#and is fighting his own against him even though he is outnumbered

[kcuf-ad]

Smile if you were the MVP of the Spade Arc and is currently carrying the entire Clover Kingdom on your own.

[vikkirosko]

Hello. Since you're writing for Hazbin Hotel, how about Husk, Alastor, Valentino and Sir Pentious with S/O, who's way too determined for their own good? Like, even when it's obvious that S/O should cut their losses and retreat, they instead will try and try again.

Headcanons Excessive determination

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Alastor often witnessed fights in which you participated. You fought a lot and quite often you fought until your opponents gave up or ran away. You were overly determined and it didn't seem like it should have been a problem, but in fact it really was a problem

You were ready to fight even if your opponents outnumbered you and were armed. Alastor rarely interfered in your fights, watching you continue to fight with confidence. Quite often you got injured because of this, but even that couldn't break your resolve

When Alastor saw that you had absolutely no chance of winning, he intervened. He didn't even need to get into a fight to do that, the only thing he needed to do was approach. The sight of him alone scared most of the inhabitants of Hell. At times like this, you told him that you could have handled it on your own. He just smiled at you and agreed with you, but he wasn't going to leave you if you could die because of your determination and stubbornness

Alastor was amused to watch how your determination made your life difficult. However, when he saw that you were about to do something that was obviously too dangerous, he stopped you. He didn't need to convince you not to do it for a long time, because under his pressure your resolve was cracking

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk has known you for a long time and knew what kind of person you were. You were overly determined. You were not afraid of fights and often became a participant in them, even if your opponents outnumbered or outgunned you. You simply didn't pay attention to it, confident of your victory. However, you didn't always come out of fights unscathed

Every time you came to him wounded after fights, he would loudly scold you, telling you to think with your head when you fight. He was angry that you were so careless about your own safety and your own health. Even though he didn't tell you, he was worried that after another fight like this, you might not come back

When you returned wounded late, he would come out from behind the bar and treat your wounds without ceasing to grumble. He felt calmer when you came back, because you were alive. He told you every time to be careful and not to continue fighting if the chances of winning were small. Husk knew that you probably wouldn't listen to him, but he told you about it anyway

Husk was well aware that your excessive determination was a problem, even though you didn't think it was. Husk could only hope that you would finally begin to rationalize your chances and strengths, and your excessive determination would not cause your second death

💞 Valentino x Reader 🚬

It was the first time Valentino heard about you from friends. They talked about you as a determined person, but it was only through personal acquaintance that he found out that your determination could sometimes go to your own detriment. This was especially understandable when you became part of a conflict

He witnessed one of these conflicts. You fought alone against several bandits with whom you did not share something. There were more of them and they were better armed than you, but you didn't care about that yourself. You were ready to keep fighting even if it meant you could get hurt yourself

Several times he watched as his subordinates treated your wounds that you received after another fight. You claimed you were fine, but Valentino wouldn't let his subordinates stop treating your wounds. He saw perfectly well the state you were in and wasn't going to let your excessive determination hurt you

He began to send several of his people with you more often so that you would not get into trouble. You were against it, but Valentino didn't ask for your opinion on the matter. He liked you and he didn't want you to get hurt because you always relied on yourself, even when the difference in strength was obvious

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

For a long time, you have been not only a partner for Sir Pentious, but also a partner in his attempts to gain more power. You were always the first to rush into battle and at first he was delighted with your determination, until he realized that very often it hurts you more than it helps

The realization of this came to him after several fights in which you participated. Every time you fought like you didn't feel any pain and risked yourself even if you were outnumbered. Sir Pentious saw you fight against several sinners who, unlike you, were well armed, but you did not even think to retreat, confident that you could win

Every time after such fights, he was busy treating your wounds. Even with his help, you couldn't avoid getting hurt, but you didn't get upset about it. He asked you to be careful, but you rarely listened to him, which is why you returned, although pleased with your victory, but wounded again

Pentious knew that your determination was too strong, but there wasn't much he could do. The only thing he could really do was try to be close to you and, if necessary, come to your aid so that you would not die, because even in Hell it was possible to die

[jasmines-library]

Tried and True

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.

Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶��⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second. 

“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”

He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.

“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit. 

“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”

The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs. 

Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.

“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.” 

He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate. 

With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.

“Red!?” You called out through the coms.

There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”

You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful. 

The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.

“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”

You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.

With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers. 

From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious. 

Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”

There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound. 

“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”

“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background. 

“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”

You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up. 

~~~

Left, Right. Left, Right.

You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands. 

Left, Right…

Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet. 

Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him. 

“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys. 

You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.

“I- I’m fine. I just need-” 

Left…

Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes. 

“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood. 

You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide. 

Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks. 

“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.

“R, what happened?” 

“...Shot.” You forced out. 

Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”

Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”

The boy looked up meekly. 

“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”

“On it.”

“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”

Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies. 

“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”

You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap. 

“Hood, keep her awake.”

Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.

“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”

Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.

They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed. 

“Tim, keep her still.”

His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.

“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.

“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.

Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand. 

“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.

You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I love you all.”

Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision. 

“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb. 

A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.

“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”

The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through. 

~~~

Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce. 

The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.

  Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes. 

He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”

“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.

The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”

Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up. 

“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”

“I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.

“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug. 

“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear. 

He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”

You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”

You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”

“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”

Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head. 

“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second. 

And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”

“But-”

“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Wind felt miserable.

Not that he hadn't felt worse, of course. Because he totally had. Getting almost killed by Ganondorf? Way worse.

But still. He felt pretty bad.

His head was pounding. His nose was all stuffed up. His throat was scratchy, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. It wasn't the end of the world, really. It just... sucked.

Wind shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He could see dull light shining through the window, an indication that the others would likely be getting up. He wasn't keen on being the last one up (not that it was possibly - Sky would likely sleep another hour at least, if allowed); the last thing he wanted was for the rest of the group to think he couldn't handle a simple cold.

Sniffling, Wind slowly sat up, wincing as he swallowed against his worsening sore throat. He remembered when he got sick on his first journey. He remembered how isolating it was, all of a sudden, not having anyone to take care of him. He remembered learning that he had to rely on himself.

He knew he didn't necessarily have that same issue here. But everyone else had been babying him enough. He didn't need to give them an excuse.

But he felt miserable.

"Sailor?"

Wind jumped, startled, looking up to see Hyrule hovering over him. His friend had a strangely wary look to him, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah?" Wind winced at how bad his voice sounded.

Hyrule's eyebrows drew downward and together, concentration written on his face as he leaned forward to put a hand to the teenager's forehead. Wind immediately reeled back, swatting him away.

"I'll be fine," Wind insisted. He felt bad for rebuffing the traveler, but stubbornness and pride overruled. He was a Hero of Hyrule just like the rest of them, he didn't need special treatment for a cold.

"It's dangerous to assume so when you can sleep somewhere safe," Hyrule noted, letting his hand fall to his side. "Get some more rest."

"I'm okay!"

"It's way too freaking early for people to be yelling," Legend snapped as he stormed over. Wind shriveled back a hair, knowing how irritable the veteran hero could be this early in the morning, but then he puffed out his chest in defiance.

"Yeah, well, Traveler's babying me when I don't need it," Wind argued.

"You sound like a goose blowing through a bugle," Legend immediately fired back, crossing his arms. "We're not leaving yet anyway."

Wind was outnumbered and he knew it. It didn't help that his own mind and heart were at war, desperate for some comfort when he felt so poorly but also trying to save face.

The door opened as Wild reentered the room, having likely woken up ages ago. He paused when he saw the trio, tilting his head to the side. "What's up?"

"Our sailor is sick," Hyrule reported.

"Oh. Want some tea?"

Wind wilted into the bed. Tea sounded great, actually. But what sounded even better was his grandmother's soup, his pillow fluffed, the sound of the ocean lulling him back to sleep, and his family's warm presence. The fight was quickly draining out of him. He just wanted to stop feeling awful.

He tried one last time, though the sound of defeat was already in his tone. "I'll be okay, guys."

Legend hummed. "Wonder what the captain of the old man would think of that."

Wind stiffened. "Don't you dare!"

The veteran laughed. "Then lay back down, you congested goose."

Huffing, Wind irritably tucked his feet back under the blanket and glared at the trio as he laid down once more. Legend smirked in smug satisfaction, while Wild gave a gentler smile, leaving to presumably make tea. Hyrule watched him the longest, expression gentle, before nodding to himself and plopping on his own bed, fiddling with his bag.

Wind wasn't sure when he had fallen back asleep. All he knew was when he woke it was to someone brushing hair out of his face, it was to the smell of peppermint, the gentle murmurs of several voices, the pitter patter of rain on the roof, the soft glow of candlelight. He peeled one eye open blearily and saw Time sitting beside his bed, gaze elsewhere while his fingers mindlessly twirled a lock of Wind's hair. Someone was talking to him, it seemed. A cup of tea was on the nightstand, nice and warm as steam curled lazily from its contents.

One last, tiny, stubborn voice protested the scenario, eager to prove himself. He ignored it. He felt miserable, and he wanted comfort. Wind let Time continue to card through his hair for a little while longer. Then he'd sit up and drink the tea Wild had made.

Then he'd let his newfound family take care of him, just like he always did back home.

[theqhreator42]

There's something to be said about how every single shootout in the Breaking Bad setting is profoundly pathetic. Shots are almost never well-aimed, the combatants rarely have time to take cover or consider their tactics, people die in grotesque, absurd ways, and everyone always loses.

For me, the exemplar of this style is the final shootout in Breaking Bad (not counting Walt's machine gun gambit in Felina), where Hank and Steve confront Jack Welker's gang alone in the desert. On paper, it seems like a typical heroic climax: Hank and Steve stand up to the gang with no hesitation and prepare for the fight of their lives. The actual outcome, though, is more prosaic: totally outnumbered and outgunned, they are mortally injured without grazing any of the Nazis, and Hank dares Jack to execute him as Walt begs in vain to spare his life. The agents' desperation to preserve their honor by apprehending Walt alone becomes their doom.

