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tacticaldiary · 9 months

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I love your fics so much 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x wife reader where he has a nightmare about losing them

Solace For The Rough Nights

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love."

Masterlist

Ghost was running.

Footsteps crunching on dried leaves, he weaves through the trees, shaking off the sounds of harshly barked orders, as crisp and as hold as the cold air around him.

The trees around him are densely packed together, a mixing pot of leaves, roots, and coarsely misplaced footsteps.

He can't remember how he got here, or what op he was on and it sends his normally razor-focused mind into a slight frenzy.

Ghost is a man of action. A plan and a way to execute it was all he needed to bring back a victory in tow, but right now he has neither of those things, hasn't even a bare recollection of ever having those things in the first place.

What was a Ghost without a purpose to haunt?

He stumbles.

It's already an odd situation. Ghost doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's a well-oiled machine, self-sufficient and cut-throat. Missteps are simply not viable with him, especially not something as simple as tripping.

Catching himself on his arm, he swings around, gun already aimed towards the ground, sees a vest-clad figure sprawled over the ground under him.

He fires without thinking. A bullet straight to the head, brain matter splattering the trees and forest, the expanse of his arms. The impact of the bullet jolts the body onto its back and-

Every part of him freezes in pure, undiluted horror.

Because his wife stares up at the sky, eyes unseeing, eerily still. Her hair bloodstained, splayed out onto the ground caught in twigs and branches, face filthy with dirt and crimson that he drew from her.

He's not sure when the trembling starts, only that it begins with his hands and travels up his spine, singeing his soul with a terror that would marr him forever. Circumstances completely forgotten, he drops to his knees in front of her, hands shaking as he calls out her name, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse as if he hadn't just blown her brain out and-and fuck it was still on his arms, his hands, the blood was everywhere and there was no way Ghost had just taken the one thing he wanted to keep in his life-

A strangled sound leaves his lips, not a laugh and not quite a cry. He wants to laugh at the irony.

He's always been so afraid that someone would hurt her at his expense, that someone would take her away, tear her apart from him.

He never thought it'd be him who carried out the deed.

Nothing comes out of his mouth, because nothing can fix this. He gathers her into his arms, shaking silently. He deserves this, deserves to suffer in silence with what he's done.

The release of crying was not one he deserved.

"Fuck, I-...you're okay." His voice breaks, rough and gritty, and desperate. "I didn't-I swear I-..."

Someone's voice sounds behind him but he refuses to look back, letting the screaming in his head, the crescendo of grief consume him. His hands never let up from touching her, pressing her against himself as if his own heartbeat may bring her to life.

How could someone like her face the end when someone as disgustingly tainted and bloodstained as him continued on living?

It wasn't right, but then again, the world never was fair.

He registers he's panicking, knows that he can't quite get a full breath in and that the noise of talking is getting louder but death itself would be the only thing to take him away from her.

"..i..on."

He squeezes his eye shut, rasping out suffocating breaths.

"Simon...Simon!"

His eyes snap open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his throat. It's blindingly dark, and he's...there's hands on him. Steeling himself he sits up hazy and confused, lingering panic making his throat close up.

A click and the room fills with light.

Room. He's in...he's in his room. He's in their room.

"You okay?"

Her voice makes him shiver violently, ignites his frayed nerves. He's almost afraid to look over lest he find her bloody and mangled, because she was, wasn't she? He'd seen it, held her, felt guilt choke him and...

But there weren't any leaves here. No trees, and no blood on his hand (that was the first thing his eyes had snapped down to confirm.)

With a shaky breath, he finally turns his head towards her voice.

Some of the hastily built scaffolding inside him collapses at the sight of her. Alive. Well. Clean.

Worried.

Patient as always, she's waiting for him to get his bearing, not wanting to swarm and overwhelm him.

"Simon?" Her voice is a crack of softness a man like him doesn't deserve. The sheets rustle as she shifts closer. "You were tossing around, mumbling something." She furrows her brows, coming to sit in front of him. "You're all sweaty. Do you feel ill?" The back of her hand presses against his forehead, and the touch snaps something in him.

Breaks apart the harrowing gates of relief, but also smashes the wave of diluted panic he'd been too disorientated to feel.

His hand snaps to her wrist, a gentle and firm hold. Her eyes widen but she doesn't interrupt, lets him press his lips against her pulse point with trembling fingers. "You're all right." He breathes out, half to himself.

"I'm right here." She reassures him immediately. It loosens up his shoulders a little, but he still reaches out to her, pulls her close into a hug so crushingly tight it knocks the breath out of her.

She hugs him tighter, still.

Simon wasn't a hugger, so something must really have shaken him up.

"Hey..." She mumbles against his shoulder.

Simon pulls back, hands travelling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, to press against her temples. His gaze flickers down to his own arms, then back to her head.

"Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, letting him ground himself. His hands tangle in her loose hair, weaving the strands between his fingers as if he might pick out phantom leaves and twigs. "Why so worked up?"

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"You didn't."

The sharp interrupting startles him enough to still his hands from where they've been mapping out her skin to ensure it was still unmarred.

"You didn't." She repeats. Gently untangling his hand from her hair, she brings it to press against her chest, right over where her heart is. "I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love." She smiles and Simon feels his heart twist. The way she leans forward to press her lips to his is a kind of gentle he's still getting used to. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon." She whispers against his lips, a warmth that's a welcome reprieve from the shivers that wracked his body moments prior.

They sit there taking in each other's presence until Simon's thoughts slow from a sprint to a run to a walk, until the taste of copper, and the tang of iron fade from his senses.

Until it's just her, just them. In their bed, in their home. Off duty and safe.

When she slides her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him down he goes willingly, lets her straddle him. Never once do his hands leave her, they wrap around her hips to keep her steady.

"Tell me about it?" She asks, hands on his chest. After a moment of thought, Simon shakes his heavy with a long, heavy exhale.

"I'd rather not think about it." He rasps.

"It might help." The gentle shapes she traces on his chest give him something to latch onto. "I don't want you to deal with these nightmares alone." She snakes a hand up to his head, gently tapping his temple. "Don't want you to get stuck here without me. We're a team, right?"

"I suppose we are." He hums. Simon considers changing the subject, letting it go and falling back to sleep, but the need to get these vile thoughts out of him...

So he talks.

For once, he talks.

Simon tells her in halting phrases and clenched fists about what he remembers, how he held the gun, how there was no hesitation pulling the trigger.

His tension is met with hums and soothing circles rubbed onto his skin, keeping him with her even when he unravels the threads of his worst nightmare.

"I remember thinking how I was the one who took your life." He swallows harshly. "How I lost someone else...how it'd have been my fault." She doesn't comment on the fact that his grip on her hips has tightened considerably as he spoke.

"Well you haven't shot me yet, so I think we're safe for now."

Her attempt at a joke is met with a blank glare, but she snickers anyway. "Look Simon, if it'd be anybody I'd have liked it to be you-"

"No."

Her smile falters at the way he pushes up onto his elbows. "No?"

"I wouldn't..." He gathers his thoughts, clenches his jaw briefly. "I'd rather cut my own hands off, love."

"That's a bold claim, but-"

"It's a promise."

The conviction he says it with renders her speechless. His eyes so firm and determined and honest in the meagre light of their nightlamp sparks a warm heat through her, a reminder of how much she loves the man under her, of why she adores him.

He means what he says. It should scare her, someone so willing to go that far, but instead it's a fierce reassurance that her passion is returned. Maybe not in hugs or dopey smiles, but instead in moments like these, with promises that carve their way into their very bones, etching the proof of devotion into permanence.

She tips her head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. "I love you, Simon." She whispers. "So fucking much. I'm not going anywhere, alright. Not without you."

A hand wraps around the back of her neck, tugs her down to crash their lips together, the only affirmation she needs. He pulls her down until they're a tangle of limbs and breaths.

He doesn't need to say it back. Not when his hands burn sparks into her skin, when his arms around her guarantee safety and protection like nobody else can provide.

"You're here." He breathes, like he needs to.

"I'm here." A kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. "I'm here."

And he finally believes it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/08/2023)

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evasive-anon · 4 months

Text

I'M DONE WITH THE LIES AND DECEIT JASON TODD DOESN'T HAVE RED HAIR

Or at least he doesn't have red hair in current canon or most of the continuity and y'all should get with it.

We've all seen it, there's a post about Jason and someone comments on the post and brings up how when Jason first appeared as robin he had red hair and he had to dye it black to be robin.

This is not true in current canon and only had a brief window of existence in the comics so lets dig into the different hair colors we've seen on Jason, they are as follows:

Blonde (Pre-Crisis, before 1985)

Black (post 1985, like 23-24 years of Post Crisis?? a long time)

Red (~2 years of Post Crisis 2009-2011)

Black (New 52, 2011-2016)

Black (Rebirth, 2016 onward, current canon)

Dropping detailed receipts below and god some of these panels are wacky:

Pre-Crisis/ Golden Age - BLONDE HAIR

First appearance of Jason Todd was a little blonde circus boy like a Great Value recolored version of Dick Grayson and if I have to live with that knowledge then we all do.

A lot of people claim this version of Jason also had red hair and for anyone who wants to say this blatantly yellow hair isn’t blonde compare it to Vicki Vale’s actual red hair which is orange:

Vicki Vale (orange)

Jason Todd (its fucking yellow)

The assertion that Jason dyed his hair to be robin are not entirely false in this version, in Batman (1940) #366 Jay did dye his hair black so he could pass as Dick cause he wasn't officially robin yet but wanted to help Batman. Dying his hair made him look so much like Dick it actually did trick Batman and the Joker which is weird since Jason's like a child and Dick is like legally an adult at point but whatever. Either way it wasn’t Batman making him dye it, in fact Bruce was unhappy about it.

Blonde Jason is obviously no longer canon and hasn't been since.

Post Crisis/ Batman New Adventures - BLACK HAIR

Jason was first shown with black hair when he stole a tire off the Batmobile. This iteration of Jason's introduction is the one we all know today and is considered by most to be Jason's *real* debut.

This comic run is no longer canon but is often used as the backbone for new canon content.

Post Crisis 2009 to 2011 - RED HAIR

OK, here is where all the red hair lore comes in. During Dick's Batman run with Damian as Robin the writer (fuck you, Grant Morrison) decided to introduce this shit:

This made not only made no fucking sense in Post-Crisis continuity, but also Jason look stupid as fuck.

For some reason people have snatched this panel and held on to it with all their might. Which like - I mean, the idea of Bruce making a kid dye their hair to be robin is super fucking funny but like, c'mon dude. There are so many real reasons to judge Bruce already lmao.

Jason kept having red hair until the New 52. Its no longer canon.

New 52 - BLACK HAIR

Giving you guys all caste Jay for this shot cause I still simp for that storyline, he deserves the magic fire swords fr.

He's back to black hair and we're almost to current canon.

DC Rebirth (current canon) - BLACK HAIR

We made it to current canon and his hair is still natural black bby. LETS GO.

#jason todd has black hair #jason todd #dc robin #dc comics #robin ii #jason todd lore drop #batman #comic panels #rants #original post #dc #robin dc #long post #ENDING THE GINGER ALLEGATIONS FR

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drmslastmorning · 3 months

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Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream breaks Technoblade's trust in prison

A lesson on trust.

Characters: Dream, Technoblade

Words: 5.2k (one-shot)

Warnings: panic attacks, canon typical violence. nothing big.

During Technoblades stay in the prison, Dream gets a little desperate to prove that he is not to be trusted.

Being with Technoblade has lifted Dream’s spirits. It's lifted them a bit much for his taste, honestly. Considering everything the other has done has been quite simple: Exist, take up already sparse food, talk far too much bullshit and annoy the hell out of him. He's not a fan of how easily the piglin hybrid can read him.

Technoblade’s involvement itself is calculated: it's within the plan, it's accounted for. He hasn't accounted for the way he'd make him smile, and distract him from the hell that is the prison.

That shouldn't be a problem in and of itself, Dream measures. He can stay focused regardless.

He doesn't know if the company is within the plan. Of course, Technoblade would've been involved eventually: For the exchange of a favor. But he's been here for a few weeks now. At least, that's what Dream presumes from what little sense of time he's gotten left. He couldn't know for sure and the realization that he couldn't tell leaves his tail swaying nervously. It's somehow easier to sit with your thoughts on your own. Correction: it's easier to ignore them on your own. It's easier to dissociate when someone isn't constantly chatting or snoring your ear off.

Dream doesn't sleep. Technoblade does it far too much. He guesses it's how the other planned on passing the time, and it's not really a bad bet. It's not like there is much else to do. It gives Dream something to do: Study everything there is about Technoblade. Not really intentionally, of course. He's not intending to stare, but could you blame him, when he's the only positive interaction he's had in so long?

The piglin hybrid sleeps messily. Loudly . He eats a lot, and he knows just how to get on his nerves. Though, he guesses he was already well aware of the last two. They've shared a few meals and more arguments.

Dream's passed out only very few times in the time Technoblade has been here, to the point the latter is unsure he's seen it at all. He prefers it that way.

