund, now I must do so with you."

"Mother, what is the meaning of this?"

"Sammy, I loved your father, truly. But during almost 46 years, his sense of duty was between us, even when I got pregnant with you. We loved each other, but between Edgewater and me, Edgewater came first. I felt so lonely, surrounded by nobles who didn't want me here and weren't certainly welcome. I fear I brought shame onto this family, but you, my girl, you will be our salvation. I know it's too much to ask, but marry someone who you think can make you happy and with a suitable rank. It is the only way."

"Mother that is… a bit old-fashioned."

"I know, but think about it. But before that, make me the happiest of women and get that medical degree so at least you've got a living if anything goes wrong."

"I—I will consider your words, Mother." She kissed her hands.

"One more thing. Never marry a man who doesn't know who he is or what he wants in his life. Because, even with all the money and power in the world, it will be a shallow, sad life, even if you do love him."

"I promise I will follow your counsel, mother."

She kissed her hand "I know you will."

Samantha woke up, that dream feeling too real. She sighed as she remembered well her mother's last days before she left them. Even when she was dying and Henrietta was trying to impress her father, she never went after her or tried to demonize her or poor Edmund. It was her who encouraged Vincent to move on from her. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew that Henrietta and Vincent had an understanding. What the understanding was, she didn't know.

She looked at the clock: it was four in the morning, an hour before she was due to wake up uni day.

After not going for weeks, she decided that it was time for her to go and talk to the principal and her counselor: one of the many emails she had were from them, after all.

She got a hot shower, brushed her teeth, put on some soft makeup and comfortable clothes, and got something light to eat before messaging her classmates that she was on her way to uni.

"Ah, Miss Foredale, at long last we get a sight of you! Please, take a seat."

Principal Gray invited, a warm smile on her face "Your father called me, saying that you were sick, but I must hear your version,"

Sam chewed her lip before asking "Will this be between us and the counselor?"

"If that is your wish. You're almost twenty-six years old, Samantha. You've been in your right to demand to keep things to ourselves since you turned eighteen."

She nodded before she looked at the principal and confessed "The reason why I didn't attend class wasn't a sickness… the thing is, I'm pregnant, Mrs. Gray."

Her eyebrows shoot so up she feared they might fly away, but quickly coughed politely before asking "And… what is your plan? Should you wish to either keep it or abort, you have our support."

"After a long talk with the father and pondering what is better for me, I have decided to keep it."

She smiled at her warmly before getting that stern look she always had "You do realize what having a child takes and means?"

"I do, Mrs. Gray."

"And you're aware of the changes that come within the pregnancy?"

"Uh… a bit?" She seemed now a bit scared.

Thankfully, Mrs. Gray was a kind lady and patted her on her hand before she began to speak, her stare years away "I was a bit older when I first got my son. I have to say that my husband then wasn't a good man: he was the typical bad husband who didn't even blink at the news of having a son, saying that I just did the bare minimum by giving him 'what he was owed'. Nevertheless, I was so happy when my Christopher was born… Pregnancy can indeed be tricky, but many pregnancies can be even pleasant to go through. My sister-in-law had a better pregnancy than I had, and she had triplets. Her skin and hair glowed and barely had any pains, all the pain she had was in the birth."

"I guess getting three whole humans out of your system can be highly exhausting."

"What I want to say is, that I understand your fears: you're scared, without a close female figure to give you counsel, but don't worry, I shall dial an old alumnus of mine that has turned out to be a brilliant doctor, specialized in young women's pregnancies. You're welcome to bring the father with you, but she shall not judge you if you come alone," she lowered her tone, an amusing tone on her face "just be careful with the pregnant Karens and her mob of conservative mums while waiting for the doctor to call. The less you interact with them, the better."

Sam giggled, now more relaxed than before. They talked a bit more before she gave her the number of said doctor and proceeded to go to the counselor's office, where they figured out a plan of what to do as her pregnancy advanced.

Before class, she messaged Ernest, inviting him to come with her to the doctor's appointment. He got the message but didn't read it. She shrugged –perhaps he was busy.

During the day, Hamid messaged her too and even Annabelle wanted to know how was her first day at uni being pregnant. At the break, she video called Annabelle and talked for a bit, laughing while they enjoyed their lattes, forgetting for once the drama outside cooking. A kind classmate whispered to watch the newspaper's gossip section.

Viscountess of Foredale, possible romance with dashing Turkish diplomat?!

She read the section with eyes wide:

This past week has been eventful for the Earl of Edgewater. Not only his daughter and heir have been hospitalized for the night, but also we have seen a glimpse of her gallivanting around with the dashing Turkish diplomat, Hamid Osmanoglu! Seems like the Viscountess stopped trailing on the widower Mr. Ernest Sinclaire of Ledford Park and found herself a new man who pays her attention?

If you don't believe me, here's a photo of them sharing a kiss no less after what seemed like a very interesting conversation! Will sparks fly? Or will he as well get bored of this spinster? Talk to me, my dear readers! Are you team Hamid or team Ernest?

Samantha put the newspaper down, and annoyance scoff on her face. Who the hell were these people anyway? Couldn't she have a bit of peace for one damn minute?

She felt a bit of shame for poor Ernest, and Hamid too. She bit the inside of her cheek before calling Ernest first, who picked the phone after four sounding rings

"Yes?"

"Ernest, may I know if you've seen the gossip newspaper yet?"

"Not personally, but my secretary informed me."

She sighed, biting her lip "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to barge you into unnecessary drama,"

"I know you meant well, Samantha. It's enraging how they paint you," she could almost picture his annoyed scowl "calling you that, it's an outrage! Have they not got any respect for you?"

"Thank you for your concern. But you know this kind of people. They love to add fuel to the fire and cause drama over nothing,"

"It's not an excuse to shame a woman for having free will over her life."

Samantha's heart warmed at how little he cared about how they painted him. When he was a teenager, he was painted as an unreachable cheeky boy. Then, his parents died during a visit to the Emirates and everything changed. He married Roselyn rather young –he was then 23—and closed off to everyone, including her father, who he always saw as a second father. He was then one of the most tragic men in London. Samantha tried to be there for him, but Roselyn didn't help. It was like she wanted him clueless. Then she found out that she was seeing the creepy duke and tried to warn him, but again, Roselyn kicked her out. She wondered what happened the year before her death, why did they just… disappeared. There were many rumors indeed, but she waited and waited every day to hear from him, but it didn't happen until he showed up at a party only to talk businesses. She tried to get something out of him by dancing, but he was stiff and silent all the time. Something grave indeed happened. And she knew it was Roselyn's fault. Ernest here was the victim. She didn't hear of them after they departed to Scotland and then, all they knew was that she had died a week ago and Ernest was preparing himself for the burial.

During those weeks, she was there for him, and then one night she asked him out and he accepted. And then, that same night, they conceived their child… Sam touched her growing belly thoughtfully. It has been two months ever since and they have gone out, going on revisions as well. She answered the phone again as Ernest's concerned voice called for her again "Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say again?"

"I was asking if I may accompany you to today's appointment with the doctor."

"Oh, I'd love to! But your work—,"

"Can wait. I want to be there for you both and make some questions of my own to the doctor,"

She nodded before they planned where to meet and they both hung up. Sam went to some more classes and activities before excusing herself. She barely came out of the uni's doors when Ernest's familiar car parked there, him looking at her rather nervously. She smiled at him reassuringly and hopped into the car, both in silence.

"So, did the baby give you any trouble?"

"Not at all, the baby behaved well and barely gave me any pain. I think my hair and skin had gotten softer and shinier," Sam said proudly. Ernest looked at her before looking again at the road.

"I do see you shining. Maybe pregnancies aren't always so bad,"

"Did your mom have a difficult pregnancy with you?"

"…Not exactly."

She took the hint that he didn't wish to speak about it and remained in silence. At some point, Ernest turned on the radio and a beautiful melody resonated in the car. He explained to her that soothing classical music was good for the unborn baby's development and Sam wanted to swoon. He did his research about pregnancies, despite them being nothing. But they were, somehow. She and her baby had their room in his home and one being built and painted in Ledford. This was real. She and Ernest would be co-parenting despite their history together, and Sam couldn't feel happier. She smiled at him before getting into the hospital's parking and in front of the maternity wing. He opened the door to Samantha and offered courteously his arm, but Sam rejected it with a chuckle "I'm pregnant of almost three months, Ernest, not chronically ill,"

"I know, I just want to show my support… and make sure you don't have any dizziness. Hospitals tend to do that…"

"…Very well then." She took his arm and they both got into the facility, gasps, and whispers everywhere. Some photos being made. But neither of them cared.

"Lady Samantha Foredale?" The nurse called. They both got up and the nurse-led them to the cozy and comfortable room, with a soothing blue with little teddy bears and some promotional photos of breastfeeding and new-borns.

"Doctor," Ernest asked "is it correct that at this rate we will be able to see if it's a girl or a boy?"

"Yes, indeed. This is why today's session is one of the most important… and magical." She winked "Please do ask the questions you need,"

"If Samantha keeps being a healthy expectant, the option of a C-section might be off the list?"

The nurse looked at him as she wandered on her belly "Well, Miss Foredale has the luck to have our best doctors at her disposal and the privilege of a nutritionist controlling what she eats and much more, but even the best doctor cannot predict how the birth might be. It is a spontaneous act. Some of them are long and exhausting, some of them only last twenty minutes and there is barely any pain… birth is complicated to explain. You see, the human body can only endure forty-five unities of pain. When a woman gives birth, the unities increase to fifty-seven unities, which is the equivalent to twenty broken bones." Ernest's eyes went wide "but you needn't worry! Thanks to the evolution in terms of birth and the appearance of the epidural, women suffer much less in birth. Don't worry, sir, she's in the hands of the experts. Some of our doctors are apprentices of the Queen's delivery doctors and nurses, just as the Princes and Dukes of England."

Samantha took his hand and squeezed it "I know I'm safe and in good hands. Believe it too, Ernest,"

"You're the med student, Sam. If I can believe in someone's judgment in health, that's you."

They both smiled before the nurse called their attention and said "Well, Mr. Sinclaire and Lady Samantha… you're going to be parents of a healthy baby girl,"

Sam gasped in delight as Ernest's eyes went wide before smiling, overjoyed " A girl… I don't think I can be happier right now…"

He lifted his hand, wordless permission to touch her belly and feel the kicks of his girl and she nodded, and he gasped at her vivid kicks. "You feel that?"

"I—I do," He beamed.

"By the way, Lady Samantha, may I interest you in ovum donation? You have so many and it could change some women's lives…"

"Dad, we're home and we have news about the baby!" Sam called at her family's attention in the house.

Edmund and Harry rushed to her, just as Dominique and Henrietta, and they all bombarded her with questions about today's appointment. They all knew that it was the gender reveal's day.

"Everyone, leave poor Sam some space! She called for me, after all," Vincent's voice resonated all over the place. They all did as he asked and clasped his hands on hers "So, what will be? A boy? A girl?"

She placed his hand on her belly "A vivid girl, father."

He beamed before hugging her, careful of her belly as Harry congratulated her and Edmund gave her a side hug of his. Grandmother and granddaughter embraced and Henrietta gave her a stiff nod "Better luck next time, I guess."

"Enough, Henrietta. A girl in the family brings the same joy as a boy. We are, after all, in the 21st century. Gender does not matter,"

Henrietta huffed as they all showered her in congratulations, Ernest in a corner, lingering awkwardly. Vincent noticed and they both hugged "You have now two girls with Mills temper. Watch out, old friend." Vincent teased.

Ernest chuckled "I think I can manage just fine with that temper,"

"Now, why don't we speak as we take our tea? Our cook has made some marvelous pastries with whipped cream and honey that you'll simply love…"

Hamid waited patiently on the porch as he checked the hour. He had come early to receive her and leaned on his car, looking good for his dinner with Samantha. She told him over the phone hours ago that she'd be the mother of a girl and he got excited. People always teased him that if he fathered a girl, he'd have to deal with eight women: his mother, his sisters, his future wife, and his future daughter.

He did not mind at all. Sure, he liked the idea of having a boy too – he loved children in general – but he was so used to being around girls and women that sometimes that had caused trouble, but he wouldn't change a single thing of it. He adored his sisters and his mother was an important figure in his life, and he was willing to be a second father to Sam's girl if she chose him. They had gone to dates so far and sneaked a few innocent kisses, careful of paparazzi and her growing belly. She wasn't meant to grow it much until halfway her third month, but everyone had noticed now her belly and had asked her a lot of questions about who was the father and if she wanted to marry the man in question, and the Dowager Countess had handled it flawlessly, though he did tell his mother and elder sister, Nesrim, about the whole situation that he had accidentally drawn attention to Istanbul's newspapers.

Though they argued for hours, they both agreed that Hamid had decided to participate in the baby's life somehow and nothing would change his mind. However, his middle sister Hande had begged him to advise him in nursing a new-born – she had recently triplets, boys to be exact, his new nephews—and was dying to play too part in family's chatters about how pregnancies could be either barely noticeable to torture. His elder sister had now two children: a boy and a girl, his nephew was eight while his niece was six. He video-called them often and they both said that he was the coolest uncle, which boasted greatly his ego – and he had sufficient ego to give to some insecure girls—or at least Sam teased so.

Sam finally came down the small stairs in a floral dress with her small bump showing, a beaming smile on her face. He smiled at her and kissed her hand.

"Shall we, my lady?"

She nodded before she got into the car, driving away to the restaurant he had reserved: the best Turkish restaurant in all of London. It was one of his last chances to show her London before she retired to the countryside to rest for the rest of her pregnancy to avoid stress or drama that some snooty nobles and press wanted to bring. He'd be joining her in his state, just thirty minutes away from Edgewater, but he was excited nonetheless.

This adventure had just begun.

Twenty-one years ago

Mrs. Mary Foredale, Countess of Edgewater, held her toddler daughter in her arms as she had a bit of rest of her restless new-born son, Harry, the girls playing with her dolls. She looked at her "Sammy, my darling, what are you dolls up to?"

"Shh! Ken is going to propose to Barbie!" Little Sam shushed. Mary chuckled before paying attention to the proposal.

