#guys check this out HES SITTING ON A GRAVESTONE
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tenderanarchist · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
11.29.2022
48 notes · View notes
intimidating-fettuccine · 7 months ago
Text
Headcanon, since it’s Mother’s Day, that Mother’s Day is a huge event in the mansion.
Slender’s brothers always come over and help out, as do the rest of the creeps. Slender’s mother and Toby’s mother will both come over, and everyone else always tries to make the day special for them.
Both of those moms do a lot of cooking for everyone, so in return everyone does a bunch of cooking for them, and it’s all of their favorite foods. The girls take them out to go to the spa and get manicures and pedicures, and they go out for lunch while the guys are back at the mansion cooking and decorating. When they return, they’re presented with the gifts that everyone has gotten for them, and then they have a nice Mother’s Day dinner.
Toby is practically glued to his mom’s side whenever he can be, trying to do whatever he can for her because she’s all he has left and she wants today to be as special for her as it can be. The Slender brothers are extra attentive with their mom as well, especially considering they don’t often get to see her because of their conflicting schedules.
I think it makes both of the moms incredibly happy that everyone in the mansion does their best for them because of the fact that to everyone in the mansion they are their mother figures.
They all sit around the table talking and laughing while they eat, with the moms sharing a few stories about their children growing up, some of which are embarrassing much to the chagrin of said children. By the end of the night Slender’s mom takes her leave so she can go celebrate Mother’s Day with their father, but I think Toby’s mom probably spends the night before heading back to Earth from the Underworld the following day.
However, as night sets in, a few of the creeps also sneak out of the mansion to pay some visits. BEN/Jane/Nina always goes to visit their respective mom’s gravestones on Mother’s Day, staying there for hours at a time, because it’s days like today that they miss their moms the most.
The other creeps that had good, loving parents that are still living also sneak out, enviously looking through windows, checking on them to make sure they’re doing okay. Creeps like Tim/Brian/Kate/Puppeteer that (in my canon) had loving parents and loving homes long so strongly to be able to just pay them a visit, tell them that they’re okay, they’re still here after all these years, but they can’t. Despite their longing, they settle for watching from a distance, and leaving anonymous gifts like flowers on doorsteps.
Creeps that didn’t have good mothers spend the night together, having done their best to make the day special for the two invited moms. Jeff/Liu/Natalie/Helen comfort each other, bittersweet about the fact that they wish they had a mom of their own to celebrate, a mom that was much kinder than the ones they were born to. However, they can’t do anything about that fact, so they turn to each other and the incredible mother figures they now have to fill that void.
Mother’s Day is always a big event, and it’s also one of the more emotional days of the year for the creeps. However, all of them are in agreement that no matter what they’ll always appreciate the two women that now care for all of them and do their best to support them.
120 notes · View notes
hollyethecurious · 1 month ago
Text
CS AU: Being Ghosted (1/?)
Tumblr media
Summary: "I dare you to sit alone in the Storybrooke Cemetery until after midnight." Who knew a game of Truth or Dare would become an issue of life or death?
A/N: Much thanks to @kmomof4 for giving this a once over for me. This checks off the cemetery square of my Bingo card and the next part (coming soon) will earn me a BINGO!
Rated T for now / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!
Part One
I dare you to sit alone in the Storybrooke Cemetery until after midnight.
Emma Swan hated her friends.
Why couldn’t they have dared her to something more typical of a college student on Halloween? Why not dare her to slam a beer, or kiss one of the random guys that had crashed the party, or go streaking down the quad?
Because they obviously hated her as much as she hated them.
Okay. Maybe hate was too strong a word, but still… she had unfriendly feelings toward them at the moment.
A curse slipped from her lips as she tripped over one of the flat gravestones that littered the area of the cemetery closest to the public park. She’d decided it would be best to not park her bright yellow bug at the actual entrance of the cemetery, seeing as visiting interred loved ones after dark wasn’t exactly permitted.
After traipsing through the treeline that separated the public park from the cemetery with nothing more than an old flashlight and its quickly dying batteries - leave your phone in your car. You have to be completely alone - it was no wonder she’d nearly lost her footing. There was practically no moon and the faint solar powered grave lights adorning a few of the headstones did little to illuminate more than the names and dates of those long passed.
Trudging a bit further into the center of the cemetery, Emma found a tall headstone to rest against. She spread out the blanket she’d brought with her, sat down, leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“This is stupid,” she muttered, refusing to let the intrusive, ridiculous, superstitious, completely irrational thoughts currently parading through her mind make a home there.
There was nothing to be creeped out about. There was nothing scary or unnatural about a graveyard. All she had to do was sit here for…
A frustrated sigh huffed from her chest. Without her phone, how was she supposed to know when midnight was?
There was nothing for it. She’d have to go back and get her phone so she could keep tabs on the time. There was no way she was staying out here a second longer than she had to, and not because she was scared, or creeped out, or had chill bumps already forming on her arms. Nope.
Leaving her blanket behind, Emma set off back towards her car. She’d only managed to walk a few steps when the flashlight batteries finally gave up the ghost… so to speak, plunging her into darkness.
Slapping her palm against the infernal thing in the hopes of reviving it, Emma let out another expletive.
“The fuck am I gonna do now?”
“Good question,” a voice said from behind her.
Emma screamed and spun around. The face of a strange man, being illuminated by his own flashlight shining up from beneath his chin, had her stumbling backward. If not for his quick actions, she would have tumbled over the back of a headstone and probably landed on her head. Instead, she found herself wrapped in his embrace, having pulled her back onto her feet in just the nick of time.
“Whoa there, lass,” he said, adjusting her in his arms to ensure she was steady. “You don’t want to go joining these poor souls before it's your time.”
Attempting to wriggle out of his hold, Emma straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Let go of me.”
He did as he was told, staying close for a moment to make certain she was sure on her feet before stepping over to where she had left her blanket.
Gathering it from the ground, he held it out to her. “Best not linger here, love. The cemetery is no place for the living after dark.”
Taking the blanket from him, Emma’s eyes narrowed at the man - the handsome, heart-flutter inducing, accented lilt that could make her toes curl, while giving off an air of danger that just made him an impossibly more appealing type of man. Dismissing the erratic beat of her heart as something simply caused by the fright he’d given her and not the lop-sided smile and smoldering eyes currently fixed her way, Emma hugged the blanket against her chest and demanded to know, “What are you doing here then?”
“I work here,” he informed her with all the confidence and authority of a practiced liar.
Because it was a lie. Or half-truth at the very least. Emma could always tell.
Letting out a quiet hum that expressed her doubt, she clocked the way he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear before glancing around them as though he expected someone else to make an appearance.
Was there someone else in the cemetery with them?
“Look, love,” he began, his tone a bit tighter and more urgent. “I really must insist that you leave here at once. For your own good. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Emma scoffed. “I don’t even know you.”
“All you need to know is that if you stay here you’re putting yourself in danger.” Before she could pull away the man grabbed one of her hands. “Here,” he said, placing his flashlight in her palm. “Take this and get back to your vehicle.”
“But you still haven’t told me what you’re…”
Her words fell away, choked out by shock and a fresh swell of fear. When she’d cast the beam of the flashlight after the man who was quickly rushing away, she caught sight of a mound of freshly dug earth on the other side of the cemetery. A shovel was sticking out from the pile and she could barely make out the dark chasm of the grave that had been newly exposed.
Was he some sort of grave robber?
Emma turned on her heel and made a beeline for the trees. Her only thought was to call the police, but before she reached the boundary of the cemetery a cold gust stole her breath away. A shrill shriek forced a ripple of terror to tremble down her spine and a silent petrified scream tried to force itself from her lungs when a ghostly figure of a woman manifested right in front of her.
“Get down!” the man shouted and Emma turned in time to see him brandish a shotgun.
Dropping to the ground, a blast went off overhead and she felt small, hard pellets rain down on her as another shriek pierced her ears.
“Are you alright, love?”
The man hauled her to her feet, and unlike the last time it was Emma who now clung to him, her hands holding fast to his upper arms as she tried to reconcile what had just happened.
“W-What was that?”
“That,” he said softly, his gaze filled with obvious remorse as he confirmed her worst nightmare. “Was a ghost.”
“A g-ghost?” Emma shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am deadly serious,” he said, brushing the substance he’d fired from his shotgun off her head and shoulders.
“A ghost,” Emma repeated, her mind still grasping for reality as her grip remained tight around his bicep. “Who… whose ghost? How did you…? Is she…?”
“Her name was Cruella,” he told her. “She died in the 1920s and has been haunting the park since her family home, which used to reside there, was torn down in the early 80s. Haven’t you heard the stories?”
“About de Vil Park?”
The man nodded as Emma searched her memory for the tales people often told about the public park. It had been donated by the family whose estate had once been the central landmark of affluence until a murderous scandal had tarnished the de Vil name. The mansion had fallen into disrepair and was ultimately condemned and bulldozed, the land left to the city for public use and made into a park.
Emma had heard stories about people refusing to walk their dogs there, something about the trails making the animals skittish or aggressive. There had been a public health scare when she was in middle school. One fall several kids had been bitten by varying animals - squirrels, a raccoon, and maybe a possum? - and one of them contracted rabies. Most people avoided feeding the animals in the park, fearing attacks, and although after dark activities were allowed, few went there after sundown.
“Is she the reason that animals act strangely there?”
“Aye,” the man said, his eyes casting about and the muscle at his jaw pulsing. “More recently though, she’s taken to tormenting a local woman who unknowingly purchased one of Cruella’s fur coats from an antique store.”
“And you’re here to…”
His eyes cut back to hers, locking on with an intensity that had the same breath stealing effect as the ghost - for different reasons obviously - and causing her to nearly miss the vow he uttered in a low, gruff timbre.
“To put a stop to the bitch. For good.”
“How?”
His reply was cut off by another screech and drop in temperature.
“Bloody hell! Get behind me, love.”
Emma did not hesitate, clinging to his back as the apparition appeared. With practiced skill, he opened the shotgun chamber, loaded two shells, snapped it shut, aimed, and fired a spray of something that made the ghost vanish once more.
“What was that?” Emma asked, following at the man’s heels, his destination becoming clear as they approached the freshly unearthed grave.
“Rock salt,” he answered. “It won’t destroy a spirit, but it does act as a deterrent, forcing them to dissipate briefly.”
“What does destroy a spirit? How does one kill something that’s already dead?”
“You have to salt and burn the bones of the person,” he said matter-of-factly, reaching into a duffel bag and pulling out a canister of salt. “And any earthly object the spirit might be tied to.”
Jutting his chin down towards the grave, the man turned her attention to the ghastly scene six feet below. The lid of her coffin had been pried open, the decaying, partially skeletal remains of Cruella de Vil exposed to the elements for the first time in a hundred years. She’d been laid out in a black gown and once luxurious fur, her fingers and neck draped in jewels, and her hair, still attached to patches of skin affixed to her skull in contrasts of black and white, had been fashioned in a split bob which had been popular in her day. At her feet rested a well kept, white fur coat with black spots, and Emma could only surmise that it was the very coat he’d mentioned moments ago.
A shower of salt crystals rained down on the corpse and coat, followed by a flood of lighter fluid. Emma’s nose wrinkled at the fumes wafting up from the grave, and she finally tore her eyes away from the body when he warned her to step back.
She complied while watching him dig a lighter from his pocket and held her breath when he flipped open the cap and set his thumb against the flint wheel. Another angry gust swirled around them and Emma was too late to call out a warning when the ghost of Cruella appeared once more.
“Look out!” she screamed, but the spectre already had the man by the throat. Hoisting him off his feet, she slammed him against a nearby crypt, his face turning purple from the crushing force against his windpipe. His hands desperately clawed at fingers he could not touch and his eyes began to roll back in his head. With great effort he managed to croak out, “Burn her!”
Emma scrambled about on her knees in the grass at the foot of the grave, knowing he’d dropped the lighter there when the ghost attacked. With shaking hands she flipped open the cap and swiped at the flint wheel futilely a few times before a flame finally sparked. Dropping the lit lighter into the grave set off a cacophony of screeches, shrieks, screams, and wails. Emma covered her ears and balled herself up as a means of protection. Wind whipped around her, the chill of the air and the cries of the ghost causing her to shake violently.
An eerie silence fell over the cemetery, broken only by the sound of the flickering flames consuming Cruella’s corpse and a soft, aching moan groaning from the man as he picked himself up off the ground.
“Are you okay?” she asked, uncoiling herself yet unable to stand just yet, not trusting her legs to hold her.
“Aye,” he croaked, lumbering towards her. “Thanks to you, love.” Rubbing his neck, he looked down at her with awe. “You were bloody brilliant. Amazing.”
