#but actually looking at death in the face knowing its coming? that shakes you to your core | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thenightwolf51 · 9 months

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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

#dpxdc #danny is a Wayne #danny is the wayne family protector spirit #duke can see ghosts #an alternative of this could be the same background but Danny decides to come in as the preCrisis “Uncle Philip” that initially raised Bruc #if so Agatha would definitely vouch for Danny #there's not much on Agatha Wayne but she seems fun

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0blobthefish0 · 3 months

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Partygirl

leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist

Part 2

Leighton Murray x Female Reader 2,204 words

You take biochem with Bela and Whitney and you're never usually one to party, so when Bela finally convinces you, you find yourself letting go. Leighton can't help but keep an eye on you.

You let out another sigh as you fall onto your back in the middle of your friends' common room.

"We're gonna fail," you mumble, covering your face with your hands and slowly dragging them down before letting them slump against the floor with a thump.

"Stop, don't say that," Bela quickly scolds and you can't help but frown in defeat. You feel a gentle pat on your knee and groan. Biochem was going to be the death of you. "See? The thing just goes in this thing and that other.. thing comes out?" A half-suppressed - but lighthearted - laugh shot out of you and, in return, you felt a slap to your knee.

"Ow-uh," you pouted at Bela as you sat up to which she scrunched up her face and mocked you like a child. Your mouth fell agape at the sheer audacity of your friend and you felt for a pillow from behind you.

"Are you guys still studying for the exam?" You hear Whitney question and you begrudgingly release your hold on the pillow.

"Sadly," you and Bela reply in unison - which brings a grin to your faces.

"Ugh- it's no use though, I need to let off some steam." Silence fell of the room for a brief moment and then Bela turned to you with a glint in her eyes.

"I know what could help..." she smirked, but you were already shaking your head. You knew what she was going to say. She had brought it up so many times and each time you said the same thing.

"No, absolutely not," you waved her off as she began to creep closer.

"Oh come onnnnn," she whined her hands gripping onto your upper arm, "pleaseeeee? Just this once."

"I've been before, they're not that good," you replied and you felt Whitney sidle in next to you.

"But," she lightly paused, "have you been to one with us?" She combated with a sly smile. You shook your head in defeat.

"So you're going?" Bela asked loudly, causing Kimberly to emerge from her room.

"Yess.."

"Yes!"

---

The four girls, Kimberly, Bela, Whitney and Leighton, stood in the middle of their common room - all dressed in accordance for the evening - and four shot glasses stood lined on the coffee table. A knock sounded and the four girls turned their heads toward the door, Bela ran over, her heels clacking against the floor.

"Quick!," she waved to one of the others, "pour a shot."

Leighton stood, brows furrowed as Kimberly quickly rushed to pour a shot, unaware of the incoming visitor. "Who's here?"

"Y/n!"

"Y/n? As in biochem Y/n?" Her question was answered as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Ayy! You actually came," Bela shouted and wrapped you in her arms. Leighton took a few moments to blink back her shock.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna leave you hanging," you smiled shyly and looked up, your eyes locking onto Leighton's, just for a brief nanosecond but you felt as if you had been winded, before engaging with the others. As soon as you let go of Bela, Kimberly passed you a glass.

"We only have four, so it looks like you'll be taking the first one," Bela cheekily grinned. She watched as you wavered slightly. "I'll help you," she whispered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips so she touched the bottom of the glass and pushed slightly over time as you guided it to your lips and threw back the first shot of the night. The girls erupted into cheer and your cheeks warmed as the liquor burned its way down your throat.

Leighton watched you intently as you were pulled into the middle of the room, the movement causing the skirt of your dress to ride and your hands quickly pulled the material down. You picked up the bottle and placed your shot glass down before pouring the liquor.

Once again, four shot glasses lined the table, only this time they were full. The four girls reached for their respective glasses and you swallowed a gasp as Leighton grabbed the glass you had just drank from. It was stupid, really; getting butterflies over sharing the same glass, but you couldn't help it. Your small crush on the blonde was sometimes all-consuming and it needed to end, for your own sake. Leighton would most likely find a one night stand tonight and you ultimately concluded that you would do the same.

"Okay, one," Bela began, "two," she pointed at the bottle in your hand and gestured for you to take a swig, "three!" Your lips met the lip of the bottle and you let the cold liquid fall into your mouth.

The four girls felt the instant rush of the first taste of alcohol and the excitement of what the evening could hold was nearly suffocating. However, Leighton couldn't help but look at you; she's never seen you like this, so eager to get drunk, and she can't tell if she should be worried or not. She shook the feeling off, you were your own person. If you wanted to get black-out drunk, then so be it.

---

Loud music boomed through your very soul. Your brain felt as if it were vibrating in your own skull and your heart felt too big for your chest. But you found that you didn't mind. Bodies pushed up against you, the crowd moving as a collective body, swaying and jumping in time to the beat of the music.

You're the most drunk you've ever been, you're sure of it, and you find yourself being glad that it was the weekend. You feel so light and you throw your head back as you take another shot. The room starts to spin as you push a cup to your lips and you do your best to ignore it, just closing your eyes and giving in to the music, giving in to the feeling. There's a pair of hands on your hips, you aren't sure how long they've been there, but they grip onto you and you'll probably find finger-shaped bruises the next morning.

Leighton nurses on her red solo cup as she eyes you in the crowd. She's staring daggers at the boy behind you - the one with his hands on you - and she feels her jaw clench involuntarily. She can't help it. And she swallows painfully when she watches you lean back into him, your eyes fluttering closed. You're drunk. So drunk she's surprised you haven't toppled over yet.

Then his hands begin to roam.

At first dragging up towards your waist and pinching at your skin. He's so rough. Leighton can't help but point that out. His hands move back down toward the hem of your short skirt and push the fabric up, his hands resting on the skin of your thighs. There's a sharp tingling feeling in her fingertips and a lump begins to form in her throat and, before she knows it, she's pushing through the crowd to get to you.

"Okay that's- that's enough of that." She spits out at the boy as pushes a hand between the two of your bodies. She knows him, one of her brother's friends. And she feels sick to her stomach as you slump so easily into her side as she guides you away with a hand on your shoulder.

You stagger on your own feet as you cling onto Leighton's arm.

"Where're we goin'?" You mumble.

"Back to mine, I'm sure your roommate wouldn't be too happy if you came home now," Leighton explained as she unscrewed the lid to a bottle of water and pushed it toward you.

"You taking me home?" You smirk, taking the bottle, and she can hear the innuendo in your voice, causing her heart rate to pick up ever so slightly. She shakes her head with a smile on her face as she heads in the direction of her dorm.

You're uncharacteristically flirty. Something she wasn't prepared for by the way her stomach does flips and the grin on her face. It's cute. Seeing you like this. But she can't really understand you as she opens the door. You're babbling - something about your dress and the floor and her bed. She's glad you're as drunk as you are, otherwise you would have taken note of the deep blush covering the blonde's cheeks and the way goosebumps litter up her arms.

"Yknow?" You pause as you use her to keep your balance to slip off your heels - her hand finding your waist as yours rests on her shoulder so that you can stand on one leg.

"Know what?" Leighton questions softly, following you, as you pad over to her room and climb on top of her bed. You sit on your knees and reach out for her. You've misjudged the distance by quite a few centimetres and slip so fast Leighton feels her heart jump out of her throat as she catches your fall and pushes you back up. She lets out a nervous laugh as she stabilises you and your hands move to cup her face as you stare down at her.

"You're so pretty, you know that, right?" You smile softly as you search her eyes and she doesn't know what to say. "Your eyes and your face and your hair and your nose and your lips," you whisper as she sees your eyes flicker to her lips and she absentmindedly pushes her tongue out to wet them slightly.

You're drunk - she tells herself. You'd never say this if you weren't. Maybe you'd never even think it if you weren't. Your hands glide over her shoulders and then down her arms before grabbing onto her wrists. Leighton swallows a gasp as goosebumps rise in wake of your movements. She doesn't know what to do. Of course she's dealt with drunk people before and of course she's dealt with liking friends before. But it's you and this time liking a friend could actually amount to something. It didn't have to be some silly little fantasy, it could be something real.

No, she couldn't do that to herself. Not when you're currently pulling her into her own bed, which you are in. You not liking her in the way that she wants would be different; different because you're the first friend that she's liked who actually likes girls. You not liking her would be so much more personal.

"Where're you going?" You question her with furrowed brows as she tucks you into her bed.

"The couch," she mumbles in reply and you frown ever so slightly as you search her eyes.

"Aren't you staying?" You're so tired that words are hard to form and Leighton pauses as she racks her brain for an answer. For some reason there's a sharp pang in your heart and you lightly clear your throat before moving the duvet off of you. You go to say that you'll go sleep on the couch, but nothing leaves your mouth. Instead, Leighton pulls the duvet back over you and bids you goodnight.

"Leight.." you whisper just before she gets to the door and you stare at her for a moment, your pupils wide from the alcohol and your gaze hazy. "Please stay with me?"

Leighton tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, but she's recently found that she can't say no to you.

"Okay," she whispers back and you quickly move to give her more room as she steps forward. She climbs into bed and you unashamedly make yourself comfortable - tugging the duvet over her as you snuggle into her side. It's a small bed, of course the two of you were going to be close, but you were practically holding her and your head rested on her chest. Her heart was pounding, so hard she could hear it in her own ears, and she hoped that you were still too drunk to notice.

You could hear it, of course you could, but, little does she know, it's the sound that you're falling asleep to.

Leighton lets out a light yawn, she hadn't realised how tired she was until she got into bed and before she knew it she found herself closing her eyes and falling asleep.

---

Bela, Whitney and Kimberly fall into the dorm after struggling to open the door and push their uncomfortable shoes off as soon as possible. Whitney stops dead in her tracks when her eyes land on a mystery fourth pair of shoes. She points a finger at them and turns a head to her friends.

"Are those Y/n's?" Kimberly whispers, though not very well. Whitney's pointed finger moves up from your shoes to the closed bedroom door.

Bela's eyes go wide and she slaps Whitney's hand down before tiptoeing over to her shared room with Leighton. The two other girls followed closely behind. She pushes the door open and takes a few steps in. Wide grins fall onto all of their faces as they take in the sight.

Your head is still on Leighton's chest, but now her arms wrap around you protectively in your sleep.

"This is the cutest thing ever-"

"They didn't sleep together?"

#female reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #wlw #fluff #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #Blob's fics

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cuubism · 9 days

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hurt/comfort you say?

I'm a sucker for party or parties unknown trying to (re)capture Dream or otherwise damage/control him and Hob going absolutely feral to protect him... but what if Hob gets badly wounded protecting Dream and Dream has to take care of him....

I know it's not a new idea but..... I love it...

omg yes i love it. a classic

Hob hadn't thought you could die in dreams.

Okay, you could die, but you didn't actually, well, die. You just woke up in a cold sweat feeling all discombobulated until it faded to a distant bad feeling and then nothing.

Figures he'd only learn otherwise now.

(Really should have paid more attention when Dream kept telling him dreams are real, Hob.)

Fucking figures.

He gasps awake in his bed with a whole sword still stuck through his chest, and then immediately checks back out again. Happens when you've got a sword through your aorta. When he comes back to life, Dream is standing above him, holding the bloody sword flat on his palms. The blade, the murderous expression on his face, the hallway light haloing his hair makes him look like a holy executioner.