"What are you, anyways?" Rings the question and Dream knows the other didn't miss the way he flinches at the sudden sound. "W-what's that supposed to mean." He says it like a dismissive statement, much less like a question. It's clear he understood exactly what Technoblade means, but doesn't intend to respond unless further clarified. He knows he doesn't pry. "Y'know." Pink hair messily falls over his shoulder. He undid the braid a while ago, and redid it at least 20 times since then.

Dream does know. The pen slips out of his fingers and he curses under his breath as it draws a messy line across the paper, him desperately reaching for it not helping.

"I don't," he lies, "you're distracting me."

Technoblade raises an eyebrow, toys with a potato that he's sure is going to start growing mold within the next 24 hours. "Species-wise, of course." While Dream's gotten a very good look of the other, the piglin hybrid has been kept very.. in the dark, to say the least. Dream makes sure to hide his face, and Techno hasn't attempted to catch a glance whenever he was distracted enough. He'd feel like he's intruding, if he did. Surely there's a reason he always wore that mask, after all. It's rude, he's concluded. "You haven't really let me catch a glance."

"What's it matter to you?" He mumbles, retrieving the pen and annoyedly smudging at the ink that's now splotched all over the paper. Smudging it more isn't really helping, weirdly enough.

"It's something to talk about, Dream."

"I don't feel like talking."

"I know. You never do. It's kinda your thing." He snorts.

"That's-- that's not true. You know that's not true. I just- You already made me ruin this whole page."

"Put that thing down for 5 minutes, Dream. I'm pretty sure we've got plenty of time for you to finish that."

It looks like he's right, but somehow, sometimes Dream fears, he might blink, and Technoblade might disappear into thin air.

"Fine." Dream hisses through gritted teeth, closing the book to set it aside. He leaves the pen amidst the pages to keep note of where he was. "Your tail reminds me of Ranboo’s." Techno remarks, and as if on command, it whips against cold obsidian and then curls up to hide behind his back. "What- are you just going to- analyze things about me?"

"Well, you're not telling me."

"That's still, like, weird." Dream argues, shaking his head. Something about it makes him really uncomfortable. Something about it is something he didn't account for and it makes him nervous.

"Man, you've been eyeing me up and down the entire time and I can't even catch a quick glance." He snickers at the immediate physical rise he gets out of Dream.

" WHAT?? " Oh, that blush is obvious. "I've- You're an idiot, I've literally-" Dream stumbles over his words, messy locks not disguising enough of his face to hide his expression.

"You're- You're stupid. You're just- you're just saying things. That's not even true!"

"I don't know bro, for an innocent man you're getting real defensive."

"I'm not-- That's not-- I literally have not been doing that." Defeatedly, Dream taps his foot against the obsidian, knees dragged to his chest.

"Uh-huh." Technoblade nods, beginning to redo his braid for the third time that day.

"Fuck yourself, seriously, Techno. I don't even know where- where you got that from."

"Maybe from the guy who's been eyeing me up and down."

" I HAVE NOT??? " (Dream’s heart beats in his ears and it tastes bitter and it's uncalculated and it makes no sense and he has to remind himself to breathe.) And it beats. And it beats. And it beats.

"So, what are you?"

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?" Dream responds, annoyed. "I'm curious and bored." Technoblade answers, too honestly. Too honestly for Dream’s taste. Dream hasn't planned for this. Dream doesn't like the way he sees through him. "The answer- the answer is going to disappoint you, then." He gnaws on his lip for a moment. "Because I don't- I don't actually know ."

Techno raises an eyebrow curiously. He snorts. "You seriously don't, huh?"

"Yeah- uh- why the hell- why would I lie about that?"

"Uh, I mean, you've got the same tail as Ranboo." Techno deduces. "And he's an Enderman. I think?" He shakes his head. "But you're also not really letting me see anything else."

"You're being weird." Dream pushes, hiding his face in his knees.

"Not any weirder than you."

"Can I see your face?" Techno asks, and is surprised by his own question.

"What???" Dream returns, almost instinctively letting more hair fall into his face.

"Your face." He presses, shifting with his coat. "I wanna see your face. It's been so long since I last did."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." Technoblade shrugs, feigning disinterest. Maybe he's just curious. Maybe there's more to it. Dream hates the way he can't tell and he hates the way it makes his heart beat and he hates the way he squirms uncomfortably and he hates the way the proposed intimacy makes him feel and he hates it.

Dream catches his heart in his throat and chokes it with both of his hands.

"No." He responds, met by a dejected, "awwwh", from the piglin hybrid. "Just a quick glance."

"No." He repeats, with more tone in his voice.

"Just a quick one."

"I said no." Dream cringes, crossing his arms. "It's not like I've never seen it before." Techno shrugs.

"Be satisfied with that, then."

"What's the big deal?"

"We're not friends, Techno." His tone of voice seems insincere, but he wants it to be true. They aren't friends. This is purely transactional. Technoblade is here to rescue him on account of a favor. Something is going wrong with whatever he's got planned and now he's trapped here for the time being. It doesn't mean anything.

"Ow." Technoblade shuffles, moves as if something stabbed him. It's dramatics, Dream reminds himself. He's being dramatic. "First off, that hurts." It doesn't, Dream reminds himself. It's theatrics. It's to pass the time, it's to make him feel secure, it's to fool him, it's to- he doesn't know. Make him forget the plan?

"Second off, it's rude. I thought we've been having a real bonding moment here." Technoblade doesn't mean that, Dream reminds himself. "Well- boohoo." He fiddles with his fingers, with the book in his hands. "We're not friends." He has to emphasize that. (lest he forgets. lest he forgets that that too, is part of the plan.)

"I thought we were." Techno reiterates. "I mean, you've been watching me sleep. Would be real weird if we weren't friends."

"Oh my God, Technoblade. I have not-" He cuts himself off, rolling his eyes. He gives up. It's obvious he's just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't understand the point. It's distracting. It's going off the plan. It defies everything Dream did this for. He feels dizzy.

"C'mon Dream, I know you're still grumpy I keep calling you homeless, but I'd say we're friends."

"I'm not- I'm not homeless." (you're the one who kept not believing me I've got a big house filled with Redstone.) The thought makes him laugh bitterly.

Techno raises an eyebrow at the clear silent conversation Dream just had in his head. Some voices tell him something, but they sound drowned. The lack of food is beginning to mess with him bad, Techno eats a lot normally, so while he's not opposed to the potato diet itself, he's really been trying to cut down. If not only to not take away the little food Dream has.

Techno really doesn't like the way Sam clearly doesn't mind feeding him as much - considering he literally even gave him cooked potatoes when he asked for it. (it's all to starve Dream.)

"I know, I know. We're roommates right now, remember?" He snorts, which leads into an amused grunt, then translates into him holding out a baked potato in Dreams direction. "You want some?"

"... What."

"It's baked. Should be better than uh, y’know, the ones you've been chowing down." He gestures at Dream’s stack, which is honestly beginning to show mold.

"Why- how is it- where did you-" Dream stumbles and he looks so extremely bewildered Techno can't help but sneak a little fond smile. (Dream doesn't recognize it as such. His gasping heart categorizes it as him making fun of him.)

"I asked and Sam gave them to me. Under the condition I don't give you any."

Dream frowns. Deeply. He shakes his head. "Under the condition you don't give me any." He repeats, in a tone that makes Techno sick. Wipes the smile off his face and replaces it with a frown. "Hey man, it's not like Sam's gonna know."

"He'll know ." Dream reiterates, shaking his head. He feels sick. Sick. Sick. Resisting everything in himself to not knock it out of Techno’s hand.

"I mean, I'm not telling him. Are you?"

"If- if he asks , if I-if." He stutters over his words, he despises the frown on Techno’s lips. He's not disobeying Sam for some stupid- some potatoes. He could handle himself. The clear favoritism gets to his head, and he needs to turn away so he doesn't just grab the potato and throw it into the lava. Or better yet, he's throwing himself in it next.

Techno sighs. "Alright, man. Just thought I'd offer." He rolls his shoulders, then wordlessly eats it. He's honestly worried Dream might just starve to death one of these days. He certainly doesn't look good.

Dream’s heart beats in his ears. He wishes he could bang his head against the wall until he made a big enough hole for it to escape. Wishes he could reach through his own mouth and pull it up by its bits and pieces and squeeze it until there is finally no feeling left.

In the end he does none of that. In the end he frowns at Techno and doesn't say anything else. In the end he reaches his hands into his hair and tugs until he feels a few strands coming loose.

"You're- driving me crazy." He hisses. And it's unreasonable. And it's a weird mood swing from the Dream who was just confused then horrified and is now- maybe jealous isn't the right word, but he doesn't find any better ones to describe what he is feeling. Speaking of feeling, he hates the way his heart jumps in his mouth when Techno looks at him with that stupid snort. That stupid big nose ring, and those stupid big ears, and those stupid big tusks that hang upwards out of his mouth and-

Breathe. Breathe. "Man, I'm just being friendly." Techno says and it snaps a cord. "You're not! Friendly. You're A- annoying , you're, you're taking up already sparse food, you're, you're clearly being favorited by- mi- by the wa- by Sam -" He tugs and he tugs and he tugs and maybe this way he can get rid of this stupid long hair. "All this has achieved is- you're just stuck here now, too . Why the hell didn't you realize it was a trap? I didn't want you to get involved! You have- you- aaaaah!" He groans, frustrated, tired, exhausted, hungry, and for the first time in the while he's been stuck here he seriously wishes he had died already.

It's stupid. It's such a stupid thing to want to give up over. (was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it? was any of it even worth it.) He thinks he hears Techno say something but it's dampened by the dread that's surrounding him. Maybe he's having a panic attack. Maybe he's having two. Maybe three. four five six seven eight-- he's been doing so well holding himself together but now he's crashing he's falling apart he's grasping at the pieces of a knocked over 3D puzzle and it does little to put it back together.

He's been doing so well smiling and talking with Technoblade whenever Quackity wasn't here he's been doing so well and he's been doing too well and it's exactly why he's tripping all over himself and falling and falling and falling --

It's a harrowing realization. That scaling any mountain is going to involve so much tripping and falling in the future. And it's more harrowing to him that he's decided to do it all alone. It's better that way, he tells himself, but for a moment, Dream would rather be dead than alone.

Maybe, if he gave up, while Technoblade, while Quackity- while it's- while he's not- while- while there's someone there- while he's not alone- while- if he gave up now, at least someone would be by his side while he did-

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. In, and out, and Dream hears a voice, guiding him, and he's breathing.

Breathe. Breathe. He closes his eyes. It's dark, and it's orange from the light of the lava and he's just barely catching himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he can breathe again. He sees pink strands and his first instinct is to--

He reaches out and tugs on Technoblade’s already messy enough braid. "Ow! Is that the thanks I get????? Ow- ow- Dream that hurts-" And he tugs and he tugs and he tugs and it's enough Technoblade has to stop awkwardly hovering his big hands around Dream's and instead grab onto them, halting the other’s out-of-nowhere violence. " Good ." Dream hisses, and it's venomous, it's almost- uncharacteristic. Techno pulls his eyebrows together and frowns. "You good? You had a little- panic attack there. And now you're attacking me! Scandalous."

Momentarily, Dream is taken aback by the piglin hybrid’s antics. Only momentarily, because as soon as he manages to wipe the way his expression cringes at his own actions off his face, he's back to pulling his hands out of Technoblade’s, taking one, two, three, too many steps towards the lava and almost falling backwards into it. He stumbles, and has to catch himself on the side of the wall. The lava is sizzling so closely behind him he's unsure if some of his hair, or his clothes might already be catching fire. He nudges just a little bit away from it, although he really wishes he could just let himself fall backwards.

He could, he reckons. No better time than now. No better time than when he's not alone with Sam and Quackity with the warden and sir with the violence and torture and-

His head spins. Technoblade says something again but hovers awkwardly out of his reach. Good. Good. This is better. That's how it's supposed to be. Transactional. As soon as they're out of here Technoblade will abandon him. That's how this was intended. He'll make himself heavy enough of a burden that even Techno will hesitate to dare put that strain on his back. That hesitation will be enough, he hopes. He is sure it will be enough. He closes his eyes, breathing. He should breathe, Technoblade is right. He opens his eyes again and his eyes search for Technoblade, who's looking at him with such a stupid expression of pity (and concern and worry and so many things Dream isn't sure he's identifying right and so many things that Dream hopes he is wrong about.).

Dream prays he is wrong about these things. Because God strike him down if he is right. God if he has to face that possibility.

He isn't sure how much time passes. He isn't sure how long they're just staring at each other.

"You better now?", Technoblade says after a long silence, attempting to approach him. Very slowly. As if he's afraid Dream might just stumble backwards into the lava if he startles him like a scared deer. Bitterly, Dream laughs. "Yeah", he catches himself, "Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. You have the strength of a toddler."