She let him help her up, the two of them staring into the other’s eyes, their chests heaving in tandem.
“So, um,” Emma began, pausing to wet her lips and noting how his gaze fell to follow the action. “What now? Is she… gone?”
“She is,” he assured her. “And we should probably vacate as well.”
“Right,” she said, shaking herself from the attraction she should absolutely not be feeling for the ghost hunting, grave digging, creeps about in cemeteries at night, dark and mysterious man.
He also broke away, scratching that patch of skin behind his ear once more before telling her he needed to fill in the grave.
Unsure as to whether she ought to stay until he was finished or leave now, a thought suddenly occurred to her, prompting her to ask, “Um… you wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?”
He paused and pulled his phone from his back pocket to check, then told her, “11:53. Why?”
“It seems stupid now, but, um… I’m supposed to stay until midnight.”
“Midnight? Why midnight?”
Embarrassment prickled over Emma’s skin as she admitted, “I was dared to during a game of Truth or Dare with friends.”
The man laughed and began filling the hole once more. “Truth or Dare, huh? I couldn’t tell you the last time I played Truth or Dare.” Pausing again he pondered the thought for a moment then stated, “Actually… I’m not certain I���ve ever played it.”
With a shrug he set to work again and Emma could not fight off the compulsion to explain herself and why she’d played the childish game in the first place.
“Yeah, well. It’s my senior year of college. I graduate in May and it seemed like a fun thing to do. You know… before I have to seriously start my adult life and whatnot.”
Shut up, Emma. You’re rambling like an idiot!
The man made a sympathetic sound, another shovelful of dirt landing in the now shrinking hole, and admitted, “My adult life began the day I went on my first hunt. I was eleven.”
“First hunt? You mean…”
“Ghosts?” he supplied, when she couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. “Aye. Although, they aren’t the only supernatural entity we hunt.”
“We? You mean there are others like you?”
“Fewer now than there used to be, but…”
His words fell away and his attention jumped towards the cemetery entrance.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly wiping down the handle of the shovel. “Someone’s called the police.”
Emma spun towards the entrance and saw the red and blue strobes of police lights pulling into the parking lot.
“What do we do?” she whisper-yelled at the man who was stuffing his things into the duffle bag, the wiped down shovel cast aside atop the pile of dirt he hadn’t managed to return to the grave.
“Where did you park?” he asked, zipping up the bag and taking the flashlight from her.
“At the park. Why?”
He grabbed her hand and rushed them towards the treeline. “That’s where I’m parked as well,” he informed her. “Less conspicuous that way. With any luck we can get to our vehicles and get out of here without being seen.”
In their haste, Emma nearly forgot about her discarded blanket, but they managed to locate it before exiting the cemetery. They came out of the treeline near his car, a classic 1970s Chevelle, and he wasted no time stowing his duffel bag in the trunk and stripping off his jacket and outer shirt which were covered in dirt.
“I, uh…” Emma began, unsure of what to say, but it didn’t matter. The presence of red and blue lights, preceding a cruiser that was about to turn into the park had her pivoting. “Come with me,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading them back into the treeline.
“What are you doing?” the man demanded in a frantic voice. “We can’t go back that way, they’ll--”
Emma cut him off, her fingers pressing against his lips as she urged, “Help me spread out the blanket.”
With confusion knitting his brows, he did as he was told then knelt down beside her on the now flattened blanket.
“Kiss me,” she said, causing the man to balk.
“What?”
Knowing time was not on their side, Emma grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled his mouth to hers with enough force to topple them over. He grunted as they hit the ground, but didn’t pull away when she slid her lips against his and threaded her fingers through the back of his hair. It didn’t take but another quick beat for him to catch on to her plan, and when he did, he threw himself into the ruse with great enthusiasm.
Enthusiasm and passion and heat and… oh my.
His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips and his hips shifted, settling into the cradle of her thighs. Emma groaned and pulled him closer, the taste of him and need of air making her lightheaded. His fingers grazed a path along her ribcage, his thumb tracing the swell of her breast, awaiting a silent cue of consent before he cupped her in his hand and began to knead the needy flesh trapped beneath her bra.
With one hand still held fast in his dark, silken tresses, she raked the other down his back until it reached his jeans, pulling noises from him that made the heat in her belly and throb between her legs intensify. Slipping her hand into his back pocket, she gripped his ass and lifted her hips, grinding against the rigid length that hardened further as something akin to a growl rumbled in his chest.
An honest to God whimper quivered off her lips when he pulled away, but it was quickly replaced by a sharp wanton gasp at the feel of his hot, rough tongue outlining the shell of her ear.
“Gods, love,” he murmured hoarsely, his teeth nibbling at her earlobe while he rocked his hips into hers. “Tell me your--”
“Who's there! What are you two doing out here?”
She and the man both froze at the sound of the policeman’s voice, and Emma had to squint past the shine of flashlights to make out a second officer coming towards them from the opposite direction.
“You heard him,” the second officer shouted. “What are you doing out here?”
“U-Um…” Emma stammered from beneath the man whose attention was set squarely on the first cop. “Truth or Dare?”
~/~
“Let me get this straight,” the officer said, continuing to scrutinize their IDs. “You were at a Halloween party, playing Truth or Dare, and he got dared to come out here. Then a little bit later, you got dared to join him.”
“That’s what the lass said,” the man replied in a derisive tone.
“And what is the lass’ name?” the officer questioned with a smug expression.
“It’s uh…” Furtively, the man cast his eyes to Emma’s before sheepishly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.
“You didn’t get her name before you--”
“I would have gotten it before we parted,” the man said in an attempt to defend himself and Emma was struck by the truth she heard in his statement.
“Did someone report our vehicles or something?” Emma asked, attempting to throw the officer off his questioning. “We told you why we’re out here. Why are you?”
“Someone called in a disturbance,” the officer replied. “You two didn’t see or hear anything?”
“We were a bit preoccupied,” the man quipped, tossing a smirk at Emma. “What sort of disturbance?”
“Someone dug up a grave and set fire to it. You two know anything about that?”
“Bloody hell!” the man exclaimed, his disgust and shock perfectly believable and authentic sounding.
Emma hoped hers did as well. “Seriously? Who would do something like that?”
“You didn’t see anyone else out here?” the officer asked again, his focus intently set on trying to ascertain whether they were being truthful.
“No,” they both emphatically insisted.
“Are you saying they did this recently?” Emma said, pressing into the man’s side. “While we were out here?”
The man put his arm around her shoulders and held her close, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her arm while casting a nervous glance around them. “And you’re certain they’re gone?”
“We aren’t certain of anything,” the other officer said with a sigh, returning from the cemetery to inform them, “Crime unit just got here. You two are free to go.”
Emma snapped her head towards the man who met her gaze. Before either of them could move, the interrogating officer said, “Hold on a minute.”
Joining the other officer, the cop asked in a low tone, “Are you sure? Don’t you think we ought to take them in for further questioning?”
“They’re just a couple of horny college students, not grave desecrating whack jobs,” the other officer countered. “You’ve got their info in case we need to follow up. For now, cut them loose.”
Emma did not have to be told twice. As soon as the officer handed them back their identification they made a beeline for their vehicles.
“Do you know the diner around the corner from here?” the man whispered in her ear.
“Granny’s? Yeah. It’s a popular hangout. Why?”
“Meet me there,” he said, opening her car door for her and letting her slide in behind the wheel before snapping it shut and heading towards his Chevelle.
His engine purred to life a moment later and Emma warred with whether or not to follow him. Chewing her lip, she watched his tail lights disappear and a buzzing sound pulled her attention to her phone.
Twenty-six texts and three missed calls.
Ruby: Remember. No phone!
Ruby: You better not have your phone
Belle: I hope you’re okay.
Belle: And I hope you aren’t too mad at us!
More of the same from Mary Margaret and August. A couple of texts from her brother, demanding she call the moment she’s back at her car. A few more from Ruby with links to ghost story articles. A missed call from David at 12:01. Another at 12:07. The last from Mary Margaret at 12:21.
Emma made a quick group text and sent them all a message.
Back in my car. Safe and Sound. Is the party still going? Gonna run to Granny’s for a hot chocolate then I’ll come back if you guys are still partying.
With her mind made up, Emma set off towards Granny’s and did her best to ignore the constant buzz of her phone during the short drive. When she walked through the door, the bell chiming overhead, her mystery man’s head snapped up from the steaming mug he had wrapped in his hands and a wide smile bloomed across his face.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” he said, reclining back in the booth and draping his arm along the back. “Thought you might have ghosted me.”
His brows danced over his eyes, his smile turning mischievous and Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes while attempting to swallow back an amused response bubbling up from her chest. Stopping at the booth, she waved off his offer to take the seat opposite him, preferring to stand.
“I almost didn’t,” she admitted, tucking her hands into her pockets and scuffing the tile at her feet with her toe. “Would that have disappointed you?”
The man shrugged and shook his head. “Nope. ‘Cause I would have just gone after you.”
“Oh, really?” Emma said in a dubious tone. “And why’s that?”
Leaning forward, he caught her with a sultry gaze and crooned, “Because… I know how you kiss.” Resuming his previous posture, he added, “And I enjoy a challenge.”
“That would be a challenge, all right,” she replied in a taunting tone. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Your usual, Emma?” Granny questioned from the counter, pulling a grin and deep chuckle from the man.
“Emma, is it?” he cheeked. “Does my saviour have a last name?”
Rolling her eyes again, Emma answered, “Swan. Emma Swan, and I’m no saviour.”
“I don’t know about that,” he countered. “You certainly saved my ass tonight. Twice, in fact.”
“Yeah, well… you saved me first, so… we’re even, I guess.” Turning to the counter, she called out to Granny, “Can you make that hot chocolate to go?”
“To go?” the man questioned with evident disappointment.
“Yeah.” Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, she said, “My friends keep blowing up my phone and if I don’t get back they’re liable to call the cops and I wouldn’t want them to blow our cover story, so I…”
“You can’t stay.” His eyes had dropped to the table, an expression of resignation set in his features.
“I was hoping,” she began softly, earning her a hopeful glance from him. “If you’re not busy tomorrow, I thought you might want to get lunch or something?”
He smiled up at her but it was bittersweet in its corners. “I would love nothing more. Truly. But I have another job to get to. It’s a few hundred miles from here, so I have to get on the road soon.”
“Oh. Right. Sure.”
“However,” he said, sliding his phone across the table towards her. “If you give me your number, I’ll call you the next time I’m in the area.” Sincerity poured from his forget-me-nots depths as he declared, “I would very much like to see you again, Swan.”
Emma tried to smother a self-satisfied smile and picked up his phone from the table. “So you know my name and now you want my number, yet… I have no idea who you are.”
“Fair point,” he conceded on an amused breath. Standing from the booth, he pressed in close to where she stood and took her hand in his. “Killian Jones,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth and brushing a soft kiss to the backs of her knuckles. “At your service.”
With her lip caught between her teeth, Emma pulled her hand from his and punched her number into his phone before handing it back to him.
“One hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon to-go,” Granny announced from the counter, a taunting tone underpinning her words.
“Thanks, Granny,” Emma replied, ignoring the woman’s knowing expression as she took the cup and turned back towards the man, who she now knew to be Killian Jones.
“So…” she drew out in an effort to stall a bit longer. “Thank you for a most memorable evening.” Killian chuckled at that and the sound absolutely did not make her heart stutter. “And um, good luck on your next job.” Realization of what that next job might entail had her insides growing cold for a moment and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly, as she implored, “Please, be careful.”
Killian threaded his fingers between hers, entwining their hands and assuring her, “You don’t have to worry about me, love. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.”
The truth in his words did not give her much comfort. How many times had it been tested in order to be proven true thus far? Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Perhaps sensing her continued concern, he added, “I’ll be careful, Swan. I promise.”
Her back pocket began vibrating once more, a deluge of texts and calls from her friends, no doubt. The buzzing must have reached his ears.
“You should go, love. Don’t keep your friends worrying about you.”
“Right,” she said, forcing herself to take a step away from him. Then another. Then another. “See you around, Jones.”
“Count on it, Swan.”
~/~
One Year Later…
“What do you mean, we released a ghost when we uncovered that skeleton in the wall?”
“Exactly what I said, Neal! We’ve got an angry spirit in the house and we need someone to help us get rid of it.”
“Who the hell is gonna help us get rid of a ghost, Ems?”
With a long suffering sigh, Emma admitted, “I just might know a guy.”
Part Two - Coming Soon!
Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)
(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)
@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv
@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper
@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter
@winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling
@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook
@jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd
@pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie
@soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt
@natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur
@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed @bluewildcatfanatic @bananachickens
18 notes · View notes
leonstoenailunderhisbed · 7 months ago
Text
Insurgency: Utopia
Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?
Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.
Word count: 1,680
A/N: this is the last chapter. next chapter is just a bonus :) anyways guys I’m so glad next week is my last week of school. I’m tired of ts alr
[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]
“Accept suffering and achieve atonement through it - that is what you must do." - Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Days passed ever since the victory of Pruye. People began to work on the reconstruction of the fallen cities. People finally returned to their homes and it felt like a weight had been lifted off everyone’s shoulders. No more dictator, no more law.
Leon stayed in the base, sitting on a chair near your hospital bed as he waited for you to wake up. It’s been three days since you’ve been in the infirmary. Doctors and nurses would come in and check up on you, occasionally updating your charts.
He never left your side- only to use the restroom or get some food.
“Argh…” you groaned as you woke up, catching Leon’s attention. He quickly rested his hand on your shoulder, “Hey take it easy,” his voice soft and quiet.
You opened your eyes and met them adjust to the light, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You’ve been out for about three days…” he responded.
Your eyes widened at the revelation and then everything had started crashing down on you.
The battle.
The president.
Falling.
Blackness.
That was all you remembered. It didn’t take time for you to connect the dots.
You looked over at him, “Did we win?”
He took a deep breath and nodded, “You sure did.. President Mendez died and so did the soldiers.”
“So… it’s over? Everything is finally over?” You asked weakly.
Leon nodded once again and you sighed in relief.
Your efforts weren’t in vain. If someone were to ask the younger version of yourself that one day you’d lead a rebellion to victory, you’d probably laugh in their face.
But that was the truth. No matter what, you did this. You brought freedom to a land that had long forgotten what that felt like.
-
Recovery was easy. You stayed a few more days before you could get discharged. Leon and some insurgents would visit you and catch you up on things.
The cities had been rebuilt, there is no sole leader anymore. The country became an anarchy.
But that didn’t matter to you.
No one told you the effects of being a war veteran.
Nightmares kept you up, certain sounds made you remember those bloody days- it was true hell. You weren’t okay and maybe it was time to finally acknowledge that.
You found yourself on a building- a memorial building for the fallen insurgents and other victims from the battle.
The building contained the history of when everything first started to when things ended. As you walked through the halls, you saw objects laying around. The guns that were used, the uniforms from both sides. It felt like a museum more than a memorial but maybe that was just you.
Behind the building was a cemetery. You walked through the grass until you stopped in front of two gravestones.
Esme and Franco.
It felt weird standing in front of the remnants of your friends. It was like they were there but also weren’t.
Death was a real mystery. You rest but you leave behind pain to others. That’s such a cruel thing to do. Death was nothing near comfort. It was unfair and cruel. But there was nothing anyone can do. We all have a countdown to our death.
You could die in the next five minutes. Maybe tomorrow or maybe in ten years. No one knows but everyone knows that death is inevitable.
War messed up with your concept of death. Death was something to be meant with meaning. Something that was supposed to be relieving and beautiful. But now? Now you see it as punishment.
Life is sanctity. There is no reason why someone should take someone else’s life. It’s not just. It’s not right. But yet human kind still finds ways to bend the beauty of nature and contaminate everything with the greed for power.
As you stood in front of the gravestones, you felt bitter. Not at them for dying but for leaving you alone.
But it was not their fault. No ones at fault for dying and yet you couldn’t pin point the cause of your emotions. And what better way to feel better about yourself than projecting it into inanimate things? It’s not like Esme and Franco are coming back from the dead.
Because they won’t. They’re gone. Forever.
All they are now, are just fragments of memories and pieces of what was.
You didn’t cry, you couldn’t. Because if you did then it be confirmation that they were gone.
Their presence was gone. Their voices were gone. They no longer existed and that is a pain no one should go through.
Life is supposed to be a blessing but now it all felt like it was just a curse.
If there is a god then you’d understand why humans were cursed with such small lifespans. We are evil, even if we claim to be otherwise. No one is purely good, no one is innocent. We all bear the bearings of sin and evil.
Because you finally understood that the world is nothing like the novels. At all.
You walked up to Yarina’s grave. It was the biggest one with an Athena statue. Fitting, you thought.
No one is prepared for the death of someone. What are you supposed to do? Forget that your friend no longer exists within the same universe as you?
And yet you were. People move on and soon they’ll forget their dead friends, including you. It’s not bad, per say, but it’s saddening. To let go of the last piece you have of them- a memory.
A memory is what they became. A distant one because you wanted to forget everything already.
Esme, Franco, and Yarina… they’re all a distant fragment of the memories you tried to forget.
-
Leon had to go back to the U.S. and it made you sad. You were getting used to him.
The helicopter landed on the helipad, prompting Leon to get on it. But he stopped mid walk to look at you. He seemed hesitant.
“Come with me,” he blurted out.
“What?”
“Come with me. Live with me in America.”
Your mouth gaped open as you tried to speak but nothing came out. He walked up to you and held your hands in his, “C’mon Y/n… we both know you don’t want to be here anymore. Come back home with me. I’ll let you stay at my place until you settled in. I’ll show you around. We can build a new life together… away from all of this. Just you and me.”
You stared up at his blue eyes and nodded slowly, “Okay… I will.”
He smiled softly and leaned down to kiss you softly. You hummed in response and kissed him back, just a softly as well. He pulled back and interlocked his fingers with yours as you two walked towards the helicopter.
A new life. Away from Pruye. Away from the memories.
A new life with Leon, the man who understood you inside and out. He has you all figured out and he didn’t leave. He stayed. That was all you needed to follow him to his home country.
You didn’t care that you left all your belongings behind. It would only remind you of the constant pain. Plus, Leon offered that you two should go shopping and spend time like normal people.
Like a normal couple.
A normal life.
And you couldn’t agree more. Leon was the blessing in disguise that you needed. And you were his ray of hope at being normal.
Trauma bonding works wonders. You two can’t seem to let each other go as your bond grows deeper than anything else.
-
Once you reached the state of Pennsylvania, he called an Uber for the two of you.
Leon’s house was modest. Being an agent brought financial stability yet he was humble and didn’t want to splurge all his money- he was too busy fighting anyway.
His house was two stories but small in size. You can’t blame him, Pennsylvania has had some housing problems lately but that was not of your concerns. You just got here.
He refused to let you sleep on the couch so you reluctantly agreed to sleep with him on his bed.
Leon let you borrow some of his pajamas- sweatpants and a tee. They fit big on you but it was okay. Loose clothing was more comfortable to sleep in anyway.
He laid behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Your back was pressed against his chest and for once you felt like you could finally sleep without waking up from the nightmares.
Leon brought you comfort. Leon was comfort.
And you were his comfort too. Leon didn’t need help falling asleep, he’s been dealing with this way longer than you but you clearly needed someone to be there for you. And he wanted to be that person.
Leon may be sarcastic and cocky at times but he’s a dedicated man with a heart. He cares a lot and would do anything for the betterment of the world. He’d do anything for you.
The age gap wasn’t something you two seemed to mind. What you two felt was not superficial and it went beyond just dating. It was as if your souls found each other after traveling through space and time.
Home. It was as if your souls were finally home together.
-
Leon kept his promise and the next day he took you out to see the city. He took you to the mall, where he offered to pay for your new clothes. You two went to eat at his favorite restaurant, you two visited the park near a river- it felt like you could breathe again.
You were glad to be away from Pruye and everything that had happened.
Slowly but surely you began to get better, and Leon was there to support you. You rebuilt your life- got a job, decided to apply to school, got your citizenship thanks to Leon’s connections. Life was finally beginning to look amazing for you.
You and Leon made life amazing together.
29 notes · View notes
silentwillowwhisperer · 2 years ago
Text
Tattoo AU pt. 5
Hiii! I used a few curse words in this, if that bothers you. It's literally Keith's morning brain being too tired to pretend to have a filter.
Wait. Do they know each other's last names? Whatever it's fine.
Keith's messages are normal text
Lance's messages are bolded
--------------------------------------------
Saturday, May 5th 5:48 AM
Keith! Hi! Guess what? I have your number
5:56 AM
Are you ignoring me?? Gasp! Offence taken
2 missed calls from Unknown Number
6:07 AM
Keiiiith Buddy? My man? I thought we bonded the betrayal stings
Keith checks his phone.
He had just woken up at 10 AM for work like a normal person to find someone spamming him.
He stares at the screen. What are the chances that this is a serial killer trying to get information from him so that they can murder him in his sleep?
Pretty high.
But does his curiosity outweigh his caution? Yep.
Before he seals his fate, though, he texts Shiro.
Saturday, May 5th 10:37 AM
Hey If I die, I want you to know that I like you almost as much as Kosmo Make sure to have my gravestone include a reasonable amount of curse words I'm thinking something like, "This fucker was glad to go, the world can go to shit. Also, strawberries are superior. Later, bitches."
He ignores Shiro's frantic responses, and goes back to the unknown number's contact.
Saturday, May 5th 10:43 AM
Hi. If you're trying to kill me, please make it cool. I'd hate be they guy to die from food poisoning or some crap like that could you make it some kind of murder mystery? I've always wanted to be the subject of one of those
10:45 AM
Ummm What? Dude It's me. Lance. Why would you want to get murdered?? I just wanted to invite you to a picnic Me Hunk, and Pidge are going You know, the others from the day we met?
10:51 AM
Dammit Can you send me the address?
Keith drives into the parking lot of a picturesque park. It's well hidden from the road, so there's almost no one else there.
He pulls of his helmet and spend a minute smoothing down his hair. His dark locks are already an unruly mess, but the helmet makes it 10 times worse.
The second he looks up, he sees Lance waving wildly at him from across the lot. The guy jogs over with a grin.
"Hey! You're here! For a second I though you were just pretending to agree just to shut me up! You really aren't horrible, Kogane."
Keith doesn't tell Lance that he had been planning on doing exactly that.
The picnic blanket is red and checkered, as it should be. It is set up under a huge tree next to a lake. Keith can see Hunk and Pidge playing frisbee about 10 feet away from it, probably so that they don't accidentally hit the food.
He and Lance sit with their backs to the tree for at least 30 minutes.
It should be awkward, but it isn't. The wind blows through their hair and several birds fly past them. Neither of them says a word, but they can both fell the comfortable silence humming between them.
They'd never admit it, but they both fell the pang in their chests when Hunk jogs over for lunch.
The three of them are easily 5 times as talkative as Keith, but he doesn't mind. It's kind of nice to watch them converse as he eats his lunch.
No, he's not creepy, leave him alone.
Sometimes they'll ask him a question or send him a grin. They seem to catch on pretty fast that Keith isn't feeling left out, he's just quiet. He appreciates that, it always annoys him when people try to force him into a conversation.
They do learn a few things about him, like how he dropped out of high school at age 16, and then proceeded to attend art school for 4 years to get his degree.
After they finish, they run aimlessly around the park for a while. Sometimes they chase each other, and sometimes they just run side by side, but there are absolutely no rules.
Keith finds himself enjoying it. As much as he loves Shiro, he can be so uptight sometimes. The same goes for Allura. It's been a while since he's done anything just for the heck of it.
When he gets to the tattoo parlor later that day, he has a lightened step and even Kosmo picks up on his good mood.
Maybe he should hang out with these people more often.
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
35 notes · View notes
sammyloomis · 2 months ago
Note
ash you know i gotta get some snippets my guy 🌤️ and 🌧️ perhaps? for any project you're excited to talk about!!! :P
ohoho well, if its snippets you desire, then its snippets you shall recieve
🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.
PFF god, im realising how little dialogue i have written for anything right now fghj BUT heres something from an Extremely self indulgent crossover fic ive barely started i think u might find fun :]
Tara’s eyes flick to something just behind her which is about all the warning Ashley gets before a pair of hands drop onto her shoulders like sacks of flour and make an embarrassingly high yelp jump out of her throat. “Well, well, well,” Josh says, giving her shoulders a squeeze before dropping onto the bench beside her. “Surprised to see you out in the sunshine for once, Ash. You set off the smoke alarm in the dorms again?” If he was bothered by the glare she was firing his way, he didn’t show it, a familiar grin on his face that told her he was about to do everything in his power to embarrass her. “Oh, hi, Josh,” she monotones. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Please. Take a seat.” “I’m already sitting, you silly goose.” She watches him turn to Tara, flicking a thumb towards Ashley in a clear expression of ‘get a load of this guy’, and sighs. So much for first impressions.
🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.
ohh tee hee, this is from one im excited to get back to :]
As far as Tara knew, after Amber’s burnt and mangled body had been identified by her father, he’d had her quickly cremated and that was that. It was kind of ironic. She didn’t know where he’d scattered the ashes, if anywhere, or if the remains of the girl she once thought she’d spend the rest of her life with were crammed into a box in an overpriced urn, in the back of some moving van that was travelling farther and farther away from her. Or maybe he’d kept her close, in a locket or a ring, some capsule he could grab onto every now and again to remind himself of the daughter he had, once upon a time. Tara didn’t know. He’d never struck her as a sentimental man, Amber’s father, the few times she’d had a conversation with him that lasted longer than a few strained words as they both waited for Amber to get ready for whatever movie or concert or sleepover they were going to. He hadn’t been able to look her in the eye, that one visit he’d made to the hospital, no matter how hard she’d bored her own into the side of his head. Maybe, even then, he’d been wondering what to do about Amber’s body, already rotting in the morgue a few floors below. All of this to say, there was no gravestone for her to visit. No marker in the cemetery for her to kneel at and stare into the cold, compacted dirt like, if she tried hard enough, she could see past the mulch and the worms and the cedar and velvet and watch Amber essentially melt into the earth around her, like she’d wanted everyone to see. No, there was nothing. There was no memorial for her at school, no candles or yearbook photos or candid selfies next to Wes and Liv’s, no post-it’s stuck to her locker with kind words from people who pretended to have know her. Not even a mention in the obituaries, and Tara had been checking. It was almost like she’d never existed at all.
2 notes · View notes
randomwriteronline · 1 year ago
Text
Skull Kid dreams sometimes.
It's weird, because they don't usually do that.
Usually they dream of black nothingness that smells and sounds of nothing, and when they do dream it feels more like having nightmares even when they aren't necessarily scary, because the things they see hurt, hurt, hurt.
They dream of things that their friends' scents and warmth remind them of.
When they fall asleep sitting on Bird's shoulders they dream that he is taking them on a flight on his bird. They imagine it, all bright colors and wide wings, a long beak cutting through the clouds, eyes dark and beady; they feel the wind rushing across their face and its body, grasping gently at the hair soft like down feathers in which their nose digs deep, soft and shiny and velvety, making their hands slip away as soon as they lay on them. Bird is warm and soft, sitting behind them, and never lets them fall as they fly higher and farther.
When they fall asleep wrapped around Mouse they dream of the little helpful mice, of chasing them around together like cats, of being as tall as them and playing tag under the leaves and mushroom caps, of taking part in festivals and dancing with them. They imagine them differently in each dream, ears larger or smaller, snout longer or shorter, with the only consistent detail remaining the shape of their white and red feather tail - the same that hangs from Mouse's ear.
When they fall asleep against Cave's back they dream of dark, damp places, of long hallways and dry ground that turns humid as they walk deeper into the entrails of the earth. He holds their hand, and his palm feels fluttery, like lightning in the making, like little wings. When they feel the latter they let go hurriedly before it hurts too much; it feels like ferns when they hold it again, and that is much, much better. Being led through the dark feels safe, feels sweet, feels comforting. Cave hums as they go and the caves hum back.
When they fall asleep in Goats' arms they dream from the outside - they see themself, their body, as if it wasn't theirs. They dream of sleeping next to laying goats, or balls of hay, or inside a barn with a strong warm smell while the rain falls in long bead curtains outside. Sometimes Goats is there too, sitting with their head on his thigh, caressing it lightly with his large rough hands, muttering about how the rain isn't letting up in a low tone that feels like a lullaby, with a lone stalk of wheat hanging limply from his lip.
When they fall asleep on Moss they dream of a place overgrown with plants and ghosts talking about him, and they try to imagine them: one has big broad shoulders, another long gentle fingers; one a large proud mane, another strong stubby legs. Sometimes they dream of vast, endless fields. They don't like that. The tree is always in vast, endless fields. The child is always under the tree, in vast, endless fields. They don't want to play bad guys and good guys. They don't want to run. Moss wakes them up just enough to drag them away from there, like he can tell their fear.
When they fall asleep in Bell's grip they dream of a large calm graveyard with bluebells and sweet peas. The gravestones are old and green, shaped like the sorts of canopies that shield cradles; the ground before them is dug into beds, a thousand beds, with each with a kid sleeping soundly. They make their rounds to check on them, make sure they're napping safely, with a strange kind of peace. They know who they are. It's a happy dream, somehow. Maybe it will be okay when they're awake too. Not now. Later. One day.
When they fall asleep next to Gold they dream strangely, with colors flowing out of rabbit burrows like fabric bursting from a box, with shouts of warm bright lava and an orchestra swinging, robes and mermaids singing together. Gold comes to drag them somewhere a little quieter, and they know it's Gold because who else would it be? He indulges them in their dreams: he plays with them and dances with them and helps them navigate through it all, and guides them into sleep within sleep, to get some proper rest.
When they fall asleep near Sea they dream of titanic hands gently cupping around them to make pools of saltwater that they lift a little over the surface of the ocean and then slowly letting it all drain from between enormous fingers, watching them slip through with happy shrieks, and it hurts so much that sometimes it makes them wake up and stay awake for hours on end. So when they feel the water enveloping them they force themself to dream of Sea, of his face and body and voice, of him teaching them to swim; they dream of grabbing his head and hair and kissing him in a way they can't quite describe right there, in the middle of the ocean, holding him as tight as they can, letting him breathe through their mouth when the waves wash over his face to drown him; they dream of laying down with him somewhere on the sand under a tree with large leaves, while the water keeps lapping at their legs in gentle motions, and they hold his hand while he sleeps as he caresses their fingers with his thumb.
When they fall asleep embraced by their friend they force themself to dream from the outside. They force their dreams to be a colorful nothing that smells and sounds like their friend asleep. They have to, because if they don't then they'll dream of their friend as he was: as tall as them, with a sweet smile, with two bright blue eyes so sad and quiet, with two small scarred hands of pale dirty pink so very rough and so very kind.
They cry, when they dream of their friend as he was; they cry like they're dying, like they're being burned. He kisses their mouth and thumbs their tears away slowly as they fall without rest, one after the other, sliding down their cheeks with all the bitter sadness in the world as they look at their friend as he was and ask sobbing quietly, why can't it be like this? Why can't it be like this again? Why can't it be like this anymore? Why can't I have this anymore? They kiss their friend as he once was kindly in their dreams, they kiss his mouth when they manage to stop crying long enough, and they hide their head in his arms because they know they can't do this anymore.
They watch him grow before their eyes, they watch him change until he's become completely unrecognizable, until he's taller, until he's older, until he's grown far too much to not appear so horribly frightening. He kisses their temple with all the love in the world, but it's not the love they miss so much, and they retreat in his chest, deeper, deeper, blindly searching for their friend as he was. His voice as it was reaches them with all the sweetness in the world, enveloping them like a feather mantle, and whispers over and over: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Sometimes it hurts to wake up and hear his kind voice call them Sweet-heart-that-you-are in a way and tone that is so completely, utterly different from how it used to be, from how they so badly miss, from how they would love to hear again. Sometimes it makes them want to cry, or stop talking forever. Sometimes it makes them want to run as far away as possible, into the darkness.
Eyes and ears have betrayed them enough for them to know that one can only trust the smells.
So they dream from the outside, wrapped around their friend who looks nothing like he used to but is still undoubtedly himself; they dream of sleeping in his embrace somewhere bright and quiet, familiar, with a sweet scent that slowly combs through the feathers they no longer have.
12 notes · View notes
krash-and-co · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
I posted 446 times in 2022
That's 446 more posts than 2021! Because I did not have this blog then! If I posted last year that would be scary!
99 posts created (22%)
347 posts reblogged (78%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lejay-the-impossible
@l-carlyle
@noger-vincent
@sn0rt1ngsl1ckl1ck (if you're reading this scim.... hi.)
@george-the-pumpkin
I tagged 250 of my posts in 2022
Only 44% of my posts had no tags
#lockwood and co - 159 posts (shocker)
#lockwood & co - 80 posts
#anthony lockwood - 61 posts
#lockwood and co netflix - 60 posts
#lucy carlyle - 57 posts
#george cubbins - 47 posts
#l&co - 45 posts
#holly munro - 43 posts
#quill kipps - 41 posts
#lockwood and co show - 20 posts
Longest Tag: 138 characters
#i'll be kinda embarrassed if they still don't but you know. honestly maybe they'd just look like they're going to and then get interrupted
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
so... I guess you could say our fandom... isn't dead anymo- *gets beaten up*
72 notes - Posted October 26, 2022
#4
Lockwood And Co Netflix but they have no budget and all the effects and props are really bad
consider:
~~~
Cameron Chapman: *sticks hand into bucket of blue paint* oh NO I've been GHOST TOUCHED
~~~
Ruby Stokes: would it kill you to make a less grousome face for once, Skull?! [the camera turns to show a Cheese Balls jar with a plastic skull evidently hot glued to the bottom. It is not making a face. It is doing absolutely nothing. It still has the price sticker stuck to the forehead and the nutrition facts on the lid.]
~~~
Ruby Stokes, tearfully: look what they've done to George...
*Ali Hadji-Heshmati lies in bed wrapped in toilet paper*
~~~
[Cameron and Ruby are at the graveyard]
Cameron: sometimes I go here when I'm feeling- *the styrofoam gravestone he's sitting on suddenly crunches in and he falls backwards*
behind camera: DAMNIT LOCKWOOD-
*Cameron kicks the camera by accident and the screen cuts out*
~~~
Ali: so I was testing how the Skull reacted to extreme heat and I-
Ali:
Ali: *checks the oven*
Ali: guys it's melting
~~~
actually this would be horrible please do not consider this Netflix.
88 notes - Posted October 14, 2022
#3
ANTHONY LOCKWOOD CANONICALLY GOES NONVERBAL WHEN HE'S DISTRESSED OVERWHELMED OR THINKING HARD AND IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-
101 notes - Posted October 2, 2022
#2
Tumblr media
so I paused the trailer at just the right time and now I think we have a lockwood and co version of an iconic meme
133 notes - Posted October 29, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
well I'm still crying about how Cameron Chapman captured lockwood perfectly in that 1 min clip idk about you guys. instead of throwing the bomb he slashes it. he does a bunch of unnecessary moves with his rapier that the only use for is looking cool. he occasionally looks at Lucy, who has been screaming for him for the past minute, but does not answer until he grabbed her. he runs himself into a wall. he did it all in a suit. I love him he's perfect
169 notes - Posted October 26, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
In conclusion, I am a loser and all my posts are stupid! :) which is the goal obviously
6 notes · View notes
ems-self-ships-galore · 1 year ago
Text
Night One - Arrival
Tumblr media
Ren and Hisoka initially thought that this family business that Luna had to take care of wouldn't take long, Luna thought that as well, but it appears that it was not the case.
"How long will this take, mom?"
"Just give it a few days or so, Luna."
And that led to the trio here, on their way to a place only referred to as The Old Treadwell House; with Hisoka asleep in the backseat, Ren in the front passenger side reading some random collection of ghost stories, and Luna in the driver's seat. All seemed to go well so far, if only Ren and Hisoka knew what they were getting themselves into. Telling tall tales of her family and the like was something Luna never enjoyed, as given by her currently silent demeanor. Luna did however mention earlier, how she had only visited this place once, when she was just a little girl; but that was that, and now Luna only had her vivid memories of the place itself.
It did not take long for them to arrive at the house, Luna parking the car in the driveway.
"For a place so old, it sure looks new." Ren pointed out as he gazed out the window and up towards the house's front exterior. That was another thing Luna had mentioned earlier also, the old Treadwell house was built in the early 1800s with it's exact built date unknown to her and her family alone. A rather pivotal point that Ren took note of was how Luna's intermediate family just generally wanted nothing to do with the house in question, so it was mostly left up to the extended family in case such highly required needs should occur; now not everyone in the Treadwell family wanted to deal with the place, so that's why it was left up to Luna in the first place. "Some relatives tried to keep the original appearance of the place up, but some areas failed so upgrades had to be made." Luna explained. Something was telling Ren that Luna did not want to be here.
"Let's head inside..Hisoka, time to get up sleepyhead." Luna stated as she got out of the car, Hisoka promptly waking up via her command. Ren and Hisoka followed suit, taking a few seconds to check out the grounds that the house sat on; all seemed normal to them, typical foliage and the like. But the unsettling presence of two graves located back where the shed was seemed to intrigue Hisoka and Ren, prompting the two to take a glance at them.
Ophelia Treadwell nee Wright
Born 8 March 1792
Died 7 August 1889
"I wonder who this Ophelia is," Hisoka stated. "Most likely a relative of Luna's, nothing too important." Ren stated, looking over at the second gravestone laying next to Ophelia's. Hisoka did the same.
