#other than blue thunder bomb in there

[roosterbruiser]

Okay but as someone w lupus who is not doing too hot rn, I would drop kick someone into the sun for a good blurb of Bradley taking care of me 🫣

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐮𝐭

𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

You aren't sleeping very soundly. Try as you might--drawing the curtains closed, putting a pillow over your face, getting under a weighted blanket, playing white noise, turning the fan on high, even putting a few drops of lavender essential oil on your pillow--the deep and all-consuming sleep you crave just isn't coming.

And it isn't just that you can't sleep--it's that you just don't feel good. You're certain you have a low-grade fever, your joints are aching, and you're sluggish.

After trying to be a productive human for a few hours, you decide to just give into the desire to lay down and sleep. Except the closest you come to sleeping is fluttering in and out of awareness with a sudden jolt.

Bradley comes home, lug-sole boots thundering against the entryway tiles, without a care in the world. He tosses his keys in their designated metal bowl with a resounding clang. He's even still crooning some Peter Gabriel song that was playing in the Bronco on his drive home. Needless to say--he seems to be making as much noise as humanly possible, entirely and blissfully unaware of the throb in your temple.

"Baby!" He calls out dramatically, unlacing his shoes and tossing them aside (another bang, bang!). "Where are you? M'gonna explode if I don't kiss you right now!"

Any other day, you'd be elated to hear such a romantic--albeit melodramatic--statement. But right now, your throat is aching and your eyelids are heavy and you're tired in the very marrow in your bones.

He starts for the stairs, still humming loudly along to a song that is just not playing, and calls out your name. You don't have it in you to raise your voice--which is the only way he'd be able to hear you, anyway--so you just wait underneath your pillow and wait for the sound-bomb that is your boyfriend burst through the door.

Burst through he does--letting the door slam against the wall (a habit you are really trying to get him to break seeing as he's put a lock-shaped hole in the wall. He says he just gets too excited and you think it's endearing, but you're also sure that he's getting tired of spackling the same spot every weekend) as he enters the room full of song and cheer.

But then he sees you.

You look just as tired and worn down as you feel; fingers a blue-tint, body covered entirely by the weighted blanket you only break out when he isn't home to lay on top of you, and pillow pressed against your face a tell-tale sign that something isn't right.

"Oh, baby," he whispers softly, immediately hurrying into the bedroom, now mindful of his footfalls. He presses his hands against yours, tutting when he feels how cold your fingers are. "You should've called," he says soberly, stroking the soft skin of your hand with his calloused thumb. "Would've come home, baby."

You groan, shaking your head, unwilling to open your eyes.

"You're government property," you tell him softly, muffled by a mouthful of pillow. "Can't just tell the Navy to give my boyfriend to me for a day."

Even without looking, you know he's grinning. Even as shitty as you feel and you're cracking jokes.

"Don't you know the Navy answers to you, baby?" He chuckles, bending down to press a fleeting kiss to your hand, patting your forearm.

"Hah," you manage dryly.

That's how he knows you really don't feel good--you can't keep riffing with him. His chest is aching just looking down at you. Poor thing, he's thinking.

"Let me tuck you in," he says softly. "Permission to move the pillow?"

You grumble, but shoot him a thumbs up.

It's so bright in the room, even with the curtains closed. You have to blink a few times, squinting up at him. And he's smiling in that soft way, pitying you and loving you all at once. He hates when you're sick more than anything in the world, but boy is it a breath of fresh air just to see that face of yours.

You frown, your cheeks pink.

"Hi," you whisper, voice ragged.

He strokes your hair softly, slyly checking your forehead for a fever. Then he leans down and presses his lips against yours; it's a soft and sweet kiss, one he's been looking forward to all day.

"Hi," he mumbles against your lips. "Y'look beautiful."

You scoff.

"Shut up," you mutter, sighing. "I'm sick."

He kisses you again, nuzzling his nose against yours. He's grinning now.

"And those two things are mutually exclusive?"

You don't have it in you to retort, so you just roll your eyes.

"M'gonna grab a survival kit," he starts, stroking your cheek carefully, noting how pink it is in comparison to the rest of your peaked face. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

You glare at him--he just can't help himself today, apparently. You have just enough energy to stick your tongue out at him and he walks out of the room chuckling.

He's good at taking care of you--it's because his mom was good at taking care of him when he was sick. She spoiled him and even if he didn't physically feel good, he loved being showered with attention. So he gives you the same treatment. It's not that he likes when you're sick, but he likes to spoil you.

You drift off for the few minutes he's gone and come to as he pads through the door with his arms full. He kneels at your bedside, humming quietly, in full nurse-mode.

"Open," he hums, holding a thermometer to your lips. You comply without a grumble and he pats your cheek. "Should I crush your pills up and hide them in applesauce?" He asks.

You narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head. He has a shit-eating grin spread across his pretty face, chuckling to himself.

You have to admit--he is endearing when he's like this. You know he's only trying to lighten your mood and honestly? It's working. Damn Bradley Bradshaw.

He's humming to himself as he moves to pull the covers up around your feet and slips a pair of fuzzy socks on you. He even leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your socked feet, which would make you gag if it was any other man than Bradley. But that's the thing about Bradley--you were totally and completely in love with him and he returned those feelings tenfold. Hell, he was obsessed with you! There was not even one part on your body he didn't adore, not one state of being that he wasn't enamored with.

He tucks you in with a gentleness only someone as lovely as Bradley could possess. Then he swiftly grabs the thermometer from your lips and reads it with his eyebrows pinched.

"What's the prognosis?" You ask, resting your cheek on your shoulder.

He opens his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Says you're hot," you and Bradley say in tandem, your tone dripping with faux-mockery and his dripping with genuine charm.

"Am I getting predictable?" He asks, popping a bottle of fever reducer and placing two on your tongue, effectively rendering you wordless again. He holds a straw to your lips and you drink as much as you can before collapsing back into the pillows.

"Only sometimes," you say quietly, eyes growing heavier by the second.

You honestly just feel better in his presence--the ache in your skull dulled by his grin, by his careful touch, by that glimmer in his eyes that makes you gooey inside. So when he kisses your forehead again and tells you that he's going to put some soup on, you are not surprised to feel that tell-tale exhaustion flood you. It's one you can't evade; within minutes, you're slumbering under the blanket he tucked around you, lips wet with icy water, feet warmed by socks he bought for you.

"Nurse Bradley reporting for duty! May I offer you a sponge bath--!"

He stops speaking as soon as he sees your slumbering form.

He isn't gone for very long--maybe fifteen minutes--but when he comes through the bedroom door carrying a tray of chicken noddle soup and saltine crackers and finds you finally resting, he's relieved.

He knew you were tired and he knows how difficult it is for you to sleep when he's not home. He sets the tray down on the bedside table as carefully as he can, quickly stripping to his boxers, climbing onto the bed beside you. You rouse only for a moment as he tangles your limbs in his, tucking your head under his chin, slotting his leg between yours.

But he's quick to press soft kisses to the crown of your head, stroking your hair.

"Shh," he whispers. "S'okay. Just couldn't leave you all by yourself in this big ole bed, baby."

You smile through your exhaustion, wrapping your arms around that warm and taut torso, nuzzling your face in his neck. He smells so good; like the nice soap you buy from his shower this morning, like jet fuel, like salt air. It is a scent that entirely overwhelms you with adoration and comfort.

"You liiike me," you mumble, yawning.

He laughs, kissing you again and again, letting himself get lost in your sweet scent.

"More than that," he whispers. "I love you--so much. Just so, so much."

You're slipping away again, mouth parted, face blanched in the infinite warmth of his tanned skin.

"I love you too," you whisper, muffled by his throat. "Nerd."

His heart is so full right now that he's certain it's going to burst--he loves you more and more every single day. It's something that overwhelms him at times, something that wets his eyes, parts his lips. And right now, with your bodies an endless and intricate pile of flushed and goosed skin, he feels it now. His heart lulled to a steady rhythm that he knows is the cadence of your name, his eyelids heavy with something close to sleepiness, his fingers tingling as they comb through your hair.

Bliss. That's what he's feeling as he holds you, as he thinks about reheating your soup when you wake up, as he mentally marks what time you will need another dose of fever-reducer. Total, absolute bliss.

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

[annadoingshitpoorly]

FRIENDS IN THE DARK - Chapter 1

Ellie Williams x Reader x Abby Anderson - TWILIGHT AU

Word Count: 6.1K+

Content Warnings: Uninvited Visitors, parents being proud of you, USE OF Y/N, nicknames (from parental figure), motor vehicle accident, being chased/hunted, Ellie-Abby beef, Abby having beef with Mel, Abby in general in this tbh…

Men, Minors and general fuckheads DNI 💚

The prologue can be found here

Jackson, Wyoming. It’s a quiet town. The sort of town where nothing ever seems to happen. Surrounded by hills and woods, people who are born there eventually move away nine times out of ten, those that do stay have been there for generations and can’t escape the monotony of the town. It’s the kind of town where one is never rudely awakened. Especially on the weekend.

The morning after your first night in Jackson, the nearly eerie silence that seemed to descend across the valley is broken so abruptly that the thundering noise can only be described as strange, forcing you to wake early and not due to your body clock. But to a heavy handed knock on your front door, maybe choosing the room with the front facing window was a bad idea but you’d made your bed now all you had to do was lay in it… well a you put a mattress on the ground and had to lay on top of it, but that’s besides the point. Throwing a fleece blanket over your shoulders you peek out the open window, stood there was a girl. You lean on the window ledge and poke your head further to try and see her better, but with little success, only being able to gather that she was blonde with an extremely impressive shoulder span.

Shrugging into your jeans from the day before, you quickly get down the stairs to answer the door, the blaring of the radio from the kitchen explaining why your mom hadn’t answered the knocks. As you stand in front of the door, you smooth the creases in your shirt from having slept in it last night and pull the doorknob.

Blue eyes meet yours and a small smile comes to her face. “Hi. I’m Abby, I live across the street." She tilts her head towards a rather impressive two storey house with a vintage Chevy out the front. You pause for a moment looking towards where she motioned but thankfully catch yourself and open the door wider, “Wanna come in?” She nods and steps in as you close the door behind her. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Mom’s in the kitchen if you want?” Politely Abby nods and follows behind you as you head into the back where you push the door and find something akin to a bomb scene. Amid pots and pans, silverware and slow-cookers, stands your mother with her hair tied out of her face with a bandana and beads of sweat amassing on her furrowed brow.

“Mom. Mom! MOM!”

“Huh? OH, GOOD MORNING SLEEPYHEAD!” She turns and twists the volume down on the little portable blue radio, “Who’s your friend, doll?” At this Abby extends her arm towards your mother and shakes her hand, her grip is firm and confident, “Abigail Anderson, ma’am. I live down the road.” They continue to chat as you lose yourself in thought…

It’s the name that causes you to stop in your tracks, shattering your coherence. Wait- this is Abigail Anderson?! The same Abigail that was your first kiss in elementary school at eight years old?! The same Abigail that braided your hair at recess in the school yard? The same Abigail that always swapped half of your peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich for half of her chicken salad sandwich? The same Abigail that hugged you so tight that last day of school, whose tears had made your shoulder damp and you held each other one final time before you left Jackson for what was supposed to be forever… Abigail- Abby. She’s all grown-up now, you suppose you have too, she probably didn't recognise you for that very reason just as you hadn’t clocked on to her. Looking at her as she talks to your mom, her hair is still the same dirty blonde more golden than hay-like as it had been but it is confined to a braided prison that falls over her shoulder and onto her shirt, a shirt that does nothing to hide the fact her shoulders are so toned and broad how she’s clearly built an incredible amount of muscle. The freckles up her neck are new, maybe from the summer sun. And they trail up to her ears, little golden brown flecks and her eyes piercing blue, glacial and bright. Further down her face her mouth is moving, and she’s looking at you- She's talking to you. Oh fuck. OH FUCK-

“Sorry, I lost my train of thought… what was that?” Shit. Count on you to sound so fucking ditsy, but at least she’s smiling, maybe she likes bimbos. Wait why would you think that-

“I was asking if you needed a lift to school on Monday? You’re going to Johnson-Bailey High right?” Abby’s trying to start a conversation and you can’t even think straight.

“Oh yeah, I am.” Awesome, common ground to start from again, “Are you going into senior year too?”

“Yeah! Hopefully we’ll have a class together,” She’s moving from her spot on the breakfast bar, and is dusting herself down, “well, I’ll leave you to get sorted out. Call me if you need a hand with those tables and boxes?”

Your mom is wrapping her arms round over Abby’s shoulders to hug her as the blonde girl attempts to make it to the door, and you’re left following behind the pair. “Thanks for coming over Abigail, please tell your father he’s welcome over anytime and you are too.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N?”

“I’ll see you later, Abby. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, really nice.”

As you close the door you walk away as Abby waits outside the door for a few moments, mumbling under her breath, before jogging away of her own accord. Meanwhile your mother returns to the kitchen, you in tow.

“It was nice for her to offer you a lift, make sure you thank her on Monday.”

“I will, mom.” And boy you wish you could do more than just thank her.

The rest of that Saturday breezes by, from unloading the moving truck to constructing the newly purchased ikea furniture, with your hands full the whole day you never even notice how tired you are until the your head hits the pillow on top of your now put together bed, the Friday night’s mattress now having a place to rest, your phone on your nightstand and plugged in to charge buzzes with a notification just as you’re dozing off. You decide to check in the morning. Despite your tiredness and complete willingness to fall asleep, something keeps you tossing and turning. A burning sensation, like someone holding a lighter too close to your flesh. Pulling the quilt over your head eases the feeling a bit, enough for you to finally fall into a deep rest.

When you wake on Sunday morning at a far more reasonable time than the day before, you pick up your phone, finding all that's displayed on the screen is the time. You could have sworn that you’d gotten a message last night but brush it off.

That Sunday morning and afternoon follows a similar path as the previous, unpacking the boxes and shuffling around mini mountains of clothes and kitchen ware. It hadn’t occurred to you in the chaos of the past two days that you had school starting that next day, the weekend had been rattled through so quickly that both you and your mother hadn’t had time to rest - the rest that the weekend would serve you under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal circumstances. Abby had come over around noon, said she was coming back from a jog and left you her mobile number for the morning. You had forgotten that she’d offered you a ride.

Pushing past your mothers relentless teasing of ‘oh you’d be so cute together’ and ‘such a pretty couple’, you finally get her to back off with a sharp “Mom. I don’t know if she’s even into girls.” With your mom now quelled at least partially, you hide in your room opting to sort through the boxes of your personal belongings.

