#that just means all the more time for old injuries (hes a general!!) to build up

[pyrrhicprose]

Jing Yuan w/ chronic pain bouncing around my mind rn... You don't get stabbed/sacrificed like that w/o aftereffects 👀

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Surprise | Soap x Reader

Summary: After a mission that they barely survived, Ghost leads the team to a safe place to stay, his half-sister’s apartment.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, missiles, etc

A/N: first time writing for cod…hope you enjoy, lmk what to do for part 2!! (also here is what I had in mind for the apartment layout, if you’re like me and can’t picture buildings in your head)

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Their mission had gone to complete shit.

It had started relatively simple compared to the other missions they’d been doing, with Russians, cartels, Mexican forces, and whatnot. They’d been shipped out to America, a suspected terrorist group that had been working for General Barkov when he’d been killed.

A group that had now gone rogue, and rumor was that they were headed to Britain, holding a missile for transport that had been stolen from a covert American base. The Americans weren’t taking it too well, but that was to be expected.

“We don’t have enough information to know who they are, you just need to get that missile transported, and get out of there.” Laswell had told them.

“Sounds easy compared to what we do every mornin’, right Lt?” Soap had said with a grin, nudging him with an elbow slightly, and he had only given a grunt in response, still processing information.

“Easy” his arse.

Sent to one of the states at first, they’d tracked down this supposed terrorist group, apparently it being a lot larger than they originally expected. A lot larger.

It was only because of the intel Gaz had gotten his hands on that they’d been able to locate the missile while it moved, it being located in a broken-down warehouse near Galveston, Texas. Right near the Gulf of Mexico, if they were planning on taking it to sea to travel with it.

And when they’d stormed the warehouse?

A total mess. Unorganized and sloppy.

Soap had blown the door, and they’d planted charges around to detonate for the men guarding the missile but had underestimated just how many there would be. It was crawling with them, more confirmation that they’d been informed somehow beforehand of Task Force 141.

Men in vents, ceiling panels, underneath desks, and hiding behind cabinets, doors, anything.

The missile had only been taken out because of air support, the same air support that had nearly been shot down and taken out, when a heli had finally come in to reprieve them while snatching that missile up and getting the hell out of there.

That didn’t solve the problem of the men everywhere, though. The charges that had been meant to blow some to pieces had been botched, and with all the gunfire, they would attract unwanted attention. Police were already investigating, conveniently turning a blind eye to Price and the rest of his force. It wasn’t a coincidence. Not when Shepherd had a history of paying people off to keep them quiet.

But that wasn’t their problem, right now, Ghost was trying to devise a way to get them the hell out of America, or at least out of goddamn Texas. Of all the places to be stuck in.

“Laswell, where the hell is our exfil?”

He radioed over, crouched down on the roof of a building, taking out whoever he could from it. Many of the men in the terrorist group weren’t a bad shot either, so he decided to keep his head relatively low.

“Negative, Ghost.” Price’s voice responded.

“The hell does that mean?”

“We aren’t leaving. Too many men still here, Kate wants us keeping eyes on ‘em.”

“Bloody fucking hell..”

They had decided to regroup at an old church down the road, Soap was a little banged up, with more than a few cuts and bruises, and Gaz dealing with a minor head injury he’d gotten when someone had tried to smash his skull in with a gun, and Price donning a decent sized cut to the arm.

“This is a covert mission. We can’t stay at a hotel or anything of the like, so where are we going?” Gaz asked, and Price paused for a moment, looking a bit unsure, which made sense considering this had been a get-in-get-out mission before it had changed. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Ghost spoke.

“I know someone, but they’re a long ways away.”

~ 3:48 A.M.~

A knock that was more like a banging on your door woke you up from your light sleep as you quietly sat up in your bed, standing and tiptoeing over to the front door of your spacey apartment.

It was large, for the price. But considering you were working for the landlord at a local restaurant, as he was the general manager there as well, it made sense.

The apartment held two spare bedrooms, and a nice living room connected to a kitchen with a table in it you liked using. Two bathrooms, one in the hallway where your room was in, another connected to a guest bedroom. A little balcony, which came in handy when one of your friends wanted a smoke break when over at your place.

Palming the closed hunting knife still connected to your pants and hanging loosely, you figured you were safe enough to answer the door, and looking through the peephole, you saw four men.

Military, and the one in the Ghost mask…

Opening the door, your face now annoyed, you stared him dead in the eye. Didn’t even glance at the others.

“We need a place to stay. A month or two at most.”

His low and rough voice, donning a British accent, said. It was louder than you remembered him being, but then again, he wasn’t the scared little Simon that you’d known anymore, scared of the abusive father you’d both shared. He wasn’t the Simon who mumbled or spoke quietly anymore.

A silent conversation passed between you two at the door, a thick silence passing over the entire group. The other men stared. Your eyes narrowed, a nonverbal question.

Are you on a mission?

He didn’t move for a moment, no doubt thinking of the information he could share with you. Another reason for your eventual fallout, the fact that he wouldn’t ever share with you anything if what he did. It was always to keep you safe.

Eventually, he gave a tiny, near imperceptible nod. On a mission. Of course, he would come to you while on a mission, dragging you into it. It wasn’t like you were helpless against attackers, not at all, but they’d had some crazy shit happen to them over the years, and that was just from what you’d overheard.

With a resigned sigh, you looked over at the other men he’d brought.

A taller man, with a beard, and a bucket hat. He looked like he had authority. A man on the shorter end, with some scruff, a mohawk, and a poorly restrained cheeky smile. The last man was darker, an almost caramel brown, with short hair, cleanly shaven, and a hat on.

Military men, clearly, but if Simon was willing to trust them around you, then you didn’t count them much as a threat right now.

“Names.”

You said flatly, and the Mohawk-one’s brows raised before replying.

“You can call me Soap-“

“I mean your name, not your shitty military nickname.”

You interrupted bluntly, clearly not in the best mood after being woken at 3 AM because of Simon Riley. “Soap” raised his hands in a mock gesture of innocence.

“Easy, lass. It’s Johnny, if you must know.”

Scottish, then. You could tell by the accent. The taller one spoke.

“John Price.”

The prettiest of the group spoke with a little smile that could’ve fooled you for not being faked.

“Kyle.”

Giving them all one last flat, surveying look, you jerked your head into the apartment, walking in.

“Two guest bedrooms down that way, bathrooms down the hall, there’s a balcony if you want a second exit. Don’t break anything.”

You said simply, and they walked in, looking tired as hell and covered in bandages. However, you weren’t going to let this go. Not right now.

You grabbed Simon by the arm, and he stiffened, stopping.

“You and I are going to have a little talk, Simon.” You said, dragging him into your room, and shutting the door behind you as he sighed, pulling his mask off. Blond hair and lashes came into view, as well as baby blue eyes.

“What the fuck were you thinking, bringing-“

You began, pissed as hell. He hadn’t contacted you in years, not since his mom had died, and with your shared father already dead, you’d been shoved into foster care.

“We’re all injured. We can’t stay anywhere we can be easily found. This area isn’t as well registered, and we’ll be gone in a month.” He spoke simply as if it wasn’t anything to get upset or emotional about.

You took a breath and breathed it out. Stay calm.

“I’m not talking about the mission, Simon.”

He seemed unused to being called his real name. At least, by the stiffening of his shoulders, you guessed so.

“There’s nothing else to talk about.”

He said gruffly, turning to open the door and leave. You stepped in his way, and he stared down at you, unamused. You were barely 5’6, and he was 6’2, so it was quite the height difference.

“You can’t run from your problems forever, Simon.”

You said, hands on your hips, and he simply picked you up, placing you beside him as he opened the door and walked out. Always running from his problems.

It was surprisingly unsurprising.

~ 4:07 A.M.~

“You want to explain who the hell that is, Simon?”

Price asked gruffly from where they were all gathered in one of the guest rooms. Simon paused his quiet pacing for a moment to reply.

“My half-sister.” He answered, and a silence fell over at that. The only sibling they knew he had was Tommy, and Tommy was long dead at that. A few seconds passed, before Soap, in the bathroom connected to this particular guest room, combing his Mohawk and going through his haircare routine, spoke up.

“She’s a real bonnie lass.” Johnny said with a grin, and Simon sighed.

“English, MacTavish.”

“She’s hot as fuck, sir.” The Scotsman said, and there was a small, disappointed sigh from Gaz, who already knew he’d have to patch up Soap from Ghost, who was fuming silently.

[alicerosejensen]

Warning: unhealthy relationship; Dark; not a yandere Leon but almost; the reader has no family and friends; Rescuer syndrome (if you look really closely at the very beginning); mentions of alcohol; Dom!Leon; fem/reader; Older!Leon; Mentions of pregnancy;

Summary: He will love you until his death. You are his and no one else's.

A/N: English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Also I don't approve of this crap in real life and if it triggers you, please look at the warning again and skip it. Just because I write doesn't mean it's cool in real life. Build only healthy relationships based on mutual love, trust, compromises without violence.

If you look closely, neither of you two were healthy enough to build a relationship.

Of course you're not a pet. Even if you is devoted to him like a dog whose owner is drowning on the Titanic, and Leon has long been sinking. Of course, he does not consider you an animal and he is sincerely sorry that because of your injuries you cling to him, and he, in turn, succumbs to the selfish desire to keep his girl close to him.

You were so young and alone that, apparently due to your childhood traumas, you sought love from someone who tried to cope with his traumas with the help of alcohol. Leon didn't think he should have touched you at all. In his opinion, everything he touches turns to shit, and he didn't mean to hurt you at all. Besides, he believed that seducing such a young girl, even if you are of age, is almost a crime, however, he could not stop being drawn to you. My God, he’s already turning 40 and you’re a little over 20. Do girls your age hang out with such old men? You should find a young guy with whom you can do all sorts of stupid things while being on the same wavelength, and not cling to his back like a lost child. But in general, it’s not really a fact, but just an observation, but lonely people often have pets to while away their unbearable loneliness. Leon does not have the opportunity to get a dog or a cat, his job means that he spends little time at home, but...

At night, you sleep soundly, throwing your leg over him and reaching out with your arms to hug him. Leon catches himself thinking that he likes to listen to measured breathing and feel the soft skin on his body. His sweet girl... in your sleep you feel how other people's fingers are drawing patterns on your back and you fucking like it. Don’t care about studying, which can open the door to the world of a good career with a decent salary, love into which you dive headfirst is the most beautiful thing that has happened in your life.

And you are ready to hold on to him until the last... Well, actually, just like he does to you.

It’s deep night outside, the bedroom is in wireless darkness, which Leon is so afraid of because of painful memories, but why is he calm now when you’re sleeping so quietly next to him.

"Bunny?" Leon rarely calls you that, but those cute pajamas of yours with the bunny ears on the tank top make him smile, kissing your forehead because your sleep, unlike him, is quite sound.

In fact, he feels like a son of a bitch who sleeps with a girl half his age and, to Leon’s own horror, it’s not even lust. He himself doesn’t fully understand what kind of crap is happening to him, but the point is that he really feels for you... high feelings. At least every day it becomes more and more difficult to let you out of his arms.

But you're sleeping. An absolute angel and Leon wonders if he can mistake your compassion for love? Or do you just have daddy issues? Thinking about this, Leon grins, burying his nose in your hair. He has his faithful “Matilda” in his bedside table, and, in theory, he has nothing to fear, but he is unlikely to be able to live with such crap as before 1998. You planted an obsession for him, gradually nurturing and strengthening it, like a caring gardener painstakingly working on his favorite flower. You yourself cling to him, adjoining him, you are even ready to give up all prospects for your future life for the sake of him alone.

Leon kisses you and strokes your cheek with his thumb, pressing you to his chest, finally closing his eyes and falling into sleep.

Actually, Leon thinks that it’s all your fault. Who if not you?! It’s like you’re deliberately making him worry by putting the phone on silent or calling him back too late, which is why he gradually seems to lose his mind if he can’t be sure that everything is okay. He screams and you cry and apologize to him because you are afraid that he will leave you alone. This is your biggest fear, even if Leon had nothing like that in his thoughts. For heaven's sake, he really hates your tears and he hates feeling guilty about it even more.

"Just don't make me worry anymore" He asks in a soothing tone, pressing your trembling body to him.

And you nod your head, feeling how painful your stomach is from the stress you have experienced and your conflict with him.

"I'll never again...I swear"

You are a stone on his neck, which he in theory can throw off but does not want to. What's going on with you two is clearly not normal. This is immediately noticed by Claire watching how you loyally sit next to him and seem to be interested in nothing but Leon. Seriously, of course, few people from her inner circle like a secular reception, but Claire really thinks it's very strange.

"She's…" Redfield notices your discomfort when Leon walks away to talk to her. However, he himself constantly turns around to look after you while you are nervously sitting at a table with a half-empty glass looking at him with deer eyes. "How old is she? In my opinion, you don't really look like a guy who…indulging in young girls"

Leon squints into Claire's eyes. In truth, part of him realizes that she is saying a clever thought and the other begins to howl unbearably, because you are really the nicest thing that has happened in the last years of his life. So why the hell should he constantly give up his human happiness just because it allegedly does not fit into the worldview of other people?!

"I'm not keeping her forcibly next to me," he replied rudely, and Claire shuddered at the unusual cold tone, "She can leave if she wants to, but she doesn't want to."

