#dig a grave to dig out a ghost

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 54

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

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Chapter 54

Lin Yan was still in a daze, with his fingers resting between his eyebrows. What happened just now? It was as if he had fallen into another world just then. His fingers still retained the cold touch of the ghost's skin. How could he be so bold as to leave behind the self-respect that he was dying to maintain? He couldn't help but clench his teeth and move a little further away from Xiao Yu.

The weather wasn't very clear when he went out in the morning. The cool wind suddenly picked up, and the smell of earth rushed toward his face as if it was going to rain. The buildings in the distance were like mirages existing in the void, faintly approaching, chasing him. The "memories" forgotten a hundred years ago were secretly dormant in the cracks of every blue brick in this ancient courtyard, waiting for him to approach.

A lot of people had gathered at the prize draw stand. The host was dressed like a scholar and wore a robe and a square scarf, carefully adjusting the microphone.

There are a few small shops by the roadside. The staff set up stalls at the entrance to sell various folk items, and there was also a place to change clothes. Rows of improved Hanfu and flags were hung on the shelves. Visitors can rent them to take pictures or simply wear them around the garden tour. The ancient meaning was abundant.

Lin Yan walked over to ask the price, and the peddler spoke in his local accent, stretched out two fingers, and said seriously, "Twenty taels of silver for the day!"

Even the young master, who had always prided himself on his composure, didn't hold back his laughter. Lin Yan rummaged through the clothes racks, picked out five outfits that were not too badly butchered by ancient costume dramas, and handed them out one by one: "Wear these for fun. It suits the scene."

The straight train was only worn with a long belt, and half an arm could be added at most. Their jeans will be exposed when they moved too much. The tourists were very happy to dress up and are busy taking pictures. Xiao Yu was fiddling with ghost masks and paper lanterns. Lin Yan was putting on his belt, and the ghost turned his head and said softly: "I remember these. They're for the Lantern Festival."

"Lanterns are lit from the eighth day to the eighteenth day. The first day is for test lanterns. The fourteenth day of the first lunar month is for divine lanterns, which are dedicated to offering sacrifices to ancestors. The fifteenth day is for human lanterns, to eliminate insects and ward off evil spirits. The last day is for ghost lanterns, which are placed on the grave. Wandering souls can use them to get out of the ghost world."

Lin Yan chose a lotus lantern and handed it to Xiao Yu: "Now they all rely on these gimmicks to make money. If they have the chance, they'll throw everything they can out there, calling it the revival of Chinese culture, and it's all a mess in the end."

Teasingly, he took two masks, the blue-faced evil spirit with fangs and an evil ghost, and gave him one: "Here, you look like this."

Yin Zhou squeezed out from the crowd to urge them: "Hurry up, both of you, it's about to start."

The host had adjusted the microphone, joking on stage, and lifted the red curtain with a swipe. The poster showed the prize listing. The runner-up prize was a commemorative coin with a picture of the whole ancient city printed on it. The fourth-level prize was a 50 yuan voucher. The third-level prize was a mobile phone. The second-level prize was a notebook, and the first-level prize was blank. A square box on the table in the center of the stage was wrapped in red silk and satin, deliberately leading tourists to guess what it was.

"Now, please look at the number in the lower right corner of your ticket. Mr. X, an investor in Jinyang Ancient City, will do the draw for us." The host was enthusiastic.

The runner-up and the fourth-level prize were announced in turn. Someone in the crowd shouted, "Yeah, it's me," from time to time. They won their prizes and went to the stage to accept the award with a smile. There were a lot of winners in these two categories, and it took a long time to announce the third-level prize. At that time, Lin Yan was already impatient and pushed Yin Zhou: "Let's go, let's go, there's nothing to see here."

Yin Zhou is confident: "Maybe I'll win something. It'll only take a moment."

"Come on, we've never won anything more expensive than a washbasin since we were young in draws and lottery tickets." Lin Yan muttered.

Soon the third and second-level prizes were over, and the audience focused on the red cloth box. The host made a point of making a story: "This time, we have carefully prepared the first-level prize. It's highly collectible and valuable." As he spoke, he took the note from the investor's hand and read out: "No. 141."

The audience looked down at their tickets. No one came up to claim it. Yin Zhou nudged Lin Yan with his elbow: "Hey, what number are you?"

Lin Yan glanced at it and exclaimed, "It's me!"

"Go quickly, see what it is." Satisfied, Yin Zhou rushed to the stage and waved his hand. While Lin Yan was on stage, he secretly flicked A-Che's forehead, "Alright."

The little fox shook his head: "Look, we foxes have the most powerful spells."

Lin Yan climbed up to the stage, shook hands with the investor first, and then uncovered the red silk under the expectant eyes of the crowd, revealing the exquisite brocade box underneath.

The box was slowly opened. Lin Yan's eyes widened all of a sudden, and he took out. . . a chicken that hadn't shed its feathers completely, its head hanging limply. Its blood hadn't been drained entirely, and some was dripping down its neck.

"A chicken?!" The audience was silent, and then the whispers turned into roars of laughter. The investor and the host blushed, looking for where their real prize went.

When Lin Yan walked off the stage with the chicken in a daze, Yin Zhou was smacking A-Che: "What's the matter with you? What are you doing with a chicken? Where's the original thing!?"

A-Che muttered aggrievedly: "The original thing wasn't good. Lin Yan definitely wouldn't like it, so I changed it!" After staring at the chicken and licking his lips, his eyes glowed, "There's nothing more delicious in this world than chicken. Let's eat this for lunch, okay?"

Yin Zhou was so angry that smoke could've been coming out of his nose. Lin Yan stared suspiciously at the chicken in his hand, then at Yin Zhou and the fox, who was making a fuss, and finally understood what had happened.

"Okay, okay, the chicken is also very good. Let's find a place to stew it." Lin Yan shoved the featherless chicken to the fox, "There are some variety meats and aged tofu over there. You guys wait and I'll buy some. I'm really hungry."

Several big pots were on the roadside stalls, and the pot lids were lifting with steam. Plastic bowls were filled with local delicacies which were convenient for tourists to satisfy their cravings while walking. Lin Yan ordered four servings and was waiting for the mutton to be cooked when the sky suddenly darkened. A commotion brewed in the crowd and bean-sized raindrops started crackling down. The tourists ran in all directions. People ran in front of it and the rain chased after them. The July day was just like a child's face; it changed at the drop of a hat. Lin Yan used his sleeve to block the rain. When he hurried back, everyone had already disappeared.

The stone brick road was covered with moss making it wet and slippery. The crowd headed towards the ancient city to avoid the rain. Lin Yan followed suit. He took out his phone to make a call but found that there was no signal at all.

The sound of bells in the distance echoed in the misty rain. The rain was very rapid and raging. After a while, his whole body was soaked, and his clothes were dripping wet. Many tourists used masks to block the rain, leaving only a pair of eyes to find their way through the mess. All kinds of ghosts and monsters passed by on the street, including tiger heads, snake demons, white-faced dolls, and earth immortals, all wearing similar straight trains and walking in a hurry so he couldn't recognize anyone.

Where did Yin Zhou and the others go?

As he drew closer to the dim ancient city, Lin Yan walked through the pagoda with five arches and stepped into it. Surrounded by rain and fog, the window papers of each house lit up a pale yellow light, like a city built in the void. He sighed in relief. There was a sudden thunder, and it rumbled above him. Lin Yan suddenly panicked. The fox's spell would be broken by the thunder. Where is the ghost he lost now?

After turning around a corner, then another corner, there was another pagoda in front of him. After stepping on it, he didn't walk very far before he noticed the people on the street gradually thinning out. Occasionally, a few women walked past him as if their feet were bound, staggering, striking lively poses, and holding up oil-paper umbrellas. Under their masks were faces from hundreds of years ago, ghost faces.

A thought came up for no reason, was this city a ghost town?

Paper lanterns lit up for no reason, and the light was dim. A peddler hurriedly closed his stall and carried his stretcher. Seeing Lin Yan stumbling around, he hurriedly greeted him: "Brother, don't wander around. Do you know where this place is?"

Lin Yan pulled him over and asked, "Have you seen four people, oh no, three people? One of them was a seven or eight-year-old boy who was busy taking shelter from the rain just now. We got separated."

"Or do you know where there's a tourist service center that can put out a broadcast?"

The peddler chuckled: "'People'? Who in this city is a 'person'? You must be joking, sit."

Two merchants with horses passed on the side of the road while walking and chatting, and Lin Yan overheard a few sentences: "This year, for some reason, the city was full of noise all day long. Some strange people came in early this morning, disturbing people's peace and quiet."

Lin Yan suddenly froze in place. He had supernatural eyes. He can see ghosts! Immediately closing his eyes, he saw silhouettes of beings walking in front of him. They were all greenish-black, and when they walked around, there was a long trail of green smoke behind them. A hundred years had passed, but this ancient city restored on the original site had never died. It survived in another space and another form and would live forever; the sound of a hunter's hawk, a new customer entering a teashop with a silent lute, a lady going up to the embroidery building and leaving a story of talented men behind.

"I went to the wrong place and came here by mistake. How can I get out?"

The peddler rolled his eyes and left carrying his load. A green-bearded Daoist came to meet him, holding a half-immortal yellow flag. He looked at Lin Yan carefully and said in surprise, "Young master, within seven days you will be part of a bloodbath. Return home quickly, and don’t go any further.”

"Good will be rewarded with good, and evil will be rewarded with evil. It's not that there is no retribution. The time has simply not come. Go away, sir, and put aside all the injustices of your previous life. This is the way to resolve it."

Lin Yan pushed him away, twisted the water from the hem of his garment, and hurriedly looked for the way out. He suddenly came to his senses when he heard about his previous life. Where was Xiao Yu? They were also separated like this before, in the distant time and realm of life and death. They thought they would never see each other again, but unexpectedly he found him after he walked alone on the lonely road to the underworld. . . What was so good about Lin Yan in that life that he was worthy of his undying love?