By the time books are on the shelves and the majority of your clothes have been tucked away into the closet that sits to the left of your bay window, it’s late. Like super late, 11:45 isn’t that late you tell yourself initially but then remember that you should be up at 6:30 at latest… Deciding that you’d be best sleeping immediately you text Abby as you crawl into bed to check that her offer of a ride still stands and much to your relief it does. With clothes for the morning on the desk beside your full and definitely heavy backpack, you feel confident enough in your preparations to set your alarm. Abby will pick you up at 8:00AM with that thought in your mind you drift into a contented sleep, small smile on your lips.

The alarm sounds and your phone vibrates on the nightstand, you wake with a most unhappy groan spewing from your mouth. You definitely should have gone to bed earlier. Steam and hot water provide your achy muscles a modicum of relief as you soak in the spray of the shower, the water pressure is definitely better here. Getting dressed, you look outside the window relief rushing over you as the morning is misty and overcast but for the first time since Friday night, it’s not raining.

You greet your mother as she comes out of her bedroom, dressed in her casual wear. “There’s some cereal in the cupboard and milk in the refrigerator, but I’m going to get groceries after talking with the doctor.”

“Are you not feeling good?” She shakes her head, yawning while trying and failing to speak at the same time. “You’re trying nursing again?”

“Hey! I’m good at it, plus it’ll pay more than waitressing or being some retail assistant.”

“Fair.”

You sit at the table, scrolling through your phone. While checking your tumblr a knock at the door snaps you from your passive scrolling, the digits on the corner of the screen read ‘07:53’. Abby likes to be early. Noted. Leaving the spoon and bowl to clatter in the sink, you snatch your backpack and throw it over your shoulder before yelling a hasty ‘Bye Mom!’ to your mother through the front door from the front porch.

Abby waves at you from the bottom of the driveway, her posture is relaxed as you open the car door and drop down into the seat.

“Hey, you ready to go.” The blonde looks to your face firstly then to the backpack at your feet and finally back to your face once more, meeting your eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be?”

She smiles at your answer but doesn’t mention why as one hand puts the car in drive and the other pulls at the steering wheel. Her stance never changes from the calm, confident and collected aura she exudes. The small talk she makes is pleasant, the little tidbits of information the two of you exchange quickly help you re-establish a bond and the twenty minute car ride goes by in what seems like a blink of an eye. Her dad hadn’t remarried since her mom had died, she was captain of the lacrosse team, she’d broken up with her boyfriend 3 weeks before you’d arrived because she found him cheating on her. It was nice to talk to someone other than your mom, and boy did it help that Abby was easy to talk to.

Pulling into the large gates and red brick walls that bordered the grounds of Johnson-Bailey high school, Abby parks the car up in a section set aside for the seniors. The school looks much less intimidating than it did when you were younger, the brick carries on from the walls and makes up the exterior for the front school building but the extensions and external gym building juxtaposes the classic red brick with their stark white and metal make up. Hundreds of grumpy teens and even grumpier teaching staff mill about the front of the school, reluctant to be back to normality following the summer break. It feels normal. Normal is good.

Abby waves goodbye to you as the assistant principal singles you out and pulls you over. Standing next to the finely dressed lady (‘Miss Dandridge’ she had said) is a very pretty girl, thick curly hair tied back from her face and light makeup enhancing her dark features. She introduces herself as Nora, and your personal ‘buddy’. Despite the forced friendship aspect of the introduction, Nora is extremely likable as she makes small talk and gives you a quick tour of the school building on your way to your joint home room. Opening the door, Nora heads to the back of the room and sits in the spare spot next to a familiar blonde.

Following the lead of Nora you move further into the classroom and find a seat next to a tall Asian boy with the floppiest black hair you’ve possibly ever seen. He leans over and offers you his hand, “Jesse. You new?”

Taking his hand, thankful for him approaching you first, “Yeah, Y/N. I’ve just moved back.”

He smiles, “Well, it’ll be nice to have a fresh face ‘round here. Jackson’s a bit shit, to be honest.”

You laugh at his seeming ‘down to Earth’ness and continue talking with him until the man that had previously been sitting at the teacher’s desk gets up from his spot and the scraping of chalk against black board alerts you to his shift in demeanor.

“Good morning, Class S-1. I hope you had an enjoyable summer, I’ll be your home room tutor and your English teacher. My name is Mr O’Bri-”

The door opens and a girl comes in a heavy blush on her face as she rushes past and sits down at the desk directly in front of you and Jesse and as she scurries around, fixing herself in the seat Mr O’Brien locks eyes with the girl. “Dina, see me after first period.”

“Goddamn it…”

Aside from the initial interruption of the Dina girl, the period passes swimmingly. And the one after that, and the one after that. The day continues smooth and steady as a drumbeat and lunch rolls around before you have time to realize. Following the stream of students into the cafeteria, you look around and spy Nora and Abby sitting beside some other people in letterman jackets around a circular table in the corner, after a small amount as you approach the table. Abby gives you a smile as you approach, pull a chair out and sit down. You breathe a sigh of relief as Nora introduces you to the rest of the table, a few guys and a couple of girls. There’s a tension you immediately pick up on a few side glances between Owen and Mel, deciding to ask Abby about it on the ride home at three thirty you keep your voice down and occupy yourself with the mystery meat in a hamburger bun.

The lunch is pleasant and the company is definitely the cause of it being so. As you find yourself walking back to class with Manny, the brown haired boy keeps you in chat as you head towards the physics classroom. Manny sits behind you as the teacher instructs you to sit along the benches each row separated by gender.

There are no familiar faces in the room, but as class drags on you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. That’s familiar, but you can’t place why or where from. Looking back at the rest of the class, green eyes meet yours. They’re burrowing into yours as you struggle to break the contact. You finally snap back to reality with a nudge from Marta who’s sat beside you. You clear your throat and try to ignore the churning in your stomach as you can still feel the pine needle eyes stabbing into your back. As the bell rings, you rush to your final class. Throwing the notebooks and pens haphazardly into your backpack, charms around the zips clinking together in your attempt to make a quick get away. You don’t notice as one of the button badges on the front of the bag pops off as you fling a strap over your shoulder. But she does. Her eyes lock onto the cute little smiley face pin. Long fingers wrap around it and slip the accessory into a jean pocket.

By the time the final bell rings to signal the end of the school day, you’re relieved to say the least. The flushing of students towards the front of the school and out to the parking lot sweeps you away until you’re in front of Abby’s car, waiting for her to show up. To be fair to her, she had warned you that would most likely be running a bit behind the rest of the student body as the coach would be looking to talk to her. And as it was currently twenty to four, she was turning out to be correct. Nora walks past and waves as she hops into her car, a little green fiat. Abby can’t be too far behind as Nora was a part of the lacrosse team too. Scrolling through your phone, enjoying the screen time for the first time since lunch, you get lost in the endless dopamine hits the silly little TikToks give you. You’re completely in a world of your own when a poke to your arm shocks you. And there she is. Staring you down once more, is the green eyed girl from Physics.

She says nothing as she sets her longboard on the ground allowing herself to slide a long, bony hand into the front pocket of her baggy jeans, the belt seeming more of an accessory than a functional piece of clothing as it does nothing to support the denim laying loose around her thin hips, you get your first good look at her the auburn shaggy bob she has frames her face nicely if not causing her to appear a even more gaunt than her skinny, pale frame already is, the freckles across the bridge of her nose and up her cheekbones are comparable with constellations. Pulling her hand out of the pocket you see she’s holding something, something small and sentimental. She holds it out for you to take, “here,” she says and you take it hesitantly from her. You meet her eyes again, they’re still looking at you with as much focus as when you had your first encounter. You give a soft, nervous smile, “Thanks, where did you-”

“WILLIAMS. FUCK OFF.”

Abby’s voice booms out across the empty parking lot. You turn on your heel to look at the blonde as she moves at great speed towards you and the other girl, Williams… it must be her last name. As Abby comes to stand between the two of you, the slight warmth to the auburn girl’s eyes vanishes. She backs up and pulls the skateboard away with a slight yank of her leg, one foot rests on it allowing her to rock back and forth giving an air of arrogance to the smaller girl. “Easy! Down girl,” this elicits a guttural rumbling from Abby, “I was just returning something.” Abby lunges towards the skinny girl but you grab the blonde’s arm and pull her back. In comparison to Abby this strange girl was akin to a rag doll, small and frail looking in your eyes. The skater girl takes this as her chance to back up and she does.

“Watch it, Williams. You better fuckin’ watch it.” Abby calls out after her as she moves away towards the backgate of the school.

You reach out and meet a muscled shoulder with your hand as your touch causes Abby to snap back to reality. She opens the passenger side door for you and lets you get in before hopping around to the drivers side and sliding in. The journey home is quiet and tense. Turning your head to face the blonde, she answers your question before you even finalize it in your own mind. “Nobody, nobody good anyways. She is trouble. She will always be trouble.”

“Why’s that, Abby?”

“Bad breeding, at least in my opinion.”

She clicks the knob for the radio and music starts wafting through the car easing the tension as Shania Twain comes out from hiding in the speakers, as the karaoke begins any tension is washed away with the titters and giggles of pure unadulterated fun.

Abby drops you off at yours before pushing on towards her own home. opening the door you find the house empty and devoid of life, letting your backpack lay up against the breakfast bar you spot a yellow sticky note on the worktop, ‘Got some groceries. Snakes Snacks are in the pantry. Got an interview for the hospital. Love you, Mom.’ With a fistpump of celebration, you poke your head into the pantry only to see it much fuller than nine hours ago. Thank god. Grabbing a cereal bar you go upstairs and get stuck into your homework, this keeps you occupied for a few hours until eventually the front door opens, closes and the scuffling of shoes being cast off and relegated to a corner tells you your mom is home. “Sweetheart! I brought take out!”

With a fist pump and silent cheer, you close your laptop over and chuck your history textbook to the end of your desk. The Oregon Trail can wait, you’ve got chinese food to eat. “Comin’ now, mom!” You yell whilst running down the stairs, stepping into the kitchen you see your mom holding a plastic bag with several takeout boxes inside. “You grab plates and I’ll get some drinks, then we can have a TV dinner and you can tell me all about your first day?” Your mom suggests as she is already head and ears into the refrigerator, poking around for some cans of soda.

The flickering of whatever late night chat show is on the screen makes for ambience as you spill the gossip of the day to your mother, her face is nothing short of comical as you tell her about the tension between Owen (your mom laughs heartily at the description of him you give, of his hair being a dirty blond hedgehog with his eyes being too close together, like an opossum,) and Abby. The strange girl that had returned your pin. You even mention joining one of the clubs at school.

“Sweetheart,” your mom starts, “can I talk to you, adult to adult?”

You nod and panic flashes across your mind and definitely across your face, but your mother doesn’t seem to catch it and looks relieved.

“I’m glad you’re being so open. I was scared… I was very scared about coming back. And when your dad…”

You keep quiet, letting her ramble and fumble through her words as you watch as she becomes more and more lost in her mind before you wrap your arms around her, comforting her, soothing her worries, bringing her back to earth with a few words,“I know, mom.”

She sobs into your arms, tears wet your shoulder leaving your t-shirt damp and darkened on one side. She cries long and hard until she eventually falls asleep, grip on you loosening as your mom loses consciousness. You wiggle out of her grasp, take the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over her, placing a kiss on her forehead you move to the kitchen and do the dishes. The street lamp light doesn’t reach this far around the side of the house but the moon is enough to at least not leave you to stare into an abyss of total darkness, the tree line starts about two hundred and fifty yards from the back porch and you watch as a fox pokes its head out from the brush. It makes its way across the portion of grass that makes up your backyard before stopping dead in its tracks. The dishes are forgotten as you watch the small canine look around panicked. It quickly sprints back into the green foliage and it disappears from view.

Getting back to the dishes, you finish the chore quickly and choose to make your way to bed, turning the TV off on your way while making sure your mother hasn’t woken up. She hasn’t.

Returning to your room, you see that you’ve left your laptop open and your books are still scattered about the desk. Taking one look at the half finished homework, you close the laptop and stash it away into your backpack. “That’s enough of that,” you mutter under your breath.

Stripping and getting dressed again for bed, you crawl in under the covers and settle down for the night. Turning over onto your side you see the curtains in The corner of your room flutter as though there was a light breeze, it’s then that you notice the window cracked open a few inches. “Fuck me…”

Feet meeting the cold floor you scuttle across the room and close the window completely, good and tight. Hopping back into the warmth of the various layers of quilt and blankets, you’re asleep as soon as you close your eyes.

The days in the valley town turn to weeks with nothing strange or startling to really speak of. You seem to be getting more forgetful lately. Your things are seemingly shifting about your room. You’re probably just being silly and misplacing things, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

The high school lacrosse season has started and Abby had tried her best to rope you into joining the team, but with the absolute disaster that was tryouts you’ve come to the realization that sitting on the bleachers cheering on your friends (new and old) is definitely the best place for you.

Abby had let little tidbits of information slip, about how Owen was her ex and left her for Mel and how she’d later come out as bisexual as a result of the relationship disintegrating. The confirmation that she was into girls had you internally kicking your feet, punching your fists and screaming until your throat was so raw that it could bleed, but you decidedly keep that to yourself. The little crush that had completely taken over your mind, Abby crawling into every little crevice that wasn’t taken up by school or the various relationships you’d been establishing or reestablishing.

You’d grown close to Dina again, her boyfriend Jesse by extension. Dina is… talkative to say the least, occupying most of your AP math class with her chittering, and you’re yet to meet this elusive Ellie you’ve heard so much about from her venting and seemingly never ending gossip. From ‘oh my god! Ellie and Cat from S-3? They kind of had a huge argument-’ to ‘Ellie is ditching class again, I’m surprised she hasn’t been kicked outta here by now, that’s what happened to her back in Boston!’ Based on what you’d heard, Ellie could only be described as a badass juvie escapist. And that’s how you’ve come to be sat in Jackson’s only diner, The Clay Pit BBQ, on a Friday evening after school waiting for ‘Ellie’ and Jesse to show up.

