#collapses on the ground. sorry that took so long LMAO

[callmehere-iwillappear]

npwd ref sheets are FINALLY here!! them <3

read the fic here!

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

[reidmania]

hello!! ok so, i was wondering if i could request a fic that is based around autumn/ october/ halloween because spencer loves spooky season and i fuck with that, anyway, so could you tie that detail into smth kinda like your “everywhere everything” fic fluff wise because i went feral for that one lmao. feel free to ignore if youre not up to it, but i’d love to read what youve got if you do write this. 💙

EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING | spencer reid

part one, part two

summary; spending the week before halloween & going to the pumpkin patch with Spencer in your home town.

warnings; pure love sick fluff, talks about home towns, established relationships, fem reader, halloween, mentions of driving, rushed ending sorry!!

an; i decided to make this request a part two to the everywhere everything fic bc the next verse just fits so well i think?? but it can be read without reading the first part. and that whole song feels like love in autumn!!

im also australian and we dont celebrate halloween like americans do, ive never been to a pumpkin patch so please bare w me during this.

'Drive slowly, I know every route in this county, maybe that ain't such a bad thing I'll tell you where not to speed. It's been a long year and all of our book's pages dog-eared We write out the ends on our palms, dear. Then forget to read, we didn't know that the sun was collapsing 'Til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing. We cried, "Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh" Everywhere, everything, I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat 'Til our fingers decompose Keep my hand in yours'

"Slow down" You huffed out as Spencer turned down a road you knew all to well, it was familiar and came with a sense of home in place. It was the same road you remembered your father being pulled over everytime for speeding, the same road you had been pulled over on when you had first gotten your licence.

Spencer did as you told him, after sitting in the car with you for an hour mumbling about where was and wasn't safe to go a little faster than the speed limit, he knew to listen. This was your home, you knew it better than he would.

He even refrained from correcting some of your 'fun facts' abot your home town. Purely because listening to your excitement while talking about it made his heart too happy to say anything.

"You know we have gone past about three different pumpkin patches on the way" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow softly as his head turned from the road to look at you for a moment before turning back to the road.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile taking place over your lips. “Yes, but, this one’s the best. We are literally two minutes away. Please don’t complain.” You muttered with a smile.

The air between the two of you was warm. It lingered with peace and quiet love, the sort that didn’t need to be shouted from a roof top because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s hands reached to grab yours, the way his eyes danced between you and the road, the way the music playing was what you enjoyed rather than the normal radio he would let play in the background.

It didn’t need to be shouted because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s face lit up when he parked the car and looked out the window, the way he turned back to you with just about the widest grin you think ever possible, the way he leant in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead before he got out, walking around the car to open the door for you.

“Pretty right?” You grinned up at him as his eyes took over the scene, the leaves that covered the ground around your feet all the prettiest shades of orange and yellow, the scent of cinnamon filling the air around you, as patches and patches of pumpkins laid in front of you, all surrounded by a brown picket fence.

He just placed another kiss on your the top of your head, clasping his hand with yours, fingers interlinked between one another. The smile on his face and look in his eyes said more about his excitement than words possibly good — so you didn’t mind the lack of response as you began walking towards the patches.

“I wanna find the biggest one.” You mumbled out, looking around the large patches. There was families, friends, other couples surrounding you but your focus was on nothing but Spencer, and finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

Spencer snorted as he looked up at from patches, to look at you. He took in how you looked curled into one of his knitted sweaters, arms wrapped around your torso in order to shield you from the autumn breeze.

“I think that kid just took the biggest one”

You furrowed your eyebrows and spun your body to look behind you to where a kid was walking — To be fair the pumpkin his dad was holding was pretty big, but the smile on the kids face when he jumped around holding hands with his mum made you not mind so much.

“Well.. I’ll get the second biggest” You settled. Spencer smiled as he shook his head, tugging you slightly closer by your hand to pull you into his chest. His hand left yours as his arms came to rest around your waist.

You laughed, as your hands came up to his upper back and the back of his head gently. The two of you swayed side to side for a moment. “Happy?” You asked, silly question. You could feel it radiating off of him.

He pulled his head away to press his forehead against yours, his nose knocking yours lightly as he scrunched up his face for a moment, before pulling back to look down at your face. His lip quipped up into a soft smile. “Very.”

You lean back, his hands moving to hold onto your hips as his thumb slipped up under your sweater, his sweater. His thumb ran small circles over the skin in place. Your smile widened, heart exploding as your skin burnt under the cold of his fingertips.

“Come on, I want to find the perfect pumpkin. We should have a pumpkin carving competition this year, that would be so much fun” You rambled as you pulled away from his touch to walk around the lines and lines of pumpkins.

He laughed, “We should.” He agreed softly, because why would he ever deny you what you wanted, especially something to do with halloween.

He watched as you bent down to run your fingertips run gently along one of the pumpkins in the row: It was a decent size and probably would be simply to carve since he knew your mind was now hyper-fixated on the idea of pumpkin carving instead of finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

“Actually- Did you know each year 150 million dollars is made from pumpkins, and 98 percent of that is from people who purchase them to make jack-o’-lanterns, and 46% of amercia—”

“How many is that?” You cut off as you look up at him from where you were leant down to look at the pumpkins. He smiled.

“A hundred and fifty four million” He answered without even having to think about it. It never failed to stun you. You hummed allowing him to continue on telling you his facts.

“So 46 percent — Or A hundred and fifty four million people, in America make jack-o-lanterns every year. During Halloween the most reason for injury is actually because of pumpkin carving.” He stated.

You stood up, a soft smile on your face as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Well maybe people should be more careful. I’ve never gotten an injury while carving a pumpkin” You hummed out.

He snorted, taking your hand gently. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

You gasped, “Yes- Actually!! I have.” You said, your voice an octave higher than normally. He smiled, nodding his head in disbelief which only caused you to shake your own.

The rest of the day consisted of you and Spencer walking around the pumpkin patch, making jokes and laughing with one another, you even tried a pumpkin, cinnamon cookie from a stand nearby.. Safe to say you weren’t too fond of it.

But you were fond of the way Spencer’s eyes shone in a different sort of way when the two of you finally picked out a pumpkin each, the way his mood seemed unwavering during the fall season.

You loved him, and you loved halloween.

[freakyformula]

Pretty like the sun part 4 (last part)

Summary: Reader is a huge Lewis fan and is attending her first race in her life with her brother. She catches Lewis eye and he instantly falls for her.

Writers comment: Ugh sorry for making it so long I'm incapable of making short fics lmao

Warnings: Reader is referred to as she/her, reader has a brother, age gap but readers age is not specified.

Word count: 4,4k

Y/N= Your Name and Y/N/B= Your Name's Brother

Sunday

Y/N POV

Race day. Damn it. She was not ready for this, or what was going to happen after. While the race was one thing, the promised date was a completely different thing. She was unsure about how she would survive. Lewis made her feel more at ease and she knew he wouldn't force her to do anything against her will, but she was still concerned. Standing in the bathroom, she looked into the mirror, feeling as though her head would explode from overthinking. This kind of thinking was definitely not healthy for her. She didn't go on dates; in fact, she had never gone on a formal date. She had never experienced any of this before. Was it appropriate for her to admit her inexperience to Lewis, or had he already figured out that important detail on his own?

She took a few deep breaths and grounded herself, clinging desperately to the counter.

"Think positive…" She whispered to herself.

She slowly collapsed down on the bathroom floor, sitting with her back against the counter. She concealed her face in her arms and sniffled. She had fantasies about this before she came here, and this is all she really wanted. She had no idea Lewis would take such an interest in her, despite the fact that he had only made her happy and treated her with respect.

She finally got her thoughts into control and looked up with a determined look on her face.

"Don't be a coward," she thinks.

After a much needed shower and the obligatory morning routine, her makeup was next in line. She did a natural look, with a light base, some brow gel, and mascara. She finished her look off with curling her hair, keeping it down.

Usually her outfit is based on what she likes and what she feels comfortable in, but today, she has Lewis in mind as the outfit comes together, choosing between a black strappy backless dress, thinking it'd be fitting as it was already warm. Her second option was an off-white day dress with black dots. The latter is more fitting as it's more flowy and accentuates her curves perfectly. "Lewis will love this", She thinks. Paired with black heels and golden accessories, she feels ready for the day.

Her brother asks for fashion advice, him too wanting to look his best. They pair together a pair of dark beige trousers and a greige (grey/beige) linen button-up shirt. Together they stroll down to the morning meal buffet, they were late this day, being the last visitors to show up.

"Who are you betting on today?" He starts.

"I'm hoping for a Lewis win, but with him starting at P11, I think it's unlikely. My bet is on Lando or Max. Even an Oscar win is possible, the Mclarens are on fire. You?

"My bet is on any of the Red Bulls. A Daniel win would be sweet but that's just wishful thinking. Seeing Max win would be sweet, we haven't heard the Dutch anthem for a while." He giggles and continues eating his breakfast. The siblings had a habit of betting on who would win, they thought it added further excitement to the already thrilling sport.

"Nervous about the date later? I'd be shitting myself."

"Are you kidding me, just thinking about it makes my pulse pick up the pace." She replies.

"You'll be fine, both you and Lewis are cool. Besides, it seems like you've become good friends." Her brother says, giving her a playful wink.

"Shut up." She mutters and smiles down at her plate.

As they get into the paddock for the last and most significant day, they notice how people are looking their way, and paparazzi follow them snapping pictures of the duo. They look at each other, confused. As they get to the Mercedes garage they're greeted by HR. The lady introduces herself as Anne.

"Y/N, have you seen the news? Pictures of you and Lewis have leaked, you two looked quite personal at a club last night." Anne says sternly. "I've already notified Lewis and done some damage control, but I need you to know that things like this are strictly forbidden from now on."

She gasps and feels like eyes watering. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, Anne, I simply didn't know!" Her people-pleasing self starts. "It will never happen again."

"No worries, Y/N. I'm just letting you know." Anne concludes and turns her heel.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" She whispers to herself as her brother tries to cheer her up.

"Fuck the media. They have no business inserting themselves in your and Lewis's business." He mutters.

She sits down on the nearest chair she can find and buries her face in her hands, holding back her tears. This feels like the end, she will never recover from this. Her brother rubs her back to soothe her. All of a sudden, she hears a familiar voice.

"Y/N?" Lewis looks at her with a slightly troubled smile.

"Lewis! I'm so sorry." She runs up to him and looks him straight in the eyes.

He laughs and raises his eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

"I thought Anne told you about the news?"

"Oh… that, it's pretty much sorted already, nothing to worry about, Y/N. Also… you look beautiful today." He says as he pulls her into a hug. As they part, he quickly leans down and places a feather-light kiss on her forehead.

She instantly blushes, turning into the timid version that Lewis met only a couple of days ago.

"Excited for today?" Lewis asks her.

"I am, are you?"

"I'm looking forward to tonight." He admits and touches her hand, taking her hand into his. "Also, I have someone who would like to meet you." And as Lewis says that a panting Roscoe comes running up to them.

"Oh my god aren't you the sweetest boy! Hi Roscoe, I'm Y/N." You tell the dog.

As you look up, you see a man, looking like an older version of Lewis. "Y/N, meet Anthony, my dad. Dad, meet Y/N. We're good friends, right?" Lewis asks her.

She nods and gives the older man a handshake, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Anthony."

"Likewise, Y/N." Anthony smiles at her with the same smile as Lewis. Lewis has clearly inherited his dad's eyes. Their eyes have that certain spark.

"Okay, time for Lewis to get ready. Hi, Y/N!" Angela says and separates the two, leaving the siblings alone to do whatever they want. They walked around in the paddock, checking out the cars and took hundreds of photos of themselves, the buildings, the cars, the people. The vibes couldn't be described even if she tried to. She was in her favourite place, and she could stay here forever.

"You know, I could get used to this." She admits to her brother.

"So could I, I love it here. Please, let's come here next year too." Her brother says.

"I was thinking more like the next race…" She frowns.

They laugh as they continue their promenade through the paddock. The wait for the race to start felt long, and they decided to go back to the Mercedes garage. Her brother wanted to follow the engineers and mechanics doing the final changes to the car.

You follow their precise work for a while but soon grow bored. She decides to go looking for someone to disturb. She walks around, finding her way to the offices, meeting rooms and driver rooms. She knocks on Lewis's door and waits for an answer. She hears a bark and a shush. It only takes a couple of seconds until Lewis swings open the door, lighting up when he sees her.

