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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 5 months

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Sighting: wintersoldier!reader x simon ghost riley

The car hummed as they got closer to their destination. Ghost sat in the back, his eyes barely leaving the the car floor as he gripped his gun.

The ride had been tense and uncomfortably quiet. There was nothing to say, nothing to joke about as they made their way towards the beginning of getting the answers they all prayed for in last five years.

Ghost did everything to keep himself straight. He ignored the chest pains and the shortness of breath, the pit in his stomach and the nauseating bile in the back of his throat.

You were alive yet you were gone. Gone from the task force. Gone from him.

"Remember we need information." Price said firmly. "Capture only. We can't afford to mess this up."

They were going to get information about who they were dealing with. The people who you had been with were Russian and all signs pointed to Konni Group but they had to make sure. And in the process they could find out where you were, if you were actually with them.

Ghost still didn't want to believe it still. He refused to.

You wouldn't join the other side. Not you, not the woman who fought so hard against it, who fought with such fire.

Price parked the car in an alley away from the main building and they all filed out. They stuck to the shadows as they made their way to it, keeping their guns ready as they found an entry point.

Inside the building was supposed to be a hideout, a place that would have some kind of information that would connect them the group they saw in the video.

Price took point and Ghost followed.

The walk up the stairs was slow. Never in Ghost's whole career had he felt impatient in these situations. He was find with taking his time when he needed to but he wanted to get to the room as soon as possible. He didn't care if he got shot, especially since as they moved upwards they had to drop a few targets before they continued, because he just wanted to find you.

When they got to the top they could hear someone on the other side of the door frantically moving around speaking in Russian.

"Remember, capture not kill." Price looked at Ghost and he nodded.

Ghost pushed the door open and they rushed in guns raised.

"Wait, wait! Don't shoot." A man stood in the middle of the dimly lit room with his hands raised high. He looked distressed as he frantically looked at all of them. "I can tell you everything, they're going to kill me."

"Step away from the table." Ghost ordered, noticing the gun that sat on it.

The man moved away quickly, his hands still in the air until he stood in front of the windows. He shook violently as he glanced behind him and around him.

"You're here about the intel we stole right? I can tell you where we have it-"

"You could be lying." Soap barked but he shook his head.

"I promise I'm not! I'll tell you everything if you get me out of here. They're going to kill me."

Ghost glanced at Price and saw the hard look in his eyes. It was hard to tell if the man was actually telling the truth or if he was stalling for something. Even if he looked actually scared, Ghost wouldn't be surprised if he was just trying to not get shot.

"Gaz, secure-"

The window shattered and the man was shot in the head, his body falling to the floor before another shot flew through the window right at Ghost.

Everyone quickly scrambled for cover, two more shots hitting into the walls of the building before they were out of the sights of whoever was outside.

"I thought we only had to worry about the inside?" Gaz kept himself hidden.

"Someone called for back up?" Soap wondered but no one had an answer.

Ghost grabbed the nearest object and threw it across the room before it was struck with a bullet. He clenched his jaw, staying behind the alcove he tucked himself in as he thought up a plan.

There was a window to his side that lead out to a fire escape. He could climb to the roof, hopefully without being shot, to get a good angle of whoever it was.

"Keep 'em busy." He nodded towards the window and Price nodded.

Price shout out the light, blanketing them in darkness while Ghost opened the window. They moved about the dark and baited a couple more shots from the assailant while he slipped outside.

He climbed up quickly, ignoring the shots the continued to echo off the buildings. They were lucky whoever it was didn't have night vision on their scope.

When he reached the roof, he hid behind an air-conditioning unit and readied his weapon. He waited for more gunshots, knowing he'd get the best opportunity when they were busy.

A singular shot rang out and he whirred around, immediately looking down the scope and his finger ready to pull the trigger.

Then his heart stopped.

It was you.

You sat crouched on top of a roof from another building. You were looking down your own scope as you waited for one of the others to move to try to pick them off. You looked just like you had in the video, a mask covering most of your face save for your eyes.

Ghost froze, his heart pounding against his chest as he moved his finger away from the trigger. He would've shot you by now and would've killed you with one shot. The higher ups would've yelled at him to do it, he knows that they'll be pissed that he didn't.

You were an enemy.

But he couldn't.

He must've moved and caught your attention. He barely had enough time to duck behind the unit again before a bullet ricocheted off it. In the distance he could hear sirens, which meant time was running short.

In an instant, Ghost found himself wanting to leap across the gap to get to you. He shot up from his spot ready to do so but you were gone, leaving nothing behind as if you'd never been there.

"Ghost." Price's voice crackled over the comms. "You didn't take the shot."

There was an edge to his voice and Ghost merely stared at the place where you had been as if you'd magically reappear if he willed it.

"It was her."

Silence. That's all that was left.

TAGS ARE CLOSED!

A/n: not my best work honestly. next parts will hopefully be better i just wanted to get this out to get it over with

Tags: @bucky-lents @theweirdgeninistuff @igotchuuknj @rafaelacallinybbay @yyiikes @paintlavillered @tacticalanklebiter3000 @spicyspicyliving @cod-z @whiskytoast @soapscannonwife @bossva @agustdpeach @shinchanboi @catkatchuck @luluzinha444 @blush-haze @pepsicolacoochie @mercurysjoy @keiraslayz

#wintersoldier!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #call of duty

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spicyspiders · 1 year

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Request from @xweirdo101x that wanted a story where the reader is a member of the task force that was captured for a year and by the time he's rescued, his hair has turned white. I hope you like it!

It took a few months to come to the conclusion that you weren’t getting out of your detainment. You were tired of hoping and knew you needed to save your energy. Though it wasn’t physical to hope, it would be wiser to put your thoughts elsewhere.

You didn't try to escape. Though your thoughts were filled with possibilities, you never put them into action.

It was a quiet day when they came to save you. Well, quiet up until they showed up.

You were in your cell when they found you. You had just eaten and felt tired and sluggish. You sat against one of the four walls, your eyes getting heavier and heavier. The loud sound of yelling was what had your eyes shooting open.

After a few moments of yelling and the sound of a body hitting the ground, it went quiet again. During those moments, you inched over into the corner of the room, trying to make yourself look as small as you could.

Whoever they were, they checked each and every cell down the line. When they reached yours, you tried to settle your beating heart while adrenaline shot through your veins. You thought it was a trick of your eyes when the cell door opened and Price stepped through the door. Blood was rushing through your body to your legs and arms in case you needed to run, so surely it wasn’t actually Price, but a trick caused by blood loss through your brain and eyes, right?

“Can you walk?” Price asked.

“Yes,” you nodded and looked up at him with wide eyes.

Price held one of his gloved hands down in front of you, and once you were up, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder so you could walk together.

“I can walk,” you reminded him.

“It’s faster this way,” Price said, his tone leaving no room for arguments. He pulled you through the dank corridor, the other hand not wrapped around your shoulder held out in front of him, a gun in his hand.

Price's body was hot against yours. So much so that it made you uncomfortable, but when he felt you tense up, his arm only tightened around you. You pushed through the feeling, instead, you focused on keeping your legs moving.

“They’re all gone, commander,” Ghost immediately said when you went through a door and were met with the sight of the rest of the task force.

“Dead?” Price asked in return.

“Yes,” Ghost jerked his head in a stiff nod, then his attention was on you.

All of their attention was like they were waiting to respond to the words as well. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be happy, you just wanted to be home, away from all the bloodshed. “Can we go?” You asked, your voice rough.

Price nodded, he unwrapped his arm from around your shoulder, but still, you felt the warmth. He took his spot in front of you, Ghost at your right, Soap on your left, and then Gaz at your back, effectively surrounding you.

It wasn’t until you were back on base that your heart finally slowed down from where it thudded against your ribs. On the journey back, there were instances where you thought it was going to, but it would only start back up again, your brain thinking you were about to be captured again.

The smell of the base felt familiar to your nose, even after being away for nearly a year. The smell almost made you sick, a feeling that all of them were able to easily read.

“Go shower and we’ll make you something to eat-”

“They fed me,” you cut Price off, making the man flinch at your cold tone.

Price responded after nodding, “go shower then. We’ll talk to you about what happened when you’re ready.”

Your hands balled into tight fists at your side. You wanted to question him and see what he would say if you were to ask what if you weren’t ready. What if you wouldn’t ever be? But all you did was give a tight nod.

You knew it wouldn’t magically fix you, but it didn’t make you feel all that better. You were clean, but you still carried around what happened to you. It weighed on you heavily, making you feel more exhausted than you already felt.

You thought about going straight to bed, but you intead walked to the living room. As you approached, you could hear the noise of whatever was playing on the television drift through the doorway. The sound greeted you, unlike the men that sat in various spots throughout the room.

It made you want to scream, the way they were all looking at you. “What?” You snapped, not talking to one of them in particular.

“Your hair,” Gaz said, breaking their silence.

You had nearly forgotten about your hair. It was one of the biggest physical marks your captors had left on you. It’s no wonder why Price wanted to talk to you about it.

You shrugged, “everyone gets grey hairs,” you said, looking from Gaz to the television. You couldn’t tell what was playing.

“Not like that,” Gaz answered.

His words made you flinch. After you had showered, you had to stop by your room to put on some clothes. You couldn’t remember the details of how you left it. You knew that it was normal to not remember such small details, but it still made you want to cry. You thought that changing into something more comfortable would make you feel better, but being in the room again with all of them, you felt naked.

Tomorrow, you would burn the clothes they brought you home in. And then, you didn’t know what you would do. You had to live day-by-day when you were captured, not knowing what the next day would bring. Looks like living that way would remain.

At the moment, all you wanted to do was sit down. Luckily there was an empty chair away from them. It only kept them physically away so you didn’t have to worry about one of them trying to wrap a comforting arm around your shoulder, but you still felt their gazes watch you closely as you sat down.

“What’re we watching?”

“Not sure, we just turned it on.”

His response helped a little. The fact that none of them recognized what was playing and not that you didn’t recognize it because you didn’t get to watch television for the better part of a year made you feel better.

When you folded yourself up into a ball and rested your head on your knees, the other men only kept on staring. You tried for a little bit to focus on the screen, to see if you could actually figure out what was playing, but it was hard to keep a steady mind.

“Will you all please stop staring,” you said, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“We missed you,” Gaz said.

You let out a long sigh and let your forehead thunk down onto your knees. You didn’t want to have this conversation, not tonight.

“How long did you look for me?”

“We’ve been looking up until we found you, but there were other things we also had to do,” Price responded.

“I’m not angry with you all, I know you had other missions. They didn’t hurt me that bad, really, the only scar they left was this,” you ran a hand through your hair.

Price held his hands up, “we’ll talk about it more when you’re ready.”

“And if I’m not? If I’ll never be?” You asked, feeling brave.

“Then that’s okay. Those men are gone, we’ll never let them hurt you again,” Price said, his words sure and concrete.

You glanced at each of them and watched as they nodded at you to prove their commander’s point.

“It suits you, you know,” Soap said from his spot on one of the couches. He let out an oof when Ghost slapped a hand onto his chest.

“Shut up, Soap,” you responded, a smile that you haven’t felt in a long time on your lips. You looked over at Ghost who was pulling his hand off Soap’s chest, a warm look in his eyes.

“We made some food for you while you were in the shower, whenever you want it,” Price said after standing up when a commercial break came on. He stopped on his walk to the door, stopping beside your chair, “it’s good to have you back soldier,” his words sounding nothing but sincere.

Your body still went tense when Price placed a hand on your shoulder, but you raised your hand and placed it on top of his, “it’s good to be back.”

#x male reader #task force 141 x male reader #john price x male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader #gaz x male reader

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atherix · 2 years

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Midnight Alley Missing Scene

Y’all wanted to see it so here we go :D

This isn’t included in Midnight Alley because it messes with the flow of the story and isn’t absolutely plot necessitated, but here we are!

CW: Manipulation, a bit of mind control (depending on how you define “mind control”), death, also uh mindbreak I guess-

The other camp isn’t hard to find. Whoever they are, they don’t seem overly concerned about keeping hidden; the light of the fire, even in the dying night, is like a beacon in the shadows.

Scar, of course, knows this trick.

He moves around, away from the obvious entrance of the camp where the light shines brightest. He moves silently, the trees and brush blocking him from sight as he takes in the camp before him.

Three people sit around a firepit, the smell of salted meat cooking over the open fire. There is a device set up, facing the wide open entrance of the camp, and when a Zombie stumbles into the camp it shoots off a number of arrows in fast succession, ripping the Zombie apart before it can even groan.

“Disappointing, just a Zombie,” one of the people says, tossing down a bone into the fire. It cracks and splinters quickly. “Was hopin’ it’d be that cute little Hybrid we saw earlier. Bet its horns would fetch a decent price.”

Anger and hatred flares up in Scar’s chest, and he regrets not letting Grian kill them now.

(It’s fine. He’ll do so much worse than that.)

He pulls his Fairy lights closer to himself, letting them shine just a little brighter, and steps into the clearing. “Well, hello there,” he says, and immediately all three strangers are on their feet, loaded crossbows pointing at Scar. He simply smiles, seeing how they freeze before they can even consider letting the arrows fly.

“Who are you?” one of them demands, though their gaze is solidly trapped on a Fairy light. A strong will, he notes. He’ll need to weave a stronger compulsion for that one.

“Well, I was passing by and saw your campfire,” he says easily, and even knowing that they have seen him already in his own camp, they are unable to even think for a moment that he might be lying. Human minds are awfully fragile like that. He steps closer, easily reaching over and lowering the crossbow one of the strangers holds- fingers barely brushing the end. He raises a brow at the person who stares at him with wide eyes.

They look almost enchanted. Scar can remember a handful of times he’s seen that expression aimed at him, but no other time has it made disgust and anger and hatred twist up in his chest like this.

(How dare this person, who so casually wished for his son’s death, look at him like this.)

However, such an expression tells Scar it’s an easy in; there is no emotion easier to manipulate than infatuation, no desire easier to twist than lust.

A man who hates another will never fully trust, but a man who loves another will hardly ever doubt. It’s the perfect recipe.

He smiles.

(He’s never done this before. It feels dirty and wrong, but it’s easy. He can see any resolve they have slip, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

He’s going to destroy them.)

“Perhaps you’d like to sit with us for breakfast?” the bandit suggests, and their companions- still struck by the Fairy lights- make a vague sound of discontent.

“Boss?” one of them utters, confused as the light in front of them flashes brighter. Whatever protest they had ready on their tongue dies before they can even form it.

“That sounds lovely,” Scar says, never breaking eye contact with the stronger-willed human. So caught up in his compulsions they don’t even notice his cold tone, his sharp gaze, the lies that lace his words- the hatred that burns in his eyes.