Dina sits across from you in the booth as you take in the cringe worthy old western themeing that seems as though it was plucked from a young child’s bedroom or a roadside tourist trap. A milkshake is sat in front of Dina with her admitting to herself more than saying to you, “I really shouldn’t be having this… lactose intolerance is a big thing with my family,” you nod at her more to quell her than to actually provide any opinion on her predicament, while a large cup of water and a plate of fries in front you. You both thank the waitress and begin to eat until a cough and playful punch lands on your shoulder. Jesse. You scooch further into the booth, the old faux leather squeaking underneath your movement. But as you turn to look at the others it’s not Jesse that’s sat beside you but the ‘Williams’ girl. The one that had returned your pin and the dots line up in your head. Dina had always said about her ditching to go skateboarding, and under the table is the same longboard as she’d made her escape on weeks prior.

“Ellie, this is Y/n.”

Dina turns to you now, “Y/n, this is Ellie.”

The air fills with a heavy tension, Dina and Jesse both look between the two of you and to each other as though having a silent conversation while Ellie keeps looking at you, as though trying to read you. Green eyes meeting your own eyes with such intensity that a heat begins to spread up your neck and it takes Jesse kicking the auburn haired girl and jolting her out of her trance-like state before she sticks out her hand. “Hi?”

‘Is that all she’s going to say’, you think to yourself as a laugh escapes your lips outwardly and you shake her hand. “Hi.”

Ellie doesn’t eat much but orders an apple cobbler and attempts to make small talk, despite the encounter starting off stale and almost jumpy as the ice breaks you find yourself relaxing into her company as though you’d known her as long and as well as you had the other pair, but you can’t seem to shake a niggling at the back of your mind that there was something off about Ellie Williams.

As the evening continues you settle into a comfortable chit chat, and discuss this and that, what’s there and what’s not. Everything under the sun. Until the waitress from before approaches your table to tell you that they’re closing up for the night and you gather your bits and ready yourselves to leave. As you stand outside the diner, you realize that your phone had died and with the only way to contact your mom dead as a doornail, Jesse asks you something you hadn’t planned for, “How’re you getting home?” You give a huff of frustration and shrug your shoulders, “I’ll walk it’s only a half hour anyways, I can take a shortcut through the woods. Dina pops her head from around Jesse's side and pipes up, “Are you sure, I can’t carry everyone but Jesse can walk home if you want to get on?”

“No I’m fine, genuinely! Besides, you both live on the other side of town.”

Ellie shuffles her way from inside to stand beside you.

“I can walk her home.”

“But Els, you live-”

“Dee. I’ll walk her home.”

Sensing the finality in Ellie’s tone and probably wanting to avoid being the cause of a scene, Jesse and Dina hop onto her minty vespa scooter, and the tall boy waves a long limb as they pull out of the street and down the road out east.

“Ellie. I appreciate the sentiment but I think a bit of alone time would be good for me?” You tell her, its the honest truth but not the whole truth. Internally you’re screaming. ‘Why would she do that? Dina said Ellie lived near her. Why would she offer to walk you in the completely opposite direction to where she needed to go?’

“Oh…” She looks disappointed but quickly fixes her face, “I- I guess I’ll see you round then?”

“Yeah, see you at school?” She lets go a small smile at your good natured teasing.

“Yeah…”

You part ways as she sets off on her skateboard, quickly picking up speed as she propels herself forward, following the same road as Dina and Jesse had just gone down. In a flash of flannel and beaten converse, she’s gone and you start the trek home.

The late evening twilight turns to night it seems as you set off and you are left with a predicament. Either brave the dark of the woods and be home fifteen minutes faster, or take the long way round and stay in the safety of the luminous orange of the streetlights… Taking one look at the storm clouds beginning to form in the western sky, you quickly make up your mind. Woods it is.

Pulling the purple hood up over your head as the occasional spitting of raindrops turns into a gentle pouring, getting past the small saplings and shrubs that make up the treeline you breathe out a sigh of relief at the umbrella provided by the canopy of the tall ancient pines. A thick, choking mist is rolling in, concealing the ground from your vision. The trek is tedious, those people that came before you and also opted for your choice of the protection of the trees have left a somewhat easily traversable path between the roots. The silence of your surroundings that during the day would be comforting is anything but as full darkness takes hold. The only sound is the trodding of your feet against pebbles, leaves and twigs. The half moon peeks out from the clouds occasionally amid the rain, the slivers of light it gives off let you know you're still on the right path and spur you onward.

Snap.

Loud and clear.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

The cracking rings out over the pitter patter of rain on the leafy surroundings.

It’s what causes silence to break and it dawns on you why the woods had been so silent before. They were afraid. The birds, the deer, and the elk. The moose, the eagles, and horses. They were all afraid. And doing their best to stay out of the way of the local apex predator. You had walked head first into the lion's den. Panic sets in as you pick up speed, feet propelling you forward over tree roots and through branches.

Run.

You have to run.

As you run the backpack on your shoulders jostles around, keyrings making clinking sounds with each step. Another creaking noise pulls your attention back towards your surroundings as you attempt to focus on something aside from your labored breaths and the blood thundering in your ears. The same sound comes from behind you again. “Fuck.” It sounded closer than before, ‘where’s it coming from… holy shit… I’m not ready to die…’ Fear has you whipping your head around to the direction you think the sound had originally come from. You hear a follow up rustle as if it knows what you’re thinking. ‘Shit.’

You feel like an antelope in a nature documentary. Meager, mortal prey for a wild, powerful, immortal predator. All common sense is thrown out a shattered window, basic human necessity drives you. The animalistic need to escape courses through you. Instead of sticking to the path, you run straight. Jumping over logs, and avoiding puddles. Your sneakers are going to be destroyed, your hoodie is flailing about as your arms pump back and forth. A glimmer of hope in the darkness appears ahead as the rows of trees begin to thin, the tawny light of a streetlamp. Through the rain and the mist it’s hard to determine the exact distance left, the orange tones bleeding through the weather like paint through a cup of water. The trees are skinny and short, saplings and bushes as the ground turns to soft green grass beneath your feet, you don’t stop until your feet hit hard tar. A road now under your feet.

Your legs burn, your head is light.

The glow of the streetlamp above you fills you with warmth as the adrenaline fizzes out and your breath comes back to you. Lungfulls of damp, cold air rake through your chest.

Just letting the relief flood your mind, you feel the warmth of big wet crocodile tears tracing down your cheeks. You remain unmoving as the rain continues to soak you, you haven’t felt more alive than at this moment in an exceedingly long time. The surreal nature of your escape has you standing in the middle of the road, head reeling. As you close your eyes and take another deep breath, you fail to see the lights coming around the corner.

Your ears hurt before anything else does, the screeching of rubber on tar. Cold metal throws you several yards, searing pain in your shoulder, up your neck, and down your side. Above you is a girl. The light above her head like a halo is the last thing you see as you collapse in her arms.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first proper chapter, I wanted to keep it a little longer but felt that this was the best place to cut it off.

If you wanna be added to/removed from either my TLOU tag list or the tag list for this series (FITD) drop me a message!

Tag list: @moonlightdivine @hi2647 @jasmine-gazaille @mortallyfurryjellyfish @soft-and-lush @viswifetotallyreal @chrry1ovr @paleidiot @sawaagyapong @macaroni676 @godswlwwarrior

[mikhailwrites]

Time permitting / Ghost x Soap

Obligatory MWIII fixit fic. Written partially overnight and partially on the phone, sorry for the typos and grammar butchery.

⚠️MWIII spoilers!

They stumble out of the tunnel, exhausted, bruised, shot. Soap is limping by Simon’s side, leaning heavily against the other man. His left temple is covered in blood, dripping down, staining his tee.

Price and Gaz flank them, making sure that nothing comes close to harming either of them. They’re all quiet but it’s not really due to the exhaustion. The reality caught up to them. Konni. Makarov. The bomb. How close they were to a global catastrophe. Too close. Of course, if they didn’t manage to stop it, they wouldn’t be around to witness the fallout, but that’s hardly the point.

Still, it weighs heavily on all of them. On Ghost even more, perhaps. Because he came so close to losing Johnny.

Swing left, pull the trigger, compensate for the recoil, push ahead, sweep the possible cover for any hostiles. He feels Gaz on his Six, covering the right and the back as they hurry up. Price’s voice in the comm sounded urgent. He needs them.

His mind is clear and cold. He kills and kills and kills, trying to be faster while maintaining high vigilance. Simon is needed, but dead or injured would be useless. He needs to be perfect. Fast, accurate, merciless.

Heavily armoured Konni soldier waits on top of the stairs, opening fire as soon as Ghost and Gaz walk close enough.

“Fuck! Taking effective fire! Taking cover!” Ghost hollers over his shoulder as he rushes to the nearest corner. A few bullets hit him in the vest, knocking the wind out of him for a moment. Ghost waits a few seconds, listens for movement to guide him. There! Heavy footsteps on the metal stairs. The guy decided to get up close and personal, then. Good.

Because Gaz loves being close and personal with a shotgun. Point blank range renders the armour effectively useless. “Bloody good job!” Ghost nods to Gaz as the soldier falls to the ground. They make further progress but something’s off. Then he realises what it is. “You’ve got Makarov closing in on you!”

They must be close now, Ghost can hear the racket of firefight.

The moment he turns corner just after they dusted another three Tangos, his blood freezes in his veins. Makarov has a headstart. He’s closing in on Johnny who is too bloody focused on the bomb to notice. Ghost watches as that son of a bitch aims the gun, right at Johnny and takes the shot. Johnny falls to the ground. It’s like watching it in slow motion.

Ghost wants to scream. He wants to rip Makarov’s throat out with his bare hands. Instead, he takes a deep breath, pushing the stock of the rifle into his shoulder. It’ll bruise. Who gives a damn?

He doesn’t have any scope on the gun, he’ll have to make do. There’s simply no other option. Taking a deep breath, his focus tunes out anything other than the black-clad man in front of him. Simon squeezes the trigger half-way, making a final adjustment, then he takes the shot just as Makarov steps on Price.

It echoes through the tunnel like a crack of thunder. There’s a splash of red right before Makarov stumbles and falls to the ground. Ghost doesn’t have to say anything, Gaz immediately runs up to confirm the kill. Ghost runs to Johnny, sliding by his side, and frantically checking for pulse. It’s there, thank god. Then he goes on to check for the injury. Makarov must’ve hit him, the only question is where.

Gingerly turning Soap’s head where he sees blood, there’s only a graze. Fuckin’ Christ, that’s beyond lucky, that’ miraculous.

Sure enough, Johnny’s eyes open and he shots right back up. Ghost grabs him before he can stand, however. “It’s fine, it’s fine... he’s dead,” Ghost calms him down, patting him on the thigh and resting his hand there. His heart is clenching at the bewildered look in those blue eyes. Soap looks around, stopping at Makarov’s body. Just a few feet away.

Soap and Price are just standing from the bomb after they managed to defuse it. The One-Four-One did it. They stopped Makarov. Fucking heroes. Not that anyone will ever know.

“…mon… Simon?” someone summons him back into present. Johnny. Looking at him with a frown. Simon’s breath hitches. He was so close to losing him. Seconds, even. “You with us, Ghost?” Johnny smiles then. It’s weak, a mere shadow of the true smile Soap usually wears, but it still warms Ghost.

“Solid copy,” he nods.

“Good. We were just thinking about some food. I’m fuckin’ starvin’!”

Simon looks around at Price who doesn’t say or do anything and Gaz who only shrugs in response. “Yeah, sure.”

Soap is admitted to the hospital right after their meal. He insists that he’s alright but his balance is off and as lucky as he was, that wound on his head needs stitches.

However, when Price and Gaz leaves, Ghost stays. Pulling up a chair and sitting next to Johnny’s bed. The urge to hold his hand is strong and Simon is too tired to fight it.

Soap’s palm is warm and as soon as he feels Simon’s hand, he holds on it tight. “What a day, huh?” Johnny says, quiet, sombre.

“Yeah,” Ghost agrees. He feels something shift in the air. He needs to get something off his chest. Something that almost suffocated him in that tunnel. The regret. The prospect of not only losing Johnny, but losing him without ever telling him what he means to Simon. How important he is. How loved he is.

“Don’t you dare to die on me, Johnny,” he looks up, studying Soap’s face as it morphs into a mild surprise and then something akin to melancholy. Simon isn’t finished. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it. It would break me.”

It’s not a confession, exactly, but it’s close. Close enough for Soap to get the hint, squeezing Simon’s hand harder. Then he tugs at it, urging Simon closer. Once he’s standing up from the chair and looming over Johnny, Soap beckons him closer still. Until they are almost touching. Until they are touching. Until they kiss.

It’s a quiet moment, and a gentle one. When they part, Johnny’s eyes are slightly unfocused and a small smile tugs at his lips. Simon feels greedy so he steal one more peck at his lips before slowly withdrawing.

“And wear a bloody helmet next time, Johnny,” Simon says then. It’s a joke but at the same time it’s not. For now, he is simply grateful that there will be a next time.

[elvensorceress]

listen

buck/eddie | rated: T | 3.5K | ao3 

Death isn’t usually loud. 

The things around it can be. Gunshots. Bombs. The screaming. Buildings collapsing. Wells collapsing. 

Thunder. 

But death itself is quiet. Final words, final breath, last goodbye, everything ending fading disappearing. 

He’s seen plenty of death. He’s watched someone he once loved more than anything die right in front of him, her body too broken to function any longer. 

He’s had panic attacks and breakdowns, and he’s been devastated and terrified, and he’s been certain with absolute clarity that he was in his own final moments. 

None of it feels like this. 

The others are loud. Frantic. Buck told him there are glass doors and they aren’t supposed to go beyond them, that he was taught they weren’t supposed to. But Buck has always been one to break all the rules. 

His sister is here. With their team, their family. Everyone is here now. There’s nothing more they can do but wait. But they’re loud anyway. They’re worried, crying, praying. 

Maybe he should be praying. 

Eddie often stays quiet, see. He’s not a man of many words. The ones he does say— he’d like to think he chooses them well. He’d like to think they have meaning and impact. Even if it’s just silly, playful, nonsensical, teasing. 

He hasn’t said enough words. 

He knew it when he was bleeding and dying and staring frozen at the man who was his only wish when he knew he would get nothing else from this life. He wanted Buck’s arms around him when he died. That was all he wanted. All he could possibly ask for at the end. 

Buck isn’t in his arms. He can’t die because Eddie couldn’t hold him. He can’t die because Eddie needs him and can’t reach him. He can never reach. Buck was tethered to life by a single safety line. 

Maybe Eddie is, too. Because he’s quiet now. He can inhale, and exhale, and somewhere his heart is still beating. He’s still alive somewhere. Eddie can feel it like the magnitude of an ocean cut down to a single wave. But the wave is still washing through him. It’s still pulsing in his chest. 