Who said that love is not the cause and effect of past lives. Whether it was love at first sight, childhood sweethearts, or long-term love, in the vast sea of people, why did he meet that one, why did he choose him?

The moss makes people's feet slippery, and the dark street scene and bleak rain and fog seem to float on the other side of the world. In the 23rd year of Chenghua, the scene at that time chased him, reminding him of his "previous life" he had forgotten in the void*.

*(T/N: 成化, the Chenghua era under the ninth Emperor Chenghua in the Ming Dynasty)

"Lin Yan!" Someone shouted suddenly. Xiao Yu held up a lantern and stood not far from the ancient street.

This scene was very familiar, and he suddenly recalled the day he ran away from home, and he frantically looked for him in front of the door of the strange movie theatre on the North Fourth Ring Road. The ghost stood there in such a panic, waiting for him.

Lin Yan rushed over in a hurry, still in shock: "There's something wrong here. I saw people from ancient times. They talked to me. . ."

Xiao Yu pulled him to the side of the road and said in a deep voice: "You went the wrong way. This ancient city is divided into two worlds, the human and the ghost world. The thunder probably drew the entrance out. Follow me."

     Turning into a spacious courtyard, the first thing he saw when he entered the door was an old screen wall engraved with Zhu Xi's family motto: "It is good to make preparations before it rains; don't wait for thirst before you dig a well.

*(T/N: Song Dynasty scholar who helped influence Neo-Confucianism)

Be frugal in your comforts for yourself; when a guest, do not prolong your stay.

If utensils are of good quality and clean, then pottery is better than gold or jade.

Drink and food should be simple, and well-prepared garden vegetables are better than precious delicacies."

Passing through a courtyard full of weeds, eight carved doors were wide open, showing a screen with gold letters on a black background, and complex golden peonies seemed to be thrown on people's faces. The two of them held hands and crossed the atrium. The four-sided courtyard wall encloses the courtyard like a well. When he looked up, he can see a square piece of sky with fine raindrops floating down. After passing through the paradise world, the sandalwood rafters were covered with murals, which had turned yellow due to day after day of sunlight.

Pushing open a double wooden door to the study, the ghost led them in, as if entering a land without people.

"Be careful of the threshold." Xiao Yu held his hand. Under his feet was an elm wooden threshold, nearly one foot high, which had been kicked and trampled many times, so it was damaged.

"Where are Yin Zhou and the others?" Lin Yan asked.

"They're all in the human world. You're the only one missing. We'll take shelter from the rain first, and then I'll take you out when the sky clears."

Lin Yan nodded, chose a black-painted chair against the wall, and sat down. He vigorously twisted the water from the hems of his clothes, raised his head to look around, and wondered: "Why did you enter a private house? Is the ghost owner of this household not here?"

"They're here." Xiao Yu said. Seeing that Lin Yan still didn't understand, he smiled bitterly, "They just don't remember. Don't worry about it."

The study room was spacious, with two black lacquered chairs placed against the wall at the entrance, a rosewood square table with celadon vases in the middle, and a large case facing the door. At the back was a pair of red sandalwood shelves displaying jade carvings and antiques from the previous dynasty. The four treasures of the writing room were all there. They had not been used for a long time, the ink dry in the ink slab. Rows of bookshelves behind were filled with precious and smoky yellow thread-bound books. The top row was "Four Books of Notes to Sentences," "Collected Commentaries on Elegies of Chu State," and "The Works," written by Zhu Xi, Feudal Ethics And Asceticism. Later, there was "The Analects," "Book of Poetry," and "Mencius."

The two vermilion window lattices of the study room were faded by the sun in the west, and because of the rain, they were dim, with a thin ray of skylight giving off a sense of desolation.

Lin Yan suddenly felt that the room looked familiar, so he walked over to check everything. His fingers ran across the surface of the porcelain, the coloured decorative bowls with blue and white flowers and dotted ink; blue like the sky after rain, pink like a butterfly flying through flowers. Going to the bookshelf again, he moved a few volumes away and found there was another compartment inside. He reached in and took out a volume of "In Search of the Supernatural." He fumbled inside and found a "The Peony Pavilion" volume covered in dust*. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He cried out in panic, "Xiao Yu, I've seen this before!"

*(T/N: In Search of the Supernatural [搜神记] compilation of legends about spirits, ghosts and other supernatural phenomena, written and compiled by Gan Bao in the Jin dynasty; The Peony Pavilion [牡丹亭] play by Tang Xianzu in the Ming Dynasty)

Looking back, he met a pair of burning eyes. The volume fell to the ground, and it turned to one page in particular. Liu Mengmei picked up a portrait of Du Liniang in the garden. Fascinated by the beautiful woman to the point of exhuming her body, Du Liniang came back from the dead in her tomb. An inscription said: "Just as Du Liniang, they can be called lovers. Love does not arise, but love is deep. The living can die, and the dead can live. Those who live but cannot die, and those who die but cannot live are not the result of love."

"I knew you a long time ago. . ." He broke off, raising his arms around Xiao Yu's neck, gazing into his eyes, his throat burning with thirst. A thread of a departed soul faintly attached to the pages of the ancient book penetrated his heart and lungs. Xiao Yu pushed him away and said lightly: "You don't know me. You're Lin Yan. I only want you to be Lin Yan in this life."

"I know who I am." Lin Yan wrapped himself around his body, suddenly breathing heavily, unable to control himself, and faintly uttered a sentence: "Xiao Lang. . ."

The ghost's face was shocked, and he let his kisses fall on his neck and slide to his chest. There was no one around, only two ancient souls, dressed in bright clothes that were evolved into foreign shapes by TV dramas, mingled together in an era of extinction of human desires. Love and hatred were kept secret and turned into a volume of evil books hidden deep in the bookshelf. By concealing it, it became more inflated. Lin Yan suddenly pushed Xiao Yu to the ground as if in revenge and knelt down on him between his legs, hugging him fiercely as though he intended to crush bones.

Before meeting him, the love he encountered was calm and indifferent. He just wanted to find a suitable person to live out his whole life with. When he fell in love with him, his life was full of twists and turns, turbulent waves, and a lot of people might die if they weren't careful.

Who said love has nothing to do with the long-standing sins of previous lives?

It's fine to be sincere for a minute, but why are his eyes always looking at something other than him? Inexplicable hatred and jealousy, hatred right to the bone, is it bad for him? If he wants to love, he will accompany him in love; if he wants to leave, he can't even say a word to keep him. He travelled thousands of miles to find a lover from his previous life and even fulfill the marriage contract together. How could the ghost have put him in a position, treating him like this?

"You want me." He stared at Xiao Yu angrily, "Don't you want to?"

"I can't." Xiao Yu turned his face away.

"You don't dare?"

The ghost was suddenly touched in a sore spot. He ruthlessly yanked open his skirt, took off the straight skirt embroidered with straight lapels. He lifted the hem of Lin Yan's T-shirt and kissed his ab muscles, moving upwards. He sucked hard, and kissed his lips all of a sudden. His lust was like a karmic fire that burned both of them to ashes. Neither of them was rational. They tossed and turned in the room full of thread-bound ancient books. They were too eager, knocking down a wall of books, the pages fluttering down in all directions. There was nowhere to escape.

Their audience was full of the words of the saints, and the onlookers found it unbearable to watch them.

"Does it hurt?" Just an inch deep, seeing Lin Yan biting his lip, Xiao Yu stopped and kissed him gently.

"Do it." Lin Yan wrapped his legs around his waist, sweating from the pain, and hugged him stubbornly, "Harder."

"Are you stupid? Do you want to die?"

"You the one who's fucking stupid. Why do you think about someone who has been dead for so many years?" Lin Yan endured the discomfort of his body being stretched inch by inch and asked him through gritted teeth: "Who am I? Who do you think I am? "

The ghost kissed his forehead, wet with cold sweat: "Lin Yan, my Lin Yan."

The hard object moved up and down in his body. Lin Yan uncontrollably swallowed the groan in his throat with his fist and greedily looked at Xiao Yu's emotional expression. His two long brows knit into a knot every time he sank into his depths, his heavy breathing uncontrollable.

The more pleasure he felt, the more eager and restless he became. He pulled Xiao Yu to make him lie on his body, hungrily thirsting for his saliva. He hooked the soft tongue into his mouth, trying not to make it painful, and untied his hair with one hand, letting it down his bare back, stroking it with the palm of his hand.

In this strange ancient city and strange room, he and his past suddenly overlapped, like he had been given a hallucinogenic drug. He didn't know why and he wouldn't ask. The lust was overwhelming, reality and falsehood collided, the ancient and the modern intertwined, and he felt at ease to bear what should belong to him. More debauched than anyone else, more depraved than anyone else, what's not to like? Xiao Yu owes him!

He was leaving and never coming back. What he was looking for was the skeleton of a dead lover. The anger of a thousand suns, unwillingness and jealousy have all turned into a forbidden love, just like the perverted and paranoid love they had when they first met. He bit Xiao Yu's shoulder as if punishing him and twisted his hip slightly: "I want more. It's not enough, not enough. . ."

The violent impact and friction almost made him pass out. His throat was so hoarse that he couldn't scream. He lay on the floor, tilting his head to catch his breath, the yellowed pages brushing his cheeks, the black letters in the vertical layout touching his eyes: "Love does not arise, but love is deep. The living can die, and the dead can live. Those who live but cannot die, and those who die but cannot live are not the result of love."

