#he was like any other innocent kid and seeing that progression hurt so much. i could get into the details but ugh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leighsartworks216 · 1 year

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Not Guilty

Hobo Phoenix Wright & "adopted" gn!reader

(THIS IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC/FAMILIAL)

Just like,, hey what if Nick took in a kid that he defended once and now they trick themselves into believing they're guilty?? Hm what if??

Warnings: allusions to murder, blood mention, possible abusive family references

Word Count: 1245

Masterlist

AO3

The couch wasn't very comfortable. After so many years of use, the padding in the cushions was uneven and tough. It smelled faintly of noodles at all times. No matter how you shifted and twisted and turned, your back hurt. The blanket you used was scratchy and falling apart. And yet, you refused to go back to your own bed.

This awful cycle started years ago, after you were accused of murder. Nobody believed you, nobody wanted to defend you. You were at the mercy of the law, cold and harsh and deaf to your pleas.

But you were saved. Despite all the evidence framing you, all he asked was one question before deciding to defend you.

"Did you do it?"

He listened with a stern look on his face as you frantically described what happened, repeating over and over that you didn't kill them, it was all a big mistake. And then his face relaxed, and he smiled with determination.

"I believe you."

When you ran away from home, away from family members who stared at you from the corner of their eyes, waiting for you to kill them next, the only place you could think to go was the Wright and Co. Law Offices. Phoenix didn't sugar coat it - he wasn't rich, and he couldn't afford much more than basic amenities. But the trust he offered was more than enough.

Over time, a spare room was converted into a bedroom. You didn't mind sharing with Trucy once she came along. But as time progressed, the nightmares only seemed to get worse.

At first it was just haunting images of your family no longer trusting you, staring at you and whispering amongst each other, flinching with every small movement. Now, they screamed. Their voices echoed endlessly within your mind. Hands grabbed you and shook you and slapped you, cursing you for a crime you didn't commit. Nails dug into your flesh. And when your blood pooled onto the floor, all you saw was that body. That victim.

Tonight was the worst it's ever been. The screaming and grabbing you could handle. But seeing her there, exactly as you had after the murder took place. Leaning over her, a blood-soaked knife clutched tightly in your hands, and lifeless eyes staring into you while her dead mouth moved, asking why you did it, how you could take her life from her. It was too much.

A hand softly pressed into your shoulder, almost startling you despite how careful it had been. Phoenix stared at you with tired, worried eyes, leaning over the back of the couch to check on you. You couldn't look at them for very long. His eyes only reminded you of your dreams.

You listened attentively as he walked around the couch, feet padded with slippers that absorbed any sound. He tapped your legs. Like a practiced ballet, you moved them aside and he sat down, before plopping them into his lap.

He didn't say anything for a while. You thought he may have fallen asleep. Sometimes he did, though he usually provided enough comfort to chase out the worst nightmares. That wouldn't work this time. It felt like he knew; knew he couldn't just sit there and call it a night.

When he did speak, despite the low whisper it was, it cut through the dead silence like a shotgun blast. With a few words, the stagnant air of misconstrued truths and placating thoughts was banished.

"You didn't do it."

You swallowed. Slowly, as if he wouldn't notice, your hands gripped the blanket tighter.

"No matter what anybody thinks, you're innocent."

You squeezed your eyes shut, tightly. So tight you couldn't see the images that haunted you.

"No matter what you think, you didn't do it."

"She wouldn't have died if I hadn't been there!" Your voice came out hoarse. It was still a whisper. You were all too aware of Trucy sleeping just in the other room. You didn’t want to think of her sweet little face morphing into a terrified scream, running from you.

"You don't know that," he countered. "The real killer planned it to frame whoever came by next - He would just be framing some other innocent soul."

You knew it was true. Phoenix revealed as much during your trial. But some parasitic part of your brain refused to accept it. It gnawed on you, reminding you of every shred of evidence and testimony that threw doubt into your verdict. Maybe that old lady was right. Maybe she did see you stab her and you just repressed it. Maybe-

“You remind me of a friend of mine,” he said suddenly. It shocked you out of your downward spiral. When you opened your eyes to look at him in the dark, he was just staring ahead, at the growing pile of magic items. “He thought he was guilty of a crime that happened when he was just a kid. All because of some nightmares.”

You waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, you decided to ask the question burning your mind. “Was he? Was he guilty?”

Even in the dark, you could see the knowing smirk he got. “No. But he was so damn convinced of it. I revealed the truth in court, exposed the real killer for everything he did.”

“Then what happened?”

"... He ran away." He sighed and leaned further back into the couch. A distant sort of look came over his face, as though he was remembering something from long ago. "Honestly, I hated him for it."

You sat up, clutching the blanket to your chest, invested in what he was telling you. He never really spoke about the past. All you knew about him came from the present, from when you met him in the Detention Center to today. You wanted to know more.

"He ran because he felt guilty?"

Phoenix half shrugged. "He ran for a lot of reasons - reasons I didn't understand at the time. But," he looked at you, "I think that was part of it.

"Y'see, in that trial, everything he knew was turned on its head. For decades he thought he was guilty of a crime that someone close to him committed. That guilt changed his whole life, altered who he became and what he stood for. When I revealed the truth, for him, nothing else remained. There wasn't anything to fall back on. So he ran away to find who he could have been, and who he needed to become."

"So... Why do I remind you of him?"

"You remind me of him because you believe so strongly that you can't be innocent, even when the truth is laid bare." He patted your leg before shifting them off his lap so he could stand. He stretched, back popping in several places down his spine. "Get some sleep, kid. And do me a favor."

"A favor?"

When his arms fell from his stretch, they automatically found their way into his hoodie pockets. It was hard to believe he ever wore a suit looking at him now.

He grinned, softer this time. It was a look you'd seen before, when Trucy got upset when she couldn't do a magic trick, and he had to calm her down by suggesting they go out to Eldoon's.

"Don't believe you're guilty just because of some nightmares." He chuckled, prepared to tell a joke. "At least show some evidence to back it up, first."

#fanfic #fanfiction #ace attorney #ace attorney fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #phoenix wright #hobo phoenix wright #phoenix wright & reader #phoenix wright x reader #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #light angst #fluff #fatherly fluff #father figure #cross posted on ao3

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hugmekenobi · 9 months

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Ch7 Sneak Peek

Another lil something for any parties interested. I'm not far off from finishing this chapter!

“Hello, hello!”

You turned in the direction of the chipper voice and saw Phee waltz through the door.

“Phee!” Omega called out happily.

“Hey, kid!” She said with a wave before she made a beeline for you and Hunter. “How’s my favourite couple doing?”

“What do you want?” Hunter asked by way of answer.

“Straight to the point. That’s what I like about you, Bandana.” Phee charmed.

“What is it, Phee?” You asked again.

“I got word of a lead on-”

“Some sorta valuable, ancient artifact?” You and Hunter sussed.

Phee nodded. “I need some assistance following up. Was wondering if I could borrow you and Omega?”

“Yes!” Omega replied instantly but a sharp glance from Hunter told her she better hold off until she had official confirmation.

Your brow furrowed. “Why just us the two of us?”

“Typically, we do missions together.” Tech pointed out from the table you.

“Don’t worry, brown eyes. You’ll get your turn at some point.” She said.

Tech didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just focused his attention back to his datapad. He missed the smirks from his two brothers sitting across from him.

Phee now answered your question. “Figured it would be good for the kid to keep seeing new places and it’s a simple mission so little risk. And we made some progress back on Kaldar, let’s not lose that.” She left out that she wanted the time to also figure you and certain behaviours of yours out. There was something more to you that you that she needed to uncover.

“Okay.” You said hesitantly, still not fully satisfied with that answer but you sensed you weren’t going to get anything more.

Phee turned her attention back to the two of you. “What do ya say? I promise not to let either of your girls be hurt or led astray.” She told Hunter as a means to sweeten the deal.

Hunter focused his gaze on you. “If you want to go, you can go. I also have a feeling she won’t let you stay.”

Phee feigned a look of surprise.

You shrugged. “Gets me outta here for a little bit, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” Phee said with a roll of her eyes.

“And me? Please, Hunter?” Omega begged.

I’ll be an extra set of eyes, she’ll be alright.

Hunter sighed. He wasn’t thrilled by this by any means, but he had promised himself to give Phee a chance and you were going with them so that helped things a little. He nodded his permission.

Phee carefully observed you and Hunter. The two of you did it again. That secret, slightly above normal silent communication that seemed to go through you both with perfect understanding.

“Yes!” Omega whooped in victory before she gathered her stuff and darted towards the door.

“Where exactly are we going?” You queried.

“Nal Hutta.” Phee replied.

That made you pause but you covered it quickly. You heaved a sigh and pushed yourself up from your chair.

“Show some enthusiasm! This is going to be fun!” Phee said with a smile before she started to follow Omega out.

You made sure your armour and weapons were secure before you faced Hunter. You gave him a chaste kiss to the lips before his arms enveloped you in a hug.

“Be careful, yeah?” Hunter said as he released you.

“Hey, it’s me.” You said with an innocent grin.

“I know. That’s why I’m asking.” Hunter said, his tone light but the intent behind the words serious.

“I’ll be fine.” You said before you waved to the others and jogged to catch up with the other two.

“Nal Hutta, huh?” You repeated as you walked in the direction of her ship.

Phee cocked her head at you as she heard the slightly nervous way you spoke. “Yeah, not too rough for you, is it?”

You shot her a look. “No. There’s just… some people I’d rather not run into.”

“It’s a big place, the odds of that happening are low.”

“Tech gives much better estimations than you do.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure his sway on the more pessimistic side of things. That’s one thing you gotta learn about me, (Y/N), I like to look on the bright side.” She thumped your back. “Now, come on! We got a lead to hunt down.” She jogged to catch up with Omega.

You were yet to be convinced by that philosophy. But you’d allow her this opportunity. After all, it had been quite a few years since you’d been there. The odds had to be low… right?

Nal Hutta

“You know this place is not going to be glamorous.” You warned Omega as the ship touched down.

“How long did you live here for?” Omega asked. She’d seen the anxious look on your face the whole time the ship had been en-route and she knew that if she asked about it, you wouldn’t lie to her.