" WHAT??? " That gets to Dream’s head worse than Technoblade probably intends it to, when Dream stumbles over himself and almost catches fire on the lava. Techno snorts, lifting a hand to move it in a manner that's supposed to make him calm down but is only irritating him more. "You're- you're fucking insufferable, Technoblade ." Dream draws a breath through barely parted lips and for a moment he wants to cry.

The piglin sighs. "You know, I've been really patient, but you're making me curious. What happened? Since when are you so-- dead set on pushing everyone away? I mean, I heard Punz betrayed you, which must've sucked- but, Dream, I clearly don't mean you any ha-"

"Fuck off, Technoblade."

"Eh?"

"Fuck off." He reiterates, and he is so, so close to ending it all he needs to remind himself that part of the plan is that he stays alive. Part of the plan is that his heart keeps beating. Maybe he can respawn at least though. It's bitter. He threw himself in that lava a lot when there was nothing to do and the pain of burning alive was, funnily enough, the only thing keeping him sane. "We're not friends. We're not roomies. We're not- You weren't supposed to be here. You're so fucking- stupid- walking into that obvious trap."

Technoblade's vision swims, before it refocuses on Dream and he raises an eyebrow. "Dream- You do know I knew that, right?"

"Right. Right. And that's why you haven't gotten out. That's why you're still stuck here with me annoying me and trying to get under my skin all the goddamn time-"

"Well, I mean, some things went wrong. I'll be out here in no time, though."

(I, I, I, I, I)

I, I, I, I, I

It echoes in Dream’s head. He stares. " We ?" He whispers, it's hopeful, it's meek, and it's such a sudden change from the way he was just yelling.

"Uh, yeah. We. You're getting out of here, Dream."

They exchange looks. Stares. He's too busy reading every pore on Technoblade’s face to be distracted by the fact that he's doing the same to him. He stares at Technoblade’s pink eyes as if they have the answer to every question he's ever had. He hears his heart beat again and has such a visceral reaction to it; he bites down on his lip, balling his fists.

"I don't believe that. I don't trust you for a second."

The piglin hybrid sighs, toying with his coat to his braid, undoing it, since Dream messed it up anyways. "Right. I'm really beginning to believe that."

Dream thinks he hears sarcasm in that tone but he's not sure. He's not sure of any emotion he reads on Technoblade and it horrifies him. Quackity is so much easier to read: and Sam isn't too difficult to read too, he'd say. They're pretty similar, he'd concluded a while ago.

Quackity wears his heart on his sleeve. Observing him is like you're reading a picture book. Whereas with Technoblade he isn't quite sure he's got a heart in the first place. He isn't sure what he thinks of that conclusion. He isn't sure it's logical. Maybe it makes no sense to interpret it that way, he can't justify dehumanizing Technoblade to himself, but neither can he the way he got addicted to burning in the lava.

"What exactly am I supposed to do to make you-- ' trust ' me?" The Blade speaks up and Dream continues watching him for another roughly 20 seconds, not breaking eye contact. He's finally noticed that he's also eyeing him over and it makes something akin to horror crawl down his back. It settles on his spine and whispers to him. He can't make out exactly what it's saying but he knows it's gripping at the edges of his heart. It's digging its nails in and the only reason it's yet to bleed is that they are still in. Like a stab wound, it'll bleed so much more once removed. But it's bleeding either way.

Either way leads to death.

"Want me to prove I trust you? Do a little trust-fall?"

Dream’s face cringes at the way Technoblade snorts. "I- what - no way- I don't trust you and even if you trusted me, there's no way I can- catch you- in my current state."

"I'm going to be honest, Dream, I don't think you would've been very capable of it previously, either."

"You're----- You're really trying to make me hate you." Dream mumbles, kicking the floor, in a similar fashion as to he would before, and Technoblade takes it as a positive sign. He smiles fondly and it irritates Dream to no end.

The piglin hybrid shrugs. "Eh, sure. I'm not sure I can convince you otherwise, anyways."

Something stings but Dream can't identify it. Briefly, he wonders if the other feels something like that, too. Then he crosses that thought out, because he knows that the Blade doesn't own a heart that feels.

His brain rationalizes the dehumanization in a desperate attempt to drown his own feelings. It's not rational and he knows this, but he's horrified that if he looks at Technoblade like he's a person for too long he might forget the plan.

He wants to choke himself out for going down this path alone. But it's the only way to keep them safe. (dehumanizing Technoblade isn't keeping him safe. it's the very thing that's ended him up in this position. the very reason he can't just sit in his cabin and rest. The very reason he's right here and associated with Dream is because they're the same, the same, the same .)

Dream can't read Technoblade. But maybe he just doesn't want to. Maybe the other is written in a foreign language that Dream couldn't possibly have knowledge of in his young and naive years.

The admin sighs tiredly.

"You can't. I don't trust you and it's not like you truly trust me either." Dream huffs a laugh. "You trust me to keep you alive. For my own gain." He gestures at the lava, then at Technoblade. "Since I'm not going anywhere without you. But maybe you will just leave without me."

Techno frowns. Even to Dream it's obvious this conversation is getting tiring. Maybe he's beginning to regret getting under his skin, maybe he's regretting constantly running his mouth, maybe he's considering just going to sleep for the rest of his stay here. Dream doesn't know because maybe after all this time, he's finally forgotten how to read. He isn't even sure he can read himself anymore.

"I mean, yeah, maybe I will. You're not really making it enticing to take you along." Techno exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I'd say you should know I wouldn't actually do any of that, but maybe I misread you."

None of that sounds like anything Technoblade would say. Good, Dream thinks, he's listening. He's not completely dense. He's not completely naive. Of course, the plan is still for the other to take him along. "W-well, you've got a favor to pay back. Technoblade pays back favors."

"Uh-huh."

"And that's all this is."

"Right."

Dream can't decode the bitter way Techno nods. He doesn't understand the way his throat slowly closes up and he feels like he's choking. He concludes it's been plugged by his heart again and he hates the very way the Blade puts even his organs in a disarray. It's irregular. Makes no sense.

"R-right." He repeats Technoblade’s word, glancing away.

"Hey, you let me see your face."

"No I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't fucking allow you to." Dream crosses his arms, frowns. Techno shrugs, looking at Dream again. The other doesn't look away. "Yeah, but you're still letting me look."

It's not fair. It's not. It's not fair. He can't even rebuke that one. He's tired.

"You've got a lot of freckles." Techno muses, with such a stupid, stupid fond smile. (this isn't part of the plan. Isn't part of the plan.) "Your cheeks are- fuzzy." He snorts and Dream wants to deck him in the face. ( shut up. Shut up. Shut up .) "And your eyes rat you out."

Don't get him involved. Don't get him involved. Stick to the plan. Don't do that to him. Stick to the plan.

It's not worth it. If he changes the plan now- he can't. The plan has to be the way it is. Punz is bad enough. This is bad enough. Dream suddenly feels so powerless that it's crushing.

"And what stupid things do you think they're saying?"

"I don't know." Techno shrugs now, taking a step towards Dream. Cautiously, as if he fears he might startle him and send him into the lava. "Maybe they're desperate." He guesses, stops just out of Dream’s reach. Dream bites his lip bloody.

"Yeah. Desperate to get you to shut up. Get things under control and get us out of here." He grumbles, fists balling. (for a moment, he imagines himself reaching his hand into the lava, cupping it, and then throwing it at Technoblade. He wonders if his hand would last enough for that, or if the lava would burn through quicker. He wonders if that could kill him.)

He wonders how much of it would hit Techno, or if he'd dodge. If he'd call him insane, or if he'd be worried. If he'd be worried for his own safety, or Dream's, or both.

"I'm at it! I'm at it. Someone's really impatient." Techno lifts his hands defensively. "You're the one who designed this thing so- inescapable." Dream licks the blood off his lips, tail flicking behind him. "It'd kind of defeat the purpose if it wasn't."

The piglin hybrid only nods. Dream only returns a nod. They're silent, observing each other as if they are reading a book.

Dream decides he needs to rip his pages out of Techno’s book. He takes a deep breath, looks directly at the other’s face.

"Come over here." He croaks out, embarrassed, clears his throat after. "Come here." He repeats, clearer now.

For a moment, Dream hoped he'd see hesitation in Technos gaze. He sees something, Techno does need a second to listen, but he doesn't see hesitation. He doesn't know what he's seeing. (Worry? Care? Concern?) Concern, for his own or Dream’s or both of their safety.

Technoblade listens and everything in Dream’s body was hoping he wouldn't. He'd hoped he wouldn't. But now he's standing in front of him, left of him lava bubbles. It's hot and unbearable to him, but Dream knows it's like second nature to the piglin hybrid.

"Do you trust me?" Dream asks, it's flat. The croak in his voice disappeared, it's just cold now. He can't read the expression on Technoblade’s face. He doesn't like the way he frowns. He doesn't like the way he has to break his neck to look him in the face when they are so close together.

"What's this?"

"No, shut up, answer the question." Dream shakes his head when Techno tries to gain knowledge on his intent. That won't work. That won't work. He made a plan and he's sticking by it.

Techno sighs. Rolls his shoulders. Then nods. Smiles. "Yeah, well, I do."

(I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do. It repeats in Dream’s ears until it turns to venom until it takes over every part of his brain until he can't hear anything else until it tastes bitter and bile and he wishes he could throw up.)

Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no. Everything in Dream hoped he'd say no.

He doesn't breathe for a good minute. Then he holds out his hand. His hand, small, burned, injured. There's little cuts and scars everywhere. He still has all of his fingers, but he is afraid he won't soon enough. "Okay. If you take my hand and close your eyes, do you trust me to not hurt you?" He continues, and his heart deflates when Technoblade listens. He hoped he wouldn't.

He hoped he'd make a snarky comment and refuse. But he doesn't even give him a snarky comment. The piglin hybrid's hand almost completely engulfs his own and Dream feels so small and helpless and weak, all of a sudden. It's like Technoblade is unknowingly pulling the carpet out from under his feet. It's like the obsidian beneath him disappeared. (The hand-holding is weirdly comforting and suddenly Dream wants to abandon everything he thought of, everything he planned. if he could just fall forward and-)

He grips Technoblade’s hand. Harsh. He's not sure where he draws the strength from, considering he hasn't even eaten one potato today. And he isn't even sure he ate one yesterday. He squeezes it, and for a moment, it may come across comforting, or comfortable, or-

Then he violently tugs on the other’s hand. Then he draws both of them towards the lava. Then, suddenly, both of their hands are touching lava. (Dream's barely is. Technoblade’s hand engulfs his almost completely, but he's probably more fire resistant than he is. He braces himself, grits his teeth, burn, burn, burn, burn, everything in himself is screaming to take it all back, to reverse time, to-)

"Let this be a lesson not to, in the future."

#ask #sixteenth-day-event #crivals #rivalsduo #cdnb #cdreamnoblade #dreamnoblade #cdream #ctechno

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skibasyndrome · 6 months

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I'm completely obsessed with and emo over the way Wilhelm carries himself now that he knows Simon loves him, too.

(just a sidenote, but the duality of love and devotion towards Simon on one side and revolt and confident deviance towards everyone watching him, including us on the other.... these frames make me unwell...)

Like, that's absolutely the stance and face (and smile) of someone who's done with putting his own and his boyfriend's (!!!) needs behind those of the people who never cared about what he actually wanted.

Knowing him and Simon are on the same page now, finally, really is all he needs to face off against the consequences of living authentically and openly. He knows that together, they'll be fine.

I'd like to think his resistance is starting here already, facing off Jan-Olof with this stare and not pulling away as fast as Simon - who after all just offered to be Wilhelm's secret - is.

It's so beautiful to see how much this has done for him in the S3 snippet. I feel like it's the first time he's moving like he's not a stranger on his own home anymore, like he's now commanding the place, like he's finally calling the shots. Sure, there are and there will be adversities (“I just wish it wasn't because of this”), but Wilhelm won't let them get in the way of him and Simon loving and supporting each other.

“They won't start without us” He knows it's true and really isn't giving a fuck anymore who might get mad at them, he knows that they won't be able to play this down, make him deny everything again, they can't take back his confession in front of every single phone in all of Hillerska, and he won't let them try to, either. He's ready to fight, that revolution they started back in season 1 is now really picking up, and they're in it together.

And god, it looks like it's healing him so much, he's so confident now, Simon by his side really gave him the strength he needed.

Like, the journey from the way he's desperately holding on to him at the confession, seemingly drinking it all in, those words he probably hasn't even dared dreaming of hearing from Simon and do taken aback by his emotions to the way he exudes confidence, strength, and conviction even in the face of adversity... the development is so beautiful.

The combination of love and confidence is one hell of a drug, and Wilhelm gets both from and through Simon... I'm convinced they are going to be one hell of a power couple this next season.