"Y/N, I was gonna come searching for you when I was done eating. I'm having my last meal before the race." He gently drags her in and sits her down on the sofa. "So, did you have something on your mind or did you just want to meet me?" He smirks at her.

"I was walking around, looking for someone to mess with and I happened to walk past your door…" She replies.

"Someone to mess with, and I'm your victim?" He tuts at her and continues, "What are you going to do to me, Y/N?"

"I haven't decided yet, but I was thinking about snatching you away." She admits her plans to him.

Lewis looks at her for a while, his face looking alarmingly blank. After what felt like minutes, he gets up and walks over to her. He bends down and lifts her up, holding her steady against him. "I'd follow you without even thinking. You're driving me crazy, Y/N."

He lets her go and backs off, needing a minute to calm down. He sits down and finishes his meal.

This feeling is new, she's never felt this way towards anyone before. As he held her, she felt herself getting turned on and felt the wetness between her legs. She needs to excuse herself to collect herself. "I'll go down and wait for you." She says before she puts her hand on her door handle.

Lewis POV

"I'll be right down." He says and continues focusing on his breathing to fight off his growing erection. Fuck, this was certainly not ideal, but the breathing seemed to work as he felt himself calming down. This was ridiculous, he felt like 14 years old again, getting hard whenever a girl even looked his way. Roscoe was staring at his owner, probably wondering what was going on.

"Don't look at me like that." He orders his dog.

He knew he was expected down at the garage when he heard a knock on his door.

"Hi, I'm Y/N" he heard as she ran into Carmen, meeting and talking to her for the first time. He's called to a short meeting with George, Toto and the engineers for a final briefing. The strategists were hoping for a 2 stop race. She's still talking to Carmen as they conclude the meeting and get ready to jump into the cars. He walks over to the younger girls and she looks at him with anticipation in her eyes.

"Good luck hug?" She says as she skips into his arms.

Carmen giggles and walks over to George, giving him the same treatment.

Lewis is almost certain that the whole Mercedes crew has caught on already. Even if they're still friends, they sure as hell don't act that way. He hugs her a little tighter, pulls away and takes her hand, giving it a peck. And with that, he walks to his car, pulls his balaclava and helmet on and gets in.

Y/N POV

She finds her brother and pulls him to their seats that Toto gave them on Friday. They put their headphones on and start following the F1 pre-race show on one of the screens. The nerves are through the roof, and yet, she's not the one in the car, risking her life. The rumble from the cars is heard through the headphones. It subsides as the cars are released and line up for the formation lap. Anthony is seated close-by and gives her a reassuring look, knowing his son is able to pull off miracles.

"Lewis and George are close to each other, maybe they can cooperate their way to the front?" She comments to her brother.

Bam, formation lap. She's sweaty all over. As the cars get to the start she feels herself getting dizzy. Green flag. She hears and sees the red lights go off.

"And the British Grand Prix is underway!!" The commentator, Ben Edwards, yells.

Lewis has a decent start, passing Alonso in the first corner. He manages to keep him behind, even easing away from the cars behind him, creeping closer to Hulkenberg and Tsunoda. At Copse, he makes a clean pass on the outside and manages to pass them both, ending up at 8th place, with George behind him.

"Both of the Mercedes are having an excellent race so far!" She hears the commentators discuss the possibility of Mercedes fighting their way to the podium.

Lewis is doing such a good job, keeping a good pace, and catching up to the Ferraris. On the Hamilton straight, he manages to push past Leclerc and immediately regrets his decision. He's sandwiched between the two scarlet cars. Luckily, Sainz is called in for a pitstop.

She looks at the timestamps, he is 7 seconds behind Norris, the leader.

"Ooooh, Lewis Hamilton locks up at the Luffield corner!" The commentator yells as the others in the commentary box scream in despair.

Leclerc makes the pass and Lewis goes back to P7.

"Damn…" She mutters.

"Fuck, well, it's early, he still has time to recover." Her brother swears.

One after one, the drivers are called for a pitstop. Lewis's first pit stop was quick, thankfully. He ends up after Verstappen, who is yet to pit. Both siblings watch the race chewing their nails with nervosity. "Hamilton runs wide, and clears Leclerc out of the way!" Ben announces.

Roscoe gives your leg a lick, making you aware of his presence. You give him a good head rub. "Roscoe, get back here!" She hears Anthony call the bulldog back. As he looks her way, he gives her a kind smile and thumbs up. She responds with the same gesture.

"Unbelievable! Hamilton passes both Magnussen and Ricciardo! Fantastic stuff by Hamilton!" The commentators chant.

At lap 38 out of 52, the pressure to advance was high. Both Mercedes drivers had caught up to the leading cars, Norris in the lead, Piastri second, Verstappen third, Sainz fourth, Perez fifth and Stroll in sixth place.

As Stroll and Perez are called into the pits Lewis makes it to P4 with Russell in close pursuit.

"The Mercedes drivers are on a streak! Lewis has gained 7 positions, starting at P11 and now racing with the lead!" She jumps up and down in her chair when she hears and sees how the race is unfolding. Lewis, Verstappen and Piastri are called into the pits. Verstappen has a slow pit stop and ends up behind Sainz when he rejoins. Lewis on the other hand, has a smooth pit stop, having changed into medium tyres.

She can hear Bono encourage Lewis over the team radio.

"P3, Lewis! P3! Keep it up." Bono tells his driver.

He's now stuck behind the two McLarens, and George pushing him from behind.

With some teamwork, Lewis and George get past Piastri, meaning they've worked themselves to the podium.

She can hear the crowd outside. She wanted to scream as high as them, this was surreal, her favourite driver on the podium on her first-ever race weekend.

"It's looking like a three Brit podium at the British Grand Prix this year!!" David Coulthard comments in the speakers. That makes the crowd go ballistic. She's sure the drivers can hear them as they pass by.

Lap 50 of 52. Time is running out and Lewis is right behind Norris, he's just waiting for a good opportunity to pass. The pressure is on, Lewis last had a win a long time ago, with Verstappen being as dominant as he is and Lewis having a bad car. He makes a last leap and tries to make a pass at Stowe but fails. One lap left. He tries again at the Wellington straight and takes the inside line at Brooklands. And as if by a supernatural phenomenon, he gets past.

"Hamilton! Hamilton passes the McLaren! How did he do that?!" Ben screams.

"This is Formula One! This is what it's all about! Motivation, initiative, diligence!" Coulthard comments. "Lewis Hamilton wins the British Grand Prix, taking his 104th victory in his career!" he continues.

Unfortunately, George didn't have enough to make a pass on Norris and finished third. But he seemed happy anyway, warmly congratulation Lewis on the radio.

The whole Mercedes garage is heard all the way to the grandstands, she's speculating. The crew, Anthony, Toto, and the siblings watch as Lewis passes the chequered flag. People are embracing each other, applauding, and hollering. She was certain she saw one of the mechanics crying too.

Anthony, Lewis's dad, runs out of the garage with the siblings not far behind to get a brief look at the winner. When he make it to the pits he runs straight to his dad for a tight hug. Lewis was emotional, really emotional. He'd struggled with the car for a year now and finally it reoccurred. He finished his post-race interview and made it to her, giving her the tightest hug she'd at any point gotten.

"This victory is for you, Y/N. I did it for you."

He rushes to the podium and the cooling room. They walk near Anthony and Roscoe, finding the more seasoned visitors presence calming, hesitant to stroll in the way or disturb the broadcast.

"What a race, huh?" She strikes up a conversation with Anthony.

"We rarely see such a Grand Prix, this is your first time, right? You chose one hell of a weekend, Y/N!"

She is conversing with Toto and the rest of the team while they wait for the three drivers to appear on the podium. His happy tears can be seen all the way down to the ground where she is standing as he appears. He looks like a god, standing on the highest step on the podium. The British national anthem starts playing and the team and her sing along. That moment would be forever stuck in her memories. They watch Lewis and George raise their trophies and they hear as the crowd roar and chant.

When the champagne celebration is done she and her brother and the team walk back to the garage to wait for the winner. She retreats to Lewis's drivers room to wait for the winner with Roscoe. They both lie down on the sofa for a nap. She quickly stands up and looks him in the eye as soon as she hears the door open. The most joyful man she's ever seen shows up. His eyes are red from all the tears, and his smile is the widest she has ever encountered. They just stare at each other for a while before Lewis opens his arms for her to jump in. She does, and he picks her into his arms.

"Well done, champ." She starts. "You did so well, and I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad I came here." And without thinking about her actions she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

He turns to face her and smiles inconceivably wider. He lets her down and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"God, I really want to kiss you right now."

"So do it." She says. Where her confidence came from, she doesn't know but him kissing her right there only felt right.

They're so close she feels his breath tickle her face.

"Not here. I want this moment to be truly special." He says. "Will you promise me a kiss later?"

"Consider it a deal." She says without hesitation.

"I really need a shower." He says, touching his sweaty, champagne drenched braids.

They agree to go back to their hotels to freshen up. Lewis drives her back to her hotel and tells her to be ready in an hour.

"Where are we going? What should I wear?" She asks.

"Wear something cute, nothing too fancy." Lewis simply responds and helps her out and into the lobby.

As she unlocks the door, her brother is already there, looking at her with a clever look.

"Let me guess, freshening up for the date?" He asks and she answers by nodding.

"By the way, do you need condoms by any chance? I think I have some in my suitcase." He asks.

"What the actual fuck Y/N/B?! You sick bastard!" She concludes. The cold water against her skin felt so good. Today had been so warm and the sun was extreme. Luckily, the sun seemed to subside in due time for their date. She quickly did a shave and moisturized herself. Now, what was she going to wear? What counts as "not too fancy"? She found a pair of white jean shorts and a thick grey knitted cardigan. He literally said not fancy, and she will be a good girl and oblige.

She did her hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup, she couldn't be arsed to put much effort into her looks, he had already seen her good side earlier.

She went down to wait for him, but to her surprise, he was already waiting in the lounge.

He was dressed in a pair of jeans with a simple sweatshirt, looking rather ordinary contrary to his usual outfits.

"You're so beautiful, Angel." His use of the pet name makes her heart do a flip, surely not for the first time tonight.

"So do you, Lewis." She says loud enough for only him to hear. He leads her out and they start the ride to the destination.

"Tell me, Lewis, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. But trust me, it's not far." He answers.

She got more confused as the road got thinner and more isolated, and then it turned to gravel. All of a sudden, they came to a stop. He opened the trunk of his car and took out a picnic basket, filled with food and an array of drinks.

"Come here, follow me." He says and takes her hand and the basket in the other hand.

She sees Lewis studying her, "Please Y/N, don't be scared." He reassures her with a hand squeeze. He's so attentive. The frown on her face must have lead him to believe she was scared. She admittedly was, but she wasn't afraid of him, but more of the unfamiliar circumstances.

They walk through a meadow and come to a halt at a little lake. "Is that…" She starts. He'd made a small spot for them to sit on under two willows. The spot was lit up with small light bulb strings hanging above the pillows and blankets we'd set out on the grass. "I'm speechless, Lewis, this is too much."

"Nonsense, I want to give you the world." Lewis counters.

They sit down and take a moment to take in the view and enjoy each other's company.

"Here, take what you like." He says and reaches the basket over. She opens a cherry cola and takes a few sips, enjoying the freshness of the drink.

Lewis had brought a small portable speaker in order for them to play music. "I've made a playlist for this occasion." He admits and puts it on. It was a true mix of different songs, and she had to admit, Lewis had immaculate taste in music.

They eat the contents of the basket, and start to hum along to the music.

She catches Lewis looking at her with blown eyes. "Goddamn, not only are you incredibly beautiful, you have the voice of an angel too." He says. She looks away and he gently grabs her chin, turning her head back. "Dance with me?" He practically begs.

He helps her up and they start dancing, cheek to cheek. She looks up at him and he looks down at her. The tension is palpable, and her heart is pumping at an incredible rate.

Lewis POV

This was it, he was about to kiss the girl of his dreams.

One Love by Bob Marley comes on and he takes that as a sign.

"Y/N, may I kiss you?" He asks, hoping she hasn't changed her mind.

"Y-yes you may." She replies and that's all he needs to hear.