“A few months. It wasn’t my scene.” You replied briefly as you pushed up your hood and mask up as high as they could go just as the door opened.

It had not changed. The green and yellow tinge to the environment around you was just as off putting as it had been when you first smuggled yourself here.

It was hot.

It was humid.

You already felt a layer of filth settling on your exposed skin.

And the swamp rain had already started and the stench from said swamps made your nose wrinkle under your mask. You had forgotten how bad it was. You chuckled as you glanced down at Omega to see her hand over her nose. “Told ya. Just let it hit you for a few minutes and then it’ll be fine.”

Omega reluctantly lowered her hand.

“Where’s this lead, Phee?” You asked, adjusting your weapons.

“We won’t need those.” Phee said confidently. “My source is in the local watering hole.” She pointed over to the only bar in the area.

Of course, they are. You thought irritably to yourself. You almost wished your travels for this source would see you go into the swamplands because at least out there, the likelihood of running into someone who might recognise you would be minimal. Going to this bar significantly increased the risks for you.

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader

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naoa-ao3 · 7 months

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The Tape

SUMMARY: Gemma brings a tape home from school that makes her ears bleed. Cheryl asks John to get rid of it. Is there any chance he won't listen to it?

The phone rings and John picks up, hand twitching only a little. Most times when he get's a phone call it's something bad but he answers anyway and this time is surprised to hear his sister's voice on the other end.

He doesn't get around to see Cheryl as much as he probably should. Most of the time he just causes her trouble anyway.

"John, what do you think you're playing at?" She asks before he can speak, she sounds angry and he winces a little, unsure of what he's supposed to have done now.

"Gonna have to be more specific than that." He mutters.

"You bloody know what I'm talking about. The damn tape. I don't know where else Gemma would have gotten it from."

He get's annoyed now because he doesn't know anything about a tape. "What tape?" He asks. "She watch a porno flick or something?"

Cheryl makes a noise of irritation too. "You wish it were something that ordinary. It bloody hurt her."

And he just doesn't know what she's talking about. "Cheryl come off it, I'm all the way in London. I don't know what tape you're talking about. Now is Gemma okay?"

A huff. "Yeah, she's alright. Turned it off and she was fine again but she had all this blood coming out of her ears and then Tony listened to it and he started bleeding too."

"Jesus. . . Glen Campbell's greatest hits then?"

"It's not funny, she said she got it at school but I-"

"She didn't get it from me but I'll take it off your hands." John say's immediately, not knowing what this thing is but understanding and wanting it away from his niece and sister. "I can be by in a day or so."

A sigh. "You promise, John? I don't want this shit mucking up her life. You hear me? I don't want that."

"No, you're right. I won't let it."

He can hear her trouble and disbelief even when she doesn't say anything. "Okay, stay for dinner then? I'll make something up."

He nods. "Won't say no to that. I'll be there, Cheryl."

"Yeah, okay." She say's again. "Sorry I yelled. There was just blood and all coming down her face. No mother wants to see that."

"No of course not." And he knows his sister loves Gemma. Of course she does. She's a good mum. She was a good sister to him when it came down to it.

"So you'll come get rid of the thing?" She asks.

He nods. "Yeah, already there."

He hangs up and rubs at his face, feeling dark. He's tried so hard to keep this shit away from Gemma but it keeps finding her. Just like it found him only she's just a kid and she's young and innocent and it hurts that he can't keep it away from Gemma.

It hurts that Cheryl thinks he could have given Gemma the tape but then. . . Cheryl's dealt with his shit for years. . . who else would come to mind?

He get's the first ride out of London he can get and heads her way, thinking about all the songs that have ever made his ears bleed through the years. It's almost comical except that it isn't really like that. Not literal blood like what was running down the sides of his niece's face.

Of a little girl's face.

It's supposed to be just a figure of speech.

The ride takes forever and there's rain. Too much rain and the inside of the lorry he's managed to talk his way into is wet and cold.

The driver has a thermos of steaming coffee but he doesn't offer to share any and John can smell the burnt crap's stench floating next to the dank humidity of the cab.

The driver is snide. Probably picks people up so he can feel better about himself. He asks rude questions, smirks a lot but John just ignores it.

The ride is mostly silent.

Wet and silent as water droplets form against the inside of the window panes and jump out at him. The old leather stinks and feels gritty under him.

He get's off in Warrington and from there it's an easy trek to Cheryl's.

The familiar streets of his teenage haunts have changed. Progress and modernization have replaced most of shabby exteriors and old Victorian facades. It's surreal but then he doesn't come home much.

Cheryl greets him at her door, eyes troubled, face worried and he knows she's more upset than she wants to let on.

He hugs her anyway. "How's Gemma?" He asks.

"She's alright. You know how kid's are."

He nods and follows her inside.

There's school pictures on the walls of Gemma and a vase of dried flowers on the television. Cheryl's house looks normal. The weird stuff only brushes her life and he suddenly hates that this tape has invaded her home.

She puts on the kettle and sighs unhappily. "Thanks for coming on such short notice." She say's giving him an apologetic look.

There are lines around her eyes now that hadn't been there when they were kids. John feels like a kid around her again. He think's it's funny how you shrink up around family.

He isn't a kid though. "Of course." He say's.

This is the now.

She shakes here head. "I was out of my mind when I called you. I really was. I was so upset. There's no excuse for how I talked to you."

He reaches for her sleeve. "You think I don't know that?" He asks, trying to be comforting.

She smiles weakly. "No, I know you know." She say's and he sees her shoulders finally relax a little. "Gemma's going to be happy to see you." She say's.

He smiled and nods. "She at school, then?"

"Yeah. She's got good grades, you know? I'm proud of her."

"You should be."

She brushes her hair back and yet he can see the tension still there because everything isn't perfect with Tony and now she's got this to worry about. "Sometimes though, John. . ." She shakes her head and then smiles. "I'm glad you came."

He is too and he smiles gently back at her. "Any time you call, I'll turn up."

She laughs genuinely there. "Now don't go pulling my leg." She say's.

That hurts a little but he knows it's fair. He isn't totally reliable and she knows it but just the same. . . he means it to be true.

He sighs to himself and the kitchen is alright. Tony doesn't keep them living in splendor but it's alright.

"Everything alright on your end, John?" She asks.

He nods because it mostly is and what isn't there isn't time to say. "Think so." He say's.

"Good, you always seem to have a lot going on. I worry about you sometimes."

He appreciates that and looks down at the table, the yellow Formica is starting to show some wear now. "Nah, I'm alright Cheryl." He say's because it's easier than telling her all of the things she might not even believe in. "You don't need to worry. You got enough on your plate as a mum."

She smiles a little sadly. "Oh John you know it's not that easy to stop worrying."

He appreciates that too and sips his tea. "So what about this tape, then?" He asks. "What's on it?"

"How should I know? I didn't bloody listen to it."

He laughs a little. "Gemma say?"

"She was in shock, I think. If she even knew it in the first place." She fishes into her pocket and hands over a white cassette tape, shaking her head. "I don't even know how mums are supposed to know what their kids are up to these days." She say's. "I can't check everything she brings home from school. Remember when you had to save everything you got for a new record? It was vinyl then. This thing fits in your back pocket. I didn't even know she'd brought it in the house."

He takes the tape and turns it over curiously. "I remember." He say's, thinking back some years now.

She shakes her head. "We didn't have it perfect but. . . at least our music didn't make your ears bleed."

He laughs and wonders what's on the tape.

He think's he'd really like to know.

A symphony from hell? Some kind of muttered, arcane chanting? The possibilities were endless.

"Gemma should be back soon." Cheryl say's, looking towards the window and sighing. "I told her you were coming." She looks like she expects him to dart out the door.

He smiles, trying to put her eat ease. "Wouldn't want to disappoint, then."

Her eyes find him. "You're staying for dinner, aren't you? You said you would."

He raises his hands in surrender. "I meant it."

"Good because I've got a roast in the oven."

He looks towards the oven and nods. That sounds good. "Wouldn't miss it." He say's, feeling comfortable in her house when it's just the two of them.

He's not that far from where they grew up although Cheryl and Tony have managed to get themselves into a better neighborhood.

Cheryl sighs and looks at the clock on the opposite wall. "Tony should be off soon too. Do you have somewhere to spend the night?"

He glances towards the living room and raises an eyebrow. "If you wouldn't mind."

She shakes her head, smiling a little. "No, go ahead. Couch is yours."

He likes that and smiles too.

These are the easy moments, the moments when everything is working the way it should and if he ignores the reason for his trip, he's just a brother visiting his sister and her family.

He slips the tape into his pocket as the kitchen door opens and Gemma steps in, school bag thrown over her shoulder and shirt untucked.

He can remember shucking off school clothes the moment he was able to, the useless, oppressive uniforms were nothing once the last bell had rung. Once the doors had opened.

She stops and looks at him, eyes bright. "Uncle John!" She say's with delight. "Mum said you'd be coming!"

He lets her hug him and then she set's her bag down and starts working on a snack. "It's cause of that tape, isn't it?" She say's in a voice that's probably supposed to be sly. It tells him she's been thinking about it.

He nods. "Partly but also the chance to see you two."

She smiles and takes her snack off to her room, leaving the adults to talk and he raises his eyebrows at Cheryl. "She get's bigger every time I see her."

"You should come by more, then it won't be such a surprise."

He nods but knows he won't. Tony doesn't like him that much and he brings trouble. It's better if he keeps some distance, especially with all the weird stuff that tracks home after Gemma these days.

They talk for a little bit more and then Tony comes in, also through the kitchen door and the talk stays pleasant, Gemma pokes her nose back into the room too and eventually the kitchen smells like Cheryl's roast and John feels for a brief, fleeting moment like nothing's out of the ordinary.

He eats and talks with his family and manages to get along with Tony and by the end of it he's got his shoes off and is sitting on the couch.

Gemma seems unbothered by the tape but he supposes that it wasn't the weirdest thing she's ever encountered.

She talks about friends and school and asks pointed questions. She wants to know things he knows and he worries for what that means in the future.

When the lights go out he lays back and stares at the ceiling.

He wants to know what's on the tape. He absolutely wants to know what's on the tape.