His hands are trembling. In a way they never do. He’s steady and level. Expertly trainedbrainwashedtaught not to react in situations like this. Maybe his body doesn’t remember. Maybe it never knew exactly how to react to death, to a life with Ana, to his son’s fear, to losing everyone he served with. 

It doesn’t know how to react to Buck. 

It never has. 

His blood pours and it covers him. His skin craves but it burns, too. His hands ache to comfort, support, caress, feel. His body wants to feel. His whole entire being wants to feel. And then he thinks about the hand that pulled him from death being the thing that molds to his own flesh muscle bones and brings him back to life. He thinks of the way a smile lights up Buck’s whole face and how his mouth would feel, how his lips would feel pressed to Eddie’s. 

People say love can be physical through touch. Through embraces and kisses and reminders of connection. Through the heat of friction, the taste of someone else’s breath, the fluids of the body, the shared need and wash of happy chemicals that trigger pleasure. 

He never really thinks about the physicality of love. Not in that way. Eddie thinks of how he’d break and bleed and sacrifice and take any pain, any recovery to keep him safe. To keep him alive. 

How it’s reciprocal, synchronized. His heart beats a matching rhythm. The contraction, the release, the rushing, the flooding. 

It’s the only thing that’s loud. It’s the only thing he can hear. 

He’s alone. Somewhere in a hospital. Because Buck is in this hospital. But his heart is still beating. It hasn’t been strangled. It hasn’t been shocked out of synchronicity. 

When they tell him he’s sleeping, he’s knows it’s not really sleeping. 

He’s very still and pale. Pink lips are blue and pink skin is purple. But he breathes. 

Eddie rests a hand on his chest and he can feel it. The slow movement of air, the oxygen that will keep his body alive. The beat of his own heart echoing within Buck’s chest. It’s loud and it should be. Nothing should ever be quiet again. 

There are words he needs to say. He’s screamed all of them in a desperate exclamation, in his chosen name, but Eddie needs to scream them all over again. 

He needs the whole universe to listen. And give him back. 

(read ch 2 on ao3)

[yuuxhan]

A distant storm

(A Venti angst + reversed comfort fic (you helping venti))

It had been a long day for you and venti, a long day full of commissions together and exploring some of old Mondstadt’s history in stromterror. But now it was late afternoon and the both of you were getting ready for bed, the sun had set, casting a warm dark blue glow in the sky. Ever since you met him, you found him asleep on the streets like an old bum and invited him to stay with you after getting to know eachother better. By now, Venti was one of your close friends, close enough to be meeting each day and doing everything together. He loved your presence, it was so warm and inviting.. and having someone as playful and outgoing as him really brightened your day.. you both never failed to put a smile on each others faces.

Tonight was just another night, the both of you layed in bed, too awkward enough to cuddle as yet but you liked to hold hands from far away.. or even play with the bard’s pretty blue hair while he layed there. The sheets felt so warm and comforting, the silence filled the room, undisturbed other than venti’s laughs as you spoke with him from under the sheets. That night was so pure and full of warmth, the sky outside remained dim from the moonlight that peeked in from the windows.. eventually letting the two of you fall asleep together in a peaceful sleep.

Hours passed and it was now midnight, the both of you remained asleep through the night.. although.. outside, the storm clouds started to gather, and eventually the rain started coming down. The storm grew stronger with every passing minute, eventually waking you up from your slumber to rattling windows from the breeze trying to push its way in. You sat up on the bed, tired as you were, it was fast to kick in that tonight would be a stormy one. You got up carefully, trying not to disturb venti as you got up and went to the window, making sure it was locked. You ended up going around the house after looking outside for a moment, locking up and making sure everything was secure in your little home. The last window being the one to the backyard, you peered outside and saw the lighting striking in the distance, getting closer and closer as the rain began to beat down on the roof, a terrifying sound to those of small. By the time you secured that window and went back in the room, the thunder was as loud as ever now.. sounding like it was right above you.

The sounds made you jump as you entered the room, relaxing a moment later as you saw the bard still asleep. You made your way to the bed, getting in as slowly as you could to not wake venti, you got under the sheets and layed there again, with your back to the window. But you could still hear the shaking of the windows and the trees being shook angrily outside, the wind howling through the tiles of the roof making an eerie sound along with the thunder. The storm grew even louder… even when you think it couldn’t anymore.. and then.. a sudden bright flash lit up the room, followed by a loud bang that sounded like a bomb went off in your ear. You jumped and sat up, noticing that venti got jolted awake as well. His eyes were wide and he looked panicked and suddenly terrified of the sounds. His eyes glancing around the room in a frantic state before looking at you, staring.

Your eyes went to the window and then back to him, noticing his panicked state. “Oh dear.. you’re awake..” you spoke in a worried tone, though frightened as you were, you figured that the lightning must’ve hit something close to your home.. and you wanted to investigate just to make sure everything was okay. But your eyes were only focused on the bard as he started shaking on the bed, his eyes still wide in a terrified state and he started at you like he was asking for help. You couldn’t help but to reach out to him, pulling him into a hug to where he grabbed onto you, clinging for any comfort you could give him. “Hey.. it’s alright, it’s just a little bit of thunder.. it’ll go away.” You tried to reassure him, and it worked.. your words got to him and his eyes shut tightly. He was still shaking but he looked to calm down a bit from your touch and your words, breathing into your shoulder with a gasp. He felt embarrassed to need such comfort for something so common, especially being a god, he’d expect himself to be mighty and strong as they all say.. but no.

Feeling him calmed down, you sighed in relief and slowly departed from his arms, letting go of him and holding his shoulders in your hands. You decided he was alright now and you were able to check on the backyard. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You said with a warm smile on your face before getting up from the bed. The bard on the other hand, his heart dropped and he started to panic again from the though of being alone again. As you took a few steps away, he grabbed your arm, causing you to stop in your tracks, almost falling but you managed to catch yourself. “Venti..” you turned back to him. His heartbeat was going a million miles a minute and his shaking increased greatly once more. You could feel how much he was shaking from his tight grip on your arm, he was not going to let you go. His green eyes were watering now, matching the sky outside and he was breathing heavy. The both of you stood there for a moment, every flash of lightning sent a shiver down his spine. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack, but he was silent.. a silent plea that screamed for you to stay. He looked like a child, so small and fragile.. if you were to leave, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

You sighed, his expression made your heart break, you’ve never seen him look like this.. ever. Your hand went on his back and you lead him back to the bed, but the god’s knees buckled.. he couldn’t move and he fell to his knees. The overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety made him suddenly scream out in terror, his body was shaking so violently as he held himself up on the floor, but even his arm couldn’t hold him up and he went into a fetal position. By this time you had kneeled on the ground, completely stunned from how terrified he was of just some thunder. His blue hair glow in the dark, brightening the room from the emotions he felt.. but then out of nowhere he felt arms around him.. and your scent coming closer into a hug. You pulled him up onto your lap, holding him like you would to a child and lifting him back on the bed with you.

His arms gripped you tightly, hugging you with all the strength he had, you could feel how heavy and fast his heart was pounding from being so close to his chest. He screamed and cried into your shoulder, a bit of wind started blowing in the room from his overwhelming powers. You held him, frantically looking around for something to calm him, but then you got an idea while staring at the blanket. You took it and wrapped it around you two, creating a small cave-like fort to surround you two in darkness, only leaving a small opening to the outside in front of you for air. Venti’s eyes opened from the sudden darkness, noticing it completely dark now, but his nose got filled with your scent quite quickly.. your heat radiating in the sheets while you held him calmed him for a moment. The wind he created, ceased and his hair got darker, indicating he was slowly calming down.

Venti buried his face in your shoulder, sobbing into it. But now that you two were so close, you could feel how much he was shaking, trembling, it felt like he could move the whole bed. He was traumatized, but his body begun to relax as you held him in the blanket cave, your scent being as calming as it always was for him. You started whispering calming words of comfort to him while your hand softly rubbed his back in small circles. “It’s okay now, Ven. You’re safe with me.. I’ve got you..” you kept repeating. And after a few moments, your voice calmed his sobs which now turned into whimpers. You let your voice begin to hum, singing a relaxing tune near his ears in a whisper.. you knew he loved music, and especially from you.

The song went on for a few minutes, venti could still see the lightning outside as it made him jump again but your voice filled his ears and drowned out the sound of the thunder. Soon enough his shaking and trembling came to a stop but his grip on you remained. The storm outside was still strong but getting quieter every couple minutes, leaving venti sniffling and hiccuping into your shoulder. And eventually.. with your words, your touch, your scent.. it calmed his heart and he now lay limp in your arms, asleep like a baby clinging to his mother. You were his best friend, his protector, his favorite person, the one who brought a god comfort during his time of need.. and he couldn’t be more grateful for you.

The end!!

I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!! 🧸💕

(I apologize if there’s any spelling mistakes 😭 I made this in a hurry lolol)

[pin-crusher2000]

Injustice: SuperMoves

Here’s the supermoves that I have come up with for the characters of Earth-66.

FireWing (Jake Grayson)

StarBolt Fist: does a short range StarBolt “shockwave blast” stunning the opponent to start it. Jake then throws a smoke bomb in their face to distract them & then does the spilts & punches them in the crotch, causing the opponent to hold that area. Jake does a backwards roll back onto his feet, charges up a StarBolt & runs & punches the opponent causing a green explosion.

NightStar (Mar’i Grayson)

StarBolt Fury: Mar’i flys at the opponent with a double fist punch. She then uppercuts the opponent, sending them to space & mar’i unleashes some starbolts at them. After that, she quickly fly past the opponent & charges up a StarBolt in her hand & presses the energy ball into her opponent sending them back down to earth.

ThunderHeart (Irey West)

Better than the West: Irey shoulder charges her opponent. She then strikes her opponent multiple times with her super speed, & the camera gets real close to the opponent’s face, & on the side shows Irey’s. Irey then gives the opponent a wedgie, & she giggles.

Surge (Jai West)

Here comes the Boom: Jai unleashes lighting onto the ground to hit the opponent. He then rubs his hands together really fast to create electricity & starts thunderclapping at the opponent saying: you’ll get a thunderclap!

WonderBoy (Robert Long)

Bring the Thunder: Robert does a dashing slash at the opponent. Robert then gains blue electric hair & eyes & tackles the opponent (raiden’s move from MK) & flys them into the air. He quickly moves above his opponent & says: “Thunder!” A lightning strike hits the opponent & sends them back to the ground.

Red Cat (Lian Harper)

Bow-and-Baton: Lian does a baton spin at the opponent. Lian shoots a boxing glove arrow at the opponent’s face, sending them onto their back, & Lian gets on top of them & starts hitting them with her baton. (Yup that’s it XD)

Kid Tempest (Cerdian)

Purple Pain: Cerdian launches a water ball at the opponent. Cerdian shoots fire at the opponent, knocking them on their back, he then jumps up into the air & shoots purple laser beams causing an explosion.

SunSlinger (Jon Kent)

Sun-Noon: Jon does a super/freeze breath at the opponent. Jon whips out his revolvers, twirls them & aims the opponent, (camera shirts to fps) Jon moves the gun & shoots the opponent: foot, knee, & shoulder, knocking them onto their back. Jon then superleap towards them & charges up his gun & launches two shots at them causing an explosion.

Robin V (Damian Wayne)

Lazarus Assassin: pretty much Damian’s super move from injustice 2 but with a green aura around him XD

WonderLad (Hunter Trevor)

Pretty much the same as Robert’s but red/orange; god of war mode. Shouts War & a meteor hits his opponent.

AquaBoy (Arthur Curry Jr.)

Pretty much Aquaman’s super move from injustice 2 but with a megaldon shark instead.

HawkBoy (Hector Hall)

Sky Hawk: Hector does a downward slam with his mace, hitting the opponent. Hector grabs the opponent & takes them to the sky, & starts hitting them with his mace in different directions. (hawk girls super move from injustice)

Green Canary (Connor Lance Queen)

The Green Canary (XD): Connor does a short burst canary cry & hits the opponent. Connor shoots a bomb arrow into the sky & another at the opponent knocking them on their back, connor then uses the canary cry on top of the opponent & then jumps away to safety when the other bomb arrow comes down to hit the opponent causing an explosion.

PhantomWing (Chris Kent)

The Nightwing: Chris does a short burst heat vision that hits the opponent. Chris then wraps his opponent’s legs with his dark powers & slams them on the ground behind him & back in front of him. Chris flys into the air & summons the NightWing entity & it shoots out a giant blue & black ball of “dark flames” at the opponent causing a blue explosion.

StarChild (Otho-Ra)

Star Wrath: Otho-Ra does a flying blue energy “Superman punch” hitting the opponent. Otho then summons a blue energy sword & a shield that’s in an S symbol shape & begins to attack the opponent with them. After shield bashing her opponent, knocking them fall on their back, she jumps up into the air & shoots out blue heat vision at the opponent causing an explosion.

Red Son (Osul-Ra)

Fight Master Fury: Osul-Ra does a flying red energy “Superman punch” hitting the opponent. Osul-Ra summons a red energy battle axe & begins hacking at the opponent. After the final hit, the opponent is laying down on their back & Osul jumped into the air & slammed the battle axe onto the opponent, causing a red explosion.

Valor (Connor Kent)

Brave Rage: connor does a short range telekinetic blast & hits the opponent. Connor then grabs the opponent & flys to the glaciers & slams the opponent into it, & starts rapidly punch the opponent as fast as he can. He then finishes the beat down with a blast of heat vision causing an explosion. (The beat down at the glacier is from the tv series Young Justice where superboy beats down mammoth.)

Animal Girl (Maxine Baker)

Red Rage: just cheetah/vixen’s super move from injustice 2 but with a red energy glow around her.

Animal Boy (Clifford Baker)

Same as his sister’s.

Red Bird (Mara Al Ghul)

Demon Assassin: pretty much just like Damian’s but with a red aura.

Nobody (Maya Ducard)

Nobody Assault: Maya does a short burst Sonic blast at the opponent. Maya takes out a sword & starts slashing the opponent, & then turns invisible. The camera shifts towards the opponent & shows Maya behind them. She then kicks the opponent in the crotch, dropping them to their knees & Sonic blasts between their head. (One hand on one side & another hand on the other side.)

