#(I was upfront with both of them and I'm the one who got tossed out to sea for it.)

[dorosen]

Re: Horuss / Cronus fic

Do you have ideas for prompts or AUs you would be interested in seeing? I would love to have smth to work on while I grind away at colleg. Let me know!

Receiving this ask is synonymous with having a bar of gold strike me down on my lap from a plane flying overhead.

But yeah, I've got a few ideas! I mostly like to think about them working around their unspoken feelings for each other (that fluctuates between red and black), knowing there's some sort of connection there that they don't acknowledge because of their situation. 

A few dynamics I enjoy, which I think Cronus x Horuss fit well in to, are: lots of tension (where they keep taking it further even though they know they shouldn't), very intense feelings (one-sided or mutual), unable to be together (in this case, because one of them is already in a committed relationship), and contrast (physical/personality).

Cronus was a huge nerd when he was younger, and Horuss (also very nerdy) has remained fairly consistent with his interests throughout his life. However, I don't believe they got along well when they were younger, mostly because Cronus was too upfront with his intentions, and Horuss wouldn't sit back and take any of it (I imagine a lot of the childish flirting fell flat since Horuss wouldn't get it at first). I do imagine banter was frequent between them (and probably still is on occasion), with it mostly being Cronus bothering Horuss until he either logged off or blocked him. That is until he has that personality shift when he's older, which I feel is something Cronus would take advantage of. Not to mention, Horuss is fairly oblivious and probably wouldn't back away from any advancements until they were taken too far, causing him to revert back to his old self momentarily to address the situation. Both of them are also pretty emotional, and their perspective on the hemospectrum lines up pretty well. I feel like interacting would gradually bring out the worst in each other, but oddly enough, it would work. Horuss, in Aranea's words, is a lover, and Cronus just wants someone to bone, so I feel like they'd satisfy each other's needs pretty well, as messy as it would get. Ultimately, it'd just be two loners getting along in a pretty dysfunctional way, but hey, at least it works for them (and thank god they keep away from everyone else since they're too invested in each other). And truthfully I feel like Cronus' crappy pick up lines would actually work on Horuss by that point.

ANYWAY with that long spiel out of the way...

I'm always a sucker for Cronus being Horuss' rebound post break up, with them developing genuine feelings for each other as time passes. I also enjoy the idea of Cronus being a little obsessive and integrating himself into Horuss' life (or afterlife?) more and more. But man, one of my favorites has got to be them fighting, straight up. Cronus would get a kick out of tormenting Horuss and his happy facade, tearing it down a bit. But this wouldn't go so smoothly, as Horuss isn't exactly a pushover (he can be defiant when he wants to be). Now this one isn't really a prompt, but I find it funny that Horuss is one of the few trolls who willingly listens to Kankri talk. They seem to be decent buddies who would dump information to each other for hours. And seeing as Cronus and Kankri frequently engage in an ego jerk circle with one another, Horuss being thrown into that mix would be like tossing a wrench into a jet turbine.

Sorry if it isn't too clear btw, this specific pairing is so interesting to me

#txt #croruss #I have too much to say about them and not enough time grr

[midnightfallings]

Whumptober Day One

@ailesswhumptober

Drugging / sick / poisoned

CW & TW

Implied: Red Rooms, human trafficking, starvation, torture

Drugging, blood, swearing, use of gendered phrases

•

Toby had dreaded this day, curled up on the barely there mattress in Kyle's room. Old room he has to remind himself. And it really didn't belong to him in a traditional sense either; the only furnishings were the bed itself, a clear plastic Tupperware that his few clothes were tossed into, and the small bathroom that only had a toilet and a sink, no door.

He had received a full physical three days ago from what he assumed was an actual doctor, which was incredibly bizarre. He was too stunned to even ask questions. Even after the scene with the fire poker a year ago, he had only received burn cream and a bandage from Stephanie, and that was the extent of any care. But that. That was weird. Then, for his only meal later that same day was actual steak and potatoes, which he was told to eat slowly, as not to throw up on himself. Then, for the past two and a half days, he had received not only breakfast but lunch and dinner too.

But who was he to question extra, and hot, food being given to him? He had gotten so very tired of cold cut turkey or their leftover take out that was nearly going bad? But with every bite of the warmth soothing his aching gums and throat and stomach, he felt it like a tickle at the back of his skull.

"I got sold."

There was a commotion going on in front of the door to his room.

"I'm not doing this. This is bullshit. You should do it." Stephanie. Rough when she needed to be, which was most of the time, but had always come to clean his wounds and talk to him after a session. Especially if she was the one on the other side or directing. He knew she was just doing her job.

"You're so fucking soft. That's why it has to be you to teach you a fucking lesson and grow some balls." Devon. A prick and pain in the ass most of the time, but knew when to call it quits to protect the merchandise. Him. All of them.

The door was thrust open, a plastic brief case and Stephanie shoved in, and swiftly locked. Once she regained her balance on the bed frame, and a hissed, "dickhole," from her, she stared not at him but at the plaster a little above his head. "Hey Tobes."

He began to tremble. This was it. Even though the scenes and sessions were never predictable, at least he had routine here. Saw the door to the room and the red light above it and knew what he was in for. Now he would be in the hands of someone who he didn't know, and didn't know him.

The bed squeaked and the mattress sank down as she sat on it, the plastic case in her lap. She was fiddling with one of the clasps with a thumb.

"Listen, the both of us know exactly what's going on here. But just know that this wasn't easy for us. We had actually turned down offers for you in the past, did you know that?" He shook his head. "But we just couldn't say no to this one. One hundred thousand dollars. That's how much he paid, upfront with Harrison. Cash. So you understand that was an opportunity we couldn't exactly pass up, right?"

He felt like he was going to be sick, and there were no cameras around to capture it for one of the sites they worked with. He shook his head again. He understood. He understood, but his eyes filled with tears. He was always so emotional.

She patted the case softly with one hand. "And look! The guys even agreed to let me give you a little something to make the move a little easier. I'm glad to see you in the sweater I like. It's almost time to go, so you can then think of it as a parting gift if you want."

