#but then......miss target came to the rescue

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hey! i heard you’re requests were open so i wanted to ask if you could do a hurt/comfort regina x non-binary reader where people are being tr@nsphobic to them and bullying them and regina stand up for them and comforts them:)

Under the Protection of Regina George

Reminder‼️ You do not have to read this fic, you're more than welcomed to skip it as it does contain descriptions of bullying towards reader for being non-binary. This was requested by anon, nobody has to read it if they don't wish to. Proceed at your own risk.

|| Regina George x non-binary reader

(in an established relationship)

|| Warnings: is a hurt/comfort, bullying, tr@ansphobic comments, Regina comforts reader, light swearing

|| Summary: Reader's bullied by jocks who force them into the janitor closet, Regina comes to reader's rescue and comforts them at the end.

Requests open!

~~~

Ever since you came out as nonbinary, it's like you planted the target on your back yourself. The bullying increased. It didn't matter if Regina George was your girlfriend; NorthShore High was ruthless. You haven't brought any of it up to Regina, you learned to deal with it yourself. Not wanting anyone to face Regina's wrath on your behalf. No matter how mean they were to you.

At the end of third period bell, you collected your things and made your way out of the English classroom. Heading for the cafeteria to meet up with your girlfriend and the rest of the plastics.

As you turned out of the class and started heading for the locker (which happened to be in the same hall), you were suddenly picked up. Arms locked by two jocks who held you just above the ground, when your feet kicked in protest they just barely missed the floor underneath you. The jocks laughed and looked at each other with malicious smirks. They carried you off to the janitor closet, your protests heard throughout the hall but people just laughed and recorded. No one bothered to help you. One jock opened the closet while the other shoved you inside, closing the door.

"Should've stayed in the closet, heshe!" One shouted while the other laughed and gave him a fist bump. Right as they were about to push a table in front of the door, someone cleared their throat and got their attention.

Moments before...

Regina, Karen, Gretchen and Cady all sat at their usual spot in the cafeteria. Waiting for you to join them. Regina had already gotten her cheese fries at this point and was taking a bite from them as she glanced at her phone, checking for any texts from you. She frowned slightly when she didn't see anything. Usually you always messaged her right after your class; to let her know you were on your way. If you would be late, you made sure she knew.

"Hey, have you guys seen Y/N?" Regina asked, she couldn't help feeling like something was wrong.

"Like today or ever?" Karen replied, staring at Regina with her usual wide eyes.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at Karen in an 'are you serious?' kinda way.

"Um, no. I saw them in math this morning but not since then." Cady told Regina, you and Cady share math together as a homeroom. Regina bit her bottom lip slightly as she looked at her phone again.

"Oh my God." Gretchen suddenly gasps, she's been looking at Instagram. Her feed full of the videos people have been recording of Y/N and the jocks situation. She looks up at Regina, "Regina, look!" She showed Regina her phone.

Immediately, the blonde's blood boiled. She was pissed. The nerve these people had...

She got up quickly, the entire cafeteria seemed to freeze in place as she stormed out of it and into the halls. People moving to escape her gaze. Nobody wanted to get in Regina's way. It's like the whole school could feel she was pissed.

In moments, she reached the janitors closet. Right after the jock had made that 'heshe' comment and him and his buddy were pushing the table in front of the door. Regina folded her arms and cleared her throat, giving them her signature glare. They froze.

"R-Regina, how's your day going?" The one tried playing it off, leaning against the table in a casual way. The other nodded in a poor attempt at going along. When you heard them mention Regina, you felt a sense of relief wash over you and tried opening the door. Considering it was blocked by the table, it opened only slightly just to be closed again. You let out a frustrated groan and banged your fist on the door.

"Let me out, jackasses!" You shouted, they tensed. Regina's glare sharpened.

"Let. them. out." She emphasized each word through her teeth as she spoke, sending shivers down the jocks spine. They immediately sprung into action. Both pushing the table out of the way so you could open the door. You stepped out and took a breath, you hated the janitor closet; any small space for that matter.

"If I ever catch you so much as looking at them...!" Regina didn't even need to finish her threat. The jocks got the message loud and clear and nodded their heads quickly before scurrying off, Regina gripped your wrist and pulled you away to an empty classroom.

Now alone, Regina's demeanour softened and she sighs. Looking you up and down for a moment before her eyes meet yours, hand moving to rest just under your jawline. Instinctively your head moves into her hand slightly.

"How long?" Regina asks, eyes never leaving yours. Even when you move your gaze from hers.

You hesitated with your answer, which told Regina everything she needed to know. Too long. She pulls you into a hug and you hug back, the two of you staying in silence for a moment; enjoying the comfort of each other.

Regina spoke up again.

"If anyone does anything, I'm being so fucking serious right now Y/N, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way... tell me. Promise you'll tell me." She makes you look at her, keeping her arms firmly wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. You knew she wouldn't let you say no, Regina didn't care if you didn't want other people getting in trouble. She was going to do what she had to to protect you.

"Okay..." You replied, your voice quiet. Not quiet as in a whisper, but somewhere between. You could feel as she relaxed against you.

~~~

End note: I love all of you 🫶 non-binary people are ♾️% valid, I myself use they/them pronouns! Everyone is welcome on my page 💞

With that said, I hope you enjoyed the fic! Any feedback is welcomed.

[barefoothighlander]

Hi! I hope you're well.

I have a request that may not be achievable and thats okay! Really, its just a thought.

What if the reader is a new recruit to the team and has the nickname 'Reaper' due to her skull Balaclava and skill (https://www.tumblr.com/men-wearing-masks/652072573328392192/skull-mask-week-day-47?source=share) from her other teams.

They're mainly a sniper but are amazing at everything. They're smaller than the rest of the team (I'm picturing an afab) but they're silent and bring death with them.

For example; Ghost is noticeable by his naturally intimidating presence but Reaper cannot be noticed unless you're actually looking for them, and when they pass, it feels as if a cold shiver has gone down your spine.

I picture this being a Ghost x reader because they're just as good as ghost, if not better, and everyone teases him about that. Making jokes about how reader is on top because a Reaper is higher up the chain than a ghost. Then I feel like on a mission reader gets sick of it, but in an attempt to be 'part of the team' they make a joke that's sexual in nature about her being on top which just sets ghost off.

If you don't do anything with this, totally understand, hope this wasn't just a silly rant though 'xD

Much love,

🔳

ok, sorry this took me so long to respond to I was trying to flesh it out but I hope it fits what you imagined

warnings: typical violence, death

“Hostiles are taken care of, you’re clear for entry” You call it in through your comms, you’re sat high on a hill, hidden from view by the dark as the team infiltrates.

“Copy Reaper, moving in”

You walk as Ghost and Soap make their way into the building, changing your sight to check in on windows.

“I’ve got eyes on two, south east window”

No response

“Alpha team I’ve got eyes on two, how copy?”

The comms are silent, you don’t think you just move, sprinting down the hill before you’re in front of the target building, you can hear the echoes of gunshots.

“Soap I’m at the entrance, what’s going on in there”

You hear someone inside yell, deciding to rush in to cover, you make your way through the rooms, clearing them before heading up the stairs to follow the noise. You see muzzle flashes at the end of the hallway, you slowly make your way down before turning into a room, Soaps backed against a wall struggling with one of the men, you raise your gun to fire but your arms are quickly pushed away,

“Reaper, on your left”

You struggle against the man in front of you, using your foot you kick at his knee knocking him down, your knife raising to plant in his neck before you pull it out, throwing it across the room, it lands in the shoulder of the man strangling Soap, he screams in pain and Soap is able to push him off to kill him.

“Thanks”

You nod your head, “Where’s Ghost?”

“We split down a hallway, comms went dead a few seconds after”

“Why do these always turn into rescue missions”

“Maybe he likes being saves by you”

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your gun and advancing around the building, there’s no sign of Ghost in the rooms.

“Stay inside, I’ll search the perimeter” You say

“Stick to the shadows” Soap winks

You make your way outside, creeping around the dark spots of the yard as you slice through the few remaining hostiles, you come across Ghost in the garage, he’s focused on some computer as you approach.

“Thought you went missing”

Your presence surprises him,

“Clear the building?”

“No thanks to you”

“I did my part” He gestures towards the two dead men on the opposite side of the room, “Got what we came for, let’s go”

You meet back up with Soap at the front of the house, making your way to the rendezvous point,

"You better thank your God that Reaper was here to save your ass LT"

"I was fine"

"Not counting the hostiles swarming you" You jump in

Ghost glares at you as the three of you make your way onto the heli for evac. Arriving back at base Ghost is practically silent, sparing you few words during your ride while Soap talks your ear off, there's something off about Ghost but you can't place it, you decide to leave it be.

The base is bustling when you arrive, people running everywhere, your attention being drawn all around until Price shouts for you,

"Reaper, need you on the next car out"

"Just me Sir?"

"Just you, need the best" He nudges your shoulder, you turn to see Ghost standing behind you, fists clenched at his side,

"You've got competition LT" Soap jokes running past you, Ghost walks away without a word, leaving you standing alone.

Your mission was a success, in and out, just you with Price covering from the sky. You managed to clear the building without being detected, sticking to the shadows as you dropped hostiles one by one.

Your muscles ached arriving back, simply wanting to shower and sleep except Soap had forced you invited you to join the team for a drink, figuring it was an easy way to fit into the team you accepted.

The team was already a few drinks down when you arrived, Ghost catching your attention as he sat in the corner, leaned back in his chair.

"There ya are" Soap shouts from across the pub, hollering you over to their table, you sit and he hands you a beer, you feel the cool glass against your warm palm, eyes darting around the room.

"So is there something about the masks that the rest of us don't get?" Soap asked, pointing between you and Ghost, you tilt your head in question,

"No, no correlation"

"Just coincidence?"

"Just coincidence" You nod

"Well just seems that LT's been knocked down a peg since you showed up, no longer the scary lad in a mask compared to you"

You glare to your side, you can see how Ghost's face contorts under his mask, fumes practically coming from his face,

"Ghost is just as good as me"

"Ghost can't do what you can believe me," Soap laughs, taking another sip of his drink

"That'll do Johnny" His voice booms in your ears,

"You think you're better than me Ghost?" You say, suddenly filled with courage, he doesn't afford you a response, he simply stares back at your masked face.

"You do" Your words are cut off by Johnny

"Is it that mask?" He turns to Ghost,

"What?"

"S'that why you're always buggin' Reaper, you like them, some sort of mask kink?"

Your eyes go wide at his words, your chest suddenly feeling tight,

"You like a strong woman LT?" Soap laughs

Ghost's next movements are quick, he stands from the table practically knocking over everyone's drinks before his hands are at Soap's throat, Price jumps to pull him off but it's no use.

"Keep your fuckin mouth closed Sargeant"

Soap sobers up instantly, nodding under Ghost's grip before being released, there are murmurs around the pub as Ghost exits, the air is thick with tension.

The rest of the night was quiet, the men keeping their jokes to themselves out of fear of Ghost somehow hearing. The next day on base was even more awkward, strange tension between the team had unfolded as Ghost barely spoke a word to anyone all day.

A few hours later you make your way to the gym, completely surprised to see the Lieutenant there you eye him as you enter, setting up on the large mat in the centre of the room.

You watch as he moves to stand in front of you, his stare pinning you down,

"Ready?" He asks, you nod before lunging at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you dig your feet into the mat trying to push him backward.

You grapple for a few minutes, both of you refusing to tap out, intent on proving you are better than the other, you manage to trip him and he falls with his back flat on the mat. Your legs move to straddle over his torso, your arms pinning him down as you cover his form, your heavy breaths filling the air.

"Guess I really am on top" You laugh

Without a second thought, he thrusts his hips, throwing you off him so he can flip your form, pinning you against the mat, you're caged under his form as he pins you flat, there's no chance of getting out. You writhe against his grip but he doesn't falter, simply staring you down,

"Give up?"

"Not a chance" You continue to struggle against his grip,

"You're just gonna tire yourself out"

"Using weight against your opponent is cheating"

"It's smart, you're small but quick, and I'm more than double your size"

"Get off" You huff

"Tap out"

"Admit I'm better than you"

He laughs at your words, releasing his grip before standing, he lets you get up, your hands rubbing at your wrists as you move across the room, you turn around and he's in front of you. He forces you back his strides pushing you back until you collide with the wall, you tilt your head from him, his mouth inches from your ear, you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin.

"You may be better in the field" He pulls back to face you, his dark eyes glued to yours as your body stands still, "But I'm always on top" You can see his smirk under his mask as he leaves, you're frozen in your spot, his words replaying in your head.

[darlingmbappe]

Begging | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

—Click here for part one!—

Summary: You master plan worked and Kylian needs you now, you need him just as bad. Ditching work is so worth it.

Warnings: SMUT! SMUT! MINORS, GO AWAY. Slight begging, fingering, oral (male + female), pinning, rough but lovey-dovey sex, p in v, cussing, pet names, google translated French, English is not my first language! Let me know if I missed any.

The drive home was an antsy one. You kept shifting in your seat with excitement, your mind flooded by filthy thoughts. You got off of work early and it’s so you can go fuck your boyfriend, the sexy Kylian Mbappé? The stars must have aligned for you today, or maybe the gods have taken pity upon seeing how desperate and horny you had become on the inside.

Your apartment was on the way to Kylians and you knew you had to show up in the infamously photographed lingerie. You knew he wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t, but if you did — god. You needed him so bad. Kylian had obviously been stalking your location because the second you parked your car he sent you a text.

Kyks <3: what are you at home for??

Kyks <3: im not beyond begging bebe

Kyks <3: i’ll beg if you want me to….

You roll your eyes and giggle, changing quickly after sending him something back

You: trust me kyks. I know you’re a beggar ;)

A rush of hot memories came to you. Kylian whined and pleaded with small whimpers and grabby hands. The smallest “please” would always escape his lips unwillingly whenever you teased the poor man, followed by every pet name and groan that his body could forge. These memories made you feel even more needy for his touch, so you snatched your things quickly and sprinted out the door.

When you reached his front door, he swung it open. Kylians eyes were dark, lustful. The stare he gave you almost made your knees buckle, it was like he was a man on a mission, finally setting eyes on his target.

You approached slowly, your lip taken between your teeth. “Hey there, Mbappé.”

“Shut up and get the fuck in here.” He growled. His long frame leans against the door, eyes raking every inch of your body.

You took your time, but as soon as you got close enough, he grabbed your arm, dragged you inside, shut the door and slammed your body against it — all in one swift move. He kept you pinned, his forearms pressed against the wooden door, his face so close to yours. He stared into your needy eyes until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, kissing you so forcefully that your knees actually did buckle this time, one of his hands immediately coming to rescue you, firmly squeezing your ass, holding up your body.

God, what you were feeling was absolutely primal. This was past a pleasure or a want… you needed him. He showed you he felt the same by the way his tongue rolled over yours, then kissed you from your cheek to your neck, breathing in deep, hips grinding so you could feel how hard he was already. His thigh was perfectly slotted between your legs, giving you just the right amount of pressure. You needed more before you passed out from the desire.

Sliding your hands down to his shoulders, you pushed him back to free your lips to tell him you have to have him right now. He looked at you lustfully, bit his lip hard and let you back on your feet. Kylians big hands grabbed your face longingly but with a much more tender touch. “Mon bébé,” he sighed, barley having to lean in to gently nibble on your lower lip, “I’m taking you upstairs.” He growled, reading your mind.

Kylian stepped back and grabbed your hand, beelining to the stairs. Though the pace was fast and urgent, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around yours was comforting… romantic. Something about how he looked back at you had your heart skipping — and not just because of the making out.

He opened the door for you, watching you with intent as you make your way to sit on the edge of the bed. He shuts the door with a slow hand before he begins to saunter over to you.

“Mon Dio…” my god, he mumbles under his breath, getting on the ground right as he nears you, looking up at you with his thick eyelashes, opening your legs for him to slot between them. His hands travel from your jean-clad ankles to your waist, hooking his fingers into the loops and tugging down. You help him out by unbuttoning and unzipping them, he immediately tugged again. Your jeans were so tight that it knocked you on your back from the effort, allowing you to lift your butt to so he’d slide them off and throw them aside.

Kylian hummed at the lace covering the small bit of your skin, but the skin he wanted to see oh so badly. You took off your tank top, tossing it to the side, propping yourself on your elbows when you felt Kylian kiss both your knees, slowly going up inch by inch, alternating between legs.