Well, who will look after you if even all your loved ones have abandoned you?

The Redfields look disapproving, and when Leon returns to the table in a bad mood, they both see you clinging to his hand, anxiously flapping your eyes, calming down only when he quickly kisses you on the cheek and runs his palm over your back. However, Leon has never really hurt you. After a while, Claire even gets used to this abnormal connection between her friend and his young girlfriend, only rolls her eyes when she sees that Leon constantly sends you messages, checking how well you took care of yourself while he was away.

"She has problems with dad" is a fair conclusion, which Leon deliberately ignored, without commenting on it in any way.

And it wasn't even untrue. With Leon's help, you unconsciously compensated for what you were not given as a child, in turn, Leon himself treated himself with your presence. Because he knows for sure that when he wakes up, you will be next to him in bed, and you will not run away while he sleeps, leaving a paper airplane with traces of scarlet lipstick on his lips and a short signature "See you later", along with the fading scent of perfume in the room. He doesn't need to worry about where you are in the evening, because you are either in the living room watching TV, or in the bedroom, or in the kitchen. No matter what you are doing, the main thing is in his field of vision. If he need to call out to you, then you will respond, and this is the most important thing for him - to know that you are always in close proximity to him.

With each passing year, his control grows, building strict rules.

There is no point in listing them, and Leon knows that you would not violate anything even if you knew nothing about them. Mostly it was just for peace of mind. You walk only with him, don’t lift weights, communicate with strangers to a minimum and... yes, you don’t go to college anymore, because he doesn’t always have time to pick you up from there after classes, well, you can’t say that you were completely against it . There were already enough missed classes for this to become a problem. Anyone's problem but not yours, because...

“I will support you perfectly. My credit card is at your disposal, buy whatever you want or wait for me, sweetheart"

You weren’t a shopaholic, but sometimes you indulged in expensive purchases. Leon never objected.

They took care of you, you didn’t have to study or work, you could sleep until lunchtime, the only important thing was to remain an obedient girl for your Leon, who was too fixated on you. No normal person would consider what was happening to be normal, when you literally cannot leave the house without someone else’s permission. Should you walk to the store for groceries or just a short jog in the morning? Strictly prohibited! Of course you can with Leon, because in his opinion he is a guarantee that everything will be fine with you as long as he is around. You won’t be attacked by some crazy person or a rabid dog, he will carefully check the expiration date on the packages so that his bunny doesn’t get poisoned and other little things that were completely absurd.

It’s remarkable that you were an obedient girl, because your subconscious said that if you make even the slightest mistake, the retribution would be terrible, only the fear was not because of physical violence (no, he doesn’t beat you at all) but because you were afraid that Leon would find yourself another girlfriend, leaving you to choke on your own love or even kill yourself.

Although Leon didn’t threaten to break up with you at all. All lovers quarrel, but you were literally shaking with fear that everything would end, as if the sky would fall to the ground or the sun would stop shining, destroying all living things. No, of course Leon wouldn’t leave you, because his love is no less sick than yours. So his fear is that you'll probably realize he's too old for you, as Claire tells him, and leave for a younger guy. Leon simply cannot tolerate this shit, so he locks you in his house. And still you don't mind.

Leon knows everything his angel likes, from food to your favorite color, which can change depending on your mood. Unlike you, he himself was quite secretive, but you knew well some of his preferences and how to behave when his self-esteem fell through the roof after yet another death at work. Sometimes it was necessary to sit quietly in the next room, but more often just sit on his lap, stroke his head and kiss him. Kiss a lot.

And yet Leon was afraid that you would find a replacement for him.

Therefore, it was necessary to tie you to him so that no one could ever take you away from him. And the only option that Leon saw was to become a father.

“Are you serious?! Damn it, what’s happening to you?! Did she really so calmly agree to conceive a child with you?!”

For God's sake, the way Claire screams makes Leon's ears pop. In fact, only he planned, with only one goal to make you stay with him and fulfill his old dream of a family. But he will say that this was discussed with you and, in fact, you and he even managed to argue about names and what color you would decorate the nursery, which of course was not true, but Claire and others don’t need to know about it.

Leon didn’t even bring up this topic of conversation with you, he just pierced a few with a condoms and, fortunately for him, the result did not take long to arrive. With the first signs, Leon immediately knew that the pregnancy tests would show a positive result and yet he takes care of you when vomit turns your stomach. Like a caring daddy who collects your hair at the back of your head while you spew out everything you’ve eaten and strokes your back, supporting you. A warm blanket, a dim light, a pat on your stomach? It's all for you, baby, and for this little pea inside of you. Leon suppresses a grin, believing that his plan has worked... which is really the case.

"Oh, sweetheart, I hope it's tears of joy, because you don't have a single reason to cry anymore," Leon says when he looks at you crying sitting on the toilet lid, hugging his shoulder, and a positive test is lying on the floor next to you.

Complete shit, but you were crying literally because you were afraid that he would definitely leave now. Fortunately, luck, as you naively believed, has not left you.

Leon did everything to ensure that his little American dream and family were safe under his complete control. Firstly, he immediately said that his child needed more space, although the apartment was spacious enough and the three of them could live here in peace, especially since there was a park nearby, but Leon needed a house. The one that no one will stick their nose into, although in fact, despite the quarrel with Claire and the others, he is thinking of inviting them to the birth of a child. And he's not going to completely isolate you from others. Courses for young mothers, the same walks with a stroller near the house, it was necessary, especially since the baby and mom need fresh air.

You are required to obey and strictly follow all the doctor's recommendations as before. Of course, Leon takes you to all prenatal appointments to make sure that everything is fine, it gives him an unprecedented delight to be next to you at the first ultrasound. Damn, baby, you have to give him a girl! Although he wasn't against the boy.

It is noteworthy that you have never said a word against. After all, everything was fine with you: huge care, a new big house with a small extension for a playground in the backyard, which hinted at the obvious fact that this is your first child with Leon, but not the last. However, how much love he gives you while you are pregnant compensates for all the ailments!

And when you finally give birth, Leon, of course, next to you meets his sweet girl, whose fate, as he thinks, can only be envied. At least now you won’t leave him anywhere, but will forever remain with you and next to you, cherishing your little girl whom he is going to spoil just like her mommy. Leon will put the crib next to the bed, make a new schedule and take a million photos of his happy family.

He adores you and that's all you need. In the end, Leon even admits to himself that he didn’t need the child as much as you, and only Claire and Chris seem to see how abnormal this relationship is.

Only Leon doesn't care anymore.

And you too.

[thatsnotmygunflash]

“Panic erupted at Central City Hall after unknown gunmen kidnapped Congressman Leonard Snart in broad daylight during his 'Metas are Human' rally. Eyewitnesses to the attack say three of Snart's security guards were killed in their efforts to protect the Congressman and four more were injured. Authorities say they are putting in every effort to recover the Congressman, working around the clock to bring him home safely. If anyone has any information regarding—”

“Hey man, are you watching the news?” Barry didn't bother with a hello when he heard the call connected, his eyes still glued to the footage of the kidnapping replaying on the TV screen. It was the first time since being back in Central that he'd felt the familiar course of adrenaline start to build in his blood. His feet were already vibrating just thinking about running head-first into a new mission. This was a problem he could solve as easily as making a run to the grocery store. He might not be in the military anymore and his whole team may be suspended from using their powers on US soil until the investigation is over, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let that stop him from saving not only his personal hero but the Congressman leading the fight for metahuman rights. If Leonard Snart died, metahumans wouldn’t stand a chance against the discrimination and dehumanization they were up against in Congress. 

“Yeah, crazy right? Can't believe they got the drop on Captain Cold.” Cisco replied readily, the echoing broadcast accompanying his voice. “I mean, we've all heard the stories from General Lance.” 

Leonard Snart hadn’t always been a Congressman, of course. He was the beloved Mayor of Central City before that, and a decorated police officer briefly after being honorably discharged from the military due to an injury in the field. Leonard Snart was the only human to ever Captain the same covert metahuman team Barry had helped lead for the past five years. The original Rogues were legendary, especially their human leader. He may have only been human, but Snart had a genius-level intellect and was an expert tactician, not to mention an exceptional marksman and a bit of a kleptomaniac at the most convenient of times. Captain Cold was a decorated hero who helped turn the Rouges into the military's best secret weapon. The motivational stories that Sara had told them during training and the old missions she would drill them on had fueled Barry's endless quest to be the best operative he could be. Chasing Captain Cold's legacy like it was critical to his career, right up to the point of obsession. It had helped him rank up quickly, religiously studying Snart's tactical strategies, missions, and reports. Barry learned from his mistakes before he could even make them most of the time thanks to Snart’s detailed mission logs and his additional references to counter scenarios that would have been successful. Barry was the man he is today because of Leonard Snart–his hero, his teacher, and his inspiration. He couldn’t stand back on the sidelines and hope someone else was going to put a plan together and save Snart.

He had to do something. 

“Yeah, they would have just shot him in the street if they wanted him dead,” Barry theorized, finally giving in to the restlessness running through his body and taking off into a sprint, barely being able to enjoy the exhilarating feeling of running again before he was across town and right into the middle of Cisco’s underground workshop. “The kidnappers must want something else, but that doesn't mean they won't kill him when they get it.” 

“Is this you trying to ask me to look into where they’re keeping him?” Cisco questioned with a surprised eyebrow raised as he took the phone away from his ear and set it down near the gutted metal tube spilling over with wires sitting in front of the scientist, along with an array of tools and loose equipment. If Barry wasn’t mistaken it was one of Hartley’s sonic grenades he was tinkering with. The same sonic grenades the Miltary had confiscated. Barry knew he couldn't have been the only one going stir-crazy since being discharged, but Cisco had been smart enough not to inform the government about his ability to breach, allowing him easy access to anything he wanted, from this world or another. Cisco always had to be doing something with his hands, anything to keep him busy and his ideas flowing. It was a trait Barry had always admired about his best friend, especially right now.

“Maybe? I don't know. I feel like I should do something, he could die,” Barry replied warily, running a hand through his hair as he considered what would happen if he didn't get involved. “The guys who grabbed him have to be professionals, there's no way of knowing what they'll do if SWAT gets involved. I'm thinking if you can pin down his location I can be in and out with Snart before you finish telling me the address.” 

“I'll let Frosty and Cait know what's up while I track him down, have them set up the med room for him just in case.” Cisco was already abandoning his workbench and moving towards his computer as he spoke, typing out a message to the girls on his phone while he booted up his PC. “Want me to contact his team and let them in on the plan?”

“After. I don't want to take the chance if this is an inside job. I want Snart safe before we bring outsiders in on this.” Barry responded, knowing in his gut that the only thing they could afford to worry about right now was making sure Snart made it out of this alive. 

“Yeah good call, can't have the man spearheading the ‘Metas are Human' movement dying before he can get the bill passed.” Cisco agreed with an approving nod, fingers dancing over the keyboard as he pulled up the satellite footage of the kidnapping. 

“Exactly. He's our only chance at keeping our civil rights, Cisco, we gotta save him.” He didn't mention he was their only chance of getting the team back together and their dishonorable discharges dropped. Lance still kept in contact with them all even if it was dangerous for her own career to be mixed up with their disgraced team at such an uneasy time like this. She had risked it though to tell them she had talked to Snart about their situation and he had vowed to do what he could to get them all reinstated and the investigation handled by an unbiased party. 

“I know man, I'm tracking them through CCTV cameras right now, shouldn't be much longer. You should suit up.” Cisco suggested, pressing a button on a small remote while nodding towards the now moving back wall where he kept the team’s secret emergency gear stashed. It seemed like Cisco was keeping a lot of secrets from the government down here. 

“Red or black?” Barry asked the scientist, trying not to get caught up in the nostalgia of seeing his team's suits lined up and on display again. It had only been three months since the team was disbanded but it felt like years to him. This felt like coming home, much more than arriving at Central City airport after 12 years away had. 

“Black. Should probably keep this one stealthy.” Cisco replied, turning his head to the side to meet Barry's eye. “Are we playing this like Karmana or Kota Baharu?” 

“Moscow,” Barry said with a soft hum, trembling fingers reaching for the reinforced tripolymer fabric waiting for him. It really had been too long, the anticipation was almost too much for him to handle. He's missed the comfort of his super suit. Of his team. His life. God, everything had gone to such shit so quickly that he never even got to prepare himself for never suiting up and leading a mission again. It had been stripped from him just like his team, his rank, and his reputation had. 

“Oh really?” Cisco curved his surprise quickly, his worry pushing forward instead. “You think he'll remember the call sign?” 

“He'll remember,” Barry replied confidently, not wasting another second and flashing into his suit. It was even better than he remembered, like a missing limb growing back, or maybe he had missed his old life more than he cared to admit. Now, he felt safe and powerful and needed. Three things that had been severely lacking in his life since being discharged.

“Let's hope you're right,” Cisco muttered before glancing down at his phone and smirking in triumph. “I've got the location and Cait is almost ready. It's showtime, Lieutenant Flash.” 

“Don't call me that man. I'm not your lieutenant anymore.” Barry said with a shake of his head, brushing off Cisco's quick reply. 

“The government may have royally fucked us all over and disbanded the team, but that doesn't mean I lost respect for the rank you earned dude.”

