#they've got some horror stories about boys. not as many as they do about men but lbr it's not a competition | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asksoldieron · 1 month

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SO-23: Meet Marc!

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

No art, but I am working on it and I will add it retroactively. The eyes are letting me draw, just real slow.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for Picture Book (252|23) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

I'm excited for everyone to meet Marc, and appalled at his situation, and still very aware that everything I do to this broke-ass website is built on sand. Mixed emotions!

Welcome to the wonderful world of trying to fix social issues with eugenics! We still do this! We're a bit more subtle about it, but we do it! I was naturally disposed to be "one of the smart ones," so I got thrown in a class with more people like me, and we got more resources and higher expectations! Then, later, I was naturally disposed to be one of the loser, burn-outs, and I got thrown in a class with more people like me, and we got fewer resources - but lots more supervision! - and lower expectations! Except then they decided I was smart again, and then dumb again, and now Capitalism and I don't have much to say to each other. I need money to eat, but I'm not worth any. All things considered, I haven't earned a place here. I'm a burden! Some people would like to be rid of me!

And sometimes those people have really fun ideas about how to be rid of me. Sometimes allowing me to exist at the edges, as long as I figure some way to get by, just isn't enough, ya know? There's a little bit of that folded into this as, if you'll recall, immies are as many of us at once as possible. We do try to train the children to be a little more convenient when their way of being is inconvenient - not just the autistic ones, but it's still considered a legit "treatment" for them, and a few others. And psychosurgery is not that far in the past!

It's not fixing the social issues in my story any better than it works IRL, of course. They've just created entirely new ways of being divergent that are no easier to control. ...Except maybe that last guy on the sheet, the smoke, but we'll deal with that later.

Marc will return too! As you can tell from the tags at the site.

I needed something happy to mitigate the horror, so I got to write a tiny short story for the NDA to find. It's hard to keep pushing to heal from damage someone inflicted on you, sometimes it's hard to even figure out what "healing" means, but it helps to keep trying. You do pick up a few wonderful things when you keep trying.

I want to write what really happened to him, for continuity reasons, but I'm still murky on the circumstances of the reveal. I'm pretty sure I know who'll help out, but not exactly how. Broken is just the beginning!

(Man, I dodged several bullets with David, by putting off writing his past for so long. I managed to connect all the dots! Even if you'll probably never get the whole truth out of him. I could tell you if I had to. For now, only the spouse knows!)

Marc would not be happy with the NDA taking Erik home, but he also wouldn't be happy with how Erik ended up helping the RA. He'll have to reconcile on his own time, but I think he'll manage. For now, at least he gets to register an objection, even if he may issue a partial retraction later. I think he's justified. I'm still gonna send Erik home, but Marc's not wrong.

I prrrobaby should've made Marc a girl, just for gender diversity in pathetic, lovable characters, but I like my men pitiful and damaged and my women competent but conflicted. (You can tell!) I can only self-correct so much. And, in this case, Erik's not into boys, so that prevents things from getting to complex on my end. The romantic entanglements are gonna be bad enough as it is!

And now, I need to leave off with minimal proof-reading, and just post this early to get it out of the way, because Windows 11 installed an AI on my computer without my permission, and I need to kill it if I can. Thanks, Microsoft! I didn't have enough to do today! I NEED TO BUY COFFEE, YOU ASS!!

...This inst. is gonna go live without me finalizing and formatting the song lyrics, isn't it? *headdesk* Sorry, Readers.

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#tin soldier and soldier on #instalment #engagement lounge

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multi-fandom-inserts · 6 years

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Baba Yaga {Part 1}

Hey Guys! So this is going to be a series! After so many requests for John Wick x Pregnant Reader, I have answered your prayers!

A/N: there is a few pieces of violence towards the pregnant reader, it isn’t graphic but I understand it may be distressing to some readers.Violence towards anyone is not tolerated it’s simply for story purposes. ENJOY.

XXX

Not every legend is a myth, some are flesh and blood. Beyond every legend is a reality, as radiant and sometimes as chilling as the story itself.

You have witnessed the first hand power of legends... after all your husband is one of the best,

Baba Yaga

XXX

Over the past few days, the rain had begin to settle, roads and rivers had began to overflow and the news had started putting out weather warnings. Business shut and schools were suspended. People were told to stock up on food and water, stay sheltered and wait for it to pass. Hospitals began setting up small walk in centres for the needy and communities opened their doors to the homeless. The human race was a hard and selfish bunch but in times like this, I suppose we can be gentle and caring when needed.

