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bloodreddemons · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel Episode 7-8 (Finale) Hot Takes ~

I personally loved a lot of the Charlastor content in the beginning. So cute.

The deal Alastor purposed to Charlie was also very predictable. We already knew they were going to eventually make a deal but that deal in particular was just very predictable.

I think everyone knows this already but that "one little favor" that Alastor is going to ask of her is going to bite her in the ass. We don't know what he's going to ask but it's definitely gonna come back to haunt her.

She may even make a deal with him again possibly in the future, who knows.

I'm surprised Vaggie didn't know Angel's could be harmed or killed. Its weird that she also didn't know how to fight against one.

Rosie is a real gem and a wayyyyy better friend than Mimzy fucking is.

I love Carmilla & Vaggie's dynamic. I think they both are very much the same personality wise. I definitely can see Carmilla as a mother figure to her or at least a teacher to her, which she pretty much is.

To follow up, I loved Carmilla training Vaggie and helping her get her wings back. Out For Love was also really really good. I liked it a lot.

Never thought I'd hear Alastor call someone an old bitch but it was everything.

I knew Charlie was gonna forgive Vaggie regardless of anything but I love Auntie Rosie.

I didn't really like "Ready For This". I wish I did like it. Especially since it had Charlie, Alastor, & Rosie in it. Idk I liked Out For Love more.

Vox's commentary was funny asf but he's also such a hater. Not even a low-key one lmao.

The post-fight celebration and speech was actually very sweet. Although I wish there was more time and episodes that we could have seen more of the characters bond. I also wish there were more opportunities where we got to know them better.

I really thought Angel & Husk were gonna fuck this episode.

I wasn't expecting for Sir Pentious to say "I love you" to Cherri Bomb so soon and I also didn't need to know he had 2 dicks.

"More Than Anything" Chaggie version was pretty sweet. It'd be cool if there was a longer version idk if there is. They also kissed which was nice.

Adam & Lute are funny asf. Especially Adam. They may be horrible people but I just can't get over how funny they are. Even when they're about to massacre Charlie's people. Lol.

I wasn't expecting the war to be kinda epic. The shield that Alastor put up over the hotel kinda reminded me of the last Harry Potter. When they all put a shield around Hogwart's to protect everyone from the death eaters and voldemort.

Adam might just be the funniest character in this series dead or alive. Heaven or Hell.

It pisses me off how Charlie barely does anything in the fight. Like, this is her people and her fucking hotel as she keeps saying... yet everybody else but her is fighting. Wtf? Girl yo ass should be in Sloth.

I love Alastor & Adam's dynamic, their first impression of eachother is so hilarious. The fight between them was also very entertaining. I was really curious to see who would win.

I was actually kinda surprised that Alastor was defeated so easily. I honestly thought he was stronger than that, but tbh Adam is very powerful he's the fucking first man, extermination commander, and he already single handedly broke Alastor's shield.

People have pointed out Alastor's "normal" voice when his mic/staff breaks, because it's his voice without the radio filter. Imma be honest I wasn't that shocked at all, he just sounds the same to me, the radio filter just adds a cool effect.

Charlie really could have got tf up there and helped Alastor out. Idk if she thought he could handle himself or what but fuck.

SIR PENTIOUS KISSING CHERRI WAS AMAZING. WE WON. But then he "died"...

To follow up that sacrifice was anticlimactic at the same time. Mostly because of the way Adam just effortlessly zapped him out of existence.

I'm so disappointed in the "Charlie finally snaps" bit. I was literally dying to see this part in the series, where Charlie finally loses her shit and stands up for herself or whatevever....but it ended up being extremely disappointing and yet again, anticlimactic.

Charlie's transformation along with Razzle & Dazzle was kindaaa cool, however...her getting her ass kicked within like 0.3 fucking seconds was not. It was embarrassing for a demon of her status. I can understand Alastor, but seriously Charlie? You can't beat him? The clownery.

I loved the Vaggie & Lute fight. Let my girl Vaggie finally get her ones. Lute needs her ass beat disrespectfully for what she did.

Although...Lute was winning that fight, she was still holding her own and getting more hits in. I don't even think Carmilla's teaching's were working. Lmao damn. That bitch is fucking scrappy.

Vaggie should have just ended Lute. I know she's too good for that, but she really should have just killed that bitch. She left you for dead you should have just killed her.

Charlie stabbing Adam and standing her ground was badass, but that was kinda it. She still ends up almost getting choked out. Lame.

Charlie just isn't that powerful. 😒 Or at least as she's supposed to be. Maybe it's still not really shown to us, but so far she just isn't that threatening at all. Very disappointing.

Lucifer coming in kinda pissed me off. I wish Charlie could have actually handled everything herself without her dad having to come in and help her. I just feel like it'd be more impactful for her and her character.

Adam x Lucifer actually does seem kinda hot....just me???

Their fight was very entertaining despite already knowing who would come out on top. Hehe.

"All of Mankind came from these fucking nutts" is pure poetry.

Nifty is a menace and I have been saying it since the very beginning. If anyone should be running shit it should be her. Alastor is so feared but it should be herrrr.

I didn't like "The Show Must Go On" as a song but it was sweet in the sense that it was about Charlie and her found family helping her rebuild her hotel and still have the determination to keep going. Also it helps lead off into Season 2.

I'm fucking itching to know what deal is bothering Alastor and who he made it with. It's becoming more likely that it's with Lilith & that's who owns him.

I think it's obvious the deal possibly involve's Alastor to watch over or protect Charlie. Alastor is becoming bothered by having to do this because he literally almost fucking died.

I'm really worried about what Alastor is going to do when he's finally free and under no restraints from who controls him. I know Viv said Alastor isn't an antagonist but she could've just been keeping it a secret.

Alastor really might be a secret antagonist. He'll just be that surprise villain in the end that kinda comes out of nowhere but you still knew it was coming. I wouldn't trust him especially with what he said. Him pulling the strings can't be good.

I can't believe Sir Pentious got redeemed before Angel Dust, but still good for him! I'm so happy he got redeemed he truly is good and deserves it.

I was pissed asf when I saw Lilith in Heaven. Your daughter has been in HELL fucking struggling, while you've been sitting comfy up in heaven, the same place that is fucking YOUR people up!!! Helloooo??

My theory is that Lilith is Eve in disguise. I wholeheartedly believe that because something just feels off?? Y'all feel that too??? Lilith making a deal with Adam? Chilling up in Heaven? NAH MAN.

I also think it could be Eve who owns Alastor and that he knows of her being disguised as Eve, and is in Heaven. Like he's kinda in on it, but more so by force.

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schrodingers-deadbitch · 11 months

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Half A Corpse

Chapter One

The soft hum of the radio filled the silent car ride, the four bodies inside somewhat anticipating what was to come. It had been a couple of days since they had left the ruins of Amity and were making their way to their new home in Gotham.

If any of them had their own way they would have stayed in Amity and mourned what they had lost. Every Amity Parker would have, even Dan. But with some prompting from none other than Clockwork, they all made their way to their new homes. Where was that? Wherever their hearts took them.

Most, like the Nightingale's, left for Gotham. Others, Metropolis. Some strayed from the trend and moved to places like Central City or even far into the countryside. But it was as Clockwork said, and they went where their hearts took them.

“This place smells of death.”

Jazz couldn't tell if her sister was complaining or not but she wouldn't blame her if she were.

“Haven't you been to Gotham before?” She asked, her eyes drifting upwards to the rear view mirror to look at Dani, only to see her sitting upside down. “Also if you keep that up I'll be the one going to jail not you.”

“It was actually the first place I went because I thought it was interesting,” She said while shifting herself into an upright position “but I could sense that it was someone's haunt so I didn't intrude.”

“Good thing you didn't. She doesn't have the ability to deal with many of the issues within her city but Lady Gotham is a powerful spirit nonetheless, and doesn't do well with outside ghosts.” Dan stated, putting down his book to give his full attention to his little sister.

“Well if that's the case why did she let us in?”

“Because Clockwork and I asked very nicely.” Danny yawned at her. He was still waking up from his nap. He was very, very tired.

Dani didn't ask any more questions. She was already off of that topic and was now observing the city around her. She was completely enamored. Fascinated by how well both the modern and gothic architecture complemented each other. To her (and probably everyone else in the car);

“It gives dark academia vibes, ya know! Just modern. And with lots of crime.” Her voice filled with awe and wonder.

“Excusing the fact that you've been on the internet too much as of late, it would have been better if there was a little more sunlight.”

They all couldn't have agreed more. True to every Gothamite's words, the sun did not shine in Gotham. And with all the smog, probably never will.

From there on the car ride was filled with convocation. Everyone had something to say about their new city. Their new home.

***

Danny never thought that he would be having a conversation with Sam about what it meant to be low-key but here he was.

“Yeah, I know you said that you wanted something low-key but there was no way I was going to let you guys live in some shabby apartment. So I bought a place and renovated it for you guys.”

Danny rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on. “Yeah okay I thank you for that. But what's the cafe, book shoppy thing down bottom huh?”

“Well you guys said that you wanted to be self-sufficient.” Sam stated as if that would answer his question. Based on pure context alone it did.

"Sam, you know we literally live in a place called Crime. Alley. Right? I know we border the Narrows but that's not the point.”

She sighed. “You guys refused my help because you said it would ‘feel like using me’, “ Danny could just hear the air quotes from over the line, “but let's face it! Jazz is doing college full time and you and Dani will be going to school. The only person left to work in Dan. And no offense to him but he looks shady AF.”

A shout came from the other side of the house informing them that no offense was taken.

“Anyways,” she continued “Dan looks hella shady. And from what I can tell, no one's gonna hire a shady person. Especially if they come from Crime Alley or the Narrows. The only work he would probably get is from a shady garage or joining a gang and doing straight up crime.”

Danny sighed and shook his head, plopping himself into one of the beanbag chairs Sam furnished the house with. She had a point and she was also painting a clear image in his head about how that would work out.

“Besides, I set up a protection circle after renovations were finished and I've gotta say it's the best work I've done yet.”

He could feel Sam's pride through the phone. She was probably puffing up her chest like a peacock.

“Yeah I felt it coming in. I don't know shit about magic but I could tell that it was pretty good. What does it do again?”

The next hour was filled with endless chatter between the two. It became even longer once Tucker joined the conversation.

Jazz couldn't help but watch her little brother talk so animatedly with his friends. He just looked so happy. Like everything that had happened to them didn't even happen. It was kinda unnerving. What she was seeing here, the happy go lucky boy she saw in the orphanage all those years ago, and what she saw a couple back just wasn't adding up. That couldn't have been her brother. It couldn't. But it was.

Her breathing was becoming ragged as she started to shake. She sighed in relief feeling the presence of Dan beside her.

“He's going to remember, you know.” He said, handing her a cup of jasmine tea. She took it gratefully and Dan continued. “Clockwork said that the seals would break eventually-”

“He also said that he needed a trigger.” She snapped at him. After a moment of realization she apologized. He continued.

“CW doesn't do anything uncalculated Jazz I just want you to know that.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, her voice quivering a bit.

“He had a whole life before he met you, Jazz. One he doesn't remember. That should say something sis.”

He walked away before she could say anything else.

@emergentpanda-blog

@epilepticnerd

@justwannabecat

@wind02summer

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dcxdp #demon twin au #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #batfamily #damien wayne #batman

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xxshujiswhorexx · 29 days

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Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 4)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

“Hey, Val, can we talk real quick?”

“Hm? Voxy, baby, what’s the problem~?” Vox jogged up to Val, trying to catch him on the way to his studios, a long day of work ahead the two of them. He hands Valentino a coffee he got for him, from that nice place on brimstone avenue, and Valentino takes a long sip from it, releasing a pleased groan at the scalding fluid.

“It’s about my assistant, Y/N.”

“Your cute little conejita? Whatever is the matter, hm?”

Vox wasn’t quite sure how to phrase his question. “Well, it’s just that- Y’know, it’s almost spring and-“

“Voxy, baby, I love you, but get to the fucking point.” Valentino’s patience was thin, on a good day.

“Yeah, well, I need you to stop winding her up. The poor bunny can barely function with her, uhm, season, approaching, let alone with you feelin her up all the goddamn time.”

Valentino let a low chuckle at this, taking a long drag of his scarlet smoke, throwing his now empty coffee cup into the nearest bin, before gracefully draping his long arms onto his hips.

“But she’s so fucking fun to wind up, baby. Besides, it only January, i still got at least a month before it starts just being mean. I swear, one of these days, Voxy, if you’re not careful, I’m gonna snatch up that bebé bonita and make her mine~”

Vox let out a low growl at this, his screen glitching as his eye twitched with annoyance. If he knew Valentino well enough (which he probably did), it was unlikely he’d make such an obvious move. Key word - unlikely. Valentino was unpredictable; if he had a genuine interest, Satan knows the lengths he will go to.

“Fine. Just at least promise me, next time you make a mess of the poor girl, you’ll at least finish the fucking job so I don’t have to clean up your mess.”

“Oh, I think we both know I will~” Valentino’s grin sharpened, almost salivating at the thought of of having you sprawled out under him, face red and puffy, ears teary, your swollen lips covered in drool-

Well, that’s a thought for when he has the time to scheme.

~meanwhile~

It was 7:30 am when your alarm went off. You woke uo with a jolt, your body still exhausted despite your mind being wide awake, legs heavy like lead, thighs and pussy sore. With a groan, you dragged yoirself out of Vox’s comfy bed, the mattress almost willing you to stay in bed all day, despite the no doubt mountains of work you had to do.

Throwing on a blouse and a navy pencil skirt with matching heels, you gave your hair a quick brush, quickly looking yourself over in the mirror.

‘Looking good, bunny!’ You gave yourself a cheeky grin, being your own hype man in light if the empty apartment around you. Checking the time once again, you sighed lightly, grabbing your laptop and blazer, you set off towards work, thinking of treating yourself to a nice hot cocoa from the cute cafe on brimstone avenue on the way to work.

You really did like your job. Sure, it was exhausting, but the work was rewarding; you got help coordinate schedules, review scripts, fill out paperwork, and of course, you got to hang out with Vox! Your boss really was the best, he always made sure you were busy; he knew how much you loved feeling useful.

Entering the building, humming a merry tune you had heard on the radio earlier, you greeted the receptionist.

“Good morning, Annie! Have you had a good morning so far?”

“Why, good morning to you to, Y/N! You seem in an awful good mood today, my dear!”

You grinned at the woman, leaning against her desk with glittering eyes.