Minutes after, Sam reached to sit on her lap as she called her husband "Vincent, love? Oh, he's reunited. When will he come back from work? Oh… I see. Nothing, just tell him that his wife and daughter send him a hug. Right, Sammy?" Sam shouted at the phone.

"I love you, Daddy!" She hung up and Sam looked at her mother questioningly "Mother, why did you marry Papa?"

"Because I loved him. I still do,"

"Then why are you so sad?"

Mary sighed. She knew this day would come. She has prayed that it'd delay a bit longer.

"You see, my girl, love is the biggest and purest source of all. But when one doesn't nurture the plant of love, it will fade away. Your father works so much, and I cannot maintain this plant on my own."

"So… that means that having a husband sucks?"

"It should not. But do one thing for me, my girl, and before you marry, be certain that the man you love is capable of nurturing your little plant of love, or else it shall have grave consequences. Marrying an uncommitted man is an enormous sin that women do all the time. Be wiser than that, my darling Sammy. Promise me."

"I promise, Mom,"

Sixteen years later, Vincent and his two children sat on a hospital chair, weeping silently for the Countess's death. Sam pretended not to notice, but she heard her father whisper angrily to himself "I should have put Mary first. I should have been the husband and father she needed me to be. Now she's dead because of my absence."

That day, Sam learned that you never truly appreciated something until you have let go of it. Right there, the nineteen-year-old woman promised herself that she wouldn't settle down to any man that wasn't willing to nurture every day their love, should that man ever come…

She would not commit her mother's sins.

#playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #desire and decorum au #plan b #oc: samantha foredale #ernest sinclaire #prince hamid #earl vincent #mary mills #ernest x oc #ernest x samantha #prince hamid x oc #hamid x samantha #pregnancy au #desire and decorum modern au

15 notes · View notes

silver-inked · 3 years ago

Note

For the OC interview ask: 4 for Alex, 6 for Selena, and 8 for Marisol! Or all three for all three :)

I got really into this, Thankyou this was a lot of fun!

Alex 4: It’s hard to pinpoint what’s my least favorite childhood memory, since I consider my childhood short and a lot of the bad things blur together. The easy answer would be when my dad died. Explaining that night is too complicated but knowing that his hard work did nothing but alienate my family and ruin his legacy, it angers me to the bone. The worst part is knowing that nothing could have been different, not at that time.

But the worst memory is I have was a couple years later, my brother had left us, leaving me as the best suitable heir for the movement spirit. It still had a strong connection to my father and had rejected everyone outside of the direct bloodline.

Wolfie as we call it, used to be my best friend, when Selena left and Kilo was sent to school he was my only confidant. I didn’t need to be his champion back then, others tried to fit that role and for two years I mourned my father with him by my side. He was the family pet, but also the most dangerous being I know and a monster.

Bonding with him, that was the most painful thing I have ever felt and maybe the most painful thing I’ll ever experience. Every spirit can only have one champion, they can have various companions like Selena and my cousins (which grant them more power but not much in this dying world) but only one human can merge its essence with the spirit. Not everyone is meant to be a champion and for a while my brother Kenneth was though to be the heir after my father. But he left short after my father died and it all went to chaos. We will never know now if they were compatible or not.

The point is merging with wolfie, it was like desolving every part of me, mixing it with his every being and reconstructing myself. I was too young, wolfie was still too connected with my father, and the whole thing should have killed me, but it didn’t. Instead I was left to mend for two months, a new reborn wolfie pup at my feet. His voice wasin my head for the first time, and every word was like sharp nails running through me. And we both knew that in any other life I should have died.

The worst part was knowing that my best friends and brother were either too busy or too scared to be by my side. More than that.. it’s too hard to write.

Selena 6:

The hardest thing I had to do was to accept my family’s past and move past it to do something productive to fix it. This meant trusting someone who had hunted and outed me. It compromised my proximate family’s safety, alienated me once again, and cut me off from my sister in a way I don’t think I can fix. But living a lie wasn’t an option. But it will have been worth it if I can find some clue to how to make my brothers life less complicated and bring him back to his cousins where he belongs. What happens to me in the process will be worth it.

Marisol 8: With magic dying our people continue to lose its power, to a point where magic it’s not longer profitable unless you study it all your life. Everyone can turn lights on or off or learn how to

levitate a pencil or fic a small scar. But real medical magic? Mechanical magic? that makes money, but there isn’t enough magical capacity and humans to make any real money unless you study all your life. And I like everyone else am merely human.

My sister becoming an illusion champion apprentice set her apart from everything we knew. She had power only given to very very few and a destiny without comparison. It created a huge rift, that never healed, and that would come to threaten everything I loved.

#ask game #ink.ocask #Thankyou for the ask!! I had too much fun with this

5 notes · View notes

captainmazzic · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

#long post #psa #sarc speaks #sarc speaks a LOT #3k words worth of a LOT #I'm so sorry #OTL

45 notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

Text

CURSED: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Knocking on Heaven’s Door”

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Kai realised he fucked, Mack isn’t so willing to forgive him, Joshua is a shading little shit

Warnings: swearing, slight violence, arguing, mention of drug use (or misuse I guess)

Masterlist | series Masterlist

Kai’s affection didn't last long, the second the announcement was over he released Mack's hand with such haste you'd think it'd burnt him. Kai was quick to ignore his girlfriend - looking straight ahead and following the Police with his eyes as they made their way out of the room - but not before announcing they would be questioning certain individuals.

This put Mack's stress on overdrive, knowing that they'd find out that she killed him and that Kai helped destroy the body and they'd both go to prison. The girl shuddered at the thought of the cold, dingy cells; the cool metal bars that would not doubt be lathered in a layer of thick rust; the grumpy, disgruntled guards; and lastly, the inmates - the ones who had done awful things, much more so than she had than her, or even worse, the ones she outdid.

Mack visibly shook, a chill tickling along her spine as the thoughts encased her mind in a state of anxiousness. She hardly noticed the police had left until the jabbing of the bell pierced her ears, bringing Mack back to her senses as she scrambled to her feet. What she'd also failed to notice was that Kai was no longer in the class, having snuck out when he'd let go of her shaking hand.

...

"Who the fuck are you?" Kai hissed, approaching Shawn, shoulders squared and jaw locked. Shawn smirked, leaning away from the wall and closing the distance between them. Both boys were around the same height - neither of them having an advantage of dominance due to being tall.

"None of your damn business." He smirked, winding Kai up even further.

"Oh, you're right - it's none of my damn business that your asking my girlfriend to kiss you in front of me, is it?" Kai mused, a sinister looking smirk reaching his own lips. Shane's didn't falter either.

"Mmm, girlfriend? She looked more like a slut to me." Shawn pondered and Kai's jaw clenched uncomfortably, hands balling into tight fists at his sides.

"What did you just call her?" Kai spat through gritted teeth and Shawn chuckled, looking back at the group of friends stood behind him with amused expressions.

"What? That's what she is, isn't it? I mean you only called her your girlfriend when you pissed off your sister so bad and her ex went missing." Shawn smirked, his friends laughing and egging him on with cheers. "I bet she's the one who killed him, right? Then ever the hero you swoop in, claiming to be her boyfriend so any motive she may hold becomes futile." Shawn declared, before turning back to his friends with outstretched arms. "Am I right, boys?" He called loudly, met with hoots of agreement that made Kai's anger bubble, their laughter creating a scowl on Kai's brows.

"I mean, nice catch though dude - a bet she's a real freak in bed, probably hard to keep up with her, huh?" Shawn taunted.

Shawn only stopped at the impact of Kai's fist colliding with his jaw, snapping the boy's head to the side as Kai's ring caught the soft skin of his cheek, a slither of crimson breaking the surface. Shawn's jaw clenched tight lung, his thumb swiping the blood from his cheek as his dangerous glare met Kai's.

"You son of a fucking bitch!" Shawn growled, grabbing Kai by his jacket and shoving him into the wall behind him. "Don't you dare fucking touch me again!"

"Or you'll what?" Kai smirked, Shawn's nostrils now flared and his breathing heavy. He was clearly bothered by how unaffected Kai was, this frustration showing clearly when he moved to punch Kai.

But Kai got there first.

No one was really sure how I'd happened, including Kai, but next thing either of them new a teacher was peeling Kai off of Shawn as he straddled the boy, landing punch after punch to his bartered and bruised face.

...

And yet weeks went by and neither Mack nor Kai said a word to each other.

Awkward silences became more awkward, uncomfortable moments became more uncomfortable, wistful gazes became more wistful.

It was getting too much, and Mack was dying for Kai just to say something to her, yet she was too stubborn to say anything first. She sighed heavily, slamming the front door behind her and dumping her bag on the floor. Mack quickly chucked the car keys onto the table before walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. For the past month Mack has been borrowing her dad's car to get to school.

"Hey dad!" She called and Ian soon walked round the corner, joining her in the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo." He smiled, "how was school?" But before Mack got a chance to answer Kim called from the other room.

"Mack! Kai's here!" The colour instantly drained from Mack's face, her smile falling and her thought spiralling into dread.

Why was Kai there? And why had he now decided to talk to her?

Mack quickly shook off the thoughts, pulling on a hard stare and calling as emotionlessly as she could to Kim,

"I don't want to talk to him. Tell him to leave!" Kim merely shrugged, giving Kai a half-ass apologetic look before letting the slab of wood slam shut in his face, the tiny draft the force created combined with the monotone drawl of Mack's words felt like it hit Kai's face almost as hard as if the girl had charged outside and slapped him across the face herself. He took a deep swallow, choking down the lump in his throat as he stared blankly at the door, fist twitching as he tried to make up his mind.

Another hollow knock on the door. Kim's hand still remained on the handle, so she simply yanked it open before giving Kai a bored look, Amber eyes rolling dramatically.

"Look, lover boy, give it a rest. She doesn't want to talk to you." Mack's sister deadpanned, before letting the door smack shut with an even louder thud than the first time. Kai took a deep breath, his chest rising greatly as he rose his hand another time.

Another hollow knock on the door. Kim scoffed, turning to open the door once again - figuring it could be another person as the pause between knocks had been much longer this time. The second Kai's face met hers Kim huffed out an exasperated sigh, not even bothering to speak before letting the door close dully in Kai's face. A wince escaped him when the last thud met his ears, shoulders slumped as he slowly made his way back to his jeep.

He'd just have to wait Mack out.

10pm. Perfect. Kai claimed out his car hastily, limbs aching after being cooped in his jeep for the last five or so hours. He crept as quietly as possible past her front windows, letting out a small sigh of relief when he noticed that the curtains were already closed so he wasn't in trouble of being seen. Only one light beacons out from the house, the yellow hue of Mack's lamp echoing into the crisp night air. Even though it was already February, the weather was still as harsh as it had been throughout the bitter January.

Kai grabbed onto the bricks, suddenly much more appreciative to the fact he had a small magical boost as he scaled the side of the small building.

Mack nearly jumped three foot in the air, her heart beating so fast she thought it jump out of her chest. The unexpected, unwelcome and unnecessary rattle of Kai's knuckles against her old window bounced off her bedroom walks, filling her ears with anxiety as she turned to see her ex-boyfriend's concerned face looking into her room. Mack inhaled sharply, biting her lips to hold back her grimace as she realised what he'd seen.

The window climbed upwards, Kai's hands sliding the glass up enough to stumble through until he was awkwardly stood in Mack's room, both teens staring at each other uncomfortably.

"That's how you've been coping?" Mack's gaze dropped to her bed, guilt washing over her at the sight of the half-rolled joint. "Weed? Really?" Kai scoffed and Mack's guilt soon rolled into anger, rage.

"That's none of your business." She said with an unturned nose, scooping the mess into a bag and shoving it in the little drawer in her desk which held a small lock. The sound Kai made resembled one of mocking laughter, short and bitter.

"None of my business, huh? I think you doing drugs is damn well my fucking business!" Kai demanded, shaking his head at her in disbelief.

"It stopped being your business the second you decided to dump me!" Mack was raising her voice now, her enmity melting into her face in a deep red hue. Kai's jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes burning holes through the little wooden drawer shed just stuffed the weed into.

"That was a mistake." He muttered and Mack's eyes lit up with fury.

"A mistake? Kai you've made hundreds of mistakes!" Mack said harshly, voice cracking. Kai wiped his hand over his jaw, hiding his pout. "No. That wasn't a mistake, Kai. That was your shitty past making you doubt me as much as you doubt your shitty father and your shitty coven!" Mack shouted, eyes shellacked with tears.

And awkward silence fell over them, but Kai's stung expression told Mack everything she needed to know.

"Kenz..."

"Why are you here, Kai?!" Mack spat.

"Ben, he's uh- he's been confirmed dead." Kai murmured meekly, pressing his lips together. Mack's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What?!" She whispered-shouted. Kai nodded.

"The police- they confirmed it, earlier. It was on the news." A somber mood had undertaken the room, a mutual air of what-do-we-do-now becoming the two teens.

"How-?"

"They found the ashes in the woods. And Kim talked." Kai admitted and Mack's face quickly morphed back into one of acrimony.

"That bitch-" Kai's hand quickly caught her wrist, pulling Mack back into him before she could get any further. He quickly backed her up into the door, a finger hovering over her lips.

"Shhhh. I have a sneaking suspicion that your name wouldn't have come up." He whispered calmly, but the fear and anger in his blue eyes were evident.

"What are you going to do?" She asked, a hint of concern creeping into her eyes.

"Well, I was thinking we could run away. You and me." Kai suggested, a hopeful glint to his voice that made Mack scoff.

"You haven't spoken to me in weeks," she emphasised the word heavily, "and you just expect me to run away with you? Not a chance." Mack dismissed, pulling away from Kai and quickly slipping out of her room - feet padding down the stairs swiftly. But Kai's heavy footsteps could be heard behind her.

"Come on, Kenz, you know you want to-" at that Mack turned harshly on her heal to face him

"What makes you think I'd want to go anywhere with you?" She hissed and Kai was taken aback.

"I thought you loved me.." he mumbled and Mack rolled her eyes, but really she was only trying to hide the siege of tears persisting at her bottom eyelids. She continued her path out, pulling the front door open harshly. "Where are you going?" Kai called, before coming to a stop a few feet behind Mack outside the small house.