Signing heavily, you switch the channel over from the news to catch the end of Labyrinth, you then turn to the fireplace, gently crouching down to poke the fire with a metal rod, tormenting it to keep the flames alive to warm your cold living room. Your dog, Max, whimpers from the sofa, followed by a nudge at your feet, begging you to come back to the warmth of the sofa for a cuddle. You smile to yourself, pushing off the ground you strain to get to your feet, placing a hand on your swollen stomach.

Five months ago, you discovered you were pregnant. You and your husband, John were excited of course but with the... professions you were in, it made life a whole new level of difficult. John had popped out about an hour ago to do some last minute shopping (plus the little human inside you was begging for pickles) but he hasn't returned yet, making you worry.

As you return to the sofa and try and get comfortable, a strong kick echoed from your stomach making you jump. “Excuse me!” you laughed to your bump, just then Max suddenly barked loudly making you jump sharply causing a twinge of pain to shoot down your side. Max's large, German Shepard frame ran less than gracefully down the corridor, continuing to growl and bark into the kitchen. You ignore him at first, Max liked to watch birds and other wildlife from the kitchen.

But then, a clang echoes from the kitchen, the sound of metal hitting the floor making you freeze. Max growls aggressively. Your heart freezes, beneath the sofa side table is a small handgun. You creepy silently – which is hard for a woman of your size – and edge towards the kitchen, listening out for noises. You nudge your way into the kitchen, the fruit bowl is on the floor with the various fruits spread across the floor. From your view, the kitchen was empty but as you nudge round the island, you saw something that made you sick.

Max lays on his side, unmoving, you walk closer to him, your hands fumble for your phone as you call John and place the phone in your pocket. His light fur was splattered in blood with the suspected weapon beside his body. Your heart wrenches as tears begin to collect in your eyes.

“Y/N?” you suddenly hear a distant voice,

“John, someone’s in the house, they've killed Max.” you sob, not removing the phone from your pocket as you slowly get to your feet, holding the gun with your fist angrily as your sadness slowly develops into rage.

“Y/N! Get out of the house! Go!” John's voice yells, “Y/N!”

Suddenly, your face stings and everything blurs. You feel some sort of support as you fall to the floor but soon the cold stone floor is all you can feel. The figures that surround you are too blurred for you to recognise any of them. They quickly remove the phone from your pocket;

“Your wife is very pretty.” the person speaks, his accent is foreign... Russian perhaps but bought up in America so he's got a odd twinge to his voice. You can hear John's calm, collective voice speak back to the attacker. The man then laughs loudly but then suddenly, one of the intruders is in your face, a gun goes off and your vision goes black.

When you eventually come round, your head is pounding, your forehead feels hot and sticky with blood above a open gash. You're sat in front of a large fire, the décor was old yet modern, art work hung on the red papered walls proudly but the lighting was low with a huge bar, coffee machine and deck at the far end just before the large frosted window. There was large bookshelves with huge, old chairs and tables. You move to touch your stomach, trying to coach baby into kicking to show they are okay but your hands are tied to the arms.

Your head runs over a million different scenarios, you start to look for little things, weapons, photos anything that could indicate where you are or who has taken you. Then a smell becomes familiar, the hint of cigar smoke, brandy and wood. Your heart sinks as you bite your lip, drawing blood. “Hello?” you say loudly, you were nervous but years of training has taught you to keep your nerves on the inside, if you look scared they will take advantage. The noise of large wooden doors open followed by the sound of footsteps.

“Sleeping beauty is up, boys!” a lad-ish, Russian voice screams, more footsteps enter the room, whooping and shouting like idiots. You can smell the booze before they come near you. The boy dumps himself in the chair opposite you and eyes you intensely.

He was young, twenty-five maybe thirty. Dirty blonde hair, a mole on his upper lip with piercing blue eyes. A scar that runs from the right side of his nose to his jaw. His wore a expensive suit with a red pocket square similar to the colour of the walls. Into his jacket was sown the letters: I.T. You watched him for a minute, as his eyes gobbled up every inch of you, you were doing the same.

“Do I have something on my face?" you finally snap, sarcastically.

He looks taken back, a hard frown settles into his face. The boys friends begin to snicker and laugh behind his back, you smirk at his friends reactions and just as he threw his hand into his jacket and removing a gun, either to shook or to strike you for a second time, the slamming of a door broke the laughter and makes the man freeze.

"Put that gun down, Iosef!" a older, manlier voice yells.

The man who stood before me, almost srunk in his shoes as he moves backwards away from yourself. The other men flee the room, leaving the two gentlemen and me. Your head has really started to pound now but as the man moved round into view, you gasped silently.

