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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

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Get me out of here - Lewis Hamilton

Part 2 - Let's get out of here

Request: "I enjoy reading your posts so much, I wanted to maybe request? I love angst, maybe a Lewis one shot where the reader gets in the cross fire in the media kind of like Kate Middleton but with the Ferrari news?" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: Angst, Lewis to Ferrari, Toto being an ass.

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Hi anon, thank you for the request and the support, it means the world! I loved writing that, but then again I love me some angsty, hope you like it ❤️.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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“You bastard, how could you?”

You entered the farm style house in the English countryside seeing red. Newspaper on hand and phone on the other, blazing through the formal reception rooms until you found Toto and Lewis talking in the sunroom at the back.

“Woah there, what’s that language?”

“I thought I could trust you Toto” Your voice coming out stronger and louder than even you expected, facing him to see it in his eyes he knew exactly what all this was about. You couldn’t help but whisper, almost to yourself “Gosh, I really did.”

“What’s going on? Why are you shouting?” Lewis interjected as he got up and headed towards you, his arms reaching for your waist to try and calm you down

“Ask him! I’m not the one who gave the damn interview.”

“I didn’t say it like that, you know how they twist our words” The Austrian reasoned as you paced in the room

“Enough you two. What the hell is going on?” Susie emerged from the adjoining room, still in her workout clothes, towel in hand.

You threw the paper on the desk in front of them, eyeing Toto as Lewis read the headline “Source of Ferrari’s leak: Toto’s former right-hand and Lewis’ girl”

“You thought I wouldn’t see it? That I wouldn’t know that you told the press I leaked about Ferrari ?!” Exasperation written in your eyes as you tried to understand why would Toto sell you out like that.

“C’mom, it’ll blow over. By Barhein no one will even remember” His german accent echoed through the room as he tried to impose himself

“You tried to throw me under the bus for someone you’re clearly trying to cover for, that’s the issue here”

“Who sold the story to the press, Toto?” This time it was Lewis’ voice that cut the air, his tone stern and demanding.

“Does it even matter? He clearly has more respect for whoever it was than he does for me.” Your voice full of disdain throwing Toto off as he looked at you with surprise in his eyes at the tone you were using.

“Don’t be like that.” Susie pleaded from the corner, still as confused as Lewis to the events unfolding.

“Why?! Does it hurt him? I can guarantee it doesn’t hurt as much as it did when I read that stupid interview” Your voice coming out in sharp pufs as you tried to hold back the tears that fought hard to fall.

“Toto, who told the press?” Lewis pressed him once again and you were about to blow out at him when you heard the Austrian confessing “I told them.”

Your head starting spinning and all you could do was march back to the car in the driveway, not really listening to anything they were trying to get through to you. You started the car while Lewis tried to talk you out of driving, his pleading shouts heard through the glazed windows.

Your sobs came out all at once when Lewis managed to get into the passenger seat and hold your trembling hands down, getting them away from the steering wheel and into his chest for you to feel his heartbeat, your frantic eyes finally finding his soothing ones.

“Get me out of here, please” was all you could whisper mid sobs, sliding to the other seat when Lewis jumped out to get to the other side, your peripheral vision catching a glimpse of the commotion in the doorsteps of the house, with Toto exasperatedly motion to a now infuriating Susie and a few other people.

It felt like hours before Lewis pulled over, a small countryside village in the distance and a herd of sheep around. One of his hands gripped the leather of the seat, his free hand smoothing your arm and his stare focused on the road ahead.

“He did it to protect the brand. They’re gonna have a whole year to bring George forward, to switch things around…”

“Why are you defending him?” You cut him mid-sentence; your voice toneless although your eyes showed your emotions were all over the place.

“Because we need to think this through, babe. Toto’s not one of us anymore, you saw it.” He turned to you, clutching your hand into his, breathing in before continuing.

“We can’t expect anything from him anymore, least of all you.” His stare pierced yours and you knew what he meant.

You and Toto had known each other for as long as Lewis had. You had made your way up from being just an intern all the way to actually being poached by AMG and then Daimler, the whole path closely followed by Toto’s advices, and even in the years you lived in Germany the F1 GPs were always a familiar home you got to come back to, because of Lewis and Toto.

“Why did he say it was me though?” You questioned after getting out of the car and sitting by a rock fence, your voice small, much like how you felt while you leaned into Lewis’ embrace.

“To get back at me, maybe?! I really don’t know.” He breathed out after a while, leaving a kiss on your head before looking out at the fields in front of you two. It was a typical English day, cold and humid but at least the sun tried to fight its way through the clouds.

“I’m sorry he made you feel like you had to leave” you looked up at him as you brought up the subject, it was still a sore one for him.

“I always thought I��d finish my career there” He didn’t look at you as he mumbled his response, his gaze lost to the horizon

“It’s going to be a long year, isn’t it?!” You thought out loud after a while of silence and just feeling each other’s breathing.

“Yeah… and I need you there, by my side, head held high” This time he turned to look at you, loving doe stare embracing you in his warmth, no idea what the future holds but sure he will be there.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

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Retirement is supposed to be peaceful—at least, that's what Price had told Ghost. He'd said that, while the quiet is unnerving at first, you settle into it relatively easily until it's something in which you find solace. You learn to relax your shoulders if only a little bit, and you rediscover small joys you had completely forgotten about when your entire life was routine, routine, routine.

And now Ghost is starting to believe that the old bastard had been lying to him if only to talk him down from a ledge.

Because retirement is anything but peaceful. Sure, it's nice to be able to cook his own meals and have more downtime for his reading, and sure, it's nice to not have to be so hyper-vigilant in his own space for once—but God knows he knows nothing of the experience of silence when his neighbour is so goddamn loud.

Maybe it's Ghost's fault for choosing to live in a flat—he could find himself a home in the countryside without issue, he's sure of it, if only it didn't require so much effort and paperwork—but at the same time, he feels totally blameless. Because he is.

His neighbour, however, is not.

Now, Ghost has never encountered this person before. Never ended up stepping out as the same time as them, never bothered to introduce himself when he moved in. All he knows is that the person directly across the hall from him has no concept of respecting one's neighbours in terms of volume.

Be it making a racket in the wee hours when, presumably, making breakfast, or be it playing music or movies far too loud, or hell, be it talking to themselves about something Ghost needn't know the gist of, whoever it is knows no quiet. And it's getting on Ghost's last nerve.

He doesn't feel it quite warrants a formal noise complaint, but he does think it needs an intervention. If Ghost had to be forced out of the military due to injury, he's very well going to make the most out of his retirement.

Which involves silence.

Ghost waits until he knows his neighbour is home, if evidenced by the loud clashing of pots and pans in their kitchen, to go over and knock to finally, hopefully talk something out, but he too soon discovers that the plan is entirely useless.

Because as Ghost knocks and knocks, it's as if his neighbour doesn't hear him. Even in the lulls of little to no noise, there's absolutely no response. It's unbelievable.

He knows confrontation isn't everybody's thing—it's barely his own—but Christ. At least he'd answer the door.

Ghost leaves a note instead. Slips it beneath the door and retires to his own flat, hoping that his neighbour could at least bother to read.

And they must. Because Ghost realizes, over the course of the next few days, he can finally hear his own thoughts again.

A week goes by, and it's blissfully quiet. Maybe Price hadn't been such a liar after all.

Two weeks go by, and... Ghost realizes that no, Price is still a liar. The complete silence isn't peaceful at all, not when he'd grown so accustomed to noise.

Maybe Ghost had overreacted.

He's on his feet and across the hall before he has time to think about it, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It didn't work last time, but he feels an apology should be spoken, not written, so certainly it's worth—

The lock on the other side clicks, and suddenly Ghost has no choice. The door swings open to finally reveal his mystery neighbour, and... oh.

Oh.

"Well, hello. Can I help you wi' somethin'?"

Ghost tries not to wince at the man's volume, though he doesn't think he's all that successful. Years of wearing a mask had not done well for him and keeping his expressions schooled.

But loudness aside... the lilt of his neighbour's Scottish accent is otherwise... pleasant. Rough in a way Ghost finds far too enticing, and brimming with life in a way his own deadpan never has been.

He tries not to linger on that thought.

"I'm..." Ghost wets his lips, feeling strangely nervous. "I wanted to apologize for my note. It wasn't very... it was rude. So I'm... sorry."

Since when is talking to new people nerve-wracking for him? Ghost must be going soft.

The man tilts his head. There's a slight furrow in his brow, and Ghost assumes it's because he's recalling the note to put a face to its scribbled words.

Ghost assumes wrong.

"Sorry, could you... repeat that for me?"

Ghost frowns. That was... not at all what he was expecting. So much for apologizing for his own note when his neighbour is going to be a prick anyway.

He opens his mouth to bite back a response, but not before his neighbour's eyes are widening and he's frantically gesturing in surrender.

"I don't mean to... I'm only asking because I'm deaf," the man hurriedly explains. "I don't... I've never been good at readin' lips."

And, well. If that doesn't answer every one of Ghost's questions.

His first thought is that he'd been stupid for not thinking of the possibility. His second is thank God for Roach.

Tentatively, Ghost raises his hands, a little out of practice but familiar nonetheless with sign language. Now he just feels even more like an arse.

"Want to apologize," Ghost repeats. "For the note."

A grin slowly appears on his neighbour's face at the use of sign, responding with enthusiasm despite the rocky start and the reason for Ghost's being there.

"My fault," the man says, shaking his head. "Never realize how loud I'm being."

"Still sorry." Ghost offers out one of his hands, finger-spelling with the other, "Simon."