The other two lower their weapons and the leader gestures to the campfire, and Scar breezes by them. He takes a quick account of everything there- the arrow trap machine, the packs that a hint of gold poke out of, the mis-matched tools and bags that tell Scar they definitely did not belong to these people... a smaller backpack catches his eyes, the hand-sewn cat on it sending a wave of revulsion and anger burning through his entire being.

A child's bag.

These people know no limits.

"What are these lights?" One of them asks distantly, stumbling over the log lying by the fire as they steadfastly stare at his Fairy light. Scar turns to them, a smile verging on sneer curling his lips.

Two of them continue to stare at the Fairy lights, reaching out before pulling back quickly. The third- the 'boss'- watches only him, victim to an entirely different compulsion.

"It's nothing," he says, and in their stupors the bandits simply accept it.

"Your eyes are like gold," the leader says suddenly, hardly more than a mutter as they tilt their head at him.

"Yes," Scar agrees easily, because he can feel his magic buzzing under his skin- begging to lash out. His Fairy lights glimmer dangerously in time with his heartbeat.

He sits down now and the leader is quick to follow, dropping clumsily next to him. They offer him a strip of cured meat and Scar’s nose wrinkles at the scent, and he shakes his head. The bandit is quick to toss the meat aside and offer him a flask instead, pushing it into Scar’s hands in some semblance of polite hospitality that makes Scar’s stomach twist with disgust.

(He remembers, for a split second, the first time he met Mumbo in person. The reserved and hermitlike Vampire who had lost and lost so much, who was still so polite and kind and good despite it all. He remembers the light feeling in his chest when Mumbo smiled, the warmth of his touch when they shook hands- remembers how much he wanted as it lingered a second too long, how much he thought he couldn't have. He remembers those precious minutes before he pushed it all away.)

"What's your name?" The leader asks as their companions find their way to their seats, Fairy lights lingering in their laps. They stay silent now, unable to even think. "My name is Aaron."

"A pleasure," Scar lies, offering the bandit a dangerous smile. "Aaron, you say?"

A strange name for a bandit, he thinks, but the haze that falls like a veil over their face when he speaks tells him it's his real name.

How foolish.

"And your friends, Aaron?" he asks, leaning closer. The bandit watches him, oblivious to the way the fire flickers hotter than before.

"Jamie and Jones," the bandit answers without question, without hesitation.

"Jamie and Jones," he repeats, noting how the two in question sit up just a little straighter at the sound of their names. "Wonderful. Thank you."

"And your name?" The bandit repeats.

Scar chuckles. "You don't need it, Aaron," he says, and the other simply nods.

"Of course," they agree. Scar looks around at them, taking in their clothing and lack of sharp teeth, their rounded ears and long, bony fingers. Their fingernails are dirty and not sharp, cut short towards the bed.

"You're all human," he notes.

"Of course!" One of the others- Jones, he believes- proudly thumps a hand against their own chest, puffing up. Scar frowns. "Humans are the only true people, ya know!"

Scar tilts his head. "What does that mean, Jones?" He asks innocently.

"The humans were the first," Jones says. "Specifically, Peecy! Alex and Steve- what were they?"

"Peecy!" Jamie declares with a confident grin. "Hybrids and them sort'a things- they're just glorified beasts."

"So you're followers of the Old Book," Scar mutters, glancing between them. It makes sense, unfortunately- in the old days, when the Void was nothing more than a story and only one god walked the lands, back when there were no Testifica or Illager or Hybrids, no Natural or Supernatural...

Back when a Mob was nothing more than a Mob.

"The only right book," Aaron says, nodding sagely. "Of course someone of your caliber would understand such things, sweetheart."

"Don't-" Scar starts before catching himself. He breathes out and smiles.

(No matter what, he remembers, a prince must never wear his thoughts on his face.)

"Right," he says, because he refuses to agree even with lies on his tongue. Not that these three notice it's neither truth nor agreement- just an acknowledgement. "I believe I've heard enough, then."

These people would hurt Grian and Tubbo if given the chance. They'll hurt Mumbo if they realize what he is.

They would try to hurt Scar, if they weren't so heavily under his spell.

Humans are terribly fragile.

"Heard enough?" Aaron repeats, watching him. Scar stands up and turns to them, pulling his staff out as he does.

"You're dangerous and unforgivable," he says simply, trying not to glance towards the child's backpack lying on the ground. He twirls his staff and the Fairy lights brighten, and whatever protest the other two might have called dies in their throats as their vision is overwhelmed by gold.

Scar taps the end if his staff onto the ground between him and Aaron, who at last seems to realize they've been tricked- but not fast enough, as when they try to grab their sword a vine breaks through the ground, wrapping around their wrist and yanking down.

Aaron yells as they're dragged to the ground. "Sorcerer!" they get out before the vine crawls across their skin and blooms flowers and leaves, pressing against their mouth and silencing them.

Scar smiles coldly and kneels in front of them. He pushes his hair back behind his ear when the bandit's angry wide eyes turn up to him.

Even in this moment, that hint of desire still remains. A remnant of Scar's earlier compulsion, he knows- but he doesn’t need it anymore.

He has the bandit Aaron right where he needs them, and Jones and Jamie are in no condition to help.

"Maybe you should make sure you're speaking to another Human before you start saying such things," Scar says, his eyes flashing as the vines and flowers continue to grow. The bandit chokes and struggles but Scar's vines only pull them tighter to the earth.

Scar stands up straight again. "I was gonna just lead you three on a wild goose chase," he says, seemingly-amiable as he smiles dangerously. "But I think my Birdie was right, after all."

The Fairy lights grow ever brighter. "Jamie. Jones. Aaron. Farewell," he says flatly, watching as the haze consumes them. He watches the vines grow, pressing through their skin- blood prickling up around the blooms and thorns-

(Too far.)

Scar steps back, away from the three bandits- one being steadily cocooned with vines and two staring blankly ahead of themselves, no thoughts at all behind their eyes. He looks at them and feels nothing.

No guilt. No regret.

It’s not quick. Not merciful. It’s suffering and he’s not even slightly sorry.

(Is he any better than them, then?)

Scar’s gaze moves to the pile of bags, scanning over the fabric; some of them have suspicious red stains, some are torn and ripped, but Scar’s eyes stop on that child’s backpack once again.

They would have killed Tubbo, he thinks, and he turns around and walks away- leaving the vines to continue growing, spreading out from the body they consume and snake around the ankles of the broken people, to snuff out the fire, and before too long it grows into a thick bramble, blocking the clearing from sight.

Scar doesn’t return to camp until hours later, when everyone else is asleep.

(If a human loses their humanity, are they still human after all?)

#Atherix Writes #Midnight Series #Tumblr Exclusive #CW death #CW manipulation #CW mind control #<- kinda. Just in case #CW mindbreak #<- just in case again #Anyway the only time Scar notices people's interest is when he can weaponize it lmao

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harryforvogue · 7 months

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Part One | Chapter Nine: Another Man

Bellefonte, Pennsylvania

June 1919

Later that night, we depart in the hallway after dinner. Another tense dinner, with no conversation of eye contact between us. It's a good thing the food was good and I was hungry or I would have kicked his shin under the table until it bruised.

I send him off by shooting him a look and he answers by ignoring the look, focusing on entering and locking the door of his room. I stand by as a guard by his door for a moment to be there if he decides to have a change of heart and decide to sleep in my room, but after a minute of silence, I enter my own room and close the door behind me.

I stare at the empty space beside me on the bed, hand outstretched against it. I imagine his body, his warmth, his breath on my neck as I fall asleep.

***

The silence lasts only a few minutes as the door beside mine suddenly creaks open and I hear pacing outside my door. Raising my head, I catch the knock just in time. The knocks are more like thuds, like rocks falling onto the ground. They're fast and loud, no doubt disturbing the rest of the house. Every knock makes me jolt and I feel the pound against my heart like loud music does.

It could be Grace. The knocks sound very frantic so whoever is on the other side must be frightened. Maybe it's Grace who's had a nightmare, looking for comfort.

Padding over to the door, I slowly open it to reveal Harry. The sight is startling. His shirt is drenched with sweat, curls sticking to his forehead, chest heaving as his wild eyes take in my room, stepping into it without asking me. I stand to the side, stunned, letting him pace around like a predator searching for his prey.

"I heard something," he mutters, pale-faced, shakily running a hand through his hair. He finally turns to look at me. "Was there someone here?"

"No," I say, alarmed, heartbeat in my ears. I step forward, holding a hand out. "Harry. It's just me."

"Christ," he whispers, staggering to a stop. He slowly lowers himself to the edge of my mattress, running a hand tiredly over his face. "Annaliese. Who was here? Are you hurt? What are you doing awake?" He suddenly stands up again, reaching for my wrist. A moment passes and then he releases me, sitting back down.

Terrified by his appearance and aware of the weight of his hand lingering on my wrist, I wrap my arms around myself. "It's just me. I was about to fall asleep."

"You were about to fall asleep," he murmurs to himself, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck's sake. I thought you got hurt. I heard some shouting so I thought... fuck's sake."

Unsure why his anger is directed at me, I sit besides him and tentatively place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the sweat under my fingertip. He violently becomes aware of my hand on him because he shifts backwards and shoves my wrist away. The untamed eyes look at me darkly.

Hesitantly, I move back from him. "Sorry."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch me?" he snaps, standing up. "Fuck's sake, Annaliese. How many times have I told you? Do you deliberately choose not to listen to me? Do you want me to be angry at you constantly? I don't fucking understand you."

He's never spoken to me like that. I open my mouth to yell at him back and demand what his problem is, but when I take a step forward, he moves back, eyes filled with something different. It's not anger anymore. Fear.

I pull my hand into my lap. "Sorry. Do you...want some water?"

"No, I don't want any water."

He stands up and begins to pace.

Unsure what to say, I nod and glance away from his unfocused eyes, jaw tight. I move back onto the bed and fold my legs. His eyes follow me. Squirming under his gaze, I try my hardest to find another topic to talk about. The clock is ticking loudly.

A while later, I hear him audibly swallow before he sits back down on my bed besides my legs. He looks at the floor. "I had a nightmare," he tells me quietly. He tucks his curls behind his ears. "Thought it was real and coming from your room. The noise, I mean."

I simply nod, not wanting to inspire another outburst.

Harry sighs, dropping his shoulders. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He slides his hand cautiously closer to me, his pale hand against the dark sheets, the moonlight streaming directly onto the mattress as if it's a spotlight and this scene is a vital part from a play that must be scrutinized.

I move away from him before his fingers touch my ankle, causing his hand to stop moving promptly. "I'm alright."

"Okay," he says quietly. He makes no motion to move or depart from my room. I listen to the clock anxiously, hoping he leaves the room soon.

"Please don't cry," he says, glancing at me carefully.

I wipe my face with my sleeve. "I'm not crying. Please go to sleep."

"You want me to leave?" he asks.

"You're scaring me."

I can hear how my words affect him. "I'm scaring you," he repeats, frowning down at his lap. "Annaliese. I just wanted to check if you were alright. I was worried about you. Don't be upset with me."

"I'm not. Please go to sleep."

The bed's balance evens out when he stands up. I wait to hear his footsteps as he leaves the room, but to my horror, I only hear them advance closer to me. He stops in front of me and waits a moment, before muttering, "I'm sorry for scaring you. Could you stop crying?"

I sharply glance up at him. "Harry, it's okay."

His green eyes are clouded, his blinks slow as my words marinate in his head. "I'm apologizing, Annaliese."

"And I'm telling you it's alright." Please leave. Please please leave. "Go to sleep, Harry. I don't want this anymore."

His head snaps up. "Want what? Tell me, I'll fix it."

My eyes begin to sting treacherously. "Harry, please just go."

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you in my room. You won't let me touch you. You'll yell at me if I try to comfort you. I don't know what you want from me, so please, make it easier on both of us. Just go back and try to sleep. Or...or have a warm cup of milk. Or have a snack. Please just..." Leave.

A few seconds later, Harry looks away at the wall behind me and lets the words settle into his head. He nods faintly and then begins to walk to the door.

Before he leaves, he pauses and turns around. "Warm milk will help me?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he says, hand on the door. "I'll do that."

Without another word, he lowers his gaze to the floor and then turns, promptly leaving my room. When he shuts the door, left is just me and that loud clock.

***

The morning is awkward. Harry's avoiding me more than usual, sitting on the other side of the table rather than his usual place across from me. Even Grace feels the tension as she doesn't ask Harry too many questions about why he's so quiet.

I've spent too long thinking about that night. Should I have let him stay? He was hurting, but I turned him away. I shouldn't have done that.

Harry goes back to his room to take a nap. I don't end up saying anything.

***

Stepping outside immediately after breakfast is like a breath of fresh air. In New York, I'd leave the house for mornings only to head to work, but here I am going at my own volition into town. My hat is on my head, my outfit clean, and my head ready to be cleared. I say goodbye to Geraldine and Jared who have just roused, stumbling out of his bedroom, and then head back outside, vowing to return to pick up Grace for lunch.

Instead of wandering straight to town, I take a detour through the hills we all sat at yesterday, and I continue further until I'm by the line of trees that stand guard between this town and the next, more busy rural area. Twigs and sticks snap under my shoes as I duck under the branches of trees and conceal myself from both towns in this no man's land. The ground is soggy and mud sticks to my boots, but the sweet scent of sap and bark allure me and beckon me forward almost as if I'm in a trace. New York doesn't have these types of spots, or if they do, I have yet to discover them. It's a congested place with towering buildings and fast cars, the furthest thing it could be to my homeland. It's times like these where I catch a glimpse of the real countryside that I recall where I'm from and how dearly I miss it sometimes.

Moving to New York was a deal I made with Harry as he decided it was best to run away from his family, specifically his father, thinking an ocean between us would be the most effective way to cut off ties. It hasn't worked that well for us, in terms of staying put. I wonder if we'll have to move again.

I use the line of trees as my defense, letting them protect me as I continue to travel. The ends of my pants are getting wet, causing a cold shiver to run up my spine, but when I catch a glimpse of a small creek, I forget my discomfort and waddle eagerly over to it.

Creeks like these don't exist in New York. I put my purse down, crouch over, and scoop up some water, letting it run out between my fingers. I do it again, tightly closing my fists, watching the water escape through the cracks once more. The water is delightfully cold. I stick my hand in there for a moment to see how long I can last without caving. Only about forty seconds. It's that frigid. The temperature of the water grounds me, and I look back up, appreciating the scenery a bit more, sighing.

My reflection in the water swims in front of me. For the first time since arriving here, I am alone with the company of my own thoughts. As I glance around, I become terribly aware that I'm in a foreign state, in a foreign country away from my own, speaking a language that I've forced myself to learn to become a student in a separate country, and now I'm living with people I've only just met.

I frown deeply at my reflection. Then, I stand back up and continue walking to town, cleaning off my hand.