"I'm just asking myself, why do I," Mack took a pause, inhaling a deep breath, "pick people who treat me like...nothing..." she exhaled deeply, turning around to face him and Kai's bottom lip began to quiver. Tears pooled in his deep blue eyes and he shook his head slightly.

"That's not true." He murmured, head still shaking as Mack kept her eyes trained to the floor. She gave him no response.

Kai's lips smashed to hers, his hands cupping her face and his eyes closed. Mack balled her fists by her sides, trying with all her strength to not kiss back. She finally pulled away, her hand making a hard connection with Kai's cheek.

"No! You don't get to do that, Kai!" She screamed, tears running down Mack's red cheeks. "You don't get to screw everything up and expect to kiss me and make it better!" The tears stung his eyes too now, an expression of sadness over coming him.

"I'm sorry." The words were mumbled, directed at the floor.

"Sorry?! You thought so little of me that I'd throw away what we had for some - some guy I'd just met! I can't be with you if all you can do is think of me as some lying, manipulative bitch like you do you coven! I can't, Kai. God, I can't believe I actually fell in love with someone as- as immature as you!" Mack seethed, but Kai was crying silently now, shaking his head no as she spoke even though deep down he knew every word she spoke was true.

"Please don't leave me." Kai begged, his desperation lacing his deep blue eyes with a rim of sadness, eyes finally making contact with Mack's. "Please, Kenz, I can't live without you."

"Kenz? Oh we are so not at nicknames right now Malachai." Mack spat out his name like is tasted bad, as if the word held a lingering bitter taste on her tongue. It stung Kai, Mack using his full name.

"I love you." Was all Kai suggested and Mack let out a heavy sigh through her tears.

"If you truly loved me, you would have trusted me. I can't be with someone who I have to tread on eggshells around, Kai. I can't do that." Mack cried, biting down on her lower lip to hide a sob. She looked at her feet, then back up again and put on a brave face as her eyes bored into Kai's blue orbs. "We're done." She whispered and Kai's eyes widened.

"No..." he muttered, shaking his head slowly in protest as Mack sorrowfully nodded.

"Yes, we're done. For good. I'm sorry." Mack said authoritatively, wiping the tears away quickly before turning back around and walking over to her dad's car.

"Kenz!" He shouted after her, but Mack pretended to ignore him - a new wave of tears threatening to drip down her chin now. The lights on the car flashed orange, the button on the keys clicked and the door now open. Mack slipped in, seating herself in the car and pushing the keys into the ignition, starting the car with a small sob.

As Mack attempted to shut the door, a strong hand caught it, Kai's wrecked face looking down at her with a pleading beg.

"Please don't leave, don't you get it? I love you Kenz." Kai begged. Mack shook her head.

"Let me go, Kai." He shook his head back, pressing his lips together to stop himself choking over a sob.

"I can't."

"And you've lost the right to call me anything but Mackenzie." She whispered, finally out manning Kai and slamming the door shut, not even hesitating before driving off.

...

The words buzzed through Mack's mind, her eyes trained on the road ahead of her as she desperately drove further away from home. She couldn't put her family through this, not right now, couldn't face him. She had to get away, go somewhere to think.

Mack tapped her foot restlessly, chewing on her bottom lips as she drove down the secluded road. As she approached a corner, she turned around it to see a car parked up at the side of the road, lights flashing.

As she drove closer, she realised it was Kai's father's car, so she made to pull over. Even thought she was avoiding Kai, Joshua hadn't done anything wrong and he could be in serious trouble. Once parked at the side of the road, Mack quickly climbed out her car, locking it behind her and walking over to Joshua - who was stood by his tyre, bent down to examine it.

"Hey, Mr Parker!" She called, arms crossed over her chest, and he looked up.

"Ah, Mackenzie! What are you doing out here alone?" He asked with a small frown.

"Well I was just driving to clear my head and I saw your car...are you okay? Do you need help?" She asked worriedly, stepping back slightly as Joshua rose to stand.

"Actually," he spoke rather menacingly, "there is something you could help with." He continued walking until Mack was backed into a tree and she let out a sharp gasp. Joshua raised his hand. "Phasmatos Somnus!" he spoke, and Mack's body fell limp, eyes closed as she fell unconscious.

19 notes · View notes

lovlydovlyjaycie · 4 years ago

Text

The Walking Dead / Supernatural: A World Changed

Hii so this is gonna be a story about a crossover but also not really a crossover from the walking dead and supernatural.

Summary: Y/N is from Boston and moved to Los Angeles to be a nanny, she’s been doing it for a while now and loves the two, soon to be three, children like they were her own. One day she goes to work and it seems like the world around her is falling apart. People are dying, unbeknownst to her they are coming back to live. She is trying to find a way so she stays alive and the people around her too and she needs help, but she’d rather does it on her own.

Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Claire Novak, OC Clark Cattaneo, OC Jayden Cattaneo, Mentioned: OC Alice Cattaneo, OC Mark Cattaneo , OC Birdy Cattaneo

Warnings: angst, language, violence, awkwardness? slight fluff?

Music: In The Darkness - Timo Brandt

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ2GCGBTBls

Part 8 The Soccer ball

Day 763

I’ve been in the bunker for about a month now since I went back with the Winchesters. Al and I had said goodbye, because she really wanted to go to Texas. She had tried to get Dean and Sam to take a interview, but they said that we really needed to get back to the bunker.

I have also decided to take Al up for the advice she gave me and let go that Dean and Sam where hiding something. I also wasn’t ready to tell my story to everyone either. So I decided to let it go.

They gave me a job after I was with them for a week. I patrolled the gates every other day and teach the kids. There weren’t a lot of kids though. It was just Clark, Jayden, a girl quiet named Abbie she was about twelve and Jack. What I didn’t understand was why Jack was here. He seemed to be around eighteen years old and he must have been to school before all this. But he was always the one with the most questions that I didn’t understand why he never got to know about. About simple things like when the U.S. got the independence or the wars we were involved in. He would always ask why it happened, when and how. These should all be things he should’ve learned in middle school. Maybe he was home schooled? I don’t know. But they were all good kids, even though I might be bias, because two out of the four kids were mine. the ‘school’ hours were usually not very long. About two or three hours and then I was off for the rest of the day.

The kids got out of the room where we had ‘school’. I took Clark and Jayden to go outside. It was getting a lot colder now, but luckily Dean had surprised me earlier this week with warmer jackets for me and the kids. Now it was finally time to test it out.

We got out of the door and walked up the stairs to go outside. Not many people were outside because of the cold. I only saw Dean watching the gate with Jody and saw three other people either keeping a look out for the fence or cleaning up.

“Why don’t you go look for something to play with sweetie.” I said to Clark. His imagination was so big. Any object he found was a toy for him. He smiled and ran off to the trees that were inside the fence, he usually got his sticks from there.

I looked down at Jayden who was holding my hand. He was gonna be two soon. It felt bittersweet. Seeing him grow up was amazing, but for him to never know his sister or parents was a difficult thought to have.

“Hey y/n!” I heard coming from the fence. Dean walked to the car that was parked next to it and got something out of it. He gave the gun he was holding quickly to Jody before he came walking towards us. “Claire and I found something else on our run.” He said as he showed me a soccer ball. Jayden gave a big smile at that. “What do you say Jayden?” I asked giving him a little push to say something. He still wouldn’t say a lot of words at all. Dean crouched down and put the ball in front of him. “Thank.” He said quietly and I almost missed it, but Dean didn’t. “You’re welcome little nugget.” He said as he ruffled his hair gave him the ball and stood up. Jayden was looking at me, waiting for permission to go play. “You can go bubs, go play with your ball.” I said smiling at him. Jayden ran off but still stayed very close, he always wanted to be as close as he could to either me or Clark.

“That was very sweet of you to do, Dean, thank you.” I told him. I truly was grateful, they didn’t have real toys here. Only the sticks Clark kept finding.

“Yeah, really it was no problem. Claire actually found it when we were looking for supplies.” Dean explained while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, I’ll be sure to thank Claire as well for getting them the ball.” He nodded and smiled at that.

“So.. how have you been liking it here?” He asked awkwardly. “I like it a lot. This is the first time since this all started I’m with a group in the winter. It’s a lot less stressful.” I didn’t realize until just now how hard it was to find food around this time of year. When Jayden was just born I don’t think I have ever felt that level of stress before in my entire life. He cried so much.

“Well I’m glad that you guys are here. You bring a new light to the group.” He stated simply, like it was obvious. But I didn’t know that. “How so?” I asked I didn’t know what he meant. I was looking at him now. He was wearing his usual brown leather jacket, it looked very worn. “Well.. you know.. Clark and Jayden.. and you.” He said he looked a little nervous saying that, but I don’t know why. “How is that a new light to the group?” I said slightly laughing. I liked seeing him uncomfortable. He always seemed so though around other people, but not now.

“I don’t know, you just seem to light up the room whenever you walk in one.. All of you.” He added that last part quickly. “Thank you.” I said simply. I didn’t know what else to say. There was a short awkward moment of silence. So I decided to keep up with the awkward small talk, I’d rather have that than awkward silence.

“You know it’s almost the new year. And I’m pretty sure it’s Christmas around now.” I told Dean. I was looking back at Jayden who was happily playing with the ball and Clark was still playing with a lot of sticks that he had found.

“Is it? What date is it?” He asked. “Well it’s day 763 since the world ended.. given it was November when that happened it’s almost the new years.” I explained. Dean was thinking about what I said for a second. “You’ve counted the days since the world went to... shit?” He whispered the last part, to make sure Jayden or Clark wouldn’t hear. “Yes.. Haven’t you?” I thought this was kind of a thing everybody was doing. “No, not really.. at least not anymore.” “Why did you stop?” I wondered out loud. “At first I did it I guess to hold on to what was before.. and seeing how long it took for the world to go back to normal. Then that just didn’t happen and I stopped.” He explained. “So you gave up on that thought of things going back to normal?”

“No not necessarily. I guess I just excepted that this is the way it is now. Don’t get me wrong I would love to have things go back to normal, but for me everyday that got added to the count disappointed me more and more. So I just excepted it. Why are you keeping up with the days still?” He asked looking at me.

In all honesty. I don’t know why I was still counting. Because my count has been for something horrible this whole time. I know exactly how many days it has been since the world ended. I know exactly on what day Birdy and Alice died. I know the exact day that I killed people. And those things only seem to stick out. Sure I know the birthdays of Clark and Jayden, but that was different. Maybe I am still trying to hold on to a different time I’m just never going to get back.

“I don’t know why I haven’t stopped, but maybe some day.. when I guess I’m ready to let go.” I was a little disappointed that I was still holding on to something like that. Dean must have noticed my disappointment and stepped closer to me. He turned me to face him.

“Don’t feel disappointed about something like that. When you’re ready to move on, you’re ready. Everybody takes their own time in this stuff. It’s not like anybody knew the world was going to fall apart.” He reassured me. That made me feel happy. He was standing so close now our hands were almost brushing. I don’t know why but I got the urge to give him a hug. Maybe it was because I was still very stressed. Maybe it was because I finally felt some what safe. Or maybe it was just because I wanted too. So for the first time in a while I decided to listen to my instincts and give him a hug. I put my arms around his torso and put my head against his chest. “Thank you.. for everything.”

At first he seemed to hesitate and I was about to pull away until he put his arms around my shoulders. “No problem, doll.” He said. It felt so good to have human contact again like this. He was so warm and he smelled like whiskey, gunpowder and motor oil. He smelled soo good. I pulled back to look at him. I never noticed, but his eyes are a beautiful emerald green and he had a few freckles spread around his face. Probably never noticed this, because I’ve never been this close to him before. We were both looking deep in each others eyes, until I felt a ball hit my leg. I quickly let go and gathered myself. Jayden was running up to me.

“Mamma, ball.” He said happily. “Did you just make a sentence?” I asked happily to Jayden. “Mamma, ball.” He said again. I have never heard him say a two word sentence before. I lowered myself to hid eyesight. “Do you want me to play?” I asked and he nodded at that. “Alright lets go.” I told him and walked off. “Thank you again for the ball Dean.” I told him one more time. Dean gave me a wave as he walked back to the gate.

“So.. you and y/n?” Jody said with a knowing smile. Dean took his gun from Jody. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Dean said as he was doing his best to avoid Jody’s gaze. “Yeah right mister though guy.” Jody said laughing as she was going back on the look out. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked slightly irritated. “Hmm.. Nothing. Lets get back to work.” Jody stated. She knew what she meant. Around everybody he had a though demeanor, but around y/n or Clark and Jayden he seemed to turn in a softy.

“Why did you tell y/n that Claire found the ball?” Jody asked. “Because she did.” He stated. “Claire told me something else though.. Didn’t you go out your way to find a ball? Or did she tell me that wrong?” Jody gave Dean a knowing look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stated. Dean looked back around to see that y/n, Clark and Jayden were going back inside. It was getting quite cold. She waved at me as she went back in. Dean smiled and waved back at y/n as she walked in.

I took Clark and Jayden to the kitchen to get something ready for them to eat for dinner. Donna had just finished making dinner with two other people that lived there. “Oh Hiya little troublemakers.” Donna said smiling at Clark and Jayden. They loved Donna. I mean what was not to love about her, she radiated this happiness everywhere she went and when ever she smiled you just couldn’t help yourself and do the same.

“Hi Donna! Guys say Hi.” I told Clark and Jayden. “Hi Donna.” Clark said and Jayden waved. “Still not much of a talker?” She asked me. ”No, not yet, but it will come.” I told Donna more reassuring myself. “I got some food ready. You guys hungry?” Donna said changing the subject. Clark and Jayden were basically jumping up and down.

As Donna and I were getting plates ready Claire walked in to get some dinner too. She got a plate and started putting food on it. “Thank you by the way for the ball you and Dean found.” I said, I decided to not single her out because she usually seems a bit more reserved and I didn’t want to put her on the spot.

“Oh.. Uhm.. You’re welcome, but I didn’t find it.” Claire told me. “Dean and I had split up he said he wanted to look for toys and when he came back he found a ball for your kids.” She went on to explain.

“Oh, Dean sai.. Thank you anyway.” Claire gave me an awkward smile and went to sit down.

I thought that was really sweet that he took time out of his day for that. Why couldn’t he just tell me that himself?