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #bl novel #chinese novel #english translation #chinese bl #danmei #danmei novel #yaoi #yaoi novel

[sharpiedoodleee]

everyday i think about the possibility that Roach couldve been more then a bestie to Ghost and everyday i weep

#like even if they werent gay #using ur homies jaw to dig yourself out of his grave #would really fuck you up #but the possibility of gay makes me So Sad #like simon fr died that day #any vulnerability he couldve had died #n he truly became The Ghost but like at what cost #rip roach tho #hes a homie i miss him #sharpie doodles #call of duty fanart #call of duty #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #ghostroach #horrible shipname #cod ghost #cod roach #roach fanart

[s0fter-sin]

sometimes i think about how wild a mw2 movie would be if they just dropped soapghost right in the middle with no warning or marketing. like imagine it being beat for beat the exact same, it’s your typical military action movie, promoted as just another military action movie then after they get to the safe house, ghost has to patch up soap and he’s still out of it, overwhelmed by the betrayal and everything he’s seen and ghost needs to ground him and keep him in the present, to remind him that he’s alive and safe so he kisses him and they have sex. the tantrums and the rants and the “ReAl sOLdiErS aRen’t liKe ThAt”, god i can taste it and it’s delicious

#theres never any talk of a relationship or sexuality crisis its just this moment of humanity and comfort to bring soap back to himself #real any time you need me by thirteenbullets vibes #theyre not the type of men to have something as normal as a relationship #theyre just everything to each other they know that and its enough #ghost can be such a complex character if you let him #this guy whos rejected his humanity has buried himself and become a ghost #willingly digging himself out of the grave to stop soap from digging his own #like how are there not more explicitly homoerotic military movies that actually pull the trigger (heh) on the homo part of the eroticism #you know how if movies have even a hint of queerness they wring it out for every drop of respresentation they can get #theres a hundred articles and its mentioned in every interview and it all journalists ask those actors #imagine it being a complete secret and everyone expects just a typical action movie #then boom battle buddy gay sex #like if it were a male and fenale character you would see that scene coming a mile away so why cant it happen with two guys #just doing it is the only way of normalising it #i still see men saying they act like brothers which is denial so strong even egypt is impressed #but imagine the general public expecting this manly man military movie then getting hit with the alone mission flirting and denying it #then getting smacked in the face with tender wound care and grounding love making initiated by the edgelord they were using as a self inser #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #we’re a team. ghost team

[frazzledazzlin]

shoutout to the dream i had of me finding out my childhood school crush getting a boyfriend and me and him becoming friends again after i told him about my gf too

#it could be great #scared out of my mind to talk to any of those people again though esp after i ghosted one of them after i came out to him helpppp #digging my own grave

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

[141wh0re]

Just Imagine

So, you're the new recruit for 141, the only girl, right. Right.

The guys all give you shit for your size in comparison to them, have a little laugh if you struggle through some training but ultimately will always help you with extra practice, and they always give you good natured teasing with sexist jokes. It never bothers you, you know they respect you and they find you to be a valuable asset to the team, and they trust in your skills.

But if a cocksure little fuckhead thinks they can spout off the same jokes at you, and any of the 141 guys hear about it? Oh, all bets off. They're stringin the bastard halfway up the flagpole, Ghost glaring daggers into them, making damn sure he knows he fucked up. Price is immediately filing the paperwork in preparation for what will, ultimately, end with the bastard being buried 6ft deep - after Ghost makes him dig his own grave - or, he's pissed himself from the promise of his undoing from the stares your brothers in arms give him.

"Get back in the kitchen. You don't belong in the army, slag." the bastard sneers at you as you're coming out of the weaponry.

You don't even have a chance to fire back at him and stand your ground, because here comes Ghost, shovel in hand, promise of death glimmering in his eyes with Soap and Gaz in tow.

The men crowd behind you, Ghost looming at your back, burning holes into the bastard's face, Gaz and Soap flanking either side of you.

"You wanna run that by us again, mate?" Gaz challenges.

It's as if the bastard suddenly has the fear of God instilled in him as his eyes widen, his mouth fumbling over incoherent syllables, and his hands raise in a placating manner.

"Go on. Ye had the balls tae say it tae 'er. Say it tae us." Soap chimes in, taking a menacing step towards the poor bastard trembling in his boots.

Poor bastard turns into a blubbering mess, desperately trying to backtrack over his previous statement.

You stand there with a smug smirk plastered on your lips, arms crossed over the front of your tac vest.

As soon as the guys send him on his merry way, Ghost turns to you, skull mask obstructing everything but those beautiful brown eyes.

"No one gets to bully you, unless it's us." He says sternly.

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gaz cod #ghost cod #kyle gaz garrick #cod mw x reader #simon riley cod #call of duty #captain price #cod modern warfare #tf 141 x reader #poly tf141 #tf 141

[thekeystothebasement]

REQUEST!! Head empty just thinking about throwing the 141 guys on their back to ride the living soul out of them till they're babbling non sense+ including König and graves these boys are to die for🤤🤎🤎🤎

A/N: I'm slowly making my way through the requests, This one took me a bit longer than I expected. It was quite challenging writing similar prompts for different characters without sounding repetitive.I went hard on Captain Price and Ghost's parts but I sort of felt like the quality went down after that :(

Let me know what ya'll think!

Check out my post: WIPS and Requests if you're interested in what I have planned or curious about the rules I set for requests.

Captain Price:

You've been needy all day and Price hasn't been giving you the attention you've been craving.

He was constantly pacing around the base, in meetings, and never having an opportunity to be with you until you found one.

After wandering around the base like a lost puppy looking for its owner, you found Price at his office, sitting in his big leather chair.

You could hear him sigh out of frustration, rubbing his temple, you could see the exhaustion on his face.

Normally you would leave him alone or even convince him to rest but you were so fucking needy.

The ache between your legs only seems to grow by the second.

Seeing him lean back into his leather chair, legs spread and letting out a sigh of frustration you finally decided to pounce.

"Daddy" you whimpered as you bounced on his dick. You were riding him eagerly, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Normally Price would be so rough with you, pounding you against his desk and calling you a whore, his little slut. But Price couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Any words coming from his mouth were slurred as he looked at you with hooded eyelids.

"I'm a good girl, right?" you asked as you kept your relentless pace. "I'm taking care of daddy." you giggled as you felt him throb inside of you. You rocked your hips against him as you leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"C'mon daddy, let it out." you whimpered. You gently nipped at his ear earning a throaty moan from him. "Let your baby take care of you. Be a good boy for me."

You let out a gasp at his weak attempt to thrust up into you, his nails leaving marks on your hips.

"Princess..." he whimpered

"Yes, sir?" you were smiling down at him, feeling him tense under you before shuddering as his cum shoots deep into you. His body goes limp on the leather chair as you continue to ride him, not satisfied with the amount of cum he gave you.

"Giving up already?" you pouted. You could feel his semen run down your burning thighs, leaving you even hornier.

"C'mon old man, your princess wants more."

Ghost:

Ghost never liked to relinquish control.

Whenever you tried to take the reigns you were always put in your place

On your back with your legs over his shoulder as he pounded into you, desperately trying to breed you.

Despite how good he made you feel, you always had the fantasy to be on top.

You wanted Ghost to be the one left quivering and begging.

You wanted to be the one in control. You wanted to be the one to be able to hold's Ghost pleasure over his head.

You wanted Ghost to beg you to let him cum, which is exactly what your ears are hearing.

"Fucking hell, don't do this to me, baby..." Simon pleaded. The rope tied around his wrist wouldn't budge no matter how hard Simon's hands tried to reach out to your body. He couldn't remember how many times you kept bringing him to the edge of pleasure, riding his cock and squeezing your warm wet cunt around him, to only pull away when you feel the familiar throb of his cock ready to burst his semen inside you.

"C'mon lieutenant..." you whispered into his ear as your fingernail traveled from his neck down to his chest. "I know you can beg better than that. How much do you want to cum inside this wet pussy." You teased.

You can see how red his tip was, practically ready to blow his load inside you with the slightest touch. His breathing was labored, his chest rapidly rising and falling. The rope tied around his ankles kept him from bucking his hips into you, as you hovered over him. Your pussy is just a few mere centimeters from his cock.

"c'mon princess..." he choked out, completely frustrated in the predicament he woke up to. "Please ride me..."

You couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you looked down at Simon. As soon as those words left his mouth you bounced down onto his cock earning a whimper from the man below you.

"As you wish lieutenant."

Soap:

You and Soap had made a bet after a heated argument in front of the 141 task force.

Somehow the topic landed on Sex

Soap had begun to brag that he could last hours to the point he'd outlast his partner which earned a snort from you.

All eyes landed on you at your reaction, Soap didn't take it lightly and thus started your mini argument

The argument ended when you and Soap agreed to have sex with each and see who would last the longest.

The group was astounded at the interaction and decided to stay at the bar longer than they planned as they watched you and Soap leave.

They did not want to be around you both as the bet took place.

"Johnny..." you panted as you looked down at the male before you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he roughly panted below you. "Admit it. You can't outlast me. My pussy is about to put you to sleep."

Soap could only whimper as you continued to bounce on his cock, vulgar wet sounds emitted by your actions. A ring of white can be seen in the base of his cock, the ring getting thicker and thicker as you continued to ride him. His hips would lazily try to meet yours, missing the rhythm you had set.

Your giggles echoed in his room as you felt his body stiffen, knowing his semen was about to be freed from their chamber. You could hear him babble nonsense as your cunt squeezed around his cock, squeezing the last bit of cum he had. Hissing as he nutted in you.

"you're a fucking minx..." he panted out. His hand tapped the inside of your cum covered thighs.

"Tapping out, Johnny?"

Gaz:

You and Gaz were the youngest members of the task force.

Because of this, you two got along well.

A little too well for everybody's comfort

It was no secret you two were fooling around with each other

Every member has their own experience catching you two in the act, mortifying all who were involved

But that never stopped you and Gaz from doing it again

The bathroom, kitchen, and even the sparring room were not safe from your lewd acts

Hell, you could imagine Price's shouting already

You were riding Gaz on Price's favorite couch, the worn-out fabric couch by the coffee table

"You got issues Gaz,"

Gaz was leaning back on the couch, 'coincidentally' the very spot Price sits on every day. He watched as you did all the work. Watching as your breasts jiggled with every bounce on his dick. He leaned further into the couch as you continued to belittle him.

"You like it when we get caught," you teased. "Pervert."