***

I return to the house to change my clothes and retrieve Grace. Geraldine informs me that the men have gone out for a walk themselves and it's funny that I didn't bump into them. I refrained from telling her that I went through the woods again to avoid people.

As I'm getting ready, I hear my door open, and see Harry enter. Through the mirror, I acknowledge him with a look, and resume brushing my hair gently.

"You didn't tell me where you were going this morning," he says awkwardly, shifting his weight to his other foot as he leans against my bedpost. "You have to tell me."

"And why's that?" I ask.

He frowns, gesturing vaguely with open arms as if it's an obvious answer. "Because I want to know where you are."

"We're in a random state, Harry. Do you think I would run away or something?"

"No," he says. "But just a heads up would be nice."

I put the brush down. "You were asleep."

"Could have woken me up."

"Harry, I'm fine. I'm taking Grace to town and then coming back so you'll know when to expect me."

He steps forward and sits on my bed, leaning in. "This isn't about me controlling you, Annaliese. I just would like to know where you are, for my own sanity."

"Your own sanity," I mutter, standing up, walking to the closest to pick out another shirt and skirt.

"Yes, my own sanity."

I briefly remember how Geraldine had told me that Harry's eyes found safety when I'd come into the room. The look on his face is stern and unmoving, though I can see the cracks in this facade. He's scared.

As the realization dawns on me, I nod. "I will tell you next time."

Harry wipes his hands anxiously on his pants. "Good. Good." He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping immediately. He does this a few more times. "We need to talk about last night."

"I don't want to talk about that right now."

"I don't know what you meant," he continues persistently, standing up. He sticks his hands in his pockets, green eyes watching me. "When you said you didn't want this anymore. What did you mean? I don't know what that means, so you're going to have to spell it out for me."

For a second, he looks like the Harry that I married. He looks at me nervously like how he did when he saw me walk down the aisle at our wedding. A man of steel nerves, it's impossible to make Harry nervous, though it seems like he's always on edge these days. He looks younger and less tired, more like a child awaiting praise from his mother or school teacher.

"It means," I find myself saying, aching to reach for him, "that I don't know how to talk to you and it worries me. When you get like that, I want to help you, but it's like you're not even Harry."

"I am Harry. That person is me, Annaliese. I was just scared." He hesitantly puts a hand over mine. It's cold, despite the summer heat.

"I know, but I wanted to help," I admit. "I don't know how to. I know it probably happens more than I realize. Just tell me so this marriage is a little more tolerable. For both of us."

A flicker of hope passes over his face. "This marriage," he repeats. "It still...exists, doesn't it?"

My eyebrows crease with worry. "Of course. What are you saying?"

"You have a choice," he says with a shake of his curly head. "I've been thinking about it, Annaliese. Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to keep you here against your will, though I feel like I'll want to if you ever decide to..." he trails off. "But I won't. If you want it, I'll allow it." His eyes are dark and his upper lip trembles. "I won't like it, but if you want it..."

My fists clench, nails digging into my palms. "God, I want to hit you so bad right now."

He takes a step back, eyes wide. "What?"

"It's nice to see that hasn't changed."

The thought of leaving Harry hits the bottom of my stomach like a stone. Despite my having no option in leaving, it's my love for him that keeps me in his binds as well.

"I don't want to leave you," I tell him, growing angrier. "I just want you to come back to me."

His eyes clear up, though the turmoil on his face stays. "I'm right here, Annaliese," he says tiredly. "I'm standing right in front of you. I'm speaking to you. What more do you want from me? How many times are we going to have this argument? We talked about this in Atlantic City. There are some things I just can't give you, and you have to respect that. I'm giving you what you want. Spending time with you, traveling with you, being your husband."

"You want me," I say slowly, "to be your wife and support you as I watch you hurt yourself."

"I'm not hurting, Annaliese," he sighs, sitting down on my bed again. "Please understand that. I'm not asking you to tend to me like you're my mother or asking for favors. I just want to exist in peace."

"Your mother? Harry, in what way am I asking to be your mother? You know me. You know the kind of wife I am!"

"I do know," Harry says tightly. "I know you always do things your way and I'm telling you I don't want that to change. Please, if you want to, leave me. I won't stop you." He looks to the floor. "If there's someone else you want, or if you want to go back to France. I will let you go. I will pay for it."

When he stops talking, the clock in the room is louder than ever. I am stunned at him voicing his thoughts.

"What? What did you just say?" I whisper in disbelief. "God, Harry, what the hell did you just say? Do you have any idea-!"

"I know what I said. I mean it. I've been thinking about it for some time. I want you to be happy so please consider it." Harry refuses to look at me. "Don't be mad, please."

Leave him? I've never even given thought to having a life without Harry in it. The longer I wait for him to say something, the more I realize I don't want him to say anything else.

"I am going to walk away," I say quietly, "before I say something I regret."

"Annaliese, think about what I'm saying." He grabs my wrist as I'm walking away from him, tugging me back firmly. "Listen to me. I'm serious. I will do it for you."

I want nothing more than to elbow him in the ribs and make him apologize, but I feel my throat closing up.

I force my arm out of his grasp and step away before he can catch me. "Do not," I hiss, "mention this to me ever again or I will make you wish you never said it."

Coming home after work to a man that's not Harry. Holding someone who is not Harry.

"Annaliese... Annaliese! Get back here!" Harry calls after me, but tears have formed in my eyes, not out of sadness, but anger. I'm angry at him for suggesting such a thing.

But as I continue to walk away from him, sadness fills my chest.

I'm a bad wife for walking away from him again, aren't I?

Loving someone who is not Harry.

Fighting with someone who is not Harry.

***

Harry doesn't leave me alone for too long. When I'm in the garden an hour later, Harry's there. He sits next to me and begins talking immediately, without waiting for a response or taking a breath.

"I'm an awful husband, I know. What I said was wrong, and my apology didn't come out right. Last night was completely my fault," he takes a deep breath. "I was scared. And that's not an excuse, but it's all I have for you right now. I didn't mean that I want you to leave. I'm saying that if you're unhappy, I don't want that. I care about you too much to see you have to suffer with me. I just want what's best for you."

The sun is beating down on me. I remove my hat and begin to fan my face."What about us?"

"For us? Annaliese, I don't think you're happy with me."

I don't reply. I don't know what to say to that. How do I tell him that my happiness should not be at the front of his thoughts right now? How do I tell him that I don't know how to help him without seeming like a bad wife myself.

Harry waits a few moments before sighing. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry."

Before he leaves, I grab his hand and push him back into the grass, glaring at him. I can't help but feel anger more than anything at him. I want to say something to him that will tear him like he tore me.

"I told you not to take your anger out on me again."

He blinks down at our hands. "I won't do it again. But...Annaliese, I can't even begin to explain how much anger I have inside me."

"Then tell me what to change to stop bringing that anger out. What am I doing wrong? Tell me!"

"It's not you! Christ. I've told you that before, haven't I? I wish I could tell you. It's like..." he looks over the hill, searching for words as if he'll find them there. "It's like there's static in my head and it's all I hear all day and it irritates me so I lash out." He squeezes my hand and leans in. "You know I'm not like this. I used to be so good. And this anger I feel isn't at you. It's anger at myself. What I've done."

"You've done nothing wrong," I say firmly. "You have done nothing wrong in your life."

Harry's eyes darken as he shakes his head, looking away. "The things I saw," he says slowly, closing his eyes. "I wouldn't... God, I wouldn't be able to explain the things I've done. It was all survival. Things I've done to people who look like you and me. Who had families. I..." he trails off, taking a sharp breath. "Annaliese, I try so hard, every single day and night to avoid thinking about it. Please, don't make me talk about it. I'll remember and I'll get angry and I'll hurt you. Don't push me."

"So if you won't talk to me, who will you talk to?"

"I don't have to talk to anyone. I will one day forget all that happened. All the pain I've caused." He looks at the sunset. "And then we'll be okay."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "When do you suppose that will be?"

"I don't know, but I hope soon. I'm losing my fucking mind being in this body." His hands begin to tremble. "If you knew what I've done, Annaliese." He glances at me, eyes shimmering, voice breaking off. "You'd pack up and leave. Right now. You'd march into that house, throw my ring away and walk out of my life and you know what I'd do?" He clicks his tongue. "Nothing. I would watch you leave and be envious that you get to leave me and I don't."

"Jesus, Harry."

"Do you understand," he strains, "that you're all I have right now?" He presses a palm to his eye.

"And do you understand that you're all I have? Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm not!"

"So stop suggesting it, you idiot!"

Harry sighs and watches Grace, who's come outside, for a few seconds, jaw tight and expression unreadable. "I'm trying. I think I just need some space."

"Space," I repeat, plucking some grass. "More space than I've been giving you? How do I know you'll come back to me?"

"I'm your husband. Of course I'd come back."

"Sometimes people don't come back," I say.

Alarmed, he turns to me. "I'm not going to hurt myself. I have that much respect for you."

I glance at him. "And what about for yourself? For your body?"

He gives me a wry look. "Annaliese, I could care less about what happens to this body. The issue isn't that. It's my soul that belongs to you. I'd never do anything to my soul."

"Your soul and your body both belong to me."

Harry's eyes soften the slightest bit. "That's true. I won't hurt either, for your sake."

I rise to my knees. "If you hurt yourself, Styles, I will kill you. If you die on me, I will kill you, do you understand?" I say, holding his collar. "Don't think that I won't."

He watches me, startled, and puts his hands on mine, prying them off his collar. "I won't do anything, for your sake."

"And for yours! How do I know I won't find you...gone...after I've gone out for a drink with my friends?"

Harry smiles for half a second, causing my heart to begin hammering. "Because you'll kill me if I die on you."

"Exactly. And... and I'd bloody miss you."

He doesn't say anything for a minute. He speaks again as if he's telling me a secret, too afraid to say it with his full voice. "I'd miss you too. I miss having you in my bed, in my arms, everywhere. I miss it every second of the day. But I just...can't do that. I thought of you lying with someone like me..."

"A regular man," I argue.

"No," he insists dryly. "I am not any ordinary man. I'm riddled with guilt. I wouldn't let you touch me and be soiled by it."

Grace runs by with some grass in her hand. She waves at us and then heads back to the house. When he leaves, we begin talking again.

I say, "So all this time, it was about you not wanting to ruin me."

He gives me another half smile. "I told you the problem was me. How could I live with myself after ruining such a person? The guilt I'd feel. The anger. I'm afraid I'd hurt you."

"You could never hurt me."

"Annaliese, you don't think I see how badly you're hurting right now? I wish I could do something to help, but it all requires my touch and I can't do that. This trip is supposed to help you as well as help me. I'm trying in that regard but, please, don't push me to do something I'm not comfortable with. I've been hurting you for months. You don't think I realize it? I hear you crying, Annaliese. And while you cry, I just pray that you find comfort in something else besides me."

I freeze, my body suddenly cold and aching. I side eye him, throwing him a warning look. "Don't tell me you're saying what I think you're saying. We just talked about this, you prick! I will claw your eyes out if you say so much as one more word."

He says it anyways. "Another man could make you happier."

Frustrated, I push my palms against his shoulders and shove him into the grass angrily. "You asshole! Don't you ever fucking say that to me again."

He grabs my relentless arms, alarmed. "Stop, Annaliese."

"You say that to me again and I'll remind you who you're married to!"

"Annaliese. Okay. I'm sorry." He's trying to dodge my blows. "Annaliese!"

I break myself from his grasp and stand up, pushing the hair out of my face angrily. "Thin fucking ice, Styles," I growl, taking deep breaths. "You're on thin ice. Now get up, I want to go back inside."

Are these the conversations we're going to have now? I think to myself as we walk back inside, scared. I don't want that.

#this one got a kick to it wtf

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iamsherlocked-1998 · 9 months

Text

Cold is a phase (just one more step).

A bad moment in a bounty is turning in something more.

Warning: Description of wounds and some violence, effects of the cold, otherwise just something soft, hugs, festivities of the time.

Words: 860

═══════ ≫ ♥ ≪ ═ ≫ ♥ ≪ ════════

Things didn't have to go that way, the reward was not supposed to be on that planet, it was a quiet, secluded and quite cold place at this time of year. The festive lights of the town reflected on your companion's silver armor, creating a beautiful sight. Your little group of three just wanted to have a few days off before the next job but then everything went wrong.

After recognizing the Mandalorian armor, the undesirable attacked you. When saw that was outnumbered, he ran through the snow. You secured the child's capsule and chased him. He didn't have many options and everything seemed to be close to ending but he took advantage of an oversight, using a knife to tear your leg. Mando did not take long to act, shooting accurately.

Din used a piece of torn cloth from his cloak to prevent you from losing more blood, you moved leaning on him until saw a small cabin where could take shelter. You sat down in the first chair you could, trying to even out your breathing. The Mandalorian was using fire from a stray candle on a knife blade and gathering the few supplies you had.

By then Grogu was outside, next to you, watching with concern. You smiled sadly.

-Honey, I appreciate you trying to help but it's not that big of a deal, you're already quite tired from the cold, we need you strong.

Djarin held the little boy with one hand, placing soothing touches on his back and returned him to the capsule. The man turned towards you, noticed how his voice trembled a little.

-Okay, you can hold my shoulder in the meantime, this is going to be painful.

You did as he asked as the burning surface came into contact with your wound to cauterize it, you clenched your teeth to stop yourself from screaming, sounding like a pitiful moan, luckily the sensation didn't last long.

-I'm sorry, I know, I know...(your Mandalorian whispered softly).

He started using a kind of disinfectant substance, which was even a relief.

-You said you knew the traditions here, can you tell me more?

At first thought you were having some kind of breakdown since it was strange for a person as practical as your partner to bring up a topic like that at this moment, but you understood that he was trying to distract you.

-Well (you bit your lip) my parents taught them to me, we used to sit around my father and he would tell us mythological legends, I would like to read them again but never found the book, it is very old...

You talked for a while longer until your wound was improvisedly healed and bandaged. You placed yourself on the ground since there wasn't much else available.

Mando let the little one out who immediately snuggled up to you, falling asleep instantly, meanwhile he had found a fireplace and some pieces of wood that he quickly lit to warm you up. There were also a few pairs of old clothes, which was useful since your pants are torn, they weren't as warm as you'd expect but would have to do. It seemed like whoever lived here just left, leaving everything behind.

Your partner noticed you holding your hand and slowly stroking it in annoyance, shifting under the oversized borrowed blanket were using.

-Something happens?

-No, it's just the cold, but it's okay.

-Let me see...

He took off your gloves to see the skin starting to crack slightly.

-They are too thin, your gloves, use mine.

-Din, I can't ask you that.

-Listen to me, I'll be fine.