His name is Viggo Tarasov, leader of the Tarasov Mob, one of the most powerful crime families in New York City. He also was your husbands employer before retirment. Viggo's eyes widen in horror as he looks at you, before he knew it, the man who kidnapped you, was punched so hard in the stomach, he threw up.

"What did I do?" Iosef renches as he cleans up his own vomit with a towel thrown at him. Viggo steps over to you as he mumbles something in Russain to his son, removing a knife from his jacket, he cuts your wrists free, giving you space to cluch your stomach and as you do, the small life kicks inside you making you relax.

"We did what you asked, no one saw shit!" Iosef argues as he's removed from the floor, your eyes widen, Viggo ordered this hit?

"I'm not talking about that, you stupid fuck!" his father roars grabbing him by the struff of the neck and angling towards yourself, "It's about her, you attacked and kidnapped a pregnant woman!"

"So? I wasn't gonna hurt her!" Iosef insisted, "I just liked her husbands car so thought if I took her, he'd give me the car and I'd give her back to him."

"You fucking asshole, you killed my dog too." you suddenly spit in anger, removing yourself from the chair, storming forwards, Viggo's guard stoppped you grasping you firmly by the arm. You wanted to fight back but looking down at your stomach, you knew you couldn't, but you did manage to swipe the guards small pocket knife which you quickly threw into Iosef's shoulder.

Viggo stepped backwards, looking at you with gentle eyes as his son whimpers and screamed in pain, removing the knife, Viggo does not offer his son any aid, but instead waits for his son to speak. “I'm going to fucking kill you” the young boy stuttered as he removed the knife, his father strikes him once again, this time he's forced to sit on the ground as his stomach empties.

“You touch her again, I'll let her kill you.” Viggo threatens before pouring himself another drink, “Now you see, son. It's not what you did that angers me the most. It's who you did it too.” Viggo said as you remove the knife from his sons throat and takes a seat at the bar.

“These fucking nobodies?! A chick that's good with a knife and some fucking loser?!” Iosef says defiantly.

Viggo signed, “These fucking nobodies, are John and Y/N Wick.” the names rolled off his tongue like poison, “Both are, well there are no secret here anymore, the best hitman and assassin in the world. John used to work for us about two years ago whilst Y/N worked for our Italian rivals, we called him, Baba Yaga.”

The name sent goosebumps up your spine, you hated it when people called him Baba Yaya, it's the name that haunted your life so years and the name you never wanted to say and as the years of working for the Italian mob flooded back, you shivered violently.

“The fucking bogeyman?” Iosef asks with a scoff.

You laughed, “John wasn't the bogeyman,” you say softly.

“He was the one you sent to kill the fucking bogeyman!” Viggo spat, Iosef suddenly looked pale. “John is a man of extreme focus, commitment and sheer will. Something you, know very little about.” the father and son were now, nose to nose with each other, Iosef looking more and more worried by the second, his father smirked a little, “I know, I once saw him kill three men, with a pencil.”

Viggo joking poked his son with a imaginary pencil before refilling his glass, you sat in complete silence, taking in the surroundings and the men squabbling in front of you, listening to them tell old work stories about your husband.

“And then, one day he asked to leave, I suppose Y/N had something to do with it. I said I'd let him leave on one condition, one agreement. I have him an impossible task, something no man could of ever pulled off: kill all of our enemies. The bodies he burned that day, lay the foundations for what we are today...” he trailed off, almost thinking about that day, you remember it very well, you had word he was coming for you but what you didn't know was if it was to help you get out or kill you.

“I can make this right!” Iosef then screams, begging to help and forgiveness. You can only laugh at his desperation. Iosef turns to you, angrily as he storms quickly across the back between you. His arm his stretched out for your throat, the bodyguard does nothing as you snatch Iosef wrist and twist it, he drops the knife into your palm as you manipulate his body to where your arm his round his throat with the knife gently piercing the soft flesh.

“Listen up, kiddo.” you say softly in his ear, “No one can help you, John will find and he will kill you, there's no way you are going to survive the next 72 hours because no one on John's list has. But I'll guarantee you, if my husband doesn't put a bullet in you, I will.”

You throw him to the ground in front of his father, who makes no effort what so ever to help his son, instead he kicks him in the ribs, flipping him over to face upwards, and then he angrily spits in Russain. “You've started the clock, son.”

#john wick x reader #viggo tarasov #john wick #pregnant reader #imagine #reader insert #female reader insert #Keanu Reeves #john wick 2

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