Meanwhile, the closest the setting gets to a traditional "final badass duel," the confrontation between Gus and Lalo in Point and Shoot, ends with Gus tripping a circuit breaker, awkwardly ducking behind a bulldozer to pick up his hidden revolver, dumping all six shots at Lalo's general direction, and then collapsing under his own injuries. Lalo's final living act is to cackle at the sheer dumb luck of the situation as he drowns in his own blood, before Gus's minions bury him in the same pit as Howard (in case anyone believed that Howard, Sylvia, Mateo, Fred's family, Cheryl, or any of the other people bereaved by Lalo got a grain of justice here).

Even the final combat scene of the entire setting, the El Camino duel, has little heroism: Jesse wins the duel against Neil by breaking the rules and firing a second gun hidden in his jacket, then frantically dodges Neil's colleague's gunfire, picks up Neil's gun, and shoots wildly at the colleague, who takes a bullet straight in the head and comically falls face-first into a glass display case. We are happy to see Jesse live, but he doesn't improve himself by surviving this fight — he simply survives.

It's one of many elements of the Breaking Bad setting's cinematography that I really admire: the refusal to glorify violence. Every protagonist becomes an accessory or perpetrator of murder at some point, but none of them are improved by it, and it is never pretty, gratifying, or righteous. In a strange way, the rejection of violence as a positive act feels deeply humane.

[syllvane]

familiar hearts- tolya yul-bataar x reader

a/n: half based on a request but kind of took on a life of its own! gender neutral, Nikolai’s sibling. can be read as a sequel to soldier, poet, king, but can also be read separately. marche is the reader’s privateer name.

They kill the Healer first, hands bound and throat slit, ruby red blood staining their garments and nothing they could do except scream, alert the rest of the ship that there are intruders.

They have Grisha of their own as well, ones who engage the Grisha on the Volkvolny.

And the Grisha on the Volkvolny are outnumbered, but they are excellent.

Tolya and Tamar fight in complete synchronization, perfectly able to predict the others move before they’ve even done it. 

Tidemakers work in tandem to try and keep the sea calm while knocking off the otkazat’sya pirates, trying their best to even the numbers, Durasts bend the metal of swords and rifles, making them all but unusable.

Even you and Nikolai are in the fray, as much as he would prefer that you stay safe, you would hear none of it.

The crew of this ship are more your family than the royals preening in Os Alta and besides, you’ve never been one to shy away from a fight. 

Nikolai is swordfighting the captain of the other ship, though he seems to be verbally jousting as well with them, judging by the remarks that you’re able to overhear.

You make your way through several of the otkazat’sya pirates- they are good, but they are not you. 

You are a flash of blade and blood and for a moment, you see that Tolya hesitates while he’s admiring you, doesn’t block when he should and a blade plunges into his flesh.

You don’t allow yourself to scream, to distract anyone else as you dashed towards him, blades tearing at your skin, and put yourself in front of him, protecting Tamar’s blindside and her brother.

You’re easier prey for the Heartrender that Tolya was fending off, and you can feel your heart begin to slow as you swing wildly.

You don’t allow yourself to fall, even when you should be unconcious on the ground next to Tolya, and when you think you’re about to, a gunshot rings out and the Heartrender falls dead. 

Your brother, livid, holds the smoking gun and with the rest of the pirates dead, rushes over to you.

“Are you okay? Do you realize how stupid-” His sentence stops, his gaze going behind you, to Tamar kneeling over her dying brother. “Oh.”

You collapsed to your knees as well, looking at the man that you would’ve died to save.

You put your hands on his arm gently, shaking your head.

“You can’t go. You can’t die.” You said, your voice breaking.

“You looked… magnificent out there.”

“No, Tolya, you don’t get to die. Not yet.” You said, more assurance in your voice and Tamar looked at you miserably.

“There is nothing you can do.”

Nikolai grabbed your shoulder, as if to pull you away and you shook him off.

You closed your eyes. 

You can’t die. Don’t leave me.

You don’t see it, of course, but tissue begins to stitch itself back together- slowly, a Healer with no experience at all was trying to mend something that they loved.

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.

“Marche.” Nikolai said hesitantly. You ignored him.

It’s gruesome to watch, how flesh moves like thread to reconnect itself.

“Marche.” Tolya said, his voice no longer weak and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him sitting, leaned against his sister and everyone on the ship looking at you.

And before you can notice your handiwork, your head hits the deck of the ship and the unconsciousness that you’ve been staving off greets you like an old friend.

When you wake after what feels like the longest sleep in your life, it is in Nikolai’s chambers and with Tamar sitting next to you.

Before you can say anything, she turns to look at you, feeling your heart speed up.

“You saved my brothers life,” She said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll spend my life repaying that debt.”

You shook your head.

“Whatever I did, I did freely. Out of love.”

Tamar smiled and sniffed.

“He’s been in here reciting poetry to you, whenever he isn’t above deck.” She said, a smile appearing on your lips before she looked up at the ceiling. “He’s been listening for any differences in your heartbeat, so I’m sure Nikolai and him will be down here any moment.”

As if on cue, there was frantic knock on the door and without wait for an answer, the door opened, revealing Tolya and Nikolai.

“Be gentle.” Tamar said sternly. Tolya paid no attention, rushing forward and embracing you tightly, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“Thank you.” He mumbled quietly, his words a prayer against your skin.

“It was nothing.”

Nikolai cleared his throat and Tolya smiled, pulling away from you and granting Nikolai access to you.

He smiled at you, striding across the room to hug you, more gently than Tolya.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the Volkvolny ran me over while I was asleep.” You half-joked before realizing your mistake as Nikolai began to fret over you. “Nik I’m fine, I feel fine.”

“You scared me. You scared all of us. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. Is everyone else okay? How many losses did we suffer?”

“You need to worry about getting better before you start worrying about others. I say this as your brother and as your Captain.”

“Tolya?”

“We’re in rough shape, but most of the crew survived.”

“Since when have you started taking orders from her?” Nikolai frowned. “Don’t answer that. Promise me that you’ll get your rest before you start healing others.”

“I don’t even know how I did it the first time.”

“Exactly, all the more reason to rest and wait until we can make a stop in Novyi Zem where you can learn from teachers.”

“Nik, I can-”

“No. I love you, and I know you just want to help our crew. I want to help them as well, but I can’t lose you. You have no idea what it was like, watching you fall unconcious.” 

You didn’t say anything before nodding silently.

“Okay.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking a step back.

“Well, I better go make sure that the crew hasn’t mutinied.” He said lightly and you rolled your eyes.

He smiled, giving you a nod before exiting. Tolya made to move but Tamar reached her hand out, shaking her head.

“I’ll go. You two can chat.” She smiled and Tolya gave her a grateful look, moving to take her seat as she exited, the door clicking shut.

“How did you heal me?” He asked slowly and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I… I don’t know, I just kept thinking over and over again that I couldn’t lose you. So, sheer willpower, I guess.” 

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Loving you has always been easy.”

[clawbehavior]

we're five episodes into Shogun, which means we're halfway through the series and all the major plotlines have been introduced and the characters characterized. and i'm starting to notice things. 

namely, toranaga is becoming increasingly unlikeable. it started when he abandoned blackthorne to die after being saved by the man hours earlier, but it reached its peak with the return of the young heir's mother and the reveal that she's using the council against toranaga to protect her son. because then what is toranaga going to war for? we were told via the dead king's widow that toranaga needs to protect the young heir against the council, but clearly that's not true. so what's he doing? it bothered me that toranaga could be so kind to the young heir, playing with him and advising him, while neglecting his own son, whose insecurity around his father was so transparent that he was easily manipulated into starting a war. but then i wondered if toranaga was showing his true self (his third heart) to his son. that scene where he says "you categorize everyone as enemies and friends when you only have yourself" implies that he sees everyone as a potential enemy, which can only happen if his self-interests are at odds with everyone else's. seeing the end of episode five, i think toranaga is not what he seems. we know he can be duplicitous. he plays uncle and nephew against each other so easily, getting rid of the problem of their growing power by doing so. i think the falcon motif that's ever present in the show represents toranaga, flying against the sun so his prey can't see him until it's too late (episode one). he's fooling everyone, including his allies, which brings me to my next point. 

mariko's story is not going to end well. i didn't know why this was a limited series with no chance of a season two until we got her backstory. mariko is straight up suicidal, just looking for a purposeful/honorable way to do it. if blackthorne can see this within days of meeting her, across a huge cultural divide and despite language differences, then toranaga has clocked this about her too, which doesn't bode well for her life. the mariko-blackthorne-husband love triangle subplot serves a deeper function of revealing her psyche to us.  she can't let go of her feelings of injustice and dishonor from her family's deaths. (the flashback we get of her past shows her father's haunted expression because that's how she remembers the event, with horror rather than disgust for his actions.) this is why she tells blackthorne the truth about her family when ordered to by her husband, even though blackthorne tells her to lie and tell him something else because her husband won't know. mariko can't let go of what happened to her family (and her husband doesn't let her). she's been spiritually dead for ages and the return of her husband from the dead not only means she cheated, which someone with her honor code can't live with, it means she cannot be happy with blackthorne. her tragic past coupled with her strong feelings towards honor/dishonor makes her easy for toranaga to use, though it's unclear for what.

interestingly, mariko and blackthornes' opposing ideologies are why they survived and found each other. mariko resists quietly, inside her soul (the eightfold fence), turning to her Christian faith and becoming devout and learned in Portuguese to speak with the priests. this is how she ends up as blackthorne's translator, a position of power and later romance. blackthorne, in contrast, resists outwardly and every step of the way. that scene where toranaga tells him to give up because he's outnumbered and blackthorne replies "unless i win" captures his character perfectly. he's going to fight until the last second, which is why he survives the journey to Japan, and why he gets separated from his men and integrated into a foreign culture, and why he steers the ship to safety rather than being left behind to die. that stubbornness to live shows up as a tendency for breaking all the rules, the result of which is meeting mariko and unintentionally getting her to fall in love with him. it's so fascinating how their ideologies have set them apart from their own people and brought them together while indicating their incompatibility. 

the show does a good job of layering characters and keeping them consistent, so i have faith that they'll return to yabushige's scary character. him torturing a sailor to death in pursuit of an existential question in a way so barbaric that it scares even the villagers did an excellent job in setting the tone of the show in episode one and setting the show apart from other historic period dramas. so it's disappointing to see him turn into a conniving goofball. hopefully this is a short term thing. 

i haven't been so intrigued by the political machinations within a show in a long while, probably since GoT. can't wait to see how the rest of it plays out 

gif below courtesy of @yocalio. look at toranaga's face shadowed in the sunlight. we don't fully know him.