Then he proceeded to take them off, revealing hands that were worked on but much smoother than you imagined. But what surprised you the most was a small circle drawn on the side, in the shape of a target, next to the thumb, that made you ask yourself many more questions about the man, you never thought he would have tattoos, despite the time you have been together he was always astonishing. You couldn't stop looking at it.

The man seemed to notice and moved, as if he hadn't noticed what he was doing. His hands always intrigued you, they were big and strong, precise. In the time you knew each other you became very close, you wanted to believe almost like family, but the only glimpse of his skin was those times when you helped him with an ugly wound. Silence settled.

-Can I ask when... Did you do it? (You never knew how to just be and shut up).

-I... (the bounty hunter was doubtful) was very young, so long ago that barely remember, it was the first time I used a blaster and the shape seemed appropriate to me. Now is silly.

Your smile widened, imagining it was tender to you.

-Looks Good.

The hunter simply nodded, but he got rid of his right shoulder pad, which you took advantage of to gently support yourself until sleep overcame in the comfortable light of fire.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin & grogu #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you

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druidx · 4 months

Text

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 21

CW: Injury, blood AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The Kass-whatever-the-hell-it-was-called has apparently not given chase. There's no crashing in the undergrowth but her. It's odd, she thinks; she feels certain that it could have hunted her down if it wanted to… But then she is stumbling out of the bushes and crawling through a hole in the chicken-wire fence and onto a brick-laid alley at the back of City Hall. And, gods above, she wants to stop and take a breather, but the other fairytale creature is jostling her upright with cajoling words about not dying in the gutter like a rat. It feels like it takes ages for the creature's words to seep through the pain and reach some survivalist part of her mind, and anyway, she's distracted by the thing. It has dark brown skin like hers, but some kind of condition makes it appear in whorls and ridges that seem familiar but she can't place it right now. It has mottled green hair and is dressed in a short green tunic of soft-looking cloth, clinched at the waist by a wide leather belt. "What are you?" she asks it. 🙢Alas, there is not the time to explain,🙡 it says, as it shoves her to her feet. "Do you have a name?" 🙢Willowsprout, Atnešė,🙡 it says. Legnok slings her arm over its shoulders and hauls her upright. Between the two of them, they drag her towards the corner of the alley, to where the light from City Hall spills onto the crowd milling in quiet panic, surrounded by cop cars and blood wagons. «Youse think you can make it on your own from here?» Legnok says. «Only, we's gotta skedaddle now.» 🙢Apologies, you'll have to manage from here,🙡 says Willowsprout. 🙢We can't let the twicelings see us.🙡 "Yeah," Elo says. "Sure. I'll manage." The two creatures melt into the shadows. «Remember your promise!» says Legnok. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbles. "I see either of you again, I'll buy you more than a cup of joe. A beer for each. Blood, bark, bond, et cetera."

And then she is stumbling into the edge of the crowd, and someone cries out at the sight of her. "Sergeant O'Toreguarde," she says, with a hiccup. "Checking in."

She sways on her feet, and someone is calling for a medic and someone else is practically carrying her to a bench and someone is trying to ask her what the hell happened to her. "Sniper," she says, because even in her own head that is more sensible than a giant man made of shadow with an incomprehensible name wielding a massive sword made of ice. "Got away," she adds, because otherwise people might start assuming she got whoever fired those shots and demand to see a corpse because no one in their right mind would let a sniper get away with shooting into a crowd of the most highly decorated and influential people in her city without some retribution. And then the crowd of people milling around her is swiftly moving to the side and she thinks she's seeing triple, because there are three large, angry-looking gentlemen bearing down on her – though when Strucker got here, and why Clayrmantle is shorter she doesn't understand – and they are all talking over each other in their morbid excitement and she cannot think and they are so loud and for all their loudness she cannot hear what they are saying and "SHUT! UP!" There is almost instant silence, and it ripples out from her in a wave as everyone in the whole damn plaza is suddenly very quiet. "You three– Just hush for a moment," she tells them. "I can't answer your ninety-mile-an-hour questions if you keep jabbering over each other. You're supposed to be rulers, not over-excited puppies, now bloody act like it and shut up so I can speak." She pulls in a breath, winces at the pain in her side, and lets it out again. "I'm fine. Well. I'm not fine. I've been cut. He had a sword. But I'm mostly fine. Despite the fact I'm wearing a stupid, nonsensical, now ruined, dress, I'm mostly fine. I went back to help with evac, lost my footing and fell off the terrace. Which is stupid, I know, but I nearly ate a bullet, and it saved my life, so, there's that. But I interrupted the sniper fleeing, and he didn't like that, so we had a bit of a tussle, and he stabbed me, and got away. I'm sorry, I screwed up, I should have waited for backup, I wasn't thinking. But I'm here and I'm still alive and fine. Mostly." She stops, thinks for a moment. "Could someone get me a very large glass of rum?" And then, despite her hurts, somehow she is being embraced by all three of them. She squeals as the pain in her side shoots through her again. "Alright, get away from her you feckless beasties," Merri is saying, and physically pulls Strucker away followed by Clayrmantle. She is a little more deferential to her king, but not by much, tapping him heavily on the shoulder and ordering him away a second time.

Then Merri is knelt next to the bench, a med kit out and something cold and alcoholic and oh dear fuck that burns, and Elo thought they were friends is being swiped over the rent in her flesh. She grits her teeth, eyes screwed tight, and yells as Merri repeats the activity, the cold stinging swipe getting less with each pass. Then something warm and dry is being pressed to the wound. "Andersen! Check if one of those ambulances is free, aye? Strucker, put pressure on this," Merri demands, as the medic wraps a bandage around Elo's waist, holding the dressing in place. Elo keeps her eyes closed – she cannot look, but this has happened enough times to either herself or one of their teammates in the Special Forces that she doesn't need to look, she knows exactly the procedure that Merri is following. When Merri sits back and puts a tired hand on Elo's knee, Elo takes a breath and marvels at her friend's quick work. "You need to go to hospital, cridhe," Merri says, accent thickening in worry. "This is just a patch-job, you understand? It needs stitches and a proper clean." Johan plucks a leaf out of Elo's hair. "All of her needs a proper clean." And Elo's best friend in the whole world squints up at her, a snarky grin on her face, and says, "We could dip her in a canal. Quickest and easiest way to get all that muck off her, eh?" Elo tries to snort a laugh but the action sends sparks of pain through her. "Easy, easy," Merri cautions, even as she's grinning unrepentantly. She runs her hands over Elo's frame. "Mer!" Elo says, mock scandalised. "Your betrothed is around here somewhere." Even if her tone is teasing, Elo can't quite fight down the flush in her cheeks. "Oh, shush. I'm checking you for more wounds. What's this?" Merri's hand has come away tacky from Elo's arm. "I dunno." Then Elo remembers. "I got bit by something?" Merri is back with that cold and stinging alcohol, swabbing the area. Then she gasps and swears in Icelandic. "You got bit by a fucking bullet. Thor's balls, you're lucky."

"What about everyone else?" Elo manages, after Merri has finished dealing with the scrape left by the bullet that nearly killed the King. She hasn't seen Yoruk or the Exchequer; while she's more worried about Yoruk, she has to at least pretend to be concerned about one of the Triumvirate. The light is hazy and too bright, she's inches away from falling asleep right on the bench, but she still has to know. "Your Acting Magister there, he caught a shot to the leg, but the bullet didn't do much damage. There were a few lacerations from falling glass, bruises and sprains from people fleeing and fighting each other in their haste, but aside from that, no. You're the only one who's taken any bad damage." "Good," is all Elo can think to say. "And when you're more lucid," Merri's voice drops to a dangerous growl, "you are going to get a refresher on how one performs close personal protection, and the correct procedures to follow during a sniper shooting." Elo giggles. She can't help herself. The titter comes out before she can stop it, and this time it won't be tamped down. "I knew this would happen," Elo says, gasping her laughter. "Y'all're gonna have to take a number." Merri gives her a confused glare. "Make an appointment, y'know?" "Appointments– What?" "So y'all get your chance to yell at me. Gotta have a booking slot, make it nice and orderly." Elo cackles again, clears her throat and tries to sound serious. "It'll have to be first come first serve, I won't make preference for rank or title." The pretence doesn't last long as she dissolves into hiccuping giggles. Merri stares, frowning, mouth agape. Then her eyes squeeze shut and she gives an incredulous shake of the head, following it up by yelling, "Anderssen! Where the fuck is my ambulance?" Elo's eyes snap open. "What, no, I'm not going–" "The fuck you're not. Did you not hear me? You need more than field medicine." "–I'm on duty." Storri turns sharply. "You're relieved, Sargent." "But–" Johan crouches down in front of her, gently touches her cheek until she's staring into those cloudy blue depths. "You're going to the hospital. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I will sling you over my shoulder if I have to, but you are going." Merri, she notices, has courageously abandoned her to being bullied by these leaders of, of – men, dwarves and elves – people. People! Just people, nothing else. Bloody fairy stories. "Elo, are you listening to me? I have lost one daughter this week to some greater cosmic accident and I will not lose another through stubbornness and thick-headedness. Do I make myself clear, young lady? I have lost my Evelyn. I will not lose my Elowyn too." And that's it. Elo's eyes mist up and the tears start dripping down her face and Johan's arms are around her as she quietly sobs into his shoulder.

#oc elowyn o'toreguarde #npc johan strucker #pc meredith gruksdottir #writing #HCWL Chapters only #WIP 'Her Countenance was Light'#titan fighting fantasy #fighting fantasy #ttrpg fanfiction #wandering words

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callsign-bunnie · 2 years

Text

First Meeting (Soap’s POV)

The zombie apocalypse went by rather quickly. Those who were immune survived, most of the rest died, in only a couple of months. Now, two years later, everyone is either “immune” or unknown. Of course, the only way to find out is to be bitten. Society will rebuild itself. Someday.

The same meeting but this time from Soap’s perspective.

Ghost had told Soap about a friend he needed to meet up with. He’d seemed to reluctantly drag Soap along, but Soap was grateful. He’d managed to survive just fine before but Ghost seemed multitudes more capable than Soap and Soap was grateful to have someone to cover his back.

That was, until they’d been rushing to escape a building and in the process, a door with a broken hinge slammed on his arm, breaking it. It’d taken out his non-dominant arm, thankfully, but it still made it harder to shoot.

So, now, they were looking for somewhere to find supplies and rest so Soap could get his arm fixed. They’d planned to stop in the next town, but it’d reached night time and this town was packed with zombies. So, they’d made a proactive decision to stop here.

Soap stayed close behind Ghost, making sure no zombies attacked them. They raced to the closest building. Soap was a little taken back upon the sight of the building. On the doors were four still moving zombies, biters from the looks of it. They were duct taped to the doors, and their arms were ripped off.

Soap gagged a little, wondering what kind of crazy bastard had done this. It must have been efficient, though. Ghost wrenched open the door to the building. It looked like a convenience store, similar to a Walgreens.

Soap ran through the door, first. They weren’t at any real risk, most of the zombies seemed to ignore the building, likely due to the four biters on the door. “Jesus Christ, what weirdo did we find??” He asked once Ghost was in the door.

“Shut up. They could still be in here.” Ghost hissed, shutting the door.

Soap rolled his eyes. He was confident they’d be dead already if they were. “Doubtful.” He sighed. But, he wanted to eat his words when he saw Ghost suddenly tense and point his gun behind Soap.

“Don’t fucking move.” He heard from behind him. He frowned, the voice did not match the words. It was softer, a bit small. The accent was unsurprising. Mexican, they were in Mexico. Probably was speaking English since they’d heard Ghost and Soap speak.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Soap offered, since he knew Ghost wouldn’t.

“Then leave.”

“We can’t do that.” Ghost sighed, tensing just a little more. Soap closed his eyes, having a feeling the gun was pointed at him. Ghost would have just shot whoever it was, otherwise. “You’re Mexican Special Forces?”

Soap frowned and opened his eyes. Mexican Special Forces? They still existed? The military had all but dissolved, they had thought.

“Was.” The voice seemed nonchalant.

Soap frowned more and went to turn, stopping immediately when the voice ordered, “don’t move!”

“I’m not!” Soap reassured, even though he definitely was. “Look, we’re British Special Forces. Kind of. I’m retired.” He explained, hoping maybe they’d calm down if they saw they were similar.

“What the fuck is British Special Forces doing in Mexico??”

Ghost seemed to tense again. Fuck, they really needed to get whoever this was to calm down. “It’s a long story. Just… put your gun down, Ghost will do the same-”

He was cut off by the voice. “Ghost? …I expected more.”

Ghost sighed. Soap frowned, confused how they had heard of him. “They all do.” Ghost started to lower his weapon so Soap turned around, finally, assuming it was safe.

He blinked at the sight he was met with. The voice definitely matched the person, which wasn’t common in Soap’s experience. The man couldn’t be much shorter than Soap but he had soft features, though they were hardened towards them. They were slim but not thin. They could clearly use force if they needed it, though Soap doubted they could move nearly the same weight Ghost could. And their gun was pointed right at Soap.

Soap took a breath. “We’re not here for trouble. We can help each other.”

“Yeah, in my experience, Gringos don’t help shit.” The man glared at them.

Soap went to retort but another voice came from behind the man. “Rodolfo! Dejarlos entrar.” This voice was a lot deeper, rougher. It sounded strained.

“¡Ellos podrían matarnos!” The man, or Rodolfo, called back to the voice, not faltering or lowering his weapon.

Soap frowned, deeply. No wonder he seemed so tense, there must have been a second person, and from the sound of their voice, they were likely injured. “There’s another?” Soap asked, taking a step forward without thinking, though he quickly stopped when he saw the gun’s laser turn on.

The angle of it implied that Soap was going to be talking out of his neck if he wasn’t careful.

“If you take one more step…” Rodolfo warned.

“Look, Rodolfo, right?” Soap tried to make his voice soothing, figuring they were probably stressed. “We’re not here to hurt you, we just want to help. Is the other one injured?”

Rodolfo’s expression hardened completely, however, just as Soap was starting to think maybe a soothing tone was the worst idea, the voice in the back called again. “Rodolfo!”

“¡Mierda!” Rodolfo growled. Or… it sounded like he tried to since his voice just did not have the capability for that. However, Soap recognized that word. “Fine!” He finally lowered his weapon.

Soap relaxed, glancing to Ghost who also seemed relieved. “I’m Soap.”

Rodolfo laughed and Soap managed to relax completely. Laughing was good. “Soap??”

“Yeah,” Soap grinned, “it’s a ridiculous name, but it’s mine.”

Rodolfo shook his head. “Leave your weapons on a shelf.” Rodolfo pointed to a shelf that was empty.

Soap shared a glance with Ghost, who looked irritated. But, they both did as told. Soap really didn’t want to risk getting shot. And Rodolfo’s tone said they didn’t have a choice. Once they were relieved of their weapons, they followed Rodolfo to the back.