“I’m just happy to be at work today, Annie.”

“I truly don’t think i’ve ever met a young person who quite likes their job like you do, love.”

The two of you shared a giggle, as she showed you some pictures of her new grandchildren. Annie was such a sweet lady; one of your favourite coworkers, in fact. She always had somethjng nice to say, and a warm smile and anecdote to welcome you with.

A sharp, british accent cut through the usual bustle of the floor.

“God, where is that girl? I’m down a model and i need someone with some fucking class for lucifer’s sake!” The confident voice of Velvette rang through the floor, employees cowering at her commanding presence, hiding as she scoured the floor.

“Ah! There you are, my darlin’!”

Your back straightened significantly, tugging at your skirt as Velvette’s eyes lit up as she spotted and approached at a brisk pace.

“H-hello, Ms Velvette! C-can i help you in a-any way?”

She brushed off your now nervous demeanour, hastily looking you up and down before grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you towards the elevator.

“Yes, yes my darlin’, Vox told me you’d be here. Listen, babe, I’m down a model for a loungewear photoshoot i’ve planned to do today, and i need you in my department, okay love? You just gotta stand there and look pretty, which you are already doin’ a fantastic job at.”

Her flattery causes your cheeks to darken, as you limply allow her to drag you into the elevator, up a floor, and into one of her studios. Well, there goes all the work you had planned for the day.

Truth be told, you did quite like Velvette; she made easy conversation and could be quite the smooth talker despite her inclination towards bluntness. She also designed the cutest clothes, which was a bonus. Overall, she was fun to work for. Unless she deemed you incompetent. Then, life fucking sucked.

The first outfit she forced you into was a silky pajama set, relatively baggy on you, revealing your collar bones as she directed you into posing for, the photos capturing your timid aura. The second outfit were Vees branded tracksuits; each designed to mimic tbe style and colour scheme if each Vee. A black and read one with skulls and hearts; Velvette. A blue and red one with wiring details; Vox. Pink and lilac with feathers and hearts; Valentino. She once again had you pose for each one, captiring the details of the fashion whilst simultaneously capturing your contrasting delicate beauty. Finally, she gave you a second pajama set, this time shorts and a button up, completely complimenting your leporine appearence, producing absolutely adorable promotional material. Well, if Velvette was pleased, it was all worth it.

“Wonderful my darlin’, thank you so much for your cooperation, love.” She kissed both your cheeks affectionately, sending you off the change back into your work clothing.

However, on the way to the changing rooms, you were stopped by the familiar sound of a staticky voice.

“Velvette? Are you done with my assistant yet? I got a shit ton of work and all my other employees are apparently fuckin useless-”

Vox froze when he saw you; all vulnerable in a silky pajama set covered in strawberries. A smirk grew across his face, and you grimaced in embarassment.

“Velvette, my dear, great taste as always. Now, if you don’t mind, me and my assistant have some work to get back to.” Vox spoke, commanding the room, as his gaze never for a second left your own.

A/N: Sorry the update took so long I am very busy lol.

Btw the reason Y/N is so nervous around authority figures and strangers is to do w her backstory :) her sudden personality changes are intentional

Tags: @enby-rising @whocaresimnothere @christineblood @sirenetheblogger @vash-yuu

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel vox #alastor x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #smut #baby bunny #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 24 days

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can we get a fic where r is a nurse or med student and she just had a terrible terrible day at work and steve just comforts her? ly <3

i know nothing about the medical world so forgive me. kinda basing this from a breakdown i had after orientation for my job then texting a friend for some help.

masterlist

silence. peace and quiet after a twenty-four hour on call shift. no beeping monitors, no patients getting angry with you, no messes to clean up; just you sitting in your car letting your brain melt. and then the tears started to sting, face pinching to withhold yourself but letting the floodgates free. your breathing was labored and your head was getting fuzzy, you hoped no one was a witness to your breakdown.

fingers death gripping onto your leather steering wheel, head falling forward and almost hitting your horn. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to take deep slow breaths, needing to steady yourself before making the thirty minute drive back to your apartment where steve was waiting for you.

steve. with his name popping into your head you reached into your bag, pulling your phone and flipping it open then pressing one to speed dial the landline. the dial tone rang twice and then you heard his voice.

“harrington residence.” just those two words from your husband lifted your sorrows for a moment, allowing you to calmly speak into the receiver. “hi honey.” a sigh of relief before a wet hiccup followed.

you could hear the concern when steve asked, “hey, you off? need me to pick you up?” already knowing you had your car with you, but also knowing you would be exhausted to drive.

you shook your head even though it wasn’t seen, “no, no. just… just wanted to see if you needed anything?” closing your eyes as the welling tears continued. “want something for lunch? was gonna stop by-“

“it’s fine, honey. i already cooked something for you. just get home safe. i love you.” and he didn’t hang up right away, waiting for you to respond back. a croaked “i love you,” then quick to press the end call button. you took deep calming breaths, five in five out, before starting the engine and cutting the radio off.

you kept to the speed limit, sometimes going three over or even five under causing people to honk and speed past you. you didn’t have the energy to care about their pissed stares, just counting the stop lights until you hit your block, rolling into the complex then pulling into your parking spot.

your bones felt like liquid as you gathered your bags and drinks, locking your car then heading up the one flight of stairs. a quick left then past three doors and you stood outside yours, number 736, a lovely floral reef circled the peep hole.

with a heavy hand you slid your key into the lock, turned the knob and was greeted to the warm lighting and laugh track blaring from the tv. the lingering smell of mac and cheese with some baked chicken and steamed veggies caused your stomach to gargle.

“hey pretty.” steve’s smooth voice slid into the hallway with you, his hands reaching out to take your load off your shoulders.

he made sure to keep your belonging organized and hang your coat on the rack. he knelt to the floor and helped tug your sneakers off your aching feet before ushering your further into the apartment to the couch.

reruns of your favorite sitcom light the room as steve leaned in to press a tender kiss on your left temple, eyes closing in contentment. “i’ll be back with our food.”

steve was gone less than five minutes and you could feel your eyes growing heavy as each second passed, head lulling to rest on the back of your couch. you smiled and chuckled low at a joke you already knew, but it still tickled you pink.

“kept it in the oven to stay warm. hope it taste good, i followed the recipe for the mac and chicken, but you know me.” steve set the two plates on the small table covering your feet. “how’s my girl doing?”

he rested a palm to your left thigh and rubbed over your scrubs comfortably. you took a deep inhale before sighing out, “draining.” the one word sufficient in summarizing everything.

steve hummed, “sorry. but luckily you’re taking the next two days off. how about we just rot in bed for one day and then be slightly adults the next day. how’s that sound?” his browns eyes darkened and shaded with the flickering light.

leaning your head onto his right shoulder and fighting sleep you yawned out, “sounds perfect.” the laugh track and commercials becoming your white noise.

#erin’s blurb requests #stever harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine

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venuscrashed · 2 months

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Hi there!

Can I maybe get some Hc of the demon brothers with a male Alastor (from Hazbin hotel) like reader (maybe reader is a demon, but not from the devildom, but from actual hell?) Kinda want to keep this short, so here= Reader always has his staff/mic thing with him- no matter where he is. Reader basically always wears old-fashioned suits, has Alastor's sharpish teeth, and is basically always smiling (like Alastor does). How would the demon brothers react to first meeting reader? What would they think of reader at first? How would they act towards reader at first/and after they became friends (or dating, either is fine c:)? Sorry if this is long. I hope ur having a nice day/noon/night :]

low key never watched the show so sorry about that

word count: 1k (total)

warnings: death mentioned in Belphies part, it sucks, literally pulled this out from the back of my closet, gn reader, tags are to reach a wider audience btw

Lucifer: He actually didn’t know what you looked like considering you stuck to the radio. It worried him but nonetheless he was intrigued by your style. The old fashion suits and the staff reminded him of how humans were before he fell. He was also captivated because he could fell the pride in you, your ego was never shown but he could sense the way you felt superior around others. After you become friends he mainly sticks to his office but does hang out with you from time to time. Whether it’s buying you more suits, because you guys basically have the same style, or are off doing stuff for others. Once you guys date he is so smug and your guys superiority complex combined tires out everyone. Even Diavolo is leaving the room when you two are together.

Mammon: Was absolutely disappointed when he heard he had to babysit you but when he saw you… Thought you were made of money when he first saw you. The old, EXPENSIVE, suit and the staff…there were dollar signs in his eyes. He would be sucking up to you all for that credit card. That smile did creep him out though…He’d get so greedy from just your attention. Is absolutely smitten once you two become friends. Plus, he uses that as an excuse to steal your mic and basically scream in it for hours. Once you start dating, oh god is he flustered. Like “yeah that's my rich, expensive human. Yeah they smile weirdly but it makes me weak in the knees” Is always begging for some money, if you can buy those suits you can spare a couple hundred thousand grimm right?

Levi: Was absolutely disappointed when he had to be there. He was playing games the whole time but once he saw you he was shocked. You lowkey reminded him of this rich dude that wanted to be a detective in this anime but more creepy like, you know? Would absolutely avoid you though, you’re creepy alright. That smile just sends shivers down his spine. Once you become friends he would absolutely be jealous about the size of the crowd you bring in. Why are you so charming? Would also absolutely use your mic for his gaming sessions if his broke and didn’t come within the 15 minutes he ordered it. Once you start dating he would convince you to cosplay with him. He finds some duo or couple that has similar fashion to you and he would just buy(steal) the outfit from you.

Satan: Why was he here again? Oh right he was forced to, much to his dismay. Out of all of the exchange students there(since he most likely never met Simeon, right? idk) you were the most interesting. You remind him of the one of the detectives in his books with that outfit. He tried to impress you when you two first met, can’t have you looking down on him now. I also feel like he would actually like your big smile. Once you two are friends he steals your mic to go and prank Lucifer. 9/10 times he also stole a piece from your wardrobe. When you guys are dating people also steer clear of you two. Since you’re always attached at the hip, nobody stays near you. Scary dog energy from the both of you. He’s the “run if he starts smiling" type and you're the “run if they stop smiling” type.

Asmo: Really just wanted to see the new human exchange students. Was drawn towards you. The style, the staff, the smile, everything. Would absolutely try to charm you and when he fails it actually hurts him. Even before you guys are friends he would steal your clothes. For the “aesthetic” you know? Once you guys are friends he tries and gets your dental routine, he’s lowkey jealous about how white there are and pointy. He’s always hanging off of you and swearing you’ll protect him. When your in his room he’ll steal the mic and start “serenading” you with whatever song. When you guys date he is so in love. Never shutting up about you and Always bragging about you to his two brothers. “And they are so good looking” “We know asmo” “Their smile is amazing” “We know Asmo” “And their eyes…” “We live with them to Asmo”

Beel: What should he have for lunch today? Was staring at you the whole time they were explaining where you were and why. No thoughts behind those eyes type of look. Likes your style, also reminds him of how humans used to be which also reminds him of his sister. If he ever got crumbs on your suit he would feel so bad. “I’ll get it dry cleaned” “Beel it’s fine” “No” He would stop eating around you just to keep the suit clean. Once your friends though he does start eating but is careful. He will always hold it against himself. I’m convinced he tried to eat the mic at one point when he was tired and delirious. When you two start dating he focuses on your teeth more. He has sharp teeth too, but yours are better. Smiles when you smile and gets all giddy when he sees.

Belphie: Was in the attic being delulu again, what else is there to do? When he saw you through the door he was like “you gotta be kidding me” He likes the style, looks too much like Lucifers, although you wear it better. When he kills you he feels bad, obviously. “Can I buy you a new suit” “It’s fine Belphie” “Let me buy you a new suit” “I said it’s fine” “I’m buying you a new suit” Once you two are friends he steals your mic. Gets someone to scream to annoy Lucifer. Pulls so many pranks with it that he gets banned from it. Sees that smile in his nightmares, considering that was the last thing he saw before you died. It’s unfortunate that that's your permanent face too. When you two are dating he feels a bit better about it. Would wear your clothes but they are not sleep worthy, even though he can sleep in anything. Somehow the pranks get ten times worse when you two are dating, it’s a mystery what this man does.

#x male y/n #x reader #x ftm reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x female y/n #x female reader #x male reader #obey me x mc #obey me x male reader #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #venuscrashed

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 6 months

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We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do

Yes, Hozier is my go-to artist when I write, the man knows love. As always, I love comments, I'm so f---sing bust right now, and they make me super happy despite the stress. I'm thinking there'll be another two or three chapters plus some in universe one-shots.

Part 1, part 2, part 3 part 4

Part five of The Way the Stars Love the Heavens series.

Contains: Violence, gore, death, Graves being a creep, non-sexual bathing, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Follow #the way the stars love the heavens for updates

3.5K words

In the low lamp light I was free, heaven and hell were words to me - Hozier.

He knocked on the door like it was any other day and put as much Southern gentleman into his tone as he could. "Hello, little mouse, it looks like I've finally found your hiding spot."

Moving the steal table hurt with your injured arm, but even through the throbbing, you were grateful you could hide behind it. All Graves had to do was open the door, and he'd get a face full of shrapnel, and you'd be safe behind half an inch of steel.

He knocked again, and you could hear the fake smile as he spoke. "Just open the door darlin', I'm not going to hurt you."

You believed that, he needed you alive and well to get out, but there was no way you would let him get his hands on you without a fight. "Fuck off. Fuck off, you traitorous piece of shit."

He sighed, big and dramatic, like your refusal hurt him. "Come on now, don't be like that." Something nasty crept into his voice, and it made your skin crawl. "Open the door now, and maybe I'll let you live once we walk out of here."

Your reply was the same. "Fuck you."

His fist slamming into the door made you jump, and it felt like there was a clawed hand digging into your back as the last of your adrenal supplies were dumped into your blood.

"I'm gonna make you regret that."

****

Ghost used the darkness like a shield as he stalked through the base. Graves' men didn't die easy, but between the rest of the squad at the gates and air support, they were dying fast. His hands were sticky with blood, having favoured his knife over his gun so he could stay silent.

He crouched by a humvee and waited for a Shadow on his way to the gate to walk by, and the second he was in cutting distance, Ghost lunged out, took him in a chokehold, then slit his throat. It was a precise movement, he drove the blade into his flesh and then pulled it across, a spray of blood going outwards while the rest poured into his dissected trachea.

He moved on without a thought, taking cover and waiting for another round of tank fire before taking out the two guards at the dorm's entrance. There were almost no Shadows around now, he'd be able to drop those with his gun. It happened fast, one after the other, his amour piercing round making quick work of their vests and the flesh beneath.