Hob's heart is still pumping blood all over the bedsheets. "Dream, the fucking--" he starts trying to say, then just checks out again.

When he wakes again, Dream is gone, and Hob feels speared through the heart in another way entirely. Take a sword through the chest saving a bloke's eternal existence and he just dips out? But no, that's not like him, not anymore--

Then he's gone again, and when he wakes, this time--

--Dream catches him.

"Wha--? Dream?" Everything feels muzzy, and he shakes his head to try to clear it. This... isn't his bedroom. He's lying propped up against Dream's chest, Dream's arms wrapped around him, one hand pressed to the hole in his chest-- to where there was a hole in his chest, it doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore. "Where are we?"

"Don't pay attention to it," Dream says, voice close to Hob's ear. This of course makes Hob want to pay attention to it, but whatever's around him, the sort of nebulous impression of lack of place and vaguely unsettling haze, hurts to look at. Dream tuts in disapproval when he tries to turn. "This is an in-between space. Not for your mind to perceive."

"Great. In between where, exactly?" Hob tries to push himself up, but a bolt of pain to the chest has him collapsing back into Dream's arms.

"Between sleep and waking," says Dream. "Do not move."

Hob's not moving again. His breath wheezes. He feels like there should be a sword stuck through his chest, and there isn't, but he keeps trying to breathe around it. No, wait, Dream took the sword out. "Did I die or not? I thought I died."

Now there's a crease of pain in Dream's voice. "Temporarily."

A shiver of unease runs through Hob. "Dream, you're... not supposed to be able to die in dreams, right? For real?" He's not sure what it means. If his deal with Death extends to whatever kind of soul-death they might be talking about that could happen in the heart of the Dreaming.

"Not in a way that carries through to the waking, but you so love to defy precedent," Dream says, teeth gritted, and Hob feels him shudder, and his hand on Hob's chest grows warmer, like he's... channeling power? "Admittedly, the spell they used to ensnare me had unforeseen effects on the Dreaming."

"Okay." Fuck, he's tired. Too worn out for this questioning. He leans his head against Dream's shoulder. Nice to touch him like this, even considering the circumstances.

"I am unmaking the dream," Dream says, "hence, this liminal space. You have already brought it with you to the waking and so it can no longer be easily reabsorbed into the Dreaming."

"Yeah, I noticed all the blood." He shudders, eyes falling shut. Still as tired as if his body is expelling all its blood somewhere down... wherever. "I saved you though, right? I killed that guy before they could finish the spell?"

"Yes." Dream strokes a hand through Hob's hair, a gentle touch. His voice is softer when he speaks again. "You saved me."

"Good." That's all that matters, in the end. Hob'll live. Always does.

He's... slipping, again, he can still sense Dream's hands on him, but it's distant. "Will I remember it, if you unmake the dream?" he asks. He wants to remember it. Saving Dream, and Dream's hands on him so gently. Even if it means also remembering the slide of the sword between his ribs.

Dream hesitates. "I--"

Hob wakes up.

Again.

In his bedroom this time. He comes to wakefulness groggily, spreads his hands on the sheets. They're dry, no blood--

He shakes himself. What is he saying, blood? Why would there be blood? Fuck his head hurts. And God he had a strange dream--

There's a sword lying across the foot of his bed.

A proper longsword, the metal gleaming unnaturally bright. Hob reaches for it, mesmerized, and as his hand closes around the hilt, a voice comes from his side.

"I thought you might like it for yourself."

Dream. He's perched beside Hob on the bed, looking strained and tired. Reflexively, Hob rubs at his chest with his free hand. Nothing there.

But when he meets Dream's eyes, he catches a feeling in them. A fragile awe. A hunger. He catches it and while the exact details won't come back, he feels the moment, the killing blow, the one that he'd struck and the one that had struck him. And Dream, holding him close after, trying to make it right.

He lets go of the sword -- it doesn't turn back into sand, surprisingly -- and takes Dream's hand instead. Dream watches him, utterly still, then says, "You saved me."

"I know." He knows, even if he can't remember the exact detail of it. Dream did... something to make it sort of not have happened, except it did happen. Sort of. "Course I did." It happened because of course it happened.

"Of course," echoes Dream. And then a tiny smile blooms on his face.

And, of course, Hob chases that smile until they're kissing.

He's not quite managed the boldness to kiss Dream before now. But the echo of Dream's hands in his hair and his palm pressed firm over his heart gives him courage. And it feels so right it's like it's already happened, only he knows it hasn't, he would remember that.

Well, maybe it's happened in his dreams.

Now, he kisses Dream, leaning in, and Dream cradles the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair. He kisses Dream.

And this time he doesn't wake up.

#this went a different way than the prompt i feel #dreamling #ask #anonymous #my writing

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blue-sadie · 6 months

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Five Stages Of Feelings

Neteyam x Na'vi Reader

Summary: the decision to go looking for you was the best decision he ever made

Warning: enemies to lovers, hurt reader

3rd person pov

The village knew of the rivalry between the oldest son of jake sully and the daughter of ninat, they fought for the title of best hunter of their age group but it only ended in punishment.

"This is your fault" yn hissed bumping shoulders with neteyam as she passed him, neteyam growled and grabbed yns wrist pulling her to look at him, his tall figure looming over her.

"Its not my fault you don't know how to shut your mouth" he spat, the two were paired on a hunting trip his father thinking it would be a good 'bonding' experience but the two started bickering scaring off the pray.

"Then you should've giving me a bloody arrow" yn pulled her wrist from him harshly causing her to stumble and fall into the mud the mud splattering over her body, neteyam burst out laughing he bent over clenching his stomach trying to catch his breath.

Yn huffed and got up stumping off into the woods "your going to get us in more trouble" neteyam called after her but when she didn't to back he huffed rolling his eyes and went his own separate way back to the village.

He took a seat at the end of the village watching the trees carefully this is the way you'll be coming back and he just wants to annoy you further but when you didn't arrive at eclipse a feeling started to tug at his heart.

Worry? Guilt? No why would he feel any of those he let out a forced laugh he hates you he wouldn't care if you went missing it would actually be better for him.

He waited for a few minutes and slowly started to pace his eyes still trained towards the forest he slowly became more aggregated with himself "ah fuck it" he cursed loudly and walked into the woods.

His tracking skills helping him very much "your going to be the death of me yn" he grumbled slowly climbing over the roots that was in his path, his ears flickered as he heard it.

A whimper of pain, he crouched low to the ground slowly making his way to the sound his eyes looking around for any predators that might be lurking.

"Yn" he whispered as he caught sight of you laying on the ground his breath caught in his throat as they ran over your body noticing the blood "fuck" he muttered and jumped to your side.

His hands wavered as they hovered over you he didn't know what to do "w-what happened" he choked as he moved his gaze to your eyes his heart clenching as he saw the tears rolling down your face.

"V-viperwolfs" you grunted, neteyam quickly slid his hands under your body trying to pick you up but you cried out in pain "c-cant" you weakly pushed him away as you spoke.

He grabbed your hands holding them tightly "I have to get you back" he said his voice filled with concern but you just shook your head "n-not gonna make it" you cried making him shed a tear of his own as he shook his head.

"I'm not gonna let you die" his voice was dipping as he slowly lifted your hands to his chest "you can't die" he murmured making yn giggle which turned into a coughing fit "starting to sound like you care about me sully" you panted he nodded his head.

"I do surprisingly" he smiled sadly "is it bad I think the same" yn said making neteyam chuckle and shake his head "I think it's perfect" he whispered and leaned down connecting their lips together in a quick kiss before pulling back just leaving a inche between them.

"Neteyam" he hummed in response, yn shifted slightly taking out a fruit that was underneath her, neteyam frowned in confusion intill he saw that the fruits juice had a blood like texture he looked between the fruit and yn making her smile nervously.

"Lo'ak and kiri put me up to it but I'm glad we feel the same way" she giggled slowly sitting up he narrowed his eyes at her growling slightly.

"I'll get you back one way or another"

Tag.List

@laylasbunbunny @neteyamyawne @sweetirilly @greekgods15 @erenjaegerwifee

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar pandora #avatar way of water #avatar x reader fluff #avatar fluff #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader fluff #avatar pandora fluff #avatar fanfic

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literaila · 2 years

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perishable hours

tasm!peter x reader

summary: peter reminds you how important sleeping is. and then proceeds to keep you awake.

warnings: fluff, insomnia, half-asleep drabbles.

a/n: and in this i attempt to write fluff without writing fluff

it's quiet when he gets the call.

quiet enough for new york city in the middle of the night. car horns, and flickering lights, and yelling from a couple of streets down. the sound of doors opening and closing, and people running from dreams they used to covet.

peter likes it best like this. when there's nothing to do.

when time is only a thing to stand on, tilt off of the edge as he appreciates the silence that comes with three am.

but then his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

peter--for just a moment--feels a bout of relief that his phone is still there. the guy at the tech store is getting tired of seeing him, and peter is getting tired of making an excuse every time he loses his phone.

the relief goes away in a second; no one should be calling him at three in the morning.

and when he sees your name on the screen--illuminated by a picture he took of you sitting at a counter, glaring at him because it was the fifth picture he'd taken of you that day--his confusion morphs into panic.

you're usually asleep by now. usually laying in your bed, slightly snoring. you've always got some drool on the side of your cheek. always got your legs kicked out of the covers, shivering because of how cold it is.

which peter knows, because he finds it all endlessly adorable.

but only when you're actually doing it.

and besides, you have a weird thing about calling him when he's patrolling.

"i don't want you falling on your face when you get shocked by your ringtone," you'd said to him.

peter had smiled, charming. "but then you could kiss the bruises away."

so peter clears his throat, avoids thinking about whatever you might need, and backs into an alleyway that he would avoid under any other circumstance.

he'll do the most for you.

"hey, baby," he answers, sounding more carefree than he feels.

he can hear you breathe into the phone. "hey."

peter keeps a smile on his face. "what're you doing up so late?"

there's a sniffle on the other end.

it only proves to drop peter's heart even lower in his chest.

he hums into the phone, waiting.

"peter," you whisper, softly, breath catching.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" peter asks you, slipping the mask off of his face. he looks around for any pedestrians, and then takes off his gloves. "another bad dream?"

"no. it's just--" peter can't hear you clear enough to tell if you're crying, but he has a sinking--sinking so far into the earth that it digs up spare body parts--suspicion that you are. "i can't sleep."

peter holds the phone up between his ear and shoulder, sneaking his other arm out of its sleeve. "are you feeling okay?"

"yeah."

"just tired?"

"yeah."

peter switches ears. "i'm sorry, baby. what can i do?"

"i don't know. i thought talking to you would help" you breathe out, sniffing again. "but i just feel worse now."

"worse?"

"you're working. i can hear sirens."

peter avoids shivering from the cold. "i was just heading home."

"don't lie, peter."

"i'm not," he swears, pulling his suit down so he can shake it off of his feet. "i'd much rather talk to you. it's boring tonight. and cold."

"you like when it's boring."

peter tries not to smile at how well you know him. "i like it when you're feeling alright, too. did you just want to talk?"

there's a brief pause, leaving peter a moment to dread whatever you're going to say next.

as he stands in a dark alleyway in a t-shirt, underwear, and socks. his hand digs around for the backpack he stashed earlier.

"it's okay," you whisper. "i'll probably fall asleep soon."

peter smiles, maybe amused at the unspoken words. or maybe because he's trying not to freeze to death. his heart flickers at the concession in your voice.

he slips his sweatpants on next, refusing to think about the reality of this situation.

