#y’all need to read mask of fear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladyelissarose · 2 years ago

Text

‘Compromised’

Characters; Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley + Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

Warnings; It’s mostly pretty funny and cheesy... buuuut a little suggestive in the end ;) if y’all want a more specified warnings it’s basically two large guys in an awkward position in a sticky situation, letting their intrusive thoughts get to them.

Summary; Who thought getting into a mess of a mission would bring out inner thoughts of 2 of the 141’s most toughest soldiers?

Author’s note; This incredible art and fic idea comes from the amazing @lurrlonde !! Thank you again for being so cool! Go check out this guys art y’all!! It’s the best!!

“YOU’RE A COMPLETE IDIOT SOAP!”

“SAYS YE WHO IS A DAFT MINDED BASTARD!”

BANG BANG BANG!!!

Soap ran closely behind Ghost as he shot back at the incoming enemies, who had found their secret hiding spot after Soap let out a ‘louder than expected’ chuckle at a stupid dad-joke Ghost said. It wasn’t really funny anyways. It was a simple-

‘Why is dark spelled with ‘K’ and not a ‘C’? = because you can’t ‘C’ in the dark.’

That was literally it! But Soap was attention deprived and mentally exhausted, that the sudden boost of humor took him over and gave him the giggles. Now they were running for their lives as their position had been found and the Cartels were chasing their asses down. Ghost looked around for any place to hide in for now until Price brought backup, even if it was in a chemical closet or something similar enough. Soap grew a little worried as he could hear how close they were getting on their tails, he knew how outnumbered they were and unfortunately so it was partially his fault.

“Ghost they getting on us-“

“I know- HERE! Come!”

With a harsh jerk Ghost pulled him into a large back room and pointed at the ceiling with a gruff whisper,

“We need to get up there, climb on my shoulders!”

Without asking questions Soap read Ghost’s mind and immediately stepped onto his broad shoulders once he had crouched down enough. Ghost held onto Soap’s legs tightly and slowly lifted himself to a complete stand, ushering him with words to hurry up.

“Hurry Soap, we only have so long.”

“I know Lt. But this vent is all screwed up tight!”

Soap used his knife to unscrew it, sweat dripping down from his hair and covering his entire being from the stress and slight fear he was feeling. Ghost held on tightly and didn’t budge at all, his strength not faltering for now, he was breathing a little harder, but that was it. Near by they could hear loud slamming of doors being opened, meaning they were checking every room. Ghost bit onto his mask and whispered to Soap with concern in his tone,

“Johnny-“

“Got it!! Ok ok I’m pulling up!”

Soap was pretty tough himself and successfully he was able to climb in immediately, his hand now dropping to Ghost as he spoke confidently,

“C‘mon! I got ya mate- hurry!”

Ghost worried for a moment that Soap might not be able to pull him up, as he was much taller and buffier, but he’d have to trust him as he heard louder shouts.

“There’s 4 more rooms left! Check them out now!”

Eyes wide with desperation Soap choked,

“N-Now Ghost!”

With a deep grunt Ghost jumped and caught Soap’s hand, hearing him gasp at the weight he now held and tried to pull up. Maybe on any other day Soap might have had a little struggle, but the fear was so big, it gave enough adrenaline to pull him all the way up. Ghost was pretty surprised but grateful.

Soap dragged him inside and immediately put back the vent cover, making sure it was in perfect place before settling himself in. Only bad thing was, the place was a little compact for two big guys. Soap was left sitting under Ghost who was standing in a squatting position over him. Soap felt just fine but he snapped into Ghost’s reality when he heard him mumble,

“I’ve got to fuckin’-“

thonk!!!

“Shit!! Don’t move Simon!”

Of course air vents were made weak and super cheap to only sustain air, and not necessarily take two tower-built soldiers. With the little movement Ghost had attempted, the whole thing shook and threatened to bent under his foot. Silence filled the area as they awaited their biggest fear of going down and being caught.

“...”

BANG!!

Both men had their hearts beating wildly in their throats as they heard the Cartel under them, searching the entire area (well they thought they did;) Through the mask Ghost’s nervous expression couldn’t be read, but he knew he must’ve looked exactly like Soap who had his eyes blown wide and his face completely pale. It only took a few more minutes until they listened to great news,

“This room is clear! Two guards stay at this door. The rest go to the next then check the perimeter!!”

The sound of loud stomps of running men grew less and less until it couldn’t be heard, only sound remaining were the sighs the soldiers let out at being safe and unseen for now. Johnny shifted a bit and let out a breath of relief, as he looked up to Ghost and asked,

“Ye alright LT?”

Ghost’s eyes locked on his as he curtly replied,

“Yes Sergeant.”

Soap knew that voice, and tone. He thought that perhaps Ghost was still very upset at the whole situation, so he chose to apologize,

“M’sorry LT. ‘bout all this.. I’ll make it up to ya.”

Brown eyes met his blue ones as a low voice responded more calmly but with that same intensity in it,

“It’s not your fault Johnny, we both messed up.”

Soap let a brow perk up as he questioned,

“Are ye upset though?”

Through his eyes Soap could see that Ghost was uncomfortable or that something big was wrong, hence making him keep on asking. Ghost rolled his eyes and muttered,

“Why do you keep asking Soap-“

“I can see it in your eyes Simon, you keep squintin’ and shit, huffing loudly and all. Did ya get shot?”

Ghost muttered a simple ‘no’ and looked away from Soap, bitting his tongue at the stinging pain he felt in his thighs, squatting the entire time was beginning to take a toll on him and leave him burning. But he’d rather die than admit it, he was a tough guy. So slightly he tried to move a bit, but with the soreness and burn of it all he let out a deep groan and stopped moving.

“Agh.. fuckin hell-“

“What is it LT?”

Ghost tired to move his legs a bit but they burned so much like if someone was laying a steaming pan on his thighs. Soap looked up at him with his baby blues and asked again with concern,

“Lt? Ya good?”

Simon was dreading to confess the truth behind why he was groaning an shifting uncomfortably, but Johnny was genuinely being very nice, and would probably be understanding too. Concerning the fact that it was his fault they were there in the first place. Simon’s rolled his eyes and finally huffed out,

“My legs are burnin’ Johnny.. in this position. And I can’t sit cause there’s no room... might make a lot of noise too-“

Heat rose up to Simon’s cheeks as he was cut off of words, at the feeling of two hands press up against his bottom, and lift him up slightly. He couldn’t be oblivious or stupid and ask himself,

‘Who the heck has their hands on my ass?’

Because only he and ‘Johnny’ were in the damn air vent. But he nonetheless asked this, as he didn’t know what else to say at the unexpected act,

“Johnny.. what the fock-“

Johnny unapologetically gave a light squeeze as to emphasize what he was doing while responding defensively,

“Lt you said you wanted to sit but couldn’t.. now I’m helpin’ ya. See?”

Another light squeeze*

Breath hitching and sweating out nervousness, Simon could only sigh out,

“A’ight Johnny, just no squeezing.”

“Why?”

Wha- why? Johnny it’s my ass-“

“But I’m helping ya Lt-“

“And that’s it-“

“I get to do whatever I want with this ass as I’m holding it up on my own will Simon-“

“It’s still my ass and I said don’t-“

Squeeze*

“Soap. No.”

“But-“

“I get you’ve been eyeballin’ my arse sense the first day but c’mon.”

Johhny’s bit back a gasp,

“You knew!”

Huffing lightly Ghost stated,

“I’m quiet but not stupid Jonnny.”

A small embarrassed smile took place on Johnny at his words, adding with hesitation,

“oh... is it ok?”

“I’s more than fine Johnny, just not now-“

“But it’s the perfect time!”

“For whot exactly Sergeant?”

Simon knew exactly to the ‘T’ what Johnny was referring to, but he wanted him to say it. Johnny’s cheeks grew a little pink, and his eyes were sparkling like a puppy’s, ever so desperate but shy all at once to say his inner desires. Simon laughed internally at this Scot’s sudden shyness, as he was always so loud and out-spoken. Though he knew he wouldn’t mind a little fun, he couldn’t deny that the Scottish blue-eyed soldier was on his mind half- no more than all the time, Johnny practically lived in his head.

Ghost inched his hand towards Soap’s face and caressed it, feeling peace at his actions when Soap leaned into his touch.

“I know Johnny... but there’s other times for it- like safer.”

With a simple nod Soap agreed. But he couldn’t resist the feeling of Ghost’s ass in his hold, giving him the sudden urge of tease to bring his hands closer to the crotch, all while watching Ghost closely for his reaction- which came fast. And unexpectedly his quickest reflex was to grasp Soap’s Mohawk tightly, earning him a whimper.

‘Jesus Soap you’ll be the death of me.’

“J-Johnny! Please, I will grow hard-“

Smirking wickedly Soap teased,

“What if that’s what I want? Hm? Then I’ll have a reason to help you out...”

Being impressed wasn’t the word to describe how Ghost felt, more like flustered and very hot now.

“Smart bastard.”

“Only the best Lt-“

And with that he rubbed Ghost’s entire crotch area with his palm, receiving a jerk of Ghost’s hips and a low moan,

“Ahh Johnny.. slow down.”

“Yeahhh give me a minute. Let’s move a bit.”

Soap extended his knees towards Ghost and let them hold him up now, like a chair. Ghost sighed in relief at being seated now, and thought that was the end of it until he heard a zipper and hands on him.

ziiiip!

“Fuck Johnny!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Knowing how desperate he was for release- more than anything Soap’s hands on him, he couldn’t say no.

“No.. go on!”

Face lighting up like Christmas Soap cheered to himself,

“Fuuuuck yeahhh-“

“GHOST! SOAP!! You boys alright!!”

Soap facepalmed and Ghost groaned upset as they recognized Price’s voice call out to them from under the vent. With a frown Soap zipped up Ghost’s pants as Ghost responded,

“Yeah, were good.. we’ll be coming down now.”

“Alright boys! Gaz will be here with a ladder... we already took out the guys and secured the leader... we can go now.”

Soap responded,

“Sounds good Captain, on our way.”

Slowly Ghost started to move, but Johnny pulled him back and whispered,

“We’ll continue right?”

A smile was known to be on Ghost’s face as his eyes crinkled. He lightly pinched Soap’s cheek and sassed,

“You said you’d make it up to me. I expect you do, in many ways.”

Soap groaned and smacked Ghost’s ass as he began to move off to get out,

“You bet I will Simon.”

Ghost looked back at him with sharp eyes, making Soap lift his hands in surrender.

“Easy Sergeant... easy...”

#ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #john soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #soap call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #soap cod #cod ghost #cod soap #cod mw2 #john mctavish #simon riley

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bleue-flora · 7 days ago

Note

just realized i’ve been following your work for over 2 and a half years

Wait… really?! Have I even been here that long? Wow. You must have been here from the beginning then. Well, for real, thank you for sticking around and supporting me. :) It’s been a crazy ride, anon, and I’m glad I have been able to entertain you along the way. <3 <3 <3

Yeah, I just checked and looks like I posted the first chapter of my first ever fanfiction on November 5, 2022 after being encouraged by @monsoonrays to post the scene I wrote of Dream’s Twitter space scrapped lore because I just wanted to know what it could have been like and since I didn’t find many people writing it, I decided to do it myself lol. I didn’t necessarily plan on sharing it though, it was more so just for me and I never intended to write more, the other three chapters just kinda happened after the Las Nevadas stream gave me staged duo brain rot (I’ve never recovered)…

But ya know I figured maybe what’d be really fun to look at, now that we’re getting all nostalgic, is my very first draft just to see how far I’ve come and just to say, don’t let your grammar or verbiage or whatever keep you from writing, because you can edit, and improve, and get help, and ya know it’s also okay to have scuffed grammar or not be the best writer. For years I didn’t write because I thought I couldn’t, that I was bad at it, that I wasn’t creative enough, that my grammar and spelling were too bad to be a writer. And now, despite adhd, dyslexia, and a reading comprehension disorder, I have posted 182,135 words to ao3. In large part thanks to y’all’s support and encouragement and appreciation. <3 <3 So, to anyone who needs to hear this, don’t let your weaknesses hold you back. I thought I couldn’t write, I thought I couldn’t draw people, I thought I couldn’t make a cool YouTube video. And yet, here I am, over 2 years later, with 4 figure art pieces, 9 ao3 posted works and a couple cool YouTube videos (not to mention a crap ton of Tumblr essays lol…)

And without further or do let’s go back to the beginning, back to my brain in October 2022, during the height of senior engineering midterms and still recovering from a concussion…

Scrapped Lore - Ch 1 of Hell in a Box

————————————————————

Thoughts racing in his head as he follows the coords his ally has provided. The gentle wind brushing surprisingly cold sand against his armor. A feeling of confidence and protection engulfing him with his netherite. His smug grin hidden under the mask. He didn’t have this before. Let’s see how Quackity does in a fair fight. Before he knows it, he’s arrived at his destination. A stair case before him leading to what appears to be an underground base. Quackity’s name tag is below, so Dream enters. Despite the growing unease in his chest. Despite the fear creeping its way up his body. He ignores the warnings of the inside voice telling him to run, as he pursues, revenge consuming his mind.

He makes his way down the stairs into the darkness and before he can even think or take in his surroundings, it’s raining potions, the all too nostalgic sound of glass shattering, running a shiver down his back. Weakness. Blindness. Nausea. Harming. His knees buckle, his body collapses. The world appears to be spinning as if tilted on its axis. His vision begins to go dark, and he just hopes that what he sees is a drug caused hallucination. That the rough dark obsidian and the old familiar room is just his mind running with panic, playing tricks on him, joining the chemicals swimming through his veins. It wasn’t.

Slowly Dream’s mind begins to make its way back to consciousness and into his body. Before he opens his eyes, he can feel the thick coarse texture of rope wound tight against his skin. From head to toe he’s tied in a cruel-fully painful manner. In what seems to be a rather excessive amount of rope. Almost as if the person or persons were deeply afraid of his escape. They are right of course to be afraid. He’s not the bloody, weak, frail thing he was in prison. Well not completely, anyways. Around his neck, lies rope tightly attached to his hands, constraining a good amount of his already limited air flow. Adding to the anxiety and panic making its way through his lungs. He’s completely restricted in his attempts to escape, all movement tugging at the rope around his neck. He can’t breathe. His hands pulled through the wooden bars of the back of a chair, tied behind him and the oh so nostalgic feeling of the wooden chair beneath him. Well, ain’t this familiar. It’s not made for torture though, no armrests to bind his hands for removing nails, no smell of blood stains on the wood. Yet. But it’s not The chair, and as pathetic as it sounds he can’t help but be a little comforted by that fact. That observation keeping him sane. It’s not the same. It’s not the same. It’s not the same. He’s not back. He made it out. He’ll make it out again. Maybe.