#if this isn't very original I'm sorry; just had to let my feelings go somewhere <3333 #young royals #wilmon #young royals analysis #??? a bit bold to call it that but I think it's the closest?#simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #oh boy all this talk of resistance and revolt is really getting to me #as a Camus girlie I actually probably need to write something about this at some point... I love Wilhelm facing the absurdity of his condit #his love for Simon being... “sa chose” yadayada... I'm here for it #I'd say il faut immaginer Wilhelm hereux but no need; in fact we KNOW he's happy #yr s3 spoilers #my yr thoughts

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boba-beom · 1 year

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✦ ⁺ ⨯ . ⁺ americano | K.TH

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff! | oneshot

warning(s): lowercase intended, mentions of uni stress, soft tsundere tyun agenda 🤭, light banter, reader almost accepts that feelings might be one-sided, reader still tries to shoot their shot, mentions of food and drinks ofc, they fell first but he fell harder type of trope hehe, lmk if I’ve missed anything, not proofread

summary: you tell taehyun you want to go out for a walk at night, and he comes over so you won’t have to walk alone

wc: 1.1k

a/n: happy 21st birthday to my favourite nyang nyang <3 here’s some light tsundere content for our beloved kang taehyun! i also tried writing a little different to how i usually do, feedback would be amazing, thank you <3

-> also got the inspo from this clip :>

the past few weeks have been so stressful with second semester up and running. you know that you always have taehyun to talk to when you were struggling, but you've been messaging him and calling him more frequently these days. this time around, you weren't too sure if you wanted to call him again just for the same reason as before. perhaps it's also you trying to avoid him in the slightest ever since you realised your growing crush on him.

sometimes you wonder why he hangs around with you in general. you can't help but wonder, there must be someone really attractive in any of his classes and it's possible someone likes him too. who wouldn't? he's intelligent, witty, extremely handsome and confident.

what you were unaware about was that taehyun would drop anything — that isn't too important — for you. those times you didn't expect him to reply or pick up the phone, he did not hesitate to help you out with uni work — as long as it means he gets to see you.

sometimes you felt like wanting to go for walks when it's late at night. just the thought of walking around the quiet neighbourhood when everyone is done for the day appealed to you. even the silence on the road, no cars in your neighbourhood are out past 10pm and just the soft rustle of the trees lightly swaying from the wind. that was enough for you to destress.

you sigh, accepting the fact that you'll have to talk to him about this irrational decision of yours whether you wanted to or not. he was always the right, and only person to talk about these things anyway.

sorry it's late tyun

i'm struggling with uni work and i want to take a break, but i want to go for a walk. just letting you know

while awaiting his reply, you swing your satin varsity jacket over your shoulders, stretching your arms through and zipping it up. you pick up a navy blue cap that taehyun left the last time he came over to study with you. his scent all over it, and you had hoped to feel a little safer wearing it on your solo walk.

your phone chimes with the screen glowing, tyun ♡ labelled as the sender and his message read out:

yn, stay there.

i'm coming with you on your walk

i'm almost there

taehyun couldn't help but think the worst if you were to go out by yourself, even if you thought it was okay to do so. he cared about you more than he liked to admit but he's been really good at hiding it from you. maybe a little too good.

however, though he hasn't said it yet, his actions says it all. he thought you would catch on at some point and confront him about it, but he's still testing out the waters. he has an inkling that you have a liking for him, but he doesn't know when he started to realise it. as of recent, he's noticed the little things you do and say, resulting to the tips of his ears burning up. the pink of his ears blends in with his hair, which he was always grateful for because that's one thing he wouldn't be able to hide otherwise.

you hear a knock on your front door and you already know that it's taehyun. he has a specific pattern when he knocks and only you know. it was like a routine, really. from the amount of times you've met up at your student-shared house, it doesn't seem too different compared to the previous times.

your eyes are met with his, just as surprised as each other. his figure was standing on the door step, him wearing a very similar varsity jacket to yours and two americanos in his hand. the sight was almost endearing and you tried your best to stifle your laughter once your eyes met.

"i really appreciate you coming with me tyun," you stand aside to let him walk in, closing the door after him. "you know you didn't have to." but you were beyond ecstatic he did.

to him though, it was a statement that taehyun didn't like hearing from time to time. it's almost as if you were rejecting his efforts and he certainly takes that to heart, you just can't see that through his stoic expressions.

"well, it was a little silly of you to think you can just walk out at night, yn. do you know how dark it is outside?" it was almost as if you were about to receive a lecture from him about safety and the dangers of walking around — in a small neighbourhood, that is.

"aw, you care about me." you say half-heartedly, bumping your shoulder with his, not knowing if it was still worth trying to shoot your shot with him, but would it really hurt to try again?

his expression changes with the littlest movement of his brows raising. not answering your statement, he passes you one of the drinks in his hand.

"i picked this up on my way here. this doesn't mean i like you though." you receive the drink from him, fingers caress against each other lightly and you look up to him, giving him a small smile while you tilt your head to the side a little.

you melted his heart right there and then. he said his last statement with no meaning whatsoever, he just doesn't want you know how much he likes you.

to you, receiving that from taehyun was very him. and you accepted to take that as a positive sign. that perhaps your feelings weren't one sided after all. your mind was slowly adding all these small pieces together one by one and you decided to keep it lowkey for now. you accepted that you will know when he wants to say it explicitly.

"but it's late tyun, americano at night?" one brow raises, confused by the choice of the caffeinated drink.

"yeah because after this walk, i'm going to help you do a little more work. knowing you, you weren't concentrating again, huh?" he takes a sip from his drink after the rhetorical question.

"okay, let's go then? the sooner we go for our walk the sooner we can get back and make a start." you chirp, mirroring his actions before placing it down and linking your arm with his, pulling him up as you walk towards the front door.

he would be lying if he thought that wasn't the cutest thing you've said and done. you knew exactly what to say to have his heart melting in his chest, but with no major reaction he huffs a little laugh under his breath.

"you can keep the cap too. it's cold lately, you don't want to get sick." he pats your head, securing the accessory on your head just before you lock up the door and walk around side by side.

taglist: @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @dainsleif-when-playable @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @potaeto-writes-on-wp @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @onlyforgaeul (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or fill in this form)

can't find the tags: @TXT @itmehc @AshxxKook

#hybenet #kflixnet #taehyun x gn reader #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #taehyun fics #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #tsundere taehyun #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt fics #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt oneshot

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forthevillains · 2 months

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I wish I was your girl [pt.1]

Albert Wesker X fem! Reader

[this felt long enough already so I’ve decided to make two parts instead of just one - second will be nsfw ;)]

You were always looking at him, sneakily that is at first, but that didn't last long. You were doomed, completely lost in what you desired, so caught up in your own emotions you could barely think straight. Watching that man felt like it was gonna be the death of you, as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt while you stood in the doorway, envelopes in hands, your grip on them tightening just from the sight of his muscular forearms. Each revealed part of his body felt tempting and your throat suddenly felt dry, so dry, you had to force yourself to gulp to make sure you're physically still there.

"You can leave those on my desk," he said and gazed at you, the shades he wore pissed you off as they blocked your way to look straight in his eyes. His voice however got you out of your own thoughts and your eyes shot up to meet his hidden ones.

"I-Of course, captain Wesker," you muttered and stepped closer, putting the envelopes down, leaving the only thing you could hold onto to suppress your nervousness.

It would be such a shame if Albert Wesker, your captain ever got to know about your feelings for him. It'd be such a shame if only he'd feel the same way... He watched you carefully, aware of how flustered his presence made you feel, not just now, but every single time. Your reactions were hard to ignore, really, especially for someone as observant as he is.

Wesker caught up with your intentions a while ago, though he would never go as far as to bring it up. No instead he'd use it to his advantage, teasing you, making you so nervous you could barely do the simple tasks he'd ask from you.

"You can leave now, unless you've got something to tell me." The man smirks as he leans against the desk, gripping the edge to keep himself steady.

Your knees got weaker at that very moment and you just shook your head. "Oh no, no, I'll just... keep going," you replied quickly and managed an awkward smile before you forced yourself to get out of there. You couldn't do anything stupid. You kept telling yourself that, over and over. He's too old for you, he's your boss on top of that, you're nothing more than a secretary... You shouldn't even do as much as you do for him, it must look as if you're his assistant instead to everyone else.

The dangerous game has begun though, the moment you started giving him looks, bringing him coffee even though he hasn't asked for it, desperately trying to spend more time with him. You wanted him too badly to comprehend, it was making you go crazy while it all was only to Wesker's amusement.

He liked to see you try, he liked to tease you about the littlest of things, even giving you compliments sometimes, only to see the blood rush to your cheeks and hear you stuttering over your own words. That only happened in private though, he made sure to keep everything a secret from everyone else.

You'd often think of him, even in your own apartment, you'd always think of how it would be if you were his girl, if only he'd love you the same way you loved him. How it would feel to wake up next to him every morning, to care for him, to have him care for you. How good it'd feel if he wrapped those strong arms around your tiny body. Oh to be held by him, you'd often thought.

However one night, one specific night... Everything was about to change for you, whether to better or worse, that's the question.

You've been in the office till the night, you were working overtime as you often did after all, you wanted to get done with as much work as you could. Though you also liked to spend time at the station, when it was all peaceful, not a single foot threatening to step in and bother you. It was your alone time, in most cases that is at least. Only one who also stayed after shift was captain Wesker, who's proven to be the definition of workaholic as he barely stepped foot out of the office. You've never seen him come in and barely twice have you seen him leave. He always worked, from early morning to late night and it made you wonder if that man got any sleep at all. How did he even function with as much lack of sleep?

It was getting too late, even for you. So you've decided to carry reports the officers left you to deliver to Wesker. Whether they were afraid or just lazy, you cared not. You'd never turn down on such an opportunity.

Walking through the station, in pure darkness, you made your way towards captain's office. It was the only source of light for you so it was easy to tell he hasn't left yet. Holding the papers to your chest as you got closer, your heartbeat quickening at the thought of talking to him yet again.

You didn't expect what you'd hear in the slightest. As you were ready to knock on the half opened door, you stopped in your own tracks as you recognized his voice. He was speaking to someone, probably through the phone. You were ready to interrupt, but then you've heard him mention Umbrella and you froze in place. At first you'd think he was speaking to someone close, maybe even a wife, but as you listened more closely, you couldn't believe your own ears.

He must've been thinking he's alone in there, what fool would be in there so late, right? Another word you've caught on made your eyes widen - a virus. It wasn't your job at all, but considering how friendly everyone was with you, you've been able to get to know of almost everything going on around here. Even the weirdest of cases...

Your blood ran cold, the realization hitting you as hard as a truck. Your hands were shaky, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Could he really do such a thing? To all of you... To the people who were his employees, even more than that, his friends...

The papers disappeared from your hands quickly, you dropped them. A gasp escaped you soon after and you slapped a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes in frustration, hoping that the captain didn't hear. But he did.

Wesker was quick to end the call and get up from his chair. He had no idea someone was there with him, he was cursing himself in his head. How stupid it was to do that there... How stupid it was to think that you'd leave sooner...

You didn't have many options, you were panicking.

What would he do to you now that you got to know such a thing?

You decided to do the only thing that came to your mind - run. Bad choice. That act alone sold you completely. Wesker was after you in no time, he was much faster than you, especially when you were wearing an uncomfortable skirt while he was still in his uniform.

He caught up quickly, pinning you to the nearest wall, which made you let out a gasp and attempt to push him away, to no avail.

"I didn't - I didn't hear anything!" You shrieked, almost hysterically. You were panicking, wanting to slap yourself for giving yourself out like that. You should've acted confused instead, but now you've just admitted to hearing him.

"Why were you running then?" The captain asked, catching your wrists with just one of his hands and holding them behind your back to make you stop fighting. You were too shameless punching him in the chest, desperate for freedom. He found it amusing, though it was better to hold you in place, reminding you how small you are compared to him. Small and weak.

You went quiet and only looked away, awaiting his next actions, your body trembling. You were scared of him, as he towered over you with those shades on as usual, hiding all the emotions that could at least give a hint of what was about to come. His expression was unreadable. He may be mad, he may be disappointed, even scared and you'd never know.

"That's what I thought," he breathed out, the tight grip on your wrists suddenly loosening, you almost expected him to pull away, but instead he leaned closer to you, his face so close you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. "Though I feel like there's a way both of us could come to an agreement, hm?"

continue to part 2

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #oneshot #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #fanfic

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 6 months

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I just saw the art you reblogged and it got me thinking. What do you think of yandere Dick Grayson? For some reason I see him more of a lucid type, while also being really protective, since he lost so much already. His ass is nice too

He ain't the most sexualized DC man for nothing, babe

But yeah I prefer him as a lucid yandere that tends to put on a front sometimes. That prettyboy reputation he has isn't really that accurate, but he can use that and his charm as a smokescreen to hide just how protective he is of Darling. He's kind of like Hawks from BNHA in that respect, and like Hawks once Darling discovers/confronts him about it, he drops it and is blunt as fuck about everything he's done.