[findmeinforks]

Not Letting You Go Easy - Part 3

*****18+ ONLY*****- THATS RIGHT - MY FIRST SMUT. AHHH. There's a reason I read it but don't write, so if it's terrible, I tried my best. Let me know what you think ❤️ 2.6K

Tears streamed down Emily's face. Paul had been out the door and already phased before Sam hung up the phone. He quickly kissed Emily on the cheek, telling her it wasn't her fault, and that they'd handle it.

"Let's GO." The alpha commanded.

One by one the pack members followed behind, using the mind link to communicate.

"The red head has her. She brought more vampires with her this time. They're in Cullen territory by the border. She won't back down without a fight," Sam announced.

The wolves sped through the trees, expertly ducking and dodging anything in their path.

"How did they know she took her?" Quil questioned.

"The pixie haired one can see visions of the future. She...she said that Victoria had ran Y/N off the road." Sam was careful while speaking, knowing Paul was already going ballistic in his own mind.

"She wanted to kill her but they got there before she did. Now she's using Y/N as leverage for Bella."

Paul growled loudly. Even with an extraordinary temper before he imprinted, he had never felt this amount of anger in his life. His heart might as well have been on fire as he desperately tried to block out images of you being hurt. His mind raced as fast as his legs took him, a mile a minute.

If he had just told you, this never would have happened. He would have gone back to Emily's and you'd be sitting there waiting for him, looking as beautiful as ever. He would have pulled you aside and told you that yes, he wanted you to be his girlfriend. That there was not a single doubt in his mind. He didn't want there to be anyone else. No one compared, or even came close. He would have whispered sweet nothings in your ear while taking you upstairs, ignoring the boys hollers. He would have taken his time with you. He would have spent the rest of the night showing you how much he loves you.

Shit. He loved you.

'My fault. My fault. My fault.'

"You can't blame yourself Paul. You have to focus. We'll get her home." Jared assured, seeing his mind spiral.

They slowed down once they crossed into Cullen territory, using their heightened senses to scout out where the blood suckers stood. This land was unfamiliar to them, and they had to be on guard.

"Everyone stop. Don't make a sound. They are just over this hill." Sam said as they approached the clearing, hidden behind the trees.

"We can't protect her over here. What are we going to do?" Jared asked.

"We have the doctors permission. They'd be outnumbered otherwise. They also feel responsible for why Y/N is involved in the first place."

"They'll have to do a lot better than an apology," Paul snarled.

"Easy. Our primary concern is Y/N's safety. We take out the ones intruding on their land, get her, and go home."

Paul wanted to scream. It took everything in him not to say screw alpha's orders and attack the bitch that would dare hurt his imprint.

But Sam had a point. He counted at least 12 additional vampires, eyes scanning every pale face until they landed on you.

Fuck.

You were tied to a tree, blood trickling from your hairline down to your soaking clothes. One of your arms shown deep purple bruises that led a trail up to your shoulder. Your head hung low as you appeared barely awake, and you were violently shaking from being wet in the winter air. The rope rubbed harshly against your skin, making it additionally difficult to breathe. Being tied up was purely used as torture, one of them alone easily able to over power you.

Two of her minions stood on either side of you, even though it was very clear that you weren't able to go anywhere, or could if you tried.

"She has NOTHING to do with this! Let her GO!" Bella yelled, standing close behind Edward. She had her hands in her hair, nearly in tears as she watched you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"She's right Victoria. Y/N never knew James or anything that has happened. She's innocent. Let her go and we can discuss this further, in a civil matter." Carlise spoke, trying to negotiate with Victoria, who stood in front of all of them.

The cunning smile she wore on her face showed that she had no fear of the repercussions this would cause. This was a carefully thought out plan. She wasn't here for any old civil conversation. This is what she wanted, and she wasn't going to comprise on anything. She wanted revenge.

She remained silent as she turned to look at the one beside her.

"Kill them all."

That woke you up. You mustered up enough energy to lift your head up, eyes wide as you watched the absolute chaos unfold in front of you.

A thunderous movement could be heard from across the forest as both the vampires and wolves charged at each other.

Fast. Swift. Brutal.

Limbs of the small army flew every which way. Bones cracked under sharp teeth and necks shattered like glass when torn off their bodies.

The Cullens were swift and agile while the wolves were aggressive and cruel.

Not one of these new vampires even stood at chance at the level of experience everyone else had. Minutes felt like hours as you watched each fight closely, sighing of relief each time one of them fell.

You had your eyes mostly on your imprint. Silently cheering him on in your mind, trying your best to ignore the excruciating pain.

Your heart ached at the realization that this wouldn't have happened if you didn't leave. You should have just waited for him. Brought it up when it was just you two. Have a conversation. Then tell him that you wanted more than anything to be his girlfriend. You loved him.

Wait, you loved him?

Victorias face changed quickly as she watched what she had assembled fall at the hands of her enemies. She sent daggers at Bella who had Jacob in front of her, teeth bared and ready for anything that came their way.

Instead she sped over to you,

"You're coming with me." She said angrily trying to undo the ropes. You whimpered at the pain as they unraveled, looking up to see the large silver wolf you knew all too well.

He stalked her like prey, like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment.

Within seconds he lunged at her from behind. With the help of Jacob, they chewed her up and spit her out like she was last nights dinner.

You started to cry tears of relief, sobbing when you saw the very last rogue vampire get torn in half. The wolves and Cullens frantically surveyed the area, on alert in case they had missed one. Your silver wolf went behind a tree, moments later emerging in human form, desperately freeing you from the last of the rope.

Your teeth were chattering so bad you couldn't speak. When you tried, you coughed up blood instead.

"Hey, hey hey. Shhh. Shhh. I got you baby. You're safe. I'm gonna get you some help, okay?" Paul coaxed as he wiped away your tears.

He got ready to stand when you frantically grabbed his shirt, barely able to make a fist.

Paul felt his heart nearly break as he knelt in front of you.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm gonna have to lift you up okay? We have to get you some place warm."

You nodded, still sobbing as Jared and the others helped Paul maneuver you in his arms, careful of your injuries. You gently rested your head in his neck, whimpering at the pain.

"I'm so sorry about everything Y/N." Bella approached them when you could feel Paul's chest rumble with a growl.

"I think she's had enough of that." He spat.

"I can come over to help." Carlise offered, while trying to cut the tension.

Before Paul nearly phased at the idea, Sam spoke for him.

"That would be great." He looked to Paul, "Sue is out of town. We can take her home or she can go to a hospital."

Paul clenched his jaw.

You clung to him the entire way back to Emily's. He slowly helped you out of your wet clothes, opting to cut your sweater after you had yelped in pain.

Carlise entered with an IV and a case full of medical equipment. Sam followed behind him, monitoring to make sure Paul behaved.

The vampire worked quickly, giving you medication, stitching and bandaging you up as best he could.

You cried out when he had to put an ointment on an open wound, Paul nearly jumping out of the chair by you.

Sam had to forcefully shove him back in his seat, threatening to kick him out of the room.

"That should be it. I'll have Bella bring over anything else needed."

Carlise said as he started to pack up.

"Thank you." Sam extended his hand to shake. He turned to Paul, who followed suit.

As much as he despised the man, the only thing on his mind was that you were alive and safe.

Sam followed Carlise to the door, leaving you two alone.

Paul turned to you, eyebrows furrowing as your lip wobbled.

He rushed to your side of the bed, sitting down gently.

"Hey, what's wrong? What hurts? Do you need water? Are you hungry? I can-"

"I don't need anything. I'm just. I'm so-so sorry." You sniffled, voice hoarse.

"Baby...what the hell do you have to be sorry for?" He took one of your hands in his while the other ran fingers through your hair.

"I should have stayed. None of this would have-"

"Stop that right now sugar. Nothing is your fault. I should be the one saying sorry. I promised you I would be honest about everything that goes on. I kept it from you thinking I was protecting you."

"You did protect me." You gave his hand a light squeeze.

He smiled. "I would tear through every blood sucker in this world to get to you."

You blushed. Paul leaned over, cupping the side of your face as his lips pressed ever so softly onto yours.

He started to pull back when you grabbed ahold of his hair to bring him closer, not wanting the moment to end.

Paul must have felt the same way, easily on your mouth again as he glided his arms around your torso.

"Mmph...Paul." You held a hand on his chest after a few minutes. You were still close enough that your noses still touched.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

You giggled. "No not at all. I just...I wanted you to know that I, uh...I would love to be your girlfriend."

Paul cracked the biggest smile. If this was a dream, he'll absolutely fuck up anyone that dared wake him.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." You grinned

"Well that's good because I wasn't planning on you ever leaving this bed," he bit his lip as he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, taking a fistful of his shirt and kissing him with all the strength you had.

You had a boost of exhilaration after tonight's events. You didn't know if it was the bond strengthening or the thought of damn near losing him, but all you could think about now was needing him.

Your hands hurriedly reached out, starting to unbuckle his pants. Paul's hand stopped yours.

"Babe, we don't have to tonight. You need to rest...." He said as he sat back to look you in the eyes.

You huffed.

"I have, like, one broken bone and a couple stitches."

He looked at you incredulously as if to say that was validation enough.

You sighed.

"Please baby. I just need you." You whined.

Paul didn't need much more convincing than that,

"Okay, okay. But I'm gonna go slow. And I want you to stay laying down. Let me do the moving. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded happily, kissing him once more.

Your tongues mingled as his hand trailed under the sheets, sliding past the little shorts you had on, cupping your heat.

You lifted your hip as best you could, signaling you wanted more. With your silent permission, Paul dipped his fingers in your pussy, a guttural moan leaving his lips.

"Fuck baby. You're so wet."

It was your turn to moan as he slowly worked his fingers in your core expertly. In and out, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

Paul had the ability to get you off in seconds, having memorized everything that got a good reaction out of you.

You gripped his arm, biting your lip as you could feel the build up already.