...

Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! :)

#dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #deanwinchtser #sam winchester #supernatural #the walking dead #supernatural fanfic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #dean winchester

10 notes · View notes

barrysjumpsuit · 5 years ago

Text

blindsided - oc x rafe cameron (ch. 2)

me??? posting chapters two days in a row???? (who is she)

part one

word count: 3k

warnings: abuse and mentions of past abuse, cannabis use, cocaine use, mentions of sex, plot/timing holes (just dont think abt canon too much it’s pretty loose)

synopsis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: really enjoying how this is coming along bc i’m totally just making it up as i go. ya boy jj makes an appearance in this one!! and BARRY!!!! next chapter has more plot i PROMISE

--------

The sun was about to set as Christy arrived home.

“Home” was a relative term. She lived in a trailer with a leaky roof, messy yard, and weird smell. Strange people she didn’t know were always there, and it was hard to truly feel at peace when she was there. The only thing that kept her coming back, especially after getting with Rafe, was her brother.

Barry truly was the only thing she had left. The two of them had always been as thick as thieves – they still were, but their own respective businesses had changed them. Christy just grew and sold a bit of weed. She made a couple hundred bucks here and there, mostly targeting tourists. Barry’s dealings were much more illegal, and all the bad things that came with selling blow naturally happened at her house.

She could hear the crackling of a fire as she rounded the corner of the trailer. Barry and a couple others sat there, whooping and hollering. “Look who finally decided to make an appearance,” she heard her brother yell. He raised a beer in the air as if to make a toast. “My favorite sister!”

“Just making sure you’re not twitched out somewhere, B,” Christy said back, not altering her path to the door. Right as she went to pull open the screen door, someone pushed it open, stumbling out of the trailer. “Excuse you.”

“Watch your mouth when you speak to me, little girl,” the man growled at her.

“I’m the one who lives here,” Christy replied flatly, not budging, and the man suddenly had her pinned to the wall of the trailer, a forearm pressing against her throat.

“Yo Luke, lay off of her!” she heard Barry call. Her hands were grabbing at Luke Maybank’s arm, her eyes forced to meet his. His pupils were blown up and delirious. “What the fuck, man!”

Barry pried Luke off of her, and Christy leaned against the cheap railing on the front steps to catch her breath. “Get the fuck out of here,” she heard Barry tell him before he turned to her. “Bro, you good? Where have you been the past few days?”

“I’m fine,” Christy said. Her heart felt like it was going to beat through her chest. Barry reached out to grab her shoulder, but she instinctively flinched away. “I’ve been staying with someone.”

She was aware of Barry watching her as she pulled open the screen door and went into the trailer. It was hot and stuffy. Inevitably, somewhere, something was growing mold, and they would have to deal with it like they had to almost every other time a storm knocked out power. It made her feel guilty as hell, knowing she was staying with Rafe in his kook mansion, while her brother was stuck here, alone, with whatever coked out friends he had with him.

After deciding there was nothing she wanted to eat, Christy made her way through the messy living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. She kept the door locked. Fishing the key out of her back pocket, she unlocked the padlock and stepped into her bedroom.

Her plants were moved hastily in front of her window, since the power knocked out the lights they normally sat under. They took up most of the space in her bedroom, and they also occupied her parent’s old bedroom. Christy couldn’t be bothered to water them; she just took off her shirt and laid on her bed, sweaty and with nothing to do.

She rolled over, pulling out an already loaded bowl and lighter from her nightstand. Pushing herself up, Christy brought the pipe to her lips and lit up, breathing deeply and bringing the smoke into her lungs. She blew out a thick cloud, almost having to cough. The greens were strong but tasted good. She took another hit, then another, before leaning back and closing her eyes.

It was almost unnerving to think about how quickly she had fallen for Rafe. They sporadically hooked up throughout the past couple years. A lot of times they were each other’s rebound. Other times, it was at parties. Despite being from the Cut, Christy was often welcome at kook parties, going where her brother wouldn’t dare going to move product. She didn’t like having a middle man. Grow, harvest, sell, consume. That’s how she liked her bud to go.

She knew Barry and Rafe had a history. But Barry has beef with a lot of people, and so did Rafe. Christy didn’t side with either. Rafe hadn’t paid Barry enough, failing to hold his end of the deal. But Barry had ripped Rafe off, knowing his family had more than enough money to repay him. It spiralled from there until they fought and beat each other an inch from death. Since then, Rafe had cleaned up his act as well as sobered up, and she hadn’t seen him at her place since. It was better that way. She didn’t have to worry about the crossover between her relationship with him and her relationship with her brother.

Barry was a shitty person. Everyone knew that. He moved more cocaine than anyone else on the island. It was impossible for him to hold onto a relationship for more than a week or two. He had a temper, and a mouth and fists to back it up. Despite this, Christy knew he was her lifeline, and she was his. Whenever they had to run errands or go anywhere on the island, they tried to go together. Safety in numbers.

Both of them had people that hated them.

Barry more so than Christy, but they both had enemies. It was just how the politics of drug dealing worked. Christy mainly targeted tourists, playing her cards smartly. In and out, one and done. She premeasured the bud into $10 bags, or as joints using cigarettes. It was a big hit. At each kegger she went to, she could usually pull two or three hundred bucks.

Christy took another hit before inspecting her pipe. A friend of hers had blown and crafted it for her birthday this past winter. It was a swirling design of pinks, yellows, and oranges. It looked like a sunset; every night, she would smoke on their west-facing dock and watch the sunset.

Except tonight. The sky was dark by the time she made her way outside. Barry was no longer by the fire, which was dying. Two of his buddies were still there, laughing at something funny only to them. Christy walked past them, down the dock and onto their little boat. She sat down next to Barry, their shoulders lightly touching on the small bench seat.

Her mind was still racing, and she lit her bowl again. “You’re not going to that kook party tonight?” Barry asked, his voice still with its disinterested tone.

“Nah. With the power out I’m not sure how much bud I’m going to able to get through this. They need light to grow.”

“I’ve been rotatin’ them in front of the windows for you. And watering them,” Barry said. She could tell he was coming down from a high he had likely been riding all day.

Christy could also tell he brought this up for a reason.

“How much short are we?” she asked quietly. “I can see if I can pick up extra shifts.”

He shook his head beside her before putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know man, but we’re short. Fuckin’ Agatha fucked us over, man. I can’t get any more for another couple weeks and I don’t have much left.”

“A lot of mine won’t be ready to harvest for a few weeks. Shit, B, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not like you were here,” he said. His words stung, and I knew he was right. “It’s not like you’re ever here anymore except to smoke pot.”

“Barry,” Christy said, trying to be as stern as possible. “I’ve been working every fucking day. Agatha scared people away, so I’m not making good tips. It’ll bounce back soon, okay? I’ll make ends meet. Every time I come home you’re just blitzed to high heaven off your own product. You’re as guilty as I am.”

Her brother’s shoulders shook with a laugh, and he wiped his nose with a forearm while she took another hit. “I suppose so. You’ve got something on your neck, by the way. Who’s that from?”

Christy stiffened and almost launched into a coughing fit, and Barry knew he caught her. He looked over at her, expecting an answer after she exhaled the smoke. “Some tourist I met the other night at a kegger. Thought he could strike a deal with me.”

“Hmmm,” Barry mused. She couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. “You’ve gotta be careful with them tourons and kooks, never know how they’re gonna use you.”

The weed had hit her enough so that Barry’s words didn’t fully register in her brain. “They’re always up to something,” she agreed. The swaying of the boat underneath her was an odd feeling and she leaned back in the seat, throwing an arm on the back of the seat behind Barry.

The stars were brilliant on the south side of the island, with no light pollution to drown them out. Two nights ago, she and Rafe sat on the roof of the Cameron house, looking at the same sky, but the lights were so bright you could see only a handful of the stars.

It was the simplicity of being a pogue that Christy liked. She didn’t have to worry about her social life or schedule outside of work. She didn’t have to worry about her image. She didn’t have to worry about businesses or making people happy or petty things that Rafe worried about. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted.

With the sky stretching endlessly above her, she felt like she was inside a dome. Like she was in a snowglobe. Agatha was the shake, mixing everything and everyone up. Now, the snowflakes were settling into new positions. Some were unstable, perched on plastic trees or people or houses, bound to fall to the ground. Some were already on the ground, back to their original positions. Others still, small little pieces of glitter, swirled around in the liquid inside.

She didn’t want to inevitably settle back into her old life. It was too mindless and mundane. Wake up, work at The Wreck, sell weed to tourists, hook up with random people. It was repetitive. Christy wanted something with meaning and risk. What was the view like, perched on top of the tallest tree in the snowglobe? Sure, it had potential to fall back to the ground like all the other pieces of snow. But there was also potential to stay there, seeing things no one else could and experiencing something it hadn’t experienced before.

Maybe Rafe was her tree. Holding her up with supportive branches, his roots deep into the soil of Tannyhill. He was here to stay, at least for now.

Maybe it was Christy’s turn to join him.

By four in the afternoon, Christy was done with her day.

She woke up early, tending to her plants before locking up the two rooms and heading to work. The morning shifts were her favorite. Less asshole tourists and more local residents. Christy knew them well, making polite small talk with the older people and getting plenty of tips. Working at The Wreck was nice. It gave Christy a sense of anonymity, making her feel less like a pogue and more like a normal person. For her work shifts she cleaned up nicely, interacting with people who didn’t know about her relation to Barry or her side hustle.

After Christy clocked out for the afternoon after her ten hour shift, she shouldered her backpack and lazily threw her apron over one shoulder. Under her work clothes she wore her swimsuit, ready for an afternoon of surfing with Rafe and his friends.

Stepping outside into the bright sun, she saw Kiara talking with her friends. Christy liked Kiara – she was one of her closer friends, but their relationship didn’t touch the bond she had with those three boys. Christy was friendly enough with them, and she gave them a wave as she walked past.

“Hey, Christy!”

A voice called out behind her and she turned around to see JJ jog up to her. John B rolled his eyes as he left the group to follow Christy. “Yeah, JJ?” she asked.

“Hey, uh, we’re going to have a kegger at the Boneyard tonight, if you’d like to come. I’d like to do some business with you.”

“How much you want?” Christy asked, ignoring any euphemisms people often use when asking for weed. “You better claim yours now, I’m running low.”

“You and everyone else on the island,” JJ said, smiling. “Five grams?”

“You got it, I can bring it to you tonight.” Christy pulled her cigarette carton from her pocket, taking one out and lighting it. “By the way, tell your father it’s rude to assault people at their own home and my brother doesn’t want to see him again for some time.”

JJ’s face dropped. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

She blew out the smoke before answering. “Pinned me against a wall. Nothing that hasn’t happened before, but… B’s stressed out and it won’t be good for either of them or for us if he sees him any time soon.” Christy lowered her voice slightly. “If he needs any blow, let me know and I can be a middle man. Okay?”

“He’s a piece of shit,” JJ muttered, not answering her question.

“JJ,” Christy said sternly, and JJ’s wandering eyes returned to meet hers. “Give him my contact information. I’ll deal with it so you don’t have to. Okay?”

“He’s not your problem,” JJ said, but Christy knew she got through to him as good as she could. “Thanks, Christy. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You got it,” Christy answered, giving him a playful salute with the hand that held her cigarette. At that, they turned away from each other and she started off to where she told Rafe she would meet him to go surfing.

The cigarette gave her a slight buzz. It felt like a warm hug, enveloping her. That little bit of pep was what she needed, coming off an early morning and long shift. Pretty soon, the pavement turned into sand, and she could see several figures ahead holding surf boards.

“How was work, baby?” Rafe asked as she walked up to them. He pulled her into a kiss before she could answer. Christy’s hands rested on his bare shoulders, standing on her tiptoes in the sand to reach his lips.

“It was good,” she replied. “Glad I’m here and not there, though.”

Kelce fake gagged at her words, and Rafe rolled his eyes at him. “Fuck off, Kelce,” Rafe said, kicking sand towards him. Rafe was wearing his sea foam green board shorts, the color glowing against his tanned skin.

“He’s just jealous,” Christy cooed, walking away from Rafe to give Kelce a hug. “It’s okay Kelce, I love you too.”

“Oh wait a second, was that the L word?” Topper asked, breaking Christy and Kelce apart. Topper looked from Christy to Rafe, raising his eyebrows.

Christy looked at Rafe, who jumped in. “Sure was, Top,” he said nonchalantly. “Now can we shut the fuck up and get into the water?”

Kelce gave Christy a confused look at Rafe’s short temper, and Christy just shrugged. They had brought her board, which she left at Rafe’s house. After taking off her clothes, much to the boys’ delight, she slipped the band around her ankle and the four of them started towards the water.

It was a good evening for waves. The water was refreshing, and it was nice to do something normal after Agatha. Rafe’s idea of a date defaulted to a ride on the Druthers, as if to wow her, followed by expensive wine and sex on the boat. It was nice, and she enjoyed it, but Christy had had sex on plenty of boats and it was never her favorite thing.

Surfing with Rafe and his friends was much more up her alley. She was a good surfer, and Rafe knew it. While they were on the water, Topper and Kelce gave him shit for having his ass owned by hers. Christy countered right back, pointing out that she was also owning their asses. It gave her a small victory: something she was better at than the kooks.

They tired quickly, and Christy mentioned the kegger at the Boneyard. “Bring Sarah, it’ll be like a double date,” she told Topper, much to Kelce’s dismay. “And Kelce, look at you. You’re gorgeous, all wet and glistening and half naked. Just stand in the water like that tonight and the girls will be all over you. I’ll make it my personal mission to find you someone.”

The kooks were never one to turn down a party, especially one with easy pickings for both fights and girls. Topper called Sarah while they were walking back to Rafe’s truck; they put their boards in the bed and Christy climbed into the front seat, while Topper and Kelce crammed into the back of the cab.

“She’ll come,” Topper reported. Rafe dropped off Kelce before driving to the Cameron estate.

Topper left to find Sarah, while Rafe took Christy to his bedroom. “Can I shower?” she asked, and he nodded.

The Camerons had hot running water. Another thing she didn’t have on the Cut. It brought up those conflicting emotions again, as she remembered hearing Barry grumble about not being able to shower, which was a very non-Barry thing to complain about. Christy had insisted he use some of the distilled water she had for her plants, but he refused.

