#every day i wake up thinking about how we were nearly killed out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joeybsversion · 8 months

Text

Strangers

Joe Burrow x Reader

You and Joe try to work things out

“Dear Me,” you scribbled into your journal, humming along to the soft music at the coffee shop. “He’s leaving for the NFL, you still have one more year of college. Let him go. He will find bigger and better things than you. Let him find a nice girl he can bring to games. There will be someone he can be happy with. Yes, he’s sweet, and caring, and handsome, but he is also grown up.” You set your pen down, taking a sip of your coffee, hoping it would help the lump in your throat disappear.

The door of the coffee shop quietly swung open. You glanced up, as you always did out of curiosity. You know what they say, curiosity kills the cat. At that exact moment, you were the cat. Joe walked in, with confidence, in a jacket you had gotten him a few months ago. He smiled at strangers around him, and then gave you the same smile. That’s when you realized, you were now a stranger to him.

You quickly flung the front cover of your leather journal shut, stuffed your pen into your purse, and did anything to make yourself look busy. Two hands quickly met the top of the table you were sitting at.

“Hey.” Joe cleared his throat.

“Oh, hey.” You looked down, doing your best to make sure he couldn’t see the tears that had formed in your eyes as you wrote about him just moments earlier.

“Writing?” He asked, pulling out the chair across from you and taking a seat.

“Studying.” You lied.

You sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Both of you searching for the right words to say. You hadn’t seen Joe in nearly 3 months now. And it had been some of the most emotionally draining 3 months of your life. Neither of you really officially ended things, but you both knew. “Goodbye.” “I love you.” “I’m sorry.” “Good luck.”

“Can we talk?” Joe croaked out.

“I don’t think there’s really much to say.”

“I’m sorry.” He reached over and grabbed your hands. “Please, just give me a minute. I need closure.”

You hated that word. Somewhere in the back of your brain, you hoped he would promise you a future and things would go back to the way they were. But here he was, confirming that things were officially over.

“It’s been 76 days. I’ve spent every single one thinking about you.” He brushed his thumb across the top of your hand as he spoke. “I thought I knew what I wanted. Becoming an NFL quarterback. Being the most popular, most liked person in the room. I thought those things would make me happy. And they did….temporarily. But you,” he paused, clearing his throat, “You’re the only thing that could make me happy forever.”

You choked out a little half laugh, half sob. “Please don’t say stuff like that. We both know it’s not true.” You shook your head.

“Please don’t play the victim and act like I’m the bad guy.” Joe scoffed, the tone in his voice quickly changing. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that said things weren’t going to work.”

“What was I supposed to say when you said you were leaving?” You pulled your hands away from his. “Don’t leave? I love you?” You questioned.

He shrugged and let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Okay? But I thought you’d say something.”

“I’m sorry.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, the anger in his voice was making you nervous.

“Do you want to try again?” He asks barely loud enough for you to hear him.

You can’t answer, your throat is too thick with emotion.

“If you want me to beg, I will. If you want me to jump through flaming hoops, then bring them on. I’ll spend every waking hour I have until I have to report to training camp proving to you how badly I want you.” He looked away, blinking back a few tears.

You felt your own lips start to tremble. His words are painful and beautiful at the same time.

“Every word is the truth. I want you back. I can’t imagine starting this new journey without you.” He said. “I fucked up letting you go. I still love you.”

You swallow a sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine will fill you with the right words to say. “Even though I have another year of College left?”

He smiles. “My rookie year is going to be chaotic, and busy. It’ll be better for both of us if you’re busy too, dontcha think?”

He makes a fair point.

“We can make it work. I know we can. The question is, do you want to try again?” He pauses. “Do you want me?”

You can see the fear that you might reject him in his eyes. His hands are trembling on the table. His breathes are shallow and quick. The one thing he is confident about though, is wanting to make things work with you.

“I want you.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram #nfl imagine #nfl fic #nfl fan fic #nfl fluff #nfl smut

281 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 11 months

Text

YOU’RE LOSING ME — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is struggling to grasp the fact that she and jack have grown apart amongst his newfound nhl stardom

warnings: angst, neglectful jack, dying relationship, long intro (so sorry), alcohol

specific lyrics: “remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light. now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time” and “how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?” and “how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier. fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me. i'm the best thing at this party (you're losin' me). and i wouldn't marry me either; a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her. and I'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing" (i got nothing) "to believe, unless you're choosin' me"”

notes: idk how i feel about this. it’s been awhile since i’ve written an actual fic so i think my writing is a little rusty. there will be no part 2 to this one! i know y’all love when i make part 2’s to my angsty fics, but some fics i just wanna keep as angst and this is one of them <3

maybe we were naïve. young and innocent in thinking our love would last forever. that we could withstand everything the universe had to throw at us.

i could give us this; we did last past Jack’s rookie year. but maybe that’s when things started breaking. i couldn’t tell you for certain.

when we moved to New Jersey, we were going on three years into our relationship. we thought that milestone of three years meant we would be together forever.

we went apartment hunting, i opted to go into online schooling rather than on campus classes, late night whispers consisted of marriage and future children.

now, the last time i even brought up marriage, he told me he wasn’t ready for that. that he was at the peak of his career and didn’t want to spend time that could be used bettering his skills, to plan a wedding.

i spend most nights in an empty bed, the cold sheets serving as a harsh reminder that my boyfriend would rather go out with his teammates than spend time with me.

rather than the past early mornings of soft loving stares and cuddling on his bare chest, i now spend my mornings glaring towards my boyfriends sleeping figure; trying to calculate when he may have gotten home after i had already fallen asleep.

seven years. one-third of my life, spent with Jack.

no one ever said love would be easy; but no one ever told me it would be this hard either.

the mug in my hands is at risk of breaking from my grip, the coffee inside having gone cold. a cruel euphemism to how our relationship has cooled. the burning fire that it once was, now fizzling to dying sparks. but i still hold onto what’s left, because i’m not sure i know how to live a life without him anymore.

i sit curled up on the sofa, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the New Jersey skyline. i still remember the day that Jack and i decided on this apartment, this room was a deciding factor. we loved the lighting, the way the sun shone through the windows and cast a golden haze over the rest of the apartment.

now i sit in the darkness nearly every night, wondering if this was the end of our relationship; if it’s time.

the worst part is that we keep going on. keep playing house. pretending that our relationship is still as happy as it once was.

‘i love you’s never became a rarity, still uttered past our lips multiple times a day. but i know his words only hold an empty promise now.

how can he say he loves me when he can’t tell that this relationship is killing me?

that this dynamic of our relationship becoming a chore has slowly broken me down?

our life is robotic now. we wake up, he leaves for practice, i stay home, i do school, he comes home for a pre-game nap, he leaves for a game, i still stay home, i go to bed, he comes home, repeat.

even worse when he’s away. what once started as facetime calls whenever he was free on a roadie, slowly died until it’s nothing but a few measly unsubstantial texts.

at first i thought maybe we were just going through a rough patch, that we would get through this, but now i fear we won’t.

***

my eyes track my boyfriend at the crowded rooftop bar as i nod my head, only half paying attention to what Ryleigh says.

Nico’s surprise party has been a success. for Nico, at least.

i, selfishly, thought i would use this party as an opportunity to grasp Jack’s attention. i wore the dress that he used to say was his favorite, but not once did he mention it. i curled my hair because i knew how much he loved it, but he didn’t compliment it how he usually does. i dolled myself up in hopes that it would glue him to my side. maybe even spark that possessiveness he used to hold for me.

but instead, all i got was a measly and empty ‘hey babe, you look nice.’ when i arrived, before he chased Dawson down to discuss some new bar he wanted to check out after their next win.

i spent the next hour following him around like a lost puppy, standing by his side as he spoke to his teammates. if he hadn’t had his hand resting on my lower back, i would’ve thought he forgot i was there. but somehow being forgotten would’ve felt better than being ignored.

i’m the best thing at this party, or at least i should be to him, and he barely spared me a second glance.

eventually, i saltily left to find the other wives and girlfriends. for the past three hours now, i sit with Ryleigh and Darya. Ryleigh is currently recounting she and Dawson’s date night last night.

the party has been dwindling down, our group of people among the bar slowly dispersing, giving their final birthday wishes to Nico and going home.

“what about you and Jack?”

“hmm?” i perk up at the mention of my boyfriend, dragging my line of sight away from said boy and back towards my friends.

“i asked about you and Jack. when was your guys’ last date night? how was it?” Ryleigh is only trying to be polite, i know that. but she’s only reminded me that Jack and i haven’t gone on a date in what has to be at least six months.

“honestly? i couldn’t tell you.” i confess. “i don’t even remember the last time we went on a date.”

“well, that’s not right! we should do a double date soon! i’ll have Dawson set it up.” she smiles. “ooh triple date! you and Yegor should come!”

“we’d love that!” Darya chimes in. i let out a polite smile, but i know it won’t happen. i’ve tried too many times to set up a date night and nothing ever comes from it.

“hey, baby. you ready to go?” Dawson saunters over, planting a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. Ryleigh nods, bidding Darya and i goodbye.

“hey, y/n? i think Jack was looking for you.” Yegor tells me as he comes over next, gathering his wife to leave for the night.

“he was?” my voice is filled with a pathetic hope, an excitement over even the thought of my boyfriend seeking me out. but when i look back to where i last saw him, he still stands next to his captain, laughing over something one of them said. “thanks, Shara.”

he smiles, the both of them now saying their goodbyes. and then there was one.

i sit by myself, lazily chewing the straw in my drink as i watch my boyfriend and his friend.

i quickly lose track of how long i sit there, ordering drink after drink. eventually, i stop watching Jack, opting for mindlessly scrolling through instagram instead.

“hey.” my head snaps up at Jack’s voice, watching as he finally joins me. my heart thumps in my chest, like i’m a teenager again, at the thought of spending time with him. “i think i’m ready to head home.”

my mood deflates, my shoulders slumping, but i nod, gathering my purse as Jack sets some cash on the bar top to cover my drinks from the night.

i wobble slightly as i stand, Jack’s hand coming up to hold onto my arm, making sure i don’t fall. heat spreads from the site of the touch, shivers racking my body.

“you okay, babe?” he chuckles, pulling me into his side as we walk to the elevator, pressing the down button and waiting for it to arrive. “how much did you drink?”

“i don’t know. maybe three? i lost count after the first hour alone.” i shrug, my words are slurred, a product of my tipsy state. “i started off with sprite, but i switched to gin and tonics once Darya left.”

Jack is silent as we get into the elevator, his brows furrowed and him seemingly in deep thought. the whole ride home is quiet, the air charged. i spend the whole drive with my head turned to look out the window. but as soon as we reach the parking deck of our apartment, getting out of his Range Rover, he speaks up again.

“you could’ve come and found me? i was just with Nico.” i’m silent for a moment, picking up my pace to try and reach apartment faster.

“i didn’t feel like being ignored again.” i shrug as we step through the door, the alcohol giving me obvious courage that i never had before.

“what do you mean ‘again’? i haven’t ignored you.” Jack follows behind me into our bedroom, his eyes tracking me as i sit on the bed and begin unfastening my heels.

“stop.” i sigh.

“stop what? y/n/n, when have i ignored you?” his genuine obliviousness hurts more than i thought it could. the fact that he didn’t even realize he was ignoring me; that it was just a subconscious reaction for him to push me aside.

“every day.” i tell him. my eyes start stinging with tears, finally ready to have the fight that i’ve so desperately been avoiding. but it’s obvious that Jack doesn’t feel the same.

“i’m sorry you felt that way.” he tells me, barely sparing another glance my way before he starts grabbing pajamas out of the dresser.

“you’re losing me.” my words are choked out in a whisper, but i know he hears them because i watch as he stiffens, slowly turning around.

“what?”

“Jack, this doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore. it feels like a job. a chore.” i confess. “it doesn’t feel like you love me anymore and i need you to just say it. because i love you too much to keep going on like this.”

“y/n-”

“we barely talk, Jack.” i cut him off. “when we do, we’re struggling through empty small talk. you’re barely home, and when you are, you don’t try and spend time with me. i sit in this house, alone, even when you’re here.”

“what are you talking about? y/n, we’ve been together for almost seven years. we’ve been through so much together.” his words are harsh, defensive.

“exactly! i gave you all my best me’s- i gave you my teenage years, i gave you all of my best years! i gave you all my empathy when you were being called a bust. when you were struggling in your rookie year and at your lowest. i sat here and comforted you after every loss! i stayed here and cried and tried to be brave every time you were gone. i defended you to everyone!”

tears roll freely down my cheeks, my nose becoming stuffy and my throat tightening. i’ve risen from the bed now, still keeping my distance from him though.