Like "...Yeah, I did put a tracker on you. And that camera you found is mine too. But you know how many dangerous people are in Bludhaven and Gotham, and if any of them realized how important you are to me, they'd take you in a heartbeat. Barbara was shot and paralyzed by Joker because he knew she was close to Batman. He tortured and killed (maybe Arkham Knight hasn't happened yet) Jason. I'm not going to let that happen to you, to us. So if that means invading your privacy here and there, I'm sorry but that's what I'm going to do."

In that respect he's a pretty chill yandere. He's more inclined to stalk you and would only prevent you from going out of your own free will if there was an incident where you got put in danger. Like if someone tried to mug you or a villain tried going after you, then you're going to his safehouse until he deals with it. He won't kill, but he'll get pretty fucking close; a slashed Achilles tendon and two broken arms isn't fatal, but it does prevent a guy from hurting you.

He's so lucid that he knows this is going too far and that this isn't what Bruce trained him to do to protect his loved ones. But...well, look at what Bruce's methods have produced: Barbara was paralyzed because of him, Jason got tortured and brainwashed, Talia was killed. Maybe harsher methods are a better way to stop your loved ones from getting hurt.

#.dc #.arkhamverse #.nightwing #.dick grayson #yandere dc #yandere arkhamverse #yandere nightwing #yandere dick grayson #thots

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ifishouldvanish · 3 months

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Some Mizrak / Mizrox Analysis and Headcanons

I know, I know, I'm That Alurox Blog™, but I'm just gonna take off the rarepair goggles for a bit to take a closer look at Mizrak and his relationship with Olrox as it's presented in canon. I feel like there's a tendency for his character to be reduced to just the 'repressed gay monk' archetype and it does him a disservice because he's way more interesting than that!!!

Anyway probably not as cohesive as my Olrox analysis because I don't really have specific headcanons with regard to his backstory yet but here goes:

1. Mizrak FUCKS!!1!

All the "haha the Catholic monk folded and had gay sex with a hot vampire in .2 seconds" jokes aside... I think Mizrak really does fuck. Like I'm not convinced at all that he is some repressed virgin who just got his world rocked for the first time.

First of all, he takes like, zero convincing to jump in bed with someone who has just established themselves as an enemy. We get the little fight in the courtyard, Olrox saying, "let's do this somewhere more comfortable" and next we see them they're already post-coitus. Furthermore, Mizrak is like... pretty fucking casual about it? Like, he's the one brushing a clingy Olrox off in the morning. I'm sorry but I don't see any evidence in that scene that suggests he hasn't done this sort of thing before. This man has had casual sex before, presumably with other men.

Sure, we get a few shots of him being mopey and conflicted in the morning after scene, but these are brought on by Olrox watering the seeds of doubt he already has about the whole working with Erzsebet thing; not Catholic Guilt over knocking boots with a vampire.

Also just... from a writer's perspective, if you have some repressed monk character and he's gonna get carnal with a vampire, you are MILKING that shit for all it's worth. You're gonna lay on the angst, the temptation, the moral quandary of giving into the sins of the flesh. But all of that is markedly absent in these scenes. We just see two grown men who think each other are hot and decided to have sex about it.

2. A Foundation of Mistrust

The first thing either of these men learn about each other is that they are on opposite sides of the same conflict (and it don't stop them from fuckin' 😌)

Olrox's mistrust is born out of his experiences with colonization by the Spanish, and an understanding that imperialism is the ultimate goal of Erzsebet's mission. Mizrak's distrust is born out of Olrox being a vampire, and the antagonistic nature of their first meeting.

But there's still a draw, of course. Despite going along with the abbot's plans, Mizrak expresses some misgivings about the whole thing. He doesn't want to work with Erzsebet—they just have no other choice. This is probably a position that Olrox knows all too well: just as native Americans were divided on whether or not to help the American colonists, just as some states in mesoamerica decided working with the Spanish was a good opportunity to strike blows to the increasingly powerful Mexica Alliance.

A telling thing Mizrak says to Olrox is, "There's evil everywhere we look, so we use our heads." In the context of their conversation, he's referring to the arrangement with Erzsebet—but I think it's also his general attitude toward Olrox as well. He's willing to get close to him, but he's going to keep his wits about him and not lower his guard.

They don't trust each other, but they do begin to understand each other. For what it's worth, I do think Olrox grows to trust Mizrak by the end of the season (otherwise he wouldn't have put his cards on the table to protect him during the battle), but it's clear from Mizrak's reaction that he has not grown to return that trust yet.

Which isn't to say that Mizrak is being unfair here. As far as he's aware, Olrox really hasn't done anything to earn his trust yet. Pulling him out of battle was supposed to be Olrox's gesture of "see? I'm sticking my neck out for you!" but to Mizrak it's just cowardice. Which... I'll touch on later.

3. "Is that what you have planned for me?" / "Of course not, I'm not in love with you."

Again, jokes about Mizrak having the absolute balls to be like "oh so ur in love with me?" after like, two nights aside... This is a really interesting exchange they have here??

For me, Mizrak's line here is just an expression of his distrust. Olrox has just told him about the only man he's ever loved, and this??? THIS is his response???

Hoo boy. This isn't "well, we are having sex and hanging out so obviously you're falling in love with me 😌". This is "I think you're just trying to manipulate me into believing you actually have a conscience/are capable of compassion, and I'm not falling for it." Mizrak thinks he has Olrox all figured out. Thinks he's calling a bluff.

And so with that framing?? Olrox's response, "Of course not, Mizrak. I'm not in love with you," is a FANTASTIC rebuttal. This isn't "oops, you caught me slipping and catching feelings, time to deny, deny, deny!!!" This is, "Of course you can trust me. I'm not trying to lure you in with romance or manipulate you into temptation—we both know I didn't have to do any of that to get here. I'm just here to tell you like it is, and you know in your heart that I haven't told you a lie yet."

Mizrak is accusing Olrox of trying to manipulate him into developing feelings for him, and Olrox is saying, "Gods no, I know you're smarter than that."

Which... is SO delicious in that I'm sure this is the line that will prove to be a lie. It's just not one yet. Ooh the foreshadowing and dramatic irony of it all gives me goosebumps!!! (Have I mentioned that I love Olrox and everything about the way his lines are written??? 🫠🫠 THE character of all time I love him sm)

4. Mizrak Has Nothing to Lose (History of the Knights of Malta Speedrun)

We know that Mizrak and the abbot came from Malta, and the 8-pointed cross they bear identifies them as part of the Order of St John. The history of the Order and of Malta is basically a centuries-long back and forth between the Ottoman, Holy Roman, and Byzantine empires. The Order is founded in Jerusalem 1023 with the mission of preserving the faith, aiding the poor, and providing care to people making pilgrimages to the Holy Land, regardless of faith. But they turn into this sort of paramilitary outfit during the crusades—granted authority by the pope to sort of act on its own without any real checks and balances. In short, they are tasked with defending the Catholic church independently of any conflicts between individual European/Christian nations, and European powers grant them land and financial support so they can carry out their mission.

Eventually the Ottomans expel them from Jerusalem (and a few other places), and the Order makes its new home on Malta, where they are tolerated by the locals in exchange for establishing some infrastructure (hospitals, schools, etc) and boosting the economy. The Order famously defends Malta from another Ottoman attack in 1565 and they're heralded as heroes of the church (but let's stick a pin in that for now)

As the centuries go by and the conflict between the Muslim world and Christian world kinda fizzles out, the Order becomes an outdated relic of a bygone era. The Catholic church lost some traction in the protestant reformation, and a more complex political landscape has the knights taking arms against other catholic entities (particularly the Franco-Spanish war). In fact, by the time Nocturne is set, the Order had already established a protestant division because they just REALLY didn't want to lose the support of Germany and England. France, who had been one of the Order's strongest supporters, forms an alliance with the Ottomans, and they just kinda have to look the other way.

As a sovereign entity that's no longer needed or even really wanted by mainland Europe, the Order decides to use its advantageous location to take on the responsibility of intercepting Ottoman ships—confiscating goods and taking slaves, to the extent that Malta becomes something of a major slave trade hub in the Mediterranean. The age of piracy is in full swing, and the Order earns itself a not so great reputation of effectively being pirates themselves, as even Christian ships start complaining that they're getting raided by the Knights. This campaign was called the 'Corso', and despite the Order's vows of poverty, it entitled them to a portion of any spoils they confiscated during a time when the Maltese economy was doing poorly.

Their souring reputation creates a cyclical effect where more and more countries drop their financial support for the Order, and the Knights have to lean further into the piracy and slave trade stuff to support Malta's economy. Not only is Catholicism losing ground, but the Order's mission: preserving the faith and aiding the poor, has become more of a loosely interpreted suggestion. The meaning of the 8-pointed cross gets diluted, as non-members of the Order are able to fly the flag—for a fee.

So imagine you are Mizrak, and you're a devoted Catholic who's committed himself to the Mission™ only to find... It's pretty much bullshit. No one cares, least of all the Knights of Malta who are more interested in engaging in legalized piracy and slave trade than God. You've lost all sense of purpose. But then... Some abbot named Emmanuel comes along and HE is legit. HE believes in the power of God and Faith and the Church. HE sees the way the world has turned its back on God and HE has a plan to fix it.

Sure, it involves allying with a vampire and creating a demon army for her, but that's hardly any different from anything else the Order's been up to for the past two centuries or so. At least this time it's For The Cause. You have to believe Emmanuel is doing the right thing, that he's in this for the right reasons—because if you can't have faith in that, then what else is there? The world has already abandoned you.

(The history of Malta and the Order is pretty wild honestly. Here are some sources to check out:)

History | The Knights of Malta

r/AskHistorians - What Were the Knights really like?

The Decline of The Order (PDF)

Noble Slavers: The Knights of Malta and Slavery in the 16/17th Century

Tragic Tales of Slaves in Malta

5. Courage as a Virtue and Redemption

So back to courage, and back to that pin from the Order's history.

The Ottoman Empire was massive, and during the Great Siege of Malta in 1565, they vastly outnumbered the Knights. Ottoman forces had about 30-40 thousand soldiers while the Knights had six thousand—half of which were Maltese civilians who were called upon for service. The siege lasted four months, and ended in a decisive victory for Malta.

This was an epic underdog story that turned the tides of the conflict and revitalized Christian morale across Europe. And I think this story is what drives Mizrak. This is why he became a Knight in the first place. What he believes the Order is capable of, what he believes Emmanuel is fighting for.

To be clear, I think Mizrak is disheartened by what the Order and church has become by the 18th century. So Emmanuel's plan, as sketchy as it is, is an opportunity to restore it to its former glory and rally people around the church again. To return the sort of disgraced Order to its original mission: preserving the faith and protecting the vulnerable.

This is his Moment to serve his God in the fullest extent of the word, to take a stand for what he believes in. Anything short of that is cowardice. And that's why he's so offended that Olrox would pull him out of that fight.

And if we take all this context from the previous points here and we circle back to his and Olrox's first meeting, it adds a new layer of meaning to, "It doesn't sit well with your faith" and Mizrak's defensive, "What would you know about faith?" — Mizrak has likely already had to compromise his morals on more than one occasion, with his faith being the one thing he still has to hold onto to justify it.

6. So What Is His Deal?

Honestly, I really don't know. The history of Malta and the Knights is so long and winding, the show could do just about anything with his backstory and I'd be like, "yeah, that checks out."

What I do think we can take away from canon is:

He's a True Believer and defender of the Catholic faith. One of his first lines to Olrox is his "faith is a foundation" speech where he quotes Isaiah 43:2. In the finale, we got his call to the other Knights to put down their swords and pray with him for forgiveness to stop the madness. When Olrox presses him about why he's forging night creatures, he explains that Catholics are being executed.

He's a pragmatist. Despite his devotion to the church, he demonstrates some moral flexibility so to speak. There's the "use our heads" line, of course. But there's also this line during the meeting with Drolta: "We don't have to pretend to like each other. This is an arrangement convenient to us both because we share a common enemy." Devoted as he is, this man is not a purist.

... But he still has lines he will not cross. Earlier in the season, we see the abbot express discomfort about Drolta attacking Maria, about harming children. But by the end of the season, he's justifying sacrificing her to Erzsebet. Mizrak however, remains steadfast in the "killing children is wrong, even if they are part of the 'godless mob'" position. Holding this line is what pushes him to deflect from Emmanuel and Erzsebet.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #mizrak #Olrox #mizrox

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 2 months

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The Bad Batch: What's left from the trailer?

I wondered this earlier and then fell into a haze of going frame by frame through the trailer and screenshotting what I think hasn't appeared in season 3 of The Bad Batch so far, as of episode 6 and 7.

All of the shots to do with this scene of Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair escaping in the big truck thing (juggernaut?) and Phee flying in to save them.

Coruscant! Whose ship is that?

The Empire and the mystery clone assassin invading Pabu, which @gamelpar pointed out in this post.

Someone's hand pushing a handle forwards. Whose gauntlet is this?

More of the Empire and the mystery clone assassin on Pabu. Is this Tech. Or Cody? Either way, more pain 😭

Hunter pushing a handle down.

More of Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair escaping from the same scene at the start of the trailer.