Gaz felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, you were breathtaking, you looked so beautiful riding him. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you raised your hips and fell down on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Hurry up and cum Gaz," you gasped out. His fingers tightened around your hips as he edged closer and closer to the height of his pleasure. "Don't want the Captain to walk in and see me riding his favorite sergeant?"

"...fuck..."Gaz moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined your words. "...baby"

"Sick-fuck..." you teased. You quicked your pace, moving your hips in a circular manner. "You want the Captain to see me milk your cum from your balls?"

"shit..oh god..." Gaz cried out. You felt his body stiffen as he chanted 'yes baby' He could feel your walls squeezing around him, desperately trying to milk him.

As you feel his cum dribble down your thigh, your next set of words had him running through a list of emotions, his limp dick twitching inside of you despite his consciousness telling him how wrong it was to be getting hard in the situation he found himself in.

"Hi, Captain. Enjoying the show?"

Konig:

Konig's eyes followed you everywhere and you noticed for quite a bit of time.

You never really held a conversation with the tall male before.

He was too anxious to talk to you but whenever you approached him and try to converse with him, he could only reply with one-word responses.

Despite the lack of conversations, you enjoyed his presence.

You would be writing in your journal across from him and he would sketch on his sketchpad.

You've seen his sketches before, he was quite skilled and you rained compliments on him.

He would awkwardly laugh at your compliments, his mask hiding the big smile and blush on his cheeks.

Konig's body would soon stiffen under your next question, his hand harshly gripping at his sketchpad, and his pencil snapped in the other.

"Have you ever done nude art?"

You already knew the outcome when you suggested he draw you nude.

The devious smile on your face as you led him to your room and rid yourself of your clothes.

You admired Konig's self-control when he actually did try to sketch you nude but you had other plans.

"Mesmerize every square inch of my body." you panted. Konig was sprawled on the floor as you used his body for your complete and utter pleasure. His sniper hood was discarded in the room as his forearm covered his eyes, tears streaming down his face from the pleasure of your tight walls squeezing his overstimulated cock.

Whimpers and breathy moans escaped his throat and released into the room. Wet sounds resonated in the room as you bounced on his cock and scratched and clung to his chest.

"I'll remember..." Konig breathed out. "I'll remember...Scheiß...your curves..and...tight pussy"

You laughed at his weak attempt to reply to you, his sentence broken each time your ass landed on his balls earning whimpers and curses from the male. You could feel Konig's dick throb inside of you and his moans becoming higher and more frequent.

"Cum inside of me..."You begged. "and then you'll be able to draw me full of your semen."

Graves:

As soon as you got a glimpse of his eyes, you knew you were going to fuck him into submission

The way his eyes would shined when he stepped into the dinner and noticed a cute young waitress looking at him with a soft smile

He'd sit in a booth and pray you'll be his waitress for the night

He'd subtly flirt with you but you knew what you wanted and aggressively flirted right back at him

His eyes would follow your figure as you'd walk away, his eyes focusing on your ass

When you returned with his food you sat in the chair in front of him and kept him company as he ate his meal

Eventually, your boss yelled at you to get back to work, leaving Graves smirking at the small pout on your face.

You would lean down to his ear, his eyes gazing at your cleavage, your hand squeezing his shoulder as you whispered into his ear, "I get off at 10. If you'll wait for me, I'll make it worth your while."

You stood back up, dusting your skirt and sending him a wink before getting back to work

Despite the car having tinted windows, the rocking of the car and the smudged handprints on the windows gave away what was happening inside.

Phillip was sprawled on the car seat that was set all the way down, you were sat on his clothed dick, rocking your wet folds against the wet fabric of his briefs. His briefs stained with his cum and your arousal.

“C’mon baby….fuck,” Graves whined. “Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You gave him false hope as you lifted your hips up and pulled down his briefs. You continued to rock your hips, your wet folds spreading your arousal on his red tip. You felt him shudder under your teasing, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands tried to grip the leather seats.

“Please stop teasing me, baby.” He begged.

You grinned at him, lining yourself up with his dick before you slowly eased him inside of you. Your eyes closed shut momentarily before the were snapped open, feeling Grave shoot his cum inside of you.

Your laughter filled the car as you began to bounce on his dick, whimpers and moans escaping from Graves.

“Was my pussy that good,” you questioned. “Fucking nutted just by being inside of me….Pathetic”

Graves couldn’t help but enjoy the way you degraded him, feeling your warm walls hug his cock, and the way yours eyes looked down at him. Your eyes looking at him as if he was a toy for your pleasure. Disregarding how sensitive he was from all your teasing, not caring how many times you made him cum inside of his briefs, his cum and your arousal mixed with each other, wet sounds emitted each time you lowered your hips all the way till his balls were tightly pressed against your ass.

“Shit….gonna fuck myself on your cock till the sunrise…”you said as you felt him throb inside of you once again.

“ if you can even last that long…”

#cod imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #cod smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x reader smut #john soap mactavish #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #konig smut #konig x reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves smut

[lundenloves]

fatherhood

This happened. *Holding a fist to my mouth, biting on them knuckles.* This happened as a combination result of an awful sleeping schedule and unemployment. Banged this out in an hour. Don’t tell me it’s obvious, i’ll fold. Happy reading, kids.

↳ no warnings | 1.1k | f!reader

part two | dad!simon masterlist

the way his eyes make me want to howl in tears while digging my own grave isn’t actually canon. sigh.

Ghost stood still for thirty-two seconds, standing in near open fire on enemy view. One that was only guarded by a particularly large tree, saving his life when Soap had dragged him down to cover by his tac vest. “What the fuck, Lt.” He’d shout over the fire, his brows tightened in a frown toward his lieutenant. “Eh?”

Ignoring the sergeant, Ghost would continue the rest of the assault half-heartedly. Which was disconcerting to say the least, and so, so unlike him. Only mumbling over the comms when required, saving the already minimal chit-chat and failing to hear the multiple requests for backup from Gaz.

Johnny had been bold that night. Hitting his lieutenant on the shoulder and fucking grabbing his mask, turning Ghost’s head toward him. Well, for the mere two seconds Simon had allowed for it before pushing him off. “What’s wrong with you, Lt? For fuck sake. You’re scaring me ae.”

“Focus, Sergeant.”

“Naw. You focus, sir.” He placed a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, before standing up and checking round the corner. “Let’s move, yeah?”

Simon’s jaw tightened under his mask, begrudgingly following Soap. Comms fucking yapping on in his ear, and he barked back at them while gesturing Johnny keep walking. It wasn’t ideal, yet so poignant to see him so different.

You.

You had gone into labour with Simon’s baby. The issue was, he had found out before going out on the current assault. His military mind raced with every possible travesty to do with childbirth. He feared you weren’t going to make it without him for unknown reasons, he felt it.

Soap didn’t know. No one knew.

He was good at that, keeping things to himself. Especially the things that ate at him — never did they ever come out aside from when Johnny forced them. Even then it was a battle.

So when they arrived back to base in safety, all trudging back to a meeting room. Gathering thoughts and sharing collected information, it was odd that Simon hadn’t shown. Not just odd, but almost scandalous as Johnny would say.

No messages. Nothing.

He hadn’t heard from you and in his head that meant fucking death at this rate. The balaclava came off for a split second, looking at himself in the lens of some sunglasses sat on a shelf adjacent to him. The stubble he had left was itchy against the fabric, smoothing his hand across his jaw he put his head into his hands.

Although, the balaclava was back on in under a minute for the subconscious feeling of vulnerability creeping in. And he was right to feel so when the door to his office had been knocked on, so light that he knew it was Soap before even opening the door.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, standing in front of his desk with arms crossed. Johnny entered and shut the door behind him, his hands flat on the surface.

“Lt. Are you alright, sir?” The way his eyes narrowed was enough to make Simon’s roll.

“Just grand.”

Although the tough facade was almost dropped when his phone had pinged from the desk. Jaw tensing at the sound, he was sure his fingers had twitched at the need to reach behind himself for it. Soap stared pointedly at the way the heel of his boot tapped against the floor, his fingers now looped in the pockets of his tac vest.

“Check it then.” The Scot nodded toward the desk.

“Do you need anything?” Simon asked. The dead stare he gave was piercing, shifting his feet to lean forward from the desk a little.

Johnny pointed to the desk, “It’s ringing, sir.”

For a moment, Simon did consider kicking Johnny out but figured. Fuck it. Reaching for the phone behind him to find it were a FaceTime from you, his own masked face staring back at him. This was probably it. The worst or best news of his life only a swipe away. With fucking Johnny MacTavish only feet away from whatever reaction Simon would undoubtedly suppress.

And well, it wasn’t so bad, Soap knew you. He knew you well. Well enough to the point where throughout your pregnancy he had been labelled ‘uncle Johnny’ by yourself much to Simon's demise

So when he swiped to answer, and was virtually face-to-face with a newborn it was a… chaotic feeling in his stomach to say the least. One that dropped to the floor when the baby had cried loud, a strangled babble that turned into a scream.

“Shh, shh,” Your voice mumbled over the line, zero energy throughout but just enough for Simon. “Daddy is there. Look baby, he’s here.” You had framed both yourself and the tiny baby on your chest, voice wavering with the last few words.

Johnny couldn’t save himself from the steps he took forward, planting a hard grip on Simon’s shoulder and shaking him slightly in glee. “Congratulations, mate.”

Simon took the balaclava off, his hair strewn across his forehead and spiking in every which way. He had no idea what to say, holding the fabric close to his chest and staring in awe.

“She’s beautiful, Si.” Was all you had said, obviously exhausted but confirming the gender for the first time.

Simon felt his knees buckle at the thought of having a little girl in the world, the familiar feeling of worry was completely wiped. The image of the little person enough to change his whole mindset, no longer was he scared but ready.

Ready to give his little girl whatever she wanted.

He was still lost for words when the call had ended. A promise of another at the same time tomorrow was the only thing that kept him upright, pulling the balaclava back on and looking to Johnny who cracked a grin.

“You’re a fuckin’ dad, Lt.”