"Cum for me sweetheart. Cum all over my fingers so I can taste you."

He also knew the words to set you off, crying out his name as your release pooled over his fingers.

"That's my good girl." He smirked as he brought his hand in his mouth,

"Mmm fuck, I missed that. I'm going to need more baby."

He pulled off your soaked shorts, not waiting a minute before diving head first.

Your back arched as he licked, sucked, and ate you out like no tomorrow. Your legs were already beginning to shake, grabbing onto his hair as he pressed his nose in further. He was going feral, gripping your thighs, refusing them to close as he feasted on your pussy.

"Best meal of my fucking life" he murmured.

"Paulllllll, I-I- shitttt" you whined, climax fast approaching for the second time.

He lapped up everything you gave him as you felt like you couldn't stop cumming.

"So good baby. Made just for me," he said, relishing in your sweet juices.

He kissed your clit as he wiped his mouth with his hand, then licking it as well.

You ogled at him, sitting up slightly to tug on his jeans.

He had them off in seconds, pumping his huge, thick cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight. This is what you wanted.

"You sure baby?" He asked as he lined up, rubbing the tip against your folds.

"Please"

With that, he slowly entered you, both moaning in unison the deeper he went.

He was as gentle as ever, thrusting in and out with caution. You hooked your arm around his neck, in which he buried his head in yours.

"You're so soft. I could be here forever." He whispered, littering your neck with kisses.

"So good baby" you murmured, dazed over with pleasure.

"Mm not gonna last long."

Slowly he rolled his hips into you, savoring every moment. Thinking about how lucky he was to have someone as perfect as you.

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah?"

You had near tears in your eyes at the amount of bliss you felt. All pain forgotten as you panted "Yes. Yes Paul. Please."

His thrusts got just a tad quicker, and all it took was you cumming a third time for him to follow behind.

He screamed your name before biting into your neck, creating a hickey as you both rode out your high.

I love you. He thought, but didn't want to say it too soon.

Not knowing you were thinking the same.

You winced when he pulled out, rolling onto the side of the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms as you snuggled into his warm chest.

"Now get some sleep baby," he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You hummed in agreement, already fading into exhaustion.

You jolted when there was knocking sounds on the wall behind you.

"Hey I don't think sex was one of the doctors orders. Let's keep it PG so we can all sleep."

Jared voice could be heard chastising you two.

Paul rolled his eyes and you giggled.

"He's lucky I'm so comfortable. I'll have to rain check kicking his ass." You smiled, both of you eventually drifting off into a peaceful slumber. Perfectly content in each others arms.

Taglist:

@justariellove @florence-end @avis15 @stargirlmarsz @marinalor @ddefeatedvvibe @v4mash @sweatywildpanda @beanbagbitch @noodle81937

[hxney-lemcn]

More Than Friends — Rhys (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summary: what it's like to grow up as childhood friends with Rhys.

tw: mentions of pillagers, village being attacked, mentions of injury.

a/n: I pulled him and immediately fell for the himbo. also, tumblr is killing the image quality 😭

wc: 0.9k

Master List

❥You didn’t really have a choice in being friends with Rhys. He followed you around like a lost puppy much to your parents dismay. He was bad news, trouble always seeming to follow him. You didn’t really mind. Rhys would always show you his bird friends, trying to recite their names he gave them (he would tend to repeat the same name for multiple birds). 

❥You were the first person Rhys showed when he got his gun. He was too little to pick it up, but he dragged it over. At first you were apprehensive. I mean you had only been taught to fight with spears. Such machinery was a bit intimidating. But Rhys quickly reassured you that he’d protect you with his cool new toy…he almost shot a chicken coop getting the two of you in trouble.

❥When you both grew older, your bond grew as well. Rhys never failed to entertain you, and he’d always find himself laughing with you even if it was at his own expense. Even though he joined the Quicksand Claws, he always made time for you. Telling you tales of what glory he’d done earlier that day (when in reality someone else did it while he fed the bird mounts). 

❥Rhys wasn’t the brightest, so he never questioned why his heart speed up in your presence, why he wanted to be in your presence 24/7, why he felt bitter when others held your attention for a little too long. You were really his only friend, the other villagers steered clear of him. He couldn’t compare his relationship with you to anyone else since no one else compared. He loved it when you would compliment him, fuss over him, hell, even when you scolded him.

❥You found yourself endeared to Rhys. You weren’t sure when your care for the red haired man turned from friendly to more, but you found yourself caring for him regardless. He was sweet, albeit a bit brash, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You found it cute when he’d come back with a gift (typically something he deemed cool enough for you), or a new tale of adventure. You found your mood lifting when his smile came into view. 

❥Everything changed the second your village was attacked. Spear in hand, you fought bravely against your adversaries, but they seemed to greatly outnumber your small village. Although maulers found themselves fighting until the bitter end, your village leader deemed it necessary for a retreat. As you tried to escape, you had found yourself in the center of the fight, unable to stop less your life would be taken.

❥You feared it would be the end of you, and although you didn’t want to die, you were glad you were able to help the children escape with the elders. Your stamina was waning, getting scathed more and more. You were at your wits end when Rhys swooped in, shooting in a circle around the two of you. He laughed maniacally as a few of the enemies dropped. Quickly, Rhys scooped you up onto his mount, continuing to shoot his gun at anyone who dared get in your way. And as you stared up at the man you grew up with, you found yourself admiring the way his scared lips lifted up as his chuckles died down. 

❥When you both met with the rest of the survivors, Rhys had made it his mission to take care of you. Cuts, bruises, and blood littered your body, exhaustion weighing down on your limbs. His carefree smile seemed a bit more strained, but he didn’t want you to feel worse than you already did. He tried to make the atmosphere more light hearted, not wanting his own dark thoughts to consume him. It scared him seeing you in such a state, seeing you fighting with your life on the line. He was grateful he managed to get to you in time, and he just had to keep reminding himself that you were okay. Still alive, still with him. 

❥Your relationship shifted after that day. You had grown closer, more affectionate. Rhys found his eyes always searching for you. Your village had been rebuilt, anything left in the rubble of your old village taken (though much wasn’t left from the pillagers). Rhys had stuck by your side, offering to carry you, or have you ride his mount around. It was quite endearing really. He fretted over every little thing, even as your bruises faded and the cuts healed. 

❥Your parents hadn’t been found yet, and the village was unsure of their status, so they had Rhys stay with you due to your wounds. You didn’t mind, you weren’t sure if you were ready to live on your own anyways. Rhys helped make the empty home feel just a bit warmer, even if you longed to see your parents once more.

❥It all led to one night as the two of you conversed over dinner. Your gaze warm as you fondly watched Rhys gestured erratically to emphasize a story of this bird he followed. The little giggles that slipped past his lips warmed your heart as he spoke so fondly of a bird he saw once. All the warmth and affection you gained throughout your years, and you couldn’t hold yourself back. Leaning over, you gently placed a quick kiss, causing Rhys to freeze, his gaze stuck on you.

❥Rhys’ grin widened, his cheeks tinted a light pink. Nothing needed to be said, you both had been the others for as long as you could remember. You were delighted as Rhys giggled, leaning over and reciprocating your previous action tenfold.

[cryptid-ghoulette]

Here in the still

Trying my hand at some raindrop angst with a happy ending. Poor Rain is exhausted and tired of feeling like a burden. definitely not a self insert. (also i probably wouldnt have posted this without @sister-nyx being rad as heck) nothing graphic, but some negative self talk, depression, chronic illness and angst (but happy ending)

WC - 1037

The good days were beginning to be outnumbered by the bad ones, and Rain's resentment towards his broken body was growing, settling into each crack and hollow inside his brittle and increasingly unstable bones. The aches became a part of him, something so familiar that he's worried he'd miss now if it ever left. He hated that thought because he knew it was probably true.

The others were always understanding, doting on him on days he could barely stand, holding him upright long enough to move from one collapsing surface to the next. Mount always had warm tea for him, Lus always let him use her softest blanket, and Phantom was always good for some healing hugs. Still, he wished they'd stop holding him like something so fragile, something that might break if held too tightly. He could feel the mix of pity and love, and the taste lingered sickly sweet in the back of his throat each time they fawned over him.

Some days, even leaving his room felt like too much, wishing desperately that his bed sheets would swallow him like an ocean and never let go. Tired of fighting with his own body, tired of being a burden to the others, especially his precious Dewdrop. It was just all too much.

Today was one of the bad days, but he didn’t know that until he got out of bed, and his knees immediately gave way underneath him, crumpling to the floor with a dull thud, leaving him sobbing into the carpet.

Dew rushed in immediately upon hearing the sound and found Rain on the floor, curled up into a ball, knees tucked as tight against his chin as he could possibly get them. The smaller ghoul quietly leaned over to touch Rain's shoulder, but the pain was too much, and he let out a venom-less hiss, part warning, part plea, unsure what he wanted or needed at this moment, unable to focus on anything other than the pain radiating through his entire body. Startled, Dew quickly pulled his hand back, before placing it down again, making a soothing hum in some small effort to calm him down.

Dew was always patient with him, more than he could ever have expected or possibly deserved. The fire ghoul constantly tried to heal the broken parts of him with equal parts heat and love, never letting Rain push him away, no matter how many times he’s yelled at him out of frustration and exhaustion to just leave him alone, let him rot in peace. He simply holds him, letting the water ghoul yell and cry and kick and scream until he aches, and there’s nothing left to cry.

He knew there had to be a breaking point though, not just for Dew, but for the others as well. A burden can only be carried for so long until it gets too heavy and you just have to put it down, and that's exactly what he was - a burden.

His stomach twisted into knots, his thoughts loudly telling him that Dew wouldn’t want to be with someone like him; he should be with someone stronger, not a weak, achy, broken water ghoul.

Rain's frustration boiled over as he snapped at Dew, his voice shaking with a mix of pain and anger.

"Why are you still here, Dew?"

His words came out sharper than expected.

"I don’t need the pity or constant hovering from you or the others. Just leave me alone!"

His outburst hung in the air, a heavy silence settling between them. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt for lashing out at Dew. He knew the fire ghoul meant well, the fire ghoul loved him, but he was too exhausted to feel remorse at the moment. Raising his voice had made him dizzy, his brain too fuzzy with pain to think clearly.