“Fuck, Kyks. Will you hurry up already?” You groan, biting your lip and watching him behind hooded eyes. He looks up at you, biting your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him to be. You hissed, he smiled.

“No, no.” He tusks. “Not tonight. I’m taking my time with you, bébé.” His lips kissed then licked the bite tenderly, fingers slowly tracing the pattern on the hem of your underwear, sending goosebumps to your entire body. “This new set is doing things to me.”

“Got it just for you.”

With an ego boost and a smirk, he attached his lips to your clothed heat, sending your head back with a small moan. Your hand wrapped around the back of his head, holding him in place as he licked stripes up and down.

“Je suis tellement chanceux…” I’m so lucky, he hummed against you, his fingers finally hooking under the fabric, pulling them down painfully slow. You sat up more and he began to gently knead your upper thighs, thumbs closing the distance to your wet core. You jut your hips toward him, making him chuckle. “What is it, bébé?” His eyes met yours. “You want me… here?” His thumb gently pressed on your bare clit, making you gasp and bite your lip to keep the biggest moan from coming out. “Answer me, bébé.” He demands.

You nod quickly, gulping. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy. “Yes, please Ky. Right there.”

He smirked, locking eyes with you as his thumb rotated in a slow circle, dipping down to collect more of your juices, then back to circling. You moan out his name, pushing your hips towards his mouth. His breath was fanning you, his face so close to where you needed him the most.

Kylian got the hint, desperate to taste you himself. Without breaking eye contact, he latched himself to your clit, sucking gently, flicking it with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You exclaimed, eyes rolling back as your arms gave way. You grabbed the back of his head again, making him give you quick kitten licks. “God, Kylian, you—oh!” He pressed his tongue flat onto you with more pressure, shaking his head back and forth, lapping up and down.

He moans against you, sending sweet vibrations through your body. “We are never waiting this long again.” He replaces his mouth with two fingers, teasing your entrence. “I’ve missed hearing you beg.” You propped up again, jutting forward again as a way to get him to do something with his lingering fingers.

“Don’t tease, baby, come on.”

“You started it.” He grinned, using his pointer finger to barley poke into you, then taking it back out. “Do you want it or not, amour?”

You huffed and let out a whine. “Fine, Kylian. Please…” He quirked an eyebrow, retreating his finger. “No! Okay, okay. Seriously, I’m begging you. Please. Do whatever you want to me. Please.”

His lip quirks and places a kiss and a lick on your clit again, then inserts his two fingers inside. You moan his name loudly, fisting the sheets next to you. “Feel good, baby?” He kisses you there again, then crawls up to be face to face with you, kissing your heaving mouth.

“So good, Kylian.” He curls his fingers up, looking into your eyes as they roll back in pleasure. “So fucking good.”

“Yeah?” He latches on your neck and you give him more space to kiss you. You feel him start start sucking on your sweet spot, just behind your ear, his fingers continue to graze your g-spot. You lift your hand and palm him through his grey shorts, making him bite your neck gently. “Putain, ma chérie. Tu vas me tuer.” Goddamn, sweetheart. You’ll kill me, he moaned, using his thumb to rub your bundle of nerves. He muffled your noises with his lips on yours, you tasted yourself on his mouth.

You felt the warmth pool in your stomach, knowing you were close. “Ky, I’m gonna… ah, Jesus Christ.” He circled his thumb quicker, going back to bruising up your neck on the other side. He quickened his pace and you felt your legs start to shake. “Oh, I’m so… close…”

“Let me feel you cum, bébé. Cum on my fingers.” He nudged your nose with his to get you to look him in the eye. You felt the words ‘I love you’ get lodged in your throat as his fingers kept abusing your pussy, sending you over the edge with a borderline scream of a moan. The orgasm felt like it had been building for weeks. Behind the ringing in your ears you heard his low ‘that’s it’s and ‘just like that, baby’s.

He kept quirking his fingers until you had to push his hand away. Immediately, you sat up on your shaking legs, taking advantage of his awestruck demeanor and flipping him over as you straddled his lap, now kissing his neck, grinding your naked core on the tent that’s formed in his shorts. You pull away and rip his shirt off, meeting his mouth again as you ran your hands all over his chest.

Kylian couldn’t take it anymore, flipping you back over again — clearly wanting to be in charge — standing up as your head landed on his silk pillows. You watched as he shook his shorts off, leaving him in his briefs. You rolled onto your stomach, reaching your hands out to him. Grabbing the hem, you rolled them down, watching as more and more of his length was revealed until eventually, it sprung free. Big, and large, and thick, all for you. Sitting up, you grabbed the base, earning a needy noise from the man in front of you.

“You gonna beg for me, baby?” You stared up through your lashes, tracing the base gently with your finger, watching it twitch and bead with precum.

“Allez…” Come on, he whined, biting his lip. “Please, bébé.” He runs his fingers through your hair. “Please, I need your mouth so bad. So bad.” His body unwillingly pushing toward you.

You let your hand grab him fully, keeping your eyes on his and you licked the drop on his tip, tasting him, slowly putting more of his thick cock in your mouth. His stomach moved with his shallow breaths as you swirled your tongue, hollowing your cheeks as you took him in deeper.

“Mhm…” you hummed. Kylian groaned, fisting your hair in his hands and pacing your movements.

“Fuuuck.” You reached one hand back, unclasping your bra for him. Kylian wasted no time pulling both straps down and discarding of it, using the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair to squeeze your bare breasts. “Parfaite…” Perfect.

The back of your throat closed up when you had him about halfway down and caused you to gag (caused Kylian to moan), your hands taking care of the parts your mouth couldn’t reach. You hollow your cheeks, tracing the vein with your tongue.

“Fuck.” He repeated, pulling you off of him and pushing you back on the bed. He crawled on the mattress, kissing up from your navel. His hands tweaked your hardened nipples, twisting and pulling with just the right amount of pressure. He replaced his right hand with his mouth while you were a moaning mess under him.

When he pulled back with a loud pop, he smiled down at you and lifted your legs so they’d wrap around his waist. Grabbing his cock, he moved it on your wet core, and you watched with your mouth gaping, feeling his tip tease you painfully well. “Please, I need you inside.” You begged without being asked, and he did as you told him to, prodding you open with his thick mushroom head. “Oh, Kylian.” The stretch was euphoric, the familiar feeling brought you the comfort you’d been craving.

He intertwined your hand with his as he rested on his forearms, kissing your cheek, you felt his breath in your ear. “Always so tight for me, amour.” He slowly let you adjust, moving slowly about halfway in.

After a few seconds, your legs tighten around him, asking him to go deeper, to go faster. It was perfect that he knew exactly how you wanted to be pleased. He listed to your physical hints like a well trained puppy, so eager to please.

The noises you made when he picked up the pace were straight out of a porno. He heard every sound from the comfort of being buried in your neck, your mouth grazing the shell of his ear was sending goosebumps down his arms. He nipped at your collar bone, sporadically going back to feel your tits, a moaning mess himself as he found the right rhythm.

You felt him inside your stomach, poking and poking and poking… it was blinding. Somehow your accidental dry spell made you feel everything more. The vein running down the side, the the slight upward curve, it was all elevated for your maximum pleasure.

He continued holding your hand, fingers stretching and squeezing, eventually pinning it by your shoulder. He pecked your lips over and over again, some of the kisses lasting longer than others. On the last one, he dipped his tongue in, his pace faltered a smidge. “I’m so close. Fuck, I’m so close.” He muttered, breathy and dripping with affection as he looked into your eyes, squeezing your hand inside of his.

“Me too.” You stared back, focusing on his pelvic bone driving continuously on your sensitive nub. “Don’t stop — shit, Kylian.” You moaned his name, digging into his back with one hand while your other clasped his knuckles.

Kylian cussed against your neck, kissing the same spot, giving you just one bite before pulling back. His eyebrows furrowed while he looked at every detail of your face. “I’m gonna cum, bébé. Ah, dieu…”

“I’m right there,” you wrapped a hand around his neck, breathing into his mouth, indulging in the feeling of his fingers pushing you toward the edge.

His eyes screwed shut, strides hesitating, lips messily falling onto yours as he moaned out, cursing out your name. His fingers crushed your hand, but you honestly didn’t notice. Upon feeling his release, yours were right behind him.

“Oh, god!” You squealed, quivering, pulling his face deeper into your neck, your hand ripping away from his to hug him closer. He slid his now free hand under your arched back to do the same. Your bodies couldn’t be closer if you tried, but it felt like you couldn’t hold each other tight enough. The crushing sensation from Kylian only felt comforting, it felt right.

He continued to groan into your shoulder as he came down, his thrusts slowing until they just stopped.

Both of you were panting in sync, now just embracing each other as if it might not happen again, catching your breaths together.

He kissed your shoulder. “Damn.” He grumbled, looking up at you, brushing away a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His forefinger lingered on your jaw, he lifted it and tapped your lips, breaking out the biggest smile. “Damn…”

You both laughed together at how exaggerated his tone was, he traced your lip with his thumb, humming. You leaned up and kissed him sweetly, holding his face before he pulled away, hissing at the feeling of not being inside of you anymore. You continued to face the ceiling while Kylian laid on his side, staring at your profile — he swore he knew every detail by memory. Every birthmark, every curve, where your eyes wrinkle when you smile, how your eyebrows react to any situation. Sometimes, he feels as if he’s out of ways to show you the affection he hold for you, and just holds your hand instead. There isn’t enough words in any language to tell you how he feels.

“How was work?” You offered once your heaves settled. Kylian just shrugged, a tiny grin etched on his features. “Me too.”

You traced your thumb on the back of his hand, lifting it to your lips to kiss it. You continued to chat, pillow-talk eventually just turning into conversations about paying the gas bill, pondering what you should snack on later while you binge watch some random crime series on Netflix. He suggested The Devil Next Door and got pouty when you told him you’d watched it last week without him.

You’ll never get tired of these comfortable moments with Kylian. Sure, he’s busy, sometimes forgetful when he has a lot going on — but, part of loving him is accepting where he falls short. It’s hard work, but looking into the eyes of the man you love and seeing that love reciprocated is the most freeing, undeniably addictive feeling. How lucky are you to get to spend your life with this human, the gods definitely are on your side.

— A/N: Thanks for all the love on my first Mbappé fic! I really wasn’t expecting to get so much positive feedback. My English has improved so much in the past couple of years and I’m lowkey so proud of myself :,) —

— Requests are open for Mbappé! —

Taglist: @kymb-10 <3

[elficially-done-with-life]

Stay Safe

Pairing: Haldir x Reader

Summary: Reader is attacked by orcs that sneaked into Lorien, but Haldir comes to her rescue.

Words: 1252

Warnings: there is a fight, so mentions of that, but nothing graphic

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It happend when you and Haldir had been married for atleast hundred years. He was out, patrolling around Lorien, making sure you home was safe, when a few orcs managed to sneak in.

You were on your way back from an afternoon tea with your parents Galadriel and Celeborn when you ran into them.

Most afternoons the sun shone so beautifully through the tops of the outer trees that you were happy to take a few detours. But you were still inside the safety of Lorien. Otherwise it would have been far too dangerous to walk all on your own.

The shimmering of the leaves always inspired new ideas for songs and poems in your head, which is why your curiosity drew you that way again and again.

On that day you were walking under the treetops as usual, when suddenly something bumped into you from the side and knocked you to the ground.

Confused, you looked up and what you saw made you feel nauseous. With fear. For in front of you stood several orcs with raised weapons.

How did they find a way through Lorien's defences? Had they already hurt someone? Would they hurt you?

Your heart pounding, you scrambled to your feet and stumbled a few steps back.

It wasn't that you couldn't fight, on the contrary, you had learned to use swords at an early age and Haldir had only recently shown you how to use a bow and arrow. However, you had no weapons with you and there were several orcs and you were not sure if you could take them on, even if you tried or were less afraid.

While your mind was racing, the orcs managed to block the path you had just taken to your home.

All you could think about was how much you wanted to see your husband now. Haldir would cut down the orcs in a matter of seconds.

And then an idea came to you. The direct border of Lorien was not too far away, so if you were lucky you could make it, and maybe even lead the orcs away from the other elves. So you ran.

A few times your feet buckled and branches and leaves cut into your face and arms, but you just kept running, ignoring the pain. You had no choice. It would not have been wise to stop. Not when you could hear that the orcs were still following you.

Soon a group of elven warriors came into view, standing not far away.

In the middle you could make out someone you would recognise among thousands. Your Husband, Haldir.

"Haldir!" you shouted loudly to alert them as quickly as possible.

At first he looked surprised to see you, then worried because you normally did never visit him when he was out on patrol, and when he saw the orcs behind you he reached for his bow.

"Don't worry, Meleth nin, I'll help you!" he called as he ran towards you.

Only seconds after, a precisely aimed arrow whizzed past you and, judging by the sound, brought down an orc. More arrows, shot by the other elves, followed.

When Haldir finally reached you, he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you close.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, waiting for you to nod before shouting orders to the others. Soon they had killed all the orcs and you felt yourself exhale with relief.

Haldir's other arm also found its way around your body and he buried his face in your hair. You felt his warm breath ghost over your scalp, making your skin tingle.

"I'm glad nothing happened to you," he whispered and hugged you a little tighter, "I'm sorry. We- we probably missed something." He broke away from the embrace and only now did you see the tears that were running down his cheeks.

"If something would have happened to you then- then- "

"Hey," you interrupted him gently, taking his face in your hands, "none of this is your fault. These orcs probably planned this for a long time. No one could have foreseen that they would target Lorien of all places."

"But," He looked a little exasperated," in all my time as- well, it never- "

You just shook your head. "A short while ago, my mother told me she had heard that darkness was rising again in Mordor. It is not something we could have prepared for so quickly." You leaned forward to press your forehead to his. He usually tried to avoid too much romantic affection in public, but in a situation like this it was different. He had no intention of pushing you away. "Please do not blame yourself, Meleth nin."

He kept his forehead pressed against yours for a while until he finally stepped back and turned to his brothers Rumil and Orophin who were standing only a few steps away.

They both looked at you worried, as you had become very good friends with them since you and Haldir had started courting.

"We need to walk all the areas of the border again and see if we really- " Haldir began, but Orophin raised a hand to silence him.

"I know you only want what's best for Lorien, but," he nodded towards you, "your wife needs you now, brother. Rumil and I can handle this. You take care of her."

Haldir looked a little uncertain, but in the end he nodded. One of his arms was still wrapped around you, and he only broke away from you when you were in the safety of your home.

Only now did you realise how lucky you had been. Although you usually knew almost exactly where Haldir was on his patrols, it was still luck that you had found him so quickly. In your panic, you could have accidentally run in the wrong direction, until at some point you would have been unable to run any further.

You felt something soft press gently against your cheek and pull you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw Haldir looking at you with a soft expression in his eyes. "I will just clean the deepest scratch on your cheek," he said, "do not worry, you will feel much better in a moment."

When Haldir had carefully examined every scratch on your face and arms, he gently pulled you into the bedroom and made sure you lay down carefully.

"Haldir," you chuckled softly, "I have only a few scratches. I am not badly hurt."

He gave you a serious look and immediately the smile faded from your face.

"But you could," he said sternly. "Why were you out on your own in the first place? From now on you should only go with an escort. If it gets any more dangerous, then- " he interrupted himself and gave you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Meleth nin, I- I just don't want anything to happen to you because I love you so much."

"I know." You whispered, patting the space on the bed next to you, "Come on, lie down with me."

Haldir slowly eased himself under the warm blanket, nestling beside you. As he settled in, he immediately drew you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you tightly against his warm and comforting chest. One of his hands caressed your back with a soothing motion, while his other hand gently ran through your hair.

"Sleep well," he whispered," I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered back.

[mariacallous]

“Did Israel Avert a Hamas Massacre?” That was the question posed by the headline of a Vanity Fair exposé published in October 2014. The investigative report laid out a sophisticated plot by the Islamist terror group to kill and kidnap Israelis on the Gaza border. The plan: to use underground tunnels to infiltrate nearby civilian enclaves on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, when the communities would be at their most vulnerable. As one intelligence source put it, the operation had two goals: “First, get in and massacre people in a village. Pull off something they could show on television. Second, the ability to kidnap soldiers and civilians using the tunnels would give them a great bargaining chip.” The Israel Defense Forces subsequently confirmed this reporting to other media outlets, but not the specific date.