Thrown out of his thoughts, he realizes that he can hear voices. Through his head is pounding headache, a likely result from the shear about of drugs in his system, he can make out the distinct voice of Quackity and Sam speaking on what to do with him. What he wouldn’t give to never hear their voices again. Never hear his name from their lips. Yet here he is, again, tied to a godforsaken chair ready for another session with his tormentors. Armor-less. Alone. Helpless. It’s like nothing has changed, his weeks of healing vanished at the scene. He can’t make out the whole conversation but focusing he make out, “Should we just kill him?…Can’t put him back now….We should kill him the same way he did you…Don’t you want revenge, Sam?...I say it’s time for someone else to lose an eye to a fucking pickaxe!... Let’s do it with the same one, his, oh the irony!...” His ears specifically pick up the all too familiar, sadistic gleeful tone of Quackity, sending an involuntary shutter through him. As he feared, they’re going to kill him. What a waste, months of torture, isolation, starvation and for what? For them to put him out of his misery now. What’s the point? It can’t have all been for nothing! He can’t have made it through this year, just to die here, bound to this chair at the scene of his endless nightmares, like he never left.

He hears footsteps leading away from him, an angry yet cheerful rhythm that he immediately recognizes as Quackity. Despite the circumstances, he can’t help but feel relief at the distance gained between him and his torturer. The nostalgic sound of redstone activating, signaling his exit, and probably bringing down the lava wall.

Reluctantly Dream’s eyes open and he peaks with a sense of dread washing over him. Please don’t let it be real. Please be a dream. Unfortunately, to his dismay, a lava wall falls before him, blocking his exit, the far too reminiscent sound of its loud flow buzzing in his ears. Oh, how he wishes it would stop! Oddly, he’s not sure how to feel. If he should be horrified to be trapped yet again by the warm liquid or glad that it’s blocking out Quackity. But he can’t help but feel relieved. The familiar lava, his twisted form of protection, yet again. Not that it’ll last.

He’s positioned in the middle of the cell room and his initial observations prove his suspicions correct. Oh, how he wishes he was wrong. The chest, the cauldron, the purple tears falling from the ceiling, even the crying obsidian seems to be placed in the exact same spots. He would know. It’s all a bit too real, too reminiscent. He can feel the rough obsidian pressed against the soles of his scarred bare feet. It can’t be the vault though. He has the key, it’s his. His hell turned home. His vulnerability turned protection. He’s not afraid. It doesn’t matter. It’s not the room he fears it’s his situation. And yet, he can’t help but feel the dread and fear crawl its way through him at the sight of the replica before him.

Taking in his surroundings, he hears the other pair of boots grumpily trot closer until what he knows to be Sam is standing rather close to him. Sam hasn’t noticed he’s awake yet, or he is ignoring him. He has mastered that skill after all. He never listened before. He never gave into mercy while hearing his screams. But he’s not the same Sam. He’s not the Warden anymore. This is different! There’s a chance.

So, as a last straw to save his neck once again, he thinks up what to say. Manipulation is his strength after all, even if he’s minutes away from a full blow panic attack, Even if it’s life or death. Oh, how this feels like de ja vou. He made Sam his bitch after all, he can do this.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Dream mumbles still kinda out of it, “S-Sam…”

Sam’s head immediately whips around, to him, locking his gaze. Meeting the crazed smily mask sending an involuntary shutter down his spine at the sight of his murderer. That’s quickly accompanied by a satisfied grin making its way up his face at the man’s predicament.

“Look—look who’s awake!… Dream, the most 'powerful' man on the server, bound helplessly to a chair, again. Who’s the idiot now?” Sam smirks back.

Despite his words, Dream can see the uneasiness in his form, his facial expressions not fully matching his words. Ignoring Sam’s bait, Dream instead causally asks, tone smooth and surprisingly calm, “How—how have you been Sam?”

Sam rightfully taken aback by the friendly coolness in Dream’s tone, looks at the man again, vision a bit blurry at the sight of the haunting smile. Without realizing he mindlessly utters, “Good I guess… I mean—What do you—?… You—you killed me Dream! What do you mean how have I been?” His confused tone turning loud and angry with great momentum.

Unfazed by the revelation, Dream reasons back, voice steady, despite the slight tremor in his hands and the suppressed flinch at the raised voice, “To—to be fair… I only killed you once and you know, you can be hurt about it, but that—that was justified. You abused your power over me in prison, so I took a life. Quackity took time out of his day to visit me, for months, just to inflict pain and misery” Joyfully fulfilling his cruelest fantasies. Doing unspeakable things that not even the darkest nightmares could come up with. Things not even Dream would have ever considered. The Unfathomable, Indescribable, creativity in making hell on earth. “So you know, I came here to kill him…” Dream pauses, Quackity’s name on his tongue sending involuntary shivers down his back and a hitch in his shallow breath. He doesn’t say how he’s just hoping this will help him sleep through the night for once. Or how he’s desperately grasping at something to mend his broken mind and body. How he’s trying to feel safe instead of afraid.

Finding his voice again, “All of us—all of us have our reasons. You know, we are all right from our point of view… But I would say that—that the books are balanced between us. You know, I’ve left you alone. I released you from Tubbo’s imprisonment. I fed you steak, cake and even—even golden apples when they left you to starve. You know, I haven’t destroyed anything on the server. I haven’t imprisoned or tortured or waged war. All I’ve done is try and live, hunted down like—like an animal by the entire server.”

“Oh come on, Dream, don’t act all innocent. We both know you’re not.”

Annoyed, Dream responds coolly, “Innocent? No one’s innocent, Sam. Not—not you. Not me. Not Quackity. N-not anyone! You know, we all have enemies. We’ve all wronged each other for our own reasons. But I’m not your enemy. I’m not the—not the bad guy. I’m not—I’m not pure evil.”

“So you say... I should— I should just what?… Let you go because you 'let me off easy' because you’re not—not evil?…” Sam’s voice rising again, ebbing with mock pity. A stroke of anger burning in him, “You haven’t—you haven’t yet? As if that’s a comfort! As if that washes your slate clean! As if I can leave here and not fear you coming after me, the rest of the server… and T-Tommy! As if—as if you didn’t murder me while I was defenseless, after I gave you access to the prison!”

Dream suppresses a wince from the tone and for the briefest moment fear, panic and anger pass across his face. No one notices.

In a much more hushed defeated tone Dream somewhat desperately voices, “You know. he’s—he’s going to kill me, Sam.”

Silence falls between the two for a brief moment, before Dream continues, “He’s going to—he’s going to take my last life… and you know unlike your death, he’s going to drag it out to a painfully slow degree. Butchering me like I’m—I’m nothing but a cow for his dinner… I’m a person, Sam, a member of this smp. I may—I may not be the 'good guy' b—but you know I’m not the big bad they make me out to be and neither are you.”

“I’m not like you! Of course, I’m—I’m not the bad guy!” Sam states firm, voice shaking from that last insinuation.

Dream lowers his head, the yelling is really not helping his ponding headache nor his panic. It’s all a bit too familiar to everyday in his cell. Him trying to reason with the Warden Sam for any spec of mercy. Being denied because ‘he deserves it.’ He made the rules of the prison after all.

Another moment of silence passes between them. Dream barely keeping at bay the sense of dread rising through him, the feeling of defeat and hopelessness washing over him. His hindered breath becoming more and more labored as his body holds still, waiting for what’s to come. He’s running out of time and Sam wasn’t budging, not that Dream’s surprised. Just as stubborn as always in his righteousness and fury. Still intent on allowing the walls to be painted with Dream’s blood for his wrongdoings.

His panic just continues to get worse the longer he’s here. Trapped in a perfect replica of the cell that backdrops the scenes of his never ending nightmares. He wonders if maybe insanity has really taken him over. Maybe Punz was right that one can only endure so much before they crack. That people have limits before they break. Because right now he can’t help but smile. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen making it to his brain. Maybe it’s because he’s finally greeting death like a friend. Maybe because he too can see the sadistic irony of his situation. Maybe because what else can he do after all, that’s what his mask made him, a smile. Nothing more. Nothing further than the smooth white surface. A seemingly sadistic pleasure painted on. No man behind the mask. Just a simple smile for all to see. A monster to haunt nightmares. An emotionless, unfeeling predator without motivations. But don’t predators also have motivations and reasons? Aren’t predators also prey? Don’t snakes bite to protect themselves and their nest? Not to be cruel but out of necessity and instinct.

Insanity or not, Dream can feel himself slipping into the darkness but he is nothing if not stubborn. He’s nothing if not desperate to live. Even when it would be easier to let go. Even when death would be a mercy. Even at the times when life was endlessly unbearable. He’ll be damned if he lets Sam feel like the good guy in his last moments. If he lets Sam and Quackity keep their hypocritical, self righteous, satisfied smiles at the sight of his misery.

So Dream, face stretching into a grin, mutters under his breath, “P—Prove it.” A challenge, born of desperation and anger.

“W—What?” Sam voices, caught off guard by the end in silence.

“You know, prove that you—that you are not the bad guy!” Dream lifts his head to meet Sam’s gaze and smugly smiles under the mask. Because if he doesn’t he might just let the sobs of fear and despair escape him. An anxiety attack of anguish held back only by his pride. Because if he doesn’t smile, maybe Sam won’t see him as the strong and dangerous monster but as a human being.

“Prove that you aren’t me or Quackity. That you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man to satisfy revenge. That you know—you are good and do things for the good of others... If I —I die today the revive book dies with me. Can you really say that’s for the best? That you know… that—that price is worth paying for revenge?

An deathly silence falls again. Sam pauses in his pacing to look at Dream. Meeting his gaze, Dream can see that Sam’s face shows he’s thinking about and considering something. At the sight, Dream can’t help but feel a fragile hope build in his aching chest. That perhaps today won’t be his last. That perhaps people do change. Perhaps there is such thing as mercy. But he can’t fully embrace it, because he knows he could lose that hope in an instant. The one attachment he could never seem to sever and loses far too often anyways. He clings to it desperately watching Sam’s every movement. Holding in what little oxygen he can get in his lungs, ready to release with either relief or despair.

Sam begins to move again, seemingly making up his decision and pulls out his sword with one smooth movement. Sending uncontrollable panic through Dream. Breathing becoming impossible, mind and sight losing focus as Sam approaches, sword in hand. This is it. Sam’s going to kill him. Perhaps this is the mercy he deserves. Sam will be quicker than Quackity at least. The sword comes up under his chin pushing his head up to face Sam’s glare. He can’t look though he doesn’t want the last thing for him to see to be his former friend’s righteous fury. Disappointment. Disgust. Or whatever emotions clear on his face depicting his intent to kill him off for the last time. A red drop of blood falls slowly down his neck at the sword’s pressure, but then there’s the sound of rope being cut, releasing the painful pressure from around his throat. He finally breathes, looks up, and meets Sam’s eyes. Oh? Is that regret?…pity?… Doesn’t matter. It’s not anger, it’s not self righteous fury, it’s not the look intent on taking one’s final life. If he squints hard enough he can even see his former friend’s gaze. At the sight, Dream can’t help but feel the ghostly warmth of Sam’s hug and smile at the past memories. Of fishing together on the docks of the house he once built. Sam’s laughter and ambitions filling his ears, tearing through his already mangled heart. A brief moment of actually good memories filling his head, a welcomed change. And then it’s gone, a mere second over, Sam’s face replaced with one of determination as he continues to saw through the rest of the ropes, seemingly intent on not nicking Dream with his sword in the process but failing in some places. He’d be lying if despite the ropes being cut, the sword’s proximity was still causing slight panic that only worsened when Sam moves behind him. But then it was over, his hands free, already beginning to regain some feeling in them. Sam turns, flicks a lever the all too nostalgic sound of the lava lowering, opening his way out. Or his torturer’s way in. He turns to Sam who’s not making eye contact with him, and whispers a hushed hesitant, “thank you” before bolting out of the room.

Not wanting to test his luck any further. He makes his way to the light, just in time too, as he sees Quackity making his way through the desert back to the entrance. He sneaks around, narrowly missing Quackity’s line of sight and speedily goes from corner to corner hiding from sight best he could. He may be out, but he’s still screwed. He has no armor. No weapons. He has nothing. It’s at this point when the panic that subsided comes back full force. The sound of an alarm begins to go off as a message appears in the chat calling for everyone to search Las Nevadas for him. Fuck. Looking around he spots a cave and runs like there’s no tomorrow, because there may not be one toward the nearby cave.

Slumping down the wall as he attempts to pull air into his lungs as fast as possible. Adrenaline and anxiety adding to his already out of shape body making it really hard to breathe. His mind going through a million plans of how to escape the city, when he hears a voice that sends an involuntary shiver down his back. The former president’s propaganda about him ringing in his ears, he spins round to meet Wilbur’s gaze, who whispers confused, “Why are we hiding?”

Here’s the link to read what happens next and the current version which has like another 1000 or so more words cuz ya know, I can’t help but add angst :)

#what happened to the punctuation? why are some things bold and not? I got no idea….. lol #and looks like I my first dsmp Tumblr post was back in April 11th 2023 where Dreamcatcher was put in a poll against NEFTW and I was estacti #like you can’t even compare me to that but it was so cool #dreblr #dsmp #c!dream and c!sam #scrapped lore #c!dream #flora writes things #hello there #but seriously thanks for the support I’m glad I can have entertained you over these years and you’ve enjoyed my madness :) <3 #… wow I feel old now I really can’t believe it’s been so long…

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wyvernne · 1 year ago

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see you through til the day’s end (rewrite) teaser

taking a quick study break to post this for y’all. i have not read over it again nor has it been edited, so forgive me for any errors. i know a lot of you are also dealing with final exams, so good luck, and remember to take care of yourselves!!

————-

It was a stupid way to get caught. You’re not sure if it was the cold that dumbed you down, dulled your senses so gravely.

You slipped. That’s all it took. A single misstep is going to cost you your life.

What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance on the growing Fatui encampments has quickly become the site of the last moments of your life.

You sigh. What a pathetic way to die. The soldiers did quite a number on you, too. You’re sure you have at least a concussion. Maybe a few broken ribs.

You tug halfheartedly on your restraints. The Fatui are no strangers to taking captives. Of course they know how to keep one tied down.

“Oh? What little mouse fell into the trap?” You freeze. It’s a voice you’ve only heard once before.

Your heart thumps sickeningly in your chest for a beat before you raise your head. It’s… a different one. A little older, but still a young man.

Dottore smiles at you. His face is entirely obscured by his mask, save for his eerie, chilling grin.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of officially meeting before,” you offer. You try not to sound afraid. Your heartbeat gives you away, certainly. You’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

Dottore’s smile never changes. “Is that so? You seem quite familiar.” He tilts his head. “Ah. Perhaps it’s the scent of the Abyss. It does quite remind me of that young man.”

He must be talking about the eleventh. You grit your teeth. “You must be mistaken.”

“Surely not,” Dottore replies pleasantly. He’s taking his sweet time getting to the point, really.

“Ah, that’s it!” He snaps his fingers dramatically, as if he’s suddenly remembered a particularly amusing factoid. “You’ve been in the company of a certain young winery owner before, too.”