He carefully grabs her cheek and leans in, she slightly flinches away, but Lewis finds her lips anyway.

Their first kiss is unlike he'd ever experienced before, it's like fireworks are going off around them. She's the one that pulls off, looking at him with those stunning eyes of hers.

Before he even has time to react, she initiates another kiss which quickly deepens. It's so heated that he feels himself getting excited just like earlier. He has to pull off and take a break, even if parting from her satin lips feels like agony.

He sits down and drags her down with him. He places her with her back to his front, her sitting between his legs. He keeps kissing the top of her head, their height difference evident.

"I feel… Awakened. Thank you for this." She says softly.

"I really like you Y/N, I'm sorry for asking so soon but will you do this with me again?"

She turns around and looks him directly in the eyes.

"Of course, Lewis, of course I will!" She almost jumps up and turns around to properly see him.

The kiss that follows is heated and Lewis lets himself fall backwards, ready for more. That proves to be too much for her and she pulls off. Instantly, she goes back to the timid, innocent girl she used to be.

"I can't." She blurts out, looking scared of how Lewis will react.

Thankfully, she had nothing to worry about.

"I will never do anything to you that you haven't consented to, Y/N." He reassures her. "I'm perfectly happy with only kissing you, I'm happy you were brave enough to tell me you were uncomfortable." He says as he kisses her on her nose.

She looks completely dumbfounded, not quite understanding that she can say no without the other person taking offense.

He starts placing kisses all over her face to lighten the mood. As a response, she starts laughing hysterically and struggles to get away from the treatment.

They spend the rest of the night just talking and making out in between.

"So, when is the next date…?" She languidly asks her lover.

Tagged: @lh44girl

[captain039]

PART 10 Intertwined with a mortal (LAST PART)

Ascended Vampire Duke!Astarion x human!reader

Slight alpha Duke!Wyll x reader

Bridgerton x Astarion 👍🏻

Warnings: Olden times, swearing, age gap, tension, slow burn, vampire Mates, vampire things, angst, sexual, harassment, bigger reader, fat shaming, 18+, angst, Astarions trauma, anxiety, depression, learning to touch and love, big dislike for children lmao, AOB, artist reader, manipulation, jealousy, feelings, self harming (hitting), emotional break down

Previous part <-

Your father and mother stood by the entrance way to the dining table while you held the duke. Your mother glanced to your father worried while your father kind of just stared.

“Seems you two need a long talk, come love” your father said urging your mother back into the dining room.

“Astarion” you muttered softly as the elf stood straighter glancing around. The servants were avoiding looking, but they’d seen everything. You saw a broken man in front of you, his cheeks stained with tears.

“Apologies my lady” he said straightening himself up his walls coming back up.

“There’s no issues my duke” you assured, but he shook his head.

“This was a shameful act-“ you sighed as he began and he frowned.

“Shameful would be not showing your emotions” you cut in and he stuttered slightly.

“I cannot argue with you” he said and you smiled slightly.

“Good” you teased lightly seeing the smirk that graced his lips.

“I suggest you head back home for now, rest and tomorrow we shall talk ok?” You said and the vampire nodded.

“No midnight visits!” You hissed softly so only he could hear and he grinned making you slap his arm lightly.

“I’m sorry again Milady, I shall see you tomorrow” he held your hand and pressed it against his lips before leaving. You sighed a little loudly and saw your parents come back out. You didn’t want to talk, not right now.

“The duke will return tomorrow for a proper talk, I suggested he go home and calm himself before tomorrow” you nodded and your mother nodded back. You began to go up the stairs your mother stuttering before she silenced and let you leave.

You collapsed on your bed your tears rolling free at the amount of emotions you held in gods what a mess.

When morn came you waited in the dining room, dressed nicely, hair done. There was a party tonight as well, gods you didn’t want to go, but it was expected of you. You’re sure you’d get talked about, your disappearing, the dukes visiting and going. A knock came and your mum and dad stood while you stayed seated suddenly immobile. Your heart pounded and you stared at your hands in your lap, nervously picking at your nails. You sensed him before he walked through the door, red eyes finding yours instantly. You stood up quickly, a little too quickly, you almost fell back down.

“Milady” the duke nodded.

“Duke Ancunin” you bowed your head slightly offering the spot beside you as you sat again. Your parents sat by the fire place while you sat in the other end of the room. You didn’t know what to say, heart pounding in your chest and ears. A hand held yours suddenly and you stuttered in confusion as the duke took your hand into his lap instead.

“You’ll hurt your delicate hands” he said running his thumb over your fingers gently. You felt your cheeks go hot as he continued to hold your hand, staring at it.

“I believe apologies are in order” you said suddenly and his eyes met yours.

“It was most improper and unlady like of me to yell and turn you down” what the hell were you saying? The duke stared at you with a frown as you took your hand away.

“There is a party tonight I expect you will be there to dance?” You said as continued to stare confused.

“Good” you stood brushing your dress off.

“Tonight then” you said bowing your head as he stood also, but you were already gone. Your whole body trembled and your mind screamed at you as you made it to your room and closed the door. You collapsed to the ground crying again as you smacked your forehead. You winced quickly rubbing the spot before you heard your parents knock and call. You shook your head keeping your back against the door before the left. You cursed yourself continuing to softly bang your hand against your head. You gasped though when hands took your wrists and pulled them away from your head.

“I don’t appreciate my mate hurting herself” the duke muttered and you glared but it left quickly. You struggled in his hold before he tugged you to him knocking you both over, you lying atop him.

“No- no” Astarion forced you to lay there and you have in quickly, your tears staining his tailored coat. You laid there for a while, your breathing evening out, your mind going numb. The dukes hand rubbed the back of your neck gently something commonly done to calm omegas.

Astarion had been utterly confused by your lack of wanting to speak and your apology. You had glazed over, avoided your feelings and he didn’t know why. He’d been the one to do it to, but seeing you do it? His dead heart was stabbed again. When you bid him farewell and left he left also, only with the intent to appear in your room which he did. He felt your emotions strongly the moment he got into the carriage, he told the driver to head home while he entered the mist and went into your room. You were on the floor shaking and crying softly hitting yourself, gods.

He felt what you felt strongly, he was just unsure what brought it on, why you were doing this. When you both ended up on the ground his body gladly accepted the weight of you on him, his body hummed. You however were intent on getting up, but he forced you to lay there, hand on the back of your neck massaging. You calmed down, your heart slowed and your scent returned to normal despite the blandness it held.

“We need to talk” he began and felt you sag.

“Course” you mumbled.

“What happened?” He asked and you tensed briefly.

“It’s too much” you whispered and he felt his heart clench again.

“I don’t know what I’m doing” you added and his free arm twitched to hold you.

“Gods I’m stupid” you whispered.

“You are not” he fought, before regretting his tone. He’d put this on you, his little mate. You laid their body basking in being in contact with him. You prayed your parents wouldn’t walk in other wise you would have to marry him. What happened to you? You don’t even know, you felt some overwhelmed the moment he came in and then nothing. Your mate had been through so much more, being a vampire, he didn’t know his family, who knows what troubles he’s faced and here you were breaking down because you couldn’t handle your feelings. You glanced to his free arm lying beside you, gods you were probably squishing him. You tried to will your body up, you felt numb though. You forced it though, forced yourself up and off him. He sat up also frowning slightly as you quickly looked away.

“I don’t know what came over me” you muttered biting your inner cheek.

“You’re overwhelmed, love” he said softly the name rolling off his tongue.

“Overwhelmed? By what? Finally finding my mate?” You scoffed angered with yourself.

“You’ve been through far worse, I can’t imagine what, you said you didn’t even know your family and here I-“ he cut you off.

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve been through, I’ve been here far longer, I know how to handle things” he said.

“You shouldn’t have too!” You fought and he blinked in surprise.

“You should be weeping, angry I don’t know!” You struggled for breath again as you tried to calm your heart.

“Here I am a stupid fat omega girl, fated to a beautiful duke” you muttered those words, but he heard them.

“Come off it, don’t ever talk about yourself like that again” he said voice deadly serious it made you tense.

“You are the beautiful creature I’ve laid eyes on in my two centuries, if I could see myself I wouldn’t compare” he said and you felt your heart warm despite his light joke at the end.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either” you said sighing again and sagging.

“Then we’ll figure it out together” he said a smile gracing his lips.

[poisonioushearts]

Hi! So sorry about your request just disappearing, that really sucks ): But from the description you gave, I think I'm the one who requested-

So Yamato ends up gaining a huge crush/falling in love with a very powerful esper, and he's absolutely in love with her (or them, if the fic ends up being gender neutral). And at first, his love interest/reader isn't interested in him at all because they've heard of him and all of the awful things he's done, but as Yamato continues to approach reader and be more genuine and honest with her as time goes on, she eventually returns his feelings and they get together (bonus if reader saves him from a battle and carries him in her arms to safety)🤭

Sorry if this was too long or weird, feel free to change things as you see fit!

THANK YOU

I went with a fic/hc mix type of 'writing style', idk lmao I just went with it.

Yeah...it's been a while. Hi.

Apologies school has been overwhelming.

Reader's powers are loosely based off of Kiana from Honkai.

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: mentions of possessive behavior, the end is the beginning of Yamato being a little sh!t lmao, not proofread, probably grammatical errors

Synopsis: As stated in the request

The Beauty in Power

He first saw you when he was at his lowest. Physically that is.

Wandering after you had completed a day-mission, you were tired. Not exhausted, just tired. Which was normal.

You lifted yourself over a particularly large rock that blocked your path and you slid down it with ease.

You had entered the rocky plains.

One of the places that were greatly affected by the miracle. Thing is, this place was never inhabited by a city, village, or town. Before the miracle came the place was already prone to earthquakes and bloodthirsty creatures that didn't have a name along with miramon.

There wasn't a single flower, weed, tree, or anything of the sort. It was just...rock. Everywhere.

So it would be an understatement to say you were expecting you'd be attacked. You didn't even flinch as a hoard of miramon burst through the rubble up ahead and began to speed towards you with a deafening roar.

Your gaze adjusted and you realized that they weren't going towards you, but a figure further ahead.

They were collapsed on the ground, seemingly passed out or asleep.

You concluded that something happened that'd cause them to be knocked out-because even you wouldn't nap in this location.

It's not even comfortable.

You took off in a sprint, leaping over the person's body with one hand raised up, dark purple void circles forming. When your feet hit the ground, you slammed your hand down and spikes were shot at the miramon.

Brushing hair out of your eyes you raised your hand, cubes of red and black forming beside the recovering herd.

Then you snapped your fingers. Instantly the cubes smashed together, the miramon in-between. They twisted around each other while you raised your other hand causing invisible swords to slash the cubes.

Effectively killing the entire herd.

You see, the person you just saved was a certain red-head manipulator...and he was awake the entire time.

He fell head over heals. Metaphorically at least since he was still on the ground fatality injured.

You were powerful. The aura around you was so strong he could almost see it.

But even this aura of power didn't compete with your beauty.

The way you fought was so simple and elegant. The way you turned and crouched beside him, eyes worriedly looking into his own.

The sun was setting behind you, causing a halo to glow around your head.

You were so ethereal -and if this is how he was going to die? Fuck yeah.

He passed out (lmao).

You recognized his face, but couldn't recall his name even though you got bad vibes. Nonetheless, when he lost consciousness, you quickly picked him up in your arms (whether easily or with struggle) you brought him to the nearest infirmary in a town a few (okay a lot) miles off from where you were.

The doctors told you that a lethal poison was injected into his body, and that if you hadn't saved him, well, he'd be dead. Like, non-revivable dead.

When he woke up, he asked to see you. Hoping that you weren't just a figment of his imagination due to the poison in his body.

Boy...

He was ecstatic when he saw you. Just as wonderful as you were when he passed out.

He grinned and introduced himself, holding out a hand to shake.

You cocked an eyebrow at the name, finally realizing who he was but in politeness introduced yourself as well.

You had not heard very much good about him in your life of work. And you weren't even part of an organization! You were, in fact, a wanderer.

So of course you'd be skeptical of Yamato! Not only does he give off a dangerous and mysterious aura, but you've heard of the things he's done.

So when he looks at you and gives you a small smile, you would've never expected for the words to come out would be: "Are you a god(ess)? I'd love to worship you."

Baffled, you tried to hide the fact that you were speechless. So you eyed the doctor in the corner of the room and asked, "Did he hit his head too?"