The tunnels were real. But at the time the massacre-that-wasn’t received little additional media coverage. It seemed too cinematic and convenient. Maybe it was a Hamas pipe dream that was never operational. Or maybe it was a worst-case scenario concocted by the Israeli security services and leaked to the media to justify their own ever-expanding countermeasures. Years passed without a mass border incursion, the tunnels were gradually detected and blocked, and I came to the conclusion that the skeptics were right about the plot being too lurid even for Hamas.

I was wrong. Last week, Hamas executed something quite like the attack on the Gaza border that it had planned all those years ago. Instead of tunneling underground on Rosh Hashanah, it invaded aboveground on another Jewish holiday, Simchat Torah. Some 1,500 terrorists stormed nearby civilian communities by land, air, and sea. They murdered babies in their cribs, parents in front of their children, and children in front of their parents. They burned entire families alive. They decapitated and mutilated their victims. They wore body cameras and documented their destruction as though it were a video game. They executed a grandmother in her home and uploaded the snuff film to her Facebook page. They deliberately targeted elementary schools. They kidnapped toddlers and a Holocaust survivor. They paraded a battered, naked woman through the streets of Gaza like a trophy. All told, they murdered more than 1,300 Israelis, almost all civilians, and abducted some 150 others, including babies and the elderly. The death toll continues to rise as rescue workers recover more remains and reassemble mangled corpses for identification.

Somehow, few saw this eruption of inhumanity coming. Several months ago, Sven Kühn von Burgsdorff, then the European Union ambassador to the Palestinians, performed what he called Gaza’s first paragliding flight to advocate for a future where “anything is possible in Gaza.” Hamas terrorists would later use paragliders to massacre more than 250 civilians at an Israeli music festival, which is presumably not what the envoy had in mind. And he wasn’t the only one naive about the Hamas regime’s intentions.

The consensus was that Hamas was a mostly rational actor that could be reasoned with. To hawks, although the group was an anti-Semitic Iran proxy, it could be deterred through political and economic incentives, because it felt responsible for the welfare of the Gazan people. To doves, Hamas was a quasi-legitimate national resistance movement whose occasional bouts of violence were simply intended to draw attention to that struggle.

Successive Netanyahu governments and security officials, far less sympathetic to the Gazan plight, nonetheless spent recent years lifting economic restrictions on the enclave, granting thousands of work permits for Gazans, and transferring hundreds of millions of Qatari dollars to Hamas in exchange—they thought—for relative quiet.

But it turned out that Hamas wasn’t being pacified; it was preparing. The group was less committed to national liberation than to Jewish elimination. Its violence was rooted not in strategy, but in sadism. And in retrospect, well before the Rosh Hashanah plot, the signs of Hamas’s atrocious ambitions were all there—many observers just did not want to believe them. What Hamas did was not out of character, but rather the explicit fulfillment of its long-stated objectives. The shocking thing was not just the atrocity itself, but that so many people were shocked by it, because they’d failed to reckon with the reality that had been staring them in the face.

First, there is Hamas’s notorious charter, a Frankensteinian amalgam of the worst anti-Semitic conspiracy theories of the modern era—the very same that have motivated numerous white-supremacist attacks in the United States. “Our struggle against the Jews is very great and very serious,” the document opens. “It needs all sincere efforts … until the enemy is vanquished.” The charter goes on to claim that the Jews control “the world media, news agencies, the press, publishing houses, broadcasting stations, and others.” According to Hamas, the Jews were “behind the French Revolution, the Communist revolution and most of the revolutions we heard and hear about,” as well as World War I and World War II. The charter accuses Israel of seeking to take over the entire world, and cites as proof the most influential modern anti-Semitic text, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a Russian fabrication that purports to expose a global Jewish cabal.

“Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it,” Hamas declares in its credo. “The Day of Judgement will not come about until Muslims fight the Jews.” In case anyone missed the point, the document adds that “so-called peaceful solutions and international conferences are in contradiction to the principles of the Islamic Resistance Movement.” In 2017, Hamas published a new charter, but pointedly refused to disavow the original one, in a transparent ruse that some respectable observers nonetheless took at face value.

In any case, Hamas communicated its genocidal intentions not just in words, but in deeds. Before it took control of Gaza, the group deliberately targeted Jewish civilians for mass murder, executing scores of suicide bombings against shopping malls, night clubs, restaurants, buses, Passover seders, and many other nonmilitary targets. Today, this killing spree is widely blamed for destroying the credibility of the Israeli peace movement and helping derail the Oslo Accords, precisely as Hamas intended. And it did not stop there. Since the group took power in Gaza, it has launched thousands of rockets indiscriminately at nearby civilian towns—attacks that continue at this very moment and that have boosted the Israeli right in election after election.

Hamas’s anti-Jewish aspirations were evident not only from its treatment of Israelis, but from its treatment of fellow Palestinians. Despite being the putative sovereign in Gaza and responsible for the well-being of its people, Hamas repeatedly cannibalized Gaza’s infrastructure and appropriated international aid to fuel its messianic war machine. The group boasted publicly about digging up Gaza’s pipes and turning them into rockets. It stored weapons in United Nations schools and dug attack tunnels underneath them. (Contrary to what you might have read on social media, Gaza does have underground shelters—they are just used for housing Hamas fighters, smuggling operations, and weapons caches, not protecting civilians.)

When dissenting Gazans attempted to protest this state of affairs and demanded a better future, they were brutally repressed. Hamas has not held elections since 2006. In 2020, when the Gazan peace activist Rami Aman held a two-hour Zoom call with Israeli leftists, Hamas threw him in prison for six months, tortured him, and forced him to divorce his wife. Why? Because his vision of a shared society for Arabs and Jews, however remote, was a threat to the group’s entire worldview. Jews were not to share the land; they were to be cleansed from it.

Simply put, what Hamas did two weekends ago was not a departure from its past, but the natural culmination of its commitments. The question is not why Hamas did what it did, but why so many people were surprised. Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, quick to discern anti-Semitism in any effort to merely label Israeli products from West Bank settlements, somehow overlooked the severity of the genocidal threat growing next door. Journalists like me who cover anti-Semitism somehow failed to take Hamas’s overt anti-Jewish ethos as seriously as we should have. Many international leftists, ostensibly committed to equality and dignity for Palestinians and Israelis alike, somehow missed that Hamas did not share that vision, and in fact was actively working to obliterate it.

Today, in the ashes of the worst anti-Jewish violence since the Holocaust, some analysts have admitted their error of sanitizing Hamas. “It’s a huge mistake that I did, believing that a terror organization can change its DNA,” the former Netanyahu national-security adviser Yaakov Amidror told The New York Times. Others on the left have clung to their tortured conception of Hamas as a rational resistance group, despite it having been falsified by events. Perhaps some fear that acknowledging the true nature of Hamas would undermine the struggle for Palestinian self-determination. But in actuality, it is the refusal to disentangle Hamas’s anti-Jewish sadism from the legitimate cause of Palestinian nationalism that threatens the project and saps its support.

In 1922, The New York Times published its first article about Adolf Hitler. The reporter, Cyril Brown, was aware of his subject’s anti-Jewish animus, but he wasn’t buying it. “Several reliable, well-informed sources confirmed the idea that Hitler's anti-Semitism was not so genuine or violent as it sounded,” Brown wrote, “and that he was merely using anti-Semitic propaganda as a bait to catch masses of followers.” Two years later, the Times published another news item on the future architect of the Holocaust: “Hitler Tamed by Prison.” The Austrian activist, the piece said, “looked a much sadder and wiser man,” and “his behavior during his imprisonment convinced the authorities that [he] was no longer to be feared.”

Many got Hamas wrong. But they shouldn’t have. Again and again, people say they intend to murder Jews. And yet, century after century, the world produces new, tortuous justifications for why anti-Jewish bigots don’t really mean what they say—even though they do.

[arthropodrespecter]

2013 vs 2024

tbh, this is incredibly difficult for me. as a trans woman, there are certain expectations for posts like these. some gruff but sad looking man who was transformed into a happy beautiful girl via hormones. so you might think that nothing has changed. or perhaps i have gone backwards, gotten hairier, bigger, becoming even more of a man than i started off as.

this might be hard to read, so i'll put the rest under a read more. CW for homelessness, starvation, transmisogyny, and probably a few things i'm missing.

my transition has been messy. in some ways, you might say that i spent the first 25 years of my life transitioning. as a child i was efemminate, loved to play dress up and dolls, but my father was so against this that he filed a lawsuit against my mother, getting a court order forbidding her from "forcing me to crossdress." this set the tone for the rest of my childhood, which is a story i will not get into here because it is much worse than the story i'm trying to tell.

growing up in a christian fundamentalist home meant that it wasn't until much later, after my mother gained custody and i had gone on to experience even further ruination of my life, that i even learned that trans people exist. that this was a thing you could do, could be. a brief flash, something hiding behind my eyes, and i had locked it away. of course i wasn't trans. i was an athlete, a martial artist, a musician, why would i need to think about gender?

when i was 16, i joined tumblr. i saw a blooming transgender community, got to see the inner thoughts and conversations that trans people were having, couldn't avoid certain things any longer. i started to identify as nonbinary, eventually even coming out to my mother, who certainly TRIED to be supportive. it was exciting, made my heart race a little, made me scared. i had no idea what i was doing, or how my world was about to turn upside down and inside out.

the summer i turned 18, i was severely injured in a martial arts tournament. my right knee had caved in, the bone at the site of the joint crushed by a man i had thought was my friend. i didn't realize what had happened, and so didn't go to a doctor until two weeks later, at which point the damage was considered irreversible. everything i was disappeared. i lost all will to live. i stopped drawing, stopped playing music. i started drinking heavily. my family knew i was struggling but any efforts to fix the situation just made it worse. my mother and older brother had been putting more and more pressure on me to get a job and get out of the house, even though i could barely walk. my older brother told me that my mother was going to kick me out if i couldn't start contibuting. i still couldn't. i became homeless for the first time at the age of 19.

when you're homeless, it's like every single day is drawn out into countless hours, and you either have nothing to do, or far too much to do, and nothing in between. i had an online partner at the time, someone who turned out to be a chaser targeting suspiciously egg shaped men and nonbinary people, who spent the entire time getting more and more frustrated that i didn't have the time to be a fucktoy. i ended up insitutionalized for a month, after which i was kicked to the curb and left with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on my back. any journey of self discovery i may have been having was on hold until i wasn't fighting for survival.

my rescue came from a nonbinary lesbian who reached out to me. i was offered a room, a place to stay for no cost. they helped me break up with my partner. i found myself in a new sort of situationship, but at a confusing cost. why was this lesbian interested in me? was that even okay? eventually we had a conversation. they revealed to me that they had thought i was a trans woman. the fact that i had been seen as a woman hit me like a truck in a blindzone i didn't know i had.

after a difficult few days of arguing with myself, i couldn't hide from it. i was a woman. maybe i had always been a woman. a thought more terrifying than it had any right to be.

i grew my hair out. i started shaving. after a few months, i was even able to book my first HRT appointment (thank you state of washington trans healthcare laws). i came out to my mother a second time, and her reaction was much different this time. maybe due to the distance that had grown between us, the past hostility that left scars still bleeding, but i suspect it was because telling her that her firstborn son was actually a woman was much scarier to her than telling her that i didn't really care about gender.

this photo is from the day that i had my first HRT appointment. my soft chin, once a weakness, could be bared proudly, the ambiguity in my face becoming something that i cherished.

a year later, i had the longest hair of my life. if i shaved and wore makeup, and dressed right, i could get gendered correctly so long as i didn't speak. in that regard, i was truly getting the full experience of womanhood. my relationship with my partner was going strong. i thought that i had found my forever.

things got messy. you will probably hear me say this again. you won't find many better ways to describe my life, other than messy. my partner had always been polyamorous, but i was not, and had not ever pretended that this was not the case. so when one of my partners friends confessed her love to them, they went into panic mode. suddenly they were pushing everyone away, reverting to old bad habits and anxieties, and our relationship began to fall apart.

the friend, we'll call her A, pretended to move on, started dating someone else. my own friendship with A was strained by the situation, and her new partner, a butch lesbian named rowan, seemed to be suffering for it. i realized that the only way our relationships could survive was if we tried to work out an agreement to polyamory. in the end that wasn't enough, but i was desperate. i was starting to see the cracks, realizing that if this fell apart, i would be homeless again. my leg injury had already been so badly worsened from my first experience with homelessness, i knew that going through it again would be the end of me.

since my partner and A were now seeing each other, i began to get ignored. the only time either of them spent talking to me was talking about each other, either joyous or trying to fix some new problem. at this point, i started getting to know rowan. we had a lot in common, i had never talked to a butch before, let alone known one, and seeing the way that they navigated gender made me jealous. i didn't know why.

more and more, rowan and i were separated from the broader relationship, and as we talked more, something developed. i had already felt it the first time we spoke, on some level, but it had grown and grown, from respect, to admiration, to desire and love. we were in a polyamorous relationship after all, so it made sense to me. but shortly after, when i told my partner what i was feeling, they freaked out. this wasn't the agreement, they had only agreed to them being able to date other people, didn't think that it would need to be specified because i wasn't polyamorous.

the entire relationship falls apart and we go back to being two separate couples, and the end of that came swiftly after. they cheated on me with A, and when i found out, that was it. my now ex partner told me that i could stay at the apartment until the lease ran out, and they would move back in with their parents. they took all the furniture, i was left with an ancient computer, a blanket, some clothes, and two pillows. my depression came back with a vengeance, and i stopped eating. by the time the lease ran out, i had lost a dangerous amount of weight. i became homeless for the second time at age 22.

this time, after only six months, i found a thin sliver of hope. i was given a place to stay. a single-wide trailer that i would share with three other trans women and a hairy nonbinary lesbian. you've probably heard the stories of similar situations. it's impossible to have healthy boundaries in a space the size of a can of sardines. or healthy anything really. i got involved in an incredibly toxic relationship with one of the other trans women, who i found out was dating nearly a dozen other people.

the only thing i could do was try to feel wanted. desired. i began experimenting with my image.

i re-established contact with rowan, but there was so much there that i couldn't bring myself to face yet. as i began to experiment with more masculine presentation, those around me took a greater interest in me. i was an object of desire. it was the most worth i had felt i ever had.

i wasn't eating again. so my weight kept dropping. in the three-odd years since my first encounter with homelessness, i had lost 30% of my entire bodyweight. this only made my physical issues get worse and worse.

i wasn't done with experimentation though. what could i do with this newfound territory?

the time came. i couldn't stay anymore. the relationship had fallen apart, and my connection to the household had been sent away in exile. the irony of this is not lost on me. i was lucky enough to be able to couch surf for a few months this time.

i lost weight again.

and again.

my knee got worse and worse. my iliotibial band tore. my birthday came and went, nobody celebrated except for rowan, now my only friend.

a week after my birthday, a lesbian couple contacted me. told me that they had a spare bedroom, and that if i could cover the costs of my own food, could stay for as long as i liked.

i started HRT again. rowan and i had managed to work through all the shit and scum of our past and started a relationship anew. it felt like this could be real.

i started to look a lot like my mom. kind of uncomfortably like my mom. rowan was butch, so i had thought i should be a femme. i didn't understand what that meant, but whatever it was i attempted, it wavered dramatically.

i began to switch, every month or so, between masculine and feminine presentation. my chest had grown enough that it was visible now, and i experienced an equal amount of joy and fear when i was gendered correctly in public, having learned to fear people finding out that i was a trans woman.

the weight didn't come back. it was like my body had burned itself so far down that it could not regrow. i had no energy, and my physical condition continued to deteriorate. but i was allowed to be myself. and i was in love with a butch. maybe that would be enough.

i began to develop a fashion sense of my own. the butch label was starting to appeal to me. and my roommates seemed to agree, since they both shifted towards butchness and masculinity alongside me. but it wasn't to last. one of my roommates, a TME lesbian i'm gonna call M, suddenly went off on a transmisogynistic rant to me. M's partner was a trans woman, and hearing this caused me to suddenly re-evaluate everything. did this happen because M viewed me as more masculine now, a more acceptable target? would this happen to G, M's partner?

i hardcore shifted gears back to feminine presentation. it felt safer. i stopped eating again. things weren't okay, but they were bearable this way. but then, one day, we got locked out of our apartment. a stupid, played out thing that happens to everyone at least once. while my roommate G went to see if the apartment manager was in with a spare key, i attempted to climb our balcony and get in through the unlocked back door. when i was up on the railing of our balcony, it gave way, and i fell to the asphalt below, breaking my back. following a trend that i set half a decade ago, i didn't realize it had happened. my back hurt, but i thought it would go away. it did, replaced by a vast numbness through the middle of my back. i began to collapse any time i tried to exhert myself physically at all. i would only find out why years later. the fact that i couldn't contribute to chores anymore, and nobody knew why, made the situation with M deteriorate much faster.

at my lowest point in years. my relationship with rowan was the only thing that kept me from giving up, but after the third time M decided to spew vileness at me i just spent months locked away in my room, terrified that any time i saw M was going to be another lecture about how i was disrespectful, loud, obtrusive, intimidating, too quiet, too lazy, whatever incoherent train of thought i would have to face next.

it was too much to handle in combination with the events of 2020, the lockdowns, the illness, the forest fires, things ended up coming to a head. at age 25, i became homeless for the third time, during the pandemic and a wildfire that filled the air with plastic fumes so thick you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

i got in contact with my mother and had her take my cat, because i knew i couldn't take care of her like this. that was the last time i saw my cat in person before she died. rowan was frantically trying anything and everything possible to help me. i thought that this might be the end.

three and a half years ago today i got the best news of my life. there was a way out. it would be a long and tricky road, involving moving my whole life to a new country. but we could do it. not only could we do it, but we actually did it. in a months time, i was in rowan's arms. for the first time in our years of knowing each other, there was nothing keeping us apart any longer.

i was finally able to rest. able to eat. i started to regain weight for the first time in nearly a decade. i felt my energy come back, slowly at first, and then more and more until i was capable of functioning, even if at a low level. it's around then that i find out the truth of what happened to my back. it still hasn't properly healed.

in my gratefullness for life and love, i briefly forgot my identity crisis. i was happy to just exist without fear and pain. it wasn't until about a year ago, when a miracle occurred, that this changed.

i woke up one morning, feeling more energetic than usual. i think to myself, maybe i can do some light exercise, for old times sake.

my knee doesn't hurt.

my knee doesn't hurt.

