#vi scenarios | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fatalitysficbakery · 7 months ago

Text

𓆰♡︎𓆪 NEVER Trust The Love Interest. —

Samantha Carpenter x Black Fem!Y/n

genre: angst | fluff | SMUT.

warnings: listen to 'What a wonderful world' by Louis Armstrong while reading, ghostface!sam, sub!sam, soft dom!y/n, praise, oral (reader giving), slight!fingering, soft ‘reuinited’ smut, sub worship.

synopsis: legacies make franchises.

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery navigation menu 𓆪.

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery multifandomed &&’ oc menu #2 𓆪.

❦ ⌫ ❦

An unsettling silence plagued the halls, so quiet you could hear a mouse squeak, but who could blame anyone in the complex for leaving after what had happened in only two weeks.

Nobody wanted to believe it was happening again until the bodies in the morgue began to pile up, and the first mask was found next to the third victim, it was almost a taunt. No...A greeting.

Ghostface was back in business.

The Carpenter sisters were on immediate alert, but it didn't take long for someone to throw a big party, the perfect opportunity for new victims, and for some unknown fucking reason no one seemed to be concerned with the outcome that Samantha and Tara could sense a mile away like clockwork.

Tara stayed home, luckily. But that's not who Sam was worrying about right now as her phone went to voicemail for the 20th time that night, Sam was quick to grab her keys. There were many ways this could go south but with her being radio silent? Sam couldn't care less about the consequences than the idiots that had willingly gone despite the risks. On her way out the door, she texts Chad, Tara, and Mindy to warn them of her whereabouts, gun holstered and knife in her boots.

Never too armed. There was a mace and taser in her purse for backup.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

The scene was a bloodbath, the moment you entered the place there were bodies and puddles of red as far as the eye could see and Samantha was quick to unholster the gun resting on her hip, there wasn't a lot she was afraid of anymore, hell blood had become so normal to her, she stepped over the bodies like they weren't there.

If anything everything in sight had become invisible to her eyes, her thoughts solely on the one person she was hellbent on saving, on protecting. Nearing the staircase, she hears distant voices, and murmurs.

'C'mon, Y/n. Not today.'

Rounding the corner, her heart nearly beat out of her chest when the voices only got louder just for to realize.

'I see trees of green, red roses too..'

She grunts a hiss of air out when her eyes land on an old stereo. With her jaw set, she pushes on, determination filling her gaze like it had only done when Tara was the one who needed her protection. Her head cocking slightly to the side when a new gaze meets hers; pointing the gun directly between the males eyes, she crouches next to the figure.

"Travis. Where's Y/n?" She asked quietly, the sight of her bestfriends boyfriend hidden in the same room she'd gone into putting her on high alert. There was blood on his collar. She scoffs when he doesn't answer. "Trav, c'mon. I need to find her. Keep her safe, that's what you want, no?"

Travis trembles from his spot on the floor, and Sam spots a puddle forming beneath him. The empathy in her eyes left just as fast as it had come, eyes moving down his neck to his hands; Bloodied.

Sam clicks her tongue, standing up from her spot next to him.

"Or at least, that's...that's what you should want, Travis. I mean look at you, lying in wait while your girlfriend gets possibly murdered. Jesus...That's cold-hearted."

Travis squirms from his spot on the floor, eyes frantic and body trembling like a fish out of water. Samantha just watches as he grows more inconsolable, attention on him only diverting when she turns to find a cloaked figure.

Stu's mask on their face.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

Samantha barely manages to dodge the knife aiming for her abdomen, stepping out of the way at the last minute, her movements fluid and clean as she does like it's a choreographed dance she'd obsessively learned the steps to.

Her strangely calm demeanor shifts slightly when she looks back at Travis, who only seems...confused.

"You really are a little bitch, Travis. That's what's sad. You date a close friend of a Carpenter sister...but you never thought twice, did you? Don’t you know the rules?"

Holstering her gun, she sighed and kneeled down next to the bed while the cloaked killer worked on dragging Travis to the middle of the room, both his kneecaps had been shot out, rendering the poor thing immobile and utterly useless.

Her fingers brushed against the mask, a shudder running down her spine at the feel of sheer power beneath her thumbs, a legacy she was tired of running from, one she'd been so desperate to get rid of. One that she was now even more hellbent and desperate on keeping alive.

'Do it, Sam. Put it on. You've earned this' Billy's voice plays in her head like an echoing cave, and with every fear the old Samantha held in her heart of hearts...She uses it to drive her; Billy's knife in her boot and his mask in her hand.

Her lips quiver the moment she bites the bullet and puts it on again, this time...to be used as her father intended it to.

'Atta girl, Sammy. Now. Do me proud, kid. Flood this fucking town RED!'

"Sam."