His radio crackled, and Soap's voice filled his ears. "Alright, brother, I'm in the service tunnels. You better let your girl know so I don't get my ass blown off when I come to give you back up."

Ghost chuckled and keyed his radio to your signal, hoping with every bit of him that you'd pick up. "Johnny's on his way in love, you hold tight." He knew someone would get to you, Soap would give his life just like he would have, but he was hoping he'd be the one to kill Graves. He rushed to the door and then waited for your reply, knowing that more Shadows would be waiting in the hallway for him when he burst in.

"Tell me to use the north door, it's the only without something nasty across it." There was a pause as he heard a shout. "Fuck you pig, you can ram into it all you like, it won't fucking open."

He swallowed his fear as the sound of someone bashing the closet door came over the line but he had bigger things to worry about. "You've got a good head on your shoulders. I'll let him know."

He did just that, Soap giving a hearty laugh as his gun went off, then Ghost changed his magazine and breached the door. With Soap watching his six, he'd be by your side in no time.

****

Price smiled as the last tank went down and the choppers landed, now it was just a matter of picking off the rest of the Shadows as they cleared the base. He waved Gaz down, his face coated in blood and his chest heaving as he stood beside his captain. "Can you reach y/n?" Gaz nodded. "Good, let her know that the base is back under control."

Gaz smiled. "With pleasure Cap."

****

Despite the indescribably horrible feeling growing in your chest, knowing that the end was finally close gave you the motivation you needed to give Graves that last push. "I don't know if you heard that, but you're done, the 141 are back through the gates and all your tanks are dead."

"Yeah, well this is your last chance to open the door or you will be too." He sounded so angry that it made your bones shake but the false charm was back as you heard him start to rattle the handle, he must have gotten it through his head that he couldn't break it down. "You know y/n, I've seen your personal file, you're a very pretty woman."

The threat was clear but you knew you had him when you heard the bullet zing off the lock. "Haven't you worked it out yet? I'm sitting in a pharmacy, that door won't move unless you have the key."

He chuckled and removed something from his vest before sticking it in the keyhole. "Well darlin, I might not have the key but I've got something just as good." He grinned wide as the lock pick gun did its work and the click filled his ears but his smile vanished fast when he looked down.

"FUCK."

You pressed your hands to your ears as the grenade went off. The whole room shaking as dents appeared in the table. It felt like hours, but Graves' voice was back, and if you thought he was pissed before, you were sorely mistaken. "You fucking bitch. I'm going to fucking kill you slow for that."

You didn't have the chance to run, Graves was in the room, making his way to your hiding place with murder in his eyes. Half his face was covered in blood, he must have had time to duck behind the door frame before the explosion went off.

He ripped the table away from you and grabbed a fist full of hair in one hand and your injured arm in the other, his glove pressing the ripped shirt into the wound so hard you sore you could feel the texture of the fabric. The pain made your vision darken as he dragged you out of the room and into the hallway, yelling threats and obscenities all the while.

You tried to twist out of his grip, but all you succeeded in was getting a swift kick to the ribs, and then you saw it, a large flash of black coming up the hallway. Graves must have felt you relax before he followed your eyeline, then went stiff.

It was Ghost, marching his way toward you with his gun raised. "Oh shi.."

Graves didn't have time to drop you and lift his gun, and you had lost the ability to flinch as two shots rang out, and Graves' body dropped down next to you. Your ears were still ringing as you watched blood pour from the fist-sized wound on his head, and despite the pain radiating down your arm, you used both hands to push yourself away from the spreading gore.

You didn't get far because Ghost was already at your side, bending down and wrapping one of his massive arms around your body to lift you to your feet and away from the mess. He pressed his finger to his headset as he went. "Graves is KIA. Y/n is safe."

It didn't feel like it was real until you got another look at the body and then it all hit you. You were covered head to toe in blood, you were pretty sure there was brain matter in your hair, and then you suddenly couldn't breathe.

You barely registered the two hands on your face as Ghost shielded you from the scene. "Love, love, look at me."

It was like you couldn't hear him, but his eyes still came into view. "This blood isn't mine." You weren't too sure of that, every muscle in your body started aching all at once.

He removed one hand from your face and ripped off his radio and then his balaclava, and you came face to face with him, his expression filled with worry. He was there, but the edges of your vision were greying as your lungs refused to work and your legs began to tingle. "I need to sit down."

You instinctively reached behind you to grab a wall that wasn't there, and Simon supported your weight as your legs gave out. The voice that came into your ears was much firmer this time. "Y/n, you're going to shock and if you don't listen to me you're going to pass out and I don't want that." He took your hand in his and placed it on his chest before taking a deep breath. "Like this love, you're going great."

It was hard, the more you breathed, the more the smell of blood and torn flesh washed over you. You managed to swallow down the bile and stand up on shaky legs, holding onto Simon all the way up, your hands still shaking so hard that you couldn't even move them. "I need a shower."

He chuckled and waved towards your bleeding arm. "You gotta see the doc first."

You wanted to protest but the look on his face told you not to, and before you could agree, Soap came around the corner. "Nice to see you in once piece y/n. Nice work on Peters by the way." His only acknowledgement that Simon was without his skull mask was a nod and a smile before he shook his head. "Laswell was able to recover the whole two hours of camera footage, you won't need to give a statement until the morning."

You blinked and reached up to touch your face before Simon stopped you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his thumb trying and failing to soothe the shaking away. "It's only been two hours?"

Simon gave you a soft smile. "Two hours can feel like a long time when you feel like you're going to die."

He placed a warm hand on your back and smiled to his friend. "I'm gonna head to the med bay, you right to debrief everyone?"

Soap nodded. "Hell yeah Lt."

****

"You are very very lucky that I can put this together with glue, stitching it would have been a bitch." You did your best not to flinch as the medic cleaned the wound. And the expression on Simon's face told you that it was as nasty looking as you thought it was.

Simon took your hand and ran his thumb over your fingers, sensing your frustration at their continued shaking. To make matters worse, your legs had started twitching the moment you climbed onto the bed, and he took his other hand and placed it on your knee. "It's just the adrenal love, it will stop soon enough."

You blinked back tears, if someone had paid you, you wouldn't be able to describe your current emotional state. "I really just want to have a shower."

The doc cleared your throat and pointed over to the medicine cabinet. "I'll cover this in a waterproof bandage and then give you some of our good painkillers so you can sleep. I'd ask you to come back here to spend the night before you take them but I don't think I need to worry about you not having someone watching over you."

Simon smiled softly. "Her room's next to mine, you got nothing to worry about."

****

Simon had been kind enough to walk you to the showers, his face still awash with concern as you got everything out of your locker so you could finally get clean but it was clear when you lifted your still shaking hands to your buttons that you'd need help. You went to apologise but he shook his head and placed his hands over yours. "It's nothing love, you don't need to be sorry." He paused and let out a chuckle. "Did I tell you about the time that Soap strained his back and I had to do this for him?"

You shook your head and he smiled. "You're going to have to wash my hair too."

He looked over the strands, and a slight sadness filled his face. "I'm not going to lie to you, love, this is not how I pictured getting to do that."

That painful quiet was back and the realisation that you were about to be naked in front of him hit you like a train. Simon, always the observant one, seemed to pick up on your hesitation because he took your chin between his fingers and met your eye. "You tell me if you're not comfortable with anything, yeah?"

You nodded. "Of course."

As he removed your clothes, his eyes never drifted, no matter how much skin was revealed. He followed his hands as each article fell to the floor rather than your bare body and before you knew it, he was pushing you into the shower.

He was stripped down to his shirt and pants, free of his vest and weapons, without a care in the world that was fully clothed and soaking wet. He washed your body with immense care and a gentleness you didn't think a man his size was capable of. When it came time for your hair, he waved to the pile of products in the corner and smiled sheepishly. You're gonna have to give me some pointers, love, I don't have a fucking clue what I'm going."

You giggled and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's easy, don't worry."

He treated every stand like it was made of something terribly precious, washing the sticky chunks of blood and brain down the drain while carefully removing the knots from Graves' earlier treatment. When it came time to shampoo, his fingers rubbed the sting from your scalp as the scent of it filled the steamy air.

You fought the urge to rest your back against his chest as his fingers combed in the conditioner, he spun you around to face him. "You need me to do anything else while we wait." You shook your head and took a deep breath as more silence filled the room and a sudden wave of emotion hit you but before you could act on them and kiss him, he stopped you with a gentle hand on your face. "Not like this lovely, I'm gonna feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

The look on his face told you all you needed to know and you pressed your head against his chest for a moment, uncaring about his shirt. "Thank you."

His hand stroked your hair and he chuckled. "Come on lovely, before we both turn to prunes." He washed the conditioner from your hair then placed a hand on your bare back as you walked from the cubical. He helped you dry off, dressed you in your most comfy PJs and finished your hair before depositing you on the bench so he could have a quick shower. When he came out, he was already dressed in his boxers and you averted your eyes as he threw on a pair of sweats.

Helped you up and pulled you into his arms, his bare chest warm against you. "You feeling any better?"

You nodded. "Much."

His hand stayed on your lower back the whole time as he walked you to your room. Your hand paused on the handle and you turned towards him. "Can you stay with me tonight, please?"

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. "You heard the doc, I was planning on it." He pushed open the door as you turned the handle and he led you to the bed.

You thought the shakes and termors had faded, but as the quiet of your dorm room pushed at your senses, they were back, and you huffed in frustration and clenched your hands, hoping they would stop. "What the fuck is wrong with me, I should be over this by now."

Simon filled your glass from the water pitcher on the table, then handed you the small plastic medicine cup of pills before sitting down next to you and placing a hand on your jumping knee. "Take those and we'll talk while they work." There was no way you were going to argue, every part of you hurt and you longed for the rest that would come when the chemicals hit your brain.

He took the empty glass from you and threw the used medicine cup in the trash before taking you in his arms and lying down, the pressure of his body on yours easing some of the twitch in your body. "Now why do you think you should be over this by now?" He tried to keep the displeasure at your lack of self-compassion out of his tone, but he didn't do too well.

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to wave him off as his hand started to run your back soothingly. "Because, you guys do shit like this everyday and I don't see you shaking like a leaf."

"We're trained for this, and trust me love, we all shake like this the first few times." He could remember how it felt to kill for the first time, his first firefight where he was sure he was going to die. He knew exactly how you were feeling.

You took a deep breath as you continued. "I killed two people tonight. The guy I stabbed and I heard over their radios that the Shadow that caught the door blast didn't make it. That wasn't spur of the moment, I could have chosen non-lethal methods. I made the choice to try and kill Graves. Logically I know I had to do it but still, there's something wrong because I don't know how to feel about that either."

The warmth of Simon's chest made it easy to talk, and his gentle responses eased the worry from your mind, but his was a stirring mess. He knew what he was, he was proud of himself and what he had done with his life, but his reiteration of how your feelings were normal echoed back something else for him, that he wasn't the normal one, that there was nothing wrong with you, but there was something wrong with him.

And yet, the way you pressed yourself to his chest in low lamp light chased all those feelings away because someone as wonderful as you wouldn't love him if there was something truly wrong with him. And that was just it, despite the fact that you had never said it to each other, you did love him and he loved you. Nothing else mattered, not the blood on his hands or the shake in yours.

He felt your warm hand on his cheek and he looked down at your face, your eyes staring into his with blatant affection. "What are you thinking about?"

The rush of blood in his ear was like a swarm of hornets, and their flicking wings overwhelmed his senses as he mirrored your hand and placed his on your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he leaned in. His lips brushed yours, and your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you. He pulled back after bumping your nose with his and took a deep breath. "I love you y/n."

You kissed him again, your hand moving behind his head to hold his lips to yours. You pulled away enough to speak, his breath beating against your skin as you returned his proclamation. "I love you too Simon."

Sleep came easy that night, for both of you.

Part 6

@chaos-4baby

#simon riley/you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley/reader #the way the stars love the heavens #call of duty

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 8 months

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Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 3: To My Knees

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Content warnings: Usual COD content (violence, torture, death, guns ESPECIALLY in this chapter), mutual pining, back from the dead, friends to allies to lovers, Reader is GN, some use of Y/N.

Chapter 2 // Masterlist // AO3 Version // Chapter 4

Gaz and Bronze were stretching out this first glass, just hitting the two hour mark, but the conversation cover had yet to run dry. Occasionally, there would be input from another of your team, waiting in shadows and around corners, easing the tension ever so slightly with their addition to the chatter as well as providing repeated remarks on how their target was not yet in sight.

You stared at the map in front of you, brows bent as if you didn’t have it half memorised, as if there hadn’t been any passersby in this alleyway for ten minutes. Earpiece wired through your clothing allowed you to listen into the conversation you had yet to join.

One you’d considered remarking on was Gaz and Bronze joking about:

“Price told me he and Laswell met at a falafel stand.”

“And did they?”

“No. She annoyed him during a football match.”

That sounded more plausible at least. Price’s long-time partner was a neglected Liverpool season ticket. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel to a familiar footie chant you had learned to chant during your first match. But you didn’t add anything. Nor did you say anything when Gaz insisted he was a catch and too good for Bronze when Crash joked about them being on a date.

You did when Soap talked about how he’d been guided through Las Almas in a mission gone south by Ghost, a bullet in his arm and delirious on adrenaline enough to exchange dumb jokes. After hearing his shellfish joke, you decided to join in with easing the tension that was creeping in through your neck.

“Two windmills are standing on a wind farm. One asks, ‘what’s your favourite type of music?’ and the other replies ‘I’m a big metal fan’.”

The radio crackled with Soap’s low chuckles, “Pretty good, Captain.”

“I wouldn’t say good,” interrupted Chance.

“What’s good then?”

“What’s red and bad for your teeth?” You could already hear giggling down the radio before Chance jumped in to ensure she delivered the punchline: “A brick.”

“Tha’s awful, actually,” Soap said but with a dark snigger. Then he cut himself off sharpish: “Markovič on the south side of the street, heading towards Los Gatos.”

Your back straightened, “Alone?”

“Affirmative.”

This did nothing to confirm for you whether Markovič either had back-up you couldn’t see, or he was beyond stupid – both dangerous in any man, let alone an arm’s dealer, let alone the glorified sidekick of a terrorist. Your hands flexed then tightened around the wheel, then one held the ignition key, waiting for your signal.

“He’s at the bar,” Gaz reported. A minute later, he added: “He’s a gin man.”