He nodded, rubbing his eyes before holding the door open for the two of them. “Can I tell ‘em?” Soap continued, gesturing toward the group they were walking to.

“If you must.” Simon let a small smile take his face, content in the fact it was well hidden.

“Oi!” He’d called out, jogging ahead of his lieutenant and slamming his hands on the information table, sending many papers flying off edges. “Lt has stepped into fatherhood.”

The men erupted into deep voiced cheers just to wind their lieutenant up, all shaking his shoulders and drawing the attention of the whole fucking camp toward them.

It was the first time he had felt himself smile properly in months. His ears tinted a deep red although not visible, neck likewise.

Fatherhood it was.

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

taglist? fill out this form.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2

[laxxarian]

Graves Are A Gateway

After everything the Amity Park went through, they all became more used to Danny Phantom as Danny Fenton.

Now they're all just accustomed and adapted to the ghost fights and even advised Danny how to fight without destruction in the town while Danny's parents would go around building some ghost repellent in others home in case an actual evil ghost would come and also built a training room for Danny to practice his powers without destroying anything.

They discovered and enhanced Danny's powers and one of them seemed to intrigue Sam.

A power to go to a far place by using Danny's grave as his teleporter and they could build at least three graves for him at max.

And Sam suggested to build one in Gotham since Sam usually visits Gotham because of charity and all that and also in Metropolis since the hero there could help Danny if anything went wrong.

Sam doesn't know about Batman since she's more focused on the gothic themes.

The third one would be at his parents backyard so that Danny could go home quickly.

And so, it was decided.

One in Gotham.

One in Metropolis.

And one in Fenton Works.

)-(

One day, Sam went to Gotham and invited Danny and Tucker to test out the grave she built a few months back and the trio plans to meet at Wayne Enterprises. Sadly, Tucker can't go with Danny, not because he was busy, but because the grave only works for the owner which is Danny. Graves are a personal thing.

So Tucker took a plane instead and Danny went to his grave. But as he came out of his grave, he saw two men who looked like a thief, and the two were tied up by the people who were in costumes.

)-(

Robin (Damien) was right behind Danny's grave and saw the whole thing.

A ghost coming out of his half-dugged grave.

)-(

Before Danny came, Batman, Nightwing and Robin were on patrol. Nightwing is there to catch up.

And the three just saw a grave digger so they went and easily apprehended the criminals.

Nightwing read the tombstone for whose grave that they were to dig up, it was Danny Fenton's and he died quite young. Close to Damien's age.

Nightwing was mad and questioned the criminals while Batman called for the police and stuff while Robin was just right behind the grave when he saw the ghost boy coming out.

#danny phantom #crossover #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #batfam #nightwing #robin #grave as a teleporter

[glitchfiles]

get smart. [ljn]

pairing ⋆ bf!jeno x reader

word count ⋆ 1.8k+

warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!, soft -> hard dom!jeno, desk sex, degradation, begging, nipple play, hair-pulling, spanking, finger-sucking, facial, …

note ⋆ i got new glasses and thought of this... nothing else to say...

“god, why did i get these?” you sigh, pushing your new glasses up your nose bridge as you scrutinise your appearance in the mirror. 

“what’s the matter, baby?” jeno interrupts your little pity party by lacing his arms around your waist.

“what do you think?” he takes a moment to evaluate your new look.

“they look… okay.” is all he says, with a shrug. 

“just okay?” you raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied by his lukewarm answer. he may as well have told you that you look like shit. “they make me look like a secretary.”

“i guess…” he starts but soon realises that he’s made a very grave mistake.

“you’re not supposed to agree!” you try to nudge his arms off, but he tightens his hold.

“but like in a good way, though!” he rushes to calm you down, the struggle quickly stops when he drops his head closer to your ear, “like a sexy, hot one?”

“nice save.” you roll your eyes, sulking with your crossing your arms.

“c’mon, if you were my secretary, i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.” his voice drops an octave as he squeezes you closer. the warmth of his embrace and his breath against your neck has heat creeping over you, but you still attempt to act cold with him.

“i’d bend you over my desk every fucking day.” his lips ghost your earlobe before laying a kiss on your jaw. he looks up into your eyes through the mirror, eyes dark with lust, and coos into your ear, “should i show you how pretty i think they look on you?” 

you nod your head, fighting back a smile; he starts laying soft kisses along your neck, hands coming up to grope over your body. they slither under your oversized shirt, cupping your bare tits.

“take it off for me,” he removes your glasses, holding them as you tug your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your panties until he carefully places them back on your face. “so sexy,” he groans. the sight of you has his tongue swiping across his lower lip, hands trailing up from your curves to wrap around your body again. 

he begins to knead at your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples teasingly, making you mewl. your head lolls back against him, and he takes the opportunity to graze his teeth against your neck, drawing more sounds out of you. the feeling of him nipping at your neck combined with him playing with your chest has you reeling.

“turn around for me, baby.” you turn to face him, your eyes lock for a second, and then his lips smash against yours. instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in deeper as his tongue slides over yours. 

his hips cant forward as he lets out a moan into your mouth, growing bulge grinding against you. he pulls away, biting at your lower lip. the hazy expression on your face makes him smirk, dazed and waiting for what he does next. 

“feel what you do to me,” his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, digging into your hip as he presses his centre further into you. he presses his lips against yours again but only briefly, criminally so, but you can’t complain as he brings a hand between your thighs. a finger glides over your core, jeno lets out a chuckle as your hips jerk forward impatiently. 

“baby, please.” you huff as he withdraws his hand.

“isn’t it ‘sir’ to you?” jeno teases, while pushing your glasses up your nose mockingly.

“i’m not letting you roleplay being my boss, jeno.” you scoff at your ridiculous boyfriend. “just shut up and fuck me, you perv.” you whine, rushing to take matters into your own hands, haphazardly working at the drawstring of his sweats. 

“since when did you tell me what to do?” he tuts, swatting your hands away, “you want it? then go ahead, bend over and beg for it.” he nods his head in the direction of his desk to the left of him.

“thought you said you’d bend me over it.” you challenge him, butterflies fill your stomach as his eyes narrow, making you feel small as they bore into you. 

jeno could be the sweetest man on earth if you behaved, but you weren’t quite in the mood for that today; if you wanted to get nasty, he was more than happy to do so.

your breath catches in your throat as his hand approaches it, delicately wrapping around.

the sight of his jaw clenching almost makes your heart beat out of your chest. you feel yourself become light-headed as the web of veins on his upper body becomes more prominent as he tries to hold himself back a little longer; the menacing aura emanating from his makes your knees grow weak. your teeth sink into your lower lip, and you can’t stop your thighs from pressing together.

“and here i was trying to be nice, got some new glasses and you think you’re clever now.” he chuckles, but his expression hardens as his hand slips to the back of your head and firmly seizes hold of your hair. a whimper slips out of your lips as he cranes your head back. 

"don't get smart with me, slut." he spits out before dragging you to the other side of the room with ease.

he no-so-gently guides you to stand in front of his desk; he forces you to arch for him by digging his thumbs into your lower back. your forearms come up to support your weight as he lays himself over you, caging you between his body and the table.

“if i tell you to bend over, you fucking do it. understand?” his nose brushes against your cheek as he snarls into your ear, leaving it there as he waits for a response that doesn’t come. “i asked if you understand, slut.” he punctuates the sentence with a slap against your ass. 

“fuck! yes!” your head droops as you yelp.

“wasn’t so hard, was it?” he stands up straight.

“no,” you reply instantly this time, hoping your obedience will grant you mercy; you think maybe you’re in the clear as he rips your panties down your legs, leaving them to hang at your knees - not caring whether you kick them off or not, which you do. but it doesn’t; he slaps you again, making you gasp out. his hand smooths over the stinging skin, then moves between your legs, fingers spreading your lips open.

“like it when i boss you around, huh? dirty girl…” digits ghost along your slit to be pleasantly greeted by sticky arousal - his roughness evidently having had quite the effect on you; this wasn’t even the half of it, you knew that well.

he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock, thrusting up to brush it against your clit. your hips keen back in need.

“tell me how bad you want it.” jeno groans, pushing his hips forward as your own comeback, coating his cock with your wetness. 

“please, i’ll be so good for you.” your mouth runs on its own. the feeling of him between your folds drives you towards the verge of insanity. “need it so bad, please fill me all the way up.”

there’s no hiding the way he twitches at the sound of your pleas; as much as he wanted to torment you further as punishment for your bratty behaviour, he needed you just as much. he quickly pushes into you, burrowing himself deep despite how tightly your walls tense around the thick intrusion.

“thank you,” you whine as you feel his balls press against the backs of your thighs.

nails dig into your hips as he rears back and jerks into you; your eyes screw shut as you struggle to adjust to his size. 

“sucking me in so deep, baby.” he muses, spreading your ass cheeks apart to watch the way your cunt grips around him with each drag intently. “love getting split open by this big dick, yeah?”

“god, i love it! i love your cock so fucking much, please don’t stop.” you start meeting his thrusts, reaching a hand back, desperately trying to pull him in harder. he catches your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“such a greedy slut,” he slows down, grinding his cock into you even deeper and making your mouth fall wide open as he brushes against a spot that makes you see stars. you have no time to recover before he starts hammering into you; the room fills with the sound of choked moans, skin against skin and the slick sound of him stretching your cunt. 

his free hand skims over your cheek before he inserts his middle and index fingers into your mouth. you can’t help but swirl your tongue around them, he grunts at the feeling of it, strengthening his grasp on your wrist.

“yes, yes, oh shit! right there, baby!” your voice comes out garbled as you drool over his fingers, wet strings dripping off your chin and landing on the wood below. 

“gripping me so tight, gonna cum? fuck- feels so good.” he bounces you on his on and off of his cock like you’re a toy, using your arm as leverage. you can only ball your hands into fists, nails cutting into your palms, as he pummels you closer and closer to release.