“and what do i have to show for it? an empty apartment? an empty relationship? we used to spend hours talking about marriage and our future. now, the last time i tried to bring that up, you all but told me you didn’t want to marry me.” i scoff. “and i can’t blame you, i wouldn’t marry me either; a pathological people pleaser.”

“don’t say that, please.” he whispers.

“but all i wanted was for you to see me, Jack! i’m here! i have feelings! i know it’s hard to believe, but i’m a person too! i need love! not whatever this has been.” my words fade off at the end, breaking off into sobs.

Jack’s eyes are red, tears of his own slowly descending as we stand in silence.

“do something, please. say something.” i plead, furiously wiping at my tears. i swallow a lump in the throat as he finally takes a step forward.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is shaky, breaking midst sentence. “i’m so sorry i didn’t know you were feeling this way. i’ve been so wrapped up in hockey and the team that i haven’t been here. not fully, at least.

“i took you for granted. i guess you’ve been this dependable force in my life for so long that eventually i forgot that you need more than just my presence.

“i do love you, y/n. i can’t imagine my life without you. i’ll be better, i promise. just, please, don’t leave.” he begs.

Jack steps forward, closing the distance between us and taking my face in his hands.

“i need you. i’ll always choose you.” his hands shake on my cheeks as he pulls me into a kiss. he pulls away, heaving out a broken mix between a sigh and a sob. “i’m so so sorry.”

“we can fix us. i believe that. but please, don’t put me through this again.” i beg, laying my forehead against his.

“never.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

668 notes · View notes

hufflefluff-stuff · 11 months

Note

could you write HL characters reacting to MC passing out due to exhaustion?

Thanks for being the first to request!! :D

Notes: MC has established relationships with the characters (individually). And I only did three bc I had good ideas for these ones specifically

Characters: Ominis, Poppy, Amit

............

Ominis Gaunt

In the days following Sebastian casting Crucio on you in the scriptorium, it left lingering effects on your physical body.

You felt sharp aches and pains in your hands at random, which made your wand movements rather jerky.

You really should've been resting, but you've been receiving lots of owls lately, finding yourself being pulled in several different directions and (mistakenly) deciding that sleep wasn't important right now.

But the exhaustion catches up fast, as Ominis finds you passed out in the Undercroft, immediately panicking and thinking you got attacked.

After you're floo'd to the hospital wing, Madam Blainey looks after you while he tries to explain how he found you without exposing the secret hideaway.

She noted seeing "unusual" red sparks coming from your body, and for a moment his heart drops...and he forces himself to choke back tears upon realizing what's actually going on with you:

You're still feeling the aftereffects of Crucio..and never told him.

Merlin, he wishes you never took the full brunt of the curse. Why did it have to be you?

Somehow he managed to fall asleep, but when you wake up the next day, see your boyfriend, and gently squeeze his hand, he's wide awake too, relieved to no longer detect those sparks.

You claimed to be extremely tired from all the errands you've been running....but when he asks you if "it" still hurts, you realize there's no playing dumb this time.

So you relent and explain the aches and pains, quickly reassuring him they're gone.

Yet nothing you could say in that moment mattered, as it didn't stop him from silently breaking down, laying his head in your lap as tears spilled from his glazed eyes.

This is extremely unlike him, but he can't help it...knowing that the same curse which traumatized him all those years ago was now hurting the one he loved most.

Not to mention you're giving more and more of yourself away to people you hardly knew without considering putting your own well-being first.

He never sees you anymore, and it hurts him.

"Don't you get it? You're killing yourself, MC, and...i-it's killing me, too." He sounds completely shattered. "Is this what it takes for you to finally understand?"

"No, no..you're right. This never should've happened. I'm sorry, love." Frowning in guilt, you pet his hair comfortingly, realizing how much you've neglected him. "You have every right to be angry."

"..I'm not angry. I just...I-I wish we never went down there. I should've stopped Sebastian from-"

"He's not to blame. Don't go yelling at him now." You chuckle softly, before promising him a date to Three Broomsticks as an apology..

Along with you swearing to stop doing favors for strangers.

He calms down after that, still vowing to yell at Sebastian later on.

But he's looking forward to that date.

Poppy Sweeting

You were both venturing through the Forbidden Forest, on a mission to rescue an injured golden unicorn that was supposedly spotted.

Apparently someone noticed it limping around, sporting a deep gash in its leg and leaving a bloody trail.

Poppy figured it narrowly escaped a trap, which was confirmed after you stumbled upon a mechanism tainted in blood.

Time was now of the essence, as some poacher could capture it first, or worse...it could die from its injury.

Despite the sun having set long ago, you insisted on searching even if it took you both all night long.

While Poppy could keep up with you (even tho she worried about the curfew), your energy was nearly spent as you've been out raiding poacher camps and freeing caged beasts all day long, not having returned to the castle once to rest nor eat.

You had plenty of wiggenweld potions, but unfortunately they didn't cure exhaustion.

Obviously you weren't gonna tell your girlfriend that, so you continued tracking down the golden unicorn.

And eventually you discovered it peacefully grazing in a foggy meadow, with Poppy gazing in awe.

"How majestic!" She whispers excitedly. "Now to catch it...we can try Leviosa, but it might panic. Glacius could work, too...though it seems cruel to freeze a unicorn. Hmm, what do you think......MC??"

She turns to you and sees you on the ground, not moving.

At first she freaks out, until she realized you still have a pulse, but she knew you had to get back to the castle ASAP. The forest was no place for a nap!

Fortunately, Highwing was in your nab-sack, so you both got back there in one piece, where you recuperated in the hospital wing.

Madam Blainey noted sleep deprivation, and while Poppy's upset that you didn't listen to her, she can't be entirely angry with you.

She knows you've been stretching yourself thin, saving all these beasts on top of your other escapades.

That being said, she literally had to push you back into bed so you didn't bolt out of it after remembering what happened before you passed out.

"But the golden unicorn..!" You panic. "He was right there! Now we'll never find out where-!"

"It's okay, MC! I saved him. He's safe and sound in the vivarium." She hastily reassures you, showing you a few strands of golden unicorn hair as proof. "We'll go once you feel better."

You calm down after seeing the strands, before you smile and embrace her tightly. "I'm so lucky to have you, Poppy."

"I am, too,love...I'm glad you value the health and well-being of beasts, but that shouldn't take priority over your own. We can't help them if we don't help ourselves first."

"..you're right, I'm sorry. I'll try to remember that."

Amit Thakkar

All of your escapades inside and outside the castle had you drained and exhausted. You wish you had more time for yourself nowadays.

But people needed you: friends, students from your house, professors, townsfolks, goblinkind....you couldn't just ignore their requests for help.

Who else but you had such bravery and ancient magic skills? Nobody. It had to be you.

You've kept your missions secret from your boyfriend, claiming you're only out all the time to look for astronomy tables...which is partially true.

After what happened in the goblin mine, Amit was left shaken for a few days, and you felt guilty for practically dragging him into that mess just because you needed him to translate some things.

So when he sent you an owl asking you to come by an astronomy table located in a field of grass without explanation, you abandoned your current mission and headed there straight away, anxious about what he wanted to discuss.

As it turns out, he knew you were doing more than just observing constellations...but he wasn't mad at you for keeping secrets.

Rather, he knew you needed a break and invited you out here to get away from everything.

He had a blanket that you two laid on together, watching the stars; not for any assignment in particular, but just because the sky was especially clearer and pretty tonight and he didn't want you to miss that.

"I like coming here when I feel like there's too much weighing down on me all at once. My studies, my responsibilities...they can get overwhelming." He sighs, turning to you. "I'm certain you feel the same way, my dear."

"Amit, this is lovely..and...I appreciate it more than you know. But Lodgok needs me to-"

"He can wait." His voice is firm, unusual for the typically calm and passionate Ravenclaw. But his gestures are the opposite as he wraps his arm around you. "Let's stay here a while, MC..and just...forget about the world. At least for tonight. I guarantee you will feel much better...and you'll shine twice as bright tomorrow."

You agree to stay, but only because you're weak to his sappy and poetic remarks.

And you close your eyes, listening to his soft ramblings of the moon's current phase and what it all meant.

While his fascination with the cosmos keeps him wide awake for some time, he sees you passed out on the blanket minutes later and smiles lightly, relieved that he helped you find some peace.

You promised to protect him down in the mines...now it's his turn to protect you as you slept, ensuring no person nor beast bothers you.

#hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #poppy sweeting #poppy sweeting x reader #amit thakkar x reader #amit thakkar #angst #hurt/comfort #headcanons

764 notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 7 months

Text

Lime Green. (Soap.)

!CW! NSFW, fluff, flirting, babiessss (sorry if I missed any.)

Lime Green is the mix of apple flavored liquor that sat in your glass, it was sweet, almost too sweet. His eyes have been drawn to you since you came inside the bar. He’s been eyeing you all night. It takes a good buzz for him to finally approach you, needing the liquid courage. You’re sat at the bar with your friends when he comes up to you, and the flirty smile you give him as he comes over tells him everything he needs to know already.

Lime Green is the color of marker you’d written your number on his hand with. He sees it the next morning, waking up with a pounding headache. You weren’t the type of girl to take someone home on the first night but didn’t hesitate to give him your number. He waited until mid day to call you, which caught you off guard. You figured he’d text you. He talked sweet over the phone, convincing you to go on another date with him. This was going to be the first of many dates, but you didn’t know it yet.

Lime Green is the color of your fluffy socks he’d bought you. They’d come in a pack of 5, all different neon colors. They were meant to be a joke but you actually wore them. Not knowing just how much it meant to Johnny. Although, your tone of voice when you called him over had him worrying, rushing to get to you. Only to find you standing in the doorway, tears streaming down your face. Grief too much to handle after having lost someone close to you. Johnny was there by your side for every single second of healing. Picking you up and bringing you up to your bedroom so you could cry it out with him there.

Lime Green is the bright keychain attached to the keys of your new house, the realty company printed in bold white text over the green. The countless hours of moving the both of your houses into one, starting your lives together officially. You’ll never forget the way he picked you up and spun you around in the empty living room. Excitement too much to handle for him. “This is so amazing.” He smiles, looking around. “Yeah, it really is. I can’t believe this is happening.” You laugh.

Lime Green is the color of that dreadful maternity shirt his mum had gotten you to wear for your baby shower, hearing Johnny complaining about how his shirts are always dirty because none of your own clothes fit you. You cried when you put it on. He tried not to laugh, it doesn’t look bad, but you think it does. After the baby shower, you stood in the mirror, picking apart your outfit. “Come here, lass.” He rolls his eyes, sitting at the end of your bed. You waddle your way over to him. “I think you look perfect. You could wear the most awful color out there and still pull it off.” He smiles. You roll your eyes. “You’re so full of shit Johnny.” You sigh. He pulls you in close, running his hands down your pregnant belly. “You look beautiful. I mean I prefer you in nothing, but..” he laughs when you punch his shoulder.

Lime Green is the color of the Halloween Costume your son sprints around in, you’re sweaty and tired. You’ve got a baby on your hip and a little boy that keeps tripping you up, leaving toys all over the house. “Johnny! Come on! We have to take him by your mums house or she’ll be upset.” You yell out to him, he emerges from the stairs, wearing a costume similar to your sons. “Dad!” He yells, slamming right into Johnny’s leg. “Steamin’ Jesus, you’re gonna take out a knee my boy.” He laughs, lifting him up. You turn away to finish dressing your daughter. When you turn back, you hear your son laughing hysterically and Johnny is holding him by his ankles upside down. “Good god, you’re gonna kill him.” You roll your eyes. He sets him down. “No, but. Look at you.” He smiles, taking your daughter out of your hands and looking at her. “Look at you, my little princess.” He smiles, rubbing his nose over hers, hearing her giggle. “A lil ladybug hm?” He smiles, setting her down. She waddles off, your son nearly knocking her over. You sigh. “You look beautiful too.” He smiles. “Thank you, you look.. amazing.” You poke his toned stomach through his superhero costume. “Yeah right. I gotta be doing something right, no way we’d have two of these little ones running around if it wasn’t true.” He winks, seeing you roll your eyes. “Oh yeah. The costume just does it for me.” You roll your eyes. And actually.. I think you mean three.” You laugh, looking down. It takes him a second. “Wait… what?” He asks. “Are you serious?” He moves closer, seeing you nod. He pulls you in for a kiss, rubbing a hand over your stomach. “We should be the incredibles next year.” He smiles. “Oh my god Johnny!” You roll your eyes.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish

202 notes · View notes

z3nitsusgf · 2 years

Note

Homelander-soulmate angst coming your way! There is nothing better than when a villainous character gets a taste of regret, remorse, and sadness.