You mirrored his attempts to keep things a little light, “Do they have Gordon’s out here?”

“It’s not the pink one, that’s for sure,” Gaz mumbled, and you could hear its echo in a half empty pint glass he was likely pretending to drink from, “You a gin fan yourself, Captain?”

“Not a big drinker at all.”

“What’s your vice then?”

“Sudoku.”

You’d let them debate whether or not you were serious later; Team Banshee would probably offer a few pieces of evidence to fill the gaps in the 141’s knowledge of you. But here was where your banter ended for now.

“He’s moving to sit alone, outside.”

You could picture him sipping a ballooned glass with ice swilling around, condensation as slippery as his character. The metal of the key warmed in your pinch, map discarded in your lap. Simulating every possible approach to any choice, your brain narrowed down Gaz and Bronze either heading inside for an attack in the bathroom, or directing Ghost, Chance, Price, and Crash to tail Markovič and intercept before he got home.

Your two soldiers continued their cover, ordering some tapas to split and doing their best not to flaunt how good it was to the rest of you. Gaz mentioned how he’d already paid the bill, and filled out the reimbursement forms too apparently. Just left the boxes of the amount blank, ready to be completed upon return. Both Gaz and Bronze dropped titbits of info on Markovič every minute, Soap too from his ledge.

At last, halfway through the third glass of gin, Gaz muttered down his microphone, “He’s headed for the bathroom. We’re on him.”

You twisted the ignition and the engine roared to life, “Meet you at the corner of Liepų and Lajos Street?”

“Can do, Cap,” Bronze said and you heard the scrape of his chair before he stopped talking.

The gear stick shifted, you drove out of the alleyway and took the two minute drive to your location. The mileometer kept your speed safe enough to not be pulled over by any rent-a-cop that might spot you, but quick enough to be with your team. Two back doors were flung open within the second you stopped, Gaz and Bronze hauling their prisoner up then tossing him in with a bag over his head and hands zip-tied. In your rear view mirror, Markovič’s body folded like a sheet of paper without Gaz or Bronze for support.

You heard two bangs after the door slams, so you moved out, ready to collect the rest of your team. Crash and Ghost were from the same corner about a quarter of a mile out. Chance and Price were close enough to the safehouse to have made it back just as you pulled into the garage. No one felt daft for over-estimating the amount of manpower on this mission. This was, after all, just the first step in the right direction.

You helped haul the dead weight of your prisoner up the stairs in the absence of your regular workout.

A chair stood proudly in the centre of the one room without windows, the one you’d soundproofed that morning with your team. Even just stepping into the room felt like there was cotton wool against your ears. Tarps muted all footsteps. Hanging from the door frame was a black makeshift curtain blocking your captive from seeing anything outside the room.You took it upon yourself to search him whilst Gaz and Ghost bound his wrists and ankles to the chair’s metal frame: a wallet with just two cards, a stack of cash, and a few coins; a packet of tissues; a dog tag without a chain stamped with Odristanian; and an acorn.

Gaz and Ghost led the way out, you taking one more survey of the room before you followed satisfied and with the door shut behind you.

“He was carrying this in his waistband, tried to pull it out on us when we put him in a headlock.” Bronze held a tiny handgun up like it was a pair of dirty underwear. You took it, though he’d already had the frame of mind to empty the chamber and remove the clip.

“Good job, Gaz, Bronze,” You said first, before you could forget to praise your team. “Chance, you’re the lead on this. Ghost, I want you in there with Chance ready to sub in if she wants to take a break. No one else goes in unless Markovič’s somehow a master of withholding information; I don’t want him getting any ideas about how many of us there are or where he is through the door.”

Both nodded, happy with their positions. However-

“He’s got no idea where he is,” Bronze interjected, “He walked right past the toilet to take a piss in the alleyway out back. He’s hardly gonna figure out anything through a gap in the curtain.”

You stared at him, expression once again carefully neutral, and Bronze’s eyes widening told you he knew he’d been caught with his trousers down – in front of his entire team no less. Muting your frustration for now was the best approach, even though you shouldn’t have to tell this fully grown man about taking precautions in the possibility of this being a trap. Instead, you continued delegating your team for the night ahead.

“Still, we’ll approach with standard caution. Crash, Gaz, you’re on watch: one in the sitting room, one from the roof. Make sure no one’s tailed us. Soap, Price, I want you observing from here, and you can feed any info you think helpful to them via their earpieces. Bronze, you’re with me. We’ll swap around in shifts when times comes to sleeping and watch, but again, we keep Ghost and Chance on Markovič.”

Bronze trailed behind you as you entered the sitting room, where all the packs were (yours included). Following the cable you’d plugged in that morning, you found and began fiddling with your tablet to get it live and onto the webcam that Gaz had installed amongst the padding on the walls. Price and Soap already had theirs set up whilst you were patting down your prisoner.

“I was part of a capture or kill mission about fifteen years ago,” You mused aloud, knowing Bronze was paying attention.“Capture was easy, and folks got cocky. Turns out it was a catch and release. Our target’s army was on our location within the first minute of interrogation. Killed half of us, wounded the rest. Botched everything beyond belief, set some of us back a year in terms of recovery and intel, and we were considered the lucky ones.” Then you rose to your feet and made carefully practiced eye contact with your Sergeant, “You understand why I’m telling you this?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Don’t make me tell you again, and certainly not in front of others.” You held out the tablet to him with the grainy footage displaying Ghost entering the room, Chance settling in, “Every behaviour is communication. Figure out what’s being said. You’ve got the rest of the hour then you swap with Crash.”

Into the dining room, sat around the table like some fucked-up family dinner. Soap was checking his sniper rifle, Price smoking, Bronze without any distraction to aid his redemption from earlier. So you set yourself apart to make the MREs up, an eye on the spare tablet streaming the torture live.

After receiving silence as the answer to her first question, Chance started by plucking out Markovič’s nose hairs, Ghost holding his head still whilst Markovič attempted to wriggle away from her tweezers. Then she moved onto something more interesting. Technically you were to thank for that technique, for suggesting a viewing of Paddington to boost team morale and bonding after a particularly shitty close to a mission in 2020. You just hadn’t realised she’d been taking notes during the screening.

As you heated up the chilli, you felt Price’s shadow blot out some of the sting of the stove’s flame. His cigar left smoking in a gaudy ashtray, clearly bought from a tourist boutique nearby.

“I can help,” He said.

You snorted, “Two Captains making tea for their teams, now that’s a laugh.” But you still shoved over the mess tins – clean from when Crash had scrubbed them clean earlier.

“It’s our jobs to make sure we all stay on our feet. You included,” Price said as he unstacked them, handing you the one with a little bar of soap drawn on the underside in permanent marker.

“Which is why I’m making the dinner.”

“You know I meant you resting, not you staying on your feet.”

“Had plenty of rest in the driver’s seat,” and you dolloped the chilli into the tin.

You four ate in relative silence, apart from Bronze beside you who was noting down the reactions on your tablet’s post-it notes app, responses that Ghost and Chance were certainly logging in their own heads. That was his punishment technically: becoming your secretary for the paperwork you’d fill out at the end of the mission. He fucking hated it but he did it because you told him to, and he never needed to be told twice.

Some of Markovič’s methods of resisting were more akin to mindfulness practices: the deep breathing, the eyes closed, the rocking (limited against his restraints). He started to crumble at the twenty minute mark, letting slip Čiernik’s plan to relocate for the

“That’s new,” Bronze remarked when Chance began digging the tweezers into the wound on his stomach she’d sliced open with the accuracy of a surgeon. Markovič in response had let out a wheeze and told them that he’d give them the location.

“Crash, Bronze is on his way up to swap,” You called down your radio. No response, which was unlike her. Regardless, Bronze was already heading up, your tablet back in hand.

Chance sipped from her water bottle in the top left corner of your screen, behind Ghost whilst she watched what he was like in the interrogation room. Two words: viciously unempathetic.

“Why did the man miss the funeral?” Soap asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

You sighed, unable to figure it out, “Dunno, why?”

“He wasn’t a mourning person.”

Your mouth twisted into a half-smile that was trying to take itself seriously, “That’s pretty good.”

“Can’t take credit for that one.”

“Then send my compliments to the chef.”

“Ghost’ll be happy to hear them,” Soap snorted.

As you went to direct your smile directly at the Sergeant, you instead caught Price looking at you, though he glanced back down at his screen when you made eye contact. You didn’t like how the implication of him watching you instead of his Lieutenant sent your stomach flipping over the powdered eggs from this morning.

To cover your ruffled feathers, you went into the hallway to smooth them out and collided chest to chest with Crash.

“Sorry, Captain, didn’t hear you,” She explained quickly, catching her breath

“Your radio faulty?”

Crash paused before replying, “I was in another channel.”

Your frown was automatic, “Why?”

Another pause. “Listening to Chance and Ghost in the interrogation.”

“That’s not what I asked you to do.” Your weighted statement shrank Crash in front of you like a cotton shirt in the tumble dryer.

“Sorry.”

“Do better.” Somehow you managed to restrain your additional comment until after she’d left and into a whisper: “Fuck’s sake.”

It was embarrassing, your team showing you up with rookie missteps and trivial unprofessionalism. Now of all the times and places they could choose to be stupid.

Soap offered to swap out with Gaz, let him rest a little, and you agreed to it.

“We’ll start sleep shifts in a few,” You added, then repeated once Gaz was in the room again. He inhaled his MRE, despite being the one to order a bowl of nuts to pick through during the capture earlier.

When Chance exited her torture chambers, you held up her MRE – still sealed in its packet. She nodded and you began to make it as you asked:

“How do you think it’s going?”

Yes, you had been watching and paying attention to your screen, but it wasn’t the same as being in the room. The blurry pixels could only offer so much.

Chance sighed, stretching out her shoulders, “He’s gobby, in the worst way. But he’ll break soon. Just wanted him to remember what relief feels like.”

To be fair to him, Markovič had lasted longer than you thought. Perhaps you should start drinking gin.

“Anything you fancy?” You asked her.

Shrugging, Chance suggested with a wry expression, “Stick and poke?”

You mulled it over, tongue poking in your cheek. Then you gave her a nod of confirmation, your nose wrinkled, as if she was asking if you wanted another pint because it was her round. Stretching out your spine as she returned to her post, you returned to your screen and watched the basis of Chance’s failed tattoo artist dream reworked to suit her current occupation.

Each time Markovič passed out from the pain, Ghost used smelling salts to bring him back to continue a malicious cycle of Chance stabbing him in the same places with a heated needle.

It culminated in the reveal of a piece of intel that struck your partnership. You could see Soap’s fists wringing an invisible neck. Ghost squared his shoulders as he corked the smelling salts. Even Price’s jaw clenched at the mention of a name you’d come across in their files. Markovič begged with his two captors, desperately clawing at the chair and asserting with his remaining energythat it was the truth.Chance continued poking inside his dermis for ten minutes more – just to be certain. Plus you were certain she had read her fellow Lieutenant’s body language and how he wasn’t quite content with leaving the room this way – and he landed a solid punch on the back of Markovič’s head that sent him into unconsciousness and his chair tilting over. Your prisoner looked peaceful for the first time since you'd captured him, folded over and praying in his own putrid blood.

Both the Lieutenants finally left the torture chamber and both their Captains met them outside the door. Chance had very little to add to what she’d already reported. But Ghost shoved his demand right there and then.

“He can’t tell them we’re coming,” He said, his words as harsh as if he’d spat at you.

You nodded in agreement, “I’ll take care of it.”

But Ghost shook his head with the same ire, “S’alright, I’ll do it. Not hungry anyways.”

“Ok,” You said, maintaining the calm to balance his fury, “Good job. You too, Chance.”

“I’ll contact Laswell,” Price stated, the chair legs screeching on the wooden floor as he rose to stand.

“Patch in General Fernandez too; I need a word with him. Ta,” you added the last word quickly as he started to leave. While you stopped yourself looking at his hips, you didn’t quite manage to wrangle the memory of how you’d wrapped your legs around them for a piggy back after a successful football match as rookies, and sometimes imagined if you were on his front instead of his back, arms still around his neck, holding him close, just as eager, just as delighted to be with him.

“Fuck’s sake,” you muttered again, pinching the bridge of your nose. You were worse than Bronze with the unprofessionalism at this point, letting it spill out of your head into your actions. If you were alone, you’d slap yourself. Hard. Get your head screwed on right and tight.

Onscreen, Ghost was clipping open the zip-ties from Markovič, who collapsed onto the tarps, the KA-BAR in his neck hardly leaking despite the angle. He left it in there to recover in the morning, once livor mortis was well and truly underway.

Summoning your façade back into position, you moved to the side room for a little privacy, ready to talk to the equivalent of your line manager. “Laswell, patching in Komodo” was the last you heard as you switched to the appropriate channel.

“This is Komodo Actual,” General Fernandez spoke clear as a whistle down your earpiece, “Nice to hear from you at last, Captain.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, “Sir,Markovič has given us the details of Čiernik’s next move and one of his storage facilities he frequently uses; Laswell’s verifying the kinks of what we can do about it.”

“Good work. Any damage on your side?”

“Not yet, standby for that. Markovič also gave us intel involving Gold Eagle.”

There was a pause, and you could only assume that your very thorough General was sweeping his room once more to assure absolute secrecy before he asked: “What’s the intel?”

“We’ve stumbled upon another of his pet projects. Čiernik is on his payroll.”

-----------

AN: Thanks for the patience, I've started a new job and it's taking a lot of my time. I appreciate the love I've been getting on this. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea so it makes it all the nicer when it finds folks who like it <3

Next chapter, things start amping up, and some hints/teasers become answers so rewards for those who've been paying attention and those who are along for the ride!

Taglist: @mockerycrow

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price fanfic #captain price x reader #captain john price fanfic #cod #cod fanfic #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #cod x reader #my writing #r: gen #wc: >2k

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parmmykitty · 4 months

Text

Just so yall know our man isn't gonna have that much change in the end. He's still going to be regular Wesker, but with a s/o that he celebrates Christmas with. The ghosts are good but they ain't miracle workers.

The R.P.D. Christmas Carol pt.2

Scrooge!Wesker x Secretary!Reader

The Birkins were dead to begin with. Dead as a doornail. A freak accident in Nest leaving the couple decomposing six feet under and Sherry to live with her grandparents. With the death of his partners that had helped create the T-virus with him; Wesker was forced to finish the project on his own in his spare time.