Beacon (Kathy Branden)

Purple-Telekinetic: Kathy does a short range telekinetic blast to hit the opponent. She then lifts & throws the opponent into the air (with the background changing to a farm) & quickly flys above the opponent & blasts them down. Kathy then does a massive shockwave released from her Body.

Crowly (Colin Wilkes)

Pretty much his “punch fatality” from the mortal kombat post of mine except more kid friendly. (He does get big & grabs the opponent & “super-punches” them across the screen to start it.)

FlameBird (Suren Darga)

Flaming FlameBird (XD): Suren does a short range fire blast at the opponent. Suren “summons” the FlameBird & they both grab the opponent & fly up into the air, the FlameBird does a pose in front of the sun & then Suren does a energy wave sending the opponent to the ground with a FlameBird logo. (Think of Liu Kang’s dragon symbol after you preform his fatal blow from MK1)

[alicewritingstories]

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 4: Talus

~~Also on AO3~~

Prompts:

No. 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.” | Debris | Pinned Down | “It’s broken.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” | Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.” | Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer…”

Warnings: Bombs, drifting in and out of consciousness, injury

Central character(s): Hyrule, Wild

The plan, such as it was, had been good. Things had been quiet for a few days and Wild had suggested to Time that he should take the opportunity to go foraging and that maybe Hyrule should come along too. Time hadn't been fooled for a moment, but had chuckled and said that if Wild thought it was a good idea then he agreed; they'd all meet in a couple of days at the Dueling Peaks stable. Wild and Hyrule had set out into the wide green countryside with all the excitement of exploration in their hearts, for all that Wild knew the area well. They were going to climb to the top of the Dueling Peaks, but there was no other solid plan; they would just see what they found.

They had found a talus.

An infected talus that sensed their approach from further away than Wild had expected and was far stronger and faster than it should have been.

"Wild, back!" yelled Hyrule, lighting the fuse on a bomb. He saw the flash of blue as Wild jumped off the talus' back and fled, sledgehammer in hand, then threw the bomb and ducked back behind a large rock. The explosion sent a gout of flame through the air and when Hyrule peeked out again the talus had slumped to the ground. Wild was leaping back up it. The gem deposit on its back was cracked but clearly not deeply damaged.

Hyrule swore. He only had a couple more bombs. Rock presumably wouldn't be affected by Thunder or one of his fire-based spells; he'd never asked Wild. It had to be bombs.

He needed a better angle.

He dashed for another large rock, already fishing out another bomb. He could hear the impact of sledgehammer on rock where Wild was unleashing one of his strongest spin attacks, surefooted on the moving stone under his feet.

Then he heard something else: Wild's voice ringing shrill and panicked: "'Rule!"

He looked up. The talus was drawing back one of its huge arms, ready to throw. He tried to run faster. Suddenly the rock he was aiming for looked very far away…

Something impacted his side and he cried out in shock, but realized it was Wild, leaping from the talus' back to tackle him out of the way. The debris of the talus' arm flew overhead as Hyrule rolled down the shallow slope.

As he finally managed to scrabble to a halt, he heard a horrible, ripping scream. He looked up. The talus had followed him. It was drawing back its remaining arm for another throw.

Wild was pinned under its bulk, one of its feet on his leg.

It shifted its weight to throw and Wild screamed again. The sound brought the world snapping back. Hyrule flattened himself on the ground and the arm once again flew overhead.

Every fiber of his body strained to go to Wild, but there was no point while the talus was alive. He snatched a power bracelet from his bag and slipped it on, then ran forward with his sword in one hand, snatching up Wild's dropped sledgehammer with the other. Now was a good time to find out if a fireball would hurt the talus. He begrudged the magic, but he wasn't a good enough climber or archer for another option.

He summoned a wave of magic, sending it down the blade of his sword, then swung it. The fireball seared off the end of the blade and hit the ore deposit squarely, sending the talus staggering to lie still for just long enough for Hyrule to spring up its back. He raised the sledgehammer, braced his feet, and started smashing with all the force of strength, magic, fury, and sheer desperation, gritting his teeth as shards scattered around him. The talus began to stir under him as he kept going, his muscles burning, panting for breath.

Then so suddenly it made him stumble, the deposit smashed apart. The talus dropped and dissolved into smoke in a final scatter of gemstones, sending Hyrule dropping to his hands and knees with bruising force.

There wasn't time to catch his breath; he scrambled up and half ran, half limped to Wild's side.

He'd been sure that the other teen had lost consciousness, but as he approached he saw that Wild's eyes were open, staring blankly across the rocky ground as his whole body heaved with great, sobbing gasps. He'd managed to get a potion out of his slate but it was spilled across the ground by his head, the empty bottle still clutched in his shaking hand.

Hyrule didn't even stop to speak to him; he skidded to his knees and laid his hands on Wild's shattered leg, immediately aware of the crushed bones, pooling blood, and lacerated muscles. Without proper healing Wild would never walk again.

Hyrule gritted his teeth. It wasn't the worst thing he'd had to heal.

Close, but not the worst.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain audible in every breath Wild took, he immersed himself in the magic, piecing together the scraps of bone, stopping the bleeding, patching the torn flesh.

He could feel the aching tremble in his own body that told him he was expending too much magic, but he kept going. Wild was in agony. He had to keep going.

He was starting to feel dizzy, but Wild's knee was so badly damaged that its pieces could hardly be distinguished from the rest of the broken bones. Hyrule gritted his teeth as he pulled tendons and ligaments back into place and reattached them, careful, delicate. A potion would probably do at this point, but they were rough and ready things. He could keep going a little longer.

He couldn't hear Wild's breathing any more, only the pounding of his own pulse. The tiny bones of Wild's ankle slid back into place. The fluid of the joint returned.

He felt like he was floating, only aware of the ripped holes left where stone had ground muscle on broken bone. One by one, as careful as Legend with a needle and thread, he put them back together. Good as new.

At last it was done.

It was done.