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

a wound that i thought would dictate my life forever, given actual time to rest and food to fuel the process, had healed. everything that i had ever given up on came rushing back into my head, ideas about who i could be, what i could become, what other injuries i might be able to recover from if i treat them right and rebuild myself. ten months ago i began to work out consistently. my back is slowly healing. i am stronger than i ever was before.

i have had to rebuild myself so many times. did i ever discover the secret of butchness in the process? no, that's something that i think will take the rest of my life. for now, my butchness is an enduring pillar, the only part of myself that never fully burnt away. standing up for myself, being my own person, loving another butch, refusing to lose the kindness i so desperately clung to my whole life, refusing to limit myself and my dreams, this is who i am. i am friends with other butches. i am not alone anymore. for now, this is butch. this is me.

[shae-mermaid]

Part 1 of my very FIRST fic EVER!

Part 2!! | Part 3!!! | Part 4!!!! | Part 5!!!!! | Part 6 (FINALE)!!!!!!

A/N: This doesn't even have a proper name yet, and I'm writing it on a whim, but I'm curious (and honestly hopeful) to see some possible interest in this from more than just me, before I try to post it to AO3...

Update: I've posted it on AO3, under the title "You Are A Queen". My username is shae_mermaid, if you're interested in subscribing for any other Hazbin fics I may make in the future~

Critique is encouraged, but just try to be polite about it please! <3

TW/CW: mentions of s*****e, but not in this preview, so all is well...for now. (Tell me if there's anything I should've warned about that I missed! Sorry in advance!!)

HAZBIN HOTEL ONE-SHOT

(Lucifer x plus sized fem! reader)

You had been in Hell for not even a day, waking up in a daze, and for a second, thinking you were still living. Then, realization and dread set in.. You look down to see your arms and hands, a seemingly unnatural shade of blue, in contrast to the overwhelmingly red palette of this place. And… were those scales?! Great, you thought, I’m a fuckin’ lizard or something. But then you took a closer look at your hands. You spotted fins, in between your fingers. That actually got you a tiny bit excited, honestly. Fish were something you were fascinated by in life. But, your train of thought came to a crashing halt when you heard a deafening explosion close behind you. Well, more like above you. 

You were terrified, to say the least. Woken up in the middle of the street to what you only assumed was some kind of turf war, hearing lots of blood curdling screams running past you as a building started to collapse, with fire quickly eating up the building.

The person (or,rather, half-demon) who had swooped in to your rescue, was none other than Charlie Morningstar, but you didn’t know, nor care in the moment. All you knew was that the next second you’re being scooped up, white-knight style into the woman’s limo.  But, after that initial rush, and looking back on it, you were glad she saved you, and to have met her as soon as you did. Otherwise, you weren’t sure how long you would’ve survived out there. But with a quick knock to the dividing window, signaling the driver to go, you all zoomed out of there just in time, before a grenade that was thrown a second before blew up near you all, too close for comfort.

Charlie was too excited to dive right in and go on and on about her newly renovated passion project to even remember to properly introduce herself and her girlfriend, Vaggie, who had to remind her to do so by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. After that, Charlie finally slowed down just enough to shake your hand vigorously and introduce them both.

You finally introduced yourself to them, and the conversation flowed surprisingly well throughout the ride back to the hotel. You told them a little about your previous life on Earth, leaving out some embarrassing parts and dark parts, like how you came to be down here.

You mostly lived a quiet life, being the child of two avid, eternally committed churchgoers, who also happened to both be musicians. Your mother played piano, while you and your father would sing and help lead the congregations in singing hymns. At least, that’s how you lived your life in youth.

You conveniently left out a few details, like how later on in life, you started resenting your parents’ wishes a bit. They always knew that you hated performing in front of people, having one of the world’s worst cases of stage fright. Not only that, but also the fact that you were always (and, judging by your ever-present tummy, forever will be) a chubby person, which you felt only made you a target for your peers to throw all manner of cruel words at. Your mother stubbornly kept insisting though, saying “A gift like yours shouldn’t be wasted!” and “Use your talents to praise Him!”. A lot of good that did.

Thankfully, Charlie and Vaggie never seemed curious enough to ask how you died. That was a subject even you hesitated to think about. No, Charlie got so excited when she heard that you sang, asking if she could hear you sing something for everyone sometime. You had to politely and shyly decline, saying that that part of your life was over (literally), much to her dismay. You immediately felt the usual guilt-trip your mother often gave you, creep up on you, making you backtrack a little, giving her a hesitant “maybe,” if others would join you. She squealed in response, hurting yours and Vaggie’s ears a bit, saying that she’d love to, if you’re ever feeling the inspiration and confidence to. 

Then she went on a tangent on maybe making another lesson plan about gaining confidence through positive thinking, to which you barely listened. Your “people-ing battery”, as you so accurately called it, was just about out at this point. So you just nodded and hummed a quiet response, while sneakily watching Pentagram City go by from the window. You also started wondering how Vaggie could still hear, from how often her partner surely made such noises. 

You all finally made it to the hotel, with Charlie starting the tour off by introducing the few people that were hanging out in the lobby and bar area. First, her business partner, Alastor. He gave off the vibe of a gentleman. An old-fashioned and frankly creepy one, but a gentleman nonetheless.

“Why hello there, Y/n! Pleasure to be meeting our newest guest, quite the pleasure!” he said in his radio filtered voice, as you both shook hands. You noticed that he wiped his hand off on his coat immediately afterwards. Rude, you thought, so you subtly responded by doing the same, which he narrowed his eyes at, giving you the impression that he’s always gonna be watching. With that creepy and obviously fake smile on at all times. You made a mental note to be veeeery cautious around him…

Charlie started to sense that there was the tiniest bit of tension in the air between you two, so she gently put a hand on your shoulder and grandly gestured at the incredibly lanky spider demon sitting at the bar, and the frankly unamused and tired cat/bird demon behind the counter. “This Angel, our very first guest, and of course Husk, our Bartender!” 

Husk just responded with a two fingered salute and a quick “Yo,” while Angel temporarily put his work attitude back on and playfully greeted you with a “Hey, gorgeous! Nice to meet ya!”, which honestly made your cheeks tingle a little from a small blush of embarrassment.. 

Charlie starts to announce “Everyone, this is Y/n. Our newest guest!”, to which you give out a shy “Hi,” using what you call your sweetheart voice, and awkwardly wave at everyone. 

Suddenly, you see a blur zooming up to you and spiral up your body, until you finally see the face of a tiny cyclops lady with an adorable 1950’s style poodle skirt and apron on. Honestly, you froze like a deer in the headlights as soon as you felt the frenzied crawling, but that didn’t make you half as tense as her sharp-toothed, crazy big smile did. Hers is almost as bad as Alastor’s, you thought.

Charlie let out an awkward laugh while Alastor grabbed the little thing, basically using his claws like tweezers picking up a bug. “Oh! I almost forgot! This is our maid, Nifty!” 

Almost as if Alastor had switched her crazy side off as soon as he picked Nifty up, she put on a deceivingly innocent, almost cute smile while she was dangled in the air in front of you, giving a very childlike “Hi!!,” with a small wave back before proceeding to wiggle like crazy, prompting Alastor to just drop her on the floor. You almost said something in protest as she fell face-first onto the floor, but you stopped when you immediately heard her shout “YAY! PAIN!”, then scurry off up the stairs, as if nothing had happened. You could tell she might provide some much needed entertainment when you’re bored.

“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless,” Charlie said to you in a hushed tone, only then remembering what her little friend did to Adam in the last extermination. “Ok, maybe 75%. But that’s still good!”

You let out a small chuckle at that comment, as Charlie smiles at you and breathes out a long exhale, reassured that she was doing well and that you felt comfortable. She, Vaggie, Alastor, and you, all gave a final wave goodbye to Angel and Husk as Charlie told them “We’re going to show Y/n around a little more, then take her to her room. See you guys in a bit!”, as she grabbed you and Vaggie’s wrists to pull you both up the stairs, so incredibly eager to show her newest guest around her new home. Alastor calmly followed suit as you all disappeared up the stairs.

The rest of the tour was just a lot of repetition, to be honest. Most of the floors looked practically identical.That is, until Charlie and Vaggie guided you all to the top floor. You saw a red door slightly ajar right across from the stair landing. “This is Vaggie and I’s room!” she said, then quieting down as soon as she heard a timid little “mew!” from inside her room. “Oh! I guess she wanted to make an appearance too,” she said, slowly opening the door a little more to reveal an adorable little cyclops tuxedo cat, rubbing up against everyone’s legs. “This is Kee-kee,” she said with an awkward giggle. “My cat. I’ve had her since I was young. My dad created her.”

Your eyes lit up like fireworks were going off! You adored animals, especially cats. Your shy demeanor immediately turned to poorly-contained excitement, gasping at the site of her confidently walking towards you all. “Hi there!”, you say as you kneel down and reach out your hand, offering her an up-turned palm to sniff. She just ends up looking at you weird for a second, then cautiously head-butts your hand, with you starting to give her little scritches, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “I didn’t know there were actual animal-animals down here!” 

Charlie giggled a little, “You’ll be surprised by a lot of things in your time here.”

“You should see Angel’s pig sometime,” Vaggie chimed in.

Your eyes lit up once more, your head snapping in Vaggie’s direction. “THERE’S A PIG?!”

Now, that got Charlie and Vaggie laughing more naturally. “We can have a little pet show-and-tell sometime, if everyone’s up for it,” Charlie went on to say.

You eagerly nod your head in agreement, standing back up before twisting your gaze to either end of the hallway. On one end, a dark red (almost black) door, and the other, a white door with red and gold filigree along the edges.

“Oh, those are Alastor’s and my dad’s rooms,” Charlie said. “I’m surprised my dad hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Probably off doing his job, babe,” said Vaggie.

“‘Bout time,” you heard Alastor say under his breath. You give him a sideways glance, quickly looking away as soon as he looks at you. You have slightly better hearing than the average person. A blessing and a curse, really. 

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Probably lots of work to catch up on from the past few years.” She sounded a little down and frustrated about it, until Vaggie gingerly took Charlie’s hand in hers. “I know you just got here, so just to let you know, my dad’s the King,”

It takes your brain a second to catch up and process. “Wait. Does that mean your dad’s literally SATAN?!”

Charlie laughs again. “No. Satan’s one of my uncles, and ruler of an entirely different ring,” she paused a second. “My dad’s name is Lucifer.”

Your eyes went wide. You couldn’t help but picture some huge, burly old man with a smile even creepier than Alastor’s, if that’s at all possible.

“I know what you’re thinking, and he’s NOT like that! At all!” Charlie said, making a sweeping X motion with her arms. “He actually is quite nice. I think you’ll like him,” she went on before escorting you down the stairs towards your new room.

Oh, how little you or anyone else knew just how much you’d “Like him”.

A/N: I hope you liked it! Please leave any/all opinions in the comments. This is pretty personal to me, so I'm SO excited to see what you all think!!!

~Shae <3

[ghost-bxrd]

So I posted this on my blog, but I really wanted to share it directly with you. This AU has me in a chokehold, and I literally woke up in the middle of night dreaming about this, so imagine:

Based on @lynzine‘s prompt: Dick hears Red Hood make chirps or hoots, and then freaks out thinking Red Hood is a member of the Court and is targeting Tim.

So, what if, instead of Dick offering himself up as a sacrifice, Dick gets angry.

Dick hunts down the Red Hood, stalking him all over Gotham. When Dick sees him, he immediately attacks with the intent to kill. (The court wants his owlet. He already lost one, he can’t loose this one, he will not fail—). Jason doesn’t want to fight Dick, but Dick is vicious.

And the fight just confirms Dick’s assumption that Jason is a part of the Court. Because not only does Jason probably have some training from Dick himself — back when he was Robin — but now he has even more assassin training via the League. Dick sees this, and he’s so so convinced this is a member of the court—

But then part of the helmet cracks and falls off. Part of Jason’s face (his owlet’s face) is visible.

Dick freezes.

Jason shoots.

(It’s not fatal, but it’s a close thing.)

Bruce rescues Dick, but Jason is long gone by then. Between the shock and the injuries, everything is kinda hazy for him. But Dick knows what he saw, and he realizes… he just tried to kill his owlet. His owlet is alive again, somehow, and Dick almost killed him again.

Dick becomes depressed and devastated, which results in him basically ignoring everyone — including Tim. He stops making nests and refuses to cuddle. He becomes almost catatonic.

But that’s okay. Tim’s worried for Dick. Tim’s used to being ignored.

Danggggg, okay, ooookay, I see you went for even more angst! Which I can totally respect, but still, how dare you 😭 alright, okidoki, let’s get to angsting my friend!

So we know that Jason’s beef probably wouldn’t be with Dick if he were to resurrect like in canon, mostly because, well, Joker made it a hot day after killing Jason before Dick tracked him down and distributed him all over Gotham like confetti.

As such it would stand to reason that Dick attacking Hood wasn’t part of the plan. The altercation happened by chance and, ok, fair, Jason was kind of targeting Tim so mayyybe he should have counted on that. What he DIDN’T count on was his mask coming off and Dick just—- freezing. And there’s this split second of absolute horror in both their eyes— for Dick because he thinks the Court took his owlet’s dead body without him noticing, and for Jason because he already pulled the trigger but dick isn’t moving out of the way—

Jason flees, only staying long enough to press a trembling hand to Dick’s pulse point and ascertain that Dick is alive— that he didn’t kill his brother, before fleeing and leaving Bruce and Tim to pick up the pieces.

Dick is adrift for a long while and neither Bruce or Tim can figure out what’s wrong because Dick refuses to tell them what happened, that Jason is alive. Because now that Dick knows— he’s terrified. And guilt ridden.

Somehow, he missed the Court taking Jason’s body. And now he thinks his owlet had been subjected to the same horrors that Dick was, turned into the same monster Dick spent years believing himself to be. And Dick— Dick is a talon. Dick will always BE a talon. He should have realized that Hood is Jason. Should have realized that’s his owlet under that helmet, instead he attacked him, aimed to kill him, and Dick knows how deep betrayal can run when you’re running mostly on instinct and half remembered emotions. Dick had Jason, Jason saved him when he all Dick knew was how to kill, and when Jason came back to him after Dick thought him lost forever—- Dick attempted to kill him.

Jason is… confused. And reluctantly worried. Batman and Robin are rarely seen on the streets after the altercation and Nightwing is gone altogether. He knows he didn’t kill Dick. He made triple sure of it. Even went as far as to sneak onto manor grounds and hang out in a tree until he’d caught a glimpse of the talon.

I think Jason wouldn’t be able to curb is growing concern for long, maybe a couple weeks, before he goes back and breaks into the manor while Batman and Robin are out on the streets hunting rumors of the Red Hood’s whereabouts

(Jason is horrified when he finds Dick sprawled listlessly in a heap of blankets that certainly looks like someone tried to arrange it into a nest, but failed miserably.)