Wesker's drive back to his house couldn't be described as interesting. Not even the radio was playing anything with their constant Christmas music that it seemed every station played. The quiet didn't bother Wesker in the slightest and even allowed his migraine to abate the slightest bit. Truly, all he wanted to do was go home to have this dreadful day over with.

The thought that his own secretary who was usually in tuned with his mood had chosen to worsen his day weighed on his mind. The two had been friends since his time in the Army. Their friendship being the driving force of their employment as his secretary.

Pulling into his driveway and turning off the engine Wesker got out of the car. The cold winter air which often felt uninviting to him on a good day had a cruel feel to it. Feeling as if it hoped he would succumb to the cold before he made it into his home. His front stairs were covered in snow and ice making a small hazard.

As he reached the top of his stairs and reached to put his key into the lock the wood grains on the door twisted and turned into the vague image of a face. When he reached his hand forward to feel the grains against his fingers the face came to life and lurched at him, "WESKER!" Immediately he pulled his hand back and took a step back. His foot connected with nothing and his whole body fell backwards. In panick he grabbed the handrail to stop his fall.

Calming he steadied himself back on the stairs. He then wearily continued to open his door and quickly went inside.

To say Wesker wasn't startled by the odd occurrence at his front door would be a lie. The sheer shock of a strange apparition coming out of his door making his heart race. The sream that came from his door was loud enough to be heard for miles, but not a soul came out to investigate. He chose then to assume the stress of his long days at work were to blame and put the whole ordeal behind him.

Entering his home and taking off his coat at the front door revealed a chill to the air in the room. The room was pitch back as usual with the heat on low. The uncomfortable feeling followed him as he went to relax upstairs in the living room. Settling down Wesker got comfortable in front of his fireplace with a research report he had to read before he went to bed for the night.

Suddenly the fire went out in one fell sweep and the few lights he had bothered to turn on gave a pop and faded out. A faint strange sound came from down the stairs with what sounded to be groaning. Wesker stood up as fast as he could and reached for the gun which had rested in his holster. The groaning grew closer along with the other sound which seemed to be heavy chains dragging across the hardwood. A eerie light grew with the increasing proximity of the sounds revealing that whatever the sounds are coming from was coming right towards him. Over the railings to the staircase arose the ghostly form of a person that appeared to be wrapped in the heavy chains.

"Well if it isn't Albert, my old friend," the ghost groaned out the best it could.

"Who are you?" Wesker said firmly before aiming his gun.

"Forgotten me already have you? Though, I guess you haven't expected to see your old research partner ever again."

The ghost hovered up the stairs without touching the ground. "Are you supposed to be Birkin?" Wesker asked.

"Of course."

"And what are you doing here in my house instead of your home with your neighbors, the Worms?" Wesker lowered his gun; still wary but not feeling inherently threatened.

The ghost let out a pathetic laugh before becoming serious, "To warn you, Albert. To warn you away from my own fate."

"And what, pray tell, are you to warn me about, Birkin?"

The doubt in Wesker's voice seemed to anger the ghost, "To warn you about the chains that await you in death!" The ghost lifted its arm revealing more chains than when it first appeared. "These chains that I forged through my evil actions in life! The same chains that are a mere fraction of the ones you have accrued through your own actions!"

The chains around the ghost dragged across the floor as he approached Wesker. The weight of them forming slight scratches on the polished floor.

"And why should I believe you. I doubt you're even real. You could be a hallucination from overworking or even some food poisoning I could have gotten. Yes, there's more gravy than a grave about you, old friend."

The ghost laughed wholeheartedly once again, "You always chose the strangest times to make puns; however, if you don't heed my warning you will become even worse than me. I died before my chains could grow longer, but you, Albert, have all the time you can spare to grow yours. From how you've treated test subjects to causing pain to those around you." The chains around him grew and grew drawing the ghost to the ground under the pressure. "Your own chains are eager to meet you!" Quickly chains emerged from Birkin's own and wrapped around Wesker. The chains forced him to fall to a knee and they pulled him down. Birkin was no better as he could barely be seen other than his face with the cluster of chains around him. "These are only the chains you have forged so far! The only way to escape them is to change!"

Another noise came from below the staircase and Birkin was pulled across the ground. He clawed at the floor and he continued to speak, "Expect the first ghost at one o'clock, Albert! Except their help! Or face the forges in hell!" The shackles and chains around Wesker got pulled away with Birkin and slowly the two were pulled out of his sight.

The fireplace flickered back to life along with the lightbulbs. The soft light that now resonated in the room brought a type of peace from the ghost that had just plagued him. He slowed got back to his feet and leaned against his chair.

"I must be hallucinating. It's impossible for Birkin to have been here. He's dead and has been for years."