It was done…

~~~

Wild had been distantly aware of the pain fading, but his body was so filled with panic-laced adrenaline that for a moment that stretched out to an eternity he still couldn't move, trembling and weak, unable to get enough breath. He couldn't even see the sky overhead; his entire world had narrowed to the terrifying, alien wrongness of his ruined leg and the spasming, torturous pain flaying every scrap of thought from his mind.

He was only jarred back to full awareness as Hyrule collapsed into a limp heap on the ground beside him. Belatedly, he realized that the pain was completely gone. His leg was back to its proper shape.

Still, for a moment he couldn't bring himself to move it.

Get up! He needs you!

Wild looked at Hyrule lying beside him. His leg was fine. It was fine.

But just thinking about moving it made him feel sick.

Doesn't matter. He needs you. So what if it hurts? Get up!

He took another couple of deep breaths, trying to shove down the panic. He had to get up. He had to fight on. That was why he was alive. It didn't matter how much it hurt or how frightened he was; he had to fight on.

Another breath to brace himself and he shoved himself half upright.

Even though he knew his leg was healed, it was a surprise when the only pain came from his bruised back and chest.

He stayed propped up on his elbows for a moment, panting, then twisted round to check on Hyrule. The smaller hylian was limp, trembling and pale. Wild had seen him in this state once before and immediately reached for his slate even though he knew he didn't have a green potion. His heart jumped as he saw a stash of green bottles, but they were stamina elixirs; no help there. With a silent apology, he also dug in Hyrule's bag, but Hyrule didn't have one either, otherwise he presumably would have taken it rather than collapsing.

Wild looked again at his slate. Hyrule needed somewhere safe to rest. Dueling Peaks stable was right there with a shrine glowing beside it, but they were still figuring out the limits on his ability to take others with him when shrine-jumping. He didn't want to risk it with Hyrule in this condition.

Gradually, still very aware of his just-healed leg, he eased himself onto his knees beside Hyrule.

"Hyrule? Can you hear me?"

Hyrule groaned and his eyelids twitched, which was encouraging.

"OK… I'm going to carry you for a bit and then we'll head down to the stable. You'll be able to rest there."

Hyrule's eyelids twitched again. Wild took that as agreement and carefully gathered Hyrule up in his arms. He was too heavy to carry far, but Wild ignored the strain for now. He also ignored the scattered gems that he'd normally have picked up, setting off up the rocky slope towards the east. The faster he could get Hyrule to somewhere comfortable and safe, the better.

As he walked, Hyrule's trembling eased and he drifted into something that looked more like sleep. Wild let out a relieved huff of breath, trying to walk a little more steadily while still moving quickly.

By the time he reached cliffs he couldn't climb down with Hyrule in his arms, the sun was tilting to the west. He knelt down a little way from the cliff edge, laid Hyrule down, and rolled his shoulders to stretch, looking at the tall horse crest of the stable in the distance. Normally he'd think nothing of leaping off the cliff, unfurling his paraglider, and gliding down there, but he looked down at Hyrule lying propped up against his legs. He couldn't carry him and use the paraglider and he couldn't carry him and climb. He didn't want to ask any more of his brother after he'd just exhausted himself healing him, but there was only one thing for it.

"Hyrule?" He gently shook the smaller hylian's shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

He prayed Hyrule would wake up; he didn't know what he'd do if he didn't. He could probably improvise a harness of some sort and strap him to his back…

Fortunately, Hyrule stirred and his eyes drifted open.

"Hey…" Wild forced a smile at him. "Sorry to wake you."

"Wha's…"

"I need you to hold onto my back while we paraglide down this cliff."

Hyrule blinked at him vaguely, only half awake.

"That's all you have to do. Just hold on."

Hyrule nodded, his eyes drifting shut.

"Hey!" Wild shook him again. "You need to be awake. It's just a bit longer; we'll be down before you know it."

Hyrule nodded again and this time kept his eyes open, though Wild thought he was paler than before.

Wasting no more time, Wild lifted Hyrule onto his back, encouraging him to cling on with arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He could feel the tremble still there in Hyrule's limbs and wondered if he should try to strap him on after all, but decided that the important thing now was to move fast to get to the bottom of the cliff. In the time it took him to rig a harness, Hyrule might pass out again.

With a deep breath, more nervous than he'd been about a drop since the Great Plateau, he took a running jump over the edge and unfurled the paraglider.

The jerk as cloth caught air was so slight he normally never noticed it, but it was almost enough to dislodge Hyrule. For a heart-stopping moment his grip on Wild slipped, but then he managed to grab a handful of tunic and pull himself back into place. Wild took a strained breath, aware of his pulse hammering against the collar of his tunic where it was now pulled too tight.

Right. Time to lose height fast without his usual technique of free-falling and catching himself at the last moment.

"Just hold on," he said softly, partly to Hyrule and partly to himself; the additional weight was already starting to tell on him and he wished he'd taken one of the stamina elixirs. "That's all you have to do. Just hold on."

Carefully, he steered towards the stable, putting the paraglider into a shallow dive, trying to balance covering ground and avoiding any sudden jerks with making it to a safe height as soon as he could.

Hyrule was shaking with the effort of supporting his own weight. His breath against Wild's neck came quick and uneven.

Wild's overstrained arm muscles and injured back were screaming at him.

The change in his weight and balance made it hard to steer and judge his angle.

He really didn't want to re-break his leg on landing.

"Just hold on," Wild said again, keeping his voice steady and soothing with an effort, the way he'd heard Time and Warriors do. "Hold on, it'll be OK. We're almost there. Not much longer…"

He hit the ground too hard and stumbled to land face-down with Hyrule on top of him, but luckily the grass was soft and neither of them was hurt. Hyrule was conscious enough to realize they were on the ground and rolled off to land flat on his back, gasping and shaking.

"Good job," said Wild, kneeling up next to him and trying to hide his own tiredness. "Good… good job." He half-lifted Hyrule to prop him against his chest for a moment, catching his breath.

"Doesn't… count 's… first… p'ragl'dr…" mumbled Hyrule.

Wild laughed. "No, you should be properly awake for your first paraglider ride. Another time." He hugged Hyrule a little closer. "Thanks for healing me," he murmured.

Hyrule chuckled and tried vaguely to pat his shoulder, hitting him on the ear instead. "'s OK."

"You just rest. I'll get us to the stable."

"'K." Hyrule rested his head trustingly against Wild's chest, finally relaxing back into sleep. Wild licked his lips, eyed the long walk to the stable, and picked up his slate. No green potions, but he was determined that he had enough stamina elixirs to get them there.

[spacedoutman]

【𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 | 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙪】

(𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩)

Description: The world crumbled but their love stayed intact. Caught in a firefight over food, Paul's been shot. Does Ace have any hope of pulling him through or pulling through this at all?

♥ Paul Stanley x Ace Frehley

Note: The fuck? I actually have to copy these little formats from each of my fics and something stuck from Pygmalion I thought I fixed. I KNEW something was off sksk (it was also super late when I did this haha))

Warnings: Blood/Grief/Death

𝙖𝙤3

Paul slammed against the wall. The ground thundered like a volcano about to erupt. Gunshots jetted, cutting down overgrown vines like a saw. Paul’s heart drug a muffled beat. He took a shaky breath of the thick musty air through clenched teeth.

“Is e-everyone alright?”

Paul fought his head. It blurred. The faces around him, down, up or rushing across the decayed floor smeared. His world swayed like a tree in the wind. Frantic shouting clashed in his ear. Ace drug himself up by a string, staggering forward and hitting the wall beside someone else. Paul’s hand went white around the pistol—the other red.

He clenched his stomach. His blood pumped. It felt like he’d stuck his hand in a void. An even stream of blinding light bleached the building through the massive gap in the wall, somehow climbing over the buildings collapsed like dominoes and rubble-conquered streets. Ace tossed his arm out pistol in hand. He shot off a few rounds into the distant rubble or vivid blue sky outside.

Paul’s legs wobbled. Seeing something other than a bird or two after all these years would be nice.

“We’ve got to surrender.” A horrified voice grated Paul’s ears.

“T-This isn’t the end.”

Paul choked out. Paul.. choked out? His eyes shot wide. Ungodly wide. His breaths sped up. “We’ve got to eat.. what we came for..” Paul groaned. His legs turned to jello. He stumbled back. Every pinch of air in his lungs fled. He hit the rocks. Glass crunched. Everything waved in and out. Red burnt his eyelids. Singing birds soothed his mind like a lullaby before-

“Paul!”

A polished suburban house, surrounded by an ocean of green bathed by soft sunlight and a little American flag off the porch flashed. There was a grill on the lawn.

Paul smiled. His heart tried to flutter. His chest and throat loosened. A little more air slipped into his lungs. He curled into a tight ball. Two warm hands swept him up. Black took over his vision. Yelling boomed. Paul shut his eyes as tightly as possible. Echoes of pain crept through him distantly. Cool seeped through his bomber jacket.

Ace held it together.

“Y-You’re gonna’ be alright, Paul..” Pain grasped Ace’s shuddering voice like a lover.

“I’m.. I’m not. I know it.” His hand crawled onto Ace’s. “If those bombs go off.. all ten stories are going to collapse. You.. You can’t carry me out.” A bit of certainty spiked.

“Please.” Ace’s eyes shot wide, he quickly shook his head. “Don’t say that..”

“You can’t.. I’m dead.”

Ace grabbed Paul’s hand. Some feeling like vibrant colors exploded. Paul couldn’t help but to grin. “I love you.” He whispered, laying his head on Ace’s chest. The chaos around them died. Ace hugged him tightly, pulling him as close as possible. Tears poured down their faces like a river, soaking their shoulders.

Ace clutched him. He swallowed sobs. Paul took a deep breath, savoring the gentle homey smell clinging to Ace’s leather jacket. Iron coated his tongue.

“I’m not letting you go.” Ace forced strength into his voice. “I can’t.”

“But you gotta’ live..” Paul faded into murmurs.

“I swear to god—we’ll get out, I swear..!”

“You will.”

The suburban house flashed. Ace relaxed on the stairs, dressed in something clean with a grin shining on his bright face. Another person slammed into the heavy duty crates. Paul sunk into Ace. Ace shut his eyes as tight as he could. Paul’s limbs loosened in milliseconds. His smile spread into a grin.

“I always imagined us with kids..” Paul’s features softened. A little light sparked in his voice. “.. How many would you want?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“It’s gonna’ be okay, Ace.. you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Don’t talk like that. We..we still have a future.”

“Maybe in another life.”

“Paul?”

“Think of it..”

“Paul. We have people in the future waiting for us—w-who don’t even know our names!”

…

“Paul?”

[science-lings]

Bird?

One might say that it was cowardly to run away, and therefore it was something you'd never see a group of legendary heroes do. In all fairness, it was a rare sight, but this was one of those times that they had found themselves severely underprepared and willing to make a tactical and speedy retreat.

Slower members of the chain had used or borrowed speed-enhancing items, leading to the fact that their leader was wearing bunny ears and Four, who had broken his ankle, was riding on Wolfie's back, gripping his fur as hard as he could.

If they weren't so out of breath, Wild was sure some of them would be screaming.

Even with items and Wild handing Sky a stamina potion every so often, the thundering footsteps only grew nearer. The colorful curses that Legend was muttering under his breath were slowly getting louder.

They stumbled over a natural stone bridge, not a single one of them noticing how the rock started to crumble beneath them and how high up they were.

Actually, Hyrule noticed and in his moment of hesitation, was scooped up by Warriors, wasting little time in their strategic withdrawal.

Thankfully they all made it to the other side of the bridge in one piece, unfortunately at the end of the bridge lay only cliffs that would take far too long to climb in their hurry. It was functionally a dead end. A dead end that Legend slammed face-first into as he failed to slide to a stop in his pegasus boots.

"Ah, come on!" the vet slammed his fist into the wall of tightly packed dirt.

"Well, it's been fun fighting with you boys..." Warriors sighed through shallow panting breaths, putting Four down to lean on the wall, but both of them were doing better than Time, who was hunched over with his hands resting on his thighs, his hair splayed messily around, hiding his face.

"Fear not, dear heroes!" Wild announced, his uncharacteristically confident voice coupled with another. His eyes suddenly a shade of golden green. His smirk reminded Time of when Urbosa was being channeled through Wild's body, but this time there was no rage, just enough assuredness to his expression to toe the line of being pretentious.

"Your savior is here!" Wild posed with his hand resting on his chest with a limp wrist with its counterpart splayed dramatically outward.

Definitely pretentious.

The champion knelt on the ground with his arms open, facing downward, before quickly flexing his wrists up. A flicker of ghostly wings overlayed his arms for a moment before the air around them spun, and he shot upwards in a funnel of wind.

He spent a moment surveying the area, spotting the army of monsters that were in pursuit just filing onto the bridge and both Wild and Revali had an idea.

Time slowed around them as they pulled out their bow, one bomb arrow, two bomb arrows, three bomb arrows, four. That's when Wild stopped counting.

If there was one thing the two of them shared, it was their skill with a bow, especially in midair.

A dozen sequential explosions happened rapid-fire, and the bridge crumbled before a single monster could make it across, some even being blown back from the blasts. A few yelped as the rock disappeared beneath them, sending them plunging into the deep chasm.

Thankfully Revali remembered to pull out their paraglider before his melodramatic moment was ruined by them plummeting to the ground. He landed gracefully on the ground, facing away from most of the heroes.

"You're welcome." He turned his head ninety degrees to side-eye the rest of the chain, letting them witness his eyes fade from green back to their normal tropical sea blue.

"Did you get possessed by Warriors this time?" Legend commented.

"Hey! I'm not that bad!" The captain protested.

Wild only laughed, sparing a thought to genuinely thank Revali, even if he was a bit cocky about the stunt. He would never say it out loud though, even dead the bird didn't need to add to his mountain full of pride.

Send me prompts?

[teenagetreeherringparty]

Floras Spells

Disclaimer: My eyes have been opened by the people of this fandom and by Overly Sarcastic Productions that Flora needs to truly embody the feeling of Nature. Nature isn’t just plants it’s also the weather. But, it’s way harder than you think. I feel like she embodies mostly plants because they’re way easier to pull energy from and conjure than other things in nature. But I also think she'd be able to control air and storms a little. So, mostly plants for now.

Lavender Kiss: After creating a small ball of glowing lavender flowers in her hand, she breathes over it creating petals from it. As they spread over people they induce intense sleep.

Like this:

Autumn wind: creates a strong gust of wind sending enemies back. Like a vortex with autumn leaves

Rose of Preservation: she makes a giant blue rose. When she summons it; the flower basically envelops the person. She can make it float away from danger if someone is hurt and can also semi-heal them. But if it's like say anything more than a gash that needs stitches she can't do anything. Like anything fatal takes a lot.

Pollen Bomb: After conjuring unbloomed flowers, when they make contact with the opponent they immediately bloom and colored pollen comes from them. Blinding and making a mess of the opponent. (This was inspired by Isabela from Encanto)

Vine whip: a whip made out of the vine. She wraps it around people's arms, legs, wrists, etc. Then yerts them as far as she can.

Vine wrap: vines grow from the the ground wrapping around opponents arms

Rath of Poison Ivy: poison ivy wraps around opponents making them itch

Summer Shower Cleansing: I imagine she would mix this with fairy dust or maybe with a bit of healing magic and have little rain clouds over people in battle. Healing them of small injuries and slightly give them more energy. Or, this could be a convergence spell with Aisha with their fairy dust. Or this could be a spell she learns after gaining Enchantix

Summer Thunder: I feel like this spell would only happen if you pissed Flora off enough that nature reacts to it. Most likely only when she has Enchantix. She makes a thundercloud shocking the opponents.

Spring Ring: this is used to make things naturally grow faster. Like, let’s say that there was a forest fire. She would restore it. After conjuring over the area or plant things will immediately grow.

Ivy Fortress: made like an igloo made out of Ivy.

[ughthisisntright]

Puzzles & Pieces | Silco x Reader | Part 2

Summary: Jinx gives you more clues to the Silco puzzle. You realize you have to intervene somehow. You turn to an old friend.

Warnings: General Arcane warnings.

Word Count: 1,672

Next Part

______________________________________________________________

Jinx, as eccentric as she was, was nearly just as predictable as the weather patterns in the Undercity. She was promised as the mornings were, booming thunder and striking with lightning whenever she came around. There was never a doubt in anyone’s minds when she came around that she was meant to be the Eye of Zaun’s perfect daughter.

And so, when she came around you, you knew that the perfect way in which she meshed with Silco’s life would help you gather more details about the man you’d come to work for. The man you’d even come to admire.

The rain poured down hard as the young girl led, no dragged you to her workshop. Your feet only betrayed you a few times as she pulled you along. Fortunately her workshop was nearby. Anything to keep her close to her father.

“Okay,” she started with a hint of excitement. “I know you wanted me to give you some stories about Silco, but I have to show you the project I’ve been working on!” She bounded around her desk and all you could see was flashed of her blue hair, metal, and brightly colored chalk. She appeared to be drawing something.

“Well, you know I’m always up for seeing new things, Jinx,” you offered her a smile as she approached you with her hands behind her back.

“Ready?” She said with a grin.

“Ready.” Your smile never faltered, holding her gaze as she revealed what looked like a scale model of an airship. It had a crude drawing of a monkey on the side and her name signed on the side. That must have been what she was drawing. “What’s this for?”

She beamed and placed it down in your hands before scampering over to the other side of her workspace. She produced some blueprints.

“I stole the blueprints on how to make one of these things,” she explained. “Silco wants me to make one so we have some kind of arsenal against Topside! This one will be filled with my bombs. All set to trip if someone steps on the airship who isn’t supposed to be there-”