Luellen Treadwell
Loved by those she knew best, yet she kept multiple lovers at her hand
"This Luellen seems familiar to Luna," Ren pointed out as he walked back to the house, Hisoka followed behind. "Oh please, that "kept multiple lovers at her hand" line in Luellen's epitaph can mean just about anything." Hisoka retorted. "No no, it means exactly what it means. Luellen was in an ethical relationship with multiple people probably during a time where even polite society would turn their noses up at such a thing, Luna is dating us; probably this is just coincidence," Ren pointed out, walking into the house and into the living room. "That is the most outlandish statement I've heard, but I'll take your word for it." Hisoka stated, sitting on an old lounge chair located next to a fireplace that did not look safe to use.
"What are you guys talking about?" Luna wondered, walking into the living room and taking Ren and Hisoka by surprise. "Stuff," Hisoka said, but Ren was quick with an honest answer. "Those two graves out by the shed. How come they're not in a cemetery?" He asked. Hisoka looked taken aback by this, even shooting Ren a glare that Luna was quick to defuse. "My great-grandparents and beyond were generally buried on their property at the times of their deaths. It all ended when my grandparents kicked the bucket, that my parents and the rest of my family decided on no more at home burials." Luna explained. "Anyways, our work on sorting through and packing shit up starts tomorrow." She added. "Oh is that why your other relatives bailed on this place?" Ren asked.
"It wasn't about the workload, it was about this place itself. The entirety of this house gave my relatives such an unsettling feeling that now, they want nothing do with it. My aunt has gone on record to state that "this house comes alive when there are people in it." Luna stated. Hisoka and Ren shot each other a glance, causing Luna to get confused at their behavior. "Is there something going on that I should know about?" Luna asked.
"No," Ren and Hisoka said in unison. They were lying, scheming of a way to bring some stuff up to Luna lest she be more open to talk about certain things. But right now she wasn't and Ren was already noticing how Luna was more secretive than usual. Luna left the living room and wandered off to another place in the house, presumably upstairs, leaving Ren and Hisoka alone in the living room again. "What the hell does she mean, "this house comes alive when there are people in it?" is this another haunted location?" Hisoka asked.
"With the way she phrased it, most likely. Luckily I brought the camera," Ren stated. "The question is, how many ghosts could be lurking in this house and what kind." He added. "If my shadow reading abilities serve me right, not a lot of ghosts can be found here. In fact, I think we should give this place a few more days at most, the activity here is way too slow." Hisoka pointed out, walking out of the living room and heading upstairs where she assumed Luna would be.
Then Ren was left alone in the ornate living room. It's picturesque appearance was one of the kinds of looks anyone would find in your average house belonging to some elder relative. Taking some time to glance around the interior scenery, Ren took notice of two photographs laying atop the mantel; the left photo was of a man, a scorn look on his face only simplified by his elder age and in the right photo was of a woman, still old yet she looked rather calm in contrast to the man on the left. Below the photographs were the engraved names.
Harrison Treadwell
Ophelia Treadwell
Ophelia. There was that name again. Taking note of what he read on Ophelia's gravestone earlier, Ren could only safely assume that Ophelia and this Harrison were married in life; now they were long gone. The only thing was that struck Ren as confused was, why was Ophelia not buried next to her husband? Ren had yet to determine that out. When he realized that he could not get much from just simple photographs, Ren put the photos back on the mantel, and decided to head upstairs. Before retreating off to Luna, Ren paid Hisoka a visit in her room.
"Hisoka, I found something on the fireplace mantel just not too long ago." He stated. "What did you find, researcher boy?" Hisoka inquired, settling into bed. "I told you not to call me that. Just two old pictures, one of Ophelia and the other of who could I only assume is was her husband." Ren explained. Hisoka seemed rather impressed with Ren's discovery. "Well that's just delightful, now you know what Ophelia looks like." Hisoka stated, Ren rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, they sure were old alright." Ren said, Hisoka chuckled at this in response. "How old are we talking here?" She asked. "Haggish? Rotting skin? What kind of old?" She added.
"Wrinkles and all,"
"Did you notice any expressions?" Hisoka asked. Ren pondered for a few seconds, then said, "The husband, or Harrison as per what his engraving said, looked rather pissed off. Whereas Ophelia just looked calm and cordial; such a rather noticing contradicting in expressions, methinks."
"Well, let's talk more about this tomorrow; now fuck off," Hisoka jokingly stated as Ren walked out of her room and into his and Luna's. After not seeing Luna in bed, Ren noticed that she was in the adjoined bathroom, thanks to seeing that the light in that room was on from underneath the door. Opening the bathroom door, Ren saw Luna getting ready for bed; dressed and all. "Evening, handsome." She greeted Ren, beckoning him inside. "Evening," Ren audibly mumbled; he took a few seconds to take off his shirt and whatnot, only dressing himself sleeping pants. Thinking that was all he needed to do, Ren walked out of the bathroom, up until Luna stopped him.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Luna asked. Ren was sure that there was nothing else he needed to do before he retired to bed, then it hit him; so he walked back into the bathroom and applied some type of face lotion on his chin and the surrounding area. "I still wonder when I'm gonna stop taking this stuff, it's too cold on my face." He stated, rubbing the lotion into his skin. "You could've just shaved," Luna pointed out.
"No no, I am not dealing with ingrown hairs and having you pluck them out afterwards. Besides, you know why I had to wax the area under my chin; the hairs that were once there were making me look like a neckbeard so waxing it was," Ren explained. "That and the hairs were really getting to me," He added. "There's the Ren I know, c'mon let's get into bed." Luna stated, turning off the overhead light and walking out of the bathroom, only to be followed by Ren who immediately swooped her up in his arms and gently threw her on the bed.
"So Luna, if you had a choice-" Ren began to say as he got on top of Luna, she scoffed in response because she knew how this question was going to end for her; and most likely as per how Ren generally acted when he wasn't doing something really important, i.e. writing, it was going to be something horribly cursed. "-Where on my body would you wax me next?" He added. "This waxing stuff again? Ren, we've already talked about this." Luna pointed out. "We didn't talk about it enough so, where would you wax me?" Ren asked again. "Your legs," Luna guessed, but this did easily sway Ren's opinion to a rather suitable one for his tastes. "Oh please, waxing my leg hair so boring and overdone. Gotta pick something interesting," Ren stated.
"How about your armpit hair? Who knows how long you've let it accumulate," Luna guessed yet again, although this time she said like it was a mere suggestion. "Oh come on, I do not have French style armpit bushes on me." Ren reminded Luna, who giggled at his words in response. Ren then got off of Luna, laying down in bed underneath the covers and right next to Luna, just how he liked it.
"Hey Ren, did you notice if the two gravestones out by the shed had any writing?" Luna asked, right as she turned out the bedside light. "No, why?" Ren lied, he knew it was risky move to lie to Luna like this, especially with how suspicious of him she sort of got. "Just wondering, you and Hisoka have been acting weird since we got here and I'm little worried." Luna pointed out. "Don't worry about it, pumpkin. If you're that worried over small things such as two oddly placed gravestones we can talk about it tomorrow," Ren assured Luna; she wanted to pry into Ren a little more, but decided not to.
"Besides, don't worry your pretty little head about such spooky things- tomorrow, we can all get our work done and we'll be out of this house like nothing ever happened." Ren stated, taking Luna in his arms right as he began to fall asleep. "If you say so," Luna said as she also began to fall asleep.
0 notes
aurora-ze-aquarius · 2 years ago
Text
Rookie swap au oneshot, ft. Sam
⚠️⚠️//Absent fathers/Mentions of Neglect
Tumblr media
Why don't you celebrate Fathers Day?
Those words hit him like a semi truck speeding by, unable to stop seeing the deer on the road. Jackson turned back to the little girl, who stared up at him with curious eyes. He felt a cold sweat, but acted calm and collected.
He was told by Sally that Lightning had gone and left earlier that morning to visit the graveyard. Their daughter Sam overheard the conversation and asked to come with him to go check up on Lightning.
Their walk was mostly quiet, with the occasional small talk here and there. Then, she brought up the date today, with Jackson accidently mentioning how he doesn't celebrate Fathers Day. He knew she didn't mean to, she was only a child, but her question made Jackson swallow a gulp.
"What do you mean?" He asked appearing nonchalantly, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Sam shrugged, letting out a small hum.
"Well, on Fathers Day, everyone's doing something special for their dad. Like like- Uncle Ramone and Auntie Flo have special Fathers Day stuff. Uncle Guido and Uncle Luigi like to send gifts and letters to their papas. Granpappy and Grandmommy are coming to have dinner with us later. And then, I made something for Papa. And Papa is visiting Granddad right now!" She smiled, holding onto her basket full of treats. Jackson nodded, yet kept silent, preferring to listen to her rambles instead. Though, Sam turned back to him, tilting her head.
"What about you? Do you have something special to give your dad?"
"Uh." He didn't. He had no reason to after all. The old man practically disowned him once he dropped out of college to pursue racing, and hasn't bothered to contact him since. Even then, the gifts Jackson had given to him were most likely just sitting in cardboard boxes in one of their many mansions somewhere, collecting dust and spiderwebs.
Though, he did have something in his pocket he's been itching to give to someone, he just didn't have the time to. But, why would he give it to him though? After all, he's already someone else's dad. And, would he even return the sentiment..?
"Jackson? Sam?" They both looked up and saw Lightning, who sat right by a gravestone. The plaque read the name 'Jesse Paul Hudson'.
'Oh. We're here now.'
"Papa!" Sam ran over to her dad, throwing her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Happy Fathers Day!"
"Hey kiddo!" Lightning laughed, glad to see his daughter make it here. Sam pulled away and set the basket down. She fished out a bouquet of flowers and set it down Doc's grave.
"Happy Fathers Day too, Granddad!"
Of course, Doc couldn't answer, but Lightning knows his ghost is smiling down upon the little girl. At least, he believes so.
"I made this for you too, Papa!" Sam grinned, handing him an envelope. Lightning opened it up, finding a messy drawing of the piston cup, but instead of the usual text, it read '#1 Dad ever!!!' instead.
Lightning let out an audible 'aww' and pulled his daughter into a hug. "I love it. Thank you, Sam."
A small smile appeared on Jackson's lips, though conflicting emotions clashed in his head as he watched the two. Lightning and Sam let go of the hug, as the former turned back to Jackson, who lingered just a bit away.
"So, uh, Jackson. Were you looking for me to train with? I'm sorry. I have other plans for today."
Jackson waved a hand dismissively. "Eh, it's fine, Champ. I just don't have anything else to do. " he bit his lip, glancing away. He wasn't sure if he was welcomed here. "I uh, I could go if you want. Yanno, leave you guys to do your stuff..."
Lightning shook his head, "It's fine. Take a seat. We could talk about stuff you could work on if you'd like." He gestured to the spot next to him, patting the delicate patch of grass.
So Jackson decided to stay with them. It was strange. He believed Lightning just invited him to stay because he felt bad for the guy, but Jackson enjoyed this company. Really, he wished he had these kinds of lax conversations with his old man growing up.
At first, they talked about strategies and plans for the next race, improvements Jackson could make, but then it evolved into Lightning's relationship with Doc. How he missed him, and hope he's doing him proud.
"He was like a dad to me. He was there when mine couldn't be..." Lightning sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
Jackson hummed, finding himself nodding along. "...yeah. I get what you mean."
Lightning turned to him, taking notice of that solemn look upon Jackson's face. It was a look Lightning was oh so familiar with. The look of yearning for approval, wanting to please someone but never felt good enough.
His attention was promptly stolen by Sam, who tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. "Papa, what do you mean your dad wasn't there for you?" She asked.
"Well sweetie, there are times where the dad who brought you into this world can't look after you as best they could... And sometimes, you look towards someone else to well, basically be your dad in his place."
Lightning noticed that sudden look of concern from his daughter. "But! I'd never leave you the way my dad left me." He glanced towards Jackson, adding, "I promised myself I'd never make that mistake. I won't let either of you down..." He pulled Sam into a hug, the little girl practically clinging onto him. Jackson felt stunned.
Those words... 'Either of them'... Was he talking about Sam and Doc? Or was he talking about...
Jackson was pulled from his thoughts when he saw the two of them standing up. "Alright. I think it's time we headed back." He picked up his daughter, who giggled as she was placed upon his shoulders. "Jackson, could you get the basket?"
Jackson nodded, stretching his legs as he stood up and picked up their things. The three walked back towards town, down the dusty trail.
"Hey Jackson."
"Mhm..?"
Lightning gave him a soft smile, uttering the words Jackson never thought he'd ever hear. "I'm proud of you, kid."