[immajustvibehere]

Drunk Kisses - High Honor

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: A drunk reader gives Arthur Morgan a kiss. (High Honor Version! For Low Honor click here)

drabble: 950 words

Sean had been rescued and his high spirits were so contagious that most people were merry and drunk before the sun had set. People were flirting, couples were dancing, and friends were sharing drinks. You observed all of this amusedly with blurry sight.

"Tilly, will ya excuse me for a second?", you asked, a big grin growing on your face when you saw Arthur getting up from a conversation he had been having with Hosea. He laughed, patted the old man on the back and strut towards the campfire to join Miss Grimshaw and a couple of others who were just striking up a song.

"Arthur!", you slurred.

"Jeez, Miss y/l/n. How many have you had?", Arthur chuckled when he saw you stumble towards him. He too, had emptied two or three bottles, just enough to make it easier to laugh about your stagger and enjoying how warm his cheeks felt when he saw your slightly dishevelled clothes.

"Would you pleaseee dance with me?", you asked. Truth be told, you wanted to ask him this a couple of times before, only ever really having the courage when you were drunk, but the occasion never felt so right as it did tonight.

"Ya even capable of setting one foot in front of another?", Arthur asked with a smile, already extending his arm for you to hold on to and lead you to the space where Molly and Dutch were dancing.

"Not really to be quite honest with you", you mumbled, "But I know you got me."

You waited for Arthur's hand to settle on your hip before you put yours on his shoulder. When Arthur took the first step, you almost toppled over, but his grip was firm and prevented you from ever stumbling too far away. Arthur corrected every slip you made, though after a while both of you couldn't help laughing about the movements you were making. It was anything but gracious.

"You two call this dancing?", Dutch yelled over. You ignored him.

"Y/n if we go on, I don't know how long I can keep you from falling over. Things start spinnin' in my head", Arthur laughed, again pressing you close to him, as your knees threatened to buckle from all the laughing.

"It only started to spin for you now!?", you cried incredulous, "I haven't seen straight for the last half an hour!"

"I can tell!", Arthur answered, slowly loosening his grip on you when he felt that you stood firmly. You were catching your breath, still holding Arthur's sleeve.

"Thank you", you smiled.

"Any time", Arthur answered sweetly, wondering where this weird feeling in his stomach suddenly came from. And then you suddenly came closer, pressing a small kiss into the corner of his mouth. The beard tickled, so when you backed up again, you grinned and repeated: "Thank you."

Arthur wasn't processing quick enough. He just stood there, stiff and confused with the feeling in his stomach going wild. He watched as you staggered off, heading towards the campfire and the singing group. He joined a couple of moments later, sitting down on a log opposite to you. You had decided to sober up a bit. Not necessarily because you wanted to, but you feared that another drink would knock you out entirely. Arthur was considering getting more drunk, because he started to fear things, he never thought he would care so much about.

Was that a friendly kiss? Had you aimed for the cheek and simply hit a bit off target because of your drunkenness? Or did you like him? Sometimes, he thought you were overly friendly and caring towards him, but he always explained that away with you seeing him as a good friend. But suddenly he wasn't so sure anymore. And then he feared he was overthinking. You were drunk, you probably didn't even know what you were doing, even less remember it in the morning.

The night went on, and you were one of those people heading off to bed earlier than the rest. You didn't notice Arthur following you until you tripped over a root, but he was there to grab your arm and keep you steady.

"Careful", Arthur mumbled.

"Sure. Thanks", you smiled. Did you see his thoughts running wild? Maybe. But you were tired and still a bit inebriated.

"Y/n. I think I gotta tell ya something", Arthur started, "'m real sorry if I'm oversteppin' a line or s'thing...but I..."

He took off his hat and fumbled around with it. The silence and awkwardness of the situation was so clear and so long-lasting, even your slow brain was catching up to what was happening.

I like you. God damn, he couldn't say it. Maybe it had been one drink too few.

"Nevermind, I'll let ya go to bed", Arthur was about to turn around when you grabbed his hand.

"No. I'm curious now", you smiled.

"It's nothing, really", Arthur nodded.

"It is. Because I can tell you've been thinking about it a lot."

Arthur sighed: "Guess I just wanted to thank you again, for the dance."

"Is it that, or do you want me to thank you again for the dance?", you smiled, tilting your head. It took a couple of seconds until Arthur caught on, but then he blushed.

"I- I don't wanna take advantage of ya bein' drunk an' all that", Arthur stammered on.

You shook your head smilingly and stepped closer. Just enough to leave a couple of inches between your faces. You whispered a "You won't. Drunk or not, I've liked you for a long time now" and waited until he closed the gap between you and your lips met again.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Out of Darkness, Into Light

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Bonus Prompt | Prompt: Light in the Darkness

Summary: Only darkness. Only the algorithm. Only the machine. Alone. Always alone. POV: Echo Rating: PG (Word Count: 475)

Read on Ao3

 “Echo, look out!”

        Fives was shouting, but Echo could barely hear him over the persistent roar of blaster fire surrounding him, targeting him, he needed to take out that turret gun, he needed to save the shuttle so they could all escape…

        A deafening boom. Searing, blistering heat. Concussive force. Shredded skin, muscle, bone. Intolerable pain.

       Darkness. 

***

        A hazy grayness. So much pain. Excruciating, constant, overwhelming agony. Please, bring back the darkness…

***

        Voices. Not Fives. Not friends. The blackness, the darkness has subsided to gray again. Wide eyes – a droid. And machines. Lots of machines. Can’t move. Paralyzed limbs – no, missing limbs. Device at his arm. Sparks. Why are there sparks where his arm should be? Whirring drowns out the voices. Pain overpowers the grayness. Darkness.

***

        Machines. More machines. More pain. More grayness. More darkness.

***

        Machines. More machines. Voices. No friends. Alone. Always alone.

***

        Machines. More machines. No flesh. Only metal. Always metal. No warmth. Only cold. Ice cold metal. Metal machines turn him to metal. Put him in a machine. He is the machine.

***

        No gray. Only darkness. Only queries. Only battle strategies. Only the algorithm. Only the machine.

***

        Query: Who is this?

        Who. Who? A machine is a what. Not a who…

        A pinprick of light. He is not “what,” but “who.” He has a designation, he has a name. Name? No. Not a name. A number.

        Respond: CT-1409.

***

        The pinprick of light has faded. No gray. Only darkness. Only the algorithm. Only the machine. Alone. Always alone.

        And then… Grayness, but more than that. Is that… Warmth?

        “Echo.”

        Voices. Why… How… Familiar voice. Familiar name. His name.

        Unplugged, somewhere. Release, ever so slight. Release from the machine.

        “… gotta get him out… figure out… this mess.”

        Warmth grows. Cold fades. Hands. Hands of flesh, not metal. Hands, warm arms holding him, his… body. His body of flesh. Not just metal. Not just machine.

        “What have they done to you?”

        Familiar voice. Memories. Where… Citadel. Rescue the Jedi. Trap. Droids everywhere. We have to get to the shuttle to escape the citadel. No. I’ll go first.

        “Echo. Echo!”

        Echo. Echo, look out! Fives… No, this isn’t Fives. Why is Rex calling his name? Memory of sound, heat, pain…

        “It’s Rex. I’m here.”

        Grayness abruptly gives way to clarity. Familiar voice. Familiar face.

        “Rex? You came back for me.”

        “Yes. Yes, I did.”

        Why… What… Memories of machines, cold, metal, alone. Fading memories. Fading nightmare.

        “What happened? Where am I?”

        “It’s okay, Echo. You’re safe now. Just sit tight, trooper. You’re going home.”

        Rex, a familiar face, a friendly face, a trusted face. Now here’s a new face, a serious but kind face, kind eyes. Tech. A new brother.

        No more machine. Only friends. Only brothers.

        No more cold. Only warmth.

        No more darkness. Only light.   

@summer-of-bad-batch

[thelostgirl21]

Okay... but I've just realised (thanks to this beautiful gifset) that, when Jaskier asked "What are you doing here?" to Geralt, the question was a very direct one, as if Jaskier already knew that Geralt's presence there was obviously no coincidence.

And, of course, the answer he got wasn't: "I went looking for you because I missed having you in my life, was worried about you, and heard you'd gotten yourself into trouble. So, I came here to rescue you and ask if, perhaps, you'd want us to go get some ale and talk about what happened..."

It was: "I need your help".

Because that's what Jaskier does: care about and help people. And Geralt came back into his life because he needed his help and expected Jaskier to still care enough to agree to help him.

Whereas the only personal request that Radovid ever made to Jaskier was for him to sing a song...

And he told Jaskier:

Yet, the very first thing that Radovid ever told Jaskier about himself was:

i.e. A song very much NOT about a white-haired Witcher.

Literally, the things Jaskier learned about him, in chronological order, are that:

- He's good at randomly catching lutes.

- Oh no, he's hot.

- He's long wanted to see Jaskier in person... what?!

- His favorite song is "Song of the Seven".

- Oh! Good! He's a fan!

- His name is Radovid...

- ...Comma, PRINCE?!?!?!

So, Jaskier knew that Radovid loved "Song of the Seven" the most even before he ever knew that he was talking to the crown prince of Redania named Radovid.

And what did that ridiculous spoon of a prince do?

Ask him to pick a song of his choice while gently trying to orient said choice towards a song that others would love to hear him sing.

It may be a small detail but, even in his private quarters, Radovid is already making choices for the benefit of all in attendance rather than allowing himself to be selfish by demanding from Jaskier the song that he would most wish to hear him sing.

And, after Jaskier surprises him by choosing to be emotionally open and vulnerable with him - singing something to him directly from his heart - Radovid shows gratefulness and appreciation by making the effort of learning his song and attempting to sing it back to him.

On top, of course, of lowering his own mask and allowing himself to be honest about his feelings, who he is, and agreeing to do what he can do to help Jaskier in his search for Rience.

Radovid is all about reciprocity, taking other people's needs into consideration, and not taking anything Jaskier is willing to offer him for granted.

And, after Jaskier was hurt by the mistake he made, he literally stopped expecting or believing that he was entitled to receive anything from Jaskier anymore.

So, when Jaskier asked Radovid the question "Why are you here?", it almost feels like a question directed at Radovid, but also at Destiny, or the gods in general, because, somehow, he went searching for his family... and Radovid was the first person that crossed his path.

Like "something" was trying to let Jaskier know that Radovid is now a part of that family, too, and he wasn't meant to get rid of him the way he did that morning.

He also discovered that Radovid told the truth about having given his royal security detail the slip before coming to see him and Ciri, as all the guards and servants that were assigned to him have been violently massacred in his absence...

And now, there he is... weeping alone in a corner, defenseless, surrounded by the corpses of the people that were supposed to keep him safe but can obviously no longer do anything to help him...

The crown prince of a Kingdom that the Nilfgaardian Empire has just declared war upon (and therefore, a prime target for capture to use as a negotiation tool with King Vizimir).

And what is Radovid, Comma Prince, concerned about the most?

Taking up too much of Jaskier's valuable time...

Like, for fuck's sake, Radovid!

All you did was answer Jaskier's question regarding what had happened here, you spoon!

You were offering Jaskier your time and knowledge. Not the other way around!

There's no need for you to apologize for freaking existing, and perhaps needing a bit of support given that the reason all of your guards are dead - and you're now stuck in such a vulnerable position - is that you ditched said guards the night before to keep Jaskier and Ciri safe from them!

If you'd done as you were expected to do, chances are that you would all have been on your way to Tretogor by now.

And, okay, granted, Jaskier and Ciri would probably have been glaring at you the whole way there, trying to escape, and hating you forever (which would've been a bad thing).

BUT, you and your whole royal security detail wouldn't have been at Aretuza during the coup; so I'm sure that, at least, they would have been happy to be, you know, not dead, and helping you get back home in one piece!

So, although you had no idea something bad would be happening to your guards if you just ran off on them, you still chose to put yourself at risk by wandering alone at night in the woods, and refusing to use force to convince Ciri and Jaskier to go with you.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but I think Jaskier is starting to get a better grasp of the type of pressure you were dealing with, and seeing how you might have made choices that seemed to be "the least bad option".

I know I've seen some comments essentially going "Jaskier is such a good person to consider still helping Radovid after he's betrayed him", and I'm not denying that.

But I like to personally think that part of what was going on in his brain, in that moment, was realizing the risks that Radovid had already taken to keep him and his family safe, and the mistake Jaskier himself had made earlier, at least.

Because, when it comes down to it, I've always felt like it was a bit unreasonable for Jaskier to have expected Radovid to 100% trust him with everything he knew, and completely let his own guards down around him, when Jaskier himself couldn't do the same with him.

Each time I watch the scene in the shed, I feel like Jaskier was testing Radovid's loyalties by letting him know that the magical barrier only lasted until dawn, while utterly ignoring what Radovid was actually trying to tell him.

Jaskier might have wanted to trust him, but he couldn't - not yet. So, how could he have expected Radovid to spontaneously share with him everything that worried him, too, or every detail of what he was planing to do in an attempt to fix things?

In a way, I can't help but feel like they are both way too smart and analytical for their own good during that scene.

Like, I know we keep saying that Radovid should have told Jaskier that he wanted to go see Ciri (and I don't exactly disagree), but the problem is that Radovid, up until that point, was operating on the belief that:

- Dijkstra and Philippa were planning to expose and execute Vilgefortz and his spies before Nilfgaard had any chance to know that they were onto them.

And had that messenger not been killed and intercepted, technically, they may very well have succeeded in that endeavor.

But Nilfgaard learned of Redania's plans and were able to turn the tables on them. Something that Radovid wouldn't have known.

So, if we go with the scenario of what was supposed to happen at Thanedd, had Ciri agreed to ally herself with Redania, then every vassal state / kingdom still loyal to Cintra would have joined the North against the Nilfgaardian Empire.

With that level of support, it would technically have been enough to crush any hope of Nilfgaard ever winning a battle against the Northern Kingdoms, and thus, averted a second war between these two superpowers from happening.

At least, for the time being.

From Radovid's P.OV., knowing what he knows, Ciri agreeing to come with them would have, indeed, made everything easier for, well - pretty much everyone, really!

From a personal standpoint, he would have completed the job his brother had given him, and would no longer have needed to keep dealing with Philippa or Dijkstra.

Jaskier would also have gotten what he wanted; i.e. Ciri at the head of the most powerful army on the Continent (by combining Redania's forces with Cintra's and every single smaller Kingdom loyal to them) and able to keep herself safe from her enemies.

And with these two problems out of the way, it would have been much easier for Jaskier and Radovid to be together.

But the thing is that - according to the intel that Radovid had access to by that point- the 2nd war would also have been avoided, and countless lives would have been saved.

And I don't think that it would have been too far fetched to believe that Radovid might have hoped that Ciri's arrival at the Redanian court might have shaken things up a bit there, too.

First, because she's the granddaughter of Queen Calanthe - a headstrong, fierce warrior queen whose authority was greatly respected by her subjects. So, if Ciri has inherited some of her temperament (though hopefully not her ideals), then she wouldn't have been so easy to control and manipulate.

Whereas, from what we've seen, King Vizimir was pretty much likely to go with other people's ideas as long as they were presented to him in a way where he felt like he was the one making the decisions, told that they would reflect well on him and his Kingdom, and that there would be no annoying complaints for him to deal with.

Second, because it's doubtful that she would have wanted to be parted from Geralt and Yennefer, either; and things would likely have been much safer at court with these two around.

And if Radovid's initial plan of just "knocking at the door" had worked, then Ciri would have been in the same room as Jaskier when he would have showed up there, and she could have been able to make the decision of at least hearing out what the prince had to say, or not.

The choice would have been up to her and, had she refused, then at least Radovid would have done all he could to attempt to prevent yet more bad things from happening.

But then, the he suddenly found himself in a situation where, if he wanted to talk to Ciri, not only did it have to wait until morning - since anyone trying to enter the cabin would be blown back by a powerful magical force field (let's all give a good round of applause to Jaskier, that thought stepping out of an incredibly strong protective barrier to go investigate a potential threat with nothing to protect himself but a lute was a better idea than remaining INSIDE the impenetrable protective force that would have held until dawn...) - but he would need to request permission from Jaskier first.

Except Jaskier's job is to look after Ciri and make decisions that are the best for HER until her parents return. Not make decisions that are the best to avoid a war between Nilfgaard and the North (among others)!