“‘s too much, i-i-” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out, back arching painfully as your legs tremble beneath you as you gush all over his cock. he can only manage a few more thrusts, your warm, convulsing walls doing their best to coax his load out of him, but he has other plans. 

just as you feel yourself about to crumble flat onto the desk, jeno sharply takes ahold of your hair once again, bringing you to kneel on the floor. long, spit-covered fingers wrap around his cum-soaked cock, tugging swiftly at it in front of your face. his grip on your locks tightens as his head falls forward.

“oh f-uck,” he shudders, desperately chasing release. “look at me, that’s it.” 

you lock eyes with him, batting your eyelashes up at him expectantly. his rising moans become contagious - you can’t help but mirror them. the moment your mouth falls open, tongue poking out, and you begin to bounce on your knees in anticipation is when he loses it. 

“gonna cum, gonna-” he can’t look anywhere but your face as thick ropes of cum land on it. most of the fluid lands on your brand-new spectacles, just as he wanted.

“look even prettier with my cum all over your glasses.” he breathes heavily while wringing the last few drops of cum out of his cock, before slapping it against your cheek, smearing the gooey strings over your lips. 

“i hope you know how to clean cum off glasses well.” the realisation of how gross what you had just let him do was hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“don’t worry baby, i’m an expert.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. reminding you that he too wore glasses at one point in his life…

“of course, you are… freak.” you shudder thinking about the experiences that brought about such expertise.

★ thanks for reading! i have another fic done and coming soon!! in the mean time, feedback and requests in my inbox would be greatly appreciated <;3

© glitchfiles

#jeno smut #jeno hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #📂 ..\ .◜◡◝

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 53

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

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Chapter 53

Merchants in Shanxi originated in the early Ming Dynasty and reached their peak in the Qing Dynasty. Taiyuan Province ruled five prefectures and 20 counties in the Ming Dynasty, including present-day Xinzhou, Shanxi, Yangquan and Luliang. There are still many compound remains, some of which are still in use. Lin Yan intended to bring Xiao Yu there. It was best to go where this may have all started. If not, at least he could find some impression of the old days in the deep courtyard of the brick and black tiles. Despite the 3,000 historical materials, they can only rely on the ghost's sporadic memories.

It was 8 o'clock in the evening when they arrived. The lights glowed in the summer night, the streets were full of traffic, and the food stalls next to the train station emitted the sound of roasting meat, which made these people, who had spent four days in the wilderness, unable to resist secretly salivating.

Finally, back in modern society, Lin Yan heaved a sigh of relief. Yin Zhou looked around the neon-flashing neighborhood in vain and sighed: "Buildings! Finally, we see a building with more than five floors! It's so foreign." He rushed up to pat Lin Yan's shoulder, "Tonight, we deserve to treat ourselves, I've thought about it. We stay at the Hilton and soak in the spa. You can treat us. Don't try and avoid it."

Lin Yan clutched his wallet and gritted his teeth.

When they were at the hotel's front desk, they ran into another difficulty. They hadn’t made a reservation in advance. When they arrived, the triple and single rooms were full, leaving only a standard room. Yin Zhou and A-Yan had already received their room cards and went up to their room to rest. A-Che insisted on staying with Xiao Yu. The lobby was glorious. The fox saw everything as new and fresh and ran to the fountain to fish for goldfish to play with. Lin Yan dared not look at Xiao Yu, and carefully said: "You take A-Che, and I'll get another room."

The front desk clerk checked the information on the computer and, from time to time, curiously looked at the two men with children out of the corner of his eye. His gaze moved across Xiao Yu's face, which made Lin Yan inexplicably upset, but he didn't dare to show it.

Xiao Yu was silent for a while and said let's stay together. I don't need to sleep at all. Besides, we're always together, I'm used to it. Lin Yan's palms were sweaty holding the signature pen. Hearing Xiao Yu's words, he breathed a sigh of relief.

There were two beds. A-Che spread his arms and legs to occupy one of them, and Lin Yan slept on the other. Xiao Yu stared at the street scene in a daze. There was no night in the city. Behind the heavy curtains was a little bit of neon all over the street. It was a nest of red and green stars. Every time Lin Yan woke up, he would see Xiao Yu standing by the window in the same posture. He would whisper at him to go to sleep and the ghost would lightly shake his head. He didn't know how many times he woke up but when he opened his eyes again, the sky was already pale.

Xiao Yu's face remained the same. He had turned into a ghost, and all the feelings of fatigue and hunger left him like a stone, a thing drifting without roots and ground. Mortal contentment and happiness were also irrelevant to him.

He wished he could kiss those thin lips again and coax him to smile, but the ghost's eyes were staring into the distant void, and he had no time for him.

The self-service breakfast for two hundred and eighty people was extremely rich, but when A-Che got involved, the rest became errand runners. They weren't able to eat well at all. The little fox was all over the place, eyes bolting around at everything. They couldn't deny him the cakes, snack meat, sausages, and eggs. He didn't dare order Xiao Yu around. He only commanded Lin Yan and the others to run around and get food for him. Yin Zhou finally took a leisurely sip of soup and said sadly and indignantly that foxes should only eat raw meat. But A-Che's ears were very sharp, and he rubbed his belly proudly: "Don't you know where all the tributes you leave at your ancestors' graves go?"

"When the people leave, they will all serve our fox family. Big pieces of pork meat, salted fish, sausage and ham, steamed buns stuffed with meat, all delicious." A-Che shook his head, revealing a pair of pointed ears, "I was bored when I was a child. Sometimes I would turn into a person and come down the mountain to wander around. Grandfather didn’t know. If he heard about it, he would definitely beat me.”

An old couple at the next table couldn't help laughing out loud when they heard an eight-year-old talking about his childhood.

Lin Yan took a stack of travel brochures from the hotel's front desk, wrote down each of the addresses of the merchants' compound, and organized the schedule while A-Che followed suit. He couldn't read, so he only sorted through the pictures and complained when he saw they were all dark courtyards. In spite of Lin Yan's objection, he grabbed it and flipped through it, suddenly pointing to one of the pages and getting excited: "I want to go here!"

He was referring to a colourful promotional photo of an amusement park.

"No." Lin Yan snatched the booklet, "We won't be staying here for a few days. We have to hurry up and get to business."

When the fox heard this, he pursed his mouth and was about to cry.

"Hey, my brother will take you to eat six different flavours of meat sauce and listen to folk music." Lin Yan coaxed him in a good voice, "Your brother Yu is leaving soon. He doesn't have much time to play with you."

The tears in A-Che's eyes grew bigger as if they were about to fall at any moment. All of them took turns comforting him. Xiao Yu patted A-Che's head. He read the booklet carefully and said to Lin Yan: "It's okay. Take him there. The ancient city of Shanxi behind here looks familiar."

It turned out to be the opening ceremony of the restored ancient city relics garden. The promotional slogan said that the ticket price was 50% off. Not only were there various Ming and Qing buildings, special snacks and a carnival were stationed there during the summer vacation for children to have fun. At that time, a stage was set up in the garden to perform shadow puppetry and Pursuit*. A few small photos showed a square and formidable, massive courtyard with umber-black and vermillion tiles. The courtyard walls were extremely high, and two smooth blue stone drums were at the door. The ground shone with the waning light and shadows of the passing clouds. The time chosen to take the pictures was excellent. The porcelain blue sky was permeated with light pink. The branches everywhere stretched out into the ice pattern of Ru ware. The eaves were the most mysterious place. Black-clothed assassins hid under the cracks of the tiles. That was the old China in distant memories.

*(T/N: 1972 Hong Kong film)

Suddenly touched, Lin Yan nodded and followed. The little fox was so happy that he was about to jump up and spilled the sweet corn soup all over Yin Zhou all at once.

"Little menace." Yin Zhou cursed.

There was a tourist bus at the entrance of the hotel to pick up and drop off tourists. When they arrived at 8:00 am, the sky was slightly cloudy. The air was cool and the weather was great for sightseeing.

The restoration of the ruins, along with the modern repairs, was very grand. Plenty of cars were parked outside of the garden. Groups of children were being led by adults, holding balloons. Once A-Che saw them, he wanted to buy one. He couldn't wait to drag Xiao Yu over to the booth, staring at the paper-mâché kites. The shadow puppets, masked figures and lantern almost made his mouth water. He grabbed a few of each. He also fell in love with the blue cotton candy that was bigger than his head. Lin Yan rushed over to save the day, stuffed a few red notes into Xiao Yu's pocket, and said: "A-Che likes you. You show him around. Do you even recognize this money?"

"Yeah." Xiao Yu took the change from the vendor. The ghost's gloomy expression cleared up a bit with a playful child beside him, and he smiled at Lin Yan, "You come too. I can't handle him by myself."

Lin Yan put his hands in his pockets, feeling a little lost.

"What?"

"It's nothing. I just miss you." Lin Yan lowered his head and said. The music around them was blaring, and his voice was very low, but the ghost still heard it, and his expression was slightly shaken.

A-Che didn't notice the embarrassment between the two of them, so he took Xiao Yu's finger and pointed at the Ferris wheel: "I want to go on that."

Xiao Yu turned back to gesture, but Lin Yan was taken aback. It was a small glass box in which couples in love sat for fun, staring at each other for hours, overlooking the city scenery. He was so embarrassed that he wanted nothing more than to escape the situation. He quickly diverted the fox's attention, casually pointing to the right: "That's no fun. Let's go over there to play."

Surprisingly, 'other there' turned out to be a haunted house. On the promotional poster, there was a pale woman with long hair covering her face. It was like a midnight murder special, everything looked like it was out of Sadako.

Before he had time to regret it, A-Che had already changed his mind, holding both their hands and pulling them towards it.

The fox demon brazenly said that he was never afraid of ghosts and rushed up the pitch-black steps. After walking a few steps, the door closed, and they were surrounded by endless darkness. There were vents on the floor near their feet, gusts of wind sending chills up their bodies if they stood there too long.