She would have to swing back home before the party tonight to get weed, both for JJ and the tourists. Not much was left – she wanted some to keep for herself, but she needed money.

Christy really didn’t want Rafe anywhere near her place.

She just had to hope Barry was out, and that no one was there, or things could get bad.

----

taglist (reply, reblog, or ask to be added!!!) @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @macchiatohno @ampanonyg @hoeforpankow @jjsmentalpolaroids @drewstarkey @obbx-tings @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #rudy pankow #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron

71 notes · View notes

roosterschick · 5 years ago

Text

a soul for a soul

summary: reader and tony volunteer to retrieve the soul stone. reader is an empath, sensitive to all emotions and atmospheres around her. the two have a past and have always cared deeply for one another. she knows she has to make the choice that tony can’t.

warnings: ANGST, profanity

author’s note: yeah so this is straight up angst. this was a vent piece i wrote while literally in tears some time after endgame. figured it’s time i finally posted it. this was originally written with an oc of mine in mind but i adjusted it to make it reader-insert friendly, sorry if there are some awkward sentences due to that.

Vormir was a cold, unwelcoming place. It was a place of devastation and loss. She felt it the second she set foot on the frozen dirt. She shivered, even in her suit. This was a bad place. She wanted to turn back, to step right back onto that ship and never look back. But they had a mission. They had a chance and she’d be damned if she screwed it up because she was scared.

She looked up at the tall mountain ahead of them. She could make out two columns at the top. She let out a shaky breath before looking to Tony who was already looking at her.

“I’m guessing we have to make it to the top of that. Could just fly us up there,” he said, looking at the mountain.

“Okay.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say more. Not with all the emotions overwhelming her. So she stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes as they lifted off the ground.

They made it to the top too soon for her liking. Everything felt worse up here. She stumbled when Tony let her go and he immediately reached for her.

“Thought you’d be used to that by now,” he paused for a beat as he studied her face, “it wasn’t the flying, was it.”

She shook her head. The air was suffocating up there. The cold wind wrapped around her, chilling her to the bone. She could feel death. Could hear it in the wind and taste it in the air. It surrounded them.

“Hey, you’re okay. We’re okay,” Tony said. His thumb rubbed along her shoulder and she could feel the warmth of his touch through her suit. The warmth that she felt from no one else but Tony.

She looked into his honey eyes and the cold surrounding her faded almost immediately. It was what she liked to refer to as the Tony Stark Affect. He could wipe away all the bad feelings just by being near her. Tony Stark was the sun and she was just lucky enough to be in his orbit.

She was ripped out of the moment by a raspy and unfamiliar voice.

“Anthony. Son of Howard.”

Her name and her father’s name followed, causing the hair to stand up on the back of her neck.

They both raised their palms toward the cloaked figure that had suddenly appeared.

“I am not here to fight you. You are here for the stone. I am here to tell you how to get it,” the figure said from under its hood. It almost looked like a ghost, but she knew better than that.

It moved closer and she could make out red skin, stretched taut over a skeletal face.

Tony squinted at the figure. “Okay, Grim Reaper. Just take us to the stone so we can leave you be on your mountain of despair.”

The figure made no acknowledgement of Tony’s comment, just moved away from the pair. They looked at each other before following him to the edge of the mountain. It looked more like a cliff now and the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach returned.

“What you seek lies ahead of you,” the figure said, gesturing to the bottom.

“Then what the hell did we come up here for. I’ll just go down there, grab it and be on my merry way,” Tony said, but she grabbed his forearm and shook her head. She knew it wasn’t that simple. Nothing involving something called a “soul stone” could ever be that easy. She knew that going into this. That’s exactly why she volunteered to retrieve it with Tony. She wanted to be by his side for whatever they would be up against.

“The stone demands a sacrifice. The stone will be yours only if you are willing to lose that which you love.”

The gravity of their situation weighed down on her, pushing down on her chest until she felt like she might have to gasp for air. She forced herself to swallow it down and looked to Tony. He stared down at bottom of the cliff and she knew he was calculating the situation. Trying to find a way out of it. A way for both of them to make it out of here alive.

“Tony,” she said softly. As softly as she could.

“No,” he started, “don’t even consider it.”

“But you’re allowed to? You have a wife and daughter waiting for you to come home. You don’t get to consider it.” The words came out more harshly than she intended, but she was desperate to get her point across. She needed him to let her do this.

“Tony, look at me. Hey. Look at me,” she demanded as she squeezed his arm.

His eyes snapped towards her.

“Let me do this.”

His jaw clenched as he ignored her and began to pace. She sighed, knowing that they were only prolonging the inevitable. They couldn’t go back without the stone. She thought of everyone they lost. She thought of how absolutely wrecked Tony was when he came back, telling them Peter was gone. And with that thought she was more certain than ever that it had to be her.

“Tell me there’s another way, asshole. This can’t be it. There’s always another way,” Tony’s voice was shaky and desperate. “Do you get some sick satisfaction out of watching people die here or something?! Jesus, this has to be some sick fucking joke. Neither of us are dying here, you hear me?”

The figure said nothing, just watched Tony have his tantrum.

“Answer me!”

“Tony,” she reached for him, “please.”

He looked at her, betrayed and angry. Angry that she was even considering this. Angry that she had given up so fast.

“Don’t make me do this,” his voice broke.

She tried to give him a comforting smile. “You don’t have to do anything. Just give me your hands.”

Her back was to the edge of the cliff and Tony moved to her quickly, grabbing both her hands in his.

“We both know it has to be me,” she said, smiling sadly.

He kissed her forehead and held her close to him for a moment, noticing how small she felt in his arms. It wasn’t fair. He knew he couldn’t leave Pepper and Morgan behind, but he also knew he couldn’t let her die for him. It was an impossible choice.

“It has to be me,” she reaffirmed, nodding her head.

He watched her accept her fate in that moment and he wanted so badly to just… jump. To be the one who sacrificed himself. But then he remembered Morgan’s words the other night. ‘I love you three thousand.’

The words that struck him to his core and had him tearing up once he shut her bedroom door. How could he leave her? How could he leave Pepper?

But how could he let the woman in front of him die so he could live.

Impossible choice.

“I know you’ve got about a hundred thoughts running through your head right now and I’m gonna need you to stop. It’s simple. We need the stone. One of us has to die for it. You need to make it back home to your little girl. It’s a no brainer,” she tried to make herself sound brave, tried to hide the tremor in her voice.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m okay with this. You take that stone and you make sure we get every last person back.”

“Knew I should’ve brought the raccoon,” he tried to joke but it came out weak.

She laughed anyway. She always laughed at his stupid jokes. That’s one of the things he loved most about her.

God, he wasn’t ready to let go of her. He would never be ready.

They were both shaking, hands holding each other’s so tightly that it hurt. He took one last, long look at her. He took note of each and every freckle sprinkled along her nose and cheeks. Took in the sight of her big doe eyes looking up at him. The way her eyelashes fluttered as she furiously blinked away tears. The pink in her cheeks from the cold.

He let the tears fall freely and she broke a hand away from his so she could rest her hand on his cheek. She wiped away the tears with her thumb and he melted into her butterfly soft touch.

“Close your eyes,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt her lips just barely brush against his.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered without hesitation.

And then she let go of his hand.

He opened his eyes to a blinding white light. The mountain shook violently beneath his feet and then everything went dark.

When he awoke, he was soaked. He sat up abruptly and looked around for her, but all he saw was endless water. She was nowhere to be seen. There was something in his hand. Small and solid. He opened his fist and saw the glowing stone resting in the palm of his shaking hand. The proof of her sacrifice right in his hand. He closed his fist again and wept. She died so he could go home to his family. So they could bring everyone they lost back.

She told him “whatever it takes.” She meant it.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction

89 notes · View notes

fairfaxleasee · 4 years ago

Text

Wounded but Still Unbroken

Might put this on A03 at some point if I ever bother setting up an account.

Pairing: OC Traveler/Vexx

CW: Blood, implied/referenced self-harm, panic attack, autism spectrum disorder, schizoaffective disorder

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

Cassandra tensed as she heard the door open, scratching her nails over the table in front of her hard enough to crack one. She assumed it was her father again, taking time out of his oh-so-busy schedule to berate her for having stumbled upon the most inconvenient way possible to exist, remind her that all she had to do was show up when she was told to, look pretty, and act normal and that somehow she managed to fail at all three of those things every time. With the engagement of her older brother...One-Of-Them; Cassandra tried to remember which One-Of-Them it was. Something with an “S”? Sauron? Saturninus? Sycophant? Sure, Sycophant worked, although it was a lateral move from One-Of-Them. At some point nine of Cassandra’s ten siblings had merged into a kind of collective identity to her, there was no point in trying to distinguish them when they all thought the same, all acted the same, all treated her the same, all in every way she could see that mattered were the same-she was “That One” to them, they were “One-Of-Them” to her, it was fair. With him engaged, Cassandra was now the only one of her siblings not engaged or married which had only intensified her father’s desire to “fix” her. To force her, one way or another, into a mold she didn’t understand so she could perform in a role she didn’t want.

“After all,” she could see him in front of her now, face twisted with a level of contempt and disgust that was reserved especially for her, “who the hell has any use for a fat, broken princess?”

“Give up on the other one already? Cass, you okay?”

Part of her wanted to just drop all the exhausting pretense and tell Vexx just how not okay she was. How she had no idea what ‘okay’ even was beyond knowing it was something she had never been, how she seemed to get less of it every day, and how she knew that as long as she was living in what was, quite literally, her father’s system, it was never something she was going to be.

But there was no point. It’s not like he, or anyone else, can do anything about it. Just a matter of doing what everyone else is doing and waiting for the fucking bastard to have the common courtesy of dying and putting everyone out of his misery.

“Nope, finished it this morning. I’m pretty good at these things when people don’t go around messing with my pieces.”

Cassandra glanced back at the jigsaw puzzle laid out in front of her and scowled. She never had the pieces organized in any deliberate way but could always somehow tell when Vexx had been at them, like now.

Vexx was currently holding a piece that was clearly part of the tabby cat in the foreground of the picture-it had an eye on it for fuck’s sake-in an area where the leaves that filled in the background would go. He saw her glaring at him and smirked while starting to try and put the piece in at all the wrong angles.

“Well, I personally think I do an amazing job helping you on these puzzles…”

He dropped the piece he had been using where it clearly didn’t belong and picked up one with roses and started trying to place it into the cat’s area of the puzzle.

“You didn’t answer the important question; are you okay?”

Cassandra snatched the offending piece out of Vexx’s hand before he could get it wrong one more time. She knew he was baiting her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she took the bait, but that didn’t mean she was going to make this easy.

“You mean aside from the giant, red-haired, idiot, soon-to-be-ex-Royal-Guard-if-he-keeps-this-shit-up, jerk-face asshole who keeps trying to assassinate my puzzles?”

Cassandra snapped both the pieces Vexx had been messing with into their rightful homes.

“You wound me, Princess! I think I have a lovely face.”

Vexx reached out and gently took her hand. She flinched at the contact like she always did but he waited until she relaxed before working his way down her fingers to examine the small pools of blood that had formed around the bed of the nail she had cracked earlier. Then he turned her hand over so her palm faced up and tightened his grip over her hand while he placed his other around her forearm so all it would take was a tiny flicker of movement for him to push her sleeve up to her elbow.

Cassandra swallowed and tried to set her face into the impassive mask she knew she never got quite right. She knew what he would find if he moved her sleeve, knew that the only reason he hadn’t moved it was because he knew what she hid there too.

“Cassandra, are you okay?”

“I am as okay as I am ever like to be.”

Vexx’s face twisted with something Cassandra couldn’t quite place, not that that was saying much, Cassandra had trouble with emotions and faces. She cocked her head to one side to put up a perfunctory reaction.

“Cass, I’m a Royal Guard, it’s my job to protect you…”

“THEN WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING TRY AND PROTECT ME FROM WHAT WE BOTH KNOW I NEED PROTECTION FROM?!”

The words exploded from Cassandra’s mouth with a passion and urgency that scared her. She ripped her hand from his grip and went back to the table. She couldn’t see the puzzle through the mist of tears that threatened to fall, but she needed something to lean on and thought she might still be present enough to get some relief from worrying one of the pieces in her hand before she would be forced to turn her anxiety on its more common target.

She felt Vexx’s hand on her shoulder. His light touch was gone quickly, a warning to her that he was going to touch her skin again so she wouldn’t immediately panic at the contact. He grabbed the base of her neck where it met her shoulders and pressed down. The pressure on her supraclavicular nerve was an immediate relief and allowed her to actually breathe again. Not comfortably yet, but hopefully soon. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, Vexx’s grip tightening and loosening with her breathing, but once she could distinguish the individual pieces of the puzzle in front of her, she raised her hand and Vexx immediately let go and backed away.

“I’m sorry…”

Her breathing wasn’t quite stable enough for her to be able to talk normally, but they both knew she was lucky to be talking at all this soon after an episode like that.

“You didn’t...didn’t deserve that...it’s not your fault...and it’s not something anyone can fix. It’s just...what it is.”

Vexx grabbed her in a tight embrace. Cassandra didn’t understand why he was doing it, didn’t understand why she was letting him, and didn’t understand why it was causing such immense relief or transcendent euphoria, but she knew she didn’t want him to let go.

She also knew she had to tell him something that was probably going to make him. But she couldn’t stop herself from gripping his shoulder blades to try and keep him there.

“My father’s right, I’m broken, Vexx. You should just leave and forget about me.”

Cassandra was sure he would let go and walk out, leave her there in pieces just like the puzzle. Instead he squeezed her tighter and whispered to her.

“Even if I do leave, I will never forget about you. And you are not broken. But they want you to be, that’s why they try so hard to make you believe it, and make sure to keep you wounded.”

She buried her face in his shoulder as the tears started to flow again.

“And Cass…”

He shifted, gently nudging her head back so he could lift her chin and bring her to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think there’s anything anyone could do that could break you.”