He looked up to see Dew, his eyes glassy, his face showing a mix of concern and understanding. Dew's hand was still on his shoulder, still trying to soothe him. Even after he told him to leave, even after yelling at him for just trying to help.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest impossibly tight as he let the tears finally fall. The anger finally breaking the wall, drowning him in a flood of emotions; grief, remorse, fear, as he sank fully to the ground.

"I'm sorry,"

Rain choked out between sobs, his voice barely a whisper now.

"I didn’t mean... I just..."

Dew sank down on his knees beside him, gently rubbing the space between his horns.

“It’s okay, Lilypad. Just let it out. I'm right here."

His brain was still screaming at him, he wanted to push Dew away, yell at him, throw out words with such venom that it could never be undone, make the fire ghoul hate him, finally pushing him away for good.

But Dew remained beside him, whispering softly as his thumb smoothed the rough edges of his horns, and despite what his brain was trying to tell him, he felt safe.

Eventually, Rain's sobs quieted, and he tried to push himself up from the carpet, just enough to collapse into Dew's chest, leaning heavily into him, letting his arms wrap around him tightly.

Dew gently lifted Rain's chin up, his heart sinking when he saw just how tired the water ghoul was, eyes a dull blue, red-rimmed, and sunken. He placed a soft kiss on the water ghoul's forehead, quietly asking, “Are you okay to listen?”

Rain nodded, closing his eyes, taking a moment to savor the warmth from Dew's lips.

“I need you to understand. You're not a burden, Rain," he said firmly. "You're a part of our family, and we're here for you, no matter what.” He could see the disbelief creeping over Rain's face; he knew his mind wasn't going to let him believe it, but he kept speaking,

“You will always be wanted, and loved, by all of us,” he paused, considering his words,

“especially by me.”

Rain felt a tug at the corners of his mouth—an honest smile, fragile but real. “Thank you,” he whispered, burying his face back into Dew's chest.

“Anytime, Angelfish.”

[omgiamwish]

Genos, all things considered, believes himself to be very well adjusted. A rogue psychic attempts to throw a wrench in that.

read Don't Think About It on ao3 or below

Genos wasn’t losing the fight, necessarily. He had to be careful not to hurt any civilians in the area, but the group he was fighting- mainly robots- clearly weren’t going all out either if his readings of their energy levels were correct. Genos has thus far taken on very little damage, despite being very outnumbered.

They targeted him specifically. They mean to restrain him, he’s fairly sure. Though for what purpose, he hasn’t the faintest idea.

He means to ask. But he’s yanked off balance. It would have taken him a fraction of a second to correct. The human hands that dart from behind him to press against his temples don’t give him that.

His vision whites out.

His first thought is of a malfunction. Then, damage.

It takes perhaps too long to realize he’s no longer being attacked. That no one is touching him at all. And that he can still see himself, when he looks down at his body.

Something is wrong.

His reasoning slips away from him, thoughts fuzzy, but the conclusion stays.

Something is wrong.

“Who are you?”

Genos turns toward the voice. It’s a kid, a teenager. Despite the familiar face, Genos wouldn’t recognize him if not for the sudden absurd feeling that he knows exactly who it is.

“I’m Genos,” he answers. His voice comes out less confident than he means. “I’m… you.”

The boy frowns.

“That’s not right. I’m human.”

Something is wrong. Wasn’t he fighting someone? Shouldn’t he-?

His thoughts blur. Genos blinks as the figure in front of him goes in and out of focus. He can’t look at their face anymore. His eyes fix instead on their shoes. Genos remembers those shoes; they were his favorite pair, the pair he had right before…

“Was it worth it? Sacrificing your humanity?”

Genos hesitates. But there’s only one correct answer. “…Yes.”

“Can you even imagine yourself as human anymore?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Even so, something compels him to try. To lift his hand and imagine pale skin instead of dark metal. Instead, several iterations of his cyborg arms pass through his mind, before getting stuck on the set he used to use for housework.

“Do you really miss those more than your own skin?”

Genos glares at the figure. “I don’t miss anything.”

The brat raises an eyebrow. “Anything? Not even your fami-?”

“SHUT UP!” Genos springs forward, his fist flying out recklessly. It doesn’t land. Everything blurs. “Who ARE you?!” Genos screams. “What do you WANT?”

“I’m you, aren’t I?” The voice comes from behind him. “The parts you abandoned.”

Something is wrong.

Genos stares at his hands. At the black claws made for pure offense that lasted less than a day.

“I have to avenge them. My family. I have to be strong enough.”

“It’s been four years without a sign. You’re probably too late.”

“I would have heard if somebody had defeated it. Dr. Kuseno would have-”

“There was a whole year before the Hero Association formed. And there are those who act as heroes but don’t report to anyone.”

“Sensei would remember-”

“Would he?”

Genos finally turns toward the voice. The space is empty. He feels ill.

“Was the Mad Cyborg really so strong?”

The surrounding whiteness dims to black and murky greys. Genos twists around, his older model body- the one Mosquito Girl destroyed- reacting slower than he’s gotten used to.

“Or were you just weak.”

Something moves in the darkness. Genos tries to fire at it. Not even a spark comes from his hand. He tries the other hand to the same effect.

“A scared little boy, terrified of dying alone.”

A hand punches through Genos’s chest, right over his core. He gasps, fingers scrabbling at the arm piercing him. The figure before him blurs between the Mad Cyborg and Garou.

And then it all melts away.

Genos is lying on his back. His body is the correct model. He’s staring up at a close ceiling… the roof of a vehicle, maybe. He can feel the vibration of the engine.

He hears movement nearby, and then a familiar voice. “Demon Cyborg?!” Moments later, Fubuki’s face comes into view, peering down at him. “What did that witch do to you?” she murmurs, looking him over as the glow of her psychic powers starts to fill the small space.

It’s only a moment. He watches her concentration turn to triumph and something high in his neck audibly clicks.

Instantly, he grabs her wrist and rips it away from him. He can move now, and he’s thankful, but he just needs- he-

Fubuki’s face contorts into a different sort of fear, so Genos lets her go. She backs up a bit, but doesn’t leave, her eyes never straying from his face.

“Demon Cyborg. Genos. Is there still something wrong with you? Do you need help?”

His fear is unacceptable. Whatever happened is clearly over. He needs to pull himself together.

He sits up, composed, and checks himself over. As he thought, there is only minimal damage to his body, and none that he can’t remember the source of.

“Thank you for your assistance. The last I recall, I was fighting a large group of advanced robots and enhanced individuals. Did they escape after taking me down?”

“No.” Fubuki finally backs out of the vehicle. Genos follows. Outside, there is a good deal of robotic carnage. “My sister did this. We both sensed the use of strong psychic abilities nearby, so we came and…”

“Psychic abilities?” Genos supposes that could explain how he could be taken down so fast and so thoroughly. When he’d researched such things, he’d read about abilities that were less physical than what the Psychic Sisters used. Things like precognition and telepathy.

“My sister took that woman away. I wanted to investigate a little more, though. About what she was doing. And then I found… You’re not hurt, are you? I reconnected something, but was that all she did? The flow of that woman’s powers seemed like she was doing more.”

“It is of no concern.” Genos looks over the scene again. There is truly nothing left to do here. “Please excuse me.”

Fubuki calls after him, but Genos takes to the rooftops. He needs to find something to punch.

[theship-thewalrus]

why had it have to be you?

daryl dixon x reader

what if you died instead of Glenn?

word count: 1358 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: angst, death, blood, gore, real sad yall

The road was hard against your knees, and the night air licked at your exposed skin. With ripped clothes and what felt like hundreds of eyes on you, you were more exposed than ever before. The throbbing pain from your face was not at the forefront of your mind. Instead, it was on the caravan in front of you. Eyes scan the group gaging their reactions, fear, anxiety, stone-faced. They were mixed. You could only guess the fear that was clear on your own face. Fear of the unknown, of what might happen, of what you feel will happen.

Your eyes lock with Daryl's, the man on his knees beside you. He looked sickly, pale from the blood loss. The gunshot going off was still fresh in your mind. How he folded and his blood splashed on the tree beside him. You were fearful then like you were now. Fearing for his life. But he held strong on like he was now. Stone facing. Not showing his emotions for the betterment of others or to keep face, to keep the people around them thinking he was strong. But even with his best effort, he was weak, hanging on by a mere thread.

The creak of a door brought your attention back to the caravan. A shabby-looking man, dressed in leather pranced out of the caravan. A stupid grin on his face and without a care in the world. Why would he care? He had everything how he wanted it. All lined up in perfect order, just for him. "Pissin' our pants yet?" Even how he spoke held cockiness. Like he was untouchable. His steps were heard throughout the group as no one dared to speak up. Too afraid of the consequences at this time. They were outnumbered, and at the mercy of these people. There was nothing they could do.

"Boy, do I have a feeling we are getting close," His eyes scan the group as he made his way to the end, towards Gabriel. You watched and listen as he spoke to the group, looking everyone in the eyes with little remorse for what he might do. He portrayed your group as the villains in this story. If you had never bothered him, he may have never bothered you. But you all knew it was bullshit. That with enough time he'd come knocking at your door looking for supplies. A payment to not come in a kill what little remained of Alexandria. That in some shape or form this was kindness. Only dealing with a small amount was kindness.

With wide eyes, you watched the barbed wire bat move closer to Rick's face. These words not registering to you, only the stubble threat. If he so please he could hit Rick with the bat. He spoke as he walked, waving the bat around like it was nothing, looking at each person with a sickly smile. How that smile burned into your brain, creeping its way into all the little corners of your mind. It was sinister. It was deranged. It was delusional. He spoke as though this was already decided, that they worked for him, that they would not fight back.

The headlights of the car were blinding, illuminating this death circle. You watched him walk closer to you, his boots crunching on the earth you kneeled on. Looking through the strands of hair you watched him eyeball everyone. Weighing them all up in his mind. He was putting a value on everyone and you only prayed you did not fall short. The question he asked lingered in the air for a moment, Rick was broke down to speak up. They had all gotten too comfortable, too soft and their softness had been exploited. This was your consequence.