There's a number of shots that I'm pretty sure we've seen, like this one. I think this was in episode one?

A very fast and blurry shot of what looks like a LAAT/i flying down in a tight spiral over a large body of water.

Fennec looking all badass in a bar somewhere.

Cad Bane and his hat.

This shot where Wrecker says the line "Give us a real challenge." The bridge structure in the holo in the bottom left looks similar to the bridge Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair drive over in the big truck thing when they're escaping in the shots from the start of the trailer. My guess is that this is a briefing about that mission.

Hunter being eaten by a space crocodile and Wrecker jumping in after him. What's interesting about this is that Fennec is there. She's on the boat in the bottom left of the second frame. That's a very distinctive helmet and coat.

That's the clone assassin's ship. I think we just saw this during episode 6?

Hunter squaring up to fight someone.

Wrecker also squaring up to fight someone.

This shot of Crosshair (or at least his Firepuncher), Hunter and Wrecker where Hunter says the line "We're not big on following orders."

Hunter leaping onto a LAAT/i and yeeting a stormtrooper out by his ankle.

Ventress! She's being shot at by blue blaster bolts here. Who's shooting those?

This shot that pans across Hunter and Wrecker aiming at someone, though they both lower their blasters slightly.

I find all this stuff rather interesting because there's so much going on in trailers and there are so many decisions being made. Disney has a habit of mainly including footage from the first half of a series in their trailers, which makes me wonder how soon we're going to see all of these shots.

It's also a good idea to take trailers with a large grain of salt as they're often full of misdirects and footage or audio that doesn't even appear in the show. This was really obvious in the Rogue One trailers but TBB trailer has done it already as well. @icantlivewithoutdreaming correctly pointed out in this post that Rex says "not with the Empire imprisoning the kid" at 0:35 in the trailer but the line he actually says in episode 7 is "Not with the Empire being after the kid." There's also shots that are flipped, like the one of Hunter and Wrecker at 0:52 where Hunter's tattoo is on the wrong side of his face, and the hero shot of Rex at 1:22, which was at the end of episode 7 when he's staring down Wolffe.

I've hit the max number of images in a post so I'll put a link my post about the short trailer/TV spot here when it's done. Edit: Here's the link to my post on the shots from the short trailer/TV spot that haven't appeared in TBB yet.

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lydiablackblade · 8 months

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Lately I came across some comments here and there more or less saying David is now old and was kinda disgusting and basically not a good Crowley anymore.

First. Bitch please... Really. Are you insane? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Second. During the first watch of season 2 I found myself wondering "When tf did David get age like that?" But then I went through his recent videos and I figured, well, he didn't. Obviously he's not 30 anymore but as good-looking as ever.

But you have to admit there's something with him in this season. And I think this is intentional and especially noticeable in the last two episodes. DavidCrowley looks tired. Like... all the time. Worn-out. Worried.

He said they craved themselves a peaceful, fragile existence. I guess the emphasis is on fragile. He never knows when will it fall into pieces. He is always looking back over his shoulder, prepare for the worst, to protect his angel. I think he hasn't have a good sleep since the Armagedon't, so basically for years, not just because he's living in his car, but because he's is sleeping one eye open. And he couldn't let himself the luxury to tell this to Aziraphale, who's seemingly living the best time of his life (he's not). Crowley drinks six espresso in a shot, for someone's sake. And that was even before he came to know about Jim. He cannot let himself to calm down or be off-guard, because Hell is, well, just around the corner (kind of pun intended). They are traitors and forgiveness is only Aziraphale's favourite thing, not the Head Offices'. Shax pops up unexpectedly anytime. I think there were even other hellish ambassadors before her, she seems to be so new on Earth, cannot imagine she's been doing it for years now. Heaven is still, but we all know they are for a long game.

And he is exhausted, even I say haunted by the liftetime of terror he experienced both in Heaven and Hell. He was tortured. Punished. Not only once. He cannot forget that not only his existence is endangered but also his angel's. When he said to Jim he remember so very well when Gabriel told to Aziraphale to shut his stupid mount and die already... how he was scared to death and jumped back when he first met Jim/Gabriel in the bookshop... He is deeply traumatized. Has kind of PTSD.

And in the end he is tired of pretending and denying. This is a weight he cannot carry anymore. He's done. They are solving an emergency and new one is already on the way. It is never-ending story. He's so done with that shit.

And I think this is what someone may see as something is odd with David. No, it's not David, it's Crowley. The lights, the shooting angles, his skin tone, everything are stressing out his wrinkles, his furrows. It's is all about to show how burnt-out Crowley is. Or will be very soon. Caused by the fear and, I'd even say, by the loneliness.

Poor thing, I want to hug him so much.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #crowley #good-omens #aziraphale and crowley

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heyhihellosworld · 1 year

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𝗛𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁! 𝐈𝐈

Pt 1 Pt 3

Mason Mount x reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: This is part 2 of 'He is not!'

Warnings: Smut x2 🫢, angst, fluff, slight argument

Notes: This may not make too much sense because it's jumping a lot. Also I got a bit carried away eheh. Always struggling with pt 2 of stories but loved writing pt 1 so I gave it a shot! And thank you for all the love on part 1, really thankful! xx

You were sat on the couch once again, but this time it was so much worse than this very morning.

Jack was yet again rambling but now you had done something, in his eyes very wrong and you couldn't really defend yourself. You'd tried but it wasn't very popular with your brother when your argument was that Mason was hot.

You swore you could see his eyes darken when you tried to reason with him that he was a good fuck and after that you'd just kept quite knowing it would be for the best.

"You promised!" he close to shouted, pacing back and forth in front of the couch you had slumped down into after he'd ushered you home from the club. You could still feel the remainants of alcohol in your blood even though you began to sober up and had been for the past couple of hours.

"Well I didn't fucking know he was in England! I was just happy I'd found a hottie who wasn't in City" you mumbled quietly

"Y/n" Jack whined, running his hands over his face.

He was done rambling now, never being able to keep angry at you for too long but sadly enough disappointment seemed to take longer to vanish. "Couldn't you've asked him?" he sighed out, sitting down in the love seat opposite you.

"What was I supposed to ask huh? Like hi i'm y/n you're really hot and I want to fuck you but firstly, are you possibly teammate with my brother?"

"That's one idea" he muttered, knowing it wasn't something you naturally asked someone but you still broke your promise and he would keep you to that for a long long time.

"It's not jack! I'm really sorry okay, I didn't mean to break my promise" you sighed, leaning your head back. You where really tired, it was late as hell, you'd been up early, you'd watched a very shaking game, you'd dranken a lil too much plus a good fuck on that, exhausting was a light word.

Jack sighed, looking at you with his deep brown eyes and a serious expression "Okay, okay just promise me that you wont do it again"

You closed your eyes, not wanting to promise that.

"Y/n" Jack glared at you in warning "no Jack, please"

"What, no no no. Never again" he argued, standing up again looking pissed.

"I'm not gonna promise that" you said lowly, refusing to meet his eyes. "What y/n! It was just a one-night stand, right?"

Your eyes fleeted around the floor trying to look at anything but him. "Yeah?" Realization dawned upon him and his eyes narrowed "He's already contacted you hasn't he?" he spoke darkly making you wince "What would you do if I said yes?"

"Show me!" he barked making you jump, snatching your phone tight in your hand. "Not a chance!"

"Y/N!"

"NO! He just said... that he... that he had a good time and wondered if I wanted to see him again sometime"

"And you of course said no"

"Uh... no?" you winced again, his look killing you.

"You've already said yes" he deadpanned, throwing his head back in absolute annoyance.

"Yeah" "Ah fuck you! And fuck Mason!" he grunted out, gesturing with his hand in the air.

"Come on Jack, it's already happened so the promise is already broken" you sighed "What's once or twice more?" He didn't answer your question but sighed instead, resting his eyes heavily on you

"Y/n If you see him again you're gonna make me really disappointed" he said lowly before gathering his stuff and walking out the door, probably going back to the club to find a shag. You heard him shut the door harshly behind him, leaving you groaning on the couch.

A week had gone and Jack had been in a little better mood since that day but he was still not as regular with you. It was strained and you hated yourself for betraying him like he felt you did.

Today you'd followed him to his England training, he was really reluctant to let you but when Mason mentioned he couldn't train with the squad because of a sore ankle he had said okay.

What he didn't know was that Mason still would be there, smirking at you as you walked past. He had been texting you all week, even calling a few times to just chat. Obsessing over you. (In a good way, not a perv/stalker way, just had to clear that up)

The training was a couple of hours but you loved watching them. They had a lot of fun and it was a good change from watching the serious games when it was die or survive.

You had only sat in the stand for about half an hour when Mason texted you.

You grinned at your phone before sneaking off, sending a text to Jack just in case he would see you not there to let him know you had gone to greet the staff and get something to eat. But in reality you where hurrying into the building and around the corner.

Mason stood with a huge grin on his face, leaning against the wall waiting for you.

He didn't even say hi before gripping your arm and pulling you into some type of closet or equipment room.

He immediately towered over you with a soft grin, his hand resting on your chin.

"We really shouldn't" you sighed, tilting your head up to look at him. he was standing so close you could kiss him if you wanted to but you restrained yourself, Jack's voice repeating in the back of your mind.

"I really couldn't care less about Jack right now" he breathed, his breath fanning your face, eyes literally boring into yours. It was impossible to resist him, to resist his gorgeous eyes and inviting lips. Something just dragged you towards him. "I should care... but I don't right now" you sighed before closing the space between your lips, attacking his with yours in a heated and desperate kiss. He met you with the same hunger, lips bruising as your tongues fought for dominance.

He pushed you against the door of the small room. A moan escaping your lips before you could stop it.

Both of your clothes were gripped, desperate hands grasping the items of fabric off, desperate to feel what was underneath. Your shirt was pulled up over your breasts, your bra pulled down enough so he could grasp at them without any fabric in the way.

Your jeans were gone just as his shirt, his jeans undone showing his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. His fingers were over your panties, rubbing your clit the best he could through the material. The touch made you whine, the lacy material causing even more friction against your sensitive nub sending your mind into mush.

"You like that huh? Can feel you soaking through" he whispered huskily against the shell of your ear causing a shiver through your body.

Your teeth chewed through your lip, trying to keep sane as he pushed his hand inside your panties.

He properly teased you, flicking one finger in and out of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit and back up over your thigh and stomach, creating a pattern to drive you crazy.

"Okay, okay" you breathed, reaching for his hand to stop his movements. He got what you signaled and stopped his fingers instead lifting you up by your thighs, pushing your back against the door further so that you were in the same height. Your arms tangled around his neck for support as he quickly swiped your underwear to the side and pushed his hips forward, teasing your slit with his tip. Anticipation coursed through your body, making you needy for him to just fuck you but Mason was a tease, and it obviously didn't matter if it was in a public restroom, an open cupboard or a bed.

Finally, finally you felt him slowly push into you, your eyes fell close as deep breaths escaped from your mouth. Your neck craned itself, resting against the door as he bottomed out inside of you.

You wanted to look at him so badly but it was hard as he began to move, instead you marveled in the small sounds he let out. Small huffs of air and small breathy moans left his lips whenever you pushed back onto him or clenched around him.

His hands were gripping you hard, nailing into your flesh as he pounded into you. It felt so much better sober, you could feel his every movement and ravel in it with a clear head. Your back hurt with every thrust as you were slammed up and into the door but it only made the whole thing better. His mouth was leaving sloppy kisses up your neck, nipping and licking over your exposed skin.

"Fuck" he mumbled into your neck as you squeezed around him again, "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that" he breathed out.

You forced your eyes open only to see him looking at you. His lips where slightly parted and eyes shiny. He looked proper fucked and it made you grin, your hand coming up to his cheek to stroke over his scruff as he continued to pound into you. "Do it, cum for me" you whispered against his mouth. You loved the way his eyes closed momentarily, a deep breath coming out of his mouth before he started to move even harder against you, letting himself go and search for his release.

You reached down to rub your clit as you sensed he was close. Mason loved when you did that, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to where you were connected, watching your face contort in pleasure and your fingers brushing over yourself.

He couldn't hold himself back any longer, groaning as he came inside of you, letting himself ride out his high before slowly pulling out.

You were breathing hard, looking into his brown eyes as he kissed you slowly, sensually, intertwining his tongue with yours. We was still holding you up against the door with determination.

He searched your eyes but you weren't sure for what as he slapped your hand away that was still absentmindedly rubbing circles over your clit, replacing it with his own fingers.

You gasped at the contact, his fingers being much rougher and picking up the speed immediately, feeling much better than your own.

"Mason" you breathed out, eyes closing again "it's okay, you don't have to" you tried but he huffed out a 'no'

"If you don't want me to, tell me to stop but if not i'm not gonna let you go without making you cum."

You moaned at his words feeling the high almost snapping already. It was not like you had been far from coming before and now you where tethering over that delicious edge.

"I-I'm gonna" you tried to warn him but he already knew, watching your face and hearing your whining sounds. "I know, I know, It's okay, cum" he murmured against your jaw loving the look on your face as you let go, squirming in his hold.