A voice cuts through the hallucinations, snapping Sam out of her stupor, she looks up at the cloaked figure standing over Travis, nodding to herself; a confirmation to herself that there was no going back after this. Standing up, she takes her spot next to the person in Stu's mask, cutting on the voice changer, she feels a spark traveling down her spine, breathing it all in.

Samantha Carpenter meets Samantha Loomis.

"There are rules, Travis. And you broke one of the biggest. Now the sad thing is...I can see it in your eyes. Shifty. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you do wanna save Y/n. Is that what you want? To save her?"

The tears that gathered in his eyes bring a smile to Samantha's face from underneath her mask, neck craning to the side, her eyes meeting her partners just as Travis finally whimpers out a pathetic pleading "Yes".

"You wanna tell him? You do the honors."

Stepping back, Samantha allows them to the front, their voice disguised as well when speaking, a crackling robotic tone sounding through. "It'd be my pleasure. I've really been waiting all night for this."

Dragging his body to a sitting position, they go to lock the door, the radio being turned up just a tad louder to drown out the incessant whimpering, squatted beside him now, they slowly begin removing the plastic Halloween mask.

Travis's eyes widen the moment he's aware of what's underneath.

The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.

❦ ⌫ ❦

The radio, it repeats, and it repeats, keeping time with his rapid heartbeats. She straddles his lap, knife grazing his skin, forcing him to look in his eyes.

The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.

'I see trees of green, red roses too...I see them bloom for...'

"Y/n." He breathes out shakily.

'Me and you.'

With the voice changer resting underneath her lips, her knife, she nods, pulling a gun. Stu's berretta, from her pocket, whistling quietly.

"And I think to myself..." She leans in closer, a soft smirk curving onto her lips, "What a wonderful world. Hi baby. You know what this is right? Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. We're just talking, right? Just talking. Don't cry."

Samantha's jaw sets watching the scene, her body itching for a kill. Specifically this one.

"What is this? Huh?" She repeats, waving the beretta at him like a nice greeting, or in this case, maybe a solemn goodbye.

"The...The gun you shot me with? I-I don't know, Y/n please...W-why?"

"I'm getting there. Patience. I mean, you're not wrong. I did shoot you with it, but you know...I also shot that bitch you were cheating with. Junie? Her favorite scary movie was weak. The nun. Ugh. No. This? is Stu Macher's gun."

"J-junie's dead?"

"As a bitch, Travis. As a fucking bitch. You know, Sammy's right. You did break a rule. Two actually."

"One, you cheated and told Mindy of all people. My sister, really? You never could handle your fucking liquor." Rising up, she points the gun at his thigh and pulls the trigger, relishing the way his screams align with the music. "You trusted the love interest. Sammy?"

'I see skies of blue and clouds of white...'

On cue, Samantha walks ahead of Y/n, kissing her cheek as she does so, Billy's knife tightly gripped in her hand.

'The bright blessed day...The dark sacred night...'

"I guess you're even, Trav. I mean, she was cheating on you too. Bestfriend? You could say we're close. The only problem is..." Samantha drops down into his lap, but there's nothing erotic about the plans she has for him, her knife to his neck; she removes the old mask, a shit-eating grin on her face, "Only one of you cheated with a goddamned Loomis."

'And I think to myself...'

Without a second word, his throat is slit, and she blacks out. His body riddled with stab wounds when it was all over she could hear Y/n's heeled boots against the floor, looking back to see Stu's berretta pointed at Travis's head though he'd taken his last breath seconds before; smoothly Samantha rolled out of the way, allowing Y/n to deliver a swift shot to the head.

'What a wonderful world...'

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

After all was said and done, Y/n leaned her forehead against Samantha's taking a deep breath at the next steps, her eyes staring deeply into hers, "I'm ready."

"Baby, we...we don't gotta." Sam reasons, but she shakes her head, a bittersweet smile spread across her cheeks, she whispers to Sam, eyes glossed over with tears. "I won't die. I'll be fine. It's for you, I'll do it for you."

"Are you sure? Completely?"

"Completely."

There's a replica knife, one of Billy's that Y/n had crafted herself, one she'd stabbed Junie with before shooting her, one she'd stabbed Samantha's ex-boyfriend with, and you know the people that came to the party, it was easy to do so when not many dared to arrive due to the restart of the killings and being the only one with a gun helped too, of course.

She passes it into Samantha's gloved hand.

"Do it. And after you do it, I need you to go. Okay? Go, and don't call me. I will call you. Understood?"

"Understood." Samantha takes a deep breath. It had been all too effortless to kill Travis, to kill Gale but the thought of hurting you only slightly was one she hated.

"Now, Sam, NO- AH, FUCK!" As soon as Y/n cries out, she's pulled into Samantha's arms, careful to mind the abdomen wound she'd just given her girlfriend, shushing the poor thing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...Shh. Shh, I got you."

As much as Y/n wants to hold on tighter, she just whispers one word in Samantha's ear, sliding off her cloak and handing it to Samantha to get rid of. "Go."