He looks over at the stereo center against the wall and thinks about turning the down volume real low.

He glances down the hall however and thinks the better of it. It'd be his luck someone would get out of bed.

He pulls the blankets up to his chin and broods about it.

He really wants to know what's on the tape.

They'd said it was music.

He looks at the stereo center again and turns over on the couch. He can wait until he get's back to London.

He eats breakfast with them the next morning.

Gemma is dressed for school and Cheryl is in a bath robe and slippers.

Tony is already dressed for work.

"You're heading out today, are you?" He asks John, who nods.

"Well. . . nice seeing you."

It's awkward but John only nods again. "Same." He say's, getting an approving glance from Cheryl.

Gemma say's she wishes he could stay another night and he assures her he'll be back soon although he doesn't know when that will be.

Then Tony and Gemma are gone and it's just him and Cheryl.

"You be safe heading back today." She say's. "You still hitch hiking?"

He shrugs, guilty.

She shakes her head. "This is why I worry about you."

He laughs. "I'm alright. Never have any trouble."

That's not entirely true but he doesn't want her to worry at all so why tell her the truth?

She shakes her head again and sits with him. "It was nice having you in again." She say's, mug steaming in front of her. "Even if it was only for a night."

He shrugs. "I'll be around again."

She nods and sips her drink. "You're not going to listen to it, are you?" She asks suddenly, eyes on his coat. It's hanging over the back of his chair and he laughs.

"Of course not." He say's, heart speeding up at the thought of what might be on it.

She nods again and sighs. "I wish I believed that." She sounds like she really does wish it.

He grins. "Maybe it'll fall out of my pocket."

"Yeah, right into a tape deck."

He laughs again and it's good, sitting there with her.

He leaves around noon and hitches a ride all the way to Coventry and from there back to London, the tape burning a hole in his pocket.

He's run through all the things that could possibly be on the tape and come to the conclusion that it could be anything.

He get's inside and heads straight for the stereo in the corner.

His hands are sweating as he pulls the damn thing from his pocket.

He needs to know.

He shakes as he tries to fit the tape into the little slot, fucking it up a few times before getting it in and closing it.

He presses the button down and waits, hearing a faint crackle as the tape turns. It's almost unbearable and then a sickly sweet tune starts to emit itself from the speakers.

And they called it puppy love

He winces as a sharp pain starts to build in his ear drums.

It get's worse with each swell in the music and every line makes it so much more unbearable.

He clamps is hands over his ears and feels wetness there. He looks at his left hand and sees red.

He hits the stop button and the pain turns into a dull ringing.

He shakes his head, dizzy and nauseous now.

"Christ." He mutters, taking the tape out and looking at it.

Donny Osmond.

He shivers a little as the music stays in his head. He feels violated in a way and his hand itches towards the tape player again. . . just wanting to be certain but he stops.

His ears have stopped bleeding and he's afraid the song is going to be stuck in his head now.

He tears the tape out of the cassette and breaks the plastic.

Some people just like putting evil into the world and he thinks that whoever made this must have a particularly cruel sense of humor.

He throws the tape in the trash and tries to remember which day pick up is.

#john constantine #hellbalzer #fanfiction #fanfic #cheryl masters #gemma masters #tony masters #hellblazer fanfic #ao3 #family #music #siblings #horror #humor #blood #one shot #cassette tapes #curses

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linkedkeysau-official · 1 year

Text

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Days 8/9 - Panic & Voice Loss

Wild never thought he would return to his old self, and that was a good thing. The stoic, silent, serious knight he used to be was not who he really was, and even if it took losing his memory to figure that out, he was much happier now that he felt free to live up to his nickname. At least that’s what he thought.

But then Warriors had gotten hurt. It wasn’t the injury itself that caused Wild to break down, nor was it witnessing the attack; but rather the aftermath of it. Once Wild, Future, and Time had returned to the village and they saw the true severity of the situation, it was hard to believe the Captain had survived at all. He’d make it, Hyrule had said. The healer was doing everything he could, and slowly but steadily was making progress. Though some weren’t quite so optimistic.

The kids— or Mask and Wind at least— must have overheard one of these less hopeful conversations, because Wild found them in the hallway just around the corner from Warriors’ room. Mask was sobbing, and Wind was trying to comfort him.

“Wind… Do you think Wars is going to die?”

“What? No! He’s way too tough for some overgrown Lizalfos to take him down!”

"It's just… I overheard the others talking. They're saying he might not make it. I don't know what I would do if—"

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

“Link…? Is dad going to be okay?”

A much younger Wild sat beside his little sister outside the castle infirmary. Their father had returned from a mission gravely wounded, and it was unclear whether he would survive. His sister— Wild mentally kicked himself because he still couldn’t remember her name— could not stop crying at the thought of possibly losing their dad. Their mom had died giving birth to her, so losing dad meant they’d be all alone.

“Of course he will! He’s way too strong to let something like this stop him!” Link tried to assure her.

…He was not okay. Minutes, hours passed before the news came out that their father did not make it. Wild’s sister was inconsolable. Wild stood there in stunned silence. He’d wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, to become a knight as well. But he didn’t expect it to happen like this; because now with their father gone, he was the only one left to protect his sister and their home.

He swore he’d be strong for her, and for everyone else in his life. He couldn’t let grief get the best of him if he was going to protect them all…

So he vowed to remain completely silent from then on, in order to appear strong and carry any burden he was asked to, without question. Without complaint. Without failure.

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

Wild snapped out of the memory so suddenly that he stumbled backwards and slammed into the wall. It took him a moment to remember where he was and what was happening. The inn… Warriors… The kids… That had been what triggered it! Seeing the parallels between what he witnessed with Wind and Mask, and what had occurred with him and his sister as a child.

Wind was going through the same thing Wild had. Not thinking clearly, Wild immediately jumped to the conclusion that the memory was an indication that Warriors was not going to make it. Wind was going to end up just like Wild. Wild couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let the poor kid lose the optimism and innocence and spunk that he had so much of, that kept the group going even when everything seemed hopeless. He decided in that moment that Wind didn’t have to worry about it; Wild would carry that burden in his stead. He would be the strong one again. He would be the one to look after and protect Wind. He had to be… He couldn’t let anyone else go through what he had.

“Cub?” Twilight asked, appearing behind the Champion, “You okay? I saw you fall… You’re not hurt, are you?”

Wild tried to respond, but his voice wouldn’t work. But it didn’t have to; silence would be better anyway, right? Wild shook his head in response to Twilight’s question.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Twilight urged. Wild, again, shook his head.

I'm fine, he signed, standing up without another word, or gesture for that matter. He noticed the two kids had fallen asleep in the hallway, and decided to carry them to the other room so they could sleep in a proper bed. Twilight helped, clearly concerned for Wild, but Wild said nothing.

He felt he could not speak again unless Warriors turned out to be alright in the end.

#Linked Keys #lk #lk wild #loz au #not lu #febuwhump2023 #mod kj

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aria0fgold · 6 months

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2nd post bout my thoughts on End Roll, spoiler heavy, go! Aheeemm... I think this is the first ever game I've played that has no actual happy ending. Granted I haven't played that many games but still... It was an experience...

I'm putting all the blame on Russell's family, especially his parents, MOSTLY his parents. Scum of the earth bro I hate them so much. Bro like, can people not actually well equipped to have a child not have one at all like please you people are the worst kinds of humans I swear to god bro. WHY EVEN BIRTH A KID YOU AREN'T GONNA CARE FOR??? Mumble grumble, ohhh Why do I even have a kid like you says the shittiest mom in the world WELL WHY DID YOU EVEN GO THROUGH THE LABOUR THEN YA WHORE??? ABORTION YA BITCH IF YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT A KID? Russell's parents are the fucking worst bro like I swear I can't even-- Like I'm so glad they're dead, but I just wish it wasn't Russell that had to do it cuz look at the poor boy, he's... he's got so many problems and is also dead as well, goddammit.

A thing bout this game's story is that it actually puts a knife on your chest that it pushes further and further in the more you progress and twists it in certain sections. Like there was a part in the game, where I think is just a sidequest you can skip but it adds so much more on the story and Russell's character. It makes him so human in a way where it reminds you that Russell isn't just some kid that killed so many people, it reminds you that Russell IS just a kid overcome by loneliness and jealousy. Even if it's just a little section, a small memory of him meeting another kid in an aquarium, of him helping that kid and accompanying her around, even if it was that small singular memory, it shows so much anyway.

The way he remembered that memory, how he still remembered what the girl said, but because of everything that has happened to him, that memory got corrupted in a way where the girl was turned into a monster he had to defeat in his Happy Dream. The stuff that girl says towards Russell during the fight. It really just hammers in the fact that had it not been for everything he went through, Russell would've really just been any other kid playing around, talking with his peers, making happy memories like that. It's just... maaaaaan...

This game hurts in so many ways bro and I can't even blame anyone (i lied i can blame someone and that someone is russell's parents i will never stop blaming his parents). Like... Gardenia was just a really kind girl... Inviting everyone in the class to her birthday party, my heart breaks each time her warped form appears, the way she cries bout her happiness being taken away and how she keeps saying for Russell to give it back... I can blame Russell there for the fact that he pushed an innocent girl off the stairs to her death but I also can't fully blame him cuz it's all his parents fault really. You're gonna be seeing me blaming his parents for everything at this point.

Dogma and Cody are my faves, I always put em together in the same team and their death sequence broke my heart too... The way Cody was calling for her brother and how Dogma tried to get to Cody too despite the burning church and how they're burning as well like maaaan... MAAAANNN... also the boss fight brooo..... their mom...... their mom who is just so furious at Russell and how she wants her children to be laid to rest despite how it hurts her to know they're dead and that one bit of dialogue of her saying that it should've been her and like maaaaaannnnn.... Russell you had a bit of opportunity there to... I don't know, ask their mom to care for you??? Why did you have to burn the church with her kids my guy... But again, I can't blame hiiiimmmm, head in hands bro....

#aria rants #this game made me go through it honestly #also why couldnt the nurse and doctor kill themselves elsewhere why. make. a. kid. do. it.#and yumi broooooo.... yumiiiiii i loved yumi so much and MAAAAAAAAAAAANNN #FUCK RUSSELL'S DAD BRO I FUCKING HATE HIM SO MUCH #YUUUMMIII!!!!!!!!!!