Jackson felt a pang in his heart. He felt shaken, wanting to cry. But he didn't, and instead, rolled his eyes, fishing out a small blue envelope from his pocket. He handed it over to Lightning, not meeting his eyes.
"Happy Fathers Day, McQueen..." He said, his cheeks coated in a faint red from embarresment.
Lightning's eyes lit up in surprise, but surprise turned to happiness, and honestly, a sense of pride.
In many ways, McQueen hopes he continues to make Doc proud. Whether it be through racing, through taking care of his family, and now, he hopes he does him well looking after the rookie the same way Doc did for him.
49 notes · View notes
violettelueur · 4 years ago
Text
— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIX || AFTER RAIN
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen
↳ warnings : mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues
↳ form : story
↳ published : 25 february
↳ pronouns : she/her
↳ word count : 2.6k
↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....
↳ previous episode : curse womb must die II
↳ next episode : assault 
↳ barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ let me admit, i have no idea how to write the next episode since you don’t see anyone in them except for gojo and itadori (domain expansion episode) ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ so i might have to improvise something now...BUT there’s nothing much happening in this episode, so i hope you still enjoy it even when there is no action or anything interesting going on ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆
Tumblr media
BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:
1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only
2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter
2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique 
no cursed spells used this episode...
3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing
Tumblr media
“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.
Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.
“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.
“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.
“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.
“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.
“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.
“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.
Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.
‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’
                                                   ꕥ
“You’re late, Megumi,” Zenin obviously mentioned, as her head was turned with what seemed like to be a wooden combat pole in her hand as it casually leaned against her shoulder.
“Kelp,” Inumaki stated, as he was sitting on the ground, also having his head turned to look at the Shikigami user, ignoring what seemed to be a race between Kugisaki and Panda going on behind him.
“What were you doing?” Maki asked curiously, as Fushiguro made his way down the stone steps towards his upperclassman while zipping up his blue track top.
“What does it matter?” Fushiguro then questioned, not giving the weapon-wielder sorcerer a clear answer since he thought there was no need sharing the fact that he went to visit the mother of the man (that Itadori want to save) that had been killed by the special-grade curse back at Eushi Detention Centre to pay his condolences.
“Zenin-senpai...what kinds of people do you want to save as a jujutsu sorcerer?” Fushiguro queried, as he processed to stare down upon the ground trying to hide his emotions to compose his stoic nature, causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn her head once again to look at the other student.
“Huh? It’s not like I care if my actions save anyone,” Zenin answered in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Fushiguro to look to the side with an ‘I’m done’ expression.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Fushiguro muttered in a lowered tone, leading Zenin to instantly become annoyed as she eyed at the erratic-haired boy with instant irritations in her eyes as well as expression.
Suddenly…
“FUSHIGURO! Quit asking interview prep questions! Switch with me! I’m sick of these school uniforms! Let me go buy some cute tracksuits!” Kugisaki shouted in a fit of rage, as she was strangely spun around in a dizzy circle like she was at a funfair circus as a clueless gymnast before being thrown in the air by Panda.
“What are those two doing?” Fushiguro confusingly asked as he watched the amusing sight process while his classmate landed on the floor.
“Falling practice!” Panda announced as he pointed his finger in the air like what he was doing was obviously.
“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated as if to confirm Panda’s answer, as he too looked at the ridiculous scene.
“You’re both weak in close quarters, after all,” Panda stated, as he informed his younger classmen on why what he was doing, made sense to the training that he had planned.
“By the way, where is Y/N? She was with you when you both left to do whatever you were doing,” Zenin questioned, as she looked around the area behind her to see if you were there since she did miss your presence the last time you both met.
“She said she needed to go somewhere important, but will be back as quick as possible,” Fushiguro recalled, as he remembers after you both met with Tadashi’s mother, you informed him that you had to go somewhere for the time being, but didn’t tell him where you were exactly heading off to.
“That’s fine, I guess,” Maki replied back as she processed to swing around the wooden pole she had in her hand with such grace and accuracy before continuing with, “if what that idiot Gojo said to us about her is true, she could beat all of us in an instant, she’ll probably be perfect in the individual’s battle,”.
“Okay, land a blow on us,” Zenin stated, with her palm out, as if inviting Fushiguro to attack her.
                                                ꕥ
“I’m here, mother”
As of right now, you were holding a small bouquet of a beautiful arrangement of blue hydrangeas paired with white roses with some incense sticks in one hand, while the other was holding a wooden tub filled with water with a wooden ladle as well as a plastic white bag with items you quickly brought from the corner store causing you to quickly place your items down before leaving the delicate bouquet in a safe area.
Digging through the white plastic bag, you pulled out a cloth before removing the stubborn tags that refused to be taken off as you processed to soak the material before beginning to wipe down the marble gravestone that towered you as your crouched down before cleaning the vase that you had also brought from the corner store - yet you were surprised at the fact there were no weeds to be pulled.
After you had quickly clean the gravestone, you picked up the incense sticks in their rightful holder before lighting them up with a match (that you also brought from the store) before carefully removing the paper that held the flowers to gently place the floral plants in the same neat arrangement in the now cleaned vase.
Making sure the china vase was placed in the middle, you grabbed the wooden ladle that was in the wooden bucket, making sure it had enough water before standing back up on your feet to pour the clear liquid over the grave as you then placed the ladle back into the bucket.
Placing your hands together in prayer, before internally thanking your mother for protecting you as well as expressing your gratitude for her.
“They’re your favourite flowers right?” you gently asked, as you stared down at the flowers that were beautifully sitting in the vase. “Those were really expensive you know, I wonder how you were able to buy them so often without any regrets,” you muttered with a small smile before crouching back down as if you were going to look eye to eye with the gravestone like your mother was going to be sitting in front of you.
“I've been found…but...I wasn’t as bad as I suspected, the people at Jujutsu Tech are such drags but they’re really nice people,” you expressed, as you continued with, “I’m sorry I took so long to visit, you know Sendai to Tyoko is a really long journey, technically that’s both our faults since we agreed that we wanted to rest in Tokyo if we did pass,”.
Looking at the marble stone in front of you, you could see the thin smoke of incense that was slowly swirling into the air, as if it was trying to hypnotise you with its graceful movements. However, even though you knew you had to get back to Jujutsu Tech as quick as you could, you couldn’t help but utter a few more words to your late mother.
“I miss you mum”
                                                ꕥ
“Ah- am I late?”
At this current moment in time, it seemed like training had taken a pause since everyone was seated somewhere close to the stone stairs that lead the way down to the track field.
“Where were you? I needed you to train Megumi more,” Zenin asked, as you carefully made your way down the stairs with another white plastic bag in hand before making your way to your upperclassmen with one hand holding each handle, leaving an opening that was large enough to let her have a view on the contents inside.
“Sorry, I was visiting someone, but I got you guys some refreshments since I know you all were going to be tired by the time I came. Oh! The orange juice is mine by the way,” you mentioned, as you swiftly grabbed the orange carton from the bag as if someone was going to steal it if you didn’t.
Smiling at you, Zenin leaned away from the tree bark to see what she could choose from the bag, before reaching in, to grab that bottle of water as her choice before you processed to hold the bag around for everyone to get a pick on what beverage they wanted before you took a seat on the steps between Fushiguro and Inuamki.
“Where’s Kugisaki?” you asked in curiosity, as you looked around the fielded area only to not find your classmate leading Fushiguro to explain to you that she went out to buy a tracksuit since she didn’t have one, causing you to realise that you probably needed to change later but for now, you didn’t find being in your school uniform since the slit on the side of your long skirt, made it easier to move as well as deal with the warm environment that was coming in for the season at the moment.
“Gojo, your katana is a cursed weapon right?” Fushiguro asked, causing you to look at him weirdly after stabbing the straw into the carton before giving him a nod as a way to reply to his question.
“I agreed with the others that supplementing my close combat with weapons is the best choice right now, but with my cursed technique, I want to be able to free both hands at any time, with katanas, you lose time sheathing them,” Fushiguro explained, as he placed the pads of his fingers together while looking down at them.
“How do you carry your weapon when your cursed technique is used by your hands as well, also how did you manage to hide the chain attached at the end?” Fushiguro asked as he looked up at you, only to be surprised when he saw you looking at him with an annoyed expression.
‘That’s one way to somewhat expose me, I guess’
“I can utilise my technique by using only one hand, although there are times when I have to use both hands like you. However, I rarely unsheathe my katana, so it usually hangs on my back,” you described, causing Fushiguro’s to concentrate on you, trying to understand your technique since it seemed more complicated then you made it look at your battle with Sukuna.
“About the chain, the red charm cancels the chain being constructed since it will use my cursed energy, not a lot for me, but it’s a drag since I need the extra bit. When the charm is off, I use my curse energy to conceal before clicking my fingers to reveal it, if I want to, and when I use two hands, I can use the chain to pull it back,” you explained, causing the second-years to be surprised at the amount of cursed energy you have to use to employ such a simple weapon - maybe it wasn’t as simple as they intentionally thought.
“How much cursed energy do you possess, Y/N?” Panda asked as he placed his paw on his chin in a thinking posture, only for Fushiguro to answer the question.
“She has a lot more than she is showing right now, I don’t know how but she can hide it,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to smack the back of his head before placing the neglected straw back to your lips since you were desperately craving the citrus content that was in the carton.
“Zenin-senpai, you often carry more than two around with you, right? How do you do that?” Fushiguro queried as he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain you had given him.
“I made Panda carry them,” Zenin answered, as she pointed at the classmate leading to the animal sorcerer to proudly show off his muscles as if to inform you and Fushiguro on how strong he was.
“I shouldn’t have asked, part two,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, causing you to giggle internally at the statement as you wondered what he must have asked the first time since ‘part two’ was in the sentence.
“Some sorcerers keep cursed spirits that can store and retrieve objects,” Panda presented a well-thought idea, even though there was a disadvantage to that.
“He can’t do that. It’s a rare thing and it takes time to tame them, as well. But if you find any, let me know,” Zenin countered, before Panda replied for the payment he wanted if he ever finds a curse for her, causing you to zone out from the conversation as you processed to stare down at the step before you, that was slightly darkened by the shade of your shadow.
In curiosity, you took a side glance at your classmate only to notice that he was in deep thought, leaving you to figure something out for him while he thought of his own solution.
‘His shikigami uses shadows for a medium, then if that is the case…’
Using your hand that was occupied with your orange juice, you leaned forwards slightly, letting the tips of your fingers touch the stone step below you while making them land in the middle of your shadow.
“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.
‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’
“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”
‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were. 
‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’
Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.
“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.
“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.
“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated with a rare smile, before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.
‘Such intellect…’
Tumblr media
© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost
776 notes · View notes
andreafmn · 4 years ago
Text
I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1
Tumblr media
Word Count: 3,325
Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore
Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.
*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.
Chapter: 1/?
Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.
A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.
Next ->
Chapter 1
I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.
I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.
"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.
"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.
That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.
I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.
"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.
"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?
"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."
"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.
"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.
"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.
"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.
"And why the hell should that matter?"
"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."
"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."
"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.
"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"
"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."
"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."
"So, you admit that you hit me?"
"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."
"Yeah, yeah."
I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.
"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"
"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.
"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."
"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.
"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."
"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."
"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?
"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.
We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.
"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."
Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.
"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.
"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?
"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.
"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.
"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.
"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.
"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.
"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."
"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.
"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.
Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.
"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.
"Um, chemistry."
"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.
Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.
"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.
"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.
"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"
"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."
"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."
"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."
"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."
"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."
"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."
After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.
As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.
But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.
At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.
"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.
"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.
"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"
"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.
"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."
"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.
The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.
"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.
"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."
Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.
"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.
My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.
I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"
He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.
"Trespassing again?"
"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.
"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."
"Maybe." He grinned.
Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"
"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."
"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."
"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."
"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.
"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.
"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."
"No worries, maybe another time."
"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."
"Okay, goodnight."
"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.
"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.
"Yeah!" I screamed back.
"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."
I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.
After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."
"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.
"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.
"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.
"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."
"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.
The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.
"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.
"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.
"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.
"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.
"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."
"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.
Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?
Next ->
528 notes · View notes
Text
Survival of the Fittest 3
Driven by my other desire that wasn't revenge, I found myself leaving my apartment and heading to one of two places that Sven could be at this time. I checked his family's lumber business first by driving by but I didn't see him. With that option out of the way I made a beeline to the cemetery. I didn't see him there either save for a figure hunched over my grave in clothes caked in dirt.
Wait a minute.
I parked the car and got out to start heading over, making sure to be as quiet as possible. To my horror I realized the dirty figure was Sven. He even radiated a pungent odor that made me cringe automatically, but my love for him is greater than any neglect-driven smell. I just watched him silently weeping, hugging my gravestone with the very faint sentence of "please come back" repeating over and over.