Even with this odd behavior you endured it and visited him throughout his short recovery period.

Sure he wasn't a good person but that did not mean you didn't care about his well-being.

Something he teased you about profusely.

Even after he was released and you two parted ways, you both still ended up running into each other.

Fate or coincidence?

It was Yamato.

An unlikely friendship formed because even after being still wary of his checkered past (and probably even present) you still found comfort in his company and his flirting that gradually got cheesier and cheesier.

He was so smitten he didn't even feel obsession or anything of the sort. He was just that in love that people would've believed he was someone else entirely.

As time went on he began to love who you were and not just your power or what you looked like.

He realized this as you both were stargazing on a cliff that was covered in beautiful white flowers that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

You were both staring up at the sky, or more like, you were looking up. He was looking at you.

You smiled and pointed out the constellations you knew, and as he listened to the sound of your voice that lured him in like a siren's song it became as clear as a bright blue cloudless sky.

You were perfect.

You were stunning. Whether you met the beauty standards or not. Every part of you he loved. Any 'flaws' (acne, scars, etc.) you had he adored.

Your personality he loved even more.

The mistakes you made? What mistakes?

Your laugh, your walk, your comments, your voice, just...everything.

You may not be perfect to someone else, but to him, you were beyond that.

At that moment, he wanted to kiss you. But he didn't. Oh, how he wished he did.

When you found out one day that he defended you when people at his work were talking shit about you for whatever reason-something clicked. He truly did care for you.

And as you gazed into those flirtatious dark eyes, you knew that his love for you was so real and genuine that you started to accept the love for him that had been festering in the pit of your stomach for a while now. That feeling that you were pushing away-was now beginning to fight back.

So you concluded that'd you share your feelings...soon.

However, for him, it was beginning to be a different story.

These feelings of genuine love and affection began to slowly evolve into something more sinister.

Possessiveness, and even yandere like behavior.

You were so powerful. He needs you. He needs your power. He needs your love. He needs you to look at him like he's the only one in the world.

And he will do just that if he needs to. All the while keeping up a facade. Something he's become quite the master at.

Because...it's all worth it if it's all for you.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[rosenallies]

hii hellooo

Can you do 1. on the h/c prompt list for sashnarcia? (if you still write that since marcia just got engaged), (also kinda have a lil idea, what if you put in a lil snippet of Marcia cutting their own hair until this scene happens? No need to add this tho, ur choice bae !! <3)

-🦴💫

I’m writing again yay<3 kind of <3 also ty for this v specific prompt, I love a specific prompt when I’m in a bad headspace bc I can just write without having to think of plot and whatever lmao

Tw/mentions of gender dysphoria

1. “What’s wrong?” “It hurts.” “What does?” “Everything.”

——

Anetra looked up at Sasha from her magazine, the quiet room suddenly suspicious to her.

“Sash, Marcia said they went up to shower, right?”

“Yeah, why? At least I think that’s what they said,” she shrugged, engrossed in a game of candy crush on her phone.

“But listen-“ Anetra paused, leaving the room silent.

“I don’t hear anyth- oh. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

For as long as they’d both known and loved Marcia, they were anything but quiet, singing loudly whenever they got the chance. The shower was their favorite place to perform right after the real stage.

“Exactly, we’ve gotta go check on them, come one.”

Sasha followed Anetra up the stairs, the silence growing thicker and thicker as they got closer to the bedroom. Beyond the thin walls they couldn’t hear the shower, but they did hear faint whimpers.

They shared a look before barging into the bedroom and then the en suite bathroom they all shared. They expected to find Marcia sat in the closet with their knees to their chest like they usually did when they were anxious or upset, but instead they stood at the sink, scissors in hand hacking away at their silky blonde hair.

“Marcia!” Sasha exclaimed, prying the scissor’s from their hand, making them cry harder, “breathe, Marcia, baby, breathe. C’mon.”

Marcia collapsed against her chest in tears, Anetra swooping in to catch them and gently lower all three of them to the ground. Sasha and Anetra let them cry and cry until they couldn’t anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Sasha spoke soft and gently.

“I-I don’t,” they sniffed, tugging on their still long hair, “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Anetra gently reprimanded, “no sorry’s. You don’t need to say sorry at all, lovebug. Just tell us what’s wrong.”

They almost apologized again, but quickly closed their mouth, an embarrassed flush on their face. “It hurts,” they whispered instead.

“What does?” Anetra probed, visually checking them over for injuries.

“Everything,” they replied quietly, “I don’t feel-I don’t feel…right.”

“Now what’s this about not feeling right?” Sasha said brushing hair from their forehead.

“I feel like I look too much just like a girl and today I don’t feel like a girl-“

“Because you’re not,” Anetra reminded them, “looks don’t change that at all.”

“I know,” they sighed, tears blurring their vision again, “I know, it’s just hard. I don’t really feel like a boy and I don’t feel like a girl and I know I’m somewhere in the middle but if I look the way I do right now people just misgender me constantly. I don’t mind it so much from strangers but sometimes people I know I’ve told my pronouns to don’t even respect them and I thought maybe if I looked less-“

Sasha’s brows furrowed together with worry as she pulled them close. “You poor thing. How long has this been happening?”

Marcia shrugged, feeling hopeless. “A long time.”

“Oh darling,” Anetra cooed, “what do you need?”

They shrugged again, tugging on their hair until Sasha took their hands in hers.

“I guess I need help fixing this mess,” they laughed bitterly.”

Sasha smoothed their hair down. “You know, it’s not so bad and I happen to know someone who specializes in gender affirming haircuts.”

Marcia looked confused so Sasha explained further.

“Not so much the haircut itself but the experience. Haircuts are such an oddly gendered thing sometimes. Men go to barbers, women go to salons and blah blah blah, so my friend opened up a place for people to get whatever haircut they want in a safe and comforting and affirming environment. You could keep your hair long and flowy or even choose a typically masculine haircut and they’d still use your correct pronouns. What do you think?”

“I-I think I’d like that,” they replied, “thank you.”

“Of course, darling, don’t even worry about it, okay? Anetra and I are both here for you.”

Anetra nodded, leaning over and gently kissing their shoulder. “Always.”

[himitsuuta]

[panic room]

crush x fem!reader

genre.: fluff, angst

warnings.: self-harm

author’s note.: english’s not my first language and i wrote this a year ago so please be understanding w me... if you don’t feel comfortable with this topic and this kind of stories i totally understand, take care <3

____________________________________________

today, i went home earlier than usual because of.. everything.

i wasn’t feeling well this week and my bad thoughts came back, i don’t know why,

i was trying so bad to not relapse, looking at the rest of my scars from last year. breathing heavily, my eyes filled with tears, feeling the panic attack coming and looking at the blade i knew i needed help. i knew i needed him but i didn’t wanted him to know.

what will he thinks? that i’m weak, that he deserves better than someone who cuts herself every time she feels bad ?

i’m so ridiculous.

suddenly, i collapsed to the ground. tears streaming down my cheeks, as i took deep breath to calm down.

at that moment i didn’t think about how pathetic i was, i just picked up the phone, dialed his number and called him.

it didn’t take long for him to answer:

“hey babe ?”

“h-hey” i was fighting with my tears not to let out any sobs.

“is everything okay?”

“hum- h/n can you c-com-” i was interrupted with my sobs as i let out all my tears.

“hey hey hey y/n are you okay ?? hey please answer me.”

“ i just- can you come over?”

“what’s wrong? please tell me baby.”

“h-help me please”.

and i just hung up, my tears becoming heavier on my cheeks, sobbing uncontrollably. i was having a panic attack and i couldn’t calm down.

five minutes after the call, i heard h/n open the door while yelling: “y/n ? y/n !”

i juste didn’t have the strength to answer because i couldn’t stop crying.

at this moment he just ran to my room, finding me there, sitting on the floor, head on my knees, my shoulders rising and falling (?hope u understand lmao) irregularly.

“baby, hey, shhh”

he knelt down, taking my hand in his and kissing my knuckle softly.

“i’m right here, hey it’s gonna be okay mh?”

then, he took me in his arms, rubbing circles on my back slowly and gently.

“look at me angel? please ?”

“i- i’m sorry to bother you i-”

i couldn’t finish my sentence when he kissed me.

“you’re not bothering me at all. i’m right here now, how can i help sweetheart?”

“i- uh, i had a panic attack as you see and hum. yeah.”

“a panic attack? since when do you have these?”

“since i was a child but last year it was.. common.”

“what? why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“didn’t wanted to bother you or to worry you, y’know..“

“i will always be there for you y/n, no matter what i love you. you can talk to me, i won’t judge you and you know it. i know you don’t want people to think you’re weak or this kind of thing, but it’s not true. i’ve been through this too and you were always there for me. it’s my turn now.”

“what did i do to deserve you h/n, h/l/n”

“i could say the same about you”

he wipe off my tears slightly with his thumb, holding my hands and pressing my knuckle against his lips, as if to comfort him.

of course i forgot i hadn’t put a sweater on, so my scars were exposed. and he saw it.

his eyes widened, and he caressed it so gently to not hurt me, as if they were still hurting me.

“y-you?” are the only word who escaped his lips.

“yes i did.” i answered, looking at him with his beautiful eyes.

“i should have been there for you, i’m so-” he didn’t finish, he just took his face on his hands, taking a deep breath, as tears rolled down his cheek.

“oh God”

“please- h/n don’t cry, it’s okay you couldn’t know”

“i should’ve cared more” he whispered, looking at my forearms.

he did something i didn’t expect, something that touched me deeply, he kissed my scars.

[alvojake]

And now you were stuck in a place only god knows where with a dead man that you didn’t even know.

WHAT

Without too much of another thought, he grabbed your face, forcing your attention on him.

“Breathe, please.” He whispered softly

ALRIGHT when's the wedding (im sorry its heeseung😅)

What the hell was happening?

same girl same

There was even some blood stuck underneath your fingernails.

😃

“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you, you sick fuck!” You shouted, pointing at the camera, anger blinding you, “I hope you rot in fucking hell, asshole!”

YES YN YOU GOOOOOO

Heeseung took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours before pulling you towards the door.

GOOD LORD HEESEUNG

Heeseung takes the piece of jewelry with wide eyes, inspecting it closely. — “This is Sunghoon’s.”

no it's fucking not.

“Obviously,” Jungwon said nonchalantly

LMAO

He then held up the photo with a shaky hand, “Isn’t this y/n and Riki?”

what is happening.

“good god Sunghoon, you scared the shit outta me!”

why's this already SO creepy

You miss the slight twitch of a smirk on the younger boy's lips as you look down at yourself.

nishimura riki go back to bed

The smile that adorned the male's face dropped once he saw how close you were standing to Jay.

not the time, jaeyun

Jay quickly grabs you, shouting at everyone to cover their mouths and noses with their shirts. However, it was too late. You collapsed in Jay’s arms, unconscious, while Heeseung stumbled before dropping to the ground as well. Before too long, everyone had succumbed to the gas and collapsed to the ground.

okay WHAT is happening

“He’ll be swimming with the fishes.”

i think THE FUCK NOT

KAYLAAAAAAAAAAA YOUR BRAIN YOUR THOUGHTS WHAT IS HAPPENING IM GONNA SCREAMMMMM

okay so what im thinking is, it MIGHT be riki but idk we have not much clues for now, i shall think and get back to you queen

BUT THIS WAS FUCKING GREAT ASKDJAKFSH

KAYZ PLEASE 😭😭😭

the "nishimura riki go back to bed" is literally taking me out 💀💀 but thank you for enjoying it <33

but keep an eye out it might not all be what it seems 🤭🤭

[black-quadrant]

hi. i hope youre still okay with getting talked to like this from long-term followers. i just got bullied off of tiktok, everyone said im really ugly, it feels horrible. i've been getting made fun of irl too. i got a lot of my confidence from following you as a teenager so i'm trying to remember that kind of positivity and find comfort in it. thanks for your presence making me try to be grounded to this day

hi Abigail! I never took to tiktok and hearing this cements it for me. there is literally never a reason ever for someone to call anyone ugly. it's just vile (I recently got called ugly myself lmao some things never change). I am so sorry, though. until this site collapses I will be here to drive positivity in any little way I can, especially hearing this and knowing my reach was long-lasting. people who beat others down are usually projecting or missing something from their own lives. ignore them. you've lovely. I hope you get to feeling better soon.