"For now, I'm going to beat the holy hell out of one of you," His words stung in your brain. One of your friends, your family was not coming back with you. Was not seeing the sunrise one last time. This would be the last thing they experienced. The fear of waiting. The fear of the unknown. The fear of death. After surviving all you had endured one of you was going to finish your journey here. Not dying at the hands of the dead but instead the living.

His teasing words were met with silence as he went around testing everyone. Wanting a reaction from someone, for someone to slip up. Glenn could not keep still as he threatened Maggie. Lurching forward in her defence even if it cost him his own life. For he loved her. But he was only met with grabbing at him and blows given to him. "Nope, get him back in line." Negan couldn't care less about what happened, he seemed rather annoyed with it all, as though this was a chore. Glenn continued pleading as he was dragged back into line. Though no one seemed to care. Hope was lost. You all held no power. Rules were set after Glenn's outburst. Rules should not be crossed. Rules for this execution you had found yourself in the middle of. And yet, Negan teased, he pushed for a breaking point.

It was all like a game to him, going around pointing the bat, randomly deciding. He found this fun, your lives were nothing to him. You weren't the real threat and yet were treated as such. It sickened you to your core. The whistling. How it curled around your head before bouncing around in your brain. He was so relaxed at the chance of taking a life. You felt fear strike through your body as his bat fell on you for a moment, yet your eyes met his. The bat moved to Daryl next, making you tense. Watching from the corner of your eye. Yet, he moved on again. Dragging on this choice of life or death. It made your stomach turn and your eyes water. It made everything that came before this feel like it was for nothing.

The first smack on the back of Abraham's head was sickening. It rang out, the sound of wood meeting his head. A gasp mixed with a cry ripped from your throat. Yet, Abraham did not fall meaning he had another smack and then another and another. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you could not tear your eyes away. How his blood stained the floor and the bat. How it deepened his red hair. How it ruined his clothes. You wanted to move, to save him, to do something. But you could only weep. Only when his head was a mess on the ground could you look away.

Negan then mocked the death of Abraham. Like it was all a big joke,s something for him to look back on and laugh at. A strangled cry let you as your eyes drifted back to the scene. It was so alarming that you could not look away. That your had to keep glancing at it to wrap your head about that mush and body there was Abraham. Again and again and again Negan beat on the already dead man. There was no respect for the dead. Little care for what he had done. Even then he threw the blood in Rick's face, the blood of his friend, his brother, and his family.

You listen as he mocked Rosita. Claiming this was all a consequence, there was a reason. He wanted her to look at the bloody bat, to see how the blood coated the bat and his flesh still clung to the wire. Daryl's patients wore thin from the constant insults to people he saw as family. Death weighed heavily on his mind. For a moment you look at him and all you can see is a built-up rage, a need to act. With your eyes, you plead him not to act. You could not lose him too. But rage was stronger than love. Daryl jumped up from his place and attacked Negan. Only landing a single punch before being grabbed by his man. Even after he was shot and lost so much blood he had fight in him.

It seemed for a moment the uncaring image of Negan broke as he let out an angry no. Two men pinned Daryl down and you were powerless to do anything, to stop them, to cry out. But as the image slipped it returned, speaking of rule-breaking and the consequences this brings on the group. Daryl's outburst would result in another death. The man with the scarred face, Dwilight, offered to kill him with his own crossbow. Only then did your voice seems to find you, pulling out a weak no. A plead to stop. To show an ounce of mercy to you all. Negan's smile stretched out as he looked at you, eyes connecting with your own as you watched a plan form in his mind. Harshly he had grabbed Daryl's head, pulling it back as he spoke about not killing him. He liked Daryl's fire. But he knew killing someone else he loved would be worse than killing him.

You watched him get closer to you, his boots inching closer to your knees. You were fearful for you knew what was coming next. Daryl's eyes were already on you, you could feel them. Negans words did not register to you, it didn't matter what he said the outcome would be the same. Death. The first strike was sickening, right on the top of your head. You could feel it dent slightly, your bones snapping under the pressure. Blood was pursed from your nose and mouth from the hit. You could hear the cries. Cries that would haunt you for your last few moments. They would circle around in your head like a bad song. Cries ripped through you as he hit you again, pushing your face further into the dirt below. Daryl's cries were loud, you were sure some of your blood had stained his skin. You were so close to them that if he just reached out he could stop this. But he could not find the strength.

Blood bubbled up your throat before passing your lips and dribbling down your chest. Blood surrounded you. The colour red stained you. With what strength you had you leaned up once more. The assault had stopped for a moment. You felt numb but full of pain at the same time. Your face beaten in by the bat, breathing was hard, and strangled breaths were not providing you with enough air. Your brain was dying and there was nothing you could do. Moans of pain left you as you looked around at your family. Wanting them to be the last faces you see before the blows continued. They all held sadness at your state. Tears were in their eyes and streaming down their faces as they looked at you in horror.

Negan's mocking words did not register with you. Not being able to hear anything above your slowly beating heart and your own choked breaths. You're body convulsed with tremors, your body shutting off. Your last words were strange and stretched out, a mangled mess of groans and moans of pain. "Dar-yl... I-I'll... fin-find... yo-you." It was a mess of soft words but ones the man could make out.

The next hit of the bat came from the side, knocking you into the dirt below. Your blood spilled out from your mouth on the dirt. You no longer felt it, the pain, the fear, the despair. Hit. Hit. Hit. Until you were nothing more than mush in the dirt. Your body twitches with the last of your life before falling still. You were nothing but a stain now, a memory to your friends. Your presence would no longer bring light. Your words no longer comforting. You were gone, ripped from them, from Daryl.

His heart was no longer the same after that. You were ripped from him like everything good in life. Taken forcibly before your time. Killed in front of him, because of him. He had killed you. He had done it. He swore to protect you. To look after you. But he couldn't do it. He was too weak. He failed you, the love of his life. And for that he will never forgive himself

[ritoposting]

Fierce Devastation Part 1

Hey y'all, so this is my first fanfic post. I'm not on AO3 quite yet, so be patient while I post everything here for now. Welcome to Fierce Devastation, a Linked Universe fanwork about just what happens when adult Time uses the Fierce Deity's mask, and just how dangerous the unbridled fury of a god can be.

Sky stands on a field of devastation. A horde of monsters had attacked during the night, when a majority of the heroes were still asleep and unarmed. It had just been Time and Wind on watch, there to fend them off as everyone else got themselves armed and ready for battle, but there must have been some enemies that snuck behind the two heroes and into the camp, as reinforcements from camp never arrived, the rest of the heroes there stuck fighting their own desperate battle against enemies they were not prepared for. 

It had been a long and grueling battle, mainly because they weren’t at all prepared for such a massive strike at such a Hylia-be-damned hour. ‘Rulie noticed it first, of course. Even after all this time, the boy still slept sitting against a tree, and would wake at the smallest sound. His gear still on him, he did his best to fend off the horde as he tried to wake the other heroes, but out of all of them, only Hyrule and Sky actually slept with a weapon, and it was nearly impossible to wake Sky up. Eventually the other heroes made it into the fray, some hastily grabbing whatever gear was near them, others using whatever came to hand. Legend still could remember watching Wild pick up a pot lid and parry a Bokoblin’s club with it before hitting it over the head with one of his prized pans, then taking its weapon to continue the fight, or Four fighting with a jar of winds and a pair of bladed mittens. The main problem was that they were outnumbered, surprised, and ungeared. Because of this, even though they did prevail in the end (with the heroes defending each other until most of them had some form of weapon in hand), it took too damned long, and the whole time they were fighting, Legend only had one thought in his mind; “Where are Wind and Time?” After a grueling battle, the heroes charged to where Wind and Time were stationed, expecting to charge into battle once more, Legend taking point with his pegasus boots so he could get there first and aid the two heroes, until… nothing. There was no sign of what must have been a huge horde of monsters, no sounds of fighting or monsters in the field outside of the last few corpses which were still fading into dust, and Wind was propped up against a rock on the field, seemingly unconscious. Hyrule ran directly to him, preparing to check him over for wounds, but the rest of the heroes went to search the field for some sign, any sign, of where Time might be.

Searching the field for signs of their aged leader, none of them could find anything. There was no sign of blood or even a struggle, the grass outside of an area around Wind wasn’t even disturbed by any form of human feet, even though it was obvious that there were monsters that were slain there due to the black blood that stained the ground. Not a single arrow, hair, or bootprint was left for the heroes to track, so as the dawn started to approach, Legend, Wars, Four, and Sky broke off of the tracking group to go check on Wind, who was being treated by the group’s healer, Hyrule. Most of his injuries were superficial, though there was a deep gash in his side that seemed to come from some sort of lizal blade; he had then passed out from the bloodloss, so there were no head injuries to worry about. Even as Legend and Wars approached, they could see the wounds knitting themselves up thanks to Hyrule’s life spell and the effects of a potion that had obviously been fed to him. The young hero also had woken up at some time during the healing process, and was helping Hyrule in his own healing by channeling Hyrule some of his own magic power (now when had he been able to do that?), and as the 4 heroes approached, he perked up and waved them over.

“Hey! Captain!” he called out, “Where is the old man? Is he alright?” The four of them watched Wind’s face fall as he saw the grim look that Legend had when he mentioned Time, and then blanched at the look in the captain's eyes. The boy was always the best at reading him, they had known each other for one of the longest periods of time, after all. “Is he… hurt?” he asked, a bit more tentatively this time, his cheery smile disappearing in an instant.

“He is missing,” responded Wars, having promised never to sugarcoat any information to the sailor, knowing how much the young boy truly could take. “There is no sign of a scuffle, or of him running after the monsters. Not that he would, the old man would have gone and fetched the rest of us before doing something that foolish.”

Wind looked up at him, face scrunched up in an effort to keep from tears, and whimpered out, “Captain, he used the mask again. We were fighting them off, but there were too many of them, and then I let a Lizalfols get under my guard, and I saw him reach into his pouch and pull it out and put it on. I didn’t want him to, but he did it to protect me. I’m sorry!” With that, the young sailor started crying and Wars went pale as a sheet. His hand twitched as he reached for his blade, but then backed off from it as if it was poison, and as he retracted his hand and instead kneeled down next to Wind.