Samantha nodded, pecking Y/n's lips before grabbing the cloak and ducking out of the backdoor they stood by, leaving Y/n to call the police, though she didn't know just how far Y/n would go to protect her until she heard a pained yell inside and a gunshot and as if she could sense Sam's concern, another "GO" is yelled out from inside.

Sam goes.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

"She's gone, Sam. She's gone. There's no true love for a Loomis, remember your true love. Pick up the knife, Sammy." His voice grows increasingly aggressive, brows knitted together waving the infamous dagger in front of my face, like bone to dog and it almost physically hurts to not reach my hands out, wrap my fingers around the handle -- Let the electricity liven me.

Her being mentioned is the only thing that breaks my attention away, and I can see his face fall into something blank when he realizes I wasn't budging on my stance, it isn't until I wake up with a jolt, looking at the clock and very predictably my phone, itching to see if she'd called or messaged.

She hadn't.

It wasn't until that afternoon that I heard from her, waiting with bated breaths to see if she was still breathing, if we'd gone too far and she was a part of the carnage, the gunshot still rang fresh as day in my head, her voice the only thing to cut through the thoughts, through my father's taunting. I could hear him now, there was no love to be truly had regarding what we were, but I refused to let him be right. Not when it came to her.

"Spare key. Earth to my beautiful girlfriend?"

I think my jaw goes slack, my lips slightly parting themselves and I'm almost in denial. I'd almost let my father ruin love for me, and though I hadn't budged, that moment of dread I felt when I considered the possibility of her having died ran so deeply that it was almost like seeing a ghost when she's finally within a foot or two in front of me, that familiar cheeky smile stretching from ear to ear.

God, she's as beautiful as I remember and though it's only been a mere half a day apart I find myself scanning her from head to toe, analyzing and trying to scope out if any of the little details that she was made up of had changed; To my relief, the only things out of place are the stab wound near her side, and the cast on her wrist which must've been the beretta's doing.

Other than that...It was her, it was my lady that stood in front of me.

↳

"Oh thank fuck. You're alive." Samantha's hands find my waist so naturally it feels like it's instinct for her, to pull me into an embrace without the slightest thought to it. I can feel her body shudder, eyes pricking with tears; She squeezes me so tight I have to tap her a few times to let her know her hold is a bit too strong, and even then she seems reluctant, as if I've just dealt her a...disrespectful request.

"Not for long if you keep squeezing me like this, sweetheart. I shot myself in the arm, hit nothin' vital. Again there's nothing I wouldn't do to see you get out of this without being caught. Best damn Ghostface there ever was. Y'know that right?" I can't stop staring, though I'd never been able to, not since we'd been friends. Sleepovers almost always ended with us talking about everything and nothing while staring into one another's eyes until the moon made way for the sun.

She nods, but I can tell she's wary and I take no time to bring her into my arms, brushing her hair from her face, a small whisper of a "Hey" spoken through the silence to hush her worries. "I'm alive, okay? Wouldn't leave my favorite girl alone."

"You could've been seriously hurt." Sam nuzzles herself against me, arms gripping around my waist protectively as if she thought I might disappear into thin air.

"But I didn't and if I did? It would've been damn worth it, I don't regret a damn thing." I'm sure of this, I know it to be true. I bring my hand up to her cheek, keeping it there until I'm sure she trusts that it's real, that she's real. I hear her chuckle but there's zero humor behind the sound, it breaks my heart to see her so scared when she whimpers, letting go and allowing herself to be picked up and carried upstairs to her bedroom relenting like she'd never hesitated.

We climb the stairs in a comfortable yet tense silence, making our way to Sam's bedroom. I push the door open with my foot and gently kick it closed all the same.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, sitting her on the bed and coming to take place between her legs, hands cupping her face. I tilt her chin up to look directly into her chocolate-brown gaze.

It's a brief moment before I hear her voice again, I forget myself within one smooth motion, my right hand moving to her lips and a kiss pressed upon the back and if that isn't enough, her words press their own soft kisses to my ears. "I think you might be the only one aside from my sister that I trust right now, Y/n."

Lying her back on the bed, I feel myself aching in ways no one has ever made me ache and I hadn't even touched her yet. She was just that good. I chased the high every time. "Then let me take care of you."

Standing over her, I reached for the hem of her shorts, only hesitating on my movements just to gauge her reactions and make sure this was okay. She had this look that could get her anything she ever wanted and when she flashed it at me I knew to do exactly that.

Those pretty little eyes of hers, she gave me that stare and I was turned a slave for her love, she had me in only one night and she still had me now.

She was always so reluctant to be vulnerable, to allow herself something so human. No one could blame her, she'd gone through a lot to get here. I see it in her though. That fighter. — She still deserved to let those defenses down every now and then and I was more than honored that I'd become trusted with such realities in which Sam just got to be Sam.

"I gotta hear you before I go any further, baby. Speak up for me?"