[signeficunt]

can i hear all u have to say on 9/11 please i am way too interested in it also

omg ofc i'm always happy to infodump about my special interests lol!

(sorry this took a while this post became really long lmao)

i first became interested about 9/11 through the lost media community, when i saw ppl talk about the "LOL superman" video (supposedly an old shock video showing close-ups of the jumpers lying dead on the ground) though i personally don't believe it exists. but it was through that discussion that i found out about r/911archive, which is an amazing resource for anyone interested in 9/11, as it not only mostly factual (speculation does happen there ofc but conspiracy theories generally aren't tolerated) but it's also filled with thousands of kind and helpful people who are just as interested in it as i am lol

recently i've been watching lots of archived footage of the events, mostly news footage but some home videos too, and the naudet brothers who were filming a documentary about firefighters when 9/11 happened (they actually have footage of the first plane hitting the north tower! highly reccomend checking it out on youtube if you have the time!) i actually have a playlist with currently 28 videos in it that i can share if u want! i would say that the absolute best footage of that day comes from eyewitness news. This footage specifically (i hope the link works) is really, really good imo, as they actually caught the collapse of the south tower while standing basically a few meters away from the WTC, absolutely incredible footage imo!

Other footage which i find really interesting is from (i wasn't aware of them before since i'm not american and also born after 9/11), the way you can hear the audiences reaction to the news really hammers home how shocking this actually was, i can only speculate but it really feels like there was this attitude that the WTC, the pentagon and america in general were untouchable, and 9/11 kinda spelled out to people that this wasn't the case at all...

i will add one more video which i found interesting (otherwise this post will go on forever) and that's . i've often heard people who were alive when it happened say that they felt like the world stood still, and after seeing that video i think i understand.

people often trivialise 9/11 by making fun of peoples reactions to it and what not (and i agree that 9/11 has been used to justify awful things) but now that i've seen so much footage from that fateful day i just can't stand that kind of behaviour. and i've joked about it too in the past, in fact if you went through my archive right now you could probably find some post from last year mocking the event, but i really regret it tbh. like nearly 3000 people died (and many more died in the following war) so it's just not funny to me anymore

there's lots of footage which i find interesting but for the sake of this post not being super long i won't go on lol, but u can always send another ask or DM me if u wanna talk more c:

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Since they're closing one for the road that you absolutely dont have to do I just thought I'd send(I'm so sorry if I sent too many)

This came to mind when I sent the headcanon where Vanessa let them all stay with her- so,

How about headcanons or a fic where Gram!Y/N gets kinda broken in the process of beating up Burntrap, but in the end everyone is able to escape the building, and fix up ol' Y/N to be almost as good as new

Honestly dunno if its incharacter but mental image of the blob helping its Gram one final time by getting them out if the others had to leave them due to maybe rubble falling and blocking the way to Y/N or something, came to mind and frankly it kinda makes me tear up abit lmao

- salt anon

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"I can say the same about you."

"It's a miracle you even have a voice still."

"Yess..a voice that will haunt your dreams-"

The loud crashing of wood, stone, and marble silenced the banter between the two animatronics.

Two animatronics with a long history together that only led to generations of suffering.

They knew that only one of them was going to come out of this burning Pizzaplex alive. And they won't give up that opportunity so easily.

Burntrap's grotesque jaw clicked uncomfortably as he turned his head to see the recharge station, consumed by flames and smoke. But he didn't need that anymore.

He had all the strength he needed, plus everyone else was useless to him now. Vanny had ditched him and his grasp on the Glamrocks was lost. They were all free, along with that boy who somehow survived whatever he threw his way.

Against all odds, that homeless brat lived. Thanks to his failure to get ahold of Freddy's systems and your sudden reappearance.

Yes..he forgot to destroy one of the oldest models of his ill-fated franchise. You've been hiding here all along and he didn't realize it until it was too late.

Now you've grown quite a spine yourself, being old and wise and generous, much unlike him.

He despised that. And now he was going to make you join the others---in hell along with him if that's where he ended up again.

You heard Gregory yell out your name in panic as the rubble separated you from them, but Freddy ushered him on, as they had to get out as soon as possible.

This was your plan all along, though. To stall the bastard who took so much from you and your friends..who kept coming back over and over again to take more precious lives--both humans and bots alike.

It was so unfair. To cause so much death just so he can cheat death itself...so he can cause even more deaths.

You were sick of it. You've had enough of this foolishness.

The cycle ends here.

Despite Burntrap's horrendous condition, he proved to be a bit stronger than expected as he launched himself at you, tackling you to the ground with hateful malice in his glowing eyes.

"I will TEAR you apart...as I did all those years ago to them.." He hissed, ripping off your arm and stomping on your torso, crushing your exposed endoskeleton spine.

But his foot was stuck in the hole for a few seconds. And a few seconds was all the time you needed to grab his ankle, pushing him to the ground where he busted up one of his ears upon contact.

"I think not. You on the other hand need a taste of your own medicine!" You sneered, ignoring the sparks and oil that were now sputtering out of your chest. The flames were getting closer, and it was getting harder to fight your body's desire to shutdown.

Gritting his teeth, Burntrap grabbed a nearby brick and slugged it across your leg with all his might, breaking your casing.

With a grunt of pain you fell to one knee, and he got up to strike you across the face, making your sight glitch out for a second as he damaged your visual receptors.

You collapsed and had trouble getting up yourself, instead scooting back against the old office desk as he limped closer to you, still holding the brick.

Unfortunately you had lost your cane,leaving you absolutely defenseless.

“I should have known...that I left something behind..but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Now...I see what a mistake that was. You ruined my plans..so now I’ll ruin you.”

He raised the brick high, and you braced yourself for the moment it comes crashing down on you, destroying you for good.

Yet..nothing happened.

Was he hesitating?

You heard the sounds of a struggle and looked up, seeing a familiar black tentacle wrapped around his wrist. He snarled and turned his head, realizing the Blob was back, staring at him right in the face.

For a moment...he looked scared.

“No...not you all...not again..!!” He clawed at the slimy metal. "How are you alive?! I KILLED YOU ALL!!" A hoarse scream forced its way out of his throat, only to be ceased by another tentacle around his neck.

“That's..where you're wrong, Mr. Afton.” You chuckled. “Don't you know? Death is irrelevant...because we always come back, too.”

Blob’s faceplates opened as they let out a mechanical roar, snatching up Burntrap’s body with a larger tentacle and lifting him off the ground. He was kicking and shouting as the brick slipped from his grasp. In response the tentacle only constricted him further before he was pulled up through the giant hole in the ceiling.

Bck to the fiery inferno from whence he came.

“Thank you..my friends..” Sighing, you looked around you, wondering if this is how your story finally ends: being all alone with nothing but the bright flames as company.

You’ve only gotten to know your “grandkids” for a single night, not even getting to know their true uncorrupted-selves, but you were going to miss them dearly. You hoped they got out safely and could continue a life without killings or glitches.

But most importantly...a life without Afton.

‘I wonder if this is how that one young man felt..when the Pizza Place burned..was it this peaceful? I hope so.’

Before you could readily accept your fate, you noticed a small tentacle rise from one of the nearby holes in the ground, holding something familiar and shiny gold:

“My cane..?” You reached out to grab it, smiling as you saw Blob’s head peek out. “Thank you, but..I’m afraid it won’t do me any good anymore. There’s no way out for....”

However, you trailed off as you saw more parts of themselves go to work, moving aside random pieces of concrete. And you realized they were trying to open up an escape for you.

They carefully picked you up, guiding you to the opening where they set you down ever so gently. You did stumble a bit, but with the support of your cane you were able to keep yourself steady.

Hearing a soft growl, you turned around and saw the Blob nearly nose-to-nose with you, the red lights in Funtime Freddy’s mask dimming a little. You smiled somberly and reached up to pat their soot-covered cheek, resting your forehead against their own.

“You all did great. Now please..rest your souls, there is nothing else.”

.............

“Gregory..don’t cry. We’re all okay--or..well..we’re gonna be okay, I should say-”

“What about [y/n]? Are they gonna be okay??”

“I dunno, kid. C’mon..if we’re seen out here for too long people are gonna-”

“Why should I listen to you after all the tricks you pulled?! Are you that rabbit lady or what?!”

“L-Listen, it’s a long--”

The loud static crackles emitting from Glamrock Chica’s voicebox startled Gregory, Vanessa, and Freddy out of their argument. They looked at her in confusion, seeing her point to the burning mall’s entrance.

“What is it?” Roxanne asked, as Sun held her hand. He became her temporary guide at your request. “What do you see?”

"Y-Yeah I can barely see anything! What's Chica seeing that we aren't??"

“Hrrgm..I think it’s...” Monty tried pushing himself up to get a better look at the figure emerging from the fire. His jaw dropped open in shock the moment he recognized who it was. “No way..”

“It’s...[y/n].” Freddy uttered with disbelief, smiling widely upon realizing you were, indeed, alive. Both he and Gregory rushed over. “You’re alright! Thank goodness.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, dear.” You chuckled softly, glad to see the others made it out okay.

But then you abruptly collapsed, all of your servos locking up due to overheating. Everyone else ran over to you in worry, though fortunately you were still conscious enough to talk.

“I’m alright-t-t..” Your voice glitched. “Whew..I’m really outdated, huh?”

“I-It’s nothing we can’t fix, Gramps.” Gregory reassured you, looking to Freddy, who nodded in agreement.

Then Vanessa approached and knelt down to examine you. “Yeah..we’ll take care of you. And everyone else.” She promised, ignoring Gregory’s cold and cautious stare. “Let’s head to my van. I can patch you up easily. I’ve had some experience working with older models. I studied a lot of them-”

“Oh I’m sure you have.”

“Gregory-”

“Don’t bicker, you two..Vanessa will get the chance to tell her side of the story-y-y.” You told the young brunette. “Let’s all just be..grateful-l-l that we’re outta there, hm?”

The two humans looked at each other, and then back to you, deciding to put aside their previous conflict to help you.

The Glamrocks were free of the virus, as was Vanessa, and Afton was gone. Hopefully for good this time around.

Nothing else matters.

[kazewhara]

Can I request diluc and childe with a strict doctor s/o? In fics their partner is usually portrayed as softer and more patient…but I want to see one who’s unafraid to call the boys out when they’re overworking or not taking care of themselves. Someone who has no qualms to go “you haven’t had a proper meal in DAYS eat your goddamn food” (esp to diluc lmao fire batman needs to rest)

P.s. just found this blog literally two hours ago and I completely fell in love with EVERYTHING? ❤️❤️❤️ You write angst deliciously too!

sick and tired.

masterlist!

# — pairings: diluc, childe x gn!doctor!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, diluc, childe, kaeya, bennett

# — summary: you've never been one to sit idly by and watch someone run themselves ragged, and your lover is no exception.

# — warnings: swearing, blood/injury mention, mildly suggestive content/speech (minors, i've got my eyes on you.)

# — tags: drabble format!!, (physical) hurt/comfort, fluff, a spoonful of angst, childe makes a few dirty jokes, the darknight hero wears a mask (finally.)

# — notes: everyone makes dirty jokes, even in their teenage years.. i'm not gonna tell minors not to interact since it's not explicit (really, it's just a comment or two), but this is the first time i'm writing something containing smth even remotely nsfw, so please don't forget that there may be more explicit stuff down the line! anon i'm sorry for the long note, but it had to be said so YEAH i hope you guys enjoy, and as always, reblogs/reactions are always appreciated!!

✧ — 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 — ✧

"you're still awake." you deadpan, folding your arms over your chest as you watch your fiancé from the doorway. it's about 2:30 in the morning and diluc is still in his office, hunched over his desk with a mountain of paper work in front of him. you see his back straighten at the sound of your voice and he spins in his chair to get a better look at you.

"what are you doing up, darling?" he asks, his voice rich and honey-sweet. it's sickening, and not in a good way. you can see the way diluc blinks the fatigue away in an effort to soothe you, but it doesn't work. "are you having trouble sleeping? should i send someone to--"

your icy glare shuts him up immediately. if kaeya were here, he'd bust up about how the almighty diluc was silenced by nothing but a stern look. it'd be funny if you weren't so pissed off.

when you met diluc, you were the esteemed healer of the knights of favonius. your dendro healing capabilities were second to none in all of mondstadt, and adventurers who came from far and wide always came to you for premium treatment. you've seen some gruesome things over the years, but you've since grown numb to it, viewing each new injury as a learning experience. at some point, eight years ago, you thought you'd seen it all.

until you came across the battered body of the darknight hero.