A chill slips down your spine. You maintain your smile. “I’m merely a distant associate.”

Dottore’s doesn’t even grace you with a response, and the silence makes your heart beat faster.

You continue speaking, struggling to keep your voice steady. “I’m flattered that a lord harbinger himself is even gratifying me with his time.”

Dottore guffaws, doubling over in laughter. “Ah! So much spunk. It’s refreshing to have a subject who isn’t cowering in fear. How exciting.”

His laughter dies down abruptly. It’s just as chilling as when it began.

“Shall we run a little impromptu experiment?” he asks. Bile rises in your throat. You’d rather just have a swift end, really. Who knows what kind of circumstances Dottore will keep you alive under.

He draws a knife from his belt. It’s… it’s far more mundane than you thought. At the very least, it seems like he won’t be injecting you with some strange substance. “It’s a pity I don’t have my laboratory equipment with me here… but I supposed we’ll just need to make do. After all, the process is the fun of it.”

“Process,” you repeat, stupidly. It’s too cold, and your head was hit too hard. Your brain isn’t working like it should. You— you should be planning some grand escape. Instead you can barely follow the conversation happening between you.

“Do you know how much blood is in the human body?” he asks, spinning the knife carelessly in his palm.

You manage a dry laugh. “I haven’t measured. Don’t tell me you treat all your hostages with such hospitality?”

“How arrogant,” he scoffs. “You’re merely the delicious morsel of cheese. The real prize has yet to show itself.”

What the fuck is he on about?

He pulls something out of his pocket with his free hand. You spoke too soon.

You jerk against the restraints reflexively at the sight. A small vial. He pops the stopper with practiced ease, dribbling the viscous liquid over the length of the blade.

He pulls you up against him, sliding an arm around you. It’s like you’ve been already been drugged, your mind slow to comprehend what’s happening. His words keep ringing in your head. “You’ve a little more blood in you than… say, six and a half bottles of wine.”

And then there’s a sharp blow to your back, sending white hot pain jolting through your body.

You gasp, as if the air has been knocked from your lungs. The wheezing, wet sobs that rip from your lungs shake your body, but it hardly compares to the searing ache in your back. Dottore smiles. “I wouldn’t move so much, dear. Unless you’d like me to sever your spinal cord.”

He jerks his arm up, lifting you with the sheer force of his movement. He’s playing a dangerous game, cutting into you so blindly, so close to your spine—

You choke on the thought. He doesn’t care.

You don’t scream. Can’t. It’s like the air around you has been sucked away, and you can’t seem to get a single breath down. The only thing that comes from your mouth is a horrible, strangled gurgle.

He laughs, pulling the dagger out with ease. You sag, eyes wide. Move. Do something. Fight back.

You’re still gasping, choking on nothing. What is the point? Of this? Of any of it?

Dottore chuckles, wiping the dagger haphazardly on your shirt. “I guess you do bleed like we do. Shall we continue?”

You’re bleeding too much too fast. You can see it starting to pool around your feet, blossoming out in the snow.

You jerk against your restraints, throwing your knee up with a shout. You catch Dottore in the stomach, but he hardly reacts to your blow. He leans closer, so close you can feel his breath on your face.

“How impudent,” he mutters, smashing the hilt of the knife into your temple. A shock of pain shoots through your head, and you bite down to silence a sob.

Why is he wasting his time on you? Your thoughts feel hazy. Maybe it’s just pain for the sake of it.

Pain for the sake of it.

Why can’t you catch your breath? You’re teary, but still, no sound can form in your throat. You feel like you’re suffocating.

An agent materializes behind him, kneeling obediently.

“Didn’t I say to leave me to my work?” Dottore huffs, exasperated. He’s speaking so flippantly, like someone just interrupted his daily newspaper reading.

You can’t tell how deep the wound is like this. It’s— it’s long.

You have… minutes, maybe, until you’ve lost too much. There’s no fighting your way out of this. There’s no winning here.

You barely catch the last wisps of conversation.

“…Forgive me, lord harbinger. The Tsaritsa has sent a message.”

Dottore clicks his tongue in annoyance, tossing the dagger into the snow as he turns away. “Well, I’ve lost interest, regardless. Lucky little you.”

The agent slices the restraints down with a swift movement. You crumple to the ground, gasping desperately for air. Dottore starts away from you, but then stops and smiles over his shoulder. “Your life is ticking away, you know.”

You barely register his words. Every second matters, now. You clamber unsteadily to your feet. Despite the freezing snow you’ve started to sweat, your muscles trembling with the effort of holding yourself up.

You take a stumbling step backwards. Not a single Fatuus makes a move to stop you. They watch you with their robotic, empty gazes. You take another, and then turn on your heel and run.

It hurts. It hurts like death. But you won’t win a fight here, and Dottore is bitterly right. Five minutes, at most. Five minutes before you’ve lost too much blood.

Your movements are sluggish and stilted, and the world seems to teeter on your vision. Like hell you’ll let yourself die without putting up a fight.

It’s only a few yards to the cliff side. Water rushes past you and you sway for a moment, nearly losing your balance.

You feel ill. This rush of adrenaline won’t last you much longer, not with how badly he’s cut you. Not with how much this hurts.

It’s a long drop. You know better than anyone. Still, you launch yourself forward, feet slipping on the last rock, and plummet into the raging water below. If you’re going to lose your life, you’ll lose it to the torrents of nature. Not to some damned harbinger’s passing fancies.

———————————

You’ve broken… something. It’s hard to tell at this point, even as you drag yourself onto the snowy banks of the river. Everything fucking hurts. It’s a miracle you didn’t split your skull in half on the rocks below, although the intense throb in your right ankle says you didn’t make it out entirely unscathed. Thankfully it’s cold enough, and you’ve lost enough blood. The bitter ache of any broken bones seems dulled entirely.

You can see the fading lights of Dawn Winery in the distance, but you’ve lost your gamble. You have minutes left, at most. You close your eyes.

You’re going to die here, bleeding out in the snow. Pathetic. To survive the Abyss only to die like a drowned rat.

You’re tired. So, so tired.

Even in this unbearable cold you feel sleep calling you, soothing you from your wounds and fatigue.

It would be so easy, just to let go.

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a drawn, shrill gasp, drowned out by the sound of the waterfall behind you. Fucking hell.

One chance. That’s all you have.

It takes tremendous effort to get your tongue in the right position. You suck in air desperately, flinching at the shock that travels up from your ribs, and blow.

It’s a weak sound, at first, but it’s all you have.

Luckily, her hearing is better than any human’s.

It takes… twenty seconds, maybe. Thirty at most. You hear her shrieks overhead, having spotted her prey. But she’s no ordinary bird. You’re thankful for that, at least.

She vanishes again, and you’re left alone in the snow.

You jolt, startled. You nearly fell asleep. But you can’t. Not now. Just a little longer.

It feels like an eternity. You can’t feel your hands or feet anymore. All that’s left is a dull ache, and each breath you take feels like an enormous amount of effort.

In. Out. In. Out. Stay awake. Stay awake.

Finally, there’s a murmur of voices, the thumping of feet along the ground. Hands coming up to lift you from the snowy bank. You can’t focus well. Spots dance beneath your eyelids, and your breathing feels fluttery and faint.

“Stay awake, now,” One of the voices whispers. You’d know it anywhere. The warmth, the scent. Diluc.

‘Sorry’ you want to say. The words don’t come. Nothing comes, after that. Just darkness.

#hoping this will be posted very soon y’all #also subject to change because i’m still undecided about some things #wyvernne’s ramblings #diluc ragnvindr #genshin fanfic #diluc fanfic #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr fanfiction #dottore #hurt/comfort #cw: violence

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or0ch1maru · 1 year ago

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Akatsuki Beach day HCs?(also include orochimaru if you don't mind) kisame is thriving

Anytime I think akatsuki and the beach I can only imagine absolute chaos

I’m loving all these fun and mushy scripts y’all are sending my way🖤🥺also, please don’t worry if it takes me a while to get to yours, my small business and my job(I work retail and it’s been a HOT MESS with Christmas right around the corner) tend to take up a lot of my time but I promise to get to every one you lovies send in<3

Okay, back to it..

•

🐚so for starters I could see Konan being the main planner. Food, drinks, making sure they have enough of literally everything they could need, as well as making sure everybody wakes up on time to leave.

🐠then for the majority of the time they’re at the beach she would be found relaxing under an umbrella reading or watching everybody have a good time.

🦞pain on the other hand would be trying to stop deidara from blowing up Tobi. (I’ll elaborate further down)

🪸pain would definitely be the ‘dad’ of the group, making sure things aren’t getting too out of hand, and failing terribly at it. Zetsu lost a sandal? Just go barefoot, what’s the worst that could happen? He gets a splinter or a rock scrapes his heel. Feels bad when Zetsu starts crying about his foot hurting, would buy him ice cream as an apology.

🌊I imagine Zetsu as being a big softie. Just like Tobi he wouldn’t know what to do first. I also see him having a slight fear of water? Someone tries splashing him he’d close his leaves? Pinchers? Locking himself in his own shelter

☀️he’d find a bucket, a cup, literally anything and start collecting all the pretty shells he spots, even when the bucket gets full, he’ll start stuffing them in his pockets.

🪼our gentle masked comrade Tobi would refuse to take his mask off, let alone his shirt🥺

🐙poor thing couldn’t figure out what to do when they first arrived; go swimming? Build a sandcastle? Collect shells? Stare at the fish and other sea creatures showing themselves in the water? Nope, he decided on doing what he does best, piss off Deidara

🐬doesn’t even mean to do so, deidara is as explosive as his art so of course he’s going to get mad when Tobi accidentally gets sand in his hair.

🐋would retreat far into the ocean on a floaty, avoiding Tobi as much as possible. His hair would be tied up into a bun to keep the sea water from drying it out. Would most likely be those floaties with the little cup holder in it, probably with a beer can or sake in it.

🦭Sasori my man, I can imagine him working on a sandcastle. Using his skills to make a large one with details that would be tedious to anybody but him.

🦐he would volunteer to run up to the shops to grab things his comrades may want. No matter how small or stupid that item might be. Would buy small toys and presents in the gifts shops for everyone. He really enjoys walking through the board walk, will take a break and hang out on the pier for a bit before returning to the group.

🐚the zombie combo would both be talking and trying to pick up the gorgeous women who also decided to head to the beach that day. Hidan of course would be much more outgoing and flamboyant about it. Showing off his muscles and abs.

🐠Kakuzu on the other hand, all he’s gotta do is show off that one smirk of his to have them hypnotized. Wouldn’t care if one of them felt up on his scars or touched his hair. He won’t voice it, not even to Hidan, but he enjoys the attention, even if nothing comes of it.

🦈oh boy Kisame. Do I really have to say anything? As you said, he’d be THRIVING.

🦈would be moving through the water with ease, not even a ripple would be seen as he swims. Within minutes, sharks and other large sea animals would be seen following him around. He’d be so cute about it too, feeding them random shit he’d find, knowing what they want, or giving the sharks little boops on their noses(you can’t tell me you don’t see him doing this) and would be the main one to eat like 90% of the food Konan packed. She would make him join Sasori when going to the shops so he can stock up on everything he devoured.

🦞our sweet boy Itachi would pop into the water for a little bit before wandering off to the tide pools. He would find a patch of sand to sit on, watching as the sea stars and small fish go about their business as they wait for the tide to come back in

🪸would eventually get tired of being in the sun and lay out a towel next to Konan to hang out under the umbrella. They would talk or sit in silence, depends on how either of them are feeling that day.

•snake boy orochimaru would LATHER himself in sunscreen, you see how pale he is? (No offense, i love him) and he would also wear sunglasses to protect his eyes.

🌊I could see him complaining about the sun and trying to avoid it like the plague, acting as if the sun is the worst thing imaginable. Not one to express his feelings well if at all and uses his complaints to hide the fact that he’s actually having the time of his life. Would put a fish or eel in a jar, wanting to bring it back to the compound to keep as a pet until Konan tells him release it. Promising to take him to a pet store to get one there instead.

☀️towards the end of the day, moving into the early evening the whole group would play volleyball or fuck around in the water, splashing each other until everybody’s out of breath.

#akatsuki #orochimaru #konan headcanons #zetsu x reader #hidan headcanon #deidara x reader #kakuzu x reader #obito my beloved #orochimaru stories #kakuzu headcanons #sasori x reader #kisame headcanons

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devilboydogman · 1 year ago

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Reigen Arataka Headcanon Time Baby: EDITED

He/him trans guy! Has been on T since age 18 and got top surgery at age 23.

Asexual! And homoromantic! But also demiromantic, probably. Very much sex repulsed, but cuddling is Excellent once he’s reached a certain level of trust!

He has ADHD, autism, depression, RSD, NPD, and dyscalculia!

He is Not White, or even half white. He bleaches his hair, babes. Bro is 100% Japanese

Yes I am a guy who is 100% on board with the residual katana scar headcanon! Love that!!

His lungs ain’t in great shape, y’all. I headcanon he started smoking at the ripe old age of 15 and didn’t slow down until Mob showed up and he was like Ah, I have to set a Good Example. I cannot let this child suffer from secondhand smoke. (He still occasionally allows himself One cigarette.) He’s also hypermobile, but this doesn’t start really disabling him until post-canon.

I know he has a canon height of around 5’10” but when I write and draw him he is 5’7”. I do not take constructive criticism on this. (Mob is taller than me for fucks sake, let me take Reigen down a notch at LEAST, PLEASE GOD)

He has a vast array of knowledge and skill in cooking, but rarely has the time or motivation to actually cook for himself. He usually only cooks properly when other people are around (rare)

In general, his actions are very much driven by either impulse or dire need. I mean come on. Have you seen this guy’s decision-making? That man has so much ADHD executive dysfunction in him. And also a general over-self preservation/ self destruction cycle that complicates things.

His lack of offering personal info on his life and feelings are a result of fear of rejection and a need to project the desired self, as is expected with RSD and NPD. The self aggrandizing is a necessity for his mental well-being.

His hyperactivity and lack of volume control are at times unavoidable, so he often ends up playing it into whatever he’s trying to do.

Like many neurodivergent people, his social skills were rigorously honed into a very convincing mask. He had to STUDY how to read people, y’all. It became a hyperfixation. Mobgle searches on body language and psychology, observation, PRACTICE IN THE MIRROR. All of it.

So yeah, love that guy. Comment with your own or if you like any of these!!

#mob psycho 100 #autism #reigen arataka #adhd #rsd #adhd rsd #dyscalculia #transmasc #trans guy #mp100 headcanons #trans reigen arataka #asexual characters #homoromantic #demiromantic #tw smoking #npd headcanons #npd safe

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tmwcs · 2 years ago

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C O D E S

Another spoiler…I just wanted to point this out becaaaaause….there is actually a coded message regarding the events that will unfold in heelels chapter. Soo…. Initially I was just going to see if y’all would remember as you read the next chapter but figured that not a whole lot might remember the exact verbiage….unless it was pointed out 😏 sooooo….Highlighted in red….