I can imagine Homelander going a bit too far one day to keep his soulmate in line one day after a misunderstanding makes it look like they were trying to run. He responds by pushing them back- which has the reader flying across the room. The breath is knocked out of them and they’re unconscious. HL panics as he realizes just how much he loves them (re: relies on them) and doesn’t want them to die. He also is regretful because the reader wasn’t trying to run at all.

They wake up in a hospital bed, and HL is all teary eyed and remorseful - trying to get the reader to forgive him so that they can “move past this.” He goes from not caring what they want or think, to being overly doting. He gets stressed out when he sees the reader doing things for themselves, and insists they should be recovering.

He is also experiencing his own angst at having his soulmate flinch every time he reaches for them. And he’s not sure whether he wants to make them a supe or just take them away from society, in a secret house somewhere.

Reader isn’t sure how long it’s going to last and can’t escape the feeling that there’s something else going on, especially when HL spends a long time talking to their doctor, and Vought scientists.

Bonus points if the reader loses their empathy after the head injury 😈

gripping my hair, this is so &*@^($*(

I was just thinking about what would happen if he accidentally killed his soulmate because let's face it - he hurts you, whether by accident or on purpose. He's unstable, and after Madelyn and Ryan, he just can't help himself. So you know what it's like to have to go to Vought nurses, you know what broken wrists feel like. You know what his burn marks can do, the scarred scorched flesh on your shoulder proves it.

But I do think if a misunderstanding happened he'd be more irritated than anything. Why didn't you just tell him you were going out to get dinner for him? It’s your fault for acting so suspicious, he was only trying to keep you in line - protect you from the real bad guys out there. He didn’t mean to slam you so hard, you’re just so weak - all it takes is a mild-mannered shove and you’re crashing into the glass table. It’s so forceful and powerful you think your lungs cave in on impact. Flashes of him gripping your throat fade into your bleeding mind, but to be honest you don’t remember much from passing out because of the pain.

Of course, when you don’t get up there’s a panicky feeling in his throat. He’s looking down at you and his fingers twitch, why aren’t you getting up? You look so soft, crumpled on the shattered glass and with rings of bruise-shape fingertips on your neck, he can hardly hear your pulse and that makes him want to vomit. But it’s so clear to him when the bag of food rests on the counter, his favorite sitting in the small styrofoam container. His lips tug down and he bites his cheek, you’re so sweet to him even when you shouldn’t be.

He tries to rationalize it in his head after while he sits beside your hospital bed (provided by Vought of course, we can't have the public knowing he battered nearly killed his soulmate). Hands smoothing over his face as he stares at your body, hooked up to wires and IV, he’ll feel that pinch in his chest. I think at that moment he realizes how truly fragile you are. Delicate like a baby bird, brittle bones and paper-thin skin that splits so easily if he applies too much pressure.

When doctors tell him you might not wake, or that you might be scatter-brained from the head injury - he rages. Tearing apart his apartment and flying out into the city to cause havoc. He burns down the restaurant where you got the food. It’s the first time ever he’s ever felt like he could lose.

Homelander acts uncanny when you open your eyes for the first time. Kneeling next to your bed and pressing peppered kisses on your face, he’s muttering things like “You’re okay, I’m here.” and “I thought you weren’t gonna come back to me.” While cupping your face and nuzzling his cheeks to yours. It’s not until he feels you trembling and gasping with unrestrained sobs that he realizes how truly fucked he is.

Your heart is pounding, pulse racing so widely he’s worried you’ll have a heart attack. Not even him shushing you or caressing your face makes it better, in fact you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at him. You’re whimpering, “please, please don’t hurt me again.” While salty tears stream down your face, your hands trying to shakily push him back. Homelander usually revels in it, the intoxicating smell of fear. But this time, he’s clenching his jaw at the way you wail and try to climb out of the bed and away from him. He knows exactly what he’s done and it doesn’t feel good this time.

When nurses rush in and gently move him out of the way, he watches as they sedate you. Listening to your pulse slow and your breathing go back to normal. The doctors voice is like static in his head, he doesn’t pay attention to anything she says.

He just hopes you can “move past it” at some point. And if not, that’s alright - he’ll be there for you regardless.

#he’s so horrible I hate him #soyboyantics. 💌#valeries mailbox 📫#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader

1K notes · View notes

wosemi-sama · 6 months

Note

Hihi!! Guess who's back to make another Kyo request?!(⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Sooooooo as we know this mf is a HUGE tsundere, and recently Ren has said that he doesn't really know how to likeeee react to, accept affection so I was wondering how would he act with a s/o that's really really affectionate :3

hi again and thanks for the request!! i added my own hcs for what i think the iluna institute is like bc i think it would be such an interesting school n stuff ! hope u like it tho c:

kyo kaneko x reader

Just like every other school day, Kyo wakes up, gets ready for class, and waits for his friends, Ren and Aster.

He waits outside their dorms for a moment, leaning against the wall.

Ren comes out of his dorm room and greets Kyo. Almost immediately, Aster comes out his dorm too and greets his friends. The three of them start walking down to the cafeteria of the school to eat breakfast. The boys talked and laughed while they ate their first meal of the day.

20 minutes had passed, the bell rang, signaling it was time for students to start walking to their next class of the day. The three boys threw away their trash and walked out of the cafeteria. The doors to the cafeteria led to the outside, leading to multiple other hallways and classrooms.

ILUNA, Institute of Mythics, has one big courtyard in the middle. The school is made up of eight big hallways, arranged like a square of top of another square with a hole in the middle of both of them. Four hallways on the second floor, four hallways on the first floor. The courtyard has multiple buildings in it, such as the library, watch tower, the planetarium, observatory, and a smaller building that has more classrooms. It's a big courtyard.

Aster had already gone to his first class of the day, the first classroom next to the cafeteria.

Ren spotted Maria within the crowd of students and promptly chased after her, since they had their first class together.

After a few seconds, the concrete path cleared up, only a few students remained, walking to their classes.

The pathways were mostly empty now.

Kyo's first class of the day was Potions 101. He had it with Scarle. He had already memorized his schedule by now. He was about to start walking forward until he felt a pair of arms around him. Kyo's body stiffened, not knowing how to react, just like every other day.

Every single day without fail, Kyo gets hugged from behind in the same hallway at ILUNA Institute. It is, of course, his lovely S/O.

His S/O couldn't see it from behind, but his face turned bright red, nearly identical to a tomato.

Little did he know, a pair of familiar silhouettes were watching. The two people watching were, of course, Aia, the angel, who was infamous around the Institute of the Mythics for being kicked out of heaven, and Doppio, the delinquent from the friendly rival school, XSOLEIL, Institute of Infinity. Aia was heading to library as she was apart of the library committee. The library committee helped around the library and each member was scheduled to help out once a week during one of their classes. This was Aia's time. Doppio was skipping school, as usual and decided to drop by to spy on the ILUNA students.

They watched from afar, hiding behind the door to the exit. Aia silently laughed as she took out of her phone. Doppio was chuckling to himself as well, taking his phone out, his magenta phone case blending in with the shade as the sun hid away from behind the door.

Aia and Doppio quickly snapped a pictures of Kyo and his S/O, knowing this would be really funny blackmail.

Aia's phone made a shutter sound. Knowing that Kyo heard it, she quickly put away her phone. Her phone case covered in Genshin Impact stickers was hid away in flash as she darted across the courtyard, making her way to the library in hopes that a now 6 foot tall Kyo Kaneko wouldn't kill her in broad daylight.

Despite the fact that Doppio's phone also made a shutter sound, he ran away with the evidence and no harm done to him. As he ran away to the Institute of Ininfity to show the student council, he silently giggled and muttered to himself about how this would be SO embarrassing for Kyo and that he was going to show this to all of the student council and Kyo's friends.

Kyo's face returned to normal when he heard Aia's phone. Kyo quickly ran after Aia in attempt to make her delete and and all photos she took while his S/O watched in silence from under the shade.

"DELETE IT, YOU BITCH!!" Kyo shouted at Aia in an angry, but joking manner

"NOT A CHANCE, YOU COTTON CANDY LOOKING ASS BITCH!" Aia shouted as she tried her best to pull her phone away from Kyo.

"YOU SOUND LIKE SCARLE. SHE USES THE SAME GODDAMN INSULT FOR ME BECAUSE SHE CAN'T COME UP WITH ANYTHING BETTER!" Kyo yelled with a smile on his face. It seemed like he almost laughed at what he was saying.

"FUCK YOU. SHE'S TRYING VERY HARD WITH HER ROASTS. DON'T INSULT MY WIFE LIKE THAT." Aia cackled.

"YEAH I KNOW THAT I'M LITERALLY FUCKING TEACHING HER HOW TO ROAST PEOPLE LIKE WE WILL LITERALLY SIT TOGETHER DURING LUNCH AND TRY TO COME UP WITH INSULTS FOR RANDOM STUDENTS WALKING BY ON CAMPUS AND ALSO SHE'S LIKE MY SISTER I WOULD NEVER INSULT HER AND MEAN IT LIKE WHAT'RE YOU ON ABOUT YOU SPAWN OF SATAN-" From a distance, it sounded like Kyo was freestyle rapping. He was talking extremely quickly without taking a breath and laughing extremely hard too. So was Aia.

At this point, they were both out of air and his S/O was laughing from under the shade as well.

The bell finally rung, signaling that if you weren't at class yet, then you were late.

Aia darted to the library before yelling something petty to Kyo. Kyo gave you a peck on the cheek before he quickly dashed to his first class.

As he was running away, he was a blushing mess.

#I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IY WHILE IT WAS IN MY DRAFTS SO I RUSHED TO FINISH IT LMAO #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji #niji en #kyo kaneko x reader #kyo kaneko #iluna #youve got mail! wanna open it?💌

82 notes · View notes

adaptacy · 5 months

Note

If you are taking requests, I have a pairing that I do not ever see enough of: Gale x Durge. Specifically resisting the urge type Durge. Starved for content as I am, I’d be happy with whatever is written about the two. But I’d love something involving Durge nearly killing their lover or the reveal of Durge being one of the orchestrators of the Absolute plot. In game, those scenes feel far too underdeveloped.

Durge playthrough spoilers blow the cut (Shadow-cursed lands, Last Light Inn stuff. No act 3 spoilers)

so, I haven't gotten to that far into my durge playthru but I did get to the part where you try and kill your lover and to nobody's surprise that happened to be Gale!! i was actually kinda terrified that he was going to die bcs, in my defense, I did try to kill Isobel but Marcus or whatever-his-name-was got the last blow on her first and I was devastated that Gale was gonna have to pay the price for my low damage roll. in the end ofc it was worth it cause he tied my durge up and, I mean, who's gonna complain abt that??

ANYWAYS point is, yes, I agree, I wish that scene was more fleshed out too and I am more than happy to oblige and build on the scene that we were given! Also fun fact, I hadn't actually confirmed the relationship with Gale when this scene happened but the night directly after I tried to kill him he showed me his... 'tower'. And given how horny he gets watching tav/durge beat ppl up in the shadow cursed lands, i do not think that was a coincidence LMAO

No Sceleritas here cause I'm just gonna get to the good part :D — also durge here is gonna be sorta resisting the urge, but has more or less been allowing it to fester, just not embracing it.

Gorgeous was an understatement.

Busy days — waking hours occupied by wars, sight filled only with the flashes of spells and showers of blood — were all you knew. Nights were barely any break. Smiles were more common at camp, but given the near complete lack of smiles outside of camp, it wasn't saying much. There wasn't much time to be at camp, as the original mission to rid yourselves of the tadpoles grew messier and messier with every passing battle, and each matter was more pressing than the last.

You didn't mind, really. While you were just as eager to get the incubating creature out of your head as the rest of your group, each new quest and mission brought along with it the promise of bloodshed. Adrenaline. Victory. A momentary but exorbitantly satisfying quenching of your thirst for violence. A thirst you first found unsettling and terrifyingly unfamiliar.

When you first found yourself gazing down at the bloodied body of a stranger, dreaming of the torturous pain they must have felt when they met their fate, you were disgusted. Couldn't believe where your thoughts had wandered.

You'd fought it. Refrained from telling the others for fear of being ridiculed, or losing their trust, or scaring them. For a while, you'd fought it. But scarlet liquids, screams of terror, and slaughter had become your routine.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

Peace. Security. Naivete.