"John," the man replies aloud, his smile warm as he shakes Ghost's hand. There's an awkward moment after their hands fall back to their sides, and for a second Ghost considers just turning and leaving, but thankfully John saves him from that.

"Well, I have to get to the shops," John says, and right, he'd just been leaving, "but I'll see you around?"

Ghost nods, and that seems to be enough for John to brush past, closing his door behind him.

That was certainly... something. At the very least, a better outcome than Ghost had been anticipating.

He should call Price. Tell the man that his idea of retirement is entirely twisted—because clearly he doesn't have a neighbour like John, who Ghost fears just might find a way to worm himself into Ghost's post-military life one way or another.

Maybe he shouldn't have left that note after all.

#plot point not included: soap is also a veteran and completely losing his hearing is what did him in #anyways not sure what this is or where it came from but. Here #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

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evilminji · 4 months

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You know how in Naruto, Sealing is a Finicky Art?

It's like computer coding, calligraphy, and symbolism had a super-powered/reality bending baby. You gotta think in VERY ADHD twirls and swirls too be any good at it. Which is why the Uzumaki rocked it so hard. But I digress.

Is Complexe AF.

Bends Reality and is EASY to fuck up.

Wanna bet? The BEST way to learn/use it? Is to copy already functioning examples? But Oh! How do you KNOW they are functioning? Safe? Well OBVIOUSLY, your Skilled At Seals teacher looks at it first! THEN gives it too you!

Using random seals you find in the dirt is how you get splattered across three different countryside in peices, after all. Possibly take out a nearly Town or two while your at it. No One Is THAT Dumb... RIGHT?

Enter Stage Right o/~☆ Humanity, Everybody! *polite, if strained, golf clapping*

They ABSOLUTELY Are!

Especially Ninja!

Ninja who, after fuckin MURDERING A WHOLE ASS VILLAGE OF SEALING MASTERS, decided to pick through the rubble! Because THAT is gonna work out GREAT! After all... it's not like you just KILLED the fuckers who could tell you what IS and IS NOT functional!

Was that once the "hazardous advanced class' sealing failures" bin? Or was it the "super awesome candy and rainbows" stash!? You don't know. NO ONE DOES NOW. You fuckin KILLED THE PEOPLE WHO DID.

They had their own REGIONAL Sealing Script.

You know, the one they taught to THEIR STUDENTS. Not outsiders. The students you KILLED, you absolute fuck nuggets. But hey! The threat of the Super Scary Sealing Masters is no more! Good job. You've successfully burned down the library. It can't hurt you ever again.

But NOW? You have piles upon piles of GIBBERISH.

You can only VAGUELY tell the novice seals from the master's. And even then? Do you have any idea what most of them DO? Nope. And after a certain point in training? The shaky, uncertain hand writing becomes smooth enough, that it all blends together in "Seals".

Now... what is the SMART thing to do?

Curse your hubris and the atrocities your fear allowed you to commit, obviously. But BEYOND that, Don't Touch Them. But we're Ninja. So WE are all suicidal idiots. The less smart but still Reasonably Precautionary thing to do? Study the amateur Seals. Learn Sealing from other masters.

Crack the Regional Script and slowly, painstakingly, work through each seal as we sort out what is and isn't safe. What can be salvaged. What can be used and how.

A process that will likely take years if not decades.

But of course, that's not GOOD ENOUGH for certain grabby handed, power hungry, short sighted, fuck weasels! No, no. It much EASIER to just throw human life into the blender until profit pops out! Completely IGNORING, of course, that SOME of these?

Could very well be the "Too Dangerous To Ever Use/Will Destroy Us All/Take Them All With Us" type of Seals that Kage usually LOCK UP. The kind you CAN'T destroy once you've made them, because the fall out would be WORSE. And?

Even if you are a murderous, middle management, go nowhere in your life, BASTARD of a ninja? Sometimes you can look down at the massive, intricately detailed, killer off nation's before you. Something that was WRAPPED in locks upon locks upon chains upon seals. And KNOW in your selfish, survival at all costs little heart... You DO NOT want anyone to fuck with this.

You CAN NOT let anyone fuck with this.

NO ONE can be allowed to touch it.

Not for ANYTHING.

You may fear S Class Kage and Missing Nin and what all else they may do to you. But THIS? Your eyes can't even properly FOCUS on it. It's like a tunnel that's lined with poetry, stretching all the way to the Earth's core. It's perfectly flat. It moves, a gentle rotation. But is that just your eyes, tricking you?

So much ink, it swallows the scroll, and this is when it's COMPRESSED.

How many nations?

How many NATIONS must this monstrosity span, when free?

It must have taken a Master decades, if not their entire life, to complete. Possibly a family, several generations. But... but gods it is a work of MADNESS. No wonder it was sealed. It speak, you... you THINK... of Death...

Of it's KING.

Something BEYOND the Shinigami. BEYOND Death and the Purelands.

Who the FUCK would try to summon something beyond GODS? Did they think they could control it? Chain it like the bijuu? You're so cold inside. Because you KNOW. You fucking KNOW, the ambitions and arrogance of those above you.

They'll think they can.

They won't listen.

You... you have to take this and RUN. You stand no chance. But no chance is better then oblivion. Anything is better then standing by and watching it happen.

You obviously don't make it. You never expected too. But at least... at least you won't have to watch whatever THAT is... arrive... fuck...

At least you TRIED.

And? Because leaf Ninja, specifically certain teams, have the MOST Shit luck imaginable? They arrive, having crossed paths with several other teams, on the way back home (yay! Warm food and real beds!) Just in time to see a desperate looking ninja from one of the small villages get fuckin pincushioned. Drop what is VERY clearly an Uzushio Scroll of considerable size and SEVERE SSS+ DO Not EVER Touch Grade Type Markings, and then some joining from that same village go to grab it.

Notice them.

You know... the multiple LEAF NINJA. Who TOO THIS DAY, wear the UZU swirl on their uniforms as a mourning tribute to the DEAR AND PRECIOUS ALLIES they could not save. The Uzushio Allies. Those ones. The ones that were, in fact, from Uzushio.

LIKE THE SCROLL YOU ARE HOLDING.

By the WAY! How DID you get that Scroll? Doesn't seem like something our dear friends would just HAND over, now does it? You didn't happen to LOOT THEIR FUCKIN GRAVES did you? Cause we sure would be MAD about that!

Real Mad.

Dude obviously panics. Because that? That is a VERY pissed off bunch of Ninja, many in the bingo book, one of whom is Very Clearly throwing off BIJUU CHAKRA. And just said "my family's" Ha ha... Oh Shit that's an Uzumaki.

So he decides to USE THE SEAL.

What does it do?

He doesn't know! But it's probably SOMETHING big and impressive, right?

Yes. :) Yes it Does.

*Crack*

The SKY cracks. Like a pane of glass, struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing as far as the eye can see above them, all from one central point, directly above the seal. The cracks there are concentrated. A point of impact. And through the cracks... something GREEN shines.

Brighter then the daylight around it, yet darker in color then the blue of the sky. Lazily whisping out like escaping mist. Time seems slow as their eyes all whip up wards. Even with senses beyond the normal human base, it is... inconceivable. SOMETHING winds back. They can not see it.

But they can feel it.

Like changing pressure as a storm rolls in.

*Crack!*

Green overtakes the blue. The sky a Kaleidescape of shards, held together by stubbornness alone. Reflecting a calm day that seems IMPOSSIBLE in the face of what's occurring. There should be wind. Great pressure changes in the face of so much FORCE, but the trees are eerily still.. utterly silent..

Nothing dares bring attention to itself.

Some distant part of their minds try to gather the thought that... that it could be an illusion. They... they should check. But they can FEEL it. Like a weight draped gently but without mercy upon their shoulders. It did not slam. But... but they can not move. Can barely breathe. It is beyond killing intent.

It is simply...

DEATH.

*CRASH!*

At last, the sky gives way. A fist, the size of towers punching through. It... it is almost elegant. A ring, almost in the shinigami's visage, wraps itself in a howling and snarled menace, around a great shining finger. A glove protects almost delicate looking, claw tipped fingers. The fist pulls back. Shard of sky falling, Floating, suspended in their moment of destruction, a glittering frame for the gapping wound that has overtaken everything.

Death...

Death has Green Eyes.

A crown of ice and starlight, pulled straight from the coldest north, hair that drifts like the drowned. His skin is that of a corpse. His breath a coldness that seems to suck all warmth from the world. There is no rage, no great irritation, his face merely twisted in slight annoyance. Mild displeasure.

And yet it feels like their greatest sin.

It BURNS.

They are ants. Less then ants. He... He LOOMS so TALL. The Green BURNS into their eyes, into their veins, chokes their lungs. The silence stretches. Those great eyes, the eyes of a GOD, move from them. To the man with the Seal.

He dies instantly.

Shit.

They... they need to... to...

Naruto wanders over and picks up the scroll, completely ignore the Giant Sky God Of Death and how all his friends are frozen in primordial fear. He roughly shakes the dirt off the delicate old relic, then squint at it. Figures he's holding it upside-down. Flipping it, he squints harder. Tilts his head and hums.

"Oh!"

He holds his hand up, turning to look at the terrifying Deity From Beyond Comprehension.

"It's me! I'm the Uzumaki! But, uh, I didn't actually summon you? Our stuff got stolen. Which really sucks!" He looks down again, brings the paper nearly to his nose trying to make out some thing. "Uuuuuh, huh. Got it! Can you get smaller? I don't got any BBQ or anything ON me right now, but Choji's Family makes REALLY good food! We can go out to eat? Ooh ooh! Maybe RAMEN! You like Ramen, right?!"

"Yep, Definitely one of Shouta's."