"shit, shit, c'mon, breathe!" you pleaded as you desperately performed compressions on his chest. you had just finished your shift for the night when you heard the dying shriek of an abyss mage by mondstadt's gate. worried that the knights who killed it had gotten hurt, you rushed to their aid only to find a man with flaming red hair collapsed on the ground. you would have ruled it out as exhaustion if not for the fact that you couldn't see him breathing. you leapt into action and flipped the body over to scan him for further damage.

"dear archons," you swore.

you've seen some bad shit in your career. bennett, that poor boy, once came in with his leg crushed after another failed expedition; timaeus has come in (more than once, actually) after albedo accidentally botched some alchemical experiments, and so on. but nothing, nothing could have prepared you for the cryo damage you saw on the darknight hero's torso.

swallowing back the apprehension that never seemed to go away before healing someone, you reached over to check his pulse. when you felt nothing, you took a steadying breath. it's okay; you've dealt with patients like this. you can do this. you can still save him. you fumbled with his clothing and murmured a soft apology as you revealed the skin right over his heart.

fortunately, the cryo that spread across his body didn't seem to have reached his heart just yet, but if you lingered any longer, it would. you got right to work, hoping to at least kickstart his pulse. the flow of blood would raise his body temperature -- not by much, but it would be enough for you to continue healing elsewhere. so you started to perform cpr, lacing your fingers over his chest and began compressions.

that was fifteen minutes ago.

you refused to give up -- like hell you would give up! the darknight hero is... well, he's mondstadt's hero. he couldn't die here; you wouldn't allow it. "please wake up, you can do it..." you murmured to his unmoving body. you shut your eyes for a moment, scolding yourself for nearly considering him to be a corpse. you said a silent prayer to barbatos, begging for him to have mercy on the man beneath you.

a warm, gentle breeze rustled your clothes as you performed one more rescue breath. the very second your lips left the hero's, his body lurched and he gasped in a desperate effort to bring air into his lungs.

you did it.

you sat back on your haunches with a relieved gasp of your own. as much as you wanted to celebrate your success, your job wasn't done yet. "take slow breaths, sir. you just-- uh, what are you doing?"

the darknight hero, the man who literally just came back from the dead, was trying to get up and walk off. he groaned deeply as he rolled himself over and tried to push himself up onto his knees. "did... did you see," he panted, "my face?"

did you? you actually had no idea how to answer that, but the question made you frown. "who cares if i did?" you retorted. you grabbed his shoulders and slowly maneuvered him back down onto the ground. "you nearly died and that's the first thing you have to say?" you could feel him trying to resist you, but his muscles were too weak. it was a miracle he managed to turn himself over at all.

the crimson-haired man coughed. "it's... so cold. what happened?" he started to shiver and shake violently. you figured it was about time that he did.

"you're wasting your breath, sir." you scolded. you glanced at his face briefly. even if you wanted to see his face, you couldn't; there was a mask covering his eyes. but even with such a short look, you knew right away who the darknight hero really was.

really. if diluc ragnvindr wanted to hide his identity better, he should've worn a hooded cloak.

diluc didn't put up a fight after that. he actually drifted to sleep under the influence of your soothing dendro energy. it made the job easier. when he woke up, you sat him up and insisted that you escort him home. he fought you on it right away.

"you saw my face." he grunted. "why else would you offer something like that?"

"a thank you would be nice," you snapped back. you didn't wither under the intense glare he gave you from under his mask. you scoffed after a tense pause. "or not, i guess. you bring a man back to life and all you get is an angry stare." you mumbled to yourself as you stood and dusted off your clothes.

diluc's eyes followed your every movement. you could still feel the irritation rolling off of his weak frame in waves. "forgive my discourtesy," he said after a while. "is the escort offer still available?"

at least you know he isn't some self-absorbed asshole. you nodded and helped him back to the mansion, where adelinde ushered him inside with wide eyes. before leaving, you stopped her.

"make sure he doesn't leave this mansion for two weeks." you instructed. it wasn't a request; if he worked any more in that state, he was bound to hurt himself ever further.

adelinde's eyes jumped between you and the mansion. "oh... that's, um... i'll take it under advisement."

"i'm serious. i'll send someone from the cathedral with some medication; i better not have to save his life like that again."

you left without another word. it wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an ungrateful patient, but damn, he couldn't even spare a thank you? what a prick. if he ever comes back in, you swore you would push him off to some other healer -- you didn't want to have to put up with his shit.

needless to say, that didn't happen. you ended up coming to diluc's aid often after that (much too often, in your opinion). so often in fact, that a few years down the line, a heavily medicated diluc asked you to be his partner. you were livid with him for working himself to the bone again, but damn if the dopey grin he gave you when you accepted wasn't endearing as hell.

(he will deny that ever happened until the day he dies, but you remember. you'll always remember.)

back in the present day, diluc finally sighs through his nose at your angry silence. "honey, i can't figure out what's wrong if you don't tell me." he sounds so patient whenever he speaks to you. there's always unbridled affection that coats his words -- the kind of affection that's reserved for you and only you.

"do you seriously not know why i'm still awake?" you shoot back. you wait for him to figure it out. you've put up with his nonsense for years; if he honest-to-barbatos has no idea why you're upset with him, then you'd have to take drastic measures. "think, diluc. why else would i be awake at ass o'clock in the morning if i'm not working?"

your fiancé has the audacity to turn back to face his work. is he ignoring you? seriously? "diluc," you call. he doesn't answer. you feel your chest burn with white-hot anger.

"i'm a little bit busy right now, darling. i promise i'll finish up soon and come to bed--"

"bullshit!" your voice scares you, coming out much more shrill than you intended, but you've seriously had enough. for years, he would lie to you about his work habits -- about his vigilante work during his down time. for years, you've had to revive diluc again and again, watching him work himself to an early grave. you've brought him back from death once. you don't want to have to do it a second time.

you don't think you'll be able to, anyways. you sure as hell don't want to test that.

diluc jumps at your outburst, swiveling back around with a frown. "must you yell, darling?"

"don't you 'darling' me, diluc ragnvindr," you snarl his name, the pent-up frustration of years finally pouring out of you. "you always, always say that you're going to slow down, going to come to bed, going to rest, but you don't! you never fucking do! how many times are you going to lie to me? i'm tired, diluc!"

he's stunned into silence. you can't stop.

"all i want -- all i have ever wanted was for you to take a goddamn break. is that too much? am i asking for too much? do you want me to care less?" you wince at that last question. it pains you to even think about not caring about him -- not loving him.

but if he doesn't care for himself, there won't be anymore of him for you to love.

diluc opens and closes his mouth in search for an answer, but comes short. he can only say your name. "i... i'm sorry. i'll finish up for you in a moment--"

"how long is a moment supposed to be, diluc?

you caught him. he doesn't have an answer to that. you laugh derisively and turn on your heel, ignoring his calls of your name. "save it. sleep in here for all i care," you speak over your shoulder. you don't look back as you walk back into your shared room. you throw yourself on the bed with a loud groan.

you feel remorse for a moment, but no longer than that. you're right to be so upset with diluc; you've used so much of your energy trying to keep him safe whilst working non-stop at the favonius clinic. you can only take so much. your heart tugs painfully when you think about how much you yelled at him. you've never done that before, but if that's what it takes to get it through his head that you've had enough, then so be it.

you start to doze off about twenty minutes later, but just as your eyes begin to shut for the night, you hear the door to your room open. "adelinde?" you murmur as you sit up and rub your eyes. "is that you?"

"adelinde? that's the first name you call?"

it's diluc.

you must have gasped out loud, because diluc chuckles softly. "lay back down, darling. i'm coming." he says. you watch as diluc quietly prepares himself for bed and slides in beside you, resting his head on the pillow. crimson eyes peer up at you in the darkness. "are you not going to lay down?"

you glare weakly at him. "i dunno, am i?"

diluc sighs. "darling..."

"if you're doing this to appease me, then you may as well have slept in the guest room." you lay down with a huff, turning your back to him. you won't lie -- seeing him here in bed for the first time in three weeks was making your heart soar, but that doesn't erase what's already said and done.

a strong arm snakes around your waist and tugs you back until you hit a solid warmth -- diluc's chest. you can feel him breathing, and that alone brings you a little bit of peace. you don't give in, though. "what do you want?" you grumble.

lips ghost over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you try your best to pretend that you didn't react.

"you were right," diluc whispers. he's so... close. you squirm in his hold. "i'll come to bed as soon as you do, and i'll stay as long as you want me to. how does that sound?"

"it sounds fine" gets caught in your throat. you don't know if you could believe him; he could be lying. it wouldn't be the first time. but... call it a gut feeling, but you feel like he's telling the truth this time.

and what kind of fiancé would you be if you didn't trust him?

you give up your fight and turn to face him, your brows still drawn. you all but slap one of your hands on his forehead, feeling his temperature. "fine," you murmur, "but tomorrow morning, i'm healing you before you go to work. don't think i didn't notice you stumbling when you changed your clothes."

you can see the pink rising to diluc's cheeks. "ah... alright."

you sigh. you'd never stop healing him -- you'd do it over and over for him in a heartbeat. but if he really, truly meant what he said, then you could stop. diluc was finally taking a step in the right direction, and that's all you wanted.

baby steps.

✧ — 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 — ✧

"hey, gorgeous. your favorite harbinger is back-- ow-- hey! easy! i'm an injured man, knock it off!"

you don't knock it off. you throw rolls of bandages in tartaglia's direction one after the other, emphasizing every word with each throw.

"why! do you! keep! coming! back here?!" you reach down for another bandage and huff when you see you've thrown all you had in stock. it wasn't much anyways. that thought only makes you angrier. you would have more bandages if a certain someone didn't keep coming back to the infirmary.

you knew what you were getting into when you became the resident healer for the fatui. you're busy as hell every single day, scurrying here and there as legionnaires and agents literally form lines outside your clinic to be healed.

you supposed that it was normal for grunts like them to need constant attention; the tsaritsa's missions were unforgiving, and when word of a meddling blonde traveler spread through zapolyarny palace, you eventually figured out what was causing the daily increase in patients.

you didn't mind, really! especially not since you, as a pyro vision holder, were well respected for your exceptional skills. you were valuable to all of the fatui, and despite the lack of genuine comraderie they had amongst their ranks, you still managed to befriend a few regulars.

you wish you didn't have regulars, but they were kind to you when they were being healed. you're allowed to have a soft spot, okay?

naturally, word got around that a certain pyro healer was sending patients away in top condition; it came as no surprise to you that the harbingers had heard of you. it was bound to happen at some point, so you didn't mind when la signora came to poke around your little space.

but then scaramouche paid you a visit, then dottore. he wasn't all that bad, contrary to what you've heard about him.

no, no; the worst of them was tartaglia.

he was the first (and the only, as you later learned) harbinger to come to you as a patient. you heard rumors of his unhinged personality, so you put your guard up as soon as you made eye contact. the line between you two was clear from the get-go, but tartaglia clearly had other plans.

"they never said our healer was easy on the eyes." he crooned as you patched him up. that flirty tone must work on others very well. you silently admitted that yes, you could understand why. tartaglia wasn't half bad himself, but you weren't the flirty type.

"while i appreciate your compliment, lord tartaglia," you replied in your best professional tone, "i'd rather you not show any sort of favoritism towards me. now, hold still -- this might burn a little."

tartaglia raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. you hadn't meant to peak his interest, but here you stood, channeling pyro energy to close his shallow wounds. he didn't flinch as you worked; he must have a high pain tolerance.