One knee bent, the other lazily stretched out, the bedroll barely containing the length of his body. One hand under his head, the other by his side. His eyes were closed, the soft hazel only ever plagued by a buried longing was hidden from you now. His hair spread over one arm and on the thin straw pillow beneath his head, more messy than he'd ever let it be seen while he was awake.

His right cheekbone had a bruise on it from where he'd hit himself with the butt of his staff while swinging it, and you recalled finding time to chuckle at his mistake in the middle of the battle. Being a few feet away, he'd heard it, and couldn't help but look over at you, his cheeks red from more than the blunt force, his mouth pulled back in an embarrassed smile. The moment of shame had earned him a punch to the side from his opponent moments before Astarion managed to stick them with his own blade, saving Gale from a worse fate.

Even down here, far from the surface, it was warm enough — perhaps from the fire that burned a mere two, maybe three, feet away — for Gale to concede and discard his shirt, resting more comfortably in a pair of indigo pants.

He had been honest about his appetites. His cravings. He was hardly hesitant about revealing that part of himself to you — fortunately, he was plenty aware of the consequences that would be wrought upon you, and the rest of the group, should he risk being unable to consume artifacts if he kept his secret.

Even Astarion, who's affliction was much closer to your own, was honest about his needs. It took a lot longer, and you're not sure how things would have gone over had you not woken up the night he planned to feast on you, but his admission did occur.

You were aware of the risks of your secret. You always yearned for more, even when you were positively drenched in crimson, when you'd been messy enough in your strikes that bathing in the river the following evening caused the water around you to be tainted a diluted red. Everything was temporary. Even the satisfaction derived from fights that left your weapon with such thick clumps of gore that Gale had to hold the shaft while you scrubbed away, as if the fight itself hadn't been taxing enough on your exhausted body.

Yet they all remained unaware. Some picked up on it better than others; Lae'zel's compliments, however shallow they often were, had picked up in frequency as you allowed your hunger to get the best of you, undoubtedly giving you some heartless upper hand against the foes forced to face off against your party. Karlach found you delightful, affectionately doting over you as you imitated her own battle-induced rages, though she didn't quite pick up on your lingering stares or mild smirks when your appetite had been satisfied.

Gale was the closest to discovering the truth. Unsurprising, given your mutual favoritism for one another. When you'd butchered Alfira, you'd been quick to blame wolves. Shadowheart, immediately discomforted at the mention, believed you without a second thought. Lae'zel had jumped to blame the Tiefling's lack of defense. Astarion seemed unbothered at best. The others were too busy mourning the bard's early demise to ask questions.

But he'd found you later, kneeling by the river, just before bed. 'A devastating misfortune she suffered. A sweet, innocent soul. Misfortune is perhaps the only apt term for the loss. Terribly curious, it is — To be so savagely slaughtered by beasts that aren't even native to these woods.'

You remembered freezing, fear flashing in a quick rush across your vision, knowing his eyes were on you, studying your reaction. He was so close. You'd agreed — 'an unfortunate fate indeed' — and he'd said goodnight.

Never again was it brought up. Never again was it questioned.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

That was, perhaps, the worst misfortune of all. He had such undying curiosity about the world, and yet that curiosity never reached you, or your intentions, or your past. Too trusting.

The camp was quiet. Crackling flames, distant whispers from the shadows hanging just beyond the light's reach, and his soft, patterned, blissful breathing. His chest rose and fell, so helplessly gentle.

His staff leaned up against a rock several feet away, alongside with everyone's weapons, save for Astarion, who preferred to keep his daggers close. Today had been no different from the rest; the battles had been taxing, only seeming to increase in difficulty the further you wandered into the shadows. He'd given it his all today, and it had been worth it, as you'd managed yet another day without losing any member of your party. As he'd explained it, the more of the weave he manipulated, the weaker his spells got — at least until he was able to rest.

He lay before you, undoubtedly sapped by the day's events. Defenseless.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

Three bruises. One on his cheekbone, one persistent discoloration that sat in the middle of the dark mark of the orb, and one on his side where he'd been assaulted by the undead in his moment of distraction. In a blink, your fingers grace the bruise on his side, and they tingle. Being fresh, the blemishes swirl a deep purple into his light skin, nearly matching the tint of his pants.

Purple was his best color, wasn't it?

The twitch of your fingertips sends a pulse through your body, and you taste an itch in the back of your throat. The tadpole squirms, you can feel its short wriggle behind your eye, but its control falters. Some other sensation warms your body, easing you into a malleable, thinning consciousness, and your gaze trails slowly, drunkenly, over his torso.

Three bruises. Clear, stuck to his skin like the stars he so fondly recalls. So far from the view of the sky, and yet you find a constellation still. Another blink, and your right leg has crossed over his waist. However forgotten your past is, it grants you a waking dream, as vivid as reality; Gale Dekarios, laying under you much like he was now, his pretty face littered with prettier bruises that dot all the way down to his shoulders, his neck red and swollen, branded by the picturesque imprint of hands.

Your hands.

And gorgeous is an understatement.

It's distinct. The pulse of his arteries, teasing the gift of blood beneath his skin, purring under your fingers as they push, your thumbs hitched underneath his jaw, pressuring the veins. Your own heart is thumping, encouraging your desires, urging you to indulge.

You've tasted vindication like this before. When you awoke to the spectacle of Alfira's maimed corpse, there was serenity like nothing you knew possible. It came underlined by pride, your work preciously appalling, and you relished the piece, the art macabre and perfect.

The sweeter the canvas, the finer the design.

Gale was nothing if not sweet.

"My — Hardly the sight I was expecting to wake to."

Another blink, and his bruises are gone, save for the contusion on his cheek. Absent are the inscriptions of your hands on his neck, and his hazel eyes are revealed to you once more. Though you don't remember moving it, your hand presses against the black circle on his chest, palm pining for his throat.

You're unable to move. Unable to control yourself. Unable to win back your own consciousness. Gale props himself up on his elbows. His heart rate has picked up, and yet you don't sense fear. The curiosity in his eyes is familiar. The quirk in his left eyebrow and the smirk playing on the corner of his mouth is not.

"I do assume you meant to wake me, eventually. No harm," he says, gaze narrowing, and your lack of a response makes him huff out a chuckle, or at least part of one, as it only lasts a beat. Your eyes are pinned to his throat, reaching to find the comfort of your imagination's lens again, but your dream has been interrupted. At last, your eyes meet his, and it's the hazel that causes the tadpole to squirm again, awakening your senses once more. Gale moves one of his hands to rest on your waist, and his head recoils ever so slightly. "You look uncomfortable. What's wrong?" He asks, and you're able to sense a less pleasant curiosity, but it's still free of fearful influence.

"I'm going to kill you. You have to stop me."

His eyes widen, and still, there is no fear. He doesn't believe you. "A rather twisted joke... Not one I find particularly humorous. Albeit, humor is subjective, although–"

"I killed Alfira. You're next. No time – you have to stop me," you huff, and your confession brings on a raging headache, unlike any pain you've ever felt before. You lean forward, teeth grit as you groan, and Gale squeezes your hip for a moment. Though the reverberations in your head are overwhelming at the least, you finally catch a hint of fear from the wizard, and you're thankful for it. At least a part of you is, though the beast that brings on your headache is only bubbling to a rage, furious that you would dare turn against your thoughts. You've not committed a betrayal against your own conscience, but instead, betrayed your destiny, refusing some urge that is larger than yourself.

With what little remaining control you have, you push yourself off of him, and he's quick to rise to his feet. Your eyes squeeze closed, fighting the unwelcome entity with the rest of your energy, though given your excursions earlier in the day, that energy is quickly dwindling. Your knees press to the dirt, the heels of your palms pressing to your temples as you keel over, an aggressive, roaring nausea plaguing your senses, soon joined by an even more violent malignity that rips into your control as though it means to test you.

You want him dead.

A wonderful bath his blood would provide — A marvelous crack his bones would sing — A remarkable terror he could feel. He will suffer.

There's a firm squeeze on your arms as they're yanked behind your back, and you writhe, fighting your cravings as they fight your containment. The hold is followed by a burning scrape on your wrists as they are hastily, and uncomfortably tightly, bound by rope. Your head swings, but Gale manages to pull back in time, his reflex causing his grip to falter, and you fall to your side, rolling towards his bedroll.

He frowns, eyebrows pinched inward and he kneels in place, a few paces away, reading the situation and assessing just how much of a threat you pose. Gale glances at where Shadowheart and Karlach lie, still miraculously sleeping soundly despite the struggle occurring no more than two yards from where they reside. His attention returns to you. "Easy. Should you retain any control, I merely request that you refrain from indulging in... whatever your intentions may have been. Greedy as it may be, an explanation certainly wouldn't hurt."

There's a command, conjuring as a sensation rather than a verbal declaration, and it rings through your entire body. You're unable to decipher the apparition's ambition, but your muscles act nonetheless. It fights — you fight — against the rope, and there's a flare of savage discontent when you're unable to free yourself. "You're better off as my prey! You will suffer a purgatory worse than any of the hells could manage," you bark, and your words are not your own. The control he speaks of is entirely silenced, leaving you an unwilling vessel, forced to submit to the will of your past.

"Not the answer I would have preferred, but an answer nonetheless. Yelling will only stir the others from their slumber, and I predict they won't be as understanding as yours truly. You should consider taking up a quieter tone," he advises, and you growl, forcing rashes into your wrists as you wage a war on your binds.

"I will spill your blood before this night is through!" You yell again, and Karlach shifts where she sleeps, stirring a flash of worry in his expression. "Wake them! I'll slaughter them all the same!"

Gale cringes, conflicted for only a moment before he overcomes his internal argument, and he quickly rushes to your side. You bite at him with a rabid ferocity, and he sits behind you, pulling your body closer to his own, even as you squirm and fight him. Shadowheart mumbles, bordering on the edge of lucidity, and Gale curses out a whispered "Godsdamn it." He huffs, irritated just as much as he is scared, and his palm presses to your mouth, his thumb keeping your jaw shut — or at least trying to keep it shut — as your head is pulled against his shoulder.

You mumble, fervently antagonizing him, your muffled words being split up only by the subtle flinching of your jaw as you attempt to bite at his hand, all to no avail. His grasp is tight, nearly rough, keeping you as restrained as possible, and he watches Karlach and Shadowheart with apprehensive dread, his focus painfully split between concern for you and fear of you.

Gale looks down at you, his expression firm and yet, against all odds and expectations, somehow understanding, even if it is incredibly mild. "I've seen you tear apart the most ferocious of beasts. Foes that would make Bhaal himself tremble. You always prevail. You must defeat this — whatever it is." He nods, but his encouragement is not what you want to hear; you thirst for his terror, you thirst for his pleading, you want to see him tremble. His tone softens, and he squeezes your jaw, almost tenderly. "I'm right here. No blood will be shed tonight. Fight to your heart's content; I will not give in. You cannot give in, either."

Your heart is all that remains of your better judgement, and it aches at his promise, though the guilt and appreciation is quickly whisked away by your burning rage, your need for violence. You persist, as does he, correcting your every shift, no matter how exhausted he grows. Certainly the most stern you've ever seen him — more disciplined than you knew he could be, but you have little room in your mind to process that. You despise the way that he cares, the fact that he is just gentle enough not to injure you as he restricts you, the understanding in his expression, the near nurturing tone he takes on.

Yet it's the affection that eventually subsides your bloodlust, willing it to retire, however angry it remains. Angry at the loss, angry at the incompetence, angry at the devotion. Devotion to the wrong subject. Gale wins, ultimately — and by some affiliation, so too do you. A temporary victory, you're well-aware, but even if it isn't permanent, your body becomes your own, your thoughts and feelings along with it.

Exhaustion is the first burden you bear upon your return, and Gale is hesitant to ease his grasp on you, but he takes the risk, and you can't muster the energy to move away from him. Your head pangs with a narrow pain, manifesting as a faint ringing in your ears, and your wrists sear with sharp bites from the fraying rope. His hand releases your mouth, shifting quickly to your shoulder as your torso threatens to fall over, your buried rancor having completely wasted away the last of your energy.

Gale sighs, his own muscles easing up as he inches backwards, allowing you to lean more comfortably, and with a bit more stability, against his chest. One of his arms stays displayed over your abdomen, quite possibly still a little worried you might lash out again, and you didn't blame him for exercising caution. You lean into him, mostly because you lack the energy to do much else, but also because you want him to understand that you are beyond appreciative. "I'm sorry," you mumble, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper — barely audible at all, really.

"I know. You're okay. Rest now, you'll certainly require some form of rejuvenation if we intend on defeating Ketheric and... Well, repressing whatever it is that you find yourself cursed with. And I assure you, I do so unquestionably intend on assisting you with your affliction. After all, I'm quite fond of my vitals, and I've no interest in seeing them spilled." Gale's tone is almost lighthearted, but genuine still.