So imagine, for a moment, that Radovid had chosen to explain to Jaskier everything he already knew...

That he'd told him that the Redanian spymasters suspected that Vilgefortz was working with Nilfgaard, had spies working with him from within Aretuza, and that the second war was imminent.

Imagine that he'd explained to Jaskier that Ciri, and the amount of political power she represents, might be the only thing that could sufficiently tip the scale in the Northern Kingdoms' favor to prevent another war from happening.

Imagine that he'd told him that, while he'd ditched the small army (a.k.a. his "security detail") that had been meant to accompany him while he "went to see him for information as per Philippa's request" to prevent risking them attempting to take the princess by force, he still felt that he'd had to do what he could to convince her to come to Redania with them of her own free will.

That he couldn't, in good conscience, let the war happen, knowing he hadn't done something to at least try to prevent it.

Imagine he'd told Jaskier exactly what was actually at stake...

First, there's no guarantee that Jaskier would have believed him, and there's no way he could have proven to him that he was telling the truth, either.

Second, Jaskier might have felt like he was betraying Geralt and Yennefer's trust - should he have decided to allow the Prince of Redania to attempt to convince their daughter to ally with his nation to help stop a war from happening.

And third, in the event that Jaskier had refused Radovid's request to be given a chance to speak with Ciri, then Jaskier might have felt like he was responsible for having made the wrong call should a war indeed be declared upon the Northern Kingdoms, because the North lacked enough power, and support, to stay Nilfgaard's hand.

That's a whole lot of responsibilities to drop on Jaskier's shoulders, and a lot of lives to risk on the hope that Jaskier might believe he is telling the truth.

And Radovid does not know what Jaskier himself knows, either. So, he's unaware that Geralt does not want Ciri to become involved in politics, and be forced to take sides (at least, by that point).

The two of them are both operating on the limited amount of information they both have, and trying to make decisions that appear to be the best course of action for everyone involved.

And when Jaskier asked the question "And what do you want?" Radovid clearly hesitated, then came up with an answer that I believe was 100% honest, but clearly evaded the question.

And Jaskier never confronted him about it. He didn't insist that this wasn't what he asked him, nor attempt to get to the bottom of the situation.

I'm 99.9% sure that he did notice how Radovid avoided giving him a straight answer (yes, I know, there's nothing straight about either of them), though, because he immediately became suspicious and looked outside.

But, instead, he gave Radovid the information that the force field would stop working at dawn, later pretended to still be asleep when dawn came, and waited to see what Radovid would do with the information.

One of the most heartbreaking things, to me, however, is that Radovid's answer, when Jaskier gave him that information, was to tell him "I'm scared, Jaskier"...

And Jaskier didn't ask him why he was afraid...

He didn't attempt to investigate what scared him and if - by any chance - it could be scary enough that he might be tempted to do something stupid.

I'm not blaming Jaskier, by the way... Their situation was extremely complex, and Jaskier had his own fears and issues to deal with and manage as best he could.

Radovid is not the only one breaking my heart in that scene, because I think that Jaskier has such a hard time believing that someone could genuinely love him the way Radovid does, that he's unwittingly setting him up to go behind his back by avoiding to fully acknowledge and investigate Radovid's fears.

I think it's easier for Jaskier to believe that Radovid was just so smart that he knew exactly what to say to him, and what to do, to encourage him to lower his own barriers around him and start trusting him - just so he could try to take Ciri from them...

...than to believe that Radovid really would be able to see him and appreciate him just the way he is, and that the connection between them is real.

So yes, Radovid did technically "fail" Jaskier's test. But sadly, I think that Jaskier stopped truly listening to Radovid the moment he decided to test him.

If Jaskier had been brave enough to confront him about the evasiveness of his answer and the reasons why he was scared - if he'd shown Radovid that he genuinely cared about his safety and wanted to help him face those fears, and/or for them to find solutions to Radovid's problems together - Jaskier might have been able to prevent him from making that mistake in the first place.

But, instead, Jaskier came up with his own narrative that would confirm his own fears of never being enough for anyone; and sadly, I don't think that anything Radovid could have done or said, in that moment, would have changed his mind.

And poor Radovid internalized the hurt and heartbreak he saw reflected there as if he was the only one responsible for it.

So then, when Jaskier offers to help Radovid get back to safety, he's confused that he would even wish to help him after the way he managed to so profoundly wound and disappoint him earlier.

Radovid, you may not know this, but Jaskier once told his very best friend in the whole wide world "People do stupid things when they think they're trapped in a corner. And they say stupid things. That's what friends do. They come back."

And somehow, you "came back", because Destiny apparently decided to take pity on Jaskier's own issues and insecurities, and urge him to take a second, closer, deeper look.

And it's not even being subtle about it!

Like "Oi! PRINCE. TRAPPED. IN. A. LITERAL. CORNER. WITH. NOWHERE. SAFE. TO. GO. He told you he was scared earlier, and you didn't even ask him why! He didn't need someone to tell him he was brave, and then wait for him to do something stupid come morning, Jaskier! What he needed, was someone investigating what terrified him, and offering him support. Do you get it now? Prince. Corner. Scared. Trapped. Needing help, but not even able to believe he's entitled to it or not knowing how to ask for it! So fucking help him, for fuck's sake!"

And Jaskier needs to offer, because Radovid apparently keeps putting other people's needs first. So, chances probably are that Radovid won't ask unless he knows for sure it's okay and safe for him to ask anything of anyone whose job is not to tend to him.

Because, in his world, Radovid's main survival strategy seems to have been to constantly provide narcissistic supply to his brother's oversized ego (to be "adored" and protected by the King), by cheering him on from the sidelines, while drawing as little attention as he could to himself.

In Radovid's world, he doesn't matter: he's a spare, easy to cast aside and forget about. As long as the King's pleased with him, he's safe.

(Or he used to be, before the whole Hedwig incident.)

You shouldn't have to listen to him, because he's of no use to anyone and he doesn't matter.

He's no more than a pretty reflective surface for his brother to admire himself in whenever there's no other more interesting image of himself to gaze upon.

That's Radovid's job. Letting others hog the spotlight, coming in second, and stopping to exist whenever convenient.

And when Jaskier says that he can't go with him because he needs to find his family first, Radovid immediately offers to go risk his own life, and use whatever resources he can spare, to help Jaskier be reunited with the people he loves most like it's the most natural thing in the world for a prince to do!

No wonder Jaskier couldn't figure him out... He's used to people just spontaneously dumping all of their issues on him while expecting him to do or say something about it.

While Radovid is going "you don't have to listen to me or care about my issues, but maybe I could do something to help you with yours?"

All the while being the one that would likely benefit the most from having someone genuinely listening to and helping him.

Jaskier: What are you doing here?

Geralt: I need your help.

Jaskier: *Sighs* Figures...

Jaskier: Why are you here?

Radovid: Came looking for my guards, didn't go well, now there's a war and I'm hiding in a corner... Story of my life that I don't want to bore you with... But hey! Maybe I could help you go find and rescue your family instead?

Jaskier: !!!???

[galaxysupreme17]

Scarlet Widow

Okay, so I have been on an Avengers and Criminal Minds binge. I was pacing around my room thinking of writing prompts, and a crossover between the two came to my mind, and I needed to get it out before I forgot. This is Emily Prentiss X Tara Lewis. (I love Temily). This is also the x daughter!Reader!!

Y/n Danvers had lived many lives in her seventeen years. Trained in the Black Widow program from the tender age of five, she had seen more hardship and danger than most people experienced in a lifetime. 

Rescued at fifteen by Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, she found solace and guidance under Natasha's care until she was legally an adult. Now, Nick Fury, the ever-watchful director of SHIELD, had given her a new mission: infiltrate the BAU and gather intelligence on a rogue agent named James Monroe.

James Monroe had been suspected of targeting various federal bureaus, and SHIELD was next on his list after the BAU. He used his status to collect young kids and send them to train in Hydra or the Black Widow Program. Y/n's mission was clear, but it was complicated by her assignment to live undercover with two foster mothers, Emily Prentiss and Tara Lewis, both prominent members of the BAU.

In the foster system, Y/n had been taken in by Emily and Tara. At first, it was just another mission. But over ten months, Y/n had grown attached to the two women who had become her foster mothers. They had no idea their new daughter was the Scarlet Widow, an Avenger with unparalleled combat skills.

Emily and Tara treated Y/n with kindness and care, giving her a sense of stability she hadn't felt in years. They attended her school events, celebrated her successes, and provided comfort during tough times. Y/n felt like a normal teenager for the first time in a long while despite the weight of her secret.

Late one evening, Y/n sat in her room, scrolling through her phone. The glow of the screen illuminated her face as she messaged Natasha.

Y/n: I don't know how much longer I can keep this secret from them, Nat. They've been so good to me.

Natasha: I know it's tough, kid. But you're doing this to protect them and many others. Stay strong.

Y/n: I know. It's just... they're starting to feel like real family.

Natasha: That's a good thing, Y/n. It means you're healing. Just remember, you can always talk to me. We're in this together.

Y/n: Thanks, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Natasha: You'd probably be even more of a badass than you already are. 😉

Y/n smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. Natasha had always been like a big sister to her, guiding her, protecting her, and pushing her to be her best. Their bond was unbreakable, forged in the fires of their shared experiences.

Y/n: How's everything at HQ?

Natasha: Busy as always. Clint's been teaching the new recruits some archery tricks. You'd love to see it.

Y/n: I miss you guys.

Natasha: We miss you too. Just focus on the mission for now. We'll have a big reunion when this is all over.

Y/n: Deal. Stay safe, Nat.

Natasha: You too, Y/n. Remember, if you need anything, I'm just a call away.

The next day, the BAU team was called to a scene that quickly became a nightmare. Held hostage by James Monroe's partner, Jessica Black, the team found themselves in dire straits.

"Everyone stay calm," Aaron Hotchner ordered, trying to maintain control. "We'll find a way out of this."

In a nearby park, Y/n received a call from Agent Coulson. "Y/n, the team is in trouble. Jessica Black has them hostage. You need to reveal yourself and take them down."

Y/n's heart raced. This was the moment she had dreaded and prepared for. She suited up in her combat uniform, the familiar feel of her gear grounding her. She was no longer just Y/n Danvers; she was the Scarlet Widow.

The compound was heavily guarded, but Y/n moved through it with the precision and agility drilled into her during her years of training. She dispatched guards with swift, calculated moves, her senses on high alert.

Inside the building, Jessica noticed the disturbance on the security monitors. "James," she called, "we have company."

James turned his attention to the monitors, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

Tara looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

James chuckled. "Your little foster daughter has quite the secret."

Emily and Tara exchanged worried glances. "What secret?" Emily demanded.

"You'll see soon enough," James said, returning to the screen.

Y/n moved through the corridors, her focus unwavering. She reached the door to the room where the BAU team was being held and took a deep breath. This was it.

She burst through the door, gun drawn. "Everyone, stay down!"

James laughed. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

"Shut up, James," Y/n snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"What are you going to do? You don't have the rest of your team here."

"I don't need them. I can handle myself pretty well."

"Sure you can. Why don't you remove that mask and show our guests who you truly are?"

"Stop talking," Y/n growled, her patience wearing thin.

She lunged at James, their fight a blur of fists and kicks. Jessica joined in, and Y/n found herself outnumbered but undeterred. She fought with a ferocity that came from years of training and a deep-seated need to protect those she cared about.

James managed to pin Y/n down at one point, ripping her mask off. Emily and Tara gasped as they recognized their foster daughter.

"Y/n?" Tara whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/n didn't let the revelation slow her down. She kicked James off her, using the momentum to flip back onto her feet. She moved with deadly precision, taking down Jessica and James in a series of swift, calculated moves. Within moments, both were on the floor, tied up and subdued.

"Agent Coulson, the room is secure," Y/n spoke into her comms. "You can bring in the rest of the agents."

Coulson and a team of SHIELD agents stormed in, quickly securing the area. Y/n ran over to Emily and Tara, her heart pounding. "Are you both okay?"

Emily and Tara nodded, still in shock. "Y/n, we had no idea," Emily said, her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Y/n replied, her eyes full of emotion. "I had to keep it a secret."

Coulson approached, calling Y/n to the side. "Fury wants you back for a new mission," he said quietly.

Y/n glanced at Emily and Tara, who talked with JJ and Matt. They all took glances at her and Coulson. "Tell Fury no. I need to clean some things up here."

Coulson nodded, understanding. "Take the time you need."

As Coulson walked away, Emily and Tara approached, unsure what to say. They just stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. Y/n looked at them, tears welling up in her eyes, and immediately fell into their arms, hugging them tightly. Emily started checking Y/n for any severe injuries, her maternal instincts kicking in.

"Are you hurt?" Emily asked, her hands gently inspecting Y/n's face and arms.

"I'm okay, really," Y/n assured her, a small smile on her lips.

Back at the BAU, the team gathered in the conference room. Y/n stood at the front, taking a deep breath. "It's okay to ask questions," she said, her voice steady.

Before anyone could speak, Penelope Garcia burst through the door. "I found out everything about Y/n!" she exclaimed, waving a folder. "Emily and Tara asked me to look into her background."

The team smiled, and Y/n nodded at Penelope to continue. "Go ahead, Penelope."

Penelope explained Y/n's history, from her early years in the Black Widow program to her rescue by Natasha and Clint. Y/n filled in the details, explaining her training and the mission that brought her to the BAU. Emily and Tara listened intently, taking in every word.

As the meeting ended and everyone left, Emily and Tara lingered. "What does this mean for our little family?" Emily asked softly, looking at Y/n with concern.

[banana-pancake5]

Sisters a Dimension Apart Chapter 1: An Unexpected Rescue

———

“Leo never gave up on us, I’m not giving up on him!” Mikey yelled with his arms pushed forward and tears streaming down his face.

Casey had said something about him having magic hands and he was really really hoping he was right because if Casey was wrong… if Mikey couldn’t save Leo… no. He will save Leo.

His finger tips started to burn. He felt his ninpo pulsing through his body. Beginning in his heart, rushing up his arms, and finally surging through his fingers and out in the form of a glowing tear in the sky.

“Mikey whatever you’re doing… don’t stop!” Raph shouted from a few feet away.

Mikey’s memories of Leo all came rushing to his mind. Watching Jupiter Jim together way past their bed time as tots. How he would help when Mikey cut his finger. All of his huge elaborate birthday parties. His dumb skate board tricks that never worked. His confident smile. The constant puns and silly jokes.

He ripped the tear in the sky open even wider. The pain shot up his hands like every atom was set ablaze.

He felt Raph’s palm grip his shoulder. Then Donnie’s joined too. He felt the comfort and stability of his brothers’ ninpo surround him.

His skin split and cracked like he was being ripped apart, just like the portal he was trying so desperately to keep together.

The cracks traveled up his skin in an agonizing race to devour him completely.

Once the cracks reached his shoulders some of the burden was lifted by his brothers’ support. He felt as the cracks stopped in their pursuit and traveled on to other targets.

The portal finally took shape. He could see the other side. He could look into the dark, empty Prison Dimension. And just a few feet away was his fearless brother in blue.

“Leo!” Mikey let out a heart wrenching cry as he saw his brother turn over to face his family.

Leo made a pitiful noise that was presumed to be a laugh, “Heh, took you guys long enough.”

Leo reached forward. He reached with every bit of fleeting strength he had left. He reached toward his family he thought he’d never see again. He reached for the planet he had sacrificed himself for. He reached for the feeling of warmth and of safety radiating off his family.

Without missing a beat Raph summoned a construct arm and thrusted it through the portal. He gripped Leo’s arm like it was his only life line. But right as he began pulling Leo towards him, towards home, a sudden shadow loomed behind him… Krang Prime.

Donnie immediately jumped into action, summoning a ginormous Drill construct and sent it plowing into the Krang.

No way they were about to lose Leo again. They were too close.

The drill’s force pried Krang Prime off of Leo, hurling him into the abyss of the Prison Dimension. The knock back gave Raph just enough time to pull Leo through the threshold and safe onto Staten Island.

Krang Prime hurled himself toward the portal with an enraged roar.

Mikey stared him down, gave him his classic goofy smile, and closed the portal with a wink.

The second Leo had crossed through the portal, the turtle that had gripped his leg seconds before was sent tumbling like a rag-doll across Staten Island.

But no one had noticed.

Not even when Leo let out a scream of pain when her claws tore out of his leg.

They were all in shock. They had Leo back. He was alive. They did it. They beat the Krang. They were all safe.