"To all you mortals, demons, angels, and Gods,

Disburse yourselves, gather in numbers, no matter even or odd.

Cast your armies of Heaven’s Guardians, led by the great captain, the archangel Michael.

Or unleash the demons of Hell, that stem the darkest souls, through scripture and tale.

One chance is all I’ll permit, go forth and bear your arms.

Gather every weapon imaginable, your spells, chants, and spiritual charms.

Take every man, woman, and child, and teach them to kill,

Exhaust all matters you can, in keeping me chained, bloodied and still.

To all you weak mortals, bloodthirsty demons, sinful angels, and ignorant Gods,

Do what you need to, as I will stand and give applause.

Let it be known, since the creation of Heaven and Hell, the birth of the Earth, Moon, and Sun,

That I have remained, and will stand victorious, no matter if you fight, defend, hide, or run.

Make every attempt you must, and cover every inch of land and water,

There’s nowhere for you to go, when I am in the mood to slaughter.

I am the fire that burns within your veins,

I am the raging beast that you cannot tame.

I am the shadow that casts the darkness in your blood,

I am the pain and pleasure in both, hatred, and love.

I am the ruthless killer, a disease that infects your soul,

I am the kind archangel, that heals your wounds, sealing every hole.

Take your knee, and bend your bows,

God will not save you, no matter how much you vow.

Look away from my eyes, you filthy whores, and farmers of pity,

Only she who removes my mask, will be eternally worthy.

Now rattle yourselves in fear and equip yourself with prayers, as I The Devil, Lucifer, The Prince of Darkness, The First and God’s Most Favored Archangel, and Master of Hell.

Will split my crown, and birth the Goddess of Sacred Sin, the Queen of Acedia,

Eternally my muse, my beautiful desire, and everlasting mania."

C H A P T E R 9 I N E

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii @@yangjungwon33@lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie ; @they2luv1naia ; @aetherl0l ;

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #dark kpop #dark enhypen #yandere heeseung #heeseung yandere #yandere!heeseung

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workingforthewidow · 2 years ago

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‘What you were wearin’ on the first night we met’

Welcome to part 2 of the Sun to Me series.

This story is NSFW and not for minors- if you are under 18 go ask your legal guardian if you can watch the movie.

Warnings: kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, age gap (15 years- K&C are 19 Sinclairs are 33 soon to be 34 yes we will have a birthday party for them). Don’t like it don’t read it,

Proof read quickly. It’s 9pm and I’m about to sleep but wanted to get this out! I will proofread again in the morning!

Please reblog! I love seeing what y’all comment and tag :)

Request open see the pinned post for guidelines!

—

‘Oh my goodness why is it so hot? Sure it’s the middle of August but damn it shouldn’t be this hot. Ow fuck why does my head hurt?’ The thoughts swirled around Katie’s brain as she slowly came back into consciousness. She felt a weight around her neck and reached her hand up to feel metal encircling her throat. Her eyes opened and she took in the room around her. She was on a mattress on the floor and the metal around her neck was attached to the wall like she was a dog on chain. She looked down to see she was wearing her clothes. But the small joy disappeared when she realized they weren’t the clothes she had earlier. Someone had gone through her bag and changed her clothes.

The room was dimly lit with candles everywhere. That explained the heat. She could barely see around farther than 5 feet away. She looked around and couldn’t see or hear Caroline anywhere. Panic started to fill her body. Her breathing started to quicken.

“CAROLINE! CAROLINE!” She started screaming hoping to get some idea of where her sister was. She kept screaming her name until she heard a door swing open.

She pushed herself back as far against the wall as she could fear taking over the panic filling her. Tears filled her eyes as long jean clad legs came into view. Her eyes trailed up to see man with long black hair wearing an expressionless mask staring down at her.

“My sister, where is my sister?” She chocked out a sobbing beg.

The man continued to look at her before pulling out a notepad from his pocket and writing on it. Then he held it down to her.

~She is safe. So are you.~ He took back and began writing again.

“Why am I here? What are you doing to us?” She whispered though her sobs.

The man continued writing.

~I will explain later. I am going to get you food you have been asleep for 10 hours. Are you allergic to anything? Or your sister? Bo probably won’t think to ask that.~

Katie’s head spun again. So this guy and Bo knew each other. Maybe this guy was the owner of the museum, it would make sense seeing as it looked like this mask was made of wax.

“We can’t eat seafood. Fish or shellfish of any kind. But that’s it.” She said trying to hold back the tears. She thought back to all the crime shows she had watched, maybe if she went along things will be okay.

The man nodded and patted her head awkwardly like he didn’t know how to act around her. Maybe she was the first person he had ever held hostage. The man then turned and walked back of the room leaving Katie alone. Her only thoughts were on Caroline before she passed out again.

When she woke again there was a paper plate with what looked to be a peanut butter sandwich and chips, and a bottle of water set out next to her. Along with was a note with her name on it, spelled wrong but she knew it was meant for her. She opened the water bottle and was relieved when it popped like a fresh bottle does. ‘Okay so it’s most likely not poisoned.’ She thought picking up the sandwich noting it looked and smelled fine. She took a drink and started eating while she read over the note left for her.

~You are safe I promise. I do not plan to kill you. Your sister is safe as well. Bo won’t kill her.~ Kill it said kill not hurt, so maybe they did plan to hurt the girls. ~My name is Vincent, Bo is my twin. Whatever you need I will get for you just tell me. I hope you can learn to like it here and feel like it is your home. You are mine now and I will take care of you. Just be good and I can be good to you. I will be a good husband for you, my angel.~

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. They want wives? Why us?’ Her tears came flowing out again. Hadn’t enough bad things happened to them? First their parents die and they have to sell their house. This trip was suppose to be a fresh start. Drive to the coast and find a little place for the two of them. But now two psychos planned on keeping them.

Her sobs were so loud she didn’t hear the door open or Vincent’s footsteps as he approached. It wasn’t until he put his hand on her chin making her up to him did she notice him. She jumped and tried to move away from his touch but he tightened his grip on her chin holding her in place.

“Please, can I see Caroline? Please. We, we’ve never been this long without talking to each other.” She begged and pleaded with him.

He shook his head and used his other hand to brush at her hair which had fallen out of place sometime during her sleep.

Okay if she couldn’t see Caroline she at least needed to move a little, her legs were going to go to mush if she didn’t use them.

“Okay, umm can I take a shower and use the restroom? Please.” She tacked the please on at the end hoping it would better her chances. He looked at her and at the door and nodded slowly. He reached in his pocket and took out a key. He undid the metal collar around her throat and took her hand to help her stand.

“Thank you.” She said it barely above a whisper. He lead to other side of the room she hadn’t been able to see before. Her suitcase was there- so she was right he had her things. He pointed to the suitcase and she opened it getting some clean underwear and a bra, blood rushing to her cheeks as she quickly grabbed a purple satin set. Why did she let Caroline help her pick her clothes?

She went to grab her jeans but he stopped her, pulling out one of her dresses, a simple purple dress. Okay so this is how the game is going to be played. She could play along, so far he hadn’t physically hurt her or done anything immoral (besides kidnapping). She could play nice and work to find Caroline and get out of this hell. Away from the twin demons.

Once she had clothes in her hands, he put his hand on her back and led her down a hallway into a bathroom. Her toiletry bag already on the little shelf above the toilet.

The man, Vincent, looked at her then pointed to a watch on his wrist before holding up both hands then one hand. It took her a minute but she got it.

“I have 15 minutes?” He nodded and went to close the door and glared at her. “You’re going to stand at the door and wait for me?” She guessed again earning another nod. She nodded back and as soon as the door was closed started the water as hot as she could make it. While the water warmed she used the toilet realizing it had been well over 24 hours since the last time she had been able to use one. Once the water was hot she stepped in, and in an effort to conserve time she brought her toothbrush and brushed her teeth while she wet her hair. Not seeing any soap or shampoo she took the little travel bottles from her bag. Hopefully this Vincent man would get her some more if he really did plan on keeping her.

She showered as quickly as she could and climbed out of the shower drying off with the towel that had been hanging on a hook. She got dressed and brushed her wet hair highly doubting there would be a hair dryer anywhere. She looked in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see that she didn’t look completely awful. Sure her eyes were red and a little swollen from all the tears but maybe her mama was right, a good shower is good for the soul. She took one last look and opened the door.

True to his word Vincent was standing in front of the door, his back facing her. He turned and looked her up and down. He took her hand a walked her back to the room she was in before. But instead of going to the bed he sat her in a chair before standing behind her. She had no idea what was going to happen and her breath began to quicken. It slowed when she felt a brush being gently pulled through her hair, his hands even gentler than her own. After a few minutes he stopped and started parting her hair. It took her a moment but she realized he was braiding it. She stayed silent waiting for him to finish. She felt him drop her hair and then felt his fingers tracing the lines of some of the tattoos on her shoulders. His touch was light like a feather. Once he was done he awkwardly patted her head again and took her hand bring her back to the mattress.

While walking the short distance Katie felt her hair and noted he had done an amazing job at a double French braid held together at the end with what felt like average rubber bands. She would have to get her hair-ties from her bag and try to get him to use those if this would be common practice. She wondered if his mother had taught him to braid or he taught himself with his long hair. They got to the bed and he gestured for her to sit back down. Her eyes widened when he took the metal collar in hand, “Please, I promise I won’t run or do anything stupid. It… it… hurts. Please.” The tears had returned, running down her freshly cleaned face.

Vincent cocked his head looking at her and she assumed he weighing his options. He moved to another area in the room and she could hear him rummaging around some boxes. He returned seconds later with handcuffs. He held them in one hand and the metal collar in the other, giving her the choice. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack from the sobs and pointed to the handcuffs before holding her arms up, praying he didn’t make her put them behind her back. Thankfully he took her arms in front of her and locked the cuffs into place before pushing her, forcing her to lay down. Once he was sure she’d stay he walked away again before returning with his notepad and pen.

“Oh umm, you spelled my name wrong.” She said carefully, hoping her tone conveyed that she wasn’t upset or mad. Maybe having a somewhat normal conversation with him would help her situation. It was a pretty common mistake for someone to misspell her name. “You spelled it like how Captain Janeway spells her name. But my name is spelled like Catherine Zeta-Jones.” She couldn’t see his face but she could feel his confusion. “Oh um those pop culture references but I guess y’all don’t get much tv or movies out here. My name is spelled C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e not K-a-t-h-r-y-n, it happens all the time. I just thought since I’m living here now and all I should tell you. But if you want to call me Katie that’s fine. Most people do. And that is spelled with a K, K-a-t-i-e.”

Vincent nodded and scribbled down his reply, ~I like Catherine. Pretty name for a pretty girl. I will talk to Bo and see if you can see Caroline tomorrow. Do you want dinner?~

Caroline. He would let her see Caroline. That meant she was alive right? He couldn’t be that cruel as to give her false hope. “Thank you. I really just want to sleep. If that’s okay. There’s just so much going on.” It was then she realized she didn’t even know what time or even what day it was. She was in a basement of some sort with no clocks or windows.

Vincent nodded and wrote once more, ~Sleep would be good for you. I will be in the next room working. If you need anything come to me. I will know if you try to leave and it will not end well for you or your sister.~

Katie’s eyes tears up again, she hoped soon her tears would dry up, “Okay. I promise I will be here.” He stayed for a few minutes and watched her as she fell asleep before going back to his studio.

—

Caroline could feel pressure on her wrist and on her ankles. She tried wiggling them to no avail. Her eyes slowly opened but quickly widen when she took in her surroundings. She was in some kind of doctors chair with her hands and feet secured down. She couldn’t see Katie anywhere.

“Katie! Catherine!” She screamed hoping her sister would come out of somewhere.

“Baby if you wanna keep that tongue in your pretty little mouth you better shut the fuck up.” She heard a voice above her and looked up to see a sewer grate and the mechanic, Bo, standing over it. “I’ll be down there in a minute, you just calm down.”

Calm down? How the hell could she calm down? She was tied down in a basement and her sister was missing! What was she suppose to do? Katie had always been the one with the plans. Katie would know what to do. Thinking of her twin made the tears really start coming down her cheeks. Was she dead? Had he hurt her?

While these thoughts floated in her head she heard the door being pushed open and watched as Bo walked in like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Good morning baby. Slept a lot longer than ya sister. Heard her crying to Vinny already.” Katie was alive. Caroline didn’t say anything as Bo got closer to her and brushed her hair away from where it had fallen in her face. “Stop wiggling. Gonna mess up your wrist. Now if you promise to be good I’ll take the cuffs off. Let you eat and take a shower.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.

Caroline looked to him with fear filled eyes and nodded.

“Wanna hear your words baby. Be a nice girl and use your manners.”

“Please take the cuffs off. I promise I’ll be good.” Her voice was soft and quiet like she was thinking over each word she said before saying it.

Bo smirked at her and carefully slid his knife under the duct tape undoing her wrist and ankles. He offered her his hand and helped her stand up, “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it? Come ‘ere. Got your suitcase from your car. Picked a nice little outfit for you.” He lead her through a long hallway to a small bathroom. Her bathroom bag and a stack of clothes sat on the edge of the sink.

Bo pushed her in, following behind her, and closed the door.

“You have 15 minutes. After that I’m opening the door. Your choice if you want an audience yet or not.” He said holding her face to keep her eyes on his. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, 15 minutes. I understand.” He seemed to take that answer and stepped out of the room.

She made quick work of the using the restroom and getting in the shower. She tried to think of what was happening but all her thoughts lead her back to Katie. Trying to distract herself, she almost started her hair routine but cringed when she realized that was a mistake. It took her 10 minutes to get through the whole thing and that didn’t include washing her body or anything else. Maybe she was faster than she thought. If she had at least 10 minutes she could just do the routine quickly and hope the shampoo falling from her hair would be enough to wash her body for now.

“Bo?” She called softly hoping he wouldn’t open the door, “How much time do I have?”

“9 minutes.” His replied was muffled by the door.

Okay she could do it. She started the routine quickly running through all the steps. She finished and grabbed the towel off the sink drying herself before getting dress. Just as she was finishing putting on her bra and underwear, a soft baby pink matching lace set, the door swung open revealing a very happy looking Bo.

He let out a whistle and looked her over, pausing at her chest for longer than she liked. “Guess I do get a show today. Look at you didn’t expect to see all that on you.” He gestured to her tattoo covered body.

“Katie’s a tattoo artist and a seamstress. I do hair and makeup. We practice on each other. Hers is just a bit more permanent.” Caroline was suddenly very aware of how little clothing she had on. “Can I get dressed now? Please, sir.” She asked batting her eyelashes innocently. He said wanted a nice girl with manners and she’d be sure to use all the training her southern belle mama had put her through. Katie may have more book smarts than she did but Caroline knew how to play a man.

Bo’s smirk somehow got even darker than it already was, “Now look at that. She does have manners. I like that baby, you can keep that up. Put your clothes on hurry up. Need to eat.”