The poor thing's words must've been caught in her throat for a second or two but I allowed her the chance to gather herself before my lips were on her inner thigh, I swear I did but I know that if I were a lesser woman my self-control would've been stripped the before she uttered a damn word. "Just...touch me."

Now that I didn't need to be told twice.

I think one of the most fascinating things about Samantha is her power to seduce and addict, and she had me absolutely sprung. My lips ghost over her thighs before actually meeting the skin. Call me slow but I loved seeing her reactions and keeping myself between her legs at all times, letting her know how appreciated she truly was.

She looks down at me, her abs taut as I bring up the tank top she's wearing, exposing her muscled physique to my hungry eyes. That dark hooded stare is intense on me, and it's a damn shame she has to work tomorrow. I'd be here all night if I could.

My lips had wandered everywhere, neglecting Samantha and themselves while straying away from its intended target until finally, we'd both had enough. She lets out a frustrated whine and I'm too far gone to keep denying myself so I settle our collective woes when I wrap my lips around her bud, her body flinching only to end up running further into my tongue. One hand gripping her thigh in a firm hold.

I bury myself within the temple that is Samantha Carpenter's body, her slick coating my lips, my cheeks, my nose. Drowning in the scent and taste of her all I feel is a simple man's greed. Right now I am that simple man, and I have only one thing on my mind.

Making her sing. I always told her she had a beautiful voice.

Her moans egg me on, legs hoisted up on my shoulders. Her gaze is still locked in on me heavy, and when I pull away for air I can see a small hint of disappointment. "You seem disappointed. Have I disappointed you, my love? Don't be afraid. Speak your mind."

"You're an assho-" I shush her with my lips, giving her a taste of the liquid heaven that rests between her thighs, a moan slips out of those beautiful lips and the sound gets me high. I pull back, my mind back in that simple man's place as I lower myself back between her thighs. My tongue finds her slit and runs the length, revelling in the way she shudders each time.

Once upon a time, I told her my favorite thing was making out with her. I didn't clarify that I meant that in every sense of the word my mouth engaged in a heated makeout session with Sam's cunt. I'm not ashamed to admit it but after the night I had that ended with my arm in a sling, this felt like a reward. I'd gotten to the finish line. My prize was in front of me, and I was happy to take it. More than.

It wasn't long before I recognized those telltale signs that meant she was close to climax. The way her eyebrows knitted and she bit down on her lip harshly trying not to show just how good she was feeling, as she attempted to keep some semblance of that signature Samantha stubbornness; She failed miserably again and again. It was amusing to watch, and I was more than willing to...but granting her the serenity of hiding in the end was something that was completely off the table.

I let two of my fingers graze the edge of her hole, eyeing her reaction when I plunge the two deeply into her pretty pussy. If I wasn't so occupied I think I could've smirked a little.

The reaction this garner is as precious as it is delicious. Her legs squeezed themselves around my neck, her hands gripping the sheets and her back arched, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm wracked through her body.

Her taste is something I couldn't quit if I tried, and I had no intention to. No, in fact, I locked my lips around her, fingers pumping in and out with her cum coating my tongue. Every little drip came from paradise and god was it heavenly.

And listen to that melody in which she sings my name.

"Y/n...B-baby, I can't-"

Fucking beautiful.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

"Do you think we could ever live a normal life?" She asks while her girlfriend lathers her hair up with shampoo, sitting behind her in the clawfoot bathtub. She can still see flashes of the carnage they left behind and she wonders just how much of her father she'd absorbed from the real-life cases to the movies her friends liked to binge repeatedly, and now she was continuing his legacy. A killer.

Y/n can practically see the overthinking inner battle Sam is having, and she immediately stops her movements. She pulls her in, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and the other tilting her head up to face her. She presses a brief but sweet, gentle kiss to her lips. Her forehead is against Sam's when they pull away.

"I'm gonna be honest, my love. I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm damn well gonna fight for one for us. Do you hear me? I want you to fight too. I...need you to fight too."

Her voice cracks on her last words until she feels two hands grabbing hers. Sam's eyes move over her and it's like she's falling in love with her girlfriend all over again. "Hey. I never said I was giving up."

Y/n stops in her tracks, taking a deep breath and nodding in agreement. "You didn't..."

Sam shakes her head, a smile slowly crawling onto her lips. She leans in to kiss Y/n again, head back against hers. "I didn't."

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

A/N: Listened to Fiona Apple and Cowboy Carter high while I wrote this. 10/10 would recommend.