Meanwhile, Leo was in utter agony. He had several broken bones, ribs, and probably a concussion or two. His leg was actively bleeding from the deep punctures caused by something that had just latched onto his leg literal seconds ago. His shell felt as if it had been smashed to pieces, glued back together, then ripped from his spine twenty times. The only taste in his mouth was from the blood that slowly dripped off his lip. He wanted to do nothing more than to lie down and sob for hours (except for the fact that the act of crying would be excruciating for his broken ribs), but hey, his brothers were here and he knew what that meant… show time.

He put on a goofy grin (Igniting every muscle in a fiery symphony). He held back a wince and a cough (which was harder than he’d ever admit), “ewwww are we on Staten Island!?” His voice rasped and the words ripped through his sore throat. But he showed no signs of pain. Because what else is the face man supposed to do? Let his brothers freak out because he’s half dead!?

Within seconds everyone was in a bone crushing hug with Leo stuck in the middle. Lucky for Leo all his bones were already crushed, Krang Prime saw to that personally. But that didn’t help the pain one bit.

They were all too busy crying over their precious rescued brother to even notice their long lost sister lying only a few yards behind.

“HAH LOSER, I WON!!”

Everyone slowly turned their heads to the cry of victory heard from behind them.

“TAKE THAT DEATH!! I WON. I BEAT YOU. IM FREEEEEEEE!! YA HERE THAT BESTIE?!?! I. GOT. OUT. AND YOU DIDN’T!! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!!”

A few yards behind them was another turtle, she was screaming out in a scratchy voice directed to no one at all. The turtle quickly delved into a howling laughter rolling across Staten Island with her hands clutching her plastron. The laughs devolved into hacking coughs before cycling back into the same manic laughter as before.

They really needed to process what in pizza supreme just happened, but it seemed like Leo had other plans.

Right after they noticed the hysterical turtle rolling around on the ground, Leo’s suppressed injuries caught up to him in full. He weakly tried to tug on Raph’s mask tails to alert him but only lifted a finger before promptly losing consciousness.

Everyone immediately focused their attention on Leo. Donnie started barking orders. Everything was moving so fast. Raph tore off a bit of his mask tail to dress the punctures in Leo’s leg. Donnie checked Leo’s pulse and then frantically started chest compressions with tears welling in his eyes. Everyone was shouting and rushing and the howling laughter and horrendous coughs from the stranger did not help.

Mikey just sat there uselessly trying not to freak out. The glowing cracks on his arms began to fade, leaving behind swollen bleeding cuts all the way up his shoulder. Every slight movement caused pain he couldn’t bear. He couldn’t help anyone. Even if his arms didn’t hurt he’d have do idea where to start. Leo was dying right in front of him and he could do absolutely nothing. It was torture.

A few moments later Donnie seemed to have stabilized Leo but the yelling continued. Now he was shouting something about a van into his broken communicator. Mikey had never heard Donnie this panicked, but not just panicked, Donnie sounded desperate. He wasn’t just barking orders, he was begging for the orders to be followed through. And Mikey couldn’t do a thing.

The constant background noise of howling laughter changed. It turned into a fit of coughs that didn’t circle back to laughs. It just got worse and worse then…

It stopped.

Raph and Donnie definitely noticed but didn’t change what they were doing. And Mikey wasn’t doing anything so… why not check on the stranger?

Mikey carefully stood up trying not to move his arms and approached the turtle on the ground.

And oh my.

Her eyes were closed as she lay there. Her breathes were small and shallow. There were huge scars trailing every inch of her body. Rapidly forming bruises and a few cuts scattered all over her body.

She must have just been in a fight.

Her plastron had a large crack by her right shoulder (kind of like Raph’s new one but bigger). Her shell, though Mikey couldn’t see much, looked like giant chunks were missing. She had little yellow spots on her shoulders and legs and a red spot next to each of her eyes with a large scar covering the left one. She had scraps of some sort of brown fabric wrapped around her legs and used as a belt and sash like his own. She had some sort of gauntlets on her arms and a black top going just under her plastron with a little orange thing on the left side that Mikey was too overwhelmed to think about.

He leaned over her head and looked at her. She was breathing, that was good, but it seemed a little wrong. Too shallow. Too quick. Then she just stopped as if she was holding her breath.

“Um… hey are you alright? You look pretty hurt maybe I could help—“

“Boo!” Her eyes popped open and she waved her hands like jazz hands.

Mikey stood there completely shocked as two large Krangfied eyes stared back at him. He froze. They just defeated the Krang. This couldn’t be happening. His eyes darted to the large gauntlets. It was part of a Krang mech. The orange symbol on the her black top was the symbol of the foot clan. He stumbled backwards. He fell to the ground and instinctively caught himself with his hands—

“AGHH!!” He let out an agonizing scream as his arms tried to support him. They buckled and collapsed immediately and he fell hard to the ground.

His brothers turned to see Mikey on the floor with terror and tears in his eyes. And to the right of him was a stranger, now sitting up, falling over, standing, spinning her arms in an attempt to balance herself and falling again. They had no idea what happened but they didn’t deem the other turtle a threat so Raph rushed over to help Mikey. Donnie was just clutching Leo’s hand with tears begging to fall. He couldn’t leave his Twin’s side.

Raph made it to Mikey and scooped him up from the ground, “What happened Mike, are you okay!? What’s hurt’n? Raph’s here to help ya.”

Mikey raised a shaky hand, he winced in pain as he did, pointing toward the stranger, who was now successfully on her feet looking like a toddler who didn’t know how to walk.

Raph looked but was still confused. Did that stranger hurt him? From the looks of it she doesn’t even know how to move! He looked down at Mikey’s shaking hand and noticed the awful blistering wounds. “Mikey your arms!”

Mikey lowered his hand and attempted to speak in a shaky, unstable voice, “I- I’m fine Raph, b- b— but her! She- she’s—“

Suddenly she was only a few inches away from Raph’s face. She was almost the same height as Raph perhaps an inch or two shorter. They met each other’s gaze.

Face to face with the eyes of Krang.

He hastily stepped back. The feeling of the Krang tendrils writhing on his skin flooded his senses.

She just looked at him with a playful grin, it was sickening. It was almost as if he was staring at Prime’s smug face again but her grin had less hate and malice behind it.

She beamed up at him and spoke in the same scratchy voice that had been screaming about escaping death only minutes ago, “HI! It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is… well I don’t even— HAHA!! I don’t even know my own name!! How funny is that!?” Her manic laughter came back in full only to be immediately stopped by a series of dangerous coughs. Her large gauntlets gripped her carapace as she was sent doubled over from coughing.

In the middle of her coughs she raised a hand to Raph.

Raph stared in horror at the hand raised to him. Was it an attack? What was she doing? Is she infected by Krang!? She has to be, she has their eyes! But where’s the tendrils? He couldn’t come to a single conclusion, but he held onto his baby brother as tight as he could. Whatever happened, she would NOT hurt Mikey anymore.

She looked up once her coughing died down and noticed her own hand still raised in front of Raph. “Huh, I thought you would’ve shaken it by now… do people not shake hands anymore!? Heh that’s kinda funny I look like an idiot now don’t I. Haha…”

“Wh- who are you?” Raph stammered in a shaky voice.

“Ummm hellloooooo? Did you not hear ANYTHING I just sai—“ she made eye contact with Donnie and abruptly stopped in the middle of her sentence. Donnie stared back from a couple yards away still clutching Leo’s hand.

Raph silently backed away and made his way toward his brother.

Donnie looked her up and down. He saw the scars, the gauntlets, the foot symbol, and the eyes. He felt the writhing tendrils crawling up his exposed shell. He remembered the agony from being ripped from the control unit. He blinked. Trying to form a single coherent thought.

“I WIN!” She said as she kept her eyes locked on Donnie.

“…what?”

She ran up to him in the blink of an eye, “I won. You blinked. That means I won.” Her face was inches away from Donnie’s. Her words came out oddly monotone, a stark contrast to seconds ago. Then, she straightened up and stood with a wild grin on her face. She made no move to attack. She just stood.

Raph moved beside Donnie with Mikey standing safely behind both of them. Raph was fully prepared to fight ten Krang before he would let anyone lay another finger on his brothers.

Donnie positioned himself over Leo’s body in a pathetic attempt to protect him.

Donnie’s thoughts were spinning and the sensations of slimy tendrils still seeped into every thought. Why wasn’t she attacking them? They were defenseless. If she were Krangified wouldn’t she have just outright tried to kill them? That’s what… that’s what Raph did when he was Krangified.

She dropped to a crouch in front of Donnie. Raph flinched forward, ready to pummel her if she made any moves.

“Soooo… whatcha doin’? Who’s the dead guy?” She asked as she stared at Leo’s unconscious body.

“He is NOT dead! What do you want with us?!” Raph snapped from behind. Though he looked to Donnie to confirm his first exclamation. Donnie offered a small nod and a grunt.

“Wooooahhhh chill out!! I’m not looking for a fight. Haha I’ve had my fair share for today! And from the looks of it you have too! Hah you guys look awful! I mean absolutely terrible!”

That came as a shock. Well not the part about them looking awful. But why was she here if she was avoiding a fight? Why didn’t she want to fight? Wasn’t she Krangfied? So why was she so different from Raph?

“Then what do you want?” Donnie asked because he was willing to do whatever as long as it kept them all safe. And he was genuinely curious.

“I would KILL to know what’s going on! Hehehe, kill get it because… well I don’t- wait that doesn’t even make sense?? What am I talking about!? HAHAhahahahaaha-” her laughs stopped abruptly. Her face fell to a serious expression, “What is going on though?”

Donnie had no idea how to articulate a summary of the past hours, especially with such short notice. It was hard to think at all when he was face to face with a possibly infected stranger.

She waited as his thoughts spun in circles. She just sat there breathing shallow breathes. It was strange, she seemed oddly patient.

He finally found a way to word everything, hoping that she’d leave once he explained, “Well… the Krang, an alien race—

“Oh yeah, I know the Krang. Heheh you thought I didn’t know who the Krang were! That’s hilarious!!”

“…anyway, they invaded earth,” Donnie spoke slow and careful, “we fought them. We managed to trap them back in the prison dimension,” his eyes flicked to Leo before he continued, “then you came…”

She hopped back to her feet in one swift motion. She looked down at Donnie and Leo as she responded, “Well, I have no clue what this ‘Prison Dimension’ is but… oh… “ her eye contact drifted off and her expression turned blank. Though her wide, frankly scary, grin quickly came back to her face, her eyes stayed unfocused and distant as she playfully shouted, “GOING DOWN!!” And promptly fell to the ground with a small salute before her consciousness completely faded off.

The turtles all let out a sigh of relief. They didn’t know what to do with her but at the moment they had much more pressing matters. Immediately the van skidded to a stop right beside them and Casey jr, April, and splinter rushed out. The three of them were stunned by the fifth turtle on the ground but focused their attention on getting Leo in the van.

They all loaded Leo into the van and quickly prepared themselves for departure, but Mikey stared at the fifth turtle. Were they planning to just leave her behind? She was clearly injured and needed help. So he spoke up, “what about her?” He said as he eyed her from the back of the van, “we’re not just gonna leave her here right?”

Raph was sitting with Mikey in his lap. He was the first to respond, “Why wouldn’t we? Didn’t she hurt you?”

“No! No she just… scared me. But don’t you think it’s wrong to just leave her here? She needs help!”

“She’s infected Mike…” Raph softly reminded

“We don’t know that! I mean yeah, she looked like she was, but she didn’t act like it! And if she was would you really just leave her to roam New York?”

Donnie chimed in from the back of the van where he had propped Leo’s head up on his leg, “As much as I hate to admit it, Angelo has a point, Raph. We can’t just leave her here, it’s too dangerous for New York.”

“It’s too dangerous for us! What if she attacks us when she wakes up!?”

Donnie thought for a second before coming up with his response, “I could use my tech to create a sort of quarantine in the Med Bay. That way she couldn’t roam free in the city and we would be safe if she attacked.”

Raph looked down at her, focusing on her numerous scars and already purpling fresh bruises, “Fine. But you better make sure she can’t escape.”

With that they dragged her into the van as well. Donnie examined her injuries and began tending to any he could.

The car ride back to the Lair was hectic and filled with frantic questions from April and many explanations from the conscious turtles.

Arriving was all a blur. They had brought Leo into the Med Bay and Casey immediately started an IV to give him much needed fluids and pain killers. Donnie darted off to the lab immediately to create the quarantine. Splinter stayed with Leo the whole time. April sprinted off to help Donnie. Mikey and Raph stayed in the Med bay chairs and watched their face man, their brother in blue, Leo. They watched his unconscious body hooked up to so many wires and tubes. They also watched as Casey perfectly multi-tasked taking care of Leo and the stranger all while working around Splinter.

This wasn’t the end, there were much too many questions left hanging over every one of them. No, this was just a preview of the change they would have to endure.

Masterpost // Ref for Vita

———

Boy oh boy this chapter was fun to write! I love writing insane characters >:3

I hope y’all enjoyed it!

Tag list: @jadetheblueartist @exhaustedwriterartist @cookiedoesart64

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fell Into You Part 7

Pairing ghost x f!reader

Part 6 here

Part 8 here

Synopsis: Departing from the Russian base was harder than Simon or you had previously thought. But anger boils to the surface during your escape leaving the truth out to air. Where do you go from here? Or does something, or someone, stand in the way?

Warnings: canonical violence, mentions of wounds and blood.

The scratchy feeling of an old duvet scratches against your arms. The touch of a worn out mattress cushions your body as you run your hands over your face. You don’t remember what had happened after Ghost had come to your rescue after your fall. As if on queue, the pain of your leg wound radiates warmly up your body. You rub your eyes awake as you try to lift your head up from the thin pillow it lays on. A gloved hand finds purchase on your shoulder and gently brings you back down. You tilt your head to find Ghost sitting next to you. Taking in your surroundings you realize you had made it back all the way to the safehouse.

“How did we get here?” You ask in a crackly voice. Your throat is terribly dry, Ghost offers his water canteen to your cracked lips. You drink it greedily while Ghost's hand never leaves your shoulder. 

“I carried you.” He replies. You can’t help the scoff you give him nearly choking on the water. 

“Are you crazy? That could have gotten you compromised!” You attempt to sound stern, but your voice is still trying to find itself. His fingers grip into you with a tad more pressure. His eyes don’t leave your own. 

“I thought I lost ya back there.” He responds. Never did Simon’s voice have an inkling of emotion in the time you had known him. He was reserved, a well oiled cold machine. But now, well now, you don’t miss the sad undertone his voice takes. 

“Doesn’t matter, mission comes first.” You respond, looking away from Ghost. You attempt once again to lift yourself up but pain grips you once again. You can’t help the strained noise that comes from your throat when you attempt to lift your leg. 

“Oi, don’t be an idiot. It’s nearly morning, we aren’t moving for another hour or two. Gain your strength tonight.” Ghost reprimands you. You can’t help the lick of anger that flares in you at his words. Where was this worry when it came to you and your feelings not so long ago? Why now of all times did he decide to be your knight in white armor?

“I don’t need to be scolded by you, I don’t need you period.” You cut into him, your voice harsher than you had meant. But the turmoil of your strenuous relationship had already rooted itself in you. The anger, stress, and sadness of the past weeks seemed to always just be bubbling under the surface around Ghost. He retracts his hand from you and breaks from looking at you. 

“I saved your ass back there (y/n). That’s a hell of a thank you.” He snips back. Not that Ghost ever expected one regardless. Yes, it had been reckless to carry you all the way here. It put a target on his back and practically asked for the Russian soldiers to come find him. But the moment he had seen you hurt his mind wasn’t thinking of battle tactics. All he could see or think was you. About getting you to safety. You threw up your hands with an exasperated sigh. Mustering as much strength as you can you lift the top portion of your body up. You lean against the headboard to be eye to eye with Simon. You wring your hands together in your lap, not making eye contact with him. 

“Simon. What the hell is this?” You barely whisper out. Your throat feels like it’s closing up on you as you ask. This wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. You were still in the middle of a mission. But the feelings you had were only worsening. Your feelings were so mixed up you didn’t know which way was up. Ghost made you feel so many things all at once and it felt like you had no idea how to be around him or even talk to him. 

“What are you talking about?” Ghost responds slowly. He can feel his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth after each syllable. He knew this conversation was coming, it was inevitable. But he didn’t think it would be now. You usher your hand between the two of you. Your eyes find his once again. 