"baby," he whispers to you, listening to you breathe.

"yeah?"

"can i come over?"

peter hears something that sounds like a laugh.

"you don't have to. you're probably tired."

"nope."

"peter," you sigh, now trying to convince him.

peter laughs, slipping on his shoes. "i'm wide awake. and greedy."

"greedy?"

"wanna see you. it's been too long."

this time, you actually laugh. "i saw you earlier today."

"my point exactly."

"you still don't have to."

peter zips up his backpack, falling back into the light once more. he listens to the sirens and smiles into the phone.

"i'll be there in ten."

you flinch as you wake up, body on alert, nerves short-circuiting until you're sure that your limbs have left completely.

that the numbness of your arm is just a trick of your mind.

and that the eyes on you are just some part of a leftover dream. dazing carefully, droning on and on because they won't look away.

brown and warm and soft and smooth. rough in their nature. playful.

they stare at you, amused. unmoving and careful and cautious.

and there's a hand on your head, musing your hair.

you groan and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to grab onto the grasps of dreams that are still leftover.

because it would seem that this isn't one.

"good morning?" peter says, laughing.

you fall even further into the pillows, head aching from the light coming in through your window.

"are you still sleeping?" peter asks, softly, moving your malleable head. tilting your jaw.

you can still feel his eyes on you.

"why are you staring at me?"

"incoming news: my baby is beautiful."

peter's voice is soft and teasing and far too amorous for your heart. too strong and true and every usual thing that you love about it.

"too early for this," you mumble, moving away from him and digging your face into a pillow.

peter laughs. moves you back so that he can stare at you.

"this is creepy, peter."

"okay."

you open one eye, squinting at him. "i don't remember inviting you in here."

"that's weird because i remember it very well," peter tilts his head, eyebrow raised. "i distinctly remember someone tackling me when i--"

you push him away.

"not like that," peter says, returning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"an hour or so."

your other eye opens. you blink. "what?"

peter moves his head down into your neck, nuzzling the skin by your pulse. "you're very warm."

"you mean to tell me that you've just been laying there for an hour?"

"not just," he says into your skin.

you can feel the vibration. curse the goosebumps that respond.

peter laughs.

"how did you sleep?" he asks you, softly.

"fine until i woke to a stranger in my bed."

peter's head jerks up. "where?"

you laugh, pushing his cheek away with the tip of your finger. peter smiles and grabs your hand from his face, kissing the knuckles there.

"how did you sleep?" you ask him. "were you here all night?"

"came in around four. you woke up, kissed me, and then fell back asleep."

"sounds about right."

peter moves some hair out of your face. "i didn't mean to scare you," he says. "i'm sorry."

"you didn't scare me."

"i would've left but i fell asleep."

"that's good. you were out late."

peter doesn't answer that, only traces a finger from the corner of your eye to your jaw, up to your lips. his touch tickles, which you know, is the point.

"you didn't scare me," you repeat, because you know him.

"no? you jumped."

"that's how i always wake up."

peter laughs and kisses your cheek, melting his adoration into you.

it's almost unfair.

"i thought i was dreaming. i like it when you're here."

peter meets your eyes. "yeah?"

you nod, allowing your lips to move on their own accord. to bend and twist and smile at him like he's the only thing that could be worth it.

peter smiles back, just the same. "you're cute when you're half asleep," he whispers.

cloudy tone and sweet words and things that are supposed to kill you right where you lay.

but then he kisses you. he manages to wake you up completely, any hazed thoughts drifting away from your head. nerves alight with fear that he'll move away. skin burning at the thought of him touching you.

which he is.

he teases at your skin, laughing into your mouth.

you laugh back.

peter pulls back, hand tilting your chin toward him. "what do you wanna do today?"

when peter wakes up, it's to the sound of a door closing.

so he lays in bed for a moment. tries to remember where he is and why he's asleep.

it's still dark outside, he can see when he looks through the window. streetlight shining in on his face.

if he touched the glass, his skin would freeze.

peter pulls the cover over his head, his own warm breath punching him in the face.

he's pretty sure that he forgot to brush his teeth.

so he moves them back down, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. he's not sure when he fell asleep. barely remembers watching a movie with you, and laughing when you almost fell off of the bed. he doesn't remember what happened next.

but he knows that you should be right next to him, clinging to him like you always do when it's cold outside.

but you're not. you're nowhere near him.

he looks over to the clock on the bedside table, the numbers flashing red back at him with a glare.

he blinks again.

and then sits up, looking at the crumbled covers on your side of the bed. the pillows on the floor.

and peter frowns because usually, this isn't a good sign.

he hears you close something else in the other room.

there's a slight concern fuzzing up in his chest. like a purr of his blood, telling him that he's not falling back asleep any time soon. just barely dimmed from the excess of exhaustion still in his chest.

peter feels just a little bit dizzy when he stands up, feet wobbling over the floor. he still has his socks on.

he walks to the door, just about to open it when he hears something else on the other side.

something that sounds like music, and something that sounds like you dying.

peter walks out into the kitchen to find you singing into a whisk, dancing to a song he doesn't quite recognize.

all of the lights are on.

you don't seem to notice him, even when he goes up to the counter, just continue singing and dancing--movements soft and smooth and far too enthusiastic for two in the morning.

still, peter lets a smile tease at his lips.

he wonders if maybe he's still asleep. that maybe this is just something funny to tell you about tomorrow.

but then you look up at him, eyes widening, movements stopping.

peter watches as you almost fumble with the bowl on the counter, falling like he's just changed your center of gravity by walking into the room.

"peter," you say, surprised, voice a bit quieter than the music. you reach over the counter to grab your phone, turning it down. "you're awake."

peter laughs, noticing some flour on your nose.

"did i wake you up?" you ask, brows folding. "i'm sorry. i was trying to keep it down."

peter shakes his head. "no. what're you doing?"

you look down at the bowl again, almost guilty. like a child with lipstick all over their face. "making cookies."

peter sits down on a stool, watching you. "this late?"

you give him an innocent smile. "i thought that you might help me eat them."

"why are you awake?"

you shrug. "i wanted cookies."

"so you decided to start making some at two in the morning?"

you frown. "well, actually, i woke up an hour ago. do you know how dirty the kitchen was?"

"bub--"

"i spent an hour cleaning it. and now i'm making cookies."

peter lets out an exasperated laugh. "that's all?"

"i was dancing."

"i noticed."

you frown and stop mixing the dough. look towards the clock on the stove. "you should go back to bed. you have to be up early, don't you?"

peter nods, biting his lip.

you stare at him, waiting.

he stares back, so willing to watch your face shift and burn into the atmosphere.

a perfect cosmology.

"what?" you ask him, brows raised.

"what kind of cookies?"

"chocolate chip."

peter gets up, walking around the counter, towards you. "can i have one?"

"i'm making them for you."

peter goes right behind you, wrapping arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest, and letting his head drift down to your shoulder.

"are you going to fall asleep right there?" you ask him.

"i might," peter leaves a kiss on the skin of your neck he can reach. "speak now or forever hold your peace."

you say nothing. simply take the bag of chocolate chips next to you and pour it into the dough.

"you know i'm not going back to bed until you do, right?"

you nod your head against him, pushing yourself as close to peter as possible.

peter closes his eyes, breathing you in for a moment.

and a couple of minutes when he opens them again, he frowns, reaching around you to grab a mug.

"is this coffee?" he sniffs at the cup, spinning you around.

you're trying not to smile. so guilty.

"baby," he sighs, throwing his head back.

"i just needed a little kick when i was cleaning--"

"we've talked about this."

you frown and cross your arms. "when?"

"when we talked about getting enough sleep, and not sabotaging yourself--"

you tap a finger on your chin. "do not recall."

"you're not getting out of this one."

"we'll go to bed when the cookies are done," you say, so simply, turning back around, purposefully avoiding his eyes.

"hey," he says, tilting your head back towards him. "what's with that?"

"what?"

"your mischievous little smile."

you pull away from his hands, shrugging. "don't know what you're talking about," you mumble.

peter pulls you away from the counter again, moving so that he can see you. "you planned this out."

"hmm?"

"being loud, the music, my favorite cookies..." peter stares at you, maybe amazed, maybe annoyed.

you are completely silent.

"oh, you--" peter laughs, digging a finger into your stomach to watch you squirm. "waking me up because you missed me, huh?"

"peter--"

he laughs when you giggle hysterically, trying to push his hands away.

"what'd i do to deserve that, bub? you're always talking about--"

"you win!" you gasp, "baby, i don't--"

"--how important sleep is."

"peter, c'mon, i can't--"

"and what was that about 'you should go back to bed?'" peter demands, a smile playing at his lips. "you're the one that woke me up--"

"mercy," you plead. "i'm sorry," but you're laughing so hard that peter can feel your body shaking.

one of his hands moves to cradle your cheek, getting you to look him right in the eyes.

face bright and warm and every beautiful thing that peter isn't sure he deserves.

"you're sorry?"

"so terribly."

"and you're going to stop drinking coffee this early in the morning?"

you pout. "i didn't say anything about that."

peter's hand reaches for your ribs again, and you squeal.

"okay," you move away from him--not that he's letting you go. "okay. no more coffee."

"good."

and then peter stares at you, trying not to burst into laughter.

you look like you're doing the same.

peter raises a brow.

"okay, to be fair--" you begin.

"here we go."

"you fell asleep so early. like, how old are you actually? because i thought you would at least make it to eight, but--"

peter's jaw drops.

you giggle at him, eyes crinkling at the sides.

"did you just call me old?"

"not explicitly."

and then he pulls you even closer, tilting his head so he can whisper in your ear. "now you're in for it."

the next morning, peter doesn't remember if you finished making the cookies.

"peter," you whisper, almost close enough to taste his skin.

to watch him breathe and wonder what it would be like to never stop.

he doesn't budge. moves over and continues snoring into the pillow.

so you laugh at him, sit down on the space he's so considerately made for you on the bed.

you rub at his shoulder, frowning at how warm he is.

"hey, kid," you say to him, glancing at the clock. "wake up."

peter's eyes flutter the minimalist amount.

you snort.

"c'mon," you say. "it's almost noon. i would let you sleep but you're going to mess up your schedule..."

he sniffs. tries to roll over again.

you poke his cheek.

"you should know that there is a water bottle right on your desk," you say, softly. "and that i am not afraid of you. or the water. at all."

peter peaks an eye open.

"there he is."

he frowns. "would you really dump it on me?"

you pretend to think about it. "i would kiss you awake first."

"is that still an option?"

you laugh and fall over him, cuddling deep into his skin.

"woah," he says, but wraps an arm around your back, holding you closer. his fingertips tease at the back of your neck, daring. "have you been up long?"

"since nine."

"what'd you do?"

"watched some tv. made breakfast. drew a mustache on your face in sharpie."

peter's head lifts up, meeting your eyes. "really?"

you laugh, trace his cupids brow.

you admire the soft color of his skin. the pink to his cheeks and the flush that he has only this early in the afternoon. only after you've been laying on him.

only with you; only with him.

"shame," peter sighs. "i've been trying to grow it out."

his nose meets yours, sweet and soft, and he's so close that you almost don't remember how to speak.

how to breathe and pretend that it's normal.