Rumbles The Actual Fucking King Of Death, shaking the trees and ground under your feet. As you probably stare at your fellow Leaf Nin like WTF.

"Sure, man. Give me a second."

And suddenly? He's leaning forward. Shrinking and twisting in ways that are painful to look at. The sky is... is not healing, so much as UNcracking. Rewinding itself to a pristine state. Until only a large, floating, armored God in black and white floats above you. Glowing.

One that... that is apparently FRIENDS with the Uzumaki Clan.

Because of course he is.

Naruto's introducing his Toads. And teammates. You almost feel bad for Hatake. But like? Better you then me, buddy. THEN? Death? Decides? For some inconceivable reason. "You know what? Im'ma just turn into a human WITH NO CHAKRA NETWORK. Reeeeeally freak out the locals."

And now Leaf is INCHARGE of entertaining A GOD until he decides to leave.

Or (presumably) Else.

And!! Because life loves to kick ninjas IN THE BALLS (for their stupid, STUPID life choices, YOU FUCKERS) it just HAD to be the One God? That can SEE DEAD PEOPLE. Because it's not like ninjas have Death Related Traumas or anything!

*internal ninja screaming*

Feed the guy some BBQ! Stat! Please Akimichi! Save us!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxnaruto #naruto prompt #dp prompt #dpxnaruto prompt #narutoxdp #whoops we summoned a ghost king!#but dont worry #UZU accidentally did that TONS #he just asks for food then leaves #cool guy #thats why were are all chakra beasts and also probably ghosts now!#naruto is like?#new frien?#new frien!#no hes not asking #minji's writing

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delphi-shield · 4 months

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on the exhale // leon s. kennedy

Leon x Reader Fluff wc: ~2.5k shoutout to dana for wedging this idea into my brain, i also need leon to praise me for doing the bare minimum.

summary: After your home gets broken into, Leon insists on teaching you how to shoot.

content: mentions of a break-in, extensive discussion and use of firearms, leon being a big nerd (i can't NOT fuck him energy), established relationship, gender neutral reader.

You gave him a scare. Came back home from grocery shopping to find your door busted in and called him, all blubbery and panicked. You were lucky that you hadn’t been home when it happened. Crying to your boyfriend for help made you feel silly now, but at the time it had been the only thing that had made sense. It should have been cops first, Leon second, and he would tell you as much later.

“I’m gonna come home,” he’d told you. That only made you cry harder. Through your tears, he managed to make out the reason - you didn’t want him to get in trouble at work.

Bullshit, he’d thought. After all he gave to this place, they could stand to let him cut out early for an emergency. Thank God - that useless bastard - he wasn’t on deployment when all of this had happened. He rattled off instructions for you. Don’t go in the house, call the cops, wait for him to show up.

Leon doesn’t get frazzled often, but you saw the urgency in how he moved then, hopping out of his car before he even cut the engine. He hadn't thought to tell the cops he was your boyfriend, just flashed his badge at the officer who tried to stop him, teeth bared when he told the officer to move. He doesn't usually swing around the weight of his position like that, tries to leave who he is during his working hours at the door and shoulder who he wants to be when he's with you instead - but damn, if it wasn't effective.

He'd slid his arm around your waist, pressed a kiss to your hair and said, "You okay, baby?" and it was probably only then that the officer pieced together that Leon wasn't here on official business.

You were starting to think this whole thing scared him more than it scared you. It was damn near an argument. He made it clear that he wanted you comfortable enough to know how to shoot if it came down to that. He seems convinced, privately, that it would come down to that eventually. Like an attack is inevitable. You had laughed at the idea. After all, who would target you?

Leon doesn't want to give you the long, long list of answers to that, but his silence says enough.

That was that. He was teaching you how to shoot. No more avoiding it. If it buys him some peace, you’ll fire off a few rounds. Maybe it will even be fun. After all, Leon had almost seemed excited when he insisted he teach you. It's an excuse for him to take you out in his Jeep and drive around the countryside if nothing else.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to be here?” You ask, poking your head out the window of his Jeep.

Leon doesn't even turn around. “I’m sure.”

A man shouldn’t look so good hunched over a rusty padlock, ugly boot propped up on the bottom bar. He swings the gate open, spinning the padlock on his index finger. Wrangler’s shouldn’t be that appealing, either, like they’re molded to him. Maybe it’s just the way he walks. The confident sway of his hips could make anything look good.

He swings himself back into the driver’s seat, pulls through the gate, and asks you to shut it behind you. You take the padlock from him. It’s hard to imagine you have the same confident stride Leon had. You feel like you’re shuffling your feet in the dirt, like the gate is so much heavier and your fingers so much clumsier. Leon’s eyes are on you the whole way, even when you clamber back into the passenger seat. Not that you notice.

The range is little more than a grassy field ringed with shooting bays. You don’t know what you had expected - maybe something a little more clinical. A quick look around fills you with relief. It looks like you’re the only ones here right now.

Leon pulls up in front of one of the pistol bays, already explaining range etiquette to you. You help him unload, picking up a bag that you nearly drop with a muffled whoa.

“What the hell did you pack?”

“Ammo.”

Jesus. Was he planning on forming a militia?

You don’t know why you’re surprised. Leon doesn’t do anything casually. You haul the ammo over to the closest table, hefting it up and thunking it down. Your hands settle onto your hips.

The bay is roughly 50 feet deep, the berms healed over with grass. The flat of the bay is tracked with dirt paths, clearly worn over time. A line hangs at the far end, where Leon clips two targets. He trods his own path back and unpacks his assortment of handguns on the picnic table. At his direction, you unload cartons of ammunition, organizing them by their different packaging. 9mm. .45.

The handguns look, for the most part, the same. Some are slick, carbon black, others dull, burnished metal. Your eyes are drawn to a boxy handgun, all sharp angles, the grip pebbled.

“You look nervous,” Leon notes. He straddles a bench, gesturing for you to join him.

“I am.”

Leon laughs. He nudges a magazine towards you, picking up one himself. “Don’t be. I’ll show you. Here - watch me.”

He thumbs rounds into the magazine. He makes it look easy, like he's loading a pez dispenser. You try to do the same and your thumbs come away sore and raw.

“It comes with practice.” He shrugs. He already has another two magazines loaded by the time you’ve finished your first. You hope he’s right, but you have a feeling your hands are going to ache after this.

He pulls one more gun from its case. It's worn, clearly seen plenty of use. The polymer is dulled and scuffed compared to some of the other weapons that he's laid out for you. It looks like someone took a file to the barrel and sanded it at an angle. He handles it with care, looks it over twice before he sets it away from the other pistols.

“What’s that?”

“This?” He says, laying out a stock next to it. That makes you arch a brow as well - a stock for a handgun. “She’s more of a novelty, honestly.”

“She?” You grin.

Leon rolls his eyes. He really should have known you’d tease him for that one. He flips the gun over and draws his finger across the engraving at the bottom of the grip. ‘Matilda’.

Before you can make some smart-ass comment, he clarifies. “She’s a novelty. My first gun. Can’t get rid of her, even though I probably should.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Quicker to tell you what’s not wrong,” he says, loading the magazine fondly. “The trigger is heavy as hell. There’s no rear sight. This is a military model, so if I attach the stock it fires in a three-round burst, but the way the barrel is cut slows down the way it cycles, so you lose a lot of -”

Yeah, he’s lost you. He looks so passionate when he speaks, though, you can't help but stare. You cushion your cheek on your fist just to watch him for a moment. You can't remember the last time you saw his eyes light up like this. You ask questions just so he'll keep talking – “Double action - what does that mean?”

And he's off talking again, showing you the difference on two different pistols.

He catches on to your game after the third question, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He sets Matilda aside, warning you off of trying her for now. His hand nestles home in the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Try this one first,” Leon says. It's smaller than the others, glimmers with a sheen that seems to have worn off the rest. You miss the full name - the something-or-other Shield. He runs you through the gun, shows you the safety and hands you the magazine.

It’s the basics he’s been telling you since before you even got to the range - finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Only point the gun at something if you intend to shoot it. He shows you proper stance, flexes his knees to emphasize his stance, and you can’t help the little laugh that slips out of you. His brow furrows.

“C’mon, this is serious.” Your laughter dies quick. You quiet, start taking it a little more seriously, chase the hearts from your eyes for the moment.

It feels like you should be taking notes with the amount of information he’s telling you. You nod along, trying to mimic his stance as best you can. Finally, Leon presses the gun to your palm, his hands covering yours to adjust your grip. His touch lingers, fingers sliding along your wrist as he steps away.

“Remember,” he says, loud enough for you to hear over your hearing protection. “Squeeze.”

Squeeze. Okay. You can do that. Just squeeze. You try, curling your index finger. You tense in anticipation of the shot.

The gun snaps in your hand. The grip sears into the soft skin of your palm. The ejected shell casing sizzles past your ear. You swallow the lump in your throat. You’d squeezed the trigger just how Leon had told you to, and you’d still jumped, pulling your shot up and away from where you had been aiming.

You look over to him, about to say you’re doing this wrong, you’ve got to be messing something up - you can’t even tell if you hit the target. Leon’s giving you a thumbs up and a dorky smile when you look over, though, and any thought of backing out splinters into a laugh. His voice is muffled by your earmuffs, but you think you hear him say ‘keep going’.

The rest of the magazine goes by quicker. You never quite get used to the bark of the gun, but you manage to hit the target more than once, letting out a surprised oh! each time. The slide kicks back and you barely notice - you try to fire again and it only clicks limply.