103 notes · View notes

chairwritexv · 1 year ago

Text

☏﹏﹏﹏[ 🇦 🇷 🇨 🇦 🇳 🇪

[ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ]

ᴊɪɴx

jinx accidentally hurting reader during a spiral

reader (jinx’s sibling) sacrifices themself in place of jinx

jinx’s reaction to reader getting beat up

ᴠɪᴏʟᴇᴛ

vi’s reaction to reader getting beat up

ᴄᴀɪᴛʟʏɴ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴇᴋᴋᴏ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴍᴇʟ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

cutting silco’s hair

reader (silco’s child) sacrifices themself in place of jinx

ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴍʏʟᴏ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

157 notes · View notes

bumblingbabooshka · 1 year ago

Text

In 'vis a vis' Janeway doesn't mention B'Elanna in the list of people who're worried about Tom which implies that B'Elanna didn't report the fact that "Tom" grabbed her arm, called her a disappointment and broke up with her (as Janeway definitely would have mentioned it as evidence of him acting strange if she knew about it) which makes sense on several different fronts but also makes me scream and cry loud enough to break glass.

#it reminds me of that time in 'Alice' (NOT related as vis a vis takes place seasons BEFORE 'Alice') but when B'Elanna says Tom:#'practically assaulted me' Janeway's not taking it seriously at all she says 'that doesn't sound like Tom' and I was like CAPTAIN??? DEATH?#but again that has no bearing on this in-universe bc that hasn't happened yet. REALLY I'm screaming and crying about B'Elanna's self esteem #issues which Steth literally manifested the worst case scenario of #Tom's little gesture when he gets back also goes over so well bc of this in MY mind.#Tom wanting her and Tom being with her is something B'Elanna wants regardless of how he actually acts in their relationship #(as long as it isn't abusive). He rarely puts her first without prompting or complaining BUT...he's a handsome human guy who wants her to b #his girlfriend. Ostensibly. And that's a prize you wanna hold onto.#God I love B'Elanna............#did she tell ANYONE or did she just sit with that interaction alone???#her not telling anyone implies that she DIDN'T go 'hey that's not like Tom! I should inform the captain of this incident!'#and that KILLS me dude...she's not like 'Something's terribly wrong with Tom or maybe that's an imposter!' she's like 'Tom said/did that to #me.' SCREAMING. SCREAMING. TOM. YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS /BAD/ WITH B'ELANNA.

158 notes · View notes

paingoes · 3 months ago

Text

Crash Out

Itch

(Content: ex-whumper, whumper turned whumpee, physical violence, addiction, past abuse, fainting, minor insects/insect bites, minor ableist language, homophobia mention)

The old irritation was back and biting. Throwing his phone into the creek had helped a little bit. Being away from the throne had helped a little bit. The drugs only ever made it worse and the drugs were all he had. He twitched endlessly. He hadn’t realize how badly he needed it until the urge was right on top of him.

He couldn’t break anything around Lorelai. The only time he’d tried that, she’d starting packing her bags, and they’d had to pay the hotel staff off for the damages. It was the closest she’d come to leaving him, right then and there. Nonstarter.

She noticed it this time, but she mistook it for withdrawal. He was seldom down long enough for the lapse to start really hurting, but she could still see the signs when they came. She ran her fingers over his temple in an attempt to be soothing. It only made the burning worse. He bit into his own hand just to feel the pressure.

Another club. Better maintained on the inside than the others had been. It was a pity they had set it out in the middle of the swamp like that. The whole city was built on top of the wetland. The air burned with heat even at the darkest time of night. Lorelai had bought a pointy pair of pink sunglasses and a snapback that said LIFE’S A BEACH. She lost both of them an hour after they had entered the club and soon after he lost sight of her all together.

Thank god.

He knew so intuitively what he had to do. His knocked his shoulder straight into the boy’s side as he passed. The drink spilled and his hands didn’t leave his pockets. The club was crowded and his movement was subtle enough for the whole thing to look accidental, if you weren’t paying close attention.

“Say excuse me, asshole.” He heard the boy hiss out from behind him. Paris had to wipe the smirk off his face before he turned around.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” It melted into a glare. He didn’t need to force the irritation into his voice; it was right beneath the surface. He only needed to reshape it. It did not de-escalate from there.

The kid swung on him. Paris slipped to his right. He knew it was unfair. He was — for once — the more sober one in the exchange. His reflexes were overtrained. It didn’t matter. He’d been given an opening. He swung back.

He pulled the punch, the same way he would have if it had been Delta. Not trying to kill him. Not even enough to seriously injure him. Just to do it. He got a few hits in just like that. There wasn’t any adrenaline in his body. All that existed was release.

It was a very funny feeling when the other party fought back.

The fight had to be mutual; he knew that ahead of time. He wasn’t crazy enough to just beat a stranger unprovoked. Still, the resistance he received came as a surprise. He wasn’t used to encountering it while in this headspace. In spite of what he’d planned, it caught him a bit off guard. Not enough to change the outcome, just kind of diminishing what he could get out of it. It shifted back into a normal fight just as soon as the kid had recovered. He was so fucking sick of those. The way they were matched up was decent, though. He gave more than he got, enough that he was momentarily sated.