Rodolfo slid between two shelves and Soap followed him. One was broken, creating a narrow triangle that left a small angle for zombies to try to get through if they managed to make it inside. Smart.

Of course, it left no exit point.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Rodolfo asked Soap, while Ghost slid between the triangle.

Soap winced. “I smashed it in a door. Was trying to get away from some biters.”

“I can get it fixed up.” Rodolfo offered as he heaved open the door to what looked like a manager’s office. It looked heavy but Soap didn’t want to risk offending him by offering help. From the way Ghost didn’t move, he likely had the same idea.

“Gringos. Uno está herido. Brazo roto.” Rodolfo told, whoever was in the room.

Soap followed him in, frowning at the sight they were greeted with. The other voice belonged to a man who, in other circumstances, Soap was sure looked commanding. But now… he was clearly severely injured. Discarded military gear rested near what looked like a makeshift cot, and he was propped up against the wall, holding his arm over his stomach.

He had just a white tanktop on, and it had a giant dried blood stain on it.

However, he was smiling, however strained it was. “Please forgive my second in command. He’s… high strung.” Soap did not miss the glare Rodolfo gave the man. It didn’t have the same coldness that Rodolfo had given them, though. “I’m Alejandro Vargas.”

Rodolfo crouched, moving Alejandro’s shirt.

“Fuck.” Soap winced, taking in the sight of the very grizzly looking wound, even though it was still bandaged. When Rodolfo unwrapped it, Soap felt like gagging. It was awful looking. “What happened to you?”

Alejandro chuckled, though it was clearly pained. “I fell, landed right on a spike. Probably meant for the zombies. It went all the way through. Barely survived. Well, more like surviving, it’s probably the end of the line.”

“No empieces. He’s fine, I just… can’t carry him.” Rodolfo sighed. Soap picked up the much softer tone Rodolfo used with Alejandro. He frowned as Rodolfo and Alejandro seemed to share a glance before Rodolfo continued to quickly clean the wound.

Soap shared his own glance with Ghost, who seemed grave. “Why not just leave him and go get help?”

Soap stared at Ghost before lightly hitting his arm. That was beyond stupid to ask! Thankfully, though, Rodolfo didn’t seem offended. “Because he’ll kill himself.” He glared at Alejandro again.

“I’m dead weight at this point.” Alejandro shrugged, not seeming fazed. This seemed to be a recurring argument.

Rodolfo finished rebandaging Alejandro, who relaxed, and then he stood, turning to face Soap and Ghost again, “leaving him isn’t an option.” Rodolfo sighed. “He’s the leader of the Los Vaqueros. We provide aid to the nearby survivor encampments and gather and disperse supplies. We were… on a supply run when this happened.”

Soap nodded in understanding. “And you have medical knowledge?” It was less a question, more of a statement of fact, since it was clear Rodolfo knew what he was doing.

“Everything but a license to practice.” Rodolfo nodded. “Had to learn. Where is your arm broken?” He asked as he pulled a chair out from the desk on the other side of the room.

Soap sat in it, gesturing to where the most pain was. He tried not to wince as Rodolfo felt over it, unsure of the consequences of startling the man. He didn’t have his gun, but Soap could make out several knives on him, so he decided the smartest option was to be as still as possible.

“It’s clean, likely just a snap.” Rodolfo murmured, seeming to relax. Soap did relax, that was good. Rodolfo turned to Ghost. “There should be ace bandaging and a sling in the pharmacy. I have everything else I need here.”

Soap was impressed by the ability Rodolfo had to make orders without directly making an order. Ghost did what was told, immediately. Soap frowned. Rodolfo must have had a lot of practice having to sound gentle while firm.

Rodolfo was silent while he splinted and wrapped Soap’s arm, which Soap was glad for because then he could focus on being as silent and still as possible, really not wanting to startle him. Thankfully, he finished before Ghost returned and Soap finally relaxed.

Ghost handed Rodolfo the things he had grabbed and Rodolfo quickly finished. Soap was grateful for the help getting into the sling since it was kind of painful. He’d had a lot of experience wearing those.

“Was pretty lucky you found a convenience store.” Ghost commented. Soap nodded in agreement.

“We thought the same,” Alejandro answered. Soap frowned. He looked kind of pale, exhausted. There was no way he was surviving this, and that worried Soap. Rodolfo seemed a little unstable.

They needed to help them. Maybe if they managed to get them back to their base, they might be willing to give them some supplies so they could make it to Ghost’s friend.

“I have a Sniper’s nest on the roof.” Rodolfo said, turning to Ghost. Soap took the opportunity to cringe with pain, biting his good fist. “We have a way out but… again, I cannot carry Alejandro.”

“How heavy are you?” Ghost was probably addressing Alejandro.

“Fuck, I don’t know. Definitely less than you.” Well, Alejandro answered all the same.

“How good is your aim?” Ghost asked. Soap finally paid attention, noting that Ghost was looking at Rodolfo.

“I could show you in the morning. It’s easier than explaining.” Rodolfo shrugged.

Ghost sighed. “Soap, can I talk to you, outside?”

Soap winced and then sighed, getting up and following him out. They slipped through the triangle again and Ghost sighed, turning to him. “Vargas will not survive us dragging him back to their base.”

Soap sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Ghost, they need help. We have to go through Las Almas, anyway, to reach your friend. It puts maybe a week in our plans.” He knew they’d need supplies again. Maybe they’d be willing to even let them take a truck.

“This is dangerous. And stupid.” Ghost’s voice was low, dark. Soap had to admit it intimidated him. “Maybe if we could convince Rodolfo to leave Vargas behind, but he’s made it clear he won’t.”

Soap still wanted to try. “Ghost, please… They need help.”

Ghost stared at him for a moment before sighing loudly. “Fuckin Hell, Johnny. Fine. We’ll stay and help them.”

Soap grinned and immediately went to the back again. “Alright, we’re gonna help you. Ghost can carry Alejandro, and I can help Rodolfo cover them both.”

“No.” Soap frowned as Rodolfo immediately shook his head.

“Rodolfo…” Alejandro sighed. He shifted a little, now considerably more pale than before.

“No.” Rodolfo reiterated. “We don’t need your help. Your arm is broken, how the fuck are you gonna be able to fight anything?” He asked Soap, who frowned.

“I can shoot a gun, still. It’ll be more difficult, but if we get in a bind, I can shoot.” He wasn’t gonna be that great of a shot, but biters were easy targets and that seemed to be a majority of the crowd in this town. But, he tried a different angle, even though it was clear Rodolfo didn’t call the shots. “You clearly need help. And I don’t think you’re in a position to turn it down.”

But, Rodolfo only shook his head again. “No.”

“Rodolfo!” Alejandro almost barked. He sounded fed up. “Están ofreciendo ayuda. Lo estamos tomando.”

Whatever he said pissed Rodolfo off, because he was grabbing his gun, almost slamming into them as he left the room, despite Alejandro calling for him again.

Soap looked kind of awkwardly at Alejandro, who just sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Please forgive him. He wasn’t always like this.”

“He doesn’t trust us.” Ghost said, simply. “I don’t blame him. The feeling is mutual.”

Soap glared at Ghost. He really needed to stop saying such inflammatory things.

Alejandro laughed, though, and Soap relaxed. “No, he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust anyone but me and our men. Even there, it’s limited. The beginning of this was… hard on us all. Him especially.”

Soap snorted. “Hard is an understatement.” He went back to the desk chair, exhausted. “This place seems relatively untouched.” He commented.

Ghost sat on the floor against the wall. Soap knew, even though he was clearly trying to hide it, that Ghost was likely just as exhausted. They had been going for nearly 24 hours, if he had to guess. Both were practically dead on their feet.

Alejandro nodded. “Yes, this town was one of the first places to get hit. It’s a smallish, practically unknown, town, so no one but us comes here. It’s too dangerous unless you have the proper gear, as you’ve seen. I guess… we got cocky.”

Ghost seemed to snort and nod. “Cocky.” Soap tensed again.

Alejandro chuckled and Soap relaxed. “I got cocky. Rodolfo was apprehensive from the start. Probably another reason he’s so irritated with me.”

“How long have you known each other?” Soap asked, guessing it had to be a while. They talked to each other like more than co-officers.

Alejandro sighed. “Hang on, I have to count.” He used his fingers. “26 years.”

Soap whistled, not expecting that high of a number. “Wow.”

Alejandro chuckled. “Yep. We’ve been childhood friends. Met each other when we were 6 years old.”

“You’re only 32??” Soap frowned, surprised. Alejandro didn’t look old but if he was leader of the Los Vaqueros, an old military unit, Soap knew he'd have to at least be Colonel.

“Yes, I was… gifted the Los Vaqueros young. 26 years old.” Alejandro sighed, looking exhausted. Soap shared a glance with Ghost, who just shrugged, not looking surprised. “I was the only one willing to take the job. Actually, it was offered to Rodolfo first but… He wouldn’t even be in the military if not for me. So he turned it down. And they offered it to me instead.”

“You were second choice?” Ghost asked. Soap was going to kill Ghost, himself.

“Yes, essentially.” Alejandro smiled. “Rodolfo is much better with the more official side of things. When he has to be. Or had to be. We don’t really do any of that, now. We just help where we can, now.”

Soap nodded. “It’s honorable.”

“It’s duty.” Alejandro shrugged. “The people of Las Almas need us. We cannot abandon them.”

Soap smiled. It sounded like Alejandro cared about Las Almas. “Well, you need us. And we’re not going to abandon you, either.”

“No. Rodolfo needs you. I’m not getting out of this.” Alejandro sat up a little more. “I was hoping you might help me with that. Look, he’s not going to leave me here without being convinced. If one of you could convince him-”

Ghost started to laugh. Soap frowned and turned to him. He’d never heard Ghost laugh before. “Look, Vargas? That’s not happening.” Ghost shook his head, also sitting up. “Maybe you’re blind to how unstable your second in command is, but he’s clearly two steps from snapping. I am confident your death covers 5, at least. Now, I’m not afraid of him, but I’m smart enough to know that letting you die, or leaving you behind, is a one way ticket to his shit list. A list I think I’d like to avoid being on.”

Alejandro seemed almost surprised before sighing, shaking his head. “You’re right.” He muttered.

Soap sighed. “We’re getting you both out of here.” He assured.

“We need a plan.” Alejandro conceded.

Ghost seemed to consider. “Tomorrow, I’ll scout through town. I can travel across rooftops. I’ll look for a vehicle. But, we’ll all stay here a few days, regardless, give you a chance to recover more. If I can’t find a vehicle, I’ll carry you, Soap and Rodolfo will cover us.”

Alejandro nodded. “Alright. That sounds solid.”

“Just curious,” Soap spoke up, “why haven’t you called for help from your men?”

“When I fell… I fell on Rodolfo as well. Smashed his radio with my gear. Almost broke his ribs, too. My radio hasn’t functioned for months now.”

Soap considered. “Could I see it?”

Alejandro shrugged, gesturing to his gear to the side. Soap took the radio off the vest and inspected it. He couldn’t see what was wrong with it right off the bat. “Tomorrow, I’ll take it apart, see if I can fix it.” He put it back on the vest.

Alejandro nodded. He sighed. “Someone needs to inform Rodolfo.”

Soap shrugged. “I will.” He did not trust Ghost to not say something stupid. He got up and went to where he assumed was the roof hatch, remembering Rodolfo mentioned a sniper’s nest. He found the ladder up, realizing he may have been too cocky.

But, he wasn’t backing down. He hoisted himself up, one armed. Fuck, he regretted trying to maintain his strength over the last two years. His arm protested being the only one doing any work but he ignored it, dragging himself fully onto the roof.

He panted but carefully approached Rodolfo, jumping back when Rodolfo was up, immediately, his gun pointed at him. It was very very good he hadn’t started Rodolfo before, he decided. “Woah.” He said, hoping to calm him, and putting his hand up to show he wasn’t a threat. “You’re jumpy.” He internally winced, questioning why he said that.

“Jumpy?” Rodolfo frowned, clearly not understanding. But… he lowered his gun and Soap relaxed.

“Easy to startle.”

“Oh.” Rodolfo sighed. “What do you want?”

Soap winced, but he’d expected some hostility. “Ghost thinks its best if we stay here for just a few more days. Gather more supplies. He’s going to scout the town a little, see if a vehicle is an option. If not, we’ll proceed with the original plan.”

“Fine.” Rodolfo nodded before stepping forward a little, his voice going low. “But, if either one of you put a foot out of line, I will kill you. I won’t feel bad, either. If I unfocus my eyes, you’ll look just like them.” Rodolfo pointed down at some biters that were stumbling around, likely searching for food.

Soap tensed. He could see it in Rodolfo’s eyes. He meant it. “Understood.”

He was going to have to tread very very carefully around Rodolfo

Hey, want to get added to a tag list for this ship or AU? Reply to this with "add me to the tag list for [ship/au]" and I will tag you in everything I post for whichever you choose. If you want to be added to a different tag list, send me an ask or dm. Tag List: @i-miss-balthazar

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clearkidhideout · 1 year

Text

fucked up kid

pt 2. the bonfire

y/n pov

When the bonfire starts that guy gally starts handing out jars of his "secret drink" i bet you he doesn't even know what it is. when i take a swing of the drink it burns my throat. "bloody hell, what the fuck is that". it tasted good but man did it hurt my throat. soon enough i got used to the taste and was well on my way to get a fourth cup. i stare as i walk watching the other boys including newt dance around the fire. i feel someone walk up next to me it's thomas

"hey thomas"

"hi y/n, how you holding up" he asked shyly

"pretty well actually im not even drunk yet and im on my fourth cup" i say.

He laughs "no actually, how are you i know it's only been a couple of hours but are you ok"

i stare at him "yeah im fine. being surrounded by boys is stressful but it will have to do" i give him a smile just as i feel someone yank me back by the collar of my shirt.

"for fucks sake you peice of shit" i scream at whoever yanked me back. turns out it was gally .

"hey little greenie, its a tradition of ours to fight the new green bean" he smirks at me

i just roll my eyes if he wants to fight we can fight "gally are you sure i dont want to beat your ass infront of these people" i gesture around to the other boys catching newts eyes as he shakes his head at me warning me. what the hell do they not think i can win, well ill show them.

Gally just laughs in my face " aw little girl is too scar-" was all he got out be fore i kicked him in the stomach

"for the fucking last time im not scared i dont care"

he throws me down knocking the wind out of me but not for long because i sock him in the nose just as he explains that he would end me. i hear a satisfying crunch that makes blood shoot out of his nose on to my hand which might i add was a little disgusting.