"Not bad," Leon says. You snort, but you’re smiling despite it, removing your earmuffs. Your shots are all over the place. He stares down range, hip cocked against the bench, arms folded across his chest. “You're pulling up and to the right - see?" He says, pacing down the range, gesturing for you to follow him. You trod over spent casings, catching up quick. He points to the groupings, circling them for you as if you were having trouble seeing the holes you had put all over the place.

He walks you back, talking you through pointers while you try to cram that information in along with everything else. You slide another magazine into place and try to get back into position. Your feet shuffle uncertainly on the concrete slab. Something about this is so embarrassing, being so wet behind the ears at something he’s so passionate about - you can hardly swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Hang on.” Leon’s voice cuts through your nerves. You move to lower the gun, but he stops you with a feather-light touch at your elbows.

He moves you into position, his leg wedging between yours, kicking your feet where he wants them. His touch is a suggestion, guiding you into proper form with the faintest press.

“There you go,” he rumbles. He’s pressed so close you can feel it vibrate down your back. His hands slide down your sides, fingers curling into your hips.“Nice and slow. Take your time. When you’re ready - exhale and squeeze.”

How the fuck are you supposed to breath deep and slow, concentrate on firing on the exhale, when his hands are gripping your hips like that? His breath puffs hot against the back of your neck. His voice drifts to you through your earmuffs, cloudy and dreamlike.

“Nice and slow. Squeeze.”

His hands press your hips, kneading - and then he steps back. You take a moment, let your breathing even, find your rhythm. In and out - on the exhale. You squeeze the trigger again, just like he showed you. The gun jumps, but you’re ready for it this time, the shock absorbed in the roll of your shoulders.

Center mass. On target, roughly where you had been aiming. You lean back into Leon’s chest, grinning.

“Good job,” he says. His hands slide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders. “Much better. I’m proud of you.”

A little thrill rattles up your chest. You’re going to have to unpack all of that later.

“Can I see you do it?” You ask, stepping away from the bay. You drop the magazine just like he showed you earlier. All right- maybe not just like he showed you. You fumble with it, just a little, and he does have to remind you to fish out the chambered round.

“I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun.” He says, subduing a grin. He gestures for you to put your earmuffs back on and takes Matilda in hand.

It’s a night and day difference from the way you had shot. He’s quick and precise, comfortable even with the gun he had spent minutes telling you was ungainly. A tight cluster of shots in the chest of the target, two rounds in the head - just to show off, you’re sure. It’s a blink and you miss it exhibition.

And yet, Leon clicks his tongue. “I’m pulling left. See?”

“Mm…” you pop your head to the side, pretending you see what he does. You step up to him, chest pressed against his back and hands at his hips, tormenting him the way he had just done to you. “Maybe if you just…”

Your hands slide to his front, coasting up his chest. He huffs a laugh and it presses his pecs into your hands.

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” he says, laughter wobbling his voice.

“I’m taking it just as seriously as you are.”

There’s no arguing with that. He sets Matilda aside and turns to face you. “People pay good money for lessons like these.”

“Yeah? You’re a really hands-on instructor.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his laugh this time. “C’mon. Let's shoot through a couple boxes, get you comfortable. I’ll take you to lunch when we’re done.”

“I thought you packed lunch.”

“Yeah, well. I wanna treat you.”

“You spoil me.”

“I know,” he says, affecting an exasperated sigh. He disentangles himself from you, quickly loading the magazine for your pistol and sliding it over to you. He nods towards the gun you had fired earlier. “That’s why I bought that for you.”

That little shit. You should have known he’d pull something like this.

You open your mouth to argue, but Leon seats a magazine into Matilda and turns to face the target again. “Going down. Earmuffs on.”

Bastard won’t even let you argue about it.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy #x reader

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abandonedography · 5 months

Text

Bastard Countryside by Robert Friend

#abandoned #ship #photography

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visenyaism · 1 month

Note

what triggered the daemon riverlands suicide bender again? like did he have a falling out with rhaenyra?

well the book doesn’t say a ton about what happened between them and it’s all made more confusing by the fake historical perspective and weird misogynistic characterization of rhaenyra and mysaria but. fire and blood unserious as it is establishes basically this sequence of events:

-once daemon and rhaenyra get to king’s landing he brings mysaria to court. they’re fucking every night which rhaenyra is seemingly fine with (surprisingly this bit is not a mushroom quote)

-rhaenyra makes a plan to end the war that includes daemon and nettles going and finding aemond in the riverlands to go kill him. unclear whose idea this was or whose idea it was to bring nettles also.

-daemon and nettles hole up in maidenpool because they can’t seem to find the worlds largest dragon actively terrorizing the countryside anywhere. they are weirdly close. because he’s grooming her. they cannot find aemond so theyre stuck like this for weeks. in my mind this is where daemon starts to lose the plot and just not have an exit strategy.

-two of the other dragonseeds betray rhaenyra and join up with daeron the not appearing in this narrative to sack tumbleton. rhaenyra reacts by charging up about 5% of the bastardphobia within the heart of the average team green twitter user and is like okay they are treacherous and base due to their bastard nature they all have to die right now.

-including nettles. rhaenyra sends a letter to the lord of maidenpool saying hey you have to kill this child my husband is obsessed with who is living under your roof i don’t care about guest rite i don’t care about him retaliating against you for this i am literally the king you gotta do it. don’t kill daemon though. xx rhaenyra

-this alienates daemon from rhaenyra permanently though he does take the time to call mysaria a whore and blame her for this too. what an upstanding guy.

-anyways the next morning nettles takes off out of the narrative on her lonesome and daemon tells the lord of maidenpool “this is the last you are ever going to see of me. tell aemond i’m at harrenhal” we can tell at this point there is no exit strategy but for:

-daemon engages in murder-suicide with his nephew who thinks they’re having a fight.

what do we learn about daemon from this? well that he has problems and also doesn’t ever have a long term plan

#i don’t understand the ‘she was like his daughter’ anti-grooming defense because like. yeah he has a thing for younger female relatives #a 16 yr old peasant girl going on an unsupervised indefinite field trip with a 50 yr old prince is what we would refer to as a problem #asoiaf #hotd spoilers #(?)

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blue-jisungs · 2 months

Text

ballroom extravaganza

author's note. my dudes ir might be my fav banner i’ve ever did!!

summary. he’s one step closer to you on the ballroom extravaganza

word count. 1563

warnings, genre. royal/medieval-ish vibes? kinda angsty if u look at it :) ;; lower class!dk, royal-ish!y/n, alcohol consumption

the room was beautifully decorated. good ornaments everywhere: candlesticks, long curtains falling onto the wooden floor like waterfalls, the chandeliers. the railings and cornices on the ceiling shone with a goldish glint too; even the champagne in his glass reflected with it.

seokmin examined the dresses and suits of people surrounding him, all of them wearing the most exquisite and elegant clothing. after all such a ball was an opportunity to shine. he wasn’t any different – black smoking adorning his body, the brown hair on his head styled with gel.

nevertheless, he felt uneasy; he knew he didn’t belong here. no matter the clothes he was wearing or if his hairstyle was fashionable, it was all a cover. seokmin’s heart pounded with anxiety that eventually someone will discover that he’s a simple man from the lower class.

the champagne turned bitter in his mouth as he tried to drink his thoughts away. the taste of such exclusive alcohol made him realize it’s probably the first and last time he’s drinking it.

then he came to a conclusion that he’d rather be tonight.

seokmin made up his mind (rather seungkwan, his younger assistant, knocked some sense into his head… quite literally, with his fists) and decided to confess to you.

because truth be told, he knew you two wouldn’t form a relationship even in his wildest dreams. seokmin was a very regular lower class teacher from the countryside and you; oh, you. you were the daughter of a rich landlord who held an important role in the local government.

the sudden realization hit him like gust of cold wind and yet again he felt strange in this place, where everything was huge, expensive and out of his world.

seokmin felt grateful he could even look at it or at you.

he met you through jihoon, a musical genius who once was passing by seokmin’s village and heard him singing. that’s when they met – jihoon was amazed by his voice and singing abilities, nagging him to train. he offered to do it for free at the beginning since he knew that seokmin can barely afford new shoes.

soon enough jihoon took his pupil to his musical studio in the capital. pianos, guitars, flutes… even a harp! it all made seokmin speechless. but it didn’t leave him as half as flattered in comparison with your meeting.

the delicate sound of the harp filled the room, seokmin holding his breath. he watched mesmerised how one of jihoon’s students moved his fingers and ever-so-gently nudged the strings.

jihoon’s brows were knitted as he nodded, listening carefully. as a teacher, he was terrifying. as a private person… he was scary. but despite the cold mask, seokmin saw through him and noticed a pure, gold heart. he got here somehow in the first place, no?

suddenly, there was a sound of door slamming open which halted the peaceful atmosphere. jihoon let out a sigh and looked up, seokmin’s gaze following his. then, he saw you.

your face was so beautiful that he genuinely thought like he was hallucinating. the e/c eyes sparkling with excitement and a huge smile painting on your lips, h/c hair flowing elegantly on your arms. your dress was pretty too; even from the first glance anyone could tell you’re rich. the pinks and whites contrasting together, creating a princess aura–

“jihoonah, you bastard! why didn’t you tell me you’re back in town, you little rodent?!” you whined and seokmin’s eyes widened in shock. well, he didn’t expect - and met, so far - any girl behaving like that here.

jihoon stood up and walked up to you, placing a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“ugh, can you not? we’ve talked about this before” you whined and the man just giggled.

“y/n, this is seokmin. seokmin, this is miss y/n. normally, she isn’t behaving like a spoiled brat but apparently she only does around me. now… joshua, did i tell you to stop playing?” the last question cut through air like a sharp knife. joshua, jihoon's student, quickly returned to play the harp. seokmin used this moment to steal a few more glances at you, visibly whipped.