A white shadow floated past them from the corner. It was a staff member pretending to be a ghost. Lin Yan bit his lower lip and told himself that it was all fake. A cold hand reached out and swiped at his ankle. He had to cover his mouth quickly, almost screaming.

Someone behind him was patting him on the shoulder, and his body went numb. Looking at the joyful couples walking up ahead, Lin Yan wished he could chop off the hand that had pointed them to this place.

The thick darkness blocked his vision; all he could see was Xiao Yu's back in front of him. He was wearing modern clothes, and the T-shirt was slightly small and taut on his body. He could vaguely see the well-proportioned, strong muscle lines, wide shoulders and narrow hips. A section of blueish-white neck was exposed behind long, tied-up hair.

As he was in a trance, a faint blue light was cast on both sides of the walkway. A head of black hair hung down in front of them. Her white skirt was fluttering. Sadako appeared from nowhere. Her hair was blown by the wind from the floor grates, and it was blowing coldly on Lin Yan's face.

"Xiao-Xiao Yu." He leaped out and grabbed the ghost's arm. He said in shock, "Don't go too fast."

"Are you afraid of this?"

Lin Yan's face turned blue, and he stammered: "I was frightened by this movie when I was a child. If I had known it was Sadako. . . I-I wouldn't have come in."

Xiao Yu changed positions with him, let Lin Yan walk a little ahead of him and turned his shoulders sideways, carefully protecting him. When he got close, he made contact, and their fingers touched. Lin Yan's palms were cold and sweaty, not much warmer than the ghost's.

In this man-made strange environment, the gloomy and depressing walkway, the winding maze that seemed to be impossible to navigate, the darkness feeds the imagination, and the imagination breeds demons. His ears were filled with the ghostly sighs of female charm, and behind every narrow corner, were hidden female ghosts. They were even hanging upside down on the ceiling. Their dead faces were blue, green and blackened. He accidentally bumped into a cold white dress, hair reminiscent of something unclean, like a clump of black hair tangled in the sewer.

He couldn't wait for this torment to end.

He was suddenly unable to hold out anymore. He grabbed the ghost's hand in the dark. Xiao Yu froze for a moment. He cupped Lin Yan's hand in his palm and clasped it tightly. Lin Yan turned around and put his arms around his waist, and the two embraced.

Time seemed to stop in this safe space, in the arms of his beloved, where the wind and rain can't invade. Scholars who deal with darkness and corpses all day long also get short of breath. Tired of being a hero, he became a young child. Heroes are short of breath, children are full of love. He sought refuge in a real ghost in a room full of fake ghosts.

"I want you, I want you, Xiao Yu, I really. . ." He ruthlessly bit the ghost's shoulder with his teeth, "I beg you, please don't leave me. . ."

The second half of the sentence wasn't actually spoken. It couldn't be uttered.

Xiao Yu gently stroked his back: "It's okay. Listen, let's go."

The two people finally found the exit after half dragging, half hugging each other. The sky was pouring down, and the little fox had jumped to the exit to wait for them. Seeing both of their abnormal expressions, he clapped his hands happily and laughed.

"You two really suck. You're afraid of ghosts, so shameless."

Seeing the cuteness of the child, passers-by couldn't help but stop and laugh.

If Lin Yan hadn't rushed over with a gesture of beating him up, the little guy's fox tail would have been proudly exposed.

Xiao Yu caught up with Lin Yan and grabbed his wrist. Lin Yan turned his head and looked at the other, so nervous that neither could speak.

"Lin Yan, I. . ."

"Pretend I didn't say anything. I was frightened. It was nonsense." Lin Yan interrupted him, striding forward.

After spending a whole morning in the amusement park, A-Che had played long enough. He had yelled and walked enough and Xiao Yu was carrying him on his back to go get ice cream. Lin Yan followed him, holding a bunch of his prizes in his hand. They had played pinball machines and knocked off the monkey king's head to win. They ate half of a candy man, then popcorn, and they got some glazed beads in a bag that was close to overflowing.

The little guy soon yelled that he was hungry again and went straight through the amusement park to the back exit. A long and secluded ancient road led directly to the ruins of the ancient city. There was an old-fashioned teahouse on the side of the road, with an elm threshold, a carved screen wall, and a newly pasted couplet reading, "A grasp of mundane affairs is genuine knowledge; an understanding of worldly wisdom is true learning." The three ancient houses were connected, and at the end, there was a pavilion where A-Yan and Yin Zhou were sitting and drinking tea, waiting for them.

There was a small table next to the pavilion and an antique blue and white porcelain vase filled with scrolls. The flowers in the courtyard were in full bloom, and the lilacs and clove branches grew densely, giving off a faint fragrance of grass and trees. On the other side of the pavilion was an artificial lake. A small bridge was built over the surface of the water. The wind blew the green lotus leaves and collectively rolled out white waves. Daffodils and sweet peas grew on the shore, and willow tree branches hung straight over the water. A string of small silver-blue butterflies hung upside down from the trees.

The three of them sat down. The waiter in the shop was dressed up in ancient costumes and quickly brought three bowls of herbal tea, and also gave them some herbal jelly powder that was included with their admission tickets. They mixed in some honey and ate it to relieve the summer heat.

"I asked. Behind us are the ruins of the ancient city. You may not be able to finish your shopping this afternoon. A stage will be set up at two o'clock for a shadow play, so you guys can go straight there after lunch and wait."

"Us?" Seeing Yin Zhou and A-Yan standing up and about to leave, Lin Yan wondered, "Why are you two leaving?"

Yin Zhou pointed to the table: "We took on the great effort of sitting on these stools and waited for you for three hours. We've eaten everything we could. The shopkeeper thought we were holding the table and I don't know how many times he rolled his eyes. The backup troops have finally arrived, so we're going to stroll around and you can do whatever you want."

"That's right." Yin Zhou winked at A-Che, "Come here, and I'll tell you what's delicious."

The fox's eyes rolled: "No, I'm going to eat everything I can."

"Tsk, I've got something to ask you." Yin Zhou couldn't stop himself from picking him up, "Animals are animals, and they look good in the zoo. Take them out of the zoo, and they aren't very majestic anymore."

The waiter brought a pot of aged bamboo leaves in a blue-and-white porcelain bottle, which looked strangely familiar. A-Yan greeted: "Try this. It's a local specialty, but you can't drink too much. There's a strong aftertaste, and it's easy to get drunk. I-I got dizzy for a while. "

The three of them moved faster than rabbits. Xiao Yu and Lin Yan sat face to face, looking at the lotus pond under Langyuan, not knowing what to say*.

*(T/N: 阆苑, Langyuan paradise, home of the immortals in verse and legends)

In the distance, a faint mist revealed the roof of the old city, tile by tile. There was a row of bright red lanterns and the noise of tourists and the music of the amusement park seemed far away. Time had stagnated under the slanting corner of the pavilion. A hundred years of time, that wine, that person, the passage of time in a disciplined existence.

The fine porcelain cup filled a glass of wine, tilting its neck to pour it out. It was crisp and refreshing, with a lingering aftertaste.

"It's not bad. It's hot. Do you want to try it?" Lin Yan smiled, poured another cup, and handed it to Xiao Yu. The ghost didn't refuse. He brought the glass to his lips and sipped it. Counting that as a drink, he pushed the glass back on the table.

His heart beat suddenly and violently.

After drinking this half of the remnant wine, I intend to drink half of your remnant wine, but I don't know if my groom agrees with me. . .

In a half-conscious state, Lin Yan picked up the cup, sipped at the place where he had sipped, and raised his eyes. A fox's eyes were not as attractive as his, and he stared at Xiao Yu slantingly. This ancient pavilion and the warm wine seemed to be cursed, an ancient and mysterious contract slowly woke up under Langyuan and jade ornaments, walking towards the deep house compound and the tall and wide walls, hiding at the door, waiting for them.

No one can escape the natural disasters that add to human calamities. Love was that natural disaster that led to calamity.

He rolled up his snow-white cuffs, wide and big sleeves, embroidered a light pink spring peach, a bit of femininity concealed under his tough exterior, deliberately leaving it for him to see. He warmed the jug of wine carefully and held it for him.

"You're busy with family affairs. All the stores won't let anyone leave. I can't personally send this rich playboy to the capital for the test. I will bid farewell to you and wish you a beautiful return."

"Lin Yan?" Xiao Yu frowned, "What's wrong with you?"

He still didn't realize it. He was tipsy. He raised his hand to caress his face, eyebrows, the corners of his eyes, and chin. . . People around were already giving sideways glances, watching two young men flirting in public. Lin Yan only felt as if he had a nightmare, looking at his face with fascination: "This journey will take several months. I'll miss you every day. Don't forget to send letters."

Xiao Yu held down his hand, putting it forcibly on the table, and took the glass away: "Don't drink this."

"Leave me alone. I dare to say this when I'm drunk." He stared at Xiao Yu stubbornly with infinite resentment, "At least I'm better than you. You never dared to."

Xiao Yu was not in the same space as him. He suddenly opened his eyes wide in astonishment. Was the person in front of him Lin Yan?

The little fox, A-Che, bounced over, holding a string of strawberry candied gourds wrapped in transparent sugar shells in his hand. He stuck it out under Lin Yan's nose: "This is delicious."

He turned to look at Lin Yan, then at Xiao Yu, and asked in surprise, "What are you two talking about? Why are you sweating?"

It felt like his soul left his body in fright. His whole body turned cold. Lin Yan suddenly came back to his senses and stared blankly at his palm.

Yin Zhou and A-Yan also rushed back. They grabbed the untouched herbal tea in front of Lin Yan and drank it to quench their thirst. They pointed to a place where a crowd had gathered in front of them: "There's a draw happening based on your ticket number. Should we go take a look?"

Lin Yan was too lazy to move. Yin Zhou dragged him up: "Let's go. You can eat later."

"There are so many people in the garden. It's strange for a draw. However you look at it, it looks like the old women queuing up to buy eggs in the opposite supermarket."