"i'll keep that in mind tomorrow morning," you whisper, just barely.

peter lays back, pulling you with him. you watch the dimple on his cheek twitch and forget about doing anything else.

peter doesn't bother to knock on the window when he gets in this late.

he doesn't want to run the risk of waking you up--of worrying you with bruises that will be gone by morning, and making you leave the secure cocoon you've collected around yourself.

blankets and wonderful thoughts and feelings that peter misses just a little bit too much right now.

as soon as he's in your room, he's slipping his shoes off.

he's looking at you and wondering how he ever managed to leave.

he's taking off his jacket, dropping his bag on the floor, and trying not to shiver from the cold.

he's staring at you, for just a little too long.

he watches your face as you twitch in your sleep, a soft curve of your lips. a blank and peaceful face.

peter's chest pinches at the idea of watching this any longer.

so he crawls towards you, leaving a short and yearning kiss on your cheek.

moving the covers just a little bit. so that he can fall into them with you.

"hey, bub," he says to you, knowing that you can't hear.

he lets himself fall into your bubble, taking up space that he knows you don't want.

he moves some hair out of your eyes; smiles at the subtle twitch of your cheek.

and then he kisses your hairline, wanting to spend all night staring at you.

talking to you and listening to you speak back. memorizing the sound of your voice and every little thing that makes you laugh.

he wants to fall asleep right here. right now.

he wants to avoid the world and pretend that there isn't anything else.

because maybe there isn't.

even with the light from outside shining on your face--ruining the illusion--he smiles.

he pulls you closer to him, cooing softly when you cuddle close to him, smiling in your sleep.

and then he breathes out.

falls asleep without a doubt in his mind.

my masterlist here.

tags: @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf

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verxsyon · 7 months

Text

·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓? ❞

wriothesley always wins his bets against you. for this round, the stakes are getting much higher. how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings to the duke? will this be the moment you’ll finally come out victorious, even though you have to pretend that your feelings toward him are in denial?

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. wriothesley x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. drabble ; 0.6k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. coworkers to lovers au ; fluff

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. no way, it's almost been a year since i wrote a drabble and for genshin too. wrote this during class today, so it looks pretty rushed lol. this man’s the death of me. he can choke slam me like he did with douchier dougier in his story quest. and no, i’m not sorry for saying that.

A defeated sigh escapes your lips as your cards rain down from your fingers onto Wriothesley’s desk. “Unbelievable. A first-time TCG player beat me in all three rounds. So, what do you want your prize to be? A tea company from the surface?”

“Haha. Your suggestions are becoming more adventurous, captain.” Wriothesley kicks back on his chair with a great idea in mind from the smug smile on his face. “Meet me there at night. You’ll help me sneak in, and I’ll rob its entire collection.”

You narrow his eyes at his sarcasm, and he surrenders. “Alright. I'll settle with a tea cup set. The cups in my current one are broken and the teapot has some cracks, so it’ll be nice to have a new one.”

“Okay, I’ll place an order from the surface and ship it here.” You get up from your seat. “I must head back. The guards could be slacking off as we speak. Excuse me, your grace.”

“Ah, actually.” You hear the chair scrape the floor and turn to face him, who’s now leaning against the front of his desk. “Before you go, there’s something I need you to investigate.”

“Of course. what is it?” He stops you from coming back to your seat by his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. His expression’s gone rather ominous, and it stays that way when he leans closer to your ear.

“How long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings for the duke?”

You cough violently and push yourself out of his hold. Despite his claims of not being omnipotent, his eyes and ears are everywhere within and beyond the fortress. But why are you still surprised that he’ll find out your feelings toward him eventually?

“Don’t tell me you believe those rumors, your grace?” You boldly deny, but deep inside you already know he totally won’t buy your facade based on your immediate reaction. “I’m assuming that’s what you want me to investigate, so again, please excuse me—”

“You didn’t answer my question, captain.” His fingers glide to your shoulder, akin to caressing it, and the temperature in your cheeks suddenly skyrockets. “So, how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to—?”

“I heard you the first time, your grace,” you say dismissively, screaming at him in your head to let you go back to your station and never talk about this matter ever again. “With all due respect, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Come on. Don’t tell me you already forgot,” he laughs as he goes back to his seat, hands folded on top of his desk. “Wanna bet?”

“This again?” you huff, more worn out from his ludicrous habits since you were stationed at the fortress as its security team. However, this could be an opportunity for you to finally win against him. If he decides to play the game this way, then might as well follow along to ensure your own victory. “Fine, I’ll say never.”

“Oh? No faith in the duke’s capabilities to charm them?” He seems confident with the answer he has come up with. “I’ll say within the next hour or two.”

“Ha! Overestimating the captain’s willpower to not fall for his charms, I see,” you counter, showing off your determination to win. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Alright then, it’s settled.” He shakes hands with you to solidify the agreement. “Oh, and captain? No need for your suggestions for this one. I know what I want as my prize.”

“Oh? And what would that be, your grace?”

Wriothesley just chuckles and tells you the most unpredictable thing that you never imagine being your fate as a loser. “How about a date with the captain themselves?”

#✦ .fics #favoniuslibrary #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley drabbles #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley scenarios #wriothesley fluff

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 2 months

Text

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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ponderingmoonlight · 23 days

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Chapter 2: Negotiating Fate - Reluctant Alliance in a New Realm

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

“Tell me about the part where she left you standing in the rain again.”

„Are you out of your mind? Get back into the salon right now, (y/n)!”

“My decision stands. I won’t marry a man like Gojo Satoru.”

Your brother spun you around with ease, his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that your bones cracked underneath his rough touch while Gojo stayed back inside the salon, visibly surprised by your rejection.

“He is the prince. Don’t you know how lucky you are that he even considers taking you as his wife?”, your brother hissed through gritted teeth, venom spitting from his threatening orbs.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want him, doesn’t it?”

“She looked at me with a determination in her eyes I never saw in a woman before, told me she won’t marry me and stormed away without another word”, Satoru repeats while his finger glides up and down his chin thoughtfully.

What an unusual experience. Not only for his status as prince, but the given fact that he has a gorgeous face and a well-toned body, all women were head over heels for him since he was young. But you…you looked at him with such disinterest that he can’t stop thinking about you. You, a member of the Zenin family. Even though you already live a carefree life in one of the wealthiest and most influential families of this country, a marriage with a prince would have been your coup, the greatest honor you could bring to your family.

He chuckles.

And you rejected him.

He can’t be mad at his best friend for laughing out loud while shaking his head.

“I never thought I would witness a woman rejecting you. And that as a daughter of the Zenin family, a truly brave Lady”, Suguru finally comments in sheer amusement.

“I wonder why she left so suddenly. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself, let alone introduce me properly. You know what she called me?”

“You are nothing but a philanderer, a pompous prince who thinks he rules the world just by the power of his bright blue eyes. Excuse my harsh words, but I am not the one for you, prince.”

“A pompous?”, Satoru repeated, a smile creeping up his face.

“Yes, a pompous. Now excuse me, I was actually busy when you arrived. Have a pleasant travel back home, Prince Satoru.”

“Your reputation seems to precede you, my friend”, Suguru replies before breaking out in laughter again.

Satoru slides forward in his chair, eyes narrowed in a desperate attempt to hold onto the memories of your flawless face. What a remarkable woman you are, truly outstanding in contrast to the usual monotone Ladies he has to endure. It’s not a secret to anyone that he enjoys female company, always surrounded by multiple women at once. But a pompous? It was never more than a friendly talk or two, he never invited one of those boring girls into his sheets.

“We’ll see how this goes, Suguru. Maybe she will come back to her senses, after all.”

“Are you out of your mind, (y/n)?”, none other than your father shouts at you.

You can’t help but swallow hard. His sheer presence alone sends shivers down your spine, well-aware of the fact how threatening the man standing only inches away from you can be.

“Just what I expected. I always knew you are useless, sister. Your only job is to marry the prince and you are even unable to do that”, your brother spits at you.

“Are you even aware of how much time it cost me to arrange the prince of this country visiting you? Are you even aware how much money I spent on your education, your clothes, your maids? Listen to my words: You will marry the prince, (y/n). Or else I will show the world who you really are. Out of all people, you should know best what this world does with people who inherit special powers. You will burn at the stake like your mother.”

You swallow hard, all air drained from your lungs. The way his eyes gleam at you tell you all too urgently that he is serious about his words. Your mother…She was never mentioned in the manga or anime. Is Naobito Zenin cruel enough to kill the mother of his own children? And most importantly, what are those special powers he was talking about? Is this…jujutsu? Are you…a jujutsu sorcerer in this world?

“I am your daughter”, you press out, the hurts almost not leaving your tongue.

“Would you really kill me over a broken engagement?”

“Dear (y/n). I don’t care about who you are. The only reason you are alive until this day is my plan to marry you into royalty. Apart from that, I have no use for you.”

He grabs your arm so roughly that you can’t escape, the stinging smell of alcohol coming from his hot breath almost causing you to choke. In this situation with no way out, the painful truth draws to you.

It doesn’t matter if you really hold special powers you are unaware of in this world or that you are his daughter. If you don’t play along, you will die all over again. Just like you did in your first life…

The glowing headlights of the car crash into you over and over in your mind. The feeling of your bones cracking, your blood discolouring the street crimson, how your heart stopped beating, the violent screams of your friends.

You shake your head vehemently, glossy eyes widen in sheer horror. You don’t want to die all over again, not when you were given this unique second chance. There has to be a way out of this misery. Maybe…Maybe…

“Then allow me to visit the prince myself and fix this situation.”

You still refuse to live a life on Gojo Satoru’s side when there are men like Geto or Nanami. But you will find a solution. After all, this is still somehow the Jujutsu Kaisen universe you know so well, right? You just have to. You won’t throw away your newfound life so easily.

“Now look at that”, he purrs to himself while holding up the piece of paper than informs him about your visit.

You didn’t even wait for his reply. As his valet said, your carriage is already on its way. What made you change your mind?

How ridiculous to even ask this question. Your family is known for being strict, especially when it comes to their female members. Your brother and father probably forced you to rethink your situation and showed you your place. As a woman, you have no worth apart from marrying into a wealthy family. Since the day you were born, your father always tried to find a way for you and therefore himself into royalty. Your whole education was built around the thought that you might become queen someday.

And you rejected his wish by rejecting Gojo Satoru himself.

“Let’s see what you have to tell me, (y/n)”, he mutters to himself.

“Your Majesty, Lady-“

“Good day, Your Majesty. I am deeply grateful for this renewed meeting”, you speak out while you bow politely in the door.

Your heart almost beats out of your chest. It takes all your strength to stop your palms from getting sweaty, to not ruin your makeup out of excitement. Oh, you truly don’t want to be here right now. It is all too clear that you are capable of living a happy life without a man by your side. You’ve been alone your entire life, didn’t care about a male ever before.

And Gojo Satoru is no exception, even in the form of an influential prince.

You bite your lip, fingernails digging into your gloved hands. But still, you depend on his help and understanding at this very moment. If he doesn’t agree on helping you on his own…

You will have to find a way to force him into it.

“I am delighted to see you again, Lady (y/n). Even though this is the only option after you gave me no choice”, he replies with a slight grin.

That bastard. The gleam in his eyes makes it all too clear that he is very aware of why you decided to pay him a visit. With the movement of his hand, he orders you to sit down on an expensive-looking…what is this called? A canapé? He sits down opposite of you, eyes fixated on yours.

“It was truly surprising hearing from you after you rejected me so boldly earlier this morning.”

His words sting like knives, force your eyes to narrow. Well, maybe because you were literally forced here to fix the engagement you don’t want.