“Whatever, can you just give me the address please? We have a Congressman to save.” Barry pulled his cowl up, letting it settle into place and feeling his shoulders drop down, all the tension he was carrying leaving him at once. There was no better feeling than using his powers to save someone, and now after months of moping around his shoebox apartment and his mind-numbing third-shift security gig, having to refrain from using his speed, he was going to get to use it to save Leonard Snart. He knew the ‘Oh shit, I’m going to meet Leonard Snart!’ freak out he would no doubt have later would be embarrassing and long, but it would mean Snart would be alive and that was more than enough for Barry to look forward to making a fool of himself in the future.  

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Cisco winced at the latest text that popped up, shooting Barry a constipated smile. “Hopefully he's like really grateful you’re risking it all right now to save his ass and can keep you from getting arrested for doing it. Frost says they know you're active. APB is about to go out. Waller is pissed.” 

“Better make this good then, I'm too pretty for prison.” Barry couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face as Cisco finally rattled off the address to him, offering him a lazy salute that a year ago would have gotten him kitchen duty for two weeks. Now it just earned him a good-natured laugh.  

“Good luck, Lieutenant,” Cisco said with an encouraging pat on the back, letting out a small laugh to himself when Barry took off just as quickly as he had appeared. “Something tells me you're going to need it.”

[thatsatricky1]

𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐛𝐢𝐞 | l.jn smau

Chapter five = Hot privileges revoked

Y/n knew just by the address alone that it wasn’t a good idea to give Jaemin his bag tonight. Not just from a gut feeling but by the fact this very wealthy guy who comes from old money had asked to meet her downtown, he’d tried bringing her to some stuck up cafe only yesterday so this just all smelled like a walking disaster waiting to happen.

But on the other hand she had to keep civil with Jaemin, they had an assignment to finish after all and she’d be damned if she let one little thing like this stop them from completing an important assignment that was worth one fourth of their grading this year in human resources.

Y/n knew she was overthinking it, surely not giving him his bag today wouldn’t have caused any problems with the assignment but she also wasn’t going to risk it. It’s hard enough getting into Neo T University with a scholarship, if her grades went below a high B she’d be in trouble. She’d only started at Neo Technology and wasn’t about to be kicked to the curb in her first month.

Realistically she’d already thought over every possibility of why Jaemin would need tape for his hands. But the only one that made the most sense was medical. Hand tape from what she did know about it could be used for two things. Prevent injuries or prevent even more damage to an already injured area.

No, she didn’t snoop around his bag because not only would that invade his privacy but because she didn’t want to know what else a stuck up, wealthy guy in his twenties decided was important to be kept in his bag.

Getting to the address didn’t take too long, Jaemin had been right on the fact it wasn’t very far from her place. But getting closer and closer she noticed it was just a normal building with loud music emanating from the place, the bass boosted as per usual with their generation.

It must have been some closed off club to wealthy young adults with too much time on their hands. Which wasn’t uncommon, she’d heard of them before. Pulling out her phone she shot Jaemin a quick test while shifting his bag straps that was hanging off one of her shoulders.

Pocketing her phone she only looked up when she heard footsteps approaching. She had to admit Jaemin was wearing pretty casual clothes compared to the high end brand clothing she’d usually seen him wearing around campus. If she didn’t know who he was she’d actually think he passed as an average young adult.

“Here.” She didn’t say much not thinking a full conversation was needed, pulling the bag strap off her shoulder moving it outwards towards Jaemin when he got close enough.

“Again you're a lifesaver.” He replied with a grin, taking the bag and slinging it over his shoulder this time.

“I don’t even want to know.” She gestured towards the building with her hand and back at the bag.

“Good idea. It’s nothing too bad though.” He reassured, yet Y/n wasn’t dumb enough to believe that considering who he was, I mean he was friends with Donghyuck so that was enough for her to know whatever was happening in that building wasn’t meeting every law correctly, she could only hope it was just some club.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that really you.”

That voice, you always could tell where Donghyuck was. Hearing him before seeing him. Donghyuck wrapping an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder only seconds later flashing Y/n a large smile that could only be described as up to no good, as per usual.

“Don’t get too excited, she was just dropping off my bag.” Jaemin all but shut down any attempt Donghyuck had at causing grief.

“Not even going to stay for a bit?” Donghyuck offered, tilting his head back in the direction of the building.

“I’ll pass.” Y/n denied straight away, not realising just how safe her decision had been.

Donghyuck, ever the one for dramatic expressionism, let out a long sigh nodding regardless to her decision.

“I think you should stay for a while, have a look around.” A new voice entered the conversation. Three heads glancing in his direction.

Jeno standing there with his arms crossed watching the current trio loitering in the carpark. Jeno’s jaw clenched tightly afterwards as if to hold back from saying regrettable words. Jaemin watched him closely, understanding that expression on his face, he’d been close friends with Jeno long enough.

“Again I’ll pass.”

“Not even a little curious?” Jeno asked out, letting his arms drop from their crossed position in favour of walking closer.

“Honestly not in the slightest.” Y/n was quick to respond even if she was curious what the three were doing.

“Five minutes, you might like it in there.” Jeno shot back as soon as she finished speaking, trying to not give her a second to really decide about it and just do it.

For a guy who’d been staring holes into the side of her head on her first day at Neo Tech, he was pretty persistent in wanting her to go into that building and warning bells were ringing in her head.

“She doesn’t want to, Lee, drop it.” Jaemin was quick to shut down whatever was going on, casting a look at him.

Y/n didn’t get why Jaemin called Jeno by that name but she assumed it was just a nickname even if during school the boys only referred to each other with their proper names. Pretty shitty creativity to nickname someone after their last name though.

“Lee!” A voice yelled from the building's now open door, letting out streams of red hued lighting. The figure hard to make out.

Apparently Jeno was being called over as he looked toward s the figure making a hand gesture before turning back.

“Next time you show up here, don’t be prissy, walk in.” Jeno stated bluntly towards Y/n before walking towards the building.

“The fuck did I do wrong?” Y/n muttered watching him leave.

“Well that was both interesting and boring.” Donghyuck clapped his hands giving the two a large grin before patting Jaemin’s shoulder.

“See you tomorrow at school Y/n and if you forget your laptop there’s always a seat next to me, but preferably you can also sit on top of me.” Donghyuck shamelessly spoke, waving as he moved to drag Jaemin backwards towards the building.

“Thanks again!” Jaemin offered her a half assed second thank you as he got dragged towards the building. Y/n only gave him a nod before moving to leave the sketchy area herself, not entering sure what the fuck just happened.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Y’all I swear Jeno has a personality 🙏 lol just you wait and see 👀

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @strrykais @chenlesfavorite @dudekiss3r @strawberrysavi @nislost @polarisjisung @nattan127 @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun @bluedbliss @haechansbbg @officiallyjaehyuns @bunnychui @catpjimin @stqrgr7 @jaeveil @flamingi

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Current list of my TMNT Fanfics

✅ next to a fic means that it is complete

⏳ next to a fic means it is still being worked on

🔁 next to a fic means it will never be "finished" because it does not require completion (drabble collections, etc.)

I'm dividing these into two sections: fics in my 1970s AU iteration, and everything else.

1970s TMNT AU:

A TMNT Cookbook 🔁

Presented by Michelangelo, King of the Kitchen -- A collection of TMNT-inspired recipes and the very short stories behind them

Rating / Genre: G / Food & Cooking

Size: 5/? chapters (~2,140 words so far)

Notes: Ties into my 1970s AU, but works for just about any version

Duck And Cover ✅

January 28, 1977 -- When April O'Neil bought the building where she had spent her early childhood, she knew it was going to be a challenge fixing it up... but she never imagined that challenge would involve uncovering both evidence of the old owner's Cold War paranoia and a group of unusual "tenants" living twenty feet below her new property.

Rating / Genre: G / General

Size: 3/3 chapters (~13,800 words)

Notes: The first story in my 70s Au... centers around how April meets the Turtles

Other TMNT Fics:

A Cup Of Good Cheer ️✅

April is afraid that she got Donnie the wrong Christmas gift this year, but Leo tries to convince her otherwise.

Rating / Genre: G / Holiday, family, gen

Size: 1/1 chapters (~3,400 words)

Notes: Autistic Donnie vibes

All The Time In The World ✅

All Donatello wanted was a little more time to think…

Rating / Genre: T / Drama

Size: 8/8 chapters (~5,950 words)

Notes / Warnings: 2003 Universe; explosions, peril, guns, injuries

Displaced ️✅

An unprepared Donatello ends up on a Greyhound Bus to Springfield, Massachusetts

Rating / Genre: soft T / Mild drama, road trip, gen

Size: 6/6 chapters (~18,500 words)

Notes / Warnings: This was my first TMNT fic, which I originally posted some 25 years ago. It was written even earlier, though, right after the 1990s movies came out // Blood, guns, mild peril

Fleeting Thoughts 🔁

A collection of 100-word TMNT drabbles

Rating / Genre: G / Various, gen

Size: 10/? chapters (1000 words so far)

Notes: I know it is hotly debated what the length of a drabble should be, but I was always firmly in the 100-word camp.

Just Breathe ️✅

Raphael has a frightening encounter on a chilly winter night.

Rating / Genre: G / Gen, mystery

Size: 1/1 chapter (~1,500 words)

Notes: Fits pretty much every iteration / mentions of suffocation

Midnight On The High Bridge ️✅

The High Bridge between Manhattan and the Bronx has always been one of Michelangelo's favorite places to go for a late night ride on his board; but on this cloudy evening, he finds more than just fresh air and freedom high above the Harlem River.

Rating / Genre: G / M/F, Meet-cute

Size: 3/3 chapters (~8,100 words)

Notes: Brings Oyuki into the 2007 universe; takes place a year after the events of the movie

Passage ️✅

Leonardo has an appointment with death.

Rating / Genre: T / Drama, supernatural

Size: 12/12 chapters (~16,000 words)

Notes / Warnings: Originally written back in the early 2000s // Death and dying, gore, blood, mentions of religion

Red Dust ️✅

I had a dream last night. It was a long, restless, wandering dream.

Rating / Genre: G / Drama, poetry, gen

Size: 1/1 chapter (~700 words)

Notes / Warnings: Donatello-centric, Post SAINW, originally written and posted back in 2007 // mentions of death and dying

Requiescat ️✅

Leonardo died today.

Rating / Genre: G / Drama, grief, poetry, gen

Size: 1/1 chapter (180 words)

Notes / Warnings: Written a couple decades ago // Death and dying

Second Time Around ⏳

Two years after the defeat and banishment of Krang and Shredder, the Turtles and their human friends now have different, more personal challenges to overcome -- challenges that are made all the more difficult to deal with when Baxter Stockman and Karai pull them into a conflict that involves disentangling the complexities time itself.

Rating / Genre: T / Script, gen

Size: 19/? chapters (~28,000 words so far)

Notes / Warnings : A screenplay for a third Bayverse movie // Character death mentioned

Something Wicked ⏳

He felt movement all around him; something like the wind, though the air was dead still. He backed against the curved sewer wall… holding his breath as his eyes scanned the pitch blackness. The feeling grew closer, touching him… a whisper against his damp skin…

Rating / Genre: M / Horror, suspense, gen

Size: 21/? chapters (~64,200 words so far)

Notes / Warnings: Originally written and posted a couple decades ago, now being put under an extensive rewrite // Blood, gore, possible character death, whump, etc.

Still Waters ️✅

They say I'm the quiet one…

Rating / Genre: G / Introspective, poetry, gen

Size: 1/1 chapters (~200 words)

Notes: Also from over twenty years ago. A Donatello introspective.

The Bone Garden ️✅

You gathered up old papers, old photos… and you flipped through them, one by one, remembering…

Rating / Genre: G / Drama, grief, gen

Size: 1/1 chapters (400 words)

Notes / Warnings: Originally written on Halloween, 2007 for the 2k3 episode, Same As It Never Was, but now I feel that it applies to The Last Ronin, as well... or really, any story where one Turtle remained after the others had passed on // Mentions of death

The Scent Of Violets ️✅

Donnie and Mike are trapped underground with a memory

Rating / Genre: T / Drama, gen

Size: 1/1 chapter (~1,800 words)

Notes / Warnings: Written in the late 90s, early 2000s // Blood, severe injury

Three Million Reminders ✅

Master Leonardo and the other elders had told Casey about graveyards and cemeteries, but their descriptions had fallen far short of reality. In his life he had seen plenty of funeral pyres, lone burials, mass graves, vast tracts of scorched and scattered remains… but he had never been to a place like this, where families could come and visit the dead in peace, where mourning need not be rushed for the sake of escape.

Rating / Genre: G / drama / supernatural

Size: 3/3 chapters (~8,200 words)

Notes: Takes place post-ROTTMNT movie battle, as Leo lies unresponsive from his battle with the Krang

Under The Influence ️✅

Leo is under the influence of… something

Rating / Genre: G / humor, gen

Size: 4/4 chapters (400 words)

Notes: Just a silly little four-drabble story I wrote when I wasn't feeling so well a bunch of years back

When She Loved Me ️✅

She always said that I had his eyes. I don't know if I ever really believed her… after all, I never knew him. But I suppose they must be his. Her own eyes were deep and dark, almost black… reflective like mirrors. Mine are blue… light blue, like the sky...