Wesker chose to go to bed then in hopes of recovering his sanity. The happenings of the day weighing on him. No ghosts would be coming to his home tonight, nor would he talk to another one.

~~~~~~

@aoi-targaryen (if anyone else wants tagged lmk)

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #wesker x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months

Note

Hello! I just wanna say your writing is amazing, and I absolutely adore your tmc stories and writing overall it's so good!!!! I was wondering if I could get a continuation of the Adam x gn reader where they found him alongside Thatcher (maybe they drive him to somewhere safe like an inn/motel and care for him. Whether it be cuddling, reassurance, allowing him to vent. Bcuz they just don't mind him being an alternate. Regardless of what he is they care for him and want the best.) I need my boy to feel okay :(

Aw thanks! I'm surprised ya'll wanted continuations for not just one of my Adam fics, but TWO of them. It makes me happy though!

For this one, I imagine Reader finding out how truly difficult helping Adam is gonna be when he starts acting more like an Alternate, but it's a fight they refuse to give up on.

So enjoy <3

Read the first part/prequel here

..........

"Well..here we are. I told the lady we're staying several nights, but my credit card should cover it."

Opening the door to the motel room, you pocketed the key before heading inside to check things out, tossing some bags onto the table.

Adam, in the meantime, stood there awkwardly in the hallway. But after you called his name, he snapped out of his trance and entered--

Only to bump his head on the top of the doorframe and wince in pain, rubbing the spot where it hurt as he scowled at nothing specific.

After everything that's happened tonight, he forgot that his painful metamorphosis and splintering of bones made him a few inches taller...not that he considered it a plus in any way, shape, or form.

If the circumstances were different, he'd probably brag about it to everyone.

Fortunately you didn't notice his mishap, as you were making sure there weren't any TVs or mirrors in the room. Not just for your own safety, but also for Adam's sanity, too.

He couldn't stand seeing his reflection in anything; even the van's rearview mirror made him freak out when he accidentally looked at it, screeching uncontrollably and screwing up the radio's signal until you finally figured out what was wrong and covered it up.

That's the first and only time you nearly crashed the van, thank goodness.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until you found this rundown motel somewhere on the outskirts of Werksha County, deciding it's the safest place to lay low until you both figured out what to do next.

Of all things, you never expected one of your closest friends to be an Alternate--not one who recently killed him and stole his identity, but one who didn't even know what he was until this very night.

Apparently, the "Intruder" revealed that he had replaced his real counterpart at only 4 years old, his mom having been dead this entire time...and deciding that now was the time for him to 'awaken".

Though given how he was crying, screaming, and begging for death when you and Thatcher found him, it's obvious he didn't take that news very well and didn't want to be anything like them.

He lived as a human for so long..he was convinced that he is one and refused to accept his reality.

You couldn't bring yourself to hate him for something he had no control over, nor were you going to ever treat him like one of those monsters.

They were heartless and evil...and while Adam himself acted that way for the past several weeks, pushing away everyone who cared about him, you realized he regretted it deeply. Surely Alternates don't feel things like that.

Eventually you'll have to tell Sarah and Evelin the truth, and also find out where BPS goes from here.

But none of that was important right now.

Taking care of him was.

"Alright. Everything looks good...shit, even the beds look pretty decent. I'm surprised."

Blinking, Adam looked to see you plop down onto one of the beds, laying on your back. "You gotta come over here, man. I promise it's comfier than it looks."

After a bit of silence, you heard some shuffling noises and glanced at him as he limped over to the other bed. He sat down and shrugged off your BPS jacket, using it like a blanket before he curled up on the mattress, resting his head on the pillow and tucking his lanky limbs close to his chest.

In a way, he almost acted like a cat...which was kinda cute.

"Yeah I'm pretty tired, too. You need anything, Adam?" You asked.

All you got was a shake of his head in response, his eyes already closed.

'Right..we both need some sleep. I know he definitely does. We'll figure out some game plan in the morning, then..' You took off your shoes, leaving them on the floor before getting under the sheets and turning off the lamp light.

"Well..goodnight."

He mumbled something, but you assumed was also "goodnight" and eventually fell fast asleep..

Until your short-lived dream turned into a nightmare.

You found yourself standing alone in a dark void, hearing the muffled screams of your friend that sounded so close...and yet so far away. But no matter what, you couldn't find him anywhere, even as you ran and called out his name.

If anything, it felt like you were moving even further away.

Then you were halted by a figure descending from the sky--being that same mysterious angel statue you saw back in the van, except its face was covered by a black square. Its movements, however, were quite lively as it spoke to you in the same voice that claimed itself to be your "intuition".

It whispered that you could not save the "Mandela Prophet" from his destiny, even though what he did tonight was unexpected--implying that he was supposed to harm you.

But it vowed that his "disguise" will eventually shed itself..and when it does you won't be safe anymore.

You refused to believe it, instead asking what it wanted from you.

Its response?

"I want you to open your eyes"

Suddenly you woke up, heart pounding a mile a minute as you looked around the dark motel room. It took a moment to realize you were out of that horrible dream.

But then you ceased all movements as you noticed the time on the alarm clock displayed 3:33 AM in red neon....before seeing a skeletal figure sitting on the edge of your bed, uncomfortably close.

It stared down at you with white pupils rolling around in its eyes, its mouth hung open--stretching to biologically impossible proportions as it spoke in whispers you couldn't decipher, despite its mouth not moving at all.

"A-Adam? That you?"

You bravely turned on the lamp light, rubbing your eyes to see that it was indeed your friend watching over you. His mouth was back in its normal place...although you did see it wide open for a split second after light filled the room before he closed it immediately.

It did give you a mini heart attack, forgetting he was capable of something like that, though you tried acting like you never saw it at all.

"S-Sorry..I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, clearing his throat. "I...couldn't sleep. Fuck, how can I?"

"It's alright. I don't think I can either." Sighing, you sat up and smiled reassuringly at him. "We've been through a lot of shit tonight, and-"

"You need to kill me."

Your smile faded as you stared at him, confused when he shoved one of his pillows against your torso. It had stuffing torn out of it, the case covered in blood and saliva.

"What the--?!" You blinked, looking down in horror. "Adam, is this your bl-?!!"

"I tried it and it didn't fucking work...s-so I need you to do it for me. Please." He begged. "I've tried everything else!!"

'Is he...asking me to smother him..? Was he...actually screaming earlier?' Your heart sunk into your stomach at the realization he tried killing himself while you were sleeping, but you shook your head.

"Adam we're not having this conversation again. I can't do that to you, okay? It's not going to work, and even if it did...I just...I can't. If you think I'm okay with straight-up murdering you-"

"Just do it, [y/n]...I-I don't care how long it takes. I don't want to be your burden anymore. I just...I want this to END!!!" He panicked, growing frustrated that you weren't taking the pillow as he now kneeled in front of you, hands trembling. "I'm one of those sick fucks that took your family away! So get revenge! KILL ME!!!"

"But you're not." Your gaze softened, resting your hands over his own. "You didn't kill them. You're my friend-"

"How can you see THIS as a friend-d-d?!!" He wailed, tearing himself away from you as coarse static began to overlay his voice. "This "friend" hurt so many people...Jonah...a-and Evelin...and it's going to hurt you too if you don't stop me!! PLEASE JUST FUCKING END MY SUFFERING-G-G!!!

You desperately tried to calm him down, afraid that someone in the neighboring rooms would hear all of his screaming and howling.

But he didn't stop.

"Shhh! Adam-! Adam, please just-!!"

"STOP IT!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!! IT WAS NEVER MY NAME!! I lied to you...I DECIEVED you, and you were too stupid to realize it.."

"...h-huh?" You froze, bewildered as his face suddenly became devoid of all emotion, staring dead at your confused expression.

"You stopped that cop from putting a bullet in my head." Tears began streaming down his bony cheeks, his jaw going slack as he spoke. "You're so selfish. You're a coward. Don't you see how horrible you are..keeping me around?! You think I can be saved?! You're only making me SUFFER, [y/n], and it's all your fault!"

You were shocked at the things he was saying to you, wondering if the last of his humanity had finally slipped away...and this is all that remained now.

"A-Adam, please stop-"

"PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He began to mimic your voice to near-perfection, hearing hysterical laughter coming from him despite his expression not matching it at all.

You could tell from his eyes alone that he wasn't in total control over himself. He wasn't doing this on purpose.

It was those Alternate instincts trying to override him, attempting to submit you to the symptoms of M.A.D.

Begging him to be quiet was no longer working. You had to try something else...something that would catch him off-guard.

And you finally figured it out.

Taking the pillow, you tossed it aside before gently pulling Adam into your arms, once again being careful not to crush any of his fragile bones. Almost immediately his laughter stopped, his whole body seizing up.

Without the jacket you've previously given him, you could feel how extremely skinny he was, his vertebrae almost poking through his flesh. But it didn't stop you from wrapping your arm around his back, petting his hair soothingly with your other hand.

"...what are you doing-g?" He asked, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "Don't touch me! I-I'm...I will....!"

"You'll what?"

"......."

From the way his entire form gradually went slack in your arms, you realized he was (somewhat) back to his old self, and smiled. "See? You're not hurting me now, and you didn't before. I still trust you, Adam."

He didn't do anything for a few long moments, but just when you were about to let him go, he suddenly hugged you back and fully buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...! I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!!"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean any of it." You consoled, allowing him to pull you closer to him. As much as he tried, he could barely crush you..considering he had little strength left. "It's okay, we're both okay."

He just shook his head, still devastated that he tried giving you M.A.D and couldn't stop himself. "Th-This is why I wanted you to leave me..b-before I say stupid shit like that and hurt you...."

"C'mon, you've said a lot of "stupid shit" over the years. It's gonna take more than that to drive me away." As you rubbed his bare back, you could feel him nuzzling into your shirt more, desperate for warmth that his own body no longer provided him.

"I-It's so cold. I'm scared, [y/n]...I'm scared of myself." He choked. "None of this feels...real."

"I know. I...can't even imagine what's been going through your head tonight. But you're still my friend, and nothing's gonna change that. Not even this, alright?"

After a few moments of silence he nodded, sniffling. "I'm sorry for putting all of this on you. But....if you have to kill me-"

"Adam."

"R-Right, right...I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again.."

"....we'll figure out something else, okay? And I'll be here for you. Just like always."

Although Adam didn't verbally respond to that, he let go of you and laid down beside you, indicating he wanted to at least attempt to sleep. You were surprised that he didn't just return to his own bed, but you weren't going to be a dick and kick him off.

So you gave him most of the sheets and blankets, knowing he needed them far more than you did. He only mumbled a small "thank you" before turning his back to you, now tucked under the blanket.

You got under the covers as well, switching off the light again, but you heard him still crying softly into the pillow and groaning in pain, clearly trying to hide it from you.

It hurts that you couldn't take away his pain.

The one thing you could do, however, was comfort him..now knowing he wasn't going to push you away like he did before. So you gently put your arm around him, closing some of the space between you two while not being too constricting.

And while he didn't stop crying right away, he eventually quieted down and fell asleep with one less worry on his mind.

You hoped it wasn't too weird--just something to reassure him that you're gonna be right here when he awakened.

It did the trick.

You weren't going to leave him.

Not anytime soon.

#clanask #anonymous #tmc x reader #mandela catalogue x reader #adam murray #adam murray x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #tw body horror #tw suicide mention

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unadulterated-syd · 1 year

Text

warnings; mentions of Stiles' mom (deceased)

synopsis; reader comforts Stiles' after what he sees at Lydia's party.

a/n; i haven't watched teen wolf in like a year and a half, so this may not be super accurate but i miss stiles and lack the time to rewatch :(

You stood beside him at the party, watching his silent freak out. His eyes were trained to someone who wasn't there, a piece of his mind haunting him whilst you stood idly besides him.

His eyes broke from whatever was bothering him and fell on you. The tears in his eyes nearly broke you in an instant. What could have possibly gone this wrong, what was he seeing that you weren't?

Teen minutes ago you were drinking and watching him from afar. You had no idea why you were at Lydia's party anymore, she'd far from ever spared you a glance. Suppose everyone was avoiding her now, she was lucky to have Stiles to put this together.

But now the origins didn't seem to matter, he needed to leave. You could see that much by just looking at him. "Did you..?" He looked at you, eyes glancing between you and the empty space in front of him.

You tilted your head, confused by his question, "Nothing's there, Stilinski. Just a bunch of drunks." He seemed to shaken up to reprocess your response. Even if you had seen whatever he'd seen, you reckon it wouldn't change a thing.

"Let me drive you home, you look like you've seen a ghost." You told him, setting your own drink down on one of the outside tables. Not like you had to clean it up anyway. "No, no... I can drive. Have fun." He began his chase to his jeep, though you followed.

You grabbed his arm after you'd finally caught up, the two of you in the driveway by now. "Stiles knock it off, I wouldn't have fun if I knew I let you go home like this. What's wrong? Talk to me." You reasoned with the teen in front of you.

It was like a switch flipped in him, you'd been there when his mom died. Every up and down you had been the one to follow after him, look after him. He felt like shit, and somewhere deep down he knew you were the only one who would understand that. The only one who hadn't learned werewolves were everywhere, now after Scott and he. You were the only one that saw his problems as worthy.

He still couldn't bring himself to tell you, he just handed over his keys and found himself in the passenger seat. You groaned at his will to stay silent but appreciated the idea of trust. He didn't want anyone with him, yet he trusted you to drive him home. Even if you were drunk.

And so you drove, the radio low and the moon high. As he looked out the window, some Katy Perry party song hung in the air. Driving past the Sheriff's office, you quickly realized Noah Stilinski wasn't there, meaning he was home. "You want to stay at mine? Your dad's home, he'll probably find us out." You offered quietly.

He seemed to freeze up at the mention of his dad but nodded, agreeing to the favorable choice; your house.

You pulled in, and parked the old Jeep, looking at Stiles again. Who knew what your next move was, he was rarely ever like this. Upset, quiet, two words you rarely associated with him. One could say he never shut-up, though it flattered him well. His nervous rambling always made you feel better.

You looked down at your hands, before letting out a breath and opening the driver's side door. "It was my dad. He told me I killed my mom. That it was my fault." He told you nervously, stopping you from going any further.

You looked at him, slowly shutting the door and you once more tilted your head. "And you believe that?" You whispered the question, scared you may shatter him if you talked any louder. "I guess. A little. He made sense when he said it, y'know."

You heard the sniff as he rubbed his nose, his eyes miraculously dry still. "He'd never say that to you, Stiles. Your brain'll be the death of you if you keep listening to it." You paused, putting a hand on his forearm, "She loved you more than anything, goofball. I just wish she were here to tell you that herself."

But, before he could continue to dwell on that fact, you cut him off. "Let's go inside. I can show you all the embarrassing photos she used to show me. " You teased, watching his face light up as he groaned at the idea.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf #stiles stilinski angst #syds page #teen wolf angst #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles stilinksi imagine

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dear-taka-chan · 2 years

Text

need a hand?

cw: no specified pronouns/gender, established relationship, fluff, mentions of blood, injuries and death, canon typical violence.

note: requested by @/fggcgsblog

𝟐𝟎:𝟒𝟗 read the time on your watch. you let out a sigh. forty-nine minutes had passed since your boyfriend told you to "wait for me. i'll be back soon." and then rushed out before you could even ask further.

you and mitsuya finally had some time off from your busy schedules so it was mutually decided that a date was much needed and that it would be a great way to spend some time together. only you were waiting in this café with no call or message from him and neither was he answering either of them.

you waited patiently at first but as the time went on your patience turned into worry. this was uncharacteristic of mitsuya. he wasn't irresponsible. and everything he did was for a reason. so there was only one thing that explained his absence and radio silence— he was in danger.

you wanted to believe that you were just overthinking and being silly over nothing. but as soon as a bruised and bloodied mitsuya came into your mind and the thought of potentially losing your boyfriend plagued your thoughts, your heart rate increased and you quickly grabbed your phone, wallet and keys and rushed outside.

�� ୨˚୧ ⋯

takashi scrunched his nose as soon as the metallic taste of blood hit his taste buds. he spit it out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

eyelids drooping and body swaying, mitsuya launched a fist towards the man in front of him only to be punched straight in his gut by him. more blood spewed out of his lips followed by a pained groan.

he was getting tired now. his body was giving up. he was aching almost everywhere and he knew it would be difficult to shower because of all the cuts and bruises painting his body in reds, blues and purples. that was; if they didn't kill him. which was highly unlikely.

guilt also ate him up when he remembered that he had broken his promise of spending some quality time with you. he had kept you waiting alone in that coffee shop full of couples. mikey called him to take care of some business but maybe even his president didn't know the extent of this "business".

"takashi!" his ears rang. did they hit him in the head hard? he was starting to hear your voice now and here of all places. it was distant and muffled though.

"takashi!" but it was getting clearer. his head pounded. yeah he definitely got a serious head injury.

"takashi!" you screamed.

"huh?" he turned around to see you running towards him.

"oh my God. i knew it, i fucking knew it! i should have come sooner. i had a gut feeling but i ignored it for so long- fuck!" you shouted at yourself. angry that you let this happen to the man most precious to you.

"what are you doing here, (name)? go back! this is dangerous" mitsuya's voice drawled. he tried to scold you to somehow make you listen to him. to get you away from this. but frankly? he had no energy.