You take a deep breath. Catch yourself. If you want someone like Gojo Satoru to give you another chance, you have to stay strong.

“I rethought my decision the second you left. I would love to accept your engagement, Prince Satoru. But only under one condition.”

He tilts his head to the side in surprise. You, having conditions for an engagement with the Prince? How unusual. But the gleam in your lavender eyes tell him that you mean what you say.

“Please enlighten me, Lady (y/n).”

All of the sudden, your fingertips start shaking. You dig your nails into your thighs, take a few deep breaths in and out. Please, just say yes. Please don’t ask any further questions.

“As we will be considered engaged on the outside for the sake of both of our peace, I will follow the duties as the Prince’s fiancé at any official occasion. But I will never have any romantical interest in you, I do not wish to share more time than needed with you by my side. I still don’t want to marry you as well as you aren’t interested in being tied to a single woman. This agreement would benefit both of us and will be dissolved as soon as it no longer has any use.”

Thick silence hangs in the room, tension within reach. He slides forwards, amusement glimmering in his bright blue orbs.

“I respectfully decline your offer, Lady (y/n). Have a pleasant travel back home”, he replies before getting up and making his way out of the room.

For a moment, the world stops spinning, you are too stunned to speak. Did he just…refuse your offer? But why? You always thought he would be the last person who wants to marry a single woman. And if your father pressures you into a marriage, a prince like him is definitely forced to marry soon as well. It is clear that this benefits both of you…So why? Out of instinct, you jump up, hands clenched into fists.

“If you don’t accept…”

Gojo Satoru stops right in his tracks, head moving to the side ever so slightly.

“I will uncover that you are in possession of special powers. I will destroy your reputation and therefore your chances for the throne. So, do we have a deal? ”

Do they have a deal? Find out in next chapter! Let me thank y'all for your amazing support for chapter 1 and this whole idea. I'm beyond excited to share this fic with you and let me tell you the plot will go INSANE with this one - stay tuned! Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren @sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823 @livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom

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immortalbutterflycos · 1 month

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@jegulus-microfic ~~ (707 words)

This is based on a thought that went a bit like, "What if even though Regulus became a Death Eater, James chose him as his secret keeper." Enjoy~

"How did you find me?" Regulus demands. His eyes are sharp and made of ice, and his wand is at James's throat; the tip of it digging harshly into the skin there. More than familiar with this particular position, James can't hold back the smirk that finds its way to his lips.

"You should know it better than anyone, love. One way or another, I'll always come find you." The wand is urged forward even deeper and James swallows around it.

"Because of our past together, I will give you one chance to run before I'll be given no choice but to come after you. And rest assured that when I do, I will not hesitate."

"Sure, Reg," James says, smiling like he doesn't actually believe it. "Say, we're going into hiding soon. Did you know?" Regulus squints at him as though his intelligence is only slightly higher than that of a sea slug.

"Well, I'd certainly hope so. Though I must say that you won't be able to hide for long before He finds you. A talent I suppose you and The Dark Lord have in common."

"Oh you'd "hope so" would you? Why Reggie, it's almost like you still care for me." Regulus faulters for only a split second, the wand loosening a bit in his grasp. He recovers quickly though, with a sneer, poking the wand back harder into his neck until James lets out a small, involuntary choking sound at the intrusion.

"Potter, I swear I will kill you right where you stand if you-"

"What do you know about the Fidelius Charm?" He asks, his voice a tad strained. This time when Regulus falters a bit, surprise colors his face.

James was truly enjoying throwing him off with every other phrase. It reminds him of a time when their arguments didn't have such high stakes and their hearts were still intact and not shattered callously on the ground at their feet.

"You're going to be hidden under the Fidelius Charm..? That's..." He meets James's eyes again and this time there is no ice. No confusion. Only pure, white-hot anger, mixed with something else unnamed.

"Why would you tell me that?" He asks, "I can't- If He asks me if I know anything about where you're hiding, He will be able to look into my mind and see this moment. Do you understand? By only saying this much, you've already endangered everyone you love and care about."

James pushes the wand to the side with two fingers, surprisingly with no resistance.

"I want you to be my Secret Keeper."

Regulus shakes his head in disbelief.

"You are a fool, James Potter, if you think for a single second that this is a good idea. In case you've forgotten, I'm a Death Eater. I've hurt people James. I've hurt you! I've never once given you any indication that I wouldn't fully hand over that information to Voldemort as soon as I make that oath."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Risk?" Regulus says, his eyes seeming to burn in stark contrast to the ice-cold they'd held only moments ago, "What risk? James, this is suicide."

James reaches out to cup Regulus's cheek, the Death Eater flinching at the touch but not pulling away. Which tells James everything he needs to know.

He smiles.

And it's not that cocky sort of smile or the flirtatious one he's worn for a lot of this interaction. No, this one is full of warmth and love and... trust.

"It's not."

"You're going to die. Each and every one of you and your precious Order are going to be hunted down and killed before you can even lift your wands." Regulus's voice is quiet and resolute but something else trembles beneath the surface. James swipes his thumb over his cheekbone; over light, familiar freckles on pale skin.

"Then I die knowing that you're the one who pulled the trigger. But you won't."

"Who says?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"Because, love," Regulus flinches again at the pet name, "I've said it before, and it's no less true now than it was back then, I would trust you with my life."

"Then that's how you're going to lose it."

"So be it."

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #the marauders #marauders era #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic

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v-dkja · 2 months

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take a chance with me

“Oh, why can't we for once, say what we want, say what we feel?” kamisato ayato x gn!reader. slight angst, arranged marriage, hurt/comfort, arguing, mentions of death, open ending.

Those vague memories flashed through your head; young Ayato who smiled at you. A smile that makes you willing to die for him. he flashed a sweet smile, while his hand gave you a flower he had just picked. You remember that moment well, reluctant to ever forget it.

You also remembered young Ayato's face when he found out that the two of you were engaged— and would be getting married someday in the future. You don't know whether it's a good thing or not. Actually, at that moment you felt happy, because you had kept your feelings for him, without thinking about Ayato's true feelings for you.

And here you are, waiting for Ayato— who has now become your husband, to come home. You haven't seen his beautiful face that looks like a painting by a famous and skilled painter, and you should be used to it. You wait for him with sadness, knowing that when he comes home, he won't hug you and say, "I'm home” like he used to do.

And here you were, looking at Ayato who had just arrived; his face showed clearly that he was exhausted, and needed rest. This can be seen from the start of the appearance of eye bags. You've always refrained from telling him all your thoughts all this time, but seeing him always come home like that, your heart couldn't bear it and decided to hold it for another day.

“Welcome home, Dear.” to which he only responded with a ‘hm’.

He then walked past you without saying anything. Leaving you alone, again.

Feelings of anger suddenly appeared suddenly. You didn't really want to feel that feeling right now, not with Ayato's current condition.

The mouth that had opened unconsciously now closed again, giving up the intention of saying a word. Maybe another day, you thought.

And here you were, lying on the bed facing Ayato's back. His breathing started to become regular, indicating that he was asleep. Doesn't he intend to sleep facing you and hold your hand just once?

Your eyes start to feel heavy, not because of sleepiness but because you are holding back the tears that want to come out. You don't want to look pathetic now.

Your hands want to hug him from behind and whisper ‘i miss you’ just once. But you don't want your ego to win this time.

Your tears just came out without your permission. That fragile body that was originally standing upright is now starting to shake from crying, your breathing is starting to become irregular and even your mouth is almost making a sound, but luckily you can hold it in.

Your hand moved of its own to wipe the tears that had come out, but a strong hand that was bigger than yours prevented you from wiping them. You vaguely see the figure of the man who has made you happy all this time, also suffering at the same time. Ah, it turns out he's still awake.

“Why’re you crying?” The audacity to ask like that after his attitude all this time.

“It’s nothing..”

“Don’t lie,” His voice was commanding. How much you hate that voice, but that voice was once your savior.

“I said— it’s nothing!” Your voice rises, your hands trying to free Ayato's grip.

“Then why’re you crying?!” Ayato's voice also rises. It was clear he was also angry.

You remain silent. Your voice wanted to come out to explain but it could only be replaced by sobs. “T- tell me..”

“Do you… actually l- love me? Do I have to die first so you can pay attention to me? Tell me.. Ayato.”

Ayato looked confused in response to your question. "What do you mean?”

“I'm sorry for feeling neglected all this time. I'm sorry... Please, forget about this.” And i thought love will always feel beautiful.

“I can't just forget this! My wife is crying,” Ayato shouted. “Look, i’m sorry for making you feel like that, okay?”

“I…” Ayato's voice trailed off. For some reason not a single word could come out of his mouth, as if he had been bewitched. “I love you. I always love you. Please forgive me. I don't know what happened to me that time. I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe because I was tired, I became like that. I never meant it like that. I just want you to know that you’re appreciated, okay?” Ayato's hand wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

#genshin x female reader #genshin scenarios #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato angst #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x you #genshin ayato #genshin x gn reader

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yestrday · 6 months

Note

ouh oh eyeing the making them beg prompt RESPECTFULLY. not sure if the prompts are towards the chara or by them but if it's the first one.... blade and/or dan heng, maybe? holy moly when prideful/quiet men beg 🫣

no pressure pookie! i love ur works btw 🤍

ooh i do love me some bladie q(≧▽≦q) even if i do find him hard to write. dan heng was also supposed to be included but i accidentally published it :((

part of an ongoing event!

╰┈➤ BLADE of the Stellaron Hunters.

only metal bars separate the two of you in this musty dungeon cell, and they shake ferociously when your prisoner grabs them and bares his teeth at you between the gaps.

"you really think these trifling things will stop me from laying a hand on you?" from the shadows, his crimson gaze seems to be devouring you like he's the one watching the prison from the outside looking in. "you think anything can keep you safe from me, lamb?" he laughs lowly. "you're as naive as you look."

"not as naive then if i'm the one who has you locked up," you hum, twirling they key languidly around your finger as you shoot him a haughty smile. "we're destiny's slave, bladie. not slaves to our whims. you should've thought better before you went about attacking me."

he keeps quiet, but he continues to gaze at you with a look between obsession and hatred. little thought went into his actions when he tried for your neck with his broken blade. but you had been working with him and kafka for some time now, and it was agonizingly tantalizingly how clear his head felt at your slightest touch. it was a medicine better than kafka's whisper.

you must know the effects you have on him, from how you always smile and lean in for a touch before pulling away at the last second. you must have known how crazy you've had him for you, and it would have hurt his pride, had he not been reduced to a rabid mutt itching to get a pet from his master.

"i think i know what you want," you smile at him, leaning in close to the bars till he can feel your breath mingling with his shallow pants. "poor thing, the mara must be torture for you." you let your fingers trail over the space between his brows and — ah, there it is, that lightheaded feeling that he's been drunk on these past months. like floating through space, like death hath come, like peace at long last— till you pull away with a teasing smirk and the weight of a thousand hundred years comes crashing down on him again.

no. impossible. why would you take away heaven after he's finally had a taste? you bite back a laugh at the tortured expression on his handsome features, before they curl into cruel smile.

"beg." because of course you'd say that. aeons were never benevolent. why should heaven and its master be?