“hello” you said shyly, realizing just now that jihoon isn’t alone. seokmin stands up and bows gently.

“it’s my pleasure to meet you” he grinned and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but smile too.

“now, seokmin. remember when i said there’s a purpose for your presence here? you’ll be y/n’s new singing teacher. i will leave because of the upcoming opera in paris and miss y/n has to have a teacher. even though you’re not that professional, you do have a natural talent” jihoon announced, your eyes widening in shock.

“you’re… leaving?” you asked.

“me… a teacher?” seokmin muttered, flabbergasted.

suddenly the crowd had come to a halt, his eyes meeting yours across the ballroom. he smiled and you excused the person who was talking to you, approaching him.

looking beautiful, as always, his heart sped up. the puffy beige dress was elegant yet nothing too fancy to make you stand out. however, seokmin thought that you were the prettiest here; looking like royalty.

“min!” you grinned and bowed gently. all words and thoughts unexpectedly disappeared from his brain, vanishing into thin air.

“y/n… miss y/n” he stuttered out, palms staring to her sweaty. you sent him a reassuring smile.

“you must feel so… overwhelmed. you look nervous. and handsome too, by the way. let’s get some air, teacher” you put your hands together; even your posture being graceful as if you were a carved marble statue.

“no, no. i’m fine. i wanted to talk to you about one concern that… has been on my mind” seokmin finally managed to word out something. your brows furrowed ever so gently and you nodded.

“i see. i, too, have an announcement to share” a quiet mumble left your lips, almost getting lost in the rustle of the room.

now it was his turn to frown. you seemed rather upset.

“go first, please” you gestured with your head. he saw jihoon coming towards you.

“let’s go to the dance floor, i see a predator approaching” you giggled and before jihoon (the predator in question) could open his mouth, you snatched seokmin’s hand and landed in the middle of the dance floor.

“i shouldn’t… dance with you. what will people say?” he mumbled, putting his hand on your hip gently as if we was afraid that he’ll hurt you.

“i couldn’t care less, min. we’re friends. what was it you wanted to say?” you asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. he took a deep breath, hoping you didn’t feel how clammy his hands got.

“y/n, i think… no, i’m certain. i’m certain that i like you more than a friend” seokmin answered. if you were surprised, you didn’t let it show.

just swaying to the rhythm of music (that was slowly building up), you let the words sink in your mind. then he noticed your gaze wandering around the room, stopping upon a certain point.

“i- i know we wouldn’t work out but i just- i’ve been mesmerized by you ever since you bursted into jihoon’s classroom door and i can’t… can’t stop thinking about you” he breathed out, trying to save the situation.

the music tempo sped up a bit, you looked him in the eye.

“seokmin, you’re a really cute guy. perfect, if you think about it. caring, loves to work with kids, patient. and… it’s not- it’s not even about you being from the countryside” you smiled softly and when the music came to a climax, making the pairs come to a halt – and so did his heart too upon hearing your next words “jihoon proposed to me”

the world stopped. seokmin felt his smile disappear, air flowing out of his lungs. ringing in his ears got as annoying as a mosquito buzzing around his ear.

“he got filthy rich after the opera display in paris. my dad forced me to agree so… we’ll announce it today, hence the ball. and then…” you gulped, fingers drumming against his arms.

“then what?” he choked out. his heart just got crashed into millions of pieces that he will never be able to put together.

“then we’ll get married in paris and stay there. jihoon signed a contract with the theatre” you added quietly. staring at you, seokmin felt weak.

you know all the words to the play

but alliI wanted was you to stay

your time is running thin

'cause i'm falling through the cracks under your floor

“seokmin, i’m sorry but… i can’t say no” you said, voice cracking. it was getting hard to breathe but he managed to pull the best smile he coulf.

“i understand. you’re a part of me… now you’ll just be apart from me. but… it’s fine. good luck in the new chapter of your life” he hummed, heart aching so painfully he thought he’s dying.

he let you go, stepping aside.

you're one step closer to me

on the ballroom extravaganza

i know you won't find me anymore

i triеd to reach for you once more

seokmin walked away, deciding to leave the room. he only heard jihoon walking up to you. feeling your gaze burning through his back, he made a mental promise to not turn back.

but thе world came crashing to the ground.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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brummiereader · 10 months

Text

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART SEVEN/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: Tommy's anger rains down on Y/N as her punishment for leaving him takes his brutality to a new level.

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood, murder, violence, psychological mind games, toxic marriage, psychological abuse, adult themes, controlling behaviour, Dark!Tommy (this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Face to face with your husband, his gun pointing straight at you, you stood there along the deserted country lane as you watched his face contour with anger, the veins in his neck protruding as the blood in his body tried to keep up with his escalating fury. All the eerie calmness had left him, he was seething with anger, his teeth gritted as he stared you down, the hunt was over, his prey at his mercy. Closing your eyes you steadied your breathing as you took in the faint sounds of the surrounding countryside. The smell of wild flowers filled your senses, the sound of birds chirping over head muffled the noise of your husbands heavy breathing, a light summer breeze sent goosebumps through your body as a calmness swept over you, you was ready.

" LOOK AT ME!" Tommy shouted as your eyes stayed shut. "FUCKING LOOK AT ME Y/N!" he said again, his voice trembling as he tried to control his mounting anger.

"Just do it Tommy! " You cried as you opened your eyes, the calmness of a peaceful death slowly disappearing from you.

" What...you think I'm gonna kill you, you're my wife!" Tommy shouted as his hand gripped the gun tighter, sweat coating his fingers as his knuckles turned an opaque white. "I love you and you left me, you fucking LEFT ME!" Tommy yelled as he lowered his gun, striking you across the face with his other hand, the force of it sending you to the ground.

" FUCKKK!" Tommy shouted as he looked down at you, tears streaming down your cheeks as you held on to your reddened face. "Look what you made me do!" Tommy said pulling you up from the ground, his hands grabbing hold of your arms as he looked at the end result of his untameable anger.

" I..I can't do this anymore " you pleaded with him as you felt your body go limp, Tommy's unyielding grip the only thing holding you up. "Let me leave Tommy...please, let me leave or just end it for me"

" You're not going anywhere Y/N, do you understand? I will not let you leave neither freely nor by my hand. You're mine, and you'll stay with me"

" Y/N!" You heard Polly's voice say from behind you as she ran down to where you and Tommy were standing, Tommy's grip on your arms loosening as he slowly let go.

"Oh love, we've all been so worried about you, come here let me look at you" she said, her eyes widening as she pulled your hand from your swollen face." You fucking bastard!" Polly shouted, repeatedly hitting her nephew across his chest as Tommy tried to grab hold of her wrists.

" I fell Polly!...I fell" you said moving in between her and Tommy, shielding your husband from his Aunt's anger.

" That's what they all say" she replied, ready to lunge at him once again.

" It's true Polly, I swear it... I, I slipped running down the path" you said turning around to look at Tommy, his eyes bearing down at you whilst he placed his hand on your lower back, a shiver running through your body in response to his touch.

" Running? Running from him!" Polly said moving you out the way as she pointed at her nephew. "I know what you have been up to Thomas Michael Shelby. Your games end now. I will not let you torment this girl any longer. I warned you you'd push her away, and that's exactly what you did" Polly said as she grabbed your arm, walking you back up the hill with her.

" Polly stop, Its not like that, I love him" you said pulling away from her, your head turning around to see Tommy stood there staring at you, his hands in his pockets as a devilish look settled in his eyes. Your punishment would be far worse if you left your husband for a second time, even Polly wouldn't be a able to save you from that. You had to return to him. Turning around you began walking back down to your husband, placing your hands on his chest as you leaned in to press your lips to his in a show of loyalty, one you hoped Tommy would remember when he would unleash his retribution on you.

" Nice try darling, that was quite the show" he whispered to you as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to his face as he crashed his lips back on to yours in an embrace fueled by anger and control.

" See Polly, everything is how it should be. Things just got a little overwhelming for you, didn't they sweetheart?" Tommy said letting go of you, a smirk forming on his lips as he took your hand into his, walking you back to the school playing the game you had now started.

" Y/N...Y/N!" Robert shouted as he ran over to you. "Get off her!" he yelled pushing Tommy away from you. A small laugh left your husbands lips in amusement at Roberts bold show of fearlessness or as Tommy thought, foolishness. Did he not know who he was? Lighting a cigarette Tommy watched as Robert's eyes darted between yours and your bruised cheek.

" Tell my Y/N, did he do that to you?" he said squinting his eyes as he looked at your battered face.

" Robert stop, you need to stop" you said in a hushed voice your eyes darting between him and Tommy whose stare was now narrowing in on you both, his body tensing up as he watched on.

" I'll call the Police, we can get you away from him. God, look at your face..." he replied as his hand reached up to cradle your cheek in his palm, concern filling his eyes. A caring gesture to anyone else, but not to your husband. To Tommy, he had had just done the unthinkable, he had just signed his own death warrant. With your eyes widening you pulled Roberts hand away from your face as your stare fixed on your husband throwing his cigarette on the ground, storming over to you both.

" Tommy no!" Polly shouted as she watched the scene play out, unable to hold her nephew back.

" Did you fuck my wife!? Did you?!" Tommy shouted as he punched Robert in the face, repeatedly kicking him in his ribs as he lay down on the graveled car park. Snapping his head around, Tommy's anger now turned to you. Grabbing you by your arms he walked you backwards until you hit the door of his car, his body pressed firmly against yours as he breathed into your ear.