The bouncers got in the way before he could finish, though. They dragged both of them outside, practically throwing them onto the pavement. Paris landed on his feet, twisting out of their grasp. The other boy landed roughly on his side. All too familiar. The boy sat up, trying to struggle to his feet. The only reason Paris didn’t immediately kick him back down was because he was aware on some level how hard the concrete must be. No broken bones. That was a rule.

He shook his wrists out, ready to draw even more out of the encounter if he could afford it. He rolled his eyes as the club’s doors opened again and the boys’ friends came to the rescue. God fucking dammit.

He was right — the concrete was hard. They were all so fucking drunk and uncoordinated, but there were a lot of them. It was like fighting a moving wall. He wasn’t ready to be on the defensive. Not while he was like this. The most Delta had ever given him in return were cat scratches — sometimes electric shocks, if he was really freaking out. He’d barely even feel them until afterwards. Here, the sharpness of the pain took him out of the mood instantly. The one it forced him into was even stranger. For some reason, he started laughing. One of their fists caught the side of his face. Another half dragged him backwards, making him lose his balance even from a sitting position. He got the preternatural instinct to protect his skull. He felt the hard edge of someone’s boot collide with his interlaced knuckles just as soon as he did so. He’d just barely spared himself the head trauma.

“Not the head, dumbass,” One of them slurred.

“Yeah, dumbass.” Paris was still laughing hysterically. Someone kicked him in the stomach, cutting him off mid-breath.

“He’s fucking insane. Like, mental sickness.” The boy he’d initially started the fight with had started to walk away. “Leave him alone.”

“Pussy.” Paris coughed. He flinched as one of the shapes above him moved, but another hit didn’t come. They withdrew.

He sat up slowly. His knuckles were bloodied, though he did not know if it was his or not. He glanced back at the club doors. The bouncers had been watching the whole thing. They shook their head. No re-entry. As if.

When he was back on his feet, his vision immediately got spotty. He thought it was another insect hallucination, but the movement was much more rapid. Like ink blots. The only reason he bothered to distinguish was because the hallucinations did not usually take up his entire field of vision. They didn’t threaten to take him down again. He blinked in and out of wakefulness and somehow did not stop walking until he heard the sound of waves crashing. Nobody could see the ocean at this time of night, only the darkness that held it. The beachgrass was right off the road. He took about five steps into the sand before he collapsed.

==========

It was the that heat first woke him up. The sun had only just risen over the ocean and already it was unbearable. All his skin felt dry and course. He rose his head up slowly from the dune and immediately regretted it. He hadn’t felt the soreness until he moved; it did not go away again once he stilled.

He blinked. A small caiman laid within the reeds a few feet from his face. They watched each other for some time. Little insects crawled rapid and clumsy throughout the pale grass and into the sand. There was an itch in his arms and his calves. He knew he’d spent the better part of the night getting eaten alive.

He crawled up through the sand. The pavement was too hot to touch; he forced himself to rise. He shook the sand out from his shirt and hair. The sweat that was forming on his skin moistened it, coating him in a gross, muddy substance. The gnats buzzed incessantly. His mouth felt like cotton. Hell on fucking earth.

He trudged the path back to the motel room. He was lucky the spatial memory was still holding up, foggy as all his other facilities had become. Otherwise he’d have been totally lost. Lorelai…wasn’t as good with directions. Hopefully she’d made it back okay.

When he entered into the room, Lorelai was sitting up in the bed in just her camisole. The blanket was crumpled up around her. She looked up expectantly as he walked in. She wasn’t alone.

“Oh my god, you’re still alive.” Lorelai gawked. “Did you get kicked out of the club?”

“No,” he lied.

“So you just left me there alone for no reason?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Very cool of you. I was worried.”

“Clearly not that fucking worried.” His eyes traced over the girl sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her. She was wearing Lorelai’s hoodie, which was technically his hoodie. She was also hitting his vape. She didn’t take any visible offense.

“I should probably head out, anyway.” The girl unfolded her legs and stepped into her slides. She gave Paris a quick once-over as she stood up. “You’d better take some Nexgard. The sand fleas burrow.”

He could immediately feel the itch, even knowing it was psychosomatic. She slipped the door open.

“You’ll call me?” Lorelai called after her hopefully. The girl winked without smiling and disappeared behind the closing door.

Paris held one open hand up in the direction she had left in. The universal — one-handed — what-the-fuck? gesture.

“What?” Lorelai’s tone was defensive. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

“We are on the damn lam and you’re inviting people back to our room?”

“Relax. She’s rebel. She was at Occupy.”

He could’ve guessed. Any breed of deviant sexuality typically signaled rebel allegiance. God knew Empire wouldn’t have them. That didn’t necessarily put his mind at ease, but he’d have preferred to be caught by one of the rebel groups over Nezu if it really came down to it. Lorelai held up a large envelope from the nightstand.

“She asked if I could drop this off for her at Coda since we’re already headed North.” She smiled a little.

“Fuck no.”