"Y/N WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO" alby runs over to me and gally yelling

"I DID NOTHING BUT FIGHT HIM CAUSE FOR FUCKS SAKE HE WANTED TO FIGHT AND HE HAD TO BLAB ABOUT BEATING MY ASS LIKE SHUT UP DIPSHIT NO ONE CARES BECAUSE I WON THE FUCKING FIGHT" i yell back

alby just looks at me in disbelief because i guess no one ver talked to him in that way which they should and he called the medjacks to take alby and fix his goddamn nose. then they brought me into this coucling room told me to sit in a chair and proceeded to agree to lock me up in what ever they call is a slammer

"you can't do that i litterally just won a fight and your locking me in a slammer what the hell is a slammer anyway" furious that they would even dare to do that.

newt says "alby she's righ-

"of course i am" i inturupt

he continues like he didn't even hear me "right we cant lock her up in the slammer because she won a fight with gally remeber minho he broke gally's arm and we let him go"

alby turns to newt and sighs pinching his nose "well what do you want me to do"

"well you could um..... you could send someone to supervise her and not let her near gally" he saind blushing a flustered

"supervise me as in babysit" it still made me pissed but ill get what i can take

just then alby looks up sharply"newt who's going to watch her. i know you on top of your job keep an eye on her"

"i have a name you know not just her its y/n and if you cant call me that dont talk" i snap back

alby looks at me "shut up y/n newt take her somewhere else out of my sight"

newts pov

bloody great i got myself into this by suggesting someone to watch her and she's mad

"what do you want"y/n snapped at me "lets go"

she turns and stomps out of the homestead even when she is mad i still think that she looks beautiful

she sits down by a log and looks at me. "am i really scary you have to keep me under your watch"

i sit down next to her " i dont think your scary just tough we need that around here maybe you could help me whip the boys back into shape"

she laughs and i make it my personal goal to make her laugh like that all the time

"you sound just like my mom" she freezes and looks at me and i have a feeling my expression matches her own

"what" i say shocked

she looks at me "what dipshit"

"its just people here dont remember their life before the glade and you do" i question her

"i dont remember anything just the important stuff. like the people i know or things that happened. i dont remember any of their names though and i dont remember what happened or how i got here " she looks at me again this time her voice is laced with a tiny bit of frusteration and confusion

"thats more than most can remember you know what your friends look like i cant even remember what my life was before all this happened" i gesture around the glade

she snorts at me " like i said before newt just important people in my life but they are like blurry pictures and its only glipses here and there, other things im not willing to share are like clear as day, and i remember you" she pauses looking shocked at what she just admitted to me

"you remember me" i ask wanting to know more

"yes, just one memory though when you asked me to come to the bonfire it reminded me of a time when you asked me to come to a party with you" she looked at me shocked again

"well glad to hear that because i think i had the same memory at that time" i smiled at her

"you liked me" she states bluntly

i was surprised "i did"

she looks at me again "damn this drink, i spilled more than i wanted to, to you and it's all because of this mother fucker right here" she shakes the drink and glares down at it which causes me to laugh

y/n pov

"i think im gonna call it a night" i say to newt

he looks at me startled "what"

"it was nice talking to you but today was stressful im tired and would like sleep so newt would you like to walk me to my bed or not" i say

"um ok"

he walks me to my bed and we exchange farewells i might not trust him but i like him enough to call him a nice aquantence

#newt x reader #newt tmr

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goodnightmemes · 2 years

Text

BONES SENTENCE STARTERS / s01e015 - s01e17

❛ It's fascinating how interests and intimacy can be cultivated online. ❜

❛ Cement shoes, pretty trite. ❜

❛ So what if your computer date's a psycho? ❜

❛ You know, what ever happened to seeing someone across a crowded room, eyes meeting, that old black magic gets you in its spell... ❜

❛ Don't go overboard with psychology. It's not your thing. ❜

❛ Look, I am an adult. I see men. I go out with them on occasion. I sleep with them. ❜

❛ You know it wouldn't be difficult to someone to encode a secure data strip implant it on an ID card with a correct digitally encoded authentication data and sneak in here. ❜

❛ I know it's hard for you to admit you're wrong about something but I really don't care about your feelings right now, I'm more concerned with your life.

❛ I'm not letting you out of my sight until I find out who is trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Hey, [name] is a big strong hot guy who wants to save your life. I mean you actually have a knight in shining FBI standard issued body armor, so cut him some slack. ❜

❛ Is that why you brought me here, to scare me into giving up? ❜

❛ I can give you answers. I can help you. You really want me to walk away because it's dangerous? ❜

❛ Is that the psycho? ❜

❛ A person's environment is a reflection of who he is. ❜

❛ You think you're staying here with me? ❜

❛ Let's talk revenge, bloodlust. ❜

❛ I'm just thinking people don't really change. We like to believe they do but they don't. ❜

❛ You're feeling something a little more devious, more like a frame up. Oh I like it, very conspiratorial. ❜

❛ People never tell me I'm right. They only say I'm crazy. Love you, man. ❜

❛ Maybe that nurse was right to be pissed that you were leaving. You don't seem good. ❜

❛ How could it not be my fault? It was my job to protect her. ❜

❛ So my death will be justified now? ❜

❛ Well at least then I'm dying for a good reason. ❜

❛ This conspiracy thing is a lot more intense when you're in the middle of it. ❜

❛ It's okay. I'm right here. It's all over. Okay. Shh. I'm right here, alright. ❜

❛ You saved my life. ❜

❛ May I borrow your gun? ❜

❛ We've been working together for months. A little trust would be nice. ❜

❛ You don't just go running after guys into the dark. ❜

❛ You get invested in your work, time has a way of getting away from you. ❜

❛ What, so, you gonna tell me, uh, "I know what you been through. I been there, too, you know? I know how you ended up how you ended up". You telling me that? ❜

❛ You did what a soldier had to do. ❜

❛ Yeah. You know... I was a good soldier. I was a very good soldier - but a pretty bad human being. ❜

❛ You know what? I think it's best I not talk about this anymore. Not cause any more trouble. I... I got to go. ❜

❛ You haven't eaten anything all day. Now, I have some killer yellowtail here and spicy tuna rolls. ❜

❛ Time gets away from me sometimes. ❜

❛ I wish you were a little more scared. ❜

❛ Those are rhetorical questions I'm not supposed to answer, right? ❜

❛ There's always going to be casualties. The important thing is to recognize the enemy, and take him out so more people don't get hurt. ❜

❛ Okay, that, what you just said right there - that was cynical. It was glib and cynical. ❜

❛ If you really want to know what I've done, I'll tell you, but you better be ready for the truth. ❜

❛ You're hiding. You have to face your demons. ❜

❛ I like it. Someone's honest, says the truth. You don't lie, I guess. ❜

❛ Can I just have a gun at least until they get here? It's not for shooting rats. It's for psychos with climbing axes. ❜

❛ We go in there, you are responsible for whoever is on your left. Okay, you put your gun on him. ❜

❛ Wondering whether or not to shoot, you shoot. ❜

❛ Who vacations in the desert? It's like lunching at the dump. ❜

❛ You're really sending me mixed messages. ❜

❛ Yeah, well, I'm freaking out, I guess. I'm sorry. Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. Pretend I didn't call. ❜

❛ You won't get anything out here. We're about a hundred miles past where Jesus lost his sandals.

❛ If you hug me and you be all caring it's because you think [name] is dead. ❜

❛ I want you to get federal on his ass. ❜

❛ The suns's been up for an hour out there. It's already the surface of Mercury. ❜

❛ No offense to you, but you are a stodgy traditionalist when it comes to relationships, buddy. ❜

❛ Let's rush him. He can't shoot us both. ❜

❛ You point your gun at everyone who comes by? ❜

❛ Okay, we got that one wrong. ❜

❛ Okay, who are you, Dr. Phil? ❜

❛ Who's Dr. Phil? Some kind of expert? ❜

❛ Now he's gone and I feel like I can't even breathe. I can't even take a breath. ❜

❛ He said that if you stood still long enough, that the desert would actually speak to you. Show you some kind of truth. ❜

❛ Maybe he deserved more, not my place to say, but he couldn't have done better. No man could. ❜

❛ My lungs are gonna come out through my throat. ❜

❛ If you expect to win arguments around here, you'll need at least one doctorate. ❜

❛ I'm just afraid that I don't have a generous heart. ❜

❛ I'm afraid that I won't have the chance that I had with [name] ever again. ❜

❛ Nothing in this universe happens just once. Infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. ❜

❛ I promise from my heart. You will get another chance. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #rp prompt #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #sentence starter meme #rp memes #rp prompts #*tv #*bones

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sweet-sammy-kisses · 2 years

Text

Wrap it up in some tenderness

Title: Wrap it up in some tenderness Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Buddie For @buddiebingo prompt love confession, @yearoftheotpevent first kiss and hurt/comfort prompt near-death experince Warnings: Slight Ana bashing, Eddie doesn’t like Abby, the shooting and Eddie’s breakdown Rating: Teen Work Count: 1650 You can also read it on AO3

Buck had known for a while that his feelings for Eddie runs deeper than that of a normal friendship. That even his feelings for Abby - the woman who taught him to love - paled in comparison. They always seem to be circling around one another on the edge of becoming something more, of becoming the couple - the family - people saw them as.

But then came Ana.

Then Eddie got shot in front of him and Buck could still taste Eddie's blood in his mouth, he hadn't been able to eat anything with red sauce since that day. He felt adrift it felt like Eddie was drifting away from him since the shooting.

Then came Eddie's breakdown and Christopher calling him and Buck felt his heart breaking at the sight of Eddie looking so shattered. Eddie and Christopher needed him and he was staying with them.

Who would make hearts drawings every day if he got that tiny hit of a smile from Eddie?

+****+

"I miss understood the assignment."

Buck's words played around in a loop in Eddie's head as he looked at the heart drawing the other man had made. He lost count of how many times he looked at it, how many times he traced the edges of it or touched the big heart.

It is so big, bright and beautiful just like Buck is and Eddie... Eddie is so fucking thankful that he has someone like Buck in his life. Who will come in the middle of the night because his son calls him because his dad is having a breakdown. Buck, who will stay the night and not only get Christopher ready for school the next morning but call Bobby to be there for him in the morning so he wasn't alone.

Buck who cleaned up his room for him so he didn't have to do it.

"You know that you don't have to do this," Eddie commented from where he was leaning against the doorway watching as Buck moved around his room cleaning up the mess he made. He knew that it had to be cleaned up but he couldn't step into that room, he didn't know why, every time he got close he just froze.

Standing up from where he had been cleaning up the broken picture frames and cleaning up the shattered shards of glass that littered the floor Buck smiled at Eddie, "It's no problem Eds. I want to do this for you."

Once again Eddie was so thankful to whoever made sure that Evan Buckley would come into his life. "I can't thank you enough for this Buck."

"I'm just cleaning a room, it's no big deal," Buck reassured him with a smile.

Eddie wanted to tell him it was more than just a room, it was his mess and Buck had wasted no time in helping to piece him back together, sure there were still shards missing and he was still so fragile that he could shatter at any moment but the unwavering support Buck gave him so freely he knew that if he should fall apart again Buck would be there to help pick up his shards again.

Licking his dry lips Eddie gave Buck a small but true smile, "It is a big deal and it is more than just cleaning up a room, we both know that Buck."

Buck's blue eyes shone like two sapphires and the small smile he sent to him warmed Eddie, he had felt so cold since that night. "I'm just glad that I can be here for you Eds. You and Christopher."

Few people could read Buck and Eddie was one of them and he knew the man was still carrying around guilt for not being there for his Diaz's boys during the lawsuit and Eddie wanted nothing more than to gather him in a hug and made him see that he didn't blame him for what happened. Yes, he had been angry, so angry but because he was once again back in a world where he didn't have Buck in his life, where he and Christopher were Buckless. He couldn't help his son with his nightmares about the Tsunami and he felt powerless that he couldn't help Buck with his, his Buck could carry the blame.

He had never had anyone like Buck in his life before, someone who loves him and Christopher for who they are, who encourages them in ways no one else ever had. The man who he trusted Christopher with something he could never do with Shannon or his parents because he knows deep in his heart that no one will help make Christopher fly like Buck will and let him become everything he could be and more.

Buck had buried himself so deep into his heart and into his and Christopher's lives that Eddie hadn't even noticed that he had fallen in love with him. He was scared no he is terrified that if he told Buck his feelings and he didn't return them he would lose the best thing that had ever happened to him and Christopher so he shoved those feelings deep down inside of him.

Then he met Ana and she was everything his parents would love and he forced himself to be with a woman that he would never love and it wasn't until he was shot in the middle of the street seeing Buck covered in blood did he realize that he was fooling himself and leading Ana on he would never love anyone but Buck. Near-death experiences sucked almost as much as getting shot.

That should have been the wake-up call he needed but his parents had been so proud of him, going on and on about finally finding the perfect woman that he stayed in a relationship that was hurting everyone. Buck had begun pulling away Ana all but shoving him out trying to take his place, Christopher had been hurt and missing his Buck just like Eddie had been. Recovering from the bullet hadn't helped so he stayed with Ana.

"I have been in Ana's place." Buck's words had stuck with him, Eddie had never hated someone so deeply as he hated Abby Clark who used and discard Buck like he was nothing but a passing fad.

The panic attacks he had about a life with Ana, being a readymade family with her didn't help. Something he never had when it came to people amusing he, Buck and Christopher were a family, they are.

Ana's parting comments about his panic attacks, and her belittling him had helped him to see that while she was perfect on paper she had a nasty side, her comments about Christopher and his limits always lingered at the back of his mind whispering that her way of thinking was a lot like his parents and that is why they got along so well. They wanted to limit Christopher while that was the last thing he and Buck wanted to do.

Looking at the heart drawing again Eddie felt himself smile at the heart family and he knew what he wanted to do.

+*****+

"Eddie, what are you doing?" To say Buck was confused at the sight of Eddie at his table marker and blank pieces of paper in front of him was an understatement.

There was a soft smile on Eddie's face as he held out a piece of paper to Buck, taking it Buck felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of a family of heart drawing so like his staring back at him.

"I don't understand." Buck couldn't hide the hope in his voice.

"You gave me your heart so I am giving you mine in return."

Buck looked at the paper as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "But you did that when you made me Chris' guardian." Buck pointed out softly.

Pushing himself out of the chair Eddie approached Buck, "That I did. I have loved you for such a long time that I don't remember a time when I didn't love you, even when I was trying to make things work with Shannon I kept thinking of you or when I tried to force myself to get over you and do what my parents expected of me and be with Ana. But I couldn't because the role she wanted to be a part of was already taken by you."

Buck had never heard Eddie like this and he could feel his heart skipping beats at the knowledge that it was him that Eddie wanted. "I love you, Eddie Diaz, I have for so long. I thought Abby changed me and she did in a small way but I found my family with you and Christopher. I found the place where I belong, the one I have been searching for all my life with the two of you. You are my home."