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cocogum · 7 months

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Koroks are the bane of my existence.

(pointless ranting ahead)

You know that weird feeling that you get when you’re in the bathroom and you’re almost done doing the business but your booty hole is internally hurting cuz you keep forcing yourself but nothing is coming out despite the fact that you know it’s there and it won’t get out?

That’s what a korok feels like.

Every time I see these little feces roaming around the woods with their weak ass twig legs hanging out from their disgusting and musty body, it makes me wanna commit arson on their whole families.

I swear, when I say I LOATH these little shits, I really mean it.

Koroks were a mistake to be brought into life.

If I see even one of them doing something simple like breathing and standing, IT’S ON SIGHT.

I don’t know how some of y’all think they can be cute.

Like there really be fangirls looking at them and screeching about how their bodies look like marshmallows, how they move around with their little leaves, or how their voices sound adorable and innocent to listen to.

i’m sorry what?

what did you say?

Their voices????

How are you so delusional to the point where you would believe that their high-pitched ear-bleeding voices can be soothing to hear??

These rodents are nothing close to ‘innocent’.

You could be climbing a cliff with the utmost serious concentration you’ve ever pulled off and when you think you’ve almost climbed the whole way up, one of these freaks would suddenly pop up out of nowhere and jump at you, ruining all of your progress by making you fall into the dark pits of what we call DEATH.

They will not stop ruining your improvements and will look for any way to make your day a shitty one by making you subconsciously play their stupid game with them.

You have to let the game make you hear 900 times their stupid ass “YAhAHa YoU fOunD mE!” dialogue AND let them do their pathetic small (thank god) dance till they disappear.

You can also stop searching for them once you hit the number 441 cuz that’s when it maxes out your inventory but still, who the hell decided to stop at 441?

That’s not even a good number.

You couldn’t have just stopped at 444?

That number sounds much better than 441.

But anyways.

900.

Would you go that far?

They even specifically stated that you guys don’t have to catch all 900.

Like what kind of idiot would go around the WHOLE map to find exactly 900 koroks???

Not only is that shit so time-consuming AND there is no useful reward for getting them all, but you also have to carry these.

You have to carry these.

Your nasty ass has to carry feces.

And you know they’re feces.

Because once you give them all to the Deku Tree, he literally shoves them all together to make a golden shit.

The shits turned into one huge golden shit.

Are you proud of yourself.

Are you proud of accomplishing this quest.

How can you sleep at night not thinking about the things you had to do to acquire them.

How can you go up to your friends and show them what you accomplished.

Matter of fact, can you even consider this an ‘accomplishment’?

How dare you.

Remember when Koroks used to be kids?

Well they’re not kids cuz they’re technically adults but you know what I meant.

Yeah…

I sure miss that time.

I mean yeah they were called kokiris and this was pretty much an old evolution but still.

I miss when they used to look like that.

They were so iconic.

They weren’t a pain to catch, their voices didn’t sound too high pitched, they actually had personalities (can you believe that?) and one of them became one of the seven sages.

Now they just look like this.

Doesn’t feel the same when you compare them, now does it?

Looks disappointing right?

Comparing them next to each other almost makes you question how the hell did they end up this way.

But judging by their….uh…. ‘adorable transformation’ like some would say, (*gags*) I don’t wanna know how they turned out like this.

I just feel like the process would be…painful?

Cuz like…. how the hell does human skin turn into….uh. Well THAT.

That’s not-

That’s not possible.

Not even evolution can do that on its own unless they had some kind of shitty gene already placed in their cells to begin with.

I literally have no idea what I’m saying anymore.

I’m trying to come up with a logical explanation for this but I can see that I’m just pulling shit out of my own ass at this point.

I think there was a youtube video explaining that topic exactly but I don’t remember if I actually saw it or if it’s just my mind screwing with me.

Oh well.

Looks like we’ll never know.

I’m too lazy to search for it but if you know a video like that send it to me (put it on my wall or something).

So in short, koroks are something that exists now and if they ever touch me I’m calling the Guardians on their asses.

(also i used to think koroks were edible)

#loz #legend of zelda #loz koroks #loz botw #legend of zelda breath of the wild #loz rants #loz rantings #loz rant #loz ranting #legend of zelda ranting #legend of zelda rantings #legend of zelda rants #legend of zelda rant #the legend of zelda

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atopearth · 11 months

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White Album 2 Part 6 - Setsuna Ogiso Route (Closing Chapter)

Finally to Setsuna! We can finally not cheat on her..right?! I guess when you go on the Setsuna route, the side heroines all get rejected or give up in their own way. I liked how Koharu got rejected by way of Mihoko, but anyway Mihoko pisses me off every time I see her so I hope this is the last time we see her. Honestly, when it comes to Takeya and Io, I really don't like Io. She always just goes with whatever she judges to be "right" and is always too stubborn to think that any other option or thoughts are okay. It pisses me off alot of the time tbh lol. Especially in this route when she blames Setsuna for hitting Haruki's hand away and not being able to accept that Haruki will never forget Kazusa. Yeah, Setsuna knows that Haruki will never forget Kazusa, but knowing and seeing it and feeling it is a completely different story, and why is it Setsuna's fault when Haruki was so blatantly lying on Christmas Eve that she finally exploded? And Io has been beside Setsuna all these years, shouldn't she understand better than anyone how much this would crush her? How much Setsuna hoped that Haruki would forget about Kazusa and only love her?

I think that conversation with Haruki was the most meaningful one they've had in years, I'm glad he finally genuinely told Setsuna his true feelings properly. I can't believe Setsuna ignored him for two weeks though, that's pretty slack. But I guess I can understand why she's avoiding him, especially after she said she was comfortable with always chasing after him when he was always running away, but now that he's facing her and approaching her, she doesn't know what to do. She just really wanted to keep some sort of connection between them but she can't actually face having that proper connection again because she's scared of getting hurt again, which is very understandable. On the other hand, Setsuna is getting frustrating because she refuses to move forward but won't go back either, she calls Io mean but I think Io is right this time and Setsuna really needs to get a grip together even though as Io says, it's Haruki's fault that she became like this. I wonder if WA2 wins other visual novels in terms of how annoying their side characters are because Yanagihara is so annoying and bothersome and really needs to take her inferiority complex somewhere else. Honestly, Setsuna should have just dumped Yanagihara there, she can take responsibility for her own actions. What if they got kidnapped by those random men, it's dangerous and dumb. Yanagihara is so obnoxious, I wish I could punch her. Wow, she's such a bitch, there's so many ways to prove a point and she has to do it in one of the worst ways. Leaving Setsuna in a car with strange men that are obviously lusting after her and making her think she has no escape is so disgusting. What if they drove off? What if their car plate was fake? So many possibilities but because she's so up herself, she never bothered to consider it and just wanted to make Setsuna cry in the worst way ever. Anyway, I still don't like Tomo (Yanagihara) but I guess it's cute to see Setsuna so honestly complain about someone for once and even argue with her publicly without thinking about her image lol.

Lmao, I have to admit I had the exact same thoughts as Takeya. Haruki and Setsuna’s phone calls with Haruki playing her the guitar etc is such a high school thing haha! They're such kids, but that innocence is nice since they missed out on it because of everything that happened. Honestly, for this route, I have to say, I don't know whether I'm liking both Haruki and Setsuna at all lol. They've progressed and it's good that they're talking but at the same time, they're not really communicating since all they're doing is dancing around each other in a different way. But yeah anyway, I'm happier with the Haruki here. Especially since he honestly conveyed his feelings to Setsuna and is willing to wait for her. Honestly, even if he doesn't end up waiting "forever" for her to get over things, I would still be happy because the most important thing is that he is genuine now and I believe that he would wait. He's done all he's can trying his best to not hurt Setsuna any further and that's enough for me. Anyway, Setsuna really frustrates me so I constantly need to take breaks from this game because I can't take it. Yanagihara is annoying but at least she's trying to talk some sense into her along with Io, it just sucks that Setsuna still refuses to do anything knowing that this can't last forever especially when they're just slowly tormenting each other in a different way now.

It broke my heart when Setsuna talked to Haruki about why she doesn't want to sing anymore, because it just makes her remember everything from 3 years ago again - from the happy memories to the betrayal to Haruki and Kazusa tearfully saying goodbye. Things she doesn't want to face and has always been running away from. I was so glad when Haruki told Setsuna that the person he loves the most is the Setsuna who loves to sing and does whatever she wants. And I'm glad he didn't do anything with her and just played the guitar as she went through all her emotions and eventually decided for herself whether she wanted to sing at the concert or not. Honestly, even though this route was frustrating, the moment I heard Setsuna singing on stage again , I couldn't help but cry as well. Not as much as Yanagihara though haha. As expected, the H-scenes were very very long lol! Satisfying end for the couple though considering how much they had to get through to get to this point so I'll forgive it haha. It's nice to see them get to truly enjoy being in each other's embrace and company now. And what better end than for Haruki to finally give Setsuna the birthday present he was supposed to give her three years ago! And for everyone to celebrate her birthday properly with snow falling down. Now she can finally think of happy things when it comes to her birthday party. That's the best thing. In terms of all the routes, it's expected that this was definitely the best because it really felt like Haruki and Setsuna finally moved on. It was satisfying to see. At least until I realised that this just leads up to Coda, the last chapter of this game. At least we get a Setsuna True End? Haha, hopefully Coda will be even better, but I guess it has to be because Kazusa is back!!

Overall, Setsuna's route is definitely a frustrating one. So frustrating that I had to take breaks for days because I got so annoyed with Yanagihara, and then more breaks because I was annoyed with Setsuna haha. Even though it was frustrating, I'll admit that the ending was worth it all because seeing Setsuna singing again just makes everything worth it. It was honestly so difficult to watch how terrible her life basically was in every other heroine's route, so seeing Haruki try his best to face her in this route and do his best to soothe her, reassure her and then get her to trust him again was very sweet. It really was a long journey with the two of them at a standstill, so seeing them finally get past that was very satisfying. But I guess one thing that was never addressed was Kazusa so I guess Coda will deal with that and give us the true happy ending with Setsuna haha.