“Well, it’s my ship and I’m driving, so we’re probably gonna. But we can talk about it.”

There was definitely an edge to her voice. He didn’t answer, knowing there was nothing he could do but irritate her further. He moved past her.

“You should shower,” she suggested helpfully.

“I’m gonna shower.”

……..

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #ex-whumper #whumper turned whumpee #physical violence #addiction #past abuse #fainting #insects #insect bites #crash out #paris #lorelai #vi #(vi is the girl)#patch notes: paris got himself physically and emotionally dependent on violence just to self regulate #lorelai is bisexual! and decency laws exist in the empire!#i was conflicted about including it cause its space but the empire is cishetero patriarchal. i already established it was patriarchal #so even if male homosexuality was allowed lesbianism would still be considered deviant.#i think the combination of heteronormativity within empire and the fact that lorelai is out to paris is some p important information about #the nature of their relationship #namely that their little heterosexual pastiche is kind of tongue-in-cheek

24 notes · View notes

cordycepsbian · 3 months ago

Text

bug fabl dragon designs

#bug fables #bf vi #bf leif #stuff i made tag #we were picturing kabbu as a regular human guy dragon rider in this scenario which is why he isnt here #only leif is big enough to actually sit on. vi is like the size of a gila monster #you Might be able to tell that we were feeling nostalgic for the httyd books today #which is why vi looks like book toothless but mixed with an alien cat

25 notes · View notes

thistle-caster · 3 months ago

Text

I’m so normal about the inner lives of all the nsbu nobodies what do you mean

#totally normal about how no one believes dang despite facing arguably more nonsensical and outrageous scenarios #totally normal about usha being unwilling to change and eventually being deserted in tech #totally normal about liv and how she steals bc she vies for control in her life #totally normal about paula donvalson and how she seeks don and expects to see it in lucy and then sees it in cosmo instead #about wendell and him being the ‘runt’ or the looked over one and then being chastised by the person whose body he’s inhabiting too #and russell and his relationship with loneliness and his existence in general #god.#yeah normal about them #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #nsbu spoilers #nsbu

30 notes · View notes

thegodmother007 · 6 months ago

Text

My New Neighbor Chapter 2: Close Call with Neighbors

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

It’s been a busy month for me but I am finally settled into my new place & getting the hang of the new job. I was lucky enough to have been bartending at Dale & Cruster’s prior to my move, so a transfer to the closest location to my new place was the easiest part of my transition, so far. Everything else has been..a challenge, putting it lightly. On my move-in day, I encountered quite a few comments about how my furniture looked like “Doll’s furniture” by some of the giant apartment residents passing by. A few times, I turned to see a few of them watching me struggle with furniture they could have held in their hands. I felt a sense of embarrassment when I noticed them staring, but I tried not to let it show. I reminded myself multiple times that Humans have their strengths & weaknesses and giants have their strengths & weaknesses. I am great at other things like my bartending, I am a fantastic guitar player (at least I would like to think so) & I can make a mean steak. I doubt any other resident of the apartment complex can claim all three of those things.

In the days following moving in, I experienced first hand how careless the other residents can be. On a Tuesday afternoon, I was headed out of my place to start my 2pm-10pm shift at Cruster’s but was unnecessarily stopped from getting into my mustang. A giant man was on his porch, smoking what smelled like a spliff, which would have been fine IF he was not supposed to be watching his son. When I entered the parking lot, I noticed his son, a giant himself easily towering almost 40ft, playing with his toy cars, scattered around my very real car. I quickened my pace, shoving my fear of the giant child aside, keeping my eyes on my baby, my Ford Mustang GT. “Hey!” I yelled towards the child who, as curiosity would have it, finally picked up my car to inspect it, like one of his toys. I ran towards the child who sits cross-legged in the parking lot. The boy’s attention gravitates towards me & my yelling “Put my car down, now! That is not a toy & you should not be touching it!” I stopped running towards the kid when I noticed a surprised look and a twinkle of mischief shining in his eye. He looked at my car, then back down at me, where I could see the gears in his mind turning. With the hand closest to me, he reaches over towards me, trying to grab me. I was lucky though, as his first attempt at snatching me up was missed. I backed up quickly as the child went to stand, my baby still in his hand. I kept my eyes on him as I backed away, noticing the sticky finger prints he was leaving on the black paint of my freshly waxed mustang. Once the kid stood, he towered over me, blocking out the sun that shone behind him. My nerves were on fire as my instinct to run kicked in, but I did not want to leave my car in the hands of a child who could cost me thousands in damage. However, it was clear upon the first step he took towards me, that running was my best option. I turned and ran as fast as my legs would take me, which compared to the kid, wasn’t very fast. I spotted the father again, who from a distance, was trying to make out what his son was doing. “Sir! Please help me!” I called out to the man who was now standing up, aware of the unfolding situation. I look behind me to see the smile on the child’s face as he has caught up to me and was swiftly reaching down to grab me once again. Thankfully, the deep thunder of his father’s voice rang out “DYLAN!” He shouted, which stopped both of us in our tracks. Dylan looked up to his father who was now marching over to where his son & I were in the parking lot. As the huge man approached, I was not sure how thankful I was that he was intervening, as the closer he got, the weaker my legs felt.