She took the clothes off the sink feeling his eyes watching her every move. She was expecting her tiny shorts and a crop top but he had taken one of her dresses. She pulled it one and tried to get the zipper up her back but failed. She tried again and huffed when she couldn’t get it.

“Let me do it baby.” His fingers moved down her spine slowly enjoying how soft her skin was. He easily pulled the zipper and moved her wet hair over one of her shoulders. Bending down he kissed the other shoulder where it met her neck.

“Thank you.” She said trying to keep up the act. She decided to try her hand at a request to see what she could get, “Can I… can I, please, dry my hair? Or can you do it? My dress will get messed up if it get wet. My hair supplies bag is in my suitcase.” She looked up at the mirror in front of her and caught his gaze. He was smirking again.

He kissed her neck again and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back to his chest. “I guess since you asked so nicely I’ll let you. Can’t have my pretty little wife walking around in messed up clothes.”

Caroline felt like she was going to vomit. Wife. What the fuck was this psycho talking about? She was so wrapped in her head she didn’t even notice he had left the room and came back with things. She went to grab them but he held them in one hand high above his head. He was at least a foot taller than her so the objects were far from her reach.

“If you want them you gotta pay the price baby.” He pulled her against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. Her first reaction was to pull away but she reminded herself to play along. She let him kiss her, letting him move his lips against hers, and when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips she let him in.

He finally pulled away after what felt like a lifetime, “Good girl. Do that curly thing again. I like that and keep it down.” She nodded and started drying her hair trying to do it as quickly as possible.

Bo stood in the doorway blocking her in just in case she decided to be brave and get away from him. Damn she was pretty. His pretty little housewife. He had always wanted the perfect family. Pretty little wife to cook and clean while he went to work. He’d come home and she’d be waiting at the door for him beer in hand and a welcome home kiss while their kids ran up to him wanting hugs from their daddy. It would be perfect just like he dreamed.

“Bo…. Bo?” He didn’t hear her softly saying his name until she put her hand on his chest. “Are you okay? You looked as spaced out as I do when Katie starts going off about whatever book she’s reading.” She giggled softly thinking of her sister and Bo thought it was the prettiest music he had ever heard.

“Just fine, baby. Thinking about how pretty you are and what a good little wife and mama you’re gonna be.” He ran his hand through her soft curls happy she had followed his directions. “You promise to be good?”

He made it sound like he was going to offer something. She’d take anything she could get at the moment. “Yes, sir, I will be good.”

“Good girl. Gonna take you home now. Gotta lot of work for you and that sister of yours if Vincent lets her out of the studio.” He took her hand and led her out of the underground. Seeing sunlight was nice and feeling it against her skin was even better. They walked to his truck his hand holding hers tightly a sign for her not to run. He opened the truck door and helped her up before climbing in the driver side. He pulled her across the bench seat and wrapped one arm around her waist while driving with the other.

‘Play the game Caroline it’s just a game.’ She reminded herself to give her the courage to do what she was about to do.

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, “Thank you, this is my favorite dress.” ‘Be calm and play the game.’ He’s a man, Mama always said all men what two things- food and sex. One she could do with ease, the other not so much. Mama raised them with the church to be good pure girls.

Bo took his arm from her waist and moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing a little harder then she was expecting. “You’re welcome baby. You keep being good and I’ll make sure you have everything your little heart wants.”

One more try, she would try one more time to see Katie today, “Can I see Katie yet? Please just for a minute.” She had been able to hold back the tears for a long time but finally thinking about her sister again made them flow.

Bo sighed and rolled his eyes gripping her thigh again. “Not right now. You make me a good lunch and start your housework and maybe I’ll think about it. Okay?”

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Luckily this time he didn’t make her speak it. Her voice would probably crack if she had to speak right now. Finally they made it to the house and he lead her inside to the kitchen.

He open the fridge and grabbed a beer, “Make whatever you want with what we got. Make a list of things you’ll need and I’ll have Lester pick them up next time he goes out to the city for supplies,” he noticed the confusing on her face at the mention of Lester, “Les is the youngest brother. Me and Vincent are twins but Mama said I’m the older one. Then Lester came 3 years later.” He didn’t know why he told her all that but maybe it was good he felt comfortable telling her about their family that fast. She was the new Sinclair matriarch in a sense. “Now get to cooking baby. You got a lot to learn to be a good little wife.”

She rummaged around the kitchen finding enough things to make chicken and beans. There didn’t seem to be a fruit or vegetable in the house at all. Those would be first on her list. While she moved around the kitchen finding things she needed to cook, Bo sat at the table with his beer and went over his expectations for his new ‘wife’.

1.) No leaving the house without him or one of his brothers being with her

2.) Make sure all meals are made on time. He can’t be late for work. (Caroline wondered how you can be late for work when you are the owner and boss.)

3.) When he comes home at the end of the day she was to be at the door waiting of him, smile on her face and beer in hand, ready for his welcome home kiss

4.) Make sure the house stays clean, can’t have anything dangerous out once babies start coming. But only rooms with the doors open. He closed all the rooms she wasn’t allowed in.

5.) If she sees anyone in town besides one of the boys she was not allowed to speak to them unless it was to direct them to the boys. As soon as the strangers were gone she was to go to their room and hide. And if she heard screams- no she didn’t.

“Get all that through your pretty head, baby?” He asked her while she plate his food and sat in front of him.

“Yes, stay home, cook, clean, don’t talk to strangers, beer and kiss when you come home.” Like a good southern wife. He didn’t have to tell her most of those rules her mama already had. Hopefully if her twin was with his twin he wasn’t wanting what Bo wanted. Katie didn’t grasp all this the way Caroline did. Katie’s nose was too stuck in books to learn anything about this.

“Good. Where’s your food?”

“Not hungry. Just tired.” She even yawned at the end. He had said she slept all night but she felt like she had been hit by a truck. Bo pulled her onto his lap and held a sliced chicken to her lips.

“You can take a nap after you eat something. Can’t have ya withering away on me. You gotta be nice and healthy for our babies.” His other hand ghosted over her empty midsection as if to pretend a life was growing instead. Caroline had to control herself not to cringe and slowly chewed the meat. That seemed to satisfy Bo for while. He ate the whole meal occasionally feeding her bits of it.

“I knew I found a good one,” he said kissing her shoulder, “That was better than anything Mama ever made. You still wanna nap?”

Caroline yawned and nodded her head, “Please.”

Bo smiled and stood still holding her in his arms. She wrapped her legs about his waist to hold herself. He carried her up a staircase and into what she assumed was his room.

“Once I know you’re really gonna be good I’ll let ya redecorate. Give it a woman’s touch.” He said laying her down on the bed and pulling a blanket over her. “I gotta go see Vinny. You stay here and nap. If you wake up and I’m still gone you can go to the kitchen and wash dishes. I’m being nice since you’re still learning but after today dishes are done before bed.” She nodded as he continued this time getting in her face his forehead against hers, noses touching. “If I come back to this house and you aren’t in this room, the bathroom next door, or the kitchen- I will take my shotgun and shoot your sister in between the eyes, before coming for you. Understand baby?”

Tears sprang to her eyes immediately and she nodded her head fiercely, “Y-ye-yes, Bo. Yes, sir. I understand. I promise I will be good.”

That seemed to make Bo happy since he kissed her softly and left her to fall asleep.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slashers #bo sinclair #brian van holt #vincent sinclair #Sadly no Jonesy this chapter #She will return for the birthday party #house of wax fic

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago

Text

it’s always the quiet ones

— doctor! steve rogers x mob! reader

summary || you set your eyes on the new doctor in town.

warnings || unprotected sex. dom/sub dynamics. dom!steve. spanking. choking. rough blowjobs. daddy kink. dacryphilia. orgasm control. aftercare. lots of sexual tension. horny thots. — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I really really really hope y’all like this!

“If anything happens to Bucky, I will ruin your life.”

Your cheeks were wet with the tracks of the tears you had haphazardly wiped away. You didn’t cry. You weren’t weak. Your eyes were burning with the fire of vengeance as you stared down at the doctor.

The doctor looked incredulously at you before squinting his eyes. Placing his hands on his hips, he replied with a baffled voice, “Ma’am, this is an operating theatre.”

“I am well aware of that.” The doctor’s lower half of the face was covered with his mask but his eyes were so blue that they nearly twinkled. He was tall and his arms were bulging out of his scrubs.

“You cannot be here.” He stated plainly and folded his hands. You scoffed at him and shook your head. He seems to be new in town.

You were adopted into the Barnes family and as expected, you joined the ‘family business’. Bucky wasn’t just your brother, he was your best friend too and seeing him get shot had shaken you.

You and Bucky weren’t prepared this morning when that ungrateful Rumlow attacked Bucky, right in your house. Brock had been taken care of, but you desperately wanted your brother to be saved.

You couldn’t risk him being alone anywhere in this state. He couldn’t protect himself, so you would protect him. Just like he had kept you safe all these years.

After Brock’s betrayal, you couldn’t trust anyone. Not the doctors, not the nurses. No one but you. You were the only one who could ensure his safety and you weren’t going to let your brother down.

“What’s your name?” You dropped your hand to the gun tucked in your pants, in a clear move to intimidate him. But it didn’t seem to work as he didn’t even bat an eyelid.

“Dr. Steve Rogers.” He said in a thick voice, on which you would’ve drooled in any other situation. But you needed to intimidate him, not get infatuated.

“Okay Roger,..” you purposely said an incorrect name. Your eyes were constantly trailing to Bucky lying on the bed as the nurses prepared everything for the surgery.

“It’s Rogers…” Steve said correcting you and you nodded. “Whatever your name is, look at my face… do I look like I care about your stupid guidelines? I don’t care what you do, but I need my brother to be out of danger and… alive.”

You blinked back the tears collecting in your eyes and sniffled. Steve was about to argue again when Sam, his fellow doctor on the operation and you friend, stopped him.

“Steve, don’t.” Steve opened his mouth to say something but Sam shook his head in a signal to not say anything. Steve huffed out dejectedly before walking away to the operating table.

“Don’t worry. We’ll try our best.” Sam held your hand and rubbed it reassuringly. You finally let a single tear run down your cheek again before rubbing it off. “Please Sam! I trust you.”

~~~

Steve ran his hand through his hair as he exited the hospital. It had been a hectic day, but nothing in comparison to when he had to treat Bucky Barnes. That day was imprinted in his memory.

He was new in this town and the only friend he had was Sam. So he hadn’t known who you were when he met you that day. He didn’t know if it was fear or feelings, but he didn’t been able to forget you after that.

It had barely been a week since the incident, but he still remembered the way you were hopefully looking up at them as they worked on Bucky. He could see it on your face that you wanted to shed some tears, but were adamant enough not to.

He had asked about you after that. And though he realised that you weren’t necessarily a good news, the people of this town seemed plenty happy with you.

From what he heard, you didn’t trouble them at all. Instead it was the authorities you were against and helped the people whenever you could. He was somewhat relieved to hear that.

He sighed as he broke out of the chain of his thoughts. He didn’t even know if he was ever going to meet you again, so it was better to stop thinking about you.

Instead he focused his thoughts on going home and spending some time on the canvas. Painting was his hobby and it always calmed him. But the stars weren’t on his side today.

Because the moment he reached his car in the parking lot, he noticed the flat tire. Bumping his hand on the hood of the car, he cursed himself for being careless.

“That’s real sad, isn’t it?” Steve’s head snapped up when he heard your voice. In his disappointment, he hadn’t noticed your car parked right besides his.

“What are you doing here?” The flat tire and your car parked right next to his couldn’t be a coincidence. “I realised I hadn’t thanked you in all the hurry. So now, as a goodwill gesture, I could drop you home.”

“No thanks. I’m fine by myself.” He waved you off with a strained smile. “Aww come on! I won’t charge you, I swear.” You said pointing at the empty passenger seat.

“You did this, didn’t you?” He raised his eyebrow in your direction. “You’re so stubborn and smart! It makes me kinda like you.”

Steve wanted to smile at the praise but he barely restrained himself. “Why are you like this? If you wanted to talk, you could’ve probably asked me?”

“You want me to take you out on a date? That’s so sweet. I mean, you could join me right now for a mind blowing date.” You smirked and Steve’s thoughts went somewhere they shouldn’t at the word blowing.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant talking to me in a civilian way rather than this.” He said pointing at the flat tire.

“Did anyone tell you you look so hot when you’re angry? Like you have a really pretty jaw and it’s a beautiful sight when you clench it. Not to mention those eyes of yours. You really are a very pretty man.” You sighed dreamily.

Steve pursed his lips tighter in an effort to not smile. He didn’t know if you were truthful or just teasing him. But he didn’t care. No one had said such sweet words to him before.

But he knew better. He didn’t want to involve himself with you at any cost. He was a doctor and had pledged to save lives and you did quite opposite of that.

“Next time try better than this.” He said to you in a hard set voice before turning around and walking away. “Hey! At least give me your number!” You shouted and he finally let himself smile when you weren’t looking.

~~~

“Holy fucking shit!” Steve screamed the moment he entered his house. Because there you were, making yourself comfortable on his couch, in his home.

“Hello Steve! How was your day?” You asked as you calmly poured wine in two glasses. Steve stood shock still in his door, unmoving and staring at you with wide eyes.

“Did you just break into my house? Fuck!” He did seem a bit scared this time. But who wouldn’t? You were literally in his house, without his knowledge.

“I wouldn’t use the term ‘break in’ but rather I’d say I stepped up my game.” You took one of the glasses and twirled it in your hand before taking a sip out of it.

Steve’s chest was still heaving as his initial shock was now turning into anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You literally forced your way in here and you have the audacity to tell that!”

“Last time we met, what did you tell me? ‘next time try better than this.’ Well Steve, this is me trying my level best.” You tipped your glass towards him and sat on his couch.

“Come on. Don’t be shy!” You quipped. Patting the seat next to yours, you called him forward. “You are leaving my house right now.” He was literally fuming and you found it amusing to get a rise out of the usually calm man.

“Oh god… the people will be so disappointed when I tell them that their beloved new doctor doesn’t know how to treat a girl right and is almost always angry and swears much more than anyone would’ve thought.”

“Are you getting out or should I do that for you?” His voice was stern and unwavering and you would be lying if you said you didn’t find that arousing. He was just what you needed.

“Awww, you’re gonna throw me out? How are you gonna do that? You’re going to pick me up and carry me bridal style? That would be so romantic.” You chirped.

“You’re insufferable.” Steve finally walked in and shut the door with a defeated sigh when he realised you weren’t going to give up anytime soon.

Always so used to getting what you wanted, you were a spoilt person. And that infuriated Steve more than anything. His hands itched to show you your place.

Your lips stretched around his cock, with tears running down your cheeks. Or even better.. you laying on his lap as he spanked your bratty ass raw… No Steve! STOP!