“It’s not your fault, Sailor. You did the best you could against a horde of black bloods like these. Even if I had the master sword and Proxi’s help I couldn’t have lasted longer than the two of you did. Get some rest Sailor, I’ll need a report from you when you recover.” Wind nodded at this, and sank into Hyrule’s arms, clearly exhausted but wanting to tell someone. At this, Wars walked away, massaging his temples, and Legend followed him.

“Wars!” Legend exclaimed, following behind, obviously exasperated, “What are you and the sailor talking about?! What mask, what does he mean again! Is there something that you have been hiding from us about the Old Man… is he in danger?”

The captain sighed, and sat down on a rock, clearly trying to think. He knew that now that the Vet had gotten on to him, he wouldn’t let it go, but he really didn’t want to explain all of this right now. He stretched his back and neck to relieve some of the stress and then sighed, before launching into an explanation that would hopefully satiate the Veteran. “You know that I fought in a war called the war of ages, yes?” Legend nodded at this, waiting for more. “That title is more than just a way to denote that it took a long time, Vet. It was a war where heroes and Evils from many times got pulled in to fight on both sides. Two of those heroes were Wind and Time, but not as they are now.”

Legend looked confused at this, his forehead scrunching at that last phrase. “What do you mean, not as they are now?” He asked, oddly cautiously for him.

“Wind had just finished his journey,” Warriors clarified. “He still hadn’t gone back home, and was put out that he had to fight even more before he could. His wasn’t the most drastic change though.”

Legend just cocked an eyebrow at this, obviously impatiently waiting for further clarification. “Get on with it Cap, what was different about time”.

“He was young, Legend, younger even than Wind. He had also just returned from his second adventure. Two adventures before he was twelve, Ledge, you know what that does to a kid.”

Legend blanched at this, completely shocked at what he was hearing. His five adventures had worn him out to the point where he had lost all taste in travel after them, and he was only a teen when he had begun them. To have finished two adventures before even becoming a teen, he couldn't imagine. “So are you saying…”

“Yes, the item in question was the one he used in the war of ages to turn the tide of battle in our favor, a mask with the soul of a deity of war trapped in it. When he wears it, the god takes control and rampages across the battlefield, destroying everything in its wake, even allies and peaceful people. The only thing that had kept it from killing us was that 1 - we cleared out before it was used by him, and 2 - it was limited by the fact that he was a child, confined in the amount of power it could output at once, and limited in duration by his limited magic at the time, but even then, it was strong enough to directly compare to Ganon himself. I am afraid that now, this “backup plan” might have created a monster stronger than anything we have ever faced.”

[mysdrymmumbles]

In the End - A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic - Astarion x Tav

Rating: PG13

Angst

Word Count: 1087

Ao3 Link <3

----

Tav has been there for Astarion over these last few weeks in ways he never knew a person could.

In ways he never knew he needed.

And each time he has been sure they would fail him or reveal that what he needed was just a step too far, they have come through. Sometimes it has made him angry at the world that their paths have not crossed until now.

He wishes he could have met them two hundred years earlier, before he became the broken thing that he is. He wishes so many different things that sometimes it makes his dead heart hurt so much that he is almost willing to claw it out.

He tries to focus on the present, to push down the resentments that this world could leave him without for so long.

Because he has someone now. A lover, a friend, someone who cares.

He does not always agree with their decisions, but he is willing to stand by them, just as they are him.

Astarion intends to walk this path to its end, to kill the elder brain and Cazador and then…

It is almost too much to hope that they will survive both encounters, that they will have a future to decide, something full of promise and choice and freedom.

Real freedom.

He has seen what they can do together, though, and he thinks that this is something that is possible.

His freedom is so close.

When they go back to Cazador’s manor, back to the place that has been his own personal hell for two centuries, there is confidence in Tav’s steps, if not a little concern as they check on him, over and over.

They only ask if he is fine once. But he can feel their gaze—sometimes he catches it, too—as they keep an eye on him. Do they think he will fuck up so close to his prize?

No…

No, they are worried about his feelings or something sweet and adorable like that.

Well, his feelings can wait. Once he has spilled Cazador’s blood, maybe even taken the ritual for himself, he will be just fine. The shadow of his enslavement will have been banished and he will be free.

Desperation builds in him as they make their way through the manor and then down into the depths below.

When he faces Cazador, however, it is just as it has been every other time over the last two hundred years. It does not matter to his master that he has allies—strong allies—standing at his sides. Cazador still sneers at him, still belittles and berates him.

He tells himself that this time is different.

This is the last time.

When he runs forward, so much rage moving his body, he is set on beating that smirk off of Cazador’s face. He is strong now. He has tasted the blood of thinking creatures, he has helped put down gods’ chosen ones. He is no longer bound to follow Cazador’s every order, and he intends to show the bastard just what that means.

Except when he rushes his master, Cazador is not even fazed. Instead, there is amusement in his eyes as he stops Astarion in his tracks, as he binds him for the ritual, like he always intended to.

There is a look in his eyes, for that moment that Astarion stands frozen before him, fist raised and caught by magic.

It tells him that nothing has changed.

Nothing was ever going to change.

This has always been Astarion’s fate, and Cazador is enjoying seeing how Astarion still fights it, even now.

The fight begins in proper as Astarion calls out for help, struggling against the infernal bindings that hold him in place. His gaze darts across the platform as he watches his companions, his allies, his friends.

They were outnumbered coming in, but to be down one more…

To be down him.

This is not how this was supposed to go.

He struggles, each movement a futile attempt at the freedom that has been dangling so tentatively before him.

A voice whispers in the back of his head that maybe it was never real.

Maybe, despite all his desperate efforts, he was never going to be free.

These last few weeks were just the cruelest of them all, showing him that kindness and compassion do still exist in the world, that there is hope, that there is a future.

Just not for him.

And then, in the chaos, there is Tav.

They duck under a werewolf’s swipe as another companion engages the beast properly, and Astarion wants to cry because he knows what they are doing, even as they have to dodge back a step and evade another attacker.

They are coming for him.

Each step brings them closer, and he cannot help but watch their approach, the rest of the world falling away.

When they are barely an arm’s length away, they smile at him. It fills their eyes with a warmth that grips his heart, makes him want to cry.

Their hands reach out to free him.

He can almost feel the warmth of this skin against his when it happens.

A hand grips their face and jerks them backwards, nails digging into their skin. He can see the surprised look in their eyes through those clawed fingers as they falter.

The hand jerks their head to the side and Cazador’s fangs plunge into their neck.

Their face twists with pain. They claw at Cazador, try to find purchase to pry him off, but he is strong.

And he is watching Astarion as he drains them, utter glee dancing in his malevolent gaze.

Astarion’s heart drops.

His lover, his friend, his hero.

Their movements are slowing, the attempts to push Cazador away from them growing weaker with each miserable second that seems to last a lifetime of its own.

And Cazador is loving it.

It is not enough that he is going to unmake Astarion after two centuries of misery. It is not enough that all the torture, all the struggle, all the hope will die here.

No, he has to take away one last thing, to make sure that Astarion sees just how hopeless this has all been.

That he sees that he is the one who led the one he cares about the most, the one who cares about him the most, to this end.

Even in the very end, Cazador has to make sure that it will hurt.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 8- outnumbered

There’s not a lotta emphasis on being outnumbered but it’s there I promise 😭😭 anyways strangers across eras this time around!! Teehee I was sooo excited for this one.

Warning for a bite and a bloody injury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was an eventful morning for the men searching for the heroes of Hyrule. They were just about to eat breakfast when enemies ambushed them, leaving them unprepared and hungry. The enemies didn’t seem to be difficult, they were bokoblins from Rusl’s time, and he said how easy they are to fight, so the fighters didn’t struggle. There were just so many of them.

Talon ducked to cover behind a fallen log when the monsters attacked. He wasn’t a fighter by any means, so instead of making the others worried for him, he always decided to hide away with his pitchfork. He raised his head above the log and watched the fighting, noticing Kass and Linebeck nonchalantly sitting at the log he was using as cover.

“What are y’all doin’?” He asked.

“Watching the show,” Linebeck answered, not looking away.

“Well, they might come over here…” Talon stared at the monsters who all seemed to be distracted by the fighters.

“Don’t you worry Talon,” Kass reassured, “those men won’t let the monsters go anywhere near us. Just look at them!”

Talon sighed and watched them all fight. Leon was easily the strongest fighter here, so Talon had no doubt that an army of bokoblins was nothing to him, and even though Ammon didn’t have his prosthetic on (which Talon still didn’t understand), he was holding his own just fine. Benji surprised Talon the most, he was new to the group so his prowess was unknown, but he seemed to be swinging his unbreakable guitar violently back and forth which was effective against the bokoblins. Rusl was close to Benji, keeping his distance from the dangerous swinging of course, but close enough that any straggling bokoblins wouldn’t hurt him.

Talon watched while they fought, and it was a long while until a markless bokoblin was killed and the rest fell. Ammon let out a sigh and stabbed his sword in the ground, shaking his one good arm with a pained expression on his face.

“Goddesses, we need to look for the markless monster faster,” he said, mostly to himself. Leon shrugged.

“You did good with just one arm.”

“Well I’m not going to let myself be helpless with just one arm,” Ammon said with a smile. He began walking towards his tent. “It’s a bit early but I’m going to put my other arm on, fighting with one isn’t very comfortable.”

“I can imagine,” Leon muttered, following him. Rusl watched them for a moment then turned to the huddled group, who were beginning to wander around.

“Are y’all alright?” He asked.

Linebeck gave a thumbs up. “You guys are great.”

Rusl rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit. “Well I’m glad we can give y’all a show.”

“It’s truly remarkable watching you folks fight,” Kass gushed, “to have such discipline is incredible.”

“Well the offer to teach you three combat is still open.”

“Oh no, I usually just fly away. Besides, I’m a musician, not a fighter.”

Rusl gestured to Benji, who was cleaning his bloodied guitar.

“Well, uh, he has an indestructible guitar, I do not.”

Rusl chuckled and the men chatted for a bit while cleaning up the dead bodies of bokoblins. With them all being hungry and the fighters being tired, they were ready to make some food to make up for the fighting. Talon stayed behind the log though, staring at the dead bokoblins, until he heard a distant howl. He spun around and saw nothing, but heard the howls getting louder. The others didn’t seem to notice however, and Talon climbed over the log to get closer to them.