The sweater was a simple grey one, red roses printed into the soft fabric. He rolled one of the sleeves a little past the elbow and presented her with his arm. He knew from hearing the screams and the fights down the hall that it was much easier to comply. He didn't want to have to get handcuffed and dragged into the van, like Kyle did. There were still red stains from his blood in the wood floor. And he had survived this long by being perfectly pliable.

The needle was small and sucked up the drugs from the vial like it was hungry for it. He couldn't help the buzz of excitement that this small mercy was going to be afforded to him, that he would get to fly there, first class.

As the drugs were put into his veins, as she kissed him forcefully, her tongue wet in his mouth, her finally gave her what she wanted. A softly spoken, not horse from screaming or around a gag or swallowed up in his own blood: "Okay."

#ailesswhumptober2023 #Whump #AILWT DAY ONE DRUGGING #Toby #listen I have no idea where i am going with this but Toby must be protected at all costs #Also Stephanie is not a good guy!!! #OC writing #whumptober #whumptober 2023

[eolewyn1010]

LGBTQIA+ characters and representation in season 1 of Charité

I'm gonna talk about what's in the title, but first things first: Warnings.

Spoilers for all three seasons of "Charité". Duh.

This is all personal opinion and should not be taken for objective truth.

I'll do this by quality, not chronology, by which I mean I'll talk about season 1, season 3, then season 2, in that order.

For season 1, here there be mentions of self-harm.

I'm gonna get babbly; buckle up. We'll be here for a while. I wanted to do this in one go, but that got way long, so I'm splitting it by seasons.

Now with that out of the way, let's go into why season 1 pissed me off so badly with how it treated its lesbian character Therese. But credit where it's due, we have queer representation in a setting that would, historically, be dead-silent about such a thing as queer people even existing. (I maintain that Heinrich von Minckwitz is about as straight as a diamond-studded rainbow, but that'd be a queer-coded villain, an entirely different minefield, and also difficult to prove on canon.) We do get a lesbian character. Shame that it's for nothing.

Therese crushes on Ida, as two other characters already have - I don't know why they're all so after this frankly very bland girl (no offense against Alicia von Rittberg because I've seen her play better, but I'm afraid she wasn't given much to do with Ida), though it feels kinda like a Mary Sue effect. She's the main character, so of course she has three admirers at once. Thing is, while Ida does end up single, the arcs about the two dudes in love with her are brought to a conclusion. Therese's lovestory goes absolutely nowhere. Shes given no agency to do anything with it beyond longing gazes and an angsty kiss. They tied a nice bow around that via Bury Your Gays and tossed it away so that Ida never has to deal with it. And yes, it definitely is a Bury Your Gays, whether or not tuberculosis is everywhere and the Tuberculin is useless - Therese is not the only named character who falls ill, but (aside from one-episode stars), she's the only one who dies. Hell, Dr. Ehrlich recovers from tuberculosis all by himself, Stine gets miraculously healed from advanced diphtheria within freaking seconds. Therese dies, and she dies an ugly death, and gets tormented on the way there (I'm not over the lung puncture scene). Fuck y'all queer audience, amirite? *siiigh*

And Ida never adresses this. She's Therese's best friend, she breaks down entirely when Therese dies, but talk to her about the feelings Therese has for her? Nah. That dumbass girl seriously goes, "oh, you must be my bridesmaid when I marry Georg!" which makes her come across as extremely lacking in empathy. Although that's at least par for the course; she makes eyes at Georg while Therese is standing by and then asks her all innocently, "why can't we be friends anymore?", she gets kissed by her and then proceeds to use Therese as a marriage councellor because we can't have two women talk about anything else than a man for a minute here (I swear, if it wasn't for Nurse Edith, not a single episode of this season would pass the Bechdel test). And yeah, there is the setting. Nobody in that time would talk about such a thing as a woman being in love with another woman, right? Except, Therese does talk about it. As she's dying, she confesses her feelings to Ida... who just doesn't reply at all. I guess it sucks when your friend has feelings for you that you can't reciprocate and you don't want to hurt them, but Therese is hurting about this all the time. Ida could have had the respect to talk to her about it, if only to say, "I don't feel the same way." There's no point when she acknowledges Therese's feelings - and it would have been good for her as a character to do so, it would have made her stronger. An ally, not someone who's like, "if I don't see it, it's not there." Which is just... meh. Both for an upfront, fearless female protagonist and for a best friend.

The only character who does adress Therese's feelings is the matron - and amazingly, she doesn't do so exclusively in a negative way. I mean, she does initially call it an "unnatural attachment" because she's very much a strict and conservatively religious woman, but the narrative doesn't support that she maintains this point of view. It's made very clear that, for all her griping, Matron Martha has a high opinion of Therese; she grieves deeply when Therese falls ill and dies - and she's of the opinion that, in Heaven, Therese will be rewarded for her life's work. It's Therese who brings up her feelings for Ida as a reason why she'd go to hell; Matron Martha thinks of her first and foremost as a dutiful deaconess and hard-working nurse who has done a lot of good for a lot of people. She goes out of her way to make things easier for her, allows her to die at home, at Charité, even though she was very much against that at first, has Ida take care of her because it'll make Therese feel better, permits the use of an experimental medicament just because there could be a little hope in it. After Therese's death, she doesn't beat around the bush. She says to Ida, with no judgement or disparaging tone whatsoever, "Therese loved you very much." She calls it love, not a deviation or a sin or whatever idiots of the time might have called it otherwise. And Ida... doesn't say anything. How's it feel when a stuck-up old deaconess with an explicit allergy against progress is a better ally than you, huh, Ida? She's such a passive brat. Anyway.

The point is, Therese wasn't treated well by the story, her love for Ida was milked for all the drama it was worth without any intention to ever deal with it in a way that would have included the person in question. She doesn't get to do anything about it herself, for herself. She kisses Ida, she retreats, she suffers. She cuts herself, because we can't have a queer character be emotionally healthy. Breaking her and killing her slowly was more tragic than having her grow past the heartbreak, I guess. Also, that she felt tuberculosis was God's punishment for her being gay - the Bury Your Gays actually backs that up. Thanks, I hate it. Now, take it away, goddammit.