“This. Us! I don’t get it. I don’t get you! One moment we are no strings attached. Then maybe it’s more, then I find out about some other woman-“ you start going on a tangent. It feels like all the feelings you’ve been holding in are spilling over and you can help how fast the words leave you. The rush of the past months engulfs your heart and the pain with it. Ghost cuts you off before you can continue. 

“What bloody other woman? The hell are you talking about?” Ghost’s voice grows angry, borderline lethal. His eye turn to slits as they stare into your eyes. You scoff at him once again and roll your eyes. 

“Oh really? The Kuwait mission? Don’t act dumb.” You can feel the inch of a laugh enter your voice. Ghost looks at you puzzled. He searches your face for some clue as to what you were referring to. That’s about when you had stopped contact with him. But the mission itself was quite insignificant, run of the mill in his long list of missions. He had tried to come to you a day or two after and that’s when you had shut him out. That’s all he could think of. You wait for any type of lightbulb to flash for him but he continues to give you a clueless look. 

“I overheard those two girls from the Shadow unit who were with us on that mission. The one said you two fucked during it.” You spit the words like venom. You thought once you said the words out loud you would be filled with anger. That you would lash out harshly against him. But all you could feel is an emptying sorrow. You hang your head, unable to look into his eyes. Because you knew if you looked into them you would find the truth in them. You couldn’t stand it. Ghost can only stare at you in disbelief. This, this is why you weren’t talking to him anymore? 

“(Y/n), love. Look at me.” His fingers find their way to your chin as they softly turn your head to him. You can’t look him in the eyes. You focus your attention on the details of his mask. 

“I don’t have a clue where the hell you heard that. I haven’t been with anyone since we started.” Ghost replies. His hand slides from your chin to nestle against the side of your head. Your eyes widen in shock. 

“Wait, wait, you didn’t?” You ask hurriedly. 

“No. Never.” He replies without hesitation. A warm connection fizzes between your shared glances. Somehow time had stopped the moment he replied. All this anger and sadness over someone else’s lies. You grasp to find words or where to even begin to feel. 

“Ghost I-“ you start. But then static buzzes from Ghost’s radio. 

“Ghost, Crow. Do you copy? Over.” Came the staticky voice of Price. Ghost lets go of you and grabs for his radio. 

“Here, over.” He responds. 

“Your flight out will be there at 0700. You need to make your way to the rendezvous point.  Over.” Price replies. Ghost curses under his breath. You both had barely gotten any sleep since making it to the safe house, another three hours would be hard on the both of you. 

“Understood. Making way now sir, over.” Ghost finishes. He clicks the radio off and looks over to you. You had already swung yourself over the side of the bed and were testing weight being put on your leg. 

“Got anything to help here Lt?” You ask him. The pain wasn’t as bad as before but still stung terribly. You noticed that Ghost had done a commendable job at patching your leg up with fresh bandages. 

“I got a pain killer stick but I can’t say for how long it’ll last.” Ghost hands you over a syringe with a needle attached to it. You take it grateful and count to three before sticking your leg with the pain killer. You let out a small hiss at the needle but it only lasts for a second. After a minute or two you start to feel it working on the pain and you can stand with little effort. 

“Well we better get moving.” You look over at Ghost who nods in reply. 

“Can you, with your leg?” He asks. 

“I’ve had worse, come on. I’m not missing our ride.” You respond with a wink. He tosses you your pack as he loads his own onto his back. You both bundle into your layers as best as possible and set out in the freezing tundra once again. 

——

Outside Kursk - 0640 

——

The trek to Kursk went on in silence between you two. It left you both time to marinate in the words spoken back at the safehouse. Even with such a short conversation so much had changed. You curse yourself over and over for believing the women in the bathroom those weeks ago. You had hyped yourself up so much to talk to Simon that anything seemed able to burst that bubble for you. But the conviction Ghost had was enough to make you believe otherwise. But where did you go from here? Could you still go on, try to create something once again? Or was this too scarred to do once more? These thoughts kept you occupied as you pressed on through the snowy terrain. As the hours had passed the pain reliever was beginning to dwindle. The throb of your wound was pressing onto you again and you could hear your heart pump in your ears. You took a look down at your leg and saw blood beginning to run down your pant leg. The blood had leached through your pant leg and had dribbled onto the snow as you walked. The last thing you wanted was for you to tap out and have Ghost carry you once again. As much as he put on a show you knew he had to be tired. All you had to do was go a little bit longer. 

——

Kursk - 0710 

——

You both finally made it back to the small Ukrainian base just a few minutes after seven. The helicopter promised to you sat waiting on the heli pad with Price there to greet you. You would damn near run for it if it weren’t for the searing pain now shooting down your leg. Blood had begun to rush more frequently and in larger quantities. Stars danced on the edge of your vision and your focus waxed and waned out from in front of you. Almost there, almost there. You try to remind yourself over and over again. Tingles spark through the tips of your fingers and toes the longer you walk. Somehow the helicopter felt as if it were getting farther the more you walked towards it. Just outside the heli pad your foot falls incorrectly in front of the other and you trip over yourself. Before you fall face first into the snow Ghost grabs you around the waist and leans you against himself. 

“Falling for me again huh love.” Ghost quips. You toss your head into his shoulder and hold onto his bicep. 

“Hurts.” Is all you can squeeze out through your teeth. Ghost looks you up and down and realizes the thin trail of blood that had spotted behind you. Panic shoots through his body as his head whips towards the heli. 

“God damn it, medic!” Ghost screams out. Ghost scoops you into his strong arms bridal style and sprints for the inside of the copter. He holds you against him as a medic climbs aboard. From there you all take off as the medic starts his work. The medic cuts your pant leg from where blood had saturated the cloth. There your wound had turned an ugly mossy color as it actively bled. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Ghost all but yells at you. You head lays limp in his shoulder and you nuzzle into his familiar scent. Home. This feels like home. 

“Didnt. Didn’t need you worrying about me.” You reply to him. Ghost feels the argument brewing in the back of his throat for how irrational you were being. He would have carried you the rest of the way. Hell, he would carry you wherever you asked for as long as you asked. As long as it meant you were okay. But all Ghost does it squeeze you to him tighter as he waits to get back to headquarters. 

—- 

Infirmary - three days later

—-

It had taken several doctors, lots of antibiotics and even more painkillers to get your leg in a better spot. It had gotten terribly infected while on the mission and without proper care, it could have possibly killed you. For the past couple days you stayed on a high dose of pain medications while the doctors would routinely change your dressing or administer antibiotics. Soap, Price and Gaz had visited numerous times since then, Soap offering to play cards or bring you food from off base. Graves spent the most time with you, constantly checking on you. He always was recording you when you would get silly off the pain medications. He had gotten you a ridiculously large stuffed bear with a cast on its legs. You welcomed his comfort and appreciated his company. But there was one man who still hadn’t shown his masked face. Ghost had helped load you into the infirmary but since then he had vanished. You tried to ask Soap about it but all he said was that he was moody. You couldn’t help but worry about him. You knew his mood had to be related to everything that had happened. You just wished he would come speak to you. 

Currently though, Graves was in the midst of telling you a funny story from his latest mission. 

Ghost stalked the door of the infirmary religiously since you had flown back. He spent nearly all his free time here. Watching you, asking about you, waiting to get the nerve to come talk to you. He couldn’t help but blame himself over your injuries. If only he had realized, if only he had thought. Worry and anxiety plagued him unlike what he had experienced before. He had more than his fair share of trips to the infirmary throughout his career in the military. It hadn’t phased him in the slightest and he never worried about the injuries he sustained. He was expendable, and expendable things would get broken. But for the first time he felt true terror walking towards those doors. Ghost didn’t scare easily and never gave off the hint that he was anxious to anyone. So he kept to himself, which came off as more moody to your shared teammates. This effect someone could have on him was something he wished to keep to himself. So he sat alone just outside your room, waiting,. Waiting for something he didn’t quite know what yet. 

He watched you from the window of the door as you continued to laugh at something Graves had said. Your head was thrown back with a wide smile gracing your lips. Your soft (h/c) hair falls over your shoulder gracefully. Ghost could feel anger tingle up his spine and into his brain. He didn’t trust Graves, he didn’t like his cocky know it all attitude. Seeing you two together so comfortably, so happy, made his skin crawl. He catches another glimpse of you both just as Graves takes your hands in his. He had stopped talking, staring up at you instead. Your laugh quiets to giggles as you look to Graves. 

“What? Why are you starin at me?” You ask him. Slowly, Graves slides his hand up your arm and rests it on the back of your neck. Your breath hitches as Graves scoots closer to you. A blush takes over your body and you can only stammer in response. Your eyes widen in surprise as he leans into you.

“Graves what are you-“ you begin but he cuts you off with his lips on your own. He melds your mouth to his own as he entwines his fingers into your hair. 

Ghost had seen enough. Rage boiled in his blood as his entire body tensed. All he could see was red.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The number of confirmed hostages has been updated to 229, after the release of four women.

A rocket directly hit a residential building in Tel Aviv today, four people are reported injured.

I listened to an interview this morning with the commander of the Search & Rescue Unit of the Israeli army (same unit that, as one example out of many, helped detect and save people from the rubble after the earthquake in Turkey), and here are some of the things that he mentioned:

The work to find and identify bodies is still on going. In kibbutz Be'eri, where over 100 bodies had already been found, four more were recovered yesterday. They're scanning every small community to see what they might have missed. In one house they found 19 bodies, but then they realized one girl who lived there was still unaccounted for, so they're sweeping the whole area again.

Some of the bodies are in such an awful state, after being tortured and burned, that they brought in archeologists to help with the work of handling them, of sifting through organic material, and to generally make use of their expertise.

He corroborated that the Hamas terrorists came prepared with the knowledge of things like where security people lived (so the terrorists took them out first, leaving civilians vulnerable to the massacre), where weapons were locked away, as well as how many people and of what ages lived in each house (so if the terrorists got to a family home, and one kid managed to hide, they'd know to look for that child). Hamas terrorists had this info from Gazans who had permits to work in Israel.

Israeli farmers in the northern and southern parts of Israel, which are being constantly targeted by Hezbollah and Hamas (respectively) rockets, continue to work under fire, risking their lives, for fear that Israel might otherwise run out of certain basic foods, such as milk and eggs.

This is Adi Baruch:

When the war broke out, she wasn't called up for reserves duty, but she insisted. She wanted to help. She put on her uniform and was on her way to her army base when she took this selfie. She sent it to her bf of six years, Nevo Yanay. Fifty minutes later, she was killed by a Hamas rocket. Adi's mom recounted that Nevo was planning to ask Adi to marry him on her bday, so he came to the funeral with the ring, feeling that he had to say the words with which he was planning to propose, even if Adi wouldn't get to hear them.

We're getting close to the end of the war's first three weeks, and whenever someone asks me how I am, this vid from NYC mayor Eric Adams is still what echoes in my head more than anything else:

I am not alright. We are not alright. And the way some people talk about the massacre online makes it clear to me, that they don't understand how something broke here, and how deeply it did. There is a sense of life before and after, like nothing will be the same again. Like we will rise, we will heal, we will re-build, but we will never again be the same people we were before. We are not alright, and even as time will pass, there will be some part of us that never will be.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[jeromeswife]

yandere namor x f!reader - one love, two mouths

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: A kingdom destroyed, a heart crushed, and a king full of immeasurable desire.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, kidnapping, mentions of stalking, death

Translations:

in pixamech - my angel

in amado - my beloved

I left my bedroom in the Wakanda palace. Shuri and Queen Romanda took me in after my home, the Alumid Kingdom was attacked in the middle of the night. I remember waking to the attacks and seeing a mysterious figure in the sky. It seemed that he was looking down at me, but I couldn’t see his face nor any distinguishing features in the darkness. Shuri let me know when she came that an attack came on the radar and when they came to investigate me, they found me passed out on the ground with a bracelet adorned with beautiful jewels around my wrist. I really had not many memories of that night besides the destruction of my kingdom and the deaths of my people around me. You see, I was the princess and future heir to the throne. It was something that shook me to my core, but I accepted my place and prepared daily for it, in case something were to happen to my father.

My bare feet walked along the hallways of the palace, stopping in at Shuri’s lab. She turned around and saw me, a smile painting her face, “(Y/N)! Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.. I guess. Still not feeling great after seeing everything I loved lost to an attack.”

A sympathetic expression appeared on her face, seeing me down in the dumps mentally. The memories just couldn’t stop playing in my head. I still wondered what had occurred to make us targeted for such an attack. And I couldn’t ask my father because he died before I even could.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).. I understand that feeling of loss. The lost of my brother is something that still affects me, even after a year later. I miss him so much. I can still feel him all around me, yet I still blame myself for not being able to save him,” Shuri’s hand rubbed my back with comfort. “Don’t go down the path I did. Mourn your loss freely and build up a strong support system. You are welcome to stay here and recover till then.”

Her comforting words made me smile and I looked up at her, giving a soft smile. “Thank you for being there to rescue me.”

I inched my hand towards hers and held it. Shuri made me feel safe, like no one else could hurt me. I still can’t believe I’m still here, and alive today.

“(Y/N), if I may ask, did you see anything that night? Like who destroyed your kingdom?”

I thought back to that night. Since it was close to midnight, it was hard to tell. The only thing I could make out in the darkness was people with blue skin and a mask over their mouths. They speared my people. I couldn’t get the blood curdling screams out of my brain.

“Princess, run! Get out of here!”

The memories of their voices hurt my head. It was like a virus in my body that had no antibiotic. No way to get it out of there. It would be stuck inside there, slowly killing me.

“I only remember.. The blue people with masks over their mouths. They were speaking a language I couldn’t quite understand. And.. the figure in the sky. They looked human, but they couldn’t be. They were flying!”

I saw Shrui’s eyes widen at my words. Something she definitely knew but I had to ask. “Shuri? Do you know what I saw?”

Shuri hesitated. her words stuck in her throat. I didn’t know what was going on inside her head, but I was certain that it wasn’t anything good.

“I don’t know what you saw either..”

I knew she was lying, but I accepted her answer either way. If there was one thing I would never do, it was to force something out of someone. It would be too much..

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was later that night and I decided to leave my room once more, venturing down to a nearby beach on the shores of Wakanda. The only thing that could calm me down was the sound of the crashing waves and the chirps of the crickets that sang in the night.

Looking out at the sea reminded me of how free it was down there. No invasion. No destruction. Just pure peace and tranquility.

I couldn’t ignore that bracelet that adorned my wrist from the moment I awoke after the destruction. My fingers stroked over the jewels and the smooth gold. It was jewels I had never seen before from my kingdom. Rare green colors of emeralds and topaz. It amazed me that I even had it on my body in the first place.

My ears picked up some ripples from the water and I looked at it with curiosity. What emerged from the water was something I least expected. It was a man with brown skin, pointed ears, well trimmed facial hair, and angelic wings on his feet. I couldn’t tell if he was an angel or devil in my eyes.

I scooted back away from the water, my bottom brushing up against the cold sand. He had gotten close to me before placing both feet on the ground, “Up close to you finally, In pixamech “

His language didn’t translate much and my breath caught in my throat. The oxygen refused to come out because I had an odd feeling about him.

“And you are?”

My bracelet around my wrist seemed to grow much tighter as he got closer. A smirk appeared out of the corner of his mouth before he took a deep breath, “K’uk’ulkan, King of Talokan, but my enemies call me Namor. And you are Princess (Y/N) of Alumid.”

My heart sank to my stomach hearing him know who I was. That silhouette came to mind.. Everything about his physical outline matched the person who had looked down upon me as my kingdom was destroyed, left to ruins. It was him!

“..You.. Were you the one who brought destruction upon my kingdom!” The bracelet tightened around my wrist when my fury came out. The reaction came when I leapt towards him. But before I could, the sting of it stopped me.

I couldn’t help but look at Namor’s face. A dark chuckle was let out of his throat at the sight of me not being able to fight back nor take him down.

“And it was so easy to get you out of there.. If I had just came in there and taken you, my people would have been in danger, no? And it’s easier to capture you when you aren’t close to the earth elements, in amado.”

I struggled to even speak and I looked around, trying to find any way to fight him back. As much as I loved the sea, I couldn’t use its elements to defend me. I was useless the way I was now.

A few tears shed down my face as I fell onto my knees, hopeless, “Y-You’re a monster..” Before I knew it, I felt his knuckles wrap around my chin and pull my face towards his, him kneeling down as well.

“You call me a monster, but the real monsters are those you surround yourself with.”

Namor took out a mask and held it over my face while the bracelet began stinging and tightening me even more. Then it was dark.