“Uh, boys, I don’t think this is over yet,” He said, interrupting the conversations the others were having.

“What do you mean?” Ammon asked.

“I heard somethin’.”

“What did you hear?” Leon stepped forward.

The men all jumped at a loud howl, and a large group of wolfos popped out of the bushes. Talon quickly ducked behind another log and watched as the others split up. Kass grabbed Linebeck with his talons and flew up into the trees. Talon would’ve been upset that he was left behind, but he honestly would rather risk getting mauled by a wolfos than falling out of a tree. He watched as the fighters went back into their fighting patterns, killing the wolfos left and right. Benji’s guitar wasn’t doing enough to kill the wolfos, but it stunned them enough for Ammon or Leon to finish it off. Talon’s eyes wandered over to Rusl who was… doing nothing… wait.

Talon watched in horror as Rusl, pale to the face, stared as the others killed the wolfos. He looked like he was paralyzed, too scared to move. But that didn’t make sense for Rusl, he was never scared of anything. Talon looked at the others, then back at Rusl. They needed his help. There were too many wolfos for all of them to fight against safely, but Talon couldn’t find the voice or the courage to move towards him. He just watched, helplessly. A wolfos noticed the frozen man and got closer to him, and Talon wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He wanted to scream for Rusl to do something, but he just watched as Rusl stared at the large, gray wolfos. It growled and got low, looking like it was about to pounce, and Talon figured that Rusl would at least move to protect himself. But he didn’t.

Talon couldn’t hold back the gasp when the wolf jumped at Rusl and bit down on his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Rusl yelled out in pain as the wolfos let go and tried to aim for his neck, but he fought back this time to stop it, and Talon couldn’t sit around anymore. He let out a battle cry and charged the wolfos with his flimsy little pitchfork. He stabbed its side and the feeling of the pitchfork sinking into the soft flesh nearly made Talon’s stomach lurch, but he pushed on, tearing the monster off of Rusl. The wolfos howled in pain as the pitchfork was pulled out and Talon froze as he realized that it wasn’t dead, and was instead angry. Several other wolfos came by and growled at Talon, protecting the injured wolfos. They were surrounded, and Talon froze up from fear. He felt completely exposed and helpless, left to defend his injured friend when he didn’t even know how to defend. But before the wolfos could attack him, Leon came to the rescue, and killed all the wolfos surrounding him.

There was silence, and Talon realized that all the wolfos were dead, and he gave a sigh of relief. He barely fought any of them, yet he felt like he fought an entire army. Boy, he sure was pathetic. Leon stuck his sword in the ground and glared at Rusl, who was clutching his bloody shoulder.

“Rusl, what was that?” He yelled, surprising Talon.

“S-sorry, I just–”

“Why did you let that thing attack you! I saw you, you did nothing!”

“I just… I just froze up,” Rusl said quietly, so quietly that Talon almost didn’t hear him. Leon took in a deep breath, then let it out, calming himself down. He gave Talon a look and gestured to the injured man and Talon nodded.

“I’ll take care of him,” he said, stooping down to help Rusl up. Talon began walking him to a tent when Kass and Linebeck got back on the ground.

“Kass… don’t you… ever do that again!” Linebeck wheezed, his face a shade lighter than his usual tan complexion. Kass rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m sorry for saving your life. I thought that you’d be grateful that you wouldn’t be anywhere near the wolves.”

“I could’ve died!”

“Oh hush up, I wouldn’t have let you fall– oh!” Kass noticed the bloodied Rusl, and so did Linebeck. The sailor turned around and gagged as Kass covered his beak. “My, what happened here?”

“I-I’m fine,” Rusl stammered.

“Oh, I hope so,” Kass muttered, and watched the two farmers enter the largest tent, leaving Talon alone to do his work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rusl was quiet as Talon cleaned and wrapped up the wound, which was unusual for him. He was usually a chatterbox, especially if he was nervous. Talon figured he would break the silence, just to ease the tension in the room– or tent.

“So… how do ya feel?”

Rusl sighed heavily, seeming to be very annoyed at the question. “I’ve been better,” he put simply. Talon frowned, something eating him up on the inside.

“Look, Rusl, I don’t mean to rub salt in the wound or whatever but… you usually fight back whenever a monster attacks you. Why didn’t you fight the wolfos?”

Rusl’s frown melted into a guilty look, and he turned his head away. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, ok,” Talon should’ve stopped talking there, but he wanted to know more. “Afraid of wolves or somethin’?”

“Don’t like fighting them.”

“Oh, ok.” The awkwardness felt like a heavy weight pressing down on his head, but for some reason, Talon pressed on. “Why?”

“... It’s complicated.”

Talon nodded and finally decided to stop pressing. He gave Rusl’s shoulder a small pat and got up. “Get some rest a’right? Don’t want ya hurting yourself anymore.”

“Ok…”

Talon sighed and turned to the tent door, before looking back at Rusl. He was staring blankly above him, barely moving at all.

“Hey, I don’t think that Leon is that mad at you.”

Rusl smiled slightly. “I know.”

“So don’t let his yappin’ get to you. I’m sure he’s just worried ‘bout you is all.”

“Heh, well, it’s fine. That’s not what’s bothering me.”

“Then what is it?”

Rusl lifted his head and gave Talon a look. Talon lifted his hands up defensively.

“No, sorry, lemme guess. It’s complicated?”

Rusl smiled and rested his head back on the pillow, and Talon smiled awkwardly.

“Well, I should go, I’m sure the others will want to know that you’re a’right,” he announced, and he looked behind him one last time before leaving, seeing Rusl’s smile gone again. Whatever was truly bothering Rusl, Talon only hoped that he could get over it. But he didn’t want to talk about it, so for now, he would be left alone on the matter.

[7-wonders]

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” with anakin please? also i love the way you write him, you’re so good!

I should try to write something other than Sith!Anakin, but alas, I cannot. If you've seen Clone Wars, this is modeled off of the episode where Obi-Wan and Anakin get captured alongside Count Dooku and the three of them have to work together to make it out.

#10: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

In hindsight, trying to make a deal with Hondo Ohnaka and his gang of pirates without any sort of backup was not your best idea. They had tricked you, ambushing your ship when you landed at the coordinates you were given after paying for information as to the whereabouts of a small group of Jedi that you were hoping to recruit into the Rebel Alliance. Considering you still haven't had any formal training and you were heavily outnumbered, the pirates easily stripped you of your newly-constructed lightsaber and knocked you out.

You've been knocked out far too much for your liking since having joined the Rebels, but it's all for a good cause. At least, that's what you tell yourself when you finally come to on the cold concrete floor of a prison cell. You're disoriented, and you wince when you rub at the painful lump on the top of your head from where Hondo had hit you. Great, you're cuffed! Just what you need.

Even with your confused state of mind, it doesn't take long for you to sense that there's someone in this cell with you. You just hope it's not a pirate that's going to finish you off before you even have a chance to fight back.

"Well, well, well, look who it is!"

That voice. You've only met in person once before this (though he's been in your dreams far more than you'd care to admit), but you'd be able to pick that voice out of a crowded room immediately. He's obviously taking great pleasure in your current predicament, and you scowl before stumbling to your feet and glaring into the golden eyes in the other corner of the cell.

"Y'know, Rebel, if you wanted to see me again, you didn't have to go to such extreme lengths to do so."

"Anakin," you greet with as much malice as possible, knowing that, even if he wanted to kill you (which he doesn't), he couldn't. "You've stooped to working with pirates now?"

"As if I would ever even consider such a thing." He finally comes out of the shadows, and you see that he's cuffed over his simple Sith robes exactly as you are.

You can't help but laugh at this turn of events, even though it makes your head hurt to do so. "Oh, this is great. The mighty Sith Lord Darth Vader, captured by a few pirates?"

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you. After all, we're both in the same unfortunate situation."

That does end your merriment, and you lean against the wall. "Do you know what the pirates are planning on doing?"

"It would appear that they are contacting the Hutts to try and secure a ransom for both of us. After all, two Force-users, one a Sith Lord and the other a high-ranking Rebel, will catch quite a fortune."

"Kriff," you lament.

"'Kriff' is right."

Looking out through the cell bars, you can see that there's only one guard outside. The pirates have probably assumed that you're powerless without a lightsaber. They would be wrong. "Well, I guess we need to get out of here before they can sell us off, then."

Anakin tilts his head with a smile. "Are you suggesting that we work together?"

"We really don't have a choice, do we?"

He comes to stand next to you in front of the bars, both of you silently formulating a plan. You decide to try a mind trick to get the guard to release you from the cell, but before you can so much as lift a hand, Anakin has his own in the air to Force choke the guard. You gasp, looking on in horror (and, you must admit, admiration) as Anakin brings the pirate closer to the cell door.

"If you want to live," he hisses, "you'll unlock the cell now."

The pirate nods frantically, and Anakin releases him from his hold so that he can use his keycard to open up the cell door. When he does and the door swings open, Anakin raises him up in the air with the Force again before crushing his windpipe. He tosses the body to the side as if it's mere trash, rummaging through the dead man's pockets before finding another key to unlock the cuffs.

He undoes his first before grabbing your hand with a surprisingly gentle grip and unlocking your own cuffs. You want to say something, to question why he killed that man or what he plans on doing next, but you can merely stare at him as the atrocity he just committed is fresh on your mind.

"Oh, don't act so scared of me," Anakin scoffs. As if to prove that you have nothing to be scared over, he smiles softly at you. "After all, I've seen the way that you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Your jaw drops, and you try to sputter out an answer now that you've been solidly knocked out of your fear. "I've done no such thing! We've met twice before, and one of those times you were trying to capture me while I was running for my life!"

Anakin smirks. "And what about all of the dreams? There have been plenty of longing looks from both of us in those."

Your stomach drops as you realize that the sanctity of your dreams has been invaded. Somehow, you've been sharing dreams with a Sith Lord. And somehow, you hadn't noticed that you were.

Anakin's already halfway down the hall before he turns around. Though he's just dropped a bomb on you, he doesn't seem to realize or care that it's left you stunned. "Well? Are we going to escape from some pirates or not, Rebel?"