"I love you too Evan Buckley." Eddie closed the distance between him and Buck and finally did what he had long to do since Buck had his back that night in the ambulance and kissed that pretty mouth.

Buck melted into Eddie's arms cupping the other man's face with care as he returned the kiss. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

Pulling back the two men smiled at one another, they both knew that their being together wasn't going to be a magical fix and that the struggles they had with their families and self-worth would be gone but together they had the support they both needed.

"I got your back," Eddie whispered, his eyes shining with a gleam of happiness that had been missing for this past week and it made Buck want to cry to know that he put that look in Eddie's eyes.

Buck couldn't help but place another gentle kiss on Eddie's lips, "And I have yours."

#buddie bingo #year of the otp #YOTP 2023 #buddie #otp: you can have my back any day #sherri writes #my fics

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chxlzdump · 2 years

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;❀♙♞

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍, also known as the biggest and baddest vampire had found himself attach to a vampire named Charlotte. They met in England 1492. The night that Katerina Petrova was found by Elijah Mikaelson himself.

A little background story about Charlotte, she was turned in the year 1450 with her finest friend Joshuah. Her and Niklaus have a complicated relationship than a tangled rope. They found each other again in Chicago 1920, where Charlotte had found interesting information before the night they had met Stefan Salvatore.

Klaus, Rebekah, Charlotte, and Joshuah found their way into Gloria’s bar.

Charlotte’s POV

Bekah has found her new boy toy named Stefan if I remembered correctly. While Joshuah and I prepare for our intermission my eyes landed on Nik laughing and playing with some of the customer. I then approached them with an innocent smile and gulping when the smell of blood passes my nostrils.

I then eyed the woman whose wrist was bleeding, glaring at Stefan who was his mouth wide open, mocking a shock expression. I averted my sight and put them on Nik.

“are we all having fun?” I raised a brow at the man sitting next to Nik who looks scared for his dear life.

“The fun is just beginning darling” Nik responded with his signature smirk and gestured the bleeding lady. I smiled sweetly at them and clasped my hands together.

“Well, you do your fun but don’t miss out my performance” I take the glass that was filled with blood, downing it and putting it exactly where it was earlier “you might need a refill” I shoot Stefan a wink and headed to the front stage.

Joshuah had already set-up the piano and microphone. I sat at the stool and test the piano and the microphone. When all was good I look up at Joshuah and gave him a smile.

“This might not be fitted for our usual jizz and jazz, but apparently my partner here would like to sing an original” Joshuah started playing his guitar while I on the piano.

Joshuah started the song…

I continued while looking from my audience to the piano.

“Niklaus Mikaelson? He’s the bad news in bad news, you should make distance from him as far as possible” our friend Derek once said.

“I heard he’s more than just a vampire but who knows maybe he is more superior than one”

“He’s running from someone I know it, he always seems paranoid when no one is watching but I do tend to keep my eyes on attractive men”

And the list goes on of rumours and warnings for us, but one sentence peaked my interest in…

“He seems rather meek to the human eye however he's quite a charmer and holds immense power.”

Most people might have been scared and withdraw from being close to them but I however felt a gentle pull to him. An Alpha of all alphas, that what allure me. The power and charms that he holds, that in every kill the drops of blood that he had left behind was a path for me to take to be with him. Oh, how wrong am I for that information.

A flash of yesterday’s event come passing through my mind.

I was on my way to the library to collect new books to read. Through the halls of the mansion of the Mikaelson, an ajar door had made itself a way for the dim lighted room to be acknowledged by the passengers of the hall. Murmurs and whispers can be heard, so I decided to make myself known, but the mention of my name putted me into a halt.

“Charlotte doesn’t know Nik, much more understand the way our life work. Running and hiding from our own father that is yearning to kill us, kill you” a voice (suggested angrily), I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, perhaps the next sentence of Nikalus had made me want to hear more.

“I promise you Rebekah as soon as I had broken the curse we will no longer have to run, we will able to settle down and you can love whoever you please. We will be free of our father’s vengeance. But I need Charlotte for the sacrifice, only a few knows this but Charlotte is also one of the doppelgänger that have been created.” Gasped can be heard from the blonde original.

“And how are you sure about this Nik?”

“I am not, but if it means sacrificing the woman that I had find interest in for saving our family, I will. You have my word Rebekah, always and forever.”

“You painted all of this?” I scanned the small room full of a few paintings. Some having hidden but meaningful meanings in them and others just portray of people. I picked a small canvas of an impressionism that looks like a lake. Nik must have leaned over my shoulder, his hot breathe meet my neck making me tense tightening my grip unto the canvas.

“Yes love, now don’t break the canvas. We wouldn’t want to give you a splinter.” He reached for the painting that is in my hand before completely resting his head in my left shoulder.

“I painted this the day you and I met. It was a very pleasing day”

“Now that is quite interesting, tell me more.” We both chuckled and swayed around the room. Bodies attached together.

“Peace. That is all what resembles this painting and the day we met” He kissed my neck “The calm and silence of my life was perhaps had something to do with being with you. It’s entirely ironic how my life can be compared to hell but here I am talking about peace and calmness.”

“Then I call your bluff Nik, no one can make you feel peace if you wouldn’t let them to, so it’s all you”

“Possibly, but you’re the light that I followed to get to this peaceful space on earth. Your side, I will cherish every moment of every time we are together. I promise to protect and return to you the same peace that you have been giving.”

“Always and forever” we said in union.

The song comes to an end. Gloria’s bar came into a silent halt.

“It was really a new thing, trust us we know. Who even sings a sad song in a bar?” I started when no one dared to make a single noise. Even a drop of blood will be like a gong of bell for a vampire in this moment.

“That is why I warned you folks, not your usual jizz and jazz. But the great Gloria approved of it before letting us take the stage, isn’t that right Gloria?” Joshuah turned to Gloria with the rest of the customers.

“We can’t do anything about it already, it’s done. And I must say Charlotte and Joshuah, it was a wonderful performance.” She gave as a reassuring smile while a person started to clap slowly. Like a rain of claps it started to get stronger and louder, until the whole bar was full of cheers and whistle.

Joshuah and I bowed dramatically, hand in hand.

While my partner was busy talking to some admirers of his, I look for a specific original vampire that will be a hybrid with the help of draining me of blood. I saw him talking with Stefan, downing every bottle of bourbon Gloria has stock of.

“Now now Nik, we don’t want you to be wobbly and jiddy before my fun begins now don’t we?”

“Charlotte. What a wonderful performance you’ve done there love. I shall say, the lyrics were full of riddles and whatnot, would you enlighten us both on what you were meaning to say?” Niklaus gestured to both him and Stefan.

“It’s about two people, one being completely naïve and falling on the sea of love, while the other being quite smart and a planner giving up the chance of being happy to make himself powerful” I slid between them and grab the glass in Stefan’s hand.

“You see, there are two people in this world, a chiseller then the fool” By now Stefan leave us be and made his search for Rebekah.

“A man will say that the chiseller will immediately win and become the leaders of this world” I put down Stefan’s glass in the counter and made my way beside Klaus.

“But the wise will say the fool is the most important role in the game. Not because the person who draws him is a fool. He's a fool because he's a clean slate, and therefore, can become anything.” I whispered directly at his ears, making him stiffen in a blink of an eye.

He stood up from his high stool and tower over me. A pissed look on his face, fist turning white, and believe me if his cursed was now broken his eyes will be golden yellow. Anger, betrayal, doubt, and failure are the mixtures of emotions that Klaus Mikaelson is now feeling

“Whatever you’re implying love, just get to the point” he hissed.

“That I could have helped capturing Katerina, but you being and feeling like the alpha you wouldn’t filled me in with your little curse and I would’ve help and saved you from this a long time ago” I stared at his eye “But no, your ego is too big for you to even comprehend that someone is ready to help and even sacrifice herself for you because they are drowning in the non-existent love that you are falsely showing”

“Because I am the fool Nik. A clean slate that can become anything. And I have chosen to be the person that love you genuinely. But perhaps I was a little too late to save myself, the suffocating disingenuity making me hard to breathe that led me to my own demise. A clean slate was marked by death and the role of anything becomes the literal fool itself.”

I moved my hand to his cheeks, stroking it feeling the coldness of his skin. Gunshots can be heard, the Chicago police making themselves known. I stand there calmly, making a way for Niklaus to walk into. The panic in his eyes, the fear and the sadness was a much worse mixture than the earlier ones. I kiss cheek before letting go.

“I am the fool Nik, and that leaves you at being the chiseller.” Nik ran and grad Rebekah, leaving Chicago and its memories on the garbage pile on the way out.

-- Be the king Nik. Be the leader and let the world burn to its ashes. Through my death and my sufferings, I hope and pray for your success and happiness. Let darkness cover the earth, find all your ingredients and finish what you started. Until then, your secret is safe with me.

Yours, Charlotte

Hi! A new found interest in one of the talented musicians out there have found its way to me. I present to you a one shot that is connected to TVD and Joshua Bassett's song "Secret". I'm afraid that this will be plagiarized, so please be reminded that plagiarism is considered as a crime. If you do find a story that is an exact copy of this please let me know. I have only posted it here in tumblr as InAMinuteRun and nowhere else. I hope you enjoy reading!<3

#joshua bassett #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries #tvd #stefan salvatore #rebekah mikaelson #niklaus x oc #niklaus imagines

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seldomscilence16 · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 2: Nowhere to Run

Fandom: Avengers

Prompts;

Cornered

Caged

Confrontation

Day 2 of Whumptober, wow I cant believe im doing this, these are probably the quickest and shortest stories ive ever written.

Tony knows theres a quote that he'd love to use right now. Something from an older movie, something about not cornering babies or something, but all his brain power is currently being used elsewhere.

Tony didnt like the other side of this. Not that he much liked being kidnapped either, but the other side of it sucked majorily. Especially when the people were kidnapped because of him. He thought being on a super hero team would keep things like this from happening. Sure he'd been kidnapped since the invasion (not that the team was aware of it anyway) but that he could handle, hes been saving himself since he was 5.

And of all his teammates, Bruce and the spy twins were not who he'd expect to be kidnapped. Sure Nat and Clint were human ish, but they were SPIES, and Bruce was the freakin HULK. It just didnt compute, and when did villians get smart enough to think of kidnapping teamates to get him to do things!?

And they were even smart enough to put him in such a time crunch they had zero time to plan anything. Every tick of the clock (mental clock as it was) was another foot of the walls closing in on him, an extra shot of adrenline that had his heart beating painfully against the reactor and his lungs constricting tighter and tighter.

His half an hour was almost up, the live feed of his teammates and the count down was only making him nervous but he couldnt bear to have it out of his sight. The device in front of him was rudimentary at best compared to what he could do with a bit more time, but it would work, the reactor was the important part anyway. Always the freakin reactor.

He puts it in a case, like those cliche movies, and books it to the meet up, Jarvis playing the livefeed for him and a soothing voice in his ear. He should have left a note or something, Cap would be mad hes sure, Pepper and Rhodey furious. But that would be someone elses problem, he only had one thing on his mind.

Keep the spies from being shot and a drugged up Bruce being launched attached to a rocket. (He didnt know what the man could survive and didnt want to test it.)

"JARVIS, how they doin?" He focus' on directions and birds and things that pass, to ensure he can actually make it to the rendevu.

"Alive sir. Annoyed in Ms. Romanoffs case, Bored in Mr. Bartons. I'm afraid Dr. Banner has been given another dose, and is incoherant still."

"Any chance they've found a way out yet?"

"...It does not seem so sir."

Tony curses vehemently, glancing at his teammates. Nat and Clint both wear iron prisoner gauntlets, to keep their hands unusable, chained to the bars of their cages, spread to further imobile them, legs tied together- and of course guns ready to shoot when the timer hits zero. Bruce- as mentioned before- is collared with several needles attached to it, and bound to a honest to god rocket.

Whoever was stupid enough to take them, would be dead. Tony would make sure of that, ledger be damned. He might of only had half an hour, but hes Tony Stark, and no one messes with his team.

The meet up is too close to a warehouse to be a coincidence, one of their many mistakes. A mere four people are waiting for him, and hes a little insulted, if not for a previously mentioned dead mans switch, Tony would blow them all up here and now.

"JARVIS, you know what to do. Remember, priority is the others, and if things go wrong, you know where my updated will is."

"...Yes sir." JARVIS was against it, but Tony was too determined to be deterred.

He lands, steps out of his armor, and feels JARVIS' departure, though his eyes stay trained on the people before him.

"Welcome Stark, bring what we asked?" The man he'd garnered was in charge over their interactions.

"In the case. But I want that timer shut off, they're safe first before I hand over anything."

"Are you really in the position to negotiate?"

"They die, and not only do you not get this thing, but you'll end up dead too. I have a record im sure you've reffered to."

This causes pause at least, they all fidget and have a quiet conversation. The count down continues in Tonys mind, but he carefully puts out nonchalance, free hand in his pocket as he leans back just slightly. Never show weakness.

"Fine." A laptop in one of the others hands, some quick typing, and the screen is flipped to show him the disarmed timer, guns, and rocket.

Now he has the tech guy, the leader, and the muscle. He moves forward finally, a pace between uncaring and not quite rude. He opens the case when hes a few feet away, watches the mans face light up as he takes the device and inspects it. The case is put aside, Tony knows what comes next, and while they think it is the last step, that there will be no further confrontation, they will be sorely mistaken. Tony wonders if he'll get to see their faces when they realize they were outsmarted by the man they underestimated.

"Now," mischief swims in his unhinged eyes as he looks to Tony, "show me how to connect the Reactor, how to start it."

Tony moves his shirt aside, heart beating harshly, as he twists

And pulls.

Its easy enough to connect the two things, even simpler to show the man how to opperate it.

"And how do I know this thing works?"

Tony makes a show of stumbling, moving away from the group and towards the nearest tree, leaning on it heavily.

"Try it out for all I care. Just let my teammates go."

He sneers, turing to consult with his group, all the better as they huddle close. They are newbs, they may have gotten the drop on 3 of the Avengers, but that was their only accomplishment. Tony could almost feel sorry for them, if he didnt detest them so.

His heart flutters, chest spasma, his knees give out, breath harder to pull in now. Still he watches, watches as the tech gestures to the trees, how they make a space and point their 'weapon', he cant quite see their faces, at least not all of them, but the one muscle guys he can see is enough.

The wave of energy that comes with the activation of the device is intense enough to bend the branches of the trees and blow up a large cloud of durt, but from Tonys hiding spot he still gets to peak at the destruction left behind. No fallen or burnt forest, no crater of disentegrated anything. Just four bodies, a mere smoking crisp of what they once were.