Rating / Genre: G / Drama, gen

Size: 1/1 chapters (~2,500 words)

Notes / Warnings: Oyuki's backstory as I see it. Originally posted at FFnet back around 2000, though the fic is contemporary with the TMNTA Comics, setting its year at 1992 // Parental abandonment and neglect

[mahi-wayy]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑹𝑨𝑯𝑼𝑳 𝑴𝑰𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑨

• General • Romantic [both sfw and nsfw]

A/n : if you had made a request for headcanon and I am not doing it, it's just bcz I need to visit that character again and not bcz I like ignoring you or something.

I - GENERAL

abhi kya bolun mein- see this man makes me turn to my roots by being as annoying as he is.

no seriously he is such a brat.

I love him but also SIT. DOWN. RAHUL. PLEASE.

he gives me a headache by generating constant chaos, which he doesn't mean to like 80% of the time.

he just has a weird kind of luck.

growing up without parents under the care of his growing older than his parents would've have grandparents made build a shell around him.

why? well because it was always a very clear thing to him that his grandparents will leave him and he as a young boy didn't appreciate the fact and that disapproval grew into aloofness and self absorbed behavior.

has chances of being neurodivergent to be honest.

has prescribed medication for his anxiety.

went to therapist once during his "age of wedding is gone he will die alone" phase.

actually he was all set in a arranged marriage when he was entering mid twenties, he was almost engaged too but his grandfather father fell ill and the girl's parents decided to say no to them instead of postponing the engagement a week.

started brushing off the matter of wedding from that.

isn't really found of sweets per say.

he eats less too.

fell sick after the "greeting" food meenamma's family fed him because they made him eat too much.

he has some issues saying no, especially to older ladies.

can be impulsive and tantrum throwing.

the goa trip was more of a getaway for him because he was scared he would get depressed. will never admit it though.

loves spending time in nature but will die before saying that out loud.

he has scar on his waistline, which he got when he was in his late teens, her grandma slipped and he ran into a shelf while rushing to her and had the nail coming out from the side scratch a cut of atleast like 3 inch long.

didn't even feel it until one of his friends pointed it out later in the day.

very protective of people he loves.

like to the levels of ignoring his pretty good self preservation skills.

he cannot cook anything other than sweets to save his life also DO NOT LEAVE HIM THE KITCHEN ALONE PLEASE.

he broke down properly about his grandfather's death post movie events when he went back to his grandmother and she was visibly worried about his injuries.

cried with his face in her lap for like 30 minutes before he narrated everything to the older lady and asked for forgiveness.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

avoids making the first move because he thinks he is too old.

will buys flowers and makes sweets for his partner.

rants to them about anything and everything.

playful pillow fights in the morning.

lazy mornings.

dances with them in the kitchen to imaginary music.

sleeps with his face in their neck while they are chest to chest.

NSFW

he is bratty switch.

makes a show out of being dom and stuff but is a soft dom or a whimpering sub.

listens very well once he settles in the dynamics.

degradation kink for sure.

but also a praise kink size of globe.

whimpers and screaming moans.

sensitive thighs and jawline.

------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah @ranisingnewyetagian @myvarya @toomanyfanficsbruh @harinishivaa @chaliyaaa @tumharisakhi @ramcharantitties

[the-s1lly-corner]

NEVER FEAR I HAVE A REQUEST TO QUENCH YOUR THIRST!!!!

Could be Platonic or Romantic Either way works. New Follower(Reader) of the lamb tries to befriend the Bishops who is also a somewhat reckless Adventurer.

-Anon

Follower!Bishops x new follower!reckless!reader

LETS FUCKING GO!!!! only doing the 4 bishops here mweheheheheh might snag this and do a narinder version later eheheheh characters: leshy, heket, kallamar, shamura notes: reader is GN, unspecified creature CWs: canon typical violence/injuries

LESHY

sometimes he can get behind your nature, given he was once a chaos god- in a way you both kind of build up off of each other with you being so... unpredictable

though that doesnt mean hes going to stand by and knowingly let you get hurt, if he can help it... keeps your attention on him to make sure you dont wander off

youre both often paired together to go out on missions together due to him being unable to see- you work as his eyes, and he uses his smell in order to seek out where resources are

this really goes for all of the bishops but youre one of the first people to befriend him after he joins the lamb's cult- if it weren't for you falling over and slamming your face on the ground, he wouldn't have given you his time... hes glad he didnt ignore you, he gets to rope you into some of the pranks he pulls around the cult to sow mischief and chaos

HEKET

slow burn friendship with you likely being under the impression youre both already friends- it almost gives off dog and cat dynamic vibes

you first really got her attention when you threw yourself into danger to go retrieve something she mentioned having some low level desire for- of course, coming back with various cuts and bruises scattered across your body

you did it simply to be nice, not because you felt the obligation to do it out of fear- she doesnt have her power or influence anymore

picks you up and yanks you out of the way of any traps while out on missions, low grumbles are sent your way as she wordlessly scolds you

you tend to try to spread the word that shes a sweetheart to others but no one is buying it due to her past and general attitude around everyone else

KALLAMAR

if youve got the balls to back up your recklessness, you unofficially become his guard dog; standing up for him when some of the other cult members give him flack or when he says something that he probably shouldnt have- anxiety be damned, that man still has an ego that still peaks out every now and then

youre the one whos always charging head first into danger during missions while he trails behind you out of harms way...

frets over you once you both return to camp, hes dabbing a wash cloth to your wounds as he scolds you for being so careless with yourself

if you return from a solo mission or outing and return with something for him- say, some crystals from anchordeep, hes going to be torn between wanting to get onto you for putting yourself in danger and wanting to just melt into the ground- you'd gotten the crystals because he missed his old temple and home

clings to you when you both dont have any work assigned for the day

SHAMURA

youre reckless, and they tend to be forgetful- you both have the capacity to get hurt in some way during a mission

youre more than willing to take any hits for them, often times leading to them pulling you to the side to gather yourself together

you both keep an eye on each other out of habit- you fear they might wander or get left behind, and they have the same worry

admires your energy, though, even if its so so different from their own

they help you reel it in if you ever become too much or nearly throw yourself into something thats far above your skill level

naturally you have some scars from your adventures, sometimes they will ask about them if youre open to talking- however theyre more than understanding if theres some you dont want to talk about

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Alright so the post about the idea of Delta being severely depressed and attempting su*cide by sneaking into a battle between the Stars and Nightmare, and tries to kill Nightmare by giving it his Whole Ass Everything has been living in my head rent free and makes me ask two questions.

1. If the "good ending" happened and everyone lived, how would Color and Epic react to Delta's attempt? (Especially knowing that Beta would have had to allow the body to die as well, meaning that the poor kid was ok with death?) How could they (Color and Epic) possibly attempt to cope with the fact that their best friend(s) was going to commit suicide and didn't want to tell anyone because they didn't want to be any more of a burden than they had to be, in their (Delta/Beta's) view?

2. If the "bad ending" happened, how would they react to his death?

(I was also thinking about how Zorox would be affected but then I decided it was too sad to put a dog through that lmao, so we're gonna leave him out of this one)

Zorox paws at delta’s bedroom door. sleeps in front of the door. will sleep on the bed if anyone opens the door, drags delta and beta’s old clothes out of the drawers and closet and whimpers when anyone tries to take them back (likely to clean them.) he whines all night at the closed door of delta’s workshop/garage.

whenever taken to their gravesites he just slumps down on the ground nearby and whines like hes been stabbed. He barks and panics whenever epic and color are gone too long and probably develops separation anxiety. he probably keeps trying to constantly linger around color and do specific things he only did for delta and beta (like lying on their lap or chest for deep pressure) and color suspects its because of the bravery soul he absorbed.

dogs cats and animals in general are said to be sensitive to the supernatural and the like. perhaps he sense the bits of colors bravery soul and its familiar.

can see a scene where zorox can sense epics pain and grief despite how epics constantly doing everything to pretend that hes not in as much pain as he is. hes constantly making his jokes and memes and trying to focus on avoiding the topic and changing the subject and avoiding sleep more often than not and forgetting to eat.

and zorox keeps doing his old alerts that he used to do for beta and delta for epic and color now and he keeps pushing and pushing epic to eat or sit or drink and color may be too simply because he shifted gears into full caretaker mode and is trying to avoid feeling the anguish—both his and epics—that he can feel building in his chest.

and I don’t maybe there’s a scene like from mockingjay, the one with Katniss and buttercup. This scene. with zorox and either color or epic.

as for if delta and beta survived (especially if they’re injured) I feel like colors gonna immediately turn on that therapist/mother henning instinct. i feel like hed be treating their injuries and hed have tears in his eye because the thought of how much pain they must’ve been in to make that decision, how he “didn’t notice,” is fucking painful.

and i feel like beta and delta are going to feel so guilty and ashamed and constantly avoiding looking color in the eye. (honestly i like to think that colors just the type of person no one really likes making or watching or listening to him cry (except for nightmare) especially delta and epic and beta.

especially not in this situation, where he could’ve lost two more friends to the likes of nightmare. fighting and struggling to save and protect killer from him was traumatic and stressful on its own. the thought of losing anyone else to nightmare is terrifying and makes him so angry.)

i feel like delta and beta might have an easier time meeting epics eye, if only because he has that ability to make people laugh. and because they dont have the added feeling of guilt of having made him cry (they did epic just knows how to hide it).

epic would probably try to hide any pain from this under a joke and a meme, expressing his worry and concern and care of course.

but i feel like he wouldn’t allow the two to see how deeply it effected him and colors probably the one who’s aware of it and holds him whenever he allows himself a cry or wants to have a serious talk about it. (please feel free to chime in and add more onto this i feel like my brain stuttered to a stop near the end 🙏)

(side note but do yall think killer would call color pretty and beautiful whenever he cries. and like when hes wiping away colors tears and probably nuzzles or kisses his cheeks. like hes a sadistic little freak would he find colors crying pretty in certain situations.)

[katedrakeohd]

Heartstopper (part3)

@kingliamappreciationweek

@tessa-liam @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

@kingliam2019

King Liam appreciation week 2024

Catch up with this story:

Part 1 / Part 2

Rated: PG - swearing, hospital scenes, adult situations

Cast: Drake Walker, King Nicholas, Kate Darling (MC), other characters.

-_-_-👑_-_-_

Constable Jim Turner walked through the sliding doors of the Capital General Emergency room. It had been an hour since the accident had been cleared of victims, and he was hoping to follow up with Drake Walker. Mr. Walker had fled the scene before Turner could finish his questions. He still didn't know the name of the female passenger either. The words: bodyguard, abduction, and royal were underlined on his notepad and warranted a closer investigation.

He walked up to the Nurses Station and the nurse behind the counter looked up from the clipboard she was writing on.

"How can I help you officer...?"

"Turner, Jim Turner with the Capital Police Department. I'm investigating a car accident. There were three victims in the wreck, and another man with secondary smoke inhalation injuries. I was told they were brought here."

The Nurse set her patient clipboard aside and then picked up another one listing the emergency admissions for that evening. She slid her finger down the page, "Two of the passengers arrived D.O.A. , the female unknown is in Curtain Three, and the man who walked in on his own is in Curtain Four. If you give me a moment I can take you to see them."

Turner shook his head, "No need to show me the DOAs, they were identified at the scene. The guy who walked in on his own is who I'd really like to see."

The Nurse left her station and then led Turner down into a ward with curtained off sections with beds in them. He was surprised to see other burn victims. He asked the nurse quietly, "Was there a house fire or something?"

She nodded, "An apartment building caught fire. Most of the people in this area are being treated for smoke inhalation and minor burns."

They passed Curtain Three and Turner saw a nurse and a doctor tending to the female he saw at the accident scene. He couldn't see much of her because people were leaning over to administer care, but he heard the hiss of the oxygen machine and saw that her face was bandaged. Poor girl, you're lucky that Walker guy showed up in time.

The nurse pulled back the curtain at bed number three. "Here he is. Be aware that he's been heavily medicated, and is on oxygen. He might not be able to speak much."

Drake opened his eyes when he heard the curtain open. He wasn't sure what medication he was on, but he knew it made him feel weird. He wasn't in any pain, but his head swam like he was drunk. The nebulizer mask he was wearing periodically puffed a medicine that he couldn't help but breathe in with the oxygen. It was slightly annoying, but at least he could breathe more easily now that the tightness in his chest was gone. But damn his mouth and throat felt as dry as an old sock.

He blinked and tried to focus on the people who were now staring at him from the foot of his hospital bed. He recognized the pretty blonde nurse he'd encountered when he first entered the emergency room. The other person was a man in a uniform. He closed his eyes again, as an overwhelming dizziness overtook him. Sorry officer, I didn't mean to drink and drive...I promise.

The blonde nurse indicated to Drake, "He's all yours. If he tries to get out of bed just gently set him right. In the beginning before his sedation took hold he kept trying to go over to see the girl next door. The poor thing, he would be more harm to her than help at the moment. The medicine has probably made him more docile by now. If he gives you any trouble just push the red call button on the wall behind his bed and I'll send help."

Turner nodded, "Understood, thanks..."

"Tiffany," she answered with a smile, holding up the ID batch that dangled from a lanyard around her neck.

"I'll try to keep my visit as brief as possible."

She left him to go back to the Nurses desk.