Once you'd come down from your high he helped you down on your feet, both of you cleaning up as much as possible before zipping up and straightening clothing.

Masons lips were on you all the time, not wanting to let go, desperate to feel the taste and softness of your lips.

"I have to get back" you said lowly, brushing away the hair in his eyes. "Do you really?" he asked with a whine making you chuckle "I do Mason"

"Can I see you again?" he asked desperately, eyes staring into yours with need.

And just like that Jack popped into your head, a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach as you nodded slowly. "I guess" you murmured, not convinced but Mason seemed to be satisfied with that answer, kissing your lips once more "I will text you" he smiled before leaving the small room.

The guilt only grew as you slipped into the bathroom to clean up properly before grabbing something from the cafeteria and settling in the stands again. Meeting Jack's worried look turn into recognition as you waved the coffee and sandwich at him, feeling like crying at his smile.

"Bro"

Jack ignored his shout, looking the other way while walking onto the pitch, already in a sucky mood after ignoring you that morning, hating to argue and not be close.

"Bro come on can we at least talk about it?" Mason tried, jogging to catch up with his long strides.

"No Mason, don't talk to me" Jack gruffed, speeding up even more but Mason had no problems catching up while running.

"Please"

"Mason just fuck off!" he grunted out, making heads turn as they where close to the others by now.

"No I want to talk to you about this" Mason huffed stubbornly, not expecting Jack to fly around, aggressively bumping into him with force.

"I said fuck off" he grumbled warningly.

"Hey hey hey, what's going on?" John stepped in, holding a hand on each of their shoulders to separate them.

Either of them answering, Mason looked down while Jack stared daggers at him.

"What is going on?" John repeated, not asking this time.

"What is going on is that Mason here is fucking my little sister!" Jack close to shouted, all heads turning to them now.

"y/n?" John asked in confusion, Jack only getting more annoyed "Yes y/n!"

"Bro what the fuck" Kyle stepped in, looking at Mason. "You fucked y/n?"

"I didn't even know he had a sister called y/n!" Mason defended, he unlike John and Kyle didn't share the club with Jack meaning they didn't meet that often and he didn't know him as good.

"I didn't even know who she was" Mason sighed, tired of it.

"When was this?"

"At the club after the City/Chelsea game, she was there. I met her first at the stadium then again at the club and we fu-hooked up in the bathroom. I just knew her name, I didn't know she was Jack's sister" he sighed dropping his head. Kyle nodded, understanding the situation. "Jack, listen to him. He didn't know" "I don't give a fuck, if he hadn't been with her again maybe I could have thought about it but now no" "You slept with her again?" Kyle sighed, John just stood quite beside them, letting Kyle sort it out, he was better at it.

"Uh-yeah"

"Man what the fuck" Kyle groaned "Why would you do that, I get you didn't know who she was the first time but surely you must've the second time"

"He did, I saw them both after the first time" Jack grumbled, glaring murderer still.

"I did"

"So why again? You know the rule bro"

"I-I don't know, She-I" Mason stuttered, not knowing how to phrase it for Jack's ears. "She is just really intriguing okay?! I needed to check in on her after or... hookup and then we just kept on texting"

"When was the second time?" Jack groaned, not liking to hear about it at all. "When she came for training" Mason mumbled, looking down on the ground. "Fucking shit" Jack grunted "You fucked her in a fucking closet or something?"

Mason winced, giving the answer away. "Fucking shit" Jack repeated, glaring hard.

"Bro" Kyle sighed, closing his eyes like if he was dealing with two fighting children. "I get you okay, I do I would be pissed too if he slept with my sister but you gotta keep it civil at training" Kyle stated calmly.

"Ah fuck of Kyle" Jack scoffed, moving away from the group to continue with their training instead, fed up by Mason and the whole situation.

Mason felt defeated, he didn't know what he could do or say to make Jack talk to him.

You where sneaking.

You'd never sneaked with something in front of Jack before but you convinced yourself that you would hurt him more if you told him straight to his face that you were sleeping with Mason. Deep down you knew you hurt him even more by sneaking around and risking he found out about it but you couldn't stand to see the pain you would have to cause him face to face.

"Where are you going?" Jack huffed from the couch making you stop dead in your track, your brain racking for some excuse but nothing came to mind.

"y/n?"

"Uh-I'm going out..."

He raised his eyes from the tv to look at you with furrowed eyes "What's the matter with you?" he chuckled, studying your nervous stance.

You could see the exact second the penny dropped, his smile disappearing and eyes narrowing

"no"

"I'm sorry okay!?" you exclaimed, not being able to take the disappointment in his eyes as he rested his heavy look on you. "Why, just why. You know I don't want you to be with my teammates because it will stir things around in the team. How could I go there and act like nothing happened when I know he's been fucking my little sister." "I understand you, I do but just... why is it such a big deal?"

"Because!" Jack almost shouted out, frustration tearing on his every part of being.

"Because I know how he is! I know how they all are! Searching around for quick fucks, arseholes! All of them ar arseholes!"

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your mouth at his outburst.

"I know that Jack. Come on, I know you and you are just like them but I am an adult, I promise I can care for myself. That first time I was just searching for a quick fuck and forget but then he reached out to see me again." "Don't trust him y/n, it doesn't matter if he texted you to see you again that's probably just because you were a good fuck.... oh my gosh I can't believe I just said that about my baby sister" Jack cried, rubbing his face with his hands.

You couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out from your mouth at his dramatics, patting his leg in a try to reassure him. "I can take care of myself Jack, I'm sorry that I fucked your teammate... twice but I can take care of myself. It's not like I'm in love with the bloke"

"I don't know y/n..." he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a stubborn child making you sigh at him, rolling your eyes which made him sigh too, giving up this argument. "Okay okay, you do you but please, I'm warning you now and I'm not about to pick up the pieces when he does what he always does"

"It's not gonna happen Jack"

"we'll see" he huffed, standing up and striding to his room. You collapsed back on the couch, you hated arguing with him, hated making him disappointed. You felt your heart drop as you heard his door slam shut and the lock turn, he only locked when he was seriously mad.

"I'm sorry Jack" you sighed for yourself before grabbing your wallet and exiting the house.

It wasn't long to Mason's hotel, maybe it was a little too close you thought as you stepped into the elevator up to his room floor.

You were excited to see him again but you couldn't shake off Jack's disappointed look and his pleas for you to not see him anymore. But as previously all those thoughts flew away as Mason swung the door open, meeting you with his charismatic smile as he gestured you into the room.

"I didn't think you would show up" "I'm sorry, I got into this whole thing with Jack" You sighed, slumping down on the couch with a grimace. "Oh, sorry" he mumbled, looking almost timid by the way he watched you.

You waved it off observing him as he walked closer to you "Don't worry bout it he is just dramatic" you smiled a small pang of guilt settling in your chest as you uttered the words. You knew how he felt about this yet here you were, in the middle of the night in Mason's hotel room for a booty call.

"He is really not okay with this huh?" You sighed, looking into his eyes "No, not really"

He looked down on the floor, guilt settling in him too. Jack was a good friend and it was well known that relatives was off market but he hadn't known who you where that first day and then he was hooked, obsessed with the way you felt, not having it in hm to stop whatever this was.

"But let's not think about him now huh?" You smiled at him, reaching out for him as he stopped right in front of you with a soft smile playing on his lips.

"No? So what do you want to think about?"

"Hmm" you teased, feigning thinking over the question.

Your fingers tangled together behind his neck, bringing his mouth down to yours. You let your lips faintly brush over his in a teasing manner, locking eyes with his. "Your dick?"

Mason groaned quietly at your answer, a smirk taking over your face. His lips melted into you fully this time, taking control and dominating the kiss despite your tries to put up a fight.

You were pretty desperate to get to the point, wanting to forget all rational thoughts and just get lost in pleasure but Mason stopped you before you could unbutton his pants.

"No way we are doing this in the couch when we for the first time have the chance to do it for real, in a comfortable bed"

You giggled at him, pushing him off of you and standing up. "Okay then"

You sprinted to the bed, Mason close behind you before jumping into it in a fit of giggles.

Mason quickly moved over you, hovering over your face with a foolish grin, hand coming to wipe your hair away from your eyes before meeting your lips hungrily, desperate to have you for real this time. Be able to take his sweet time and love your body for real, not just fucking you quickly and messily in a club bathroom or a closet at the training ground.

"You are so so beautiful" he whispered, mouth ghosting over your lips and down your neck, your body craning back to give him more access. His lips ghosted over your ear and down to your mouth again.

"I know you said you wanted to take your time but is that really necessary?" You whined, bucking your body upwards to get in contact with him.

Mason chuckled at you, pursing his lips "It is"

You couldn't help but whine, feeling the need to get some type of relief. "It's fine" he chuckled, sliding his hands up under your shirt to grasp at your boobs. Softly squeezing them over the material.

"Just fucking take it off" you grunted annoyed, pushing him up so you could sit before ripping the shirt of your body prompting him to do the same.

You almost salivated at his naked torso, flipping him around whilst he was focusing on tossing his shirt away, catching him off guard. If he was gonna take his time you would at least be in charge, not be the one getting teased but being the one teasing.

You moved down slightly, straddling his thighs as you slowly licked a stripe up his torso over his chest. His breathing caught in his throat, eyes closing as you littered small sensual kisses all over his chest, teasingly going lower before abandoning and working upwards again.

When you teasingly licked a stripe from the edge of his jeans up his navel he grunted, painfully hard at your ministrations.

"Okay stop it now, I get your point" he breathed, trying to reach for you.

You giggled against his skin, kissing up his body until your lips met his again.

"It was you who wanted us to take our time so that's what i'm doing love"

"Okay okay but I was wrong, let's just get to it" he rushed out, a light bubble of laughter escaping your mouth. "Aww"

You grinned before moving down again. Licking teasingly over his navel and down his small happy trail whilst you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Helping him out of them.

A sigh of relief left his mouth as he was freed from his jeans but he was still straining in his boxers as you teasingly trailed your fingers under his boxer band.

"Stop fucking teasing!" he grunted, sitting up and taking off his jeans and boxers as you chuckled at his impatience.

You leant down, looking up at him teasingly through your lashes as you licked a stripe up his dick. You slowly and teasingly licked his tip, kissing down the base before licking your way up again.

He could almost not contain himself, his erection only getting harder and harder at your teasing movements.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep going" he gruffed out between his teeth his hips moving on their own accord. You finally took pity on him, taking him in your mouth for real, bobbing your head and sucking at his tip.

"Y/n y/n, stop stop" he panted out, clawing at your hair to get you off his dick.

You grinned at him as you released him with a pop, kissing up his chest before meeting his mouth in a needy kiss.

Mason huffed as you moved back from his lips, moving you around in a swift movement, hovering over your face.

He mirrored your previous teasing, kissing down your body, stopping at your breasts to lick and suck over them. Your eyes struggled to stay open, you teeth desperately trying to keep your soft sounds in.

Soon your jeans and underwear where discarded and he was teasing one finger through your folds, teasing your hole before softly dragging them over your clit.

"Just fuck me Mase" you whined, bucking your hips up to prove your point further, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest as he moved up to your face again.

"Hm that's what you want?

"Yes Mase" you said lowly, rubbing your thumb over his scruff. He looked at you patiently, waiting for something more and you knew exactly what. Your eyes rolled as you clicked your tongue

"Please Mase" you muttered, slight sarcasm to your voice but Mason didn't care just narrowed his eyes at you before directing his tip to your entrance.

He didn't do anything else though, just teasing his tip at your entrance, rubbing it over your clit. His hands came to your hips as you tried to buck up to him, holding you still.

"Mason" you groaned, looking at him with a glare but that only got him to chuckle at you.

Instead of giving you what you wanted he started to tease you with his fingers again but this time he actually did something. Slowly pushing your walls apart he slid two of his fingers inside of you. Slowly moving them among your walls before hooking them to press on that perfect spot against your wall. Your eyes rolled back as your lips parted

"Yes Mase, keep doing that, keep going" you murmured, ignoring his smirk as he made you feel good.

He didn't do what you said though, stopping only a few moments later to your annoyance but this time he was done teasing, again running his dick against your sex but only for a few seconds before he slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was delicious, making your eyes shut close and breathing get heavier.

"Fuck" Mason grunted as he bottomed out "you just feel better every fucking time we do this"

You snickered at his comment, rubbing his chin lovingly as he slowly started to move, loving the way you pushed back against him every time.

He stuck to his words, taking his time. There were no desperate pounding, no messily sloppily quick fuck. He was slow in his movements, savoring the moment and you didn't mind it. Meeting his slow kisses and slow thrusts, bashing in the feeling of him. His strokes were firm, determined but slow, meeting your hips with an obscene sound.

His hands and mouth were everywhere, teasing your clit, twisting your nipple, stroking your hips, he was everywhere at the same time, overwhelming you with pleasure.