He let out a breath to calm himself down. His brain was conjuring up images that he shouldn’t be thinking, much less imagining. And these mental images made him hard in his pants.

“So like, you wanna watch a movie?” You asked as you tucked your feet beneath yourself on the couch. Steve just stared at you for a minute and he himself couldn’t believe that he was going to agree to your stupid plan.

~~~

Steve dusted the pillows before placing them on the couch with hurry. He chewed on his lip as he looked around his house, it looked presentable enough.

It had been four days since you had broken in and from that day since, you visited him every night. It was almost a routine now, which though Steve loved, he didn’t show it.

You both sat on the couch and watched some random movie as you kept making fun of the characters for making stupid decisions. You did most of the talking while Steve pretended to be annoying even though he was enjoying every minute of it.

The first day, he had been genuinely irritated, but after that, you never broke in. Rather you waited patiently outside his house for him to come back.

Today though was his weekly off and he had spent the entire day cleaning the house. He didn’t really pay much attention otherwise, but now that you used to visit everyday, he had to keep it neat and tidy.

Of course he wasn’t going to tell you that he did all this for you. But he knew you’d notice, you had a keen eye after all.

He tried convincing himself every night that he didn’t like you. But he failed every single time. It was like with your insistent pushing, you had indeed made a place in his life.

He sprung up on his feet the moment his doorbell rang. He opened the door and was about to quip something back, when he noticed your state.

You were heavily leaning on the doorframe and were unsteady on your feet, swaying a bit. You were drunk. You giggled when you saw Steve and nearly stumbled forward.

He gladly caught you before you fell flat on your face. “Hello!” You hiccuped as you made no move to separate yourself from Steve’s body.

Your face was sticking to Steve’s chest and your eyes were hazy and a permanent smile was plastered on your face. You looked adorable.

“Come on.” Steve said as he pulled you in and closed the door behind. He placed you on the couch but you refused to leave his warmth, instead you circled your hands behind his neck and pulled him down.

Sighing, he sat on the couch and you straddled him. He was going to stop you if things got any further, but instead you curled around him like a cat and buried your head in his neck.

“What happened?” He had never seen you out of control ever before. “I’m tired..” you sighed without leaving the crook of his neck and he could feel your breath on his skin.

“Had a bad day?” Steve asked he rubbed your back. You shook your head, still buried up at the base of neck. “Jus’ tired…. You’re so warm….” You mumbled.

“You think so?” Steve was liking how unfiltered you were unlike your usual thoughtful actions. “Hmm.. I get so cold and… and there’s no one to warm me.”

Steve couldn’t place why, but he got sad by your statement. I’ll keep you warm, a deep possessive part of him suggested and he pushed it back quickly.

You finally pulled your head up and faced him. Your earlier happiness was gone but now you looked sad. “I get so lonely somedays… I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you have your brother,..” and me, he wanted to add but didn’t. “Bucky’s the best,.. but I can’t tell him everything.” Your words were slurring by now.

Steve placed his hand on your face and soothed the frown gracing your forehead. But you just scoffed at his gesture. “I know you don’t want me Stevie… but I can’t stop liking you.”

Steve stayed quiet as he didn’t know what to say. Instead he just circled his arms tightly around you and you willing laid your head on his shoulder again.

He didn’t know how much long he held you like that, but soon he started hearing your soft snores. He picked you up without disturbing you and he was glad the hours spent at the gym were finally worth it.

He went to the bedroom and placed you on the bed gently. He tucked you in the blankets and for a minute, looked at you sleeping peacefully before leaving the room.

~~~

You groaned as you woke up when a ray of sunlight landed on your eyes through the drapes. You gasped for a moment when you didn’t realise where you were, but then you remembered last night.

You drank a little too much at your bar and your drunk self had somehow made you land up at Steve’s house. You buried your face in your hands with embarrassment when the memories of last night sprouted up.

You never were the person to wear your heart on your sleeve. You had a habit of keeping things bottled up within yourself and only person you did share some things with was Bucky.

Since your childhood, you had been told you couldn’t trust anybody except your own family. And you still carried that up to this day.

But Steve felt so warm last night, with his stupid cozy jumpers and his beautiful face. He felt safe. There was something about him which made you want to share your deepest darkest secret with him.

For once in your life, you wanted to give up control. You wanted to submit. You were so tired carrying everything around on your shoulders that for just once, you wanted to let go.

But Steve didn’t seem interested in you at all. Though you had seen him steal glances and smile when he thought you weren’t watching, it couldn’t be taken for sure.

Steve was a new guy in town and though he had a very clean record and was an overall good guy, you still couldn’t trust him.

Finally after thinking for some time, you came to resolve of not annoying him anymore. You were going to miss your friendly banter, but you didn’t want to be a burden to him.

Freshening up, you finally opened the door of the bedroom and walked into the common room. Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast when you smiled at him groggily.

“Good morning!” Steve seemed glad to see you, which was definitely a new development. “‘Morning.” You replied back without your usual enthusiasm.

“Take this.” He said pointing towards a pill and a glass of water. Though you did have a terrible hangover, you couldn’t stay here any longer.

“No thanks. I’m kinda used to this.” This was a lie, despite owning a bar, you didn’t drink much. “Also about last night…. Umm, thank you for being such a gentleman.”

You were genuinely glad that Steve didn’t misuse the opportunity but instead behaved very honourably. You can trust him, a small voice at the back of your head provided.

“You’re welcome. You wanna have breakfast?” Steve seemed hopeful but you shook your head. “No. I’m good. Also, I’m not lonely or anything. I have good friends, okay.” You added the last line to not look like an idiot and Steve smiled and nodded.

You took a good look at Steve’s face before opening the door. “Goodbye Steve.” You had known this man for few weeks yet this felt so heartbreaking.

But the answer you got back was somehow even worse, because just when you were leaving Steve, he said, “Goodbye! See you soon!”

~~~

Steve checked his watch for the fourth time as he anxiously paced around in his house. It was much later than your usual timing and you still hadn’t come.

After last night, he had thought everything was good between you two. This morning he had even said see you soon, yet you weren’t here.

Did something happen to you? Steve knew what you did was dangerous and risky, and the thought of you injured sent a pant of hurt down his chest.

Somehow this thought wasn’t leaving his head and he got even more worried by the second. He was probably getting worked up over nothing, or was he?

After he couldn’t stop his thoughts anymore, he decided to go check in your bar by himself. You and Bucky owned a bar not far from his place and though he hadn’t gone there before, he decided now was the time.

When he finally reached the pub, it wasn’t anything like he had expected. It looked like a normal bar, unlike some gangster den he had imagined in his head.

He looked around but when he didn’t find you, he went to the bartender. He definitely had talked to her before somewhere, it was a small town after all, but he couldn’t remember.

“Ummm, hey there!” He saw the way her eyes lit up with recognition. “Hello, Dr. Rogers! I’m Wanda! Do you remember?” He nodded at her. “What can I get you?” She asked in a chirpy tone.

“I don’t… I don’t want anything,,.. umm,.. is your boss here?” He tried to be as casual as possible. “Oh! Bucky’s right there.” She said pointing at a table behind Steve.

Due to Wanda’s blatant pointing, he was sure everyone in the bar was now staring at him. “Not that one… the other one,.. you know, Bucky’s sister?”

Wanda finally understood what Steve was painfully trying to tell her. “Oh! She’s not here today. Actually, she’s not here much lately.” She bent closer to Steve as if to share a secret, “We think she’s finally found someone.”

Steve pretended to hear this news for the first time despite being sure that this someone was him. And he didn’t want to know what these guys’ reactions would be if they found out he was the mystery guy.

“Oh okay. Thanks!” Steve turned to leave but Wanda stopped him. “Do you want to give a message?” She asked genuinely. “No. Thank you!” And with that, he left the shady place.

~~~

Steve was trying to focus on reading a book, but his thoughts were constantly getting dragged back to you. You still hadn’t contacted him and he hoped you were okay.

Gladly, the door bell rang and he nearly ran to open it. Seeing you stand outside, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You were perfectly fine and smiling as usual.

“Heard you came asking for me..” you said mockingly when you walked inside as if you owned the place. “Well, I… I did.” Steve rubbed his nape bashfully.

When you didn’t reply anything in return, he finally asked, “Where were you?” You sat on his couch and turned around to look at him with an unreadable expression, “Why do you care?”

“Of course I care!” The words left Steve’s mouth before he could think much about it. But you just scoffed on his face. “Oh really? You could’ve just called me.”

“I don’t have your phone number. You just somehow found my number and never shared yours!” You had taken his number from Sam and had never given yours in return.

“You’re an idiot, and it’s not my fault. You could’ve asked Sam!” Steve felt a little jealous when he realised Sam had your number but not him. “Instead, you could’ve just given me your number.” He replied back.

“I would’ve remembered to do that if you hadn’t been constantly angry at me.” Steve walked over and stood straight ahead of you. “What did you say? You break into my house and expect me to not be mad at you?”

Steve screamed straight on your face, and you gasped. The veins in his neck popped up and you wanted to sink your teeth into the thick cords. “Fuck me…”

“What?” Steve asked and your eyes comically widened when you realised you’d said the words out loud. “I…” you wanted to come up with an explanation but your head was blank.

But before you could reply, Steve placed his huge hand over your neck. The action made you gulp thickly as you gushed with wetness between your legs.

Steve bent low to whisper right in your ear, “Is that what you want? You want daddy to fuck you deep and rough?”

Your eyes rolled back in your bed just from the words itself. You hadn’t been wrong when you had thought that Steve was just your type.

“Yes… yes please!” You breathed out in a whimper. Steve’s hand squeezed around your throat a little and your eyes flew open. “You’ve already earned your punishment by being a bad girl, don’t increase it. You know what to call me.”

“Pu… punishment.?” Steve could feel your heartbeat in your throat as he kept his hand there. You looked so vulnerable and delicate unlike he had ever seen before.

“You’re being a very bad girl right now. Is that what I asked you about?” Steve stern voice left no space for argument. “N.. No Daddy!”

A wicked smile graced Steve’s featured when you finally said what he wanted to hear. “You’re so wrecked, and I haven’t even properly touched you.” He mocked you.

Your eyes were already glassy and you were squirming uncomfortably to relieve the ache at your core. It was very humiliating, and you were getting off on it.

“You’ve been such a bad girl. Breaking into my house, deflating my tire, not listening to me… you deserve to be spanked, don’t you?” His tone was deceptively gentle.

You nodded as words refused to leave your throat. All you could focus on were Steve’s words and his hand around your throat. The thought of Steve spanking you was making you vibrate with sheer need.

You whined when Steve’s hand left your throat but you intently looked as he sat on the couch and patted his thigh. You didn’t need much invitation and you laid down on his lap.

“Pull down your pants.” His voice was commanding and you twisted around to look at him. Him removing your pants would’ve been fine, but you doing it yourself was very much more humiliating.

Your hands shook a little as you hooked your hands in your pants and panties and pulled them down together. Steve groaned looking at your ass and your face heated in reaction.

You sucked in a breath when his hand palmed your ass. Your body was so heated that you felt like you were going to combust on spot.

Though you knew what was going to happen, you were still unprepared when Steve’s hand landed on your ass. It didn’t hurt at the impact, but soon the tingling sensation began spreading across your cheeks.

You writhed on his lap when he spanked you again in quick succession and your legs nearly folded, but Steve held you tight. “You look so beautiful. God, fuck!”

You could feel Steve’s hard erection brushing against your stomachs with the slaps and it made everything more intense.

By the tenth slap, you were a panting brainless mess on his couch. Your boy was shaking with little tremors and you were so sensitive to everything that you could feel the fine movement on your body of Steve’s wooly jumper.

Steve spread your legs and they fell open without any resistance. You weakly moaned when his swiped his fingers through your drenched folds. Your thighs, his pants and the couch was wet with your dripping slick.

“You’re such a slut, getting so wet from a good spanking. God,.. one day I’m gonna spank you till you fucking cum.” You shook with that thought and you knew Steve was right as you weren’t very far from coming right now.

Steve pulled you up by your hair and you went willingly. Your ass was still stinging from the spanking and you hissed when he made you sit down on his lap.

“You wanna be a good girl?” You excitedly nodded. “Yes daddy!” Your chest was heaving with breaths and Steve couldn’t wait any longer and ripped it right through.

“Fuck!” You cursed at the display of his strength and he smirked. He discarded your shirt, bra and pants until you were completely bare while he was still fully dressed.

“Get on your knees and show me how good you can be.” You got right to work and placed yourself between his spread out thighs. With quick movements you pulled down his sweatpants enough to pull out his cock.

You salivated at the sight and licked your lips. His thick cock was hard, almost painfully, and his wet tip was glistening in the lights. You traced the veins on the underside of his cock with your fingers before licking them with your tongue.

Steve hissed at the sensation and held you tight by your hair. “I didn’t tell you to play around. You want to get your face fucked, don’t you?” Your mouth flew open at his words, “Yes daddy!”

“Open your mouth.” You stretched open your mouth to its limit and patiently waited as Steve put his cock right between your lips.

You closed your eyes and groaned at the heady taste of him and Steve cursed as the vibrations travelled up his spine. But your eyes flew open the moment he started fucking your mouth in earnest.

You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat and tears started leaking from your eyes. You tried your best to rub your tongue along his length.

Steve wanted to go a little soft on you, but seeing your lips stretched tight around his cock made him loose all semblance of sanity. “You look so good gagging on my cock!”

Your tears now started mixing with the spit drooling out of your mouth and for Steve it was even better than he had imagined himself.

You, the person who nearly ruled the town, was right now servicing him on your knees was making him feel more powerful than anything else.

On the other hand, you were making Steve, a composed and reasonable man, lose all of his control was making you heady with pleasure.

Steve pulled you off when he was right close to coming. He closed his eyes and sighed to calm down. He was edging himself and he knew it was pay off later.

“Show me your tongue.” Your face was wet with tears and saliva and you did as he said. What you hadn’t expected was for him to spit right in your mouth.

“Swallow.” His hand was once again on your throat as you gulped down. “Good girl.” You preened at the praise and Steve pulled you up on his lap again.

You were still panting and Steve’s eyes refused to leave your heaving chest. Your threw your head back when he started tweaking your nipples with his fingers.

His hand on your bared throat and his thigh near your core was making you even more desperate. “Daddy.. pleaseee.!” You pleaded and Steve cooed at you.

He held your hips and was about to enter you when you stopped him. “Wait!” Steve stopped at that very instant and you couldn’t stop the feeling bubbling in your chest when Steve listened to you.

“I just.. I just wanna see you.” Steve was still very much dressed and you didn’t like that one bit. A smile replaced the worry on Steve’s face. “You’re so demanding,.. I like it.”

He pulled off his shirt and you moved aside as he removed his pants. His body was literally sculpted when the gods were happy, because he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“You’re so beautiful Steve,. Fuck!” You trailed your finger over his pecs and abs and straddled him again. He playfully swatted your ass, you squealed. “Don’t make me remind you again and again. What do you call me?”