#andromedatober #a6 #andromeda six #vexx serif

9 notes · View notes

nothingbutfangirlsmut · 5 years ago

Text

The Trials of Emi

Pairing: A little Minho. A sprinkle of Frypan. Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, her twin brother Thomas, and a small group of gladers had been rescued and taken to a safe haven. Or so it seemed. It doesn't take long for Thomas to realize something is wrong. What happens next is a true trial for all of them but Emi's trials began the moment she was ripped away from a dying Gally. Watching someone you love die right before your eyes truly takes a toll.

Finally meeting the right arm could have been the end but betrayal leads to even more chaos and loss. A new mission to rescue those taken from them leads them to a city. The last city. After Emi finally comes to terms with everything that's happened something unfolds that changes everything again. She will have to not only deal with helping her brother take down WCKD and save their friend but also deal with all the new problems in her head and her heart.

Rating: As of right now it’s at most PG13. Some strong language that’s about it but it could change.

(This is the 2nd part/book to my other story "The Maze trials: A Gally Fanfiction". This will cover the events of the scorch trails and the death cure.)

Chapter Fourteen

I had fallen asleep at some point during the night. I woke up laying down in the back seat with my head laying on Newt's lap.

"Morning" he said with a smile.

I pulled myself up in a sitting position. It looked to be late morning early afternoon. Thomas had the map unfolded as he told Fry where to go.

"Did you sleep well?" Thomas asked as he folded up the map.

"It was fine" I said rolling my eyes.

By midday, we were coming up on a mandatory infection checkpoint. That's what the sign had said anyway. The sign and everything past it looked completely run down. It looked like a creepy old ghost town. Fry pulled up to the tunnel in front of us but stopped. We all climbed out to stretch our legs and get a better look at the dark road ahead of us. I had a real bad eerie feeling as I stopped to stand next to Fry.

"Want us to go in there?" Newt asked as he stopped next to me.

Thomas was looking over the map as he stopped next to Newt.

"I don't want to come across as too negative but I mean if I was a crank that's exactly where I'd be." Newt said pointing at the dark tunnel.

"I don't think we have much of a choice." Thomas said putting down the map.

"You're joking" I chuckled nervously.

Newt sighed.

"Alright, I get shotgun." Newt said then went back to the jeep.

I looked at Fry to see him gulp then turn back to the jeep as well.

"Tommy you can't be serious." I said quietly as I stepped over to my brother.

"I'm afraid I am. Come on. We'll be fine." Thomas said but he didn't look sure of his own words.

We both climbed into the back seat then Fry started to drive slowly. I took a deep breath as we entered the tunnel. I did not have a good feeling about this at all. I wasn't one to scare easy when it came to normal humans but these cranks were something out of the devil's worse nightmares.

As we entered the tunnel a little more Fry turned on the headlights as Newt stuck his flashlight out the window.

"Here we go" Fry said quietly.

"Just take it nice and slow." Newt told him.

We drove a few more feet into the darkness.

"Woah, woah, woah," Fry said quickly as he stopped the jeep.

Right in front of us stood a crank.

"It's okay, it's just one. Take it slow. Go around him. We'll be fine." Thomas said.

"Take it slow. Take it slow." Fry said nervously as he nodded.

Thomas leaned back in his seat as Newt quickly rolled up his window.

"Holy shit!" I shouted at the same time Thomas jumped practically into my lap.

A cranked out woman was standing right at Thomas' window.

"Please," she said then pulled at the door handle.

"Help me," she said then tried the handle again.

"Please," she said again.

I screamed as something slammed against my window. It was another crank.

"Fry we gotta go!" Thomas shouted looking back and forth at the two cranks.

My heart started racing. I do not want to die by cranks. I do not want to turn into a crank. Fry screamed making me jump as another one slammed against his window.

"Go right now!" Newt said frantically.

"Just floor it Fry!" Thomas shouted.

"Oh god" I groaned.

Fry slammed his foot on the gas. One crank jumped on the hood of the jeep.

"Come on Fry shake him!" Thomas shouted.

"I'm trying!" Fry shouted back.

I was holding on tightly to the back of Newt's seat as Fry started to swerve like a mad man. The crank fell to the side of the jeep but kept his hold. He hit Fry's window hard.

"Hang on!" Fry shouted then swerved so the side of the jeep would hit another vehicle.

The crank was knocked off.

"Frypan watch out!" Thomas shouted.

Fry slammed on the break as we ran into some debris in the road. The jeep went up on two wheels. It fell on it's side then rolled onto it's top. My body crashed onto the roof of the jeep. I gasped for breath as pain shot threw my entire body.

"You okay?" Thomas asked me as he coughed.

"Yea" I groaned.

Thomas pulled out his flashlight then used it to look out the window.

"Fry cover your eyes." Thomas said.

He turned around then kicked at the glass making it shatter. Thomas crawled out of the broken window headfirst. I was quick to crawl out behind him. He grabbed my arm then helped me to my feet. Fry tried to open his door but it wouldn't budge. Thomas tried to help him but it was jammed tight.

"Fry go around." Thomas told him.

We both ran to the other side as Newt got the door open. He came tumbling out onto the ground. Thomas was quick to grab him and help him stand. Thomas grabbed Newt's face making the boy look at him.

"You okay?" He asked.

"I think so." Newt said softly.

"Fry you good?" Thomas asked threw the open door.

A scream echoed threw the tunnel making my heart beat even faster. A crank came into view. My blood ran cold. We are so fucked.

"Shit" Newt said.

"Frypan, I think we gotta move!" Thomas shouted.

Fry was still in the jeep. The three of us started shouting at him to hurry as the crank started to run at us.

"Fry!" I screamed.

He came out of the jeep then turned and fired a shotgun right at the thing. I leaned over onto my knees.

"That was close." I panted.

"Nice shot Fry." Thomas said.

"Thanks" Fry panted.

More screams followed by several cranks coming out. I groaned as I stepped back.

"Go! Go!" Fry shouted as he turned to fire a few more shots.

"Fry come on let's go!" Thomas shouted.

I grabbed Fry's shirt then tugged him back. We took off running through the tunnel as fast as we could. My lungs were on fire as my heart pumped erratically. The four of us skidded to a stop as another group of cranks blocked our path. We were surrounded.

"Watch out!" Fry shouted as he stepped forward.

"Fry, you got me?" Thomas asked.

Fry continued to shoot.

"Yea!" Fry shouted at him.

The cranks were moving in. We weren't gonna make it. There's no way.

"This way! This way!" Thomas shouted.

Fry turned to shoot at the opposite group as they drew closer.

"Other way! Other way!" Thomas shouted.

Fry turned back the way he was to shoot again. His gun clicked making my heart plummet.

"I'm out!" Fry shouted.

"Shit" Thomas breathed.

I stepped back getting closer to Newt as I watched the cranks getting closer. This was it. There's no way out of this. Out of nowhere, a jeep came crashing threw the cranks then stopped right next to us.

No fucking way.

Brenda stood out of the open roof.

"Get in!" She shouted.

She started to fire back and forth as the four of us rushed to climbed into the jeep.

"Go Jorge! Go!" Thomas shouted once we were all in the jeep.

Jorge hit the gas once Brenda was back in her seat. I had never been so happy to see the light of day as we drove out of the tunnel. I fell limp against Fry as I panted. I'm never gonna get rid of the nightmares now.

"I'm impressed. You guys almost lasted a whole day." Jorge said glancing back in the mirror.

I chuckled as I continued to lean against Fry.

"You good?" Thomas asked Newt as he placed his hand under the blonde's chin.

"Yea" Newt nodded as he smiled affectionately at my brother.

Brenda turned in her seat so she could look at us. She shook her head when she looked at Thomas. He stammered for a moment before getting his words straight.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring you guys into this." Thomas said quickly.

Fry moved so he could lean over the seat.

"Aye, what I think he's trying to say is thanks for saving us." Fry told Brenda.

"You're welcome," Brenda said then turned back around in her seat.

Fry sat back down then put his arm over my shoulder so I could lean against him again.

"Don't get your hopes up. That checkpoint back there was the city's last defense. If that was overrun chances are the city is too." Jorge informed us.

"Yea, unless they figured out some other way to keep the cranks out." Newt said.

I turned my head to look in the same direction he was. The others did the same. Jorge slammed on the breaks stopping the jeep. Fry and I stood up in the back of the jeep as the others climbed out. There was, in fact, a huge city below but it was surrounded by a massive wall.

"Funny, I spent three years trapped behind walls trying to break out. Now we want to break back in." Newt said as he stared at the city.

"Yea, it's hilarious." Fry said sarcastically.

"Jorge, how do we get in?" Thomas asked the older man.

"Don't look at me Hermano. Those walls are new. I guess that's WCKD's answer for everything." Jorge told him.

"Well, we ain't gonna figure it out from up here. Let's go!" Brenda said then turned back to the jeep.

Fry and I sat back down as Brenda and Jorge climbed back in. Newt and Thomas stood a few feet away having a private conversation before climbing back in. I looked back out at the city we were about to try to break into. I really hope this all doesn't turn to shit.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #fanfiction #gally #gally imagine #gally smut #gally x reader #the maze runner #the maze trials #tmr gally #original character

26 notes · View notes

alonely-dreamer · 5 years ago

Text

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 15

Summary: The one where they try to kill Russell Edgington.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 3208

Masterlist

The club had never been so quiet. Pam had gone to rest, leaving her maker alone with his human. It was hard for both of them to say goodbye. Eric thought it was denial that pushed him to agree to Brooke’s plan. Brooke only spoke of hope.

Even after Russell killed a news anchor on live television, the Authority still refused to help Eric and give him any resources that could help him destroy the three-thousand-year-old vampire. The only resource he had was Brooklynne. And Brooklynne had a plan.

“You go to him. You tell him you have a proposition for him. Me. You offer him the sun and in exchange he spares all of us.”

“He’s gonna want to test it, to see if it’s true,” Pam continued.

“So, he drinks my blood and goes out in the sun. I’m only a hybrid, I’m not full fairy, so the effect of my blood won’t last long.”

“That’s when you come in. You step outside when he gets weak and stake him. It’s the only shot we got.”

“I don’t like it,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to like it,” Brooke said dryly, surprising both vampires. “You just have to do it.”

“She’s right,” Pam nodded. “Unless you have a better idea?”

Eric considered it, worried eyes moving from his progeny to his human. He looked for a better idea, a plan that would make him update his will useless, but he couldn’t find any.

“No,” he said quietly. “No, I don’t.”

“How sure are we that your blood can do that?” Pam then asked the question that should already be answered.

“Someone told me.”

“Who?” Eric asked with a raised eyebrow.

Brooklynne avoided their eyes and shrugged. “Someone.”

“Eric’s survival is at stake so ‘someone’ isn’t good enough.”

Brooklynne sighed. “You… you’ll make fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Just tell us,” Pam ordered with an annoyed tone.

Brooklynne hesitated for a moment, then straightened up, getting ready for what was to come.

“My fairy godmother…” she whispered so low a human wouldn’t have heard her.

Eric and Pam stayed silent for a short moment before Pam said: “She’s fucking with us.”

“No, I’m not!” Brooke replied, obviously offended.

“You have a fairy godmother?” Eric asked, as ridiculous as it sounded.

“Yes. Her name is Claudine,” the fairy said as a-matter-of-factly, straightening up on her stool, “she’s also Sookie’s godmother.”

Pam rolled her eyes, speechless for once.

“Is she full fairy?” Eric asked.

“Yes, why?”

“How many fairies do you know?”

“Just her… why?” she asked again, now getting suspicious.

“So, fairies aren’t extinct?” Pam said, now thinking about what it could mean for her species.

“Hey, no!” Brooke exclaimed. “Don’t even think about it,” she told the vampires as she pointed a finger at them. “They don’t even live in the same dimension as us.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Eric innocented himself.

“There’s another dimension?” Pam asked, now annoyed at the possibility.

“Yes, they had to leave… our dimension… because it was too dangerous here… because of vampires.”

“It is true then,” Eric said with a sigh, “vampires did run the fairies out of this world.”

“Anyway,” Brooke changed the subject, “we need to find Russell before he finds us. Which is not going to be hard for him since he’s been here before.”

“It’s dawn,” Eric replied. “He won’t be showing up anytime soon. I’ll go to Mississippi first thing tonight.”

“Our probable last day undead,” Pam said. “Want to spend it sleeping?”

“We need to be well-rested for tonight. We can’t take any chances on this one. Do you want to go home? See your siblings?” he asked Brooklynne.

“Yeah, I do,” she nodded. “But I can’t… they won’t let me come back here.”

“Are you sure? You might not be able to say goodbye…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she cut him off. “Sookie will know what we’re planning, and she’ll lock me up in my room,” she scoffed. “I’ll just… leave her a message.”

“As you wish,” he merely nodded. “Make yourself at home,” he told her as he cupped her cheek in his hand, “we’ll be in the basement.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Sleep well,” she said before she tiptoed to kiss him.

“I really don’t have to see that,” Pam complained with a grimace before she pushed herself off of her stool and walked away.

“You should get some rest too. Ginger will stop by at noon and bring you something to eat.”

“I don’t think I can eat anything…”

“You should, you’re going to need your strength.”

She nodded. “See you tonight.”

He tried to smile as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“See you tonight.”

***

Sleeping wasn’t an option to Brooklynne. She could lay there, on any couch of the club, or even in Eric’s office, but wouldn’t fall asleep, couldn’t even close her eyes. Minutes seemed to be hours and waiting was an excruciating task for the fairy hybrid. It became worst after Ginger never showed up with the food Eric promised her, and if things weren’t hard enough, Brooke received a text message from Sookie that made staying in Fangtasia an even harder task.

“We’re fucking ALIENS.

Fucking fairies, Brooke call me ASAP!!”

The text messages continued to come, faster and angrier, and Brooklynne hoped her sister wouldn’t try to come look for her at the club. Why did Bill choose this moment to tell her the truth about who she was? Damn Bill Compton. Brooklynne was sick of the traitorous vampire. But what could she do? Tell her sister Bill never loved her and it was all a job for him from the beginning? She couldn’t do that. Not in a text message at least. But she hoped she would have a chance to do it, if Russell didn’t kill them all tonight.

Not even a minute had passed after the night had settled that both Eric and Pam woke from their vampiric sleep and returned to the club where an exhausted and starving Brooklynne was waiting.