#White Album 2

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brettsshrimp · 2 years

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so I've been having many thoughts about like a sweet yet kinda oblivious reader with the group. These are just general ideas but if anyone wants me to elaborate on any let me know:o

cw // drug mentions

• bringing everyone their favorite coffee in the morning and always having little snacks

• when Brett starts working there, you ask what his fav coffee is, and he doesn't think much of it, thinking it's just an ice breaker or smth, but the next day you come in with his fav drink along with the others and he's just,, stunned. like,,, he didn't think anyone would do that since he's knew,, he's just like?????hmsnxj,,

• also having bandaids and wipes along with the snacks in a little backpack or purse

• Brett comes to you a lot with a papercut or some other minor injury and a pout on his face asking for a bandaid. he loves the care that you give, wiping the cut then carefully putting the bandaid on,,, he's soft,, especially after the smile you give him, telling him to be careful,,

• helping Glenn with his divorce therapy if he really wanted to work on his personality after the body switching thing. like helping with listening/ trying not to yell ect.

• when a session goes really well you take him out to dinner, or something he's been talking about wanting lately. even if a session doesn't go as well you remind him that's okay!! progress isn't linear and you're still proud of him!!!

• being shopping buddies with Gigi, and getting your nails done together. Also trying to help with like making media trends, whether it's like memes or fashion, she likes hearing any ideas you have

• Myc and Andre have tried to make dirty jokes and innuendos but they always fly over your head. it used to drive Andre crazy but Myc was always amused seeing your confused face, trying to understand the joke. At first Andre thought you were just messing with him but Myc confirmed that you really just didn't get it

• I like to imagine that one day while you were still relatively new to the job, Andre came up to you and was like what the hell are you on?? since you've always seemed so happy, patient and just? over all bubbly. and you're just like "??? on what??" Andre just kinda laughs until he realizes your serious

• he kinda wonders if you even know more than 5 drugs. I also like to think that at some point he takes the time to teach you how to tell when someone spiked your drink, even if you don't go out much. he just wants to make sure your safe and having a good time<3

• he's also like hey, if you ever decide you wanna try drugs, hit me up! he'll make sure you have a good and safe time,,

• going off the dirty joke point, one time you were trying to learn more about Myc's species and Myc found out, and he was like hey, if you come over to my place tonight, I can show you a thing or two. rather than being flustered or smth along those lines like he was expecting, you just kinda got excited in an innocent way, wondering what he could show you

• he even put a tentacle on your shoulder and there just,, wasn't a single dirty thought in there. it was just you wondering what he could show you, and what snacks he might like hnfhfj

• hanging out with Reagan, listening to her talk about a new invention or something her dad did. or if she's not in the mood to talk/ focusing on her work you're happy to talk about random things

• also bringing her drinks and food, making sure she isn't overworking herself too much

• Reagan tries really hard to keep you away from her dad, even if it's impossible. she doesn't want him hurting you in any way or trying to manipulate you into doing something for him,, she wants to keep you safe from him,,

• doing their nails and hair on (somehow) less busy days. even though Myc doesn't have either, you still decorate him with little accessories so he isn't left out,,

• I like to think Myc and Glenn call you kiddo. Myc uses it more to just tease you while Glenn does it more out of seeing you as a kid he never had(though he won't admit it just yet)

• you and Brett totally get together and plan little surprise parties. like nothing extreme just a little thing for everyone to calm down. like there's everyone's fav food and drinks. even if it isn't a birthday party or Christmas, you get little gifts for everyone, even Brett who didn't see it coming:(<3 (he might tear up a little hnmsdjd,, I love him)

• Myc probably read your mind once while you and Brett were planning a surprise party and totally spoiled it for everyone. he got the cold shoulder from you for a day or two after,, was it a little overdramatic? yeah

• also!! being excited to go to the 80's town too! even if you weren't born in the 80's, or really understand the hype of it like Reagan, seeing Brett be excited about it has you getting a little excited too. you totally dressed up with Brett which made him so happy

• lord have mercy on anyone that makes you upset. if any of them finds out someone hurt you in any way, that info spreads like a wildfire to the rest of the team, and you have to stop them and reassure them you'll be okay before they completely ruin the person's life jsnshk

• they just really appreciate you being there for them and wanna be there for you too:(<3

#inside job x reader #brett hand x reader #reagan ridley x reader #andre lee x reader #gigi thompson x reader #magic myc x reader #glenn dolphman x reader #sorry these may be all over the place #but ive had them bouncing around in my head for a while hmsmgrj #I'll probably elaborate on some of these later on!!!

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Could you please do a fanfic for a male version of Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu (from Resident Evil Village game) with the reader.

I really like the Resident Evil franchise but I'm too lazy to know what the hell is happening in the older games XD I'm so sorry about that-

I loved watching playthroughs of Resident Evil Village (can't buy the game ;-;), but I felt like it was a bit empty, idk- I felt like the lords weren't really explored enough.

Also the Duke is the best husbando in the whole game- Fight me! >:3

TW/Tags: GN = Gender Neutral, I normally forget to properly name it when it's gender neutral, most of the time I just say "reader" // maybe ooc // lazy genderbent, I'm terrible with names // size difference // servant reader // mentions of gore/cuts/bruises/blood and deaths (and torture- I'm so sorry-) // reader gets hurt // mentions of vomiting

It's Dinner Already [Yandere!M!Dimitrescu x GN!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

It's dinner time already, unfortunately for you, of course.

It feels almost like a routine at this point- Which in a way, it is! You always take care of your tasks during the day, while dreading the inevitable time for dinner to arrive again.

Everyday, at this exact same hour, you and the other servants would prepare a meal for Lord Dimitrescu and his lovely… Sons…

As someone who has started "working" for their family only a month ago, you can positively say: Starving in the cold woods next to your village would have probably been a more merciful death than the ones you have witnessed at this place. You weren't as accustomed to such brutal executions at your village, actually you hardly even witnessed so much death, at least not so up close.

When you came here, you didn't expect to be instantly comforted and treated with respect- You were a commoner looking for an possibility to thrive in a noble's house, you were basically an easy target for any entitled selfish lord to easily belittle you and make you work for them until your hands would turn to dust. Yet nothing could have prepared you for such an odd situation.

Vampires. Monsters. Fiends if you were bold enough to insult them. You weren't exactly welcomed as much as you were snatched in and now forever trapped inside this castle. You can still hear their laughter… Their insane expressions of pure glee, the way they have bursted into maliciously laughing at your pain as you screamed for help trying to open up their door again and be free from that nightmare.

The chase didn't last even a second, they stabbed your legs with their scythes and brought you deeper inside this hellhole, as you cried your eyeballs out. The sons had brought you back inside so their father could take a look at the "intruder".

An absolute titan amongst the mortals. His height was only a sick reminder of how much power he had over the castle, over his sons, and now- Over you.

He may not have been as massive as he was threatening as you remind him to be, but at the time you were just in awe of his height considering you have never seen someone as tall and as mighty.

Then again- You have never seen vampires as well. Were they the same vampires as the books you've read as a kid? You weren't so sure of it…

You were hoping that if you begged for life and for forgiveness for having disturbed their peace, that they could spare you and let you go back to your village. Sadly enough, you commented on how you were only trying to look for a job as a servant.

You probably shouldn't have given them ideas, but it's too late to think about your mistakes now, however.

The sons begged to see your blood spilled, yet Lord Dimitrescu was merciful enough to grant you your "wish", as he said.

It has been a month ever since you were trapped inside and forced to work as a miserable little servant, and even if you didn't suffer the worst forms of punishments that they had in-store for you, you couldn't help but fantasize about just running away and never turning back.

You're so tired of this castle, of the smell of carnage, of the undeserved and over the top punishments, and especially of the people who would subjugate you to such things.

But at last, it's dinner time already, and you can't keep them waiting.

You feel your hands shaking as you walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the masters of the castle were so graciously waiting for you. You know what they're waiting for- But you can't let them distract you, for those that commit accidents are faced with fates worse than death.

Although you would rather do this process quickly, you can't afford mistakes to happen, so you take your time to set not only their meal in front of each one but to also pour "wine" into their glasses. You do all of this without looking directly into their eyes, only bowing down to each one and saying "excuse me"s in what they would call a "decent tone", as the smell of their disgusting beverage starts to irritate your nostrils. If you didn't know the main ingredient to Sanguis Virgins is, you probably wouldn't have this immense disgust over it, but right now just the thought of it makes you want to gag.

Only villains could so easily drink blood, and still make a living out of it.

Your internal thoughts of pure hatred against this whole situation almost completely blinded you to the fact that they were eerily, very quiet.

….

On most nights they would be talking with each other while occasionally making comments about you or your presence. Obviously they were all pretty nasty comments that they somehow expected you to back it up in some way or another, it's when they try to insert you into their conversation that makes you hate this occasion so badly, but it normally ends as quickly as it begins.

But as you are pouring wine to Lord's Dimitrescu, you notice that they haven't said a single thing while you were there. You stop what you're doing as you realize that they were silently observing you this whole time, and as you look into their expressions you come to think that maybe you have messed up-

Somehow, in some way or form, you may have messed up- And the fact this mistake could cost your head only agitates your already very worried mind.

….

A small moment of silence continues before the middle son, Cassandro, starts to chuckle in an almost innocent way- As if he was a kid who just said a bad word for the first time- And as he bursts into sudden laughter, Daniel leans towards Bello and loudly whispers:

"- I told you, they do this every time." To which Bello only replied with:

"- It's almost like hypnosis in a way."

The three sons were mesmerized by your ability to trap yourself in your own mind. They're probably aware that you do this as a defensive mechanism but they still find it comical in a weird way. You feel yourself get more tense as you look up at Lord Dimitrescu and see him staring back at you, with an unreadable expression across his face.

Before you could come up with an excuse to whatever you may have caused to disturb their dinner, the Lord himself spoke.

"- How inappropriate. As my sons, you three should know better than to laugh at our servant's airheaded mind-"

And as he said that, their smiles begin to disappear and be replaced with frowns and a bit of shame as they become stiff at their father's words.

"- And how inappropriate of you, too. To be so distracted in the presence of your masters, that's quite rude don't you think?"