“Jinx,” you said softly. “Why would your father want to bolster our weaponry?” She gave you a funny look.

“Don’t you know?” She tilted her head. As you shook yours, she grinned again.

“He’s trying to free us!”

______________________________________________________________________

Your mind whirled and thundered with this new information. Silco was planning a revolution? You knew he was a revolutionary back when he was younger but you’d never considered he still had the same blood running through his veins at his age. You admired the idea of being free from Piltover, but the way in which he seemed to want to go about it was all wrong.

You had spent the afternoon with Jinx talking about this vision he had. Sure, you knew about his dream of an independent Zaun and the plans laid on the surface for how to achieve it. But now that you knew his true plan, you grew worried. And still, that ache in your chest perplexed you whenever you felt it.

“He always told me that you must be prepared to stop at nothing to become what your enemy fears,” Jinx had explained. “To do anything and everything to achieve real power.”

“But, won’t plunging Piltover and Zaun into war make things worse for us? Give them more reasons to push us down?” You had been trying your hardest to remain as neutral as you could. You just weren’t sure how to react to all of this.

“He says that these things are necessary for a change like this to happen,” she shrugged and turned back to her work. You quietly excused yourself after some more lighthearted small talk that Jinx was more than happy to participate in. You had to get upstairs and plan.

You simply wouldn’t let him hurl the city into war.

When you returned to Silco’s office, Sevika was stepping out with an irritated look on her face. She gave you a hard glare before huffing off down the stairs. You took the opportunity to walk back in and take your seat at your desk.

Silco never acknowledged you. It was as if what happened before you left was just in his imagination as he stared down at the papers in front of him. Did he ever take a real break?

Hours more went by in silence, the two  of you pouring into your work as the day dragged onward. You were spreading your time between filing things away as usual and devising a plan to help Silco achieve his goal without war. And you think you had it down.

The sound of him clearing his throat pulled you from your thoughts. He was standing by his beverage cart, pouring himself a whiskey. You looked back at his lanky figure and watched him pour the liquor with ease. You felt that same bit of satisfaction from before when he’d drank your cheap substitute. You had replaced the whiskey with his preferred brand since your research was complete. And once he took a sip without question, your hypothesis was confirmed - he really didn’t know the difference.

“You seem to be lost,” Silco hummed as he finished his sip. “You’re staring again.”

You shook your head and stood, walking to the wet bar and taking the whiskey from his hand.

“Not lost,” you said with a smile. “Just… Looking.” He eyed you up and down before taking another sip.

“Where did you go earlier?” How do you even tell him you were with his daughter?

“I was with Jinx,” you said softly. “She was showing me something she’d been working on. You should have seen her face, she was so excited.” You gave him a smile and wiped up some condensation off the top of the bar. 

“Oh?” His curiosity had been piqued. “And why did she show you?”

“We’ve been growing closer, sir, it’s only natural.” The narrowing of his eyes showed he didn’t believe you, but you weren’t even going to try and waste your breath convincing him. That would surely fuel his doubts more. You simply smiled a little wider and turned to walk back to your desk.

Until you felt a hand on your wrist, gripping firmly.

You turned and looked up at Silco whose face had hardened and he was studying you with that one gorgeous eye. The pounding in your chest resembled the rain that poured down outside - unceasing and obvious. He drew you in closer, his hand running up your forearm and then over your elbow. His fingers traced over your bicep and curled around your shoulder. You fought the shiver that ran down your spine and simply stared into his eyes, lips parted, and breathing becoming a touch heavier.

He took hold of the collar of your shirt between two of his slender fingers, rubbing it between them, before tracing lightly down to the first button you had buttoned. Bold, you thought. Your fingers twitched at your sides. You weren’t sure what to do with him staring you down like this. But you knew you didn’t mind it.

Then you recalled a particularly intimate moment the two of you had shared months ago. You’d mindlessly ran your hands down his chest and he’d actually sighed. A content sigh. So, just like back then, you placed one hand gingerly over his vested chest. You slid it slowly down the front of his body and stopped when you heard his breath hitch. Looking up at him again, you felt a surge of empowerment.

He set his glass of whiskey down and used his free hand to encircle your waist. He pulled you closer to him, looking all over your face for any signs of protest. He leaned a little closer, his own lips parted as he grew ever closer to yours. You let him close in on you and placed your other hand on his shoulder, the other still against his chest. He was so close, you could smell the whiskey on his breath and cologne on his neck. You were inches apart, just close enough to where if one of you leaned a hair more, you’d have your lips pressed together.

And just when he was about to do exactly that, he leaned in close to your ear and spoke in a low tone.

“Don’t make me regret hiring you, child,” he spoke directly against your ear, drawing your head against his and growling the words. He released you slowly as you nodded your head in silence. You watched as he picked up his glass and took another sip.

When he moved to release you, you took a couple of steps back. He smirked down at you before turning to step to the window. He looked out at the rain and the puddles it formed on the streets, all while there was a storm brewing inside as well.

You sank down into your chair when you’d finally stumbled back over to your desk. You swallowed hard and stared at his back while you regained your composure. You shook your head slightly before looking down at the paper in front of you. You’d been mapping out how to free the Undercity peacefully. It wouldn’t be long before tensions became too high and Silco decided enough was enough. He’d been patient for many years before this. You were sure it wouldn’t take much now.

You stared at the list you’d written for your plan. You trusted Silco as a leader, but you didn’t trust Piltover to fight fair and clean. You had to intervene, even if you were just a secretary. You scanned the page and your eyes fell to the list of people you knew that could be of some assistance. One name was written with several circles drawn around it; the catalyst to your plan, the one person who you knew could help prevent war between these two cities:

Jayce Talis.

[cheesus-doodles]

The Flag We Serve Under: Chapter 2

Yandere Azur Lane

Masterlist

‎‎

<< Chapter 1

thank you all for your interest and patience in this little series! I hope you enjoy!

The loud blare of your phone ringing nearly gave you a heart attack as it shocked you straight back into reality from what was an unusually restful sleep. Hands automatically shooting out in a blind attempt to grab at the offending object -  the same way you did every morning - though instead of finding yourself in the warm embrace of your comfortable bed, you tumbled out of your chair with a loud thud, a whirlwind of disturbed papers flying up from your desk and falling gracefully to the ground. “H-huh? What?” The warm wooden surfaces and neat shelves of books and files that surrounded you looked foreign to groggy eyes; where were you? Who were you?

For a moment, the world seemed restless, uneasy, before the next blare of your phone shook you from your trance-like state, and the memories came flooding back. Yes - you remembered now. The previous day's shenanigans at Naval HQ, sailing with Alabama across the deep blue open ocean for the first time in forever, watching the sun set below the horizon from the port window right above your desk; it seemed like you had once more managed to walk away from another counter with your commanding officer, though you had to admit you were definitely worse for the wear this time. 

Your phone protested again, the third insistent ring nudging you into finally picking up, the reluctance all the more clear when you noted it was that asshat of an officer you reported to whose name was plastered across your screen. “Hello?”

There was no greeting from the barking voice on the other end, instead just more orders, more work, handed down from the top and relayed through the small black phone. As expected. You automatically tuned most of the harsh words out as you usually do, focusing on the actual actions that you needed to take; yet as the voice kept coming, the sleepiness instantly drained from your mind, your eyebrows furrowing more and more with every word conveyed. None of this was good news, not at all. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was clear and firm even as your thoughts whirled. More girls being shifted under your command? The Sakura Empire asking to deal directly with you?

What on earth was going on?

“Make sure you don’t mess this up,” Your superior warned, but you could tell this was far more dire situation than any superficial paperwork disaster - the Sakura Empire had broken off from Azur Lane to pursue Siren technology by themselves after all, and neither you nor Naval HQ could tell what they wanted with you. One wrong step could bring the infighting to a whole new level. All you could do was bite your tongue - this wasn’t the right time nor the right person to ask the multitude of questions rushing through your thoughts. 

Yet there was one that you couldn’t resist asking, that no matter how much you tried to hold it down, it still managed to slip out almost unconsciously. “But sir, why now?” Why transfer more to your fleet when it was clear that the top dogs at HQ had not been particularly happy with your performance? Why did the Sakura Empire want to speak with you now? Why you? 

Your commanding officer went silent for a heartbeat, then two, with just the sound of his heavy breathing being picked up and transmitted; from a lack of a better answer or from the loaded question, you didn’t know. But before you could get your answer, your ears picked up the sound of footsteps - numerous sets, if you had to guess - thundering down the deck and growing louder as they approached your makeshift office. The thick bomb-proof steel door flew open with a bang, a toss of white hair swept back in her tailwind as Alabama rushed into the room, usually sleepy crimson eyes frantically scanning the small room, landing on you where you were still seated on the ground. “Commander! Are you okay? What happened?”

There was an instant blast of fresh salty air to your face that rushed through the open door. It was a shame that all the man on the other side of the ocean muttered was that he would ‘get you the information you needed’ before hanging up in a jiffy. Even if he was your superior and wasn’t afraid to treat you like dirt, you knew that most of the members of the staff at Naval HQ feared having to deal directly with the shipgirls, especially with Alabama in particular; the youngest of the Dakota-class sisters was notorious for her mood swings when it came to you after all. Tucking your work phone back into the pocket of your skirt, you gratefully accepted Alabama’s help to stand, straightening out your uniform once you were back on your own two feet right as Helena stepped cautiously through the doorway. “I’m fine. Thank you, Alabama, Helena. Just some morning grogginess.” 

Instead of settling your jumpy subordinates, it only seemed to arouse more suspicion in your tanned friend, red eyes narrowing at you. “Grogginess?” She repeated skeptically, her hand, twitching as if it was trying to resist grabbing you, instead disappearing inside her coat. “Like pregnancy grogginess?”

“No, no. Just awoken at the wrong time I suppose.” You patted your skirt where your phone was. “Duty calls.” You made a mental note to your future self to never find out how those under your charge would react if you actually got pregnant. Or if you ever had a boyfriend. Absolutely not.

Helena bent over to gingerly retrieve your cap, lightly dusting it off before handing it back to you. “Was it him?” She asked quietly, her blue hair still shimmering from salt crystals still clinging to individual strands - remnants of her time spent skating across the ocean. If you recall the schedule correctly, the Brooklyn-class cruiser must have rushed over right as her patrol ended.

“Unfortunately. On the bright side, I do have some updates. Could you gather everyone on the bridge in an hour please, Alabama?”

Said girl gave a curt nod, and you smiled in thanks. “Well in that case, I shall excuse myself back to my quarters.” But the crinkle of paper from the ground caught your attention once more, and you grimaced. You had completely forgotten about those; seems like your steaming shower and fresh uniform would have to wait a little longer.

‎‎

‎‎

“I wonder who is joining our fleet?” Aylwin wondered out loud as she lifted another spoonful of rice and vegetables to her mouth. Despite not having to eat food like you did, you had always insisted that the girls stick to a regular schedule and take a break during lunch time; whether they wanted to have something to munch on was something you left up to their decision, but you had always made food available for them. 

“Maybe we’ll meet some from other factions?” Baltimore suggested, which got a few nods from the eight shipgirls gathered around the table. “The Royal Navy and Dragon Empery are part of the Azur Lane too.” 

The mess hall aboard Alabama’s manifested ship was as worn as the rest of the ship, metal surfaces decorated with a generous litter of surface scratches from being thoroughly scrubbed clean countless numbers of times. Several pictures - of land and home and the vast ocean - decorated the walls, frames nailed firmly to keep them from moving as the ship cut through calm and rough waves alike. Several plates of food lined the center of the cloth-covered bench, a small luxury she knew that was allowed to them only while under your command; Alabama had heard enough of the horror stories from others suffering under less competent Commanders.

“I’m hoping it's the Grey Ghost,” Ranger leaned over the table, her volume dropping like she was . “Went on a mission with her previously before I was redeployed here, but never had a chance to sit and chat with her. She’s always so busy.”

But Alabama remained quiet, staring down at her cup of undrunk and rapidly cooling coffee and allowing the chatter to flow around and over her; she knew you better than the back of her own hand, and it was obvious that whatever that shithead of a commanding officer said to you, it wasn’t just to announce the expansion of your fleet. 

‎‎

Just thirty minutes prior, the eight of them hadn’t been seated casually around a dining table, instead having gathered on the bridge as per instructed. “Thank you all for gathering.” Standing at the head of the bridge, the endless sea glittered under the afternoon sun far below you outside the window, stretching out past the horizon like an enormous sequin blanket. “There’s been some news with regards to our fleet. Because of the increasing Siren threat in our sector and hence the expanding workload, word from Naval HQ is that we will have some new ships that will be joining our fleet.” You announced.

Excited whispers were instantly abound among the rest, but the tanned battleship’s slightly narrowed eyes were fixed on you and that soft smile you wore. It was just as it sounded: a mask that you put on in front of them. She could see it as clear as neon lights in the middle of the night on the empty ocean surface, even if you were trying your best to hide in the shadows that the sunlight cast. You always tried to physically hide when you had something to hide from there, from her; it was just the way you were after all.

“Do we know who’s joining?” Helena queried softly amidst the chaos, yet you still caught it regardless, smiling back at the blue-haired girl. 

“No information has been given on that, but I’ll give an update once Naval HQ comes back with more.”

Then you opened your mouth, as if to say more, only to snap it shut, your eyebrows furrowing - all quietly observed by Alabama. In a split second, it was gone, and taking a deep breath to compose yourself, she watched as your lips quirked up once more, your gaze lifting to meet theirs once more. The Commander mask was back on. “That’s all for now. You’re dismissed, please go have your break.”

You adjusted your cap, turning away to continue to pour over a map as your small fleet filed out, the thick steel door closing with a light thud behind them.

‎‎

And that was all. Were fresh faces really important enough to worth rudely waking you from your sleep and a personal call from that monkey brain of a commanding officer? Sure, with an expanding fleet meant new things to worry about, new people to keep at a distance from you, but… There was something else - more important, more urgent, more secretive - that you didn’t want to tell them, or that you couldn’t tell them about, and Alabama wasn’t having it. What if it was a threat to your safety? What if it got between you and her? What if it threatened her getting oathed to you? What if -

“Helloooo. Earth to Alabama.”

The white-haired battleship blinked, looking up from her cup, seven pairs of varied colored eyes looking curiously back at her. “...You alright?” Indianapolis piped up, blue and yellow heterochromatic eyes glancing her way. What if there was another person in the picture?

Her reply was curt, as it always was. “Yes, I’m fine.” Red eyes glanced out the nearest round window, and the conversation was over. But the others were used to the battleship’s sullen attitude especially when it came to you, and the chatter resumed as if it didn’t stop. She would speak when she was ready.

‎‎

‎‎

An ocean away, yellow eyes looked longingly out across the same blue seas, the horizon hidden behind the shutters of the blinds that hung in front of her pavilion, though the twitch of a brown fox ear returned her attention back to the two girls prostrated in front of her. “Raise your heads, Akagi, Kaga. Please go ahead with your report.”

“We have…made contact with Naval Headquarters, Nagato-sama, and conveyed our requests. They have agreed that only she will be sent for the negotiations.”

Commander…Nagato couldn’t hide the excited swish of her ears at the thought of seeing you - of meeting you - again after so many years apart, and it was obvious that Akagi had similar sentiments even as Kaga remained oblivious: the younger fox sister had never met you before, let alone had the chance to serve under your command. Were you still the same person she remembered? Or had you changed? Had they already ripped and damaged that soft heart of yours? “And?”

The white-haired aircraft carrier spoke up as the older of the two sisters fell silent, crystal blue eyes respectfully raising to land on her. “But they wouldn’t let her come without an escort present throughout. It was something they insisted on.”

Not all good news then it seems. “Who is the escort?” Nagato’s voice, though childlike, carried with it the might and authority of the Sakura Empire, strong and decisive.

“It has not yet been decided.”

A moment of silence as the petite black-haired battleship mulled over the new information, small fists gripping the silky red fabric of her dress. The gold ornaments that decorated her hair glittered in the little sunlight that filtered through. Should they insist again on you coming alone? Or perhaps they should compromise on a neutral-grounds meeting so that you would come alone? It was too early to make the decision right now, not with the gaps that they still had. “Any movement from the Iron Blood?”

“No. At least not in the seas around us.”

Nagato nodded. “Then we shall wait until Naval Headquarters returns with the escort details before we make our decision.”

“Understood, Nagato-sama.”

“Dismissed.”