"Sven. I'm here." I spoke out, using my voice.
Sven stopped and raised his head slowly. "That couldn't be real. I must be hallucinating."
"No. I'm here. Turn around."
Sven did exactly that before jumping at the sight of Devin's hulking figure looking down on him.
"Jesus fuck, dude. Could you leave your homophobic bullshit at the door for one day-"
"Sven, it's me. I'm in Devin's body now."
His eyes went wide.
"How did you do that? Please stop joking-"
"When I asked you out in college I fumbled on my words and ended up spilling coffee on myself when I faceplanted the exit door. Your favorite color is cerulean. You drool sometimes in your sleep and try to wake up before me to wipe off any traces so you can keep the cool guy appearance."
Before I can continue, Sven clung onto me, sobbing into my shirt with arms wrapping tight around me. "Benji! It really is you!"
I immediately hugged him back, letting him cry until he calmed down enough. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."
We drove back to my place in silence. No doubt he was trying to process the fact my brother's homophobic friend was possessed by me. It's understandable, really. I'd be the same to if the situation was flipped. Once we got there and he showered, I made some coffee for him and waited for him at the table.
"I can't find my clothes."
"Im washing them for you. Why were you covered in dirt?"
Sven sat down and took a sip of his coffee before letting out a hollow laugh. "It really is you. You even make my coffee how I like."
"Just because I stole the body of a pig doesn't mean I have to be one myself." I chuckled.
"I haven't been able to cope with your death so I ended up staying at your grave for the last three days without going home or leaving your side." Sven admitted.
My heart wanted to break at that until he changed the subject.
"But that doesn't matter anymore. You're back now. Tell me everything!"
And so I did to the last detail. Needless to say tears welled in his eyes again until I got up and pulled him in my arms to kiss him. I wrapped my arms securely around Sven as he happily reciprocated, our tongues exploring each other's as I felt every groove and mound of his toned frame.
"You really do make a better Devin."
I chuckled and guided him to the couch where he proceeded to sit down on my lap and grind on me. I peeled off my shirt so he can explore my body, and just his touch alone was making me hard within seconds. Sven gasped at the feeling and pressed down more against it.
"Fuck you're massive-"
I smirked.
"More where that came from, baby~" I winked, using Devin's voice. That made his cock twitch. "I see ya like this voice, huh? Just keep calling me Benji because Devin's long gone." I grin, bucking my hips into him.
I was pushing Sven over the edge. He ended up undoing my belt and shorts just to lower them enough to free the massive nine inch fuckstick I now owned. With no hesitation he began to work his mouth on it until he was taking me all the way into his throat. I threw my head back at how mindblowimg this felt! After all I only managed to get off once in this body.
My hands combed through his hair while I guided his head up and down as my hips would buck up and fall in a sensual rhythm. I know Sven was enjoying this as well but I wanted him to feel good too.
"Baby." I groan out. "Stop fuckin teasing me and ride me. I wanna look at you while we both feel good."
Sven eagerly removed himself with a pop before hovering over my throbbing meat and sinking down inch by inch. Goddamn I wanted to cum then and there but I used my essence to stop my body from doing that.
Once he had me buried to the hilt, I pulled him in for a greedy kiss as he started working himself on me slowly. We moaned in each other's mouths as he made it a habit to clench hard on me everytime he went up. But that didn't last long. Within minutes he was bouncing in a frenzy while I bucked up to him everytime he slammed down. I wanted this. At first I added the factor of me doing it to get back at Devin since now he's fucking a guy. But now I lost my sense of revenge for Devin. He's gone now after all. Even now I was forgetting what body I was in because all I cared about was the fact that Sven was back.
Even with pleasured bliss taking hold of us, it wasn't long until he slammed down hard on me and shot his load over my torso. I couldn't hold back either myself and I let out a roar before shooting deep into Sven.
We cuddled there afterwards before going to shower off and then cuddled in my bed watching some random shit on Netflix. We just wanted background noise as we kissed and held each other.
The next morning I awoke with a groan to Sven kissing my lips. I'd grin and pull him on top of me to deepen it before he pulled away.
"I gotta go to work. I'll see you soon, yeah?" Sven asked.
"Without a doubt, babe. Just give me a call." I grin as we peck each other's lips before he leaves.
As I lay there with a blissful smile on my face, it would turn to something sadistic since I have one last part of my plan to do.
Revenge against Anthony.
60 notes · View notes
amorevolousfaith · 2 years ago
Text
Chapter 5: Sister, Brother
Tumblr media
Paring: Marcus Moreno X Reader
Rating: +18 (NO MINORS)
Word Count: 1.3K
Warning: adult language, consumption of alcohol, minor character deaths, hella angst, lots of self-doubt, strangulation, smut, betrayal, death threats.
Summary: Being a single mom is hard, being a single mom to your sister’s kid is hard, being a single mom to your sister’s super powered kid is harder, and being a single mom to your sister’s super powered kid while working as a villain is hardest. It doesn’t help that your kids want to be a superhero, it also doesn’t help that all those super heroes really hate your guts. But, you're making it work.
Note: I really took this kid’s show out of proportion guys...
Tumblr media
I lean against the tree behind me, the bottle of tequila almost half gone as I stare at the two graves in front of me. Today started out good, woke up like I slept two lifetimes and didn’t feel like a zombie, Got Meira up early so I could make her a good breakfast that didn’t burn, I actually got to walk Meira to the front door of her school today, but it’s only after I got home did everything got to hell.
I picked up the mail on the way up to the apartment only to see the unmistakable stack of checks given to us every year on the anniversary of my sister and brother-in-law’s death. The life insurance policy they set up would give Meria checks every year until she’s eighteen. Both of them had one in place which doubled the checks, a smart move on their part, but the third one was sent from the employer they were both under. A sweet old man who just wants to do anything he can to help the family of his longtime friends. Popularly known as grampa Hue.
I don’t remember feeling much after that, I deposited the checks in Meria's secret bank account like I've done every year since her parents died, then I went to the liquor store where I wandered around for an hour and half trying to convince myself I shouldn’t buy a bottle. I ended up buying two bottles of tequila, finished the first bottle an hour before I had to go pick up Meira. So I did what any other reasonable grown up would do, I called in a favor. Grampa Hue offered to keep her for the night if I needed it, and I let him. Which is how I now find myself sitting in a graveyard in the middle of the night with a half finished bottle of Tequila.
I brought the bottle to my lips and took another hard swig, the burning sensation scorching my throat before leaving a bitter after taste. “Well dearest sister,” I mumble to the gravestone in front of me, “It seems another year has passed and I’ve come to the same conclusion from last year, you were a better mother in fourteen months than I am in twelve years.” I grunt bringing the bottle back to my lips.
“Our— your sunshine, is best kid in the world. Smart, stunning, and talented, just like you.” I hum leaning my head back letting the bark of the tree knot into my hair. “And you brother-in-law, are just as silent and brooding as ever.” I snort over the gravestone to the right. “If you two are looking down at me wondering the fuck I’m doing, I hate to tell you I have no fucking idea.” I laugh bitterly before bringing the bottle back up to my lips. Another hard swig because the sting in my chest is back and I’d rather feel a sting in my throat.
“The heroes hate me, they hate me so much.” I laugh on the verge of tears, “But they don’t know shit.” I hiss. “I know I’m not a good person, I know I'm terrible, but never once have I loved half-heartedly. Never once have abandoned those I love, because I’ve made it perfectly clear I will do horrible things for the people I love.” I hiccup, bringing the bottle back up, using the burning liquid to clear my throat. “I’m tired sister, brother.” I whisper weakly, “I’m tired of people making me feel like there’s a hole in my chest where my heart should be.” I croak out.
“Miss (y/l/n),” a voice calls, I turn my head, digging the bark of the tree further into my scalp. There, not too far down the path is Marcus Moreno, “Ah, look who it is.” I laugh bitterly, “Sister, broody brother, meet Mr—uh…fuck.” I hiss when his name slips my mind, too foggy to register a face to a name. “Marcus.” The man supplies walking closer, “Right! Sister, broody brother, meet Mr. Marcus. Meria’s instructor.” I babble waving my hand between Marcus and the gravestones.
“Sister and broody brother.” Marcus greets nodding his head to the headstone, “Are you an idiot? They can’t actually understand you. They’re just gravestones.” I snort bringing the bottle back up. “Then—” He grunts as he gently leans forward to take the bottle, “Why are you talking to them?” He hums pulling the bottle away from me. “Because I need to retain what sanity I have left by talking out my feelings, I’d do it to actual people but in case you haven’t noticed I don’t have friends. Only a niece I don’t want to burden more than I already have.” I scoff rolling my eyes gesturing to the empty graveyard around me, “Can you believe this guy?” I muse over to the headstones.
I hear Marcus hums tilting the bottle over, “HEY! If you're gonna pour it out, do it on her grave. The woman deserves a drink after watching me fuck up the world from the clouds!” I hiss. Marcus pauses before moving over to the headstone and pours out the tequila over the grave, “There you go sister, sorry I don’t have a lime. But beggars can’t be choosers.” I shrug. “(y/n) what are you doing out here?” Marcus questions, “Why do you care?” I scoff closing my eyes. “Because your niece called me saying you might need help.” He huffs, “Why the fuck does my niece have your number?” I sneer snapping my eyes open to glare at him.
“Easy,” He soothes, holding his hands up in surrender, “I gave it to her in case she needed something. After all you're only safe when you're a civilian, you get caught on the job who’s gonna take care of Meria.” Marcus explains. “Bold words coming from one of the many who could never catch me.” I snort, “It was just a precaution.” He sighs. I hum and cross my arms, “I don’t know Marcus, you seem to take a liking to Meira. More so than my liking.” I snip with a glare. “She’s my favorite student, the only one who takes physical training seriously and not as a recess.” He shrugs. “Who would have thought?” I crackle throwing my arms out to the sky, “The niece of a villain ACTUALLY wanting to be a hero, even after the villain jumps through hoops like a circus act to make it happen!” I laugh sarcastically.
“Fuck you Marcus.” I hiss, “Fuck you and all your little narssistic, self centered, egotiscal, self righteous heroes.” I snarl. My blood fritzing and the sky above us darkening in color, “I know (y/n), I’m sorry.” He spoke softly. My eyes go wide before snapping over to actually look at him. The soft apologetic look on his face my heart aching, “Don’t look at me like that, don’t FUCKING look at me like that.” I seethe, but my heart still aches and without the help of the bottle I can’t ignore it. “It’s okay to feel sad (y/n),” Marcus soothes, I feel my throat tighten up, “Especially today. It’s okay if you want to cry or scream, but you can’t hold in.” He whispers, taking my hands in his.
That touch broke something in me, whether it was the warmth of his hands holding mine or the way he held them softly in a firm grasp, I don’t know. But something broke, something broke and I felt the tears sting at my eyes before falling, Marcus doesn’t hesitate to pull me close and engulf me in a hug. The warmth of his body consuming mine and making it feel as if I’ve gone boneless, the feeling only makes me sob onto his shoulder harder. My hands knot themselves on the opening of his jacket, grounding me so I didn’t accidentally spiral in the man’s arms. I hear the boom of lightning and thunder in the sky, as Marcus’s hand rubs along my back. “It’s all going to be okay, you're gonna be alright.” He mumbles, and for some reason or another, I believe him.
<---- Prev // Masterlist // Next ---->
16 notes · View notes
nightfall-kachiniko · 3 years ago
Text
“A Broken Promise.” Mikasa x Reader Fan fiction.
||| Chapter 2. “To Conclude “ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ! :D
Tw: panic attack, swearing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your eyes woken as the noise of the flying boat continues. “I guess it wasn’t a dream” you thought to yourself. The missing aroma of your girlfriend had lingered in the air from the moment you woke up. Missing her sweet smell as she would cradle you in her arms. Now the bed you both had once shared only laid your body in it. The woman you saw yesterday was no more than Mikasa Ackerman, she was a stranger. Only if she knew.
You sat up as you began looking around the room you made various memories in. Even if the amount of time the both of you had spent together in that airship was small, it still counts as something you’d treasure forever.
You were alone. So alone. The feeling of emptiness running through your head to your toes as you sat up. The soft welcoming bed had turned to a gravestone. And although she’d been acting this way since the rumbling started, despite her caring attitude the woman became vicious towards the person she calls her lover. And for the first time last night, it truly hit you, right as the stung sprang across your face, You’ve Lost The Love Of Your Life, Mikasa Ackerman.