But as he continued their bodies begin to relax once again as they realize he wasn't focusing on them- He was focusing on you.

Words have completely disappeared from your vocabulary as you start to think that maybe you won't be able to see another day after their meal is over. You try to mumble some possible responses before getting interrupted by him once again.

"- It's very rude, so very rude in fact that I think we deserve some answers. What were you so distracted about? What were you thinking that could have possibly taken over your small little head?"

Right now, he was sounding a bit condescending, thankfully not as angry as he would have been with the other servants right about now. Every little mistake was used as excuses for punishments- And if you were walking on thin ice before, right now you are one-step closer to breaking this entire lake and getting yourself killed by the freezing temperatures of the water below you.

Thanks to your luck (or maybe lack thereof, depending on how you see this) Daniel came to "your rescue" by coming up with an excuse for you.

"- Maybe they were hungry." He said without any indications of it being a joke or a lie- As the youngest yet craziest of the bunch, he always had that weird "naive yet dangerous" energy coming from him. He was naive enough to make that statement when it's very clear that you actually despise being near them, but he still was a son of Dimitrescu.

You know better than to underestimate any of these people.

The Lord didn't seem completely convinced as he side eyed Daniel who was blissfully eating his meal without acknowledging his dad's glance or his brother's looks of disapproval.

Without a warning you were pulled closer by your wrist and forced into sitting next to the Lord, who made a sign for another servant to bring you your food. This… Doesn't feel right at all, you're waiting for the worst to come yet you don't feel like you can ever prepare yourself enough for what they have in store.

"- M-My Lord- This isn't needed, I'm fine. I'll just continue my duties, if you can excuse me-" You plead, while trying to get up from your chair.

"- Oh but what host would I be if I didn't take better care of my guests? Poor thing, you must be starving if you can barely serve us wine-" And as his tone gets progressively more sarcastic and a bit louder, you can hear his sons snickering from the other side of the table, but you can't see them since you can't take your eyes away from him.

You're worried that if you look away for just one second, that you may not be able to see ever again.

"- It's so sad when one of our guests feels hungry- What's worse is when we are also very, very hungry."

"- Thirsty, even!"

"- Oh, I can feel my throat drying just at the thought of such misery!- Our dinner seems to be ruined."

You hear their whispers, you hear how they are clearly joking about this- How overly dramatic they're being over something so miniscule as you just- Ignoring them.

Let me remind you this is all because you refuse to look them in the eyes, that you refuse to give them any satisfaction for the heinous things they have done! You've seen so many people get hurt inside this castle only for their sick and twisted thirst and entertainment.

"- Indeed, my boys. My appetite is ruined, though dinner is not over yet-" Lord Dimitrescu spoke as he looked at his sons clearly enjoying your inevitable pain, but before he could continue he turns himself to you again, putting a hand on your arm and saying:

"- Wouldn't you agree?" Loud enough so that his sons could hear it, but soft enough to send the tiniest shivers down your spine.

"- …!"

"- No, no- Please, not again!-" He wouldn't dare do this, would he??

But before you could react he had already done it, you barely noticed how fast he had grabbed that knife to slice your wrist- His hand firmly gripping your arm as he made a deep enough cut so that your blood could be easier to access.

It somehow hurts just as badly as the first time his sons have stabbed your ankles and dragged you across the floor- At least you're not bumping into things like before, and even if it's a deep cut it's not as big as it could be if he used his claws to actually do this.

Oh, oh those claws- You almost thought he would use them on you… Those were something else. You can't remember exactly what happened, and why it happened, but you remember seeing him use those on another servant who may have crossed the line at some point.

Well "crossed the line"- More like "casually inconvenienced him". Lord Alcino may act like an incredibly high noble but he acts so childishly and in such an egotistical manner that you are surprised he can even have a castle like this in the first place! You don't remember what the servant has done to be so cruelly dismantled, but you don't doubt that it was for a stupid reason!

You miss that servant actually- Probably the only person who you actually talked with, and the first one to actually taught you how to do your job… You two could have been friends if he didn't intervene.

You briefly remember those moments before getting to experience the most weird sensation of all- Having your bloody cut be licked and sucked on. It hurts and it stings in a way that not only makes you want to cry but to also gag at the thought of you feeding this monster.

You refuse to look at him even in this scenario, you refuse to see him feeding off your blood… Sometimes you wish you were just as poisonous as some species of frogs, poisonous enough to make his mouth burn so he can experience a fraction of the pain he causes to others.

You tried fleeting away, you tried getting up and moving away but his grip on your arm only helped you in getting closer to him- You have your eyes closed as your only option is to cry and muffle your agony.

But as always, he is not satisfied with you just ignoring him. This was supposed to be a lesson, yet you're clearly avoiding your teacher as best as you can- But not today, little flower, you're not getting out of this so easily.

This is the first time he ever got to really taste your blood, as normally you would be behind the other servants while trying to learn how to please him, the only moments where he gets to see you is when it's dinner time, but oh- You're just so cruel!

Escaping inside your own little head while he has to content himself with just your image. Your presence is very much appreciated around this hour, little one-

He has noticed this before, of course, but it was only when he noticed his son's curiosity over the way you behave around them that made him organize this little trap. He didn't have everything planned actually, his plan only involved getting to this moment no matter what- And oh boy, has luck been on his side!

Your blood tastes better than expected of a commoner, your delicate and fearful whines of pain are just as delightful but what really gets him is this tough persona you try to convince everyone you have- You despise him, and it's clear to see why- But he knows his charms will probably work on you one way or the other.

He gripped your face trying to make sure you'll get to him in the eyes as he has a taste of you. Absolutely delicious, especially after you so gracefully "ruined" their dinner.

His sons were just watching as they continued to drink from their crimson glasses. They were just enjoying the show, as everything seems to easily amuse them- Their father was just showcasing how they were so much better than the common folk, and they have no other option but to take notes and to remember what they have to do if they ever feel ignored by the servants in the castle: Show who are the true masters of this place.

None of them were really interested in drinking from you, considering how all three seemed to recognize how their father has taken a liking towards you. No one would dare mess with their father's prey.

If you had enough strength in you, you would start vomiting as soon as this has started, but the more he takes from you the more you feel like you can barely stay conscious.

He wasn't supposed to take so much, at least not so soon- He wanted to just take a sip but he can't deny the fact he would rather drown himself in your blood than to let go.

He sighs, as he notices that you're slowly getting less and less aggressive, getting more and more tired as he drains you from this cut.

You're not unconscious yet, just barely stable enough to understand what's going on.

"- Sigh… Now that was a decent enough meal." He can't praise you for being tasty, can't have you being cocky around him.

"- Here, since I'm done here I'll take you to the servant's living quarters- And because I'm so kind I'll make sure that wound is safely secured and cleaned, so here- Come along now."

And as he stood up he offered you his hand so you could get up yourself, but you don't have enough energy to walk yourself to your room, thankfully you're already ready to go to bed and wish to never wake up again.

And as the nightmare never ends, he decides that if you are going to be difficult then you leave him no choice but to carry you there. How much has he taken from you?? Jesus, he should learn some self-control before doing this again- The absolute brute that he is.

Your vision may be a little screwed over because of the lack of red cells running through your body at the moment- But you have a weird feeling that you two aren't heading towards the servant's living quarters, as you feel like you two are quite literally going in the opposite direction.

Oh but it's fine- Right?

It'll be fine. Surely. After all, he already took what he wanted from you, and he doesn't seem to need more so- You probably won't have to worry about anything right now, dinner time is already over, you can finally relax now….

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

So I'm sick again- Sorry y'all, I just have a horrible immune system and I really don't understand what is wrong with me-

I'm sorry if you didn't like this boo :(

#sheep's stuff #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere vampire x reader #yandere lady dimitrescu #yandere lord dimitrescu #yandere lord dimitrescu x reader #gn!reader #yandere fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere short fanfiction #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction #m!lady dimitrescu #male lady dimitrescu

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

figure it out {din djarin x reader}

summary: din djarin doesn’t usually get jealous. not until he met you, at least {for the lovely and wonderful @stargazingcarol} - 2.5k words

warnings: swearing

this is completely spoiler free!! just some good old jealousy and some antics with the kid. enjoy.

- jamie

You had a complicated relationship with the Mandalorian.

On one hand, you were colleagues…of sorts. He’d spent two years coming to your outpost on Corellia when he needed his ship fixing – and after becoming fed up of traipsing back and forth, he offered you the job full time. It was a mutually beneficial situation. You’d been desperate to get out the city for years, and you were also the only mechanic he trusted. The prospect of a job that would take you all over the galaxy was exciting, even if it meant tiptoeing around one another in the cramped hull of the Razor Crest (and that was before the addition of the Child). But, when you spent days and days in hyperspace with nobody else to talk to, it was only natural that you became friends. It had felt a little awkward at first, as though you were trying to force conversation with a man who just didn’t want to talk -- but then the Mandalorian’s barriers broke down, and things began to change.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when. It had probably been a few months in, not long after he’d saved your ass from a bounty who had thrown a punch in your direction. You hadn’t expected the Mandalorian to be so protective - and frankly, neither had he. It was after that he found himself doing things without realising; lingering touches on your back when he passed, his hands brushing your thigh whenever you were sat in the cockpit next to him. Then, you became unintentional adoptive parents to a weird, green creature - a bond between you that only seemed progressed naturally, as though you had no control over it.

One night, not long after you took the Child in, you’d both collapsed beside one another on the tiny bed in hull of the Crest. Usually, you would argue for a while about who got to take it, but on that night, neither of you’d had the energy. Under the covers of the dark and with the baby finally asleep, you were muttering amongst yourself - you couldn’t remember the conversation entirely, but it was sleepy, tired gibberish. Din found himself reaching to take the helmet off; he could hear you easier that way, and your voice was comforting enough to lull him off to sleep. In the quiet of the moment, and with the conversation between you reaching a natural stopping point, he’d gently closed the gap between you. It was simple; his lips on yours, only for a brief moment. Then, as though the Child had sensed that everything was no longer about him, he’d opened his mouth and let out a cry for attention.