Watching Akagi and Kaga’s silhouettes disappear down the steps, the leaves rustled softly in the light afternoon breeze; another peaceful afternoon.  After all, in the grand scheme of things, what was a few more days to wait?  She sighed, elegantly lifting the steaming cup of green tea to her lips and taking a sip. Still, she couldn’t quite find enough patience at the thought of returning to you. 

‎‎

‎‎

It took another week for the small fleet with you onboard to steam back to base; despite the shipgirls being able to travel far greater distances in much shorter times by skating across the surface of the ocean, their manifested ships were much slower in comparison. You spend most of the time locked away in your office, reading and re-reading through reports and training exercises and documents - there were still a great many things you didn’t know, and you were determined to find out, to hell if Naval HQ allowed it or not. It was your girls’ lives on the line every time they sailed out to meet the Sirens after all, and you would not let them go face first into the unknown. The few times you left were to catch a breath of fresh air on the deck of Alabama’s ship and for a quick rest in your quarters; and before you realized, your small fleet was back home, pulling into a familiar port. 

But all was not as you had left it, with the once-sparse docks now occupied with a mix of known and unknown ships of all types and builds; destroyers, cruisers, battleships and aircraft carriers that spanned the various nations making up the Azur Lane. You had to admit that the percentage of ships present that you didn’t know was far greater than the ones you did, and it blew your mind that headquarters would send so many in one go. Weren’t they the ones that constantly complained of your lack of aptitude for the job?

As Alabama’s battleship came to a groaning halt, there was nothing more you could do but to steel your resolve. It didn’t matter if you could or could not do this, you simply had to. Pulling and straightening your skirt down and adjusting your hat in the mirror again, you took a deep breath, wrenching open your office door and stepping out into the gentle morning sun.

‎

tags: @lexthetiredstudent, @bbbexee

[thekristen999]

Throwback Thursday:

I haven’t been able to partake in any of the WIPs games becasue I’ve been swamped by RL for a while. (I promise to catch up with everyone’s work!)

However, there’s been a new crop of gifs circulating regarding the shooting and I thought I’d re-post my epic coda. (I also have a lot of new followers who might have missed it the first time)

This is a gritty, no-holds-barred look at Eddie’s physical recovery and his and Buck’s shared trauma of the events of that day, including they’re paths toward healing.

Tagging a few people whom I think might enjoy this :)

@shortsighted-owl​, @spotsandsocks​, @elvensorceress​   @ajunerose​ @andavs​

Trying Hard to Remember, Trying Hard To Forget    

Summary:            

Eddie doesn’t remember the shooting and Buck is haunted by it. As they struggle with their feelings for each other, Eddie and Buck grapple with the realities of trauma recovery and the understanding that everyone heals at their own pace. Coda to 4.14.

@ronordmann​ Did a wonderful cover

…

Eddie felt like he was inside nothing. His eyelids were so damn heavy it was impossible to peel them open. So, he drifted.   

“Patient is forty-five hours post op. He was removed from the vent two hours ago and his respiration rate is ten and continues to improve. BP is still hypotensive at 80/50. His last unit of O-Neg was this morning at 0500.”

“Keep him on humidified O2 and let’s get his crit up….”

…

“Mr. Diaz?” A man in a suit and tie stood beside him. “I’m Detective Reynolds and this is Detective Soule. We’d really like to ask you some questions.”

Eddie stared at the man and took a shallow breath on his oxygen. He tried saying something, make any type of sound, but his lips felt like rubber bands and refused to move.

“His eyes are open,” Detective Soule said.

“Yeah? And do you see the size of his pupils?” Detective Reynolds waved his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “Mr. Diaz? Can you understand me?”

Soule shook his head. “I still think this is a dead end. Sergeant Grant already ruled out a military link. Diaz was an Army Medic, not exactly in a position to make many enemies.”

 “Now, I know what you’re thinking: what about when you get out of the Army?” The recruiter leaned back in his chair. “You’ll have more training than your civilian EMT-B counterparts and you’ll know a lot about trauma. You might not be as good at deciphering between EKG rhythms, or whatever,” he said, flapping his hand. “But you’ll just be a few certifications away advanced civilian EMS services.”

 “What about the rest?” Eddie asked, flipping through the brochure.

 “Medics go through the same Basic Combat Training as everyone else. Then they go for military occupational specialty training.” The recruiter clapped Eddie on the back. “Don’t sweat it, Diaz. It’s a 16-week course, and then people will call you Doc.”

“I was…wrong….” Eddie licked his lips, breathing hard and still unable to draw enough air into his lungs.

“Wrong about what? Mr. Diaz?”

Eddie should have asked that recruiter what it was like to treat a twenty-one-year-old with a sucking chest wound in the back of a moving jeep. Or how much adrenaline it took to carry a wounded solider  toward a helicopter while trying to avoid a road-side bomb.

“Mr. Diaz?”

“No one called me Doc….”

“Excuse me,” a woman in scrubs hurried over like a thunder cloud. “This is the ICU, and you need to leave.”

“We need to ask–”

“I will have you both escorted out. Mr. Diaz is in no condition to talk to the police yet.”

 Why did he need to talk to the police?

Eddie felt his pulse jump.

“Mr. Diaz?” The woman stared down at him; her face obscured by a blue mask. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“On a scale of one to ten, what is your pain level?”

Was he in pain? Eddie thought maybe he should be, but he couldn’t remember why.   

“What…” he took another difficult breath,   “…happened to me?”

“You were injured on the job.”

..

Read the Rest on Ao3

[ronearoundblindly]

https://ronearoundblindly.tumblr.com/post/694828805392646144/what-about-a-fantasy-friday-for-tomorrow

Hi could i ask this

Vampire reader x steve

Nsfw

Them making out suddenly reader gets thirsty and nips at steves neck . He thought it would be painful but all he felt was pleasure from her

I'm not gonna lie: I'm jaded enough to read this and think "what's not-safe-for-work about this?" Guess I'll just leave an open-ended warning that there's kissing, one f-bomb, and a bit of blood, but...isn't that what we're all here for? yes, I'm laughing out loud right now. what about it

"Steve," you gasp against his lips, "I'm serious."

He presses at your hip to keep you in his lap. "One more minute."

He's been on mission so long. You can't say no now that his deep timbre is back beside you where it belongs, close and vibrating in your ear, rattling down to your spine to...

Your stomach rumbles louder than Steve's voice.

"I need to feed."

The whine is pathetic, but it's true. You spent the whole day worrying about why Steve's return was delayed, his quinjet arriving home thirteen hours later than Natasha and Clint's. No communication, no explanation other than an electrical storm. You're so hungry, but you were more distracted by Steve's absence.

"But I'm here," Steve mutters, sucking in your bottom lip before claiming the breadth and depth of your mouth all at once.

His tongue slicks across your teeth, snagging on a fang, and the coppery spice of it sends a familiar pulse of need, creating a ripple in the pond of hunger lingering beneath your skin.

Steve has never played this dangerous game before. He doesn't realize that taste trumps all else when you're desperate. The feel of him squirming between your legs won't stop it. The whispers of dirty little praises can't deter it. The smell that comes off him while he moans and grinds in a plea for friction makes it worse.

He grabs at your ass just as he breaks for air, tossing his head back to move the hair clingy over his sweaty forehead, and there it is.

You only realize you've latched onto his neck when you hear Steve cry out. The single, fortifying gulp of his blood that you manage to down is just a tease.

"Oh god, Stevie, I'm sorry." Your hand flies up to press at his throat. "Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

But it's torture. Forcing yourself to stop drinking is like voluntarily stopping sex at the moment of climax. You've never been able to explain the feel of your hunger to Steve, and truth be told, you never really wanted him to know.

Vampires enjoy feeding like humans enjoy sex. It's a carnal pleasure that lives deep within and cannot be tamed.

Steve can't know that.

You have to force yourself not to lick at the slow trickle of excess escaping from between your fingers.

Low and rolling like a peal of distant thunder, Steve only manages one word.

"Fuuuuuuuck."

His grip tightens, wrenching your body close, almost painfully marked by the intense press of his palms. His head slowly tilts forward.

Steve's eyes are completely black, pupils so wide you'd never know the blue hidden away somewhere.

"Do it again," he demands, and even though you're the one technically feasting on him, Steve is fully in control.

He loosens a hand to pry yours away from the rapidly healing wound on his neck and preens, stretching that thick column of muscle to pulse tantalizingly inches from your salivating mouth.

Not fair. It's not fair at all...but you're just soooo hungry. Now you're ruined. Now you know. Steve Rogers is delicious in every sense. He enjoys feeding your every sense, too. He lives for it.

That night, you created a monster in the most unexpected way.

This concludes the Fantasy Friday asks for this week, but I will still respond to the remainder as best I can and queue them up for next time! Thank you for reading, gang, and I hope you enjoyed the fun romps today.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

part 10... the finale! hope you like it!

-----!!!

A massive, bloodstained axe carves through the metal doorway with little effort, and rips the door entirely out of the wall.

Scout watches in terror as a massive, rotting human with a flaming pumpkin for a head enters the locker room, and stares down at the mercs.

The mercs stare back for seconds that feel like hours.

Until the zombie looks at Scout, and the pumpkin's mouth twists into a sick smile.

"YOU" It roars in a deep, shaking voice, and raises its axe.

"RUN!" Sniper screams at Scout, and Scout quickly jumps into action, scrambling off the bench as the axe smashes into the wood next to where he had been sitting, and sprints out the door.

Behind him, gunfire and an angry roar erupt from the room.

Adrenaline fills Scout's blood, and he runs faster than he ever has before despite his wounded leg.

But thundering footsteps behind him make it painfully obvious that the zombie is catching up. Glancing over his shoulder, Scout's eyes widen in horror as he sees the zombie gaining on him with ease.

A second pair of footsteps join his, and he looks to see a second red Scout running alongside him, but this one has icy blue eyes.

It's Spy, disguised as him. "Go left ahead. I'll go right." The Frenchman mouths. Scout looks ahead to see a T-intersection hallway, and nods.

Scout goes left. Spy goes right.

The zombie falls for it and chases Spy.

Watching the two disappear down the hallway, Scout's legs nearly give out from relief.

"The hell are you doing?! We gotta help Spy!" Sniper's voice snaps Scout back to reality, and the Australian roughly grabs Scout's arm and pulls him along with as the mercs follow the zombie's trail of destruction.

Spy's brought it outside, where he easily dodges its messy swinging attacks. The rest of the team joins the battle, and Scout grins as it starts to become unable to fight back.

Until the fire turns green.

Scout's eyes widen at the sudden green glow, and then there's a deafening scream that erupts from deep within the zombie.

Scout covers his ears, a mistake that leaves him unable to defend himself. The zombie's axe connects with his right leg, crippling him, before the zombie grabs Scout by the neck and lifting him into the air.

Air. Socut needs air. He can't breathe, he can't see, he just needs air.

There's a war cry, and suddenly he's falling, and he opens his eyes to see Demoman with the eyelander, his eyes glowing green. The arm of the zombie disintegrates, but a new one growd back just as fast as it had been cut off.

A hand on his neck as he gags and coughs, Scout watches the rest of the team fight.

But they're losing.

It's not a fair fight, with everyone injured and the zombie able to heal instantly.

And then he realizes why.

"DESTROY THE PUMPKIN! TARGET THE HEAD!" He cries out, and the others quickly follow his command.

But that only makes the zombie mad, and the flames suddenly extend to the axe. Laughing wildly, the zombie starts swinging at random, driving the team back.

Scout can feel himself loosing consciousness. Too much blood loss. The last thing he sees is Sniper getting knocked back by an attack before his vision goes black and he sinks into unconsciousness.

Spy's mad.

This thing has hurt his son. And it's hurting his teammates. He has to kill it. He grabs Demoman's discarded stickybomb launcher and starts running towards it.

8 bombs should be enough to kill it.

It's enough to save everyone.

Spy cloaks and starts running towards the zombie. He can feel it in his pocket. He'll be fine. Probably. He grabs onto its cape, and starts to climb up it, holding the stickybomb launcher to the back of its head.

Only to realize the detonator's with Demo, who's too busy battling the beast to notice his stolen launcer.

Spy's gonna have to use the trigger while he's still on the zombie's back.

There's nothing else he can do. Closing his eyes, he prepares himself.

And pulls the trigger.

ka-BOOOM!

Sniper shields his eyes at the sight of the explosion as he stands, and when the light fades, he looks to see the zombie just standing there.

But the pumpkin's been destroyed.

They won.

"Good work, Demo!" Engi calls.

"That wasn't me, lad." Demo replies. "I've brrn usin' me sword."

"What?" Sniper looks at Demo, then at Scout, who's lying in the ground still, and jogs over. Scout's starting to regain consciousness as Medic heals his leg.

Scout doesn't look at Sniper. He looks at something else.

Spy. That's all Scout can focus on. Shoving Medic away, he stumbles to his feet and limps towards the limp body of Spy.

"Spy?" He calls. The Frenchman doesn't get up, and Scout moves closer, only to see so much blood.

It's on Spy. It's pooled around Spy. Everywhere. Scout drops to his knees in shock and horror, ignoring Sniper's concerned questions, and stumbles to his father's side, and rolls Spy onto his back.

He's dead. His chest has been blown open entirely.

Spy's the one who set the bomb off. He'd saved everyone but himself.

"Dad..." Scout whispers. Hot tears start to flow down his face, and his grip on Spy's body tightens. "Dad.. please... no.."

There's no point in begging. Spy's already gone. As quickly as his father had come into Scout's life again, he had left it. Forever.

"I forgive you." Scout whispers as tears start to stain Spy's bloody suit. "Please... Just stay... with me..."

Scout's wails echo through the air. Not even the comfort of his team can fix this.

In the distance, a figure watches Scout cry. It watches the team cry with him. It drops something on the ground as it turns and disappears; a golden pocketwatch with french inscribed on it: La sonnerie morte.

OUGH I LOVE IT ANON!!! This was such a good series :)

[keepswingin]

Jeongin + trapped

His chest squeezes as he pokes his head out from the corner of the alley, staring down the empty road ahead of him. It's late enough that he should be in the clear, thunder rumbling softly in the distance.

He doesn't know when the storm will hit, but he should be out of here before it does. Rain is the last thing he needs when his chest is already so tightly wound with anxiety. He exhales hard, closing his eyes for a long moment, trying to ground himself. 

He's so close. Chan will trust him after this. They all will. 

He opens his eyes and checks his surroundings one more time before running, phone clutched tightly in his hands. He makes it to the other side of the street no issue, heart pounding as he leans against a streetlight, the cool metal pressing roughly against his back. 

He can do this. He will do this. 

He reaches the statue in the middle of the intersection. It's huge, but elegant, a watcher over everything unseen. Someone's thrown a sign over it's neck, angry words painted in dark red. 

FREE US

He shivers at the sight of them and walks around to the back of the statue, inspecting it. He overheard Changbin, whispering to Minho in the main room, something about bombs and timings and mass panic. Jeongin didn't know the first thing about whatever other groups that were out there, especially angry enough to paint signs with blood, but they were out there and plotting vengeance from the moment Chan revealed the truth to their part of the world.  

Jeongin thinks Minho knew, more than the rest of them, how angry people could be, and how that anger could turn into something much darker, when pushed the wrong way.

He thinks Minho knows a lot more than he lets on, with the way he stares at Jeongin like he's something to be studied. He looks at Seungmin like that too, lips pulled into a firm line when he tosses him a bag of frozen food to ice his newest bruise. 

Minho cares, far too much. All of them do. 

Jeongin doesn't know if he could too. 

He finds the bomb hidden beneath the sitting figure's left leg, silently ticking down numbers in a soft neon glow. Two minutes. Jeongin would laugh, if this wasn't a fucking bomb strapped to a statue in the middle of the city, primed to go off. He glances down at the phone in his hand, and wonders if this will work, or if he'll be the next statue erected here, preaching better times. 

Who was he kidding?

He wouldn't even get a gravestone if it was up to his father. 

Throwing the thought away, he takes to searching, typing in the serial number he finds on the bomb and inputting the three different colored wires that sit hooked into it. Jeongin double checks the information before submitting it, the cellphone beeping twice as soon as it's confirmed against the coding Han had manually created bit by bit.

He had talked to Jeongin about it on the nights where sleep ran too far to catch, both of them watching some old show on one of his many monitors in the den. Floating code and numbers were easier than talking in a crowded room, and Jeongin himself, when they had first met. 

He liked Han, the more he got to know him, and he was thankful for him and his homemade code more than ever right now, the clock flashing one minute remaining.

"Please work," he whispers as he glances at his phone, flashing with confirmation. All he has to do is pull the blue wire, and it'll be defused. One simple tug, and he proves himself to Chan, and saves everything before it becomes much, much worse. 

He reaches for the wire, heart pounding, lightning flashing, thunder so loud that it shakes the very ground he stands on. His father's voice echoes in his ears, spitting insults and pushing. Seungmin's face, a bruised smeared beneath his eye. Chan's kind smile, hand squeezing his shoulder. 

Jeongin exhales, steadying himself, fingers resting on the wire.

One breath, two, and then the pull - 

Something heavy knocks into him, throwing him off to the side and knocking all the air from his lungs. The impact of his arm to asphalt causes him to groan, head slightly dazed as he struggles to sit up, only to be pushed back down harshly, a man's voice snarling threats into his ear. The clink of handcuffs around his wrists as his cheek is pressed to the pavement is louder than the next bout of thunder, panic surging through his chest. 

"No, wait, wait, please," he says, struggling to sit up again. "There's - There's a bomb - " 

"Nice try," the Uniform sneers as he reaches for the device hooked to his suit, preparing to radio for backup.

Jeongin can see the bright red glare of the bomb out of the corner of his eyes, the numbers ticking down. He closes his eyes as it reaches one, and wonders if this was always supposed to be his fate after all as the world around him is bathed in bright light.