I did what I could not to hurt my neck when I looked up, up, up to the father’s face, which peered down to where I was. Dylan’s father noticed that his son held a car which did not belong to him or belong to the collection he brought outside. With one word, Dylan’s father was able to force the child to follow the directions I failed at, earlier. “Gimme” his father said in a stern and cold voice, holding out his hand to his son, who promptly handed him my Ford Mustang. The father inspected it and for a moment, I wondered if he planned on keeping it for himself. It was not unheard of for a giant to collect cars, as they did not have access to them personally. Cars were strictly a human thing, while giants were tasked with walking, biking or commuting via train or trolly. My thoughts were interrupted by the father directing his child to “Get inside.” Which was met with little protest besides an annoyed sigh from Dylan. Once Dylan left, his father looked to me, who was doing everything in my power not to shake or seem intimidated. His father gently placed my car down next to me, while taking a knee “I don’t see any damage to the vehicle.” He says, not considering the damage to my pride, but I say nothing in return. His knee thudded with a noticeable tremor into the concrete of the parking lot, which I could feel up my spine. He crouches down, laying a hand on the ground next to me, examining me next. “Are you new to the apartment?” He asks me, undoubtedly getting a closer look at the Human he does not recognize. “Y-yes” I said with a humiliating crack to my voice, which I was quick to cover with a clearing of my throat & further elaboration “Yes, I moved in this last week. I’m Cain” I said with a deep bow. Shaking hands with a giant was not customary, as the danger of injury was ever present, so you bow as an alternative. The man nodded his head at me, as an informal bow back to me. “My name is Brax, been living here for about a year and a half, give or take. Not many humans live in this complex, I wasn’t sure if they were even offering the housing program anymore seeing as so few humans took advantage of it.” He is trying to strike up a conversation with me, great. Just what I needed after narrowly escaping his son’s attempt at playing with me like I was one of his toys. But what else can I do in this situation besides make nice with the man who was easily 75 feet tall and was just holding my car in his hand. I take a breath and put on the false bravado that gets me tips at work & got me accepted into the program “Well, you can’t beat these rent prices! It was just too good to pass up!” I say trying to make light of the situation, hoping to get rid of the feeling of body numbing fear I had at this moment. The giant man nods his head in agreement “You’ve got that right! I figured it was a really good way to introduce my children to humans, now that we’re integrated. Which, by the way, sorry about Dylan.” The man brings an embarrassed hand to the back of his neck where he rubs it anxiously. “He is a handful and often gets into things he shouldn’t. I usually let him play with his cars in the parking lot because no one ever parks here, until now. I’ll have him play with his cars somewhere else, out of your way.” I couldn’t help but let my jaw go slack for a moment as he apologized for his son’s behavior. I was quick to close my mouth before I caught some flies & was noticed. “I-um, yes that would be great, thank you. And don’t worry, kids are going to be kids, right?” I wondered if there was more to what he was going to say. But he didn’t, he smiled and rolled his eyes “You’re telling me. But let me get out of your way, Cain, I need to go have a talk with Dylan.” He said, giving me a wink as he stood, which both comforted me and unsettled me. I hope he is not too much of a disciplinarian, I would hate to be on Dylan’s bad side.

All I did was wave back at Brax as he turned to leave, his sandaled feet shaking the ground with every titanic step he took back towards his home. I got in my car with bile seeping up my throat as I spotted the ghosts of grimy fingerprints on my windows. I thought back to 5 minutes ago, when Dylan’s hand was wrapped around my vehicle. I anxiously thought about how different this story would have been if I were already in my car when he grabbed it. I couldn't jump out & scream for help like I had earlier. There would be no way out unless the boy let me go. I recall the flash of mischief I saw in his eye when he decided to pick up my car. I remember the look of desire he had when looking at me, like I was a shiny new toy for him to break. My mind was racing with all the possible outcomes that could have happened today, leading me to have to stop a panic attack from coming on before my shift.

I stroked the dashboard of my car, as if it was the one about to have a panic attack, when the reality was it was me who needed comforting. I assured myself that I was okay & my baby was okay, trusting that Brax would ensure Dylan stays away from me. A few moments of breathing later, a wave of relief washed over me when I started the car up with no issues. The revving of her engine was enough to send goosebumps up my arms as I listened to her purr. “Thank God” I thought to myself. Last thing I want to do is go back to Brax & ask him for compensation for the damages his kid made to my car. “If I had it my way, I would never have to talk to either of them again.” I thought as I pulled out of the parking lot, hoping to God my shift would be an easy one.

Previous ||| Next

26 notes · View notes