You began to kiss more often after that; every night before bed, actually. As soon as the lights were off, Din would take the helmet off, give you a gentle kiss and then he’d drift off, holding you tightly to his chest. It was always that, followed by a good night, cyar'ika. Then the morning would come, and it would be good morning, cyar'ika followed by another soft kiss, before the helmet went back on and you both went about your days.

After a few months of that, you’d fallen into an easy routine. Neither of you had quite established what your relationship was, but it didn’t feel like you needed to. It’s not like there was anyone else around for you to have to worry about, or anyone else who would force you to define it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating; Din Djarin had never been the type of person to plan ahead, and you knew that more than anyone. The idea of becoming attached to him, only to lose him or get hurt was enough for you to at least want to try and work it out. You weren’t expecting a deep conversation, or even one that you could walk away from knowing whatever the hell was going on between you two.

It was just that with the addition of the Child, and the two of you growing closer each day, you wanted an answer. You wanted to know if you were wasting your time; if this was simply a pit-stop on your way to finding a more permanent settlement, or if this was it. Though you’d never admit it, you wanted it to be the latter. Din was reliable, and he cared about you. He was sweet in his own way and he’d have gone to the ends of the galaxy to look after you. He was protective in a way that let you fight your own battles, but not in a way you’d ever have to do it alone. You felt safe with him - as though you’d found everything you were looking for, except neither of you had been looking at all.

You brought the question up on a slow morning. The Mandalorian was between bounties, and you’d briefly landed in a dusty outpost on a thick jungle planet to refuel and find some food. The kid was snoring away in his pod a few feet away, clearly feeding off of the relaxed atmosphere that you’d managed to create. You were laying beside him, the lights still off and your head buried in his neck. Both of Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, gripping onto you as though you might slip away into the darkness of the vast galaxy.

‘What are we?’ You asked quietly.

‘Humans.’ Right, there was the dry sense of humour.

‘Din.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m serious.’

‘What’s making you bring it up now, cyar'ika?’ He asked. ‘It’s early.’

‘I was just thinking.’ You sat up, pulling the covers with you. ‘We’ve been doing this thing for months but neither of us have actually worked out what the hell is it is.’

‘We don’t have to.’ He replied.

‘Right.’ You murmured.

‘It’s just-’

As though the little bugger had sensed a sudden onset of tenseness in the room, the Child let out a loud cry. You immediately recognised it: he was hungry. Even if you were ready to throttle anyone who dared come near him, you didn’t have a hard time admitting that he had a penchant for the worst timing. With that said, the fact he’d slept through the whole night without waking once certainly helped the fact.

‘Hey, buddy! It’s okay!’ You heard the mechanical click of Din’s helmet as he turned on the lights, allowing you to leap out of bed and stumble to the baby. ‘We’ll get you some food.’

That wasn’t the first time that something had magically changed the subject whenever you tried to bring up the status of your relationship with Din. If the kid didn’t decide to pull your attention away, it was the Mandalorian himself who veered away from the conversation. He always had to check on a bounty, or rush off to see if the ship was on the right route. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was avoiding the subject entirely and you were starting to become frustrated.

After almost three weeks of trying to challenge him about it, you were close to giving in entirely. What if you were wasting your time? What if you were going to let yourself fall in love with him, only to find out you weren’t a permanent part of his plan? Fuck, did he even have a plan? Was that the life you wanted -

- it was at that point that your train of thought had stopped, because the Child sensed you were upset, and started bawling. Again.

A few hours after your fourth or fifth try at the conversation - once again to have it ended by the kid tossing a frog at you in an attempt to steal the attention back - the three of you ended up in a bar. It was a little cantina a few hours outside of Mos Eisley; it was much cleaner than the other bars you’d seen, and if it weren’t for your foul mood, you might have even enjoyed it.

‘What’s up with you?’ Din asked quietly.

‘Nothing.’ You murmured. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Your tone is off, cyar'ika.’

‘Leave it.’ You snapped. ‘I’m getting another drink.’

You moved the baby off your lap, placing him on Din’s instead. After digging around in your pocket for some credits, you quickly stood up and sauntered over to the other side of the bar, leaning against the wooden counter as you waited for your turn to be served. It wasn’t too busy - there were a few people floating about. Locals, you figured. It was a slightly fancier part of Tatooine, and you could see the difference in the people who were frequenting the establishment.

You were trying not to think about Din, or the fact he still refused to talk about what was going on between the two of you. You’d long surpassed the point of no return for your friendship - no, you were too invested now. Either he had to prove he was in it for the long run, or you had to walk away. Was that an unfair ultimatum? Not really. He’d started it, after all.

‘What’s a pretty thing like you doing waiting for a drink?’

You glanced up to see a man beside you, a half-empty flagon of beer in his hand. He was tall, dark and handsome; the type you used to briefly date back on Corellia. He smelt of expensive aftershave, and his clothes gave the impression he was quite well-off.

‘I could ask you the same.’ You replied.

‘So you think I’m pretty?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at you.

‘No, I...I mean, yeahhhh.’ You turned to face him, offering him a smile.

‘You’re here with that Mandalorian.’ He glanced over his shoulder, before leaning a little closer towards you. ‘What’s his deal?’

‘Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.’ You snorted. ‘I don’t think he knows what his deal is.’

The conversation was completely innocent - after all, you had no intention of anything happening with whoever this guy was. And even if you did, weren’t you technically single? You certainly weren’t in a relationship, at least not according to Din Djarin. He had no standing ground, nor any right to be jealous.

Still, that didn’t stop his entire body filling with rage the minute the man put his hand on your arm, and it certainly didn’t stop him immediately packing up all your stuff to leave the bar. Even the notion of another man touching you made him want to scream - let alone the actual sight of it. It was the way your new friend leant in a little too close, and laughed a little too hard at your jokes. You were funny, but you weren’t that funny.

‘We’re leaving.’ Din declared, suddenly appearing beside you.

‘Okay.’ You shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘I’ll meet you back on the ship later.’

‘No, I mean we’re leaving.’

You snorted. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m staying right here- oof!’

You let out a small squeak as the Mandalorian grabbed you with his free arm, tossing you over his shoulder. Before you could protest, or even apologise to the man beside you, he was marching you out of the bar and into the cool evening air of Tatooine. All meanwhile, the baby was giggling at the site of you with your legs in the air and your face planted against Din’s back.

The ship wasn’t far - probably not more than a two minute walk. Din had been conscious of the Child’s little legs when he’d parked at the outpost; he was becoming more independent now and insisted on walking places himself. It was just that he could only walk for five minutes before getting tired, but the little sod would cry if you tried to carry him. He was lucky he was cute.

‘What the hell was that?’ You snapped, barely catching your balance as Din planed you on the floor of the ship.

‘That man was flirting with you.’ Din simply stated. ‘I didn’t like it.’

‘You...’ you trailed off. ‘You didn’t like it?’

‘He was overstepping his boundaries.’

‘You were jealous, weren’t you?’ You let out a derivative snort, folding your arms across your chest.

‘You knew I could see you.’ Din was still calm.

‘And? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, is it?’ You murmured.

‘That’s not-’

‘ - let me finish!’ You cut him off. ‘I have been trying for weeks to talk to you about it, to see where I stand with you, and you always change the subject or try to run away from it! You have no right to be jealous, or to act like I’m with you because you have made it abundantly clear that I am not. Your high horse is basically a shetland fucking pony, Din Djarin!’

There was a silence between you for a moment. It felt good to have finally said it - you just wished you’d been a bit more gentle. Din had never seen you shout before, or even come close to losing your temper. He knew it was bound to happen but he had never imagined it being at him. Then again, if you’d tried to pick him up and force him out the bar against his will, he would have been angry too. (The thought of you even trying it was rather comical).

‘I was scared.’

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting.

‘Of me?’ Your voice was quiet.

‘I’m in love with you.’ He said bluntly. ‘That terrifies me.’

‘I...fuck.’ You felt as though the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with whatever grey smoke the Crest spat out when the engines were broken. ‘I love you too - but why does it scare you?’

‘Because it means I can’t ever leave you.’ Din continued. ‘And I want to give you the life you deserve but I don’t know if I can. Not with my job, not with the things I’ve done.’

‘Din.’ You took a step forward, his large hands enveloping yours as you did. ‘D’you think I care about any of that?’

‘I was afraid to ask.’

‘No offence, but you can be a bit thick sometimes.’ A small chuckle escaped your lips, even if tears were forming in your eyes. ‘I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as I’m with you, then I have the life I want. That’s why I’ve been so off these last few weeks, because I was so scared you were going to turn around and push me away.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ He said. ‘I’m not going to leave you - you have my word. I promise.’

‘So why don’t we just stop being scared and start just...being together?’

He briefly stepped away, hitting the control panel to turn off the lights in the ship. His helmet hit the ground with a thud, and a moment later, his hands were on your hips as he pulled you towards him. Din crashed his lips onto yours, closing the gap between you with a desperate kiss. You’d kissed before - more times than you could even begin to count - but this one felt different. It had meaning; purpose, in fact. It was as though the last few months’ worth of feelings that the Mandalorian had been pushing aside had finally broken.

‘I love you, cyar'ika.’ He quietly murmured again. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry.’ You tearfully smiled, forehead still pressed against his. ‘And I love you too, even if you’re a bit of a dumbass sometimes.’

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you, dumbass.’ You quietly said.

‘Is that now your equivalent to cyar'ika?’

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mando x reader #mando imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x you #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian angst #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world.

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?”

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?”

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be?

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly.

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start?

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard.

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?�� Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear.

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins.

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now?

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

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linkedkeysau-official · 1 year

Text

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Days 8/9 - Panic & Voice Loss

“Wind… Do you think Wars is going to die?”

“What? No! He’s way too tough for some overgrown Lizalfos to take him down!”

"It's just… I overheard the others talking. They're saying he might not make it. I don't know what I would do if—"

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

“Link…? Is dad going to be okay?”

“Of course he will! He’s way too strong to let something like this stop him!” Link tried to assure her.

He swore he’d be strong for her, and for everyone else in his life. He couldn’t let grief get the best of him if he was going to protect them all…

So he vowed to remain completely silent from then on, in order to appear strong and carry any burden he was asked to, without question. Without complaint. Without failure.