"Got a taste of dick and now you want more, like a common whore" he seethed through gritted teeth, his hands digging into your skin as you shook your head, wincing at the pain.

" Tommy he's just a friend, nothing happened, please..."

" You don't have friends Y/N, you have me, you only need me" he said as he turned his head to watch Polly helping Robert up from the ground. Clenching his jaw Tommy looked over your face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, forcing a smile through the anger that coursed through his veins.

"You think he can make you feel the way I do" he said as he pressed his cheek to yours, his arm hooking around your back, bringing you closer to him.

"Do you remember how good it felt, hmm?" He said as his hand traveled down your body grabbing the inside of your upper thigh, a groan leaving his mouth. "The way I made you moan, how you begged for it" he whispered quietly in your ear, his hand squeezing your delicate flesh as a smirk grew on his lips. Turning your head to your husband, you was met with a darkness overtaking his eyes, a darkness you knew was seconds from making it's presence known, it's chosen victim, Robert. Darting your eyes to your friend, you watched as he stared back at you, tears running down your face as you silently begged him to flee from his fate. "You're mine Y/N, you belong to me" Tommy seethed as he grabbed your chin to face him. "What I'm about to do is your fault sweetheart, you remember that"

Letting go Tommy walked backwards as Polly came rushing to your side, pleading with you to look away. With no show of apprehension Tommy pulled out his gun from its holster as he turned to face Robert. With a smirk on his face Tommy pulled the trigger killing Robert instantly, execution style, point blank in the head. Jolting at the sound of the gun you blinked as tears fell down your eyes, your ears ringing from the sound of the gunshot as Polly's shouts muffled in your ears. You felt numb, motionless, unable to move or speak as Tommy continued to stare you down, waiting for your reaction. But he didn't get one, instead you looked down at your arm, as you stared at the drops of blood covering your skin staining you forever with the death of your friend, a death that was your fault.

" Y/N we need to go!" Polly said pulling at your arm, pulling you from whatever other-wordly state you had entered. "Tommy!" She shouted trying to get her nephews attention as he lit a cigarette, placing it between his lips as he inhaled a large drag of the sweet tobacco.

" Nobody touches my wife" he said throwing the half smoked cigarette beside Roberts lifeless body as he casually walked away.

Sitting in the back of the car on your way to Arrow House, you looked out the window in a daze, dried tears pulling at your skin as you stayed silent. The distant sound of Polly's panicked voice trying to come up with a plan muted in your ears as the ringing from the gunshot still rattled your brain. You dared not look away from the window, the crushing feeling of Tommy's eyes glaring at you through the rear view mirror burned through your skin, tempting you with curiosity to look his way. What did you think would happen when Tommy found out? Had you gotten so caught up in your new life that you had let your guard down enough to forget your husband's brutality? Roberts death was the result of your actions, an innocent life taken away unjustly, viciously, all at the hands of your husband, hands that were now gripping hold of the steering wheel in front of him, a grip you knew you would soon feel on your own skin, for Tommy had only just gotten started.

Pulling into Arrow house your husband ordered Polly to call his men to dispose of Roberts body as he dragged you out the car walking you into the house you never thought you would step back in, his hold on your arm painfully tight.

Marching you up the stairs Tommy threw open your bedroom door, your eyes widening at the almost empty room, the only thing occupying it was the bed you had shared, your satin night gown neatly folded on top of it. Everything else had been removed, the curtains drawn, the bathroom closed off, it was a prison cell, a cell where Tommy intended to keep you. Pushing you in, he slammed the door behind him as he marched forward grabbing you by your waist as he ripped the bloodied clothes from your body with his other hand.

" Your perfume still lingers on it" he said sarcastically, shoving your night gown into your hands as he looked up and down your body, his tongue pressing on the roof of his mouth as he watched you get changed.

" Tommy I'm sorry" you sobbed, as you reached your hand out to touch his cheek in a desperate attempt to avoid the punishment you had coming your way.

" You won't fool me with that shit a second time" Tommy said as he grabbed you by your wrist stopping you from touching him.

" Is this your big plan, keep me prisoner in this room!" you shouted as Tommy turned away from you, heading for the door. " Polly knows Tommy, she knows what you have been doing to me. The great Thomas Shelby's mask has finally slipped! You can't get away with it this time, you shot a man, everyone can now see you for the monster you are" Marching back to you, Tommy grabbed you by your chin as you held onto his arm for balance.

" You think that bastard is the first man I've killed, hm?" This is what we do love this is who we are, Polly will do nothing. And you, you will stay here in this fucking room, until I say otherwise!" he said letting go of you as he stormed out the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him as the sound of a key turning on the opposite side secured his sadistic plan. You was at his mercy, your fate now shackled to the four walls around you.

Later that night as you lay in bed you heard the door to the bedroom open, your husbands heavy footsteps approaching you as the sound of each item of clothing hitting the floor echoed through the empty room.

" Sit up Y/N. I know you're awake" he said as you turned around to face him, your eyes darting to the gun still in its holster carelessly sitting on top of the bed.

" Don't get any ideas. Now give me your hand" he said as he watched your eyes move from the gun to him. Taking your wrist Tommy pulled it closer to him as your eyes widened at the sight of your wedding ring in his other hand. As Tommy slipped the ring securely onto your finger, panic quickly rose within you, how did he find it?

" Tommy how did you..." You said as he interrupted you.

" How did I find it?" he replied, a smirk on his lips as he sat down next to you. " We found your little hideaway Y/N. The lovely Mr and Mrs Riley and their sweet baby boy welcomed us in" he added as you brought your hand to your mouth, tears welling in your eyes. Had he killed them like he had killed Robert?

"What, you think I'd kill an innocent baby and his parents, I'm not a monster Y/N" he said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as he got under the sheets. But he was a monster, committing the most monstrous act only a few hours ago, how could he not see it, did he really believe Robert deserved to die?

" Lay down" he said as he reached his hand out for you.

" And my mother, where's my mother Tommy, is she dead?" You asked, your voice croaking from the countless tears you had spent crying for your friend.

"I said lay down"

" Tommy..."

" No, now do as I say" he answered as he sat back up, irritated by your relentless questions.

" I need to use the bathroom" you announced, throwing the bed sheets of you as you stood up.

" Then go, right there" Tommy said pointing to a small ceramic pot in the corner of the room.

" Tommy no, I won't. Let me use the bathroom, please"

" You don't have a choice sweetheart, you can't be trusted, can you?" he replied a chuckle leaving his lips as you continued to stand there defiantly. Quickly growing inpatient, Tommy got up storming over to you, grabbing you by the arm as he led you to the corner of the room.

" Go" he said as he pushed you closer to the wall.

" I won't with you here" you replied standing your ground. With a smirk playing on his lips Tommy reached under your night gown tearing your underwear from your bare skin as he pushed you down onto the chamber pot. Shame covered your face as tears started to fall down your cheeks, his cruelness only embarrassing you more when he sat at the end of the bed watching you.

"Now come to bed" he said as you got up, pulling your dress back down over your body as you sheepishly walked back over to him.

With Tommy now laying behind you, his arm securely wrapped around your stomach, you looked down at the gun in his hand as it rested on your body. You were inches from death. At any given moment Tommy could decide to end your life, all with the pull of a trigger.

" Now go to sleep or else you won't get the surprise I have planned for you tomorrow" he said as you felt his lips smile against the flesh of your neck, his arm tightening around your body. Closing your eyes you listened to the constant drumming of your beating heart in your ears as fear overtook every emotion you possessed. There was no way out of this, no way to escape it, you would have to face the punishment you was due.

The next morning your woke up to the feeling of Tommy kissing your neck, his fingers roaming over the curves of your body as he dipped his hand under your night dress, grabbing at your soft skin.

" I need the bathroom" you said urgently as you stood up not wanting to be held in his arms any longer. Running his hands through his hair Tommy clenched his jaw in frustration as he grabbed his clothes, storming out the room. His desire for you had not faded, if anything he had become more persistent with his attempts. Having already had a taste of what he constantly longed for, his greed for you was consuming him. He wanted more, and after two months away from you he was close to breaking point.

The hours passed by as you laid in bed, looking up at the ceiling as you counted the cracks in the painted plaster. Your thoughts were the only thing keeping you company, setting you on edge as you played through the previous day's events over and over again in your head, unable to escape them.

The sound of a door slamming suddenly caught your attention as you instantly sat up, your nerves so heightened that the noise of a pin drop would have you jolting up. Walking over to the window you wrapped one of the bed sheets around your body as you gave the handle a tug in hopes it would magically open. Looking down you quickly noticed Tommy standing by a horse trailer a cigarette in his mouth as he looked up at the window like he had been waiting for you to appear. Your eyes darted to the left as you watched your beautiful white mare unexpectedly appear. Taking the rope from the stable boy, Tommy patted the horse down as he lifted her leg, inspecting her hoof. With your hands pressed firmly against the window you watched as the scene played out in silence unable to hear what Tommy was saying to the stable boy. Giving the lead back, Tommy looked up at you as you watched your horse walk into the box, your eyes widening as he pulled out his gun from its holster, pointing it into trailer.

" Tommy no no NO!!" You shouted as you slammed your hands against the window tears cascading down your cheeks. Mere seconds later the sound of one single gun shot resonated through the estate as you grabbed hold of the windowsill, cries leaving your throat as you listened to your horse dying. He had killed her.

" You bastard!" You screamed pounding your hands on the glass as Tommy just stood there looking up at you unbothered by reaction as the sound of a car making its way down the drive gained his attention more than your cries. With your eyes streaming with tears, you watched the truck pulling the trailer drive off as the other car pulled in front of the house.