His disguised reactor was nothing more than a self distructing decoy. It could keep him alive for a time, even power the suit, but one wrong move? And you get this. A sure way to solve situations such as this, one made in a fit of paranoia, and one he was glad for. Even if it now means his slow death as shrapnel inches ever closer to his heart.

He slumps now, his part of the plan completed. Stares up at the sky as best he can, thinking of things left undone and red ledgers and the ones left behind. Its not quite how he thought he'd go out, no blaze of battle glory, or assasination attempt. Instead it will be the slow one taken from him all those years ago, in the hot desert.

His eyes fall closed at some point, waves of pain wracking his body, curled on his side in hopes to relieve, of course its in vain though, he can just picture his heart now-whats left of it- being torn to shreds.

Did he say goodbye to his bots? To JARVIS?

Why is the air so thin? Why cant he move? Is he trapped? What happened??

He must be trapped, hes dying, no he needs to get out, but why? Where is everyone? Why whywhywhywhyw-

Theres noise... so far away. Is he underground? Caged and buried!? HELP, JARVIS please-

"ONY! Listen, you gotta calm down! The new arc is almost here I promise! Just stay with me!"

The warehouse was so close, was it to taunt him with these visions? To feed him false hope in a never ending world of a fantasy life where he may actually have people that care? Jokes on them, he has long since accepted... that he is not the one anyone WANTS.

"Come on man, just try and breathe. Jar will be here any minute, you got us out, we're here now."

Well hes heard of two faced but this is ridiculous. Hes pretty sure fusing Clint and Bruce had not been a threat, but there they are, two heads in a pair of shoulders. Theres one head theres two, three fourfivesixse- where was he going with this?

"We're gonna have a talk about this Kotenok, this self sacrificing theme our team has going is going to turn me grey."

"Yerstll perty."

"Not the point, I dont like seeing you so close to death."

Something is running through his hair, gentle and soothing, he hopes its not snakes, that would suck.

"I can see JARVIS now buckethead, just a little longer."

He shudders and curls tighter as his chest tightens like a vice, splintering whatevers between its jaw. His eyes slip closed to panicked shouts, and his visions fade.

...

"I swear Tony if you ever do something like this again, I'll... sic Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and JARVIS on you!" Steve paces by the window unable to be still.

"That threat doesnt exactly-"

"Anthony! I have brought the biggest bear of well wishes I could find! I was told slaughtering a live one in your honor was frowned upon so I hope this will do!" The bears bigger than he is and Tony will treasure it forever.

"Thanks big-"

"Tony! You're Alive!" Bruce bursts through the door, disheiveled and out of breath.

"Yes Brucie bear, and youre coher-"

"They told me what you did, we're setting up a talk about how much you mean to us as soon as youre well enough to leave. You cant keep doing this, the Hulk and I forbid it."

"Forbid-!?"

"Potts just picked Rhodes up from the airport, just to warn you." Natasha slinks in and perches on the edge of his bed.

"Airport?? Why the hell did I even give him a s-"

"I found balloons with our faces on them! Our FACES!" Clint has enough balloons to float a small dog, and they fill the ceiling like the bear overfills the visitors couch.

"Yes, I had to paten them-"

"YOU KNEW!?"

"ANTHONY STARK YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!"

"Can I finish one sentence?"

Pepper fumes as she and Rhodey rush in,

"No!"

"Im gonna wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you in a padded wagon if you keep trying to kill me like this."

"I believe I was keeping people from being killed. Minus... the guys that got killed but they were lame."

"How many times am I gonna have to tell you you matter to us before you actually get it?" Pepper squeezes his hand, tight and trembling, tears in her eyes that make his already tender heart squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I didnt have much time... I couldnt watch anyone die. I couldnt stand by when I could do something.... you guys matter to me, no matter how frustrating you are, so I did what I could. But I am sorry for worrying you all."

"We'll have to remind you more that your safety and wellbeing are just as important to us брат, (omg guys its pronounced Brat but means brother I cant so true) but thank you, for saving us." Natashas hand is warm on his ankle, but her words are warmer.

"Aye, I wish to have as much time as I'm able with you all, I am honored to both fight and exist with you." He bows his head, fist over his heart.

"Theres only one of you Tony, and we would like to keep him around." Bruce gives a small smile, eyes shining with truth.

"I was wrong in the hellicarrier, and Im sorry for it, Im glad to call you a friend." Steve has stopped pacing, standing tall and speaking every word with meaning and warmth.

"You're the reason we were able to become a family dude, stick around and enjoy it would ya." Clint pats his other ankle with a smirk, thats both kind and nervous.

"We'll tell ya everyday if we have to Tones." Rhodey ruffles his hair and Tonys eyes well up against his will. He blinks frantically, refusing to let a single one fall, before offering a hesitant smile.

"I cant promise I'll stop scaring you guys, I'll still protect you guys with my all, but I'll try to be better about the process." He pauses to breathe and swallow the lump in his throat, "and thanks... it means a lot."

#whumptober2022 #no.2 #caged #hostages #blackmail #the avengers #fic #drugged #arc reactor angst #angst #self sacrifice #Tony Stark #oc death #bamf tony stark #bamf JARVIS #found family

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 months

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16th June >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Ezekiel 17:22-24 I will plant a shoot on the high mountain of Israel.

The Lord says this:

‘From the top of the cedar, from the highest branch I will take a shoot and plant it myself on a very high mountain. I will plant it on the high mountain of Israel. It will sprout branches and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar. Every kind of bird will live beneath it, every winged creature rest in the shade of its branches. And every tree of the field will learn that I, the Lord, am the one who stunts tall trees and makes the low ones grow, who withers green trees and makes the withered green. I, the Lord, have spoken, and I will do it.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 91(92):2-3,13-16

R/ It is good to give you thanks, O Lord.

It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to make music to your name, O Most High, to proclaim your love in the morning and your truth in the watches of the night.

R/ It is good to give you thanks, O Lord.

The just will flourish like the palm tree and grow like a Lebanon cedar.

R/ It is good to give you thanks, O Lord.

Planted in the house of the Lord they will flourish in the courts of our God, still bearing fruit when they are old, still full of sap, still green, to proclaim that the Lord is just. In him, my rock, there is no wrong.

R/ It is good to give you thanks, O Lord.

Second Reading 2 Corinthians 5:6-10 We want to be exiled from the body and make our home with the Lord.

We are always full of confidence when we remember that to live in the body means to be exiled from the Lord, going as we do by faith and not by sight – we are full of confidence, I say, and actually want to be exiled from the body and make our home with the Lord. Whether we are living in the body or exiled from it, we are intent on pleasing him. For all the truth about us will be brought out in the law court of Christ, and each of us will get what he deserves for the things he did in the body, good or bad.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation John 15:15

Alleluia, alleluia! I call you friends, says the Lord, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! The seed is the word of God, Christ the sower; whoever finds this seed will remain for ever. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 4:26-34 The kingdom of God is a mustard seed growing into the biggest shrub of all.

Jesus said to the crowds: ‘This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man throws seed on the land. Night and day, while he sleeps, when he is awake, the seed is sprouting and growing; how, he does not know. Of its own accord the land produces first the shoot, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. And when the crop is ready, he loses no time: he starts to reap because the harvest has come.’ He also said, ‘What can we say the kingdom of God is like? What parable can we find for it? It is like a mustard seed which at the time of its sowing in the soil is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet once it is sown it grows into the biggest shrub of them all and puts out big branches so that the birds of the air can shelter in its shade.’ Using many parables like these, he spoke the word to them, so far as they were capable of understanding it. He would not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything to his disciples when they were alone.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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viky2318 · 1 year

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Shooting a mad gato filled with anger at full speed in your direction.

YOU CANNOT AVOID IT-

The cat furiously threw the keyboard on the ground and sat down, irked. She couldn’t teleport away, she couldn’t find a way to make that thing work and she couldn’t find a single soul in that damned place. She walked around for a while at first, but it was only an infinite dusty flower field. Yes, dusty. Monster dust, to be precise. What that place was wasn’t a thing Maddy cared for at the moment, though. She took a glance at the keyboard, laying next to her perfectly intact. She worked on that thing for hours, but to no avail. At the beginning she tried to use it, to see if something happened if she pressed this or that button, trying also different combinations. All she could do was stuff she already knew how to do, which was opening the universe and timeline description (which was censored and marked as “owner’s only data”) and reading the data of things in it (the flowers were perfectly normal golden flowers from that same timeline, and the dust was from “unidentified creatures”). She then tried to see if she could take it apart, but it seemed to be made of a single piece of… something. A material with a high magic concentration. Maybe it was pure magic. She tried to break it in half (it wasn’t too hard), but it melted and then took shape again, perfectly intact. Whoever made that thing must have been an expert magician… Maddy let herself fall down on the ground, huffing. She couldn’t stay there doing nothing. Her friends weren’t safe. She didn’t know why they were, but the simple fact that they weren’t on sight made her worry for them. Of course they weren’t in sight. She was trapped in a goddamn mass grave. Maybe all that dust was from other beings Sam trapped here. That human… She had to get away from there and kill them somehow. But what could she do? What didn’t she try? What was she missing? She looked again at the keyboard. That thing was useless in the end. Sam seemed to make clear that it just helped them but it wasn’t the source of their powers. She got up again, taking the keyboard in hand and giving it an irked stare. ”What a useless piece of trash”, she commented quietly.

“Oh c’mon now, don’t be so rude! I worked real hard on that artifact”. Maddy simply had to raise her gaze to see a tall smiling man looking at her with a brow raised, accompanied by a Flowey. The same Flowey that was with Muffet. The man looked familiar, yet she couldn’t quite figure out where she-… oh wait. The mission to Underswap. She saw him for a second back there, but she thought she imagined it. A lot of doubts and questions popped in her small mind, most of them openly declaring war to those two beings. The cat lowered her gaze to the flower, untrustful. “Where did you leave Muffet? She was with you last time I saw your ugly face”. The flower furrowed in annoyance, commenting: “moderate your terms, you stupid furry. We’re gonna get her too later”. Maddy was about to say something else, but the smiling man spoke first. “Please you two, don’t act childishly. We don’t have time for such silly discussions. Maddy, we would be glad if you followed us. We want to make sure you and your coworkers are out of risk, give you back your souls and bring you to a safe place”. Ok, that was definitely suspicious. Even Flowey raised a brow at the man as he spoke, probably finding his choice of words not the best one. “... Alright. So you pop out of nowhere right in the moment I need it without even telling me who the hell you are, propose an easy solution to one of my biggest problems and then tell me you’ll also “give me back” something I am supposed to have already. I think I need you to explain a few things to me because this smells like one of a big rip-off”. The man remained silent for a moment, probably because he was hoping it would have been easy to convince her, then sighed quietly. “Of course. My name is Seam (it’s pronounced Shawn). You can say I was Sam’s tutor. I tried to help Muffet and Grillby not do the wrong thing and take some distances from them, but sadly me and my softer counterpart weren’t able to completely avoid this moment. I’m sorry if I avoided contacting you until now, but Sam used to keep an eye open for you, seeing how potentially unstable you are. Most of the control the human has on you is because they have your soul, and now we want to take away some of their power on you and your coworkers. We’ll make sure you all are out of danger and we’ll make Sam harmless, either by taking away their powers or killing them”.

The cat thought about it for a moment, evaluating the options. “Yeah, sounds like a good explanation. Even too good. What’s the deal here? And still you didn’t explain to me how that idiot got my soul. If they really did it, I mean”. Flowey groaned, then exclaimed: “there, we’re losing time now! Can you stop doing the long and formal talk? Lemme handle this, ok?”. The flower raised a leaf towards Maddy, and checked her. Her stats came out visible, her clear annoyance, her LV… but no soul. This finally piqued the cat’s attention, making her frown a little. The flower nodded at her expression. “Exactly. Now that you have an actual proof, will you stop being an idiot and follow us? Our plan has little to no chances to fail, but they’ll surely get higher if we lose too much time. By now your lovely spider friend could be 6 feet under the ground keeping company to the fire guy”. Maddy’s eyes seemed to widen at his statement. It wasn’t the Muffet part. She knew already that Muffet was at risk. The “Fire guy” part concerned her. “... Waaaait. I think I heard wrong. You’re not telling me Grillby’s dead, right? He’s fine. He was perfectly fine last time I saw him. You can’t tell me I left him alone for a moment and he just died”. Her face had a smile that was slowly falling apart and an expression of almost irony, and there was a clear concerned tone in her voice, mixed together with a good dose of repressed anger and a little touch of fear. “Yeah, yeah, he’s dead. Very sad, tears and cries, etcetera etcetera. You can’t do anything about it, so let’s move on and be serious, alright?” Flowey stated. This time the tall man was the one to give a stare at the flower, clearly disappointed in his insensitivity.

Nope. No. No no no. This was clearly fake. They were trying to get her to believe in them and make her do what they want. Those liars. Everyone was a liar in that hellhole of a multiverse. Always. They can’t tell her such a thing. That stupid flower. Never trust a flower. Not even Underswap ones. Grillby’s fine. He MUST be fine. That idiot can’t leave her alone like that. That depressed dumbass. He wouldn’t DARE die alone. He…

Not a single tear. Not a cry, or a shout, or a desperate look. Just a silent stare in the nothing, with a deep frown and a quiet smile that made her seem about to start laughing. Of course. That dumb depressed idiot couldn’t live without someone to support him. She should have tried harder. And who was the murderer? … Was that even a question? Of course. There was no one else who would do something so irritating. “... I’ll come with you. But you won’t leave me anywhere. We’ll get Muffet, and then we’ll kill that human once and forever”, she stated, forcing her face to look calmer. The tall man nodded, a bit confused by how Flowey’s method seemingly was more effective than his. The flower seemed impressed by her sudden change of mind, and almost proud of his good job. “There! Way better. Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought”, he commented. “Yeah sure, whatever. Dare calling me anything different than Maddy again and I'll rip your petals one by one, flower. Anyway, what do I do with this, man? You said you made it, so I guess you want it back”, Maddy commented, giving the keyboard to the smiling man. He looked at it for a moment, debating a few things, then took that and the cat’s right hands in his. The keyboard seemed to vibrate for a moment, then got all melty and quickly wrapped around her glove, leaving only a thin metal sheet with some really rough buttons. The keys disappeared, and her glove seemed to get almost absorbed by the magic material, fusing with it perfectly. “There. This should make your code-visualizing ability more simple and amplify your magic, other than partially isolating you from Sam’s code-editing. I want to make sure you can actually face them without falling directly in their hands”, the man explained. The cat wasn’t expecting such a thing, but didn’t mind. “Aaaalright. Cut the chat now, man. We should really get going, you know?” Flowey commented. The man nodded in response, then held the two other beings and teleported to a dark, infinite nothing.

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