#Charité #feeling queer about this #character analysis #this got way salty

[reinvent-and-believe]

Dialogue prompt 42. "I'm only here to establish an alibi." Lambert/Aiden :) May the inspiration fairy visit you!!

It’s been a shit night. A shit night, a shit week, a shit month.

The rain that’s started up again every time he finally managed to get dry from the last round for the past three days has turned torrential, and between the thunder and the fucking hail Lambert’s not quite stubborn enough to try to ride through it. So he sits in a shitty inn still a day’s ride from Ellander, drinking shitty overpriced ale and ignoring the stares from shitty villagers who whisper to each other with their eyes glued on him. He’s too far from the fire for any hope of it drying out his soaking layers of clothes and armor, and he doesn’t have the coin to manage a bowl of stew if he wants a room.

All in all, another fucking day in the paradise that is the Path.

And because Lambert thinks that tonight can’t possibly get worse, the door slams open and another fucking witcher steps through it.

Fucking perfect.

Common folk are uneasy with one witcher, nervous and on edge and wary. Lambert doesn’t mind. Geralt would probably go out of his way to put the people’s minds at rest, make himself smaller and softer and friendlier than he is, the way Vesemir taught him, taught all of them. Fuck that. Lambert doesn’t mind that they’re afraid, that they pull their children behind them, that they give him a wide berth. Makes it easier to get them to fork over their coin after he’s dealt with their problems if they remember he’s not their friend.

But two witchers, two witchers become a threat. Two witchers together seem to remind people that they could wipe out a village like this without breaking much of a sweat if they were so inclined, and that tips that helpful apprehension into something a lot more reckless, a lot more lethal. One particularly memorable contract where he’d teamed up with Eskel ended with a dozen snarling, terrified villagers cornering them with pitchforks, and they’d’ve both been fucked had it not been for Eskel’s freakish strong Axii holding the crowd long enough for them to get the hell out of dodge.

(This was before Geralt’s fancy bard started his quest to single-handedly rehabilitate the witcher image, of course, but still. That shit stays with you.)

Every eye in the inn’s common room is fixed on this new witcher, and then, seemingly in unison, they remember Lambert.

The other witcher’s gaze follows the crowd’s, and when their eyes meet his face breaks into a dangerous smile. He slinks over, every movement full of a graceful precision unusual in a man his size. He’s smaller than Lambert, though not by much: his lean frame is lithe and sinewy, his shoulders broad, the arms bared by his short-sleeved jerkin defined, solid. His skin bears the same telltale scars of the profession as Lambert’s does in shades of pink and red and white.

A cat medallion hangs on his chest, swinging casually as he slips into the booth across from Lambert as though he belongs there.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Cat?” He pitches his voice as low as he can without a whisper dampening the impact of his growl. The less the onlookers hear of their exchange the better.

The Cat sprawls out as though he owns the place, an arm draping over the back of the booth. “Drop your hackles, Wolf, I’m not here to spirit away your contracts.” He gestures, beckoning the barkeep and Lambert nearly laughs at the audacity, as though that would possibly...until he notices that the man is heading towards their table with a mug of ale, which he sets before the Cat with a nod and nary a word about payment. The witcher takes a swig, tossing wet, shoulder-length brown hair out of his eyes in the process. A striking white scar intersects his sharp-angled eyebrow. His face is all sharp angles: strong, squared off jaw, covered in dark stubble; aquiline nose that looks to have been broken once; high, distinctive cheekbones.

Look, just because Lambert’s sure he’s up to no good doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the view.

“The name’s Aiden. And you are?”

“Not about to fall for any horseshit. What do you want, Cat?”

The Cat fixes him with that feral smile again. “To drink with a colleague.” At Lambert’s huff of disbelief, Aiden sighs. He drops his voice to a deep purr. “Relax, Wolf. I'm only here to establish an alibi. What could be more memorable than two witchers from enemy schools sharing a drink? It’ll be the talk of the town.”

“Rather not be the talk of the town. Rather put my head down, do the job, and avoid cocky assholes like you like the plague. Don’t really care to be part of some intrigue that’s gonna get me skewered.”

A flash of recognition lights Aiden’s handsome face. He nods, considering his words before he replies. “Spent a good while working jobs in this area last fall. Had some pretty grisly shit on their hands; a clan of wraiths haunting the woods just outside the village, cutting them off from the nearest fresh water source and slaughtering dozens every month. Then all those fresh corpses bring…”

“Fucking necrophages.” Lambert winces. It’s not an uncommon problem with wraiths. Unlike many of the monsters he hunts regularly, wraiths don’t consume the corpses, which has a tendency to attract secondary issues.

“Fucking necrophages,” Aiden confirms. “Ghouls and alghouls, mostly, but graveirs too, nests and nests of necrophages sprung up for miles in every direction. Job took over a month to wrap up. I stayed here at the inn, got to know most of the locals. Not saying we’re pen pals, but we’re safe here.”

A petite barmaid with wispy, dirty blonde hair approaches the table, setting a steaming bowl of stew before Aiden. “Me da says it’s on the house, master witcher,” she says as Aiden reaches for his purse, a comely pink flush spreading across her freckled face.

“Your father has my thanks, Brea, as do you.” The girl blushes deeper at that, ducking her head. “Might I get another bowl for my friend? I’ve the coin.”

“Me da says I’m to take no coin for you, master witcher, you’re our guest here. Be back with the stew in a flash.”

Lambert stares.

Aiden smiles, and somehow it seems a little softer, sadder. “Brea’s brother was one of those the wraiths slaughtered before I arrived. They didn’t have much coin, not enough for such an extensive job, but they were upfront from the start, and they kept me housed and well fed until the job was done. Didn’t get the warmest welcome from the whole village, but Keller—” he nods toward the barkeep “—and his family were always good to me.”