Officer Turner picked Drake's suit jacket up off the chair and laid it across his lap as he sat down. He felt the weight of various objects in the pockets. He presumed they would be his phone, wallet and car keys. He looked at the various monitors that were keeping track of Drake's condition. There weren't any indications that he was in immediate distress, and the blips and numbers seemed to be in a normal range as far as he could tell.

The cellphone vibrated within Drake's jacket. The sound filtered through the drowsy haze that clouded his mind and he slowly regained consciousness. "Do you want me to answer that for you?", came a voice to his left.

Drake opened his eyes at hearing the unfamiliar voice, who was that?

He blinked and tried to focus. He tugged the mask away from his face, "No, and who the fuck are you?" He whispered hoarsely.

"Officer Turner, we met briefly at the accident scene. I have some more questions."

Drake vaguely remembered Turner as being the dumbass who had tried to accuse him of running the SUV that he was following off the road.

He glared at him as best he could, although he wasn't sure how menacing an expression he could make with an oxygen mask hanging off his chin.

Drake tried to swallow and clear the cotton mouth feeling he was going through, he coughed and a gob of mucus came up. "Are you still trying to accuse me of something?" He graveled around it.

"No, but our investigation is ongoing. Since you're claiming to be her bodyguard, can you tell me her name by any chance?"

"I could, but I won't." Drake put his mask back on.

His phone buzzed again in his pocket, probably the reminder to check his message. "Could be important. Want me to hand it to you?" Turner asked.

Drake shook his head, but then instantly regretted it as the room tilted. He squeezed his eyes shut and held the mask tight against his face and took deep breaths. His hand shook as he dropped it back down on his lap. He rested his head back against the pillow again and waited for the dizziness to subside.

Officer Turner checked the time, he had to get back on patrol and Walker wasn't willing to give him answers. He sighed and then got up from the chair. He gave Drake his jacket, laying it on his lap. At least that way he could check his messages.

If the bodyguard isn't going to be much help, then I guess I'll have to contact the King's Royal guard and get information that way.

..

King Nicholas looked down at the cheap cellphone in his hand. It wasn't his personal phone, because he knew that Bastien and his men could track it. This device had been acquired for temporary and anonymous use from a close friend.

There had been a large turnover in the security guards at the Palace since they had left Applewood during the social season. Nicholas had been too busy doing news interviews, and attending other social engagements related to his approaching Coronation to keep up with his regular Sunday security briefings with Bastien. Someone had authorized the hiring of new guards to replace those loyal to Constantine. Presumably, so Nicholas could have a younger and freshly trained crew going forward. But he hadn't personally met each new candidate and knew nothing about their past or politics. How could he trust a bunch of strangers to protect him and his new family?

Something that Bastien had said was also raising personal alarm bells. Bastien had insisted that the deportation of Kate had been an order passed down by Constantine. Nicholas knew this couldn't be true because his father had been non-verbal for weeks. Since their stay at Applewood Constantine's condition had taken a turn for the worse. The former King has lung cancer and was being kept in a medically induced coma in a private wing of the Palace. Palliative care nurses were monitoring his condition around the clock, and it was predicted that he only had a matter of days left.

Either Bastien was lying, or someone else was trying to influence the crown and make decisions for him. Nicholas couldn't let that happen.

Drake hadn't responded yet to his text messages. He sounded terrible during their last conversation, and Nicholas hoped he was under treatment at the hospital. Nicholas knew how stubborn he could be about accepting help. Drake had his nose broken once, during a training exercise, by one of the guard candidates. He had been more pissed off than hurt and it wasn't until the blood started to choke him that he relented and tapped out of the fight to get medical attention.

Nicholas sent another message to his friend as he impatiently paced back and forth across his room.

Drake? Please respond.

..

At the hospital Drake listened to the beep and blip of the various medical machines around him. With only curtains separating each patient bed from the next, it was hardly a quiet place to get some rest. He knew that Kate was only a couple of curtains away to his right, and it bothered him that he couldn't see or talk to her. He'd overheard the medical staff talking about various aspects of her condition. From what he could figure out, she was being treated for severe smoke inhalation, and kept sedated. If he saw the blonde nurse again he was going to ask for more information.

He felt his phone vibrate in his lap. Blinking his eyes open again he was surprised to see that the officer had left. Fishing around inside his jacket with his left hand, he found his phone. On his right hand there was an IV attached, and a heart beat monitor was clamped to his finger. He didn't want to set off any alarms so he fumbled through unlocking his phone with his left hand and the use of his right thumb. There were several messages from an unknown number.

With a frown he juggled with his phone and pulled the oxygen mask down under his chin.

18059378: What's your status? We need to meet and talk.

18059378: Drake? How is she?

18059378: Drake? Please respond.

Shit, this had to be Nicholas. But why is the phone number different?

Drake: I'm at the hospital, being treated for smoke damage. Not in any condition to leave yet. Sorry.

18059378: And Kate?

Drake: She's worse off than me, as far as I can tell. But stable. She's sedated I think. What's with the new phone number?

18059378: I have to be careful. If we could only talk privately in person I could explain everything.

Nothing like being vague, Your Majesty.

Drake: I'm going to ask the nurse how soon I can leave. And have the hospital contact me if Kate's condition changes. I'll list myself as her next of kin if I have to.

18059378: Thanks, Drake. I don't know what I'd do without you. Call me at this number as soon as you're released. But do it outside so that we can't be overheard.

Drake: Will do. Goodnight..Sir.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Dead on Arrival

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: In some hospitals, CPR is done to a patient despite them being declared dead on arrival. This is a courtesy to the family. The doctor doesn't expect the scream when they lay down the defibrillator paddles on the boy's chest (from @eyesofcrows), Danny gets caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Can he diffuse the situation without revealing his powers? (@wingedflight), and For some reason someone uses defibrillators on Danny, the feeling is all too familiar to him (@phantomphangphucker)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for blood, injury, violence, flashbacks, minor dissociation, hospitals, and near-death experiences]

Daniel Fenton was dead on arrival. Everyone there when he was brought to Amity Park General Hospital knew that. No pulse, no breathing, already cool to the touch. But his parents were inconsolable, desperate. They demanded something be done. So the doctor called for a defibrillator and started chest compressions, just for the parents' peace of mind. They'd just lost their fourteen-year-old son. It was the least the doctors could do to extend them this courtesy.

When the nurse came in with the defibrillator, they cut away the boy's shirt to press the paddles to his bare skin, ignoring the slick blood covering every inch of skin. They all knew nothing would come of this, that it was more or less for show, but they did it anyway. The nurse set the charge.

"Clear," warned the doctor before administrating the shock.

None of them were expecting the corpse to scream. A visceral, bone-chilling scream. A scream that rattled the windows, that made the lights in the whole hospital flicker with the force of it. A scream like the auditory incarnation of pain itself.

The doctors and nurses all slammed their hands against their ears, desperately trying to block out the sound, to no avail. It was the most horrible thing they'd ever heard in their lives. But it meant one thing. Danny Fenton was alive after all.

—

It was rare for Danny to encounter trouble with humans. He was a ghost hero, after all, so he mostly dealt with ghosts causing trouble. There were a few exceptions, like Freakshow, and sometimes Vlad, but even the exceptions were at least ghost-adjacent. These guys weren't.

They were one hundred percent human, committing a one hundred percent human crime. Two in the bank lobby, two more cracking the safe. Danny had just been coming to cash a birthday check when they showed up waving guns around and demanded everybody get down on the floor. It wouldn't have been fair for Danny to go ghost to fight a bunch of bank robbers, but of course, they were pointing guns at civilians, and he wasn't about to let that slide, either.

"That's it, nobody's gotta be a hero," one of the robbers said, and that sounded like a cue if ever Danny had heard one, because there was no way he was about to let that happen.

"Excuse me," he said, standing up to get their attention entirely on him. Immediately both the robbers in the reception area had their guns trained on him. It was preferable to having those things aimed at regular humans, not to mention an unfortunately familiar position for Danny to be in, so he had no trouble remaining calm as he raised his arms to show them he couldn't fight back.

"Si'down, kid," barked one of the robbers.

"I was just wondering if this is really the best use of your time," Danny said casually, staying on his feet, keeping the robbers' focus all on him. "I mean, surely you have better things to do than rot in prison, right?"

"There'll be no prison, 'cause we won't get caught!" the other robber said.

"Sure you won't," Danny said sardonically. "Except, you're not wearing masks, and this place is full of cameras." Idiots. Danny's presence might've given them a fighting chance, that is, if every public building in Amity Park hadn't made the switch to Fenton Spook-Proof Security Cameras about a year ago. "So I have to wonder what exactly your plan is here? Are you gonna get radical plastic surgery with the money you steal?"

The one closest to Danny smirked. "Robbie hacked the cameras before we came in, ain't that right, Robbie?"

"Uh... I thought Nick was supposed to do that," said the one standing by the teller's desk.

"What?!" said the first guy. "That was your job!"

"I don't know how to hack cameras, Jack." Robbie responded.

"Jack, Nick, and Robbie, huh?" Danny repeated. "Robbie the robber? Who's your fourth guy, Steal?"

"Melvin," Robbie said, "but his last name is Steel. How'd you know that?"

"And what's your last name?" Danny asked.

"Johnson, but I don't see what that has to do with anyth—"

"Robbie you fuckin' moron!" Jack groaned. "Now he knows our names and our faces!"

"Oh, shoot!" Robbie lowered his gun to slap a hand over his mouth.

"That's not a bad idea," Jack said, putting on a wicked grin and leveling his gun at Danny, whose eyes widened. "He can't talk if he's dead."

"Wait!" Danny shouted, but he didn't have time to say anything else before Jack shot several rounds into his gut and he collapsed backwards onto the floor.

Dark red bloomed across Danny's shirt. It stung a little, but it wasn't so bad, actually. Not as bad as an ecto-blast, but worse than a paper cut, he decided. Although, that could've just been because his brain hadn't caught up with the injury yet. His extremities were already loosing feeling as blood pumped out of the holes in his abdomen and pooled around him. It was a shame. Danny really liked this shirt, and now it was completely ruined.

He knew he'd bleed out before the police arrived, even though the robbers had failed to prevent the teller from tripping the silent alarm. He'd probably be okay in the long run, but he'd pass out for a bit while his body healed. All Danny could do was hope these idiots didn't realize that everyone else in the bank had also heard their names, and could therefore identify them just as well as Danny could. As long as he was the only one who got shot, everything was okay. That was his last thought before he lost consciousness from the blood loss.

The next thing Danny knew, was the all too familiar sensation of electricity shooting through his heart. It wasn't as strong as the last time, but it reminded him of it, of the portal accident, and the memory alone made it feel much much worse. The phantom pains that tore through him as he recalled the worst experience of his life increased the pain a thousand fold.

A scream ripped from his throat.

Whatever was happening in that moment didn't exist to him.

He had no idea where he was, or how he'd been zapped, or what else, or who else was around him.

All he could see was green.

All he could feel was a burning pain lighting up every nerve in his body, ionizing his atoms, rearranging his molecules.

The smell of ozone and charred meat filled his nose.

The metallic taste of blood overtook his mouth as electricity arced between his teeth.

His screams would echo in his head for months to come, would haunt his dreams as long as he haunted the Earth, perhaps longer.

It was overwhelming.

He was overwhelmed.

After a lifetime and a moment, the pain started to fade; the sensations ebbed. Everything was still. Everything was quiet, but for the ringing in his ear drums.

Danny felt floaty and faraway. He fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms to ground himself, and pushed himself into a sitting position. Gradually, he became more aware of his surroundings.

He was in a hospital room. It smelled like antiseptic and blood. The light was out. Shattered glass glinted on the countertop. The hospital bed was thin but soft under his hands. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

No one seemed to be there until Danny looked down. A doctor, two nurses, and Danny's parents were all unconscious on the floor, blood dripping slowly from their ears. Alarmed, Danny checked to see if they were alive, and sighed in relief when they were.

He'd done this.

It was all his fault.

[hyuuukais]

.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general, blood/injury, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S)

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN • HERE COMES THE BRIDE (2k)

It's a beautiful venue, really, all decked out in gorgeous flowers leading you down the aisle to the love of your life. You had decided to go with a beach wedding, the outdoors a relaxing atmosphere and the beach, a fun aspect. At least, that's what you pitched to Yeonjun. Another reason was it's out in the open, therefore no closed doors. The only time you'd be inside a building would be before you left, getting ready elsewhere with Yeji and being picked up by Hyunjin.

Little did Yeonjun know you were never planning on making it there, escaping at the last minute in your wedding dress to a car rental one town over. Hyunjin helped put your things into the rental from his trunk, wishing you good luck with your new life. He'd snuck his information into your bag in case you needed someone, but you shredded the paper as soon as you found it. This was a fresh start, no one and nothing from your old life to bring you back to it or come back to you. Only memories and old wounds would haunt you now.

However, this was not the case. Your old life found a way to seep back in ways you never expected, ways you still fail to understand. So now you get into Hyunjin's car and tell him new instructions; you're going to the venue, determined to get this right. You weren't doing this again, letting him win and be his forever. No, you were going to get married and be happy and live and love again.

He's already standing at the end with his best man, a childhood friend you never really got to know. Sometimes you would wonder if he was ever so bad to him as he was to you, wishing you could take him away from all the pain. But you don't know him, and he could be just as bad. The seats lined up on either side of the aisle are empty for the most part, only a few people right at the front.