"... lease..." blade mumbles, pride choking his own words as if he hadn't been living without dignity all these years. "please, [y. name]. i need it. this thing you're doing to me..." he raises his head, and though remnants of bitterness light aflame at the back of his eyes, you see more of the broken man that he actually is. "whatever it is, i need it. badly."

your hand cups his chin and tilts it back to get a good look at his handsome face. sweet, sweet euphoria blooms in his mind, that blank feeling overwhelming every scream and torture that had taken over his mara-infected mind. that blissed out blank look, paired with a gaped and panting mouth, is too beautiful.

"how badly?" you whisper, though blade can barely register your words.

"more than i need death itself."

that's more than enough for you. sweetly, like a lover and not a master, you kiss him through the metal bars. you give him pleasure that has his whole body weak, and he slumps into the bars, kissing you back like he never wants to pull away.

at the back of his mind, he thinks of how this was the start of a worse torture than mara. because now that he'd gotten a slice of your heaven, every second apart from you would be worse than hell.

#yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere hsr #honkai star rail #hsr blade #yandere x reader #yester.writes #yester.events

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lorkai · 5 days

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hello Genshin fandom 🥺👉👈, how y'all doing? This is actually my first real time writing for this fandom but I've been reading so much sagau fics and they are all so cool that I wanted to write something too. Not really sure if I'm going to start writing for genshin but we'll see. Hopefully this is good.

"So... This is how it ends?" A last whisper leaves you as a coppery taste invades your mouth, a strangled half laugh escaping from your blood wet lips.

It was tragic. Still, a little comic how golden blood escaped from the giant wound in your stomach caused by Zhognli's spear. The whole world thought you were an impostor, someone worth killing and now time seemed to stop. The clocks hands stoping moving, the sand stopping falling inside the hourglass.

For a moment everything was static, unmoving, not even breathing.

The whole world was shaking, the winds started howling. You looked at them, eyes moving from face to face. And they had the audacity to look shocked, pale, nervous and anxious as you were dying.

The adrenaline had reached its peak, making any and all pain bearable, painless, but with an injury like that you knew what the result would be. You laughed again. After running away for so many months, being cold and hungry, and only knowing fear, you let everything you felt come out of your chest before your death.

You laughed till your eyes were blurry with tears. Tears filled with pain and hatred. You laughed till your throat was hoarse, the sound stretching till it was all but a hiss.

"Your Grace!" You heard Venti's panicked voice, smug smile wiped from his face as he had the audacity to come closer. Though he was far too coward to touch you, he fumbled anxiously. "No... How could this happen?"

Yeah, how could this happen? You thought bitterly. You were isekai'ed to this world but you were ok with it. And then the characters you used to love and cherish started hunting you.

All because of some kind of creator. You didn't even knew there was a creator in the game? There was one? You can't remember. Skipped dialogues, playing it through drowsiness, not reading the books. There was plenty of lore you could have missed.

It was too late now.

"Use your futile head once, bard." Was your reply, dry tone making him wince. "Write me a song while you're it."

"We thought..." Ei started. But a glare from you had her silent in seconds, imponent Shogun Ei trembling under your eyes.

"You thought but you didn't ask me for clarifications, you didn't let mm..." You coughed blood, a pool of golden coating your clothes and feet.

"You Grace!" Zhongli screamed, alarmed.

Your body became weak and you fell forward, your knees weakening and small tears running down your star like eyes, Zhongli held you, so delicate and with so much love. Once, you used wished for him to hold you like this, for him to cuddle you and share all this knowledge with you over tea but now it just left a sour taste on your mouth while you looked at those ambar eyes as the minutes go by.

"Please, don't leave..." A cry from Ei's wounded soul. Followed by Venti's regretful tears.

A god of freedom took the Creator's freedom, deprived them of it without using his mind like he used to do. And the goddess of eternity was sentenced a spend eternity alone, without her sister, her son, her creator...

Zhongli lips were moving, you could feel the vibration of his voice reverberating through his chest where your head rested. But the words became blurred and their meaning was lost.

The wind was swaying your hair so gently, caressing your face with its smooth invisible fingers.

In his arms, you died.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #impostor au #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #genshin impostor au #venti x reader #venti x you #venti x y/n #ei x reader #ei x y/n #ei x you

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feninina · 4 months

Text

𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗯𝘆 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: desperately, you come to tommy shelby for help, hoping he would lend you a job that could finally free you from your sorrow, not knowing he had other things in mind.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT (minors dni!!!), heavy dubcon, mentions of sickness and death, poverty and slight angst. gunfucking, oral, implied dacryphilia, cheating, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, spitting.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.6K words.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: hi!! i was gone for a very long time but now i’m finally back, yayyy!! 😁 hope y’all enjoy this little thing i wrote, lmk if there’s a mistake, it’s always good to receive some feedback.

smut under the cut

It was a lovely afternoon outside, the sun bathed the streets of Birmingham with a warm shine, the birds chirped on the trees and the children played outside their classrooms. You wished nothing more but to be there, sitting between the flowers watching your students run and chase each other, listening to the sweets laughs that came out of their throats with every step they took, but instead, you were there, sitting in front of Thomas Shelby, and those, were no longer your students.

"Someone's here to see you" Lizzie Shelby announced to his husband moments prior, who was focused in the papers on his desk, not raising his eyes to meet his wife on the door of his office.

"Who?" he asked sharply, more interested on the work he was doing in that moment than any potential visitor.

Lizzie accustomed to his unwavering dedication to business, sighed softly as she stepped into the room, exposing you to his sight, standing timidly behind her, waiting for Tommy's approval to go inside. "It's your son's teacher"

Thomas Shelby finally tore his gaze away from the papers, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering through his eyes. "Yeah? Bring her in," he replied, setting aside his work momentarily, intrigued by the unexpected reunion.

Lizzie nodded before giving you an unenthusiastic look, gesturing you to go inside. You complied, smiling awkwardly at her and starting to walk towards the desk of the imposing man in front of you, who's only presence made you feel weak at the knees.

He stood, offering you his hand to take, stretching it with such a formality that made you regret coming here, to ask what you were about to ask.

"Miss" he said, clearly not even remembering your name. His tone was calm, but a hint of curiosity sounded clear in your ears as he spoke. "Is my son giving you trouble?"

Your fingers were trapped inside his large palm and your tumb brushed against his knuckles, making you sense how rough his hands actually were. The smell of smoke filled your nose and your mouth parted slitghly, not losing the sight of his mesmerizing blue eyes as your soft skin met his, a soft sigh coming out of your lips.

"No, sir" you said, your voice breathy as embarrassment ran through your whole body, you put your hands together in front of your legs as he let go of it, the feeling of his calloused skin lingering on yours. "Charles is an amazing student"

He sat again, gesturing for you to do the same, he knitted his eyebrows for a second, his silence feeling everlasting in your buzzing ears. You felt your whole face burn in anticipation, a knot in your stomach building since the moment your brain came up with this little twisted idea.

"Is he?" he asked with a light chuckle, lighting up a cigarette, you nodded. Once you were sitting, you crossed your legs so the shaking was less evident, putting your lips into a fine line when Tommy continued speaking. "Because I don't think you only came here to tell me what a great student my son is. Did you?"

Smoke came out of his velour lips along with his words, the grey cylindrical cloud making its way up to the ceiling and forming a faint curtain that enveloped the both of you. Still, even between the smoke that enveloped him, you could still feel his eyes burning holes through your skin, making you throw your head down, your gaze glued on your fidgeting hands that rested on your trembling lap.

"Actually, Mr. Shelby" you stuttered, raising your eyes for a moment to meet his stoic face. God, you felt pathetic. "I- I'm not Charles' teacher. Not anymore"

"Yeah?" he said, licking his lips. "What are you doing here, then?" his tone was plane, a little intimidating in your ears, and you were so nervous, that you didn't notice the amusement behind it. Him? He was having a blast. A little young beautiful thing like you sitting on his office, practically entering the wolves mouth by your own will.

You could feel the humiliation flow through your body as you tried to come up with a way to tell him what you needed— to do that beyond your beliefs request that you were there to do. And you stayed quiet, lost in your own thoughts, trying to come up with an idea to speak your mind.

You were desperate, you truly were.

Last week, your sister fell sick, and for her bad look, your family was poor. Starting with your already struggling parents and adding your low wage job to that, she would be death within the span of two months or less. You adored teaching, every little part of it, and the little payment wasn't really a problem to you, but that was before your sister contracted the fever.

Now, the bills were too much to handle, and your poor and elderly parents expected something out of you, to maybe ask for a little extra payment at the school, but you knew that wasn't possible, they barely payed you the minimum. But going against your instincts, you did as you were told, and asked for a raise, or, maybe an advanced payment— the only thing they gave you was a nice and simple "Clear up your desk".

It's an euphemism to say that your parents were disappointed. They supported you during the course of your teaching career because they held hope for you to marry a wealthy man, who would help you to support your family with their expenses, but that was very far away from reality.

It was unrealistic, to run into a man's arms just to save your penurious family from a dying child. You could do it, jump in with both feet into a marriage with no love just for the economical part, but what man, in his right mind, would marry a malnourished and poor woman like you? You weren't even that beautiful in your own eyes.

You were lost in your own thoughts, playing with your silk handkerchief between your fingers looking down at your lap. It was silly, even considering coming here, but this was your best choice.

Not the last— you could be a hostess, you could swipe floors and wash clothes, maybe even beg for your old job back, but you know that it won't pay the bills, it won't save your sister, but this? Oh yeah, this will.

You knew about the Peaky Blinders, everyone on Birmingham knew about them, and last year, you had the luck to teach the child of the one and only, Thomas Shelby. Charles was a well-behaved kid, it surprised you, to be honest, knowing the reputation attached to his last name you thought it would be a nightmare to have him in your classroom, but Charles was sweet, polite.

But beyond his good manners and perfect grades; you noticed, his shinning shoes. His fancy clothes. The endless talks he starred to the other kids about his father horses and his big house.

And you always despised the Shelbys, they were criminals, evil people. You were just another permanent victim of their damage to Birmingham, that's what you considered yourself and the other folks like you. It was just a logical thing; they profited by destroying the city, the city that you barely afforded to live in.

But now you wanted to be a part of them, because you knew that it could be the only way to save your sister. And you begged to god that Thomas Shelby would take pity on you and maybe hire you to at least wipe his floors.

You'll do anything.

"So," he said again, snapping you out of your intern turmoil "what are you doing here, ey? Wasting my time?"

You took a sharp breath, looking at him with those big, teary eyes that made him wish to jump to the other side of the desk and tear you apart, a big sigh leaving his lips at the delicious thought of laying his hands on your tender skin, that shinned like gold in his sight, to touch and mold it to his will.

But he stayed there, waiting for you to speak as he watched with that unsettling stare of his that made you wish you never came here in the first place as you opened your mouth and closed it again, trying to find a way to say— to ask what you came here to ask.

"I know that the pay here is good" you started, your body covered in a cold shiver that ran down your spine as you spoke. "And I really need the money-”

Your words came out rushed, your tongue pushing them our of your mouth before you could think twice about it, urging you to say them before the man in front of you would lose his patience and kick you out of his office.

But he didn’t speak, amused, looking you through the smoke of his cigarette, the corners of his lips twisting into a minacious smile, the way you struggled to talk, to look at his eyes, it all entertained him.

He was thinking, very carefully, about what to do with you. You were being ridiculous, of course, he had to suppress a laugh when he realized what you wanted, and if you were any other person you would be out of his office whitin the blink of an eye. But he was trying to decide what to do with you.