“Daddy! I’m sorry.” You started humping yourself on his cock and he groaned as you were making him wet with your slick. “It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

He held you by your hips as he lined his length with your hole. You moaned while he cursed as you sank down on his length. “You’re so fucking tight!”

You started grinding your hips down on his cock and you whimpered as his cock was deliciously rubbing you. Steve laid back on the couch as he made you do all the work.

“Daddy please!” Your legs were jelly at this point and you weren’t really able to fuck yourself on him as you wanted to. “Please what?” He asked.

“Daddy, please fuck me hard!” You nearly screamed and Steve sprung into action. He curled his hand around your throat while he held your hips with his other and started fucking up in you.

You screamed and sank your nails deep in his shoulders as the wet squelch of fucking reverberated throughout the room. “You’re such a cockdrunk whore,,.. look how well your daddy’s cock is stretching you.”

You were shaking and you knew you weren’t far away from coming. “Please..!” Steve knew what you were pleading for as he could feel you clench down on his cock.

“No.” You whined in complaint as Steve didn’t stop. “Please daddy! Please lemme cum!” You pleaded but Steve just cruelly smirked. “You beg so nice!” Steve could feel himself close and he wanted to time your orgasm with his.

Tears had started once again running down your eyes and Steve was loving every second of it. He squeezed the hand on your throat, choking you.

You felt as if you couldn’t hold it in any longer and you started making pitiful moans, but Steve was feeling generous. “Cum for me!” He groaned through closed teeth and you shook as you came harder than you ever had.

Steve too came right as he felt your walls milking him tight. You both held each other tightly as the waves of pleasure washed over both of you.

Once you came down from the high, you felt like molasses and dropped down on him. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you perked up again when you felt Steve pick you up.

“Steve…” you mumbled lazily. “Shhh… let me take care of you.” You felt like your heart was going to burst with emotions at Steve’s gentle tone.

He entered the bedroom and placed you on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom. Be returned with a warm wet washcloth and lightly washed your over sensitive body.

You just laid back and let Steve do his work until he was satisfied and looked at him with eyes filled with adoration. He settled back on the bed once he had made you drink a glass of water and cleaned up.

He pulled you close below the covers and you nuzzled in his warmth. You pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss and he held you so gently as if you were made of glass.

As you laid down on his chest, peaceful and satisfied, you couldn’t help but started giggling. “What happened?” Steve asked in an amused tone. And you giggled some more before replying,

“It’s always the quiet ones.”

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s3ibro · 2 years ago

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Hallowed

capitano x f! reader

800 words

warnings/tags: not beta read, but no other warnings <3

a/n: this was the first chapter of a fic I was gonna post to ao3 but like… i lost inspiration. im sorry y’all, i think imma stick to one shots. enjoy this tho :)

The Goddess of Love is not known for her forgiveness.

Nobody thinks twice when whispers reach Zapolyarny Palace of a woman in the countryside, some nobleman’s daughter, blessed by the heavens with the power of a vision and beauty beyond compare. They do not realize that some have begun to call her goddess. They do not realize that even amidst the Fatui footsoldiers, blasphemy abounds, and secret prayers are offered behind their masks not to their Tsaritsa, but instead to the Lady Krasota, pleading for her mercy in battles to come, or her blessing in endeavors of courtship.

Sandrone is the first to see. She sees all, hears all, and realizes what it means when victory toasts are made, “To our Lady, to beauty!”

Scouts report nothing when they return from the west; all they say as they kneel before the throne is how lovely it is, how gentle the snows and how quaint the towns.

They are beheaded, right there in the throne room. Tartaglia makes a fine executioner; one need not wipe hydro blades for bloodstains.

The Tsaritsa sends Capitano, the fearsome. She sends him with a small army, and with a mission to burn away the impurity of heresy. Always, he’s been a loyal dog. Her gift to him, a delusion of Geo, sways heavily on its chain as he marches through the early-spring snow.

The whispers and the screams have led him here, this provincial capital called Rybivo.

It is a silent advance to the lord’s mansion, broken only by the snap of ice sheets beneath soldiers’ boots. Capitano need not order his troops with words. When he walks, they march perfectly in his time, left, right, left; when he stops, they stop, snapping to a perfect ready.

There is a solid sound to his knock on your door, metal gauntlet against dark walnut wood; an ax against a chopping block.

Svetla Petrovna moves to open it, but just before she can reach the doorhandle, you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. In her eyes you see it, in your chest, you feel it: Fear. Something about this isn’t right.

“(y/n), who is at the door?” One of your older sisters calls from the foyer. You do not answer, because she already knows.

“I’ll answer it, Svetla,” You tell the servant girl. Her hand does not move from the doorhandle. “Svetla?”

“I won’t let them take you,” She says in a trembling tone, “You-- you are our Lady. Our goddess. They are nothing.”

“No!” You hiss, grabbing her by the shoulders and yanking her from the door. “No, I… I have a request.”

Her eyes, fawnlike with youth, are filled with tears and terrifying devotion.

“Anything for you.”

“Run out the kitchen door, then climb the courtyard wall to avoid the soldiers. Run home as fast as you can. You are not to return to the estate for a fortnight. When you come back, go up to my bedchamber and look in my wardrobe. Inside, you’ll find a stack of papers. I want you to burn them. Can you do that for me?”

Another knock. Your mind goes blank.

“Open the door.”

The man’s voice is slightly muffled, but even through the door you can hear the low, modulated quality it carries… and the threat.

Svetla sprints down the hall towards the kitchens. As soon as she’s past the threshold and round the corner, you open the doors.

A sudden urge to run; a scream forming at the back of your throat.

“I am Capitano, fourth of the Fatui Harbingers.”

Why?

“Yes, I-- It is an honor. What brings you to this tiny village, Lord Harbinger?”

You want to squirm as he cups your jaw in his massive hand, pulling you ever so slightly closer. Through the shadow of his helm, you cannot see his eyes, but you feel them, bouring into you like needles unto flimsy fabric. You hear your pulse in your ears, and each breath gently fogs in the early spring air. At last, he pulls away; the burning sensation of freezing metal lingers.

“I’m searching for a woman. One said to be more beautiful than the gods.”

Again, you feel his eyes rather than see them as they trail down your form.

“Because,” he says slowly, “Our lady the Tsaritsa does not stand for falsities. She is Schneznaya’s sole goddess. And no mortal, no matter how alluring, may ever surpass her.”

Capitano reaches for a strand of hair that has fallen from its place behind your ear, and returns it with surprising gentleness. His voice lowers to a gruff whisper,

“I do believe I’ve found her.”

#capitano genshin impact #fatui capitano #Capitano x fem! reader #Eros and psyche retelling #fem reader #hngngngn #capitano / reader #capitano x reader

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shinwoonoh · 2 years ago

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it’s ep 4 of the eighth sense and i still don’t believe jaewon is in therapy.

i asked myself why? why, when it’s getting quite obvious that jaewon is in therapy, from the woman accusing him of just being here for the drugs and to jaewon stating his parents forced him to come here 10 years ago. he sits there on a couch for four as a silhouette. the water is clear and glowing behind him. she essentially tells him to spit it out for god’s sake, says he has depression, and jaewon tells her i’m getting sick of myself wearing a mask when I’m dealing with others.

(or a deeply personal piece about my experiences with being asian and the idea of therapy, all prompted by the privilege of getting to experience the eighth sense)

[tw: depression, suicide ideation, ptsd]

i’m first generation chinese canadian and queer. my sister has depression, had thoughts of suicide, all while i myself was being emotionally and verbally abused at work. it’s been 5 years but when i drive by a white toyota 4runner (because that’s the car they drove), i’m still gripped with fear. i can only stare straight ahead hoping to god it’s not them it’s not them it’s not. i want to drive the other way onto oncoming traffic

i told my mom then, that my sister needs help - a doctor, therapy, - call the goddamn pastor from church - anything.

she told me, what use is therapy going to do?

my mom was a registered nurse. when i was a kid, she used to bring me with her on her night shifts and i’d eat tuna croissant sandwiches with the seniors in front of the biggest television box i’ve ever seen in my life. cross legged on the floor because the po po’s and gong gong’s took all the chairs. she told me if old white ladies ask for kleenex and you give them toilet paper, they’ll be mad. it’s different here.

so it’s ep 4 of the eighth sense and i don’t believe therapy exists in the minds of asian people and culture

i took a new job. vowed not to make friends at work. clock in clock out. gave limited info when coworkers asked questions. smiled and giggled. i observed and mimicked behaviour that would let me fit in. i learned how to hug someone when they were upset (tight and long, soothe their backs with open palms) even though i didn’t want to hug anyone, let alone have anyone touch me anywhere that was soft

i was masking.

been masking. for a long time.

i fit in so well, everyone likes me. i’ve been told i’m the favourite by pretty much everyone. hell, i’ve had coworkers fighting over me, told i can do and say no wrong. i’m not trying to brag. i hate being the centre of attention. i steer conversation immediately to the other person so i don’t have to talk about myself too much. just enough to seem normal, to look human - to be liked.

(even as i’m writing this, there are too many words and paragraphs about me, why would anyone read this? y’all are here for the eighth sense but i’m going on like a celebrity writing their autobiography about their tragic childhood and how they were able to rise above - so, okay, i should start sprinkling in some actual t8s content analysis, for god’s sake)

jaewon says i want to free myself from human relationships

what happened to jaewon? we don’t know entirely yet. but everybody loves jaewon. the teacher will give him a good mark because he likes jaewon. everybody in class wants him to be their project partner and everybody’s missed him since he’s been away in the army please hang out with us jaewon let’s go drinking jaewon you better show up jaewon or it would be a shame, jaewon you are so likeable loveable cool lucky don’t worry about jaewon he’s got everything going on for him

then he meets jihyun and i think jaewon has a hard time finding the right mask to put on to deal with the freshman. and he slips a lot. when he starts to talk about his brother, after eunji shows up because of taehyung’s scheming, when jihyun repeatedly corrects him that it’s jaewon that wants to be friends - not him. and finally when he kisses jihyun

he’s having such a hard time and he slips up so bad, that the next safest option is to mask right back up

oh jaewon was drunk he has a habit of kissing and yeah he’ll join them after he helps yoon won wrap things up he’s the new best friend so let’s have a meal together with jihyun and his roommate next time

3 years into my new job, someone returns to the company and we become friends, on a soulmate level. i think i was in love with her - i definitely had a crush on her. but anyways, somehow i see her and i was suddenly all sorts of things because of her. i start to look forward to work. i add my coworkers on facebook and ig. we go to parties with our bosses and a few of us go on a couple of road trips even though the pandemic is blazing in the background

she saw me, even when i didn’t want to be seen. i remember getting a particularly anxiety-inducing email from my previous job. i’m in the staff room sitting quietly, staring at my feet. i try to breathe.

i’m alone for the whole of it but i emerge from the room again. ready to leave for the day and somehow, my friend sees me. asks me what’s wrong?

how did she know? i didn’t cry. i looked in the mirror before i came out. i didn’t even say anything to her. but i tell her, quietly at first and then easily and then finally with so much - so. much. honesty.

she tells me i get it. of course you feel that way. why wouldn’t you feel that way? it’s completely understandable. i know you.

we hug. it’s one of the best hugs i’ve ever received.

she leaves for another job. i try to go on, all open and soft parts exposed. but little by little, i go back into my shell.

why would i want to show the entirety of myself? all the bits of me are all the ways i can embarrass myself, expose myself, show myself to people who will take what i show and twist and move it all in a way that becomes unrecognizable and uncontrollable

so i mask

but it’s goddamn tiring and exhausting. jaewon is exhausted. you see it in his eyes as he stares off out into nowhere when jihyun tells him his name. when they’re sitting in the train, and he’s smiling at jihyun at first and then jihyun’s smile falls open, and we see jaewon’s expression: there’s a downward movement to his lips. it’s so miniscule. maybe i’m imagining it

but that’s the moment i think jihyun sees when he tells aeri he ran into jaewon sunbae yesterday, and he didn’t look okay.

what was i talking about? oh yes, therapy and being asian and how disconnected that is to me. nobody asian goes to therapy. i can hear all the aunties and my popo saying sometimes doctors are wrong and medicine isn’t going to help. my grandma didn’t believe my grandpa had dementia and alzheimer’s even to the last minute of his death and past it. she said he was annoying and stupid when he forgot where he put his ring or when he would leave the stove on until a hole burnt through the pot.

in the farewell, a story about a chinese family that lied to their aging matriarch that she didn’t have terminal lung cancer. all of them flew back to china for a rushed and premature marriage, used as an excuse to go tearily say goodbye to their soon-to-be dead grandma/mom/mother in law, etc. the juxtaposition of them celebrating a happy marriage while crying on stage to her about her for her as she claps with happiness and pride, but also with confusion, is funny. they never tell her. and she miraculously is cured of cancer. it’s like she never had it. they lied to her because they wanted her to be happy. be happy so she wouldn’t die.

so what good will medicine, let alone, therapy do? just be happy. easy, right?

i hope jaewon continues to open up. i hope he finds that soulmate of his, maybe in jihyun, maybe in himself. i know opening up and unmasking is scary. but also masking is so uncomfortable that i want to crawl out of my skin. it’s alienating and lonely.

even writing all of this out, i still don’t think jaewon is in actual therapy. i’ve never seen it personally in asian media. so i think it’s so sad that when i’m being given a beautiful example of a korean person in korea going to therapy or whatever type of appointment relationship agreement this is where jaewon gets asked what’s bothering him and he answers truthfully and almost painlessly. like he’s been doing this for 10 years.

and i don’t believe it. it’s so fucked up that i don’t believe it. i keep thinking when will the rug be pulled out from under me? surely there’s no such thing as an asian person going to therapy. fuck, evelyn travelled through the multiverse and there’s not one of her in therapy

but it’s right there in front of my own eyes: jaewon getting counselled and advised, she has a notebook, an aquarium to look at when you’re nervous, big round metal balls to stare right back at you when you need a distraction and it’s been 10 years. i watched it all with the same eyes that saw my parents fight and punch holes in the wall before going to couple retreats at church and coming back stronger than ever. the last time i saw them fight, i was in high school. even as my sister finally spoke to her doctor and she saw a therapist, then a psychiatrist and now she’s on medication and she’s doing better. i’m not afraid she’s going to hurt herself anymore. my soulmate sees a counsellor and messages me randomly and it’s so eerily weird when she knows i’m struggling even when we’re a mountain apart

it’s all in front of me. but i don't believe it.

#the eighth sense #basically: what's it like to be mentally stable? rofl #don't know her #ANYWAYS god that was really personal and i hope this sits okay with some people #the eighth sense really just pulled this out of me and i'm really surprised i'm okay with sharing all of this #mywriting #ok to reblog

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cdyssey · 2 years ago

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Abbott 2.15 Thoughts:

ABBOTT TIME. I drew this last night because I didn’t have the episode to obsess over.

“I am one minor inconvenience away from putting this whole day in rice.” What a glorious expression, omg.