His arm releases you, and he guides you to rest your head in his lap, allowing you to experience a little more comfort. Your eyes close, and you fear sleep — you know the possible horrors you could cause when you're left defenseless against your bloodlust — but you feel it taking you nonetheless. Gale doesn't untie you, not yet anyways, and it provides the slightest of reassurances. Worst case scenario, you know that, should the urge take advantage of your rest, Gale will expect it this time.

"Perhaps a poor time for confessions," he begins, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face, "But I must admit, the notion of you becoming lost to that rage is not a concept I'm anywhere near comfortable with. Keeping my heart beating is one motivation, and a strong one at that — but I hope you understand that keeping you safe is also immensely important to me. In all honesty, I'm... not sure what I'd do without you. I worry enough witnessing your engagement in the violent affairs we do so often find ourselves tangling with." Gale pauses, and clears his throat, shifting nervously. "Apologies, pay me no mind — A little shaken up, I fear my feelings may be getting the best of me. Rest. We'll reconvene come morning."

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #gale baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios bg3 #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x durge #durge bg3 #bg3 durge #durge #gale bg3 x durge #durge x gale #bg3 #gale of waterdeep

89 notes · View notes

agentmarvel · 8 months

Text

König art (top left) by @ave661 - original art here

Divider by @trashmouth-richie

Summary: König leaves a letter for you as he departs on his latest mission.

Pairing: König x Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Inspired by: Stalker's Tango by Autoheart (listen here)

MDNI - 18+

Tags: Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Meet-Cute, Well... kinda, König is a stalker, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Author Has Never Played Call Of Duty, Yandere Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Alternative Reader, König is feral for goth girls and no one will change my mind, Barista!Reader, Non-Graphic Violence, Abuse of Google Translate tbh, Reader might be a little cuckoo too, Explicit Sexual Content, No use of y/n, No description of reader outside of outfit specifics

😈

Oh, mein Liebling, you truly have no idea how much I adore you.

I remember the day we met, don’t you? That’s right! Exactly one year ago today, in this very coffee shop. Feels like yesterday, does it not?

You were so sweet to me from the moment I walked in. I saw the concern in your eyes when I nearly hit my head on that silly little bell over the door. When I came up to the counter, your eyes widened just a little. I don’t think you quite realized just how much I tower over you. But that surprise quickly melted into a mile wide, saccharine smile.

There was such softness to your voice when you asked me what you could get started for me. I barely took a breath before you offered your recommendations. I ordered the one you seemed most excited about. The sugar buzz and little nickel and dime costs were so well worth the mirth in your eyes. You looked so excited to make it. How could I possibly say no?

You asked my name; I gave it to you.

"König?" you repeated, scribbling it on the cup. I cannot begin to describe what that did to me, my darling, the way you said my name so sweetly. "Isn't that German for 'king'?"

The fact that you knew - oh, mein Herz sei still! - nearly had me on my knees. Do you speak German, kleines? No matter, I will teach you anything you would like. You will have plenty of time to learn.

You waited so patiently for me to nod, to tell you that was correct. I could see it in your eyes that you so desperately craved that validation. As soon as you got it, those expressive eyes of yours, even with all that dark make-up, lit up like an explosion. I could practically see the little hearts floating around your head. Your smile got so big, and I knew at that moment that you had me caught in your web.

Crafty, meine kleine Spinne, not often that I am the fly instead of the spider.

Then you turned around, that cute little skirt flaring just enough for me to see those fishnet stockings beneath. I swear, my heart skipped a beat. Jumped right out of my chest. Maybe that’s when you stole it, hmm?

Of no consequence. It is yours now.

Somehow, I do not feel you are told often enough, but mein gott, you are beautiful. The way the sunlight reflects off your pretty skin, the soft line of your jaw, every curve and dip of your body, each little freckle and scar and pore; I love everything about you. Every inch of you, head to toe, is worthy of worship. Will you let me worship you, my love?

I promise to treat you like the deity you truly are. I will gladly work my fingers down to bone to carve marble statues in your likeness, write every word you speak to me in the night sky, paint your beauty on canvas with my own blood if I have to, anything to show you how I crave being near you.

You’re all I think about, little darling. My first thought when I wake, my last thought before I sleep. It keeps getting harder to be away from you, even for something as important as my work. The frequency with which I must leave you sickens me at times. It kills me to be away from you. But I make due with your pretty pictures.

I have a few on my phone, little candids while you work or when you’re lost in your favorite show, but I keep two very special photos in the pocket of my vest - right over my heart so I always have you close.

The first one is you curled up on the bed, fast asleep. I’ve memorized every inch of your bare spine, the way your arms curl beneath your pillow, the way the satin sheets encase you with such enticing detail. I doubt you know I took the picture. It was the middle of the night during the spring, and you were so exhausted from your work day. I swear, I can still hear those precious little snores every time I look at it.

The other, however, is exponentially less tasteful, hübsche Spinne. Similar position, on your stomach with your knee pushed out to the side, but you threw the sheets off that summer night. Too hot for your poor, perfect body. Stripped down to nothing to stave off the heatwave. If only you would have asked me to fix your air conditioner instead of waiting for your landlord.

From across the room, by aid of the moonlight through your open window, I could see that pretty little cunt. I could see how wet you were. Fuck, you were soaked for me. Sweet little hole just begging to be stuffed full. I needed a little taste, needed to touch you. So I just ran my finger through your messy lips. Nearly lost control when I licked you off the tip. I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life, never wanted anyone so badly, struggling to fight the urge to bury my face in between your thighs, to force my tongue, fingers, anything inside you. Show you how perfect you really are.

But I stopped myself, kleines. I would never want to hurt you in any way you did not ask for. We both know you can’t take my cock without proper foreplay. Instead, I stood as close to you as I could and fucked my fist, biting down on one the t-shirts from your bedroom floor until I came.

(I’ll give that shirt back soon, love. I know it’s one of your favorites, and you’ve been looking for it for months.)

That’s the picture - my spend dripping between your cheeks, my cock dangling just inches from your pretty pussy. Almost right where it belongs, ja? I’ll let you have it all as soon as I get home to you. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, darling; soon, we’ll never be apart again.

Oh, the things we will do when I come home… We will have months worth of lost time to make up for, though I cannot say why I will be gone so long. I am sure you understand.

We can start with movies, yes? I want you to show me all your favorites. Play me the things that make you laugh, show me what makes you cry (fuck, you are so pretty when you cry, do you know that?), teach me about the things that feed your nightmares so that I may chase them away for you.

What next? Music? Yes, music. You have a vast taste, don’t you? I could sit with you for hours listening to your favorite playlist. I have done so on many occasions, but to hold you, to dance with you, that would be ideal. You can choose our first dance, but choose wisely, mein Schatz, because I will not forget it. May just be our first dance on our wedding day, too.

I did not get a chance to tell you before this, but do you remember that little bar we went to? The one with the live music? You did not see me there, but I saw you. I also, unfortunately, saw the boisterous little gnat that tried to cozy up to you a few times. He would not take no for an answer, would he? Kept pestering you and trying to take you home with him, but no, not you, not my venomous little spider. Mein gutes Mädchen, you shot him down so quickly so many times. You are so well-behaved, even when you do not know I am there.

He will never bother you again, I assure you. I handled the situation after you left that night with my favorite knife. Ruined a perfectly good shirt, but I kept it for you in case you ever need a reminder of the lengths to which I will go to keep you safe.

Do not worry, it’s been washed. There are just some stubborn stains that refuse to come out.

Unfortunately, I must go. I’ve re-written this letter so many times to try to make it perfect for you, but it would seem I have run out of time. It will not be long before I return to you, my darling girl. Please, take care. I will see you soon enough.

All my love,

König

P.S. I hope you enjoy this little care package I have put together for you. Take an evening to pamper yourself for me before I come home. Ich liebe dich, meine Spinne ♡

You look at the letter in your hand, black ink stamped and splattered and smeared by the key strikes of a typewriter. The envelope taunts you from the countertop, boasting your name with flourish. Your heart is racing as it lodges itself inside your throat. You try to swallow around the lump that’s formed, but it only spurs tears.

There’s no surprise in the fact that you know exactly who sent this. He’s outrageously tall, broad shouldered, jacked as shit, and always wears a ballcap and a neoprene mask that hides the lower half of his face. You’ve only ever seen his eyes - those intense, wide blue eyes that you swear are glued to you at all times.

It’s involuntary and upon pure instinct (or perhaps morbid curiosity) that you grab the box and rip the wrapping paper off. The edges of the tape sealing the top are wrinkled enough for you to dig a nail under to peel it back, and immediately, the scent of a musky cologne hits you. It’s strangely pleasant, despite the fact that you can see something beneath the first layer of tissue paper that’s a deep red-brown. Your heart drops from your throat to the pit of your stomach as you lift the paper away.

A beige t-shirt, covered in blood stains, sits in your grasp. There’s a small tear in the collar. It smells a lot better than you’d expected, but still, a wave of nausea hits you. Gently, you hold the fabric up in front of you. A shirt that size would swallow you, reach your mid-thigh at minimum, so it’s certainly not your missing one.

Something falls from the shirt as it unfolds, a dull thud sounding off the laminate counter. It’s another box, a small one, that opens with little to no effort. Inside sits a knife with a fixed blade bearing an inscription: Ich liebe dich - I love you.

That same morbid curiosity gets the best of you, and you can’t stop yourself from looking inside the small box again. Beneath one more layer of tissue paper, you find three things: two pairs of panties you thought you had been eaten by your dryer (filthy, unwashed, and now covered in multiple questionable white stains) and another envelope. Your hands shake as you toss said panties back in the box and tear through the top of the seal. There’s cash inside, quite a lot of it. Suddenly the pampering comment makes sense.

Blankly, you place the knife box, the envelope, and the t-shirt back inside the box, folding in the flaps so nothing falls back out.

Tears sting the corners of your eyes. It’s terrifying to feel this way, and your mind is running a million miles per hour. Hundreds of thoughts are flooding your brain while thousands more sit in the recesses, but none of them will settle enough to be coherent. Why did he choose you? How long had he been watching you? How did he get into your home? Is he inside your head, too?

You’ll have to find a way to thank him for such thoughtful gifts when he comes home. Turns out your feelings for him aren’t quite as unrequited as you thought, hmm?

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig #könig cod #stalker romance #jj writes #mind the tags y'all #könig mw2 #könig imagine #könig fanfiction

124 notes · View notes

bad268 · 2 months

Text

It's Always Been Minho Pt. 2 (TMR Minho X Reader)

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Requested: Yeah, i saw yall asking for part 2 so here it is (thanks @dearestwonderland for the idea! I strayed a bit (a lot) but I left it open for a potential part 3)

Warnings: WICKED

POV: First POV (I/me/she/her)

W.C. 2305

Summary: They survived, but at what cost?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<- Part 1

~~(^Google/Wiki fandom)

I couldn’t see. The sun was blaring down more than it ever did in the maze, and the rays reflected off of the never-ending sight of sand. This was nothing like the glade.

The glade was safe to me. Sure, I was running into the maze every other day and nearly killing myself, but other than that, there weren’t random things out to get me. There weren’t natural elements or random people with the flare after me. Out here, it was brutal.

It was also very awkward. I could tell that the boys felt it too. Maybe it was the feelings Minho and I had not talked about. Maybe it was how Teresa really was not a trustworthy person. Maybe it was because we were spending our days walking through sand and could die at any point.

We had not even been out of the WICKED facility for longer than a few days but it felt like had been at least a month. All of the days blurred together. Every day was just sand, walking, wind, walking, sand. One day, we finally saw something promising; a city. That was when we finally got a moment to regain our barrings.

I finally had a moment to myself. I was sitting and hiding in a corner of the room we had barricaded ourselves in, and I just wanted to enjoy the solitude after having no breaks. At one point I leaned against the wall and dosed off. I must have been out for a few hours because when I woke up, the sun was gone and everyone else was asleep.

Everyone except Minho.

He was standing by a metal trashcan that was lit on fire, trying to stay warm. I walked over to stand beside him, cold as well. It did not take him long to detect the very noticeable shiver I made every once in a while, so he moved his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

“I think it’s time we talk,” I whispered, leaning into his side, but not looking at him. “We haven’t had the chance, but there’s no one to interrupt us now.”

“I like where this is heading,” He smirked, tightening his hold. I immediately scoffed, pushing his arm off of me, and turned to glare at him. “What? It’s a joke!”