Tumblr media
You always had that feeling of doubt ever since she started acting this way, but the thought of you losing her was pushed to the back of your mind by the blindness they call love.
Memories faded from one thought to another as you threw on your uniform, locking your bedroom door as you did so. Thinking of her was your comfort, thinking of Mikasa, not the monster that was replaced by her yesterday.
Your body carelessly dragged itself to the bathroom, your feet walking in a drowsy manner. Picking up the toothbrush and gliding it across your teeth as the mint feeling filled your dry mouth. The number of sobs that had come out of your mouth that night would always leave an impact on you. You looked up at the person in the mirror, trying to recognize the figure you saw. “FUCK!” you yelled, kicking over your trashcan.
Your heavy pants coming in and out of your body. You sighed as you leaned on your counter, turning on one sink to wash your tear-stained face. You didn't even want to eat, you didn't want to do anything. That's all she treated you as if you were some stranger! As if you were a no-one to her. “JUST LOOK WHAT WE BECAME!” you screamed at yourself. Tears falling down your cheeks as you started to sob to yourself.
Falling to the cold floor as the day before haunts you. The look in her eyes... of pure hate, pure anger. Curling up into a ball as a sound on your door softly hushed you. “Wait, ” you said, getting up. You came out of the bathroom and made your way towards your door. “Who? And what is it.” The voice of your own spoke ever so softly, so calmly, almost as if you were numb. “Hey y/n, I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing,” Armin said, quietly trying to help.
Tumblr media
You breathed in slightly and out before opening the door to be greeted by a warm, tight, hug from your childhood friend. The feeling started to come up again, throughout your throat and the prickles in your eyes. You softly cried into his shoulder, hurt coming out with every breath. “Honey I’m so sorry..” He said, petting your hair as he closed the door, guiding you over to the bed to sit down.
“I know how you feel..” he breathed into your hair. “I-I just don’t get it.. Why is she acting like this… what did I do..” you sobbed. The blonde boy softly shushed you as he pecked your cheek with a small kiss. Armins way of comfort is different than others.
Ever since you had met him, eren, and mikasa, in hard times like this such as after Carla Jeager died, he would always comfort them by pecking their cheek, showing them that he is here for them. His grandpa always told him, “if someone’s sad, always give them a kiss to make them happy,” and the boy had followed his orders ever since. It wasn’t like he meant it in a romantic way, it was more of a, “hey, don’t cry I’m here, it’s gonna be okay,” kind of thing. Everyone used to call him weird for it, but you and Eren and Mikasa truly didn’t mind and knew he meant no harm in it.
“It’s going to be ok,” he said, softly trying to help you control your hyper ventilating cries.  He guiding you to sit down as he hugged your sadden body. “Does she h-hate me?” You asked over your cries. “Of course not y/n.. don’t think that…” he comforted.
“W-what did I do wrong?!” Your voice strained and cracked as your crying became more and more heavy.“Nothing y/n… not a thing..” Armin padded your back and brushed your hair as you cried into his shoulder, ”You know.. Mikasa hasn’t been doing all to well.. ever since Eren abandoned us.. she felt so lost.. as if he gave up in us..”
“Does she give up on me?! Is that it?” Tearing eyes looked at him in his own. He paused for a moment in shock, before taking a reassuring smile on his face, “no of course not! Mikasa just, she doesn’t know how to let out her emotions properly.. that’s all.”
“So she had to hit me?!” You said. Armin sighed and looked away. “Mikasa, just.. she.. she’s hurt.. but that gives her no right to take it out on you y/n.. I’m sorry she did that to you.” He rubbed his head against yours almost like a dog trying to comfort their owner. “There’s no doubt in my mind she doesn’t love you, alright?” He said, shaking my shoulders. You just melted into his arms, absorbing the only person who was there for you.
The kindness that Armin showed you made you slip back deep into thought, deep into that moment….deep back to when..
Tumblr media
“M-Mikasa..” You came out of the bathroom, your body shaking and your breath heavy. Your girlfriend sat on the bed, reading a book when you came out. Her gaze turning from the book to you. Mikasas eyes became filled with worry while seeing your body shake with every breath you took. “Sweetheart? Baby is everything okay?” She closed her book and sat up straight, looking at you.. Your breath quivered. It felt as though the world was spinning. Your eyes became filled with blurry ness every time you blinked and eventually you slid down the wall.
“Y/n!” You heard Mikasas voice scream. Everything around you was so distorted. Stress and fear overcame you as you began crying, scared of what was happening. You heavily sobbed as mikasa wrapped her strong arms around you, her soft sweet voice comforting you. “It’s okay sweetheart… everything’s gonna be okay,” she rocked you, while whispering little affirmations of hope, letting you know you’re going to be okay.
Your body shook with every ounce of a energy it had. You frantically cried, the overwhelmingness of the panic attack you were having flooded your mind with thoughts of your past. The days were it was like there was nothing left. It felt as though you were dying. “I’m right here my sweet angel.. Shh..it’s alright my baby..” your girlfriend said, trying to comfort you.
Your tears becoming more and more hysterical as you cried. The raven haired girl held you for what seemed like an eternity. The blurry vision eventually died down aswell as the ringing in your ears. For a moment, Mikasa’s arms let go of you. And once you felt her right up close to you again, a feeling of steady ness swept over you as a blanket of warmth slept over your neck. The red scarf. Just as you felt the wrath of calmness come over your body, the sweet girl said.. “You’ll never be alone.. I promise.. I’ll always protect you.. forever and always..”
Tumblr media
“Let me get you some breakfast, alright y/n?” You snapped back into reality as Armins voice entered your ears. The vision of mikasa disappearing as he spoke. Your mind trailed as you gave him a small nod, wiping your tears.
Armin gave you one last big hug before getting up. “What would you like to eat y/n?” He questioned. “I can make you some eggs? Maybe some bacon aswell?” The blonde stood looking at your still trembling figure. You softly took a breath in and tried to smile.
“Y-yeah.. that sounds great A-armin..” tears still in your eyes as you tried to give him a reassuring smile, stuttering, holding back your tears. Armin returned the smile with one of his own.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes alrighty Y/n?” Armin spoke. You softly nodded as he made his way to the door.
“Oh, and Armin,” you said to him. The kind Blonde boy turned around in the doorway, his gaze at you as he looked at you from over his shoulder. “Yes y/n?” He asked.
You got up, searching your messy bed. You moved pillows and blankets out the way before you finally gripped onto the item. You held it out infront of you as Armin gasped.
There in your sweet, delicate hands, laid mikasa’s red scarf. The same heartwarming piece she would wrap you in. Despite if you were happy or sad. Her scarf gave you meaning. To her, it reminded her of how Eren showed her how to live, but to you It reminded yourself of how she showed you how to live.
Tumblr media
She always was there.
She always was caring.
She always was showing you how much she loved you.
Even if she never exactly showed it much, you always knew Mikasa loved you. Even if she yelled at you. Even if she hit you. Even if she said she hated you.
You nodded, persuading Armin to take the red scarf. “Give this to her,” you said, calmly.
Armins eyes widened, “y/n.. you- you arent serious are you?” He said, concerned with worry in his tone. “Not at all.” You replied, your numb spirit talking. His eyes looked at you and then the Burgundy scarf.
“Are- are you guys.. d-done?” Armin asked, ever so anxious.
“Yes.. yes we are.”
Tumblr media
A/n: “ I hope you guys cried LMAO”
➪ Kachiniko ||♡︎ My Blog ♥︎ || ☾What I write ☽ 06/10/21
Chap. 1 “Come back to me”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
133 notes · View notes
kkusuka · 4 years ago
Note
Um... could you like maybe do something with Kenma trying to unlock new levels on reader... but like seggsually🙈
Like they start with kissing, then feeling it up, then you know where it goes😏
This is modeled a bit different than anything i’ve ever written but i like it! 
Kenma Kozume x reader
genre: smut 
Cw: fem anatomy, gn! Pronouns, the last part is NSFW
a/n: i love kenma so much, he is a certified pretty boy, and i know that i have other requests but i saw it and just had to write something. 
--------
Start Game → Y or N Y → loading… Proceed to level one. ----
Level One: Hand Holding
Right now, Kenma was seriously regretting listening to Kuroo’s advice. The guy had one girlfriend and all of a sudden he’s telling Kenma that the best first dates are festival dates. He even forced Kenma to get dressed up in a traditional yukata.
Luckily he let you know to wear a kimono before he was embarrassed even further.
But now it was 8:30, everyone and their mother was at the festival and he was lost. There was absolutely no way he would be able to find you by 8:45. He knew that you would be somewhere by the shrine, so at least he could start there.
“Ken- Kenma! Stop! Wait for me!”
Turning he saw your figure pushing through the crowds of children to where he stood at the steps of the shrine. By the time you made it to him, you were panting out an apology, something about leaving your phone at home but he wasn't really listening.
The only thing he could feel was the way your hand had grabbed his amid your explanation. And as you pull him to some random food both, he curls his fingers into yours.
Level Two: Hugs
White day was a nightmare for him, he had a gift, one he was sure you would love, but he was a ball of nerves from the moment he woke up. He shouldn't be this nervous, you've been dating for three months; gifts were a common theme between the two of you.
But today, it was just him. There was no exchange, you won't give him anything. It’s all on him and he was panicking. He knew that you would love anything he gave, it was just your personality, but that didn't stop him from thinking you would throw it back in his face and laugh.
Still, he met you on the steps in the front of the school. Manga and sweets wrapped up, hiding behind his back as you scurried to meet him where he stood.
“I-uh got these for you. Happy white day y/n”
You just looked at him for a second, his fear creeping into his throat before you threw yourself into his unexpecting arms. Still holding his gifts, he wrapped his arms around your waist tucking his head on your shoulder.
“I love them, Ken. thank you.”
Level three: Kiss on the Cheek
Cat cafes have a special place in the blonde boy's heart. Actually, cat cafes with you have his whole heart. Of course, there was one downside to these dates.
The calico cat that had been rubbing along your legs the entire time. The same cat you let snuggle on your thighs, a cat he was vehemently jealous of. He wanted you to kiss him all over his head and tell him how pretty his eyes were.
Finally, he watched as the cat walked over to their food bowl and your attention was all back on him. Finishing your food and splitting the check, you both made your way out of the cafe to a park bench overseeing a small pond.
“You really liked that one cat didn’t you?”
“Aw Ken! Are you jealous!”
“No”
Ignoring your soft giggle, he focused on the hand that pulled his cheek into two soft lips. Settling there for a second, you pulled away rubbing another small circle on his opposite cheek.
Level four: Butterfly Kisses
The national qualifiers are always the most suspenseful games of the year. The entire game against Nohebi is a nail-biter, not a single moment went by that you were sitting comfortably.
So by the time the final set ended you were courtside ready for the game to finally end. When it finally did, with Nekoma in favor, you hopped over the makeshift gate right into his arms.
Holding him tight you lifted his head and placed your arms around his neck pulling your lips to his. Feeling him smiling into the kiss you pulled back and began to pepper small pecks between little giggles and congratulatory terms.
“I’m going to have to win a whole lot more just for that to happen.”
Level five: Accidental Grope
Every school festival always has a haunted house, and this year just happens to be languages above the rest. And he can't say no to you, so now he’s walking through a portion of the room that's supposed to be a graveyard.
They even had smoke machines.
He was about to tell you something he can't remember until someone jumped from a surprisingly well-made gravestone. And before he could think his hand was reaching out to grab onto you.
Your arm was after then he remembered, much squishier and has a very rhythmic up and down movement. He slowly turned to see his hand enveloping one of your...boobs. Oh god.
“I-i’m sorry! I didn't mean to-”
“Ken! I-it’s ok, you don't mean to”
Throughout his entire apology, his hand remained until you heard another pair of feet approaching, pulling away you walked the rest of the event hand-in-hand.
Final level: Making Love
Kenma loved peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, so it was fitting he did so as he bottoms out in your dripping hole. Pressing his hips to flush against yours, moving his lips to meet yours in a sloppy kiss.
Pulling your thighs to wrap around his waist as he began, returning to leaving kisses along your jaw.
“You feel so, so good, kitten” he murmured as he hit a spongy spot in your depths. Taking a nipple in his mouth, he gave it a long suck as a hand reached down to rub around your clit.
“Ken- please faster, please, please go faster Ken!” Well, he can never say no to you anyway, pulling your legs to your chest pounding into your pussy. Feeling your high approach, you pulled your body up to his chest as you locked his lips in another kiss.
“You-you can cum please kitten.”
Following his command you came apart on his cock, he followed soon after releasing himself onto your stomach before collapsing onto you.
“I love you, Ken”
“I love you too, Y/n”
GAME OVER
WINNER
230 notes · View notes