“Never seen anything like it.” The girl flits back beside the table, setting a thick, warm bowl of stew before Lambert with a quick nod before scurrying away again. He looked at Aiden appraisingly, slowly picking up his spoon. “Name’s Lambert,” he grunts. “Thanks for...you know.”

Aiden waves it off. “Eat.”

They do.

Conversation flows a little easier as they eat. They talk about the shit weather that brought Lambert to the inn, the ealdorman a few towns over that tried to stiff Lambert after he wiped out a cave full of endregas, their best hunts this year, the closest they came to dying this year. It’s been almost a year since he was last in Kaer Morhen, last around people who understood, who would have a real conversation with him, but it turns out Aiden’s surprisingly easy to talk to. He listens more than he speaks, watching Lambert with bright eyes through each story only to interject a thoughtful question here, a devastatingly witty quip there.

They’re on their third round of ale, courtesy of Aiden’s apparent heroism, their supper long finished, when Lambert leans forward on his elbows, fingertips lacing together. “Riddle me this, Cat,” he says slowly, watching the pretty face before him break into a grin, scarred eyebrow jutting upward. “If you’re just here so you have an alibi—and don’t think I forgot about that shady shit, by the way, I don’t know what the fuck you’re up to but I haven’t forgotten that—then why’d you come sit here with me? Yeah, yeah, two witchers are more memorable than one, I heard you, but not here, where they know you by name and keep the ale coming and treat you like a damn king. There’s a room full of people who’d vouch you were here even if you weren’t, seems to me. So why?”

Aiden stretches, hard lines of his body on languorous display. He looks relaxed, at ease. “Needed to assess the threat.” His voice is casual, but his golden eyes miss nothing. “You Wolves have a reputation as a prickly, self-righteous bunch—no, hold your protests, I assure you I know all about our reputation. I like to think we’re both more than the worst traits of our guilds, don’t you agree?”

Lambert nods, reluctant.

“There’s also,” Aiden continues, and although his body remains lax, long limbs still splayed out gracefully, his voice lowers carefully, “the fact that you want me. Smelled it on you the minute I walked in, strong enough to cut through your misapprehension.”

Lambert doesn’t deny it, just watches him, silent.

“It was flattering,” Aiden murmurs, leaning in, long fingers tracing patterns on the table between them. “Strong, handsome witcher who can’t keep his eyes off me? It’s a hard thing to resist. And denying myself has never been one of my strong suits.”

“I can believe that,” Lambert snorts. Aiden’s looking up at him prettily through hooded eyes, long, dark lashes, a quick tongue wetting his lip. And Lambert could deny himself, could walk away from this fascinating man who he doesn’t quite trust, doesn’t quite know but desperately wants to. “So what now?”

“Now I’m going to take advantage of my complimentary room upstairs. What you do is up to you, but I’d welcome your company.” He slips to his feet and fixes Lambert with a challenging smile. “You coming, Wolf? Or are you all bark?”

Lambert follows.

Maybe it’s not such a shit night after all.

#the witcher #the witcher 3 #tw3 #lambert x aiden #lambert #aiden #witcher fanfic #octinary #thank you so much for the prompt! this was fun! #this is the first time i’ve written for either of them #i hope you enjoy! #prompt fill #my fic #(also if anybody's interested in the smutty follow-up...i might be persuaded to write it 👀👀👀)

[losers-yurio]

Road Trip With the Crue

Mick x Reader 

the guys show up at your house with a weekend of fun planed 

i honestly have no idea what this is-

and also warning bc its probably shit

But The first issue arose when loud banging on the door brought your attention to the front of the house. “Okay okay I'm coming calm yourself!” so both Mick and you lazily made your way to the door,  it wasn't that unsurprising when you were met with the faces of your three idiotic friends. “Goddamnit, you three what part of ‘for the love of all that is holy please don't bother us this weekend’ did you not understand” although we had woken up a few hours prior, it was evident from his voice that Mick was still exhausted. Though you couldn't tell for sure if this was because he wanted to go back to bed or if the sudden appearance of his three band members had annoyed him, from prior experience you were almost certain that it was the second option you definitely understood why he was upset though, with all of the shows him and the guys had been doing the two of you hadn't really been able to spend much time together so this weekend was supposed to be catching up on all of the lost time. While on the one hand you absolutely adore Mick’s friends you were quite looking forward to your weekend together as well. “Well haven't heard why we’re here yet” Vince protested in an almost childlike manner.“Nope, not interested” stated in his usual monotone voice as he began to close the door, in response you reached your left arm out in front of him to stop the door from closing.  He gave me an eye roll but said nothing more “now what were you boys going on about?”  And so the guys (mostly Vince being the loudmouth that he is) told you about their plan which was as followed, the five of you were to leave at ten(which was horrible planning considering it was already nine) then stop at the nearest gas station for snack and drink essentials, from there you had a three-hour drive down to the amusement park. “No way, absolutely not” you looked over at mick who had a worried expression on his face,  “guys we just need a minute to pack if that's alright” the three men nodded as I shut the door. “What, why not?” he looked at you with confusion  “what happened to a nice quiet weekend at home?” “But when was the last time we went out for something other than a gig?” “I could say the same for staying home” “oh please Mick it could be fun!” “and if it isn't?” “ then I owe you big time” It wasn't long before we finished gathering what we needed for the trip and had packed it into the back of the van. While it was the band's van you really couldn't trust Vince, Nikki, or especially Tommy with the task of driving and Mick got to sit in the front because of his back issues. Tommy and Nikki were sitting together in the middle and Vince was in the very back with the luggage. Luckily the gas station wasn't that far from the house so we arrived in no time at all, the other three went inside to get the snacks which in hindsight was a terrible idea but hey they needed to get a bunch of moving around in before being cooped up. I had gotten out to refill the tank so we wouldn't have any issues on the road, which surprisingly didn't take very long so I had more time to talk with Mick.