You recognize his brown, curly hair before anything else, your heart aching in your chest. As far as you know, you're the only one other than Yeonjun who knows what's going on. Chan must be here for the laughs, for Yeonjun to see him and know what you're missing because of him. Beside him is Jeongin, and as you pass him you notice a trickle of dark red running down his neck from his ear, but he doesn't say anything and you act like you don't notice. He avoids your eyes, but the way his jaw is clenched is telling.

Music plays loudly as you make your way to the front, stopping in front of Yeonjun. Yeji stands close to your side as your maid of honour, wearing a lovely silk lilac dress. She's more nervous than you it seems, a strange sense of calm washing over your body as you look directly into Yeonjun's eyes. Looking you up and down, he smirks, a glint in his eye, and you know he thinks he's already got this in the bag.

"Shall we begin?" The officiator walks forward.

"Ye-"

"No," you cut Yeonjun off. "There's someone missing."

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at you, but you play innocent, looking down the aisle. Any minute now, he should be here. You know he'll be here. Another minute passes and you can tell Yeonjun is growing impatient, the mask of a loving partner slowly slipping as you make him wait. Your chest tightens when his hand raises, but he only rakes his fingers through his hair.

"Whoever it is clearly isn't showing up," he snaps suddenly, earning a strange look from Hyunjin. "I mean, we can wait a little longer, but we shouldn't hold off so long for one person. The sooner I can marry you, the better."

He clasps your hands together, smiling down at you.

"You're right," you smile back. "We should start."

The officiate begins, looking uncomfortably between you two. When Yeonjun says his vows, you pretend to be grateful, even forcing out a few tears. It's all bullshit, everything he says. You can't wait any longer.

"I won't marry you," you announce.

"What?" Yeonjun's nostrils flare and his eyes narrow further.

"You have caused me so much pain, and I'm done." You step back, creating some distance between you as you recite your vows. "I have lived the past year and a half in fear of you finding me, of you bringing me down. Now I'm back here, and I won't let that happen again. You might think I'm just a scared little girl, but what you don't realize is that everything you've done leading up to this has only pissed me off."

He tries to grab you when you back up more, but Chan is out of his seat in the blink of an eye. Trapped in his arms, Yeonjun thrashes, trying to get to you. Chan is stronger, grip tight around Yeonjun's upper torso and arms.

"Min, Jeongin, now!" You hope they remember what to do.

A familiar face runs down the aisle, taking Chan's place in holding Yeonjun back. Minho struggles to keep ahold of him at first, hands slipping as they switch positions. Before Yeonjun can advance on you, Chan's fist is flying, knocking Yeonjun backward into Minho's arms.

Jeongin's chin falls to his chest, eyes open just enough to see the whites. Dark red blood gushes from his nose at the same time you hear Yeonjun cry out, the same dark red spurting out of a hole in his neck. Another appears soon after, then again on the other side. The whole time he's crying out, Chan is at your side, looking you over.

"I'm okay," you say, holding his face. "I'm okay."

Placing a hand on his chest, you take a silver band from Yeji, and the world around you fades. It's just you and Chan, staring into each other's eyes as your hands find one another. You're about to slip the ring onto him, but he grabs your hand before you can.

"We need to do this right," he says, cupping your face.

"We don't have time-"

"Then we make time." He's brushing hair out of your face, eyes flickering down to your lips.

"This might not work," you whisper.

"It will, I know it will."

"How can you be so sure?" Your free hand holds his shoulder, scared to let go.

"Because Y/n." Chan smiles, wide and blinding. "Because I love you, so, so much. You created me, gave me life, and although I know you think I only love you because of that, it's not true. If there's one thing I can take away from Yeonjun, it's that I have the freedom to choose, and I choose you. And you should too."

Your vision blurs with tears as he takes both your hands in his.

"It's time, Y/n," he whispers. "Make your choice."

"I choose myself." And he smiles and nods, wiping your tears away right as they start to fall. "I choose to be free."

The silver band slips on perfectly, and all you can hear now is silence. No muffled yelling, no music, nothing. It's you and it's him and it's everything.

Until someone pulls you away, back into those dark rooms.

-

Darkness engulfs you, turning around in a slow circle until your eyes adjust and you recognize the light coming up at the edge of the room. Someone coughs behind you, a strangled, gurgling sound, and you're met with two bodies. One lies on the chair facing where you used to sit, head turned away in a messy puddle of red, and you know who it is. Lying on the ground face down is another man, the wire that used to connect you and Yeonjun stuck into his arm.

"Y/n," he croaks and you crouch down hesitantly. "Y/n."

He coughs again, and you realize there's no more water in the room when blood spatters out of his mouth and onto the floor. Carefully helping him onto his back, you gasp shakily at the sight of him. There's a large wound running down the length of his chest, white shirt turned a much darker shade, and the same colour covering the lower half of his face, dried around his nose and mouth. The wire is jammed into his arm, veins around it black.

"What did you do?" You place a hand on his cheek, tears threatening to spill over.

"He's gone," Jeongin chokes out. "He was using this to connect you, your souls, your very beings. If it was still in you when I ripped the wires out, it would have killed you too."

"But why did you connect yourself?"

"He needed something to keep him grounded, I think." Jeongin's eyes flutter for a moment, but he manages keeps them open. "If I didn't connect myself, he would have reached out and found something or someone else. This way-" His breath catches. "This way he's gone for good."

"But that's just this realm right?" You ask, desperation seeping into your words. "You were fine at the wedding. You'll be fine when I get out of here too, won't you?"

He shakes his head. "I was supposed to die a long time ago."

Tears finally fall, mixing with the blood by his head. His breathing is slow, eyes falling shut one last time, but a small smile graces his face.

"So, you and Chan?" He coughs. "Gonna make it through?"

"That's what you're concerned about?" You laugh and sob at the same time, crossing your legs and propping his head up gently into your lap. You brush your fingers through his hair with one hand, holding his face with the other. "I don't know what's going to happen now. I don't even know if he's gonna be there when I get out."

"He'll be there, I can still..." Jeongin takes a deep breath, voice rising in pitch. "Feel him. I can feel him."

Jeongin brings a shaky hand up to your own on his cheek and you hold back another sob. This kid who you couldn't save, this kid who deserved better than the life he was given, holding onto you in his final moments.

"Thank you for trying," he whispers. "Thank you."

"Jeongin?" A beat passes and he says nothing, the rise and fall of his chest coming to an end. "No, no Jeongin, no."

Your body hunches over him, cradling his head in your arms as you weep over his body, unmoving. All that fills the room are your sobs and the sound of you crying out to him, calling out his name and pleading the universe to bring him back. It takes a long time for you to finally detach from him, laying his head down with care. You can't leave him here, but you have no way to bring him with you either.

With a heavy heart, you start your way to the door, but stop when you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun's face as you pass the chairs. Approaching him, you take in the way his hair has fallen into his eyes and the wires dangling above him, marked with the blood of the boy on the ground. You note the way his eyes are half closed and the way one of his legs hangs off the chair. You don't know why you feel compelled to memorize every last detail of his face, but you do.

The same door you left through before is closed behind you, but when you open it this time there's no light. The path is dark, too dark, but you head down anyway. A strange dizziness washes over you hard, bringing you down to your knees. Someone catches you as you fall, but you're suddenly too drowsy to keep your eyes open, letting this feeling whisk you away.

-

Warm sun on your face, soft sheets entangle your legs. Your eyes are crusted shut, but you pry them open and stretch out in your bed. Slowly, you get up, head swimming. You wait for the feeling to go away, walking over to the window and opening the curtain. Below are bustling city streets, people with places to go filling the sidewalks. You rub your eyes, exiting your bedroom to start the kettle, sitting on the red chaise lounge as you wait for it to boil.

●

notes • i cried writing this lol. what do we think happened to chan?

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae @toplinelix @chansdoll @amaranth-writing @3rachachoo @linosjureumi @thebrownemo @tfshouldidohere @channie-143 @frogieeheart @kangaracharacha @skzswife @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @palindrome969 @laylasbunbunny @bloomingstay

TAGLIST CLOSED ^^^blue means i can't tag you

[maximwtf]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT. i saw you wanted to write an izzy x reader that had to do with swordfighting—what if the reader is one of olu and/or jim’s friends whom they stumbled upon again randomly either at sea or on land and they bring the reader back to join the crew. izzy’s skeptical at first, i can picture him saying something like “so we’re really just letting anyone on this ship now, are we?” but some time passes and they are getting attacked but the reader shows up and shows out with their AMAZING swordsmanship skills and izzy is blown away but also a little jealous haha. it takes him some time to finally get over his ego and do this, but he ends up asking for some lessons from the reader and so they start doing it a few times a week when everyone is asleep and while they’re dueling and practicing is the only time they really get to talk but they do talk while they’re doing so and they’re learning a lot about each other and then they gradually fall in love?? please feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it by any means, but i feel like you’d write it so well! i love your fics so much🫶

Izzy Hands x Reader

words: 4000

google docs pages: 8,5

Warnings: None, I don’t think. A minor injury, at most? 

opening: You bump into some old friends who offer you a new occupation. The first mate of the ship is sceptical of you, but his mind changes when he witnesses a sword fight you’re having. Izzy builds up the courage to ask for tutoring lessons, and there start the long hours of teaching him your knowledge. 

AN// Reader can be any gender, though I guess I’ve forgotten to mention in the previous fanfics that the pirate terminology is rather male based, since women weren’t allowed on ships. But feel free to ignore that as gender affirming and take it as just generic terms. Thank you so much for this request, I was dying to write something related to swords and Izzy !! I had a lot of fun with this, and I hope yall will enjoy it as well^^ ! (This became a little longer than intended, apologies for that :”D)

 “A victory and the reward”

A new ship had appeared near the shore of the Republic of Pirates, and those usually intrigued you. You hadn’t been on a vessel yourself for years now, but each time you saw a new ship appear it did bring back memories, so you would go and watch them. After your sailing days, you’d told yourself that a life at sea wasn’t for you. And you started believing that after surviving the latest sinking of a ship you’d been on. But that might have been a lie, knowing you had regretted the decision almost every day after. 

Now, this new ship laid upon your eyes. In no time at all a jolly boat started making distance from the main vessel, making its way towards the shore. You made sure to stay hidden enough that your staring wasn’t obvious. You could never know who you’d come across with foreign ships. 

The men left the boat, spreading across the shore and towards the more urban area of the Republic. Though, two of them stayed behind, and at least to you it was rather clear they’d done it on purpose. Being in your thoughts, you hadn’t even realised that one of them had noticed you, surreptitiously pointing your presence out to their friend. You weren’t armed but they most certainly were, so running away straight after being pointed out wasn’t going to end well for you.

They approached you, but the closer they came the more familiar their faces became. One of them being more familiar to you than the other, but you’d seen them both before. The pair stopped at a safe distance, but by the way they looked they must have been feeling the same way as you. Confused. “Jim? Olu…?” You asked carefully, voice a little lost as you stared at the pair. You’d met Jim multiple years ago, when they were only at the beginning of their ‘quest’. You’d spent time with them for quite a while, up until you’d found a new crew and left for the sea, as it called you. Olu you had only met more briefly through Spanish Jackie. But both of them you were familiar with. 

“How are you alive?” Jim asked straight away, clearly a little curious through the initial shock. You stared at them blankly for a moment. Oh, yeah. The sunken ship. “You know, what could kill the evil?” You shrugged in almost an animated way, adding a chuckle at the end. Both of them seemingly had heard of what had gone down on the last ship you’d been on, Olu clearly interested as well. “Come on, you have to tell us!” Jim added, walking closer in a friendly manner. “Those days are behind me, I’m only a mere landlubber nowadays.” You chuckled, the sting of saying that still hitting deep. “You?” Olu asked, tone of voice making it clear he didn’t want to believe it. And you wouldn’t have either, only if you weren’t saying it yourself. “Mm, you know how it goes. I retired, as they say.” You replied, an attempt to lighten the mood on your part. “Mm, and I don’t believe that?” He insisted, making you give them both an intense stare before your shoulders slumped. “I haven’t dared to go back since the last sinking. Though, I regret leaving that life behind”, You sighed with a defeated shrug, expression soon turning to a more confused one due to what you heard next.

Jim had suggested for you to join the Revenge’s crew, who had already come together with Blackbeard’s crew. The old sailor in you activated almost immediately, shaking their hand in agreement. Before hopping on the boat you’d be calling home, you met their captain, Stede. He wasn’t the typical captain you’d sail with, but seeing as he’d accepted you rather quickly, you did the same for him. Accepted him as your captain. But after getting on the ship itself, you would meet someone who wouldn’t accept you so warmly. Like one of the old sea dogs you’d sailed with years before. A relic, you thought sometimes when he got on your nerves enough.

Almost the moment you stepped a foot on deck, you could feel the first mate’s eyes on your back, like you were the target for something. And after greeting the crew briefly, he made his presence known. He pulled the black bearded man aside, and even through his attempt at whispering you could hear what he said, “so we’re really just letting anyone in nowadays?” Or perhaps he’d done it on purpose so you would hear it too. 

You couldn’t hear what the other captain replied to his first mate, but you continued to stare at them both with a confused, slightly displeased look. In your humble opinion, you’d been on the sea for long enough to have gained a good set of skills. And you were damn motivated to prove to him that you weren’t going to be no swab. A hand placed on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts. “Ignore him, he’s like that always.” Jim said and with that you started settling in. 