It was like a movie playing out before your eyes, one scene following the other, his onslaught of torment never ending, and you was the sole spectator, this wall all for you. As Tommy opened the passenger door you watched as an elderly woman with a cane stepped out. She looked thin, struggling to keep her balance as Tommy held her up, helping her out the car. With his arm around her back Tommy looked up at you as you furrowed your brow in confusion. And suddenly it hit you, the frail woman standing below you was your mother, or at least what was left her.

" Mother, mother!" You shouted as you walked along the window following them both as they made their way to the front door. The sound of you banging on the window quickly caught Tommy's attention as he looked up to see your frantic state as you desperately tried to get your mother to notice you. With a smile on his face Tommy pointed ahead of him as your mother nodded her head in response.

" No! no..." you cried with a trembling bottom lip whilst your eyes watched them walk out your view, your body surging with adrenaline at the thought of what Tommy might do. Pacing back and forth in your room, you bit down on your nails, down to the flesh as panic overtook your body when you suddenly heard the door to your bedroom open.

" You fucking bastard!" you said running over to Tommy as you started hitting him repeatedly across his chest with as much force as you could summon.

" Hey stop, fucking stop. If you calm down I'll..." he tried to say as he held you tightly in his arms restricting you from landing anymore blows to his body. But you had no intention of stopping, pushing him off you ran past him and out the bedroom door that he had precariously left open.

"Y/N!" Tommy shouted as you ran down the stairs to the living room where you saw your mother sitting in one of the arm chairs, a cup of tea in her hand as she talked with Frances.

" Mother" you wept as you ran over to her wrapping her in your arms as you knelt down beside her.

" Darling, be careful dear I have a hot cup of tea in my hands" she chuckled as Tommy ran into the room swallowing harshly as he tried to catch his breath.

" Frances out" Tommy said breathless as his eyes darted to where you was.

" Are you ok? Are you hurt? You look..."

" I'm fine dear, calm down. Your husband has been taking good care of me, I've got the best doctors in town, isn't that right Tommy?" She said as your turned around to look at your husband staring down at you, a glint of anger in his eyes as he nodded his head. " I'm more worried about you, look at you dear" Closing your dressing gown tighter around your body, you looked down at yourself, you looked terrible if not worse than her.

" I'm fine, I.. I"

" Maybe you should go back to bed Y/N? You can see your mother another day" Tommy said approaching you, his heavy hand gripping your shoulder as you looked back at your mother, tears welling in your eyes. Not wanted to worsen her frail state anymore you simply nodded as you leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Before you could stand up she placed her hand to your face as she looked in your eyes, a small flicker of concern building within her stare.

" Why are you crying darling?" She said as you wiped away your tears. "Is it because of your horse? She was lame dear, she was suffering" your mother said as she cradled your cheek.

" Lame..." You repeated as Tommy's gripped tightened on your shoulder. Had your mother not been told you had ran away? Something wasn't right, she wasn't acting herself.

" It was a mercy Y/N" Tommy said as he pulled you up, bringing you into his side.

" Get some rest dear, we will see eachother soon" your mother said as you nodded, holding back the tears stinging your eyes. Would you see her again, was this the last time, another mercy? You thought to yourself as Tommy led you out the room his hand firmly placed on the small of your back.

"Don't you ever fucking do that again" Tommy seethed in your ear slamming you against the wall the moment the door closed. "If you do, it will be the last time you ever see daylight, understood?"

" Yes.. Tommy" you nodded as he dragged you back up to the bedroom, back to your prison cell.

Looking out the window into the dark night sky you waited for the inevitable moment your husband would walk back through the bedroom door. Fear and anxiety were consuming you, the past twenty four hours had been the worst of your life. Tommy's relentless campaign of punishment had no signs of ending. He was adamant on making you pay for what you did. Turning around you slammed your hands onto the bed screaming into your pillow as a small release of tension left your body. Wiping the tears away, you stood up walking back over to the window as you looked at your reflection in the glass. Pushing your hair back, you brushed the final tears from your cheeks as you pulled your silk dressing gown back over your shoulder. You watched yourself as you traced your fingers over your collarbone, skimming them down your cleavage as a small smile formed on the corners of your mouth. You may not be able to stop Tommy's continuous torment, but you could get back at him in the only way you knew how, it was time for him to suffer.

An hour later the door to your bedroom opened as your husband walked in. Standing on the opposite side of the bed you slowly approached him as you reached your hands out, brushing them along his chest. Looking down at you Tommy scoffed in response as he pushed past you.

" You don't want me anymore Tommy?" You questioned, a small laugh leaving his lips in response as he shook his head, unwilling to play along.

" Do you remember how it felt?" You mocked, whilst you watched his hands rest on his hips as he turned to face you, his jaw clenching in annoyance . "Isn't this what you want?" you said as you undid the front of your night gown your naked body now on display. Looking over your body, Tommy's lips parted as he slowly drank you in. You was getting to him, it was already working. With a primal urge already building within him, he walked forward to you, trapping you between his body and the wall as his hands came to sit on your waist.

" You want me to fuck you?" He said as he pressed his body firmly against yours, his hand moving up your flesh as he cupped your breast. Pushing his hand away, Tommy grinned playfully in response as he moved his fingers back up your body.

" My way or nothing" you replied pushing him off you for a second time. Grinding his teeth Tommy's hand reluctantly fell to his side without saying another word.

"Is this what you want from me?" you repeated once more as you pulled his shirt out his suit trousers, undoing the button fastening them together. Sliding your hand into his briefs you began stroking him up and down, a moan leaving his lips as he stumbled forward.

" Fuck" he said in response as he licked his bottom lip, looking down at your hand wrapped around his hard length.

" I want to be in you" he moaned pathetically as he placed his hand on the wall behind you to steady himself. Shaking your head you continued to move your hand over his length as Tommy's lips found your neck, kissing up and down your soft flesh as he groaned into your skin. " Fuck, don't stop I'm already close..." he said between moans as you picked up the pace, the increased throbbing in your palm only confirming his imminent release. With his high quickly approaching, you pumped your hand up and down at a speed he could no longer handle, his eyes scrunching shut in response as a groan built in his throat.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum..." As soon as the words left his mouth you removed your hand robbing him of his desperate release, robbing him of the satisfaction he thought he deserved. With a smirk on your face you pushed past him closing your dressing gown around your body, leaving him there as he breathed heavily through his teeth, his hand on the wall forming a fist as frustration boiled under his skin. You had belittled him like he had done with you, played with him like he had with you and you took pleasure in your torment of him like he had done countless times with you. Walking over to the bed you laid down pulling the covers over your body as Tommy slammed his fist into the wall, he's head turning to face you as he clenched his jaw in anger, you had toyed with him and he was furious. Marching towards you, Tommy ripped the covers from your body as he loomed over you, his knees either side of your legs as his hands pinned yours down.

" You're playing a dangerous game Y/N"

" A game you've been playing from day one Tommy" you seethed back, confidence growing in you but not enough to hold back the tears forming in your eyes.

" If you think you can do something like that and get away with it, you haven't been paying attention sweetheart"

" And you think you can do everything you've done to me in the past three months without me ever reacting to it. You're so weak Tommy, look at you, you're desperate for it"

" What? You think I won't take it. I'll take what I want when I want Y/N, you're my wife, it's your duty" he said as he reached his hand down in between your legs. "Are you wet?" He smirked, a laugh leaving his lips as he tried to humiliate you once again. Through gritted teeth you tried to push him off, your efforts futile as the weight of his body continued to hold you down.

" But you won't Tommy, I know you won't" you said as your head hit the pillow breathless, a scoff leaving Tommy's lips in response as his fingers dug further into your wrists.

" Oh yeh, and why's that darling?" He replied grinding his hips on top of your clothed body as he kissed along your jaw.

" Because the Tommy I fell in love with all those years ago is still in there, I know he is" you sobbed, turning your head to face him as you tried to find any humanity left in him. " Where's the sweet boy from Watery Lane Tommy? He would never do something like that"

" Dead" Tommy said, his movements suddenly coming to a stop as he let go of you whilst an unfamiliar look spread across his face. Climbing off the bed Tommy buttoned his trousers back up, tucking his shirt back into the waistband as he walked to the door.

" You will learn to love me again Y/N" he said taking one last look at you as he left the room, locking the door behind him.

Laying back you pulled the covers up to your chin as you turned to the side brushing the tears from your face. Tommy would never let you leave, you were chained to him indefinitely, his parting words only emphasizing his hold on you. If you wanted to survive you would have to do as he said, you would have to learn to love him again.

It was the middle of the night when you awoke to the sudden noise of someone banging on your bedroom door.

" Why is this fucking thing locked, open it!" you heard Johns voice say to whoever was stood next to him as the sound of a key turned on the opposite side of the door.

"Y/N.." he said as he ran to you, his eyes quickly darting around the almost empty room in confusion as he rushed to your side.

" John...what's going on?" You said as you sat up half asleep, your brow scrunched in confusion at John's sudden appearance.

"It's Tommy, he's been shot"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #killing me softly #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #Dark!Tommy #dark fic #tommy shelby x you #Thomas shelby

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justpoliteconversations · 3 months

Text

Glory Bound [Chain + Mercenary!Reader]

They'd tried to hire you as a guide. That's not what you're paid to do.

Another round of nonsense for the trash heap.

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to disclose. Be warned.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Perhaps the majority of your brethren would have been content to play guide for a few days. Travel around the (admittedly more dangerous) parts of the map, point out a few potential monster nests, sit back while your employers did their hunting (their duty, they'd said) and then go spend the rupees that had been all but handed to you.