“Are you really sure about this? We can just ditch now and walk home” there was a touch of amusement on his face as you looked at him “I'm sure, besides don't you think they'll just come and pester us at the house?” “we’ll just ignore them” you laughed and shook your head slightly Before I could say anything else the rest of the guys were hopping back into the van with a bunch of bags “for the lame-os,” Nikki said as he handed us two water bottles with a slight smile “I hope for your sake this isn't all you got for us bassist” Mick’s cold look had returned to his face “ um no of course not” I looked over to see a small smirk on Mick's face, what a man.

The trip was pretty smooth considering the party in attendance, with only 3 hours left I was honestly ready for the trip to be over. Both Nikki and Tommy were passed out, Vince was jamming quietly as to not wake the boys, upfront Mick had pulled out a book of his that he had been reading. At Least everything had been going well until the van sputtered to a stop. “Hey Y/N everything okay up there?”  “Yeah Vin I think so, well actually..” “what happened?” by now Mick had looked up from his book “ well we’re out of gas” “huh that's weird I thought we just got some” “yeah I thought so too” you reached around and nudged the two sleeping men “huh what” Tommy answered groggily, “I thought I had the two of you fill-up the tank” “ I certainly wasn't, I thought Nikki did,” he said in an accusatory tone “well I thought you did it” “oh for the love of- you know what it's fine since this is both of your faults both of you get to walk the three miles back to the gas station” “fine” “and no distractions!” “you know we can't promise anything!” Tommy called back “idiots” mumbled Mick and you smiled

After about twenty minutes Mick started shifting more in his seat and making small grunting noises “hey are you good?” “yeah just my back acting up again, do you know where we put the other bottle of pills?” “I think it was in the backpack” a quiet “on it!” came from the back as Vince tossed the bag to me “thanks Vin”. “ um Mick they aren't in here” “ah damn I knew I forgot something” “hey its okay ill look for a drug store as soon as we get to the hotel and we can look for some store-brand pain killers” “ah ok, I just wish the guys would come back already” “I'm sure they'll be back soon” which wasn't entirely a lie as the two of them turned up ten minutes later with a full gas can and Tommy with suspiciously red lips. “And what kind of fun did you two get into?” “oh you know the usual” Tommy replied with a smirk “okay jus- just get in the van, Mick’s having back issues” “ah sorry man if it helps we got candy” “ill except it”

And so we were off once more. Thankfully Mick was able to fall asleep so he was able to get relief even if it was for just a couple hours. By the time you reached the motel, it was already dark out so you got the guys checked in and rushed over to the pharmacy with Mick for painkillers which was difficult until the guy realized you genuinely needed them. Then on the way back to the hotel to rest up the two of you were walking through the parking lot when some guy started yelling ”Hey old man hearing the noise both Nikki and Vince emerged from their shared room. Seeing what was happening Nikki immediately Joined the fray “Hey man that's totally not cool” “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it ninnyhammer?” “listen I have no idea what that means and I'm sure it was bad but regardless you said some shit about my guitarist and we can't have that now can we”  you didn't see it coming but by the time you realized Nikki’s fist was already colliding with the guys face and he was being pulled to the ground. Immediately you rushed over to help tear them apart from each other. With the help of Vince, you managed to pull them apart “while I do appreciate the thought I would kill you if we got kicked out because we don't have anywhere else to go” The five of us ended up having a wonderful time at the park with no more incidents. In the morning we left bright and early much to the guy's dismay. Somewhere along the way, Vince had convinced me to let him drive and I promptly passed out for the rest of the trip. I awoke parked in our driveway with the guys talking “oh come on Mick, please? We’re still exhausted ``''Well that sounds like a you problem, not a me problem``'' what's the matter, guys?” “don't you dare ask them you know they'll say yes” “can we stay over for a few hours to catch up on some sleep?” “ of course you can, just don't cause any trouble” from your view Mick appeared to be rolling his eyes and the rest were high fiving. It was an odd bunch of people but they were your idiots and you wouldn't trade them for anything.

taglist: @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife​

#Motley Crue #motley crue x reader #mick mars #mick mars x reader #my writing

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

These Violent Delights Ch. 4

The Black Card

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Talk of murder, that’s pretty much it in this one. The next few chapters will have more warnings. 

Author’s Note: Smaller chapter than the last two, but it’s definitely needed to help progress the storyline. I do hope you guys enjoy this one!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

<< Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 5 >>

Elijah quickly walked into the conference room. "What do we have?" He asked as he looked over at the other officers in the room. 

He had gotten a call moments ago that he was needed down at the station asap. Without hesitating, he was there at the station in record time. All he knew was the information coming in was about Damon Salvatore. 

"We got word that Damon will be making a few calls today." One officer said, looking over at Elijah. "No doubt calling Rosa to confirm that she got the black card. "

"We've got a direct line to overhear the conversation, courtesy of Rebekah." Another officer added before handing Elijah a case file.

Elijah's eyes scanned the file. The only thing that was considered noteworthy was that Damon had already called Elena minutes before he arrived.  Closing the file, he tossed it on the nearest desk. 

"Alright, all ears in this room need to be open." He said as he addressed the room. "Whatever piece of information you think might be of use, write it down. If Damon is making this call to Rosa I want to know where she is in this city.  If I catch anyone that so much as yawns during this call, you'll have me to deal with."

A throat cleared, getting Elijah's attention. "Sir, he just made the call."

"Bring it up." Elijah said with a nod. 

The officer connected the call to the speakers in the room. The ringing played through the speakers, and it seemed as if everyone held their breath for a second. A moment later, the call connected. A distorted voice answered. 

"Are you fucking nuts, Damon?" The distorted voice asked, earning a chuckle from Damon. 

 "I take it you've picked up the kitten." His voice clear over the line. 

"Obviously. You know I don't mix business with personal affairs." The voice said, causing Elijah's eyebrow to rise.  "This is definitely crossing my line of mixing the two."

"Take note of that." Elijah said as he snapped his fingers, wanting someone to take down that as a note. If Rosa didn't entangle herself in personal affairs, there might not be a hit after all. At least Elijah was hopeful about that thought. "Rosa isn't happy with who is on the hit list." he noted. "She might actually have a heart."