Days on the ship passed, and you got accustomed to their way of doing things and by the first months you’d gotten to know the rest of the crew, not just Jim and Olu. Though, as much as you workedand as skilled as you were, Izzy’s mind didn’t seem to budge. It almost felt like he would scowl at you as soon as you weren’t looking. You’d tried talking to him, but each time you tried the reply would be either ‘fuck off’ because he was ‘busy’ or he would come up with tasks for you to do. You could tell he’d been sailing for a long time, and you could tell he was skilled too. But the way he was doing everything in his power to keep you away was odd. Though, you tried to tell yourself that he was softening up to you, thinking he was a little different than at the start.

Swipe by swipe the deck got cleaner, and all the while the action you kept telling yourself you were only doing it because Izzy had told you to. Thankfully that day the wind wasn’t all that cool, though blowing nicely. You straightened your back to stretch, a low groan escaping you at the movement. From the new position you could see an incoming ship. From the looks of it, it was another pirate ship. It didn’t carry the British flag, so it couldn’t have been their navy. Not that they would usually attack pirate ships on sight either way. You didn’t take more time to ponder before running to the captain’s quarters to inform them about the possible incoming attack. 

And you’d been correct, it was another pirate ship with a crew willing to fight for some plunder. All the men on the Revenge had been called on deck, each one of them carrying a weapon of their choice. Yours was a sword, the one that’d been your trusty companion for as long as you could remember. You held it firmly, but with ease due to the knowledge in this type of combat. 

The deck was busy, like an ant nest. You had a man charging at you with a sword in hand, parrying his attack without much emotion. Their initial attack gave you a chance to cutover, quickly fixing your footwork after. The man was down with a nasty wound on his neck, and that is where you left him. Another of the crew was coming towards, you doing your best to keep a good distance to him. He disengaged, giving you a chance to circle perry the attack and allow you to have more space to continue, which you used to lunge and strike the man to his chest. With a swift motion you pulled the sword back, giving it a quick flourish for showmanship even if no one was looking. Or so you thought.

Izzy had fought himself to a position where he had time to watch you fight off the two men. His brows furrowed while following your footwork and the advanced attacks he rarely saw being used. Some of them he couldn’t even name, having not seen them done before. A sting of jealousy hit him through the amazement, his pride in his own skills being shaken. He hadn’t seen you in action before, having no idea of your past or where you’d learned such a set of skills. The first mate’s grip on his sword tightened, his gaze leaving you after the flourish, continuing his own fight. 

After the victorious fight the Revenge kept sailing, days passing the same as before. You were spending the evening with some of the crew, laughter coming from around the table as stories were told along with casual chatter. As the night went on, most of the people around the table started leaving, soon you being the only one left. You drank the last drops of rum from the glass in front of you and pushed the chair back with your legs as you stood up. “Aye.” Came from the stairs as a familiar figure descended from the main deck. Your gaze shot up to him, brows furrowing. “Yes?” Your voice came out a little whiny due to the confusion. The first mate got a little closer, out of the shadows and into the faint light of the few lanterns still lit. “I have something to ask from you.” Slight hesitation in his voice, you noted. You didn’t say anything after, only giving him a nod as a sign to continue. This was already odd enough as it was, Izzy asking for something from you? “Well you know, I saw you fight in the attack earlier.” He started, leaning his hand on the table next to you. “And I think some parts of your tactics were…impressive.” The first mate said with a slight scowl appearing on his face for a moment. A smirk had made its way on yours, amused by the fact that he had finally seen you in action and had to admit his admiration in order to ask of whatever he had to ask. “And I was wondering if you could teach me a few of the attacks you used.” He asked with a slightly pained sigh at the end. The smirk on your face only grew, having to bite it back by chewing on your inner lip. 

The man who’d been ‘tormenting’ you from the day you’d joined was asking for you to teach him a few of your attacks, which you’d learned from the years of piracy and studying the ‘art’ of it. You raised your gaze a little, proud of this achievement on the first mate. Hell, you’d barely been able to talk to the man without him shooing you away like some cabin boy. So, your first response would have been to be a little cocky about this, but you quickly decided against it. “I suppose I could teach you a thing or two, yeah.” You ended up saying, tone loose and relaxed. “You free tomorrow morning?” You asked in return, watching his expression tighten like he was disgusted with the suggestion. “Tomorrow night, when I have the lookout shift.” He said, not giving you more reason for the timing he’d chosen. You furrowed your brows with a slight smirk. Was he trying to arrange the meeting in a way no one would see him training with you? Even the thought made you almost laugh, but you kept it to yourself. “Sure.” You nodded, and without any other words the man was gone. 

You watched him leave, the smirk you’d been holding back finally freely expressed. You couldn’t believe the interaction you’d just had with him. You’d thought the man was slightly amusing from the start, by the way he was commanding the crew around when they clearly couldn’t care less, yet he continued. But seeing him come to ask you for lessons with his tail between his legs was more than amusing. But maybe you’d finally proven yourself to him, and would start getting along with the man from now on. 

The next day passed, the evening dragging the night along. You’d waited until most of the crew was asleep, expecting Izzy to want complete peace. You made your way to the deck just below the main, finding Izzy there along with a few lit candles. 

“Evening.” You greeted him, knowing it was well into the night by this point. “You know, we could have met earlier.” You added, gaining a slight eye roll from the man. “Get to the point, or this lesson will be cut short.” The first mate said, seemingly his defences still up. You put your hands up in defence, pouting slightly. “Alright.” 

You didn’t expect him to have read anything related to fencing or sword fighting, so there was most likely no point in trying to explain any theory to him. The man must have learned his set of skills by just having to fight, learning from errors he’d made along the way. So you thought you’d show him an attack and if he didn’t know it yet, you’d teach it to him. 

Either way, the man was looking at you with an expression that read ‘what now?’ all over it. “How about you show me what you know in action?” You asked, taking your sword out and going into position in front of him. He followed the action, you taking note of the good grip he had of his sword. He didn’t take more time to prepare, using a false thrust to trick you into parrying from the wrong angle before lunging to strike. Or what would have been a good false thrust, if you hadn’t seen it coming. You used a circular perry to deflect it, countering it with a quick flick to his shoulder, making sure not to cause any actual damage. You’d known you couldn’t possibly kick the sword out of his hands due to his strong hold, but the flick had worked nicely enough to get his blade out of your way. 

You backed down after, flourishing the sword in your hand before placing the tip of it against the floor and slightly leaning on it. From the looks of it, Izzy had his brows furrowed but not out of confusion. He had seen the attack performed before, yet it was only now that he’d seen it at such close range, getting a better hang of how it was done. “That good for the first lesson?” You asked, an excited smirk on your face. This would have been a good first step. He already had a good grip of his sword, footwork being nearly perfect, yet his timing and distance needed some training to make the flick work. “Suppose so, yeah.” Izzy replied, voice still a little unfriendly, like he didn’t want to admit to the fact that he was actually taking lessons from you .

That night was a long one, possibly the longest one of the meetings you would continue to have from there. But the later it got, the more Izzy seemed like his guard wasn’t up as much. You explained and showed him a good distance from where to make the attack and the spots on the body where it's the most effective if landed correctly. By the end he was performing it nicely, noting that he seemed to be a rather quick learner. You told him this before going your separate ways, oddly enough, looking forward to the next lesson with him. 

You didn’t talk to him during the day, finding that he was still acting the same when other people were around. But lesson by lesson he started easing out to you, talking to you like a friend after a few meetings. You didn’t mind, not at all. In fact you’d grown a little fond of him over the lessons, finding the two of you often talking while teaching him an attack he didn’t know yet. You’d learned more about him during those nightly lessons than you thought most of the crew knew. 

And as these lessons went on, you found yourself more than keen on the first mate. And at some point you started fearing that maybe he’d seen through you, and your feelings were affecting the way you were teaching him. But trying to push those thoughts aside, you kept giving him the lessons. 

But by some point, you could have sworn you had started noticing him opening up to you more and on some rare days he’d even come up to you during the day. He’d of course never admit that during the lessons, but you began to wonder if you should tell him of the crush you’d developed. And after building some courage you decided the best time to tell him would be at some point during the next lesson, when he was the most natural with you. 

The weather outside wasn't the best that night. There was a smaller storm happening, but not fully on the ship itself. This caused some of the heavier waves to hit the vessel and sway it from side to side, at times rather roughly. Even your sea legs gave out at times when a heavier wave hit the ship, having to hold on to the nearest wall. 

It was safe to say that this lesson would again be held in the lower deck, below the main. The main deck had more space to practise attacks involving long distance movement, but it was no use going there tonight. At best, one of you would fall overboard. 

You descended from the stairs, finding Izzy already stationed where he usually waited for you. “Took you so long, I almost thought you’d fallen overboard”,the man commented while pressing his food against the nearest wall as the ship swayed yet again, in order to keep balance. You raised your eyebrows for a moment, giving him a light shrug. He was struggling as well. “Whatever you say.” You hummed while taking out your sword, leaning it against the wooden flooring as per usual. He was waiting for you to start the lesson. “I thought we’d have a duel tonight. See if you’re any good.” You chuckled silently, the man giving you a low huff with a ‘fuck off’ somewhere in the mix. Though, it seemed he had agreed to the idea as he was taking out his sword, going into position. You followed after. 

Izzy moved fast, quickly lunging at you which you were able to deflect with a parry, having to take a few steps back as he was moving rather fast. “You’re wasting your energy.” You hummed, taking a tighter grip of your sword. You would try to use a flèche to end the duel, but you needed some space before doing that. He knew the move by now, but you wanted to try if he’d be able to parry or block it. 

After gaining enough distance, you got ready. Izzy shrugged at you, eyes keenly on your form. “Maybe, or maybe I almost just got you.” He replied. You rolled your eyes, not out of annoyance but more out of habit. He was preparing to lunge, or maybe trying to fake it to trick you. Either way, you took a longer jump forward, circling his sword to the side and aiming for the area around his shoulder, a successful flèche. Or would have been, if the ship didn’t sway at the exact same time. 

Due to your lunge just now, you didn’t have a proper stance to hold your ground. This caused you to lunge further than intended, and with the added force of the swaying you crashed onto Izzy. You heard the swords clash onto the floor, you feeling the nearest wall hit your head as you landed on Izzy, bringing him down with you. 

You groaned, slowly opening your eyes again. The spot on your head that had hit the wall ached, but you dragged your torso up by lifting with your arms. “You alright?” Came from under you, making your eyes widen. You couldn’t even think of the pain from the hit, embarrassed for tripping him over as well. “I’m- fine! Because I won, obviously.” You tried to ease your own panic by talking, scrambling off of him and back on your feet. 

You watched the first mate get up after you. “We can continue later. I don’t want to duel you like this, not fighting dirty.” Izzy then said, not wanting to argue over your wellbeing, but eyes still keenly on you as you tried collecting yourself. “Then let’s take a break, I can still continue.” You said, holding onto the table behind you. He didn’t say anything to that, not giving you a sign if he’d agreed to it or not. By the sound of it, he’d kneeled down to pick up the swords. 

He walked up to you, handing your sword back. “You don’t look fine.” He said, eyes looking for signs of damage. “Rude”, you almost chuckled, biting your inner lip to fight it back. “What?” He asked almost immediately after. “You don’t think I’m fine?” You asked, having to bite your inner lip with more force after. This hadn’t been how you imagined this going, but it wasn’t going to get much better. Izzy’s eyes widened at the comment, but catching up to what you were doing rather quickly. “I didn’t say that.” He squinted his eyes slightly. “Then do you?” The first mate looked to the side for a moment thinking about the question. “And you would like to know because?” He asked, voice a little awkward now that the moment truly started settling in. You furrowed your brows, not sure if the tone in his voice was a good or a bad thing. “Because I do think that way of you.” You blurted out, the air becoming tense. His eyes were on you once more, but more cautious this time. “Are you tricking me?” He asked carefully, as if that had been a mandatory question to ask before saying whatever he wanted to say next. The chuckle from earlier came out as an amused huff, trying to lift up the mood. “Of course not. What kind of a tutor would I be if I’d take up lying.” His eyes met yours once more. The jokes weren’t working, he was truly getting a little more emotional than usual. “I do…have love for you.” He said, hand careful as it placed itself on top of yours, on the table. As if he was scared you’d pull away. 

You had to hold back a smile, afraid that would scare him off. “I don’t think you understand how relieved I am to hear that.” You said, saying whatever came to mind, as finding any thought out words were getting difficult to find. “I feel the same.” You added, just to make it all the more clear to him. 

You watched the man carefully move his hand from yours to your forearm, slightly frozen in place, as if he didn’t know what to do next. He looked lost somewhere in his own mind. You swallowed hard, swiftly placing your hand at the nape of his neck, bringing him in for a kiss, to which he responded to. You didn’t pull away, a sly smirk forming on your face. 

You’d tried your best to keep it hidden, but it was no use anymore. You switched positions, pushing him gently against the nearest wall, raising your sword up to his chest as you pulled away from the kiss. “I still won.” You smiled. 

[sweetest-honeybee]

C'mon mate what's the tea on the manager they crazy or just stupid? A manager is usually one or the other. Or both.