“Damn it Ginger! Where the fuck is she?” Eric had growled when Brooke told him the waitress never showed up.

The vampire ordered his progeny to fetch some human food and Pam obliged grumbling. Eric took the opportunity to have some time alone with his human, trying to find the courage to tell her what he almost never said to anyone, because he feared there wouldn’t be another occasion to tell her how he felt about her.

He stood there, near the bar, his hand resting on the counter, his eyes on the fairy who was sitting on his chair, on his throne, her legs over the arm, her eyes staring at the black ceiling. She was fascinated by that ceiling, so black, since the lights weren’t turned on, it was a sinkhole where she lost all worries and which allowed her to calm herself.

His eyes traveled on her bare legs up to her perfect face where he found unfocused eyes and tranquility. How could she be so beautiful right now? How could she be so calm and look so innocent as they were about to attempt to kill the eldest vampire in the world. As they were about to die.

“Brooklynne.”

Her name escaped him, and the whisper stayed heavy on his lips, as if he didn’t want her to hear him.

“Brooklynne,” he repeated, louder this time, and with more self-assurance.

She tilted her head towards him, her hair covering the arm of the chair against which she was leaning. She waited for him to talk but all he did was gesture for her to come to him. She stared at the vampire for a few seconds before she put her feet on the ground and got off the throne.

“What is it?” she asked as she neared him.

“I’m leaving now,” he said and the tranquility that had found her earlier left so quickly her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh,” she merely replied in a quiet whisper.

“You know I might not come back.”

“I know,” she whispered and nodded as she looked down at her feet, unable to face him, even though she was dying to look at him, knowing she might never see him again.

He brought his hand to her face, gently cupping her left cheek, making her look up at him as he wanted to see her before he left, see her one last time, trying to memorize the color of her eyes so he could remember them when Russell teared him apart.

“Thank you,” he said calmly.

She frowned. “For what?”

“For being mine,” he replied, and she could feel her eyes fill with tears. “If I die tonight, know that my only regret is that I did not find you sooner,” he said as he got closer to her, bringing his other hand to her face. “And if we never see each other again…,” he paused, the words weighing on him as he had rarely used them, almost never said them, “know that I love you and never have any doubt about it. You make me better, and of all the years that I have lived, I will cherish this one more than any others. I love you.”

A tear fell down her cheek and he was waiting for her to say it back, hoping she felt the same way, knowing he didn’t deserve her or her love. She tiptoed, suddenly, quickly sliding her hand in his hair before her lips crashed on his. He kissed her back almost immediately, with the same need, and the same fear.

She let go, eventually, not just to breathe, but to say the words she needed to say now more than ever. “I love you too.”

And as he heard the words he felt his heart break, a voice in his head telling him he didn’t deserve it, that he deserved to die tonight and that she would be better off without him anyway.

“You’re not gonna die,” she whispered with a trembling voice, the knot in her throat making it hard for her to talk.

“I’m not gonna die,” he repeated, not because he believed it, nor did he hope for it, but to reassure her, to make the pain go away, or at least some of it.

He tried to catch her gaze, to find her eyes, but she could hardly look at him, her eyes looking down, maybe because she didn’t want him to see her cry. He pressed his lips on her forehead and even though the kiss lasted a few seconds, it didn’t feel quite enough to either of them.

He let go, suddenly, and she almost felt naked standing there alone. She turned around, looked around the club to find him even though she knew he was already gone.

***

Pam got back a little while after Eric’s departure and she would have killed Brooklynne on the spot if she knew Eric wouldn’t give her the true death her for it. Brooklynne had never seen the vampire so angry. She broke a few chairs as she raged about her maker leaving without saying goodbye.

“He better not die,” she growled as she threw another chair across the room.

The minutes passed and seemed like hours as both women waited for Eric to come back. Brooke focused on Pam as she knew if Eric were to die, she’d feel it. It was the most horrible feeling than to wait for someone she loved to die. As if hope left her gradually as she waited in silence.

About three hours later after he left, the door of Fangtasia opened and Pam and Brooklynne quickly got up, preparing themselves to see the vampire alive, but also to welcome Russell back to the club. Brooklynne swallowed heavily as she watched the three-thousand-year old vampire step inside, followed by the Viking.

The psychopath was holding a transparent glass jar which contained what seemed to be what was left of Talbot. Brooklynne grimaced as she saw the blood and thought that if Russell weren’t crazy before, he definitely was now, walking around with his former lover in a jar of blood.

“Well, you didn’t lie, I’ll give you that,” he told Eric. “Here’s our willing victim,” he said, pointing a finger at Brooklynne with a creepy smile. “Now we just have to see if she can really give me the sun.”

***

To give Russell the sun, they first had to wait for it. Two hours of sitting still on a stool, forced to listen to his delusional fantasies.

“You seriously expect me to believe she’s fairy? A species extinct for millennia? If they ever existed at all. You think I wouldn’t notice if there were fairies bouncing around in the world?”

“I didn’t say she was full fairy. She’s a human-fairy hybrid, which helped save her from detection. And she agreed to give you some of her blood for you to walk in the sun whenever you like in exchange for our lives.”

“You could synthesize her blood, like Tru Blood, and give the sun to all vampires, and become the richest man on the planet,” Pam told him, thinking the offer would sound appealing to him.

“I have money,” he scoffed as he sat down at the table, on another stool across from Brooklynne. “I don’t want to give the sun to all vampires. I just need it for me.”

“So? Do you accept our offer?” Eric asked walking up behind him.

“I’m intrigued.”

“Excellent,” Eric grinned, looking up at Brooklynne, who knew she should be grateful, but didn’t let herself be relieved just yet. Russell’s next words gave her reason.

“On one condition.”

“Whatever you like,” Eric faked enthusiasm.

“You go first.”

Eric’s smile didn’t fade, but it was becoming obvious that it was fake. They all paused, and Eric nodded after a second: “I’d love to.”

The plan couldn’t work if Eric went first. Brooke’s blood would stop working on him before it weakened Russell enough to allow any of them to kill him. They were all done.

“You have cameras outside, I’ve noticed,” Russell continued, “I’ll watch you from here, and join you if you don’t burn.”

“I’ll see you out there then,” the Viking said as he held a hand out to the hybrid. “Pam will heal you.”

“Okay,” Brooke nodded as she took his hand and got up.

He gently seized her wrist and she shivered when she saw his fangs. She ignored the pain which passed after a second and tried to focus on anything other than her blood being drained. He drank for half a minute, enough that he would be able to stand in the sun for about five minutes, not enough to kill Russell.

“The screens are up there,” Eric said as he pointed a finger to the corner of the bar.

As Russell turned them on, Eric made his way to the door. To the sun. He turned around to look at his progeny, whose instincts were screaming at her to not let her maker expose himself to the daylight, then to Brooklynne, who knew it would work, just not for how long.

“Go on,” Russell said as he saw Eric wasn’t already out there.

The blond vampire took a deep breath before he opened the door to the entrance which led him to the front door. As he disappeared behind the first door, both Pam and Brooklynne joined Russell behind the bar and looked up at the screens. Pam was expecting her maker to go up in flames but as he took his first steps in the daylight, all he felt was the cool air of the early morning mixed with the painless warmth of the sun.

Russell started to giggle like a maniac while Pam lost a red tear of joy. The sun was now a possibility to her, if she ever wanted to take a five-minute walk in the sun. But five minutes in the daylight were better than an eternal night.

“Alright, alright,” Russell laughed, “my turn.”

He jumped on Brooklynne faster than either she or Pam had expected. A scream escaped her as he plunged his fangs in the blue vein of her neck. Pam was ready to forcefully remove him away from her, but she didn’t need to as the vampire was more than impatient to join Mr. Northman in the sun.

Russell suddenly let go of the mortal and hurried outside. He was next to Eric before Brooke ever got the chance to hit the ground. Fortunately, Pam caught her in time. The vampire mumbled something the fairy hybrid didn’t understand before she bit her wrist. Brooklynne was barely conscious when she was forcefully fed the vampire’s blood.

“Feeling better?” Pam asked as Brooke started to open her eyes again.

“Mmh,” was her only response.

After a minute, she had had more than enough to heal and was able to get off the ground.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.”

“What are we gonna do? That wasn’t the plan.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “He’ll probably kill Eric once he realizes the effect of your blood only lasts a little while. Then he’ll kill us both.”

Brooklynne shook her head as she tried to come up with a new plan that would get them rid of Russell for good and save their lives. She looked up at the screens, to see how the two vampires were doing out there in the sun for the first time in centuries, and what she saw almost stopped her heart.

“Pam!”

“What now?” the vampire mumbled.

“Look!”

Eric was lying on the ground, burning next to Russell, his hand cuffed to the King of Mississippi’s, who was starting to feel a little hot too.

“What is he doing?” Pam breathed out, contemplating getting out there herself to free her maker.

But she wouldn’t have to, she didn’t need to. Brooklynne ran outside, with the intention of bringing them both back inside, forgetting that Eric was almost twice her weight.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled at him.

“Go away,” he said, not without difficulty. “No forgiveness.”

Brooke frowned, confused, but didn’t let that stop her.

“I won’t let you do this.”

She knew why he was doing it. He was making sure that Russell died so she and Pam would be safe. What he didn’t understand was that without him, neither of them wanted to live.

“Where’s the key?” she asked as she kneeled next to him and started to look inside the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Go away,” he repeated in a painful whisper. Brooklynne ignored him.

“Damn it,” she said as she realized there was only one solution to the problem.

She positioned herself between them both, rose her hand and aimed for the cuffs. A strong burning and blinding light escaped from her hand and broke the chain of the cuffs that was keeping Eric and Russell together.

“Ah, thank you, dear fairy,” Russell started to say, “I will reward you handsomely.”

“Shut up,” she told him as she grabbed the shoulders of Eric’s jacket and quickly dragged him back inside.

*********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927 @abbey7103

#true blood #the valuable sun #eric northman #eric x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #sookie stackhouse #oc #imagine #reader #sookie x bill #bill compton #eric x pam #pam

77 notes · View notes

waterloou · 5 years ago

Text

OC EXTRAVAGANZA SATURDAY

Helloooo all! I’m bringing back oc Saturday for these trying times to showcase some brilliant ocs! If you’d like to nominate your oc or somebody else’s, feel free to shoot me a msg, ask, or tag #ocextravaganzasaturday ! Also, there’s an option to submit a blurb/moodboard!

Some of these ocs I’ve been able to have my own interact with and they are absolutely fantastic!!!!

Below are links to most things they’ve been featured in!

Binx Bolling created by @s-s-southsideserpentine

Question

Stonewall Prep was all Gothic Columns and high ceilings, first-edition books and layers of dust that were older than most of the students and staff that were lucky enough to find themselves at the old school. They were old money, still running thanks to donations from the rich parents who bought their children a full ride. Money was important at Stonewall, almost integral to a student’s survival. Most students had no problem with this aspect, their lawyer mothers and diplomat fathers could pay for their admissions three times over and still have money to pay for a new winter wardrobe to wear on the weekends when they put their school uniforms away in favor of returning back to their parents’ old victorian houses.

Bianca Bolling was different, though. Much to her own dismay. She was one of two scholarship kids offered a full-ride admissions (the second being none other than Jughead Jones himself), and she realized quickly that she didn’t belong there at Stonewall. The scholarship was offered to her at the end of her freshman year of high school, after she won a local film festival for her drunk driving PSA. The short film was a hit, showcasing a group of friends at a typical high school party before they all got back into the car that someone borrowed from their parents. The squealing of brakes and the shattering of glass was loud, with Binx setting her camera down at a skewed angle to try her best to capture the chaos and disarray of a car accident, red and blue lights blinking in the distance. The short film ended with an artistic twist, and her mise-en-scene won her first place. The Stonewall recruiters found her after the festival, a crowd around her forming as onlookers clapped hands on her skinny shoulders and her eyes darted around anxiously, needing a familiar face in a sea of people.

“Don’t let that kind of talent go to waste, young lady,” The school’s recruiter, Mr. Chipping says, handing her his contact information with a wink and a promise that she didn’t really understand. There were many fights with her family, who didn’t have the money to send her to such a prestigious school, especially not one that was across the entire state. But she fought tooth and nail to get to Stonewall and she hadn’t stopped fighting a single day in the nearly three years she’d been in attendance.

Binx was smart and she wasn’t afraid to claim it, but her monetary status quickly became an invitation for her fellow students to sling insults at her left and right. One day, in the middle of her advanced writer’s seminar, she feels the ice-cold eyes of Bret Weston Wallis on her as he turned around in his chair to sneer at her.

“Looks like your blazer’s getting a little dingy there, Bolling, what? The scholarship committee couldn’t give you a few more bucks to replace your uniform?” He reaches a bony hand to pull at a loose string in the lining of her tweed blazer and she smacks it away with a roll of her eyes.

Silently, Binx raises her hand, barely acknowledging the adolescent taunts coming from such a well-regarded student like Bret.

“Miss Boling?” The old professor lilts, his horn-rimmed glasses falling down his bulbous nose as he wiped chalk dust from his pressed slacks.

“Can I switch seats, professor? I can’t seem to see the blackboard around Bret’s fat ego…”

I’m really excited to see where we get to follow binx. Her story is fascinating and I’m very intrigued to see how the plot unfolds with her and the rest of court’s stonewall ocs. Go give her some love!!!

Bronwynn Atwood created by @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle

About 1

About 2

The bell above the door to Bronwynn’s bakery, lovingly named Risk It for the Biscuit, lets out a loud ding as the door swings open.

“Welcome to Risk It for the Biscuit, how can I help you?” Bronwynn’s deep voice rings out through the small building, but Bronwynn himself is hidden somewhere McKinley can’t see.

“Well, disembodied voice, I need a favor.”

Brownynn pops up from behind the counter with a chuckle, tray of various baked goods in his hands, “Mac! Whassup? What can I do for you?”

“I need your help,” McKinley smiles, tattooed arms crossed over her chest, “I’ve been hired to cater an extravagant mob gala, I need my favorite baker to bake me some decadent goods.”