"Come on, Rosa." Damon said, not missing a beat. "You know this type of kitten a lot more than anyone else. You can train it in your favor until you get it to Elena."

"You're missing the point-"

"I get the point, Rosa. I get how attached you used to be. But things changed from the last time we were all in the sandbox and I need this done."

That was enough for everyone in the room to know Rosa had known her target intimately. This hit wasn't just some random person that Damon needed to be handled. It was someone who they both knew. 

"Run a list of known associates to Damon." Elijah said, looking over at an officer. "Go far as back as you can. Including classmates. There's a connection in there somewhere."

"Don't expect me to do the works on this. I'm changing it to a drop and run."

The chuckle that came through the line from Damon was dark. "Just think of all the fun you'll have beforehand. You might hate dropping it off later but at least you'll enjoy it while you can. While dropping and running would be easier, you know you've been waiting a while for this."

"Fuck off, Damon."

"Has anyone ever found out what 'the works' meant?" Rebekah asked as she entered the room. 

"Still working on that." Elijah mumbled as he listened to the next part of the call.

"It seems I've struck a nerve."

"No shit. I've got half a mind to back out of this and return it to sender."

"But no one does it as good as you do. Come on, Rosa. You promised if I called, you'd answer. Plus it'd be a shame if I had to have a talk with V about this."

"I dare you Salvatore. It'd be an eye for an eye and there's only one of them that's currently a sitting duck. While a personal visit would be fun, I have friends in low places that would be willing to help a girl out."

"There it is." Elijah said with a small smirk. "Our list can be narrowed by anyone with a name starting with a V or even their nickname. That's where our ticket to Rosa will be."

"As much as Rosa has been a pain in my side since taking this position, I do enjoy her threats against the Salvatores." Rebekah said with a smirk pulling at her lips. "We'll need a list of anyone who has access to both Salvatore brothers."

Damon sighed. "Look, I want this taken care of, and you're the best I've got. It's a bad one to you, and I get that. But name your price, and I'd gladly pay it if you don't walk away from it. We don't need anyone else being involved."

There was a brief pause in the conversation. It was as if Rosa was debating on whether or not she wanted to do this. Both Elijah and Rebekah held their breath. They hoped it would be easier for them all if Rosa just opted out. 

"Triple the payment, upfront." The voice said a moment later. "And I'm cleared from your database."

"Done." 

"That is one hell of a payout." Elijah noted as he looked towards his sister. 

Rebekah nodded her head in agreement. "He's got enough to do just that."

"I'm serious, D. After this, I'm out. Our contract will be over and I expect you to find someone else."

"Deal. We won't discuss business at the dinner table anymore." 

Without another word from Rosa, the line went dead. 

A thought crossed Rebekah's mind as the call came to an end. "That payout is so she can completely disappear after she makes the hit."

"Looks like we'll just have to catch her before she does." Elijah said with a small smirk pulling at his lips.

_____

Adriana threw the phone across the room the moment she ended the call. She wanted nothing more than to strangle Damon for this black card. Damon knew all of her reasoning for why Adriana never wanted to mix business with personal dealings. And yet here she was. 

After seeing Elijah's name at the bottom of the tablet's screen, Adriana couldn't get herself to go to dinner. She couldn't face the girls knowing that Elijah was her intended target. She couldn't sit there and pretend that everything would be okay. That she wasn't having an internal panic attack because she was supposed to kill the only positive best friend she had. 

She hadn't even bothered to look at the complete file. The initial shock of it all forced her to shut down the tablet and put it away until now. She couldn't bring herself to look at any of the details just yet. Her heart wasn't ready for it. 

It wasn't ready to find the traces of her past inside of it. Or learn the new things Elijah had gone through while she was gone. But this was a part of the job that she usually would breeze through. And with every passing second, it was a reminder that she was about to cross a line. 

Part of her believed that she would already know a lot of the information contained in it. Even though it had been years since she last spent more than a few hours with Elijah, she still knew a lot of the details of their past.  And that alone is what made her the right person for the job, just as Damon mentioned. 

What she wasn't ready for at all were the plans Damon had forced on her. "The works" was a term that she and Damon used when Damon wanted Adriana to weasel her way into the target's life. Once she was in and they were least expecting, Adriana would make her kill. 

But this was Elijah Mikaelson. The very guy that she had known for the majority of her life. He was the one that could easily tell when there was something wrong with her. And now, she was going to have to put on a brave face if she went through with this. 

If

Now it was a matter if she could do it or not. She may have demanded triple the payment, but she didn't believe Damon would give it to her. But when Damon wanted something, he usually got it. What made it worse was Adriana never failed at her assignments. It's what made her the best on the market. 

Elijah Mikaelson was going to either break her streak or make it so she could disappear from her life as Rosa. Adriana just didn't know which one she wanted to go with yet. She knew from the moment she left home that her life as Adriana Vega was a distant memory. Her life as Rosa was about to end if she completed this job.  But it was the ghost of her past that was about to make or break everything. 

_____

"What happened at Dinner last night?" Bonnie asked as she handed Adriana a cup of coffee. 

Taking the cup, Adriana led her down the street. "I took a look at the travel arrangements after I left the bar last night." 

"And?" Bonnie asked as she walked right beside her. She brought the cup up to her lips, taking a drink. 

"I couldn't face the three of you after I found out who it was." She admitted. "This was never a life you were a part of-"

"That's bullshit." Bonnie said, cutting her off. "While we may not have known the life you were in, we were still a part of the same crowd."

Adriana's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. "Same crowd or not, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place when it comes to this hit. Damon crossed a line with this." Her words had barely been above a whisper. 

Bonnie sighed. "How close is this person?" 

"We were all in the sandbox together." Adriana said with a nod. "But I can't give you more than that." She shook her head. 

Bonnie nodded her head in understanding. "You obviously care for this person. I know this is going to be hard for you to take care of."