Yin Zhou said disdainfully: "Even if it is a basket of eggs, we've earned it. Hurry up. Maybe you'll save a few cents later. Grandpa Mao said we must treasure the RMB notes!" He said as he pushed Lin Yan out. He looked behind him and secretly gave A-Che a hint: "Are you sure about this?"

A-Che nodded.

"Okay, I'll trust you once. Your elder brother Lin Yan is in a bad mood. Let's coax him. You have to act badly. So, hurry up and throw yourself in the toilet."

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #bl novel #chinese novel #english translation #chinese bl #danmei #danmei novel #yaoi #yaoi novel

[yanderenightmare]

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, dubcon, f!reader, asshole Hero Deku

Just thinking about Deku’s fangirl.

How lucky you felt when he took you home after you’d asked for his autograph in a bar – thinking about the expectations you had, how many times you’d imagined Hero Deku singing sweet praises in your ear as he made sweet love to you oh-so-softly – and thinking about how hard you choked on your spit when you understood just how far away those fantasies were from the truth as he fucks you like you’re shooting a hardcore porn-video.

His hand presses down hard on your face, mushing your head halfway into the white hotel pillow while his other hand fists the band of your skirt to keep you up in a pretty slope as he pounds your puffy cunt only in harsh slaps – hips clapping your ass as he uses your skirt to pull you back to meet the sharp thrusts as though you’re but a means to an end to make him cum.

Oh, but you’d been Deku’s number-one fan for years, and you’d been so giddy and excited as he’d paid for the hotel in the reception, feeling so lucky and honored, unable to fathom how any of it was even happening. Biting your lip with shy eyes blinking sheepishly, thinking of how sweet and gentle he would be in bed – so, so, so surprised when he had you pushed flat against the elevator wall with two of his fingers hooked on your tongue to make you yelp out a moan while his other hand found your cunt and squeezed the mound as though staking a claim.

You don’t really enjoy it when it’s rough – it scares you, to say the least – but this is the number-one hero, and you’re not so confident to protest when you feel you should be grateful that he’s at all touching you – even though it feels like he’s running your stomach through.

Looking over your shoulder, you can spot tattoos you’ve never seen on screen, the tribal kind that you’d expect to see only on gang members and otherwise other types of bad guys you’d not want touching you at all. He’s also wearing chains, the slim silver kind douchebags wear and compare. He’s even got fat rings on his fingers, digging into your skin where he pressures down on your face with his thumb hooked in your cheek to keep you singing mewls for him while he swings into you from behind harder and harder each time – grinning when watching how you grip the sheets in whitened knuckles as your whole body jumps on every impact.

He tips you over after a while, but missionary had never felt so threatening as he immediately locks your throat in a fist – his lips ghosting your parted ones with grunts and hot air, green eyes salaciously enjoying the show of you gasping for breath as he fucks the moans right out of you in harsh and deep strokes hitting you in new and tender places – forcing your toes to curl in the air, thighs hiked on his hips.

His other hand holds the top of your head, blunt nails push smilies into your scalp – and it all just smothers you enough to make you cry as his lips and teeth graze your cheek with a leer. “I like my sluts like this- submissive. Taking it like happy little whores in love with getting dick in their wet cunt.”

It’s not the type of sweet talk you wanted, but still, his low and gravely grunting voice forms a fist in your belly and makes you tighten on the fat shaft that has you speared. He groans at the tightness, biting your cheek as his hips stutter, shooting his load inside you without warning.

You’re in shock. Feeling the sweat between your bodies and the warmth of it inside you. You can only stare blankly up at the hotel ceiling fan and halfway wonder why you’d not thought better of it when he’d booked you into such a cheap and sleazy place.

You hear the popping of the Sharpie, but it doesn’t register. Nor does how he pushes the felt tip of it down in the softness of your tit. He scribbles something – cap held between his lips and teeth as he asks, “Wha’ was’h your name again?”

You mumble it dumbly without asking yourself why as he writes the letters on your skin. You don’t flinch when he pulls his phone from the nightstand and takes a picture with the flash on. 

He doesn’t stay for long.

Actually, he doesn't stay at all. He doesn’t even shower before pulling his pants on and leaving with his shirt draped over his shoulder.

You look in the mirror after willing yourself to get up.

Your chest reads Deku, number 47, then your name.

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere midoriya x reader #yandere midoriya #yandere midoriya izuku #yandere deku x reader #yandere deku #yandere izuku #yandere deku x y/n #daddy deku #deku x reader #deku x you #yandere izuku x reader #yandere izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #deku smut #izuku smut #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya smut #deku x y/n #yandere

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books; to go up the chain and sort it out democratically. that goes against everything we've seen him do; he’s quick to drop his enemies and bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer

there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

#i might crown myself the ceo of soap meta at this point i love digging into this boy #but it seriously fucks me up how much he tries to de escalate the situation #invoking shepherd like hes trying to remind graves of who funds him and the power he holds #the consequences he’ll face if he goes through with this. just stop and think it through first #only to be stricken silent when graves drops ‘general shepherd sends his regards’ #he doesnt say a single word after that #ghosts the one who picks up the lead for him ‘he knows about this?’ #he can still function through his shock and the gut wrenching betrayal bc he’s been through this before #and he knows freezing will get him killed #but soap doesnt #he freezes #getting shot is something he wouldve been through before but being shot by an ally? #at that moment he isnt sergeant mactavish #hes johnny and hes in shock #and thats why ghost yelling for johnny doesnt reach him #he only breaks through when he calls him soap. when hes forced back into a soldiers mindset #thats all thats keeping him going. he isnt johnny a man whos been betrayed by a friend #hes a soldier following direct orders to keep himself alive #i can only imagine the after #when he lets his rage run out and is faced with the vulnerable and painful betrayal #but ghosts there to help him through that too. there for johnny the way he wished someone had been there for him #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soapghost

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

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[woodland-gremlin]

Ghostly Parents AU

An AU where Jason was ghost adopted after he died. His resurrection caused his ghost parent a lot of grief. First their kid was brought back to life, having to dig out of his own grave which is extremely traumatic. Second he was kidnapped by a bunch of cultists. Thirdly, said cultist dumped him in contaminated ectoplasm, giving his ecto-posioning. Fourthly they tried to brainwash him and generally treat him horribly. To say that Jason's parent was furious was putting it mildly.

Now depending on the ghostly parent the methods to get him back and how they raise him differ. There is plenty of ghost parents to choose from. There is Frostbite, who would probably just show up and ignore everyone while he treats Jason for ecto-posioning. Depending on who they were he might heal others. He would also do something to the pits just because of how dangerous they are, unknowingly single handily wrecking the League by doing so.

Fright Knight would probably challenge Ras for kidnapping his son/squire, sending him to the nightmare dimension.

Ghost Writer would force the whole League into a book of Jason's choosing forever.

Pandora would charge and seize the League, forcing them to face Amazon justice.

And that is just how they would bring him back, raising him is a totally different matter. Frostbite is pretty chill, ha, but would insist on teaching him the basics of first aide. This could lead Jason to becoming a Doctor that Alfred always wanted in the family because of how well it feeds into his protection obsession. This also leads Jason to meet "The Great One" the yetis always talk about. Whether he joins the yetis in their religion like in one of @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king 's post ( https://www.tumblr.com/long-live-astronerd-ghost-king/742150810600947712?source=share ) or tease Danny about it relentlessly is up to you.

With Fright Knight he would be a squire to him. Jason easily settles into this role because it reminds him of what he did with Batman. All he really did was trade one Dark Knight for another. Like "Afterlife" by batling_out_of_hell on Ao3. Training might kick up a notch because of the kidnapping though. This is also how he meets Danny. Since he is training under Fright Knight who is Danny's knight, this leads to some romance of a knight and his king.

Ghost Writer and Jason would get along like house on fire. They often spend their days writing and reading. Ghost Writer also is very supportive of Jason getting to finish his education. He is not so supportive of Jason's relationship with Danny. He doesn't say anything because of how happy Danny makes Jason but he certainly does not like it, at least at first.

With Pandora he originally had a small fan girl moment because she's related to Wonder Woman! He gets along great with the other Greeks, sparring and having philosophical debates. He meets Danny when he comes for his weekly tea time with Pandora, who later coos about how great they look together.

#dcu #danny phantom #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #jason todd #jason todd x danny fenton #frostbite #fright knight #ghost king danny #ghost writer #Pandora #danny fenton #dead on main #dead on main ship #Ghostly Parents AU

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP prompt

During a rouge attack(your choice) a local graveyard in Gotham was damaged. Afterward, some local corrupted businessmen decided that clearing out the land and moving the graves was a great idea.

Not soon after the "clean up" began a gray-skinned teen with flaming blue hair showed up, and boy was she angry. She began yelling, screaming at the people the workers for digging up her grave.

When she was only met with patronizing responses she used her guitar to destroy some of their equipment. She was only the beginning though. Soon a equally gray looking biker guy and his green girlfriend showed up and started chasing people off.

Even some angry blue guy showed up one morning yelling about how ' they would pay for braking open his box.' (Braking his casket) wasn’t till they accidentally damaged a statue of one of Gothams most famous wardens that it really hit the fan.

The Bats call in Justice League Dark for help with this issue and no matter what they were thinking was going to happen. No matter what hoops they thought they would have to go through to resolve this. They did not expect Constantine to call a fourteen year old for back up.

- So in canon Ember died in a house fire. I could totally see that happening as a result of a rouge attack.(Like Firefly or the Joker, maybe)

Johnny and Kitty died in a motorcycle accident. So maybe they were trying to out run the police? Run from people they had gambling debts with?

The Box Ghost was a warehouse accident. Probably as an example the Mob wanted to make to the warehouse owner after not wanting to pay for protection. Or perhaps he was a whistle-blower?

Walker died in a prison riot, and seeing how Gotham is the place to find violent criminals. Would it be that much of a stretch to say it was Gotham penitentiary? I think not.

#dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #ember mclain #johnny 13 #walker #the box ghost #gotham #john constantine #ghost king danny