Ava about Jacob’s carrot cookies: “Mm, no. Just looking at them almost put me over the top.” WKWJWNSNS. Also, Ava’s entirely pink pantsuit, omfg. Hot.

Melissa having her kids in line two seconds into the fire alarm vs. Ava HIGH-TAILING it OUT OF THERE QKQKWNDNSKAK. (It’s funny and so consistent with what we know about her!! She’s a Doomsday prepper! She’s always fearing the worst!)

YOU’RE FUCKING KIDDING ME. I WAS ANGST-POSTING ABOUT BARB’S CANDLE ACCIDENTALLY BURNING HERS AND MEL’S TABLE AND IT HAPPENED!!!!!!!!! LISTEN!

Mel: “Because as someone who wanted to be a firefighter, I hate fires. They sicken me. I want to fight them.” / Barb: “Smoke and fire—the devil’s fresh air.” Get you two girlfriends who have very strong opinions about fires.

The actor who plays Captain Robinson looks so familiar to me, omg. I’ve seen this dude before, but WHERE?

QQKWJWNWJEJEJDDJ, Ava’s prepper video. She’s gonna fight fire with fire.

“Facebook crashing—that’s for the older teachers… and a lice outbreak—for the white teachers.” Lmfao.

“Oh, my God. Someone’s trying to use cashmere and Jesus to blackmail Barbara.” / “You mean frame.” / “Semantics.” QOQOQKQMSNDNSJSJJSS. Name another show on air rn that’s funnier than this. Goddamn.

Mel about a fire truck: “Yeah, that’s—that’s one big daddy.” SOBBING. DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT.

“That’s where youse all work those cute little puppy dog eyes to get the firefighters to let us play on the truck.” AOQMQWNSN. She is so fucking adorable.

Mel’s uncle being a firefighter and Joe maybe having been a firefighter!

“Wow… would you look at this big hunk of”—the firefighter assumes she’s coming over to flirt—“metal.” AKQWMENDJE.

“See, this is why I love fire trucks. I get older—they stay the same.” WOQOWJDNS. I’m losing it.

HOT COUNSELOR. WE DID IT, FANDOM. WE MANIFESTED HOT COUNSELOR.

“It is late morning, and the container is still completely full. I’ll pass.” QQKWJWJWJSJSJSDS.

“Me? Oh, I’m just fine.” Barbara Howard being in full mask mode. Oh, my God.

“Are you writing I’m fine?” / “Well, that’s a lot of writing for ‘I’m fine.’” / “It’s just two words and one of them is a contraction.” Not only does Barbara have to assert to herself that she’s fine, but she also has to be externally validated that other people are buying into her outward shields as well.

“So if there’s anyone to blame, it would be the wind.” 😭 Sobbing.

“Yes, but it seems like you’re an investigator of feelings. And I want you to know that I am feeling just fine.” Barbara spiraling. Y’all, I can’t do this.

Janine trying to use the trauma counselor like a therapist. 😭

Mel showing off her knowledge about fire trucks. This girl is hyperfixated!!!! She’s just like me, fr!! AKANSNSS, her getting inside the truck and honking the horn.

Gregory needing to put on his sweater + that little smirk he gives to the camera. AJWNDNS. God, I love him. / The counselor going, “We’ll dig into that later.” WKWKEJDNS.

“I’ve longed for protocol. This is the best day of my life.”

Gregory guessing that almost everyone in the book except for Barbara is not well-adjusted because no one expects for her to fall apart. She’s so good at keeping it together. Oh, my fucking GOD. (Also, lmao, at Mr. Johnson being the singlemost well-adjusted man the counselor has ever met.)

“I’m talking about Barbara Howard.” / “Are you sure don’t mean Janine?” NOT GREGORY GESTURING AT KID HEIGHT. ANQJWJKWDJ.

“Nothing shakes up people more than a fire. There’s usually something under the surface.” / “I feel like you’re reading her wrong. Barbara is the most put together and collected person at this school.” Sobbing. And then Barbara comes in AGAIN to reiterate that she’s fine. She has to hear SOMEONE ELSE tell her and confirm that she’s fine. She’s so insecure if she perceives that people aren’t buying her “I’m fine/I’m perfect” shtick. JESUS. I’m so normal about Barbara Howard.

WOQQKSJSJS. Barbara has never listened to Chaka Khan’s “Through the Fire” on her PANDORA. That is such a perfect detail. These writers know their characters so well.

Gregory coming to check in on Barbara. 🥺

“You are not a principal, Gregory. You are but a child.” HELP.

“I’m as good as it gets. Perfect, even.” I am UNWELL about this woman.

“Gregory, I am spiritually tenured. Mandates are nothing more than fervent suggestions. Ava would let me skip this.” QOQKQKWKWIEJDNSNSN. I know all my Barbava friends screamed.

“And don’t you think that if anyone should attend the fire safety meeting, it should be you, considering…?” 😭😭

“My shawl caught fire on a stained-glass Jesus candle. Nobody got hurt. So why don’t we all just put this ordeal behind us and move forward?”

Gregory putting his foot down!!!

“I miss Ava.” THE EMPHASIS IN MRS. BARBARA HOWARD’S VOICE. WKWNSNS. JERI, JERI, ARE YOU OKAY?

Melissa’s kids being bored af akkwjwiwjdnsw.

Gregory confiding in Janine about his worries about Barb, and Janine immediately going through the gamut of concerned questions. 😭 That’s their MOM.

“Doesn’t even make sense. Why would a fire own sunglasses?” Lmfao.

“Less of a question and more of a comment. I could run this meeting in my sleep.” Her energy in this episode GOD.

Melissa’s dreams of being a firefighter crushed by misogyny. 😭

“You can’t spell firefighter without ‘her.’” JACOB KQOQKWWKEJD.

Teddie trying to be Barbara’s supporters behind her, but Gregory getting himself into some deep shit by intuiting that Barbara’s insecurity is “getting older and becoming forgetful.” Melissa, indignant, protective: “What the hell?”

“You have no idea the nonsense that teachers get away with here repeatedly, but the one time I light a candle for peace of mind, without ever having a prior problem, you want to take it away from me. Well, that is unfair and ridiculous!” I AM SOBBJNG.

MEL RUNNING AFTER HER. THOSE ARE MY WORK WIVES.

Barbara in her classroom, arms crossed over her chest, breathing heavily. Hhhgh, and Mel immediately showing up to console her.

WOWOQKSNSJW, MEL TRYING TO CONSOLE HER VIA SHOWING HOW HOT SHE LOOKS NEXT TO A FIRE TRUCK. “Hard to be mad when I look that good.”

“Your hair matches the truck. Marvelous.” This is a funny line, but the way Barbara’s voice is on the verge of breaking. I’m going to McFucking lose it, and Melissa hears it too.

“You wanna talk about it?” Barbara initially shakes her head and repeats the same refrain she’s been peddling all episode, “I’m fine.” But then, because it’s Melissa, because she feels safe with her, she turns around and confides. “Been dealing with Gerald’s health.” There are tears in my eyes.

Melissa, wide-eyed, so goddamn tender: “Barb.” / “We had a prostrate situation.”

Melissa puts a hand on Barbara’s arm: “Oh, no. Oh, my gosh. Is he okay?” All of the mirth Mel has displayed throughout the entire episode is gone. She’s so present and sensitive to Barbara Howard.

“Yeah, doctor call this morning, said he is in the clear.” / Melissa, exhaling in relief: “Oh, thank God.” / “But those PSA numbers came back high. And y-y’know, the past few days, just waiting to find out the results, it’s been stressful.” / “Of course. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know.” Melissa’s voice being as gentle as it is literally going to break me.

“Well, all I could do was light my candle and pray… what was I gonna do? Sit around and worry about it all day? That never does any good.” Sheryl Lee Ralph, I’m sending you my therapy bill, and also nominating you for another Emmy. 😭

“Right? That’s life. Just always something coming at ya. You just gotta keep on truckin’.”

“I mean, if we were to blab every time life got hard, we would be…” / “Janine.” / GOD WKQOWKWDNKEJWJEJDNSS.

“Janine,” Barbara repeats, and they both laugh. Melissa teased that beautiful laugh out of her, and you can see that Barb has exhaled a little bit, just being able to confide in one of the people she loves and trusts most in this world. Don’t talk to me for 3-7 business days. I’m a WRECK.

“Oh, I’m glad he’s okay, honey.” And Mel goes in for the hug, but Barb’s back in composure mode, and she resists the full version. She’s still clearly… unsettled. 😭

MEL STEALING THE FIREFIIGHTER’S KEYS SJSJIWJS.

IT’S A FIFTY-SEVEN STEP RECIPE. AKQKWNSNWJS.

Jacob engineering a situation where they can use the aerial for Melissa. That’s his work mom!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Well, either way, I will not be lighting my candle anymore. And that’s life, right? Right?” 😭 Life has only taught her that she has to repress the things that give her comfort. Ma’am.

BARBARA CONSOLING HER STUDENT. I’M INCONSOLABLE.

“You know it’s okay to feel scared. You don’t have to pretend that you’re not. Pretending can make it harder.” And then she reaches out and offers the student her hand. “You know; sometimes Mrs. Howard gets scared… and upset too.” Her smile briefly falls, her mask. “And that’s okay. Okay?” I’m sk fucking. I am 😭😭😭

MELISSA ON THE AERIAL!!!!!! JACOB BEING PUMPED.

“Ooh, should she really be up there in heels?” / “She’s wearing a helmet.” AKQOQKWISNSJ

“Hey, why don’t you try playing a sport that actually involves balls—like downhill skiing.” AQoqojqqoJQJWJDJD.

The Schemmentis being a legend. 😭 THE FIRE BEING STARTED BY HER OTHER UNCLE. “And I’m not snitching. He’s proud of it!”

Barbara clearing things up with the counselor!!! The counselor suggesting a day off!!!!!!!!! The counselor KNOWING that she can’t call it a mental health day because Barbara would never take it because she doesn’t consider her mental health as being a valid reason for taking care of herself. 😭

Barb taking the day off!!!!!!!!

“Just because you’ve got a round face like the Teletubbies sun baby doesn’t mean that the world revolves around you.” OQKQWKSNSNSN, AVA, MA’AM, I MISSED YOU. They write the funniest shit for her.

Ava trying to send Barb to the spa!! Barb spending time with her hubby. Listen, I’m sentimental.

MELISSA THINKING THE COOKIES ARE DELICIOUS SJSJDJS.

Perfect, perfect, perfect episode. I’m not going to stop thinking about it for five weeks. Oh, my God.

#maggie blogs #abbott elementary spoilers #s: abbott elementary

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 3 years ago

Text

♡ Yandere Alphabet ♡ Wanda Maximoff. Because why not?

*Not my GIF, did I mention how much I love this GIF?

Author’s Note: So I saw someone do this on tumblr, but I can’t find it now, so I’m gonna make one for her.

I’m also gonna use second-person pronouns because why not?

Should I also do one for Anya? I’m probably gonna do one for Anya.

Also guess who got her first policy warning on ao3 because I advertized my Fiverr thing. (I deleted those sections of the one that got a complaint) And I'm now scared that I might've posted more advertising shit that I don't remember.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Wanda loves affection from you. She craves it. It'd be a lot of domestic and cute things from cuddles to homemade meals and even setting up a bubble bath and massages for you when you're stressed. She falls in love HARDCORE, so prepare for major intensity-grade affection.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Wanda doesn’t need to get messy with those who she believes are trying to take you away from her. She has her magic.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Not a shred of cruelty. She loves you, practically worships you, to an extreme extent. If you’re her beloved, chances are you’ll never be able to leave her. (Though I’ve seen from the notes that you wouldn’t necessarily complain)

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Probably read your mind or control you if you weren’t being good. (Though I know some of you are likely down bad for that, I see you Wanda simps. No shame, but don’t lie.)

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

I think it would be pretty difficult for her to not be vulnerable around you. Unless you piss her off, then she would harden up until she’s convinced that you’ve come back around.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Wanda would probably be a mixture of amusement, confusion, and hurt. She thinks it’s cute that you think you can win, confused as to why, and hurt because you’re fighting back.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Absolutely not. She goes all in in terms of love, that’s kind of who she is; it’s no game, it’s a commitment. She’d feel hurt, even angry, if you’d tried to escape. But at the same time, she’s the freaking Scarlet Witch, a supernatural being who holds the magic of an elder god. Chances are you won’t be escaping any time soon.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably fear projections. Oh, and what goes on in MoM. (except I know some of y’all are definitely into that. Don’t lie to me.)

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Ideally, a suburban town house with friendly neighbors and a family. Basically WandaVision without the whole “accidentally-mind-controlling-the-entire-town” thing. But she wouldn’t mind if you wanted to live by the ocean or the forest or what-have-you. She really just wants somewhere cozy to start a family with you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

She can definitely get jealous, but it’s usually not a problem because she can use a bit of magic to fix it right up.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

She’d be very lovey-dovey, I think. Doting and affectionate, practically worshipping you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

She’d likely start by figuring out your schedule/where you’d go. Then move up to talking to you more. Giving you little gifts. Introducing you to sitcoms she loves.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

In public, she’s very quiet and aloof, preferring to be on her own mostly. But when it’s just the two of you, she’s a cuddle bug, head over heels in love for you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Fear Projections, sending nightmares, emotional manipulation. Though she feels horrible about it and means every apology.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Right away? Probably just not letting you go certain places, maybe restraining you. (which I know some of you are into, don’t lie. No shame, but don’t lie)

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Initially she’s very patient, I think. But if they kept pushing her too far, it’d get bad.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Ummm.....I think we’ve all seen where that’s led to. Both in WandaVision and for those who’ve seen it, not gonna spoil much, MoM.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

She’d probably feel guilty deep down, but I think she’d justify it as that she deserves to be happy for once.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

*Insert basically every instance of trauma from her life from the death of her parents to the shit that happens in MoM.*

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

That’d be hell to her. She hates seeing you upset and would do almost anything to make you happy. Almost being the key word.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Being a witch is pretty different. Also I don’t think she’d necessarily kill anyone, unless....if you know, you know.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

I would say her loving and trusting nature with those she loves and cares about. But when she catches you, (yes when, not if) she’ll trust you less.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

She wouldn’t mean to. At her core, she’s a sweetheart who just wants to love and be loved. But she has pretty intense magic, so it could happen on accident. And it would be a stab in the heart to her.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Oh, you have no idea the lengths she’d go to win you over. She’d practically treat you like a god(dess), especially if you did the same to her.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

She can definitely be patient. She doesn’t like to rush right into things, as much as she knows that you two are destined for each other. She likes to take her time getting to know you, likely by reading your mind without your consent.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I doubt she would break you intentionally. But she might do it on accident because of her intense magic. She’d feel bad, but....perhaps she can use this to mold you into her perfect beloved. One who would depend on her and her alone.

#yandere alphabet #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #avengers yandere #marvel yandere #avengers #marvel

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