Easy. The easiest job you've ever been offered. Except it was a goddess-damned joke because that was not what you had trained until your damned eyes bled to do. You were a warrior, a mercenary, a born and raised killer, not a guide to a bunch of ignorant castle knights seeking a good time in the countryside (because you weren't damned stupid, you recognized the symbol of arms on the posh one).

The scarred and tattooed ones seemed promising at least, though the pink haired one had a look in his eyes that made you reluctant to turn you back to him. It's the brows, perhaps. Suspicious looking motherfucker. Lobster kid was cute though, if a little young to be slugging it out with monsters. But who are you to judge. A babe could put an arrow between your eyes if it ever got the mind to (and if you were stupid, but that was besides the point).

When the eldest (big fucker, dressed down in armor heavy enough to make a man's bones creak) had approached you with a job you'd expected there'd be fighting and you'd been more then willing to take that challenge. You hadn't expected to be told to stay out of the way (man had more tack than that, but you called it for what it was) and just point them in the right direction.

You'd flat refused to his face, and took a certain measure of glee from his shocked expression. Because who the fuck did they think you were? This damned expensive armor you'd scraped and saved for was not for show. It was your badge of honor and how dare anyone take that from you.

The boss had talked you into it though, even cut a deal with the knights in your place since you weren't always good with words. You'd guide them on their merry way across the goddess forsaken places of this land you call home, and in exchange, they'd stay behind you.

"Your duty is to get rid of these unusual monsters, correct?" Boss man had said, so damned personable but you knew the old bastard could put a dozen men in the ground if he wanted. "Then so long as you witness their demise, it doesn't matter who swings the sword." Reluctantly, they had to agree the point. The fact that you were the only mercenary who knew the area outside of the trade routes well meant they didn't have much of a choice regardless. And so, you took the job, gave them the rundown on how they would stay behind you unless death came for your sorry hide and then off you went.

And thus you were here now, staring down a monster nest with mounting anticipation. Beside and behind you, you could feel their anticipation too, buzzing off their skin like an agitated bee's nest. The scarred one looked especially ready to bolt forward, stopped only by the pelted one's firm grip.

You cast a glance at the leader, and with an amused glance he called back his boys. Most gave unhappy frowns at the order, but a few looked interested in what you'd do. The smallest one (not a child) was the most open with his interest and a curly haired man in green was not far behind. The white caped one just looked concerned, but you paid him no mind.

The kid though? You couldn't decide if you trusted him not to run out into the battlefield (in your way) the moment things got exciting. He had that aura about him that spoke of bullheaded brashness. Though not as much as the scarred one, but as before pelt man seemed to have a good arm on him.

Whatever. It didn't really matter. You had a job to do, and so you got to it.

Walked right into the monster camp with your sword drawn. You could hear the disbelieving sounds behind you, but you paid them no mind. If they wanted a bowman they should have gotten a hunter. You intended to put this damned expensive armor to use.

The monsters were tougher than usual, you'll admit. Faster and stronger and a great deal smarter than you were used to around these parts. But, at the end of the day they were still just juiced up monsters. Same weaknesses, same strengths, same ugly mugs twisted in pain and death.

A few new faces, but not much different from anything else you've ever fought. And you'd fought a lot. So much you'd forgotten where you began and your sword ended. You'd forgotten what it felt like to feel the breeze of a chill night's wind on your skin. You'd forgotten what it meant to be human, what it meant to be mortal when it was just you and the thrill and an enemy in your face.

It was exhilarating to taste the sting of adrenaline on your tongue again, the strain of muscles against the force of such powerful blows.

No. Not just that. It was the first time in a damned long while you could say you were enjoying yourself. Not since the day you looked back and realized none of your peers had followed you up that damned mountain called Glory. The moment you realized you were alone in this pursuit. The moment you realized, standing above a vast, empty graveyard of black mist, that you had finally reached the top. And that you were alone.

You had reached the end of your journey, and yet you had hungered for more, more, more. Bigger. Stronger. Faster. Smarter. Better.

And now. After so long of nothing. After so damned long of soul draining stagnation.

Rapturous, wonderful glory.

It was a bloodbath. And you had bled. But they had bled more.

They'd been on you the moment you'd stepped foot into their camp. Three lizalfos-like creatures, a dozen or so bokoblines and a tall armored creature you hadn't encountered before. You welcomed them all.

The first to reach you were the lizalfos lookalikes, running full speed at you while the bokoblines played support as archers. The armored one stayed back at first, and you hoped it was as powerful as it thought itself to be.

The first lizard reached you, spear at the ready with a thrust. But you simply sidestepped, ramming your sword into it's throat as it glanced by. The spray of warm blood hit your face but you paid it no mind, swirling on your heel and ripping the spear from the now slack claws with the added momentum.

Another had come from your other side, but you rounded on it with the spear in hand, and using the momentum from the previous lizard's speed threw it with deadly force into the creature's chest. There was no time to stop and admire it's final pained snarls though, dodging down at the last moment just as another spear made for your head.

Still swirling, you lashed out your sword and got its legs, sending it down to its knees. Or it would have, if you hadn't grabbed it's tail last moment and used it as a counterweight to fling yourself out of range of an arrow. Unbalanced and reeling from the blow, it was helpless as you finally finished the twist to use it as a living shield against the other two arrows that had followed the first.

It died with a final jab to the jugular, disappearing into a fine mist of black. All in all, it had taken ten, maybe fifteen seconds. But that's just the nature of battles. They never lasted long.

And neither did the bokoblins. You had slashed them down before the big one had even made it to your location, one of them hadn't even the time to draw its sword before meeting yours.

And then, the armored one was on you. And you knew nothing then but the cold and hot and tingling pain of rapture.

It was big, it was strong, it was powerful in a way nothing you'd ever fought before had even come close. It was glorious.

Blows rained down on you with enough force to crush a man, swipes of its sword so quick and precise they were nearly impossible to counter. It beared down on you with the ferocity of a creature that knew no fear nor pain nor equal. A creature just like you.

You had one thing it didn't though. And that was a goddess-damned itch that needed scratching after too many damned years to recall with adrenaline flowing freely through your blood. Something to prove a monster like this could never understand.

You refused to yield a single, fucking inch.

You kept close, refusing it the leisure of range advantage. You stayed quick on your feet, faster than it even weighed down by armor. You let it bump and hit and attempt to bully you into proper fighting range, and you let it because you were going to get some use from this expensive damned armor even if it cost you an arm.

One direct strike, and you'd be dead. One glancing blow to an unguarded limb and you'd be maimed in an instant. But none of that mattered, because despite it all you still knew what this was.

This was an endurance battle, and knew the score. And you were going to drag this feast out for as long as you damn well could because you had a goddess-damned itch that needed scratching and this monster was doing it for you.

One minute. Two. Five. Ten. And then-

An arrow was suddenly in the slit of its helm, and it was disintigrating before your very eyes, and it was just fucking dead and you weren't the one who did it.

Slowly, you turned.

And there he was, the pink fucker with the fucking brows. Bow in hand and looking just as pissed as you felt.

"Oh, my fucking bad! You just looked like you were enjoying yourself so fucking much, I just thought I'd join the fun." He snarked, and you felt your anger manifest in a snarl.

You knew there was a reason you didn't like the look of him. Suspicious fucker.

But before you could open your mouth. "It's night, you overzealous fucker. Camp's already set up and we lost a whole day of travel because of you!" He snapped, and you held you tongue. You looked around.

Yup. Night. And a fire was glowing a little ways off, eight pairs of eyes watching from around the pit with open interest at the little drama unfolding before them. The youngest looked about salivating at the mouth as he pinned you with puppy eager eyes, and you knew sleep would not be granted easily this night. The scarfed, posh one too looked about ready to crack open your head and rummage around the insides for whatever secrets he thought you might be storing.

Ah. "Opps. My bad, man."

"Motherfucker! That's it?" Pinky harped with a truly thunderous frown, but you could hear outright laughter from the others not far off. The white caped one even seemed to be carving some sort of wooden figurine, so they mustn't be too upset, right?

"Yeah. Guess I got a little too excited about having a decent fight after so long." You admitted, because yeah, that was on you.

Pinky began cursing under his breath, stomping back to the camp with you not far behind. When you stepped into the firelight, the eldest one waved you over with an amused, but serious expression.

You went easily because this was your employer, you were in the wrong and because lobster boy look about ready to jump you the moment you got to his height. And, without an enemy to take your mind off the discomfort, you could tell you had definitely pushed yourself too far this time. You ached everywhere.

Worth it though.

You sat and the man put a companionable hand on your shoulder (you were about to be chastised, you could just feel it. fuck). "Next time we encounter enemies, you have ten minutes. If you're not finished by then, we join to clean up the rest." He smiled with his one eye, and you just bowed your head. Because yeah, your bad.

"Got it. Sorry Boss." You accepted easily, shame-faced.

He patted where his hand had been resting. "Good. Now, I'm sure the boys are eager to talk to you, Mr. Hero." He was being an asshole somehow, you could tell (there was an inside joke in there too, but you weren't privy to it). Sacrificing you to the wolves (you side-eyed lobster boy), and looking so damned harmless while doing it.

Damned ruthless, this one. You wanted to meet him on the battlefield, if things like that absolute unit of a beast are what these bastards fought for a living. They must be a whole new breed of monster and you were just rearing to meet them. Properly, with swords in hand and blood rushing wildly through your veins.

Suddenly, the top didn't look so lonely anymore. The clouds had finally parted and the world lay before you in all its splendor. So much bigger than it had ever been before.

And you were so ready to conquer it all.

For Glory. And the goddess-damned thrill.

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #mercenary reader

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