though, in all honesty mitsuya was happy. he should have guessed it. he should have known. of course you would come! and now that you were here, he wasn't worried in the slightest.

he looked at you as you looked at him, both mirroring a smile.

"oi!" one of them shouted. "we don't have time for this lovey-dovey bullshit."

"yeah! let's kill them both!" and in typical gang fashion they started chanting "yes" which sounded like noise pollution to you than anything.

that was okay though. these low-lives weren't about to go home in one piece anyways.

"ready?" takashi asked, straightening his shoulder and warming up a little.

"more than ready." your lips turned up.

⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯

"i wanted to thank you for today." mitsuya speaks up though his eyes don't meet yours. he seems to be content staring at the cemented road below. you support his weight and wince a little with every step. you knew you weren't going to come out of it unscathed.

"unghh," his lilac hair covers his face as the wind blows. you help him sit down on the bike and takashi's face contorts in pain.

cupping his face with both your hands, you make him look at you. "you don't need to thank me, darling. your safety is my utmost priority."

takashi let's out a relieved sigh. your voice is so low and soft, just for him. it's so sweet and soothing to his ears after the loud and noisy shouts of those gang men. the pretty smile that you send his way despite the injuries that you carry, makes his heart skip a beat. you look the prettiest when you smile for him. it makes his heart flutter. the way you look into his eyes as if he is your entire world makes his eyes glossy. he stops himself from crying, gulping down the lump in his throat. sometimes he gets overwhelmed by the amount of love and care you have in store for him. he isn't used to it, having always been at the giving end; not the receiving one.

you risked your safety for him. you saved him. you were there for him when he needed help, when he needed you.

"but didn't i tell you not to get involved in gang business? this was dangerous, (name). this could have been fatal."

"and what? let you die? ever thought what would I do if something happened to you? you don't want to think. if those- those motherfu-"

"shh." he placed his index finger on your lips. you looked down at his finger and then at him, heat rushing to your face. mitsuya leans closer and now your forehead touches his. "you wouldn't do anything. you would continue to live your life normally. you wouldn't do anything to put yourself in danger or make your life miserable. it's not the end of the world. i don't want anything bad happening to you."

"but taka- hmph!"

takashi captures your lips with his and presses them against his in a needy and passionate kiss. a hand brings you closer towards his body as he deepens the kiss. "kiss me."

"a good way to shut me up." takashi lets out a chuckle.

#takashi mitsuya #mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mitsuya fluff

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humblequestvinyl · 2 years

Text

HUMBLE QUEST

HUMBLE QUEST, JJ MAYBANK X ROUTLEDGE!READER

APART OF THE HUMBLE QUEST SERIES

SUMMARY: after john b’s disappearance, and the death of her father, y/n routledge is on a humble quest trying to figure out where she went wrong, what she did to deserve this, and most of all, what the meaning behind humble was.

inspired by humble quest by maren morris

cw; the disappearance of john b & sarah, angst, swearing, slight mention of drugs and alcohol, & big john’s death! (let me know if i missed anything !!!)

lowercase is intentional! word count: 993

note: one of my fav tracks off of this album (literally my username) & i hope i did it justice. also she/her pronouns are used for the reader!!

STANDING BY THE SHORELINE, WITH THE WIND BLOWING AGAINST HER FACE,

y/n routledge could see the storm clouds coming in, darkening the entire island around her.

four days, 13 hours and 42 minutes since she last saw her brother, leaving on the boat the two practically lived on for their entire lives. it felt like an eternity since she last saw her older brother, and one of her good friends. she felt empty inside. the entire group were so caught up in getting the gold, they couldn’t see the storm that was brewing behind them.

“peaches we’ve gotta get inside.”the voice of jj maybank broke through the air, cutting the silence in half, but y/n didn’t budge, “c’mon, i’ll make you something to eat.”

it was silent between the two as jj stood next to the h/c girl, with bags under her e/c eyes. ones that hadn’t left since the day john b and sarah disappeared.

“he’s still out there.”y/n spoke up as the two started to feel raindrops on their skin, and a low rumble of thunder rang through the humid air, “i know he is and i’m not giving up until i find him and sarah.”

“they’re going to come back.”jj reassured her, before the rain started to get heavy, soaking the two, “c’mon, lets get in.”

jj guided the routledge girl towards the chateau, where they were greeted by silence, something that was unusual for the two. almost everyday for the past two years there has been some type of noise. wether that was the radio playing with some new country song, or kie and jj messing around with each other. it had never been this silent.

after guiding the girl towards the couch, jj walked into the kitchen before seeing the cabinets and fridge were completely empty, “actually, do you wanna stop by the wreck?”

“i’m not hungry.”her dull voice rang from the living room, and jj walked over to her with a concerned look coming across his face. crouching in front of the girl, jj cupped her cheeks, causing her e/c to bore into his blue ones.

“talk to me.”the simple three words spilled out of his mouth, and she could feel the walls she had built up starting to crumble below her, “i’m worried, hell all of us are worried about you.”

it was silence as y/n fought back tears, trying her best to not fall apart right then and there. she wanted to hold back the tears, something she had done since her father left and dcs got involved a few months back. holding up a wall, and biting her tongue was half of the battle.

“i can’t lose him.”she finally spoke up, with a tear slipping down her cheeks, “he’s the only person that i can trust that i have left.”

“i don’t know my purpose without following my older brother.”

stressfully running a hair through her h/c hair, she quickly stood up, and started to walk around the chateau, attempting to stop the tears that kept spilling.

“y/n i get it-”jj started, but was quickly stopped by the girl as she quickly grabbed her keys and cellphone, racing to find a way out of this mess.

“no jj you don't get it!”she snapped, before ripping the door open seeing pouring rain coming down, “nobody fucking gets it!”

and with that, the door slammed shut, before tires squealed out of the driveway, leaving jj maybank standing at the chateau alone.

with the radio shut off, and the only noise joining her was the rain that came down heavily on the roof. she sat alone in her thoughts, finding herself holding her breath, and realizing she didn’t actually know who she was.

as of late, she wasn't proud of herself. it seemed like as soon as her dad’s disappearance, she kept hitting her head on an invisible glass, poisoning herself on the daily with alcohol, and other substances she was too ashamed to tell her brother or the rest of the pogues about. the h/c girl pulled into an empty parking spot, and sat in front of the beach as she tried to figure out the last time she actually had a hold on her life.

she spent the last few months trying to find a line of fulfillment, and trying to not be full of herself, standing up against rafe cameron, speaking up about something that put her safety in jeopardy, and finally waking up, realizing that being polite wasn’t going to get you anywhere in life.

the youngest routledge felt like she was on a humble quest, trying not to hold her breath, entirely unsure if she would ever be able to find one.

y/n was a hell of a hassle, and she knew that, but didn’t understand any of it until now. it was like all the puzzle pieces were connecting, and everything started to make sense to her. her mind wandered, wondering if she had done her best the past few months, struggling with not only the loss of their mother still, but now the loss of their father.

“i’m on a humble quest.”y/n whispered to herself, realizing what everything meant.

“and damn i gotta do my best.”

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itsagrimm · 1 year

Text

Hinterland

König X she/her OC

After a battle, König struggles with getting to safety, wondering how he got here and if he will ever make it home.

This taps into where König comes from and why König is part of the military.

CN: angst, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of death, mentions of nausea & vomit, warzone descriptions, sexual assault, queerphobia and transphobia, this whole thing is steeped in patriarchal themes and violence, violence against women* in warzones, themes of sexual assault and extreme stress situations, hunger and starvation, mentions of rape, bullying, failing in school due to untreated neurodiversity, bad parenting, teen romance and teen romance emotions, untreated mental health issues, i guess i am giving König both Autism and ADHD, getting dead named, mentions of needles and medical procedures, medical inaccuracies (I have researched too much for this already don't expect me to correctly describe a medical facility too)

has kind of a happy end, kind of not.

5,8 k words

beta read by @musigrusi thank you so much 💕

Notes for cultural context:

The name Hannes is a German boys name.

Amalia is named after the Prussian princess Anna Amalie who was known to be an independent woman, a musician and generally well educated. She stayed unmarried her whole life and was a close confidant to her brother king Friedrich II. Her baroque organ is still in use in the church “Zur Frohen Botschaft” in Karlshorst, Berlin. Should you have the chance, check it out, it's beautiful and they play free concerts regularly. Also, Since Prussia under Friedrich II waged war against Austria, the name Amalia low-key mark her as foreign in Austria.

The Perseiden are a yearly meteoric shower visible in the summer months.

The sweat never stopped being a nuisance, dripping into his eyes and down his back. König grimaced under his hood, trying to ignore the thirst in his throat and heat under his armor, and dragged on.

Every time he left a battle, he forgot how punishing physical discomfort was and how harshly it gnawed at his body no matter how much he trained.

Every time he told himself it was the last time that he would go out to kill and get killed in a thousand little ways.

Every time he forgot and returned anyway.

Might have overdone it this time.

He looked down.

The bandage on his leg started to bleed through. And he still had a long way back to base.

It had been his usual employment with his usual rates, enough to buy a house or run a little shop back home. Maybe a bookstore or café where they could sell overpriced coffee to the tourists and have a well curated book selection for the locals.

She would like that.

König banished his thoughts and concentrated on the here and now as he limped on. He was out in the open. Any sniper, hell, anyone with a decent aim and a rock could turn into a problem for him now. He was an easy target and in need of cover, rest, and a pick-up.

Quickly, he scanned his environment. It was a stony valley he had seen a thousand times. No water or settlements in sight. Patches of dried-out greenery littered the barren landscape here and there. Further up, he spotted a couple of boulders ideal for cover from anyone passing through the valley.

It would do.

He moved carefully not to hurt his leg even more and climbed up the stones with practiced ease before sitting down and turning on the radio to call for help.

Static.

No answer.

He tried again.

Static.

Hannah was always the tallest girl in class, sitting at the back of the room while the teacher babbled on about history and war and peace and war and peace again. She looked outside. Spring had started and the nearby trees turned greener by the day, calling to her to-

“Hannah! Die Tafel ist vorne, nicht draußen im Wald!”

She turned back. Her teacher shook her head disapprovingly at Hannah for the interruption, before continuing with the wars. To show her eagerness and to appease her teacher, Hannah grabbed one of her pens and tried taking notes.

1809.

Napoleon had made it here and laid siege to Vienna like the Osman’s before him. At least they had bought the coffee to Austria. Napoleon on the other hand got Hannah only into a particularly boring history class. Little cups of coffee started to litter the side of her history notes. A small graphite-coloured Napoleon trying to grab a cup with his tiny hands half-finished as the teacher slammed down the ruler onto Hannah’s papers and interrupted her art.

“Hannah! Aufpassen!”

König woke up from the cold. The sweat had soaked his shirt and even his heavy armor and layers of tech wear couldn’t keep him warm in the early hours of the day. He looked up into the sky to get some clue where he was only to see clouds hiding any chance of him navigating this way. He needed help.

If he couldn’t get someone to pick him up, he was massively fucked.

Click.

Static.

He spoke into the Radio. No answer.

Click.

Static.

Click.

Static.

Click.

Would someone even tell her where he had died?

He shivered and started to rub his body to get himself warm again.

“Na, Lange, wie ist das Wetter da oben?”

Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Halt’s Maul.”, she dismissed and kept walking as the boys and girls snickered and giggled behind her in the hallway of the school. Her long stride took her quickly out of earshot from them.

“Sorry, are you alright?”

She stopped in her tracks.

A girl Hannah hadn’t seen before, eyed her with shy concern.

“I saw how the others treat you. I didn’t understand. I speak only ein bisschen Deutsch.”, she smiled shyly, “But they looked mean. So, I thought I’ll ask.”

“It’s okay. I am fine.”, Hannah quickly dismissed, hating her own clumsy accent and her shaky voice. She sounded exactly like her father when he tried to explain some lost hikers the way back to the town, overwhelmed and nervous.

They stared at each other, Hannah feeling the awkward silence creeping up her neck as the pretty girl fluttered her lashes at her expectantly.

“Thanks for asking.”, Hannah added in an attempt to break the uncomfortable quiet between them.

“It was nothing. What’s your name?”

“Hannah. I’m in class 10-b. What is yours?”

“Amalia. I’m in 10-a.”

“Nice to meet you, Amalia.”

Another weird pause in which Amalia waited for Hannah to say something.

Oh Gott.

“Would you like to have lunch together, Hannah? It’s lunchbreak and I don’t know where the cafeteria is yet.”

Hannah smiled.

Showing the new girl around. And she was nice.

“Sure.”

The pebbles under his feet made his walk harder and König kept stumbling while he pushed himself further down the valley and into what must be north towards the US base. Back home he had a map with a pin for every base he had visited. There were a lot of pins over their sofa in that map, and sometimes she teased him about pins possibly falling down into the cushions of their sofa and pricking them into the ass.

He smiled at the thought of her little delightful ass.

Sometimes she lamented different things - like him going to add more pins.

Might not make it back and add a pin this time.

Amalia was from the US. Her father had worked for the military in Ramstein where her mother was from. They had lived in a couple of places around the world, always on the move following her father’s station until her mother had enough and they ended up in Austria because of some distant relative and a job. It was like that sometimes.

Hannah did not care about the whys and ifs.

She only cared about Amalia being here now.

“I am so envious!” Amalia called out as they walked through the town from school, “you always lived in a beautiful place like this.”

Hannah snorted.

“You think it’s pretty? It’s mostly just boring. Nothing ever changes.”

Amalia took Hannah’s hand and pressed it with unbroken excitement.

“You are just feeling like nothing changes but I bet, there have been plenty of changes.”

Hannah looked down at Amalia’s hand in hers. It felt good.

“This town is a few centuries old”, she said, “The house my family lives in has been in the family for over 200 years now. And even back then we were known as the tallest from around here, so it’s built higher.”

“That’s so cool.”

“That’s so repetitive. It’s like living my ancestors’ lives without ever breaking away from their paths. The furthest I ever got was Munich for a school trip. Even my name is from a great-grandmother and a family tradition. You on the other hand-“

“I have been to military bases”, Amalia protested and interlaced her fingers with Hannah’s while dragging her onwards, “Honestly, they are all the same wherever you go. I’d rather be here instead of looking at ugly barracks, guns, and buff dudes with tattoos and too much testosterone.”

Hannah grinned.

“Are buff dudes not your liking?”, she teased.

Amalia giggled.

“Some are okay to look at.”

After a day of walking, he made it to a settlement. Waiting for the twilight to give him cover he rested behind some boulders and observed the handful of buildings. It was a simple farmhouse surrounded by with a few sheds, huts and a well. He heard voices speaking a language he did not understand, an older man was sitting in front of the house resting and looking after a little kid playing on the ground. The elder spoke tenderly to the child and the child answered sweetly, sometimes with laughter and sometimes with the unmistakable higher pitch of a curious question. A woman worked the farm, running around and finishing the days business. She looked tired, thin, and worn out.

No Fighters. No younger men.

Briefly, very briefly, König considered leaving. Disrupting this family’s warzone lifes with more warzone stench, made him uneasy.

Killing during a battle was simple. This was not.

But he needed bandages, food, and water.

His battered body and mind made the decision for him. Hunger brings out the worst out of men. Hunger and the hope of getting back home. He reached for his rifle.

The halls in Amalia’s house were littered with pictures of her family. Smiling children, dutiful wives, stern looking men in uniform. Was this how family is supposed to be? Hannah didn’t know, barely daring to call her own home a family.

Amalia was easy to recognize in several of the pictures, she had that shy pretty smile with the excited glint in her eyes since she was a child.

“Who is that?”, Hannah asked, pointing at one of the men in uniform.

“Oh, that’s my cousin. He is a marine.”

Hannah nodded. Marine sounded important. Militaristic. Far away from little town Austria.

After the family retreated into the farmhouse König crept closer. With his rifle ready he sneaked to the well for water, quickly refilling his canteen and quenching his thirst as silently as possible before moving past the little shed with some hens and through a simple garden, with plants fighting to stay alive in the midday heat, before reaching the door. A little bell was next to the door. He reached for it and stilled.

He was a soldier. He knew he was a terrifying sight with his hood and his height and most importantly - his rifle. Should he really do this?

Before he could decide, the door opened, and the woman cried out in fear and surprise.

Trained instinct took over and he aimed his rifle, moving himself into the house and pushing the woman back while checking the room for targets.

It was a kitchen. The old man was sitting at the table leaning before the child to shield it while staring up at this giant intruder with the hood and the rifle, staring up at König in fear. The child whimpered and the woman talked and cried as she got up from where König had pushed her.

“Quiet!”, he roared, and they all stilled.

Another check for enemies, he did not expect to find but the practice was too ingrain in him not to.

“Quiet”, he repeated breathlessly.

Schnipp. Schnapp. Ab.

Mother had disapproved of Hannah cutting her hair, sending her to her room without dinner while her father just shook his head disapprovingly.

“Du siehst aus wie ein Junge. Furchtbar.“

Hannah just stood up from the family table and left, thinking to herself that looking like a boy was not the worst thing she could be.

Climbing up the stairs in the old farmhouse, skipping the one that creaked loud like an old pine tree during a heavy storm, she thought about mothers’ words.

Cutting off her hair had been an unexplainable need. It was so quick. She barely registered how it cut free from the weight of those blond plaits of hair. Carefully, she reached up and touched her head, her fingers gliding easily through her soft short strands now. Like a boys.

“Quiet.”, he repeated in his normal speaking voice, his eyes darting around the room and trying to see the woman, the elder and the toddler at the same time while gripped his rifle to keep his hands from shaking.

“Do you understand me? Verstehen Sie mich? Me comprenez-vous?”, he tried thinking of any other way to communicate, he wasn’t even sure in which country he was right now. Every warzone looked the same after a while.

“Yes.”

It was the woman.

“Yes, I speak American. I speak English”, she continued, “Leave son alone. Leave father alone. Please.”