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

“Cub?” Twilight asked, appearing behind the Champion, “You okay? I saw you fall… You’re not hurt, are you?”

Wild tried to respond, but his voice wouldn’t work. But it didn’t have to; silence would be better anyway, right? Wild shook his head in response to Twilight’s question.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Twilight urged. Wild, again, shook his head.

I’m fine, he signed, standing up without another word, or gesture for that matter. He noticed the two kids had fallen asleep in the hallway, and decided to carry them to the other room so they could sleep in a proper bed. Twilight helped, clearly concerned for Wild, but Wild said nothing.

He felt he could not speak again unless Warriors turned out to be alright in the end.

#linked keys #lk #loz au #not lu #lk wild #febuwhump2023 #mod kj

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kassandras-one-braincell · 3 years

Text

Abby Anderson x GN!Reader - Please Don’t Leave Me

Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me (I’m creative with my titles)

Can be found on AO3 here.

Setting: before Abby leaves to go golfing. Abby and the reader are in an established relationship.

Warning: angst angst angst, excessive usage of the f-bomb and discussions of murder.

(Y/N) replacer safe.

Word count: 1846

Fuck, she’s really doing this.

Every day since Isaac had granted the Salt Lake Crew leave to hunt down Joel Miller, you tried to bargain with Abby, tried to make her see some sense. That killing him won’t take away any of the pain she feels. The grief. The gaping hole in her heart. But she’d always brush you off, distancing herself from you, suppressing her emotions with bicep curls and crunches as per habit.

Each passing hour, a nail was hammered into the coffin of the woman you love. And this morning is the final nail.

The quaint apartment you call home is filled with a cacophony of rustling and pleas as Abby shovels supplies into her backpack, preparing for her hunt. In her mind, Joel’s death warrant is signed, the execution nigh. And God are you desperate, trying to drill some semblance of reality into her stubborn mind one last time before she embarks on a journey she’ll only regret.

“Abby, please just listen to me for one minute—”

“I need to do this.” She heads to your small shared closet, refusing to look at you from your position by the bed. You frantically try to intercept her path, knowing full well she’s much, much stronger and can reposition you with ease. But it’s worth a try.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” you implore, clutching the wood.

“Move, (Y/N).”

“Abby, this isn’t going to bring him back. You know that.”

“Move.” Her tone is exasperated, utterly focused on packing her shit and promptly leaving. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“That girl in the hospital. The immune one. She must have been like a daughter to him for Joel to kill a group of innocent people for her,” you plead, feet firmly planted on the floor. Searching for her eyes, those blue irises alight with a maelstrom of hateful determination. They meet yours. “Killing him will just put her through all of this.”

Abby reaches for the closet door and slowly pulls it open, acknowledging your reluctance to move, deciding to disregard it. The wood begins to dig into your back and you’re forced to step aside. “This isn’t going to end, Abby. You fucking know this.” As she folds some spare clothes and places them in her backpack, you fall gracelessly to the bed, needing to sit down. Bile climbs up your oesophagus. Shit, where was her sense of fucking empathy?

“Abby…” Once again, she doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, folding the garments in robotic fashion. “Abby, you said she was a kid. A kid.”

The final shirt is stuffed haphazardly into the bag. She grits her teeth and turns to you. “He killed dozens of Fireflies, (Y/N). Dozens. And that’s all we fucking know of. There could be hundreds of others because he’s a stone cold killer.” Her face flushes with anger, no remnants of the woman you know left behind. “No one person is worth that many fucking lives.”

You let out a breathy laugh in sheer disbelief. “But it’s not about them, is it? Not to you.” The words escaped you in a hiss, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “Never fuckin’ has been.”

Abby rolls her eyes and grabs her maps from the coffee table, iron fist crumpling the papers beyond legibility. “There could have been a cure. A fucking cure to all this.”

On the surface, her words are rational. One life for a cure that would save millions was a worthy sacrifice, that you would be foolish to deny. But the odds of developing this cure were slim, and the girl would have likely died in vain. You knew this. Abby knew this. Jerry knew this.

With a shaky breath, you cradle your arms, never before having felt the urge to cage yourself around Abby. Fingers firmly gripping at your elbows, you let the cards fold. Unadulterated truth.

“You’re in denial, Abigail.”

A tut. “Don’t you fucking ‘Abigail’ me.” Her previous efforts to maintain a steady tone have been vanquished, anger seeping into each progressing word.

She’s gone.

And it’s this precise revelation that fills your eyes with oceans. Throat closing up, nose burning with the urge to spill over, you attempt – attempt – to articulate yourself, to no avail. Seconds later, rivulets trickle from your eyes to your cheeks, and you find yourself sniffling like some stupid kid… No, not a kid. A grieving adult, bereaved by the loss of a lover. Because the other figure in the room is but a husk of the radiant soul you fell for.

“All…” You pause to inhale, deeply: a futile effort to regulate your breathing, to lay rest to the turmoil suffocating your ability to fucking think. “All that’s going to happen is… You’re going to have to—” Hiccupping, you close your eyes, praying no more tears would fall. “To live with the guilt of orphaning a kid.”

Sentence finally out, you surrender to your sorrows, allowing them to wrack your chest with sobs and heaves until it gets too much, salt freely spilling from the floodgates. You can’t…you won’t bring yourself to look at Abby – the machine in her place, one programmed to kill and kill alone.

It’s wholly terrifying.

Distress flickers in her eyes, her frown slackening for a fraction of a second at the sound of your despair. “No one is forcing you to come,” she puts plainly, as if that has anything to do with the issue at hand.

“You know this – isn’t about that. Fuck, even Owen knows this…this is a bad idea.” Too dejected to cry. Too dejected to battle the hitched breaths you take trying to force out the words.

Words that fall upon deaf ears. “That’s not what Owen told me.” She slots a Swiss army knife into her cargo pants’ pocket, headed with a canteen in hand towards the kitchenette. “He was there, (Y/N). He agreed that Joel needs to die.”

“Because he’s fucking scared of you!” We all are, nearly breaks free from your lips, but that’s not what Abby needs to hear right now. Nothing that will push her away. Further away. The reigns you have on your lover are fraying, leaving you grasping at nought but strings. Frenzied, you attempt a softer, less concrete approach. “Baby, it isn’t normal to be so…hellbent on revenge like this.”

Silence. The delicate trickle of water sounds from the faucet as Abby fills her canteen. Then, a sigh, one of frustration as opposed to defeat. “If you think calling me ‘baby’ is going to erase four motherfucking years of grief, you are sorely mistaken. You’re smarter than that.”

Patience thinning, you stand up, wading through strewn supplies across the apartment floor towards the kitchenette. “Four years and you still haven’t given yourself time to mourn properly,” you reason, deliberately obstructing her path out of the kitchen with your body again. “Maybe if you had you’d see some fucking sense.”

God, that was a mistake. Shit, shit, shit shit shit the last thing you want to do is piss her off, not with her mind in such a volatile state, devoid of all logic.

“I appreciate you’ve lived a fucking sheltered life since the outbreak,” she seethed. What?

“That’s not true—”

“And you have no fucking idea what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you like that.” Volume rising, words a mantra fuelled by detest. “And you know, maybe, just fucking maybe, this’ll be my one chance to put an end to this shit!” The fist not clutching her backpack clenches. And for the first time ever while alone in her company, you flinch.

“He fucking deserves this, (Y/N)! If I can show him a fraction of the pain he caused me—”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” you whimper, closing in on yourself. Genuinely afraid she’d raise her hand towards you.

Had you a mirror, you’d know truly how perturbed you look in this very moment. Streamlines drying on your cheeks, eyes reddening and puffy from crying, wide with fear like a doe face-to-face with a moving car. Body subconsciously making itself smaller, reducing its surface area, reducing the likelihood for any incoming swings to hit.

She lowers her guard, colour returning to her knuckles as she unravelled her fist. Knitted brows returning to their natural place above her eyes, mouth parted as the horror of her behaviour settles in.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Even her previously stern voice cracks at this.

It takes tremendous willpower to not fall back as she takes a tentative step towards you.

Drying your eyes with your sleeves – her sleeves…you forgot you’re wearing her old sweater, the notion sour on your tongue – you break your mutual gaze. “You’re not you right now,” you whisper, not trusting your larynx to produce anything above a mouse’s squeak. “This isn’t the Abby I know.”

For the first time this morning, a sentiment other than bloodlust registers in her face. Hurt.

Either unable or unwilling to respond, Abby recommences her packing in solemn silence.

Shit, you have three, perchance five minutes at best to dissuade your girlfriend from leaving and doing something that will haunt her for all eternity. Yet all you can do is brace yourself against the wall and allow a second tsunami of tears to wash over you, pangs of anguish striking your heart. “Abby—”

“I’m going, (Y/N).” Firm, with a shred less conviction, but firm enough.

A violent sob tears through you as you beg, beg, the vessel of the woman you adore, “Please don’t leave me.”

For a fleeting moment, your heart stops as she hesitates in her tracks. A flicker of hope seizes your mind, that perhaps she has reconsidered, that finally some logic has entered her train of thought.

It all crashes down when she reaches for the spare rifle ammunition by the front door.

“Fuck, Abby—”

“I’ll be gone a month at most.”

Hail-Mary.

Please.

Chest shuddering with each sob that wracks through you, you utter through violently trembling lips and hiccups, “You’re so – fucking blinded – by your hatred – right now – that you can’t – fuck, see – this will – kill you—”

The gravity of the situation threatens to make your knees buckle.

Abby plucks her jacket from the coat hanger and wades over to your crippled stance by the kitchen. A hand brushes your salt-slicked cheek as a lock of hair is swept out of your line of sight. “I love you,” she whispers in pained honesty.

“Abby…” You try to take her hand, to ground her, to remind her of the life she’s leaving behind on her relentless pursuit of this warped sense of justice.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” She squeezes your palm and lets go, zipping up her pack as the front door to the apartment creaks open and slams shut.

Death is a word that isn’t used lightly, especially not after an epidemic takes the world by storm. But part of your spirit certainly died the moment that door closed behind her.

(I’ll leave it up to you whether she has a change of heart or leaves and scores a few hits above par.)

#abby anderson x reader #im sorry :(#abby tlou #angst #bad things happen bingo

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