"Taking care of it is the easy part. It's getting my emotions in check that will be the hardest." Adriana's voice was emotionless as she spoke about it. 

"What happens if you don't go through with this?" Bonnie asked curiously. She probably shouldn't have asked, but she couldn't help it with how Adriana was looking at the moment. 

Adriana thought about her answer. All she could think about was Greta's voice in her mind at that moment. 

"You are not to fail." Greta said as she circled Adriana. 

Adriana stood tall as Greta took her steps around her. After all the training Greta had put her through, Adriana was the perfect killing machine. Everything Greta knew, she taught Adriana, and she made it better. 

"And if I fail?" Adriana asked the moment Greta was back in front of her. 

The woman took a few steps towards her until she was right in her face. "You may as well as turn that pistol on you before the buyer finds out. It's never pretty, Rosa. Cause once they get a hold of you, you're gonna wish you had done it yourself."

Sighing, Adriana brought the cup up to her lips and took a drink of the hot liquid. "It's either them or me. And I kind of like having the air in my lungs."

"Damon wouldn't-" Bonnie began, but Adriana stopped her. 

"This is a business." Adriana stopped in her tracks and looked over at Bonnie. "I knew what I was getting myself into the moment I left. Salvatore is no different from his father, and I've seen what is done to those who go against Damon's orders."

Adriana didn't miss the way Bonnie's eyes widened at her words. As much as Bonnie had been learning from Elena and Caroline, they were blind to what went on behind closed doors.  It is evident to Adriana that this wasn't the world Bonnie belonged in. 

"Are you going to go through with it?" Bonnie asked a moment later. 

Adriana shrugged. "We'll see how deep down the rabbit hole I go tonight."

_____

Marcel's eyes scanned the list of connections to Damon Salvatore that started with a V. The list still held a decent amount of people on it. Most of them had a record. While a part of the list was still locked away and a few others were six feet under, two names were sticking out to him the most. 

Shaking his head slightly, he sighed. The names were going to make things harder. Getting up from his seat and grabbing the paper, he headed over towards Rebekah and Elijah, who had been talking away about the case. 

"You guys might want to see this." He said as he approached them and held out the paper. 

Rebekah took the paper, and her eyes scanned the list. "Is this the known associates of Salvatore?"

"Yes." Marcel said with a nod. "Going back as far as the sandbox."

It was as her eyes landed on the same names Marcel had taken notice of that they widened. "That doesn't mean anything." 

Elijah took the list away from his sister as she spoke. He went through the list quickly, trying to figure out what they had been talking about. His heart dropped at the names. 

"We knew this." He said, shaking his head.  "Vega and Salvatore were always tied together."

"You heard Rosa, though." Marcel said, looking at Elijah. "Only one of them was a sitting duck."

"It might be time to go speak with them and see what they know." Rebekah said, placing her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Victor is the only one who is still out in the open, and he might just be the connection to Rosa we need."

Elijah sighed. "Adriana isn't going to like this."

“The Mikaelsons to come and question a Vega isn’t going to sit well with either of them.” Marcel added. 

“It might be better to give her a call as a heads up.” Rebekah said as she turned to grab her things.

Marcel grimaced. “She’ll still give us hell.”

Elijah shook his head. “Better to have before than after we get there.” He pulled his phone out and dialed her number. 

The phone rang a few times before Adriana answered. 

“Hello?”

“Adri, I hate to be the barer of bad news, but we are going to be heading over to speak with your father.” Elijah said as watched Marcel grab his things. 

“Is there a reason, Mikaelson?” Elijah hadn’t missed the venom in her words. 

“We believe he may be able to help us out in a case.” He wanted to give her as much information as possible without actually discussing the case. 

“What case? The same one you questioned Caroline for?”

“Yes.” He said with a nod, even though she couldn’t see it. “Just a couple questions. If you’d like someone to be there, we’ll wait.”

“If my father leaves in cuffs from the house after you are done asking your questions, you won’t like what comes next.”

A small smirk pulled at Elijah’s lips. “Is that a threat, Adri?”

Adriana’s chuckle came through the line before she hung up.

Always & Forever Tag:

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Stag Tag:  

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#The Originals #The Vampire Diaries #These Violent Delights #Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x OC #Elijah Mikaelson x Adriana Vega #Klaus Mikaelson #Marcel Gerard #Rebekah Mikaelson #Bonnie Bennet #Damon Salvatore #Elena Gilbert #Caroline Forbes #The Originals AU #AU Crime #Elijah Mikaelson fics #Elijah Mikaelson Fanfiction #Original Characters #TO #TVD

[undertaleimaginationland]

Oh my gosh I think I'm in love. (Swoons.) I swear your writing just gets better. Anywho, how about some sadness? What if the S/O suddenly got a bit depressed, didn't show much interest in training, just threw things at people who mentioned their scars or tattoos, and their sass seemed to take a major blow too? And when they got home, they went to the kitchen and started baking like crazy, and when the boys asked what was wrong, they told them that it was the day their mentor died? -Blue

You never fail to flatter me, Blue. Ah, and the ol’ angst trope. I like it! Let’s get started, shall we?

Underfell

Red-

You were sitting alone in the waterfall, your feet paddling in the waters, when your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling out the device, a text in all caps takes up majority of the screen:

Fishface: Wanna brawl dude?! I found this really cool battle ground by the core that we could throw hands @.

Your finger hovered over the screen hesitantly. You loved Undyne (platonically, of course), but now wasn’t really a good time. You sigh as you text her back:

You: Feeling under the weather. Can’t go.

Placing the phone back in your pocket, you bring your knees to your chest and silently sulk. A stone sits next to you and you pick it up, feeling at its smoothness. 

“Dude?! Is that the tattoo human?”

“I think so, bro!” 

You grit your teeth and cover your face. Why couldn’t people leave you alone? “Beat it…” You mumbled. You weren’t having it today.

The two monsters looked at you, confused. “What-”

“I SAID BEAT IT!” You barked, boomeranging the stone to where it hit both of the saps square in the faces. “GET OUT OF HERE!” You sprang up from your spot and the two monsters bolted.