Nausea swept through him, and he felt the sour taste of vomit rise in his throat. The sound of the woman begging him hit him harder than a kick in the stomach.

“Please, please!”, she continued leaning towards him, “You want me! Take me! Leave son alone! Leave father alone!”

“No!”, he tried to calm her and himself, “I don’t want to harm you. Or your family. No danger. No harm. See!”

He lowered the rifle while lifting one of his hands to show his intends.

“See!”

She started tearing at her dress. “Take me! Leave son alone! Leave father alone!”

König stilled, mortified at the sight of the woman in undress and begging for him to not harm her family.

He swayed back.

“No! Don’t!”, König tried to stop her from undressing further, fighting his own battle training to keep focus on everyone in the room while avoiding seeing the woman’s bare body.

I shouldn’t be here. I should be home.

It was too much. The disgust in his stomach flared up sharply, and he hated himself for coming to this house, this country, this continent – for disrupting a family’s dinner and terrifying a woman so much that she was willing to offer herself to a random soldier just to save her family.

He tore off his glove and lifted his hand.

“NO! Don’t worry! See-“, he wiggled with his fingers in a macabre comedic way to show the ring he wore, “I am not going to rape you. I am not going to kill your family. I just need help to get home. To my wife.”

Hannah had climbed out of the window again. It became a habit of leaving late at night to stroll through the forest before navigating her way to Amalia’s house. And it was better than feeling locked up in her childhood bedroom again.

With practised ease Hannah climbed over the fence and checked for light in Amalia’s window before throwing a pebble against it.

“It’s late!”, Hannah whispered as silently as possible while also trying to be as audible as possible for Amalia.

“Yeah, and you are marauding around. Shouldn’t you at least try to sleep before school?”, Amalia shot back from upstairs.

Hannah shrugged.

“I will be a farmer no matter if I pay attention in school or not. Why are you up this time?”

Amalia giggled.

“Studying. I want to go to university. I need good marks. And my German is still shit.”

“Oh.”

Amalia would leave one day, for a different life. Away from the pretty town in the countryside that was so stuck in time.

“Hey.”

Amalia sounded different, nervous.

“Hannah, uh…”, She leaned down closer, “Can I kiss you?”

The words struck Hannah like lightning. In Hannah’s mind it felt like an impossibility for her to kiss a girl, to kiss Amalia with her nice smile and her kind teases and her soft hand holding Hannah’s and the way words rolled off her lips and-

“Yes.”

Who cares about possibilities.

König stumbled outside and puked right next to the entrance, retching what felt like his guts onto the stony ground.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here at all. No soldier should.

After his stomach was empty, he heaved heavily for air before standing up again and wiping his mouth with the gloved hand.

Scheiße.

“Man?”

He turned around. It was the woman, peaking fearfully through the door at him, holding her dress together with her hands.

“Sorry”, König gesticulated at the puddle of puke.

“Ok.”, she just replied flatly as if anything was ok.

He cleared his throat.

“I am sorry.”, König repeated,” I just need a new bandage, some direction and maybe some food. I will leave right after.”

“Ok.”

She repeated and closed the door, leaving him to wait outside.

He couldn’t blame her. To calm himself he started checking his rifle out of habit, while monitoring the dark garden and surrounding valley.

Could he trust her? Was she just getting her weapon to shoot him out of fear? Or rat him out to whoever was in charge in this area?

It’s not like he had a choice. The wound on his leg throbbed, he was lost and out of rations.

Nervously he drummed against the rifle, eyeing every shadow with suspicion.

After a few minutes the door opened again, and the woman stepped outside. She had a jacket on now, a couple of acidic smelling rags in her arms as well as some kind of bread. With as much distance as possible she passed the things he had asked for to König and he took them with a nod.

“Thank you.”, he mumbled.

“Directions. Yes?”, she asked coldly, ignoring his words.

“Yes.”

“You go there.”, she waved into the direction König had assumed the next US military base.

He nodded again.

She looked at him, before turning around and stepping to the door.

“Leave.”

He heard the door getting looked and a chair dragged in front of it after she closed it behind her.#

“Zieh dich an, Hannah! So kannst du nicht zur Feier.”, the mother ordered.

Hannah just looked at her and the dress she was holding.

“Nein.”

“Hannah!”

It was Sunday. A cousin was getting married. With the church and the whole family and flower girls and a white dress.

But not with Hannah in a dress.

“Wenn du dich nicht fertig machst, kannst du auch nicht mitkommen.”

“Okay.”

It was a clear calculation: no dress, no piece of the wedding cake, no Hannah in the family pictures.

She could live with that. If she had to wear a dress, she wouldn’t go.

Silently she got up and left her parents to go to her bedroom - her mother still staring at her disapprovingly and her father mildly uninterested in his wife’s attempts to raise his daughter.

It was sunny outside, beautiful. She didn’t even wait for her parents to leave before climbing out of the window and sneaking away.

The forest was humming with life as Hannah walked through it before making her way to Amalia’s house.

Amalia was sitting in the summer sun in the garden and studying. As always.

“You know, we have a gate in the fence if you feel like not showing off how tall you are, Hannah.”, Amalia greeted with a smile.

“I’m not showing off. It’s my natural grace to jump fences like a gazelle”, Hannah shot back, before kissing Amalia and taking a seat at the table on the garden veranda.

“More like a giraffe with your long legs”, Amalia scoffed.

“Either way, do you want to go for a hike today? It’s nice in the forest.”

“You should become a ranger like my uncle or a soldier like my marine-cousin with your never ending need to be in the forest and on the move. You would be the queen of the mountains! The most feral one out there”, Amalia stated and shook her head, “I can’t! I need to study.”

Hannah chuckled while getting up again, “Alright, have fun studying.”

“Wait!”, Amalia called.

Hannah turned back while Amalia reached over the table to kiss her.

“Be safe out there.”

The bread felt like the best thing König had eaten in weeks. With his stomach emptied and the sour taste of acid on his tongue it felt like a piece of heaven in his mouth. He knew it would only keep him satisfied for a short time. But it would give him strength to get himself to the base.

Next, he looked at his injury. Hidden between two boulders a click away from the house he sat down and took out his emergency light. Turning it on the lowest setting he quickly checked his wound. It was deep and due to the lack of fresh bandages and only his minimal first aid so far, slightly infected. Grimacing from the pain he started putting the rags onto the open flesh. It wasn’t ideal but the acid would keep the bacteria at bay while the rags protected the wound from dirt getting into it.

At least he hoped so.

Tired, so, so tired he reached for the radio and turned it on.

Click.

Static.

“Hello?”

No answer but static silence.

Click.

They were laying on the grass staring into the summer night, holding hands, and watching as the Perseids flared up and gifted them one shooting star after another.

“Hannah.”

“Hm?”

“I’m cold.”

Wordlessly Hannah moved closer and embraced Amalia with her taller, bigger frame, steeled from working her father’s farm, rubbing her sides to warm her up.

She giggled and kissed Hannah, “Thanks.”

The grass they lay on was green and starting to get wet from the morning dew as the milky way glanced beautiful and disinterested down at them.

Soon they would have to leave, part. With Amalia returning home and walking to the front door of her family’s neat little house. And Hannah climbing back up through the window of the old farmhouse.

Hannah sighed, nervously making a fist, and relaxing again to calm her nerves.

“Can I be your girlfriend?”, Amalia asked into the silence before Hannah had even started to search for the right words.

“Yes! I-“

Hannah paused, not sure why.

“Hannah, love, what is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Amalia sat up and looked down in concern to Hannah.

“No, I-“, Hannah closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, “Can you stop calling me Hannah?”

Amalia paused. “Okay. How else am I supposed to call you?”

The other girl let her shoulders sink and dropped her head. “I don’t know. I keep getting told I am a boy-ish. That a Hannah would be different than who I am. And I know it’s mean. But I don’t think they are wrong.”

Amalia’s fingers were cold as she reached out and touched the other one’s shoulder, rubbing little soothing circles before scooting closer and turning it into a full embrace.

“If Hannah does not work for you, let’s try out other names, okay?”

Nodd.

“I am not very creative and maybe I don’t understand you correctly. How do you feel about ‘Hannes’?”

Nodd. A choked sob came out of Hannes as he leaned into the embrace, feeling many things as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Let’s try it out then, Hannes.”, Amalia whispered and hummed, slowly rocking him in her arms until his sobs stopped.

He stayed anyway, her arms around him feeling like the strongest thing in the world holding him under the stars covered summer sky until he felt Amalia shiver.

“You are getting cold. I am sorry for keeping you here.”

“Don’t be. I have a boyfriend who will give me his jacket and rubs my arms to warm me up now, you know.”

A surprised laughter escaped him as he took off his jacket for her.

“Yes, you have.”

The sun rose mercilessly into the sky over König, turning his world from shivering darkness into blazing clarity about his situation. Weakly, he lifted his head, took a few sips from his canteen, and summoned his strength to grab the radio.

Click.

Static, the eternal static that never bothered to answer him.

He asked anyway: “Hello, anybody out there?”

Static.

He was about to turn it off again as finally, after days of dragging himself through the dust and stone, an answer.

“This is Claris Airfield speaking. Claris Airfield speaking. Please identify yourself.”

Another night, another sneaking out of the window, another walk through the forest.

For the first time in a long while Hannes walked the familiar paths with light feet.

It felt right, the road felt right, he felt right as he hiked the short road down the mountain to Amalia’s house.

The window to her room was open and Hannes climbed up to her room with practised ease, knocking at the glass to alert her to his presence.

“Hannes!”, she greeted him from her bed while putting down one the current of many books she read.

Peeking into her room he smiled and asked, “Can I come in? I couldn’t sleep and I missed you.”

She nodded and waved him inside, making space for him on the bed.

He sat down next to her and pointed at the book.

“What are you reading tonight?”

“A guid handbook for kids from military families about studying. My father insisted on me reading it.”

“Why? I am sure the Universities in Vienna, Graz or Salzburg will be more than happy to have you. Munich or Brünn are not too far away either. There is no need to go back to the US for University.”, Hannes shifted closer to Amalia, putting an arm around her.

She leaned against him, fumbling nervously with the book.

“My Dad…”, she started carefully, “He wants me to study back home in the US. He became strange since the divorce with mum.”

“How so?”

“He…”, she paused, “He became strict, mean. He has many rules and expectations, more than ever. When I mentioned that I had a boyfriend he started questioning me.”

“Isn’t that what dads do?”

“I don’t know. Oh, I don’t know, Hannes. It was strange. I wanted him to stop so I agreed to take a look at universities away from here.”

She pressed into his side, taking his other free hand and interlacing her fingers with his.

”Hannes, I don’t want to leave. But I might have too. Dad … he is the one who can finance my schooling, mum can’t.”

He closed his eyes, thinking about how he felt when Amalia was gone, how he had felt before he had even met her. The solution was as clear and simple as the night sky. If she had to go, he would follow.

“I will always find a way to you, should you want me to, Amalia. Don’t worry.”

The Heli circled over the valley. König tried to get up but felt too weak from the loss of blood after hours of working the radio and slowly bleeding out. A medic had made his way up to him, telling König he got lucky while he worked on his leg. Another medic argued with the pilot of the helicopter how to best move König up.

“Yo, big guy!”, he shouted over the noise from the heli above them, “You need to get up and secure yourself. We lost our stretcher during that last shitshow of a battle.”

Oida.

König groaned and worked himself into a standing position, half leaning against the stone and half getting dragged up by the medic at his side.

“Oh wow, you really are big. What did they feed you as a kid?”

Luft und Liebe.

He kept his mouth shut and concentrated on the ropes before him while the silent medic at his side helped him secure himself as his colleague babbled on.

“For real, the ladies must love you back home.”

“Oh, shut up”, his helper snapped. Must be new, “You think our guy wants to hear you point out something he has heard a thousand times before while bleeding like a pig?”

“I’m just making small talk.”

“Good luck small-talking with a German.”

“I am Austrian.”, König grunted, surprised by his own lucidity and insistence.

The medics stared at him.

“Isn’t that the same as German?”, the blabbermouth asked.

König groaned, unsure if from pain or annoyance.

Amalia had left for the US, just days ago but it like years to him. It was getting cold outside, winter creeping up over the mountains and with it snow, and wind, and darkness.

The familiar forest paths were bare and lonely to wander on. Hannes kept walking there to keep the habit, to not forget the feeling of just strolling down the forest and then seeing Amalia.

His Amalia.

She had given him her phone, saying she would just tell her parents she lost hers so that they could stay in contact. They had talked yesterday. Her voice was a bare whisper as she quietly told him of her journey, describing him all the things he hadn’t seen while trying to not alert her father.

He hadn’t approved. Of course, Amalia’s father hadn’t approved of Hannes. He was just some guy from the middle of nowhere Austria. Amalia had cried after that, telling Hannes only bits of what her father had said about Hannes, apologizing repeatedly and leaving out the most horrendous parts.

Still, he knew.

Hannes had grown up in a little town with his classmates’ pointing fingers at him for his unusual height for a girl, with neighbours raising their eyebrows at the sight of him roaming the forest and fields with town skirts and unkept hair, with his parents becoming bitter and uninterested in him for not behaving like they wanted a daughter to behave.

Of course, Hannes knew that her father called him Hannah and a girl, disapproving of their relationship no matter what Amalia said.

He used to be angry and hurt about it, but the feeling ebbed since what felt like about the same eons since Amalia left.

Now he had better things to do than fighting for the approval of people he only cared little about and who would never change their ways no matter what he did or who he would become.

Fickt euch alle, he thought to himself as he walked down the creaking stairs into the kitchen.

He needed to get out of this town, fast.

And he had to find a way back to Amalia. Hannes knew of a way, thinking of all those men in uniform back in Amalia’s house, her cousins, her uncles, her father - thinking of the power and dignity - and most importantly money - they got for traveling to far away places, wearing uniforms and carring guns. It was nearly funny that the man who disapproved so clearly of Hannes, showed him the easiest way back to his daughter.

“Mama”, he asked while stepping into the room, “Ich brauche deine Hilfe. Kannst du das unterschreiben?”

The mother turned around from the stove, moving what she had worked on to the side, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Was ist das?”, she asked, “Wieder schlechte Noten in der Schule?”

He shook his head. No, this wasn’t about school.

“Ich will gehen, Mama. Weg von hier. Ich muss.”

She starred at him, blinking a few times before smiling softly like all parents do when gently but firmly hurting their children with words.

“Hannah.”

He shivered, hating every syllable, and passing his mother a pen instead. He needed her signature to leave. Nothing else.

“Hannah, du kannst nicht weg. Wer soll sonst den Hof machen?”

“Wenn ich bleibe, bin ich lebendig begraben. Gib mir eine Chance zu leben. Lass mich gehen.”

She starred at him, tears coming to her eyes as she reached over the table for the son, she did not know she had.

“Mama! Bitte.”, Hannes said to break the painful silence and pushing aside all those emotions raising their heads like snakes inside him, passing her the enlist document for the Bundesheer instead. He needed this to be done or he might break under his mothers sad gaze.

She starred at him, shaken, and breaking before him, finally putting down the pen to sign his freedom.

König woke up laying on one of the field beds most lazarettos used. His head felt painfully heavy and like it was about to drop through the bed onto the floor. He groaned.

“Konik”, a medic greeted him, walking closer.

He groaned again, not sure if from the oh too familiar mix of pain and annoyance about having his callname so massively butchered or just the pain.

“Konik, glad to have you back. How are you feeling?”

“Scheiße.”, he mumbled, deciding to not argue with someone yielding needles which could aleviate his pains.

The Medic chuckled and started fumbling with an IV bag currently slowly dripping into his body via a catheter in his arm, “I’m adjusting your pain medication. You are a big fella and need a bit more than usual. But don’t worry, we will have you back up in no time.”

He grunted an acknowledgment, too tired to talk much more.

“Ah Mr. Konig-“, the medic called as the medication started to take him out again, “I was told you are getting a nice ride home after this. A littl’ vacation waiting for you so better get well soon and don’t let those at home wait longer than necessary.”

Home, he was getting home.

Finally.

Vienna main station was as unpleasant as every station, a busy place where people ran around to get to their train or forcefully stood still until it was their time to catch the right connection.

Better than Frankfurt am Main or Berlin. Fürchterlich. Ugh.

Vienna generally had a different pace, better suited for Königs still recovering leg.

Venerable and pleasant.

He had learned to love that once he left Austria for the first time. Leisurely, he strolled out of the building, careful to not knock somebody over with his duffel back, and got on the right tram home.

Outside of the rolling tram the houses stared down at him through the window with familiar fronts. König wondered when exactly he had become so accustomed to the sights: A castle here, a Gemeindebau there, cafés and parks he had visited - after all, he had not grown up in Vienna, barely stayed here for longer than a few months at a time, and only moved to the city after getting married - continuing to leave when the need to move became too unbearable to be quenched with runs in the Prater or when running into someone back from the old town and getting called 'Hannah' again.

Vienna had become a sanctuary so fast.

So normal, he could only stand it for short times.

Stepping out of the tram at his stop he decided to make a quick detour for some flowers before finally making the way to the apartment.

Not looking at the names on the bell signs of the house he pressed ‘Kaiser’, their shared family name for years now.

With a quick buzz the entrance to the hallway opened and he stepped into the pretty tilted hall and up the flight of stairs.

He made it half the way up before she bolted down and into his arms, nearly knocking him over and down the stairs again, hadn't he sacrificed the now crushed flowers and grabbed the railing.

“Hannes!”, Amalia cried out as she pressed herself into him, “You're back.”

He embraced her tightly, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.

“Yes, Amalia, I’m back.”

For now.

something something protect transkids, warzones are full of people CoD conveniently hardly engages with, women* are the first targets in war, neurodiversity has little to no space in our ableist societies unless it can be exploited, the military is shit and preys on those in need, patriarchy needs to go, going to war means not returning as the same person you left as, did i miss something or do you feel like i could have improved some points feel free to send me a message something something criticism is essential to improve

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #könig x oc #könig call of duty #könig x you #call of duty #transmasc könig #könig is austrian and that is something i am willing to argue about forever

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