You lost track of time as you rocked together, both so into your own little bubble to think of anything else. Pleasure slowly building until it snapped, slowly dissipating before you came back to reality, your eyes opening to meet his.

You didn't wanna stay for long, a tinge of awkwardness settling as you sipped on your coffee, looking at him over your cup.

"I really should go" you said softly, his nod of recognition was pretty cynical as you stood up, placing the mug at the sink before grabbing your things.

"I'll text you" he said lowly, barely looking at you as you moved towards the door. You couldn't help the way your eyes rolled at his behavior, like he just a few hours ago hadn't cuddled up to you and told you how amazing you were.

"Bye Mason" you muttered, the whole thing really feeling like goodbye.

"Jack" you tried but he was relentless, pacing with such fury and determination you almost didn't dare look at him.

"How could he?!" he shouted angrily, his hands gesturing like they always did when he was angry.

"It's nothing" you tried but Jack was not giving in.

"What do you mean it's nothing y/n! It's all over the internet"

You sighed, looking down. Things haven't been going that great since you spent the night at his hotel. He had texted you to say sorry for his behavior the morning after and you'd started texting just like before. But then only a few days later there had been tabloids everywhere of him with some girl.

"Have you seen the pictures?" he asked, his voice lowering as he saw your face. It wasn't like you'd fallen head over heels for him but it still stung, it really stung.

"No"

"Ugh" he groaned "I said this was gonna happen, didn't I?" he sighed, sitting down next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you, your head resting on his shoulder whilst his rested on yours.

"You did" you said lowly

"But you also said you wouldn't be here when it did"

"I know" he sighed, kissing the top of your head. "But I lied, I will always be here, regardless of what I say" he said softly, making you smile.

"Thank you"

#footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #england nt #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfiction #jack grealish #jack grealish fluff #jack grealish imagine #mason mount angst #manchester city #chelsea #he is not!

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chaifootsteps · 2 months

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One of the main reasons why Sir Pentious getting to Heaven felt so underwhelming and unwarranted to me is that HH paints it as Charlie's redemption theory being valid and true and her methods actually working

When she barely did anything to help Sir Pentious as the show barely showed us what Charlie's methods are beyond that trust fall bit you can see in summer camps

It doesn't help that redemption is about correcting the wrongs of the past after fully admitting you were at fault when you did them and feeling legitimately regretful that you committed those wrong acts

... We still don't know what Sir Pentious did in his past to end up in Hell. We as an audience know JACK about his backstory and I don't think the cast knows anything about it either

By all means, SP might have gotten to Heaven for doing things that had nothing to do with his mistakes back when he was alive. If that's the case, then not only is Charlie's redemption theory false as what happened with SP has nothing to do with redemption, her methods to reach Heaven are pretty basic and already standardized which brings the potential for the show down to zero. The premise got shot with this finale twist as it's pretty clear Charlie's methods at her Hotel are formulaic and don't depend on the sinners' past wrongs

You know what could have been a good concept ? Have Charlie show SP's progress to the Council of Angels through the globe instead of Angel Dust's only for them to ponder about it and see rather positive on the matter, Sera included, before saying: "As final trial, we will bring them here and have them be his judges."

The doors open and a dozen angels walk in having seemingly been summoned

The Council motions to the globe: "You have been called today to make an important decision. We would like you to first observe this fully then answer a simple question."

The angels do that, they watch the entire reel of everything SP did while under Charlie's care, with Charlie nervously anticipating their answer

The Council: "Now for the question: From all that you've seen,

Would you consider this man worthy of redemption and as such ready to join this side of the Afterlife?"

Many of the angels are just dumbfounded at hearing this, a bunch just storm off and others look scared at the thought.

What remained decide between each other before whispering the answer to Sera

Sera then declares simply: "The Jury have made their decision :

Sir Pentious hasn't done what it takes for his soul to be redeemed and accepted into Heaven."

Charlie: "What? Why not? Not that I have anything against your Jury but what power do they have to decide that you lack for this decision?"

Sera: "The Jury overseeing your Sir Pentious is made up of every soul he has wronged in his past. You have to understand: They have fairly earned their Afterlife regardless of what awful and unjust things he has done to them. To have us decide ourselves if he can join them up here after all the wrongs he has done to them in the living would be unfair; as such the final decision is theirs. If they see his new ways as a true change on his part and choose to forgive him, he would have indeed earned his place in Heaven.

This wasn't the case today."

I want this so much. I want Hazbin to be in the hands of someone mature enough to actually write this.

#Anonymous #Hazbin Hotel critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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octopiys · 8 months

Text

I've been rewatching HTTYD and of course I had to combine my two interests

John MacTavish (27) is a native to the village, most recognized for his shaved sides and long mohawk. He's the village blacksmith, with an affinity for crafting new weapons, large ones that counter even a dragon's fireball.

Once when he was a teenager, he got his hands on a craftsman's items, and decided that he needed some of it to slick down a part of one of his contraptions. It exploded, as those kinds of things do, into a mass of bubbles and sweet scents, earning him the nickname of Soap.

John Price(37) is a trainer. He was an older viking whose battle seemed all but over when a dragon took his arm. He was still the same, just more experienced, and 10 years older.

He's had a few apprentices, his most recent being a younger man named Kyle Garrick(28), or commonly referred to as Gaz. If you ever ask why he's called that, Price will mutter something about it being "need to know", and he'll sick a particularly nasty dragon on you the next time you train with him.

There's a common pattern amongst Price's protégés.

Most of the times they're outcasts, alone. Gaz's parents were killed in a dragon attack when he was a child, but he didn't consider himself alone. He had plenty of friends, of course he did, there's Soap...-

No but totally, he was fine. He's fought dragons! Sure, he hasn't killed any yet, and sure, Price has saved his ass more than once, but he's come out unscathed!

Most of the time.

But Price's most famous protégé, or shall I even say very close ally, was the Lieutenant: Simon Riley

From the stories, Simon Riley was a man who fought dragons like no other. They both learned from each other, Price and Riley. He was a beast of blades and man, they slayed more dragons together than the entire village combined.

It would be a lie if I said that the two boys didn't look up to him, a lie if Price didn't see Riley in each of them.

It would be an even bigger lie if he hoped they didn't turn out like him, either.

Neither Gaz, nor Soap had ever met Simon Riley.

He was killed in one of the worst dragon attacks the village had seen in its entire 300 years of history.

They descended from the heavens, flying warriors sent from hell, carting off men and cattle, snapping them up in powerful jaws and flame. Price was one of those men, it was how he lost his arm. He was also the only one to survive a personal attack of that scale.

Riley had thrown everything he had to save Price. There were tricks he had up his sleeves, some that not even Price had known, that he used to get the Captain back when even he thought he was done for.

All they knew was that Simon Riley had been killed that night in place of John Price.

Those parts of the stories were left untold.

It wasn't a sensitive subject, but Price had a tendency to shatter the glass he was holding if someone asked one too many times.

It had been ten years since Riley's disappearance. His name was inscribed on the village memorial in the square, a remembrance statue to all the greatest warriors in the village's history.

It was a particularly late night when Price had let Gaz go early, as the dragon tournament was coming up, and he wanted the man to get some rest. That's how both Gaz and Soap were out by the bluffs overlooking the ocean. It was hidden through a mile of brush and trees, but tonight was one of the first clear nights since the winter, and they were excited to see the stars.

It wasn't until stars had started blinking out, half the sky was black, that they realized something was wrong.

"Dragons...." Gaz breathed suddenly, as mouths began to light up, hundreds of feet in the air above them. "It's dragons!"

Gaz pulled Soap to his feet and they began running like their lives depended on it, which in this case, it did.

Their lungs were already sore, their voices hoarse as they shouted to a few men on the outskirts.

"Swarm! Swarm!"

Vikings readied their weapons, and minutes later, the beasts shot overhead. Flashes of red, blue, greens, and yellow, silver glinting unnaturally in the moonlight.

There had been rumors about dragon riders. Those who had tamed the beasts, or maybe found a common ground with them.

There was nothing more dangerous than a man-tamed dragon.

"It's Kingfish!" Someone down the hill had shouted, and Gaz's blood ran cold.

There were whispers about a man they called Kingfish, one who hid in the shadows with armies of the scaled monsters, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting villages and pillage them for himself. No one knew his real name, where he came from, or where the nest was. But everyone knew that once Kingfish set his sights on a village, they were as good as dead.

They saw Price leave his house, half armored, but a fire in his eyes as he heaved his Warhammer behind him, disappearing behind the body of a massive dragon that was scaling the watchtower down by the water.

"Soap! C'mon!" Kyle shouted, dragging his friend down the hill. The Blacksmith paused at his shop window, pulling a few weapons away from the sill and into his arms. They kept running. Soap passed an axe to Gaz, and they ran first to a house that was lit aflame. A few people were tossing buckets of water, while a woman pulled arrows at a Whispering Death.

Farther away, they heard the crunch and splintering of wood, and Gaz looked over in horror to see the watchtower fall, both the dragon and Price going with it.

"No!" He had screamed, all but dropping his axe as he started running like mad down towards the docks. "Captain!"

"Gaz!" Soap was shouting behind him as a trebuchet fired, throwing a large stone at some dragon above him. "Gaz, look out!"

Large, leathery wings kicked up a storm of dust around him as he was tackled to the ground, rocks digging into his knees and elbows as he fought to get the beast's claws out of his shoulders. It pressed his face into the dirt as he struggled to fight against it. It cut through his shirt, digging straight into his skin. He cried out, fighting against it, but his movement was impaired, he wasn't able to swing his axe around to-

The dragon opened its mouth and screamed, the shriek going directly to his ear drums, and springing the worst headache he'd ever had, his head felt like it was going to explode, he couldn't feel his shoulders. Gaz squeezed his eyes shut, praying to Odin to make it stop, make it-

A dagger sunk directly in between two of its center scales, shocking the dragon into dropping him as it turned on its next enemy. Someone was shouting, but Gaz couldn't get his eyes to focus enough on the figure.

They were waving wildly at the dragon, now weaponless, and shouting for its attention. The dragon cocked its head to the side and stepped over Gaz, who was struggling to stand to his feel, his whole equilibrium thrown off from the noise.

And he glimpsed the the mohawk just behind the scales as the dragon lunged forward, grasping Soap in his claws and shooting off into the air.

"No!! Soap!!" Gaz shouted, chasing after the dragon as it flew. He could just see the outline of Soap, struggling, screaming as the claws pierced his leather armor, sinking into his chest. He was too high, and there was nothing Gaz could do, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try. He shoved past people, ran through fights, passing the dark clad enemies of Kingfish's men, all while shouting for his friend, never once taking his eyes off the Whispering Death that was slowly growing smaller and smaller in the night sky.

An arrow pierced his shoulder and he cried out, stumbling, but he kept going forward, ducking behind a house. "Soap! Soap!"

A fireball exploded the wall next to him and he hit the wall hard, his consciousness leaving him before he even realized what had happened.

Soap was helpless as he squirmed, gasps being torn from his chest with the leather apron that fell away into the ocean below. He was gonna die, this was it. He couldn't see the island anymore, but he wasn't giving up. And yet this wyrm of a Whisper wouldn't let up, only shrieked until the pounding behind his eyes made him too lightheaded...

He wasn't sure what was happening when he woke up from a faint, but he sure as he'll knew he shouldn't be plummeting to death, rocketing towards the sea below him in a free fall. "Och! Shi-i-i-ite!" He flung himself onto his stomach, spreading his arms and legs apart to catch the air. His braid had come loose, whistling around his ears as the moonlit waves approached him too quickly.

Something else snatched him up like he was free prey and he shouted out again, the wounds on his chest screaming from the strain. His hands scrabbled at the beast's nails that wrapped around both his shoulders, carrying him like he was precious cargo. This was a different dragon, unfortunately for him. It was red, from what he could see, with long claws and a pale underbelly. There were antennae like appendages that dropped off the sides of its head, fading from red to orange to yellow towards the end, like leaves in autumn. But what jarred him the most was the straps of a saddle that tucked underneath its belly, and wrapped up the sides. There were a few ropes attached to the tail and- oh fuck he was falling again.

"No no no no-!" He shouted, flailing in the free air, before he hit something hard beneath him. But he wasnt.... dead...? No, he was sitting-

He was sitting on a dragon.

There was a man who sat in front of him, blond hair peaking out of his hood and helmet. Most of the helmet covered his face, save for the dark brown eyes glaring at him from behind it. In the darkness, the moon light shone off of the raised texture of pale skin that Soap could see, before smoothing off. He'd seen scars like those around the village, but only rarely. People like him never usually survived dragon's fire.

This person wasn't wearing black like Kingfish's men were. Instead, he was wrapped in a camouflage of browns, greens and furs, similarly to the dragon. He was tense, his shoulders bunched up as he glared at Soap, radiating a dark, or in other words, mysteriously powerful energy.

It occurred to him, then, that he wasn't staring at just a dragon rider.

And it occurred to him, then, that they had been wrong.

This.... this was Lieutenant Simon Riley.

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