"you're the objective type. good to know." he mused when you were done. you hand him a few painkillers; he waved you off, but you insisted, so he took them without much fight. "will i be seeing you around, then?"

you were busy organizing your supply shelves, so you didn't look over your shoulder as you replied with a short "no."

the harbinger chuckled as he walked away. you were cute.

you were very cute to him; in fact, you were so cute that tartaglia found ways to injure himself every day in order to come and see you.

it goes without saying that you've since grown callous to his entire presence.

much like your other patients, you managed to form a bond with tartaglia, albeit a bit unwillingly. he made small talk while you dressed his wounds, asking you about everything from your favorite food to your family. he was nuisance in every sense of the word, but if you were being honest, he was really the highlight of your week.

unfortunately, you fell victim to his charms along the way.

in your defense, tartaglia has these bottomless blue eyes that are way too easy to get lost in. you only realized it when he came in for a black eye; you had no choice but to get a closer look, and only when he mentioned that you were quiet for too long did you realize that you were screwed. luckily for you though, he fell for you in return and confessed to you as you were cleaning up for the day.

it's a little thrilling, no? to be in a secret relationship with one of the most powerful men in snezhnaya. (it's not totally a secret, but you'd like to think it is.)

but why would you be throwing bandages at him? because you're sick of seeing him hurt all the time.

you're well aware that tartaglia has a high pain tolerance. he's supposed to have one -- it's kind of in the fine print of being a harbinger. but just because he can handle it doesn't mean you like it. most of the time he sees you in the clinic, he's got some surface wound that needs nothing more than a bandage, but even those leave scars.

high pain tolerance or not, you know it hurts him. he's too careless with himself, and you can't stand it. some days, he comes in genuinely needing help.

like today, for example. he may be laughing at you for throwing all those bandages, but you can see the sag in his shoulders, the way he's bracing himself on the wall, and oh archons, he's passing out--

tartaglia drops to one knee with a soft grunt. he's clearly trying to fight whatever it is that's ailing him, but it'll be a cold day in hell (and an even colder day in snezhnaya, if that was even possible) before you let him try to charm his way out of proper care. you rush to his side and help him over to the bed, where you push him down. it should've taken more effort on your part to knock him over, but he pretty much collapses with the gentlest touch.

"look at you," he pretty much wheezes, "got me falling for you all over again."

"shut up." you hiss. you quickly locate everything you might need before grabbing your clipboard and a pen. "you know the drill, tartaglia; shirt off."

your boyfriend wiggles his eyebrows at you. "if you want me naked, you're gonna have to wait until we're off the clock, sweetheart."

that's his way of saying he can't. you roll your eyes and help him out of his shirt before taking notes on his heart rate, blood pressure, and all the other essentials. and then he tells you the last time he ate and slept for longer than four hours.

"damn you, ajax, you can't keep doing this!" you throw your clipboard aside as you channel pyro energy to your palms. your vision, full of boundless energy, is capable of transferring energy from one source to another. you give tartaglia as much as you can without overwhelming him before sitting at the bedside. "i told you to give it a rest -- why won't you listen?"

tartaglia doesn't meet your eyes. it's that vacant expression again. "i have a job to do, you know that."

"you can't do that job if you're dead, ajax."

"i won't die, though." he looks at you blankly, but you can see the irritation building. "that's your problem; you seem to take me for some weakling. i'm fine, i--"

you slap his shoulder with all your strength. tartaglia winces, and neither of you say anything. you shouldn't be able to make him flinch at all, and yet here he is, rolling his shoulder back to ease the sting.

"fine? the ajax i know would've laughed at me for doing that."

tartaglia -- no, ajax -- sighs. he's a smart man; he knows when he's beat. "fine, doc. what's your recommendation?"

you close your eyes for a moment. he was clearly about to chew you out for underestimating him, but that was going to be a conversation for another day. for now, he needed your help, and you were going to do your best.

when you finish all your suggestions and stand to grab some more supplies, ajax raises an eyebrow at you. "what?" you ask. "did i miss something?"

ajax shakes his head. "no, it's just... you're good at your job." he drops his chin into his palm as he examines you. now that he's feeling better, he's back on his usual shit, ocean blue eyes raking your figure. "it's kinda hot, actually."

you flush against your will and throw a pill bottle at his head, which he catches with a laugh. "what, i can't admire you at work?"

"you can admire me all you want when i'm not working, okay?

another chuckle, but deeper this time. "is that a promise?"

you don't know how you put up with this man. "if it means you'll sleep for now, then yes."

there's some shuffling. you watch as ajax quickly makes himself comfortable. you can't help but laugh. at least he's resting. "i'm not gonna sleep, though!" he says from under the blankets.

he does. he's out after five minutes.

✧ hi hi anon! it probably wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but i hope it's still to your liking!

[atsuwiee]

Hi! How are you? I read some of your writing and fell in love to the point i’ve been stalking your page (i hope you don’t mind ahaha 😅). If it ok if I request for a drabble/oneshot of leona and his gn s/o (who’s running a fever, but leona hasn’t noticed bc mans is busy. Busy with what? Probably napping or magift practice) arguing? It gets super intense and s/o collapses. What’ll leona’s reaction and actions after be? Thank you!! I apologize for making this so long 😅

leona when you faint during an argument

xian’s note: hellaur, so im sorry this took way too long publish. hope u like it tho ^^

warnings: arguments, grammtical errors, not proofread

leona was busy with magift practice while you were running a fever

basically it was brought to you that leona had cutted classes

he didn’t have a permit to be out in the middle of class for practice

thus you confronted him and then you argued

you groggily entered leona’s room as you see him preparing for magift practice. “leona, please attend your classes.” you confronted him “you don’t even have a permit to go out yet.” you added. leona scoffed “so what? i’d rather skip academics than fail again.” he tells you. “please just do this later. i- i can’t keep up with you when you miss your lessons.” you pleaded “i didn’t ask for your help in the first place, y/n.” he retorted. you rolled your eyes, feeling your temperature rising. “can we not argue about this? please just attend your classes and you can do your practice later. i can’t risk you being delayed another year.” you explained. leona just gets more furious. you start to feel weak due to your fever. “y/n, you’re the one who’s making this issue bigger! if you’d stop pestering we wouldn’t be like thi-“ he stops at his words as he quickly sees you fall to the ground. luckily, he caught you just in time.

lmao leona gets so worried. he craddles you in his arms and tries to wake you up

he thought you died so it was the most agonizing moment of his life (dasurv)

leona notices how pale you were and how your temperature was rising

lays you on his bed and calls a nurse or what

takes care of you while you’re still unconscious

whispers things like “i didn’t mean to lash out on you” “please wake up i’m sorry”

when you wake up, leona runs to you and just becomes a burst of apologies

you’re confused what happened and leona explains you fainted

he took care of you until you recovered

[occassionalfanficwriter]

Heyhey! May I request childe x reader where the reader has been badly abused in the past? As a result she doesn’t mind when childe kidnaps her because childe has never hurt her, and treats her nicely? So since childe has work lmao he leaves a fatui agent to watch his s/o. But since his s/o has such a small appetite she doesn’t eat much. And since the fatui agent has a bad temper, what if he slaps her across the jaw so hard it breaks? So since then she can’t handle leaving childe’s side?Thank you

anon who hurt you? (•ω•`)this childe has yandere undertones but anyways you're welcome and enjoy.

Content warning for everyone else: allusions to domestic violence ,and non-graphic depiction of violence against women.

No Misfortune Without Blessings

Summary: Among the many myths about Tartaglia, few were dedicated to his love life. Even fewer dared to speak of the gentle love between him and his lady but in the soft and hushed whispers of the crowd, all would admit that they painted a pretty picture.

--

There was a boy.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of him. Shy and stuttering but with bright blue eyes that reminds you of the starry sky in the village. You liked him, in the same way you liked the morbid stories and descriptions of the adventurers in the tavern. You liked him too, in the same way you liked the rare flowers that grew in Snezhnayan winter.

And maybe the boy with the starry sky in his eyes and bright red hair liked you too. But it wasn’t something you paid attention to, there were stories and adventures to be had, knowledge to be shared and you decided it was more important.

More important than understanding what everyone your age liked or what accounted for normal. You never did quite understand everyone else in the same way you immediately understood Ajax. It was precisely because of this that you simply didn’t quite fit in, you were just as much of an outcast as Ajax was with his shyness and occasional stutter. You didn’t care for it, you found comfort in the knowledge you’d never be involved in messy affairs of the romantic and platonic kind.

Your world was peaceful.

There was Ajax, the stories from adventurers, and your hidden desire for something more beyond what the small seaside town you call home had to offer.

--

There used to be a boy with bright blue eyes that takes your breath away sometimes. Who had a burning red hair and warm smile that reminded you of the warm sunshine.

You loved to follow him around, notebook in hand filled with scribbles and experiments of different shorts. And Ajax loved you, perhaps, with the way he took you along for adventures on the edges of the woods, in the frozen lake, and taking small commissions from the neighbors.

The two of you had grown taller, childhood fat turning into muscles as your bodies hit puberty. Both of you had changed in so many ways, gone were the days when no one minded the two of you staying out together for a long period of time, without any companion. Whispers followed when the two of you held each other just a bit too long for what was appropriate.

Your world could not simply consist of Ajax and the growing longing you had for what the world had to offer. You didn’t like the change, neither of you two did. But you were much better at pretending than Ajax, so you studied and observed the rest, told this to Ajax and somehow the restrictions on you two became a big game of pretend. You pretended to understand the beauty that others found, pretended to fit in the scale of accepted normalcy.

And then, without you noticing the boy you loved dearly was gone. You stared blankly as you watched his parents cry and search parties used for a boy lost in the woods.

There used to be a boy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of him when he came back to you three months later.

--

You weren’t quite sure when it started, when your world expanded and collapsed until the only things left are the ashes of things you don’t quite recognize. You weren’t quite sure when you stopped yearning for a life of adventure. When you began to settle for whatever it was that was given to you.

Maybe it was when the boy you loved came back with dull blue eyes and a sharp look that told stories only the hardened and veteran adventurers understood. Maybe it was when you could no longer keep up with him, when trouble seeks him out and your parents dragged you away from him.

Maybe it was when one night he sneaks into your room bids you goodbye and makes you realize that the stars in his eyes never left, they were just clouded by something brighter and bigger than whatever it was that Morepesok had to offer.

Maybe it was when you woke up the next day and the boy you loved was taken away into a brighter and bigger place than the small sea-side village.

But that didn’t matter now, not when your whole body hurt and you laid limp on the cold wooden floors of the place that should be home but isn’t. You weren’t quite sure when you accepted this as normal, when the man your parents swore would take care of you became the one who hurt you. You weren’t quite sure when you started to forget all of that you loved dearly.

“...it hurts” you say out loud as tears prick on the edges of your eyes and you simply lay on the floor, ignoring the pain on your ribs, the blood on your mouth and countless other bruises that littered your skin.

You don’t recognize yourself anymore.

And you hate yourself for it.

You think of the boy you loved who had stars in his eyes and the sun in his soul and you yearn for him and what could have been.

--

There was a man with a charming smile and blue eyes, and the mask of the Harbingers. You weren’t quite sure what to think of him when he held your hand gently, and spoke to you about topics you used to love.

You weren’t quite sure what it meant when his eyes grew cold at the bruises on your skin and the whispers that followed you. Maybe you loved him, in the same way you loved Ajax, and the man you lived with. Maybe you loved him in the same way you loved the preserved heart in a jar that used to be yours.

There were a lot of maybes but you were sure that Tartaglia would never hurt you. The day he takes you away felt like a fairy tale, as if the boy you loved came back for you but you knew that Ajax was gone. And Tartaglia was the one who came for you so you stupidly went along with him.

You gave him your everything.

You gave him the tattered pieces of what could have been you, and allowed him to reshape you, until you were stronger than before. You relearned how to be human, how to be yourself, and you loved him for it. You learned how to speak his own love language, stayed by his side and accepted all of him until you weren’t sure where you ended and where he began.

Somehow, you stupidly believed that all of this would remain as it was. Until he had to leave for a long while and you can’t help but feel as if your world would collapse.

“Don’t go” you whispered as you held onto his clothes like a child.

“Don’t leave me” you begged as you shrink your frame and tried to fight the fear of being hated for something like this.

“I’m sorry” Tartaglia tells you, voice soft and gentle as he hugs you tenderly.

You want to cry but you don’t because you had always understood that he was meant for bigger and brighter things. Instead you sank in his chest, you wanted to imprint yourself in him, so that no matter how bright and beautiful the world outside of this home you built was, he’d never forget about you.

“Come back quickly.”

“I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

You don’t tell him that you’ve already begun missing him.

--

You never bothered to get along with Tartaglia’s subordinates. Not when you decided to ignore anything Fatui related since it meant that Tartaglia would never have to worry about you being used against him. You refused to be a burden.