“I suppose I can do that,” Bronwynn smirks, setting the tray down, “Cupcake?” He offers, taking one in his hand, “New flavor. It’s a vanilla bacon cupcake with ‘pork belly’ caramel. The pork belly is just candied bacon layered with some vanilla and almonds.”

“Sounds ambitious,” McKinley muses, “Gimme.” She reaches her hand out for the cupcake, immediately diving into it as it lands in her hand.

“Fuck.” McKinley moans, mouth full, “That is delicious, dude.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Bronwynn beams, clapping his hands together. “Quinn helped me brainstorm it.”

“You guys make quite the team,” McKinley grins, “It’s a real shame I’m the biggest gay, or I’d snatch you away from her in a heartbeat, if it meant I got baked goods like this every day.”

“You could just come get some anyway,” Brownynn rolls his eyes, “You know I’m not gonna charge you.”

“And that, my friend, is why you are the best bro.” McKinley wipes some excess icing from the corners of her lips, licking it off her fingers.

“Don’t let Apollo hear you say that.”

“Shit, I’d sell Apollo for a dozen of those cupcakes.”

“I’d sell Apollo for a nickel.”

First off, mgk is a v pretty man, second, Bronwynn is a very wonderful oc. He’s a gang member, a great friend, an amazing boyfriend, and a fantastic baker! Go show him some love!

Estelle Ollier created by @humangrumpycat

Intro

Greek Mythology moodboard

Tsp: riot night

Underneath the surface: Riot Night, The Devil’s House

The door opens as sheriff Minetta enters the room, giving Audrey his signature glare.

Audrey jumps up, picking at her nails, waiting for Minetta to start.

‘You're free to go, miss Lincoln,' he sighs.

'I am?' Audrey yelps.

'Someone bailed you out,’ Minetta replies.

'Who?' she asks as she dusts off her skirt on her way to the bars.

'Smile!' a voice calls.

Audrey turns to the voice, followed by a soft gasp.

'Estelle-'

'This will look fun in the yearbook,' Estelle smirks.

'It's not funny!' Audrey whines, stomping her feet for emphasis.

'It's a little bit funny, Abe,' Estelle laughs. 'I mean, what the hell did you do?'

'You threw a Molotov cocktail at a car?' Estelle exclaims, covering her mouth to hide her laughing.

'Someone handed me a bottle,' Audrey corrects. 'And I panicked because it was on fire, so I threw it away.'

'You threw a Molotov cocktail,' Estelle squeaks.

'It was on fire!'

'You threw it at a car,' Estelle laughs. 'You couldn't throw it in the bushes, or the river?'

'The Earth is dying, Estelle,' Audrey barks. 'I'm not going to help kill the Earth.'

'I can't wait to tell Jonathan, he's going to die,' Estelle smiles.

'Oh please, don't tell him,' Audrey whines. 'Remember the see-saw incident back in freshman year? He would not shut up about it for weeks.'

'That was before he started dating me,' Estelle mentions. 'I'll make sure he'll be cool about it.'

Audrey sighs in relief.

'But first, we'll laugh at this photo,' Estelle grins, holding up the photo she took earlier.

'You told Minetta you deleted that!' Audrey yells.

'I lied,' Estelle points out.

'Never trust a journalist.'

Estelle is fierce, loyal, and incredibly smart. She’s an amazing journalist and detective(what Betty wishes she could be👀). Go give her some love!

Reyna Lewis created by @daddylorian

Meet Reyna

About

Reyna is loving, and real when she needs to be. She tells it like it is and has a real talent in things she puts her mind to! Go give her some love!

Valentina Fogarty created by @lonely-full-of-secrets

About

Valentina is so good and sweet and hardworking (and the perfect match for my oc Duckie). Once she lets herself be comfortable, she’s the life of the party! Go show her some love!

#ocextravaganzasaturday #riverdale oc #check them out!#vannah oc #bronwynn atwood #court oc #binx bolling #laurien oc #estelle ollier #mitchie oc #reyna lewis #ella oc #valentina fogarty #ghoulie oc #southside oc #stonewall prep #ocextravaganzasaturdays

18 notes · View notes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired · 5 years ago

Text

alrighty! im gonna talk about my two new dr!ocs and some updates on sheon’s whole thing. remember they don’t have names yet adkaljasdkfa

SURVIVOR: the ultimate jazz singer.

as mentioned, she’s the ultimate jazz singer. pretty subdued personality, but she’s the type of jazz singer who would just. scream into a microphone a la screamin jay hawkins. she is pretty neutral/friendly but disconnected in the prologue/first chapter/second chapter. she gets more jittery as the interactions go on. but once you get to the post-fte section of chapter two, that night she actually tries to kill the protag. at this point its revealed her big Angsty Backstory is she got involved with drugs through the music scene and is currently suffering withdrawal symptoms and is Super desperate (something ive seen a lot with my co-musicians and its not good) big breakdown, really delirious, will eventually be talked off the ledge and calmed down. kind of like if sayaka was actually calmed down in thh chap 1

just so happens that during the night whoopsy someone else was killed. so you two have an alibi but to reveal it means you tell everyone about her issues. either there might be a lying feature like in drv3 to cover, or you tell the truth and end up isolating her. for chapter three and most of four she will keep her distance from the protag bc she’s uncomfortable but will eventually reach out to be friends again after chap 4 execution.

is generally pretty useful during trials, tends to be a person who tries to help calm down more emotional students and look at things logically. is good at trying to calm down the blackened once the protag catches their bluff bc she understands what its like to be desperate. she does, however, cry during/after every punishment. tells others not to speak poorly of their executed classmates.

she compulsively chews gum, and one of her favorite gifts would be gum. jokes about having an oral fixation. during school mode she might joke about singing love songs but being so awkward about it in real life. really likes dogs, has a dog plushie in her room.

a first two fte will focus on her health/wellbeing. the third she’ll ask to not talk about that anymore and the next three are just about general stuff. the final one she’ll basically go a little further into detail but the moral of her story is like, she’s not a bad person for doing what she did, no one is. she’s just a person. and it cn happen to anymore.

dresses in clothes more inspired by late mod/early 70s fashion. hoestly im seeing like a turtleneck/pantsuit combo. short curly hair. big heavy under eyelashes.

MASTERMIND: the ultimate drag racer (ultimate cruiser)

ok but I LOVE him. personality wise he’s the story’s anxious character, think closer in personality to chap 1 shuichi. quiet, skittish, easily flustered, sometimes cracks jokes that fall flat. he’s framed for the chap 1 murder (someone died in a go kart accident, its assumed he sabotaged the other car, his argument is why would he kill someone in a race in front of all his classmates?) the protag obviously works hard to prove he’s innocent. after the execution he makes a promise to the protag that he owes him one big time, and while it seems innocent at the time, the wording should have like. a slight suspicious undertone.

he’ll investigate weirder areas of the school instead of practical (sometimes he has clues sometimes not) and if there’s ever a mechanical question for a trial, you’ll generally ask him for clarification. he’s not very trusting of others and is often the one to accuse others/bring the information learned in trials back into the real world and make a big deal out of it. for example, he’ll make a big deal about the attempted murder in chap 2, and he’s the one who’s constantly accusing sheon of being a traitor

at first he seems like he’s just anxious, but obviously, he’s the mastermind, and he’s trying to tear the group apart.

his fte he’s awkward the first few times but he opens up slowly, showing actual comfort/joy around the protag. wants to be close friends. offers to take protag go karting. while their personality is pretty awkward most of the time, there are flashes of an adrenaline junky every now and then especially when talking about cars, where he seems so full of life and drive it’s almost scary. very competitive during these times, his determination almost taking a sadistic glee when talking about beating others. of course he explains it as his cutthroat sport, but ya know...mastermind. instead of saying we’re going to survive he says we’re going to win. friendly towards the others but doesn’t really care about them focused on protag. is consciously trying to seperate protag from sheon.

for a mastermind he’s actually quite the empath and grows attached to his classmates, which he actually takes pleasure in the amount of despair he feels after each of their executions. reason behind the game is the adrenaline rush he feels, never has felt more alive than on despair. he discovered the rush the first time he got in a car accident, and the moments before his crash where like pure bliss. he wanted to let everyone else feel his feverish joy, and talks about how everyone has enjoyed this, deep down. they’re all getting their sick kicks. breaks the fourth wall and alludes to the fact that the protag (through the player) is having the most fun of all.

final trial where it’s revealed, he’s still v attached to the protag in like an almost yandere way and wants to follow up on the favor he owes from chap 1. he offers a deal to the protag where if they’re welcome to be their accomplice in all this and get out of the game. protag should push to bargain that everyone can give up their morals, sacrifice themselves to despair, and live as the mastermind’s accomplice in exchange for ending the killing game.

eventually, he’ll agree, but only if the group decides one life among them to sacrifice for no other reason than to kill an innocent friend. the way to get to the correct ending is to choose yourself which will like invalidate the deal. protag ends up dying and everyone else lives. leaves the mastermind in a despair, but for the first time, he does not derive any pleasure.

takes a LOT OF GLEE in admitting he convinced everyone else sheon was the traitor when she was not, everyone else is horrified.

anyways. his school mode/love mode events show his more likeable side, he can actually be a really cute partner if it weren’t for the part he’s evil but uh. soft sometimes.

really likes energy drinks. talks about sponsorships. color scheme is like. a black racing suit but his jacket is tied around his waist and he’s wearing a wife beater. tons of accents of neon all over his outfit from like patches and brand deals. backwards hat. blushes easily. has a mullet. i love him.

“TRAITOR” : SHEON FUKUDA (the ultimate film maker)

ok so. still antagonistic. but more in the way of pushing your buttons and pointing out your flaws in a trial. like somewhere between antagonist and kirigiri. super chill personality, cracks a lot of jokes, is hardcore struggling with the games and will be open about her mental illness. her fatal flaw is still her martyr complex

is first framed after chap 2 bc of accused of having the ability to direct and oversee a production like this, and from that moment forward no one can trust her and she’s SUPER alienated. she’s still awkwardly trying to be friends/friendly but people act like she’s going to betray them all. tries to prove innocence multiple times going as far as to beginning of chap 3 announce to the group if they need to kill anyone, let it be her so no one else gets hurt and is super transparent about who she is. but this transparency makes people more suspicious. as she goes on she gets more desperate/gallows humor. last convo bfore chap 5 begins she has a vague conversation about with protag about if they fear death. chap 5 would end up being either a suicide or double murder (they killed each other one in attack the other while being defended against) so there’s no execution but monokuma still wants something. its also in this trial that the ultimate drag racer plants evidence taht makes it look like she’s the traitor and is addressed head on.

a common motif for her is ‘playing the role assigned’ and knowing who she is and who she isn’t. she’s pretty comfortable knowing who she is but expresses unhappiness about being painted a villain. maybe like, three times through the story to this point it’s established as a motif/quirk of fitting a role she’s assigned bc if the protag asks her a question about herself/past/the overall story, she asks the protag a question like well, what do you want 1) 2) and you choose and she’s like. ok. then its _______. same thing here. as she’s finally excused she stares at the protag and is like do you really believe im the traitor? (yes) stares long and hard, somethng sad and defeated in her eyes. ok then. i am.

the trial doesn’t have a punishment originally planned bc the blackened are not alive. but she chooses not to vote and willingly chooses to be punished because everyone else has decided she’s the traitor and she chooses to play along so they can get closure. her last conversation should be about choosing the act of resistance, no matter how convoluted it can be. she doesn’t fear death. the pain sure, but not death. this was her choice to be punished, not the masterminds, and she hopes they lose any glee they take in her suffering because its a sacrifice for hope instead of a death in despair. last request is that she asks for the protag to make sure the manuscripts she wrote during her time are published, the last great work of sheon fukuda.

EXECUTION: CULTURE SHOCK so she wakes up on a soundstage to blinding light. she’s attached with electrodes. monokuma is sitting on a director’s chair with a director’s hat. basically the premise is as the ultimate film maker, she has to recreate different iconic movie scenes and every time she makes a mistake she gets shocked. she keeps on getting thrown into new scenes into the middle of old ones, throwing her off. after a sequence of costume changes/farces she finally collapses in the soundstage.

beat. she looks up. above the soundstage is a sign that says “congratulations” or something. everyone gasps. she believes she beat it. a single light comes on in center stage prompting her to take a bow. she stumbles over, stands up, and looks into the shadows in the general direction of her classmates. a teleprompter prompts her classmates to clap. she takes glee, soaking in her win, and bows. as she comes up she smiles for a second before a short rings out. she’s shot through the heart. culture shock!

fte are mostly talking about directors/film references and what its like to be a film maker. real dry humor, sometimes talks about deeper stuff. her backstory is that her dad was working for an american embassy so she grew up in america going to art shool, and she feels out of place, despite being a japanese student with the same basic culture as everyone else. sometimes talks about slimeball directors, sometimes talks about missing certain food, loves takling about movies. as a filmmaker she specializes in dark comedy/farce which makes her suspicious of how someone can enjoy writing somethng so twisted

views are very intersectional, a little new agey, but still well put together. clearly a free spirit, very quirky from working in cinema, super dry sense of humor. likes philosophy

really likes blueberry jam. favorite item is somthing blueberry.

after chap 1 trial she expresses to the protag how she can never be the blackened, not just because of murdering one student, but to get away with it, everyone else would be punished instead, and she can’t deal with the blood on her hands.

is open about her struggles with mental illness and how she was getting help and showing improvement bfore coming here but now she feels herself spiraling and hates it.

values everyone here as good friends, and while she tries to play it off she hates how they’re painting her as a villain. takes every death very personally.

color scheme is very pastel, and she wears sweat pants and a collared shirt with a light blue robe. you can’t tell if those are pajamas or an outfit. wears rose-colored glasses. all about the aesthetic, just lean so far into film culture with her. personality/feelings towards style are very influenced by the fact she went to an american arts school instead of a japanese school like her peers so every part of her is slightly off/quirky/out-of-touch

she’ll mostly wear the glasses over her eyes, sometimes pushing them down on her nose for emphasis to make eye contact. only her anger sprite (point) shows her taking them off.

during her execution she pushes them onto her forehead before taking her bow, almost to meet eye to eye. after she’s shot the last frame is them landing on the ground, cracking.

i love sheon so much

#dr oc #sheon fukuda #dr after party

10 notes · View notes