You were a lucky woman, he thought. Because, luckily for you, he was more focused on the way your dress hugged your body in all the right places, the bright red color of your cheeks and those eyes full of tears— Luckily for you, he meant no harm, but his thoughts weren’t exactly good ones.

“I want a job” You finally admitted, his silence only encouraged you to keep speaking, sighing heavily and feeling the urge to explain yourself to him, but he quickly cut you off the moment you opened your mouth to tell your tragic little story.

“I’m not hiring” his voice startled you, and that only sentence felt like a slap on the face. “And if I was, what can you do for me, ey?”

You finally broke down, tears falling down from your eyes as you couldn’t answer that, shaking your head and mouthing a little ‘I don’t know’, your voice coming out as a soft whimper, music to his ears.

“I really need the money, mr. Shelby-”

“We all need it, don’t we?” he said, putting out his cigarette as he leaned in, resting his arms on the desk, trying to get a clear view of you. “But do you know what we do, honey? Can you kill a man? Are you good with numbers?”

“I- I am” you pathetically tried to answer his second question, but he laughed at you, coldly. “I was a teacher- I can-”

“Nah, that’s not enough” he said, pursing his lips. He then reached for something in hip, making your blood run cold as you registered his movements and your brain understood what he was looking for.

When you saw it in his hands, tho, you nearly got up from the chair and ran away, but your legs were so shaky, that you just looked at him with pure terror, not knowing what was going to happen.

“Do you know how to handle one of these?” He asked roughly, putting the gun on the desk and you felt a deep sense of relief going down your body, but still, you were scared. You shook your head, unable to say any words.

“So, you came here to waste my time, after all” he snarked, leaning back on his chair with a cocky grin, making you shiver. You should have ran away from that room several minutes ago, but for some reason, you felt like he was luring you in into something you didn’t know about.

“I don’t want to waste your time, mr. Shelby, my sister, she’s sick-” your pleas felt like honey to his ears, and he couldn’t help but lift himself up from his seat and walk towards you, rounding the desk and grabbing the gun in the way.

“You came to me to help your sister” he repeated, like he was trying to understand your reasons, nodding as he stood there, besides you. You looked up to him timidly, bitting your lip. You wanted to notice about anything else than the silver weapon in his hand, but you couldn’t, your eyes were glued to it. “That’s a good girl”

You knitted your eyebrows at the shift of his tone of voice, the fear now twisting your stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you grimaced when he brushed his free hand through your hair, which made you look at him with a hint of curiosity, your venison eyes not leaving his face.

How clueless you were.

“I can help you” he told you, his caress suddenly turning into a strong grip on your hair, yanking it so you stood up in front of him, making you yelp in surprise. “But you’ll have to help me, too”

Suddenly, your whole body ran cold as you felt the cold metal of his gun trail along your thighs, a gasp leaving your lips as panic filled all of your senses, more tears gathering around your eyes.

Tommy groaned at the sight, dragging the pistol upwards, sneaking it inside of your dress and in between your legs, the sensation of the weapon resting right outside of your mound making your knees fail you, but lucky for you, his strong grip on your hair kept you steady.

“Mr. Shelby…” you pleaded, closing your eyes when he started to move the gun in a circular motion, making your mouth betray you and slip out a pretty moan, that made Tommy’s pants grow tight on him.

“You see, that lady out there, it’s my wife” he explained, making you open your eyes while you tried to understand him, the way he brushed your clit with every quick movement of the gun between your legs making your brain send waves of fear and pleasure through your body. “She doesn’t satisfy me, not anymore”

You nodded, your agape mouth liberating soft gasps for him to hear everytime he pressed the blade further against your cunt. You wished nothing more than to him to pull it away, but at the same time, you wanted to beg him to keep doing whatever he was doing.

You could feel your panties get stickier by the second, your wetness flowing out of your pussy with every passing second, and you breathed heavily, not sure of what to do.

“I’ll pay you a generous salary to do that” and with that, you nodded even more feverishly, the idea making you feel repulsed, but something about the way he touched you and talked to you made your insides pulse. “And I’ll use you as I please, got it?”

Tommy smiled, moving your panties to the side and running the barrel up and down through your folds, making your heart run in circles on your chest, but you swallowed the fear, something about him having total control of you now made you feel even more attracted to him.

“I do, mr. Shelby” you chocked out, bitting your lip when he pushed the barrel inside of your slick hole, your hands coming to wrap themselves around his arms when you felt the weapon stretch your pussy out, closing your eyes in pure bliss.

With a dry chuckle from him, he started pumping in and out the gun from your cunt, and you mouth hanged open as you tried to find some kind of steadiness by grabbing his arms. He noticed the gun get slippery by how wet you were, and his eyes were fixed on how your nipples were showing through the fabric of your pretty dress.

A loud click from the gun made you open your eyes, but that didn’t stop the way your hips jerked against his relentlessly movements, the fear mixing with the pure pleasure you felt— and he, with those cold, blue eyes of his examining you, had you right there where he wanted you from the moment he saw those big and hot tears leave those eyes of yours. At his full and complete mercy. For him to use and abuse.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, working the gun even faster, sensing how agitated he had you, the sight of you being completely lost at the feeling making him laugh a little. “You are a good little whore”

You nodded, your hands traveling to his shoulders as you had spread your legs even further, begging for him to not stop, the sound of your whimpers fulfilling him, doing unspeakable things to Tommy that you didn’t even imagine, but you would find out any time soon.

“You are, yeah?” he continued, and then you thought he would go easier, he trusted the gun more aggressively, making sinful sounds that made you blush at how wet you were, and then he leaned down, yanking your hair harder than before when he clashed his lips with yours.

You moaned into the kiss, letting him move his lips against your open mouth, your tongues dancing with each other at the rhythm of the forbidden song your body played everytime the gun entered and slipped outside of you, making your way through your orgasm.

His lips were soft against yours, his teeth making the slightest contact with your lower lip, the way he kissed you so tenderly made your stomach twist even more, pressing your eyes shut as you could feel your insides twitch and squeeze against the gun.

When he pulled away, you looked for his lips again only to find a teasing smile from him in return, one that made you feel tiny in his arms. And when you were about to beg for more, he pushed the barrel even deeper, only a moan coming out of your lips.

“Your body will be only mine to use” he whispered against your mouth, and by how hard he was pulling your hair, you feared that he would rip it out of your scalp. “You’re my property now, do you understand?”

You nodded, not wanting him to stop, your tongue pocking out of your mouth by how much you were moaning, a sigh of relief leaving your when his hand freed your hair, only to grip your jaw, keeping your mouth open. You knitted your eyebrows in confusion, one that was erased away when you felt his cold saliva on your tongue after he spited on it, closing your mouth with his hand to make you swallow it.

“Such a pretty girl” he whispered, moving the weapon even faster, fucking you mercilessly with it. “Going to come? Cream my gun?”

You nodded, moaning desperately as you could feel your climax approaching, pressing your body against his when you knew that your orgasm was close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pulled you by the arm and bent you over the desk, pushing your dress out of the way as he kneeled over, admiring the way your pussy sucked the barrel of the gun so heavenly, switching the angle so suddenly that it made you see stars.

“So good, you’re doing so good” he moaned out, spreading your folds with his other hand to have a more clear view of your swollen cunt, bitting his lip at how soaked it was, his mouth practically watering at the sight.

“Mr. Shelby” you moaned, closing your eyes as you could feel drool dripping from your mouth, wetting the papers he had on his desk. “Mr. Shelby, I’m close”

He smiled, licking his lips as he leaned in, his hand still fucking you with the gun in a pace that made you shake, shiver and scream. He was rough, unforgiving and brisk with his movements, so it surprised you when you felt the tenderness of his lips suck so gently on your pulsating and unattended clit.

The moan that left your lips was so loud, that you would hear surprised if Lizzie Shelby hadn’t heard you on the outsides of the office by now. And you couldn’t care, because with Tommy doing God’s work on your pussy like that, even if your sister died now, you wouldn’t give a fuck.

You arched your back against his face, moving your hips erratically against the gun, feeling your orgasm finally unleash and hit you with an animalistic force, painting his gun white as you soaked up his face, and he drank it all, thirsty for you.

“Oh, God” you mewled, bitting your lip, never feeling something so intense before. He let go of your clit with a loud sound of his lips, chuckling when he heard you.

He shook his head, helping you ride out your orgasm, moving the gun more slowly before finally pulling it out. He was going to take good care of you, and you felt relieved; he was going to save your sister, and also, fuck you so good.

“Don’t call for him, sweetheart” he said, and you looked up at him in confusion from your position in the desk. Your heart sinked in your chest while your stomach churned with excitement when he put the gun beside you on the desk and began to unbuckle his belt. “God won’t hear you here, only I will”

thanks for reading, w/ love, fenina 😌

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #feninina #cillian murphy x oc #tommy shelby x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby smut

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captain-mj · 7 months

Note

So I got an idea I need to share-

Banshee Soap? I know Banshees are technically female but I'm just in love with the idea of Soap being a banshee in disguise and him having to reveal that in order to save Ghost or something-

Sorry I just needed to share this :)

I love this!! Sure! I feel it fix October vibes.

Ghost had heard the wailing of the spirits before. They were there the night Roba buried him alive. Howling and screaming at him. Wanting to get to him.

They had silenced once he had burst out of the dirt, but they had watched. He had no proof. Had not seen a damn thing. But he knew something was out there observing him. They had watched him shake each bug off of his skin.

He had heard men talk about the war as an entity. A being that screamed and called people to their deaths. Maybe they had been crazy. Ghost preferred that thought. Quite a bit actually.

But another part liked the guarantee that he wouldn't be dying alone. That no matter what, something would be out there for him. Watching him. Observing him.

Tonight, on this roof, he accepted that he'd hear those spirits again.

Soap sat next to him, guarding the entrances so Ghost could try to snipe who he could in relative safety. Someone kept trying to snipe him back, but they had just managed to hit the lip of the roof so far. But they were moving, making it hard to pinpoint where they were.

There were too many people. They weren't going to last forever. Ghost was running out of bullets. Soap's gun didn't have the range. The element of surprise had been lost hours ago.

He sighed. His biggest regret would be that Soap was going to die along with him.

Ghost refused to show fear though. "Just keep shooting Johnny. We'll get out of here."

Soap smiled at him. "Course we will, Lt. You're doi-"

A gunshot whizzed past their ears and Ghost quickly got back on his sniper. He sent a gunshot right through him, watching them fall down. Not the one that was moving, but they were a little safer. Ghost slowly let out a breath and relaxed.

Soap hesitated and looked at Ghost. "Lt?"

"Don't look at me like that. Just keep watching."

Soap frowned at him.

Someone whistled. Low and long.

Ghost heard the spirits.

"You religious, Johnny?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Guess neither of is going to pray."

Soap hesitated, stepping a little closer. "Sim-"

That sniper Ghost had been fighting with. The bullet went straight him. Blood splattered on the ground.

Soap stumbled but he didn't fall. He just stood there, blood dripping down. The next bullet went through his head and Ghost covered his face.

He didn't want to see.

How selfish.

But he didn't want to see.

The spirits. They screamed so loud and so long. Ghost scrambled to cover his ears and he tried to breath. Something was wrong. There was so much blood on the roof. It had to be an inch thick and it kept coming.

Ghost tried to stand up but the moment he wasn't covering his ears, pain would lance through him. The sound tried to drive itself all the way into his skull. Clawing his eardrums and worming its way into his brain until his temples were pounding.