You were about to chase after them, but some heavy presence weighed your soul down. You weren’t motivated. Your determination was low and you knew exactly why.

A lump caught in your throat as you dusted yourself off. You had to get home before someone sees you cry. You’d be damned if you had to deal with that.

You started to pick up the pace, tears streaming down your face. Why did the world hate you? Why were you here and not…them?

Your fast-paced strides got you a pretty good distance before you passed by one of Sans’ sentry stations where he was (as per usual) sleeping on the job. You made sure to make your steps quiet as you sneaked past him. You didn’t want him to worry.

Finally arriving home, your stomach growled. Maybe starving yourself wasn’t the best method of coping. And so, you fired up the stove and borrowed Edge’s cook book for the evening.

“…”

You didn’t know what came over you as you observed the minimal amount of counter space left. From lasagna to cupcakes, you had no idea what food you DIDN’T make. But one thing was for sure:

You were about to guiltlesly eat your heart out.

Suddenly, the door smacked open and in trotted your salivating bonefriend. “i…i came as soon as i smelt the grub.” His eyes are scanning over the endless buffet before him, and was he really sweating? “you didn’t plan on eating all of that food on your own, right doll?”

“I did,” You admitted flatly, leaning against the fridge. “This is all one serving for me.”

Sans blinked. “oh really, doll? i find that kinda hard to believe.” He chomps into a warm croissant and swoons. “geez doll, what’s the occasion?”

You turn away and toss an empty bag of flour into the trash. “Its, erm, a commemoration meal, I guess.” You gulp, the binds of all your secrets starting to unravel. “My… mentor passed away today. I…” You feel yourself sniffle. “I-I just-”

Red started to sweat more so than he usually does and he panics. Hell, everybody knows Red is shit at comforting criers. So naturally, he does the first thing he can think of.

You startle as a cupcake is mushed onto your face, your cheeks staining red from the icing. You stare at Red as if he’s just proclaimed that he was the damn queen of England. “Did…” You feel a smile tug at your lips. “Did you just-”

“sweeten up your day? yep, sure did, doll.” Sans swiped a bit of icing off your cheek and swiftly licked it up. “y’know, i don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but i have a cavity that could sure use some fillin’. care to do the job?”

You giggled as you wiped your tears away. “You dork.” You hugged him close, nuzzling into the floof of his jacket. “I’d love to.”

Red clutched onto you tightly.

“…”

“i bet you taste sweeter than that cupcake, sweetheart.” Red purred, making you stiffen up.

You instantly pushed him away. “Heel boy heel.”

“welp.” Red shrugged with a sly grin. “it was worth a try.”

Edge-

Thank god your training had turned you into the ultimate stealth master. You hopped from tree to tree as you heard your rampant friend and bonefriend call out for you.

“HEY NERD?! WHERE ARE YA’?” Undyne draws out a spear and grunts. “I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T COME OUT, I’LL RIP YOUR DAMN HEART OUT!”

Edge worriedly shuffles through a bush to find you. “S/O! THIS ISN’T FUNNY! COME OUT THIS INSTANT!” 

When he receives no response from you, he yells, “IF IT’S ABOUT THOSE MINUSCULE NOSY MONSTERS, DON’T WORRY. UNDYNE AND I HAVE DEALT WITH THEM APPROPRIATELY.”

You fidget. Somehow, that had unnerved you even further. 

Why were you hiding the trees right now? 

Well wasn’t it obvious? You screwed up.

After a group of monsters had pointed out the heart tattoo on your back, you had gone on a blind throwing frenzy. You had even managed to throw Undyne at the monsters. Like how???

And of course, once you had calmed down, you broke down right then and there, tears and all. You had absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the two people who meant the most to you. How do you come back from that?

As quietly as you can, you stealth your way out of the forest and back to the skelebros’ house, landing with a thud on a soft snow poof.

You ring your clothes of the wet snow as the house embraces you with a warm hug. Just as you’re about to go up to your room, you notice Edge’s cookbook is lying around. An idea springs in your mind and you smile.

The door practically breaks off it’s hinges as Edge burst through the door. His angry gaze falls on you elegantly garnishing a plate of lasagna and he recoils back. “YOU!”

You gulp as Edge backs you into the counter. “E-Edge?”

Just as you thing he’s about to yell your ear off, he quickly sweeps you off your feet, hugging you close. “DON’T YOU EVER MAKE ME WORRY LIKE THAT AGAIN, S/O. GOT IT!?” His edges are poking into you, but you honestly didn’t mind.

You buried your face into his scarf as you mumbled an ‘okay’.

“GOOD.” Edge tilts your head to meet his gaze. His cheekbones are dusted a light pink. “Y-YOU SCARED ME BACK THERE.”

Oh? “Oh,” You suddenly feel extremely guilty. “I-I’m sorry, Edgy. I panicked.”

“I COULD TELL.” Edge gently sets you down and runs his hand through your hair. “WHY WERE YOU UPSET, ANYWAYS? DID WE GO TOO HARD ON YOU?”

“N-no no! It’s not that.” You answered quickly. “I’m just a little…upset.”

Edge examined your plate of lasagna from afar, eyeing its every detail closely. “UPSET?” He never looked back towards you. “UPSET ABOUT WHAT?”

“It’s about my mentor, Edge. They died today.” Well, if you going to tell him, might as well be upfront about it.

Edge quickly turned towards you, his features shaken. He wasn’t quite sure how to react. “OH.”

“…”

Awkward silence.

“…”

“MAY WE EAT SOME PASTA TO COMMEMORATE THE NOBLEMEN’S LIFE? IT IS ONLY SUITABLE FOR SOMEONE AS GREAT AS THEM TO BE REMEMBERED IN SUCH AN HONORABLE WAY.”

Before you could answer, your stomach sounded with a loud growl. Really?

“U-uh, I guess that’s a yes.” You blushed.

You were glad you had such a kind bonefriend.

#sans #papyrus #uf sans #uf papyrus #underfell #ask #headcanon