PFFT just an ass to literally everyone in the building but I learned all this in pretty much one day:

She was hoping to fire this one girl bc the girl has a no call-no show on her record (girl in question is a mother and I believe it was due to an emergency related to that). The hope was that the girl wouldn’t come to work on another no call-no show but she ended up coming which pissed off manager

This is just something I heard from someone else (old friend from high school who happens to work there) but apparently one of the employees there is suing due to violations regarding an injury they received at work. Manager made them continue working and demanded them do things their doctor specifically said they couldn’t do and so company and manager are being sued

Lady I work for in the kitchen HATES her and they have a fair bit of history from the last year actually including a screaming match which ended in items being thrown apparently? Manager keeps butting in to cook things bc she thinks lady in the kitchen, despite it being her job, either doesn’t know what she’s doing or is too slow

Manager put me and girl she was hoping to fire in there together to cook stuff and train me in the kitchen. All was fine til manager butted in to teach me the EXACT same stuff lady taught me and was somehow surprised I already fuckin. Knew how to do it 😂

Manager just kept getting in the way of every damn thing in that kitchen

Manager sent lady int he tiki hen home early bc she decided there was nothing else she needed to do even tho we kept continuing to prepare food under the training of 2 managers including asshole manager

Kept pulling employee who’s suing aside to bitch at them in the kitchen in the last couple hours of my shift

Generally kept bitching about every damn thing in the store (loudly going “Customers come in here expecting us to drop everything to help them! 😡😡” in the kitchen)

Kitchen lady was busy training me so nobody was watching the roller grill for the first 2 hours of my shift which pissed off manager even tho she stuck be back there to train. Openly complained about it in front of customers

More of a pet peeve but she also bitched about my name tag being on the wrong side like 8 feet from me. Didn’t say it to me, never did. But bitched to another manager about it. There were no specific codes on how to wear the name tag, just that you had one. I wore it on my left side with the company logo bc I’m right handed and reaching things with my right hand would make my arm hit it and repeatedly scrape against my arm. I fixed it but apparently she’s got a reputation for bitching about something to EVERYONE except you if you’re pissing her off with something

But yeah people quit there all the time bc of her and the ridiculous workload she puts on everyone. And by ridiculous I don’t mean a lot, but such a small store means there’s not always something to do. So before store inspection, she had me scoot along the inside perimeter and scrub that little corner where the walls and floors meet. Honest to god I god paid an hour to sit and scrub dirt out of THIS

[terrified-spider]

D&D Vampirism & the Results of Regenerative Abilities

A small note:

I’ve posted about both Elder Scrolls and D&D on this blog, and I’m pretty sure I’ve already written some headcanons about TES’s portrayal of vampirism. What’s described here is only for my D&D world building, Barovia/General Ravenloft in particular, where the condition is generally treated much more like a curse than in the Elder Scrolls franchise, where it’s a contracted illness. I won’t promise that I will or won’t write about TES vampirism, as i think it’s fun, it’s not something I find fitting for the Domains of Dread.

This post contains spoilers for the heavily modified version of Curse of Strahd I will be eventually running, and spoilers for the novel I, Strahd. Changes from the RAW 5e module include:

Alek is back! He’s not having a good time. 

Escher is Van Richten’s lost son. It’s not that important to this essay, but I do mention their shared eyesight problems in passing.

Shout out to @mx-lamour and their fanfic "What have I done?", for being the reason I finally sat down and wrote this all out. 

An Introduction to Vampirism & Wound Recovery in Undeath:

Whether described as a curse or blessing, Vampirism is a magical condition, one that has a number of effects on the patient’s natural recovery/healing process, and by extension, the development of scars throughout one’s unlife. While none of the information here is intended to impact gameplay and balance, it can have an influence over roleplay and certainly does in character design. Flavor is free, and I want it all.

Becoming a vampire is akin to pressing pause on one’s life and body, stopping the aging process, but not reversing it. For example, no more of Strahd’s hair will turn gray, but the streaks that are there will never change back to black. Escher’s eyesight and the myopia inherited from his father are impacted by age, getting worse over time. While being turned provided him with some new dark vision, he will remain nearsighted to the same extent he was upon death. The march of time has stopped, but that doesn’t mean it can be reversed. 

Scar tissue is subject to the same forces, and old scars obtained during life will stop fading, remaining just as visible or unapparent as they did upon the body’s death. Unhealed wounds will repair themselves only once regeneration begins, but are subject to the same factors as other wounds obtained post mortem.

General Post Mortem Wounds and Scaring Trends:

While there is some variation in these trends, there are three main degrees to which wounds will leave a lasting impact.

Minor wounds don’t last. These are the results of unsilvered weaponry, mild damage from running water, and necrotic magic. Very little is in the way of the regeneration and healing process, so there are less chances for something to go wrong, such as debris entering the wound, or the injury to scab over, and increase the chances of a scar forming. On the off chance one does form, it usually vanishes within an hour at the latest.

Most magical damage provides the same level of regenerative difficulty as that of sivered weapons and most instances of water damage. Silver and water, both considerable weaknesses of vampires, react poorly with the dark magic of a vampire’s curse, and interfere with it’s influences over the body. Similarly to those described prior, these scars will fade with time, simply taking longer, usually over the course of a couple days, or several weeks at most. 

Sunlight will cause the most dramatic injuries, leaving burns over the exposed skin, and healing to form scars that never fade.

Turning Wounds:

Turning wounds are usually bites, the injuries that kill someone as they become undead, and the place of the curse’s transference. Given the nature of the wound, magic doesn’t make the wounds particularly easy to heal, even with the assistance of vampiric regeneration, which is usually what heals them.

Unlike other wounds that result in varying scar types and will reflect the type of damage when applicable, turning wounds usually lave behind contracture scars, where the skin has tightened over the wound in the healing process, giving the impression of skin stretched over the injury. It results in much more obvious scar tissue that can sometimes cause the individual pain, both due to the nature of the scar type, and the magical influences.

While most turning wounds are bite marks, such as those on the necks of Alek and Escher, they can take the form of other injuries, such as the numerous arrow marks across Strahd’s torso and chest.

Different Types of Vampires & Exceptions to the Trends:

The patterns here assume that the subject described is a vampire spawn, a common type of vampire within Ravenloft and Barovia in particular. Consumption of blood will have an impact on healing speed, where greater access to blood will speed up the process, and under feeding can drag out the process for months or longer. However, differences in the nature of one’s curse can manifest as much more dramatic differences in healing ability.

Failed Spawn - Alek Gwilym:

For some reason, the curse didn’t transfer right. In the case of Alek, his blood was already used to reanimate someone, and the Dark Powers forbid Strahd from ever having a good time. Alek just got caught in the crossfire.

Technically they use the Nosferatu stat block but that’s behind the DM screen, not in game.

Turning wounds on failed spawn don’t heal properly, leaving open wounds that won’t bleed, but can be opened up further, and can cause significant pain if not kept clean or become irritated.

The Dark Powers hate you in particular - Strahd von Zarovich:

Aside from turning wounds, any scar will fade with time, including severe sunburns.

Injuries resulting from critical hits will have lasting impacts, such as vision or movement issues, punishment for mistakes in combat.

It needs some work, but this is inspired by the parts of Strahd’s relationship with Barov I’ve been able to flesh out. It needs some work still, but the man taught Strahd mistakes have lasting consequences, either in a material sense, or Barov holding failures over Strahd.

Cleveland Clinic on Scars (:

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Bad Temptation : XXI |o.

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

“- What are you doing here?

- A routine visit, nothing more.

- I didn't know lawyers were allowed to go around bars, it must be bad for the CV.”

Heisukei only gives a small laugh, which makes Hoseok wrinkle his nose. Crossing his arms over his chest, he settles more comfortably into his office chair, looking for the slightest sign in this abject individual that would give him some meaning to this whirlwind visit. But there was nothing in the lawyer's body language to make him understand why he'd set foot in his establishment. This made him rather nervous. The demon remains on his guard, knowing that Heisukei could have been up to anything, just for fun.

“- I've reread all our laws, you know.

- Good for you.

- And I've never found a law that explains why demons like you can't come back to Earth, open businesses, steal the work of honest people.”

Hoseok remained silent for a few seconds, before slowly straightening up. The audacity of this individual will always amaze him. A bitter chuckle passes his lips as he lets his chair slide back to his feet. He'd never liked Heisukei, and it wasn't just because he was his girlfriend's ex-spouse, although that was part of it. No, he didn't like Heisukei because something seemed wrong with him from the first time he'd met his gaze, something he hadn't yet put his finger on.

“- I'm sorry to hear that you don't yet know how to read our laws. So I invite you to do so and come back later.

- Oh. I don't think you'll be here to greet me anyway. After all, as the mayor stipulated in his last mandate, we no longer accept any unauthorized individuals on our territory.”

Hoseok gazes at him with dark eyes, but says nothing. He watches the three men escorting Heisukei into his office. They smell bad, worse than a rotting zombie, which sends shivers down his spine. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on. Yet Hoseok remains calm, much more so than he would have expected in such a situation. He takes his jacket and one of his best bottles from the shelf, joining the door without being asked.

“- It's been a long time since I've had a vacation. How generous of you.

- I'm delighted we finally understand each other.

- But don't expect to profit from my establishments. Hell has no shortage of your kind, Mr. Damarro, don't you ever forget that.”

When Hoseok walks through the door, he doesn't need to do much for the entire building, along with hundreds of other businesses, to disappear. All that's left is a lot of empty, unkempt land. Heisukei stares into space for long minutes before tapping his foot on the dusty ground, railing against the whole planet, and everything he can.

“- Mr. Damarro…

- What now?

- The mayor wants to see you.”

He takes a deep breath, then simply nods. The journey is silent. None of his guards really dares to speak, and they're all almost relieved when they arrive at the town hall. The town's central building had lost some of its splendor, but Heisukei doesn't dwell on the old building. He walked through the corridors as if he owned the town hall, wrinkling his nose and eyebrows at the sickening scene before him: Mr. Choi, the old vampire who couldn't bear to lose his establishment, was naked, accompanied by a demon. He hisses through his teeth, expressing his disdain, and the young woman quickly disappears into black dust, causing the new mayor to grumble.

“- I was having fun! I wasn't expecting you for at least two hours.

- Let's just say my visit was cut short. What's wrong?

- I still haven't taken back the establishment that was stolen from me. Why? You promised me power and control!

- The Jeon family played their cards faster than I thought. Unfortunately, someone didn't inform me that the wedding season was about to open.

- As if I could. You know very well I have no way of knowing.”

Heisukei refrains from commenting on this stupid mistake. He should be more careful now that he'd stirred up the anthill. Surely alienating the major families wasn't a rich idea. But when you're like him, impatient, you want it all, right away. It was probably stupid, but that was part of his charm after all. He tugged at his jacket, feeling a whiff of disgust as he watched the old man put clothes back on, then walked over to the window, looking at his empire at hand.

“- Your business is ruined, you'll never get it back. The Jeon family did it right. Get over it, we've got work to do, and something far more important than your stupid press.

- What a waste, a thriving business in the hands of a fake vampire. What a shame.”

Heisukei lets out an unpleasant, knife-like laugh, turning to the old man. He glares at him, disgusted by this filthy being. There had always been something disgusting about this odious character. But he was a useful pawn, one he could manipulate to his heart's content without having to fear the consequences. He knew the time would come, and he looked forward to the moment when he would crush him like a common insect. The old man stepped back, obviously not that stupid. Heisukei blew out his breath to relax, looking out over the city again. Soon, everything would be his. His big day would come, and no one would be there to stop him. Taehyung and Jungkook's wedding was just a futility, nothing more. If that idiot Lysa had played her part properly… That's why he didn't like entrusting important tasks to stupid pawns, because afterwards, you had to pick up the pieces. He moistens his lips, turning back to the old man, a little calmer.

“- What about the Kim mansion? Did you have it demolished as requested?

- Actually… that is…

- That what? The tone startled the man, who lowered his head, like a child caught at fault. - Mr. Jeon stopped by City Hall this morning… and…

- And what?

- He bought the mansion from my secretary… during our meeting.”

The office passes through the window, making a hell of a noise. This will most certainly appear in the papers the next day, because of those rapacious journalists incapable of respecting people's privacy. But it goes right over the sorcerer's head, his anger exploding as he waltzes around the furniture, under the terrified gaze of the mayor, who is looking for a corner to hide in.

“- I gave clear instructions. I'm surrounded by incompetents.”

The bookcase flies out, crushing the old man under the floorboards. Heisukei pisses even more at this umpteenth stupidity. Blood drips between the shelves, and he stands there for a minute contemplating the lifeless body. The first generations of vampires were really fragile, and this makes him nauseous. What a waste. He adjusts the folds of his jacket, before stepping out of the office under the appalled and terrified gazes of the secretaries.

“- Mr. Mayor has had an unfortunate accident. Please notify the emergency services.

- Yes, sir…

- From now on, I'll be at the head of the city. Send out a press release. I'll be giving an interview first thing Friday.”

Like little ants, the two vampires hurried to obey his orders, running in all directions, clumsy and indelicate. Heisukei couldn't understand how such an inferior species could be treated so well. This would be one of the first things he'd put in place: only superior beings would be entitled to the best things, the rest are just insects, malleable people. They don't need rights, just to serve those above them and keep quiet. He feels soothed by this thought, calmly rejoining his car.

“- Kim's Restaurant.”