“Not everything needs to be sexual,” I answered annoyed as I rolled my eyes.

“I’m just acting like I did before the maze,” He admitted, “I always made those kinds of jokes with you, and you loved them.”

“Well, newsflash Minho! Not everyone remembers life before the maze!” I pointed out as I shook my head in disbelief. “Pre-maze me may have loved that, but pre-maze me also didn’t have to endure all the sexist comments of the guys around her. Forgive me for not finding a sexual joke funny after being ridiculed for my gender for three years straight.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-” he tried to start, but I cut him off.

“No! You don’t realize!” I nearly shouted. “Minho, you were the worst of them all! You think that suddenly you remember that we were in a relationship makes it all okay, but it doesn’t! I will always remember the things you said to me, and no amount of apologies will fix that. Nothing will bring me back to the girl you remember because, to me, she never existed.”

He was speechless for a moment, absorbing everything I just said. In the midst of my rant, neither of us saw Thomas, Newt, and Teresa wake up, and move closer to see what was going on. After a few beats, he finally said, “I understand that you don’t remember, and I’m sorry I treat you like you should. I just thought that since you saved me in the maze, it meant you felt something toward me, so I took that as a green light.”

“Minho,” I shook my head disappointedly, “not every kind gesture a girl does for you means that they like you. From this point forward, I’m going on my own. Hopefully, I’ll see you in the safe haven, and if not, we’ll die trying.”

I did not give any of them the chance to respond as I turned and walked out of the building. Despite their protests, I kept walking, and I did not turn back. I found an abandoned shack not too far from the original building which was great because I heard the distinct groaning of the cranks nearby.

The next day, I was up bright and early. I did not want to waste any time in building a distance between me and Minho. That was the last thing I needed. After walking for a few days straight, I found another city. This one looked like people still lived in it. I went up to the gates and knocked.

It took a while, but eventually, a guard came to the door, holding a gun pointed at me. I threw my hands up in surrender. “Please, I’m unarmed!”

“State your business,” he said.

“I’m immune, and I’m trying to find anyone. I’ve been on my own,” I explained quickly. He dropped his gun, not entirely but enough to make me feel less threatened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Who are you?” I told him my name and he nodded and allowed me to enter. “I have to take you to the leaders.”

“Leaders? What is this? A monarch?” I joked, and I received a small smile from the guard.

“No, just the people that keep us from killing each other,” He explained as we walked into one of the bigger buildings. Inside there was not much. A few beds, some stocked up food, and some blankets. He pointed to a couple of crates stacked to look like a chair before saying, “Stay here.”

I sat down and just caught my breath. That’s when it all hit me. Sure, I left the only friends I knew on my own accord, but that did not make it hurt any less. I missed Thomas. I missed Newt. Hell, I missed Minho. I will never admit to missing Teresa though. I still had the nagging feeling that she was a traitor. I did not have to wait too long for the leaders to come into the open space, and when they did, my jaw dropped.

“Gally?”

“No way, you’re the single trying to join us,” Gally muttered to himself mostly.

“I left the group,” I admitted, knowing he probably thought they died during the journey. “I could not stand to be in Minho’s presence, and I had a bad feeling about Teresa.”

“You and me both, honestly,” He chuckled, and that was the first time I actually laughed with him. “You can stay,” I directed at me before turning to the other leaders and guards around them, “I want her with me at all times. She’s tough. Don’t underestimate her, am I clear?”

That was the day I became one of the guards. I patrolled the premises with Gally every day, talking shit and having fun. Yes, we were constantly running for our lives, but that did not mean we could not have fun too.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. All of it blurred together until one night there was a horrible storm. It was the first time it ever rained that I could remember. Granted, it never rained in the glade, so it did feel like it was the first time.

I decided to sit under a covering but still outside, watching in awe of the weather. Eventually, Gally sat beside me, and we sat in silence for a while just enjoying the rain.

“Are you ever gonna tell me the real reason you split?” Gally broke the silence as he looked over at me. “I know you wouldn’t have left Thomas or Newt unless the circumstances pushed you to it. And you don’t have to tell me! It’s just-“

“He wants me to forget everything that happened,” I muttered, stopping him short. “Minho wants to pick up where we were before the Glade, but I don’t have a memory before the Glade. Plus, he wants me to completely disregard everything he said in the Glade. All the sexist comments, I can’t look past those.”

“Speaking of that, I’m sorry for how I acted in there too,” he apologized. “It was weird having a girl in there, and I got defensive.”

“You’re fine, Gally,” I dismissed immediately. “You stopped after a few months, but this guys kept at it for all three years. That’s three years of me being torn down over and over. That shit hurt, and I don’t think I can just look past that.”

“Maybe, give it time. This time away from him could help you sort yourself out. Think how you really feel about him, if you could ever see yourself with him, and what he would have to do to regain your trust,” Gally consoled. Silence fell between us once again as I started thinking about what Gally said. Could I see myself with him after everything? Maybe. Is that toxic? Yes, but he’ll work for it. My thoughts got interrupted by Gally chuckling, causing me to look over at him questionably. “Nothing, I can just see the gears turning. You can see yourself with him, but you’re upset that he did all this to you.”

“Are you sure you weren’t a therapist or something?” I laughed, lightly punching his shoulder. “But yes. I could see myself with him eventually.”

“Then sleep on it, and maybe we’ll try to find them tomorrow,” Gally suggested as he stood up. He held out a hand for me, which I took as I stood in front of him.

“Deal, I’ll see you in the morning.”

The morning was hell. Early that morning, after it stopped raining but before the sun was out, a group was frantically banging on the gate. Unfortunately, Gally and I were the only ones still awake, so we went to check it out.

The last people I expected to see were Newt and Thomas. I immediately noticed that Minho was missing, Thomas looked scared, and Newt had black veins. I knew he had the flare, so I stepped back, providing backup and Gally questioned them while Newt and Thomas just looked at us in awe.

“We thought you both died,” Thomas said, disregarding the entire shpeel that Gally said. “Never thought we’d see you guys again.”

“Well contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” I piped up, moving to stand beside Gally rather than behind him. “Speak of the devil, where is he?”

“That’s why we need your help,” Newt spoke up. He sounded broken like the flare was destroying him from the inside out (spoiler: it was). “He was taken by WICKED, and you were right about Teresa. She was giving WICKED our location the entire time.”

“Maybe next time believe a girl’s intuition,” I replied sarcastically. “And what do you mean ‘taken by WICKED’?”

“During the storm, we found a shack and hid out in it, but Teresa must have known about it because WICKED soldiers were already there,” Thomas explained before looking down. “They ambushed us and took Minho while we all ran.”

“What happened to no man left behind?” Gally exclaimed, reciting the first rule for the runners. One that he knew well since he was such close friends with Ben. “Did any of you fight for him?”

“We did but we can’t really do much against guns,” Newt deadpanned. “That’s why we need your help. You guys have guns, cars, and a helicopter. We can fly into the city and save him.”

“If we’re saving Minho, I would like to propose a sub mission if you will,” I offered, turning to Gally. “As much as I would love to reconcile with Minho, I don’t give a shit if we actually save him, but I’ll be damned if we don’t get the cure. I think that should be the focus.”

Maybe there was some truth behind my words. Maybe there wasn’t. Gally didn’t buy it, but we still decided to go forward with the plan to get the cure. And sure, save Minho in the process.

Minho, on the other hand, was going insane. The last conversation we had was on replay in his head all day every day. Despite the hours of torturing WICKED did to him, all by Teresa’s hand, nothing hurt him more than knowing he fucked up. While sitting in his cell after one of the more brutal beatings, he decied this was his punishment for royally fucking up. Moreover, he decided that it was justified.

He hated seeing the look of disgust on my face as soon as he made the first comment in the Glade. He also hated seeing the look of defeat after the keepers meeting where I petitioned on Thomas’s behalf. He hated everything he did, and in isolation, all he was left with was his thoughts.

That is until he heard commotion outside. He thought it was in his head at first and did not want to get his hopes up. However, when he heard keys in the lock, he cowered away, thinking it was a guard to take him again for testing. He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands until he felt gentle palms pull them away. He slowly peeled his eyes open to meet her familiar orbs.