The glass on his helmet fully shattered and Ghost started to scream himself. Anything to drown out the noise.

It started to hit him that Johnny was dead.

His partner.

His best friend.

Ghost screamed louder. Until the earth itself felt like it was tearing.

His hands felt wet.

Slowly, he started to pull his hands away, planning to just let his eardrums bust. Maybe let his brain hemorrhage.

Hands grabbed his and slammed them back over his ears. Someone straddled him, head butting against his so their foreheads sat together.

Ghost squeezed his eyes tighter and waited.

Time moved like honey through his fingers. Slow and languid but steady.

"Simon."

Ghost took a steady breath.

"Johnny?"

Soap was pressed them closer together. "Just breath. Your head must be killing you."

Ghost opened his eyes.

Soap was there. Gorgeous, but not solid.

Ghost stared.

"Sorry about that, Lt. Didn't mean to hurt you. Just keep your ears covered and keep your eyes on me."

Ghost shook his head slowly and looked.

Bodies. Dozens. Helmets shattered. Blood pooling out of the orifices in their face.

He tasted blood, realizing it was his own. Judging by the sun, hours had passed.

Ghost swallowed and shivered, feeling an intense cold.

Soap stood up, feet barely touching the ground. "Don't tell Price. Please."

"Kill me if I do?"

"Nae. Could never kill you Ghostie." Soap carefully helped Ghost get his helmet off. Broken shards of it falling out. He watched him lift his mask up and then off, blood smearing. "Let me get the blood out of your hair."

Ghost nodded and sipped the canteen of water he had on hand. Soap gently started to get the blood out of his hair. Gentle and loving. He kissed Ghost's forehead. "I'm sorry for hurting you. Are you okay?"

Ghost had a lot of feelings. Okay was not one of them.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What are you?"

"Banshee. There's a reason I never had a problem clearing out places when I was alone." Soap gently combed his fingers through his hair. "You're okay. I promise."

Ghost nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm okay..."

"You're okay." Soap said softly. "Try not to do this since usually it kills my companions but... I was pretty sure you'd be fine."

"Was dead anyway."

"Exactly. I had to take the risk. You'd either die or... maybe not die." Soap smiled at him.

Ghost nodded. "Glad you took the chance. Even if my ears are still ringing."

Soap laughed and offered his hand to help him up. They both stared for a moment.

Ghost realized he didn't have his mask and it must've showed.

"Don't worry. No living humans for miles. You're perfectly safe."

"There's you."

"Yeah. There's me."

Ghost took a deep breath, feeling it shudder in his chest. "anything I should know about banshees?"

"To see them usually brings misfortune, but I turned that off for you."

"Touching you is... fine?"

"Yeah, of course. Nothing different from before today."

Ghost nodded and slowly reached up. Soap went solid again beneath his fingers. He gently trailed his fingers over his cheek, smearing the blood.

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Simon, we should be going. This is going to be hard to explain."

Ghost nodded and followed him.

He was pretty sure he'd never quite get rid of the tinnitus.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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draculasfavoritewife · 17 days

Text

No Word For Hero

Summary: You love him and the way he will always be your protector, but sometimes facing the truth is the most terrifying thing of all.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares and discussions of death. The one-two punch of angst and fluffiness all in one. This one is a fair bit more somber than my other Mando stuff.

Another trope I will never ever get tired of -- the "having a nightmare while sleeping with your partner" routine! 🥳 Gets me in my feels every time, particularly with a character like Din who (to me at least) canonically also has frequent nightmares. I first drafted this one a couple summers ago as a result of all my feelings after that big moment in "The Marshal", as I'm sure will be obvious.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

It's coming, exploding up from beneath the billowing sands, looming over everyone, titanic, monstrous, ravenous....

...He turns to you, ever so briefly, tilts his head in that meaningful look you know all too well...that damn look that means he's going to play hero again.

Damn his altruism.

When is he going to stop?

You already know that answer, too. It lurks forever in the back of your mind, awake or asleep, always whispering there, a constant venom ever deepening its grasp around your heart until one day the cold reality finally breaks it.

He'll stop when he finally doesn't come back to you.

When he's at last granted the warrior's death you know he desires.

Only then.

You can't even scream as he disappears down the dragon's throat, too frozen with horror to make a sound....

You bolt upright, gasping for breath, damp hair clinging to your face and tears running down, their salty tang sharp on your lips.

Stupid nightmares.

"Go away," you mutter, rubbing harshly at your eyes. "Just stop."

The cot is small, realistically much too small for two adults, and your distress is painfully evident to the man sharing it with you, whose arm has just been violently dislodged from its place around your torso.

"Bad dream?"

He sounds tired. He hardly ever sleeps through a full night at the best of times, and even then it's rarely a deep sleep.

If the old saying "sleep with one eye open" were actually true, Din would be its personification.

You curse your overactive mind a second time, for disturbing his precious few moments of rest along with your own.

"I'm fine." You don't lie back down, instead pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms tightly around them. Normally you find his quarters chilly, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes the room suddenly feel close and stuffy.

He shifts against you in the dark, no doubt to study your posture. "You don't sound fine."

You sigh. "I will be. You should try and get some sleep, Din."

You hear him lean back into the wall, a long exhale betraying stiffness somewhere in his muscles.

You've offered him the side of the bed that's not right up against the wall, but to your surprise he actually likes to be pressed closely between your body and the solidness of metal at his back.

You suspect it gives him a sense of security in a life that holds so little for him.

"I'm sorry I woke you," you add before he can speak again.

"You didn't." His revelation is cool and distant, as if his lack of rest means nothing to him. "I haven't slept at all tonight."

You turn to stare at him in dismay, only to be met with the void of deep darkness. "Why didn't you --"

"What? Wake you up to tell you I can't sleep?" Somehow you know he's shaking his head at you. "That fixes nothing, Cyar'ika. My sleep was disturbed since long before we met." His voice softens as he reaches for you, his large, comfortingly familiar hand stroking down your side. "But when I have you in my arms, listening to your breathing, I can at least find some peace. And that is often enough."

You let out another shuddering breath and gaze out into the dim compartment, the images from your nightmare replaying over and over behind your eyes like a holovid stuck on loop.

"I think I need some air," you murmur.

"Take my shirt, then." You're grateful he doesn't try to stop you; he knows you were taking care of yourself for a long time before you two struck up your partnership. He trusts you to look out for danger.

"Vor'e, Cyare." You slide from the bed, his fingers trailing away from your hip as you break from his gentle touch. He watches as you blindly take his shirt from the pile of clothes left on the floor and pull it over your head, pausing only to grab a vibroblade before exiting his quarters.

"I'll come back," you promise softly.

And the words sting deep down as they leave your lips, knowing that one day, one of you might not be able to keep that promise.

The night is cool and clear on this planet, and the breeze smells like living growth from the thick woods nearby. It's a far cry from the dust and smoke of so many of the worlds you've stayed on before, and soon you start to calm down, heartbeat returning to normal and perspiration drying at the wind's light touch. Everything is peaceful around you, the night birds calling and water flowing somewhere behind the trees.

Not for the first time, your thoughts stray towards the impossibility of trying to stay somewhere like this place, to drop everything you know and carve out a life on a frontier planet somewhere. You and Din and Grogu, living modestly and secretly away from the prying eyes of the Imperials or the Jedi, pretending at normalcy....

There's the key word.

Pretending.

You've played many parts since you lost your buir so many years ago. Dancer in the clubs of the Core worlds, thief, animal wrangler, pilot, hired gun. You could adapt, you feel fairly certain. It's the skill that's most reliably kept you alive this long.

But Din....

He's so deeply entrenched in his upbringing. His honor, and the hunt, mean everything to him. Whatever else he tries to be, he will always be the Mandalorian first and foremost. The Way runs through his veins, thicker than blood, and the fierce heart of a warrior beats beneath the beskar.

It's why he will ultimately always make sacrifices to keep those under his protection safe.

It's who he is. His identity.

The reason that one day he might not emerge from the belly of the beast in triumph.

And you love him, exactly the way he is. You'd never ask him to change.

But Maker, sometimes the knowledge of what that means hurts deeper than any physical wound.

So you stand there at the edge of the woods and let the tears come, let the sobs wrack your body as you bury yourself deeper in his comforting shirt, praying that the day never comes that all you have left are memories and clothes that smell like him.

Eventually, your grief runs its course and you can breathe once again. The crunch of footsteps in the damp grass warrants a side glance, but as you thought, it's only your beroya, come to check on you, no doubt.

"You've been out here a long time," he remarks.

"Had a lot on my mind."

He encircles you in his arms from behind, chin resting in the dip of your shoulder. You're surprised that he didn't replace his helmet to come out here, but sunrise is still a long way off.

"I'm usually the one with the nightmares," he teases softly. "This one must have been rough. Want to talk?"

You find his hands at your waist, interlock your fingers with his.

"I lost someone. Someone very important to me."

Turning slightly so you can rest your cheek against his, you kiss the very edge of his lips. "It scares me, Din."

He's quiet for some time, and you try to imagine the expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers. "I can't give you anything but my word that I will always try my hardest to come back to you. That is what fuels me, ner'kar'ta. The fire in my blood, the strength in my bones, is knowing that I need to make it back for you. But I realize that it is a double-edged blade. Because it also means I would give everything, to keep you safe in the end."

"I know, Din. I remember what my buir used to tell me, you know, how we have no word for 'hero' in our mother tongue, because to be Mando'ade is to risk all for the ones you love. I know I'm so selfish." You turn all the way around at last, hiding your face in his bare chest. "But I accept your vow. And it will have to be enough."

Collecting yourself and finally raising your haunted gaze to his, you manage a small smile. "But I will fight for you, Din Djarin. Death will find one hell of a struggle when it finally comes for you, I can promise you that."

"There's my girl." The fond grin in his voice is audible. "Now, will you come back to bed? It's getting lonesome in there."

You let him lead you back to the ship, and the sigh of the wind now seems to promise to whisk your fears away for the time being.

The door slides shut behind you, and you shiver, realizing all of a sudden just how cold you are. His shirt is a welcome barrier against the biting chill, and you wonder how he was able to get along without it outside.

"Cold?" he asks.

"Yes." You reach out for him, wordlessly begging for his warmth.

He sidesteps you and folds his arms across his chest. "Take it off," he demands, and indicates the shirt with a nod, husky voice brimming with humor and a shade of something hungrier. "Or I will."

You hug the worn fabric closer to your body and shake your head mutinously. "But it's the only thing keeping me warm!"

"So you've chosen the hard way." He crosses the small space in a couple of long strides and starts to tease the garment off of you, bit by agonizing bit. "And how dare you let a piece of clothing do a man's job."

"You're making me cold again," you complain as he pulls you into bed with him, the hunter retreating back to his lair to finish off his fortunate prey.

"Then honor dictates I repair the damage I've caused," he hums, and you surrender to the bliss of being completely enveloped in his embrace. Din has always run hot, ever since you started sleeping together, and his warmth and familiar weight are so much better than any sweet dream of yours could be.

In the here and now, he's still alive, and he's still yours.

There will be no more tears tonight.

"Better?" he growls into your throat.

You run your fingers through his thick curls, sighing at the way he always manages to banish all of your dark thoughts away. And maybe now there will even be time for him to get some sleep before morning as well.

"I am now."

Vor'e = Thank you

Buir = Parent

Beroya = Bounty Hunter

Ner'kar'ta = My heart

Mando'ade = Child of Mandalore

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