This ignorance meant that despite treating them civilly you had no deep impression on them. It meant that when none of Tartaglia’s trusted aides were available to watch you and take care of whatever your needs were, some new recruit was given to you.

You didn’t care about it much. The new recruits tend to be distant and careful upon knowing who you were to Tartaglia. You didn’t care about what they called you behind your back. What mattered was Tartaglia and his thoughts.

Your heart was too small to include irrelevant matters.

Maybe if you learned how to be human properly, you would have realized the danger you were in. An upstart recruit from a noble lineage coupled with a bad temper would never be suited to your cold and distant attitude. The snark and biting remarks you ignored only added fuel to a fire you weren’t aware of.

You were too busy counting the days until Tartaglia’s return to pay attention to someone you found insignificant.

“You didn’t finish your food again” The recruit complained.

“Feed it to the dogs or whatever” you answered dismissing him with a wave of hand as you drank your water.

No one would care if you ate less than usual. Tartaglia would only ask if anything was wrong and you’d be quick to assure him that it was nothing. You knew that he would overthink and his subordinates would pay for it.

It was best for all parties that his mood remained good. You didn’t want others interfering with your time with him and you were quite sure that after the glamour of sparring with him faded off, his men had no want of being beaten to the ground.

This thought that you believed to be true made you blind. It made you let your guard down when malice was directed at you and you found yourself suddenly on the ground.

The harsh sound of your jaw breaking echoing loudly as you stared blankly on the marble tiles of the dining room. Somehow it felt like you were back in that place, and you could hear shouting and swearing around you.

‘I’m stronger than this’ You thought as you tried to force your body to move.

‘I’m stronger than this!’ You stubbornly insisted as your body remained frozen in the ground.

‘I’M STRONGER THAN THIS!’ You screamed inside your head as you felt like you were drowning again. You couldn’t breathe and you could no longer see anything.

The next thing you saw was Tartaglia on your bedside, asleep and visibly worse for wear. You stood up, opening your mouth only to quickly stop at the dull pain you felt. You could only stare at him with longing. The room was dark and only lit by the moonlight that seeped in through the windows.

You reached out for him, three soft squeezes on his hand as you gingerly kissed his calloused hand. You could tell that he was already awake and you waited for him to open his bright blue eyes that took your breath away.

“I won’t leave you alone anymore” Tartaglia says with sadness in his voice as he cradles you in his lap. You closed your eyes and tapped his lips thrice.

‘I love you’.

--

There was a girl with bright curious eyes that seemed to see through him. Ajax couldn’t keep his stutter out as he shyly introduced himself.

He loved her at first sight.

He loved her more when she took his hand and showed him interesting stuff. Each moment spent with her was an adventure. He loved the spark in her eyes when she talked about the nations beyond Snezhnaya.

He loved her eccentricities and never wanted her to change. But Ajax knew that if he remained as he was, he would never be able to keep her by his side.

The girl he loved yearned for something bigger and brighter than Morepesok and Ajax wanted to give it to her with his own two hands.

There used to be a girl with bright eyes and rarely smiled but could take his breath away when she smiled at him. Who loved all sorts of things without any care, who loved him in the same way she loved the animals they came across.

She was bright and warm and Ajax knew that she was destined for bigger things. That she was meant to explore the world beyond the sea and Ajax wanted to take her away and give her the greatest adventure.

He wanted her world to be made up of him, their adventures, and everything she loved. But the Abyss had no place for gentle dreams and soft loves. So he fought and fought until he realized his dream and set out for something bigger and brighter than him.

‘I want to give her the world’ Ajax whispered in the silence of the night as he fought for his life and then for fun.

He thought of the girl he loved who walked among the stars and he yearned for her. The Abyss had no room for the weak so he hid away what he could and threw away what he couldn’t for the sake of growing strong and paving the way for the girl he loved.

He came back and found solace in the stupid girl that didn’t understand everything yet. He protected her innocence even as she stared at his blood stained hands. He protected her soft and loving heart even as he felt his being torn apart.

He wanted to keep her by his side but he had always been the better fighter. She was better at pretending but she could never bring herself to fight back mercilessly. So he decided to fight for the two of them.

The Fatui was like the Abyss but it could never reach the harshness and brutality of a place seeped in desperation. He hid his heart away, keeping it with the girl he loved who cried for him. He fought his way up the ranks and thought of the girl he loved.

He thought of her as he took missions upon missions, thinking of her soft lips and sweet tears that made him want to take her with him. But he wasn’t strong enough to protect her yet so he leaves her behind, promising to return to her once more.

There used to be a girl who seemed to like she could take the world by storm.

There used to be a boy who loved her secretly and openly.

Now there was a woman whose light was dying, bright eyes dulled and heart trampled upon.

Now there was a man named Tartaglia whose heart burned and raged for those that dared to hurt the woman he loved.

He takes her away, leaves no traces and keeps her far away from the burnt down house that used to be her childhood home. He keeps her by his side and gives her pieces of the world.

Tartaglia with his bloodstained hands gently and lovingly held her in his arms as he dealt with the recruit. It was brutal and inhumane but all of his humanity was meant for the girl he loved and his family.

He gives her the best doctor and waits for her to wake up.

Thrice he made the mistake of leaving her behind.

‘This time, no matter what, I’ll keep you by my side.’

--

Among the myths about Tartaglia few were dedicated to the lady he always took along with him, be it in the battlefield or anywhere else. It was rumored that she was as gentle as Liyue’s glaze lilies, and as deadly as the ruin guards that littered across Teyvat.

But one thing was constant, where Tartaglia goes the lady follows. A warrior and his lady dominating battle fields across Teyvat.

There would be no surprise if one day the entire world fell at their feet.

[hyunjilicious]

What about filming with Seb for the avengers? 🥺

This contains mentions of smutty times but I don't think it needs any warnings? Other than shitty writing lmao!!

Ok, ok, hear me out. You had been on the cast for quite a long while, maybe something like ever since The Winter Soldier or Iron-man 2, so you obviously knew your way around and how everything works. Even though everyone was always a bit on edge when it came to the fate of their character, only a few days were left until wrapping up Infinity War, so you were pretty confident everything would be fine.

One day, when you got to set, a little bit later than usual, the first thing you did was say your hellos and head for the makeup trailer. You had Lizzie on your right, her eyes barely managing to stay open as two pairs of delicate hands worked on styling her hair, and on your left, Sebastian was almost done. The atmosphere was eerie to say the least. Everyone was quiet, none of the usual banter or jokes, but you just rolled with it - putting it on account of the long hours. Boy were you off.

About 9 hours later, those worries had no place left in your mind. You were covered in blood, frantically looking from left to right. 

It was the scene right after Thanos snapped his fingers, and you were thankful your character was supposed to be visibly confused, since you didn't have any idea what was going on either. You just remembered the Rossos saying something along the lines of "Yeah, yeah, just like that. You got this, go" but the problem was that you had never actually given them an idea to agree to. You asked them what you were supposed to do, but they just patted you on the back and left.

So when the camera started rolling, your heart was beating out of your chest, your ears ringing as you knew, deep down, that something big was about to happen. 

Your eyes snapped to the right, seeing Chris, or Steve, fully in character, panting his lungs away as he too looked around, lost. 

Just when you were about to turn around, you caught out of the corner of your eye, some form of movement. 

"What the-" you screamed, completely breaking character and not giving a shit about it, as you saw Sebastian fall to his knees. When he tried to steady himself against his palms, his elbows gave in and he crumbled completely to the ground. This wasn't scripted, and adrenaline washed over you.

In a matter of milliseconds, both you and Chris sprinted in his direction, throwing yourselves on your knees and rushing to turn him around. It all happened so fast, it was mostly a blur, but the fear you felt when you saw him collapse, broke you. And in all that haze, it took you a moment too long to realise that as soon as Sebastian uncovered his face, there were tears running down his cheeks as he laughed his soul out.

"Cut!" Joe called, excitedly standing up and waving his hands in the air. "Perfect! We're keeping this!"

"Seriously!?" Chris exclaimed amused, unable to hide his smile as soon as he realised what had happened. 

"You idiot!" you yelled, looking down at Sebastian who had his arms wrapped around himself, holding his abdomen as his face turned red from laughter.

And maybe, had you not been the one who acted like the world just ended in the middle of a set full of people, you would have found this funny from the beginning too. Literally anyone else could have fallen and you wouldn't have freaked like that. And that was why you were mad at Seb, but proceeded to laugh and make jokes about the situation with everybody else from the cast.

About two hours later, when you were both done for the day, Sebastian couldn't find a way to keep his distance from you. He followed you everywhere, his mouth not shutting for even just one second.

"Come on-" he pleaded, jogging a few steps in front of you so he could see your face as he spoke, "You can't be mad at me, please don't be mad at me-"

"I hate you" you simply said, turning around on your heels and sprinting in the opposite direction.

"No, come on, Y/n" he followed you, arms outstretched as he maintained your pace, "It was funny, and it looked great on camera"

Taking a deep breath, you stopped dead in your tracks and looked into his eyes for the first time ever since it happened. "Seb, you know what? I looked like an idiot, it was a dumb idea, I hate you, goodbye"

Frankly, no matter how dramatic you sometimes got, this was too much, even for you. You were perfectly aware you were exaggerating, and had to struggle to keep yourself from bursting into laughter - but you just needed to see how far this could go.

"No, don't say that.." he argued, stepping in front of you again and grabbing your shoulders, "Don't ever think that. You didn't look like an idiot, you were just worried". As he spoke, his voice softened and his eyes warmed up. "You were just worried about me…"

"Of course I was worried about you!" you rolled your eyes, "And you thought it was funny"

And those words right there, hurt him. "No.." Sebastian mumbled, "No- I'm sorry, I- come here"

Without giving you a chance to object, he gathered you to his chest, his arms tightly wrapping around your body. He genuinely felt bad, and now, you did too.

"Seb," you sighed, pulling away, "I'm sorry too- I'm not really mad. I was just messing with you, wanted to see how far this would go"

He seemed confused - genuinely surprised with the turn of events, but he didn't complain. Instead, he just frowned, and searched for your eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure" you nodded, "I'm not a child, I act like one sometimes but still"

"You really do" Sebastian laughed, as you both mindlessly started to walk towards your trailers. 

"Look who's talking" you mocked.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't know this until like a few hours ago either. I just found out this morning, that's why I've been off. I knew you'd pry the information out of me somehow"

"Yeah!" you giggled, "I definitely would've"

Just when you were about to reach your trailer, you heard Sebastian groan in pain before he abruptly stopped walking. You turned around to see him clutching his right knee, wincing in pain. "Shit!" he cursed under his breath.

"It's too soon" you scoffed, "I'm not gonna fall for that again"

"No-" he waved dismissively, "I'm fine, it's been hurting for some time, don't know what started it now, though"

And despite your brain yelling 'No, no, don't fall for it', that was exactly what you did. Your heart panged when you saw him limp, and you didn't even think twice before rushing to his side to help him walk.

But of course, not even a step was taken before he burst into laughter, causing you to shove him away from you with all your might.

"Can't believe it worked-" Sebastian said in a high pitched tone, laughing as tears threatened to fall down his cheeks.

"I'm never talking to you again. I hate you" you groaned, turning around and storming off.

But he didn't let you get too far. In a matter of seconds he had caught up with you, wrapping his arms around your body from behind, his face right above your shoulder, "No, you really don't hate me"

"Yes, I do!"

"Come on" he chuckled, "Let's go get a beer"

"No, Seb"

"Two beers?"

"Seb-" you threatened, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold, but all he did was follow you around, still holding you in his arms.

"Three beers!?" he asked playfully enraged.

"Let me go, or else-"

"Or else what?" he taunted proudly, leaning over your shoulder to look you in the eye, "What are you gonna do, hm?"

"Don't test me" you threatened, the proximity making you a bit more playful than usual.

"What are you gonna do?" Sebastian grinned, "Spank me?"

And the following words just slipped out of your mouth, your brain having never been involved in any kind of thought process whatsoever. "Only if you spank me first" you said, and then his mouth fell open.

"Deal!" he cheered, letting you go, and moving to stand in front of you, "It's a deal, it's done"

"Yeah" you laughed, "Ok"

"Ok… to the beer and the spanking?" he teased, and you couldn't hide your amusement.

"Just the beer, Seb"

"And what about the spanking?" he pouted.

"Ask me after that beer"