“Hey, we gotta get you outta here. Thomas and Newt are getting the cure, but I need you to follow me now. We’ll talk it out when we’re in the safe haven.” Y/n. It was Y/n. It’s always been Y/n.

~~~~~

#the maze runner minho x reader #the maze runner minho #tmr minho x reader #minho x reader #tmr minho #minho #minho x y/n #tmr minho x you #minho tmr #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner #tmr

37 notes · View notes

areyougonnabe · 1 year

Note

Explain the Scott/Shackleton/Wilson drama. Be as detailed as you’d like.

omfg. okay. well. here we go, it will be very long, but if you want even more detail, please check out the book i sourced most of this from, shackleton's forgotten expedition by beau riffenburgh!

EPISODE 1: THE DISCOVERY EXPEDITION

in 1901, ROBERT FALCON SCOTT leads the first major british expedition to the antarctic since 1839

hired onto this expedition: doctor and naturalist EDWARD "BILL" WILSON and merchant navy lieutenant ERNEST SHACKLETON

what you must know about bill wilson is that he was an absolute dreamboat and paragon who emitted some kind of insane pheromone which made every man he met debilitatingly obsessed with him. i'm not kidding

anyway shackleton and bill immediately hit it off. shackles would wake bill up when there was an especially beautiful sunrise that he could paint, they would read poetry together, and when the ship wintered over, they would spent hours every day together working on the expedition newspaper, the South Polar Times - shackleton as editor/writer and wilson as artist.

less immediately than shackles and wilson's bond, scott and wilson were also growing closer. in the middle of winter, wilson wrote to his wife that "although Shackleton is still my best friend, the Captain and I understand one another better than anyone else on the ship, I think."

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN

EPISODE 2: THE SOUTHERN JOURNEY

scott asked wilson if he would go with him on the planned sledge journey to reach the south pole. wilson is like omg :3333 yeah sure but we probably need three people. scott chose shackleton as their third, knowing that's who wilson also would have picked—because of wilson's friendship with him, but also because shackleton Really Really wanted to go.

so! off they go!!!!!! they have dogs who they don't know how to drive and skis that they don't know how to use and not nearly enough rations which aren't nearly nutritious enough. lmao. this is gonna go great

besties it does not go great.

by the time the support party turned back and the trio continued on, they had become exhausted, impatient, and hungry.

scott and shackleton began to grate against each other, the differences in their personalities coming to the fore: shackleton romantic and improvisatory, scott practical and deliberate. they came from vastly different worlds: shackleton from the merchant navy and scott from the royal navy, and had very different approaches to discipline and leadership.

at some point around then, an Incident occurred. what that Incident was is not clear: reports differ, but it's likely that a verbal argument was had, insults were thrown, and honor was wounded.

despite that, the march had to continue. but things became even more difficult as the men began to show signs of physical deterioration. most importantly, shackleton was beginning to be undoubtedly affected by scurvy.

they turned for home at 82º17'S, which was a furthest south record but still a disappointment to the men.

trying to get back home before the winter weather arrived was A Bad Time. shackleton was getting worse, both scott and wilson were affected too, but shackleton was by far the weakest of the three, possibly not just due to scurvy but also pain and shortness of breath from the heart condition that would eventually kill him 20 years later.

contrary to popular opinion he was not "pulled on the sledge all the way home" - he usually staggered along beside it, behind it, or pathfinding out in front of it while the other two men hauled.

but, while shackleton was out of hearing, wilson and scott were able to talk between themselves. according to some interpretations, this is when they formed the bond of friendship that would last until their deaths.

by the time they reached the final depot, shackleton seemed to have improved, but a blizzard hit and he worsened again. at one point wilson didn't think he would last the night: but he pulled through, recovering to the point that he could lead the way again as they made the final dash for the ship.

anyway. after they get back. despite the fact that [lpoe shackles voice] THEY ALL HAD SCURVY, scott pulls an utter asshole power move and forcibly invalids shackleton home on the relief ship. he basically is like you can't sit with us.

shackleton was nearly recovered! scott was doing worse than him at this point (1month after they got back) AND YET. reportedly scott said that "if he does not go back sick he will go back in disgrace." YIKES

and it's even worse if you know that scott pulled strings to get bill's poor medical record disregarded in order to get him approved for the expedition!!!!!!!!!

EPISODE 3: THE BREAKUP

ok this is probably the most complicated part so i will have to simplify it a bit.

but basically after the indignity of getting yeeted from the discovery expedition, shackles made it his goal to lead his own expedition and get to the south pole without scott.

as he began planning the expedition, it became clear that scott was ALSO planning another expedition south, to finish what he'd started.

the clash was immediate and also incredibly stupid. essentially, scott wanted shackleton to pinky promise that under no circumstances would his independent expedition make any use of McMurdo Sound, the Great Barrier, or any of the land previously explored and charted during the Discovery expedition, because scott perceived it as "his domain."

and shackleton knew this was stupid so he was like "i mean lol maybe w/e" but scott could not abide by the idea that shackleton was trying to scoop him out of his rightful claim to the pole as some sort of revenge for invaliding him home.

in order to make scott see sense, shackles passed along his response first to bill wilson. but this was a mistake, because bill was firmly on scott's side. he told shackleton that he'd better do as scott says and stay out of mcmurdo sound. and shackleton was like............ ok i'll just go a little bit to the east then.

and bill was like THATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH :))) and he and scott together were pushing for shackleton to give up rights to the entire "Ross Quarter" of antarctica. by this point bill had agreed to go south with scott on his planned expedition, but was still playing the mediator between him and shackles.

anyway, together scott and wilson basically bullied shackleton into signing an agreement saying he would not go to the places that scott did not want him to go Unless He Absolutely Had To.

but guess what lol

he absolutely had to :))))

due to ice conditions, the Nimrod Expedition was forced to set up shop on Cape Evans, on Ross Island just a few miles north of where Discovery had wintered.

and it's not that shackles was happy about this: he felt he was going back on his word. he wrote that "I felt each mile that I went to the west was a horror to me."

EPISODE 4: AFTERMATH

despite shackleton having truly done his best to abide by his agreement with scott and wilson, the fact that he did end up reaching a new Furthest South—a mere 97 miles from the pole—from the region in which scott considered "his" was the final straw.

wilson and shackleton met when he returned and it seemed that their bond, so strong and close in the early days of the discovery expedition, had been sundered forever.

ok i have to post this whole quote bc its insane

"I wish to God you had done any mortal thing in the whole world rather than break the promise you had made... My opinion as you know was that you ought to have thrown up the whole show, that, you said was out of the question. But why in the name of fortune did you promise to do the second best thing, & then do the very worst!"

DUDE WTF??????

and then wilson goes on to write that he has "broken with [Shackleton] completely" and that he considers shackleton a "regular wrong'un" with "limited and rather low down ambitions" :///

meanwhile shackleton and scott had to go on being cordial to each other in public but definitely were known to dislike each other, coming to further minor blows about another planned shackleton expedition (which ended up being the Mawson expedition)

and during the terra nova expedition scott, wilson, and the rest of the polar party followed shackleton's precise route across the barrier, up the beardmore glacier and the polar plateau towards the pole. scott obsessively compared shackleton's dates and distances to his own on the way south, determined to beat him and achieve those final 97 miles.

which he did.

and then in March 1912 scott and wilson literally Die In Each Other's Arms.

and shackleton was like . well what WAS shackleton like. GREAT QUESTION. WE DON'T KNOW :) bc he didn't talk about it. literally not a word!!!

IN CONCLUSION

scott and shackleton are sometimes depicted as straightforwardly rivals, which is sort of true, but the truth of the trio situation with bill at the heart of it all makes it so much more complicated and fascinating!!!!!! LONG LIVE THE TOXIC POLYCULE

#polar exploration #ernest shackleton #robert falcon scott

277 notes · View notes

dve · 2 months

Note

8, 22, 23, 25

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

fork found in kitchen moment but i find the idea of wake being a "bad/abusive" mother to be totally reductive of wake as a character, and the ideas the text is trying to explore. i know that gideon expresses feelings about her mother both pre- and post- realizing that wake is her mother and she was using her as a tool to open up the tomb -- and those feelings are absolutely valid and very real for gideon to have, so i understand that angle of it. but to me, wake was acting more out of furious desperation and determination to see her goals through and having a baby that she says augustine and mercymorn told her to kill and blow the doors open.

I’m sorry, Nonagesimus. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I should’ve turned and gotten the hell out of there, holed up somewhere to wait until you came back. But I said: “What—about—my mother?” “Excuse me. I am wrong. I should not use that term,” said the necromantic saint. She rolled both her shoulders back and wiped those thin dilute tears of blood off her cheeks. “How she would have hated the word mother.”

[...]

“You sent me out there to kill a baby and open those doors. Whose baby didn’t matter on my end. I carried that thing under my heart … threw up every morning that first trimester … felt it kick … had to induce labour and give birth in a shuttle, alone, knowing by then that Gideon was catching up … Do you know, I gave that thing a nickname, my whole pregnancy? I used to call it Bomb.”

i think wake is living in a world where sentimental feelings towards the baby she's carrying is not an option when it comes down to what she's trying to do and what she's trying to achieve, and even then, when wake shoots mercymorn and says goodbye to gideon that feels very sad to me, and tells me that it isn't nearly as one-note as i think a lot of people wish it were. again: i understand the desire to have it be one note, but the series demands you exercise your brain a little more than that imo.

I didn’t know what to say—Thank you? Is this like round five now? I didn’t have to say anything, because her mouth opened, and the voice was Cytherea’s but the gravelly, hard-as-nails tone wasn’t. “Goodbye,” she said.

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

gideon was the one who saluted harrowhark with his cigarette, not pyrrha! also blood of eden's whole deal. generally i'd love to get a day-in-the-life with pash and aim. + pyrrha's grief for gideon the first that people just sort of brush past when i see her characterized, and how it acts in opposition to camilla and palamedes' whole deal throughout nona. maybe favorite isn't the right word to use for the last one but interesting is.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

i genuinely can't think of an answer to this one tbh. maybe pash/nona? but i wasn't ever opposed to pash/nona necessarily, i just find crown/pash or even cam/pash a little more appealing to my tastes.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

we shouldn't be discussing racism in the fandom and the way characters of color, specifically black characters (i'm thinking of judith + marta + gideon the first + pyrrha-in-gideon's-body) are treated in fandom spaces because tmuir is white / because the empire has somehow liberated itself of the issues of racism and homophobia etc. i think it's a copout for many white fans who are uncomfortable with discussing these things.

choose violence w me

#mine #misc #thanks babe <3

26 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 3 months

Note

TF2 Prompt

Yan!Romantic Demoman with GN!Darling, who is kidnapped by him

27.) "Our aniversary is coming up... it's been 2 years now...!"

From your prompt set

Sure! Demoman color not specified so it's general.

Yandere! Demoman Prompt 27

"Our aniversary is coming up... it's been 2 years now...!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Post-Kidnapping plot, Stockholm syndrome implied, Manipulation, Mentioned past restraints, Past violence implication (Not towards you), Slight spice, Dubious relationship.

"Our aniversary is coming up... it's been two years now...!"

Those words strike a certain fear in your gut. You guess the fear would've been stronger two years ago. However... now it's just a dull pang, a feeling that just brings up memories.

Most of your fight has left you. You should be happy, shouldn't you? You live in a mansion... with a man who would do nearly anything for you.

Such as kill those around you... and kidnap you....

You nearly don't believe the words Tavish spills as he slumps over you in bed, squeezing you tight. Has it really been two years? You've been a prisoner for two years?

Are you... even really a prisoner now? He lets you roam the large mansion, he spoils you.... Tavish does treat you right....

Yet part of you still yearns for the life you once had.

The thought makes you sad as you stare out the window, the sun shining upon you on the bed you share with Tavish. Tavish, said man who brought this new life to you, snuggles closer and kisses your neck softly. The gestures makes your heart flutter for a moment.

Are you... a prisoner?

"Such an exciting milestone, isn't it, love?" Tavish whispers, smiling against your skin. "We've both come so far."

By that he's most likely referring to you fighting him years before. When you tried to escape. When he had to chain you to keep you in line....

But now you're so obedient. Now you roam beside him like a spouse should. You give into every touch and don't leave the house.

To reward such behavior... you're spoiled.

His cute little house spouse that he gets to wake up to every morning.

You nod in response to his praise and press yourself closer to him. He takes it as an invitation to turn you around and kiss you. When he pulls away, his eyes are full of love.

"I'd do just about anything for you..." Tavish purrs. "On our anniversary I want to treat you."

A foolish thought would be him letting you outside. The thought seems too good to be true. You may be well behaved... but you doubt he'll let you out

Plus... outside is scary, isn't it?

"What did you have in mind?" You ask as Tavish kisses your forehead.

"A date... maybe some drinks... dinner... pleasing you...." Tavish lists off, smirking playfully at the last bit as he taps your thigh.

Your cheeks flush at the implication, causing you to hide in his chest. Tavish laughs softly before wrapping his arms tightly around you. You listen softly to his heart... and the birds outside.

You wonder which you love more...

The warm sound of him... or the outside seemingly calling you...

You doubt you can have both.

"I don't want moments like this to end." Tavish thinks aloud as he looks down at your sleepy form. "But, if we're going to make plans, then we should get up."

With a groan you allow him to let you go. Tavish sits up and gets himself dressed and ready for the day. Yet you remain in bed... watching outside.

When was the last time you were out there? Free like the birds chirping? Was it really two years ago?

Two years....

The thought echoes in your mind. You space out as you sit up, staring through the curtains. You live a life of luxury now... aren't you happy?

As if sensing your thoughts, Tavish closes the curtains. Your view to the outside is blocked suddenly. All that greets your vision... is him.

It's always been him.

"Doing okay, love?" Tavish asks, concern on his face as you snap out of your thoughts.

"Yeah...." You respond, pleasing Tavish.

"How about I help you get ready?" Tavish asks. Nearly robotically, you accept. It's not like you can't get ready yourself... right?

All of your thoughts sit heavy in your head. You really can't do anything without him now, can you? Tavish is your life now....

Was this a good trade? Your freedom and the outside world for Tavish and luxury? The thought makes your head spin....

So why think?

All you should focus on is Tavish, your love. You should be happy. If anything... taking you in was a blessing, he's saved you. You don't even need to lift a finger now!

So... you cast away your bittersweet thoughts of the outside... you decide to shove away your past... you should be happy.

After all... it's your anniversary, right?

#yandere team fortress 2 #yandere tf2 #yandere demoman

41 notes · View notes

nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 4 months

Text

Helpless part 13 (Hello I hope someone is listening)

"Morning Death boy."

"What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock I the morning."

"Goodnight Giraffe."

"Get up, we're getting breakfast."

"Let me sleep."

"Nope." Nico was refusing to get up so Will decided to do the only logical thing and pick him up.

"Put me down Solace."

"Don't think I will Death breath."

"That's a new one."

"Thought of it on the spot."

"Good for you Sunshine, now put me down."

"Not a fan of that idea." Will ran, carrying a very pissed Nico. "Hey Percy."

"Hi Will, should I ask why you're carrying Nico and also how you haven't gotten murdered yet?"

"Well he wouldn't get up so it was to only logical solution."

"Fuck you." Nico muttered,

"I wish you luck on not getting murdered."

"You know I could just shadow travel away?"

"No you quite literally can not, it would kill you."

"Great."

"Neeks."

"Do you have a death wish Will?"

"He's harmless."

"I have killed people William."

"I can confirm this, I was nearly a victim."

"Let's not forget you also tired to kill me."

"Why are you two trying to kill each other?"

"We don't talk about that."

"He's annoying as fuck." Percy and Nico said at the same time, locking eyes with each other, leading to a mildly concerned Will.

"Okay.... I'm going to pretend this never happen." Will placed Nico on the floor.

"Finally."

"Di Angelo, me and Jason-"

"-Jason and I."

"Not you to, same thing. We have decided to kidnap you, you're finally joining us on the big three table."

"Why exactly?"

"You'll get lonely."

"I'm perfectly fine being alone."

"Too bad, sucks for you."

"Stronzo." Nico muttered under his breath before waking off to join Jason, Percy went to follow him but Will pulled him back.

"Make sure he eats three full meals a day, shove it down his throat if you have to. I'm not joking, if he's refusing to eat or drink hold him down and make sure he eats for the next few months. I don't know how he's still alive at this point."

"I'll make sure he eats; mate you alright? Your eyes are bloodshot, when's the last time you slept?"

"A few days ago, I'm fine."

"A few days?! Mate, you need to sleep."

"I'll survive, pure chaos in the infirmary. Oh, don't tell Nico this but, you know how Aphrodite kids can speak French because it's the language of love? I can speak Itallian because it's the language of music, so if you were wondering, when he walked off he called you an asshole."

"Eh, not surprising. I'll catch you around Will."

"Yeah see you round." Willl walked off to join his siblings at the Apollo table.

***

"Don't think we didn't hear that, you're taking today off and no night watch until Tuesday." Kayla said pulling Will down and shoving a piece of toast in his hand, "And you're eating breakfast today, you've skipped it for a week."

"I've been busy."

"Would you like me to show you a list of every single person you've told to stop skipping meals? Let me start the list, Nico, Selina, Leo, Beckendorf, Annabeth, Michael-"

"Okay, okay you win. But I can't take the day off-"

"Not optional, go pine over Nico for the day or something. Maybe even, you know, sleep? Can't remember the last time you did that, more than a week."

"Oh shut up."

"Actually, I have a great idea." Austin interrupted, "Go talk to Cecil and Lou Ellen, they tired to kidnap you many, many times."

"Shit, yeah I should probably go talk to them." Will tried to get up but was held down by his younger siblings,

"Not so fast, you're still eating breakfast." After being force fed three full plates and swearing on the river of Styx that he would get eight hours of sleep that night he was finally allowed to leave.

***

"Finally, we missed you. We've been waiting for you to get off work for the past week." Lou Ellen said punching him in the arm.

"I should probably tell my siblings the kidnapping's off..."

"The what?!"

"Well me and Cecil tried, but Kayla found out we were coming and stopped us."

"So then I thought if I got the rest of the Hermes kids in on it they couldn't stop all of us."

"Of course you did."

"Well you're always in the infirmary."

"I've been busy for a few days, that's all."

"Well I know you haven't slept properly for the last eight days, and that you always insist on taking night watch."

"And anything difficult, and Nico."

"So? I'm fine, just busy."

"You're overworking."

"No I'm not."

"Will when was the last time you took a break?"

"Last year, Michael and Lee's funeral, I took half a day off."

"You can't do that to yourself."

"I can't let Kayla and Austin burn themselves out."

"Gods, I can't do this right now. I'm going to trust your siblings to talk some sense into you; want to go steal something?"

"I'm down, we just need to be back by three. In time for the thing." Lou Ellen smirked,

"Ohh rightttt."

"What did you do?!"

"You'll find out Sun boy."

"I'm scared."

"You should be."

***

_______

I wonder, if nobody is listening to my voice. Am I making any sound at all?

I hope you're prepared for what's coming soon.

24 notes · View notes

thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year

Text

Kaz Brekker x gn! Reader - Haunting Y/n L/n

A/n: This came from the pits of hell apparently

Heartbreak week masterlist?

Summary: A ghost from the past that doesn't quite feel too far gone whispers in your ear making you wonder whether you imagined it or not

Warnings: death, heartbreak, murder, swearing, PTSD, trauma, spiritual stuff, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pronouns used: you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romanitc!) kaz x reader (platonic!) crows x reader]

You were shaking with anger, and horrible tears tracked down your face, while your eyes held the sorrow of a million soldiers. You had just botched the job today all because of one reason - Kaz Brekker was gone.

He had been for a few weeks now, fucking Pekka Rollins had killed him, his face right before he died remained forever engraved in your head. As that moment played in your head over, and over again. You didn't want to remember, you would beg Kaz to let you go every day and night. You feared sleep, yet you feared the daytime where you would see him everywhere.

Generally the job was going well, till you heard him whisper in your ear, his unmistakable presence behind you and a ghost of a hand over your arm; "They have you surrounded."

Had first you didn't believe it, you were just hallucinating again, Kaz wasn't there, ghosts weren't fucking real! It was fine, you were just being delusional! Yet you couldn't shake the feeling that this was different from precedent times - in the previous ones he would shout at you for letting him die. This just didn't feel the same way as those other ones did, but it didn't make you feel any less crazy.

Then it turned out to be true.

You didn't want to tell the Crows, they already worried about you enough with the waking up screaming and the zoning out, you didn't need to give them a reason to take you off every job for the rest of your life. Permanently.

But you knew he was there somehow, because you didn't have a fucking sixth sense, and really... Okay, maybe you didn't have more than that but what else could you say?

So then you went on another heist, and someone had pushed you out of a way of a bullet but as soon as you caught a glimpse of that gloved handed criminal he had disappeared into thin air.

Then the next one you had been captured, and you couldn't help but shiver in fear while they placed the cuffs on you. You knew who your captor was and you knew that they didn't have a very good reputation with keeping their temper. It was then where you had faced the very real possibility that you were going to die at the hands of a terrifying human being.

There, while you waited in your cell with fear having it's iron grip on you, leaving you with nothing but to relinquish to your fate.

Then he appeared.

Kaz fucking Brekker had come out of the shadows, seemingly floating off the ground the tiniest bit with his normal attire that he used to wear. Yet he looked nearly translucent like he wasn't supposed to be there - as if he had pulled every string possible in the universe to show up there.

Even then you knew that this was Kaz Brekker but not living no - Kaz was definitely dead. This was a ghost. You knew this because of the way he was looking at you, unguarded, walls completely down, Kaz Brekker had only given a fraction of that to you while he was alive because that's all he could afford to give.

He had gotten you out of there, that cell, the fate of certain death. Since then he started to talk to you;

"Can other people see you?"

"Of course they can, don't be stupid L/n why do you think I've been so scarce?" His ghostly form floated next to you as you did some paperwork for the Dregs.

"Why do you haunt me? Why not Pekka Rollins? We both know he deserves it more then me."

He didn't say anything for a long time, not until he had come over to you and placed a hand on your cheek forcing you to look into those eyes. Oh, you hated those eyes.

"I'm bound to you angel, it's... Complicated to say the least but that's just how it is. It's like the same way that you run everything and keep my memory alive."

You threw the papers you were just working on at him yet they just went right threw him because according to him he could only touch things when he focused or you. He could touch you whenever.

Your face was contorted with rage and grief.

"You've left me before! Why can't you just leave again!"

"I can't."

Today though, you got ready for a job with the Crows, trying so hard to not let your eyes flick over to the shadows. It had been awhile after you had found out Kaz was bound to you, and you just couldn't make your peace with it. All you could see every time you saw him was his death over and over again. But that didn't mean the Crows knew, they didn't even know that the Bastard of the Barrel was back.

You heard his voice in your ear while everyone else were discussing the plans; of course because he didn't want anyone of you to join him in death.

"We need to go in through the west doors not the east."

Your voice startles the Crows, you don't usually talk very much anymore and your eyes were just unfocused a minute ago leaving no clue that you were even listening to their conversation at all. They had long since gotten used to it, so to hear you speak up for the first time in a while was a shock.

"Why?" Wylan questioned you while everyone seemed to be asking the same question silently.

"Just trust me alright? If not then trust... the spirits or whatever the fuck you want to call them."

They pause for a moment before deciding that they would go with your suggestion. They had to trust you, you were a crow too and trusting is a two way street. Even if the way you put it was strange to say the least.

Though they would soon find out what you truly had meant.

The crows were all fighting together, although they had taken your advice there were still guards after all of you.

Most of you, however were in view, were spread out, and you were alone and backed onto a cliff.

"You're never alone." A wicked voice whispered happily in your mind even though the circumstances were anything but.

One of the men pushed as you were distracted by your own manic thoughts, causing you to fall backwards.

An arm grabbed your waist from behind as Kaz stopped your fall and pulled you right up next to him with an unmatched fury in his eyes.

It was not time for you to join him in death, if he had it his way it would never be.

Pulling out his trademark cane he started wrecking havoc, and were killing them off left and right. All for ever laying a hand on you, his angel.

Eventually they all laid dead, as it was impossible to kill a ghost, then Kaz turned around and floated over to you.

For some reason or another you snapped, you didn't know why but seeing him there again like that. Fighting like he used to, it was just too much for your brain to handle. You were shaking with tears streaming down your face as Kaz slowly placed a hand on your cheek. You let out a horrid sob as you fell to the ground and looked up at the sky.

All you could see was his death, you saw him die in your mind everyday. You wanted to move on from your despair, to free your mind from this torment. But you didn't want him to leave your side, because that would mean leaving again. Yet it was all too much, you wanted him but it hurt so much when you did.

The crows looked at the scene in front of them in disbelief. Kaz Brekker had done the impossible again, of course the fucker figured out how to be a visible ghost.

"Leave me alone Kaz!" You wept. "I can't-"

"Shh, love." He whispered in your ear and brought your lips to his.

It was incredible, and some part of you was over the moon that he could touch you like this, even if it took death to do so. Yet you could feel that ghostly timid to his lips, and you pulled away as a cry tore through your throat.

"Please Kaz, I can't take seeing you die again!"

Kaz looked down at you with sorrowful eyes.

"I'm sorry angel, but I can't."

And you sobbed, because you had him right in front of you but you so desperately wanted to see him alive.

Words 1456

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

Heartbreak week: @igotanidea @hawkinsbaby

148 notes · View notes

colibrie · 5 months

Text

Day 7 (Follows Day 6 and Day 4): Made to Watch, "Can you hear me?"

"You heroes are so moronically predictable," the blade master drawled, biceps bulging beneath the crimson mesh of his uniform he crossed his arms, head shaking patronizingly as his underlings fought to pin the Hero down. "It's a little sad if I am being honest. The tiniest hint of peril, and you throw yourself into the chasm without a second thought. How your lot ever managed to defeat our magnificent Lord Ganon eludes me."

"It eluded him too, right up until I split his monstrous face open," Wild snarled, grunting in pain when one of the foot soldiers served swift retribution to his words with a swift backhand.

"Our divine lord is the monster? When your goddess is the one sending children to fight her battles?!"

Rage hotter than the lava's of Death Mountain surged in his view, flooding his mouth with savage copper as the blade master delivered a casual kick to the tiny, twitching body at his feet. Wind made no sound at the rough treatment, no protest or cry of pain, just a soft gasp as the kicks momentum flipped him onto his back. Their sailor skin was pallid and sickly looking, his sun bleached locks darkened and matted to his head with with sweat and sand. Hazy blue orbs flickered in and out of view beneath nearly closed lids, limbs shaking with residual tremors as roots of lightning disappeared under his tattered tunic. Wilds felt his heart shatter at the ragged little breaths that struggled to lift their youngest's chest, split lips crusted with blood and bile open in an unconscious attempt to pull in more oxygen.

"You have me, let him go!"

"No," the Yiga replied, voice laced with poisonous satisfaction as he casually planted one boot on Winds chest, arms unfolding to reach back and draw his windcarver. "No, I am going to make you watch him die. We'll take you back to HQ, and you will watch as we track down and kill every last hero in your little party. You'll watch us master the time portals, and then, I will personally kill you and present all of your heads to the dark lord as a gift to his resurrection."

The bleeding eye on the behemoths mask nearly glowed with glee as he slowly raise his sword, savoring the struggles of one prey, and the deathly stillness of the other.

"For Ganon..."

Thunder roared from the clear blue sky, and the blademaster slowly fell back, his dead body barely making a sound as it hit the sand. The foot soldiers scattered as a wave of Gerudo warriors surged across the sand behind their seals, ululating war cries as they ran their foe's down. A smaller group split off, shields and limbs flying as they sprinted towards their fallen friends.

"Wild! Wind!"

"He need's help!" Wild croaked, wincing as his injuries made themselves known.

"You both do. Lets start with your head! What the hell were you thinking going off on your own?" Sky snapped, rare anger flaring bright in his eyes as steadied Wilds shoulders.

"Sky, if you wanna tear him a new one, wait until we get back to Gerudo town and then get in line," Twilight growled, knocking his forehead against Wild's temple as he pressed his hands down on a particularly jagged gash.

"Wind," Wild whimpered, cornflower eyes locked on the huddle of bodies around their youngest.

"Sailor, can you hear me?!" Warriors asked, voice full of the force calm he used when trying to maintain a disordered battle field. "Wake up buddy."

"Signs of dehydration. Pulse is fast and uneven, breathing is shallow...and I've got multiple electrical burns," Legend stated, voice and face tight with forced blankness. "Based on the patterns, the sick bastards must have used shock arrows."

"Potions aren't an option. I don't think we can get him to drink anything with the way his muscles are spasming," Time added, his larger body dwarfing Winds as hands steadied the pirates neck.

"What about finding a fairy?" Hyrule chimed in, pink light coating his hands as he swiftly pressed them to Winds chest.

"He doesn't have time for us to hunt for one," Four shook his head, purple eyes hard as he leaned back and whistled for one of the nearby seals. "We need to get back to Gerudo town, now."

#linked universe #angst fairy writes #linked universe wind #linked universe wild #linked universe legend #linked universe four #linked universe time #linked universe sky #linked universe twilight #linked universe hyrule #linked universe warriors #linked universe yiga #gerudo desert #wild made a poor life choice #wind didn't get to make any choices #background riju mastering the thunderhelm

18 notes · View notes